4,000 year old children's rattle beautifully crafted as bear cub's head: and it still rattles!

The remarkable discovery of one of the oldest toys in the world came from excavations at a Bronze Age settlement in modern-day Novosibrirsk region.

Inside it - and it remains sealed - are little stones ‘that make a jingling sound’, said Professor Vyacheslav Molodin, deputy head of Novosibirsk Institute of Archeology and Ethnography.

He told The Siberian Times: 'This is a clay rattle with a visible well-made handle - handy for a child to hold it. It was constructed by clay firing, it is hollow inside. There are little stones inside. We don’t know what kind of stones these are, but we will be doing an X-ray to find out. The rattle is still working.’

The exciting find at the Vengerovo-2 archaeological complex dates to the third millennium BC, making it between 3,800 and 4,000 years old. Might it even include the sculptor’s signature? Read more.

Low-Approval Solas: “You’re Addicted to the Fade”

Solas: To what do I owe the pleasure?

Quiz: Tell me something. Do you care about anything in the world beyond the Fade?

Solas: Ah.

Quiz: Ah?

Solas: The Inquisitor turns her hawk-like gaze to me, penetrating deep into my most secret desires. Only… Not. I care deeply for many things beyond the Fade. Just not you.

Quiz: You’re going to want to watch that attitude, Solas.

Solas: Why? Do you have another expert on the Fade hiding around here? Are you absolutely certain you won’t need me? I volunteered to help, Inquisitor. Rattle the bars if you like, but I chose to enter this cage.

Guys, it is so hard to stick with this low-approval playthrough. I want to love on him so bad. I literally feel like I’m driving him to his inevitable destiny.

(This is not intended to be a Solas-critical post. This is just to show a side of him that many ride or die Solas fans won’t see in their playthroughs.)

Deranged: Part 1

Originally posted by taehyungifs

“Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.” -Stephen King

Warning: Will contain smut, violence and tense situations in later chapters


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there are no depths in
this body. this body is

an ocean where nothing
exists below the surface.

yes there is
beneath the skin.
inside the skull.
rattling the nerves. but

no depths. no sea to drown
what should be drowned.

A day late on Reptile Awareness Day but I wanted to show a wild Timber and also to those who are afraid please just back up slowly and walk away if you ever encounter one. This girl here who I named “Black Beauty” stood her ground but not once did she strike.. in fact shortly before this she didn’t even rattle. She was scared and wanted nothing to do with me. #reptileawarenessday #timberrattlesnake

Made with Instagram

I’m feeling kinda cranky (for no good reason) and tired (maybe that’s why I feel cranky) and even though I had today’s story planned out and was ready to write it, I just have zero energy or motivation to do it now, so I guess that’s the end of my (short-lived) streak of being on time with my smooch prompts! :U

I’ll work on it tomorrow, I’m sure, but right now, I think it’s bed time.

Further thinking on what episode 2 conjured up about male victims of sexual abuse

So, a lot of us are still rattled by what Toni did to Sam, and rightly so I think.
I think our reasoning for being so disgusted with the treatment of him is deeper than what happened though, because I think it has raised questions in a lot of us about how male (and often female) victims of sexual assault are realistically treated as though what happened to them is somehow their fault because on some basal level, even when their consent was dubious at best, they physically enjoyed it. It shines a light on the disconnect between our bodies and our rational and emotional minds, and how a lot of people wrongfully lump them in together. A lot of people STILL feel right in assuming that a dude getting physically turned on is always a green light even though technically he is saying no, because if he is ultimately big and strong enough to fight off his rapist, it can never be rape. There’s something very wrong with that train of thought though. Because if he is incapacitated mentally or physically, if there is even the possibility that this is not what he would want in his right frame of mind, it’s still rape!
The sad thing is that we have to deconstruct what happened, and swap a male perspective for a female one to even start to make some people see that this was rape in some form!

Let’s put ourselves in Sam’s shoes with a captor we are basically physically attracted to, even though we hate them and know full well has stood by to watch us get BRUTALLY tortured. Sam is a big strong man and Toni is a petite woman, so to make this argument fair, let’s say our captor has something physically wrong with him that puts him on a level that means at one point we were able to overpower him.
But we let him go because we didn’t want to murder him.
Then he makes us believe that we are suddenly having good consensual sex, which we didn’t see coming but we are enjoying, because it suddenly looks like he might be on our side. He didn’t actually partake in any of the original torture after all, he just enabled it. He even looked tired of it and like he might not want to do it at one point. So somehow he has won us over. But in between the pleasure of the tryst, while our defences are down, he is asking us questions about our lives. Then we realise this must actually be some kind of alternate reality, because really, how could you be sleeping with the person that had you tied to a chair and tortured ruthlessly only yesterday?
Then we come to, to discover that we are in fact STILL tied to a chair, still beaten, burned, shot, and water tortured. The entire sex thing was actually our captor poking around in our brain using a spell.
Then the captor smirks and asks “was it good for you?” because they enjoyed the deception, and they are revelling in the fact that they know full well that we physically enjoyed having sex we thought we consented to when in fact we were being tortured in a different way.
But you know, it wasn’t rape because we enjoyed it. Even though we are disgusted with them, and ourselves, it wasn’t rape because dudes can’t get raped- they enjoy sex too much.
You can’t honestly say that that it isn’t victim blaming. You can’t honestly persuade me that you don’t sound exactly like the sleazy men who say a girl was ‘asking for it’ because of the way she was dressed.
I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t consider this as rape until I honestly thought about the same thing happening to me as a woman, and that is wrong.

This episode has got a powerful fan reaction because like Supernatural often does, it’s maybe unwittingly put a morally grey area under a microscope and drawn attention to a 'consistently swept under a rug’ and very ugly attitude towards male abuse victims in society.
Maybe Sam really is an avatar for our treatment of men who are violated or subjugated or belittled for their attitude, and expected to just 'get over it’ and 'man up’ simply because they are men.
Maybe the fact that they never address his abuse, they never let him be angry without him being perceived as being 'bitchy’ or 'whiny’ or flat out make a joke out of him is really just them holding up a mirror to an aspect of our culture that is gross and needs to change.
No wonder we didn’t like it!
It’s compelling TV though, I think it was pretty powerful to be honest.

anonymous asked:

Number 7 with underfell sans and papyrus.

7. While telling stories around a campfire, Person A swears they hear a sound coming from the forest’s underbrush. Person B is unconvinced and decides to investigate.

“Boss, I’m not even kidding,” Sans said, desperation in his voice. “There is something in the bushes!” 

Papyrus looked unconvinced, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “Sans, you’re just scared because of the amazing, terrifying story I told just a little bit ago.”

The fire crackled between them, sparks flying into the air. The woods were dark, owls hooting in the distance. The wind howled, rattling tree branches. It was the perfect night for a campfire. 

“Seriously! Just go look if you’re so brave.” Sans crossed his arms, turning away. “If we get eaten by something I’m going to find you in hell and do a jig and sing the ‘I told you so’ song.”

Papyrus scoffed, getting up. “Fine, I’ll do it you big baby.” The taller skeleton made his way to the underbrush, hearing a ruffling sound. 

Sans stiffened from his spot on the log, whipping his head around. “See? There’s something in there!” His voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want to provoke the mysterious being.

Papyrus rolled his eyes, walking into the tall bushes. He disapeared for a little bit. Sans was starting to worry, so he creeped over to the bushes to check.

“B-Boss?” Sans whispered, peeking behind the bushes. “Are you-”

“GAH!” His brother shot out from the bushes, tackling Sans to the ground. Sans felt bony fingers dig into his ribs, causing him to burst out laughing.

“Papyrus? Whahahat are you dohohoing?” Sans asked, trying his best to escape from under his brother. “Stahahap!”

“Are you afraid of the little old tickle monster?” Papyrus teased, tapping and scratching at Sans’ upper rib bones. Sans shrieked, a few birds flying out of the trees because of the loud laughter.

“STAHAHAHAP IT!” Sans pushed his brother off, giggling slightly. “Whahat the fuck, bro?”

Papyrus smirked, standing up and brushing off his pants. “It was a raccoon, dumbass. I just felt like messin’ with you. Put out the fire, I’m ready to go home.”

Sans sighed, rubbing the back of skull. He felt embarrassed about being scared, but also about how his brother had caught him off guard and tickled him.

“Whatever you say, Boss.”
no more please!!

Autumn Court Aesthetics

Trees of red and gold and brown, afire with dying color.

Ancient scrolls and tomes.  Drawings of unsettling things.  Hand-drawn sigils which twist the air.

Cobwebs, dust.   Peeling paint and broken windows.

Stone and wood construction.  Hand-carved, hand-placed, hand-built.

Haunted.  Ethereal.  Eerie.  Timeless.  Eldritch and Arcane.

Witches and warlocks.  Viziers and wise men.  Lorekeepers and 

Untamed, unexplored wilderness.  Dark places which hold dangerous secrets.

The storehouse filled with grain and fruits, gained through hard work and sacrifice.  Sickles and scythes.   

 Corvids, spiders, bats, and wolves.  

Goblins, monsters, skeletons, and undead.  

Dry, chilly wind.  Cold, clammy air which has sat unmoved for decades.

Rattling (leaves, bones, final breaths)

The tingle along your back when something you can’t see is watching you.

The prickle of your scalp as your hair stands on end.

TW: racism, details of racist violence

I happened to find & read this poem by Quan Barry today, before I read that a sign memorializing Emmett Till had been violently defaced. Today. As in, decades later. As in, hearts continue to rattle & this country continues to sleep.

figures would visit me in the night. i musta been seven or eight, one of my handful of memories of that time the trauma-worms havent eaten out of my brain. my bedroom was above the dining room then. this was before the recession, but things were still pretty dilapidated. wish i could say the farm house was ever charming, but i can only ever remember the winters. dry, bleak.

sorry. anyways. there were three of them. they would come in shifts, one at a time, usually standing in my doorway, watching me. there was one, a man with a cowboy hat, who would acknowledge me, tip his hat. that always made me feel nice. the others were not as courteous, but they werent ever frightening. there were other malicious things that rattled the floorboards & whispered through windows & had too many fingers, but they lived outside. couldnt come in.

the two other figures, the skinny man & the lady, were less emotive. sometimes the lady came into my room, sat on the floor near my bed. that was the closest any of them could get. but she didnt ever communicate with me like the man with the cowboy hat did. neither did the skinny man. he was far-off, & always very still.

i could go on. ive got a bestiary in the works. all i can remember are animals & ghosts. but im very sleepy. thank-you for reading. thanks.

«Rose found Cian [the Doctor] sitting in his study, Cardiff brochures spread around. “Rose! I’ve also found a little shop that we can visit after we go to the factory, it will be brilliant! I can’t believe that I’ve never been there before, and it’s in our proverbial back yard! You know, I went through a phase where I was obsessed with jelly babies-”

“I’m pregnant.”

He rattled on, “but you can only have so many of those before you make yourself- Wait, what did you say?” He was on his feet in a second, standing right in front of her.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Rose whispered, “I’m going to have a baby.”

She heard a soft thud, and opened her eyes to find that he had fallen to his knees in front of her. He tentatively reached a hand forward and splayed it on her stomach. After a breathless moment, he looked up at her, beaming, with tears shining in his eyes. He wordlessly pulled her forward and leaned his cheek against her stomach, encircling her with his arms. Rose blinked back her own tears as she combed her fingers through his hair.»

- As the Sun will Rise, by @helplesslynerdy (Chap.11)