Yes This!

Superb

Borrowed Time - a Harry Potter fanvid - gen, drama, ensemble

Stand and fight.

Music is “Borrowed Time” by Richard and Linda Thompson, edited. Made for Paula. Contains character death and flashes.

Devil John

Chapter 6 - Whiskey

Fandom:Sherlock

Rating: Explicit

Excerpt:

“She's leaving us, Harriet. Too good for the likes of us, I guess.” His mother smiles, one of those sad smiles that are meant to reassure, but never do. “At least I have you to depend on, Love. You won't leave me, will you John? Come here.”

She opens her arms and wraps them around him careful to hold her cigarette hand out, so she doesn't burn him. John reaches his left hand around to pat her back as she rests her head against his shirt. A moment later, he feels it grow damp from her tears.

“Don't let this happen to you, Johnny. Find yourself a good gentle wife to settle down with. One that doesn't drink or smoke too much. Then maybe your kids won't hate you and run off.”

“Mum, Harry doesn't hate you.”

“It's all right if she does. I don't blame her for it. And when you finally leave, I won't blame you either.”

John wraps both arms around his mother and holds her tight. “I'm not leaving, Mum. I won't abandon you, not ever.”

“My loyal John. Some girl is going to love that about you. My best, my brightest son.” She kisses his arm. Then everything fades and they are on the grey plane again.

John covers his face with his hands. How long had it been since he had even thought about his mother.

continued on AO3

Nearly 130 public libraries closed across Britain in the last year

Almost 130 public libraries have closed in the last year in Britain while an extra 3,000 volunteers have been brought in to run remaining services, as the decade’s austerity pressures see local authorities continuing to apply swingeing cuts to budgets.

The annual survey of British libraries by the Chartered Institute of Public Finance and Accountancy (Cipfa) has revealed a similar picture each year since 2010, with the number of branches and paid staff falling every year.

READ MORE

What it’s like to have Coronavirus (Covid-19).

Connor Reed, a 25-year-old expat from Llandudno in North Wales, has worked in a school in Wuhan, China, for almost a year. In November he became the first British man to catch the coronavirus.

Day 1 — Monday November 25: I have a cold. I’m sneezing and my eyes are a bit bleary. It isn’t bad enough to keep me off work. I arrived in this country to teach English as a foreign language — but now I’m a manager at a school in Wuhan, the city in central China where I have lived for the past seven months.

I speak Mandarin well, and the job is interesting. My cold shouldn’t be very contagious, so I have no qualms about going to work. And I live alone, so I’m not likely to give it to anyone. There hasn’t been anything in the news here about viruses. I have no cause for concern. It’s just a sniffle.

Day 2: I have a sore throat. Remembering what my mum used to do when I was a child, I mix myself a mug of honey in hot water. It does the trick.

Day 3: I don’t smoke and I hardly ever drink. But it’s important to me to get over this cold quickly, so that I can stay healthy for work. For medicinal purposes only, I put a splash of whisky in my honey drink. I think it’s called a ‘hot toddy’.

Day 4: I slept like a baby last night. Chinese whisky is evidently a cure for all known ailments. I have another hot toddy in the evening.

Day 5: I’m over my cold. It really wasn’t anything.

Day 7: I spoke too soon. I feel dreadful. This is no longer just a cold. I ache all over, my head is thumping, my eyes are burning, my throat is constricted. The cold has travelled down to my chest and I have a hacking cough.

This is flu, and it’s going to take more than a mug of hot honey, with or without the magic whisky ingredient, to make me feel better.

The symptoms hit me this afternoon like a train and, unless there’s an overnight miracle, I will not be going to work tomorrow. It’s not just that I feel so ill — I really don’t want to give this flu to any of my colleagues.

Day 8: I won’t be in work today. I’ve warned them I’ll probably be off all week. Even my bones are aching. It’s hard to imagine I’m going to get over this soon.

Even getting out of bed hurts. I am propped up on pillows, watching TV and trying not to cough too much because it is painful.

Day 9: Even the kitten hanging around my apartment seems to be feeling under the weather. It isn’t its usual lively self, and when I put down food it doesn’t want to eat. I don’t blame it – I’ve lost my appetite too.

Day 10: I’m still running a temperature. I’ve finished the quarter-bottle of whisky, and I don’t feel well enough to go out and get any more. It doesn’t matter: I don’t think hot toddies were making much difference.

Day 11: Suddenly, I’m feeling better, physically at least. The flu has lifted. But the poor kitten has died. I don’t know whether it had what I’ve got, or whether cats can even get human flu. I feel miserable.

Day 12: I’ve had a relapse. Just as I thought the flu was getting better, it has come back with a vengeance. My breathing is laboured. Just getting up and going to the bathroom leaves me panting and exhausted. I’m sweating, burning up, dizzy and shivering. The television is on but I can’t make sense of it. This is a nightmare.

By the afternoon, I feel like I am suffocating. I have never been this ill in my life. I can’t take more than sips of air and, when I breathe out, my lungs sound like a paper bag being crumpled up. This isn’t right. I need to see a doctor. But if I call the emergency services, I’ll have to pay for the ambulance call-out myself. That’s going to cost a fortune. I’m ill, but I don’t think I’m dying — am I?

Surely I can survive a taxi journey. I decide to go to Zhongnan University Hospital because there are plenty of foreign doctors there, studying. It isn’t rational but, in my feverish state, I want to see a British doctor. My Mandarin is pretty good, so I have no language problem when I call the taxi. It’s a 20-minute ride. As soon as I get there, a doctor diagnoses pneumonia. So that’s why my lungs are making that noise. I am sent for a battery of tests lasting six hours.

Day 13: I arrived back at my apartment late yesterday evening. The doctor prescribed antibiotics for the pneumonia but I’m reluctant to take them — I’m worried that my body will become resistant to the drugs and, if I ever get really ill and need them, they won’t work. I prefer to beat this with traditional remedies if I can.

It helps, simply knowing that this is pneumonia. I’m only 25 and generally healthy: I tell myself there’s no reason for alarm. I have some Tiger Balm. It’s like Vick’s vapour rub on steroids. I pour some into a bowl of hot water and sit with a towel over my head, inhaling the fumes. I’m going ‘old school’. And I’ve still got the antibiotics in reserve if I need them.

Day 14: Boil a kettle. Add Tiger Balm. Towel over head. Breathe for an hour. Repeat.

Day 15: All the days are now blurring into one.

Day 16: I phone my mother in Australia. There was no point in calling her before now — she’d only worry and try to jump on a plane. That wouldn’t work: it takes an age to get a visitor’s visa to China. I’m glad to hear her voice, even if I can’t do much more than croak, ‘Mum, I feel so ill.’

Day 17: I am feeling slightly better, but I don’t want to get my hopes up yet. I’ve been here before.

Day 18: My lungs no longer sound like bundles of broken twigs.

Day 19: I am well enough to stagger out of doors to get more Tiger Balm. My nose has cleared enough to smell what my neighbours are cooking, and I think I might have an appetite for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Day 22: I was hoping to be back at work today but no such luck. The pneumonia has gone — but now I ache as if I’ve been run over by a steamroller. My sinuses are agony, and my eardrums feel ready to pop. I know I shouldn’t but I’m massaging my inner ear with cotton buds, trying to take the pain away.

Day 24: Hallelujah! I think I’m better. Who knew flu could be as horrible as that, though?

Day 36: A tip-off from a friend sends me hurrying to the shops. Apparently, the Chinese officials are concerned about a new virus that is taking hold in the city. There are rumours about a curfew or travel restrictions. I know what this will mean — panic buying in the shops. I need to stock up on essentials before everyone else does.

Day 37: The rumours were right. Everyone is being told to stay indoors. From what I’ve heard, the virus is like a nasty dose of flu that can cause pneumonia. Well, that sounds familiar.

Day 52: A notification from the hospital informs me that I was infected with the Wuhan coronavirus. I suppose I should be pleased that I can’t catch it again — I’m immune now.

However, I must still wear my face mask like everyone else if I leave the apartment, or risk arrest. The Chinese authorities are being very thorough about trying to contain the virus.

Day 67: The whole world has now heard about coronavirus. I’ve told a few friends about it, via Facebook, and somehow the news got out to the media.

My local paper back in Llandudno, North Wales, has been in touch with me. Maybe I caught the coronavirus at the fish market.

It’s a great place to get food on a budget, a part of the real Wuhan that ordinary Chinese people use every day, and I regularly do my shopping there.

Since the outbreak became international news, I’ve seen hysterical reports (especially in the U.S. media) that exotic meats such as bat and even koala are on sale at the fish market. I’ve never seen that.

The only slightly weird sight I’ve seen is the whole pig and lamb carcasses for sale, with their heads on.

Day 72 — Tuesday, February 4: It seems the newspapers think it’s terrific that I tried to cure myself with hot toddies.

I attempt to explain that I had no idea at the time what was wrong with me — but that isn’t what they want to hear.

The headline in the New York Post says, ‘UK teacher claims he beat coronavirus with hot whisky and honey.’

I wish it had been that easy.

A sincere request from someone who has spent her entire adult life wishing people had kept better records…

In the coming weeks and months… RECORD WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Start a journal, take photos, keep a video diary, make a daily blog post, jot a few notes down in a day planner, whatever!

It is not very often that you can be certain that you’re living in a time that historians will study in detail.

The nightly news can tell us the facts, twitter can tell us the larger cultural trends, but no one can keep an accurate record of your daily life and honest thoughts during this crisis but you.

Are you scared to death? Write it down.

Are you still thinking this is being blown out of proportion? Write it down.

Are you still being forced to work and are pissed as hell about it? Write it down.

Did you see someone do something kind that made you smile? Write it down.

Is your grocery store completely out of toilet paper? Take a picture.

Is your normally bustling neighborhood eerily empty? Take a video.

Did you see a really funny plague joke on twitter? Write it down so you/your grandkids and/or future historians can have a laugh.

I have never successfully kept a journal in my entire life, but I’ve been keeping one since the 10th. Nothing fancy. Just a summary of my day in quarantine, what my family’s up to, today’s news and my current thoughts.

Even if it’s only for you to look back on this time honestly, without the bias of hindsight, you won’t regret doing it.

Future historians will thank you.

Sars doesn’t stand a chance.

Devil John 7 - Sex

Fandom: Sherlock

Rating: Explicit

Excerpt:

In the army, his unassuming nature and his ability to get a repeat date with any woman who had dropped her knickers for him once was what spurred the men to name him Three-Continents Watson.

He couldn't help the desire he felt whenever a pretty woman walked by, but it was contained somewhat by his certainty that he could have them begging and calling his name if he wanted them to. Even so, he always felt a little tense when he was alone with a woman.

Men, for the most part, did nothing for him. John found them uninteresting, almost without exception. Until a man had strutted across the lab toward him with his cheekbones and his tailored suit and John had felt it like a punch in the gut. He'd even had the gall to wink at him on his way out, just like she had, reminding him of what it felt like to be powerless.

When Sherlock had taken John's very mild query into his sexual orientation and thrown it in his face, John knew that his momentary thought of perhaps giving the other side a go was never going to happen. He put it out of his mind.

And yet, Sherlock always had a way of throwing him off balance. He definitely was NOT a woman, but sometimes the ever-changing color of his eyes, or the pale freckles on his neck as he stood playing the violin, or the rounded curve of his ass would hit John in a way that made him feel like he was back in that referee's closet.

continued on AO3

Solarpunk Action Week: Spring 2020!

(Eventually you people are going to learn to stop encouraging me to do stuff)

Since the main organizer of the previous festivities has migrated to Mastodon pretty much exclusively, ya’girl is gonna go ahead and get started on the Tumblr side of 2020′s Solarpunk Action Week.  Mark your calendars for March 8th thru 14th!

“But Lyudmila,” you say, “why in the entire hell are you talking about March in November?” – Well, it’s never too early start learning and planning.

What is Solarpunk?

Solarpunk is a movement in speculative fiction, art, fashion and activism that seeks to answer and embody the question “what does a sustainable civilization look like, and how can we get there?” The aesthetics of solarpunk merge the practical with the beautiful, the well-designed with the green and wild, the bright and colorful with the earthy and solid. Solarpunk can be utopian, just optimistic, or concerned with the struggles en route to a better world — but never dystopian. As our world roils with calamity, we need solutions, not warnings. Solutions to live comfortably without fossil fuels, to equitably manage scarcity and share abundance, to be kinder to each other and to the planet we share. At once a vision of the future, a thoughtful provocation, and an achievable lifestyle.”

And what is Solarpunk Action Week?

Solarpunk Action Week is a week dedicated to taking and spreading actions–complex or simple, big or small–to build our communities, practice our skills, and make the world just a little bit better. Make a Tumblr post about whatever action(s) you take and tag me in or use the #SolarpunkActionWeek tag, and I’ll reblog them here and archive them over on @the-last-girl-scout.  No doubt many other blogs will be doing likewise!

What can I do?

Oh, so many things!  No, really, one of the reasons I’m making this post so far in advance is that the sheer number of possibilities can be pretty overwhelming.  What you do is up to you! but for instructions and inspiration, you should check out the Sunbeam City wiki, and I’ve spent the past year archiving how-to and educational posts over on @the-last-girl-scout (check out the #solarpunk [obvs], #gardening, #diy, #organizing, and #afa tags specifically), and you should also go ahead and follow the laundry list of blogs I’m gonna @ at the bottom of this post b/c they are all very good, and make sure and check the notes for anyone/anything I may have forgotten!

You could start a garden, flyer/sticker your neighborhood, share food w/ your pals and the neighborhood, do some self-education, learn how to make something instead of buying it, overthrow capitalism … the possibilities are endless!

Get out there and invent the future, space cadets.

@solarpunkcast @solarpunkwobbly @systlin  @plantanarchy @solarpunk-gnome @solarpunkwitchcraft @antifainternational @tropicalhomestead @akradicalgardener @kropotkindersurprise  @solarpunkbaby @advocateforearth @plantyhamchuk​

women of sherlock → sarah sawyer (played by zoe telford)

Some goofs are kind of artistic... | Lunatics! Project on Patreon

Official Post from Lunatics! Project: It would seem Georgiana is on the wrong layer in this file (she's on the "Freestyle Proxy" layer). But it's kind of a cool effect. Might have to use it for something in the future. Also don't mind the invisible billboards!

Georgiana is a ghost, visiting from the Freestyle plane, where she was not supposed to be!