upset horse

controllerhorse  asked:

*Takes Pastel's glasses and quickly smooches her on the cheek before lightly jogging away.*

Pastel: What….j–… I have so many questions… H-hey My glasses!


Mod: Sorry I haven’t been posting much And they aren’t really questions.. I will try to answer actual questions and such. Also, Im going to be answering asks for Milk Tea now

knappl replied to your post “how………………… embarrassing would it be……………… if i drew a genyatta…”

But it’s a good idea

@knappl you know what

you’re absolutely right

Motion Sickness

Bucky Barnes x Shy Reader

Summary: Bucky, reader, and the rest of the Avengers go to a carnival on their night off. 

Word Count: 1,998

Warnings: language, panic attack, carnival rides (?), and fluff. (Let me know if I missed any)

A/N: Hey guys, so this is my first fic lol. I was a little nervous to post it on here… I hope you guys like it. I’d love to hear what you have to say! Thanks for reading. :)

 P.s. this will probs be long bc I’m horrible with getting rid of words lol don’t hate me pls. 

It has been a while since you and the Avengers had a night out all together, so you guys decided to go somewhere. When out for their early morning run, Steve, Bucky, and Sam saw a poster for a carnival that was coming to town during the weekend. 

The three of them thought this would be a great thing to do to get their minds off of the stress works caused recently, with saving the world and all. Out of the three, Bucky was definitely jumping up and down on the inside. It’s been a while since he’s attended one, give or take 70 years. 

Once they shared the news with everyone else, they all agreed with the idea of going. You, on the other hand, were nervous to say the least. Being the one who only played the games in the booths rather than taking risks and trying the big rides, you wondered if this was really the best situation for you. You knew someone was going to drag you on a ride whether you liked it or not, so you really didn’t have a choice. 

Keep reading


Requested by anon

“See, I told you you could do this.” You were riding around a small patch of field outside of Paris, the horse beneath you responding well to you and you going slower than perhaps anyone else would have, but you hadn’t fallen off or upset the horse. You were doing your best and Aramis was right, with more practice you’d be able to do this properly.

International Multi-Sport Event Coverage: Dressage

How to

Dressage is not about putting horses in clothing, even though that sounds like it would be a great idea.  Nothing too restrictive that will make the horse upset. Maybe a nice sundress, some linen culottes. Whatever.

To be a successful competitor in the horse-based sport of dressage, both rider and equestrian must perform a series of memorized tasks involving different types of trots, gallops, and canter. Together, this fancy footwork makes up the ride.


The ride is rated on the following scale:

  • 10 – Excellent
  • 9 – Very good
  • 8 – Good
  • 7 – Fairly good
  • 6 – Satisfactory
  • 5 – Marginal
  • 4 – Insufficient
  • 3 – Fairly Bad
  • 2 – Bad
  • 1 – Very bad
  • 0 – Not executed

It is the opinion of Staff that all horses are 10 Excellent. All horses should win.

Quadrennial top medal match-ups: Dressage

  • Monday, August 15 at 9 a.m. EST: individual dressage

Famous horses from history

  • Secretariat
  • Li’l Sebastian
  • The horse with no name

Good horse Tumblrs

  • @dressagehub describes itself as having everything you need to know about dressage.
  • @equine-images has the dream job you didn’t know existed: professional equine photographer
  • @i-draw-one-hundred draws 100 of a thing and then moves on to the next one. They’re currently on horse 98, so get over there fast.

anonymous asked:

Could you do one with the Attack On Titan boys (including Erwin, Levi, and Mike) cheering up their girlfriend?

((I had a lot of fun with this one, I made myself squeal while writing about Erwin))

Eren: I can see Eren being the type to think training is he best way to get your mind off things so he would have his girlfriend come and train with him. It wouldn’t really work at first cuz come on Eren really? you think exercise is fun? But eventually it would be kinda fun, Eren would probably mimic Sasha and Connie and try teaching her outrageous moves. Even if he is a little embarrassed because he’s acting so silly the smile on his girlfriends face when she watched him would make it worth it.

Armin: Books, Armin would hunt down the most interesting book he could find. A fantasy novel about far off lands filled with amazing creatures dashing heroes fair maidens and adventure. or a mystery novel that’s full of twists and turns and big reveals. Armin would read to his girlfriend with so much enchantment that nobody could stay down in the dumps. He would want to get his girlfriend’s mind off her troubles for a short time, of course he would still talk with her about why she was upset afterwords.

Jean: *Insert horse joke here* Jean would take his girlfriend on a horseback ride, he would sneak some bread and share it with her by the river. He would think a change of scenery would brighten her mood, I mean they spend everyday either training or being so serious. So just relaxing and just being teenagers would in his opinion be a good idea, to stop and smell the roses to take in the peaceful scenery they never have time to admire.

Marco: It may sound really boring but Marco would think a good nap would help his girlfriend feel better. They live such a stressful life and sleeping sadly isn’t priority. So a peaceful nap to Marco would sound like a good was to ease his girlfriend. Surprisingly enough it really would work, who wouldn’t love taking a calming nap with their cute freckled boyfriend???

Reiner: He would take his girlfriend to dinner, treat her to a nice meal. Wine and dine the little lady, who could stay sad when your bara boyfriend is treating you like a princess? Reiner, like Jean would think doing something different would help his girlfriend feel better. A bit of normality goes a long way, they are teenagers after all and they have every right to act that way sometimes. 

Bertholdt: He would hate to see his girlfriend so unhappy, it would just about break his heart. Bertl would take his girlfriend for a walk during sunset, he wouldn’t want to push his girlfriend to do anything she didn’t want to do. Something simple and relaxing like walking hand and hand would be the best thing in his eyes. It would work wonders, Bertl is a gentle giant and him being so sweet and concerned about her would make any girl feel better.

Connie: He’s the funny guy, so naturally jokes would be his go to tactic. Though it may not work at first since his girlfriend is used to his jokes and funny personality. So he may have to try a different method to cheer her up, he would try something like playing cards or taking her to a lake to skip stones. It may not sound that fun but oddly enough it would work, his girlfriend would be able to tell that Connie was concerned about her and he was trying to be serious about the issue. Connie would be a really good cuddler in these kind of circumstances too.

Levi: He’s not good with things like this, what was he supposed to do? He would rack his brain trying to think of what he could do to cheer her up, he may even ask Hanji or the cadets for suggestions. (though he would tell them not to breath a word about it) Even though he loves his girlfriend very much he can’t spoil her in terms of buying her something like a new dress or dinner or something like that. I can see Levi being more open in a sense that he would ask if she wanted to hold his hand or do more things together. He would tell a lot of poop jokes too.

Erwin: I can see Erwin being really cute in his attempts, he would give her a stack of paperwork to do which would piss her off at first but work is work so she would do it. As she gets through a few papers she would find little notes Erwin stuck to the documents, cute little messages like ‘I saw a pair of love birds this morning, it was you and I in the mirror’ or  ’I bet you were really angry with me when I gave you work, fooled ya didn’t I?’ He would also ask her little questions like which of the cadets are the cutest in her opinion or if he should change his hair style. Silly things like that would totally make her smile and once she gets to the last document the last note would read ‘I love you <3’

Mike: Since he has such a good sense of smell he may go for something that is pleasing to the senses, he would buy her a dessert he thought she would like and the best smelling flowers he could get his hands on. He would give his girlfriend lots of secret kisses making sure his whiskers tickled her each time so he could hear her giggle. Mike always has a naturally calming vibe about him so just having him hold her in his arms would do a lot of help. He may dote on her a little more then usually, offer to make her tea or coffee or if she needed anything. Just simple acts like that would improve any girls mood.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Esmeralda [ESTP]

OFFICIAL TYPING by Charity / the Mod

Extroverted Sensing (Se): Esme is a very dynamic, present woman – from dancing and performing on the streets for money, to participating as a star attraction in the Festival of Fools, to defying Frollo by freeing Quasi despite orders to the contrary, and fleeing into the church for sanctuary. She doesn’t hesitate to act, using a candelabra to attack Phoebus, and then saving his life later by throwing a stone to upset Frollo’s horse. She leaps into the water and saves him from drowning, then carries him to Notre Dame to entrust him to Quasimodo. Even though she’s “scared” as Quasi helps her escape, Esme doesn’t seem troubled by his admission that he’s never “done this before".

Introverted Thinking (Ti): She has a certain amount of detachment, and doesn’t mince words when telling Frollo what she thinks about him. Esme uses her logic to make a swift but impressive escape, then reasons that Quasi is the best person to protect Phoebus. She is somewhat oblivious to his feelings, failing to notice his crush on her, in favor of turning her focus to more immediate solutions.

Extroverted Feeling (Fe): Esme loves the crowd and knows how to inspire them. She moralizes at Frollo, by telling him he humiliates and persecutes Quasi, just like “my people”! Esme clearly thinks in terms of group dynamics; rather than pray for her own desires in the church, she begs God to have mercy on all the outcasts, those poor, mistreated and alone. She appeals to Quasi on an emotional level, and doesn’t hesitate to validate him in many ways (she’s impressed by his artistic abilities, she shows him his lifeline and affirms that he isn’t a monster, etc.). Esme has no problem asserting her feelings, either, even if it’s only to spit in Frollo’s face.

Introverted Intuition (Ni): When Frollo enters the church and orders her arrest, Esme leaps immediately to the wrong conclusion – that Phoebus was distracting her long enough for his boss to come along; she doesn’t respond well to him, until he later proves himself trustworthy. She doesn’t think through the ramifications of fleeling inside the church (“gypsies don’t do well inside stone walls”).

The Rebel and the Rose. Part Three. Chapter Three.

Previous: Part’s One, Two, and Three.

(NB: A single ‘f’ in Welsh is pronounced as a ‘v’ :))

Since their talk she had been sleeping better but she still had uneasy dreams. As he fell into his own slumber he prayed tonight she’d sleep well.

He was woken only a few hours later by the sound of her struggling. He hated to do it but she’d been tugging at the wounds on her wrists as if trying to free them from imaginary bindings, which caused the cuts to reopen and bleed mercilessly, and he’d been forced to take hold of her hands and pry them away as she did this.

She squealed and pulled a little, trying to get away from his hold over her. She’d started to shake, spurred on by the terror of her dreams as her sweat soaked the sheets beneath her. The only thing to bring her round was Jamie. He’d discovered that one particular Gaelic folk story soothed her more than most and he started to whisper in her ear. Strange stories of kelpies and underwater giants with silken skin. Her hands stilled now, wrapped as they were in Jamie’s, as her breathing evened out. His calm voice echoing in her ears, bringing her out of the darkness.

Letting his hands relax against hers he began to kiss the hollow behind her ear, stopping every now and again to continue his story. He felt her tense and then relax as she finally came awake.

“It’s me, Claire. Only me. Dinna fash.” His voice covered her, her chest suddenly feeling warm. She slowly opened her eyes as he loosened his hold on her hands further. He’d been there in her dreams again, his cruel face pressed against her cheek as he’d spat mocking words at her. She’d been chained, bound and unable to move as he’d surrounded her. Her toes curled at the mere thought as she wet her lips.

“Some nights I get so lost in my nightmares that I’m almost certain I’ve dreamt you into life once more, that I’ll wake and I won’t be in your arms but in that cold cell.” Her breathing stumbled as he pulled her close to soothe her.

“Ye dinna need…Claire…”

“No, Jamie. I want to tell you,” she stopped him, before he could tell her she needn’t continue. She needed to get it all out. “There are those moments when the fear sets in and then I feel this…warm throb by my side and I cling to it. I know, deep down, that I’m dreaming. So I push myself towards you, and when I wake in your arms I thank God that you’re here, that you rescued me.”

She buried her head then, inhaling his sleepy scent as her hands fisted in the soft fabric of his shirt, grounding herself in him.

“Oh, Claire. I love ye so.” He had no more words. He could envision the horrors of an English prison and he had no wish for her to linger there any longer, even in her sleep. “I’m here, no’ a dream, and I’ll never leave ye again. Ever.”

They lay together for a time, just allowing the silence to float around them. Claire hadn’t left the room since they’d arrived except to go into the lounge that linked to the bedchamber. He watched her as she turned towards him. Her cheeks were tinted a slightly dark peach but overall she was incredibly pale.

“Claire, how do ye fancy helping wi’ the animals? There’s a couple that need tending. I think it might do ye good no’ to be hidden away in here.” She looked nervous at the prospect, her brows drawn together as she contemplated his suggestion.

“I-I don’t know much about animals, only a little about human healing.”

“Claire, a nighean, ye canna go from one prison to another. We needed to stay inside for a wee while, just in case anyone came this far looking for us. But now, yer healed more and we should be safe. Ye dinna need to lock yerself away.” He locked their fingers together, trying to reassure her with his touch. “Dinna fear, Claire.”

“Alright.” She tried to make it sound more confident than she felt as she pursed her lips and nodded. She knew he was right, she had to leave at some point. “After breakfast I’ll go out, I promise.”

“Ach, a good choice. I’ll take ye, then me and Murtagh have some business to attend to. I’ll feel much happier if yer out keeping yerself occupied.” He smiled, a wolfish grin that showed off his teeth. “Ye’ll have fun, I know ye will.”

He had food brought to them and they ate in peaceful silence by the glowing embers of the un-stoked fire. It was warm enough now that they didn’t need it replenished, but it was nice nonetheless to have the small burst of warmth surround them.  

Once he’d made sure she had a full belly he helped her to dress and walked her to the stables. The tavern had a small farm attached to the back; only a small array of animals but enough to keep Claire occupied for a few hours. They were mostly in good health but he had noticed a few had the odd sore here and there. She’d take good care of them. He’d always been good with horses and he kent how calming they could be. He was sure it was the perfect way to help her overcome some of her newly acquired fears.

Jamie left Claire in the capable hands of one of the young lassies. They fed the wee lambs, cleared the stables and completed general chores. When they were done she took Claire to see the horses. One large dappled mare stood alone in a rather large stable away from the others.

“She’s far gone, you see. About to drop any day now. So she’s alone. I’m sure she’d love a bit o’ company if you have time, mistress.”

Claire nodded as she walked towards the stall. The mare in question, Afal, aptly named ‘Apple’ in Welsh, stood braying at her door.

“I’ll leave you a brush, she likes that. She can get a little…tense. But don’t fear, just rub her belly, it’ll calm her.” With that she handed Claire a little half flat brush and left.

Claire stood for a time, her hands fiddling with the wooden bristles beneath her fingers. Afal watched her, her massive black eyes standing sharp but soft in the dim light of the stable. She watched as she swayed to and fro, her distended tummy leaning to one side and then the other as she got herself comfortable.

“You’re going to be a mother, such a beauty, I’m sure it’ll be the most desirable foal.” Claire took one step closer, talking in a hushed soft voice the entire way. “I didn’t ever know my mother, really, nor am I one.” Her tone held a hint of sadness, her eyes watered and she blushed feeling a little silly for getting upset over a horse.

She held her hand up, palm down as Jamie had taught her and allowed the mare to sniff her. Her big nostrils flared and snorted as she took stock of her new acquaintance. She nodded her head once, flipping her mane as she did so. Claire took that as a sign of acceptance and opened the stall door.

“Look how big you are!” she exclaimed, walking along Afal’s side, her hand running gently over her soft short hair. Afal moved her head, watching Claire with interest as she went. The minute she started massaging her side Afel dipped her head and whinnied. In that moment Claire felt something pass between the two of them, she laid her head against the mare’s’ belly as she rubbed and just let the words flow from her.

“I remember seeing a baby born. It was one of the most magical things I’ve ever witnessed. I think uncle Lamb saw it in my eyes at that moment. It wasn’t long after that he suggested I be married.” Afal swished her tail, the ends fanning Claire as she continued almost unconsciously. “I’d accepted it probably wasn’t to be, I turned thirty, I was still alone.”

She allowed the tears to fall then, dripping down her cheeks as she hiccuped. Her hands never ceased rubbing the unborn foal, keeping her companion happy.

“I don’t know who I am anymore, I feel like half a person. All of this…” She sighed, a heaviness weighing on her heart. “He should have left me there to die. He should have returned to his men. I’m just a burden to him now, a wanted traitor with nothing to offer but half an existence.”

Unable to continue she lost herself in brushing Afal, the sweeping sound of the bristles against her lush coat filling Claire’s ears and taking away the constant clink she now heard. No matter what she did, her time in prison hovered over her like a dark stain.

“Maybe it would be for the best if I just disappeared. He can’t even get a decent night sleep by my side.” she whispered, coming face to face with Afal now. “All this time waiting for me to recover, it’s just holding him back. He could be long gone by now.”

She let her forehead rest against Afal’s as she stroked her neck lovingly, her face red from crying.

Jamie stood with his back against the side of the stable. He’d meant to surprise Claire but what he’d heard sliced his heart in two. She was contemplating running away? He had to find a way to make her see how much he truly needed her. His hand unconsciously ran over his chest as his lungs constricted painfully.

Steeling himself, he pushing himself around the corner and into the small space. She had her back to him, her shoulders were shaking. She was crying.

“Claire…” Her name fell off his tongue like a sad prayer, filled with longing. He swallowed back the emotions gathering in his throat and willed himself to hold it together. He was going to make no mention of what he’d heard.

When she turned to face him, she’d wiped her face trying hard to hide the evidence of her tears from him. Her eyes shone like finely aged whisky, the moisture swimming in their golden depths. Her nose was a little red and her lips were trembling. She felt so raw, having not addressed these feelings before now, not even realising she felt this destroyed.

“J-Jamie.” She nearly didn’t manage to speak at all. Her hands hid behind her back as she tried to stop herself from worrying at her wrists. “Have you done for the day?”

“Aye. Would ye like to come for a ride wi’ me. There’s a place I’d like to show ye? If yer up to it.”

When looking at the history of National Socialism and it’s proponents and what strikes you the most is that some Nazis liked animals you have major empathy issues. You’re literally putting the theoretical lives of some animals (Nazis didn’t even have a major impact on animal welfare in Germany and Europe) over the very tangible lives of the millions of people brutalized and murdered by your “animal loving” Nazis.

I recall reading the transcripts for a conversation between a Nazi pilot and a fellow POW describing his adventures. He casually described knowingly dropping bombs on civilians in Eastern Europe. He said he didn’t feel sorry for the people he killed at all. The only thing he regretted was how many horses were killed while he annihilated human beings. Dropping bombs on those horses upset him but he felt nothing when dropping them on people.The people were the targets, the horses were unfortunate collateral damage, they happened to be standing a little too close to the Nazis intended targets. Mothers with children, the elderly, fathers and their sons, and not a single one of them was worth as much as a horse. That’s not an example of a redemptive quality that’s a perfect illustration of just how demented and utterly cruel the Nazis were.

For the anon that asked me about the whips, my phone is being stupid and wouldn’t let me post it.

But anyways, this is the one thing I hate about racing. Are the whips, with all these new studies about the horses skin is thinner then ours. Many tracks are changing the rules. Many riders are upset because some horses will ignore you, yelling doesn’t always help. The whip is there to make them go, to pay attention. Which I don’t agree with, if we do take whips away only a few horses will take their riders serious. I say riders can have their whip, but only use it less then 10 times. Until people actually ride a racehorse Ill listen to what they have to say. But if not please dont make a remark on this post.