What The Red Means

let me tell you a story…

it just makes me soo like wilbur didnt want to be a father at first and now he's teaching tallulah to love because he believes it triumphs over everything...he wants to protect her with a thin wall between her and reality, from everything complicated, from fighting up close, in order to be safe. Safe enough to live, and to never face anything that could destroy love. It won't last forever, something will throw a wrench in that. Whether she runs into danger regardless, or she watches him from afar (just like he taught her, with the bow) dying for her. Whether her family is ripped from her, or she believes one day love isn't enough.

as I watched the oral delivery this crossed my mind. I didn’t have this exact words but i did think how strange in a good way it is that South Africans donned the attire of empire and it’s rules and came with knowledge, professionalism, expertise, integrity and justice, and used the structures of global western order and slam dunked it (for me, while the verdict will tell us the health of international humanitarian law, the victory was in the compelling case SA showed). A black man in dreads, a brown woman with her brown girl nose, proud and clear and here to fuck shit up. And our officials donning keffiyehs and rainbow nation scarves. A side of the court of all races and colours while on the other side… the symbolism of all of it will be talked about for generations . *chef’s kiss*

Tone it down you guys

in case it wasn’t clear i love the people of yemen with my whole heart. may allah protect them and grant them victory

(via RNN)

sherlock gets bored between cases (lonely, mrs hudson thinks, but he scoffs when she tells him so), and he starts tinkering with things around the flat. even though he makes a mess, she generally doesn’t mind because when he’s done pulling things apart, he usually puts them back together again, mostly in the right order. and on occasion things even end up put together a little better than before. the latch on the sitting room door no longer sticks. the tap in the bath no longer drips. the door on the oven no longer squeaks.

but then lestrade calls while the pieces of the kitchen lamp are still strewn across the table and the worktop, while dark wires still snake down from the ceiling, precarious and ready to bite. sherlock’s only halfway done with the tinkering and not at all done with the putting back together, but there’s a case, and it’s a beautiful one–a body in a place it wasn’t meant to be, a piece of evidence that leads them in a circle rather than in a straight line to a suspect, a motive, an arrest–and sherlock has no interest in the inner workings of kitchen lamps when he has the inner workings of a murder to pull apart instead. 

it takes days to even begin to solve, and every time mrs hudson comes up to dust or to trade out a fresh sandwich for the untouched one she’d left the day before, she presses the switch out of habit and is greeted by a shower of angry golden sparks. sherlock holmes, she demands around the drum of her heart against her fragile ribs, but he’s too caught up in the labyrinth of the case, in the sticky mire of his own head to even hear her. so she does what any sensible landlady would do when faced with the aftermath of a bored consulting detective: she gets a man in. 

she plucks his name out of the telephone directory because she knew a watson once, and he was a solid and dependable sort. when she phones, the voice on the other end of the line is a little distant, a little sad perhaps, but cordial enough, and he agrees to come round today if she doesn’t mind that it might not be until late. she tries to warn sherlock, but she’s sure he hasn’t heard. at least with a case on, there’s only a slim chance he’ll be sheet-clad when the electrician arrives–they don’t need a repeat of the plumber incident. still, she thinks, the fright would serve sherlock right for leaving her kitchen in such a state. nevertheless, when the man knocks on the door at half four, she leads him upstairs herself, sure to step in all the places that squeak, to knock, to open the door slowly so sherlock isn’t caught unaware. she half-expects him to still be nearly catatonic in his chair, knees tucked up under his chin, a habit that makes him look so endearingly young. but instead she finds him at the window, the afternoon light warming his skin and streaking the dark smudge of his hair with fiery mahogany. oh, sherlock dear, she says as the electrician limps up the last of the stairs, this man’s here to see about the–

sparks. 

the word slips out of john watson’s mouth on a whisper of breath as he stutters to a stop in the doorway. mrs hudson’s brow wrinkles, yes exactly, that’s what… she turns back to sherlock to find him similarly frozen and wide-eyed, a gentle blush blossoming in his cheeks. …i was going to… and back to john just as he starts to come back to himself, pulling his shoulders back and his spine up straighter, looking almost as if he doesn’t even need the cane in his hand.

right, she says, the hint of a smile curling around the word. i’ll just… she slips around john watson, throwing a glance back over her shoulder as sherlock flutters into motion, hurrying off toward the kitchen and offering to clear away some of the mess gathered there. her feet are light on the steps as she continues back down to her flat, the grin across her mouth growing bolder. she shuts her door tight and turns up the telly.

sherlock holmes and john watson. 

sparks indeed.

America: Scotland! Hey dude, I just wanted to get your permission for me to marry England?

Scotland: What is this, the dark ages? You know what? Since you asked me, no you can't. Beat me in a duel first.

Hind Rajab was a 5 year old girl in Gaza who was killed while she hid alone in a car, along with the paramedics who tried to rescue her. Yesterday students at Columbia seized the administration building and renamed it in her honor.

Gadzooks Bazooka Instagram: gadzooks_bazooka

Remembering #HindRajab & children in #Gaza: This is what the mother of the child, Hind Rajab . https://tmblr.co/ZTeZMyfB_GHeeu00

DrSonnet — هذا ما قالته والدة الطفلة هند رجب عندما سمعت بخبر... (tumblr.com)

If only I were stronger still