"Hamish" - a Sherlock/John ficlet
Pairing: Sherlock/John [well-established relationship]
Rating: G [Romantic and familial love and Awwwwwwwwww]
Sherlock himself had never wanted this, never expected it, actively avoided it at all costs. But then the Universe had presented John Watson, and suddenly every fibre of Sherlock’s being had been infused with new desires, new life.
And even, to his immense surprise, the desire FOR new life. Something he could call forth into being. Something new.
Mycroft had been less skeptical than either he or John might have feared. Thank God his older brother nurtured a sentimental streak underneath his exterior of tweed-covered steel. And thank God, too, that Mycroft had always felt guilty for his complete refusal to produce darling, photogenic grandchildren for Mummy.
Over a series of weeks, Mycroft and Sherlock had winnowed the list of potential surrogates down to five, then three, then two. John was given the final choice. Sherlock had hoped John would pick the blue-eyed woman with hair nearly John’s color and skin which hinted at the rose hue he saw in John’s face during the man’s most tender and beautiful moments. Instead, predictably, John had chosen the slender, pale, dark-haired woman — the one who most resembled the love of John H. Watson’s life.
Each of the men had provided their “contributions to the cause,” as John had jokingly put it. To be honest, Sherlock had nearly considered opting out of that; yes, he wanted to create new life, but for him, that life could just as easily flow from John’s DNA and still be, without a doubt, part of Sherlock’s body and soul. Every living part of Dr. John H. Watson was connected to Sherlock’s body and soul, now. Connected inextricably. Forever.
Sherlock didn’t ask for DNA testing at any stage. And somehow, he even managed to pretend that he was glad when the child arrived with a mass of dark curls, prominent cheekbones, and an obvious pale cast to his skin. The love pouring from John at the moment they first held their son radiated out of John’s fingertips and tear-filled eyes, out of every beautiful pore, and it softened the stabs of disappointment Sherlock felt.
"Hamish," Sherlock had whispered. "His name will be Hamish, after you."
John didn’t bother to wipe away his own tears. “No, Sherlock, we’d already decided—”
"He’s your son, John. Our son. Let me give him this part of you, too."
John had only swallowed and nodded, too overcome to speak.
Sherlock studied the small creature in John’s arms. Truly, the child was beautiful, even now. He could see him growing into a slender, brooding, well-dressed young man. Sherlock would be “Father,” no doubt. John had claimed “Dad” with Sherlock’s full blessing.
Gently, Sherlock caressed the tiny face. The baby’s eyes would be blue for a while yet, but Sherlock knew what they would become. He could only hope that the eyes would not have the coldness that had plagued the man who was obviously the boy’s biological father.
He will have my physical form, even, perhaps, my intellect, Sherlock thought. But please, he pleaded to an unknown and unseen force in the Universe, Please let him have John’s heart.
Word Count: 1,011
Disclaimer: Fanfiction for fun, not for profit. Batman belongs to DC.
Summary: Title taken from the classic ”Wee Willie Winkie” lullaby (modern lyrics as sung to my niece when she was small). Pointless baby!Damian fluff to celebrate the fact that there is now a blog (http://bbydamianwayne.tumblr.com/) devoted to the collection of all things baby!Damian (which pleases me greatly).
“Is that … ?”
“Yep,” Steph serenely turned the page of her magazine, eying a blatantly awkward display of Photoshop with distaste.
Tim cautiously worked his way around the outer edge of the room, careful to leave a good six feet between him and the small figure face-down on the floor. When he was standing next to the loveseat and that delicate operation had not set off the imminent apocalypse, Tim frowned. “What happened?”
“Dick’s going with magic, but Bruce refuses to rule out questionable science.”
So they didn’t know anything yet. It happened sometimes—even to the Batmen.
A loaf of bread made in the first century AD, which was discovered at Pompeii, preserved for centuries in the volcanic ashes of Mount Vesuvius. The markings visible on the top are made from a Roman bread stamp, which bakeries were required to use in order to mark the source of the loaves, and to prevent fraud. (via Ridiculously Interesting)
(sigh) I’ve seen these before, but this one’s particularly beautiful.
I feel like I’m supposed to be marveling over the fact that this is a loaf of bread that’s been preserved for thousands of years, and don’t get me wrong, that’s hella cool. But honestly, I’m mostly struck by the unexpected news that “bread fraud” was apparently once a serious concern.
Bread Fraud was a huge thing, Bread was provided to the Roman people by the government - bakers were given grain to make the free bread, but some of them stole the government grain to use in other baked goods and would add various substitutes, like sawdust or even worse things, to the bread instead. So if people complained that their free bread was not proper bread, the stamp told them exactly whose bakery they ought to burn down.
Bread stamps continued to be used at least until the Medieval period in Europe. Any commercially sold bread had to be stamped with an official seal to identify the baker to show that it complied with all rules and regulations about size, price, and quality. This way, rotten or undersized loaves could be traced back to the baker. Bakers could be pilloried, sent down the streets in a hurdle cart with the offending loaf tied around their neck, fined, or forbidden to engage in baking commercially ever again in that city. There are records of a baker in London being sent on a hurdle cart because he used an iron rod to increase the weight of his loaves, and another who wrapped rotten dough with fresh who was pilloried. Any baker hurdled three times had to move to a new city if they wanted to continue baking.
If you have made bread, you are probably familiar with a molding board. It’s a flat board used to shape the bread. Clever fraudsters came up with a molding board that had a little hole drilled into it that wasn’t easily noticed. A customer would buy his dough by weight, and then the baker would force some of that dough through the hole, so they could sell and underweight loaf and use the stolen dough to bake new loafs to sell. Molding boards ended up being banned in London after nine different bakers were caught doing this. There were also instances of grain sellers withholding grain to create an artificial scarcity drive up the price of that, and things like bread.
Bread, being one of the main things that literally everyone ate in many parts of the world, ended up with a plethora of rules and regulations. Bakers were probably no more likely to commit fraud than anyone else, but there were so many of them, that we ended up with lots and lots of rules and records of people being shifty.
Check out Fabulous Feasts: Medieval Cookery and Ceremony by Madeleine Pelner Cosman for a whole chapter on food laws as they existed in about 1400. Plus the color plates are fantastic.
Bread is serious fucking business.
bread is STILL serious fucking business
I recently had to deal with a sack of flour that had been half replaced with soap powder. No jokes.
Another really good and informative book about bread’s significance and place in history is 6000 Years Of Bread! It’s fairly academic, but a fascinating topic and an engaging read.
you guys found out the history of bread
FOOD HISTORY IS THE FUCKING BEST SHUT UP DON’T EVEN LOOK AT ME
(Source: wine-loving-vagabond, via storiesintheashes)
Anonymous asked: Traught Artemis/Dick
Who cooks: Artemis. Dick has tried to, but only once and that resulted in the fire alarms going off, and Dick aiming a fire extinguisher at his frying pan. The only time Dick ever “cooks” is when he’s making himself a bowl of cereal.
Who does the laundry and other chores: They both do. It’s a matter of who has the time to get things done around the house. Sometimes that’s hard, because when do either of them really have the time between college and being vigilantes.
How many children do they have: None. They’re in college and way too busy to be worrying about children.
Who’s more dominate: Dick, although Artemis takes him by surprise on more then one occasion.
Favorite nonsexual activity: Besides being on the Team, Dick and Artemis like playing on old school game systems. Pac-Man, Super Mario Brother, you name it.
Their favorite place to be together: When Artemis moved to Gotham, Dick (before she knew he was also Nightwing) showed her this park in Uptown Gotham. They tend to go there whenever they can.
Any traditions: Artemis got Dick to take off one night a week so they can have “date night”. Usually it’s nothing special, just both of them watching a movie or something where they can spend time together.
Their “song”: Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls
What they do for each other on holidays: They’re both not too fond about going out and spending money on each other. Instead, they decorate the house, and bake (well, more Artemis then Dick because of the reasons already stated; but Dick has become a pro at mixing stuff together).
Where did they go for their honeymoon: Bruce, being the man with money, paid for them to go spend a week in the Bahamas.
Where did they first meet: Team mission (YJ Season 1)
Any pets: They don’t have any pets, in fear that they won’t be home that much to take care of it.
What do they fight over: When Artemis gets upset at Dick, it’s usually over not being open and honest with her. There were many nights that Dick came home with really brutal injuries, and would brush it off and say he was fine. Dick gets mad at Artemis for overworking herself with her schoolwork.
Do they go on vacations, if so where: When they do have time for vacations, its usually close to Gotham; in case they need to save the city or the world, or something.
Rage/Confusion Mark III: The Sciences Sing a Lullabye - Albert Goldbarth -
Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.
Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.
— Albert Goldbarth, The Sciences Sing a Lullabye
(Source: mitochondria, via storiesintheashes)
Neuroscience: Synesthesia May Explain Healers Claims of Seeing People's 'Aura' -
ScienceDaily (May 4, 2012) — Researchers in Spain have found that at least some of the individuals claiming to see the so-called aura of people actually have the neuropsychological phenomenon known as “synesthesia” (specifically, “emotional synesthesia”). This might be a scientific explanation of their alleged ability.
New research suggests that at least some of the individuals claiming to see the so-called aura of people actually have the neuropsychological phenomenon known as “synesthesia” (specifically, “emotional synesthesia”). This might be a scientific explanation of their alleged ability. (Credit: © Nikki Zalewski / Fotolia)
In synesthetes, the brain regions responsible for the processing of each type of sensory stimuli are intensely interconnected. Synesthetes can see or taste a sound, feel a taste, or associate people or letters with a particular color.
The study was conducted by the University of Granada Department of Experimental Psychology Óscar Iborra, Luis Pastor and Emilio Gómez Milán, and has been published in the journal Consciousness and Cognition. This is the first time that a scientific explanation has been provided for the esoteric phenomenon of the aura, a supposed energy field of luminous radiation surrounding a person as a halo, which is imperceptible to most human beings.
That’s actually a theory incorporated into M-theory (string theory)
Sorry, I just used the word theory three times.
Basically, there is a possibility, if string theory is correct and atoms are actually made up of tiny strings vibrating in 10 dimensions, we could have infinite parallel universes inside each and every quark contained in our body. We’re huge to them, and tiny to the universe WE are contained in.
How bout that? There could be billions upon trillions of creatures, things, worlds, inside each atom inside us. Infinite universes in one quark.
Mia your geek is showing.
This is why I study physics.
…whoah. brb, contemplating this forever.
So does that mean that when we die all those billions of universes and creatures die within us?
Read Stephen King’s The Dark Tower. All of you. Now.