lead pony

Horse Terms for Non-Horsey People
  • Green: A horse that doesn't know shit. A kid horse. A lil punk horse.
  • Bridle: The head thing for riding.
  • Halter: The head thing for leading.
  • Lead rope: Horse leash.
  • Pony: A shorter, stockier equine. NOT a baby horse. Sometimes also used as a term of endearment towards larger horses.
  • Dressage: Fancy-ass horse dance.
  • Lunging: Making the horse go in circles around you on a long line, sometimes with another person on its back. Good way to teach Green horses the basics and a good way to start new riders.
  • Stirrup: Where your foot goes when you get on.
  • Girth: Horse belt.
  • Boots and Polo Wraps: Thingies that go on the horse's legs to protect them. NOT casts.
  • Fly Mask: NOT A BLINDFOLD
  • Schoolie: A horse that will teach you what's what and also possibly kill you. Usually ornery pieces of shit but also indispensable and amazing.
  • Paint: cow horse.
  • Warmblood: Large, fancy, lovable-weirdo-type horse.
  • Mare: Female horse. Probably thinking about the easiest way to make you cower in fear right now.
  • Gelding: Castrated male horse. Probably fearfully eyeing the mare.
  • Stallion: Un-castrated male horse. Probably eyeing the mare with a mixture of fear and lust.
  • Nicker: A grunting noise a horse makes when it's "happy to see you" (read: looking for treats).

here is a cool thing: Horses and ponies while classified as the same species, are very different. They are not reliable variations like what one might find in “breeds” but two distinct forms of the same species. In the old days, you’d say that a pony was any horse under 14 hands, however, there are lots of horses that are 14 hands and sometimes smaller, and lots of ponies who push this size barrier (often called Cob size). However, there are also breeds of horses/ponies whose name changes, depending on who u talk to (ie. Icelandic Horse vs Icelandic Pony, Fjord Horse vs Fjord Pony) because they contain characteristics of both

those characteristics again, depend on who you really talk to. Generally speaking, ponies are stockier, stronger pound for pound, have thicker coats and manes, hardier and sturdier than horses who are taller, faster, have shorter/sleeker coats and finer manes and tails. Ponies are also generally considered to be smarter and more stubborn than horses, with better problem solving abilities and considered friendlier/less flighty.

but, the above, again, can cross over and both horses and ponies can contain both sets of characteristics, its a total sum of all the characteristics present and historical naming conventions that lead to pony and horse classification

but then you get into miniature horses vs miniature ponies (Falabella vs Shetlands) where its been a heated debate for decades over whether or not there is a difference between horses and ponies in this sense, as both miniature horses and ponies share common characteristics, they’re small, short legs, elongated middle sections, and under the height classification, they are ponies. HOWEVER if you go by the other characteristics, they don’t fit into the pony definition, because they don’t have a thick coat, the muscle, the thick raggedy mane and tail or the stubborn/cunning nature of a Shetland. You can also take into account that miniature horses have a much higher chance of dwarfism than shetlands, because shetlands well, basically evolved to suit the harsh island climate of the Shetland islands in northern Scotland while miniature horses were bred purely for their size and prettiness

what im saying is:

horse classifications are hilariously subjective and there are no laws in this world

staying the night | p.c.

a/n : guess who’s back? be prepared. btw poner is 16/17 in this :)) —requested.

.

.

.

I accept that Pony won’t take the bed, but feel bad about it because I know sleeping on the floor isn’t comfortable.

“Y/N?” I hear him whisper, the only sound to be heard in the dark bedroom. “Are you awake?”

My heart pounds at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, I am. Hey, thanks for letting me stay here tonight, Ponyboy, really.”

It’s like I can hear him shrugging. “It’s not like you knew your friend would get that drunk at the party,” he sort of laughs. “It’s not a problem. You’re, ah, welcome any time.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” I wonder, adjusting the shirt he gave me to wear. Then, I pull the blankets past my shoulders because they’re so soft.

“No reason,” he tries. It’s so unconvincing and I know he’s hurting, laying on the floor with a few thin blankets. “I’m fine — I’ll get to sleep eventually.”

“Pony, come up here.”

I don’t look at him, and it makes it harder for him to reject my offer.

“C'mon, Pony. I’ll still sleep fine, I promise. How about I kick you out if I don’t?”

I’m praying he’ll accept my offer. The thought of being so close to Ponyboy is electrifying. Being in his bed, sharing the same space.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach and tingles shoot up my body starting at my feet.

He gets up ungracefully, making a lame attempt to fold the blankets on the ground.

Ponyboy tries to be careful sliding under the covers next to me.

“We could sleep in. You know Darry gets up real early for work. He won’t bother us none. And Soda’s got work, too.”

I nod, and wonder if things are supposed to feel so tense when you really like someone.

But it’s dark, quiet, and plain. All I can hear are my racing thoughts and I want to know if it’s the same for Pony.

I want to know if he keeps reliving our time dancing tonight in his mind.

“What is it? I promise you.”

Ponyboy runs a hand through his hair, bites his lip. His foot touches mine under the comforter and we both twitch, he moves his.

“Two-Bit and them’re gonna tell you somethin’ but it ain’t true, okay? W-Well, an exaggerated version of the truth.”

My eyebrows knit. “What is it, Pony? Tell me. You’ve got to tell me — you know I hate when people start like that and don’t continue.”

He lets out a deep, uneasy chuckle and warns me to be quiet. “Two-Bit has it in his head that I’m in love with you, and that I wanna marry you.

So, I figured I’d tell you before he had, um, a chance so you wouldn’t get, ah, scared off or nothing. Or get the wrong idea.”

“Is it all lies?” I blurt before I can stop myself. But I want to know, so I continue. “Like, is what he said based off any truth?”

Pony shifts a little. We’re still facing each other in the big bed. It’s not a huge bed, but it’s bigger than mine. A few inches between our noses. “I kind of really like you.”

“Kind of?” I question, daring to inch closer to him.

He swallows and rolls his eyes at himself. “A lot,” he says with a smile.

I press my lips to his quickly. They connect for a second, and he pulls away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” I admit.

He isn’t repulsed, quite the opposite. Ponyboy hovers over me while still remaining next to me, kissing me with a ton of passion.

When I’d dream of us kissing, I’d always picture me taking the lead. Never Pony. But here he is, kissing me like he does this every day. Does he? No way.

I pull Pony’s bottom lip between mine and he flinches, making a noise. He really loves me doing that.

My best friend may have gotten totally drunk tonight, but I can’t say she’s useless. She’s the one who taught me that. Not, like, to me, but — you know what I mean.

Ponyboy draws my attention back to him when he does this amazing thing with his tongue. I don’t mean to be graphic, but the way he makes me feel is just indescribable.

We part as his hands push the loose, thick fabric of the old tee-shirt up around my belly button. A warm hand finds my bare hip under the comforter and he massages it, tracing circles onto the flesh with his thumb.

I stare into his bright eyes as his hand smoothly glides from my bone to my lower back and backside, pushing me flush against his sweatpants.

“Don’t be loud,” he whispers teasingly, a cocky but cute grin gracing his lips.

I run my hand through his hair, pulling on it a little as his hand keeps me pressed against him. He groans and his lips find my neck. I run my hand along his back under his shirt.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this —” he murmurs into my neck. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither have I,” I take in a breath.

I hear something, but Pony’s lips connect with mine again and I can’t move — I don’t want to move and, really, nothing else matters.

Until the door opens. And I see Soda and Steve standing there with huge grins illuminated by the hallway light.

After Albert - Queen Victoria’s Second Love, John Brown

The idea that Queen Victoria was absolutely inconsolable and locked away in seclusion for the rest of her life after Prince Albert’s death is a myth. It is true the Queen took residence immediately after Albert’s death in her more rural homes of Windsor, Balmoral and Osborne, and refused to appear in public for some years. Concern for her health rose, and in 1864, 3 years after the death of Prince Albert, that it was suggested that the Queens outside attendant at Balmoral, John Brown, be sent to Osborne House encourage the Queen to ride out on her pony. He arrived in December that same year, and some time after his arrival Victoria made his position permanent, presenting him the title of ‘ The Queen’s Highland Servant’.

John Brown was born in 1826, in Crathienaird, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, his father being a tenant farmer. He first came into the queens service in 1848 as a Balmoral gillie to Prince Albert, and within the next 10 years he had become her regular outside attendant, leading her pony out on the highlands and helping the royal party with their needs out on the moors, from lacing Victoria’s tea with whisky to cooking potatoes.

Although Victoria held much affection for her brash highlander, others found him rude and much jealousy surrounded him due to his relationship with the Queen; the Lord Chamberlin called him a ‘Course animal’.

John would address Victoria as ‘wumman’, whilst Victoria looked past her Highlander’s faults, saying that his independence on whisky made him ‘bashful’. Her relative seclusion and easy relationship with John led to much rumour in the 1870s to their relationship, from a secret marriage to a secret child. The name  Mrs Brown was on everyone’s lips. However, the Foreign Secretary himself, the Earl of Derby did record that Victoria and John slept in adjoining rooms, contrary to etiquette and even decency’. Biographer A N Wilson claims they slept together in the same bed but never consummated their relationship. Controversially, Victoria also used John for séances where they, with close courtiers, would attempt to contact the spirit of Prince Albert. These séances would go on in absolute secrecy in small closets, such as the Blue Drawing Room at Windsor Castle (where Prince Albert died) and the Horn Room at Osborne House.

Despite the rumours they faced, Victoria remained unmoving on any removal of John Brown from her side, whilst he continued his loyal and faithful service. On at least one occasion he disarmed an attacker to the Queen (in 1872) and Victoria relied on him more and more, writing -

‘I feel I have here always in the House a good, devoted soul… whose only object and interest is in my service, & God knows how much I want to be taken care of.’

For all their closeness and love, be romantic or otherwise, for one another, a life-long relationship was again not to be for Victoria. In March 1883 he caught a chill but refused to go to bed, continuing his devoted service to Victoria. Thus, on the 27th that same month, John Brown died, age 56, at Windsor Castle. Once again, Victoria found herself devastated at the death of the man she loved. She wrote -

‘It is not only the loss of a servant but of a real friend.’

Whilst her private secretary Sir Henry Ponsonby wrote of Brown -

‘He was the only person who could fight and make the Queen do what she did not wish. He did not always succeed, nor was his advice always the best. But I believe he was honest, and with all his want of education, his roughness, his prejudices and his other faults, he was undoubtedly a most excellent servant to her.’

After John’s death, Victoria commissioned a life-sized statue of her Highland servant, and had it placed in the grounds of Balmoral. She remembered her faithful John until her death in 1901, leaving strict instructions that shy must be buried, among much else, with a lock of his hair, a photograph of him, and wearing a ring given to her by John, that had belonged to his mother.

Although this request had been carried out, upon her death her son the new King Edward VII destroyed much material written by Victoria about Brown, busts and photographs of him, in addition moving Victoria’s statue of John to a less conspicuous site in Balmorals grounds where it remains today. Not only did Edward destroy as much evidence of Brown’s relationship with his mother as possible, Victoria had left her many diaries to her youngest daughter Beatrice to transcribe and edit for publication. This, of course, means much on John Brown, especially if explicit or inappropriate, would have been edited and the originals all burnt.

It seems we will never know the extent of Victoria and John Brown’s relationship, but from what we can piece together Victoria took much comfort, reliance and friendship from John, whilst he was a most loyal and honest servant to her. 

Sources - English Heritage, A N Wilson

Curtis Brothers Imagine - Secret job

Requested, thank you.

Full request: can you do an imagine where the reader is the middle sibling (younger than soda but older than pony) and she gets a job to help out without darry knowing, but he finds out after all the bills are paid

You walked in and plopped on the couch, exhausted. You had been working your ass off at this job you picked up to help Darry out without him knowing. You hated seeing him work so hard and still struggle. You would feel bad for Soda but he’s happy at work. The bills were due soon and you had saved up enough money to pay them. They job payed really well and you also picked up some cash doing odd jobs for people.

You roll over onto your side and as soon as you close your eyes and start drifting off to sleep the door slams open and the gang comes running in, screaming. Your eyes shoot open and you stand up angrily.

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis!”

You don’t give him a chance to react before you walk over and grab him by the shirt. You drag him into Pony’s room as you hear the gang joke and snicker about knowing Soda’s middle name. You shove him into the room and close the door behind you. You went into Pony’s room because Darry could hear you somewhere else and Pony found out about your job when you got hired. He had walked in on you and Soda talking about it and you had to pay him to keep quiet.

“Hey, pone.” Soda says with that dopey grin of his.

“Hey, Sodapop.” he says before turning back around.

“First, I was trying to sleep before you and your hooligan friends came running in and screaming like banshees. Second, I did it. With a little bit of help from you we can pay the bills without Darry having to pay a cent!” you smiled excitedly as you look at your brother in front of you.

“Hey, they aren’t hooligans and we don’t sound like banshees.” Soda defends, missing the entire second part of what you said.

“You kinda do.” Pony says from at his desk

“Thank you, Pony. And were you not paying attention? I said we can pay the bills without Darry having to pay anything!” You shake Soda slightly, trying to get him to pay attention.

Soda breaks into a hug grin and pulls you into a big hug.

“That’s amazing (y/n)!”

Soda pulls you into a hug before you lead him back out.

Pony walks out after you, clinging to your side. You ruffle his hair before wrapping an arm around him.

“You’re an alright kid. You know that, Pony?”

“Of course I do.” he grins.

You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Hey, what about me, (y/n)?” Dallas speaks up.

“Pipe down, Winston. I’m not interested in the elfish ones.”

He sits down, muttering to himself.

After a while Pony gets tired and you want to get away from the boys, so you decide to sit with him for a while. You tell Soda and Darry goodnight and walk into Pony’s room after him. He crawls into bed and you sit on the bed next to him.

“How’s school going, Pone?”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“You know if you need some help you can ask me.”

You talk with Pony until he falls asleep. You pull the covers over him and turn off his light before quietly heading to your room. You see Darry sitting in his chair, falling asleep. You walk over to him and shake him gently.

“Come on Dar, let’s get you to bed.”

You help him to his bed before going to your room and sleeping yourself.

In the morning you make get ready and get Soda up.

“Soda, come on. We gotta pay the bills before Darry tries.”

The two of you grab everything you need before rushing out of the house while shouting quick goodbyes and going to pay the bills.

After the bills are paid you rush home to see Darry trying to find the bills.

“Have you two seen the bills? I’ve been looking for them all morning.”

You shake your head, “Nope, sorry.”

After a while Darry comes into your room. You look up, smiling at him.

“Hey, Darry.”

He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, “So, I just got back from going to pay the bills.”

“I thought you couldn’t find them.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I was just hoping they’d be able to do it anyway. I had written down hoe much I owed.”

“That was real smart.”

He nods, “Yeah, they told me the bills were already paid. That a young woman and young man had paid them this morning.”

“Whaaaat? That’s crazy.”

“(y/n). I know you paid the bills. What I don’t know is how.”

“I’ve been working a job after school. Soda helped me out a little bit. I had to pay Pony to keep quiet about it.”

“(y/n), I’m fine working. I’d rather work than let you work for me.”

“It’s not fair. You work like an old man and you’re not even 25 yet. I’m not quitting my job.”

“You’re real sweet for doing this. Thank you.”

You nod, “You have to promise to stop working so hard though.”

“I’ll try.”

You smile and he pulls you to him, “Come on, kid. Let’s go do something.”

Braids & Bilbo

Also known as Imagine knowingthe intimacy of hair braiding to Dwarves, so you ask Bilbo to do it, simply to keep it out of your face. But Thorin sees and gets extremely jealous.

A/N - I really am feeling meh about this one to be honest. I can’t decide whether I like it or not but its late as it is so I’ll just put it on. Hope you enjoy it!

Words - 1,439
Pairing - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader
Imagine

You blew the long strand of hair from your face yet again.
The company had been riding for what seemed like hours and to make matters worse, it was stupidly hot.
The sweat made your hair stick to the sides of your face and made you even more uncomfortable.
You sighed and glared at Fili’s hair.
It wasn’t fair.
He had braids to keep his hair from sticking to his face.  
You shoved your hair back and growled as it fell in front of your eyes once again.
It was then you decided you had to find someone to braid your hair.
You’d do it yourself but you didn’t know how to braid hair, let alone your own.
Fili knew how to braid hair simply but you knew you couldn’t ask him unfortunately.
In Dwarven culture, hair braiding generally equated to courting or intimacy and you really didn’t fancy courting any of the dwarves.
Well, except Thorin.
You gazed at Thorin leading the pack of ponies with Fili beside him.
He probably wouldn’t mind (well at least you hoped not) but he was to be king.
He couldn’t go around braiding any old hair.
He especially couldn’t go around braiding a random human’s hair.
Balin would probably have a heart attack.
“Stop the ponies!” Thorin called from the front of the company.
You halted your pony beside the hobbit.
Then the idea struck you.
Would Bilbo know how to braid hair?

Keep reading

So I had some time to draw some more Battle Ready Baggins. This time, its inspired by a movie - for those of you who’ve seen ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, you remember the drinking challenge in the mountains with ol’ Harrison Ford’s love interest? Yup, that kind of scenario. 

“It was shortly after Bilbo almost faced death at the small village celebration that he found himself once again at another local tavern drinking far too much than his little hobbit body should. 

However, this wasn’t for fun - this was a challenge. 

Let’s backtrack for a moment - that next morning at the small village after the celebration; Bilbo, despite the hangover, had gotten up early to beat Thorin and his company out of the village. 

Bilbo really cared for Thorin and for the dwarves, he really did. But there was a quest he had to make and it was something he had to make alone. His trust in the dwarf king was quite minuscule, however it was more that he didn’t want to endanger Thorin and the company rather then his trust. 

This was going to be dangerous then the journey to Erebor. 

So, mounting his horse, Bilbo made a dash out of the village as fast as he could. He felt quite smug, snickering to himself and quietly speaking, “Silly dwarf.” He continued to make his merry way down the path towards the next settlement, pulling out his pipe for a smoke as he rode his horse. 

It wasn’t till a few hours late that he realized that he was being followed. He took off to hide and surprise his followers by hiding up in a tree, Sting ready in his hand. Though when his stalkers came into view, he grounded his teeth with a curse. 

Thorin couldn’t help the grin on his face when he looked up to the tree. Blasted Wizard, Gandalf had tipped them off.   

Bilbo kept his distance as Thorin and company followed. When they had finally reached the next settlement - a much larger town by a wide river - Bilbo made his way to the local tavern the minute he found his lodging. 

All he wanted was his quiet time, he wanted to be left alone. No dwarves, no Wizards, and no Elves. 

Not today - Thorin had entered the tavern with the company, though he made his way to the bar. Bilbo was ignoring him, smoking his pipe and running a figure around the rim of his small cup of ale.

THUNK!

A large bottle of hard liquor had been placed in front of him and Bilbo looked up to see Thorin to sit at the table across from him. Before he could object, Thorin presented a challenge. 

“I know you tire of our presence, so I’m willing to make a deal,” he tapped his finger on the table, “Actually - a wager.” 

Bilbo quirked an eyebrow, nodding for Thorin to go on. 

“If you can outdrink me before this bottle is empty, then I will leave you be and return to Erebor.”

Bilbo smirked, though before he could say anything, Thorin continued, “However-” 

“If you lose, you must sign a contract stating we - the Company of Thorin Oakenshield - are to accompany you to Mordor until that blasted trinket is thrown into the fire.” 

Bilbo was silent as he mulled over the details. Thorin had extended a hand, “Do we have a deal?”

The hobbit looked down to the larger hand, then smirked, “Deal.”

And that is how he found himself, one single shot glass away from possibly winning this blasted wager. 

Oh he tried to find ways to prevent himself from seeing double, using his swift hobbit reflexes to ‘accidentally’ spill his drink and switch it out with water from his leather canteen, or causing a distraction by spreading insults around the bar to raise a bar fight. In other words - Bilbo Baggins was trying to cheat. And why wouldn’t he? There weren’t exactly any rules to HOW the liquor was suppose to leave the bottle. He was simple trying to save himself the time. 

That is until Legolas had caught him AND Thorin cheating. Apparently Thorin was using his nephews took switch out the drinks with their own distractions - the boys were good with that of course. Legolas had promoted himself to moderator, so now they were both left no choice but to actually DRINK this hard liquor sitting between them. 

The bottle was tall, and so it was at least fifteen or so shots later that got him to this point. He was starring at the shot glass, forcing himself out of sheer will to raise the glass in his hands. He brought it to his lips, tipped his head back, and the burning liquid ran down his throat. 

When slamming the glass down top first onto the table, he promptly put his hands on his hips and gave his best, albeit goofy grin. 

The dwarves - Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Bofur were just starring at him, a mix of bewilderment and concern on their faces. Legolas had a hand to his mouth, eyeing Bilbo with a rather worried looked on his face. Gandalf however was curious.

“Did he really finish it?” Bofur asked.

“I think that was the last shot,” Fili said, a smile growing on his face, “Well done Bilbo!”

“To think! We had our doubts!” Kili declared.

Thorin sat in silence, inwardly regretting this whole decision. He could see that Bilbo was grinning, though he had the distinct feeling that something was wrong. 

Bilbo gave a hiccup and promptly fell off the chair. 

The dwarves panicked - 

“Oh Mahal we killed him!” Kili cried.

Thorin rose from his chair to tend to Bilbo, Bofur and Fili went to the bar to grab some water, and Kili was just panicking. Before the hobbit lost consciousness, he felt himself being carefully lifted from the ground.

-

The next morning came slowly to Bilbo as he opened his eyes to the sun shinning on his face. He groaned, feeling his whole body swaying as saw the trees pass by. Wait - trees?

Bilbo lifted his head up from the comfy fur he had been resting on and found that it was the fur of Thorin’s coat. And Thorin was in front of him, riding on his pony - or rather he was riding with Thorin on his pony. 

Bilbo looked back, seeing Fili and Kili on their ponies and leading his horse behind them. Kili waved, “Good morning Bilbo!” and all Bilbo could do was blink in confusion. 

He looked back to Thorin, gripping onto his coat again when he felt the dizziness cross over his vision. “Why am I here?” he rasped out, “I won that bloody wager.” 

“Not exactly,” Thorin looked over his shoulder to the hobbit. He leaned over to the pouch by Bilbo’s leg, and pulled out the empty liquor bottle, “You didn’t finish the bottle.” 

And true enough, there was just a bit left within the glass. It would be just enough for Thorin to have a taste. Bilbo had indeed lost the wager. 

“I’ll be requiring your signature on the contract when we reach a resting spot,” Thorin spoke, almost sounding smug, “In the meantime, get some rest.” 

Bilbo only groaned, his head collapsing onto the fur coat. 

“Thorin.”

“Yes.”

“Stop the horse.”

“It’s not a horse, it is a pony. And no, I will not.”

“Please stop the PONY.

A sigh, “Why?”

“Because if you don’t want me to puke all over that majestic fur coat of yours - Oh KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN - then you’ll stop the bloody pony or you’ll be King under the VOMIT!” ”


Oof. That was long.

And thank you @ickaimp for the lovely idea of hobbits and dwarves cheating at a drinking game. Also the vomit part too in the dialogue. :)

Stay tuned.

The Dress

Originally posted by morefelton

BUCKY ONE SHOT

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Y/N - Your name, Y/L/N - Your Last Name

REQUEST:  Can you write one in which the reader loves to use different styles from different years, like: 60s, 80s and then she decides to wear like the 40s and that makes Bucky so much happier somehow?

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!

Y/N looked at her outfit in the mirror; she was wearing a sky blue dress with a pattern of small white anchors throughout. It was synched at the waist and was short sleeved. She had curled her hair and pinned it up on her head to complete the look she was going for. She was going out for coffee with one of her old friends and wanted to make sure she looked good. Ever since she joined The Avengers she didn’t have any spare time for her friends, which made her feel guilty. Her friends were always there for her when she needed them and lately she wasn’t able to reciprocate. She had always been eccentric, particularly when it came to clothing. She loved wearing clothing from different eras and when she did she went all out. Her friends had always accepted this of her even and loved her for it. She took one last look in the mirror and walked out to the common room where Steve, Bucky, Nat, and Sam were watching TV.

Keep reading

i am a little sad i am no longer my own biggest fan.

welp -clears throat- 

@gowak is in the lead and @cloppy-pony (nsfw) is taking second but closing in @minimetea a good bean is trailing behind but @ask-treats-sweets is gaining on them using their drift to gain speed to what appears to sling himself by them!

Ya’ll should check out these cool blogs tho :0 they’re good beans.

I Missed You, Too

fili-kili-at-your-service, finally the last of the one-shots you requested! It’s a bit shorter than the others, but I hope you like it anyway! 

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Bofur x Reader

Summary: You get separated from your group and Bofur misses you

The grey light of the early hours of the morning illuminated the way as you climbed down the mountain, leading your pony behind you on a string. White clouds hung deeper in the sky than usual; maybe it would rain in a few hours. With a sigh you pulled your hat down, in an attempt to shield yourself from the wind. That was just your luck: Not only did you have to get separated from your group on your way to the next village, no, it also had to happen during the storm season. You had been travelling with a small company of toymakers, smiths and miners for almost a year now, moving from town to town looking for work. Yesterday you had fallen asleep on your pony after a sleepless night, and when you woke up you were all alone in the wasteland. You had no other option, but to try and carry on alone, hoping that the others would wait for you in the next village.

They probably would. Loyalty and friendship bound your group together, making it almost inseparable. With an absentminded smile you touched the side of your hat. It had been a present from Bofur, who you were particularly fond of. He was a toymaker from the Blue Mountains. Your shared homeland united you, even though you had never met before you joined the group. Still, he was the one you spend most of your time with and the two of you sat countless nights next to the dying fire, talking until the sun appeared at the horizon again. By now you were convinced he was your soulmate. If you were completely honest you had developed more than just friendly feelings for the funny dwarf. Luckily for you nobody seemed to have noticed, though, least of all Bofur.

You finally arrived at the foot of the mountain and with a relieved sigh you noticed the flickering lights of your destination were only a few miles ahead of you. Soon you would be reunited with your friends. With newfound energy you continued your way, even though you started to notice your lack of sleep. There would be enough time to rest when you were back where you belonged.

Bofur used to say that dwarves never belonged to places - their home was wherever their friends and family were. Now you realised he was right. When he had told you about his theory for the first time you hadn’t been so sure. You had been travelling a lonely road all day and at night the two of you had been resting next to a warming fire.

“That’s why I’m never homesick.” Bofur had said. “At least not when I’m in good company. A dwarf, I think, is never truly homeless unless he is alone.”

You had smiled at his words as you held your hands over the fire.

“That’s a nice theory.” You had answered. “But I still miss my family. Isn’t that being homesick, too?”

He had shrugged and scratched his head.

“In a way, yes. But as far as I’m concerned I’ve found a new family now.”

He had sent you a warm smile and your stomach seemed to twist and turn at his words.

“We better not lose each other, then.”

He had laughed at your answer, but suddenly his expression became thoughtful. After moment of silence he reached up and handed you his hat.

“So that you’ll remember me wherever you go. I might not always be there with you.”

Since that night you had never been seen without it.

Now that you were all alone in the wasteland you remembered his words. With a fond smile you tucked one of the ear-patches. You were glad to have this piece of your friend with you. It made you feel less alone.

‘I wont be alone for long.’ you reminded yourself. ’ I’m not a homeless dwarf.’

The sun was already high up in the sky when you finally entered the small town. You ignored the unfriendly looks the inhabitants sent your way professionally. You were used to them. Dwarves seldomly got a warm welcome.

It took you some time to find your people again. In fact you didn’t find them at all. It was Bofur who found you. You were riding through a small street when suddenly he busted out of a door with a happy scream. The pony shied and would have bolted if he hadn’t caught the handles. As soon as your feet hit the ground you found yourself trapped in a tight hug.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” He muttered into your ear. “You can’t just leave me alone!“

He released you and by now the rest of the group had gathered around the two of you, greeting you enthusiasticly. You we re pulled inside, where they gave you a blanket and told you to rest in front of the oven. You happily obliged.For a few hours you dozed, comforted by the presence of your friends.

When you woke up again the fire was almost out and the room was empty. Well, almost empty: Bofur was sitting next to you, a cup of tea in his hands. He sat motionless, his eyes fixed on the glowing coals.

"Bofur?” You muttered, sleep weighing heavy on your voice.

Instantly his head turned towards you, a smile forming on his face.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He grinned. “We’re finally awake, huh?”

Confused you searched the room with your tired eyes. It seemed as if the lack of sleep was catching up with you now. You rubbed your eyes with the palm of your hand, trying to ban the sleepiness. Of course it didn’t work. With a knowing smile Bofur offered you the cup in his hands.

“Where are the others?” You mumbled as you took the tea from his hands.

“They went to bed about an hour ago. It’s past midnight already.”

Your eyes widened as you realised that meant you had slept all day. Then your mind skipped to another question.

“Why are you still here then?” You asked with a frown.

Bofur shrugged.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone. And…I haven’t seen you for some time. I just couldn’t bring myself to walk away from you.“ He admitted hesitantly. 

You felt your cheeks heating up. 

"It’s been one day, Bofur!” You giggled. 

“It felt like an eternity to me, though.”

He looked at you with an embarrassed grin, which made you laugh even more. 

“I missed you, too, Bofur." 

brettanomycroft  asked:

For the Voltron ask meme: Allura, Pidge :)

Allura: What is your earliest, or favorite, childhood memory?

The absolute earliest thing I can remember is someone putting me into my crib at one of our old houses.

As for a favorite childhood memory, there was this one time my elementary school had an end-of-the-year fair type deal, and one of the things was a little carriage ride pulled by a pony. It was made so two people could ride it, but when I got on, I was by myself.

The lady who was leading the pony asked me if this was the princess ride, and I answered

“No, this is the evil queen ride.”

Pidge: Favorite and least favorite meme?

OH BOY. UM. Favorite meme is probably the Do It for Her/Him meme. And I would say my least favorite is……… I don’t know, I’m don’t care too much for the Shrek memes, so I guess those. :P

Thanks for the ask~

Yours

A Dwalin Fanfic

This will be another longer one, based on an imagine found here

The first time I had met Dwalin was in a pub not long before the quest started. I’d traveled there from the Iron Hills just for the thrill of doing something on my own instead of being followed wherever I went, insisting I needed protection.

My family didn’t like it but frankly I didn’t care.

So I’d made my way to the Blue Mountains, a reckless and dangerous journey for a lone female dwarf to take.

Well, not entirely alone, I was accompanied by my two axes.

Keep reading

ponyboy imagine for anonymous!

Last week, on exactly this day, was arguably one of the worst days you’d ever had. Last week, you walked in on your boyfriend of two years, Randy, sleeping with your best friend. Of course, you broke up with him and never talked to your best friend again. You ran out of the house, tears streaming down your face as Randy called after you. “Baby, it’s not what it looks like!” he yelled after you.You kept on running, because it was exactly what it looked like.


You had lived here your entire life and knew every road on your side of town inside and out. Maybe it was just the tears in your eyes that made it blurry, or maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t think straight. For whatever reason, though, you ended up on the east side of town. You didn’t realize it until you stopped hearing Randy calling your name, and took a moment to catch your breath. You realized why Randy stopped calling your name. He turned around, and went home. He didn’t want to be seen on this side of town. You quickly realized that you had no idea which way was home, and then you started panicking even more. You completely lost it at that moment, and started bawling harder than ever before. You were lost, cold, heartbroken, angry, and all alone. You sat down on a sidewalk up against a tree, curled up in a ball with your head tucked in. You stayed there for a good ten minutes before you heard a screen door slam shut, and footsteps approach towards you.


“You alright?” asked the sweet voice. You looked up, and saw a boy about your age with blonde, greased back hair, and blue hoodie. You wiped your tears off and stood up. “Yeah, I was just going,” you say. He stands with his hands in his pockets, and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes. You start to walk up the street, but the boy says something. “You sure you’re alright?” he calls after you. “I’m fine, why would you ask?” you say. He looks down at his shoes, then back at you. “Your side of town is back the other way,” he points out. “How’d you know?” “You’re too pretty to be a grease,” the boy says quietly. Somehow, this almost makes you smile. You probably would have been blushing if you hadn’t just been in such a bad mood. “I’m Ponyboy Curtis, by the way.” “I’m, *y/n*. Sorry about being such a trouble, I’m just having an awful night. I walked in on my boyfriend that I’d been dating for two whole years sleeping with my best friend since I was six. I’m lost in this neighborhood, I’m freezing, and…” you say, but pause to keep yourself from bursting out into tears yet again. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t care about my pathetic life,” you say after a few seconds. He shrugs his shoulders and walks towards you. He slips off his blue hoodie, and wraps it around you. It smells nice, and feels warm. “I can’t fix everything, but maybe I can cross a couple of those problems off your list. Do you want me to walk you home?” he asks. “Why are you being so nice to me? I thought greasers and  soc’s weren’t supposed to get along…” “I don’t like putting labels on people. Let’s say for tonight, we’re just people,” he says, and walks you home. Somehow, that walk made you feel 100x better. Everything he said calmed you down and made you forget about Randy. The only bad thing was, he was a greaser, and you were a soc. You thanked him right before you went into your house, and secretly watched him walk back home through the front window. You knew you’d never see him again.


That was last week, but this was now. You forgot to give back Ponyboy’s jacket, so it lay on your dresser. You loved the smell of it. School that week had been complete hell, because everybody knew about you and Randy. It was friday night, and you were determined to have a good time. You went out to the drive-in with a group of friends that discluded the one who slept with Randy. You didn’t really like them much, but you just needed to get out of the house.


At the drive in, you went to the concession stand to get some soda for you and your friends. The line was really backed up, so you would be there for a while. While looking around, you suddenly saw somebody you never would have expected to see here. It was Ponyboy. He made eye contact with you, but then he looked away immediately. Did he not remember you? It was only a week ago. You waited a few seconds, but then decided to lose your place in line, and go back to say something to him.


“You embarrassed to talk to me or something?” you ask him. He smiles real big. “Why you smilin’?” you ask lightly. “Because, I thought you’d be embarrassed to talk to me.” “Well, I just came here to tell you that I accidentally kept your hoodie that night.” “Don’t worry about it.” “Why not?” “Because, it might give me a chance to see you again sometime,” he says smoothly. You grin toothlessly, and roll your eyes. “So what movie are you here to see?” you ask. “I don’t even know. I only came because I’ve got nothin’ better to do.” “Same here actually,” you say. There’s a pause, but you break it. “Wait, why are we even here?” you laugh. “Don’t know.” “Okay, well I’m gonna’ go. I don’t like the drive-in’s anyways,” you say, and he stands there shocked. You open the door, and turn around. Ponyboy hasn’t moved. “Well, are you comin’ or not?” you smile. He looks up from the ground, and grins at you.


The two of you go on a walk through the backroads, and talk about everything and anything. Soc’s, greasers, music, relationships, friends… everything. You hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time, and you really did like being around Pony. It was better than being around your prim and proper soc friends who didn’t know how to joke around.


After a few hours, you get tired, and Pony leads you home. When you get there, before going in, you stop and stand face to face with him.  “You’re somethin’ special, you know that Ponyboy?” you smile. “I don’t know, I thought I was just an average guy.” “Come on, the average guy would not come out of his house in the freezing weather of the night, and walk a girl all the way to the other side of town, and give her his jacket,” you say. Pony blushes and shrugs his shoulders. “You know, you’re pretty special, too. I never thought you’d ever talk to me again.” “Oh, come on Ponyboy. After all, we’re only people,” you say, and lean in to kiss him.

4

I normally wait until Christmas to make my anniversary post about GG, but I think this year it’s okay to make that post a bit earlier than usual.

Nearly a month ago I took GG to his (and my) very first obstacle trail class. Being a blind horse, I expected to run into a few problems - however, after schooling on the course a mere 20 minutes, he’d already picked up the concept and ran it flawlessly. We pulled third place, which I was thrilled with. Then, it turns out we also got a Horsemanship Award for guiding a blind horse around an obstacle course.

On Christmas Day, it will have been 5 years since I first laid eyes on GG. At the time, he was a run down ranch horse no one wanted with a bolting problem, bought from auction for the pocket change price of $225. He didn’t know how to trot well under saddle, and had no idea what leads were.

Now, he’s the steadiest, most reliable horse I have ever sat on. He’s taught many of my friends and family how to ride - some even took their first rides on him. He taught @mule-madness how to post the trot and control the canter on a horse that had some enthusiasm, @think-like-a-thoroughbred how to sit the canter and how to ask for a leg yield, and he gave my younger cousin, @outclouding, the confidence to trot in a wide open field. And there no counting how much he’s taught me over the years.

He’s a favorite of everyone who meets him, from his his farrier, to his vet, to even his chiropractor. He’s the pride and joy of my grandmother, who regularly spoils him with treats.

GG has been through a lot in his life. He’s overcome his rough life as a ranch horse, suffering corneal scarring over both eyes, and even being run through a barbed wire fence on one terrifying occasion. Yet he still remains perky and ready to work, always looking for some kind of job. He’s lead trail rides, ponied young horses who tried to bite and cause mischief, and has shown in Dressage and won.

GG is truly a horse I can call “inspirational,” and I am so, so blessed to have him in my life. To five years, buddy, and to many more. Truly, the best blind horse ever.