#dressage discussion Tumblr posts

  • ivankellydressage
    25.11.2021 - 1 week ago

    Talk Two. Tonight’s theory session spoke about where best to base the training from. Competition benchmarks and pitfalls.

    View Full
  • doebt
    19.07.2021 - 4 monts ago

    I'm also tired of ppl mansplaining various drugs and their effects to me like I've seen it already. sorry i dont feel like going into the morbid details of my childhood everytime u bring it up but trust me it's not fascinating or new to me...LOLL

    #and anything i dont already know...i dont care about #like i DONT CAREEE #I would seriously rather discuss like #the adverse effects of invasive plants on local ecosystems. or sonwthing like that #literally ANYTHING #isnt it also just like social decency to read the room and not like #talk at someone abt smth you KNOW they cant relate to in any meaningful or positive way #Its like if i manipulated every conversation around to me overexplaining like #the complex ins and outs of equestrian dressage movements #and how actually EVERYONE should ride a horse or at least try it a few times. it can be therapeutic you know... #and hey if you ever want a safe environment to ride a horse in? well just hit me up! I have all the horses. the finest horses
    View Full
  • jiayimmusocialnetworkingblog
    01.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Blog 2 Looking deeper

    Definition of public sphere
    Public Sphere is an environment of free speech between the government and its subjects. The German sociologist and philosopher Jurgen Habermas raised awareness of the gap between the public and government. By creating private group gathering the public is able to discuss different topics as they wish. Before the world is dominated by internet, Public Sphere first took place among the middle class people who is well educated as well as being wealthy enough. However Jurgen insisted on his idea of complete equality no matter the wealth, gender and race. This was seen to be effective by 20th century when the "refeudalisation of power" occurred as Media industry develops and mixture of small groups with agenda starts to get involved.
    Public Sphere moved online in the 21st Century
    Especially during Covid-19 lockdown. Online communication have greatly adapted by people. Social Media almost give everyone the equal opportunity to share their opinion on different subjects of their interests. By the word "Almost" means that Social Media does conflict with "Success of Public Sphere" where Hierarchy is absent. Social Media is more accessible through its development. But not as free as it was due to the limitations over sensitive topics that may lead to negativity such as "sexually suggestive content" and "Content that contains self harm or excessive violence".   https://www.facebook.com/help/212826392083694 Interestingly protection layer which eliminate depressing content for the younger generation and all Social Media users was demanded by the public. Therefore "Extent of access" was overturned by its own objects.
    How public sphere links to horsemanship
    Public Sphere was originally made for political topics which will ultimately influence the future of our countries. If we extend the principle of group of individuals having the same opportunity to voice on topics of their choice we have public sphere in almost everywhere. Especially nowadays people is allowed to comment freely under any social media posts except for those who are banned. Animal cruelty is certainly one of the larger issue that need to be addressed. People that practice animal cruelty is inappropriate - How about people who comment hate speech or rude gesture?
    In the Equestrian Industry, due to the incomplete exposure from media certain countries or industries have inflexible impression of horse cruelty practices. For example horse racing have horses sent off as meat animal after they finish their career. Countries like Russia and China are the "Horse eating" countries. I had a personal encounter in September 2021 when my new horse arrived. "Formerly licensed dutch stallion sold to China" was the headline of the article on euro dressage - one of the most popular equestrian news media platform. The Facebook and instagram post was quickly deleted after receiving hate comments from people I do not know. Without understanding the article they have posted strong comments about me and my country as well as finding my own social media to place upsetting comments. Assumptions itself is understandable - Everyone's knowledge links places to certain impressions. In the previous months eurodressage did publish an article about horse meat. As a result negative emotions towards China among eurodressage's audience is predictable. The inconsideration of the actual article's content is however not how it should be.
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PzTyNe4tP4
    View Full
  • equineorganiser
    18.10.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Types of Saddles That Can Fit For Your Horse

    Knowing about the different types of saddle that can fit your horse is the best thing you must be aware as a horse-owner or trainer. Here, we discuss about it in detail.

    A saddle is an essential accessory that is for horses. It is the seat on which a rider sits comfortably for the ride. In addition, the saddle plays a significant role in connecting a rider with the colt as it is the only way of transferring information for a better mode of communication. Fitting a horse saddle with various elements is crucial as it also saves your horse's back from any injury, and with natural aids, the rider controls a horse's movement.

    Types of horse saddles

    However, different types of saddles are for various purposes of horse riding. They are as follows:

    Jumping Saddle

    It is structured for slow jumping. The saddle structure permits the rider for a legitimate leg position, which enables energetic raises during bounces. Shorter jumps allow for legitimate point of bowed knees, which is much greater than others. The seat is half-shallow, which permits the rider to sit gently on top of the saddle. It features a square cantle which helps the rider to go with the natural movements of the horse. Depending on the rider skills, like a beginner or a professional, a jumping saddle has big and small knee blocks. Also, the saddle has to fit behind the shoulder blade of the horse, as putting it in front might cause harm to the back of the animal.

    Pony Saddle

    It is for horses that are structured for children. The critical element of these saddles is their development that considers the correct improvement of the youthful skeletons. Cantles are distinctive from the ones in grown-up saddles. They are much smaller so that they can fit the kids' pelvis and hip joints. Junior saddles have profound and have delicate seats, as well as woollen panels. It has knee squares joined with velcros, which permits them to put their legs to not slip to the front.

    Dressage Saddles

    It features a more profound tree, big knee and thigh squares of different shapes, lengths, and widths. The dressage rider's position may be described as inverse to the jumping rider's as it is like a straight position on the saddle. In such a position, the rider has a much lesser point on bend within the knees. It holds the torso of the rider in a static position while riding.

    General Saddle

    It is a combined form of jumping and dressage saddle that do not have specific shapes; hence, they make comfortable seating during a ride. It is used for general riding and very slight jumps if required. In addition, for riding lessons, it is very popularly used.

    Racing Saddle

    It is a very lightweight saddle designed explicitly for jockeys who ride on the thorough racecourse. It has a flat seat as the rider barely sits rather than hovers. It is made per the weight of the jockey and how much the horse can carry.

    Polo Saddle

    It is designed for the game polo. The structure is in a manner where it has a long flat seat with saddle flaps. Thus, it provides a rider with a more extended leg position with minimal padding and freedom to move through the entire game.

    #Fitting a horse saddle
    View Full
  • muainsam98
    01.10.2021 - 2 monts ago

    Pleasure Horse – What Makes Them Different

    A pleasure horse is a type of horse that is used for recreational riding. They are not bred or trained for any specific purpose but instead are made to be ridden recreationally by people who enjoy it. These horses can often be found at stables and farms where they live with other horses in large paddocks. If you are interested in picking up the hobby of riding these animals, there is no better time than now!

    This article will discuss how a pleasure horse differs from other types of horses and what benefits it provides - read on to find out more!

    Pleasure

    Horses are an animal that many people connect with. They are beautiful, majestic, and powerful animals. Some people ride horses for pleasure or to compete in horse jumping competitions. With all the benefits of riding a horse, there is one thing that stands out more than anything else: their healing properties. Horses have been used as therapeutic animals by humans since ancient times; they were initially domesticated because they provided transportation and served as livestock, but their connection to human wellbeing became evident over time. Research has shown that horses offer psychological relief through calming effects on heart rate and blood pressure levels - which can be helpful for those who suffer from anxiety disorders like PTSD - while also aiding with feelings of depression due to increased serotonin production and social interactions through many activities.

    Responsibility

    The pleasure horse requires some training and discipline, but most will provide. The more pleasant you are with your pleasure horse, the better cooperation and results you will achieve. While it is tempting to be firm or even harsh with a new horse, do not ever spank or physically punish him. He may resist your efforts at first; if so, be patient and consistent.

    The pleasure horse must be groomed and cared for. The rider should lead and guide their horse with confidence and control to ensure safe and pleasurable riding experiences for both animals and humans. The pleasure horse is trained in obedience, has certain knowledge of dressage, jumping, cross-country, evening, showmanship, and other activities involved in competitions such as team penning or roping contests. Pleasure horses often compete at horse shows such as 4-H fairs or open shows such as Arabian Horse Association recognized competitions.

    Physical Benefits

    Horses have been used for centuries to provide people with a source of food, work, and transportation. While horses are still used in some capacities today, many people enjoy riding them simply for its pleasure. Horseback riding has both physical benefits as well as mental benefits that can help create a healthier lifestyle.

    We all know how physical exercise makes us feel good. It can even give us runner’s high, that euphoric feeling of wellbeing and relaxation. Exercise also has its mental health benefits, helping people with anxiety and depression feel better. It can also boost our cognitive skills, making us more alert and giving us better memories.

    Horseback riding can help prevent back pain caused by muscle spasms or spinal degeneration as well as knee pain from arthritis. It can strengthen your core muscles as you sit upright, which is especially beneficial if you are dealing with pregnancy-related sciatic nerve problems. The repetitive motion of trotting also stimulates joints and increases blood flow through your body, allowing tissues to heal faster and reducing swelling. Another benefit of horseback riding is that it helps improve balance and stability while providing a good cardiovascular workout. Riding regularly will help reduce stress levels while promoting positive thinking—most people report feeling less anxious after spending time with horses.

    Mental Benefits

    What comes to mind when you think of riding a pleasure horse? As a child, it is probably about having fun. That is because riding horses is inherently enjoyable. However, several mental health benefits from horseback riding include increased self-esteem and improved memory. When you ride regularly, your brain physically changes as well—there are more receptors for dopamine and serotonin in areas associated with mood and movement regulation. In fact, exercise makes up roughly 50 percent of all non-pharmaceutical treatments for depression! So go find yourself a trusty steed and have fun!

    View Full
  • earhartsease
    22.08.2021 - 3 monts ago

    Often I can have two phrases run through my head at the same time, and today they are:

    I wish I were an artist

    and

    Millipede Dressage

    (and this itself came from a discussion about "footprints in the sand")

    View Full
  • thedistrictroleplay
    07.07.2021 - 4 monts ago

    ID:

    Name | Nickname | Age:  Izabela Antonova Sokolova | Iza, Bella, Izzy | 27 Birthday | Astrology:   Pronouns | Sexual identity: she/her |  bisexual Birthplace | Raised: Elena, Bulgaria (Velika Tornovo province) Residence:  Downtown Occupation:  Horse trainer/Artist Faceclaim: Nina Dobrev

    TRIGGER WARNINGS: injury tw, depression tw  

    TIMELINE: 

    1990- Anton and Nevena Sokolov get married in Elena, Bulgaria

    1992- Anton and Nevena Sokolov start their young family with a baby boy named Yordan

    1994- Izabela Antonova Sokolov is born

    1998- Iza begins competing in shows.

    1999- Iza wins her first show and her focus shifts to competing full-time outside of school

    2000- Starts her career in dressage.  

    2002- Starts jumping and it’s then that she finds her niche. 

    2005- Wins her first show jumping competition.

    2009- Starts training with the Olympics in mind.

    2010- Is accepted on the Bulgarian Equestrian Team for the London Olympics set for 2012.

    2012- Competes in the Olympics, brings home two gold medals and a silver for jumping and dressage. Has an accident during the cross-country course and nearly drowns

    2013- Moves to New York for rehab and falls in love with art

    2015- Meets Aly Acosta during yoga class and the two become best friends

    2018- Decides to get back into training horses, despite her debilitating leg injury. 

    2020- Decides to move to DC to help her parents open another branch of their breeding business and pursues art in the meantime.

    BIOGRAPHY:  

    In the horse community in Bulgaria, there was a name synonymous with influence and it was Sokolov. Anton and Nevena were two powerhouses who seemingly came together for the greater good. Anton came from a long line of English riding champions and Nevena came from a long line of successful breeders. Together, they were unstoppable. Much to their parents’ delight, the two married.
    Two years later, they welcomed a baby boy they named Yordan and Izabela followed suit three years later. Growing up, she was involved in the horse world like her parents before her and their parents before them. By the time she reached primary school, she was already jumping, and it was clear a star was on the rise. Her natural curve was nurtured and she was trained by the best money could buy. In the summer of 2012, she competed in London for the summer Olympics on the Bulgarian Equestrian Team. She earned nearly perfect scores in dressage, two gold medals and a silver medal jumping, as well as a silver medal for eventing. It appeared as though Izabela was unstoppable after medaling in almost every event she qualified for, until a heavy rain the night before had made the ground deceptively soft. The cross-country event nearly claimed her life after landing wrong from a jump and sliding down landing in the riverbank jump on the course. Izabela’s leg was pinned beneath her horse as they both came down hard. After severely breaking her leg, breaking a few ribs, and nearly drowning, her career had ended.
    Izabela fell into a deep depression after the incident that had made international news. After all, she had lost her life’s dream. Upon learning of the existence of a rehab center in the United States, Izabela moved to New York for physical therapy. After slowly regaining the use of her leg, she was hit with the devastating news of never being able to compete again. Riding any longer than a few minutes left her in debilitating pain and shaking in fear. It was during rehab that she discovered a love of art. Painting, drawing, sculpting, all of those things eased some of the anger inside her and helped her translate the helplessness she felt. During rehab, she honed her English beyond the bare minimum of asking for directions and discussing the weather. By the time she decided to leave the center and despite the hurtful comments and struggles, she was fairly fluent in English.
    Getting a job in America with her injuries and somewhat limited language capabilities was difficult, along with applying for a visa in order to stay in the country. Eventually, she began helping her family with their breeding farm and training horses from the ground up. Her art soon took precedence, but she continued to work part-time in order to keep her citizenship current. It took a long while, but eventually, Izabela earned her green card that kept her in the country for three years.
    With her family being her family and their desires for her to focus on her equestrian career with the Olympics in mind, relationships were few and far between. Izabela never allowed herself to become attached to anyone, not when they were a potential distraction and a danger towards everything she had worked towards her entire life. Things burned hot and fast and never lasted. Boredom took over as soon as attraction began. Sex was easy to get, love was nonexistent.
    With her wild days, her family, in a fit of concern gives her an ultimatum: either stop partying and join the family business or risk being cut off and sent back to Bulgaria. With no other choice or prospect, Izabela agrees to the terms and stays in New York to help the next generation of show jumpers. As her family grew their business, she agreed to move to Washington DC to head the office with the condition that she be allowed to continue her art. Her side hustle soon caught the attention of the art scene and not long after, the same critics pursued her for commissions and hung her work in galleries.
    She’s done the best she can to help with her parents’ business, but with fewer people wanting to train their horses/buy new foals, her hours began slipping behind until she stopped meeting her requirement of employment for her visa. The trick now is to trick the government into thinking she had, in fact, fallen in love with an American citizen. All she can hope is that they’ll buy it.

    Iza  is written by Sunshine.

    #injury tw#depression tw #district character bio. #c; iza sokolova #nina dobrev fc #pronouns; she/her#residence: downtown#writer; sunshine
    View Full
  • secretaryunpaid
    01.07.2021 - 5 monts ago

    Summoned...

    Rating: General

    Word Count: 2,455 approximately

    Warnings: Kidnapping, anger, sadness

    ~~~~~ Temporarily Detained ~~~~~

    As Riley leaves her visit with Dahlia, the driver hands her a parcel, but it has no information as to the sender or the location from where it originated from. Her once relaxed  composure tenses, she looks to the rear view mirror to see if the driver can sense her apprehension over opening the package… but he is looking steadfast at the road ahead.

    As she tears open the parcel, a crown and sword pendant falls into her hand. She pulls out the letter and begins to read it. 

    ~~

    Don’t fret, my Queen. You are not in danger, just in need of your presence. There are things that we must discuss. And before the thought fully enters your mind, the child safety locks have been enacted, so just sit tight. You will know what you are being summoned for soon enough. Phone or text noone, your cell is being monitored.

    P.S. 

    The blindfold is for precaution. Wouldn’t want you giving away our location. See you soon.

    ~~

    Although she knows the words speak truth, she quietly pulls the handle… Her mind immediately tells her to fight her way out, but what chance would she stand to take control of the vehicle from the back seat. Playing out numerous scenarios while en route, she just couldn’t see executing any of them without inflicting self harm. 

    She remembers the technology that Queen Amalas had recently outfitted the Crown with. But how would she activate it from here, and how would it go undetected. Devising a strategy in her mind she addresses the driver.

    “So you are to keep an Eagle’s Eye on me is that correct? This is some kind of stealth mode … you haven’t even blindfolded me yet…” Her watch face glows to let her know that the spy drones under her command have been activated and are currently searching for her biorhythms, with stealth mode now activated. She just hopes that they can locate her in time before she reaches whatever location the driver is taking her to.

    He tosses a blindfold over the seat, never uttering a word, as he has been told not to address the Queen. She is very cunning and would more than likely find some way to direct the conversation for beneficial information. He watches on in the rear view mirror to make sure that she indeed secures the blindfold in place. As a test, he turns his weapon to her, but she remains still. He lowers the silenced weapon and continues on their path.

    ~~~~~ The Oval Table ~~~~~

    There she sat, silently fuming... seething with an anger brewing inside of her... looking upon the faces of those that had put her in the position of betrayal... treason... Only she knew that this was her ploy to save her husband from the hidden evils that his benevolent heart never allowed him to see.

    She eyed each one carefully, slowly recounting the events that told most of their defiance. How could these people think that they would rule better than my Liam... my King... is beyond me...

    This selfish lot formed to serve their own needs and desires, not that of the Cordonian people... Just wait until I have my chance... Please keep underestimating me... I just have to stave off any suspicions until I can properly enact my revenge.

    `````

    Riley focused intently on Emmeline Ebrim, Duchess of Portavira... Remembering learning to ride dressage and mastering polo to raise money for the Ebrim’s province during a celebrity match she’d organized to sway their support for attendance of her marriage to the King.... disgusted at how they planned not to attend the Royal Wedding “if funds could not be generated to cover their province’s significant loss during the storms”. Liam’s generosity on behalf of the Crown more than made up for any loss this fishing province could have suffered. 

    She thought of how she worked hard at getting Penelope to confess her secret before everyone, all the while knowing that Pen’s confession wouldn’t change Zeke’s love for her... also eliminating their need to continue making blackmail payments to Pen’s ex-husband... a secret that had caused her parents to be under Barthelemy Beaumont’s control... Facilitating the unification of the Ebrim and Theron families by marrying their Penelope and Ezekiel, after their facilitator cancelled last minute.

    The most painful remembrance being Emmeline allowing Constantine to use her ... convincing her to have her daughter manipulate Riley during a time when she felt closest to her... Emmeline had convinced Penelope to pay Applewood Manor Staff to betray Riley’s privacy... leading to one of the most scandalous and trying times for her and Liam, almost costing them their future together... 

    Her respect for Pen’s mother disappearing at the memory... how dare she sit here with the look of pride over her position... I ought to slit that bitch’s throat!!! Liv should never have taught me how to conceal a blade in the most sacred of places...

    Next her attention briefly focused on one who made her gut writhe, Neville Vancoer. This was the cowardly, self righteous, entitled prick who felt that he knew better than anyone that she didn’t belong in the monarchy. He felt that anyone of commoner blood would only benefit in a service capacity. Across from her he sat, almost gloating at the fact that she was now forced into this position. Her thoughts … Drake should have finished him in the duel… He definitely isn’t someone she would have spared.

    The more she listened to them speak about tearing down her beloved husband, the more she became enraged, finding it difficult to hold her emotions within. Slamming her fists against the table, she demands to know why she has been summoned to this meeting. She refuses to be a marionette for their amusement. Interrupting without forethought, “Tell me what is needed to be shared for my benefit so that I can exit this meeting! There are more pressing matters that I must attend to.”

    Infuriated, King Eiric reacts... his hand squeezing Riley’s throat as he snatches her from her seat. "You may be the Queen, but I will end you the next time you disrespect me in this way!" Bringing her eye to eye, his breath a distaste upon her skin, "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" Returning a dagger-like glare, "Let. Go. Of. Me. NOW!"

    He releases her, impressed by her ability to maintain her heated composure. "Don't test me further Rile-"

    "That's Queen Riley to you! Just because I am now a part of this .. THIS (hand giving wild gestures towards those seated around the table)... doesn't give you the right to consider me your friend any longer. I swore a duty to Cordonia, not to you! I will always do what is best for my country."

    "That is the very reason that you will be MY queen... and so now you know the reasons for summoning you."

    Her heart drops instantly. In order to become anyone's queen other than Liam's, this would mean his death! Panic immediately set in, but she would and could not let this show. Her mind could only think of protecting her husband.

    Anton Severus descended from Anton Luno who matched his ancestor in their crimes, which included terrorism, kidnapping, treason, and attempted/successful murders. No one was aware of his existence, but Anton Severus had a son… Anton Edison of Monaco. He had been the person responsible for the ring of high dollar heists, using select criminals with specialized talents to complete his maniacal plans.

    He enters the room, calmly telling King Eirik that he shall have no such honor. Queen Riley is to become his… after all, she did just take his father’s life. As he removes his facial covering, she recognizes him as the waiter from the night King Eiric first disclosed the identity of the Via Emperii to Riley… showing select members that she’d allowed closest to her in her misjudgement to trust them.

    Anton Edison single handedly ruled over the Sons of Earth, Sons of Anarchy, and the Dark Realm. He is in line to succeed in leadership over the Via Emperii, although King Eirik holds the position of leadership currently.

    As Riley watched the display of testosterone before her, she made mental notes about Edison… his stance, his tone, his cologne, any and everything about him. She decided to gain his attention, as this was an enemy that she would need to make quick study of.

    She approached him, circling his frame as if in attraction. She gently lay a hand against his chest as her eyes peered up into his sterling grays, glinting with deceptive allure. “I’m a good fuck you know…” His eyes widen, but before he can inquire, she completes her statement, “Friend you can keep… I am a married woman after all…Although, I would love to get to know more about you.”

    Jealous, Eirik insists that she move away from Edison, and return to her chair. Edison resumes addressing the others at the table, never truly taking his eyes off of the fascinating Queen of Cordonia. Once everyone was greeted, he assumed the chair at the opposite head of the table as Eirik.

    Fixated on Riley, he welcomes her into the fold, expressing that he knows this is a complex position for her to be in, but that he has every confidence that she can fulfill her role as delegated. He leads by saying that he does not wish death for King Liam, but slow torture instead. 

    His plan involves imprisonment as his father formerly was, along with a slow torment induced by slow acting poisons introduced to him by none other than Riley. It will be her position to lure Liam to his imprisonment, at which time he is to receive his first dose of the poison used to kill his mother, given at a level to only produce hallucinations. His captive state to be endured the same number of years that Liam chose to imprison Severus.

    Edison focused on Riley to see if her demeanor would show signs that she was not one hundred percent invested in fulfilling her portion of the takeover of Cordonia’s Crown. She gave no signs of wavering in decision. Riley appeared totally on board with every action the Via Emperii plotted in their conquest.

    ~~~~~ Aboard Cordonia’s Guidon ~~~~~

    Bound for New York on the King’s private jet, Cordonia’s Guidon, Drake shows Liam a magazine showing an article about Dalton Enterprises. It showcases pictures of the company itself, it’s moniker, and the surrounding amenities such as large parks, four to five star rated cafes, pubs and restaurants, with mentions of the exhibits of the High Line. As he peruses the article, his eyes flinch, having landed on ‘his’ photo…

    He looks at Drake, “It’s him… the man who has been raising my sons… the man who…” His voice trails off as a sudden ache forms in his chest as his heart stills… “Her husband…”

    Drake pats his best friend's shoulder, then moves to make them both a drink. Liam seems frozen in time … He had been so motivated in his quest to help his wife escape her mental prison, he’d never attempted to research Samuel Dalton.

    Closing the magazine, he opens his laptop and begins his query into Alina’s life… “Why have I not done this prior to now, Drake? Is this a sign that I, myself, and not ready for this… to acknowledge Alina’s death and… and the fact that…” He looks concerned but also broken. 

    “I am a father … a FATHER Drake… I should have been for her prenatal care… for their first kicks… for their ultrasounds… for their births… for… for HER…” Tears rush over his eyebrows as the dam holding back his emotions crumbles…

    He pinches the corners of his eyes as if plugging a sprung leak, expecting that his strength would return upon releasing them… but once he pulled his hands away, the stream came quicker than before… his every strength faltering…

    His character defied, he became that same little boy that heard the words fall from his father’s lips … 

    “How could she be dead? I need her … I need HER Drake… How am I to do this without her?? She was my forever love… I was forced to accept her exiting my life Drake… I would never have chosen that !!! Especially carrying my children !!! Why Drake? Why???” His strength and composure totally at their complete weakest points, he holds his face in his hands, bending to his lap, crying out every emotion of despair, loss, frustration, anger, until he reaches a feeling of  nothingness…

    Never seeing his friend this desperate for answers that he’d never discover… answers to how Alina could exclude him from his own children’s life experiences… There wouldn’t come words to ease this level of betrayal, confusion, and grief mixed with deep regret… Drake taps the glass of chilled liquid courage, comfort, and friendship against Liam’s hand for acceptance… “Take this, Liam.”

    Wordless, his palm turns upward, clasping the glass. After diaphragmatic breaths, he swallows the momentary cure… allowing the burn of the whiskey to eat away his thoughts as it traveled through him. His deep exhale returning some form of composure, he offers Drake thanks, and presses the enter key… 

    Steadying himself to relive his past… a necessary process to prepare him for the approaching present … meeting his sons… the face off with Dalton, should he resist giving the boys over without complication.

    Before long, Liam’s mind settles on the loss of Riley’s child... An unfair turn of events that changed his genteel wife into ... a persona unfamiliar... Maybe the boys would help her true self surface once again.

    ~~~~~ Alina’s Love, a look into the past  ~~~~~

    ````````

    Alina couldn’t believe that of all people to end up in her suggested friends list on Facebook Riley Brooks would be the first in line… What is this fresh hell? Curious after having read the magazine article while in the nail salon, she clicks open her page. “My… she is beautiful… and such a caring spirit… it’s no wonder Liam fell for her… an American at that…” She clicks it closed trying not to torment herself further… 

    She powers on her Keurig, placing in her favorite brew while frothing milk. She pulls open the fridge, removing the bowl of honeydew melon, blueberries, and cotton candy grapes. She moves about the kitchen trying to divert her mind… looking at the painted handprints the boys and Sam made for her on the first Mother’s Day she would experience, tracing their small outlines of their hands with a sweet smile on her face. 

    Out of the corner of her eye, the picture frame of the boys at three years old offering her a bouquet of baby’s breath, nine lavender and six white roses catches her attention. She remembers Sam explaining the meaning of the number and color to her.  “I give you nine lavender, because I fell in love at first sight with you. There are nine, because I feel that we will be together for eternity… I never want to be without you, Alina. You are my world, and although I was slow to come around… You have given my the most precious thing I could want… a family. The six white roses signify that I want to be yours forever. You have given me the purest form of love any person could deserve. You have been faithful and supportive throughout this transition into Dalton Enterprises as CMO, knowing that my goal of becoming CEO is of the utmost importance to this family. I want every security for us so that we can freely experience the world.” 

    #@Becoming Mrs. Dalton #@TNA-TRR crossover #@Alina Dalton #@King Liam Rhys #@secretaryunpaid #sam dalton #the nanny affair #@pixie88 #@aussieez #@ezekielbhandarivellos
    View Full
  • themes-testers
    25.06.2021 - 5 monts ago

    Name: Izabela Antonova Sokolova Sanders

    FC: Nina Dobrev

    Character gender: cis

    Character birthday: January 17th, 1994 (27)

    Birthplace: Elena, Bulgaria (Velika Tarnovo province)

    Neighborhood: Countryside

    Length of residency: Since September of 2012

    Occupation: Artist

    Song title: Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson

    Bio:

    Triggers: injury, depression

    In the horse community in Bulgaria, there was a name synonymous with influence and it was Sokolov. Anton and Nevena were two powerhouses who seemingly came together for the greater good. Anton came from a long line of English riding champions and Nevena came from a long line of successful breeders. Together, they were unstoppable. Much to their parents’ delight, the two married.
    Two years later, they welcomed a baby boy they named Yordan and Izabela followed suit three years later. Growing up, she was involved in the horse world like her parents before her and their parents before them. By the time she reached primary school, she was already jumping, and it was clear a star was on the rise. Her natural curve was nurtured and she was trained by the best money could buy. In the summer of 2012, she competed in London for the summer Olympics on the Bulgarian Equestrian Team. She earned nearly perfect scores in dressage, two gold medals and a silver medal jumping, as well as a silver medal for eventing. It appeared as though Izabela was unstoppable after medaling in almost every event she qualified for, until a heavy rain the night before had made the ground deceptively soft. The cross-country event nearly claimed her life after landing wrong from a jump and sliding down landing in the riverbank jump on the course. Izabela’s leg was pinned beneath her horse as they both came down hard. After severely breaking her leg, breaking a few ribs, and nearly drowning, her career had ended.
    Izabela fell into a deep depression after the incident that had made international news. After all, she had lost her life’s dream. Upon learning of the existence of a rehab center in the United States, Izabela moved to Turtle Bay for physical therapy. After slowly regaining the use of her leg, she was hit with the devastating news of never being able to compete again. Riding any longer than a few minutes left her in debilitating pain and shaking in fear. It was during rehab that she discovered a love of art. Painting, drawing, sculpting, all of those things eased some of the anger inside her and helped her translate the helplessness she felt. During rehab, she honed her English beyond the bare minimum of asking for directions and discussing the weather. By the time she decided to leave the center and despite the hurtful comments and struggles, she was fairly proficient in English.
    Getting a job in America with her injuries and somewhat limited language capabilities was difficult, along with applying for a visa in order to stay in the country. Eventually, she began helping her family with their breeding farm and training horses from the ground up. Her art soon took precedence, but she continued to work part-time in order to keep her citizenship current. It took a long while, but eventually, Izabela earned her green card that kept her in the country for three years.
    With her family being her family and their desires for her to focus on her equestrian career with the Olympics in mind, relationships were few and far between. Izabela never allowed herself to become attached to anyone, not when they were a potential distraction and a danger towards everything she had worked towards her entire life. Things burned hot and fast and never lasted. Boredom took over as soon as attraction began. And so went her relationship with a cowboy named Wesley. He was smart, sexy, dangerous, and exciting, yet Izabela found herself uninterested in him. Most conversations consisted of his accomplishments and complaining about his rodeo rival. It wasn’t until she went to a bar with her best friend and had an argument that she met said rival. Izabela hadn’t intended to fall in love with Christopher Sanders, yet it was a force completely beyond her control. They were married within months of meeting, much to the surprise of those closest to them, following an accident Chris suffered in the rodeo.
    Though Izabela has been in the United States for years, she still struggles. She is hyper aware of how she is perceived, due to harmful stereotypes of Eastern European women that have resulted in verbal abuse hurled her way. Even with a progressive thought process in current generations, there would always be people in the community who feel the Sokolovs didn’t belong in Turtle Bay. It has cost her jobs and opportunities, though she hasn’t told her husband such. Despite her setbacks, both past and current, she continues to thrive.

    Personality:

    Positive traits: Driven, creative, perseverant

    Negative traits: Headstrong, impulsive, argumentative

    Misc:

    Here is a moodboard!

    Here is a Pinterest board!

    Izabela Sokolova is played by Admin Sunshine

    View Full
  • loli234taeer4
    21.06.2021 - 5 monts ago

    (*EPUB)-> Academic Equitation: A Training System Based on the Methods of D'Aure, Baucher and L'Hotte - BY G?n?ral Decarpentry in PDF, EPub online.

     Academic Equitation: A Training System Based on the Methods of D'Aure, Baucher and L'Hotte

    by G?n?ral Decarpentry

      Click Here Download =>Download Or Read Here

     Descriptions :

    Synopsis : Originally written and published in 1949, Academic Equitation was considered by dressage experts to be the most important contribution to classical training in the twentieth century. This book was intended as a preparation for international dressage competitions but is far more than this. It discusses the subjects of academic equitation, the riding master and the choice of horse before introducing the reader to the author's systematic program, covering the very early training right up to the most advanced movements. The appendix deals with lungeing, work in hand, long reins and pillar work. General Decarpentry was not only a distinguished scholar of artistic equitation but also equally versed in putting the theories into practice. He deals with the education of the young horse and the complications and details of advanced schooling with the hand of a master. Although he claims that nothing in the book is his?his training system is based on the methods of D'Aure, Baucher and

     Details : Author : Général Decarpentry Pages : 282 pages Publisher : Trafalgar Square Books Language : ISBN-10 : 1570765502 ISBN-13 : 9781570765506[DOWNLOAD IN ~!PDF Academic Equitation: A Training System Based on the Methods of D’Aure, Baucher and L’Hotte #*BOOK]Reading Download Pdf Epub

    View Full
  • katiestylingblog
    21.06.2021 - 5 monts ago

    - I then looked up some questions which related specifically to female athletes and the issues surrounding women's sport because I think that would be a really interesting topic to cover in the interview and would drive the overall meaning behind the project.

    - I also thought Izzy's experience as a woman in the sporting world would be interesting to discuss and dressage is a woman dominated sport so her experience may be refreshingly different.

    -

    View Full
  • themetesterr
    13.04.2021 - 7 monts ago

    Name: Izabela Antonova Sokolova Sanders

    FC: Nina Dobrev

    Character gender: cis

    Character birthday: January 17th, 1994 (27)

    Birthplace: Elena, Bulgaria (Velika Tarnovo province)

    Neighborhood: Countryside

    Length of residency: Since September of 2012

    Occupation: Artist

    Song title: Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson

    Bio:

    Triggers: injury, depression

    In the horse community in Bulgaria, there was a name synonymous with influence and it was Sokolov. Anton and Nevena were two powerhouses who seemingly came together for the greater good. Anton came from a long line of English riding champions and Nevena came from a long line of successful breeders. Together, they were unstoppable. Much to their parents’ delight, the two married.
    Two years later, they welcomed a baby boy they named Yordan and Izabela followed suit three years later. Growing up, she was involved in the horse world like her parents before her and their parents before them. By the time she reached primary school, she was already jumping, and it was clear a star was on the rise. Her natural curve was nurtured and she was trained by the best money could buy. In the summer of 2012, she competed in London for the summer Olympics on the Bulgarian Equestrian Team. She earned nearly perfect scores in dressage, two gold medals and a silver medal jumping, as well as a silver medal for eventing. It appeared as though Izabela was unstoppable after medaling in almost every event she qualified for, until a heavy rain the night before had made the ground deceptively soft. The cross-country event nearly claimed her life after landing wrong from a jump and sliding down landing in the riverbank jump on the course. Izabela’s leg was pinned beneath her horse as they both came down hard. After severely breaking her leg, breaking a few ribs, and nearly drowning, her career had ended.
    Izabela fell into a deep depression after the incident that had made international news. After all, she had lost her life’s dream. Upon learning of the existence of a rehab center in the United States, Izabela moved to Turtle Bay for physical therapy. After slowly regaining the use of her leg, she was hit with the devastating news of never being able to compete again. Riding any longer than a few minutes left her in debilitating pain and shaking in fear. It was during rehab that she discovered a love of art. Painting, drawing, sculpting, all of those things eased some of the anger inside her and helped her translate the helplessness she felt. During rehab, she honed her English beyond the bare minimum of asking for directions and discussing the weather. By the time she decided to leave the center and despite the hurtful comments and struggles, she was fairly proficient in English.
    Getting a job in America with her injuries and somewhat limited language capabilities was difficult, along with applying for a visa in order to stay in the country. Eventually, she began helping her family with their breeding farm and training horses from the ground up. Her art soon took precedence, but she continued to work part-time in order to keep her citizenship current. It took a long while, but eventually, Izabela earned her green card that kept her in the country for three years.
    With her family being her family and their desires for her to focus on her equestrian career with the Olympics in mind, relationships were few and far between. Izabela never allowed herself to become attached to anyone, not when they were a potential distraction and a danger towards everything she had worked towards her entire life. Things burned hot and fast and never lasted. Boredom took over as soon as attraction began. And so went her relationship with a cowboy named Wesley. He was smart, sexy, dangerous, and exciting, yet Izabela found herself uninterested in him. Most conversations consisted of his accomplishments and complaining about his rodeo rival. It wasn’t until she went to a bar with her best friend and had an argument that she met said rival. Izabela hadn’t intended to fall in love with Christopher Sanders, yet it was a force completely beyond her control. They were married within months of meeting, much to the surprise of those closest to them, following an accident Chris suffered in the rodeo.
    Though Izabela has been in the United States for years, she still struggles. She is hyper aware of how she is perceived, due to harmful stereotypes of Eastern European women that have resulted in verbal abuse hurled her way. Even with a progressive thought process in current generations, there would always be people in the community who feel the Sokolovs didn’t belong in Turtle Bay. It has cost her jobs and opportunities, though she hasn’t told her husband such. Despite her setbacks, both past and current, she continues to thrive.

    Personality:

    Positive traits: Driven, creative, perseverant

    Negative traits: Headstrong, impulsive, argumentative

    Misc:

    Here is a moodboard!

    Here is a Pinterest board!

    Izabela Sokolova is played by Admin Sunshine

    View Full
  • cowboyshit
    03.04.2021 - 8 monts ago
    #I’m shutting myself up now cause I feel like I could ramble forever LOL #I doubt there is a breed you could tell me that I’d be like :/ no. #I mean... I’m not very fond of shetlands only cause every Shetland I’ve ever known has been a JERK #and I’ve only ridden one Arabian that wasn’t hotheaded but I do think they’re very beautiful #also - when it comes to qhs you need a ranch bred hq. what they’ve done to the breed in the show ring is abysmal #those tiny heads and too-thick bodies??? #it’s like with the arabians dished faces and the way they’re messing with that too #ashley answers #not wrestling related but horse related
    View Full
  • welshponies
    28.03.2021 - 8 monts ago

    just a little musing (hi i'm back)

    i like to browse the web and read discussions between people, without actually contributing. i guess you can call i'm a silent read? anyway, today i came across a discussion on a forum where i saw someone write something that resonated with me. i thought i'd share on horseblr.

    the question was: how wise is it for low level riders to ride high level horses?

    this one person replied saying that a horse is just a horse. they may have competed at so or so level, but the horse didn't ask to become a high (or low) level horse. so because of this, the horse wouldn't care whether they are doing those more advanced exercises or not. it's just a horse, doing what it's been asked to do.

    while the answer to this question is more complicated i feel (every horse is different, and some may respond better to riders with less experience than others) i do think this is a basic that we sometimes might forget.

    these big loyal animals are doing what we train them to do, but not because they asked. they can surely have preferences or even likes (starlight LOVED to jump, and donna loved to go for long hacks and sprints, whereas elstar preferred dressage in the safe arena) but at the end of the day they are still a horse first and foremost.

    View Full
  • melqascas
    28.02.2021 - 9 monts ago

    CAS summarizing posts

    CAS PROJECT: Organization of WOŚP grand finale

    links: https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/643925347701833728/the-process-was-very-long-and-sometimes-also-very

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/643925170271174656/cas-project

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/643924609155153920/cas-project

    EVIDENCE OF LO1:

    My personal growth and improvement is most visible in my horseback riding achievements as well as art development. I tried variety of different painting techniques, even sewing on canvas (which by the way was my favorite experience driven by CAS). My horse riding skills improved drastically throughout these 18 months. Not only I am more aware of the horse itself and his movements and behaviors, but also I am much more in control than before.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/630592082093965313/creativity

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619459882591174656/activity-06052020-i-came-back-to-horse-riding

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/190631119485/activity-02022020-today-i-had-jumping-training

    EVIDENCE OF LO2:

    During the period of these 18 months I developed a lot of new skills such as baking. Due to my increased rate of cooking in general I tried to bake, which was not easy for me at first. Now, after this long period of self improvement, I can bake many delicious things and share them with my friends and family.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/639001939303088128/creativity

    Another important skill developed by me is teaching. During Winter Holidays 2020 I had a pleasure to work at a company and teach people how to ski. I met tons of amazing children, that I had pleasure to teach and see how their skills improve due to my hard work. I also met an outstanding group of ski instructors from all around Poland, that I am glad to call my friends now.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619454464742588416/10022020-activity-this-weekend-i-started-my-job

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619455167022170112/activity-22022020-the-second-week-of-my-job-also

    EVIDENCE OF LO3:

    The most planning I had during organizing Animal Rights Faculty meetings. This is when I had to check whether everyone are prepared and if they have their presentation. I had to put up ideas and think about what will we do during our meetings. This was very challenging for me but I also found it very pleasurable to help not only these poor animals but also IB students to pass CAS.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619460346147667968/service-29052020-today-we-had-a-presentation

    Another important planning experience I had during my creation of HelpMate platform. As we had to organize everything from scratch it was very hard to accomplish. Nevertheless, after a month or so, everything was done, and further organization matters had to be implemented.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619459914914512896/service-05052020-today-i-had-another-class-with

    EVIDENCE OF LO4:

    I improved by teamwork skills during creation off HelpMate. This is when I had to work hard with my friends to create something totally new in order to help children during the pandemic of COVID-19.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619456335189262336/service-me-and-my-friends-established-the-non

    EVIDENCE OF LO5:

    My perseverance is shown by my trainings. I had horse riding trainings two times a week for a long period of time. There has to be some serious issue for me not to go to training. This was easier for me as horse back riding gives brings me a lot of happiness. 

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619460053967175680/activity-20052020-today-i-had-dressage

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/630587186519179264/activity

    EVIDENCE OF LO6:

    During my school faculty, namely Animal Rights we discussed matters far beyond just animals. We talked about all means that causes animal endangerment, such as air and water pollution or wildfires. We also discussed some current global situations, the example of that is when we watched a documentary about wildfires in Australia, which we later thoroughly discussed during the meeting. The best part of this faculty is hat everyone are so engaged and eager to work during our meetings, which makes me very happy.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/190630496000/service-20012020-today-we-watched-a-movie-about

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/188830753780/service-04052019-today-we-had-a-presentation

    EVIDENCE OF LO7:

    When talking about endangered species it very often touches the topic of ethics. Not only we discussed the problems behind this but also how to fixed these animals’ situation. We very often had discussion In the matter is it better to buy things for animal shelters or just give them money. This is when ethics came along, and why we sometimes had very heated arguments during our meetings.

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/188791423750/service-28102019-so-today-we-met-and-finally-we

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/188790845820/service-07102019-our-first-meeting-this-year-im

    EVIDENCE OF REFLECTION:

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/188791534190/activity-10102019-today-i-had-my-first-training

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/190630444300/service-13012019-today-we-watched-a-documentary

    https://melqascas.tumblr.com/post/619455406981398528/creativity-28022020-1-roast-your

    View Full
  • turtlebay-rpg
    18.02.2021 - 9 monts ago

    Name: Izabela Antonova Sokolova Sanders

    FC: Nina Dobrev

    Character gender: cis

    Character birthday: January 17th, 1994 (27)

    Birthplace: Elena, Bulgaria (Velika Tarnovo province)

    Neighborhood: Countryside

    Length of residency: Since September of 2012

    Occupation: Artist

    Song title: Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson

    Bio:

    Triggers: injury, depression

    In the horse community in Bulgaria, there was a name synonymous with influence and it was Sokolov. Anton and Nevena were two powerhouses who seemingly came together for the greater good. Anton came from a long line of English riding champions and Nevena came from a long line of successful breeders. Together, they were unstoppable. Much to their parents’ delight, the two married.
    Two years later, they welcomed a baby boy they named Yordan and Izabela followed suit three years later. Growing up, she was involved in the horse world like her parents before her and their parents before them. By the time she reached primary school, she was already jumping, and it was clear a star was on the rise. Her natural curve was nurtured and she was trained by the best money could buy. In the summer of 2012, she competed in London for the summer Olympics on the Bulgarian Equestrian Team. She earned nearly perfect scores in dressage, two gold medals and a silver medal jumping, as well as a silver medal for eventing. It appeared as though Izabela was unstoppable after medaling in almost every event she qualified for, until a heavy rain the night before had made the ground deceptively soft. The cross-country event nearly claimed her life after landing wrong from a jump and sliding down landing in the riverbank jump on the course. Izabela’s leg was pinned beneath her horse as they both came down hard. After severely breaking her leg, breaking a few ribs, and nearly drowning, her career had ended.
    Izabela fell into a deep depression after the incident that had made international news. After all, she had lost her life’s dream. Upon learning of the existence of a rehab center in the United States, Izabela moved to Turtle Bay for physical therapy. After slowly regaining the use of her leg, she was hit with the devastating news of never being able to compete again. Riding any longer than a few minutes left her in debilitating pain and shaking in fear. It was during rehab that she discovered a love of art. Painting, drawing, sculpting, all of those things eased some of the anger inside her and helped her translate the helplessness she felt. During rehab, she honed her English beyond the bare minimum of asking for directions and discussing the weather. By the time she decided to leave the center and despite the hurtful comments and struggles, she was fairly proficient in English.
    Getting a job in America with her injuries and somewhat limited language capabilities was difficult, along with applying for a visa in order to stay in the country. Eventually, she began helping her family with their breeding farm and training horses from the ground up. Her art soon took precedence, but she continued to work part-time in order to keep her citizenship current. It took a long while, but eventually, Izabela earned her green card that kept her in the country for three years.
    With her family being her family and their desires for her to focus on her equestrian career with the Olympics in mind, relationships were few and far between. Izabela never allowed herself to become attached to anyone, not when they were a potential distraction and a danger towards everything she had worked towards her entire life. Things burned hot and fast and never lasted. Boredom took over as soon as attraction began. And so went her relationship with a cowboy named Wesley. He was smart, sexy, dangerous, and exciting, yet Izabela found herself uninterested in him. Most conversations consisted of his accomplishments and complaining about his rodeo rival. It wasn’t until she went to a bar with her best friend and had an argument that she met said rival. Izabela hadn’t intended to fall in love with Christopher Sanders, yet it was a force completely beyond her control. They were married within months of meeting, much to the surprise of those closest to them, following an accident Chris suffered in the rodeo.
    Though Izabela has been in the United States for years, she still struggles. She is hyper aware of how she is perceived, due to harmful stereotypes of Eastern European women that have resulted in verbal abuse hurled her way. Even with a progressive thought process in current generations, there would always be people in the community who feel the Sokolovs didn’t belong in Turtle Bay. It has cost her jobs and opportunities, though she hasn’t told her husband such. Despite her setbacks, both past and current, she continues to thrive.

    Personality:

    Positive traits: Driven, creative, perseverant

    Negative traits: Headstrong, impulsive, argumentative

    Misc:

    Here is a moodboard!

    Here is a Pinterest board!

    Izabela Sokolova is played by Admin Sunshine

    View Full
  • wiypt-writes
    02.01.2020 - 11 monts ago

    Barking Up The Wrong Tree

     Ransom Drysdale One Shot

    Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

     Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

    Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

    A/N:  So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13​ who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13​ and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​’s  Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

    Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

    “You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

    “Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

    Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

    “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

    You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

    “He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

    “He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

    “So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

    Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

    “Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

    “Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

    “Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

    “Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

    Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

    Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.  

    All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

    The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

    It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

    You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

    Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

    "Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

    “Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

    “Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

    “Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

    “Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

    You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

    “My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

    As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

    You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

    Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

    And so did Ransom.

    He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

    It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed.  So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

    As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

    Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

    You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

    And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

    This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

    The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

    “Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

    He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

    “Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

    “We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

    “Please.”

    That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

    “How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

    He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

    “Okay.”

    You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

    “Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

    “For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

    “Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

    But it never did. And he never did.

    The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

    “You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

    “It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

    “Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

    You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

    You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

    “What?” he asked looking down.

    “Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

    “Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

    “Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

    “I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

    “That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

    “Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

    “Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

    “You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

    “Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

    The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

    You were his better half for sure.

    “Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

    “Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

    “I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

    “Is it working?” You played along.

    “Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

    “Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

    “You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

    “Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

    It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

    “Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

    “Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

    The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

    His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

    Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

    His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

    “Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

    “You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

    It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

    “Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

    “Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

    “You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

    His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

    “Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

    Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

    “I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

    “Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

    You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

    “Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

    “Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

    Jacob.

    How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

    “Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

    “I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

    He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

    “Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

    “Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

    “Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

    Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

    “You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

    “Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

    “How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

    “Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

    “He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

    Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

    “Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

    “Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

    “He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

    “I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

    Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

    “I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

    He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

    There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

    This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

    “Y/N are you ok?”

    “Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

    “I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

    “Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

    Ransom frowned “What?”

    “I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

    You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

    “Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

    Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

    Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

    Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

    Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

    “Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

    #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters
    View Full
  • wild-moonchilds-world
    23.12.2020 - 11 monts ago

    Welcome to another late night discussion with me myself and I

    I love to write but like I feel that I'm not good enough to post my work so I keep it to myself.

    But when I write I always have this gal as my main. She has stuck with me because I base her of myself.

    So meet my main gal Harper Scott

    First she loves photography

    Like absolutely adores it

    She photographs anything but mostly animals

    She likes to draw

    Spending hours on a drawing then throwing it away because of a tiny little mistake

    Green eyes

    Favourite colour is dark green

    Horses

    Horses is a big part in her life

    She owns 3 - 5

    She loves them

    She is a dressage rider

    But does jump very often

    Style

    She has a very relaxed style. High waisted jeans that goes out and big shirts.

    Often in natural colours

    She has golden brown hair

    With streaks of red

    Freckles

    So many freckles

    Small dusting her nose

    Personality

    She is fierce

    But quite shy

    Confident

    But still very insecure

    She has a temper

    And often forgets about her own health

    Extremely caring

    Loves her friends

    Around 5'5 feet ( 165 cm)

    Hope u liked her

    Good night <3

    View Full
  • julieplouvier
    14.11.2020 - 1 year ago

    24 HEURES AVEC GUILLAUME MOMBOISSE

    par Julie Plouvier 05.12.2019

    À 29 ans, Guillaume Momboisse a un but précis : une deuxième étoile au guide Michelin. Dans la cuisine de son restaurant, au 7 place Saint-Sernin à Toulouse, le chef cuisinier a réussi à instaurer un état d’esprit léger qui ne dessert en rien l’excellence recherchée.

    Il est 9 heures. Le ciel est éclatant au-dessus du bâtiment aux volets bleu pastel. Seuls un menu simplement encadré et une plaque rouge synonyme d’une récompense étoilée signalent que cette jolie maison est un restaurant renommé : SEPT. Au rez-de-chaussée, il y a le salon, sobre et élégant. Les murs sont noirs, les tables blanches et le parquet de bois sombre. La décoration se contente avec justesse d’immenses toiles abstraites et de quelques plantes en pot, ici et là. Sur la droite, deux autres salons à la décoration moderne se font face. Au total, 42 couverts possibles mais le chef l’affirme : « Nous bloquons à 30 pour garder la liberté d’aménager comme nous le souhaitons ». Au sous-sol, il y a la pièce maîtresse : la cuisine. Une enceinte émet un beat sur-vitaminé. La brigade s’active en rythme. Guillaume jongle avec les téléphones : le fixe pour les réservations, le smart pour les livraisons. « C’est ça la vie de chef », avertit-il, le sourire aux lèvres.

    Que personne ne s’y trompe, derrière l’ambiance enjouée se trouve une recherche de perfection palpable. « L’objectif, c’est la deuxième étoile », annonce le chef sans détour. Des trois, c’est, selon lui, la plus difficile à atteindre. Car si la première récompense l’assiette et la troisième est synonyme de finalisation, la deuxième est celle qui amène le chef à se réinventer sans oublier ses racines. Ces récompenses, Guillaume Momboisse les assimile à des diplômes. « Un diplôme personnel et collectif », précise-t-il. Pour lequel il est déterminé à s’imposer le niveau nécessaire : il est question d’offrir une expérience qui va au-delà de l’assiette. L’expérience au SEPT est non- conventionnelle, fierté du chef. « Il n’y a pas le triptyque entrée - plat - dessert mais douze plats qui baladent le client à droite à gauche », détaille-t-il.

    Le chef s’arme d’un couteau et d’un geste assuré, ouvre la première Saint-Jacques. Tatouage de la croix occitane sur l’avant-bras et accent chantant, le Toulousain ne s’intéresse pas pour autant aux plats typiques de sa région. « La cuisine toulousaine a des richesses qu’il est prétentieux de vouloir retravailler », déclare-t-il. Le cassoulet c’est gras, c’est trop cuit, c‘est comme ça. Pour lui, la reprise des classiques est uniquement technique, comme un clin d’oeil. Le boeuf bourguignon, par exemple : la cuisson singulière est conservée mais le poisson remplace la viande. « La mer, ça m’inspire : le poisson, c’est joueur », justifie-t-il, le regard gourmand. Et l’inspiration, c’est la clé de la réussite.

    À 12 h 30, le service bat son plein. « Deux tartelettes en urgence ! » Un AirPod dans l’oreille gauche, Guillaume dirige son équipe avec aisance. Les tartelettes sont dressées puis placées dans le passe, petit ascenseur qui relie la cuisine et le salon, afin de préserver le dressage des plats et d’éviter à l’équipe en salle de descendre. « Ici, on travaille sur la confiance, décrit Guillaume, tous ceux qui sont dans la pièce, à 80%, je ne repasse pas derrière eux ».

    Tout a pour but d’offrir aux clients la meilleure expérience qui soit. « On fait le maximum, même si parfois cela ne fonctionne pas », relativise Guillaume. À 108€ le menu dégustation du soir, le coût peut être un frein. Mais c’est aussi un filtre car le client choisit le restaurant. « Un repas dans un étoilé, ça se classe parmi les plaisirs exceptionnels », conclut le chef cuisinier.

    Le service de midi se termine, l’heure est au ménage. L’efficacité est reine, la cuisine de soixante mètres carrés est propre en moins d’une heure et l’équipe prend une pause.

    17 h 30. « Je vais vous mettre un son ! » Retour énergique du chef en cuisine pour le service du soir. L’enceinte, son poussé à fond, fait trembler la surface en inox. La voix de Maître Gims résonne et Guillaume fait les choeurs, mimiques de rappeur en prime.

    Pendant que l’équipe s’attache à la préparation du service, le chef étoilé cherche un nouveau plat. « Je change la carte huit fois par an environ, explique-t-il, mais jamais tout d’un coup ». Après avoir fait cuire une tête d’ail au four, sans résultat satisfaisant, le chef se lance dans une cuisson beurrée à la casserole. Concentré, il se penche pour humer la préparation. « Il faut essayer de retrouver le goût de ce que tu sens », analyse Guillaume. Il découpe le coeur de l’ail pour le hacher finement avec de la truffe blanche. Dubitatif, il propose une cuillère pleine à Sylvain, le sous-chef. « Ça manque de puissance », apprécie ce dernier. Haussement d’épaules en signe d’acquiescement. Nouvel essai : Guillaume mélange dans une casserole de la crème et de l’ail pelé pour en faire une purée. « Pour trouver un nouveau plat, je pars d’un ingrédient que j’ai envie de travailler et je tourne autour. Mais pas plus de quelques semaines, je n’ai pas beaucoup de patience », développe le chef. Il faut que ça aille vite et bien.

    Les premiers clients arrivent vers 20 heures. Au détour d’une préparation aillée, Guillaume Momboisse lance : « On fait le même service qu’hier soir, un beau service ! » L’équipe acquiesce, motivée. Les bruits se mélangent : les ustensiles s’entrechoquent, les discussions s’animent, les consignes fusent. L’odeur du poisson qui cuit envahit la cuisine. Chacun est concentré sur sa tâche, attentif au moindre plat. Tout fonctionne comme une machine bien huilée lorsqu’au bout de quelques heures, la gelée qui recouvre le haut des baozi - petit pain japonais - ne tient plus. Il en faut plus pour déstabiliser l’équipe : elle est immédiatement remplacée par des graines de chia saupoudrées sur un beurre travaillé. « Il n’y a pas de problèmes, que des solutions », conclut Emily, la pâtissière. Les plats s’enchaînent, sans précipitation mais avec précision : après le bar posé sur une émulsion de lentilles brunes vient le pigeon rôti et glacé dans son jus accompagné d’une glace amande. Au total, deux amuse- bouches, huit plats salés et trois plats sucrés se succèdent dans une cadence rythmée par les indications d’Océane, cheffe de salle.

    Le service se termine vers 23 heures. La cuisine est propre rapidement. L’enceinte est silencieuse, dans l’attente des sons de demain. Et demain encore, Guillaume Momboisse s’imposera le niveau qu’il faut pour aller chercher cette deuxième étoile.

    View Full