Hey guys I’m sorry I was gone for so long! Life just got in the way but I didn’t mean to just drop off the face of the Earth. The last month has been kinda rough and I just needed a little break from a bunch of things. Sorry if anyone felt like I ignored them, because I really didn’t want to make it seem that way. I hope everyone is doing well though! And I’m excited to be back!
Theres a house down the road from me that’s gone all out with lights this year, including two huge spotlights that shoot into the sky- i presume to tell the aliens that ‘tis the season to get jingly
But this has just made me imagine this sort of one-upping the neighbourhood style of making a house the most festive/most like a rave
Only instead of decorating the house, a giant just wears lights- all over themself!
So bright, so noticeable!
The neighbours are never gonna top that light display!!
Timeline: After moving into 221B Baker Street and before the first story
Sam ran along the tabletop, his pulse thudding in his ears as he went.
Another day, another supply run.
Of course, this time was a little different. With Dean’s odd ability, they’d been able to track down some pencil lead for Sam to use to write with, always a hard-to-find commodity even here, in a flat with belongings strewn haphazardly about and a vast treasure trove of supplies for people Sam and Dean’s size.
It was a bit of a risk, with the humans still in the building, but Sam didn’t want to risk the snapped lead vanishing when one of them cleaned up. He’d been able to find enough scraps of paper to form a haphazard journal, but needed something to write with. His old bit of lead was nearly ground to dust.
Two shards of the tip of a pencil were nestled in his leather satchel, bouncing against his side as he ran. Sam made it to the edge of the table, peering down at the floor to see where Dean was, waiting for him to get down. They couldn’t afford them both out in such an exposed place, so Dean, the weaker climber, stayed on the ground.
Instead of using his hook and thread to climb with, Sam took advantage of the chair that was leaning against the edge of the table. A black jacket was draped overtop the chair, and offered Sam more than enough handholds to get himself to the floor. He cautiously began to pick his way down the fabric, occasionally glancing at his surroundings.
Just then, the stairs between the flat and the one upstairs creaked as John descended from his room, tugging on a jumper as he went. He needed to go to the bank, run to town for a few things, and was considering a stop at the pub later that night for a well-needed drink.
And with Sherlock shut in the bathroom preoccupied with his bioluminescent bacteria cultures, without a case on, John had a rare opportunity to slip away.
John was straightening his short, sandy hair, mussed by his jumper, as he entered the main area of the flat.
Nobody really knows how the
alphabetical order came to be.
Some speculate it was adapted
from a series of ancient Egyptian
hieroglyphics, but while linguists
know certain sections of it
(including a,b,c,d,e,f) have stayed
the same since at least the 8th century
BCE, why they originally ended up in
that order is still a mystery. Source
I’ve often thought that if even I lose interest and
passion in dancing, then what would the other members think. So no
matter what choreography it is, I will be the first one to learn it and
then guide the members. That is my role. Even though there are hard
times, I don’t want the members to see it.