long over short

Been very busy with school work, so I haven’t had much time to update the blog, but I plan on coming back to running tomorrow.

Long story short, over the weekend I sprained my wrist, hurt my head pretty bad, and hurt my metatarsal too, so I really didn’t feel like running the past few days.

But I’m all set to run tomorrow morning and I’m very excited for the races I’ve got coming up!

inimitablebiscuit  asked:

Erm Flintwood please if you're still doing 150. * Winning smile *

pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood

setting: modern, non-magical, soulmates-at-first-touch au

word count: 1394


Marcus punches his soulmate in the face the first time they meet.

Wait.

No.  

It’s worse than that.

Marcus punches his soulmate in the face the first time they meet, the flats of his knuckles crunching against the guy’s jaw, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark and hurt—and then there’s a strange fluttering sensation erupting in the pit of Marcus’s stomach, a comforting, calming warmth suffusing the blood in his veins and the marrow in his bones and it’s exactly like how they’d described it in Health class, the awareness—the connection—slotting into place so seamlessly that he’s astonished he’d never noticed something missing before now.  

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus blurts out. “Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Marcus’s soulmate—who’s tall and lean and has the prettiest brown eyes, what the shit—is just sprawled out on the dirty arena floor, blinking and blinking and prodding gingerly at the bruise that’s already beginning to blossom—

“No,” the guy says firmly. “This isn’t happening.”

“Fuck you,” Marcus immediately snaps. “I rejected you first.”

The guy snorts, kind of irritatingly sarcastic, before grimacing. His emotions, so far as Marcus can tell, are all over the place; shock and dismay and frustration and—very, very deeply—a flickering, almost unwilling tremor of interest.  

“It wouldn’t work, anyway,” the guy goes on, more loudly. “You have terrible opinions about hockey.”

“Fuck you,” Marcus snaps again. “You’re the one in the shitty jersey.”

“He’s won three Cups.”

“Yeah, and he was a fucking healthy scratch for two of them,” Marcus retorts. “Try again.”

“Hockey is a team sport,” the guy says hotly. “It isn't—it isn’t about individual accomplishments.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever,” he drawls, “but your shitty jersey is still shitty.”

The guy’s mouth falls open, and Marcus can feel the sour note of his indignation—the jagged spike of his outrage—as clearly as if it were his own. “Jesus fucking Christ,” the guy sputters, shaking his head like he’s got a nervous tic. “What are you so—what are you so angry about?”

Marcus raises his eyebrows. “Um,” he says slowly, because, really, what the shit, “I’m not angry. I’m confused.”

“No.” The guy frowns. “You’re definitely angry. I feel it, like—” He gestures vaguely to his chest and upper abdomen. “Right there. Like heartburn.”

Marcus’s nostrils flare, and he scratches viciously at the side of his neck to distract himself from the fact that this complete fucking stranger with boy band hair and, and Bambi eyes is apparently better at deciphering Marcus’s emotions than Marcus is.  

“Oh, hell,” the guy sighs, “now you're—embarrassed, don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to—hey, come on, where are you—where are you going? You can’t just—hey! Come back!”

Marcus does not come back.

And the ensuing wave of regret that pulses through Marcus’s sternum is lukewarm and salty and depressingly difficult to pinpoint the origins of.

It’s not his, he thinks stubbornly.

Probably.


Marcus lasts two and a half days before the persistent invisible tugging at his gut becomes too annoying to bear.

He follows it.

He follows it to a bench in Riverside Park that’s near where the gross little fish and chips stand is, and the scent of old frying oil undercut by whatever the fuck is currently decomposing in the Hudson is—less nauseating than it arguably fucking should be, seriously, what the shit.

But—

His soulmate, his soulmate, is sitting with his legs spread obnoxiously wide, wrists crossed and hands dangling in his lap, squinting intently up at the clouds like he’s waiting for them to tell him what to do next. It’s endearing. Maybe. Marcus’s stomach is in knots—a tangled mess of dread and unease and, abruptly, relief.

“Oh,” the guy says, quirking his lips into something that Marcus chooses to generously describe as a smile. The bruise on the guy’s jaw is a lurid, chalky looking violet, partially obscured by the auburn of his stubble. “You found me.”

“Of course I fucking found you,” Marcus says, dropping down next to him. Their knees brush, just for a moment, and it’s like—lightning, bright and fierce and sizzling, coiling around the base of his spine. “There’s been this—this buzzing, in the back of my head—”

“Yeah,” the guy interjects glumly. “I know. I would've—if you hadn’t. I would’ve tried to find you.” He pauses. “I missed you, I guess, which is—weird.”

Marcus scowls down at the sidewalk. There’s a crack in the cement, and it’s dirty, gritty with loose gravel around the edges, splintering off into a dozen hairline fractures before disappearing into the grass. He can feel his own surprise at the guy’s admission, and it’s so—uncomfortable, knowing that there’s nothing he can hide behind. Making himself smaller, holding himself still; they’re not antidotes for anything, not anymore, and this guy—his soulmate—he’s got a rabbit-fast heartbeat and an intimidatingly focused way of feeling things. Marcus wonders how he’s supposed to get used to that.  

“I’m Marcus,” he eventually offers, voice emerging gruffer than he’d have liked. “My name, I mean. It's—Marcus.”

The guy turns, slightly, to look over at Marcus. “Oliver. I’m Oliver.” He hesitates before he goes on, sounding nonplussed, “I still can’t believe you fucking hit me. Over a jersey.”

Marcus huffs. “It’s a really shitty jersey.”

Oliver grins, short and sweet and self-deprecating, before nudging at Marcus’s ribs with the point of his elbow. “I’ve, uh. I’ve been told I’ve got kind of a…bad habit of, of taking things too seriously.” His mouth twists, and the stabbing ache of some long-ago insult, or argument; it lances through the pads of Marcus’s fingers, stinging and sharp. “Obsessive. That’s what—I dunno. That’s what I’ve been told. I can be…obsessive. About—whatever.”

“Obsessive,” Marcus repeats, shaking out his hand. “That’s your—one big fault. Enthusiasm.”

Oliver shrugs, easy and casual, like it doesn’t matter, like Marcus can’t literally feel the crippling uncertainty—the tension, swampy and thick—weighing down his limbs. “Enthusiasm is…too nice of a word for it, I think.”

“Bullshit,” Marcus hears himself say, with absolutely zero fucking direction from his brain, or his conscience, or his admittedly flimsy sense of self-preservation. “Enthusiasm is the perfect fucking word for it.”

Oliver startles, slightly, eyes widening a fraction. There’s a coolly refreshing burst of—happiness, maybe; gratitude, definitely—coating the back of Marcus’s tongue. Citrus. Summer. Chlorine and coconut. It’s fucking nice.

“Oh. Um. Okay,” Oliver says, haltingly. “Thanks.”

A tentative silence descends between them on the bench. Marcus drums his fingers against the inseam of his jeans, jiggling his foot and glaring at a rotting spear of tree bark and swallowing around a metallic-tasting lump in his throat that he instinctively wants to label curiosity.  

“Sorry,” Marcus grunts, slouching forward. “About the—hitting you. I just—sorry. I was angry. I get angry.”

Oliver stares at him, bottom lip clutched between his teeth, and there’s a swirl of something taking root in his lungs, something chewy and rich, like caramel, so that every breath he takes in is like burnt brown sugar crystallizing against the roof of his mouth, but then there’s more, too, a champagne bubble pop of amusement, and—

“It’s alright,” Oliver says wryly. “I heard I was wearing a pretty shitty jersey.”

Marcus snorts, and then groans, and then laughs, almost despite himself, before confessing, as quietly as he can manage—  

“Yeah, I’m…not really sorry, anyway.”


more quick doodles since i really shouldn’t be drawing right now;; this time the characters from carry on! just getting a feel on their designs cause i wanna draw them for realsies sometime.

8

Hannigram S4 That moment when you’ve been happily married (for 2 years) to a man who knows how to make you shut up

6
2

Rei + being worried about Nagisa (◕‿◕✿)

You guys wanna know something funny? Years ago I was really into Kuroshitsuji, and sebaciel was a big thing, not something I shipped personally, but I remember seeing tons of hate for it, and this “ereri” ship was always mentioned alongside it. I didn’t know what the fuck it was, I refused to watch the show after a friend told me everyone just dies lol. But I saw “ereri” all the damn time, always being hated on and I was like wow that’s rough. Who’d have known a few years later I’d finally watch the damn show, read the manga and start shipping the hell out of it? Wild.

Masterlist

All my posts are gender-neutral unless specified otherwise

Reactions:

1. EXO react to Xiumin’s lil’ strip show

2. EXO react to you waking them with kisses

3. EXO react to you laughing when their voice cracks

4. EXO react to being your first kiss

5. EXO react to you giving them a private dance *NSFW* (fem-ish)

6. EXO react to you having a terrible cold/migraine

7. EXO react to thinking another member is a mermaid

8. EXO react to you getting caught up in Beagle Line pranks

9. EXO react to you throwing a pillow at them

10. EXO react to you not answering the phone because you’re watching anime

11. EXO react to you catching them crying and they lie about why

12. EXO react to discovering your love for Disney

13. EXO react to you (an idol) struggling to act happy

14. EXO react to you sassing your best friend’s cheater boyfriend

15. EXO react to you lifting your shirt in your sleep

16. EXO react to you pulling a muscle in your back

17. EXO react to you moaning when they play with your hair

18. EXO react to you lifting their shirt in your sleep

19. EXO react to you having nyctophobia

20. EXO react to a member walking in on sex

21. EXO react to their kid hitting them in the nuts

22. EXO react to you listening to rap/rock music

23. EXO react to coming home to you asleep in lingerie

24. EXO react to being submissive *NSFW*

Scenarios ‘n Drabbles:

Bad Day? - Xiumin angst

It Doesn’t Matter - D.O angst

Supply Closet - Chanbaek smut drabble *NSFW*

Cute Butt - Chanyeol fluff drabble

I am the Lucky One? - Chanbaek angst, smut, Lucky OneAU *NSFW*

Proposal - Chen fluff

Monster - Baekhyun angst, fluff

Happy Birthday - Xiuchen fluff drabble

Not So Bad - Tao smut *NSFW*

Music Box - Chanhun fluff drabble

Fake Snaps:

Your best friend Baekhyun

Your best friend Tao

Your best friend Luhan

Your best friend Sehun

Your boyfriend Chen (personalised)

Your boyfriend Sehun

Your boyfriend D.O

EXO-M reminding you to take medicine

EXO-K reminding you to take medicine

Fake Texts:

Best friend Yixing & Needy Xiumin *NSFW*ish

Tao texts *NSFW*ish

EXO M Halloween texts

MTLs:

MTL to prefer long hair over short hair

MTL to want a deep friendship before a romantic relationship

MTL to date a foreign singer

MTL to date a short person

MTL to like you riding them *NSFW*

MTL to have an international relationship

MTL to prefer dogs over cats

MTL to have a daddy kink *NSFW*

MTL to have an interracial relationship

MTL to be overwhlemed by cuteness when you hold your newborn baby

MTL to prefer to cute lingerie *NSFW* ish

MTL to be romantic

MTL to read a book to impress you

MTL to have a big dick *NSFW* ish

Headcanons:

Tao as your best friend

Moodboards:

Xiuchen

Spams:

Xiumin spam

Luhan spam

Other:

Cuddling with EXO (female ver.)

Cuddling with EXO (male ver.)

Favourite hair colours

How EXO would seduce you

Happy Birthday Xiumin!

another post about this because I don’t know how to shut up

Let’s look closer at Sorin’s system of morality. Because he certainly has one. What he has is very close to an extreme utilitarian morality. He determines whether an action is right or wrong solely based on the consequences of that action, and prioritises long-term consequences over short-term ones. He also seems to care about choosing the result that brings the most long-term good, accepting whatever short-term or long-term losses he deems necessary.

There is one important aspect however, that separates his morality from what a utilitarian purist would follow. Sorin is deeply egoistical. At the base of all his calculations of sacrifice for the greater good is a value assignment, where he himself holds more value than any other person, and the things that are close to him and matter to him hold more value than other things. Essentially, this means that he is the most important person, Innistrad is the most important plane, and anything or anyone that keeps him and/or Innistrad safe is the top priority.

Sorin’s choice to break his promise to Nahiri was one where he determined the consequences of each action. By protecting Innistrad with his wards – Avacyn and the Helvault – he broke his promise of being available in case of emergency. And when he refused to help Nahiri, and instead sealed her in the Helvault, he did so because it would eliminate any danger from her caused by him not keeping his promise of helping with the eldrazi. In Sorin’s mind this was a simple moral choice. He had the choice between keeping Innistrad safe and sacrificing Zendikar, or attempting to save Zendikar while risking Innistrad. To Sorin, the good that matters (the one of Innistrad and himself) was already secured, and therefore, there was no need for him to take further action. He had already arrived at his goal. Any further action would be wasted resources at best, and a horrible moral mistake at worst.

Why a horrible moral mistake though? Because Sorin sees the protection and balance of Innistrad as his primary goal. Risking Innistrad is morally wrong, and most sacrifices to avoid risking it are acceptable.

This is why Nahiri’s actions were what they were. She was destroying the entire premise of Sorin’s cold calculations of morality. Sorin sacrificed Zendikar to preserve Innistrad’s safety because he thought it the only right thing to do. But the consequence of sacrificing Zendikar was the loss of Innistrad’s safety, because Nahiri made it so. The premise of Sorin’s choice was that sacrificing other planes would allow him to keep Innistrad safe, but Nahiri turned that around and made it so that specifically BECAUSE he had sacrificed other worlds, Innistrad would suffer the same fate. Sorin leans himself on his self-centred morality so he has cause to always see himself as the greater man. He believes that as long as he has principles and absolute rules of conduct, he is always better than those that don’t have those same principles. Nahiri ultimately showed him that none of the options, not even the one he chose, were the right one, and made him responsible for the destruction of what he considered the most valuable of all worlds. She wasn’t just inflicting pain on Sorin, she was tearing down his whole system of morality.

I want love. That corny, honey moon stage where you can’t get enough from each other. Where texting 24/7 is allowed but having space is okay too.

I want that comfy love where I am able to wear my hair up on the second date because we are just going to your place to watch movies and eat the dinner you made. I want that comfy love where I’m comfy to go to the gym with you and work out hardcore and then go back to your place and shower off the sweat or maybe even fuck and sweat some more.

I want that goofy love where you kiss my stomach and act like I’m a child. Or where you pick me up and tickle the shit out of me to just hear my giggle / laugh.

Let’s just love each other so dearly and be the complete idiots that we are. Let’s argue but make up. Let’s travel together. Make unforgettable memories. Write our own story that we could share to the world someday.

*lives on the malec tag even though i don’t watch shadowhunters because i dont have an otp and i crave long term romance*

{ I think one of the things I’ve seen a couple times come up when it comes to regards to Toy Story of Terror is that, while people ( myself included ) are super grateful that the writers pretty accurately depicted Jessie’s anxiety and panic attacks they criticized the short for making it something that she’s overcome by the end.

I guess I never took it that way? 

Carl gave her a grounding technique as far as I am concerned. He gave her a mantra to repeat, to calm herself. This allowed her to think through enough to start digging. Once she saw that paperclip? Oh she totally knew she was no longer trapped; that she could get out. While, yes, she didn’t deal with the aftermath of coming out of a panic attack then again does she suffer adverse effects? She is a toy after all ), I saw nothing that indicated that she was “over” her anxiety. She was just given a technique to help her through it. I don’t call that “getting over” or that she’s “fixed”.

I mean that’s like saying that Calhoun in Wreck it Ralph, who suffers from PTSD, was suddenly “over” her illness after marrying Fix It Felix because we didn’t see more flashbacks. That’s just silly. As far as I’m concerned the same principle applies here.

And I don’t know, maybe I’m naive enough to believe that Pixar would know better? I mean we can see what happens during Toy Story 4. Who knows maybe they’ll hint at it again there and it’ll squash this train of thought for sure. { I hope so, but seeing as the movie is going to focused on Woody, I don’t know. I kind of doubt it. }

I highly encourage anyone with the Bluray to watch Toy Story of Terror with commentary. Long story short, what they attempted to do during the film was bring Jessie back to her normal confident self. After she first gets trapped in the toolbox and through a good portion of the short you see that she withdraws. She lets all of the other toys take charge. She hangs back. She’s lost her confidence. Even after losing all of her friends, she lets Combat Carl take charge. Even when they are in the case she lets the others take charge. It’s not until she’s the only one who can save all of them that she’s forced into that role again - and it’s done so very begrudgingly.

However, after Carl gives her the mantra, “Jessie never gives up; Jessie finds a way”, you start seeing that old spark come back to her ( Carl even warns her to quiet down so they don’t get caught - that’s my loud and proud cowgirl! And you notice up until that point her voice is very soft, quiet. So not like Jessie!  

If anything, this movie, to me, showed that people who suffer these types of things ( myself included ) can still be, well, themselves. Yes that anxiety is part of us, but it doesn’t define us. Jessie gets back to her old self and, while yes she overcomes her anxiety in that one moment, it’s not gone. Still, though, what I took from this short is that you can still do great things. Jessie save all of her friends and toys she’d never met despite her illness. 

    You aren’t your illness. You are you. And you can do great things.

That’s what I love about this short. It’s why I’ve watched it dozens of times. It’s why I actually had tears in my eyes the first time I saw it. And maybe I took what I wanted to take out of it. Maybe the writers did just want to wrap up that arc with Jessie and she “got over it” but I have more faith in them than that. 

And also I cannot say enough for the other toys and how they accept that part of her. It’s not looked down on or ridiculed or even cause for pity. That’s just Jessie. They rally to get her out as quickly as they can. They comfort her and let her know that everything will be okay. Even Mr. Potato Head ( who is kind of a dick let’s be real ) is pretty chill about it. When Trixie asks what’s wrong with Jessie he just answers her straight: “She was abandoned in a box for years”. And that’s that. That’s not a flaw to them. It’s just a part of her. It’s also not all she is.

Anywho this is the stuff I sit and think about instead of working on replies. And now I need to try to go to bed. Sorry about the long post. Like I’ve said before, I have a lot of feelings about this short.  }

Commissions

So I had to dive into my savings (a mere 100$) in order to not starve/make it to my appointment 45 minutes away/etc and so yeah, that means it’s time to ask nicely for commissions. Again.

But here’s the twist.

Writing commissions are only part of the deal. You know the usual prices for those and rules and such. and if you don’t, GO RIGHT HERE.

So that’s cool. However, I’ll also offer up chibi commissions. They aren’t great. I’m still practicing, and they probably can’t be considered chibis…??

But yeah, Examples for Ya, however I’d be doing them digitally for you. These are gonna be 2$. 4$ if you want them coloured. We haggle prices for Non-Humans because as you see, my Kit Fisto isn’t that great, so, -shrugs-. Non-Humans will probably be more because it’s got a different set of difficulty. Yeah, chibis are haggable because I’m definitely unsure on that. 2$ is flatrate for lineart for it, though. That’s non-negotiable.

I’ll also do Busts. Examples: Here and Here (though really, you can go through my whole art tag to see them??)

Busts: 5$ lineart. 10$ coloured. If you have a detailed description, I will do OCs. I’ll even attempt to do furries, if that’s your cuppa. (That said, take note I said attempt. Aliens are one thing. Animals hate me.)

All payments have to be done by paypal invoice.

But yeah, if anyone’s interested, I’d appreciate it, and shoot me and email at aerefyr@gmail.com

I’ll probably do a better post later, but I have to leave soon to go to aforementioned appointment.

anonymous asked:

I just wanna see you write one where Revali accidentally kisses link, like full on almost makes out with the boy, in the middle of an argument before realizing what he just did n fucking bolts

Revali and Link don’t get along. They spend most of their time bickering, and when they’re not, they’re not speaking to each other at all. 

Keep reading

6

Happy Father’s Day ♡ May you all stay strong and healthy ♡

This is dedicated to GOT7’s fathers who are not only dads to their sons but also father figures to the other members. It’s truly heartwarming seeing them look after the whole group, after each member as their own, always showing love and care. I want to thank them for bringing such beautiful human beings into our lives who have touched so many hearts around the world and filled faces with smiles. I also want to thank JYP for treating the boys with nothing but love and care. GOT7 isn’t a just a group who happens to make music together, they’re a family.

“A father is neither an anchor to hold us back, nor a sail to take us there, but a guiding light whose love shows us the way”

Also, many of you may know that BamBam’s father had passed away when he was three. May he rest in peace. My heart goes out to BamBam and his family. I’m sure BamBam’s father would be so proud of his son just like the rest of us. I’m thankful that BamBam has such loving people in his life including GOT7 and their dads whom I have seen take such good care of him by being very caring, kind, and sweet.

And yes, Markjae. We can never forget about them. They’re the best dads in the world, duh. Coco is so lucky.
Bless.