#lapsi

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

James R. Adair et al. - We Found Our Way Out - Baker Book House - 1975

[kiimaisetmuumipeikot]

Kertomus näkymättömästä lapsesta:

[anirobot]

Pohjoiskarjalaisen metsätien alta löytyi ainutlaatuinen kivikautinen hauta – kuollut lapsi oli aseteltu höyhenpedille koiran kanssa

Arkeologien mukaan Outokummun Majoonsuolta löytynyt muinainen hauta kuului pienelle lapselle. Mikroskooppisista paloista on voitu rakentaa kuva siitä, kuinka vainajia on kunnioitettu kivikaudella.

The grave was dug near the settlement and painted with red ochre. The child's body was laid to rest on a feather bed. He took arrows with him and a dog on his leg as a resting companion.

The child was between the ages of 3 and 10 at the time of death.

This may have been the situation when the grave was dug in the Stone Age at the current day Majoonsuo in Outokumpu in Northern Karelia.

[onthestraightandnarrowpath]

Oh, Holden. 

A little snapshot based on @threemissinggirls‘ series Case by Case (this is from a scene in the second installment). Guys, it’s so good, if you like crime drama and detectiving and stuff, give it a read.

[hauskojakuvia]

alkaa nousta lähikuva muotokuva tyttö

[i-am-not-anon]

​Istun päiväkodin pikkupöydässä. Minusta pöytä oli tosi hieno kun näin sen eka kertaa, kun se on kiva ja jalat yltää maahan. 

Istun pienessä tuolissa, lautasellinen jauhelihaspagettia edessäni muovisella lautasella. Sen vieressä on muovimuki puolillaan maitoa.

Toisella puolella minua istuu hoitaja, kehottaen minua jatkamaan syömistä. Muut ovat jo lopettaneet, ja istun pöydässä yksin hänen kanssaan. 

Kotona spagetti ja jauheliha on tosi hyvää, mutta tämä on väärän makuista. Ei tee mieli päästä jälkiruokaan, joka on rahkaa. Kotona ei ikinä ole rahkaa.

Taputan lattiaa jalalla, jossa on äidin ostamat punaiset päiväkotitossut. Niiden nahkapohjat ovat kivan pehmoiset.

Seinälle on kiinnitetty värikäs juliste, jossa koirahahmo pitelee maitolasia. Se on kiva kuva. Koirasta lähtee pallo, jossa on kirjoitusta jonka jätän huomiotta, enhän osaa vielä lukea. 

Hoitotäti muistuttaa, että kahden haarukallisen jälkeen pääsen jatkamaan leikkejä. Ei minulla ole kiire. 

Eskarilaiset saavat jo ottaa ruokansa itse. He pääsevät myös retkelle laavulle. Eskarit ovat tosi isoja. 

Jos hoitotäti ei käskisi, voisin kaataa spagetit sankoon joka viedään tädin koiralle. Haluaisin nähdä sen koiran mutta sitä ei saa tuoda päiväkotiin. 

Sitten laittaisin lautasen sankoon viereen ja mukin myös ja muistaisi kiittää ruoasta ennen kuin astun käytävään. 

Mutta yhtä hyvin voin myös istua tässä. 

Aurinko paistaa ikkunasta sisään verhon läpi ja luo hassun liikkuvan varjon lattialle. Kuljetan jalkaani sitä pitkin ja varjokuvio siirtyy jalalleni, myötäillen sen muotoa. Katson jalkani varjoa, joka näyttää hullunkuriselta eläimeltä kun liikutaan varpaitani. Kuin käärme. 

[swissmissficrecs]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Word count: 52,734 Parts: 4 Fandom: Mindhunter (TV 2017) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench Characters: Bill Tench, Wendy Carr, Holden Ford, Edmund Kemper Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dialogue Heavy, Mentions of Murder, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Period-Typical Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Victim Blaming, Infidelity, BDSM, Unhealthy Relationships, True Crime, Consent Issues Summary:

Set directly after the season one finale. Bill Tench tries to get to the bottom of what happened at Vacaville.

======

Rec: So many times as I was reading this, I just had to pause and have a little shiver because there are so many perfectly written moments. This is the kind of writing, the kind of fic, that makes me envious. It’s smart. Brisk. Authoritative. Incisive. Takes the canon and gets inside it, expands it and makes it better. Sets up home in the characters’ heads and teases out their dark corners, coaxes things out that you might not have thought of at first but that now make perfect sense.

One thing I like about this story in particular is that it doesn’t just go for the perfect happy ending resolution with all ends wrapped up. (This does veer away from series 2, although it incorporates the main storyline.) Many things are left open-ended, the characters are far from okay and life is still messy but it feels right and like justice has been done to the characters and their relationships.

[sutoraiiku]

@wieldblood​​ said: 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝, 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦, "𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫... 𝐠-𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝."

    The golden adorned slayer sat quietly in the darkened room. The other’s had fallen asleep easily, but he couldn’t get himself to rest his eyes, despite being exhausted. Sparing a glance at his snoozing companions, heavy thoughts began weighing down on him before he slouched forward in his designated futon. 

    Feelings of insecurity and doubt taunted him, reminding him of instances that made him shrink in discomfort, and provoking negativities concerning any notion of a future he might grasp at. Tired eyes fixed on his hands, twirling a blue-eyed grass bloom gently. A sigh escaped him. He was so lost to his own cognition, that he didn’t notice when the girl approached him. Only when she cupped his face delicately did he blink up at her. It took him several moments, but he finally registered her presence, the edge of his lip twitched and his features warmed gently.

    The words that escaped her... He was certain she wasn’t speaking of the flower in his hand.. Her gaze was fixed on his own. He.. was the flower..? She thought he was good?? It suddenly occurred to him that she was trying to comfort him, and that he was noticeably moping. That being said, he felt a tear roll down his cheek, and his expression abruptly scrunched up, betraying him and reeking of his overwhelming despondence.

    The remark, little as it may seem, MEANT THE WORLD TO HIM. It was genuine, and the sound radiating from her entity seemed sad, but loving.. Concerned. Leaning into her touch, he dropped the delicate bloom and raised a hand to cover that belonging to her. Despite finding himself unable to vocalize it, his eyes sparkled with gratitude. She.. They.. Cared for him in tender ways he’s never experienced. Ways he’s always desperately longed for. And it helped ease away the pain and anxiety he felt.. The uncertainties that branded his thoughts and painted reality in a disturbing light. He loved them so much. They were his family.

“ Nezuko.. ”