#eventing horse

[eventingonline]

New minisode online

[mysunshinetemptress]

Patience

Alexia putellas x equestrian!reader

Warnings:rushed shitty writing, not proofread

“Vamos!” You shout arms outstretched above your head in relief and excitement as you watch the Spanish girls dance around the pitch hugging one another and thanking their Japanese opponents, your mamí wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you into a hug “Oh, Potro, eso fue increíble” You let out a small laugh hugging her tighter “Conozco a Mamí y esto es solo el principio, VAMOS ESPAÑA”

You smile watching the team happily talk to each other about the match that has just taken place before deciding to call it a night, you had one final training session before you would have to take part in the first round of the eventing on the 27th.

Your least favourite event was dressage, you hated how meticulous it was how precise, everything had to be on point, one wrong stride and you would be falling down the table, the bid for a medal slipping further away. But dressage was like a dance, a dance where your dance partner is your horse Once fuertes, you lead and he follows in time to the music.

When it’s over and you see your name sitting in first place and you don’t seem to dislike it as much, you are happy with your dance partner, with the precision of his hooves through the sand his strides perfect, of course it is you who cause the fault only a slight one but still you have raked up 16.00 penalty points.

1.5 penalty points less than your closest opponent but it’s not enough.

“Lo siento, mamá, debería haber sido mejor” you fall into your mothers arms “Potro, it was perfect, parada being so hard on yourself, tienes razón donde necesitas ser un potro, llegarás allí, solo espera.” All you can do is let out a grunt as you push off her and turn to follow your grooming team.

You don’t get a day to relax, to process your recent accomplishments instead your sitting on Once fuertes in a forest in Versailles getting ready to take part in the cross country trail for both Spain and yourself just like yesterday.

Only today is not a dance, today is a race against a nine point two minute clock and twenty eight fences/obstacles in the way. Once fuertes is big at 17.5 hands these obstacles will be nothing for him the time trial a minuscule thought for such a long strided horse like him, but it’s up to you to get him there.

You do so perfectly, you trust in him to leap over every obstacle and land ready to race towards the next and he does it without hesitation yet you don’t stop talking to him pushing him forward edging him to go faster to jump higher and it pays off. You hold your lead. You’re still number one, still in position for gold. Your first gold.

Your happier this time around, your mother can tell just from the way your hunched over Once talking to him happily “ Oh, mi chico, eres increíble, eres perfecto, podríamos hacer esto, yo y tú, once, yo y podrías ganarlo todo, oh, ese es mi sueño para ti y para mí.” Your mother pats Once happily “Bien hecho once, gracias por cuidar de mi potro” you beam down at your mother before swinging your leg over and jumping down from the thoroughbred laughing happily as your mamí pulls you in for another bone crushing hug “Dios mío, mamá I think we might actually have a chance, we might actually place on the podium me and Spain, me and Once.” Tears spring to your mothers eyes, happy tears at your growing excitement, at your accomplishments so far “I don’t think you’ll just place Potro, you will win it all, you and España and Once, you will win the gold.” You shake your head not wanting to get your hopes up just yet “Paciencia, es todo lo que tengo en este deporte.” Your mother squeezed your arms before letting you stand back as you got ready to follow your groomers again “you sound just like your Papá.”

It’s not over, far from it, you still have the eventing show jumping tomorrow, the team final and the individual qualifiers but tonight you can relax, tonight you get to watch La Rojas face off against Nigeria, tonight you get to focus back on a different race for a podium and your happy to get to switch off even just for an hour.

You sit happily in the Olympic village with your team around a table as you watch the girls battle it out, fighting for a point that never seems to come. “Uhh, no van a anotar, quiero decir, vamos, quedan diez minutos.” Your teammate Carlos shakes his head, you simply smile and shake your head “Paciencia Carlos, they will strike when they are good and ready. She will strike when she is good and ready.” The team laugh at your faith in the Spanish girls, your faith in your favourite player La Reina herself, but it is you who is laughing five minutes later when Alexia scores the only goal of the match “Mira, te lo dije, when she is good and ready.”

You look out at the castle the next morning getting ready to walk the course with your teammates insuring you know your route, your strides, when to push Once on more with your leg and when to let off, to losen the reins, this is it, you could win your first gold medal today with Spain, your first gold medal as an individual, you just have to be patient.

You must qualify in the top twenty five to reach the individual qualifiers, you must be in the top twenty five to win, you have to jump a clear round all while staying within the eighty second time period. Once has to stay calm, so you have to stay calm, Once must keep his strides precise, he can’t over stretch, he might knock a pole if he does, he might knock more than one and the penalties you have been working so hard to keep down could wrack up suddenly, but again your against the clock a time trial, you have to do this fast, he has to do this fast, you both have to do this fast and clean together, it’s the only way you will keep your spot.

And you do. You jump last for Spain, you jump clear for Spain, for your self, to qualify for the individual medal, not a single pole rocked within the cups and you stayed five seconds under the time limit, for Spain, for you and Once, you were perfect, he was perfect, now it’s a waiting game as the last five jumpers get ready to try and knock Spain off the gold position.

None of your other teammates scores are as perfect as yours but they aren’t the worst, not even middle, they are comfortably in the top twenty and so you stand in the stands to watch the final rider with bated breath.

Great Britain sit second, France sit third and with Tom McEwans for Great Britain four faults in his round he seals the deal on all three podium spots, you have done it, you’ve won a gold medal, Spain have won a gold medal, Once has won you both a gold medal and now you have to refocus to win your individual one.

Your jumping last out of the twenty five riders, you sit in first and you can’t do anything except watch how the riders ahead of you take this new course, their turns, their leg sheathed it’s on or off, how their horses react, you watch the screen as the names move up and down below the top four, the top four, four faults sit between you all, four faults is all it will take for you to drop off the podium altogether, for this to be all for nothing and as your time comes closer it seems to be the only thing swimming around your head.

But it clears, it clears as you swing your leg over Once and as your mamí squeezes your leg before turning to the thoroughbred “Enciérdala por mí, cuida a mi pequeño potro.”

Sixty seconds till your gold medal, sixty seconds till you hold a gold medal, till you and Once become Olympic champions sixty seconds and a clear round.

You don’t remember the course, you don’t remember starting the course, but the roar as Once touches the ground on the far side of the final fence, clear, two seconds under the time giving, clear, clear, he jumped clear, you jumped clear both of you together jumped clear, your an Olympic champion, Once is an Olympic champion, Spain are Olympic champions and all you can do is look towards the sky and shout.

You arrive back to the village beaming, two gold medals around your neck, a team and an individual, you won’t have time to celebrate it, not yet, the games aren’t over but for now you beam and let out quite thanks you’d as athletes pass you in the village congratulating you as they pass.

You freeze as a certain athlete stands in front of you “Guau, hace tres días y ya tienes dos medallas de oro, debes ser bueno.” Your frozen unable speak, unable to think, unable to breath. She’s gorgeous, she’s breathtaking and she’s standing right in front of you. “No, No not really.” She smiles holding out her hand to you “I’m Alexia.” You look at her hand before taking it gently, scared your hand might pass through hers “I-I am Y/n.” Alexia beams happily holding your hand for far longer than she expected but she thinks you’re gorgeous, that you’re breathtaking and so she doesn’t mind “I was going to get a go coffee, would you like to join me.” You nod before finding your words “Sí, me encantaría.”

You let out a laugh as Alexia tells you of her younger sister Alba stating that the only role she wanted in the Olympics was that of a WAG or singing in the opening ceremony.

You sit happily listening to her talk about her family, talks about them like you have known her and them forever, you want to ask about her father but decide that if she isn’t happy mentioning him to you, a complete stranger she met mere hours ago then you weren’t going to ask.

“I am here for Fútbol.” You nodded “Sí, I-I am a fan.” Alexia doesn’t react like you thought she would, her smile seems to grow “a fan, of Spain?, of Barcelona?, of me?.” You laugh “De todos ustedes, de España, de Barcelona de ustedes, la Reina- I have been in love with fútbol my entire life, I have been a culers my entire life, and I have been a fan of you since you started playing.” Alexia lets out a sigh, a content sigh. “That is good, because I don’t think I could give my phone number to a Real Madrid supporter.” You laugh again this time sliding your phone over to the older girl.

Alexia watch’s you as she types in her number, adding emojis to her name. “So you never told me what sport you’re so great at that you won both of your medals for.” You blush as the conversation turns to you, you were quite content listening to Alexia talk and now she had switched to you. “Ecuestre, this one is from the team eventing so Yo y otros tres ciclistas ganamos este.” You hold out your team gold medal for Alexia to inspect “Y entonces this one is my individual medal, but really I couldn’t have done it without Once.” You hold out your individual medal as Alexia’s eyebrows raise “what is your horses name.” You smile “Once fuertes” Alexia nods approving “eleven is a strong number alright.” You let out a giggle taking back your medals “so what does Once get.” You go to take your phone out to show her pictures of the thoroughbred “he gets a rosette, and carrots, lots of carrots.” Alexia let’s out a small oh “well that’s not fair.” You pause as you go to hand over your phone “what do you mean.” Alexia shrugs “well your job is easy, the horse does all the work, so shouldn’t he get a better prize.” You feel your face heat up and turn bright red from embarrassment, as you smile sheepishly putting your phone back in your pocket, you push your chair to get up from the table and Alexia can tell she’s said the wrong thing “Y/n.” You ignore her as you stand “Good luck for the rest of the games.” You leave immediately as Alexia shakes her head “Joder.”

Alexia tried texting you but your not answering and so she decides to see if you have any social media, with a quick google of your name Alexia feels her guilt increase ten fold “Y/n Ferré Balagueró dedicates her Olympic wins to her father.” “MIERDA”

[idyllcy]

winter heatwave - zayne x reader

"It's so hot..." You grumble, sprawled out on Zayne's couch in his office as you grumble. "Global warming my beloathed..."

Zayne swipes his hand in the air, chilly air brushing your skin as he continues at his documents.

"That's not enough, doctor." You sigh. "Can I hug a snowman?"

"The AC is on. You can only blame your body for being naturally warm."

"Well it's usually bearable because I'm cuddled with you when it's hot." You groan. "I can't believe it's supposed to be winter and it's hotter than you outside."

"That comparison doesn't work. I'm naturally cold."

"Which is why we work together so well, duh." You sit up, yawning slightly. "Can I sit on your lap?"

"That's unprofessional."

"Didn't say no." You settle yourself in his lap, lashes fluttering shut as you snuggle into the ice of his skin. Much better.

(You miss the way Zayne's face flushes pink down his neck and to his ears as you do)

[serpentface]

A typical example of a kulimane hunting dog, a prized animal in Imperial Wardin. They represent the most positive feelings towards dogs in this cultural sphere, an animal that otherwise has an often ambiguous or even disdained status.

Kulimane are the 'hybrid' offspring of domesticated sighthound breeds and the kuliku (colloquially called 'salt wolves'). Kuliku are not actual wolves, but rather the feral descendants of VERY ancient domesticated dogs that have been living wild for millennia in grassland, savannahs, and semi-desert, and are fully functional and efficient predators. Kuliku have slender builds, huge lungs, and long legs, and use bursts of tremendous speed to chase down prey. They mostly take small game, like rabbits, hares, birds, and hippegalga, though pairs are capable of bringing down mid-sized ungulates. They do not readily mate with fully domesticated dogs, but can be encouraged to do so in captivity, thus producing the kulimane.

The production of kulimane was introduced by the third Burri empire and has been fully adopted into contemporary Imperial Wardin. Kulimane are commonly seen as the best and most ideal of hunting dogs, combining the speed, power, and heat resistance and predatory instincts of their wild parents, and the loyalty and tameness, and other bred-in qualities of their sighthound parents. In practice, most Kulimane used in hunting will have been the product of several generations of breeding to produce an ideal animal (initial 'hybrid' generations are often still too wild). Their appearance can vary wildly, but the ideal form for a kulimane is to have a domestic-type coat (fully solid colors are preferred, but rare) and to retain the pointed ears and black tail tip of their wild ancestors.

Most kulimane are independent, intelligent animals that will form close and protective bonds with their handlers, but will be shy and wary of strangers. They usually retain strong territorial instincts from their wild ancestors, and can double as excellent guard dogs. Their disposition towards other dogs can vary- a well socialized kulimane can usually be introduced to new dogs with few issues, but some have striking tendencies to aggression towards strange dogs, and are often muzzled in public. Most are kept in same-sex sibling pairs, and away from unfamiliar or unrelated dogs. They are rarely outright cuddly, often preferring to sit at a distance than to sit on one's lap, but are appreciative of praise and affection from their owners.

Well trained kulimane make for truly excellent sighthounds. They can quickly adapt to changing situations in the field with little to no input from handlers, and quickly and instinctively dispatch most small prey. Their high prey drives Can be a problem for owners. They are frequently known to kill livestock and sacrificial stock, and have a tendency towards surplus killing. You don't want a kulimane to get in with your poultry.

Good kulimane stock is very difficult to produce and takes several generations of breeding, and the animals can be very costly to maintain and keep in good hunting conditions. As such they are VERY expensive animals, and function as status symbols. Sighthounds in of themselves have associations with wealth, and kulimane are specifically associated with royalty and the social elite. They represent the most venerated and beloved end of a very, very wide spectrum of cultural opinions towards dogs in the Imperial Wardi sphere.

The status of dogs in the cultural schema mostly depends on their perceived role. Working dogs tend to have positive cultural connotations- guard dogs and especially hunting dogs are seen as noble animals and symbols of loyalty, and herding and livestock guardian dogs are of great practical value in the rural sphere. Keeping dogs for pure companionship is fairly uncommon, though there are a few established companion breeds in the region. The practice of raising livestock dog breeds has decreased or become obsolete in parts of the region, largely due to Burri influence (which regards the meat of predators and scavengers as wholly unsuitable for consumption), but meat specific breeds like the salutachin are still valued in the city-state of Wardin as providers of an excellent, delicacy meat. The commonality between all valued dogs in Imperial Wardin is their utility, well-established roles, and sharp distinction from feral dogs.

Feral dogs are a fact of life around most settlements. Imperial Wardi cultural outlooks on them tend to be highly negative, characterizing these as uniquely greedy, cowardly, lowly pest animals at best and depraved corpse eaters at worst. Exact attitudes vary throughout the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere, but one near-ubiquitous element is regarding the excrement of feral dogs (and corpses of feral dogs) as potent sources of spiritual pollution that should never be touched with bare skin, and should ideally be removed and buried in barren ground (or their polluting influence should at least be mitigated with a blessing of the tainted location). Superstition holds that stepping in the feces of feral dogs can inflict curses, and the word for 'dogshit' is one of the most insulting terms available in the language.

Hatred of feral dogs is particularly acute in the city-state of Godsmouth. The core city experienced a collective cultural trauma as a result of a siege during the formation of the Wardi empire, in which civilians starved en-masse and descriptions of bodies being eaten in the streets by feral dogs (which were, in turn, eaten by starving civilians) dominate historical records of the event. Feral dogs are by and large hated in this part of the region and seen as outright vile animals and acute sources of spiritual pollution via their very presence. They are actively culled on a routine basis. The outskirts of the city of Godsmouth and some of the city-state's towns have unique practices of allowing semi-tame hyenas free movement through settlements, where they fulfill the dogs' function as refuse cleaners and keep dog populations in check.

While the keeping of feral dogs is generally frowned upon throughout the region, individuals caring for their local feral populations or adopting feral puppies is not unknown, and the distinction between feral and kept dogs (and stigma towards the former) is MUCH less pronounced in many rural communities, where semi-feral dogs may be valued as likable or useful village animals.

No dog breeds are standardized (or even technically 'breeds' in any modern sense), but there is usually great effort to keep working, livestock, and companion dog stocks wholly separate from feral dogs. The word that roughly means ‘mutt’ in this language does not refer to mixed dog breeds as a whole (or even crosses between different types of working dog), but specifically crosses between kept breeds and feral dogs, which is generally regarded as unfavorable (though not uncommon, both due to inevitability in a world without spaying, and practicality- these crosses may produce perfectly good working or companion dogs, and introduction of feral stock reduces inbreeding).

The dog is one of the constellations in the Wardi zodiac, found at the heel of the Hunter constellation and variously interpreted as either being a noble hunting dog trailing its master, or a lowly scavenger looking for scraps. The latter characterization tends to win out in terms of the characterization of its associated birthsign. Being born under the sign of the dog is mostly regarded as inauspicious, and a potential indication of a cowardly, stupid, lustful, and greedy character (though some positive qualities are ascribed, chiefly loyalty).

‘Chinops’ (literally ‘dog-born’) refers neutrally to the dog birth sign, while ‘chinmachen’ (‘dog-faced’) is an epithet given to those considered to have the associated personality traits, which is rarely anything BUT an insult. (These also spawn the purely derogatory phrases of ‘chisnops’, ‘chismachen’, and ‘chismache’, which have functional meanings closest to ‘son of a bitch’ ‘bitch/slut’ and ‘cunt’ respectively)

[races-stupid-cigar]

Davey owns this shirt

[canisalbus]

I apologise, The impulse was too much and I need to share this horror I made.

.

[deadmothsketches]

Just talking with an old friend.

[mooblooms-and-glares]

Alright so to the best of my knowledge, this is the chain of events so far (I've only had time to watch Grian's episode so far so correct me if I'm wrong):

Scar starts up his usual salesman bit

Jimmy offers bamboo as a barter

Scar and Bdubs laugh at him

Jimmy tramples a few of their crops in retaliation of the bullying

Cleo burns down the mansion in retaliation of the trampled crops in retaliation of the bullying

Joel gets boogeyman next episode and decides he wants to kill one of the Clockers in retaliation of the arson in retaliation of the trampled crops in retaliation of the bullying

Bad Boys build a bread bridge to blow up the Clockers for the Boogeyman kill

Clockers burn down the mansion again in retaliation of the murder in retaliation of the arson in retaliation of the trampled crops in retaliation of the bullying

Nosey Neighbors help the Clockers grief the bread bridge in addition to arson 2.0 in retaliation of the murder in retaliation of the original arson in retaliation of the trampled crops in retaliation of the bullying

Bad Boys vow to take over the server with Bread Bridge in retaliation of the griefing in addition to arson 2.0 in retaliation of the murder in retaliation of the original arson in retaliation of the trampled crops in retaliation of the bullying

Or, in short:

Please tell me this feud keeps going I want this meme to be completely incomprehensible by the end of the series

[bonefall]

Imagine being the human on chapter 11.

You're a life guard. It's lunch, and no one is drowning, so you have your sandwich. Suddenly a cat leaps up and takes it, and brings you towards a tourists car.

Inside is a younger cat desperately trying to escape. You let it out. The cat who took your sandwich meows at you.

You don't get your sandwich back.

It's a lovely day in England, and Ivypool is a horrible cat.

[bey-life]

[horse-breed-a-day]

𝘏𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺: 𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘰-𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳

𝘏𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: 16-17 𝘩𝘩

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴: 𝘓𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘯𝘶𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬

𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯: 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺

[eventingonline]

EOL - The Eventing OnLine Podcast - has made a soft start and you can currently listen to our minisodes via our desginated podcast page, PodBean, Google Podcasts, and soon enough via Apple Podcasts.

[cheval-grand]

Basically how I feel about the event right now:

[sesamenom]

maglor's first time getting to go to a concert / his favorite singer attending maglor's first big concert

[rebornofstars]

hello!! just wondering whether anyone would be interested in a September-based art & writing event focussed on celebrating the female characters in the LU fandom?

i've been thinking about trying to organise something like this for a few months now, but i'm finally speaking up, because this morning i had an idea...

we could call it:

✨Sepfember✨

anyway, if you'd be interested in a september event, let me know!

[canisalbus]

Machete at the Olympics what will he do??

Well he's anything but fit and athletic, he doesn't have strength or stamina, and even as a sighthound his running speed leaves a lot to be desired. He has low cold tolerance so that rules out most winter sports, and he's not much of a team player. He is very precise and has great fine motor skills so I was thinking of shooting, but I'd imagine you need good eyesight for that, and he's nearsighted with astigmatism and lower than average depth perception. In modern au he wears contacts and they help him noticeably, but because his vision problems are caused by albinism, they can't be fully corrected with surgery or glasses. Fencing might be an option, it's mostly about concentration, strategy, speed and accuracy. It would also neatly tie in to their canon setting, since to my understanding a lot of the principles of modern fencing are based on 16th century Italian sword fighting techniques. But that's just a guess, I'm not that familiar with the sport at all, or how physically demanding it actually is.