#stock horse racing

[roananddappleranch]

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Stock Horse Racing Association Fall Classic feat. Ryleigh & R&DR Rebel Heart Ferrari

Roan & Dapple Ranch was excited to be a part of the very first Stock Horse Racing Association's Fall Classic! Up until the recent creation of the club, we were simply using our stock horses for ranch work and other various western competitions. We knew we wanted to include one of our stallions who loves to run his little heart out, and that would be our incredibly loved and fast R&DR Rebel Heart Ferrari - but around her, we call him Warwick. And who better to ride him around the track than our owner and speed enthusiast, Ryleigh! The two had so much fun tearing up the dirt at the racetrack on event day, it was great to see the both of them letting loose. By the time the race was over, Ryleigh and Warwick were dead tired and were quiet the whole ride back to the barn.

[shadowprincevalerian]

Morde//Twi is problematic but nobody ever bitches about those Airplanes memes.

[elodieunderglass]

Why are jockeys not supposed to look at smartphones?? will it make them heavier

No, of course not!

It’ll make them criminals

This is in reference to something I mentioned about a prominent female jockey leaving the sport over breaking smartphone usage rules. Nanako Fujita, who raced for Japan, was an excellent jockey with a promising career and international prospects. She was lucky, talented, and in a sport that’s starving for public interest, popular. But she used her smartphone on a weekend, so on October 2024 she tearfully penned her resignation letter and left the sport.

Now, this is slightly more about Japanese sporting authorities than general horse racing practice, but it’s embedded in the idea that jockeys are inherently just such unscrupulous little bastards that they can only be prevented from cheating by locking them in hamster cages.

Going back to how horse racing is historically the province of organised crime, disorganised crime, chaotic crime, things that aren’t crimes but should be, crimes that haven’t been invented yet, and felonies; and given that it all happens for the amusement of billionaires and royalty, not noted for being generous and scrupulous; and given that - much like how claiming a hobby of “knitting” is really a cover story for collecting yarn - horse racing is really an excuse to gamble;

Given all that background - there’s always been a lot of anxiety about jockeys “fixing” races. After all, they’re historically treated as disposable and make inconsistent and indifferent money while entire fortunes are wagered on their backs they’re in an obvious position to influence race outcomes, and there are unbelievable amounts of money at stake.

Thus, the sport feels that we have to assume that jockeys are simply inherently susceptible to bribery. In the UK, jockeys can’t bet on any races and have to declare their mobile phone numbers to the horse racing authority, and have restrictions placed on where/how/what they can use smartphones for around the tracks. They can’t bring a phone to work, basically. Which isn’t too unusual in some professions. The idea is that jockeys with phones could communicate with each other or outsiders to change racing outcomes, or share information in advance before it can impact on the betting odds (like insider trading on the stock market.) this is not commonly practiced in other UK sports. It’s a working condition imposed by anxiety about preserving the integrity of the gambling.

The Japanese licensing authority is more strict. The night before a race meeting, Japanese jockeys surrender their phones and go into separate quarters without lines of communication. So you might give up your phone at 9pm Friday night, enter a sort of corporate youth hostel, work for 2 days, and recover your phone on Monday. Nanako was caught using her phone during this period of sequestration, even though there’s no evidence that she was using it for race fixing (another jockey caught for the same thing in the crackdown was making a restaurant reservation.) again, this level of control over personal communications isn’t practiced in other Japanese sports! Even Japanese pop idols, famed for having restricted personal lives, don’t risk getting pushed out of their job entirely for touching a phone.

It’s about a lot of things, but the level of control exerted over jockeys is interesting to me! and speaks to their position as athletes who aren’t the focus of the sport they do; of jockeys as the disposable pilots of things that are far more valuable than they are; of workers whose working conditions are unique; of sportspeople whose sport is defined by the anxieties of the rich about gambling; of people whose bodies are ferociously honed for a specific set of rules that don’t even necessarily make sense; of a sport thousands of years old, one of the oldest continuous sports of human history, in which the humans who play it are invisible; of ancient once-immovable traditions colliding, in the 2020s, with renewed interest in animal and human welfare and renewed pressures to Perform for social media and everything changing in ways we can’t see because we’re in the middle of them. Like when I say “one of the oldest continuous sports in human history”, as old as the domestication of horses, think about it for a minute and think how strange it is that the human athletes are this invisible, this disposable, this secondary to considerations. Why is it that you’ve been forced to learn about football against your will all your life, and you never thought for a second about this. Isn’t that wild? I think it’s wild.

(Disclaimer: I’m really not an expert, just a mild fan, which is a bit unusual for my demographic; despite the sport being ancient and internationally known, it isn’t very relatable to “people like us,” so this is kind of the first time anyone on tumblr’s really posted about having an interest in horse racing/jockeys. I’m really not an expert and I barely follow the news and do NOT attend races or understand the stats/gambling. It’s just that it was my first career ambition when I was 6, and it’s one of those things where literally no one else cares, so you get to feel like you have Secrets and a Unique OC.)

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run Part 1

The Barn

mdni

cw: violent behavior, suggestive themes, i will get better at this i swear

It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal, massive Tibetan Mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how terrible it’s coming down you would have felt terrible.

But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.

You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.

But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and you're flying out of your bed.

Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.

You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.

The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your herd. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank open the double doors

Locked.

Your barn is never locked.

From the inside.

“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.

“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they hold strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.

You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.

“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.

You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.

The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.

Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.

You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.

“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.

He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.

Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.

Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth. Your gasp is muffled at the pressure of cold steel at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.

“Not. A. Sound.” A gruff voice barks in your ear, and your blood runs cold.

“Lock the doors back.” The man orders, and a sinking feeling overcomes you when you hear a new set of footsteps. You stumble as you’re jerked back, Dixon barking as you start to thrash, kicking your feet, but the grip around you tightens.

“Fuckin- Knock it off!” He growls, pressing what you can only guess is your carving knife painfully against your throat and Grimes lets out a guttural sounding bark before lunging, only to yelp when a foot shoves him back, and you thrash harder, attempting to nip at this man’s hand.

“Stop you little fuckin-SHIT!” He bellows as your teeth sink into his palm, not releasing until you taste his blood splash over your teeth, and then you’re on the ground.

“Little bitch!”

“Don’t touch my fucking animals.” You spit, turning to stare up at the intruder, just to be met with a ski mask and cold eyes. You can’t help but freeze, the carving knife glinting in the low light of the barn.

He’s quick, and you try to stumble to your feet, but you're once more in his grasp. You go for a punch, but he catches your wrist easily, pinning your arm behind your back with one hand and yanking your forward with the other, pinning you against him, and the knife is at your throat again.

“Let’s try this again.” He says between clenched teeth, tightening his grip till you whimper.

“Ghost. Lighten up.” A voice pipes up, raspy and stern with a commanding tone. The masked man, Ghost, rolls his eyes, but loosens the hold he has on your wrist.

“Who else lives here?” He questions, and it feels as though a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you.

“No one…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut when his grip tightens once more. “Don’t bullshit us. Who else lives on this land with you?!” He’s in your face, making you open your eyes, tears blurring your vision.

“It’s just me I swear!” You sob, feeling the tip of the knife digging into your skin. “I swear to god it’s just me, you can go check the house-“

The pressure of the knife is gone, and the shock of your bare knees hitting the barn floors barely phases you as Dixon and Grimes dart to your side, whining softly as they nudge your hands with their heads.

“Think she’s telling the truth?” A new voice speaks up, a thick Scottish accent ringing in your ears as you try to put distance between you and the four, you are finally able to count, men standing in the middle of your barn.

“Explains the massive mutts.” Ghost grunts, glancing at the four mastiffs, who you push behind you, shielding them, trying not to let your fear show more than it already has.

“They aren’t mutts.” You hiss, Judy nuzzling her giant head into your back as you shuffle them back, away from these men.

You hold your head high, but your lip can’t help but tremble when all their eyes turn to you.

“You sure there’s no one else in that great big house?” The older man with scruffy facial hair asks with a tilt of his head, and a spark of agitation flares in your chest. Why did they want to know so badly? if they were going to…

If they were going to kill you, surely they would have done it by now, right?

“I swear on my life.” You plead, voice cracking. You’re horrified when you realize your nightgown has been soaked through this whole time, noticing the way the one with the mohawk, the Scot, keeps eyeing your bosom. You look away, cheeks burning as fresh tears prick your eyes.

“Soap, Gaz. You two go check the house. Report back to me, I want a moment with her.” The unnamed man ordered.

Mohawk and a dark skinned man nodded, heading out of the barn. Ghost passes one of them the carving knife, and your fist curl in your lap.

“What do I do Price?” Ghost asks, and the man, Price, waves a hand, eyes trained on you. “Search the surrounding area, look for anyone hiding on the property.”

“Understood.”

And then you were alone. The barn has settled, most of your animals having made their way to the farthest wall behind you. He approaches you slowly, cautiously eyeing Dixon who raises up, baring his teeth, but you click your tongue, and he steps back immediately, sitting at your side like a statue as the others guard the flock.

You feel a puff of air breath against your head, and you can’t help the wet laugh that bubbles out when you realize Sebastian is standing guard over you.

“Seems you’ve got yourself quite the protection.”

He muses, eyes bouncing between the animals.

“They were abandoned when I found this place.” You confess, a slight tremble to your voice as you watch Price crouch in front of you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over your form and you wrap your arms around your middle.

“If my men are walking into a trap, whoever is there will be killed.” He says simply, tone almost bored and you feel your face pale.

“They’re not! This is my land! Mine!” You insist, frustrated tears falling freely as you flex your fingers, muscles tense.

“Tiny little bird like you, all by herself?” Ghost scoffs as he returns, and you feel your ears burn.

“What did you find?” Price asks him over his shoulders.

“Can hardly see shit in this rain but I found no one. There’s a truck around back but the engine seems shot.” He shrugs, eyes peering at you through that ski mask and you avert your gaze.

The doors open against, the other two rushing in, soaked to the bone.

“The house is clear sir. Only one room looks lived in, two guest rooms down the hall on the upper level and a small library on the ground level. Gaz found a shotgun by the front door.” The Scot, Soap, you gather, reports back to Price.

“I told you. It’s just me out here.” You mutter, and this time Ghost is crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“You hiding from something little bird?” He asks, cocking his head to the side

“You’re the ones breaking into my barn and scaring my animals!” You snap, trying to get out of his grip, but he only holds tighter.

“You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” You see his eyes crinkle, and you're shocked this man even knows how to smile under that mask.

He releases you, standing up and stepping back to stand with the other three men, who still loom over you. You feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter house, and you bury one of your hands in Dixon’s thick fur to ground yourself.

“Please-“ You start, voice shaking, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.

“I don’t have much, there’s maybe three thousand dollars in the safe in my closet. I’ll give you the code just…” Your voice trails off, a sob slipping past your lips and Dixon whines, low and sad as he places his giant head in your lap.

“Please don’t hurt us. D-don’t hurt my animals- I won’t even call the cops, it would take the nearest deputy three hours to even reach my house.” You beg, exhaustion and nerves taking over as your shoulders slump, trembling with your quiet sobs.

You see Price’s boots approach you, and he tilts your chin up, and you flinch when he brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Stop all these tears pretty. We don’t want to hurt you or your little farm.” He coos down at you. Confusion swirls in your head, making you dizzy as another sob can’t help but slip out, Price cupping your cheeks, shushing you softly as he wipes your cheeks.

“I don’t understand…” You whisper, searching this strange, terrifying man’s face for any sign of deceit, but he just grins at you.

“You told us the truth. Very good.” It sounds almost like praise the way he whispers it to you, and you whimper, shame filling your stomach. You look away from him, taking a shuddering breath as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Let’s get you back inside hm? Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tsks, and before you can argue, you’re being lifted into his arms, tucked against his chest. You try to struggle, but the adrenaline has worn off, confusion left in its wake as these strange men usher the herd into their correct pens, Soap barley escaping one of the Roosters pecking at him in defiance, before pausing.

“I don’t think I want to mess with this guy.” Gaz mutters, the three of them staring at Sebastian, who stares back, as though daring them to try and corral him.

“He.. He’ll go back in his stall once it’s quiet… You scared them…” You mutter, tired as you give in, resting your head against the strong chest you’re pressed against, and you feel Price’s grip tighten.

“You’re freezing sweetheart, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” He murmers, and your heart skips.

“I can do that myself.” You hiss, staring up at him with narrowed eyes, despite the fact you can feel your cheeks burning.

He just laughs.

[fordhampr]

EXCITING NEW READ FOR FANS OF HORSE-RACING!

Growing up in Australia, I was aware from an early age how important horse-racing is to the country, along with cricket and footy. Every year on the first Tuesday of November, the entire nation shuts down and listens to or watches the run of the Melbourne Cup, one of the World’s richest turf races. The legendary Phar Lap mesmerized the country back in the late 20s and early 30’s before dying…

[writing-fanics]

strawberry lemonade

Sanji x LuffyOlderSister!Reader

the waiter walked over the table holding the plate of bread, "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food." He said annoyed, his hand stuffed into his pockets as he placed the plate of bread onto the table

“My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?” Sanji said, looking at the table his hand in his pockets.

Luffy grabbed the bread plate. "One of everything, please," he said. [Y/n] shook her head, smiling at her always-hungry little brother who could eat a whole buffet and still ask for seconds.

The waiter approached the table with a friendly smile and a suggestion: "May I interest you in one of our signature cocktails to elevate your dining experience?" As he spoke, [Y/n] swiftly and deftly took one of the warm rolls from the basket in the center of the table. Luffy was taken aback and protested with a playful "Hey!" [Y/n] responded by sticking out her tongue, teasingly. She then tore off a piece of the warm, crusty bread and popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor.

As she looked up, her gaze met the waiter's. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed his flirtatious smile. "My apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you like to start with an apéritif?" he asked, still smiling at her.

Her face turned bright red. "We have some rare Micqueot vintages in stock," he said, trying to impress her. "Or maybe you'd prefer a glass of Umeshu?" He continued to stare at her, captivated by her beauty.

The moment he flashed a flirtatious smile, her heart raced like a horse galloping on a race track. He leaned towards her and whispered, "You know, something sweet for someone sweet," causing her cheeks to flush with a bright red hue, reminiscent of a freshly picked ripe strawberry. She couldn't explain why she felt so nervous around him all of a sudden, her heart pounding relentlessly against her chest as if it wanted to break free.

He watched her intently, his gaze unwavering as she averted her eyes and looked down. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she fiddled with the gold Roger coin around her neck, a precious keepsake that Shanks had given her and Luffy when they were children.

He smiled at her and she looked up for a moment, smiling sheepishly as they locked eyes. Usopp clears his throat and says, "Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" He tells the waiter ordering the drinks, "Two beers. I usually have three, but…" He said,

"Water." Nami said looking at him.

„And a milk." Luffy interrupted, "Three beers and a milk. a water. And, uh, for madam?" Sanji asked, his gaze once again falling on [Y/n] looked up at him and blushed, "U-Um, I would strawberry lemonade and a cup of strawberries," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness. He smiled at her and said, "Right away." just as he left to walk towards the kitchen.

[Y/n] hid her face in her shirt while the other crew members chuckled, Luffy looked towards his older sister playfully. "Y/n's gotta boyfriend," He teasingly said to her. "S-Shut up!" She whispered shouted, elbowing him in the arm before, as the Sanji brought out her drinks. He smiled, at her as he placed the strawberry lemonade in front of her, along with the side of strawberries. Sending her a wink as he did so, her heart almost seemed to stop and her soul could've left her body.

"Y/n's gotta boy-" [Y/n] grabbed some meat on a stick, and shoved it into her brother's mouth silencing him.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Blurbs

— Mr. Bear & Bearman

Saudi Arabian gp 2024, Bella meets Ollie.

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.8k

Based on these requests though I kinda changed parts of the plot, aka I forgot about the sky sports broadcast part until after I finished writing 🫣

It was the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix which was one of the hottest races on the calendar.

Since you had never gone to the country before, Max had warned you about the heat that this time of year would bring. For your daughter in particular, iced cold water in reusable bottles was one of the primary items you had stocked up on in preparation.

Although Isabella enjoyed summer, the humidity in Jeddah caused her hair to stick to her forehead, a sensation she rapidly grew aware of and disliked.

She was not a big fan of the sun blazing down on her, but still wanted to support Max. Even after he had suggested that both of you could join him for the next race in Australia, she didn't budge on her decision to watch the race in Jeddah. Isabella had made it clear that would choose to go to every race that she was able to, especially since it would give her an excuse to skip a few days of school before and after the weekend as well due to travelling.

Isabella was wearing an airy navy blue dress to show her support for her favourite team. She wore a cap with Max's driver number printed on it, as well as sunglasses to keep the sun from stinging her eyes. In addition, a small battery-powered fan rested on her shoulders to keep her cool all throughout the day.

Since Max was required to be in the garage hours before you and Isabella planned to arrive, you entered the paddock on race day with only your daughter.

You held her free hand while you walked further in the paddock, glancing at her a few times and chuckling at her choice of attire which was adorably cute for her age.

With her hand that wasn't held onto yours, she held her favourite teddy, Mr. Bear. Ever since she had retrieved it—or rather rescued it—from her father's house, she hasn't gone anywhere without it in fear of losing or forgetting it again.

Although you hadn't spotted Max, Isabella quickly waved at another driver decked out in a red Ferrari polo and blue baggy jeans—her second favourite driver.

Charles bursted into laughter when he first saw her, immediately commenting on the fan, "I want one."

Isabella tilted one of the two mini fans' direction towards him and he exaggerated a sigh of relief, finding her instant response to his words cute and told her that he appreciated her action. He turned it back towards her after a few moments, knowing that it was to prevent her from excessively sweating or even getting a possible heat stroke.

Then, he looked at you, "hey, why don't I show you around the Ferrari garage?"

You thought about it for a moment, never having been in any other garages except RedBull and RB. "I'm not too sure about that, you know, considering I'm with Max," you shrugged.

He chuckled, "you have no idea how many times he's come by, c'mon it won't take long." He extended his hand towards you but didn't grasp onto your hand, letting you know that you still had a say in the matter and that he would promptly end the conversation and accept your decision if you declined once more.

"Then, I will walk you to your lovesick boyfriend," he muttered quietly enough that Isabella didn't hear.

Dropping your mouth in faux offense, you lightly smacked his shoulder with your hand. "Lovesick? I saw him a few hours ago."

He shrugged, "few hours too long."

You briefly looked down at your daughter who was silently beaming and you knew that she would love a little tour of the Ferrari garage.

You playfully clasped your palm in his for a moment, making him chuckle, "okay then, show us around."

"Great, I can also introduce you to Ollie," Charles commented as he lead you towards the garage that showcased an enlarged version of the iconic prancing horse on the building.

Furrowing your brows, you asked, "who's Ollie?"

"He's a F2 driver, filling in for Carlos because of his illness," Charles briefly explained, pointing at another person who was wearing the same team gear as him.

"Right there." Charles called him over, and you noticed that the driver looked visibly younger than any other Formula 1 driver currently on the grid.

Unfortunately, right as Ollie was introduced to you and Isabella by Charles, the older Ferrari driver was pulled away by other team members that required his presence. "It's alright, he can show you around," Charles suggested.

With a sheepish smile on Ollie's face, he nodded, "I'll show you around, but I will say, I'm still learning everything myself,"

Exploring the garage, you noticed that one of the biggest differences was the colour of the items, other than that most of the things were similar in each garage. Where the Redbull garage was filled with navy blue, Ferrari was an infamous red. Despite being close to the Ferrari drivers, it had felt like you entered a different world since you were used to staying in the Redbull garage.

Your daughter quickly befriended Ollie, mainly since he wasn't immune to her antics and cute little pout. One question led to another and he was happily answering them all to the best of his ability. While most of their conversation was filled with laughter, you could also hear some bickering between them.

In the sea of red, you spotted a man wearing the rival team colours, and even though his back was turned to you, it was easy to tell that it was Max. While Charles had said that the other team drivers can come by the garage, he failed to mention that they would get stared at oddly because of the contrasting colours that made him stand out.

Once he turns around and spots you, he quickly makes his way towards you with the corner of his lips turning downwards. "Why are you here?" He asks, panting.

"Charles suggested a tour. Why are you out of breath?" You retorted. He bends over and rests his palms on his knees. "I looked for you everywhere, I thought you were coming straight to my garage."

He had initially checked his phone for a call or message from you since you weren't in his side of the garage, but the battery died. Max underestimated the amount of walking it would take to check the entire paddock to find you because he couldn't wait after putting his phone on charge.

You placed your palm over your mouth to hide your smile. "I was, but look there," you pointed at your daughter. She was currently carried by Ollie on his back while he showed her all the little details that would be too high up for her to see otherwise.

Max walked over to Ollie, slowly getting to know him better throughout the weekend. Max liked him a lot as the younger driver reminded him of himself when he was younger, albeit a little different but the passion to race was similar.

Although, Ollie didn't need to know that since the words leaving Max’s mouth contrasted his thoughts. "Show her all the red you want, but the only red she'll like is Redbull," Max tells Ollie, catching Isabella’s attention too.

“Maxy look, Ollie got me a bear!” She exclaimed, sliding off the younger driver’s back and holding up the teddy bear. There was a small version of the Ferrari cap stitched on to its head along with a Ferrari polo as well.

“Very nice, princess, did you say thank you?” He asked and earned a nod from the little girl. While she walked closer towards you, Ollie responded to the statement Max said.

"I don't know, maybe you'll have to ask her which red she prefers."

"Are you challenging me?" Max quips, raising his brows. Ollie shrugged nonchalantly, "maybe I am."

"I’ll have you know that I am very competitive," Max added, earning a sigh from you. "Max, are you seriously arguing with a kid, that too over Bella?"

He looked at you in disbelief, "he's trying to convince our Bella to like Ferrari over RedBull, he's brainwashing her."

"I don't know about which one I like better, but I will say that I’m also going to be supporting Ollie this race, since it's his first in F1.”

Max frowned at you, then looked at Ollie, "seriously? First my Bella and now my girlfriend too? Count your days."

The younger driver looked at you with concern visible in his eyes, “he’s not serious is he?”

You shook your head, “not at all,” but at the same time Max replied, “of course I am.”

You ignored your boyfriend’s words for a moment, placing a hand on Ollie’s shoulder. "Raising Isabella has just made him a bit more protective," you explained.

"You both have a beautiful daughter, but you don't have to worry about her here," he looked at Isabella who had interrupted Charles’ conversation with his engineer but neither men minded the intrusion.

You called your daughter over, not wanting her to be a disturbance in the garage especially on a busy day like today. Before you could respond to Ollie’s comment, Max beat you to it. "You’re driving for Ferrari, that is enough of a reason not to trust you.

“He’s joking,” you added to lighten the mood, especially since Max’s humour was not obvious to many people. Ollie on the other hand, added his own cheeky retort, "you trust Charles."

Isabella returned to your side and it was time to leave the garage since Max was probably needed at his garage too. Your daughter’s hands were occupied by two teddy bears, and you couldn’t help but ask, “what are you going to name it?”

“Bearman, after Ollie.” Her response caused a sigh to leave Max’s mouth but you chuckled looking at him. “Mr. Bear and Bearman, that’s nice.”

Isabella stopped in her tracks, “mama, can I watch the race from that garage?” She asked pointing to the Ferrari garage that you just began walking away from.

You looked at Max, expecting to see another frown on his face but seeing a smile instead. He shrugged, “if she wants.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, finding the difference in his mood concerning. “Yeah, Ollie’s a good kid.” His smiled revealed that he had no ill intent regarding Ollie, he was just a little overprotective over Isabella.

Isabella spent that qualifying day cheering on Ollie while sitting along with you and his family, who were already enamoured by the little girl as well. When he returned with a good starting position, especially considering it was his first ever race in Formula 1, he hugged Isabella just as tight as he hugged his father, already considering her like a little sister.

Little Big Blurb taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

Whats the lore behind Cabbagepatch?

I should really have a page dedicated to this 🤣 Okay, strap in! This is going to be a long post!

Empress of Evil, Cabbagepatch Prudence Le-Croissant Pantoufle  Baba-Yaga Mothballs-Smyth and her siblings belong to a race of ancient, immortal shapeshifters with a default dog-like appearance.

The Mothballs Siblings minus Robespierrepatch

Several hundred years ago, Cabbagepatch and her siblings were looking for new planets to conquer when her brother Cookiebatch, overcome with psychic energy, tried to eat the spaceship's controls, causing them to crash land in Strangetown.

Cabbagepatch as a puppy and an adult on her home planet, Cardboard Batuu. The crash in Strangetown. Cabbagepatch in disguise as a French dog. Cabbagepatch as an elder

The crash caused a massive disagreement between the Mothballs siblings, and they split up and fled to various corners of Sim Earth.

Tigerpatch's fifteen minutes of fame

Cabbagepatch went to Champ Les Sims, disguising herself as a French dog, Figgyduff moved to Chestnut Ridge and started an illegal horse dealership, Kapusta hijacked a cruise ship, before eventually settling in Ravenwood, Tigerpatch moved deep into the Selvadoradian jungle, but rose to prominence as the face of a Simflix documentary, Rottenbonnet set up home on an offshore garbage island, Mitzipuff and Cookiebatch were discovered by scientists, who later tricked a rather stupid man into taking them after they all but destroyed the lab, while Foxipuff and Blobbypatch are unaccounted for, but do attend family gatherings when called.

Cabbagepatch performing a blood sacrifice with her siblings, while wearing Sentate couture

Cabbagepatch was kidnapped by scientists in Champ Les Sims. She was bored and wanted something to do, so she let it happen, and then promptly blew up their lab.

She then reconnected with her brother, Robespierrepatch, who had left during an earlier migration and was communicating from Sim Earth. They had a falling out over sausages, so like her siblings often did, Cabbagepatch found a nice family and stayed with them until they annoyed her and she had to kill them. Rinse and repeat several times over.

Cabbagepatch found a family she could tolerate, but Figgyduff, after learning of her sister's location, broke into their home and destroyed their kitchen in search of sausages. Cabbagepatch got the blame and had to kill the family. Her bloodfeud with Figgyduff never ended.

Cabbagepatch ended up being taken in by a nice old lady who fed her the most magnificent sausages. Cabbagepatch grew to like her, and together they guarded their home from unwanted visitors with much aggression. Sadly that wouldn't last, and she ended up being 'inherited' by her grandson (the gall!) Milo.

Cabbagepatch waiting for Milo's wife Hana to die

She remained with Milo and his family and lived a comfortable life, occasionally begrudgingly sharing her time with their other pets (thankfully mortal). Occasionally she would run into old enemies, but overall, her life was peaceful and allowed her great freedom to build a large stock portfolio and start various underground businesses.

Cabbagepatch when she went off sausages for a few months

When Milo and Hana passed away, Cabbagepatch found herself living with Milo's sister, Heather; her favourite of the Smyth family. Heather remained ageless on a strict regime of Botox, Ozempic, and cosmetic surgery, and became the one human Cabbagepatch actually liked.

Heather in her late eighties to early nineties with Cabbagepatch

During her time with Heather. Cabbagepatch was free to go about her business, given Heather was busy with her own portfolios and businesses. She accepted an invitation to join the League of Evil.

Cabbagepatch and her associates during some downtime (credit: @theplottdump)

Cabbagepatch has learned from her long life that it's okay to wind down a little, and having had an eventful time on Sim Earth, she makes sure to involve herself in smaller pet projects, as well as large-scale business ventures.

Cabbagepatch, along with Vampire Cher and Vampire Enya, taking down evil children's author KJ Rowley in the Banned Forest

Cabbagepatch's greatest enemies

Being a business woman and dangerous individual of such calibre isn't without enemies. Cabbagepatch has made a variety of enemies in her time. For the most part, she lets them live, as without enemies, where would the fun be?

This brings us to the present moment, when Cabbagepatch appears to have buried the hatchet with Figgyduff (and not in her head either), in their war against the Clucking Cosa Nostra. No one knows what the future will bring for Cabbagepatch, except perhaps Cookiebatch, who does have psychic powers, but either can't, or chooses not to verbalise them.

[forsinnersandsaintsalike]

Telling task force 141 you’re pregnant + Graves

Captain John Price

Price is initially quiet as he processes the news, his face softening into a proud smile.

Deep down, he's thrilled. He's always wanted to be a father, and the idea of starting a family fills him with pride.

He immediately starts preparing— researching baby-proofing, scheduling appointments, and ensuring you have everything you need.

Becomes even more of a shield for you. He's hyper-aware of your needs and refuses to let you stress over anything.

Price buys cigars (classic tradition) to hand out when the baby is born and jokes about teaching them to fish one day.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon doesn't say much at first, his mind racing with both excitement and worry.

Beneath his stoic exterior, he's elated but also terrified.
His past makes him nervous about being a father, but he's determined to break the cycle.

Simon's protective instincts go into overdrive. He'll quietly do things like stock the house with everything you might need or place his hand on your belly when no one's watching.

He spends a lot of time thinking about what kind of father he'll be and promises himself he'll do better than his own.

He might whisper things like, "I'll keep both of you safe, no matter what," during vulnerable moments.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is immediately ecstatic, grinning from ear to ear and hugging you like there's no tomorrow.

He's practically shouting, "I'm gonna be a dad!" to anyone who will listen.

Johnny dives headfirst into baby shopping, picking out the cutest and most unnecessary items, like matching outfits.

He's your ultimate cheerleader, always reminding you how amazing you are for carrying their child.

Whenever you're stressed, he's cracking dad jokes already, trying to keep the atmosphere light and happy.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz is overwhelmed but hides it well. His eyes glisten when you tell him, but he plays it cool.

He starts planning for the future, ensuring you'll have everything you need. He even starts saving for the baby's education.

Kyle is thrilled but also a little scared. He wants to be the best dad possible and worries about doing it right.

He insists on accompanying you to every appointment and caters to your every whim-cravings, comfort, you name it.

Gaz often catches himself daydreaming about holding the baby or teaching them things like football or music.

Phillip Graves

Graves pauses for a moment when you tell him, his usual cocky demeanor slipping as he processes the news. His first response is an incredulous "Wait, seriously?" followed by a big grin.

Graves is genuinely thrilled, but his military mindset kicks in quickly. He starts planning for your future together, ensuring both emotional and financial stability.

Proud as Hell, He takes immense pride in the idea of being a father and loves the thought of creating a legacy. He's already imagining himself teaching the kid to ride a horse, play ball, or learn about engines.

His protective instincts skyrocket. Graves keeps an eye on everyone around you, ensuring your safety at all times.

His protective instincts skyrocket. Graves keeps an eye on everyone around you, ensuring your safety at all times.

He’s a show off, He can't help but talk about the baby to anyone who will listen, showing off ultrasound pictures like trophies.

He turns on the Southern charm to make you smile during the rough patches. "Darlin', you're gonna be the best mama this world's ever seen."

Graves notices every little thing you need, from your cravings to ensuring you're comfortable. He'll rearrange his entire schedule to be there for you.

[nauticaltrain]

I am brave enough to ask about the symbolism for the Greaseball art piece called "Iron Pony" cause I took, also adore symbolism

heehee okay here goes

There are three main themes in the piece: power, servitude, and artificiality.

All rolling stock are many times stronger and faster than humans, but where cars' strength is proportional to their size and shape, engines are deceptively strong. They're built to push and pull, all day every day, 24/7, 365 days a year. There's nothing they can't do. But immense ability has its downsides. Engines are always champing at the bit, always raring to go. They hate sitting still. If they could run back and forth from coast to coast forever, they would. There's this exhilarating power inside of them and both the engines and the railroads know that there is nothing an engine couldn't do if they set their mind to it. They have a lot responsibilities, and a lot of restrictions hanging over their heads. They're all on short reins. Real horses get bridles, iron horses get racing helmets.

Greaseball in particular is a fun character to explore these ideas with. A strong, fast, engine who was charismatic and handsome enough to get the company's attention. He raced, he made them richer, he gets to pull the Pacific Daylight. Sure, he is one of the only E units left on the rails and doesn't get to do anything but race and power his special, but, who cares! He's the champion! Union Pacific's Golden Boy! Their extra-special racehorse who they'll never let go of!

And on top of all of this, he's not even a real person! He's just the simulacrum of a human. A plastic horse figurine trooping along with the herd. A model train running on a loop. He can win races and pull his special all he wants but that doesn't change the fact that in the eyes of many, including himself, he's just an imitation, of both man and engine. Not an iron horse anymore, you're an iron show pony.

Also, the stars are there because they looked nice.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Their Career Change After the Military

————

COD Men Headcanons

————

König

Househusband

He was tired all the time after coming back from the Military so he picked up on being a househusband and doing all the chores around the house while his s/o goes to work

It started out as making lunches for you

Then hand delivering them to you before lunch

He also started to fix things around the house he told you not to call someone for because he could look it up and do it himself free of charge

Hates messes now. He started to develop this thing where he hates messes no matter what it was. It wasn’t OCD, but he hates when he cleans something and thing a few seconds later gets dirty again

Cleans…that’s all he does when he’s bored

Hardly sits, he only sits if he needs a break from whatever he’s doing

————

Ghost

Police officer

He misses how he use to help in the military so picked up an application and filled it out to be an officer

He guards around the royal palace to keep those stupid and annoying tourists in line when touching the royal palaces horses at the gates

His voice starts to slowly become more deeper over the years from telling pedestrians to leave the horses alone

Of course they listened to man holding a gun, not like he was ever going to use it, it was just to make myself look scary

Honestly hates working in the cold or rain but does it for his job

Gets shy when his s/o comes around to have lunch with him. He waits till he is relieved from duty to go eat with his partner

He loves seeing his s/o come around in cute outfits he knows that he will fold to

————

Price

Office manager

Loves wearing the suits to get a rouse from his s/o

Loves it when his s/o visits him in the office just to drop something off he forgot at home or just to have lunch together

Got the job because he knew some people that could help get this job after he retired from the military

His desk at his work his boring with a small framed picture of his s/o sitting next to his pc

He doesn’t go to the office parties, he’d rather stay home with his s/o and not have to worry about them, he deals with them long enough at work he doesn’t need to be there for after hours

Doesn’t have a “work wife/husband” because he’s married

————

Soap

Mechanic

Took the job because he liked fixing cars

He was a personal mechanic to a race car driver for some time but quit to open his own shop

Makes a lot

He fixes his s/o car for free

Has his personal project with a Porsche 911 GT3 that he does drag races in

His personal car has nothing special but maybe a loud exhaust pipe

Takes time in his work, if it’s something bad like a busted engine he’s going to take his time not rush the process just to get the car out of his shop. If it takes a month it’s going to take a month

————

Alejandro

Stock Broker

He didn’t want the job at first knowing it’s probably boring but when his friend bragged about the almost 3 million dollars sitting in his pocket

Took the job and makes close to 5 million

It’s a love hate relationship type of job. Hates it because of the people he works with, loves it because he gets to spend his money on his s/o

His s/o meets him for lunch dates

Doesn’t go to work parties

He does pull the late night hours coming close to 3 in the morning but doesn’t have to go to work till 11

He likes trying on new suits he bought to show them off to his s/o to see their opinion on his suits

Alejandro’s desk is full of random papers from other co-workers and from customers

————

Gaz

Works from home

He starts working from home. He was able to find a job he could work from home from and can go in once a month

Gaz was able to find a job as a I.T. Guy, when Gaz was younger he messed around with coding and helping people with new technology, so he figured this would be good for him

He’s stuck in front of a computer 6 hours a day, but then the rest of his time is with his partner

He loves the view he has from his home office being able to overlook the city as he worked from home and his s/o bring him lunch and snacks every so often

Gaz loves the idea that he can wear whatever he wants to his job and no one will know

Gaz sometimes loses his mind when he has to deal with an elderly who could barely remember their password, there has been many times Gaz would have to remind them that he doesn’t know their passwords

————

Alex

Picks up the hobby of gardening

He lowkey didn’t think he’d enjoy gardening

He thought it was boring till he grew his first strawberry bush with success and no rotten fruit

He started to make the garden bigger and then made a greenhouse for flowers and succulents

Started to sell fruit and vegetables at the local farmers market

Doesn’t make a whole lot and that’s fine with him. What he does make he spends on his garden or his s/o

His s/o also jumps in to help him with the garden

Starts asking his ol’ buddies if they were interested in some of the stuff he grew

The next thing now is he wants chickens to sell their eggs

[craigslisthorses]

Hi I just found this blog and it’s awesome :) just curious, when is it important to geld a horse and when should you let a horse be a stallion? :0

Thanks! In my opinion most stallions should be gelded! Even high dollar race horses that made a lot of money often aren't breeding stock worthy due to their horrific conformation. ie, Into Mischief has horrendous leg conformation that he does pass to his foals. A breeding stock worthy horse must have good disposition, no genetic diseases (like HYPP, ect) do well in the show circuit, and have good conformation. AND 2 BALLS! People don't realize cryptorchidism (where only one testicle drops) is hereditary. You also don't want to geld a horse too young however, because it can stunt the growth of their penis and lead to issues like kidney stones. Gelding a horse too old has a higher risk of it being fatal. Perfect age to geld one is about 1 year old, the longer you wait the more likely you'll have a horse with longer term stallion like behavior, and issues from castration.

We personally refer all gelds over the age of 5 to referral clinics, in the Tennessee Walking Horse breed we tend to have larger "rings" where gut can drop through the castration site. They surgically sew the rings to prevent that, so it's a bit more detailed than a standard castration.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Fic Request: Luz and Camila take kid Philip to the mall to see Santa Claus.

Seeing Santa

Summary: Kid Philip meets the "real" Santa Claus at the mall.

Ao3 version

Thank you for the motivation + help, @pokeycub!

Enjoy!

"So, are you excited to see Santa, Philip?" Luz asked, her voice as bright and cheerful as Christmas morning.

She and her mother stood shoulder to shoulder with Philip, both holding his hand as they waited in line to see Santa at the mall.

Philip smiled at Luz and nodded.

"Mm-hm!" he happily hummed, knowing that he has been a very good boy all year round... for the most part.

He, of course, made minor slip-ups from time to time, but not enough to receive a hefty lump of coal in his stocking.

Luz and Camila shared an abundance of knowledge about Old Saint Nick and Christmas in general with Philip, including bedtime stories, cooking, baking, caroling, wrapping presents, decorating the tree, and watching popular holiday specials on TV.

They even took him to a parade once where the Santa Claus there performed an adrenaline-fueled motorcycle stunt off of a fire truck.

"Philip," Camila began. "If you're really well-behaved on Santa's lap, I'll take you to go get hot chocolate," she promised, smiling warmly at the brunette.

Philip released a tiny gasp, his blue eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Really?!" he beamed.

Camila, letting out a light giggle at his enthusiasm, nodded.

"Really," she assured him, pulling out her phone to take pictures.

When it was Philip's turn to meet Santa, both Luz and Camila laughed quietly as he rushed up to the male actor dressed in the classic red suit, promptly hopping onto his lap.

"Remember to be nice and smile!" Camila gaily told him, holding up her phone.

"And no biting!" Luz playfully added, pulling out a purple digital camera.

The Santa actor smiled at Philip as he adjusted himself in his red and gold trim chair.

"Ho-ho-ho!" he emitted from his belly, lowering a white gloved hand on Philip's head.

"Looks like someone's excited to see me," he said, gently ruffling Philip's hair, which earned laughter from Luz and Camila.

"What's your name, little boy?" Santa asked.

"Philip!" Philip excitedly told him. "Philip Wittebane! I'm ten years old! How old are you, Santa?"

"Much older than that," he replied with a jolly chuckle, Luz and Camila laughing as well.

"Was there something special that you wanted for Christmas, Philip?" Santa questioned with a smile.

"There is!" Philip chirped, filled with Christmas spirit.

"My very own race horse! I want a brown one with a black mane and tail! I wish to ride him every day! Are you able to fit him down our chimney?"

"A horse? Well, I can try," Santa chuckled again.

Philip slowly shifted his attention to Saint Nick's beard, distracted by its fluffy appearance.

The brunette swiftly began tugging on it without much thought.

"Wow, Santa! Your beard is so soft!" he complimented.

"Why, thank you. I--"

After the fifth tug, Philip accidentally tugs off "Santa's" beard, revealing a man with a stubbly face.

This causes Philip, along with the children in line, to gasp in shock.

Luz and Camila's eyes widened as they silently turned to each other.

Still holding the not real white beard in his hand, Philip turns on a frown as he hops down from the actor's lap.

After the beard is dropped on the ground, he points an accusatory finger at the fake Santa.

"You're not the real Santa! What did you do to him!?" he demanded with a stomp of his foot.

Luz quickly steps in to intervene.

"Alright, little buddy," she said with a sheepish smile, taking Philip's hand as she took him away from the scene.

"Let's just... walk this way."

She returned to her mother.

"But, Luz, the mall lied to us!" Philip protested.

As Luz and Camila began to walk away with Philip, they turned to smile apologetically at the mall Santa, who smiled an embarrassed but understanding smile as he waved goodbye, reaching down for his beard.

[devil-in-hiding]

It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how hard it’s coming down you would have felt terrible leaving them out in the rain.

But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.

You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.

But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and your flying out of your bed.

Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.

You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.

The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your stock. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank the double doors open.

Locked.

Your barn is never locked.

From the inside.

“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.

“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they held strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.

You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.

“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared from the storm! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.

You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.

The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.

Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.

You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.

“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.

He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.

Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.

Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth, and the pressure of something cold at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.

“Not. A. Sound.”

[pipsipey17]

across my memory.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

main masterlist

summary: an arranged marriage led you to leaving the woman you love. who knew that you would meet again merely a decade later only under different circumstances once upon a december.

contains: angst and some fluff (if you squint hard enough)

a/n: i recommend listening to once upon a december while reading this cause i sorta based this story on that song :>

You have received an invitation by the neighboring kingdom of Volkov, they were inviting you and your husband to their grand ball in celebration of the king’s birthday. 

As you were checking yourself in the mirror you suddenly heard a knock on the door, “Are you all prepared my dear?” your husband asked. 

“I- um… yes, I’m all ready now.” You replied and stood up swiftly from your seat then grabbed all your belongings before leaving the room. 

Once you opened the door, your husband greeted you with awe and admiration in his eyes. You were wearing a deep red ball gown with beads and pearls surrounding it, there was nothing really special about your ball gown, in fact, you found it stocked away in your closet. “You always look so mesmerizing, my love.” He said and kissed you on the cheek and offered his arm for you to hold. 

Attending grand balls wasn't something you really liked, in fact, you always found them socially tiring but your husband thinks otherwise. He would always be happy to attend these gatherings, because of the chance to socialize with other people which he oh so love whereas you were acting like an obedient wife following him everywhere he goes.   

~~~

You finally arrived at the ball and as usual, you walked beside your husband as he chatted with some of your friends and acquaintances. 

“Artur, it has been a while old friend.” A man suddenly said as he shook your husband’s hand and kissed your gloved hand as a greeting. You realized that it was the king himself, Roman Volkov. 

“It has been indeed, I see you’ve finally married.” Artur gesturing to the woman who is assumingly his wife who has a fan covered across her face, only her eyes seemingly visible to you. 

Emerald eyes. Eyes that you remember all too well. 

It’s her. 

“I’m Natasha, it's a pleasure to meet you Artur.” Natasha spoke and bowed slightly to him.  

“The pleasure is all mine,” your husband said as he kissed Natasha’s gloved hand, “This is my wife, Y/N.” Artur introduced and you bowed to her slightly in greeting. 

“Why don’t you both ladies chat whilst Artur and I chat to catch up on things while having drinks?” Roman said as he planted his arm onto your husband’s shoulder.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Artur suddenly chimed.

A total bad idea.  

“Alright, but don’t drink too much.” You said to him.

“I’ll see you later, love.” Artur said, then kissed you on the cheek before he left with Roman. You could feel Natasha’s eyes on the both of you. 

Natasha removed the fan from her face revealing her full facial features, it’s like she hasn’t even aged. She still looks beautiful as you remembered. “Follow me.” she said before you both walked in silence.

Someone holds me safe and warm

Your mind was racing with questions, it has been merely 12 years since you saw each other and the night you promised her a life with you for eternity. 

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully

“Some wine?” Natasha offered as the two of you entered what assumably is their entertainment hall because of the piano on the side of the room and with the bookshelves around.

“No, thank you.” You replied, making Natasha shrug and poured herself some wine.

“I can’t believe you’re married, for how long?” you asked.

Natasha swallowed her wine and replied, “For almost five years now.”

Your heart sank upon hearing those words, but you knew it was bound to happen after what you said to her all those years ago.

“I'll end our marriage in five years time, and I promise that I'll be with you until my last breath.”

Across my memory

“Do you actually love him? Is that why you didn't leave him like you said you would years ago?” Natasha suddenly blurted out.

You were taken aback by her question, “Natasha, I-”

“It’s only a simple yes or no question Y/N.”  

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down before saying, “Yes, I love him.” 

That wasn't enough to convince her. She started to move closer and you kept backing away but eventually your back hit the wall, “Look me in the eyes and say that one more time.”

Far away long ago

You looked into her emerald green eyes, oh how you missed those eyes of hers, eyes that would look at you with much love and admiration, but now, her eyes were filled with something different, rage, anger, and sadness.

Glowing dim as an ember

Your mouth opened but nothing came out making Natasha smirk and say, “I know you’re lying but if you insist.”

You wanted to speak but you knew she wasn't done, “You said to wait for you for five years but I waited for six long painful years before I fully convinced myself that you weren’t coming back. I eventually decided to marry Roman. I told myself that I’ll learn to love him and hopefully forget about you throughout our marriage.

But I couldn’t, I acted like a faithful wife around him but I acted like I was in a brothel when he wasn’t around. I slept with multiple women trying to banish you from my mind but I just couldn’t.”

You were stunned and shocked with what she said but she continued, “You probably have forgotten about me after all these years, seeing that you didn’t come back for me five years after you got married.”

Things my heart used to know

You couldn't stay quiet any longer,  “How could I forget the woman who loved me for who I am, the woman who made me feel like I was safe with her. The woman who made me feel like I was… home.” You replied and you suddenly felt your eyes sting, tears wanting to fall but you stopped yourself from being too vulnerable in front of her. 

“If you truly loved me, you could’ve done what you promised all those years ago!” Natasha said in an almost yelling tone. She saw you flinch at her words and immediately regretted raising her voice at you, “I-I'm sorry.” she said and approached you once again.

Things it yearns to remember

She cupped your cheek and her eyes flickered onto your lips silently asking for consent. You nodded slightly and closed your eyes until finally feeling her lips on yours. It was filled with passion and longing, almost like it was a perfect puzzle.

You missed this, you missed the feeling of kissing her, touching her, you missed everything about her.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I last saw you.” you said which made Natasha smile sadly. 

Your tears started to stream down your cheeks and she was there to wipe them, just like how she would before. 

“Would you still run away with me if I asked you to?” Natasha asked with a slight smirk on her face.

You shook your head slightly, “I can’t.” you whispered.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Natasha retorted.

You held her hand and placed it onto your stomach, “I’m… pregnant.” 

You felt Natasha tense up at the unexpected news but she asked, “Does he know?” and you shook your head, “I haven’t told him yet.”

“We can still run away together, we’ll take care and raise the child like our own.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Natasha,” you let go of her hand and walked to where the wine bottle was, grabbing yourself a glass.  “Artur has been wanting to have a child for years and me leaving him for you is a death sentence, for me and especially you.” You said and immediately drank half of the wine in your glass. “This unborn child is now my priority. That is why as much as I want to leave the place I call hell everyday and take another chance of a new life with you I can’t.”

You took another drink and more tears started to flow down, “It also would be best if this is the last time we’ll see each other.” you said with a choked sob. 

Natasha immediately approached you and made you face her, “No, no, moya lyubov, please,” she begged. If her voice already sounded like she was hurt, her eyes showed more pain. “It’s been more than a decade since we last saw each other Y/N, isn’t this supposed to be a sign from the gods that we’re meant to be with each other?” 

She was right, despite after not seeing each for years on end, fate had decided that the both of you would meet once again once the both of you had lost all hope. 

Only in different and more complicated circumstances now.

Natasha held your hand and said, “Please Y/N, don’t leave me again.” Her eyes were begging for you to leave with her.

A sudden knock on the door made you both stand still. “Y/N? Are you in there with Natasha?” It was your husband. 

“I… uh- yes, we’re in here.” you replied and Artur entered the room. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt your chatting but we best get going, it is almost midnight and I know how much you value your rest.” He said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “I sure hope you and Natasha had a great chat.” 

“We did.” Natasha dryly replied with a fake smile plastered on her face as he looked at your husband. 

Artur smiled and asked you, “Well, shall we go?” 

“Yes, let’s go.” you replied and Artur started to walk you outside with him. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to ask Natasha… alone.” you said to him.

“Alright my love, I’ll wait for you outside.” Artur then left the room and once you heard him shut the door you immediately rushed towards Natasha and crashed your lips onto hers one last time. 

And a song someone sings

Natasha felt it, and you did too.

It was farewell.

You walked out of the room without saying another word, only holding onto the memory of a forbidden love that two women failed to save despite being given another chance to do so.   

Perhaps in another life or in another universe, you and Natasha lived the lives you wanted together. It just wasn’t this one.

Once upon a December

[horsebark]

ways to express your nonhumanity without gear

good quality gear can be pricey (for good reason!) but that doesn’t mean you can’t express yourself in other ways. here’s what i have personally found to be helpful! add yours in the notes!

-clothing & accessories:

being a horse makes this somewhat easy as western wear and horse shirts are aplenty. beyond just “shirt with your theriotype on it” think about what makes you feel like your type. for me this is loose clothing, especially a boxy “potato sack” kind of dress. or in colder months, jackets with a fur/sherpa lining make me feel like im wearing an insulated saddle. again, easier cause im a horse but if im going somewhere fancy i get inspired by dressage horses and show ponies. accessories that make me feel horse like are: chunky jewelry, bangles, stuff that makes noise when i walk! also i had to get new headphones, so i got them in a grey and brown option that reminded me of horse tack.

i thrift pretty much everything and this has helped me find really unique pieces as well as cheaper stuff that i don’t feel bad modifying to be more horse like.

-hair:

my partner does both of our hair. we’re both nonhuman and try desperately to make our external forms match the internal form. for me this looks like cropping the sides of my hair, and sometimes putting it in a row of buns down the back. bangs have also been helpful. for him as a crocodile and canid, this looks like matching his hair to his coat color and a choppy/angular haircut.

-piercings/tattoos:

ive talked a little about this before on my blog, but truly piercings and tattoos have eased my species dysphoria so much. i haven’t got any with direct relation to my species yet, but they all help me recognize my skin is mine. in the future i’d like to get a large gauge labret and stretch it, as the oral feeling would remind me of a horse bit. i’d also like to get a coinslot in one of my ears to hang an identification tag in. specific kinds of stretched ear jewelry make me feel horselike too, like (obviously) ear saddles. i also plan on getting a horse tattoo or two, and some horse shoe tattoos on my feet. body mods are expensive but last forever.

-body language & movements:

research into equine behavior has helped me notice what i already do that’s horse like and figure out what i can add. i struggle with speech sometimes so this has been helpful in boosting my range of nonverbal communication. i also watch gait videos and practice them. practicing how your type navigates its environment does not have to be through quads! i don’t do quads because it feels less like how a horse would move. biking helps! something about the way my knees pedal a bike feels equine.

-visit a hearthome:

go camping, see the desert, star gaze. what makes you feel at home? for me these places are: stock shows, rodeos, horse races, antique malls, rocky terrain, and feed stores. sometimes farms give tours to the public. ones not related to being a horse include: dawn/dusk, ice/ocean (this one has only been affirmed by going to an exhibit about orcas), and for some reason the electronics section at a thrift store. if you wouldn’t be able to visit a hearthome for whatever reason, message me and let’s figure something creative out!