#horseriding. good

[pepperpepperz]

if being a fool was illegal 👮🚔🚓⛓️ she would be a law abiding citizen

[ID: a digitally coloured sketch of Franziska Von karma, from ace attorney. she has a different outfit. instead of a miniskirt, her vest turns into a tailcoat at the bottom, and she wears white pants. she also wears grey and yellow riding boots. the piece has a greenish hue. Franziska puts one hand on her hip, and gestures in the air with the other. she looks annoyed. the background is green and dark green, with a red X that lines up with Franziska's left shoulder. the ground is also red./End ID.]

[writers-potion]

Writing Female Fighters

The Heroine Must. Fight.

Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.

Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.

Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.

Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty

The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.

A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.

On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.

She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.

A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.

In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.

In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.

Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.

More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness

In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.

Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.

Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.

A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"

A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."

Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.

She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.

When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.

Plausible Skills and Backstory

In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.

For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.

It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.

It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.

Inexperienced Female Fighters

A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:

Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.

Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.

Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)

Pull hair

Scratch.

In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.

Plausible Weapons and Clothing

All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).

Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.

When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.

For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.

For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.

A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.

She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.

She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.

Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.

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[quill-is-brainstorming]

As someone with almost 7 years of horse riding experience, I think you drew them pretty well!

The only criticism I could possibly muster is that usually when you're riding without a saddle your legs would have to straight hug the horse's torso to stay on...

BUT.

You've somehow managed to depict the two situations in which that doesn't apply: a fast gallop, in which the one riding will be thrown around mercilessly and in which you're mostly required to stick your legs out a bit not to fall off, and a casual walk, in which you won't be required to keep your legs still because you're going super slow and you can just ✨️chill✨️.

And also yeah, the feet stick out like that. Exactly like that.

Art request of Alcibiades riding a horse

Old town road playing in the background

how does one draw people on horseback what do i do with the feet how does this work aaa very weird

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"What's my hidden perk?"

Preview: The LADS boys and their hidden perks. (lemme know if you guys want a part 2 hehe)

SYLUS - horseriding

Quirking his silver brow, his crimson orbs tailed your gaze. A gaze that went from bottom to top, a view you could not believe witnessing in front of your eyes. The giant figure of your boyfriend on top of a Dutch Draft. "Are you planning to just stand there and watch me in awe or do you plan to ride with me?" His voice thick, specifically laced with proud mockery as he was enjoying the look of shock you had been wearing ever since he had told you that he is good at horse riding. He extended his palm to you and took your hand, providing balance to you as you walked up the steps and took a seat in front of him, on top of the horse. This is afterall, your first time riding a horse.

It all started out as a harmless joke while the both of you were watching some National Geographic show about horses. Till he nonchalantly mentioned that he has been riding horses from a very young age and hence the surprise date for today. Featuring your boyfriend, with a horse--that you had no idea where he got from. You tensed up when you felt his chest pressed against your back, his breaths fanned over the top of your head. You hate to admit it—but you still do anyways— how he always manages to get a reaction out of you, be it stemming from a simple gesture. "Now that you have found out about my secret talent, does this mean we get to ride horses more often?" He leaned down, whispering seductively against the shell of your ear. "Or perhaps you would just prefer riding me, sweetie?"

RAFAYEL - good with kids

“Careful.” Rafayel grabs ahold of your forearm, guiding you past the puddle in the vast garden. The date came about to be a surprise, with the charming boyfriend of yours appearing at your doorstep in the mid evening, seeking you out from the stuffiness of your house to embrace Mother Nature in all of its glory after a whole day of heavy rain. Blushing slightly, you continued walking with him down the cobblestoned pathways, enjoying the coolness of the rain till sounds of laughters filled the air. A couple of kids were perched over a drain cover, staring into the waters with their beady eyes.

Rafayel drops his hold from your forearm and held onto your hand, the casual yet romantic gesture still greatly affects you. “Come on, let’s see what they are looking at.” At a certain extent, when you stared at your boyfriend from a distance, interacting with the children, laughing and chuckling as he was playing catch with them made your stomach feel warm. For someone like him, who spends most of his days locked away in that mansion of his, interacting with only a fish and canvases, you had never thought of him to be good with children. However, Rafayel had yet again managed to surprise you. Seeing him waltzing over to you, with a huge grin stapled on his face, you can’t help but mimicked his expression. “You seemed bored. Do you want to join us cutie?”

XAVIER - has an annual pass to amusement parks

It took forever for the both of you to plan a date due to the recent influx of wanderers. Captain Jenna had gotten the both of you to be split up into two different shifts; with you being the leader for the day shift while your boyfriend, Xavier is incharge of the night shift. Hence, when the wanderers' amount had finally decreased, Xavier did not hesitated to ask you out on a date. "I had always wanted to bring you here. It was on my list." He spoke, hands holding tightly onto your smaller palms as he led you past the huge archways of the theme park. Colours of all spectrums welcomed you, revealing the colourful fanfare of a theme park and you could feel your inner giddiness peeking through your smile.

As the both of you stood in line for the tickets, you were surprised when Xavier muttered to you. "Since it is your first time here, I will buy the ticket for you." When it came to your turn for the ticket purchase, your boyfriend only requested for one and you tapped onto his shoulder nervously, immediately asking him if he was only going to get one and watch you from outside or perhaps he may need some aid for funds. The man however beamed shyly, ear tips turning a shade of rubicund when he tried to explain himself. "I...uhm...have an annual pass?" The hidden question mark at the end of his sentence made you chuckled in return, mind already imagining how funny it would be to see him riding the theme park rides all by himself. "But, I got you an annual pass too." He held up the golden ticket in his hand. "From now on, we can both come together as much as we want."

ZAYNE - good at snowboarding

Zayne had appeared at your doorstep a little too early than his usual timing, which is usually going by your timing as you do like taking your time to sleep in and he do not find the need to disturb your beauty sleep. But today seems to be different when he appeared in front of your door with a coat in his hand. When you asked him about the purpose of him coming so early, the man only kept it short and simple, replying accurately to what you had asked. "I had taken a few days off of work and I had booked us a spot at a ski lodge." When you had an eyebrow raised, he continued to explain himself. "You had been watching the snowboarding event for the Olympics recently. I assumed you would like to try it yourself." You weren't exactly surprised at how conscious he tends to be, but you are more concerned of yourself as you had never done any snowboarding in your life.

"You had never snowboarded before haven't you?" Zayne questioned, those forest green orbs of his meeting yours with amusement. As you nodded, you could feel your cheeks heating up, warming you from the harsh cold winds. You hesitated though, asking him in return if he were to know anything about snowboarding given that during the safety briefing he did asked a couple of questions here and there. "Me? I would not say I am good at it, but I did tried it before, ever since I was a kid." He patted your head, a small smile tugging onto the end of his lips. "Don't worry, I will hold onto you the whole time and make sure you do not hurt your knees or fall into the snow." His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close against his side and he planted a kiss onto your forehead. "But you can definitely fall into my arms if you slip."

[weirdmorefics]

Can you make a fic where the Bridgerton sister gets high or drunk, and Colin and Benedict try to get her out of trouble???

A/N- Yes I can! I love this idea especially since I am the little sister with an overprotective big sister.

Readers' Pronouns- She/her

Word Count- 1292

Summary- Reader sneaks a few too many drinks at Daphne's debut ball.

An Average Bridgerton Ball

"Can this ball get any more dreadful," Eloise groans.

Benedict points to Daphne, "That is going to be you soon so I'd say these events soon will get even more dreadful."

Mother approaches the pair and worriedly asks, "Has anyone seen Y/n? I don't want her to miss Daphne's debut! I am sure she is going to be crowned the diamond of the season the way the queen has been eyeing all night!"

"I do not know Mama, we are not her keepers," Eloise moans.

"I do not envy any man who wishes to court you," Violet's face tightens but Eloise pays no attention to the reaction and Benedict stifles a laugh. "Let me know if you see her, I'll be with Daphne and Anthony," she sighs and walks away.

Shortly after Penelope joins the pair of siblings dragging a giggling Y/n behind her.

"Y/n you must regale to us what is so humorous," Benedict looks at Y/n bemused.

"I regret to inform you but I don't think Y/n even knows why she is laughing," Penelope frowns. "You have to get her out of here before she ends up the headline of Lady Whistledowns next piece."

Colin arrives at the tail end of Penelope's sentence, "Mother wanted me to help you two look for Y/n but it seems you two beat me to the punch... oh my god. Is she sloshed?"

"It appears so," Benedict's smile grows.

"Well, this ball just got a lot more entertaining," Eloise smirks.

"Sloshed, is such a funny word," she giggles. "We should get sloshed more so we can say sloshed all the time," Y/n slurs. "Next round of drinks on me!"

"Y/n sweetie, it's an open bar," Penelope treats her like a child.

"One she clearly made good use of," Benedict raises his glass in awe. "My little sister is growing up."

"I am so grown, you are so right," she slurs. "Mother she doesn't see that, she thinks I'm so immature," she whines. "It's always be more like Daphne, men like well-spoken girls and well-rounded girls, not girls who spend all their days in the horse's stables," she mimics their mother's voice. Y/n points her hand to the sky in declaration, "I'll show her, I'll gather more suitors tonight than Daphne will the entire season."

"I do not think sober Y/n would agree with that decision," Colin rationalizes.

"Sober Y/n is no fun, she lets Mother walk all over her," Y/n frowns. "Sober Y/n needs to learn a lesson or two from Eloise and not care what Mother thinks, but she needed some liquid courage."

"Why is drunk Y/n talking in the third person," Eloise smiles.

"Dissociation my darling sister," she squishes Eloise's face as Eloise rolls her eyes. "You should try it sometime. Like right now I am going to tell Mama that I wish not to be married but horseride competitively and I am not even nervous."

Y/n turns to walk away but drunkenly stumbles nearly falling to the floor.

Benedict luckily catches her arm before she face plants onto the floor, "I have to say I am quite fond of drunk Y/n."

"Well, I am certainly not! Anthony will kill us if he sees Y/n in this state," Colin says worriedly.

"Oh, I do hope so!," Y/n smiles. "Drinks and a show would be fabulous!"

"You've had enough drinks for a lifetime," Colin groans.

"As much as I hate to admit this, Colin is right Anthony and Mother will kill us if they see Y/n in this state. Pen is also right if Lady Whistledown gets wind of this we will never hear the end of it and will be held prisoner in the house until we are to be wed," Eloise frowns.

Colin and Benedict shiver at the idea of being grounded to the house. Y/n is completely unaffected by the conversation and her eyes follow the appetizer plates the servants walk around with. She tries to walk away yet again from her siblings to indulge in the variety of savory foods but is tugged back to Benedict's side with a grunt.

Colin sighs, "There's no way we can get out of here with her without causing a scene. I mean look at her," he gestures to Y/n who is currently trying to see how loud she can belch.

Penelope smiles, "I may have an idea."

"Yes, Pen for the win! I will always be superior in smarts and friends," Eloise quips.

Colin groans, "Now is not the time Eloise. What's the plan Pen?"

"Men can never resist a damsel in distress-" she is quickly cut off by Eloise.

"No Pen where is this going?"

She sighs, "As I was saying men can't resist a damsel in distress and your sister is about to be crowned diamond which makes you a jewel yourself Eloise." Eloise groans in response but Penelope continues on in stride, " Just do some light swooning on the dance floor and the suitors will come flocking."

"Maybe being trapped in the house with Mama forever is better," she grimaces.

"No, no, no. Eloise just think of all those forced piano and etiquette lessons with Mother permanently on loop," Benedict annunciates.

Eloise takes a deep breath and looks Y/n straight in the eyes, "Sober Y/n owes me big time!"

"She makes no promises," Y/n giggles.

Eloise sighs enters the crowd of dancers and makes a big show of fanning herself and loudly announces that she feels very faint. Men of course flock to her offering her a hand or handkerchiefs to fan herself with.

"She is oddly very good at that," Benedict admires.

Colin rolls his eyes, "Come on help me get Y/n out of here she is a lot stronger than she looks."

"I want to watch the show," she whines making herself as heavy as possible as Colin tries to drag her by the arm.

Benedict laughs and throws her over his shoulders since everyone is too busy watching Eloise be uncharacteristically charming.

Y/n kicks her feet wildly, "You are no fun!"

"I pride myself on being the most fun sibling actually but it seems you are taking the crown right now I do think that hangover in the morning will make you give the crown back though," he smiles wickedly and Y/n huffs in response.

"Less bickering more escaping," Colin chastises.

"He's definitely never the fun sibling, " Y/n shakes her head.

Colin growls, "At least I got you out of the ball unnoticed."

"Hate to break it to you but that was all Penelope," Benedict smirks as he sets Y/n down.

Colin rolls his eyes for the millionth time that night but is interrupted by Y/n running off.

"Look pretty flowers," she swoons.

"Man she is fast," Benedict watches.

"Aren't you going to catch her!" Colin points.

"I carried her out here," he defends.

Colin sighs and has to chase Y/n around the garden for a good ten minutes until they successfully push her into the carriage. She passes out shortly after getting into the carriage.

"Well that was certainly one way to perk up tonight's boring ball," Benedict smiles.

Colin shakes his head still out of breath from chasing her around the garden, "You are carrying in the house."

"Am I now? Care to wager? How about an arm wrestle match?" Benedict bargains

"You're on!" Colin says determined. He of course loses the first round and declares best of three and still loses...

Safe to say, Eloise, Colin, and Benedict got their revenge on Y/n by making her torturous hangover ten times worse.

[ma1dita]

Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

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[devotion-disorder]

I feel embarrassed but fuck it.

I like horses, so what would Kuuya and Noel think of MC that rides and trains horses for living?

I could see Noel stealing MC riding crop/whip to use on them(maybe using rubber horse bit as a gag but idk)

Also, personally I would at least once try and make them ride a horse (not by themselves of course) to see their reaction.

Both of them would think its cool that MC knows how to work with horses! Noel especially, since he's a total city boy, so he doesn't have much experience with these kinds of stuff. Kuuya is just kind of jealous of the horses because they're hogging MC's attention.

You're right that Noel would probably be up to no good with the equipment, but i think he'd prefer using his fingers as a gag. He's definitely using that riding crop though.

I think Noel might be a surprisingly quick learner with horseriding, since he's got a good sense of balance and decent core strength. If you do manage to convince Kuuya to ride a horse, he's 100% going to fall down, faceplant, and get almost trampled by the horse.

[strangelittlestories]

When one of the last fairy godparents died on my doorstep and passed on their domain to me, they made one crucial miscalculation: I was terminally un-magical.

Now, you might think I mean ‘terminally’ figuratively here. But you would be astonished how quickly foisting a fairy legacy onto fully mundane folks can produce lethal consequences.

In this case, the issue was the wishes. That’s a fairy godparent’s job, right? You’ve got a number of godchildren, selected because they are in some way magically deserving, of interesting destiny, or unfortunately cursed. These kids will usually have some problem that can be solved by tactical wish application.

But if you’re a normal mortal, you will likely spend your first week on the job in active denial about the wishes that start turning up. It’ll just be one or two at first, faintly glowing like stars beneath your skin, carrying with them the gentle suggestion that now might be a great time to start transmogrifying root vegetables into modes of transport.

Then more of them turn up. And they get brighter, bigger, more insistent. Suddenly, your skin is filled with a galaxy and there is no quantity of cleverly applied scarves and no amount of expensive concealer that will hide it. It’s as if your insides have become student accommodation and the residents have decorated with an improbable number of fairy lights because it will look good on the ‘gram.

You start getting sensory migraines that paint flows of impossible colours across the world. Your teeth feel like they are constantly vibrating and you can always taste cinnamon. You can feel your liver and your liver feels wrong. You look in the mirror and you seem to be moving in stop motion, winking in and out of reality.

And a dozen little tinny voices are hovering the back of your mind insistent that *only you* can solve their problems. These problems may seem inconsequential - a boy who really needs to go to the ball, a girl who needs horseriding lessons, a teen who for some reason needs to avoid arts and crafts - but the longer you ignore them, the more you *know* in your bones that they are vital.

Speaking of vital: this is roughly when the banshee showed up to let me know that the sheer quantity of magical potential in my body was now approaching ‘fae nuke’ levels. Apparently, if I did not start bleeding off some of the excess, this would get *very bad* for me and everyone around me.

In short: the critical mass of wishes contained within my pitiful mortal flesh was acting like a magical black hole. It was sufficiently aetherically dense that my body was becoming more a part of the Faerie realm than the mortal plane. If it reached the tipping point, it would effectively become a portal between worlds.

This wouldn’t be too bad for an actual fae. As the banshee explained, this was one of the ways fairy godparents got around. They call it ‘wishful blinking’

But I was not built for containing a magical wormhole, so yeah … fae nuke.

So … I started granting wishes.

Making dreams come true without magic, by the way, is a *whole production*. I called in every favour. I utilised every skill. I pulled elaborate cons. I tricked parents into hiring me as a party planner/tutor/life coach/etc. Then I used the income to hire help. The banshee even pitched in (we ended up getting drinks a few times).

Eventually, there were enough of us that we needed a home base. So I bought a warehouse/office space.

And that’s how I started the first ever Wish Fulfilment Centre.

---

Thanks to a Word of the Month Club member for the prompt of "Wishful".

Want to submit your own words to be used as puns in my stories? Consider supporting me on Ko-Fi with a recurring donation https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories

[vigilskeep]

I’m obsessed with bea!! so how did get badasss rogue skills as a little chantry mouse?

her aunt!!

some extra bea lore, to explain the situation: her father was guilty and distant, never wanting to actually pack her off to the chantry or a marriage like he was supposed to, because he regretted what happened to her mother when forced into the wrong life too young. this made bea’s elder half-siblings anxious; he’d married her mother because it was politically advantageous, because she came from a much more powerful family than their mother. as long as bea wasn’t vanished off like a proper youngest sibling, she felt like a threat to their inheritance

as you can imagine, that was a pretty isolating big house to grow up in. she was a little bullied by her siblings when they were younger; she downplays this as kids being kids but she did learn to pick locks because she occasionally got locked in places. when they grew out of that she stopped getting any attention at all, and that was sometimes almost worse. she wasn’t really bold enough or socially gifted enough to seek company outside of the family. she was a lonely kid and she spent a lot of time with books, in the chapel, or with the trevelyan family’s beloved horses. (all trevelyans are horse girls whether you like it or not)

so what bea looked forward to more than anything were breaks from that loneliness: the occasional visits of her aunt.

her aunt was the previous generation’s youngest trevelyan sibling handed off to the chantry, and a templar. butch lesbian, very close-cropped hair, lot of muscle, heavier frown lines than she really should have had at her age. sad-eyed and serious whenever she didn’t realise bea was looking at her. but she was always very affectionate to bea, having been in that position of the youngest just waiting to be sent away. she’s the one who used to call her bea! and a variety of increasingly nonsensical nicknames. “lady bea, lady bug,” she used to say. “my little bumble bea. what have you been up to while i was gone?”

and bea would say, “ummm. reading?”

and her aunt would shake her head. “that’s no good,” she’d say. “that’s no good at all. it’s a dangerous world out there for a little bea, and books won’t protect you. you’d better learn how to sting.”

and bea would say, “but auntie, bumblebees die when they sting, i read about it!” and her aunt would laugh and ruffle her hair and say she was too smart for her own good.

but bea did want to impress her aunt and make her smile when she came, more than anything, so she went very bravely to... someone, maybe a fencing master kept on for her elder siblings, maybe her father or a roguish friend of her father’s, maybe even to one of her elder siblings, and she insisted on being trained. (it would be interesting if it was someone older, who’d also trained her mother, who was of course good enough to be noticed by the wardens.) whoever trained her, they were very grim-faced about it, never letting slip how good she was and insisting it was only the basics of self-defence that she was struggling to reach. not a particularly kind approach, but definitely one that made her work as hard as she did, for better or worse. and she loved the work. it turned out fighting was even better than horseriding for letting her quiet her busy thoughts and just move

i did not expect this response to get as long as it did so to round off this information... it was her aunt, tired of seeing bea pushed aside and kept at home, who insisted on taking her to the conclave to finally go out into the world and see something important happen. naturally, only one of them came back

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O is a horserider and they want Skeleton to try riding a horse. How does it go?

Undertale Sans - At first you put him on a horse, but, uh... His legs can't reach the stirrups lol. You decide to switch for a pony. Sans accepts to go on a ride, but you can see he's struggling to keep his balance, holding for dear life to the saddle. He has enough after 10 minutes. He's glad he tried, but that's not for him.

Undertale Papyrus - He's actually excited! But he's so light he's literally flying on the saddle, struggling to not fall. But it's really fun! After tying some weight to his waist, it's actually much better and he's having fun. He might have a new favorite hobby and will talk about nothing but riding horses for three months.

Underswap Sans - Finally something's back he can ride on! Blue is overexcited. He needs guidance for about five minutes and after that he is gone with the horse at full speed, screaming with excitement. That's the best day of his life, he's never getting down!

Underswap Papyrus - Uh, are you sure it's safe? It's at least the twentieth time he asked you this. When you said you wanted to go see the horses, he thought you meant you two were going to pet and cuddle them, not climb on their back! Honey's bones are all rattling as he holds for dear life to the horsehair, clearly struggling against the urge to pass out and not have to be here anymore. You take slow steps and he actually relaxes a little as time goes by. He has enough with one time though. Once he's back on the ground, he promises himself he's never doing that again.

Underfell Sans - He thought you were just joking when you said you bet he could never ride a horse. So yeah, he said he could and to stop calling him a loser, hoping his bluff was enough for you to not call him a loser anymore. But then you dragged him to see that huge scary random beast that screamed at him and then you threw him on its back and now it's a whole other story. Red is paralyzed with fear, looking at you with wide terrified eyes. Please save him. He's a loser or whatever, you're right. Just let him down, he's begging you. He was only on that beast's back for three minutes but that was the most intense three minutes of his life. He's never doing that again.

Underfell Papyrus - Ah yes! He saw videos of these things! He wants to try it! What he didn't tell you is that he watched rodeo videos so when he climbed the horse and it did nothing, he's just so disappointed and frustrated. Where's the fun in that? The thing is just eating grass and it's not even listening to him. Edge is bored after ten minutes and doesn't see the point. He expected more.

Horrortale Sans - He's so uncomfortable. The problem with Oak is that he's too small for a horse but he's too big for a pony. He's standing awkwardly on his pony, ridiculously tall, and completely confused. What did he say yes again? Ah yes, you said you would bake a pie once you get back home. He's not moving from his place. When the horse starts to move, Oak looks at you with wide scared eyes. He doesn't know what to do! He relaxes slightly seeing you so calm, but he's still tense the whole time. It was not so bad in the end, but he's fine with this being a one-time experience.

Horrortale Papyrus - Sadly, he can't because of his back. He just came to pet the horses. He loves horses!

Swapfell Sans - Toriel actually taught him to ride horses. Ok, it was fake horses because the real ones died long ago Underground, but Toriel insisted a gentleman has to know how to ride. He's a bit nervous on a real horse but he quickly remembers how to do it. You're actually quite impressed, he's really good at it!

Swapfell Papyrus - Somehow, no horse wants him on their back. You tried fifteen horses, and they are all hating him. He doesn't understand why, he did nothing to them! He even got kicked in the stomach by one of them :( You tell him it's karma coming to bite his face for all the pranks he did.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He tries really hard to look like he is in control of the situation but he is really not. First, he's not facing the right way on the saddle. Second, the horse kinda left the way it wanted. Wine keeps a serious face as you're losing it. He's not amused. He can perfectly control his beast by himself, stop mocking him already!

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He wanted to see what would happen if he gave a little hit with his foot on the horse like you did. Now the horse is running at full speed, Coffee screaming at the top of his lungs, trying not to fall. You're not sure how to help him but don't say it out loud or he swears he's going to pass out.

[havenlyd]

The seer

"I see things that nobody else sees."

Named after her uncle Viserys, Princess Viserra Targaryen is the daughter of the King Aegon III Targaryen and his consort, Queen Barba Bolton. The Princess Viserra was born in the last day of autumn in 138 AC.

The Princess is known to attend all the Faith of the Seven's sermons in public, though she prays to the Old Gods.

Viserra loves good wine and good conversation. She enjoys banquets, balls, and parties. She is not particularly fond of horseriding, preferring to use the carriage to travel.

She is often described as "happy" and "gentle", and would often be seen in the company of the Queen or her ladies-in-waiting. She loves cats and enjoys spending time with Lady Larra Rogare and her cats.

Though unsuspecting, Viserra plays a pivotal role in returning the glory of house Targaryen.

[jaylienpotter]

15 questions, 15 people

Thx for the tag @marauders-everything2

Starting a new post, it was too long. Slightly modified some questions.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Don't remember, probably yesterday.

3. Do you want to have kids?

No thanks :)

4. What sports do/have you played?

My parents tried putting me in a bunch of shit when I was younger so I've done: swimming (for some years, still not great at it lol), surfing (quit after like 2 months), kizomba dance (hated it), another type of dance, contemporary dance (I liked it but the place closed), and we went skiing several times (which I love). If horseriding counts, I did that for a year. Currently not doing any.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Yeah, sometimes. But I'm also quite direct and straightforward. Only "straight" I am.

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

Their fashion style. I love going up to strangers to compliment their outfits!

7. What's your eye colour?

Dark brown.

8. Movies with sad or happy endings?

I love movies with uncertain, ambiguous endings, in which the meaning is up for debate (like Inception).

9. What talents do you have?

Fast at absorbing information (sometimes), hypercreativity, great at bullshitting in academic tests/essays, good at making accents and voices, ummm... Can't remember more.

10. Where would you like to live?

New Zealand. It's pretty and one of the least problematic English-speaking countries (wanna live somewhere where English is the official language).

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing fanfiction and original stories (more like my passion), playing The Sims 4, drawing digitally (haven't in a while though), singing?

12. Do you have any pets?

My parents have 3 dogs (no breed) and koi fish. I want a cat :')

13. How tall are you?

165 cm or 5'5" for the Americans.

14. Favourite subject in school?

At college. Don't really like any of my current classes. Ig English C1.2 because we studied the Broadway play Hamilton. Although I haven't learned anything new.

15. What is your dream job?

Writer/author, would also like to do voice acting. Maybe a psychologist too, haven't decided if I'll take a second college degree.

No pressure tags: @siriuslystarbucks @starsandmoonys @whoopsiesnodaisies @star4daisy @starchaser-lily @half-cold-coffee @cazzythefrogking @starsarestories @my-beloved-fandoms @my-castles-crumbling @reggiecantswimm @artbyace @literallytoogaytofunction @rosemelodyshah @theres-an-endless-starry-sky

[wilbursprincess]

Princebur headcanons with modern!reader (idk what terminology you use; you can make it nsfw if you want to)

where Princebur somehow time travelled to the modern times, now lives with them for some reason & gets confused by the contemporary society (bonus if reader's internet famous (to add confusion) but lacks in essential in Princebur's timeline skills)

[I imagine Princebur to be bewildered at the lack of horseriding skills but be terrified by how fast they drive a car. Or be like: "What do you mean I'd be arrested for carrying a sword?! I'm the prince of this nation!" "What are hot single mom's & why are they in your area?"]

Princebur Time Travelling

Princebur x Modern Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Hi anon! This request is amazing, and you know how much I love Princebur!

Headcannons below cut!

~This man would be so confused. Like what you think would happen if you gave a Victorian child a McDonald’s burger.

~You were so glamorous to him!

~He was so used to seeing the women around the castle in rough, beige dresses and minimal bathing.

~But you were an enigma.

~Wilbur would be in awe of your extensive wardrobe, bright colors, and how good you smelled.

~Even royals wouldn’t bathe much in his time period, and he was all over the fact you had a shower.

~Not to mention running hot water and so many kinds of soap!

~You’d show him your phone and try and explain what it did.

~”So it’s like… writing letters? And they arrive, like, immediately? On the other… thing?”

~Once he understands photos (somewhat), you try and show him social media.

~”You really care so much about what other people eat and somehow want to remember it with a photo?”

~Online dating is what shocks him the most.

~”So your parents don’t decide your husband? And you can find them… on the interface?”

~Cars scare the life out of him, not to mention the lack of horses.

~”I’d go to jail if I carried my sword? But I’m a prince!”

~Sex was one of the best discoveries he made.

~”You can prevent pregnancy and actually do this for fun?”

~You had plenty of experience, and he had none. Even just a blowjob had him unable to stand afterwards!

~Wilbur was so cute, being in awe of every single thing you thought was mundane.

~You’d happily spend the rest of your life showing him the modern world.

[makapatag]

tabletop role-playing games, as a medium i think, are predisposed to crafting reals, on top of it being largely an exercise of language.

i'm using "real" right now as a basic "something that is completely true thing." in a sense, role playing game design is reality-crafting.

this means that every mechanic and every word used in the game, down to the language, is a way of crafting a real wherein the players must accept that is real (within that space). the reality is the bounds of the fiction and also the major expressive influence into the player's minds. however in a very weird positivist way, what mechanics exist in a game reify what the game says is real, and what doesn't exist doesn't exactly mean something isn't real. so instead of a real/unreal dichotomy we have a real/real (in fiction)/implication(pseudo real)/unreal

so for example: a game might have Stats, Classes, and mechanics for making attack rolls. all of these are Real, and they inform the fiction (a high STR might mean your character is strong, being of a FIGHTER means you're good at fighting and you can pull off maneuvers, making attack rolls is you committing physical violence on another). So they're both real and real in fiction. the localized reality around player characters now exist and they interact with the game through these reals.

now these things might be non-diegetic (frex, a FIGHTER (CLASS) might not actually exist within the game setting, they're archetypical representations, which is something D&D 4e and D&D 5e do), but that doesn't matter: those things are now real due to game design. this means there ARE fighters in your game, even if there is only one kind of fighter that the PC is, there are still fighters.

going further, these Reals also imply something about the established game world. these are not yet the pseudo-reals: so for example, a game that has CAP Skills (skills that cap any other skills you might use while doing something within their field, such as Horseback Riding [a Riding Skill 3 might mean you can only add +3 to when you're doing Melee Combat despite your Melee Combat being at +7, etc.]) this presupposes then that someone who isn't good at Riding cannot be as effective with their martial skill despite having been skilled at martial skill for years.

is this realistic to real life? it doesn't matter: with that established within the game mechanics, that is now what's Real there. and in role-playing you must follow along the Reality crafted there. this has a number of pseudo-reals (implications) such as (cavalry are all good at horseriding, etc.) but the importance of pseudo-reals is that these are things the table (the player aspect) can interface with as they wish. those things which the player has no choice but to interface with are the highest of reals in a roleplaying game

your choice of language informs this even further. not just the fact that you choose to write it in english (tagalog, spanish, etc. expresses things and imposes different priorities when it comes to real) but the wording choice you choose. frex: having INTELLIGENCE as a Stat can be somewhat ableist. what does high INTELLIGENCE mean? aren't there different kinds of smarts, is knowledge the same? or is this an abstraction? but is it a meaningful abstraction or an abstraction brought about by historical momentum (it's what D&D used). why is INTELLIGENCE a meaningful abstraction but STRENGTH and CONSTITUTION are split? these are all arbitrary until it isn't, and you must establish a real to live in the imagined space (that is, the fiction). i'm not saying the 6 stat array is a bad thing mind you but i think it's useful to understand why you have it in there in the game. if it's just because it's the most well known stat array then that's fine i guess

finally, what reals you put into the game is inherently informed by your own worldview. it actually doesn't have to be (that's the point of creation) but commonly game designers simply inject their worldview into the games as real and recreate that real into their tabletop rpg (frex, misogynists who think its realistic for men to be stronger than women, capping women's STR stats etc.) so choosing what is real and what isn't is a matter of paradigm shifting and realizing that not all realities irl are the same (not to go into metaphysics and sociopolitical philosophy)

[j4rhead]

can i request rubbing kaeyas cock thru his underwear and not directly tocuhing him? making him cum in his boxers with only small touches and make out🤭

the following work contains: nsfw, gn reader, dom reader, very small bit about alcohol and drinking (in true kaeya fashion)

i got sorta carried away and wrote a lot cause i love kaeya, i hope to have characterized him correctly. please don't mind typos, I've proofread this but there might be some i didn't catch.

the cavalry captain is surely... something. he's polite, pleasant to have a conversation with, playful and teasing with an occasional flirt here and there—nothing that makes you uncomfortable, of course.

it's easy to see that it's nothing but a very carefully crafted mask. the man reveals almost nothing about himself save for the fact that he occasionally enjoyes a drink in the angel's share, and some weird story about his grandfather being a hardcore pirate (you don't believe a word of it).

you're burning with curiosity to know more, maybe catch him off guard, see how his mask breaks into pieces and what he's like without it, so that's how you find yourself heading for the angel's share that evening to have another chat with kaeya.

you end up having a few drinks with him, a few bits of conversation and the usual flirt. you can tell he's careful about how much he drinks in front of another person. he's not drunk yet and neither are you, but you feel the urge to do something bold like sliding your hand on top of his, so you do exactly that.

you catch the way his eyes widen slightly before he corrects his expression to a smirk and a playful quip that you don't catch because you're too busy staring intensely at his face, and you suddenly realize that he would look good wearing a broken, flushed expression, maybe even squirming underneath you.

you can't tell if that's the alcohol catching up to you or not and you frankly do not care.

never been one to beat around the bush, you inch your face closer to his and look into his eyes—you want to see if he would still have the mind to put on a facade when you start with him. he looks at you like he's analyzing your intentions, looks away for a brief second, then leans in with a teasing smile.

you two make out for what must've been minutes before you part, both flushed and panting slightly and you can see that he's somewhat aroused if his tight horseriding pants are showing you correctly, so you wordlessly signal with your head and smirk, and he replies with his signature wink (which isn't really a wink... because of the eyepatch).

rest of the motions go in a blur. next thing you know, you're pressing him against a door to some mondstadt hotel's room—of course he would be too cautious to bring me home, you think to yourself— and you're kissing him senseless.

you can tell he wants to take control of the kiss, but you bite his bottom lip and you force him back into your rhythm. your hand finds its way inside the chest window of his annoyingly complicated attire and with the briefest touch of your fingers against his skin, he gasps into your mouth.

touch starved and sensitive all over, it seems. your other hand drops to his waist and ghosts along his hips, noting how he shivers slightly at the touch as you push a knee between his legs and lick at his lips. he lets out a noise at the touches, his mouth forms a half-smirk before he opens it for you to deepen the kiss, which only makes you want to break him even more.

he hasn't exactly given in to you, rather it seems like he's enjoying this way too much to try and reverse the positions, so you take advantage of that and push your knee a bit higher against his clothed arousal. he tries to muffle his moan into your kiss so you pull back, looking at his flushed expression and feeling the way he practically heats up under your touch. he looks back at you in a daring way as if he's trying to challenge you, try and see what you can do, that's the wordless message written on his expression.

you smirk at him with confidence, dragging your hand from his hip to the very obvious tent in his pants and when you grab him through the fabric he jerks a bit from the grip before arching his back a bit into your touch and letting out a breathy moan, hands coming up to your neck and pulling you back inside for another deep kiss. this time he manages to take control of the kiss before taking revenge for your previous bite with one of his own and you think to yourself, challenge accepted.

if he wants to tease, then you'll do it to him tenfold. you tease him with feather touches on his dick then switching to rougher pulls, and you can tell he's getting more riled up and desperate by the second with the way he shuts his visible eye tightly and his breathing becomes more rapid and irregular, moans increasing in volume no matter how hard he tries to muffle them, and when you kiss the sharp edge of his jawline he squirms under your touch with a shaky gasp.

his hands slide down to grip the back of your clothes tightly while he tries to push you closer to him if that's even possible, flushed all over and cursing and a mantra of "more, fuck, pleasepleaseplease-" falling from his lips as his voice breaks slightly, somewhat deepened with pleasure and arousal, and you kiss his lips rougher than any kiss you two shared the whole night.

in a matter of seconds he arches his back and lets out a loud pretty sound against your lips and his whole body tenses like a spring, his hands gripping the back of your clothes so tightly that you fear they would rip, and his knees threaten to give out with the force of his orgasm. his expression is everything you could have asked for—flushed and lost in utter bliss as his eye looks at you in a glassy daze.

you can't help but smirk at the wet patch forming in front of his pants. who knew the famous captain kaeya, ever the mystery, would break so easily under a few touches? you have half a mind to tease him about it or maybe even shame him, see what clever witty thing he'll come up to reply with, and then finally getting rid of his very annoyingly complicated attire. after all, you've got him to yourself for a whole night, haven't you?

[habibialkaysani]

HUNGER by lauryssamilkshakes

Summary:

“It is like a hunger in me, Anthony. A never ending appetite of mine that cannot be satiated, not truly, not without you.” “But you are not without me,” he reasoned. “So why –” “Because that feeling will not go away!” she burst out. The day before they set sail for their honeymoon trip to India, Kate and Anthony go horseriding. But Kate is grappling with the realities of married life - namely, her hunger for her husband, and how embarrassingly often she feels it. Oh, and Kate's peach garden is blooming.

Kate woke to Anthony kissing her forehead. 

This in itself was nothing novel; she had become accustomed in the past few days, since they wed, to her husband waking her with kisses, on her temple, on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. She would awaken, words slurred with sleep, moaning softly at Anthony's nose nuzzled right into the crook of her neck, his tongue licking at the hollow of her throat, the lazy tap-tap of his fingers as he traced a slow path down her back. It was comforting, to be sure, but it also meant that as Kate woke fully, it would be to the swirl of heat somewhere low in her belly.

Today was no exception. The ache for him settled there firmly, even as Kate stirred, reaching out across the bed and realising the pillow beside her was empty. She realised, too, that his kiss was fleeting, his lips not lingering on her skin as they normally did.

Then she opened her eyes, and Anthony came into view. He was leaning over her, smelling so damn warm and clean and so very Anthony that it made Kate groan aloud.

“Good morning, Kate,” he murmured. 

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