I carry an art journal around me and sketch portraits of beautiful people and places. I don’t mind if it doesn’t turn out as well as I expected because it’s all just for fun and practice. I drink coffee and sit on the rooftops overlooking Paris and I paint everything I see. Everything is documented in my journals. Every tiny sketch and quick doodle counts. Even a fleeting stranger can end up in my book of memories. I slowly get better and better with every drawing and as I flip through my journal I can see the progress. I never stop drawing and I treasure my journal forever.

Watch on

Count Fleet (March 24, 1940 - December 3, 1973)  was a thoroughbred racehorse and Triple Crown champion in 1943. He was born and died at Stoner Creek Stud farm in Paris, Kentucky, United States.

On June 1, 1942, when the world was locked in the deadly conflict of WWII, a 2-year-old brown son of Kentucky Derby winner Reigh Count stepped onto the track at Belmont Park. The colt, an ornery youngster, was named Count Fleet. Unhappy with the horse’s bad manners, owner John D. Hertz, a former sports writer and the founder of both the Yellow Cab Company and the rental car company that bore his name, had tried unsuccessfully to sell him.

By the end of the year, Hertz was glad he had not parted with Count Fleet, who won 10 of his 15 starts as a 2-year-old, including a record-setting victory in the Champagne and a 30-length romp in the Walden Stakes at Pimlico. He was already being hailed as the successor to Man o’ War. His 3-year-old campaign would be as brief as it was memorable. He brushed aside seven rivals in the Wood Memorial, winning by 3½ lengths, and by the time he arrived in Louisville via train he was the 2-5 choice over nine in the wartime “Streetcar Derby,” so called because of wartime restrictions on gas and oil.

When the gates sprang open, Count Fleet was on top, and he went wire-to-wire for a three-length victory over Blue Swords. A week later, in Baltimore, it was the same story, only the Preakness margin was eight lengths. In the Belmont Stakes, he galloped home 25 lengths in front, a record which stood until Secretariat’s 31- length victory thirty years later. That evening, it was discovered that Count Fleet had bowed a tendon. He never raced again. Retired in the fall, Count Fleet sired progenies, including the 1951 Horse of the Year Counterpoint and 1951 Kentucky Derby winner Count Turf, which completed the first “triple sire” in Derby history as the grandson and son of Derby winners.

makeshift chemistry. (m)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut + College!Yoongi

Word Count: 6,740 

Description: Fleeting lust was all you’d ever known, nothing serious or long lasting, just a temporary fix to satisfy your needs. That is until you meet Min Yoongi who is determined to put an end to your binge of makeshift relationships.

Makeshift: to be temporary; sufficient for the time being

Originally posted by chan-lay

“What do you mean you don’t wanna see me anymore!?”

He was staring at you from across the table, a shocked look covering his face, like you’d just told him the world was going to end.

“It means I don’t want to see you anymore…” You say it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, which leaves him baffled.

“How could you do this so suddenly like—”

You would let him finish, but honestly you knew where he was heading with this, and you just wanted to cut his dramatics short.

“Listen Minjae, we went out on one date, and hooked up right after, and if I’m being honest I never expected to see you again after that, but then out of nowhere you corner me while I was just trying to enjoy a simple cup of coffee before class, talking about how I haven’t answered your texts. This was just something to satisfy both of our needs, but I guess you wanted something more, and I’m sorry I didn’t know that.”

You stood up from your seat, watching his face morph into a look of pity. You grabbed your coffee, and stopped next to his chair, where you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I promise one day you’ll find someone who appreciates your sweet loving making techniques a lot more than I did.”

You give him a gentle squeeze before walking away, as you left him to soak in the backhanded compliment you’d just given him. His soft and sweet approach to having sex just didn’t do it for you, and even if it had, it was still always just going to be temporary; because that’s what all your relationships ever were.

A simple lust-filled fix, that’s all you ever wanted. There didn’t have to be strings, or commitment involved, not to say that you were opposed to that sort of thing, it’s just that no one’s ever been able to keep your interest for very long. It always started out nice sure, but then after the second or third time of being with the person you’re kind of just… over it. You knew how awful that sounded, but it was just how you were when it came to relationships.

It was all just makeshift chemistry in your mind.

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Trouble- Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian Andor/OC

Prompt: Jealous/Overprotective Cassian with fluff ending

Warnings: None that I can think of other than the fact that this fic is a monster lol SO LONG

A/N: This took my DAYS so I really hope it turned out alright <3 I did a lot of research, but I also made up a lot of things so if any of it’s wrong, you’ll just have to suspend your disbelief and find it in your hearts to forgive me lol thank you for reading and hope you like it! xD

“Cassian has asked me to inform you that we will be leaving for Kafrene shortly.”

I placed my hands on my hips, raising both eyebrows. K2 stared back, although it was impossible to tell the expression on his face considering he was a robot. Usually I had to wait for him to open his mouth to pinpoint what kind of mood he was in.

“What? He couldn’t drag himself back here and tell me himself?” I asked, turning and heading back into my room to grab my jacket from the bed. “Didn’t take you for an errand boy, K2!” I called over my shoulder.

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The wondrous universe of Warhammer 40k: A beginner’s summary of races

I’ll try to be short, it’s only an introduction. Every race will have its own, big post. 

THE IMPERIUM: Once upon a time, there was the Emperor, the mightiest man ever, who united mankind and lead it to conquer a great slice of galaxy. Too bad his favourite son Horus, tainted by the Ruinous Powers (or Chaos Gods, see below), fucked everything up with his betrayal and almost killed him. Since then he is in a 10k years coma within the Golden Throne, guiding mankind with his psychic might while his body stands on the brink of death. Now the Imperium is a xenophobic, warlike and close-minded gargantuan empire, but in times like these, you can’t afford to be nice. Everything non-human is xenos to be exterminated, and everyone speaking against the Imperium is a heretic to be purged. Thus, the Imperium is costantly at war with someone (literally), deploying all its military might, being the super-badass Space Marines or the disposable and uncountable balls-of-steel Imperial Guard. It’s a matter of survival in this unforgiving universe.

CHAOS: The Warp, an infinite dimension of psychic power, is home to the Chaos gods, and therefore a place of absolute madness, perversion and malice. Said gods, shaped and fueled by nightmares, negative emotions and perversions of the living, costantly plot and act to make the galaxy look like their own realm by making their worshippers kill without reason, desecrate anything and indulge in any kind of wicked shit. Those men (mainly Space Marines) who followed Horus’ betrayal in the sign of Chaos now make up the Traitor Legions, and live in the Eye Of Terror, a kind of enormous portal to the Warp. Those guys are the worse enemies of the Imperium and boast some strong powers received by Chaos itself, at the price of deformities, body alterations, plagues, diseases and stuff you could expect to receive along evil powers. And lots of spikes. 

ELDAR: One of the most ancient races in the galaxy (think space elves, ok?), had a big empire too, back in the day. But their being very powerful in the psychic field and advanced in technology made them lazy at first, and degenerate later. Not having work or war to spend the time with, they started to indulge first in philosophy and otium, then in perverted parties and feasts, becoming more and more hedonistic. Their perversion was so great it slowly fueled a nascent entity in the Warp, until with a colossal bellow, the fabric of reality was torn apart and a new Chaos God, Slaneesh, was born. He/She consumed all the Eldar souls he/she could find, almost wiping them out of the universe. Being created by their desires, still Slaanesh claims every Eldar soul when one of them dies (unless it’s stored in a Soul Stone). Some survivors became much wiser, but some others couldn’t give up the parties (Dark Eldar). 

DARK ELDAR: They are the evil counterpart of the surviving Eldar. They found shelter in the Webway (another dimension used for faster-than-light travel) in the city of Comorragh, but still Slaanesh claims their souls and asses, slowly draining them into the Warp. While becoming more and more evil and perverted, they found out the curse could be avoided making others suffer in their place. Basically they keep themselves alive by feasting on misery and suffering of other intelligent beings, more suffering the better. To this end, they became pirates and slavers all over the universe, capturing everyone they could find to bring them back to Comorragh as slaves and have some atrocious fun. 

ORKS: Imagine Orcs, in space. The most warlike of all races, and almost the most numerous (along with humans, second only to Tyranids). Despite most of them being stupid as a brick, they are proficient in all kinds of technology because of their genetic heritage. Their success comes from their reproduction system, which is similar to a fungus (every Ork leaves spores around and, given time, a fully formated Ork will be generated. Therefore, their numbers are always very big) and their redundancy of vital organs, which makes them HARD to kill. They can make vehicles and weapons from scrap, and this stuff works because THEY BELIEVE IT. They have no psychic presence, but rather a collective mind-field. They think red vehicles go faster, SO THEY DO. Sometimes a charismatic leader unites a good number of tribes to raid/conquer/destroy some part of universe, and a WAAAGH! is born. Fortunately, a WAAAGH! never brought all Orks under one banner, or it would be the end of all other races. 

NECRONS: They are a race of sentient, yet emotionless, robots. Once properly living, they gave up flesh and soul in order to achieve immortality and defeat their ancient enemies, the Old Ones. After the War in Heaven, their pride made them turn against the same divine entities, the C’tan, they used to worship and which gave them their immortal bodies. They won, but the price was so high they understood they could not face the rising Eldar empire, former allies to the Old Ones and their worst enemy, so they went on a 60 million years long stasis in hundreds of tomb worlds. The Eldar empire fell to its own hand, and now the Necrons are slowly waking, world after world, ready to start their conquest anew. They are very much inspired by ancient egyptian culture and its emphasis on death, and in combat their warriors can rise again after being slain, while also being very hard to kill in the first place. Remember T-800 from Terminator? The Immortals are pretty much that tough. 

TAU: The Tau are the youngest race, sporting an amazing technology rush, going from the discover of wheel to space travel in less than 5.000 years. In this universe, they are some kind of “good guys”, meaning they try to use diplomacy and life in their domain is quite good. They always ask their would-be enemies (in the case of intelligent beings like humans or Eldar) if they want to join the “greater good”, their chief philosophy. Of course this is Warhammer 40k, so if they don’t, the Tau deploy their advanced military might, go guns blazing and, if they win, they might use re-educational camps much like soviet Russia did to have people change their minds. This, and their Greater Good concept, earned them the humorous title of Space Commies.

TYRANIDS: They come from the cold void outside the galaxy. They only care about one thing: EAT. The most vicious of all races, they are the stuff of nightmares. They look like insectoid life forms, costantly evolving and becoming more and more lethal. When they reach a planet, they consume everything. Only a ball of barren rock remains when the swarm departs. They travel the galaxy in giant Hive Fleets, counting each billions of them, along with Hive Ships, massive living ships which use biomass to generate more Tyranids. Fortunately, they are incapable of faster-than-light travel (except for short routes when approaching a planet), or else they would have already consumed all galaxy. The only races who can really survive them are the Orks, thanks to their fast reproduction and vast numbers, and the Necrons, since living metal is not food for them. 

Thanks for reading! Your feedback is welcome, as well as preferences about next Warhammer post! 

Do you feel like your galaxy could be a safer place for all? Has the vastness of space always been calling out to you? Then the Altean Space Forces are exactly what you’ve been looking for.

Combining the prowess of highly trained pilots and altean, cutting-edge interactive technology, the A.S.F. counts its fleets amongst the most powerful fleets of the universe, proudly protecting Altea’s interstellar space and frequently assisting friendly neighbor planet systems.

Join A.S.F. today and you too can reach for the stars!

Warning: Available positions may be limited | No species restrictions | Applications from underage candidates will not be accepted | What the quiznak, just stop applying you little -

anonymous asked:

The question is do you think they will last? 😂

It doesn’t matter if they don’t last long. Sometimes, the best things in life are fleeting. What counts is the intensity of the experience.

Like an orgasm.


(Although, consider this, if they really are dating, they’re already defying all that shit thrown at them – insults and disapproval and bad press… and Lauren is still sitting on his lap) 💁🏻

Beautiful (KuroTsuki) Ficlet

AN: I keep finding things in my stacks of writing! At least I don’t think I’ve posted this yet...
Some Kuroo x Tsukki for the soul.

The thing about Tsukishima Kei was that he didn’t know how striking he was.

It was in the rise of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw, the soft bend of his lips as he pressed them together in thought. His eyes, hidden behind glass and thick plastic frames, flashed with something bold, calculating, and cold enough to chase a chill down Kuroo’s spine.

He received any form of compliments with a grimace and a sneer, always disbelieving and never accepting, insisting that one must have ulterior motives in order to have noticed anything positive about him. However, there was always a split-second moment when his eyes would widen a faction, his expression momentarily unguarded as kind words hit him like an open-palmed slap. His cheeks would colour like he had been hit and his breath would catch. Then, in a blink, it would dissolve back into his frosty demeanour.

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Beauty and the Beast drabble — Gibson Girl

Note : This (slightly sensual) drabble is inspired by this drawing of Belle in « Gibson style » by @taijavigilia. Browse her pretty gallery, even if the concept of the Gibson appeared much later than the BatB timeline (around 1890), it pushed me to write. This Drabble is obviously dedicated to the work quoted above.

When he was a handsome and selfish young prince, he has had his fair share of flesh to appease his carnal appetite — female and male both held the same appeal to him. The distinctive attributes weren’t important, only counted the fleeting pleasure he could take from his partners, and sometimes the momentary one he could bestow on them in return.

Adam, still feeling like a newlywed despite being an expectant father, has been transfigured by the curse in more ways than one. He is proud to be a one woman’s man, now. As it is, it’s wonderful enough to be a man altogether, and it’s all thanks to his Belle.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to push the limits of said humanity, and both revel in the random hints of less than gentlemanly behavior that subsist within him after almost a decade of being a beast.

Taking right now, the impish spark lightening up her lovely face was plain enough to see and her alluring pose did nothing to appease him either. She enticingly hovered on a closed book on his writing desk, and in case it wasn’t enough to catch his interest, she somehow chose to don her famous yellow gown.

Only her impending motherhood made the difference in her silhouette delightfully obvious. The garment cut rightly her new form, underlining its voluptuousness. Her usual hairdo was  falling in waterfall of curls as her hair was lush and shinier, but it didn’t hide her slender neck.

He must have either whined or growled because suddenly all seriousness was forgotten when she giggled, and called him to her playfully.

Adam loved the sight of his wife so much he could hardly bear it, so he was seriously frightened by the perspective of losing his sanity once he got to witness her doting on their infant child.

I always said I wanted the 12th Triple Crown winner to have a good name. Not something like Frac Daddy or Bellamy Road.

American Pharoah. He’s our American hero, and a Pharaoh was considered a god on Earth.

The misspelling doesn’t bother me. This is a good name. This is worthy of following names such as Sir Barton. Gallant Fox. Omaha. War Admiral. Whirlaway. Count Fleet. Assault. Citation. Secretariat. Seattle Slew. Affirmed.

American Pharoah.


Triple Crown champion Count Fleet was always known to be an enthusiastic stud who never really outgrew his love for the ladies. This preoccupation sometimes got him into trouble, such as in the 1942 Belmont Futurity

Coming off a three-race win streak, the Count was favored for the Futurity. His main competition was reckoned to be Occupation, a crack colt who had beaten the Count in the Washington Park Futurity a month prior. And while Occupation was certainly a formidable opponent, the real star of the show (at least from Count Fleet’s perspective) turned out to be a finely-shaped filly. Askmenow, a daughter of champion juvenile colt Menow, was on her way to her own championship title in 1942. She had beaten other fillies in the Selima Stakes, and now looked to conquer colts as well.

The story of the race is best told by jockey Johnny Longden, who rode the Count:

“He broke alongside Askmenow, the Hal Price Headley filly. I called on the Count for speed, but he was not interested. He was flirting with a glamour girl. He kept alongside Askmenow, nose and nose, and nothing interested him except to remain in her companionship. If she spurted, the Count would spurt with her; if she slowed stride, so did he. I tried everything that was possible to end her fascination and pull away from her - but nothing helped.”

Askmenow was apparently in season, and Count Fleet was highly distracted. He refused to move away from her the entire race, pinning her to the inside rail and costing them both good chances at winning. As it was, Occupation had the lead to himself and went wire to wire. Askmenow managed to budge past the Count long enough to claim second, and Count Fleet finished third for the only time in his career. He hardly seemed to care about his disappointing finish, however:

“After we had crossed the finish line, Askmenow was slow checking down. So the Count wouldn’t check down either. When she finally began easing up, the Count eased with her. But we were almost a half mile beyond the finish line before I could end the Count’s flirtatious mood, steer him away from Askmenow, and head him back toward the paddock.”

anonymous asked:

Do you know if Beyer has expounded more on Count Fleet's potential 150+ speed rated races?

Not to my knowledge, no

Beyer (who is not always a very dependable source) has made references to some of Count Fleet’s races being 150+ “by some calculations”. I cannot, however, find anything where he goes into more detail about which calculations, the exact numbers, or even which races he was referring to. The problem with assigning Beyers to historical races is the lack of exact details (no electric timers, winning margins waffle about, and the exact track condition is not usually known). Beyer himself has called it “an exercise in futility”.

For those curious, a 150+ Beyer Speed Figure is basically unheard of. The highest speed figure ever given out officially was 132, to the fantastic sprinter Groovy in 1987. Beyer has estimated that Secretariat’s Belmont would have earned a 139, so a 150 is pretty damn good 

Just like the Count ;)