i might do this with another horse

Modern Conveniences

So the idea for this came from one of @freifraufischer‘s herd of anons, and then @sometimesangryblackwoman gave some prodding to get it written. Anyway, post-ep in which Henry sends the other Regina a care package of things from the modern world, and makes the mistake of soliciting suggestions.

A couple weeks after sending the Evil Queen off to a fresh start and a chance at some happiness, Henry writes her a note. It’s mostly to tell her they’re all okay, that they’ve survived the latest peril which has so marked his adolescence. She’d want to know, he thinks. He tacks on a post-script about his grades, fully aware that she won’t be pleased about that, but hey, there was an epic battle going on and a few nights where he was out late saving the world instead of studying algebra. Surely she can forgive him that.

It’s a one-way form of communication, but it’s the least of what he owes her. Every once in a while, he pens another note, telling her about the situation with Violet and how the horses are doing and everything he thinks she might want to know. It’s not enough, but it’s what he can do.

He’s taken little Neal to the park to give Snow and David some time to themselves and is thinking of what to say to his other other mom when he hears what the mothers in the park are saying. Princess Aurora is laughing about one of the first times she used the internet for shopping. “I couldn’t believe it. You just tell it what you want and it arrives! Better than magic, if you ask me.”

“It still comes with a price!” Ashley says, and the women all laugh.

It gives Henry an idea.

The family is having Thanksgiving at the Mills house. It’s the one holiday they all really embraced after the curse was broken—Mom loves to cook, Snow loves to decorate, and Emma loves to eat, so it’s perfect for their quirky little family. The night before, Henry informed them all that he could use his abilities to send things, modern conveniences she might miss, to the other Regina, so if they had any suggestions he was certainly open to them.

The table was stunned for a minute, but soon they were coming up with all kinds of ideas. Before long it devolved into a conversation of the old days in the Enchanted Forest, and sometimes about the things they missed during the year when Henry and Emma were in New York. But on Thanksgiving itself, Emma calls him aside. “Hey, kid, you haven’t made up your magical care package yet, have you?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted to see if there were any more ideas.”

“Right. So this might be a little embarrassing, but trust me, it’s necessary.”

She hands him a slip of paper and walks away. On the note are two items.

Tampons. Chocolate.

For half a minute Henry wants the earth to swallow him.

He shoves the embarrassment as far back as he can and tries to be sensible. Emma’s right, probably—okay, definitely, since he has no idea what this is like and she does. But ugh, he wishes the pen would let other people write down their seriously personal suggestions instead of him having to do this.

Half an hour later, Snow calls him away from football with the guys to the dining room, where she’s putting the finishing touches on the table. “Wow, Grandma,” he says, “it looks great.”

“You think so?” Snow replies. “I keep thinking the flowers are too tall, but I guess not everyone’s as short as me. You’re not even as short as me anymore.”

He grins by way of apology. “So what do you need help with?”

“Oh, I was actually going to give you another idea for the other Regina. I don’t want to embarrass you, but…”

The words aren’t even out of her mouth yet and Emma’s note may literally be burning a hole in his pocket. Why isn’t there ever a sinkhole when he really needs one?

He stammers his thanks and hopes he isn’t blushing.

Dinner is great, even if he can’t quite look a couple of the women in the eye. He stuffs himself on mock-apple pie (Mom’s idea of a joke), and when Mom gets up to wash the dishes, he follows her to help. The others try to protest that she shouldn’t be cleaning up when she did most of the cooking, but she waves them off, knowing she likes things done a certain way.

Henry knows her system, though, so he can help. The others clear the table and let mother and son get to work. As she washes and he dries the china, she says, “There’s something very important you need to add to your list for… the other me.”

Ugh,” he says. “I know, Mom. Emma and Snow both talked to me about this, okay? I know. Chocolate and… the other thing.”

Mom looks at him with this expression, torn between laughter and incredulity. “The other thing? Come on, Henry, the word won’t hurt you.”

The ground beneath him betrays him yet again, refusing to open and put him out of his misery. “Chocolate and tampons,” he mumbles.

With a soapy hand, Mom pats his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Seriously, he’s going to crawl into a cabinet and live the rest of his life in there as a hermit.

“Have you got a piece of paper?” she asks.


“Good. I want you to write this down.”

“Mom, Emma already gave me a note with this, so it’s not like I’m going to forget.”

“No, I want you to write down the actual brand. These things are not to be left to chance.”

Mortified, he obeys.


In that other place, Regina is between encounters with the angry young king—she’ll bring him around yet, she knows—when she gets a box from her son. It’s thoughtful and kind and makes her heart so full she thinks it must burst. But in the bottom there’s another box, wrapped in brown paper. Henry has scrawled a note on it. They said you needed this.

She laughs so hard when she opens it that she literally falls out of her chair.

My poor little prince, she thinks. You must have wished the earth would swallow you whole.

mizjoely  asked:

22. I don’t know why I married you. 23. Have you ever lied to me? 24. If I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away. 25. Aren’t you supposed to be the adult? Any of them or a combo - my additional challenge is to use the same prompt(s) for Warstan and Sherlolly?

((Cracks knuckles)) Challenge accepted.  Though you’ll have to wait on the Sherlolly because this one ended up going lengthy.

“I’m starting to think our marriage counselor may be a quack, John.”

He laughed, because he kind of agreed with her (and because they’d had a bit of wine while doing this week’s homework assignment.)  The concept was solid… “get to know the person you married,” but the execution was flawed.

John drew another card from the box.

“Oh, my God.  It’s ‘Have you ever lied to me?’”

“No, never,” Mary said innocently, taking another drink.

“Assassin living under assumed name.”

“Accidentally seduced by secret third Holmes sibling in her clever disguise of pretty girl on bus.”

Keep reading

Animorphs Wicked


Part 2 of my mad ramblings about Animorphs, Wicked, and Cassie/Rachel. (Part 1 here.)

March of the Witch Hunters
All things considered, Cassie’s not that surprised to open her door one day eighteen months after the war ends to find Marco standing on her front doorstep.  “You heard?” he asks hoarsely.  

He’s drunk, Cassie registers with an unpleasant jolt.  Or in shock.  Or… something.  He’s definitely swaying on his feet, a little cross-eyed.  “It’s not your fault,” she says.

He wipes the back of one hand across his face in a harsh motion, even though there are no tears on his face.  “You opening a conversation that way doesn’t exactly make a guy feel better, you know.”

The news—if it can even be called that—was all over the TV this morning.  ANIMORPH LOVE TRIANGLE? the Daily News screamed, recycling other sources’ work as usual.  Some enterprising young carrion-feeder at CNN was the one who pulled together over a dozen clips of Marco talking about Rachel, edited in such a way that they imply a very specific picture: one in which he’s in love with Rachel and ragingly jealous of Tobias.  The implication that Rachel was sleeping with them both screams from between the lines of harsh black print.

When Cassie faces the press conference that afternoon, her hands are still shaking with anger but her chin is high and her voice is level.  “How dare you?” she demands.  “How dare you pick the one person who’s not still around to defend herself and decide that she’s your latest piece of scandal?  Is that supposed to make you feel better about yourselves?”  Rachel might not be around to defend herself, but Cassie will defend her far beyond death.  She doesn’t care how long it takes, she will personally take every single reporter who repeated this news to court, and she will sue the pants off them all.  

No Good Deed
Cassie was sitting on one of the low ridges of the canyon wall above the hork-bajir valley, doing her utter best not to cry, when she saw Jake and Rachel approaching her at top speed.  She took a breath to brace herself for whatever was coming.  Ax had already called her a traitor to her face today.  Marco had demanded to know what she was thinking, letting the yeerks take the morphing cube, and had responded to her answer with an ice-cold “That’s not good enough.”  Jake wasn’t talking to her at all.

As Cassie scrambled to her feet, she registered that Rachel was dragging Jake by the arm.  They both jerked to a stop a few feet away from Cassie, and Rachel released Jake to cross her arms over her chest.  “To paraphrase the stupidest cousin I have in one of his rare moments of insight,” she said, “I don’t care what your problems are.  We have zero time for your self-pity.  So you two deal with this.  Right now.”

Jake mumbled something, staring at the ground.

“That’s not necessary,” Cassie whispered.  “What I did—”

“Is not the shittiest thing any of us has ever done, or even anywhere close to the shittiest,” Rachel said.  “You made a bad call, yeah.  We’re paying for it.  But the thing to do now is to stop beating yourself up and start trying to fix it.  Jake’s sorry he’s been a total jerk to you, by the way, and he’ll never do it again.”

Jake jerked his head up to stare at Rachel, mouth halfway open.

“Look,” Rachel said.  “It sucks that we lost the morphing cube.  It sucks that the yeerks know who we are now.  It sucks that we lost your parents, that…”  For the first time her voice wavered, just a little.  “That my dad’s a controller by now too.”  She jabbed Jake in the chest.  “None of that is an excuse for pretending Cassie doesn’t exist.  So I’m not asking you two to, I don’t know, get back together or anything.  I’m asking you to suck it up and deal with what we’ve got in front of us like freaking adults.  Okay?”

They looked at Rachel, and then, more slowly, at each other.  At the same time, they nodded.

Cassie grumbled pretty much the entire five hours that she and Rachel spent at the mall picking out dresses for Marco’s dad’s wedding, but to tell the truth it was more reflex than genuine annoyance by then.  Once upon a time she’d have pulled her own hair out rather than willingly walk out of dressing room after dressing room to twirl around in silly skirts and sillier tops while Rachel eyed her critically, and yet…

And yet their friendship had grown to something deeper, more complicated, hard and battered as steel, over the course of the war.  To the point where Rachel’s mere presence was a comfort to Cassie’s ever-racing mind, no matter what they happened to be doing at the time.

And yet Cassie knew why Rachel was spending so much time on this.  It was the same reason Jake had actually taught himself how to tie a half-Windsor, the same reason Tobias had been drilling Ax in how to make small talk like a real boy all week long.  They all desperately wanted to be the best versions of themselves for Marco, knowing the special hell the wedding day would be for him.  This—weird accessories and all—was Rachel being kind and considerate for a friend.

And yet every time Rachel smiled as Cassie pushed through the curtains, or murmured “beautiful, beautiful” as she twirled in yet another ridiculous dress, Cassie felt her heartbeat speed up.  Every time Rachel’s clever fingers adjusted a strap or reached up to tuck an ornament into Cassie’s hair, Cassie felt the tingle of pleasure over every inch of her skin.  

Defying Gravity
Cassie shuts her eyes and rubs at them, doing nothing to assuage their grittiness.  The Capitol Building is crowded as always with aides and tourists, but even this flow of strangers is preferable company to the man whose meeting she just left.  Cassie’s here to sign a deal with Beelzebub to keep them out of the hands of Satan, and she knows it.  The American voting public wants the hork-bajir put on a spaceship and sent “back where they came from.” Her would-be sponsor, on the other hand, has money, and power, and he wants a halfway measure: the hork-bajir would live on reservations (internment camps, a small nasty part of Cassie suspects) but they would be allowed to stay on Earth and given as many trees as they could possibly farm.  He might dress his proposals up in pretty language, but Cassie knows what he thinks: that the hork-bajir are animals, and animals should be seen and not heard.

If you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.  He’s used that phrase more than once, every time she objects to his business contracts, his under-the-table dealings, his blatant flaunting of American tax codes to make a profit for himself.   How will she ever tell Toby?  She’s not giving up, not really, but if they fight to stay free and lose… If they keep insisting on an ideal solution instead of a compromise… It could be so much worse.  This man could protect them, assuming he keeps his word.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” says a slow Texas drawl.

Cassie opens her eyes.  The man standing across from her is clearly a tourist, wearing a t-shirt with a familiar bald eagle across the chest, emblazoned with the words What Would Rachel Do?  Cassie feels a chill go down her spine.  She knows the answer to that question.

“Yes,” she says.  “Where did you get your t-shirt?”

He looks confused, but starts describing a shop a few blocks down from the Mall.  She’s desperately afraid, but she can feel herself smiling all the same—she’ll have to get one for herself.  It’ll be a good totem to have in the fight ahead, because she’s about to tell the most important corporate developer in the country to shove his internment proposal where the sun doesn’t shine.

Dancing Through Life
They were sitting around in her barn as they had thousands of times before, but this meeting was anything but typical.  It was just her and Jake and Ax—the others were all out playing keep-away with David.  Maybe losing.  Maybe dying.  After all, they’d nearly lost Jake and Tobias both last night.

Let my heart harden, Cassie thought.  Let everything that is soft and delicate and easily damaged about me drain away, and let only anger and resolve replace it.  Give me the strength to do to David that which must be done, because god help me HE HURT RACHEL.  She wasn’t sure if she was praying, and if so to whom.  

All she knew was the sudden longing in herself to be Marco: ruthless, careless, carefree, callous.  To barrel her way through the coming days with an inappropriate joke on her lips and a world-loathing smile in her eyes.  She didn’t have it in her, but this cold-burning rage (he wanted to own Rachel, that disgusting little toad, she would make him pay, she would make sure he never got to see another day) suggested that she might be able to learn.

“I know how to handle this,” she said at last.  “All we’ll need is a Coke bottle and a couple blue Legos.”  

As Long as You’re Mine
“What are we doing?” Rachel demanded, burying both her hands in her hair like she was trying to yank it out by the roots.  “Aliens landed in the middle of town last night, apparently more aliens are already here—Cassie, you just turned into a horse.  A HORSE!”

“Yeah.”  Cassie smiled, remembering what it had been like to sprint all-out across an infinite pasture, but then she sobered.  Rachel was right.  The andalite from last night had already died.  More people would die too, if the yeerks had their way.  This wasn’t a game, nowhere close.

“I just… I’m so angry at the yeerks.”  Rachel balled up both her hands.  “I want to kill them all for what they did.  But at the same time…  Cassie, are we nuts for even trying to fight back?”

“I think this is too big for us,” Cassie said slowly.  “I think we’re just kids, and…”  She took a deep breath.  “Everything’s going to change now, isn’t it?  Even if we choose not to act, we’re still making a choice.  We can’t go back, no matter what we do, now that we know.”

“If I choose to fight, you’ll be there with me, right?”  Rachel’s voice sounded uncertain for the first time.

“Whatever we decide, we do it together.  If you’re out, I’m out.  If you’re in… Then I guess I’m in.”

Rachel threw her arms around Cassie in a quick, impulsive hug.  “If we’re in this together, nothing really bad can happen to us.  You and me, girl.  There’s no one I’d rather have by my side.”  

Ten years pass with a speed she could never have imagined.  Ten years since they lost contact with the Rachel somewhere in Kelbrid space, and it felt like losing her all over again.  Nine years since a well-meaning sculptor erected a statue of the five dead Animorphs in downtown L.A., including (Cassie couldn’t help but notice with morbid amusement) room on the plinth for a sixth figure.  Eight years since, at age twenty-one, she became the youngest governor California had ever elected.  Seven years since she married Ronnie; four since she divorced him.  Thirteen years since she lost Rachel.

She’s leaning on one of the supports of the Golden Gate bridge, 700 feet in the air where only people who can turn into birds in their search for privacy can ever go, watching the fireworks over the harbor with bittersweet fondness.  It’s a long way down to the harbor, and from this height hitting the water would be like hitting concrete.  Good thing she’d have enough time to morph, if she felt like it.  And then she looks over, and Rachel is standing there to her left like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Cassie doesn’t believe in miracles, of course she doesn’t.  She’s halfway into a morph faster than thought—but Rachel is talking.  Telling her about a thousand things (ragged rainbow bracelets, stolen homework and whispered promises, blood between their nails) only Rachel would know.  Even as Cassie watches Rachel morphs and then demorphs, just to prove who she is.

“How?” Cassie says at last, once she’s finally sure.  There are tears running down her cheeks.  She doesn’t really care.

Rachel shrugs, hair rippling in the wind.  “Toomin says I still have work to do.  Trust me, I don’t totally get it either.”

“Who’s Toomin?” Cassie asks.

“Oh man.”  Rachel laughs.  “Do you have five hours?”

Cassie realizes that she’s holding Rachel’s hand in her own.  That even though they’re standing too close to each other, so close that Rachel’s hair is blowing against her cheek, Rachel is leaning in even closer.  “Yeah,” Cassie breathes.  “I have all the time in the world.”

I figured out why Better Man is so heartwrenching. Like, aside from all the obvious implications that it made about the relationship and what it did to her, Better Man is heartwrenching for the same reason that Sad Beautiful Tragic and The Moment I Knew is.

Because most sad Taylor songs at least have that line, that one moment where she points out the silver lining. For Dear John it was the bridge. White Horse had ‘I’ll find someone someday who might actually treat me well’. Most of her sad songs has that moment.

But Sad Beautiful Tragic didn’t. SBT is just ‘it ended and there’s nothing i can do about it’. The Moment I Knew was ‘i had so much hope but i was miserable on what should’ve been a happy day’

Better Man is another step forward. Because yeah, she ran and she knew it was the right thing to do and the listeners knew it was the right thing to do, but even that ‘silver lining’ had the tone of ‘it shouldn’t have gotten to this I tried so hard all you had to do was meet me halfway and i loved you so much that i still miss you but now im so brokenhearted and it shouldn’t have come to this it shouldn’t have come to this it shouldn’t have come to this

SBT and TMIK is heartwrenching because there’s no silver-lining. Better Man is heartwrenching because there was barely a silver-lining, but it was still more painful than it was comforting.


When last she had seen Maidenpool, the town had been a desolation, its lord shut up inside his castle, its smallfolk dead or fled or hiding. She remembered burned houses and empty streets, smashed and broken gates. Feral dogs had skulked along behind their horses, whilst swollen corpses floated like huge pale water lilies atop the spring-fed pool that gave the town its name. Jaime sang “Six Maids in a Pool,” and laughed when I begged him to be quiet. And Randyll Tarly was at Maidenpool as well, another reason for her to avoid the town. She might do better to take ship for Gulltown or White Harbor. - Brienne II, AFfC 

(tldr ‘oh look, a pool. jaime sang a song about a pool once.’)

1. Eat the raw heart of a horse. This will distinguish you from a cast of thousands.
2. Are you an urchin? If so, consider writing a novel instead.
3. Have carnal encounters with anyone but another poet. For obvious reasons, you do not want to set a plot line in motion. (See: 2.)
4. As Paul Thek said in 1972: “Redesign the human genitals so that they might be more equitable.” (See: 3.)
5. Select notebooks with great effort, using every ounce of your psychic intensity. I once casually purchased a soft cover moleskin. What a disaster! (I write on my knees. The notebook wouldn’t open flat.)
6. Bioluminesce. Write sentences in a darkened room. Lie on the floor and have other people gently rearrange your limbs. A poetry of hotel rooms, jungles and urban aquariums:

7. Reveal your soft side. Populate your work with rueful remarks, owl bones, ice flowers on the Big Thompson, the slow motion collapse of a girl to the ground, and so on. Keep doing this until you’re performing, almost by chance, a gruesome scene.
8. In the ivy. On the asphalt. Lie down forever, or just for a few minutes, in the place where your poem is set.
9. Attend a world conference of people working on the same things as you but from a different perspective. For example, in March, I attended the third congress of the World Association of Cultural Psychiatry. There, in Mile End, I studied schizophrenia, the figure of the immigrant and the ways in which built environments affect the rates of affective and reactive psychosis in black and ethnic minority populations. To me, this was the deepest poetry.
10. Be alone as much as you can, like a mythical monster. Create hand-drawn mandalas of your subject matter, then annotate (with lightning bolts and a felt tip pen):

11. Drink coffee with other poets. While one of you rests their head on the table, the other one writes an entire book in one sitting. Alternate. Repeat. (Writing and dreaming like this.)
12. What is the role of commas in your work? People asked me this a lot when I first started writing poems.
13. Invent a form that allows fragments to have their own life. To recombine. Or perhaps to simply die off, emitting pink, luminous flares just beyond the range of a society’s vision. In this sense, all form is diasporic: a “territory without terrain.”
14. Bathe in goat’s milk, rosewater and volcanic salt by candlelight, if for some reason you cannot write a thing.

—  How to Write a Poem by Bhanu Kapil
Exo (ot 12) reacts to being on WGM with their idol crush

Anon asked: Exo reacting to being with their crush /another idol/ on WGM :33 pleasee

I hope you like it anon  (✿◠‿◠)

Xiumin | Kim Minseok 

Minseok would be shook and happy-flustered. Like in the gif, he would be surprised but would be chill about it. I can see him being a good husband (like all members) but too good, like that girl would be living.

Originally posted by veriloquentmind

Suho | Kim Junmyeon

He would maybe be nervous, but yet confident. He gonna be a sweet-ass husband. Like, you’re gonna feel like shit because he is wayyyyyy nicer to you, but you’re a nice person too, be he is just sooo damn charming. I do see him with his shyshy moments but fuckkkkkkk, he’s gonna be a proper-ass husband. He might, ok who am I kidding, he’s gonna tell his crush some dumbass jokes. This girl is gonna be living too, pero like with money.

Originally posted by dugyu

Lay | Zhang Yixing

Omg another boy who is a proper ass husband. He will be a cute husband tho. Like his cuteness will melt you’re already nice heart. He will be protected of his crush, or in this case, wife, because you know how his fans can be, he knows how they can be, he gonna be your prince charming, minus the horse and amour. But, you can expect a few visits from dimple zhang, bc if Yixing is with his crush on wgm, you KNOW she is the sweetest, nicest, purest, and cutest girl ALIVE!!

Originally posted by sehun8gfat

Baekhyun | Byun Baekhyun

Fucking a shy-cute child, at first, he of course will be nice and kind to his crush. BUT when he gets used to his crush, married couple of the year fam!! I see him and his crush being like that good friend-relationship. Like those friends who would straight up be perfect for each other. Idk but I do see these two being pranksters. Like I feel the producers would have them do cool fun shit, like water balloon fight, paint war, that stuff. 

Originally posted by littlebyuns

Chen | Kim Jongdae

Like his hyung Suho, he would be a proper husband. Kind to you, cooks for his wife when she had a hard day at work. Legit perfect. He would be a watcher, by that I mean, he would love to see his “wife” working, reading, cooking, like focusing on something.

Originally posted by glorious-soobooty

Chanyeol | Park Chanyeol 

Like Baek-fuck he would be shy at first, but once him and his crush get more used to each other, that’s when the fun starts! You know… he would be like that dating thing he did two years ago (or something).

Originally posted by baekhyunee61

Originally posted by shineeyehet

D.O | Do Kyungsoo

Another husband that will be his crush/wife dream. Oh fuck yes, this boy will be all kinds of smile DO. He will end push his wife to do anything she isn’t comfortable, hand holding, pda in general. But I do see him showing a new side of him, more fun and lose, but still protected.

Originally posted by dokyungsoonet

Kai | Kim Jongin

Like I’ve said with other members, he a shy boy. But do you guys remember Jongin with Taeoh, I see Jongin kinda the same. Smiles when he’s with her, perfect husband material, with a dash of fluster here and there.

Originally posted by kaibility

Sehun | Oh Sehun

This boy is shy shy shy. Yeah he can make his fans blush like a mother, but a girl right in front of him?? Especially his crush, now “wife”. NAhhh, she will be giving him the taste of his own medicine. He of course will be happy that he is with his crush on wgm, but he will try his best to talk to her outside of the show, actually get along with her, and get her digits. 

Originally posted by luedeer

Past Members

Luhan | Lu Han

This cutie Lu, omg. (Can you tell I have a soft spot for him) SOrry, sidetrack. Anywayyyssssss… He will be a combination of happy and cocky. Like, “Yeahhhh, I get to be married to my crush. Of course this would happen.” But seriously, he will be a kinds of happy and wonderful.

Originally posted by meiren-menglu

Kris | Wu Yifan

He’s your bitch. He will low-key do whatever his “wife” want to do. Well not really lowkey, he will do anything his crush will want to do, it more applies to cute shit. Like aegyo, hand holding, PIGGY BACKRIDES!! (calm down me) So he will not want to blow away his cover as a cool guy. That’s yeah he low key aboutthat.

Originally posted by lil-unicorn-yixing

Tao | Huang Zitao

The cool expensive husband. Idk why but I see him getting his wife an expensive gift when they first meet. And instead of those tacky ass flower bouquets, he gotchu a bouquet of food. That’s right, he knows how women work. I see Tao being a chill husband tho, not really to the shy, at first, yes bc he never talked to his crush. But afterwards, he will loosen up and be cool husband Tao. 

Originally posted by pervingonkpop


Originally posted by but-what-even

fuck this is a mess, sorry ^ lol get it ^o^

Comprehensive Guide to Marrying Idealists


Why: INFPs are the YA romance novel protagonists of the world. They will stand by you until death and fall deeply - often too deeply - in love. The nice thing about INFPs is that if you aren’t really that awesome they will invent a more awesome version of you and convince themselves that you are that person. They will genuinely care for you and if you break their heart it will almost definitely make you a terrible person.

How: Get tips from romance novels - the cute ones, not the gross ones - and that’s about it. You may want to consider things like champagne picnics, watching the stars or even cuddling while watching the notebook. Just remember to give them their introvert space and do your best to live up to their expectations.


Why: Picture a nice, fluffy, adorable golden retriever running up to you and greeting you as you walk in the door after a long day of whatever. Don’t you wish people could be more like that? Always happy to see you, unconditionally loving and always ready with a warm hug? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could marry someone like that? If you’ve asked yourself these questions, you should probably marry an ENFP. They care a lot about people but sometimes they just get really distra - SQUIRREL!

How: ENFPs have a funny thing with adorable awkward people who seem like they don’t know what they’re doing when it comes to love. Maybe this has something to do with their supposed perfect match being INTJs. Like the other (especially the extroverted) NFs they JUST REALLY NEED TO MAKE OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY OK? So I guess you could pretend to be an emotionally stunted INTJ? Idk that sounds manipulative and it seems so wrong to advise manipulating iNtuitive Feelers. On the other hand, if you are an emotionally stunted introverted thinker, just be yourself!


Why: Ah yes the social justice types. Like a lot of extroverted judgers they feel a strong need to impact the world and since they’re NFs they want to make the world a better place for everyone. If you also feel very strongly about things like making sure every orphan is adopted by loving parents or passing laws against eating horses, you may find a life partner in an ENFJ. 

How: Never EVER be a bad person. Just have good morals. If you’re not sure how to have good morals think: am I harming anyone? If the answer is no, you’re probably not thinking it through enough. Pretty much everything you do harms someone or something in some way or another. Isn’t that weird? Anyway (my Ne is showing), to seduce an ENFJ you might consider doing something unconventional for a cause. This will help them notice you. Besides that, yea, don’t be a butt.


Why: They have mystical powers. Did you know the tears of an INFJ can cure zombieism? They’re actually the descendants of angels who fell from heaven and bred with the local unicorn population. Not really. INFJs are confusing because they’re confident that they are the best friend anyone could ever have (which in some ways they are) but simultaneously suffer from crippling self doubt. If you like puzzling people and walking contradictions you may want to spend a lifetime with an INFJ, just trying to understand how their brains work. 

How: You’ll have to find one first. Haha LOL good luck.

I’m so overwhelmed by Root who rides horses and motorcycles, cooks, is an excellent marksman, con artist, dancer, assassin, hacker, dog owner, loyal friend, dedicated girlfriend… And all this while maintaining the body of a ballerina and glorious hair. I need to lay down.

AN: Because I am a terrible person, it is now way past prom season, but still :’) 

“I don’t know why you’re stressing about this so much,” Bucky rolled his eyes over his lunch. “You’re already together; it’s not like he’s gonna say no.”

“I know that,” Steve replied, staring down at the blank page of his notebook that he’d dedicated to prom-posal ideas. “Whether or not he’ll say yes isn’t the point, Buck. I know he’ll say yes regardless. I just… it’s senior prom. I have to make the proposal special. I want…” He paused, feeling his cheeks heating up a little. “I want him to look back and remember it fondly when we’re both at different colleges.”

“You’ll literally be a ten minute drive across the Charles river from him,” Buck scoffed, though he put his fork down and focused on the task in hand. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Steve whined. “How did you ask Natasha?”

“What do you mean, how did I ask Natasha?” Bucky frowned. “I just asked her.”

Steve shook his head. “Philistine.” 

“Natasha’s not into all that proposal stuff,” Bucky insisted, though his expression gave away how unsure of that he obviously suddenly felt. “She said she’d go with me…”

“It’s senior prom, Buck,” Steve rolled his eyes. “She might not seem interested, but she will be.”

“Well, fuck,” Bucky sighed.

Keep reading


I took these pictures of papa and Bart the mustang gelding in Sonoita, AZ a few years ago.
Papa had a few horses that he trained down in Sonoita and so we would drive there on the weekends and spend the day trimming the horses and working with the mustangs he had been asked to train (he did the trimming and training, I mostly watched from the rails with the barn cat Matilda or wandered around the property rekindling my acquaintances with all of the horses in their large turn-outs) and on this particular day he was working with Bart in the round pen.
Bart is a 20 year old mustang with a huge heart, a sharp mind, and a sizable dose of trust issues. Before we met him he had been “started” several times by several different variations of the same “ride-em’-till-they-stop” bronco-cowboy types, all to the same negative effect. The cowboys were bucked off and left in the dust and Bart was left with yet another affirmation that humans were cruel and idiotic and untrustworthy. He was labeled a “chronic bucker” and it was left at that.
It took a very long time to show him humans were capable of things other than callousness. But papa worked with him slowly, trying to never ask more of him than he wanted to give, trying to assure him that there was another way.
It turned out that Bart was simply a massively sensitive creature, and most everything that people tried to communicate to him at what they considered a whisper, he considered a shout. If you could quiet yourself enough to connect with him, he was the most in-tune horse you’d ever meet. 
They worked on the ground for weeks, building up a trust in each other and eventually sitting on him with out asking anything else from him. No demands, no Wild West Show, just trying to show Bart that riding did not need to have such stressful associations, that really it was just another way to be connected. I don’t think Bart ever fully accepted being ridden, though. He got to the point where he would tolerate it, and they could ride in the arena without incident, and he was relatively safe, but never fully relaxed. And instead of pushing it, instead of insisting that Bart become a riding horse, he let it be. There was no real reason why this 20 year old mustang needed to be ridden, and he was happier turned out with his small herd than he ever would be under saddle, and that was okay. He had accomplished what he set out to do which was just to show Bart another way; that humans did not always have to bring fear and resentment, but could instead be associated with acceptance and connection and love. 
I called my dad this morning to ask him some questions about Bart and at one point he said, “I think that horse taught me more in those couple of years than almost anything else has.” 
He also said that he heard someone might be taking Bart and his small herd of mares to live on some open acreage in St. David, and I couldn’t think of a situation that would make Bart happier than that. :)



Here we go!

  • I only accept PayPal as payment
  • I won’t do complicated backgrounds, but tell me if you want something simple (like a certain colour or grass etc)
  • The price for lineart/colour/shading won’t change if another character is added (it won’t be doubled)

Things that you might wonder is ok and very much is ok:
OC’s (please have good references!)
Animals (I’m decent at furry ones, less decent at lizards, keep that in mind. Small animals like birds and mice and kittens goes without extra cost. Bigger dogs and horses counts as an additional character.)
All kinds of pairings
Things that could have been nsfw had you removed one cloth

Things I won’t do:
Cars or big transports
Complicated backgrounds

Contact me at: hubedihubbe@gmail.com
I will then tell you the PayPal email

Svenska Kronor (SEK) is also accepted

Thanks for checking this out and I hope to hear from you! ovo/

Long pause in posting, sorry for being so absent! Have a picture of me from a trip to my boyfriend’s family’s summer house up in the north, the horses didn’t like me (hence the long face). I do plan to become more active again, since I actually have a couple of knitting project on going (and soon finishing), and another reason for posting this picture is the sweater in it: I bought it from a flea market for only 4500isk! (google the currency if you’re curious, but just for measure: Icelandic sweaters can be found for up to 20 000isk when bought new from a shop).

In order to become active I’ve started thinking about writing some posts about things you guys might want to know about Iceland and Icelandic sweaters, being that I’m here and very much obsessed about them. Any requests? Shoot me a reply (if that’s still a thing), reblog with ideas or send an ask if you have something specific you’d like me to write about! The bear has woken from her winter sleep and wants to be active again! :) 

anonymous asked:

what are your favorite(s), most beautiful of annie's lyrics?

Oh My God (all of it TBH)

I don’t think the past is better
Just ‘cause it’s cased in glass
Protecting us from our now and later
(Teenage Talk)

Holed up at the Motel Ritz
With a televangelist
At the bottom of a swimming pool
With all the water out of it
(Laughing with a Mouth of Blood)

You’re like a party I heard through a wall
And I’m always watching you through a keyhole

I wish I had a gentle mind
And a spine made up of iron
Mouth connects to the teeth
And teeth to the loves and the curses

And I do my best impression of weightlessness, now too
And I might be wrong, I might be wrong, I might be wrong
But honey I believed I could

Float away
I’m just the same
But brand new to you
(Just the Same but Brand New)

But honey, don’t mistake my affection

For another spit-and-penny style redemption
Cause we’re all sons of someone’s
(Prince Johnny)

You’re all legs

I’m all nerves

Black lacquered

Horse hair whip

By your heels

Heal my hurt

Horse hair whip

Be your floor
(Chloe in the Afternoon)

Can I make a pet of you?

Dress you up for all the girls

Will I keep you begging now?

Or touch you with my gentle words?

Must have been a case

Of hysterical strength

To stand up while the room moved off its axis
(Hysterical Strength)

Morning, pry the windows open

Let in what’s so terrifying

Summer is as faded as a lone cicada call

Memories so bright I gotta squint just to recall

Regret the words I’ve bitten more
the ones I ever said

Wake up puddle-eyed

Sleeping in a suit

The truth is ugly well, I feel ugly too

We’ll be heroes

On every bar stool when

Seeing double beats not seeing one of you
(Severed Crossed Fingers)

My pockets hang out like two surrender flags

But I’d pay anything to keep my conscience clean
(The Party)

One, two, three floor apartment street-side

Bodies like wrecking balls fuck, fuck with dynamite
(The Sequel)

I feel as guilty as Jiminy

And like a piggy-headed Yankee

But I did not see this wave coming

In time to wake you up

In time, in time to warn you of

In time, in time to pull you from it
(This Wave)

Italian shoes

Like these rubes know the difference

Suitcase of cash

In the back of my stick shift

I had to be the best of the bourgeoisie

Now my kingdom for a cup of coffee
(Year of the Tiger)

CS Stable AU
Killian Jones, the owner of Jolly Roger Stables, teaches horse back riding as a way to fund it’s upkeep. When Emma Swan starts bringing her son Henry for lessons, he couldn’t help but notice that the single mother seemed skittish around the animals. Henry’s noticed too and after asking his instructor what to do about it, Killian elects to introduce her to Cinnamon, (and himself) with the nosey help of his own mare Hot Cocoa, who might have just been looking for oats.

For oncepromised who’s actual CSSV gift is still in the works (SORRY!) so I did another mini sketch because horse AUs!

You’re just going to keep getting sketches for every week it’s late ^_^;

hotelgraffiti  asked:

Hello, it’s David Bussell here, the chap who wrote ‘But… You’re a Horse.’ Thanks again for posting my terrible, terrible Kindle cover; I’ve seen a nice sales bump from it. Anyway, I thought you might do me another favour and let your fans know about my new book series, Normalized. I can’t promise the cover is as bad as 'But… You’re a Horse’, but I think your fans will dig the content. Cheers!

You’re bloody welcome, old bean!

“Fans,” can download a free copy of part 1 of David’s book series HERE.

anonymous asked:

have you ever thought that Polis could just be from the old greek word Polis? It literally translates to city.

I have thought about Polis or where the BLOODY HELL it is more than most people, probably. We all thought it was Annapolis until Jason confirmed that it wasn’t. So, one of my theories is that it is just referring to it being the capitol city. I do think that it is some sort of old run down city though. There is spray paint graffiti on the buildings. Remember Polis could be part of a city that hasn’t even been built yet. The apocalypse did happen in 2052. So Polis could just be referring to the type of city – a metropolis. Not a village but a place where there is rich culture and is densely populated. As to what city? If it is an existing city there are a lot of options. The one that is always at the forefront of my mind is Philadelphia. It is an older city that has a lot of graffiti in it. Plus it would be between Camp Jaha and where i think ALIE’s mansion might be. It would be about a two day walk (46 hours) to Camp Jaha and maybe a 1-1.5 day trip by horse. Another reason why I thought it might be Philadelphia is the city behind The 100 logo. I kind of analyzed that too and i do see some buildings that match. So, I’m kind of leaning toward Philly being Polis, if ‘Polis’ is named for being a metroPOLIS and capital city.   

“We’ll get you a new horse,” Kakashi promised. He ruffled Sakura’s hair, something that was endearing when she was a girl but was mostly infuriating now that she was grown up.

Sakura frowned back at him and slapped his hand away. “I don’t want a new horse. I want Buttercup.”

“Maybe she ran away,” Naruto suggested. He didn’t notice Kakashi and Sasuke glaring at him. “I mean what kind of a name is Buttercup?”

“You named your horse Noodle,” Sasuke pointed out.

“Hey, Noodle is a great name—”

“We’re going after her,” Sakura declared. “It was those guys from the pub that Naruto picked a fight with last night. I’m sure of it!”

“I did not, Sakura-chan!”

“They said they were heading for Suna. We’re going after them and when I have Buttercup back, they will feel my wrath.”

Sasuke groaned at the prospect of riding towards Suna, which would probably add another four days to their journey back to Konoha. He looked to Kakashi, hoping their leader might make Sakura see reason but found the older man smiling slightly, probably considering the bars and brothels of the town.

With a deep sigh, he got on his own horse. Naruto and Kakashi did the same while Sakura stood their pouting.

“You can ride with me,” Sasuke muttered.

Grinning, she climbed on behind him.

To fans saying Supernatural is "beating a dead horse" by doing an 11th season
  • The actors have seasonal contracts. If they want to move on they don't have to sign up for season 11. This is giving them the freedom to continue with these roles and have job security if they so choose
  • The show ending wouldn't mean we'd see J2M in the next Marvel movie. It would mean they might get work elsewhere but they might not, acting is a gamble. It's up to them to decide if they want to take the risk or not
  • Season 11 means they have a guaranteed way to keep making money to provide for their families for at least another year
  • If you really love and support the actors why are you being negative about them having job security?
  • And if you think the show is crap and beating a dead horse, why do you continue to watch it? If the answer is "Because I love the actors" then you should be happy that they don't have to worry about whether or not they'll be able to work next year