chalk mark

Fun animal facts I have learned being a zoo docent

1. There are several ways to classify the large cats, one of the more useful ones is into the roaring cats (tigers, lions) and the purring cats (bobcats, lynxes). The puma (also known as the mountain lion) is the largest cat that purrs. I’ve heard it up close, it’s amazing. A cheetah’s purr sounds like an idling motorcycle engine.

2. Kangaroos cannot move their legs independently of each other, they have to move them in sync - when they’re on land. When they’re swimming, they can move them separately. Hopping is their most efficient way to move - a walking kangaroo is awkward as hell. They swing both legs forward using their tail as a third leg to prop up while their legs swing.

3. People often think that flamingoes’ knees bend the wrong way. They don’t - the joint you’re seeing in the middle of their leg isn’t their knee, it’s their ankle. Their knee is up by their body, and it bends the same way ours does.

4. Giraffes only sleep 1-2 hours a day.

5. Bald eagles’ vocalizations are not what you expect. When you see a flying bald eagle in the movies and hear that majestic caw sound? That isn’t an eagle, it’s been dubbed over with another bird, usually a red-tailed hawk. Bald eagles actually sound…not majestic. Kind of like if a kitten could be a bird.

6. Elephants are one of only a handful of animals that can pass the mirror test - in other words, they can recognize their own reflection (and not think it’s another animal, as dogs and cats usually do). They tested this by placing a chalk mark on an elephant’s forehead and then showing it a mirror. The elephant investigated the mark on its own forehead, indicating it knew that it was looking at itself.  The only animals that pass this test are the higher primates, the higher cetaceans (orcas, dolphines), elephants, and weirdly, magpies.

7. One-fifth of all the known mammal species are bats.

8. A kangaroo mother can have three joeys simultaneously at different stages of development: an embryo in her womb (kangaroos can do what’s called embryonic diapause which means sort of putting the development on pause until she’s ready for it to develop further), a joey in her pouch attached to one nipple, and a joey out of the pouch on the ground who nurses from the other one. The amazing thing? Each of her nipples make different formulations of milk for each joey’s different nutritional needs.

9. Bonobos, our closest genetic relative (they are more closely related to us than they are to either chimps or gorillas) are almost entirely non-aggressive, matriarchal, and use sex to solve all their problems. They engage in both same and opposite sex interactions, non-penetrative sex (oral, rubbing, manual) and with any age. That’s an interesting area to work in, lemme tell you.

10. Tortoises have super loud sex. Like, really loud.

11. All grizzlies are brown bears, but not all brown bears are grizzlies (grizzlies are a sub-categorization of the brown bear).

12. Reindeer are the only deer species where both males and females grow antlers. The males shed theirs the beginning of December, the females shed theirs in the spring. So all of Santa’s reindeer are girls, heh. I love telling little kids that.

13. If a rhinoceros knocks off its horn, it grows back faster than you’d expect. One of ours, Rosie, has knocked hers off twice.

14. Gorillas get crushes on each other. And on the humans that take care of them. Male gorillas also masturbate. I don’t know if the females do, I’ve never seen it. Sometimes it’s like a soap opera up in there.

15. Langur monkeys are silvery-gray in color - their babies are bright orange. Like Cheeto orange, I do not exaggerate.

16. Polar bear fur is not white, it’s transparent, like fiber optics. Also, their skin is black.


Summary: To keep the peace, Stiles agrees to be emissary to the Hale pack.

Notes: I saw some posts about emissary bonds, and I just had to write one myself. (On AO3)

Stiles had said, more than once, that it was a bad idea. That they were risking the safety of the pack, taking too much of a chance.

But he’d done it anyway.

He’d gotten himself bonded to Derek of the Hale pack, and it wouldn’t be long before they figured out that he was a fraud. That Stiles had barely had enough magic to complete the mountain ash circle required by the ritual.

Keep reading

A Note From Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance's breakup if you haven't read it yet

A note from Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance’s breakup:

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.


It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.

The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
This was always my intent.

My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013

We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-

Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.


That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.

To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.

I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-

When it’s time, we stop.

It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.

You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.

There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.

There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…

I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.

The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.

All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.

What it said is between me and the voice.

I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.

Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.

There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-

That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?

With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.

And another opens-

This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.

He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-

“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.

When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.

I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.

In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.

I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-

Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.

Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-

My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.

Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.


Draconic Witchcraft: Circle Casting

  1. Stand in the middle of where you will draw your circle.
  2. Visualise your crown chakra opening to receive divine light.
  3. Open your arms, facing out; visualise the light growing stronger and forming into a shield of protection.
  4. Now raise one hand to either mentally mark the edges of your circle on the floor, or use chalk/protective powder to mark the circle. Spin around clockwise while drawing.
  5. Place white candles at each compass point on the circle..
  6. Stand facing East, in the centre of the circle. Relax and breathe until you feel calm, centred, and present. Light the candle and then chant: “To the East, I call upon the Guardians of the elements of Air and the Great Yellow Dragon to join me now and bless this circle. Hail and Welcome!
  7. Stand facing South. Light the candle and then chant: “To the South, I call upon the Guardians of the elements of Fire and the Great Red Dragon to join me now and bless this circle. Hail and Welcome!
  8. Stand facing West. Light the candle and then chant: “To the West, I call upon the Guardians of the elements of Water and the Great Blue Dragon to join me now and bless this circle. Hail and Welcome!
  9. Stand facing North. Light the candle and then chant: “To the North, I call upon the Guardians of the elements of Earth and the Great Green Dragon to join me now and bless this circle. Hail and Welcome!
  10. Raise your hands and palms upwards, and look up while chanting: “God and Goddess, Spirit Guides, please be present with me during this ritual. Bless this circle and keep me protected. No unwanted entities are welcome here. Only pure, divine beings are invited into this space. The circle is cast. So mote it be.
  11. Now you can sit or stand within your circle, and perform your spell.
  12. To close your circle, prepare to spin anticlockwise.
  13. Stand facing North. With your palms outstretched, chant: “To the North, I thank the Guardians of the element of Earth and the Great Green Dragon. Hail thee and farewell!
  14. Stand facing West. With your palms outstretched, chant: “To the West, I thank the Guardians of the element of Water and the Great Blue Dragon. Hail thee and farewell!
  15. Stand facing South. With your palms outstretched, chant: “To the South, I thank the Guardians of the element of Fire and the Great Red Dragon. Hail thee and farewell!
  16. Stand facing East. With your palms outstretched, chant: “To the East, I thank the Guardians of the element of Air and the Great Yellow Dragon. Hail thee and farewell!
  17. Stand in the middle with palms facing the sky and look upwards, chanting: “The circle is open, but never broken. I thank thee all for being present and blessing this ritual. May we meet again. Farewell, blessed be, and so it is.”
  18. Either let the candles burn down, or blow them out. Release your shield.
An Apology and Brushes

I’m sorry for my absence these last few months. I’ve had some stuff going on, but I am feeling better now. And I come bearing apology gifts for Ani and EFA’s followers. 

Super Versatile Brush:

(know that settings change as I need them to. This is basically the default for my brushes tho. This means all brushes.)

If you’ve ever used tegaki (e) this is a brush I made that is similar to how it works on there. Truthfully, the opacity should be manually changed to be like tegaki e, but this is my default brush. Great for blending with color picker. (basically a plain pencil brush with settings changes.)

Now for my absolute fave. The chunky chalk brush by Mark Winters.

Bonus stuff:

Snow/speckles (works great with the new scatter feature.)


petals (set to scatter)


anonymous asked:

Would you ever consider putting your brushes from firealpaca online? (there a few that look fun to use!)

Anything for you, anondorf! Ah but I didn’t make them so I’ll include a link to the original posts if they’re still up. Please give them the attention they deserve! 

[original source is gone sorry]

Oil Water Brush by Miss-NerdGasmz [x]

Dry Brush by Frivilosity [x]

Chunky Chalk by Mark Winters [x]

Sketch Brush [x] (I just named it Janky cuz it is)

Cloud Brush by Eggibunni [x] (their example is nicer lmao) 

But cities that are magical and sentient tho
  • Cities shutting down the subway and refusing to lower bridges when potholes get too bad and nothing is done about them because hey that hurts and someone needs to fix it.
  • Cities opening old abandoned subway stations and venting hot air above ground during the winter for the homeless population.
  • Sidewalk blocks standing up to protect protesters from the police.
  • Everyone feels safe running in the park at night because everyone knows one story about a guy who tried to mug/rape/attack someone and was dragged off by tree roots
  • Subway stairs rolling themselves up and refusing to let anyone into the tunnels so that management is forced to listen striking train drivers.
  • One weekend every summer the entire city is covered in chalk drawings the residents create as a thank you to the city that protects and cares for them so well. For weeks afterwards the sidewalks are covered in faint chalk marks until the next rain washes it all away.
  • Each spring the city does it’s own spring cleaning, rain storms and strong winds sweeping the garbage out of alley ways and into piles for the garbage workers to come and collect.


You take out the trash:
Old yearbooks, journals, and your pen collection from grade school.
You grab the giant bag you packed:
Clothes, toiletries, food for the next day, a towel, medicine, your laptop.

You turn around to look at your room one last time.
You feel nothing.

In the car, you blast
The pop songs you’ve memorized
And you sing along to ensure
That you continue to feel nothing.

You had skipped the goodbyes
To make things less awkward.
You kept calling this an experiment,
But by that you meant a mission.
Like watering flowers, you thought.
Cleansing and nourishing.

You bring the last bag
Into the new apartment and unpack.

You head to the store for some noodles and pasta sauce.
You turn around to look at your place for the first of many times.
You feel something.
It hurts how dim it is.
It hurts how quiet it is.
It hurts how different it is.
The dark wooden tables instead of the white ones.
The odd lamps that don’t quite match.
The bare walls that seem even more bare than the ones you left behind.

You come back and find
A Spotify playlist of pop songs to play
While you cook. It becomes your first tradition.
You glance at your phone,
Tempted to call someone,
Though not sure of who.
You decide to take a shower and watch a movie.

You always hated that “clean slate” saying.
Slates always had chalk marks
That couldn’t be ignored.
You were watering your flowers.
Complete cleanse, of course.

But those yearbooks are still
In a dump somewhere, far
From being decomposed.
Your phone contacts show up
Every time you call the pizza place.
You can’t forget home,
But home doesn’t miss you.

Common Theme

Request: Can i request #18 Bias is Mark Tuan and ur crush is Jackson ^^ 

18) Your bias tags along to buy your crush a gift when they are secretly crushing on you.

Member: Mark Tuan x Y/N

Type: fluff/angst

“So what says “I’m in love with you” but in like…a casual and uncommitted way?” I sighed, looking around the shop I had dragged Mark into. 

He looked up from the gossip magazine he had picked up, a fairly placid expression on his face. “But aren’t you looking to be committed?”

‘Well yeah,” I grumbled. “But I don’t want to freak him out.”

“You…freak…him out?” Mark stuttered, looking back down at the magazine. “Have you even met Jackson?”

‘What’s that supposed to mean?” I spat defensively. “Jackson is a great guy.”

“A great guy who kind of freaks everyone out,” Mark nodded with a smile. “What makes you crush so hard on him anyway?”

“Well..” I said quietly, beginning to play idly with a few items on the shelves. “He’s kind…and really smart…and good looking…and he makes me feel special.”

Mark made no attempt at masking his eye roll as he shut his magazine and stuffed it back into the rack. “He makes everyone feel special, Y/N.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as I stopped my pacing and spun to face my friend. I analyzed the matter of fact expression he was directing at me and furrowed my brows. Why was he trying to rain on my parade? 

“I know you’re a pessimistic realist, but I kind of think that’s just a fancy way of saying you’re an asshole,” I grumbled. 

“I am being a realist.” Mark sighed, following me along the shelves. “He makes everyone feel special. That’s his M.O.”

“M.O.?” I questioned. 

“Method of operation, modus operandi if you will,” Mark nodded. “Jackson gets off on making other people smile and feel loved. Making people happy makes him happy. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it can cause people to get the wrong idea sometimes.”

“So your saying I may have the wrong idea?” I asked, crossing my arms. I was growing less and less entertained with Mark’s position of shopping buddy. 

“I’m not saying that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m just saying to be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“And why do you care so much?” I groaned. “Ever since we got in the car you’ve been trying to talk me out of getting a gift. You’ve tried to talk me out of confessing.”

“Do you remember when you were convinced you were in love with Jinyoung?” Mark said bluntly, leveling me with a stare. “That’s why I’ve been trying to talk you out of this.”

“Look,” I sighed, trying to keep up the mental block I had built for the very situation he was referencing. “I was young and I was stupid.”

“You still are,” Mark chuckled. 

“Have I already went over you still being an asshole?” I spat, tilting my head. 

“Several times,” he nodded. “Now please, reconsider.”

“How am I ever supposed to find love and happiness if you beg me to reconsider every time I think I have feelings for someone?” I muttered. 

“Maybe if you didn’t keep having feelings for the wrong people, this wouldn’t be such a common theme in our friendship,” Mark whispered. 

I turned again. “And who are the right people Mark? Enlighten me, great knower of all things.”

“I don’t know,” Mark whispered, kicking at imaginary dirt. He looked away from me. “Just not my members…”

“Why?” I said again, pushing him for answers. I’ll admit, there was a time when I was very much convinced I was in love with Jinyoung, but that was the only other member of Got7 I had thought of having feelings for. I felt like it wasn’t completely my fault that I had fallen for several of Mark’s friends. They were a group of talented, extremely attractive, and kind men. 

“Because we’re friends, Y/N,” Mark groaned. “I don’t want you dating my friends. It’s too close. If it doesn’t turn out okay, it makes everything awkward for everyone.”

“Do you have inside intel or something? Have you been talking with Jackson? Does he not feel the same?” I whispered, turning into a tailspin of doubt. 

“I don’t know, and frankly I don’t give a shit,” Mark spat, turning away from me. “Just drop it, okay? I’m not asking anymore. I’m telling you.”

“You’re-you’re telling me?” I stuttered. I blinked quickly, trying to analyze the words he just directed at me. Was this guy for real?

“I’m telling you. Conversation over,” Mark nodded, striding away from me and out of the shop. He was already outside before my foggy brain began to clear and I began to move. Anger enveloped my stomach and leapt up my heart like a hot flame. I quickened my pace, hurrying outside to catch up with him. 

“Tuan,” I shouted. He was already a few yards down the sidewalk. I jogged to meet up with him as he wasn’t stopping. I clutched him by the shoulder, forcing him to halt. He ripped his arm from my grasp and glared at me. 

“What the hell?” I hissed. I tugged him to the edge of the sidewalk, hoping to avoid a scene as people  passed by. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Y/N,” Mark mumbled. 

“You better start talking,” I nodded, eyes wide. “Cause I’m sick of this, whatever it is. Initially I thought you were just in a shitty mood and being a typical asshole, but this is uncalled for. What is your issue?”

“My issue? My issue is you keep dragging me along on these half baked plans for a confession and I feel so weird and awkward,” he muttered. 

“Why Mark? You’re my closest friend, why does this make you feel weird?” I pleaded. I was extremely frustrated with the man I had been so close to for so long. The dam containing my tears was threatening to break and I silently cursed at myself. Every one of my emotions seemed to be connected to my tear ducts. Anger? I cried. Sadness? I cried. Frustration? I cried. 

“It’s weird because I have a crush on you, alright?” he spat, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. He looked at the ground as he spoke. “Every time you come to me with a new crush on someone I know, I feel weak inside. I get angry and then I feel defeated. You could probably get any of them to go out with you…but they know. They don’t say it but I know they all know…they’ll never touch you for as long as I’m around.”

I remained silent. My mouth opened and closed, unsure of the words that I wanted to say. He had a crush on me? I had known Mark since he arrived in Korea and this thought would have never dawned on me in a million years. It all made sense. All of the anger, all of the attitudes, all of the grumpiness. What I had chalked up as general Mark traits weren’t that. He was hurt and I had been blind to it for so long. 

I furrowed my brows, trying to gather my thoughts. I felt like a whole new world of feeling and emotion had been unlocked in my head. I had never thought of Mark because I thought it was an impossibility. Now that the situation had presented itself, IT had all new opportunities. 

“I know you probably see me as a pain in the ass brother you didn’t ask for…but I had to tell you before I went crazy,” Mark whispered. He slowly glanced at me. “But I would really appreciate if you would stop looking at me like that and actually say something.”

“Sorry,” I breathed, unable to clear my expression. I continued to stare at him in disbelief. “I had…I had never thought you would say this…I think I’m in a state of shock.”

“The tin man has a heart,” Mark chuckled sarcastically. 

“I never doubted it,” I smiled. 

Mark looked up, a small smile on his handsome face. “So…what now?”

“Coffee,” I nodded. “And a really long and awkward conversation about feelings.” 

“Sounds excruciating,” Mark nodded, his smile growing wider. “But worth it.”

I nodded as well. “Definitely worth it.”

Originally posted by onlymarktuan93

A Dream is a Wish

Rumplestiltskin/Belle, G 

Summary: A fix it for the fate of Belle and Rumbelle in the Wish Realm.

Notes: I had to. It was just too sad. Spoilers for 6x11. Unbeta’d errors abound, probably.


The first sign that something was amiss was the slight weakening of the wards on his prison. Rumplestiltskin awoke from a hazy sleep, not knowing how many days had passed, and not truly caring either, to the tickling sensation of magic. He frowned and started pacing the perimeter of his cell, but a moment later when Regina - no, this other Regina - showed up, he knew it had been caused by her.

What she’d said about being from another world sort of made sense. He’d read of such a thing going back to some of the oldest texts he could find. Everyone knew there were other realms, of course, but it was only a theory that there could also be copies of those worlds as well, a new one splitting off every time an important decision was made. That implied they were infinite in number, and the thought of more than one of him in existence was disconcerting to say the least.

As soon as he was left Princess Emma and the other Regina, he transported himself to Regina’s castle. Before his unfortunate and extended imprisonment, he’d discovered that Belle had never made it home to Avonlea, and further, that she’d tried to return to the Dark Castle only to be intercepted by this world’s Regina. Naturally, he assumed he would find his True Love in the highest tower, yet he hesitated before opening the door.

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anonymous asked:

do you know anything about what paine was like with the monroes when they were in france? i'm assuming his brief friendship with napoleon was largely because of them! and, if possible, could you find out if the monroes being slave owners was a strain on their relationship, if they in fact had a good one?

The Monroes being slaves was not a strain on their relationship what so ever because both parties grew up around slavery and inherited slaves when their fathers died. 

The Monroes and Thomas Paine is a rather cool story, it has nothing to do with Napoleon Bonaparte however because they housed Paine during their first time in France from 1794-1797, they didn’t get into Napoleon’s circle until their second visit in 1803-1808. It was after James Monroe’s arrival in France that he addressed the National Convention, receiving a standing applause for his speech celebrating republicanism. He experienced several early diplomatic successes, including the protection of U.S. trade from French attacks and used his good influence on the French to win the release of Thomas Paine and Adrienne de La Fayette.

Thomas Paine was arrested in 1793 after publishing his antiroyalty book The Rights of Man and for his strict opposition to the death penalty which he vocally spoke about. He also began writing a provocative new book, The Age of Reason, which promoted the notion that God did not influence the actions of people and that science and rationality would prevail over religion and superstition. Autumn of 1793, he was arrested and taken to Luxembourg Prison. In prison, he continued to work on The Age of Reason. There is one such event that befell him while in prison, nearly taking his head:

“A chalk-mark used to be put on the dungeon door of each prisoner who was picked out for execution. The door of Paine’s cell swung open, so that when the marker passed along in the performance of his gruesome task he chalked the back of the door. Shortly after, Paine closed the door, so that the mark was inside and could not be seen. When the headsmen came in search of their victims, they saw no such mark on Paine’s door and so he escaped the guillotine.”

James Monroe began using all of his diplomatic connections to get Paine released in November 1794. Monroe began to clash with the other Minister to France, Gouveneur Morris over Thomas Paine’s release. Morris wanted to prevent Paine from returning to America and Paine was not as abusive of Morris as Morris was of Paine. Of course, Monroe received terrible attention from America because he was given specific instructions not to intervene in these such matters in France. It was on November 6th, that Monroe rescued Paine from Luxembourg prison. Monroe “took him, half dead, to his own abode, then the Maison des Eir angers, Rue de la Roi. This is now (1899) 101 Rue de Richelieu, printing office of Le Temps and publishing office of the Gironde. It is the same building as in Paine’s time, and several rooms retain traces of their former decora- tions. ” By November 30th, Monroe wrote to James Madison:

“Mr. Paine who is of my family desires to be remembered to you. He will be with you in the spring.”

Paine would live in the Monroe residence from November 1794 to the spring of 1796. He borrowed money “Mr. Paine had occasion to borrow two hundred & fifty crowns” (October 23, 1795). When Thomas Paine arrived at the Monroe’s home “he was in extreme ill health, without resource, & (affrs. being unsettled) not without apprehensions of personal danger, & therefore anxious to avail himself as much as possible of such protection as I cod. give him.” He was given a separate room in their house which he accepted, and it was his intention at that time some point in October on 1794 to depart for America in the Spring. 

Monroe “asked permission of the Com[mity] of p[ublic] safety for him to depart” from France back to America, but he was denied with request. His disease being rather terrible, he continued to be in their home until in the words of Monroe, “his death or departure for America, however remote either the one or the other event may be.” James Monroe gave him a strict rule, that “whilst in my house, he would write nothing for the publick, either of Europe or America, upon the subject of our affrs.” Paine apparently did not look upon this in a favorable light but soon faltered after Monroe mentioned the “delicacy of my publick & private character” and for he did not want more to spoil his public character.

It was during this time that Monroe and Paine grew to be rather close and discussed deism and religion and Paine’s savior seemed to enjoy “the pleasure of extending to Mr. Paine”. Paine broke his promise and began communicating with Frederick Muhlenburg in America as well at Thomas Pinckney. Argument “revived” with Paine and Monroe began expressing his “extreme concern” that he pursued a conduct which, under existing circumstances, “gave me so much pain.” 

By July 5th, 1796, Paine began to disobey and overstay his company in the Monroe home. Paine “having resolved to continue in Europe sometime longer” realized that “it was inconvenient for me to keep him longer in my family” he began publishing papers again as well as getting into politics issues which led to Monroe’s recall by President George Washington in 1797. Disregarding Monroe’s request which was that if Paine heard any information pertaining the United States since he was still ambassador, Monroe knew his guest was going to “probably compromit me by publishing some things which he picked up while in my house.” Paine began to harass and turned into more of a burden in the home. Paine did publish something, a pamphlet against George Washington and Washington back in America believing that Monroe was excepting this type of behavior, encouraging it and ultimately recalled him back.

Paine’s character not only was one of the leading reasons he got recalled, it was also what the Federalist began to strike against him when John Adams was elected in 1797. In a letter to James Madison on June 8th, 1798 in response to the May 8th address from the inhabitants of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania where President Adams complained that “the honor done, the publicity and solemnity given to the audience of leave, to a disgraced minister, recalled in displeasure for misconduct, was a studied insult to the government of my country” : 

“The first paragh. is inaccurate, in implying that Paine did write in my house, whereas he did not—and in implying also that I knew of his writing by Mr. Pinckney as also the contents of the letter, wh. I did not, having heard of no such letter till Mr. Pinckney informed me of it after he left Paris as I accompanied him a few miles from the town.”

James Monroe may have saved Thomas Paine from the guillotine and prison but it certainly did him not good in the long run. He got on shiftier terms with the French, was recalled from his Diplomatic position and Federalist during the Adams Administration used his hospitality against him suggestion, charging saying he provoked Paine to write the anti-Washington pamphlets and spearheaded extremely inappropriate behavior. 

meibara34  asked:

botw zelink: after calamity at link's house in hateno there is a post that has lots of chalk marks measuring their height growth. it's a bit of competition bet link and zelda. :)

Cute cute cute cute cute

I wanna think Link ends up being taller, jusssttt a little bit. And whenever he points it out (he’s very proud of the fact) Zelda sticks her tongue out at him and huffs.

If someone mistakes them for being the same height Link will be very offended and pout the rest of the day.

I love insecure Link

anonymous asked:

Roadhog with a needy s/o?

You tried to be good. You knew when Roadhog was planning for heists he liked to be uninterrupted. He liked to plan for escape routes, structural weak points and any security systems that could slow them down or trip them up. While Junkrat’s explosives or his Scrap Gun or Chain Hook could handle most issues, he hated going in blind. Still, he had been staring at the floor plan for the better part of two hours and you were getting antsy. You had long since jumped onto the table, sitting cross legged on the large wooden surface and watching him as he worked. He didn’t have his mask on so you were able to study his face as he was deep in thought; the furrowing of his brow, the slightest frown on his lips, the way his nostrils would flare when he huffed after nixing a plan.

“You’re so handsome”, you genuinely complimented, your chin resting in the palms of your hands, your elbows on your knees.

The compliment got a glance in your direction and a small smirk; a jolt of giddy pleasure rushing through your body. His attention, sadly, returned to the floor plans once more. Surely he had done enough research hadn’t he? He could spare a little bit of time for you, couldn’t he? You nibbled on your bottom lip for a few moments before you stretched a little, showing off a strip of skin as you lifted your arms. Roadhog loved your soft skin; he’d caress your soft skin and leave you covered in love bites, a physical sign that you were all his. Most of the bites from you last session had faded and you craved a few more. But, it didn’t even seem like he saw your playful little actions. You might have to step it up…

You stretched out again, your tank top riding a little higher, showing off your belly button to the man. You loved when he showered kisses against and all around there. It seemed he didn’t share that sentiment at the moment as he grabbed a chalk pencil and marked off another supporting wall. You gave a whine, dramatically falling across the layout, your tank top rising to just below your chest.

“Maaaako”, you practically sang, locking your eyes with his as he gave you an amused, questioning look. “I’m bored…don’t you want to play with me?”

You shivered and wiggled as his hands grabbed your hips, setting you in place. His head dipped down, drawing several softly mewling moans from your lips as he placed several searing kisses against your stomach before nipping lightly at the small swell of belly fat below your belly button.

“I could take a break…”