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.

okay here it is: the avengers if they were horses

here we go

  • cap is one of those mass-produced tbs that did absolute shit at racing and got sold for like no dollars but then someone Saw Something Special, picked him up and bulked him up, and now he is an eventing dynamo
  • bucky was a solid qh type ranch horse who was cap’s lead pony at the races but then he got a stifle injury and they sold him off, and he was auctioned around until he developed major training issues due to bad riding and abuse, and ended up picked up by a slaughter broker only to be rescued by someone who recognized him from the track, but he can’t be ridden because he’s a wreck from the abuse, and so now he just chills in a pasture (ok i know he’s not an avenger fuck off)
  • falcon is another ranch horse who was used to move cattle on a ranch, and because he was solid As Fuck and had a great temperament someone bought him off the ranch to do bigger and better things with him
  • tony is the super well bred expensive warmblood with great movement and natural talent but they weren’t breeding for Personality so he is a major prize winner who is also a neurotic douche who hates being stuck in a stall and needs like 10 types of slow feeder toys to keep him sane
  • rhodey is a jumper with a solid career and excellent temperament. They put him in the stall next to tony so that he could be a good influence. it isn’t working.
  • nat is one of those polish arabians with somewhat uncertain heritage in the first place, and got picked up by chance and nobody is 100% sure about her breeding, but she’s scary smart and a beautiful mover. Everyone is a little nervous to ride her bc she’s Tricky but she’s a brilliant horse if you get on her good side
  • thor is an icelandic horse with majestic hair who spends 90% of his time racing around the icelandic wilderness, but the minute you need him for a show or just to give a little kid a riding lesson, he shows up and knocks everyone’s socks off. he knows he is beautiful you don’t have to tell him
  • clint is an old show horse who has been there, seen that, and now he’s a lesson horse because he’s a nice guy/won’t murder the children when they kick him in the ribs, however if they are real dicks he will buck them off in .02 seconds and go jump a fence and eat grass
  • hulk is a percheron, huge and terrifying to small people, but he’s really friendly and he just wants to help by hauling logs and stuff around, but also watch out because if you spook him too bad he will trample you and you will Die
  • fury is one of those hardcore scarred up mustang stallions that people respect from a distance. He’s almost a local legend because of how rarely he’s seen and how impressive he is, and periodically people think he’s dead because he hasn’t been seen in a while, but he’s always out there…

end of list good bye

Alone, Until I Get Home (13/?)

Summary: In Boston, Henry Swan’s six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled “Once Upon a Time” hidden beneath the seat in their mom’s old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.

Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she’s pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.

Who’s powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

Also on: AO3

Tagging: @el-kelpo @m98h@strawberrycupcakeprincess@crisanja@superchocovian @adeelam @andiirivera @cinnamonduckling@mez86​ @tiganasummertree


Chapter 13

Henry gleefully drops his wooden practice sword onto the ground and throws himself down next to it.

Holy shit,” he pants.

Chuckling, Hook (who’s not even breathing hard, the absolute bastard) sits down on a stack of dock pilings.

“You didn’t know learning swordplay would be such a workout, did you?”

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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

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?

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Johnny x Reader Help

Request: could you do an imagine where the reader is helping johnny after he was jumped? the whole gang tries to help but the only one really getting through to him is the reader??

You were currently at the Curtis’ place hanging out with the gang. It wasn’t a school night so you could stay all night if you really wanted to, you weren’t going to though. The reason you were there was just to hang out with the gang for a little while longer, you always enjoyed their company and they enjoyed yours. Everyone was there other than Johnny; no one knew where he was but guessed he was at the lot like usual.

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coyote waltz

“My hand goes on your waist,” Show Pony said, moving closer, “and yours goes on my shoulder.” Then he brought their free hands together, tangling their fingers and squeezing, gently.

“I got two left feet,” Party muttered, staring at the floor like it insulted his mother.

“That’s why I’m leading,” said Pony, with a smirk.

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.

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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.

draganchitsa  asked:

slides into your askbox late because i'm that asshole asking for some aegon x betha.

It is Ser Duncan who catches her eye first. He is so very tall, and Betha isn’t certain she has ever met a man so obstinate about how a knight should be. Her father’s knights certainly do not care so much about their vows, and the Bracken knights are even worse.

She does eventually notice Egg. He’s rather hard to ignore, very brazen for somebody who is only a squire to a hedge knight. Betha takes in his bald head and insolent expression and thinks that inflicting him on the Brackens might do nicely. He does seem so very eager to go, and he can almost out talk Betha.

Almost.

I should visit Pennytree anyway,” Ser Duncan says, slowly. “On account of Ser Arlan.”

Egg nods eagerly and readies the horses. He doesn’t seem to realise that Betha is still there until she leads her pony out into the yard. He gapes at her and Betha scowls at him, looking away as she puts her foot in the stirrup and swings easily into her saddle.

You can’t come,” he insists. “There’s fighting, and you’re a girl.”

Betha tosses her head and scowls at him again.

“I’m a Blackwood,” she tells him firmly, “and Pennytree is a Blackwood village.”

Ser Duncan looks between the two of them, frowning, and Betha thinks he’s going to try to stop her so she digs her heels into the sides of her pony before he can try. It’s only a moment before she hears hoof beats behind her, but she’s out the gate by then, and the Blackwood men know better than to stand in her way.

Egg catches up to her a little way down the road and he’s smiling. He almost looks impressed. Betha doesn’t care about impressing him. She only cares about ending the fighting, and if Ser Duncan and Egg can help then she’ll consider them friends, and be glad of their company.

The Great Unknown

Summary: As if it wasn’t bad enough to fall in a random hole in a road and find yourself in Middle Earth, travelling with Thorin Oakenshield and his company, but also get turned into a dog by Gandalf. And when the wizard doesn’t even know how it happened or how to turn you back, you could only hope that this was just a bad dream. But is it?

Pairing: Thorin’s company x Reader

Words: 1942

Author’s note: I’ll be gone a week and a half, so I’m not sure when I’ll be posting next chapter.

Previous chpaters

You ran back to the trolls camp, cursing silently the dwarves. Of course you could forgive them the fact that they didn’t understand you most of the times, but when they did and didn’t care, even mocked at you… Well, that’s something you couldn’t forgive. They were so indifferent that it was actually a wonder none of them died until they reached Erebor. But because of stupidity of certain two and events that happened after that, they lost most of their supplies and the ponies. 

You sneak in the bushes and stop there, getting down. You watch as the three trolls talk about the food, but you do not spot the Hobbit.

“Where are you Bilbo?” you whisper, looking around the camp. You didn’t see him. You sigh and are about to move, when one of the trolls sneezes to his handkerchief and few seconds later he lets out a scream. You lift your head, surprised. There he was, on top of the handkerchief, covered in trolls snot. You lift your upper lip and move your tongue out, as if you tried to get something out of your mouth. The sight of Bilbo covered in snot was disgusting and you felt bad for him.

Then the troll threw him on the ground, as if he was some sort of bug climbing on teenyboppers arm. You wanted to giggle to the thought, but you knew better not to. You didn’t want to get caught.

Keep reading

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." 

anonymous asked:

Ponyboy going on his first date would include...

  • Darry and Sodapop trying to give Ponyboy money for a movie and milkshakes at Jay’s afterwards.
  • Ponyboy trying to refuse, but his big brothers insisting. He only accepts it when they tell him to think of it as an, ‘early allowance.’
  • Sodapop giving Ponyboy advice on how to sneak subtle touches with his date. “Make it like you’re yawning, then put your arm around their shoulder. Works every time, Pone, I’m tellin’ ya.”
  • Two-Bit asking, “Who’d you pick that up from, Darry?”
  • Everyone turning to Darry, who stood back, arms crossed over his chest and amused grin gracing his features.
  • “Wait, Darry had moves?”
  • “Wait, Darry had dates?” Pony himself teased with a smile.
  • “Hell yeah, Darry had dates! Ask him about Second Base Stace.”
  • “Whoa, Dare!”
  • “I’ll tell y’all about it later. We gotta get Pone ready for his date.”
  • Two-Bit adding some change to the pile (for theater snacks) and telling him, “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
  • Soda replying with, “But what wouldn’t ya do, Two?”
  • Dally’s, “S’if a broad could stand to be around ya for more than five minutes, never mind let you take ‘em out.”
  • “More like five seconds!” Steve pipes up from the couch, seeing as he’s more interested in his tv program than seeing Pony off for his date.
  • Laughs and snorts all varying by intensity filling the room, much to Two-Bit’s dismay. “I do just fine for myself, thank you very much.”
  • “Yeah, okay, Two.”
  • Ponyboy welcoming the usual commotion, as it let his mind slip from how nervous he was to take you out.
  • The sound of everyone’s bickering nearly drowning out the soft knock, knock, knock, and the heat rising to Pony’s cheeks when he realized you were at the door.
  • Everyone giving a chorus of, ‘Hi, (Y/N)!’s and ‘Bye, (Y/N)!’s as Ponyboy grabs you by your hand. Pony leading you down the porch steps and away from the house as quickly as possible before anyone could embarrass him in front of you.
  • Darry yelling, “Don’t forget about curfew!” at your retreating figures, and then adding “But forget what Two-Bit told you!” as an afterthought.
  • “But, which part?”
  • All of it!
  • You asking what Two-Bit told him.
  • It is too late. He is embarrassed.
  • The silence in the living room only lasting a few moments after Ponyboy’s departure. 
  • Johnny asking, “Is it later yet?” Much to everyone’s surprise, as all eyes fell on the eldest Curtis.

(A/N): I just assumed this ask meant the boys getting him ready for his date oops. Also, I got Second-Base Stace from Perks. I always imagined the boys being kind of like pigs when talking about girls, but Darry has definitely matured since then dw