and then they rode off on the horse

anywhom tbt when i had a dream i was in this beautiful meadow and beyonce rode up to me on a white horse and told me she was dropping an album on friday the 13th and i was like “:O thanks beyonce!” and she rode off and disappeared behind a waterfall and when self titled dropped i was like “why is everyone freaking out she announced this months ago?” because i genuinely forgot that i did not encounter beyonce in some mystical realm for a one on one press release. better times 

The entire McDonaldland concept was phased out in the ‘70s, when Sid and Marty Krofft sued McDonald’s, claiming that McCheese was actually a rip-off of H.R. Pufnstuf – a character from a children’s TV series of the same name.

Just like McCheese, Pufnstuf was also a mayor – complete with sash and tragically oversized head, as all mayors possess – who ruled over a fantasy land where everything was alive, and all of the toilets were suicidal. According to the lawsuit, the Needham, Harper & Steers ad agency had wanted to license the cast of H.R Pufnstuf for McDonald’s commercials. When this didn’t work out, they decided to make their own mascots, and when that started interfering with their day drinking, they just stole the Pufnstuf designs, changed them slightly, and rode off on fancy dancing horses made entirely of money.

The lawsuit bounced around the courts for a few years, but eventually the Kroffts won, and McDonald’s had to pay them a million dollars. Then, over the next few years, they slowly purged the McDonaldland gang from the history books in the most brutal regime change this side of Game Of Thrones.

5 Beloved Characters Stolen From Really Weird Places

Collision Course - Part Eight

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven


They rode in silence, only the occasional directions to the horses or calls to break for food or water.

It surprised Claire that Frank was so quiet but she presumed it was because he found Murtagh intimidating and her own silence daunting. As Murtagh erected a small camp for the night, Claire left Frank to cope with being saddle sore and wandered off to gather kindling for their fire. In the woods she realized how different silence was from solitude.

Her heart was heavy and she knew why; she missed Jamie. With Frank riding behind her sharing a horse, it was impossible not to be reminded of those first days after she traveled through the stones and the solid, reassuring presence of Jamie at her back, sheltering her and keeping her warm. Had she ever felt quite that way with Frank? Or was she misremembering all of it? She had wanted to get back to the standing stones so she could get back to Frank since she’d arrived, she just hadn’t succeeded before he showed up there himself. During that first ride with Jamie, she had been in shock and denial about what had truly happened; she had been surrounded by a band of ruthless Highlanders who thought she was an English spy and easily could have killed her.

She should be relieved that this whole ordeal was ending. In a few days time she would be back in the twentieth century; she would be able to soak in a nice hot bath, wash her hair properly, even shave her legs; no more stays or layers of skirts to trip over; bedding with clean sheets and no lingering smell of a chamberpot tucked away under the bed.

And Frank would be the one lying beside her. His wounds would be tended in a proper hospital and then they would go back to Oxford and pick up where they’d left off before their holiday had been so abruptly derailed.

That’s what their holiday had been about in the first place––picking up where they’d left off before the war. Was it possible too much had happened? She tried to think of what Frank must have gone through since her disappearance, the trauma of traveling through the stones and to so quickly fall into Black Jack Randall’s clutches; she had come dangerously close to that herself.

She did understand Frank’s position and she felt for him but there was something more holding her back.

Jamie.

He would be all right without her… wouldn’t he? Did she want him to be?

She scolded herself for thinking something so selfish. Of course she wanted him to be happy… she would simply be happier if it was her making him happy.

But she couldn’t have things both ways; she couldn’t reconcile the vows she’d made to Frank all those years ago––the vows that had sent her searching for a way back to Craig na Dun in the first place––with whatever it was she felt for Jamie.

She carried the kindling back to their camp and started the fire. Murtagh disappeared to see about supplementing their provisions with some fresh meat and Claire took one of Frank’s bandage-wrapped wrists into her lap to inspect the state of the wounds. They were still redder and more swollen than she would like. Prodding gently, some puss squeezed from the edges of the scabbed over cuts. He needed antibiotics.

“You’re still wearing it,” Frank remarked flatly, surprising Claire.

She reached for a salve from her medical kit and began lightly applying it to the infected wound.

“Wearing what?”

With his other bandaged hand, Frank reached over and tapped Claire’s left hand.

Her thumb instinctively felt for the iron band of her wedding ring, her heart steadied by its reassuring warmth on her finger.

She looked back at Frank’s arm in her lap and shrugged.

“Don’t really notice it,” she said dismissively. “Slipped my mind.”

“You should give it to his friend there,” Frank nodded toward Murtagh who was nearly finished with their tents for the evening. “He can return it.”

Claire clenched her teeth and ignored Frank. She could not tell Frank that Jamie had said she could keep the ring because that would show that she had thought about it and she would also feel compelled to tell Frank that she had asked to keep it in the first place.

Luckily, Frank was perceptive enough to drop the subject and instead began expressing concerns about his arms.

“You’ll be fine,” Claire assured him. “Once you get back, it’s just a matter of getting antibiotics for the infection. You probably won’t want to roll up your sleeves too often because of the scars––those are probably unavoidable at this point.”

“Once we get back,” Frank emphasized quietly.

Claire felt her cheeks flush momentarily but continued applying the salve uninterrupted. “You know what I meant.”

Having finished with the salve, she turned to put the jar away in her medical kit and thought she might have heard Frank mutter, ‘Do I?’ under his breath. She ignored him and set about re-wrapping his wrists, the rest of the treatment performed in silence.

Murtagh insisted she and Frank take the makeshift tent for the night.

“I’ll stay by the fire and keep watch,” he told her.

“You’ll need to sleep eventually,” Claire reminded him but Murtagh shrugged off her concern.

“I dinna sleep deep on the moors. There’s not much as might happen that willna wake me wi’ no time to act.”

Claire didn’t bother to argue; she helped Frank settle onto the roll of bedding before stretching out beside him. It was closer than they’d been sleeping in the cave where she preferred to rest propped against the cave wall, afraid of disturbing his much needed rest. They didn’t speak but rolled towards each other. She felt Frank’s lips brush her forehead and turned her face up to his.

There was a moment of hesitation and she realized that she hadn’t kissed him since they’d rescued him; not once. She felt a twinge of shame. After all he’d been through, she hadn’t thought to embrace him or even offer him a loving caress. She had been too wrapped up in his medical care and how Jamie was handling everything.

She reached up now and ran her fingers lightly along the stubble on Frank’s cheek. It was rougher than she anticipated. Her thumb slipped down and traced the Frank’s lower lip before he brought his mouth to meet hers.

She remembered his kiss, the warmth of his lips on hers, and the sureness behind it. She let her eyes close so that when he pulled away, he couldn’t read what she was thinking. He lightly bumped her forehead with his chin, a question.

“We should get some rest,” she whispered, her hands drifting down and lightly rubbing his upper arms. “We still have a long few days before we get to the stones.”

He smiled against her forehead, satisfied for now, then shifted and brought his bandaged arm up to hold her close to him. Her head rested on his shoulder and she felt him relax beneath her cheek. Her body relaxed too but her mind refused to settle.

She lay there entirely awake but unmoving until she was sure he slept deeply. Then gingerly, she moved his arm from off of her and rolled away.

“Are you all right?” Frank whispered. She hadn’t been subtle enough.

“Of course,” she assured him, moving to rise. “I just need to go… you know.”

There was a muffled chuckle from where he shifted himself into a more comfortable position. “That’s something you must have missed––running water and proper lavatories.”

“You have no idea,” she murmured, ducking through the flap of the tent.

Murtagh sat up from his spot beside the low campfire, his dirk in his hand until he recognized that it was only Claire.

“Mistress,” he murmured before laying back.

Claire wandered off into the woods for a moment to keep up the pretense and prayed that Frank would be asleep again by the time she got back.

How was she going to do it? How was she supposed to go back with Frank and be his wife again when every time he touched her she felt the rising shame of betrayal? She wasn’t even sure which betrayal was behind the shame. She remembered how it had been to kiss Frank before, the way it built slowly, the way her body would arch towards him. She remembered but it hadn’t been like that tonight. He had kissed her and it had been lovely but it had been a kiss like any other. She had waited and searched for that deeper stirring but it didn’t come.

There were no visible flames left in the small circle of stones they’d used to contain the fire but the spot still gave off a reassuring heat. Claire found Murtagh sitting again when she returned a few moments later.

“Ye’re bad as Jamie when he’s something on his mind,” Murtagh said, nodding to an empty space next to him.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she murmured, taking him up on the offer to put off going back in with Frank.

Claire stared into the embers of the fire. There weren’t any visible flames but a warm red color ebbed and flowed, pulsing with life. She didn’t notice but the fingers of her left hand were playing with the ring on her right, turning it in circles so the nub where the two ends had been joined orbited her middle knuckle, catching whenever she slightly bent the finger.

“Ye canna choose where yer affections lie,” Murtagh said quietly.

Claire’s fingers stilled but she wouldn’t look at Murtagh.

“But that doesna mean there isna a choice involved in what ye do about it… even if sometimes it doesna feel like it. Maybe… maybe it’s like yer stones.”

At that, Claire did look over at Murtagh, but with confusion.

“Ye didna choose to pass through them, no?” he asked.

“Of course not. I didn’t even know what had happened at first,” she agreed.

“Like falling in love,” Murtagh mused but this time there was something heavier in it, something more personal. A smile played on his lips and the way he stared into the glowing embers was like looking into a memory. He wasn’t talking about her but about someone he had loved once, maybe still did––perhaps that was why he seemed to have so much to say.

“By the time ye realize it, ye’re smack dab in the middle wi’out realizin’ how ye got there. Ye can trace yer path back and ye might come to ken the moment it happened, but ye canna always make yer way back out of it again… I dinna ken anyone tha’s chosen to go back to try to find their way out… at least, none tha’s succeeded.”

“You don’t think it will be possible to pass back through the stones?” Was it fear or hope that she heard in her voice.

Murtagh shrugged. “Dinna ken. Might depend on whether yer heart’s in it.” He looked over at her at last and she felt her face flush, grateful that the dying fire didn’t cast enough light for him to be able to see it.

“Who was she?” Claire asked, turning the conversation onto Murtagh. “The woman you couldn’t find your way out of loving.”

Murtagh looked away again and Claire was about to apologize for asking when he murmured, “Ellen MacKenzie. I doubt I was the first to love her––though, I loved her before Brian Fraser, having met her first… But he loved her the way she wanted… and needed.”

“Jamie told me about them,” Claire explained. “About the Gathering where they met.”

“Aye. Ye can see it, ye ken––no with yerself… no right away. But ye can see it in a man’s face if ye watch careful like… the moment it happens and he has to make a choice what to do next.”

“You saw it with Brian Fraser?”

Murtagh nodded. “Him… and others.” Murtagh reached forward with his dirk and poked at one of the larger pieces of wood, rolling it onto the other side. The smoldering bottom, exposed to the air but not the heat, faded to white ash even as smoke erupted from beneath as the untouched side began to burn.

“We’ve another two maybe three days till we reach the stones,” he informed her. “Best get what sleep ye can. We’ll be needin’ to keep a closer eye for Red Coats as we’re gettin’ nearer Fort William.”

Claire rose and left to join Frank in the tent. He was asleep on his side, his bandaged forearms laid gently one atop the other beside his head. She lay down and turned onto her side as well but with her back towards his.

Dark Knight

This is just a little idea that’s been nagging at me, about how Emma would react to finding out about a certain one of Killian’s adventures.  I’m going to rate this one T. 1040 words.

*~*~*

Emma hefted the cardboard box onto her kitchen table and started with the business of unpacking the items they had gathered from Regina’s vault.  She plucked out the sealed jars of dried stuff , the long thin bottles of potions that she probably shouldn’t spill, and the storybook.

Wait, make that two storybooks. Odd, she didn’t recall packing up more than one. These days the things seemed to pop up everywhere, no doubt due to Henry’s Author status.  She ran her finger over the embossed letters before flipping open the front cover.

The first page let her know this was the Enchanted Forest based on the clothes and the horses and wagons drawn there. The next page showed her parent standing together, watching as someone rode off on a horse, and that someone looked suspiciously like Killian in his long leather coat.  She didn’t realize that he knew how to ride, but of course he did. He’d been in that forest for … centuries?  Excitement started in her toes and jolted up her body as she realized she was holding a book about him. She scooped it up and hurried over to the couch, where she could better settle in and devour this story.

He was on a search for his ship. So this was that missing year, when she was in New York with Henry, and dating Walsh.  Walsh? What had she been thinking? The thought of the man left her with no feelings at all, and had she actually considered marrying him? Stupid, stupid Emma.

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I wish i could go back to when i was 11 and rode any horse anywhere with pretty much no tack, no fear of what might happen. Now i’m too scared to ride Rudi out alone, not because she has ever as much as bucked with me on, but because i know that if something was to actually happen i would have no help around me. It honestly pisses me off because i want to ride so bad, but even sitting in my bed at home thinking about it makes me choke with anxiety… i wish i had someone who could just come with us the first few times so i could prove to myself that nothing will happen. Idk how to fix this really, i didn’t think my fall last year was going to affect me, but obviously it did along with all my other ones. It just gets worse every time.

Teen Wolf S6E10! *Spoilers*

OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!

- I had a sigh of relief when Stiles came back. A WEIGHT LIFTED OFF MY SHOULDERS.

- Papa Stilinski’s and Stiles’ reunion was so cute but I was hella worried about Papa Stilinski fighting them.

- Lydia being the only one to see Stiles and him hearing her voice ):

- Is it just me or was Stiles’ and Scott’s reunion a little underwhelming? Regardless, still cute and still the same ole’ Stiles!!

- ^ Stiles and Scott back to being a team!!!!!

- Parrish finally being released from Douglas’ control like YASSS

- The way Liam ran off and rode the horse was honestly so funny y’all

- I love Corey & Mason aweee

- STYDIA KISS STYDIA KISS STYDIA KISS 

- ^^ “I didn’t say it back.” “You don’t have to.” I SCREAMED

- Then Mama McCall & Argent kissed like THIS EP WAS AMAZING

- Stiles seeing a false dark form of his mother broke my heart but I loved how Papa Stilinski and Lydia teamed up to save him!!

- Theo, Peter, and Malia backing up Scott was GREAT! I cheered so loudly when they diverted the train and Douglas disappearing with the wild hunt like YAS! (Theo really came through y'all, I was shook.)

- “Yeah, everything’s changed.” Stiles said as him and Lydia were looking at each other like I AM SO READY FOR THE STYDIA MOMENTS DURING THE OTHER HALF OF THE SEASON

- The duct tape, the bat, “Lydia’s gonna drive me down”, “We’re not the same kids running around looking for a dead body” honestly this scene had me reminiscing and thinking about my deep love for Teen Wolf. 

- “They still need us.” “They’ll always need us.” “And I need you. You know that.” “I need you too.” MY HEART. MY FAVE PAIR OF BESTIES (besides Lydia & Allison)

- “There’s a dead body in the woods.” The look they gave each other then them really going to the woods. Never change Teen Wolf pack. Never change.

I LOVE TEEN WOLF SO MUCH. I’m gonna be so emotional during the Summer half of season. I really can’t believe it’s ending soon. Teen Wolf will always have a special place in my heart and will always be my favorite show, and my favorite pack. ♡

A young girl sits on the floor of a library criss cross applesauce as she reads a book about riding horses. The librarian comes up to her and asks, “do you like riding horses?” The little girl responded with, “i like riding bear back.” The librarian smiled, “i used to love riding without a saddle. It felt more natura-” The girl cut her off, “no. I like riding on the backs of bears.” Suddenly one of the walls of the library was destroyed and a bear emerged through all the dust in the air. The girl climbed onto it and rode bareback on the bear’s back.

The Soul Riders

So because I haven’t seen it on my dash yet and because @stormiesquall wondered if someone could translate it, here are the info pages from the Swedish Jorvik Gazette, translated to English to the best of my ability

Lisa Peterson & Starshine
“Music calms/comforts me.”

Lisa Peterson
As a child, Lisa rode as she shared the interest for horses with her mother, but fell off and got hurt badly, making her too scared to continue. When her mother died, her father decided to move to Jorvik to work at Dark Core’s oil rigs, and so, Lisa followed and ended up at Jorvik’s school. The great interest in horses was revived when Lisa met Starshine, and now they’re one in the fight against the dark powers.
  Lisa is, also, a skilled musician and does well with most string instruments - everything from guitar to harp.

Starshine
Starshine is Lisa’s loyal companion. Starshine was born in the wild, but was unfortunately separated from his herd as a foal and was taken care of by Herman at the Jorvik Stable. He has lived there ever since, and that’s where he met Lisa. While Lisa is away traveling, Starshine always stays in the Jorvik stables, where he eagerly awaits her return. Starshine is one of the fastest horses on/in Jorvik, and very few horses can keep up with this powerful horse.

Anne von Blyssen & Concorde
“I’m the best!”

Anne von Blyssen
She’s aristocratic in her demeanour and is experienced as snobbish, uppish and vain by others. She cares a lot about her appearance and likes posing for the camera, as she once really wanted to be a model. Anne comes from one of Jorvik’s richest families and has grown up like a princess. She has very high thoughts of herself and doesn’t always realise that she needs to be more humble.
   She’s known as one of Jorvik’s most skilled dressage riders and has competed globally with Concorde, even after she discovered the magical bond between them.
   Anne strives to be the best in the world both at dressage and show jumping.

Concorde
Anne’s horse Concorde is similar to his rider in terms of demeanour, and can sometimes think very highly of himself. While Anne sometimes can realise that she’s a bit too snobbish, Concorde is stubborn like nothing else and stands proudly by being the handsomest, most cared for and best raised horse not only on Jorvik, but in all of existence. His beautiful pattern of movement makes him the perfect dressage horse and in later years, he has also competed in show jumping.

Alex Cloudmill & Tin-Can
“The truth is my main weapon!”

Alex Cloudmill
Alex is a tough girl from the suburbs. The Cloudmill family has unfortunately always been poor, and Alex has had to work hard during her childhood in the concrete outside of Jorvik City. Her little brother James often gets into trouble, and Alex helps him when needed. Alex is a helpful and enterprising girl who’s not afraid of conflict.
   Alex is a true fighter in soul and heart. Truth, loyalty, family and friendship are her catchwords. She has good reasoning skills, and is a good leader, even if she’d rather not shoulder the leader role in a group. But she has a good judgement and people listen to her.

Tin-Can
Tin-Can is alike his owner Alex - he’s unafraid, forward-thinking and never says no to an adventure. He thrives in the woods, especially during a fast gallop over logs and rocks. Tin-Can is the toughest of the Soul Rider’s horses, and like Alex, he’s a born leader. He is the smallest of the four horses, but size means nothing!

Linda Chandler & Meteor
“Knowledge is power.”

Linda Chandler
Linda is known as a bookworm and she loves both reading and knowledge. Her love for books has more than once made people label her as a little bit special, but that’s nothing she cares about. She is always open to changes and new people. She is naturally curious, which can easily get her into trouble, but her thirst for more knowledge helps her move forward all the time. Before she discovered her magic gifts, her great goal was to become a jumping rider, and she has competed in show jumping together with Meteor.
   Linda studies to learn as much as possible about almost everything. She is first and foremost interested in culture and history. If any questions about history are posed, Lina is the first person to turn to.

Meteor
Meteor is the oldest of the Soul Rider’s horses, and just like Linda, he possesses a lot of knowledge. Despite his great wisdom, he’s easily distracted - his greatest interest in life is food, and he rarely thinks of anything else. It’s a miracle that his belly isn’t rounder! Together with Linda, he has competed a lot in show jumping, with great success.

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“Looky here boys, we got ourselves a girl,” A man said as you rode in with Jon Snow. He found you wandering about the fields well away from home, so he offered to take you with him.

“She’s no girl, she’s a women,” Another man piped up. The way these men were looking at you was disgusting. They were eye fucking you.

“Here let me help you down,” The man offered grabbing your leg. 

“Let go!” You say loudly.

“I insist,” He snarled, tugging harder. Jon Snow got off of the horse and pushed the guy back. 

“She said let go,” He boomed. “This girl right here,” Jon said pointing to you. “Shall not be touched or harmed in anyway. If I so much as hear a complaint from her, you will have to answer to me,”

He turned back to you gently helping you off the horse. You were grateful for what he said so you hugged and whispered a simple thank you in his ear.

“Anytime, you remind me of my sisters and I would never want them to be treated like this,” He replied. You let go and gave him a warm smile before heading to your room to settle into this strange place.


masterlist «

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today’s ride was so lovely~
started off riding a tiny appendix pony named lily, then switched halfway and rode moose, the glorious belgian cross. I’m so grateful to be riding again, it’s really helping me survive life right now 🐴❤️

Matilda of Flanders was wife of William the Conqueror and, as such, Queen consort of the Kingdom of England.William had fallen in love with Matilda when he saw her for the first time at the French court. He was said to be so passionately enamored of her that he would do anything to obtain her, whether it means by using force.  The legend says that when William made a proposal Matilda thought it far beneath her to marry him he dragged her off her horse by her long braids, and threw her down in the mud-covered street in front of her flabbergasted attendants and he rode away. Rather surprisingly Matilda agreed to proposal after that supposed incident and the couple married in 1051-52, despite being related in prohibited by the church degrees of consanguinity.  The papal dispensation upholding the legality of this marriage was received only in 1059.

Despite its often turbulent nature, William and Matilda’s marriage had been one of the most successful partnerships in medieval Europe. Matilda had been instrumental to her husband’s success. His mainstay for more than thirty years, she had been one of his most valued advisers, had proved a wise and capable ruler during his long absences in England, and had borne him many children to secure his dynasty. It was her bloodline that had enabled him to pursue so vigorous a claim to the English throne in the first place, and her family connections had helped him to retain both this kingdom and the duchy of Normandy for himself and his heirs. William was absolutely faithful to Matilda and put a great trust in her. Matilda often signed important documents together with her husband. She was well educated, competent ruler with formidable character well beloved both in Normandy and England.

In the early hours of November 2 1083, “growing apprehensive because her illness persisted, she confessed her sins with bitter tears and, after fully accomplishing all that Christian custom requires and being fortified by the saving sacrament, she died.” William stayed with her throughout. He was consumed with grief at the death of the woman whom he confessed to love “as my own soul,” and was said to have wept profusely for many days afterward. According to Malmesbury, William eschewed all other women for the remainder of his days. “For when she died, four years before him, he … showed by many days of the deepest mourning how much he missed the love of her whom he had lost. Indeed from that time forward, if we believe what we are told, he abandoned pleasure of every kind.” The duke subsequently fell into a profound depression, from which he never truly recovered, and was, according to one historian, “a mourner till the day of his death.” The various bequests that he made for the soul of his dead wife reveal the sincerity of his grief.

Pictured: William the Conqueror and Matilda of Flanders, illustration to the book “Rite to Conquest” by Judith Tarr

STARCRAFTY13 & PALOMA H. GOUTHIER
PRESENT


MASQUERADE
Act I: Scene II.
T h e  L o v e r s
》CHEN & WENDY


“They were married in the spring because that was when all romantic couples of that time chose to be wed.  As always, his presence was as bright and charming as the sun and hers as radiant and charismatic as the moon.  All of the townspeople smiled and congratulated the newlywed couple as the two passed by–all of the townspeople loved them.

           Colonel Chen and Lady Wendy had even more of a fairy-tale aura about them as they rode off together in a rose-strewn buggy, drawn by the mayor’s fine white horses, into the sunset; towards their honeymoon suite in the hills.

           I heard one of the elder ladies whisper, ‘Not even death could do them part.’

           Something about the way she said that, at least to me, made it sound like a warning.”


💓 #MASQUERADE | #ART | #COLLABORATION | #STARCRAFTY13 》 +AshLay야! | #ARTSOFPALOMA 》 +Merdarf ™ | #FANTASY | #ROMANCE | #AU | #KPOP | #FANART | #CHEN | #EXO | #WENDY | #WENDYSON | #REDVELVET | #CHENDY | #WENCHEN | #WENDAE 💘

she didn’t believe in fairytales. she hid from love, around dark corners & behind unbreakable walls, expecting nothing & no one to rescue her, waiting for her heart to heal itself.
in her world, there were no princesses with long hair looking down from towers, or knights in shining armor who came galloping in on horses to capture their future queen from harm. she didn’t kiss frogs or lose a glass slipper or sing songs as she rode on a carpet through the sky. she was alone, in her own every day sad story, only seeing those things in Disney movies. 
but then he came along, climbing all the walls she had built to keep herself safe, shining the sun in on her dark corner, sweeping her off into a life she never thought she deserved, leaving behind the things that haunted her nightmares.
he took her on her new adventures, showed her a new day in age. her story wasn’t over, she just needed him to turn the page.
she wasn’t a princess, & this wasn’t fairytale, but he was her knight. He proved that they aren’t all the same in this life, & helped her finally see the light.
—  journal entry/broken love story #7

@scamxnderiisms  summoned the mad king!


—– He ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, nothing getting past his ice cold gaze.

        The rumors of a man with magic powers reached the Mad King’s ears, and of course he was intrigued. He was the only magic user in his kingdom - he made sure of this - and the news of someone using magic so freely inside his walls was interesting to the monarch.

        Of course, Haywood rode out to Achievement City the following morning as the sun broke the horizon. His royal guardsmen were at his side as he hopped off the horse, making his way into downtown Achievement City to find this magic man. The villagers immediately halted their morning routines to pay their respects - as they should, he thought idly with a smirk - then returned to their duties.

        He loved the feel of complete control over every single person in his realm.

        Of course when he asked, the villagers immediately told the Mad King where the magic man was staying. Haywood made his men stay back as he ventured inside, seeing the magic man sitting at a table alone. The room hushed as Haywood walked over, the only sound being Haywood’s boots clicking against hardwood floor. He stopped in front of the man, low voice thundering over the silence of the room.

       “Stand.” He was a man of few words - being told his gaze spoke more than his lips.

Helgi Hardbienson went up to Gudrun, and caught hold of the scarf end, and wiped the blood off the spear with it, the same spear with which he had thrust Bolli through. Gudrun glanced at him and smiled slightly. Then Halldor said, “That was blackguardly and gruesomely done.” Helgi bade him not be angry about it, “For I am minded to think that under this scarf end abides the undoer of my life.” Then they took their horses and rode away. Gudrun went along with them talking with them for a while, and then she turned back.
—  To be fair, Gudrun is also a fucking ghoul in this saga and creeps me the hell out
The Colors of The Plaid- Part 8

Childhood friends who don’t understand that they are supposed to hate each other. Family betrayal. An adventure that leads to so much more than a happy reunion. An unexpected love that turns the world upside down. Secrets and lies that threaten to destroy everything. Is it possible to get your happy ending?

Word Count: 2100

Warnings: drama/angst

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

A/N: I’m still sorry, everyone.

@aprofoundbondwithdean @abby-ackles @goandsavemyunicorn @desiraeduran@winchesterprincessbride @hunting-for-idgits  @liger26 @-hiddlesdweeb- @iwriteshortstuff@homeschooled-fangirl  @bogganheart

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Things that happened today at work
-very old Asian man bought 3 copies of brokeback mountain
-all star played back to back
-a lady with a huge flower hat tried to persuade us to let her buy a cookbook for $0.10
-a kid rode a giant stuffed horse all around then refused to get off when their mom said it was time to go
-the same kid also insisted we sold snowcones (we don’t)
-an old man answered his phone but either the volume was way up or it was on speaker because I could hear every word the other person said (they were talking about “Elizabeth’s turtle themed party”)

For a child growing up with a bad leg, TV was a picture window.  Nothing seemed impossible on that little screen, not when your heroes all wore white hats and rode horses.  Roy Rogers and the Lone Ranger could lift me off the couch.  Let me ride my imagination to a better place.  Andy Devine’s squeaky voice yelling, “Hey, Wild Bill, wait for me,” was a siren song.  The Polio Kid could become the Cisco Kid.  Everyone could tell by my outfit that I was a cowboy. That’s me on the left with my brother Bill.
My grandfather Bailey, who had lived in the Old West, watched those TV cowboys with a bemused expression and tried to set me straight.
“How many times,” he wondered, “did the Cisco Kid shoot that revolver without reloading?”
I counted fingers on both hands. 
“Ten.”
“Ten?” he snorted.  “I counted twelve.”  Grandpa was big on addition.  “Problem is that pistol only holds six bullets.”
“Oh.”
He pointed to the Lone Ranger’s horse, Silver, who was galloping after bad guys.  “We seldom ran horses like that on the open range.  They might step in prairie dog dens and break their legs.”
I turned up the TV volume.  Grandpa turned it back down.
“Most of us,” he continued, “We couldn’t afford our own horse.  We’d rent them.  Two dollars a day.  A quarter off if you brought your own saddle.  The rental horses were nearly always dirty brown and ugly so you wouldn’t be tempted to steal them.”
On our television Roy Rogers’ horse, Trigger, tossed his golden main and tapped his hoof to tell Roy how many outlaws had taken his wife, Dale Evans.
“Those rental horses would never race after outlaws,” Grandpa scoffed.  “They were trained to walk five miles to the nearest stable.  The only time they ran was the last fifty yards, when they could smell the feedbag. 
“You pulled off your saddle and plunked it on another dull horse.  We rode like that all day.  At sunset on level ground, you could see where you started that morning at sun up.”
The real west held little fascination for a five year old with a cast on his leg.
            “Grandpa, were you ever Wyatt Earp’s deputy?”
            “He was before my time.”
            “Maybe horses ran faster back then.”