I asked my sister to draw it It's a scene from one of my favorite Sessrin fanfic When East Meets West Chapter 3 by Tinuviel_Undomiel
Ahh! I’m in tears! I love it! Thank you!
This popped up into my Pinterest feed. Too cute not to share.
Question what would be a good gift for a eight year old girl. The people involved would be Maleficent and a eight year old Lily (this is for my story). Regina is boring and got her a book in Latin lol.
Perhaps a porcelain doll
I was so looking forward to getting my new iPad today. Apparently UPS decided a $300 item wasn’t worth double chevking the address. Yeah, they have no clue where the driver put it and apparently they don’t have cellphones so they can’t call him even though it says he “delivered” it only 20 minutes ago. Also, it hasn’t been 24 hours so I can’t file a claim, they can’t start an investigation until then, so all they can do is call the local dispatcher tomorrow and hope they can find it. So yeah, they are worthless. Right now I’m just hoping it’s in my neighborhood somewhere and that they will be nice enough to bring it to my door. Too bad UPS couldn’t do that.
Hi Lady not sure if you come here anymore but I've been thinking of starting over from scratch with my story to tame a king and decided to restart from the beginning with new ideas (one of them is Milah being alive but she's shut away in a nunnery) and one of the ideas i'm trying to come up with a is a new title because I want to make it about everyone not just Rumple and Belle. So if you have any ideas let me know. :)
Yep, I’m still here. Hmm, I’m not sure about a title. Since it’s pretty much about the various courts, maybe something along those lines?
Remembering my great-great uncle Lt. Marion Dufilho, survivor of the sinking of the Lexington, wingman to Medal of Honor recipient Edward “Butch” O’Hare, shot down at the Battle of Solomon Islands August 24, 1942.
I was watching Titanic with my family and I couldn’t help but think of you. I hope the quarantine is treating you as well as can be. Sending my love and support to you, your sister and your adorable niece.
Thank you! I’m very well. Back to work now, so I’m grateful for that. I watched Titanic a few weeks ago myself. Reminded me of how I badly need to work on A Night to Remember. This might be the push I need.
So a while back I ordered a cheap watch charger on Amazon. It was clear once it arrived that it was cheap product that did not work. My guess is someone got a hold of some Apple Watch charger parts and either took out the actual charging components or got some with out any, put a cheap magnet inside, and started selling them. I returned the item, got my money back and left a review warning people about the product.
Today the seller contacted me first offering me $20 then $30 to delete my review. Not only is it absolutely hilarious that they thought I could be bought off for $30 (not that I believed I’d ever recieve any money), but they have now left me proof of their bribe. So I updated my review to include images of the email and reported them to Amazon. Check it out.
My sister dared me to do a shot of tequila so I did! I did! You don’t dare me to nothing cause I do it! I do do it!
I’ve had three margaritas. Oh man does this feel good!!!
I finally got to meet my new niece, Charlotte! She’s such a cutie pie!
Don’t know if it’s art imitating art or it’s just my association-y brain, but when Eamonn transforms and there’s a spark of recognition with Belle, it reminds me of that line from Big Fish: “It was that night I discovered that most things you consider evil or wicked are simply lonely, and lacking in the social niceties.” I know immediately afterwards the recognition fades and he hunts her, but the reminder persists. Meant to be a compliment, hope it succeeded. I LOVE THIS FIC! 😊 🥰 😍
Thank you for the compliment! The association wasn’t intended, but thank you. ;)
There wasn’t really recognition on wolf!Eamonn’s part. From Belle’s pov there, she’s hoping he recognizes her. Maybe that split second is just the wolf getting its bearings, maybe there was an instant where the change finished and his brain finished switching over from human to wolf. (I’m going to address the consciousness thing, which won’t always stay completely separate. But for this very beginning of Eamonn’s wolfiness, yeah, he’s not in control.)
Ooh I love Big Fish, nice idea. Still can’t wait for more! @ishtarelisheba
With everything that’s going on, I forgot to put up pictures of my new niece. She was born on March 12. Here she is in the pretty Easter outfit I bought for her.
Well the virus may be keeping me home, but that doesn’t stop pervy anons from messaging me.
I hope everyone is staying safe out there. Stay well.
My big Friday night plans: get in my pj’s before 6 and watch TV. Living the dream, lol.
Just a quick message to say I hope you're okay, as I haven't seen you on my dash and I remembered that you had the flu at some point, so I hope you're well xxx
I’m much better. I’ve been busy with my new job and now I’m away visiting my sister as she is preparing for her first child. I’m still alive, I promise.
Anonymous asked:
Prompt a thon... Starbucks Series... what if Jefferson didnt get in touch with Gold in time to rescue Belle and the call he receives, instead, is from the hospital?
When his cellphone rang, Jefferson’s name flashing across the screen, he let it go to voicemail. The insufferable little git, however, seemed immune to the concept of reading into things, and kept at it, ringing over and over till he decided a direct message was needed, something along the lines of “go fuck yourself”. But the number on the phone wasn’t one he recognised, nor was it the voice on the other end of the phone, asking him if he was Nicholas Gold and if he knew an Isabelle French.
“You’re listed as her emergency contact, is this correct?”
His heart plummeted to the ground, panic blooming in the pit of his stomach and quickly travelling up his spine, leaving him breathless. He dropped into a nearby chair, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. The voice on the other side was still speaking and he needed to answer.
“Yes, I’m Nicholas Gold, Miss French’s emergency contact. What’s happened?”
The person on the other end identified themselves as a nurse at the Bellevue Hospital Centre, and told him that a patient by the name of Isabelle French had been admitted with multiple stab wounds to the chest and lower abdomen. She’d been rushed to the ER following a collapsed lung and was in critical condition. It was imperative to locate someone with power to make medical decisions.
“I’ll be right over.”
The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever and the feeling of powerlessness he’d felt while on the back seat of the town car, unable to do anything of consequence, was acute. He felt better once at the hospital, where he could finally channel his anger and fear into something constructive. It took him minutes to find out Belle was out of surgery and to get the lead doctor in the operation to come talk to him. He tried to ignore the blood on the man’s scrubs. Belle’s blood.
The doctor was brisk and efficient, which was a small comfort, explaining how Belle had been operated on to stop her bleeding and fix her collapsed lung. It all had gone as well as could be expected, given the circumstances, and she had responded well to the transfusion. He was cautiously optimistic about her recovery.
A nurse led him into her room after that, saying something about visiting hours and in the ICU that he didn’t care to pay attention to. All he could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor and all he could see was Belle, smaller and paler than he could ever recall seeing her. Unlike what he had imagined very little about what he could see of her seemed wrong. A bruise around her temple and some blood on her hair, none of the gruesome injuries he had imagined. If not for the cables and drips hooked into her he would have thought her sleeping.
He sat right beside the bed, taking one of her hands in his and concentrating on what needed to be done. See that she was moved to a private room as soon as it was deemed safe, for one, if not outright transferred to New York Presbyterian. He’d have to call Mal to let her know about what had happened, and Belle’s father. But first there was someone else he had to call. He fished his cell out of his pocket and scrolled through his contact list, very conscious to try and keep his mounting sense of anger from altering his gentle grasp of Belle’s hand.
“Hello, Hatter. Can you fucking guess where I am?”
I understand completely why this prompt deserved the reaction it got. Like this is such hurt/comfort potential with Belle being physically forced to recognize how dangerous her pride was and Gold being all too aware that he cannot lose her. And all the taking care of Belle, feeling like he can’t propose while she relies on him because she might not feel like she can say no, Gold blaming himself for not realizing what had happened, potentially criminal proceedings/Killian bragging because he needs Gold to know he did it, the girls crowded around Belle’s bedside, Gold pretending he already is her fiancé to be allowed to stay around the hospital. Like this prompt opens up so many possibilities and they all hurt.
You’ve done an absolutely wonderful job with the pacing here and totally capturing Gold’s emotional state.
In regards to the S.S. Californian there are several possible reasons why they did not go to the Titanic’s aid.
1. The wireless was turned off. There wasn’t a standard practice in keeping communication open. The operator, Evans, was warning other ships about the ice field that forced the ship to stop. At 11:30 pm, he messaged the Titanic but didn’t properly word it with MSG (master service gram) to signal it’s importance and need to go to the bridge. Titanic’s wireless operator, Phillips, was going through a backlog of passenger messages and Evan’s message cut through his own message. Phillips rudely told Evans to shut up, and since Evans message wasn’t properly labeled, Phillips didn’t realize it was meant to be sent to the bridge. Thinking his job was done and probably a little steamed by Phillips’ rudeness, Evans turned off the wireless and went to bed. Ten minutes late the Titanic struck the iceberg.
2. The officers weren’t certain about the rockets. Part of this is again a lack of universal maritime signals. The men on the Californian knew the rockets could mean distress, but they couldn’t be sure. The rockets were being fired randomly instead of one minute intervals like they should have been to communicate distress. Random rockets could mean a navigation issue, thus asking for nearby ships to communicate location and not a serious issue. They did try communicating with a Morse lamp, but either the distance was too far for the Titanic to see it or the chaos of the sinking caused it to go unnoticed. They couldn’t see the Titanic clearly but observed that her lights look strange. However, they couldn’t be sure what was going on.
3. The captain, Stanley Lord, was said to be something of a tyrant on his ship. His men were wary of disturbing him, especially at so late an hour. Because of this, the crew might have failed to communicate their concerns. While Lord was informed that a ship was nearby at 11:30 (just before the collision) Lord only suggested communication via Morse lamp and not via wireless. The crew did not communicate to Lord about the rockets until 12:55, well over an hour after the collision. The crew did not suggest they were distress signals and Lord again insisted signally with the Morse lamp instead of wireless. While many of the crew were concerned, they did not pursue the matter with Lord. All they could be certain that the ship was signalling something, but weren’t sure why. Rather than airing on the side of caution, they opted not to share their concerns with Captain Lord, presumably because they didn’t want to take any blame of it turned out to be nothing and then face his wrath disturbing his sleep for no reason. At 2:00 am, they informed Lord that it appeared the ship was leaving because they couldn’t see the lights clearly anymore, not realizing the reason was because it was sinking. At 3:40 they spotted more rockets, these being fired by the Carpathia to alert the survivors of their rescue. Again, the crew did not left tell Captain Lord.
Unfortunately much is speculation. The scrap log used for taking notes while on duty was destroyed daily was was customs, so we can’t be certain other than their testimony during the inquiry.
Bottom line, the Californian failed to aid the Titanic because of a lack of communication among the crew and Captain, the wireless being shut off, and the lack of strict maritime procedure and regulation in regard to distress signals.
This gotta be the best feedback I’ve gotten on any fic.
LOL I hit the wrong reblog, lol, sorry.
Anonymous asked:
Prompt a thon... Starbucks Series... what if Jefferson didnt get in touch with Gold in time to rescue Belle and the call he receives, instead, is from the hospital?
When his cellphone rang, Jefferson’s name flashing across the screen, he let it go to voicemail. The insufferable little git, however, seemed immune to the concept of reading into things, and kept at it, ringing over and over till he decided a direct message was needed, something along the lines of “go fuck yourself”. But the number on the phone wasn’t one he recognised, nor was it the voice on the other end of the phone, asking him if he was Nicholas Gold and if he knew an Isabelle French.
“You’re listed as her emergency contact, is this correct?”
His heart plummeted to the ground, panic blooming in the pit of his stomach and quickly travelling up his spine, leaving him breathless. He dropped into a nearby chair, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. The voice on the other side was still speaking and he needed to answer.
“Yes, I’m Nicholas Gold, Miss French’s emergency contact. What’s happened?”
The person on the other end identified themselves as a nurse at the Bellevue Hospital Centre, and told him that a patient by the name of Isabelle French had been admitted with multiple stab wounds to the chest and lower abdomen. She’d been rushed to the ER following a collapsed lung and was in critical condition. It was imperative to locate someone with power to make medical decisions.
“I’ll be right over.”
The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever and the feeling of powerlessness he’d felt while on the back seat of the town car, unable to do anything of consequence, was acute. He felt better once at the hospital, where he could finally channel his anger and fear into something constructive. It took him minutes to find out Belle was out of surgery and to get the lead doctor in the operation to come talk to him. He tried to ignore the blood on the man’s scrubs. Belle’s blood.
The doctor was brisk and efficient, which was a small comfort, explaining how Belle had been operated on to stop her bleeding and fix her collapsed lung. It all had gone as well as could be expected, given the circumstances, and she had responded well to the transfusion. He was cautiously optimistic about her recovery.
A nurse led him into her room after that, saying something about visiting hours and in the ICU that he didn’t care to pay attention to. All he could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor and all he could see was Belle, smaller and paler than he could ever recall seeing her. Unlike what he had imagined very little about what he could see of her seemed wrong. A bruise around her temple and some blood on her hair, none of the gruesome injuries he had imagined. If not for the cables and drips hooked into her he would have thought her sleeping.
He sat right beside the bed, taking one of her hands in his and concentrating on what needed to be done. See that she was moved to a private room as soon as it was deemed safe, for one, if not outright transferred to New York Presbyterian. He’d have to call Mal to let her know about what had happened, and Belle’s father. But first there was someone else he had to call. He fished his cell out of his pocket and scrolled through his contact list, very conscious to try and keep his mounting sense of anger from altering his gentle grasp of Belle’s hand.
“Hello, Hatter. Can you fucking guess where I am?”
I understand completely why this prompt deserved the reaction it got. Like this is such hurt/comfort potential with Belle being physically forced to recognize how dangerous her pride was and Gold being all too aware that he cannot lose her. And all the taking care of Belle, feeling like he can’t propose while she relies on him because she might not feel like she can say no, Gold blaming himself for not realizing what had happened, potentially criminal proceedings/Killian bragging because he needs Gold to know he did it, the girls crowded around Belle’s bedside, Gold pretending he already is her fiancé to be allowed to stay around the hospital. Like this prompt opens up so many possibilities and they all hurt.
You’ve done an absolutely wonderful job with the pacing here and totally capturing Gold’s emotional state.
In regards to the S.S. Californian there are several possible reasons why they did not go to the Titanic’s aid.
1. The wireless was turned off. There wasn’t a standard practice in keeping communication open. The operator, Evans, was warning other ships about the ice field that forced the ship to stop. At 11:30 pm, he messaged the Titanic but didn’t properly word it with MSG (master service gram) to signal it’s importance and need to go to the bridge. Titanic’s wireless operator, Phillips, was going through a backlog of passenger messages and Evan’s message cut through his own message. Phillips rudely told Evans to shut up, and since Evans message wasn’t properly labeled, Phillips didn’t realize it was meant to be sent to the bridge. Thinking his job was done and probably a little steamed by Phillips’ rudeness, Evans turned off the wireless and went to bed. Ten minutes late the Titanic struck the iceberg.
2. The officers weren’t certain about the rockets. Part of this is again a lack of universal maritime signals. The men on the Californian knew the rockets could mean distress, but they couldn’t be sure. The rockets were being fired randomly instead of one minute intervals like they should have been to communicate distress. Random rockets could mean a navigation issue, thus asking for nearby ships to communicate location and not a serious issue. They did try communicating with a Morse lamp, but either the distance was too far for the Titanic to see it or the chaos of the sinking caused it to go unnoticed. They couldn’t see the Titanic clearly but observed that her lights look strange. However, they couldn’t be sure what was going on.
3. The captain, Stanley Lord, was said to be something of a tyrant on his ship. His men were wary of disturbing him, especially at so late an hour. Because of this, the crew might have failed to communicate their concerns. While Lord was informed that a ship was nearby at 11:30 (just before the collision) Lord only suggested communication via Morse lamp and not via wireless. The crew did not communicate to Lord about the rockets until 12:55, well over an hour after the collision. The crew did not suggest they were distress signals and Lord again insisted signally with the Morse lamp instead of wireless. While many of the crew were concerned, they did not pursue the matter with Lord. All they could be certain that the ship was signalling something, but weren’t sure why. Rather than airing on the side of caution, they opted not to share their concerns with Captain Lord, presumably because they didn’t want to take any blame of it turned out to be nothing and then face his wrath disturbing his sleep for no reason. At 2:00 am, they informed Lord that it appeared the ship was leaving because they couldn’t see the lights clearly anymore, not realizing the reason was because it was sinking. At 3:40 they spotted more rockets, these being fired by the Carpathia to alert the survivors of their rescue. Again, the crew did not left tell Captain Lord.
Unfortunately much is speculation. The scrap log used for taking notes while on duty was destroyed daily was was customs, so we can’t be certain other than their testimony during the inquiry.
Bottom line, the Californian failed to aid the Titanic because of a lack of communication among the crew and Captain, the wireless being shut off, and the lack of strict maritime procedure and regulation in regard to distress signals.
Bobbie Brown’s mother lived next door to my grandmother. Her daughter with Jani, Taylor, stayed with them a lot. I used to play with Taylor all the time. I met Bobbie a few times too. She used to wear t-shirts and sweatpants and sit on the floor to play Barbies with us.
Never knew she was so famous till years later. Might have to look at her books.