The lion roams the open plains, its head held high, its footsteps sure. Sunlight glitters off its golden fur, creating a radiance unlike any other. The heat is warm and welcomed. The lion treks through the grass and the dirt, lifting its head to watch the birds circling in the sky. It pauses, gives chase, and lingers for a moment as it considers returning home. But it does not. There is always a new chase, the lion knows. A new adventure, something exciting just over the horizon. The lion tips its head back in a roar. And then it steps forward.
The badger pokes its head from the entrance of its burrow. The morning air is edged by the sharp chill of last night’s frost, but the badger does not feel the cold. It continues out of its hole and into the small field of frozen grass and flowers. There’s something beautiful about them, the ice glittering along the petals, their stillness as they’re frozen in standstill. The sun will come soon, the badger knows, the sun will come and the ice will melt. Then, their beauty will be different, but neither better nor worse. Beauty it knows, is an evolving thing, and there is no one way for an object to show it. They will still be the flowers it knows and loves, they will still be beautiful. It digs its claws into the earth. And it waits for the sun to shine.
The eagle soars through the sky, held aloft by the drafts of air that ruffle its feathers. Up here, the air is cold, thin, but the eagle does not mind. Here is a place for thinking, a place where trouble is few and far between and answers are easy to find. The eagle scans the land below, trained eyes catching on the things that others would never notice: a flower blooming, the melting of snow, a cricket beginning its song. From up here, everything is so small, so trivial, so simple. Everything is merely a single piece, a little part of the world. Up here, the eagle feels as though it can truly understand. And so it flies onward.
The snake slips through the shadows, unnoticed by the ones who pass it by. The scales on its back shift as they’re dappled with with different arrays of light, and the snake allows itself to rest for a moment in a patch of sunlight. Somewhere nearby, it can hear water running, the soft gentle hiss of shifting pebbles and hidden currents. The sun beats against its back, and it finds that it enjoys the peace of the moment. The warmth, the running water, the concrete moment in time before a future where everything can change. But then…the snake is no stranger to change. It sheds its skin, it moves from light to shadows. For all that it loves this warmth, this peace, it knows that change will only make it stronger. Wind rustles through the trees above its head. And it slips away.
“Listen, listen: a pigeon… no, no, wait, an eagle flew in, landed on the stove, and caught fire! The baby, seeing this, jumps across the apartment to the mighty bird’s aid! The eagle, however, misconstrues this as an act of aggression and grabs the baby in its talons! Meanwhile, the faucet fills the apartment with water! Baby and bird, still ablaze, are locked in a death-grip, swirling around the whirlpool that fills the apartment!”
What does John mean when he touches Sherlock's knee and says "I don't mind?"
He means he doesn’t mind pickles on his hamburger.
Okay sorry, I’ll answer sans sarcasm! :) John’s motto has been “not gay!” since he met Sherlock. He’s never acted homophobic at all, but he gets defensive when people assume he and Sherlock are dating. In this scene he’s drunk as hell, in that murky area where you’re making conscious decisions but your drunkenness allows you to convince yourself it’s really your subconscious doing it and you actually aren’t aware of what you’re doing somehow. John’s testing the waters to see if Sherlock is interested.
So he scoots forward, conveniently loses his balance, grabs Sherlock’s knee, then looks at his hand in exaggerated surprise and says “I don’t mind.” He doesn’t mind this highly unusual and very suggestive physical contact. He says it like it’s suddenly occurred to him, like he’s never ever considered it before, and oh, hey, here it is out of the blue and it’s all fine.
Let’s look at the gifs, because…well. We don’t really need a reason, do we?
alright alright alright, scooting forward, eyes on the prize, aaaand balance
target acquired, slide forward, Captain incoming everyone lookout and THE EAGLE HAS LANDED
knee’s just for leverage getting back on the sitty thing like the slick bastard I am now I’ll just leave the hand because whatever I’m totally unaware of it and maybe that’s not even my hand the universe is weird like that man
now then, what were we talking abou—what are you looking at? OH! MY HAND! IT SEEMS TO STILL BE ON YOUR KNEE HOW UNEXPECTED.
HANDS ARE WEIRD LIKE THAT JUST LIKE THE UNIVERSE IS WEIRD AND WHO KNOWS WHY THESE THINGS HAPPEN THEY JUST DO?
a hand is just a hand a kiss is just a kiss a smile is just a smile that’s a great song amirite so who cares about hands really. “I don’t mind.”
omfg that was so smooth Operation Handlock ftfw so now what, Captain? something more unsubtler or like a little less not subtle or OH I KNOW
oh my god these two capercaillie cocks are fighting each other and then this golden eagle just lands on one of them and stands there waiting for him to die, and the other capercaillie just keeps fighting. you can see the eagle watching him like “buddy…. buddy i am in the middle of killing a guy.” and then they slap each other a bit and the eagle the whole time is just staring at him like
and then the dude just… does not stop interrupting this murder, so the eagle has to let go of Slowly Dying Capercaillie #1 to kill this second dude, and then there’s two dead cocks and 1 very confused eagle
Lolol this ain't your regular hc but how do you think Saeyoung and the rest of the RFA would react if they heard Saeran giggle genuinely for the first time. BOI I WOULD DIE TO HEAR HIS GIGGLE LIKE THAT EIEVEKEBEKEDJ
The RFA after party was in full swing.
shortage of alcohol or snacks in sight, Saeyoung and Zen argued over what should be the next song played through the loudspeakers, the choices being either a love ballad or
flitted around Saeran, wanting to make conversation but also intimidated by his
stoic facade. Meanwhile, Jaehee preyed
on the booze, drinking away her sorrows, as Jumin wandered around, deciding
that zig-zagging across the room was a fun activity to do while in his current
However, there was another, unforeseen participant: a cloud of white fur, plodding along
beneath tables, entwining itself in people’s legs.
It is rumored that Vanderwood was the one who smuggled her into the room before disappearing himself, but to
this day how she got there remains the biggest mystery of that night.
Elly eventually found herself right in the middle of the room, a large space without any tables or chairs, where Jumin had been busy changing directions every few steps. By reflex, he immediately reached down to pat her small head, bending over at the waist because he apparently forgot that knees existed to facilitated crouching.
Cat Sensor went off, just as Zen sneezed in his face, his eyes already swelling up. But Seven did not pay any
attention to Zen’s oncoming reaction, and instead fixed his glasses, their lenses briefly
reflecting one of the ceiling lights. He stared straight at Elly, a coy smile curling
around the edges of his lips.
Elly’s Saeyoung Sensor went off, and she stared at the advancing redhead,
a shiver running down her spine.
started to pet the air, still in his weird awkwardly-bent butt-in-the-air pose, and Saeyoung zoomed past him. To a spectator, they looked like a large orange blob chasing after a much
smaller white blob.
Jaehee could not care less for the welfare of the cat, as she
was busy snapping pictures of the sneezing Zen. Yoosung seemed like he
was about to have a mental breakdown, looking back and forth between the
colored blobs whizzing around the room and Saeran, who remained as impassive as
ever. Jumin remained where he was, now cooing at nothing.
then, as abrupt as they had begun, things came to a stop.
and Zen were currently a few feet away from Jumin’s upturned bottom,
slowly making their way back to the tables. Yoosung and Saeran looked on at
them from the side, and Elly ran between Jumin’s legs, Seven following
a grown man, his outstretched hands in an attempt to grab a cat, was not meant to
fit in the few inches of space between another, equally grown man’s legs. Thus, instead of grabbing
Elly, he grabbed the bottom of the CEO-in-line’s pants, and barreled right into Jumin’s legs.
The laws of motion activated, Jumin was swept off his feet, landing spread-eagle on his back, his pants completely gone, as they were now clutched in Seven’s hands.
Elly jumped on top of Jumin’s chest, who seemed to have passed out, and mewed loudly.
pants,” Saeyoung whispered after a moment of silence, a mixture of awe and horror in his voice.
timid giggled grew louder, and everyone turned to look at the one member who
had not spoken a single word the entire night, a light pink tinge blossoming across his cheeks, tears of merriment in his eyes.
“Hehe…hahaha.” Saeran’s shoulders quivered with laughter, a
hand over his mouth, “I-idiot brother, hehehehe.”
stared at him, now also crying because Saeran is giggling????! Jaehee didn’t know whether she should pay
attention to this phenomenon, Zen’s leaky nose, or her boss’s neon pink
underpants. Zen dimly registered the sound of Saeran’s laughter, but his eyes were drawn back to the sight of #cashmoney Jumin-but-without-the-pants.
meanwhile, decided to let his emotions get the better of him and launched an
aerial hug attack at Saeran, which prompted Saeyoung to scramble to his feet and do the same; except that his starting point was more than ten feet away so he ended up knocking both
Saeran and Yoosung onto their backs, landing atop the both of them.
Zen began to cry because he was already having nightmares about Jumin’s bulge, and Jaehee gave up trying to decide what to do and simply collapsed on the floor, wondering what other colors of underwear Jumin possessed.
off, stupid brother,” Saeran said, his brow furrowed, voice muffled by Seven’s sweater. But there was an expression of muted happiness on his face, and his attempts to free himself were rather weak.
Hugs are…nice…he finally decided, and closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle warmth surrounding him.
promised that he would pants everyone in Korea if it meant that he could see
Saeran laugh if just one more time.
he also planned on raiding Jumin’s boxer stash at some point whoops
In 1795, a time capsule was buried containing numerous artifacts of the American Revolution to be opened in 2017. For 222 years it remained under the earth at Mt. Vernon. Among the items included were early drafts of the Declaration of Independence, the tools that crafted the Liberty Bell, and Thomas Jefferson’s fingernail clippings. But far more interesting than all was a handwritten letter by Jimmy Solsmith, age 9 at the time of his writing. It was an account of Washington’s visit to Jimmy’s small village in Virginia on August 8th, 1789, and for anyone interested in American history, it is truly magical. It is here presented in its entirety without alteration:
I write to you upon this date of Auguste the Eighth in the Year of our Lord 1789 to recount the events of to-day, in which George Washington himself did visit my small home town of Billsburgshire, Virginia among his United States of America.
The visit began in the morn as the presidential caravan entered through our village gates. Our first president Washington rode atop the caravan and did wave to the public, who greeted him with great fervor and good tidings. What surprised me moste was his stature. George Washington was well over six feet tall, and had a musculature to equal a great strong mule. As he waved, the meat of his arms did ripple with power and many a lady did swoon upon seeing his chest, which he unbuttoned his overcoat to reveal.
Washington for a brief time stepped down from his carriage to shake hands and greet the townspeople. It was as though a wave of glee rippled across us all. But that wave was cut short when an quake of the Earth struck us. The shivers of the ground unsettled most houses and collapsed the church’s steeple, which had been completed only a year prior. Washington calmed us all with soothing words but the quake was not over, nay, a great rift began to form, parting the earth in several places. From the largest of these muddy wounds came flames, and with them sparks like those of a smithy’s shop.
From the fyre did emerge what appeared at first to be an ox, but as it pour further from the soil we beheld it had the body of a man, the tail of a sea-beest, and several arms. In two of its hands it held swords, sickled like those who fought the crusaders. In a bellowing voice the monstere declared, “I have come for you, George Washington!” The president leapt toward it with a great bound and his voice did bellow, “Come take me, thou ox beest from Hell!” and the two did fight.
The violence was magnificent and terrible. Washington, having pulled a long sword from his trousers, fought the demon hand to hand for well over thirty minutes, as it growled. He beckoned again, “Come at me, brother, is that all thou hast got? Get thou some of this!”
His victory over the monstere was all but assured when the skies opened up and the beest’s brethren from the sky rained upon the village with fury and fyre. No less than twenty more of the things came forth from their ships-that-sail-upon-air. And these did have rifles that shot glowing pellets, and devices that threw flames upon us and our cherished leader. Washington would have none of it. He tore off his shirtpiece and by the shiver of his muscles beat down the creatures! And as they died at his hand, they burst into ashes.
It was then that the mother of these sky ships landed and disgorged a greater beest, akin to the others but with many tentacles and slimy appendages, and also its eyes did glow with blue flame. It spoke disrespectfully to George Washington our founder, stating, “Bring it, thou mother-fucker, it’s time to bringeth the pain.” Washington replied in kind, “Bitch, thou knowest nothing of pain.” And with one of the animals’ weapons he assaulted the mother beest and shot a vast hole in its chest, from which poured burning oil. As the monstere died under his boot, Washington took my elder sister Chastity by the arm and dipped her down as if in a dance, and to her great amazement and glee did kiss her powerfully, all as he held his weapon high and a bald eagle did land upon his shoulder.
Washington finally left our village and we began to rebuild, all the while speaking of his great feats of majestic saving power.
Dadsona sighs endearingly, rubbing Hugo’s hand with both of his own. “What could you possibly have to fear? She’s your student, Hugo.”
The other father groans and uses his free hand to cover his face. “She’s your daughter.”
“I’m not nervous around Ernest.”
“Ernest is barely a person.”
It’s the first time Amanda will be visiting home since she left for college. Being so far from home, they decided it would be best for her to return only when she absolutely had to, and the first opportunity was winter break. Her entire first semester is already finished, and although they kept in constant contact over phone and skype, nothing can compare to Dadsona’s excitement to see his daughter again.
His boyfriend, on the other hand, is close to losing his mind.
She Daydreams Ancient Sands - by DA & words by Kyrah
Look upon these trails of paint, which surrounds the Amarna, the undulated, bright core of a lost time, in the center of History! I was created by a mighty Pharaoh and his gracious Queen, over the sands, which buried the main meaning of the Lovers Art… is still there. Look upon me, stare at me fiercely, with passion, as if I am a remarkable jewel…the one whose life, gave birth to the other ones, they who, erected monuments of stone… displayed under the brightness. Once maybe I was green, once maybe, I was made to feed the weeds over these borders but now, I’m arid, yet I am persistent and brave, so far away from the other beings regarded as gods. I don’t need to be praised as an impulsive force which push all to worship. No, I’m only one…I am Aten. I am the sun. I am life. I am the rays, which brings hope to these sands. My trails are all floods of emotions, my steps lead to a Superior Being… not to be remembered as if I was once only a memory, no… I was created to flourish even under the hot flames of a unknown desert. I was created to be tasted, to be a song, to be the inspiration of an Artist ,the one who makes History when he touches the brushes and feel the heat…the sweat slipping over his fingers…I’m a melody, I’m an eagle flying over this land of dunes, this land of scorpions and creatures old as I. So, as the Artist shaped, touched, engraved, over the Monument of Amarna, me a simple little being, embarked in waves, trying to understand this chain of reaction, in a inhospitable land where only the brave ones, only an Artist dared to be dazzled even the ones who built huge pyramids, the ones who desired to be remembered — me, the desert, these mighty kings and the master of all inks and paints, were there for time gone. We are there still buried, but no matter, the winds of history lead mankind. The master of Amarna will be remembered as the only god, the one who gave the simple touch to rewrite History in a Painting where all of us may tell ours stories. The sands, the wind, the oasis are still proof to the lovers of Art. These sands of colors are feelings, a single drop of heat in forgotten gods and kings. The Artist will always be…the soul of such beauty, in a gallery of ancient and modern times. So behold the Painting and glimpse the power of the desert!