Tumgik
#horses man
Conversation
Josephine: I'm...dying. Is this the end for me...? After all my time on this earth, this is the way that I must go...? I can only hope that girl made it out alive...I no longer have the strength to run...I will be gone before anyone can come to save me...
Eater: oof that's a mean scratch have a bandaid and some neosporin
23 notes · View notes
crabussy · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
challenged myself to make simpler redesigns that match the show constraints because I often create very complex designs and I wanted to see if I could make something I liked without going too over the top!! pretty happy with these [:
if you have any questions about my design choices ask away!!
part 2 with ten gazillion background characters including sunburst, luna, and twilight's canterlot friends!
21K notes · View notes
stapledfish · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media
a cowboy with no horse is truly sad so i gave him one!
i know. i have great drawing ideas every time i draw.
3K notes · View notes
wasyago · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✨the dragon slayer✨
4K notes · View notes
rustic-space-fiddle · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Forgive me.
2K notes · View notes
a-multifandom-mess12 · 6 months
Text
I like explaining Hannibal to my friends. Like yeah, Will fucked a lesbian. Then that lesbians creepy brother put her uterus in a pig. Then her and her future wife fed him to his pet eel. Yeah this is a serious show, why do you ask?
3K notes · View notes
stil-lindigo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
cool off viquemare
2K notes · View notes
circuscountdowns · 23 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
@lambment it’s their foolish day!!!! fr fr
2K notes · View notes
ink-the-artist · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
do you guys ever think about dying
4K notes · View notes
guinevereslancelot · 2 years
Text
all the best badass male fantasy heroes aren't cool bc they have a magic sword and an cool backstory btw. aragorn and geralt of rivia would be nothing if they weren't also, fundamentally, horse girls
29K notes · View notes
nvuy · 28 days
Text
hijacked — boothill
summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.
notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh
HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.
warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?
Tumblr media
“Hey, pretty thing.”
Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.
You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.
Did he know?
It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.
“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.
He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.
He just looked so out of place at the banquet.
He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.
“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.
His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.
No weak spots.
“N’aww. Shame.”
The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.
“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”
You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”
“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”
“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”
“Good. You know your worth.”
You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.
Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.
You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.
“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.
He winked. “Guess.”
You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”
“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”
Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.
“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.
He flashed his teeth in warning.
Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”
You stopped short.
He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.
You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.
He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.
Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.
You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.
“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”
“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”
“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”
You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.
The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.
The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.
You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.
Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.
You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”
“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.
You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.
Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.
He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.
Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.
“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”
You gritted your teeth.
You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.
Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.
You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.
You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.
“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.
You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.
Or…
Or what? What else could you do?
Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.
You then formed the worst idea of your life.
With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.
“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.
You fished the USB from your bag.
Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.
He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.
There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.
The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.
You grinned. Gotcha.
When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.
When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.
All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.
It was missing just his head.
He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”
You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”
When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.
Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.
He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.
It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.
He should’ve seen this coming.
You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.
“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”
He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.
“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.
He was glaring at you.
“Did the IPC send you?”
After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.
“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”
“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”
You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.
“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”
Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.
You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.
You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.
You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.
You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.
Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.
“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.
You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”
He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.
He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.
Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.
You snapped the powder shut.
The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”
“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”
You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.
“You’d never hit me, would you?”
His face almost lit up with fury.
It was absolutely hilarious.
“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”
“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.
You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.
“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”
You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”
Begrudgingly, he did so.
You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.
“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”
You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.
“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”
Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.
In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.
You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.
As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.
He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.
He held it between his thumb and index finger.
There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.
Mission accomplished, he supposed.
He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.
He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.
You smelled like strawberry.
1K notes · View notes
keefechambers · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
OJ treating Angel like a horse.
25K notes · View notes
rainbowpopeworld · 2 months
Text
Almost 7 months and the brainlichen are still in control 😈😇
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
soranatus · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Web-Slinger Spider-Man By Flesh.png
4K notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Let the revenge games begin.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
1K notes · View notes
brewed-pangolin · 13 days
Text
MDNI 18+
Expert horseman John MacTavish, who has a very hands-on teaching style and makes you ride the saddle in front of him for post trotting exercises.
His thick frame pressed up against your back. Hands gentle yet firm on your waist as be guides your body to rise and fall with the rhythmic movement of the mares trotting gate.
"Tha's it, bonnie. Watch 'er. Feel 'er as she moves." His instruction's smooth, deliberate. Breath soft and warm along the edge of your neck.
"Ya got it, lass. Up on th'diagonal. Jus' like tha'."
"Eyes forward. Let 'er guide ya."
Your fingers wrapped tightly around the taut weathered reigns. Textured leather broken seamlessly at the seams sliding along your palms. And his expert hands directing the ebb and flow of your hips as the chestnut mare trotted effortlessly within the fields of wheat.
-
And as a reward for your continued equine education, your Scottish horse master gifted you with a private lesson in riding a more able-bodied and robust saddle.
Leather reigns replaced with thick clumps of hair that adorned the broad plateau of his chest. Rolling your hips in tandem with his upward thrust, mirroring the diagonal rhythm you perfected only hours ago.
"Tha's it, hen. Move wit me. Jus' like I taught ya."
The rumbling growl in his voice only accentuated the overwhelming sensation of him beneath you. Feeling him pulse within your silken walls, his hands on your hips as he guided you to bounce without restraint on his throbbing cock.
"Faster, John. I wanna go faster." You pleaded. Breathless and breathtaking while riding him.
"No-,not yet," he retorted. Jaw clenched, caging a moan within his throat, panting as he continued.
"Got'a master-, the trot before you move-, to the canter."
"Then teach me, John. Please."
"Aye. I will," he grunted. Lifting your hips as he vigorously bucked up into your cunt.
"Gonnae teach ya so good, hen. Make ya mine. Make ya me-, highland rodeo queen."
Drabbles Masterlist
829 notes · View notes