white squiggles

“Those who would walk the path of the white mage are healers without peer, possessed of the power to deliver comrades from the direst of afflictions—even the icy grip of death itself.

anonymous asked:

What do you think the genetics are on the cat you just reblogged? The black and white one with the black mask and white squiggle going up their muzzle! It looks unusual!

she’s just a tortie colorpoint o:

Doing Chores Part One - S.T.A.R. Labs Imagines

Strap in, Flashlings. This is a long’n.


Barry Allen

“You do realize I could finish this in, like, three seconds, right?” Barry asks you over his shoulder.

“And let you break them all?”

“I’m fast, not hasty. There’s a difference,” he said.

You press a butter knife to his bicep in as menacing a way as you can muster. “We are doing our dishes the normal way, Barry Allen. Together, after our meal, at a normal speed.”

Barry rolls his head back. “But why?”

“Because I said so, that’s why. You dry.” You begin scrubbing out a bowl.

“Fine, but I don’t understand it.”

You smile to yourself. Even the Flash ought to do a healthy amount of chores in a day.


Caitlin Snow

Caitlin stands, ankle-deep in scummy water. She strikes a strange sight: the poised, articulate scientist standing amid the overflow of a crapper.

You throw back your head in laughter.

“What?” Caitlin asks, looking a little irritated. You stop laughing; she IS armed with a plunger.

“Nothing, nothing. Just… you.”

“Me?” Caitlin asks. She arches an eyebrow stiffly.

You wade across the bathroom, put your hands on her waist, then kiss her firmly.

“Caitlin, you’re a masterpiece,” you say, taking the plunger.

A blush and a small smile settle on her face as you both go forth to conquer the plumbing.


Cisco Ramon

“Will you shut up?!” Cisco yells.

“I don’t think that smacking it with the mop handle is doing anything,” you say helpfully.

Cisco looks down at you from where he stands on top of a desk, giving you a flat look. “Gee, I didn’t notice by the sound of ALARMS BLARING IN MY EARS.”

“Mister Ramone!” Harrison yells from the hallways. “Will you please-”

“We’re working on it!” you call, joining Cisco on the desk. “Did you try-”

“I checked the Programming on the computer, I checked the wiring in the alarm system, I checked everything! I don’t know why it’s gone haywire!”

“Well… this is the main alarm?”

“Yeah, all the other-”

“Mr. Ramon!”

“I’m working on it, Harry!”  

You reach up and flip open a small compartment, then yank out the batteries, letting them clatter to the desk. Silence falls.

“Thank you,” Harrison says.

Cisco looks at you.

“It’s only a temporary fix of course,” you say.

“I freaking love you,” he says, before kissing you briskly.


Eddie Thawne

You come through the door, surprised at the silence in the house. Eddie usually takes much longer to vacuum. You walk into the living room, impressed.

Then you’re a little less impressed.

“What the heck…”

The entire room seems to be covered in grey dust. The couch, the carpet, the footstools. In the middle of it all is Eddie with an open vacuum beside him.

“Oh, uh… hey, babe,” Eddie says. His eyes scan the mess, not quite meeting yours.

“What in the world happened in here?” you ask, stepping forward.

“Well….” He sighs before going on. “I accidentally sucked up something I was going to give you, and I was trying to find it, but it’s just sort of… everywhere now.” He runs a hand through his close-cropped hair, leaving streaks of grey in the blonde.

You march over and flip the vacuum upside down. Caught in the bristles beneath is a ring, glittering despite the dust.

Eddie’s face lights up. “You found it!”

With a laugh, you slip it on. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“It’s for our anniversary,” he says with a grin. “It’s a day early. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you say with another laugh before kissing him. Then you pull back, making a face at the taste. “Right… let’s clean this up.”


Eobard Thawne

Eobard Thawne doesn’t do chores. That is, until you dragged him to your house and made him live like a mere mortal for a while.

“This is pointless,” he tells you, a duster in hand.

“It’s adulthood.”

“Hire someone whose full job is this sort of thing.”

“Can’t afford it.”

“I’m doing a terrible job.”

“Yes you are. Dust.”


Harrison Wells

Harrison wasn’t exactly a neat-freak, but neither was he a messy person. His lab remained a respectable mix of scientifically cluttered and professionally clean.

That is, until he becomes absorbed in a project.

Slowly, the dust levels rise, the clutter turn into a Great Wall of Science, and Harrison himself turns into a sort of mess.

“That is it,” you declare, setting down the coffee so harshly that a screw jumps to the floor. “You have been slaving over this for two weeks and this lab is a mess!”

Harrison looks at you from behind his plexiglass board of formulas, frowning between the white squiggles.

“…and?”

“And we’re cleaning it.” You grasp the edge of the board and roll it away, then snatch up any mostly-completed products and set them aside. Then you drag Wells into attacking the room, armed with rags and organizational boxes.

Harrison never failed to complain at every task about his neglected research, but you could swear–with no small amount of satisfaction–he worked faster once the room was cleaned up.

ADHD isn’t an adjective.

Don’t ever underestimate how insulting it is to use mental illnesses as adjectives.
Don’t ever underestimate how belittling it is to have to explain that you’re serious when you say, “I have ADHD”.
Don’t ever underestimate how humiliating it is to have to listen to people self-diagnose themselves with ADHD because “they get bored in class”.

Because ADHD isn’t not being able to pay attention because you’re bored.
Because ADHD isn’t wanting to avoid your homework because you hate math.
Because ADHD is an actual neurodevelopmental disease.

  • It’s not being able to pay attention even though you’re trying to hardest to understand what’s going on.
  • It’s reading the same sentence 20 times and having to go back 21 times because your brain refuses to comprehend what it means.  
  • It’s sitting in a classroom watching the teacher move on while you’re still trying to process a concept from 20 minutes ago.
  • It’s getting anxiety over feeling like you can’t ask questions because your brain tells you that “any normal person would know this, it’s too simple and embarrassing to ask”.
    • Or not being able to hold back those questions and interrupting the lesson without meaning to, but your mouth moves faster than your brain can stop it.
  • It’s not being able to read because a paragraph just looks like a block of letters that don’t connect.
  • It’s trying to stay on task despite the fact that every word you hear stems off into a different train of thought that goes off into nowhere.
  • It’s feeling like an idiot every time you stare down at your test paper and you can see the problem in front of you but you can’t figure out what it’s trying to say no matter how many times you look at it.
  • It’s getting angry over the smallest things because your temper flares up faster than you can calm it down.
  • It’s constantly wondering if your reactions are valid or whether you’re overreacting to everything.
  • It’s getting frustrated because you can’t even do basic human functions like sleep at the proper time.
  • It’s the mental block at 2 AM when all you want to do is just stand up and go to your bed and go to sleep but your brain is so preoccupied that you can’t even move.
  • It’s the depression that happens because you know you have a massive pile of work to do and you know that your brain will just look at it and see nothing but sheets of white and black squiggles instead of words on a piece of paper.
  • It’s your fucked up sleep schedule that has you napping for 6 hours in the afternoon and staying up all night.
  • It’s the periods of hyperactivity that make you feel like maybe you are just faking it, maybe it is just your fault that you’re not focusing.
  • It’s feeling just a little more dejected every single time you hear someone say “omg I’m so ADD”.
  • It’s slowly crumbling inside every time someone tells you to “just try a little harder, just concentrate”.
  • It’s knowing that the “yeah I know what you mean”s whenever you explain your symptoms are coming from the mouths of people who have never experienced anything more just not wanting to do homework.
  • It’s constantly hearing how “everyone these days has ADHD” and feeling like you’re an invalid nothing.
  • It’s having to deal with your parents not understanding that your brain is not physically capable of functioning properly.
  • It’s the slightly concerned-weirded out-scared looks you get from people whenever you can’t finish your sentences because you get overexcited.
    • or those same looks when you explode over the littlest thing and you’re spitting out words faster than you can even think about them.


“Can’t you just take medicine for it?”

Do you know what it’s like to have to go through the process of gathering the courage to seek out a good psychiatrist that will properly diagnose you and actually finding a pill that works?

  • It’s months upon months of trying different medications every two weeks, some taking a month to build upon with no results to show.
  • It’s having to deal with the side effects of stimulants meaning increased anxiety and heart palpitations and losing your appetite.
  • It’s listening to neurotypicals joke about how much weight you’ve lost because of “those ADHD pills, haha maybe I should try them”, when you know that you haven’t eaten properly in probably about a year.
  • It’s lying to your grandma that you ate lunch that day when you know that you were hiding out in an empty classroom trying to cram for another test to no avail.
  • It’s hyperfocusing and rewriting your notes for hours until your hand has bruises from how hard you were holding your pencil because stimulants mean stimulating your OCD and you won’t stop until your notes are perfect.
  • It’s still having to struggle on focusing on the right thing and not accidentally using all your energy on something you’ll regret at 4 am when your work still isn’t done.
  • It’s having your ADHD somehow get worse than before and increasing your dosage to try to make something feel better even though the increased anxiety is almost killing you.
  • It’s not knowing whether you’re shaking because it’s cold or your body can’t handle whatever pill your doctor told you to take that day.
  • It’s trying every cocktail of medicine to try to make the anxiety and mood swings go away and fix your sleeping problems and stop your unresting racing heartbeat and having none of them work.
  • It’s losing your personality and trying to take advantage of the slightly increased focus by constantly working and losing relationships in the process.
  • It’s worrying about the fact that your psychiatrist prescribed you a benzo as a minor and wondering if they’re actually trying to help you when they push pill after pill on you.
  • It’s knowing that the mess of mental illness that plagues your brain doesn’t just stop at ADHD, it’s now branched out to OCD and GAD and bipolar disorder and depression.


That’s what living with ADHD is. It’s not being bored or stupid or lazy.

It’s an actual problem that is severely overlooked and severely underrated so

stop. using. it. as. a. fucking. adjective.

Barrista!Bin Valentines Day

The coldest day of the week happened to fall on Valentines Day, and watching the various couples pass by as you took your solitary walk home did make you any warmer. The sky is clear and the sun light reflects off the snow, glittering the ground, but the air is bitterly cold. Once your puffs of hot breath have disappeared from sight, its cold enough that you tug your scarf up to cover your reddening nose. The walk back to your house is a couple of blocks away, but your bare fingers are turning into icicles inside of your pockets and the smell of fresh brewed coffee coming from the small cafe down the street is looking like heaven right now. Although you don’t really drink coffee all that much, you like the idea of being indoors and warm. Through the window the restaurant is mostly empty, a few customers scattered through the cozy space and an employee behind the counter. As you step inside, the bell chimes lightly alerting the staff another customer has arrived. Immediately the warmth relaxes your shivering muscles as you step up to the counter. The cute barrista boy hadn’t acknowledged you yet, instead focusing on cleaning one of the machines. Since you really had no rush to go back outside in the cold, you opted for leaning against the counter and watching as the cute boy bites his lip in concentration. Once the machine is clean, the barrisita steps back, glancing over in your direction, eyebrows raising in surprise.
“Ah welcome welcome Im sorry I didn’t even notice the bell ringing. Welcome to Cozy Cafe what can I get you?”
His smile reaches his eyes as he takes your order, nodding at your order of only a mug of hot chocolate. After paying and sliding the change into the small tip jar on the counter, you find yourself a comfortable seat by the window and watch the people walking by and feeling the warmth of the sun without feeling the chill of the wind. The combination of the warmth of the room and your tired muscles begin to make your eyelids feel heavy. Everything slows down and you let the sleep overtake you.
“…miss? Are you awake yet?”
The gentle voice stirs you from your sleep. The first thing you notice is the sun has fallen lower in the sky, clouds turning from blue to pink. Had you fallen asleep for that long? The owner of the voice was the barrista who had taken your order, and up close you noticed his name tag said ‘Bin’.
“I didn’t want to wake you but we’re closing soon and I thought maybe you’d want to drink the hot chocolate you ordered before you left.” He says, eyes lighting up as he gestures to the mug on the end table next to you. He laughs softly, and you watch in awe as his eyes curve into crescents and his smile is wide and inviting. “It’s probably cold by now though.”
The mug of hot chocolate has some sort of white squiggle drawn in milk. You look up at the boy in front of you, and he smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.
“It was supposed to be a heart, you know for valentines day and stuff not because I thought you were cute or anything….but it didn’t turn out that great.”
“I’ll still drink it regardless,” you assure him, taking a sip of the once warm drink. It’s cold now, really cold.
Bin seems to notice judging by your reaction, and he reaches to take the cup from your hand.
“I’m supposed to close up in 15 minutes, so how about you help me get this place ready to close up shop and I make you a new cup of hot chocolate.”
You nod your head and he grins, taking the mug back behind the counter with him. As he puts together a new drink, you go around the small cafe, putting chairs on the tables and bringing stray utensils and dishes back to the counter.
“One hot chocolate, now with a proper heart!” the boy announces, proudly setting the mug in front of you. It’s a little lopsided, one of the sides larger than the other, but its a huge improvement from the first one.
As you sit and enjoy your piping hot cup of hot chocolate, Bin sweeps the floor and cleans up the machinery.
Once he’s done, Bin comes over to lean across the counter, chin resting in hands, watching as you finish your drink.
“Thanks for keeping me company today, not many people stopped in.” He mumbles into his sleeve.
“I was asleep for the majority of it” you counter.
“Well the next time you keep me company you stay awake the whole time. ” a smile appearing on his face.
You return his smile, making a mental note of coming back to the small cafe on the corner tomorrow.
Stepping outside, once again being met with the cold air.
The coldest day of the week may have fallen on Valentines Day, but this is the warmest you’ve felt in a long time.

4

Science, and particularly taxonomy, presents many challenges for scientists, especially in naming. Entomology, and particularly lepidepterology, presents even more challenges. Consider the butterfly genus polygonia illustrated above: look carefully at the wing undersides for a small white mark. The top row is the Polygonia interrogationis, commonly known as the Question Mark Butterfly, distinguished by the small white mark (can you see the period under the swoosh?) in the shape of a question mark. Now look carefully at the bottom row, where a very similar white mark gives the Polygonia comma (commonly known as the Comma Butterfly) its name. To a casual observer these marks are barely noticeable and almost indistinguishable one from the other. For Johan Christian Fabricius, the great Danish entomologist, the differences were both clear and compelling. A student of the father of taxonomy Carl Linneaus, Fabricius was at the very forefront of taxonomy at an incredibly important time. He was also absurdly prolific and dedicated: while Carl Linneaus is considered the founder of taxonomy he only named some 3,000 species. Fabricius on the other hand named over 10,000 in his forty year career. Hence the very small but suddenly very important difference in those two little white squiggles!

Classically educated scientists and naturalists of the time were well educated in both Latin and Ancient Greek and were often fluent in multiple languages. Naming conventions often took small, concrete and descriptive details into account and formulated names to describe the species from the ancient languages. Here, polygonia comes from the Ancient Greek words πολυς polus meaning many and γονια gonia meaning angle, a description of the angular wings typical of the genus. The Latin word interrogationis is almost identical to its English equivalent interrogation with almost the same meaning, to question. And the word comma is an English transliteration of the Ancient Greek word κομμα komma, meaning a break or pause.


Top Left: The Question Mark butterfly, image of top of wings by Derek Ramsay.

Top right: Question Mark butterfly, image of wing underside by John B.

Bottom Left: Comma wing tops, image by D. Gordon E. Robertson, PhD, Fellow of Canadian Society for Biomechanics, Emeritus Professor, School of Human Kinetics, University of Ottawa, Ottawa, Canada

Bottom Right: Comma underside image by Kaldari.

All images used under a Creative Commons 3.0 license, with much gratitude.