NASA
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wallacepolsom
@theartofmadeline
PR's Tumblrdome
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
JVL
Claire Keane
will byers stan first human second
cherry valley forever
Cosimo Galluzzi
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
noise dept.
Kiana Khansmith
occasionally subtle
seen from Honduras
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bulgaria
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@totallysilvergirl
Infinifluff in July!
The 14th is soon upon us again; next Tuesday in fact. Prompts for the July edition: twig – annual – plant + the image above.
Alternative prompts: orchard - forest - landscape - oak - abundance + the image below.
Remember to tag us when you post your fluff so we can reblog it!
It's soon that time of month again!
Time for the penultimate installment of Solace and Joy, the fic that @fluffbruary built
Meet the press opening like:
POV i get into sherlock holmes and my brain cells have been consumed
This has been my main argument against "AI" from the very beginning.
OpenAI scraped the entire web. All of which had been a labor of love from humans. Wikipedia is the backbone of a lot of LLMs, and that was volunteer human labor. They stole it and now they're selling it back to us.
And worse, they're trying to destroy the free sources that they stole from. It's destruction of human knowledge on an unprecedented scale. The burning of the library of Alexandria has nothing on this.
Dangerous Company - part 10
by Holmesianlove
Chapter 10: Baby Steps
For days, it seemed I was relegated back to solitude. Holmes returned to his routine of being unavailable during the daylight hours and disappearing into the night once the sun was down. It was as if the previous few days had been a complete fantasy. Now that he knew I was well, there was no longer a reason for him to hover. Finding myself dripping with boredom, I was increasingly attending to more and more of the tasks around the apartment that perhaps I shouldn’t be. Every day I dusted, sorted, wiped and catalogued even more. Each time I promised myself to return things to the way they had been but gradually I completely transformed the sitting room into an elegant space - fit for visitors. His brother was right. I had apparently become his maid without realising it. At least it was keeping my muscles moving. It had been a long time since I had been so active and my body was thankful for the exercise. At the end of each day, I would sit, by the fire, after my meal with a book and a cup of tea or a glass of fine liquor and take pride in the work I had performed for the day. If it was the only work I was to be taking on at the moment, I would put everything into it. Somehow, in the space of a few days, it had been quite satisfying. I hoped that Holmes felt the same way about what I had done. What if he was angered by it? The thought suddenly created a ripple of anxiety across my chest.
“Are you busy?” Holmes suddenly asked from the side of the room.
I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling nervously. I had been very busy for many hours but he had caught me sitting, reading. It seemed like such a strange question to ask if he was looking at me right now such as I was.
Holmes looked perplexed by my amusement.
“Well, clearly I'm not,” I offered in response.
“Clearly? How is that clear? You could be deep in study right now. I take great pleasure in my reading. How am I to know what material is in front of you? Far be it from me to spoil your elucidations,” he said in a slightly snarky tone.
“Good point. Well made,” I conceded. “No, I am merely reading a frivolous fiction.” I frowned, lifting the cover with slight embarrassment. “Don’t judge me.”
“Oh.” Holmes raised a brow but said nothing more about it. “ I was planning to take a stroll and thought perhaps you might join me?”
I smiled, the offer quite unexpected. “I would really like that.”
He grinned back. “I'll meet you downstairs.”
I admit my heart gave a jolt of excitement. This was a step in the right direction, after everything that had happened. A sign that he did not find me an irritant. After spending days on my own mindlessly sitting about and cleaning, trying to find things to occupy myself without being a nuisance, this was a genuine surprise. I had hoped to finally get another moment with Holmes, daring not to leave the flat in case he surfaced. He had a way of appearing unannounced and I did not want to miss any opportunity for it. Now that it had presented itself, I was elated; he was finally ready to engage.
We walked side by side in silence for a long time. I offered several sideways glances, giving him the opportunity to speak, not wanting to make things awkward. I had hoped it might allow him a natural opportunity to speak first. Yet, after asking me to come for the stroll he somehow had nothing to say for three entire blocks.
Finally, I could no longer stand it. “I hope you don't mind, I…I tidied some more. Sorry,” I said awkwardly.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked - a little surprised by my statement.
“Well, I…I know that most of the belongings in the apartment are yours, but I tidied up. It's something that I do when I'm bored… or nervous and I wanted to make a good impression… and you disappeared again… and I was worried I had upset you. And I understand that… that may seem counterintuitive, that I would suddenly move your possessions around. But I did not get rid of any of them. I simply… tried to collect them into orderly patterns and… and make sure that the dust around them was moved. Dust is not good for your health. I simply wiped surfaces and collected things together. If you're wanting clients to visit, for example, and they walk into a room, they're wanting to see that your space seems orderly and uh, that you take care of your possessions, and... that your assistant looks after the space.” I paused and looked at him and he had nothing to say. He was just watching me babble and I couldn’t seem to stop. “You mentioned you had clients and you needed my help so I… and it felt a little bit disordered, and I didn't want them to think that perhaps we are… you are… unable to… Feel free to stop me…” I looked at him again, almost annoyed now. “I'm expecting you to yell or tell me I'm doing the wrong thing. Perhaps I've overstepped. I've never lived with another person before, and I didn't want to do the wrong thing by you, but you're never awake for me to… and it's quite... an imposing space, with a lot of very expensive belongings, and... antiques, and books that are very valuable, but also, you don't take very good care of your things. And I simply wanted to make sure that the space looked nice… and… and… why are you smiling at me like that?” I said in irritation finally.
“You're very nervous,” he observed calmly.
“Well, you're not saying anything! We've been walking for ages in silence! I thought you wanted to get to know me, and I'm simply... wanting to... excuse my behaviour. Because I really thought that there would be more... I know that you did say, when we met, that you were quiet, and that you might spend a lot of time in your room… or that you might only come out at night, and I might be asleep when you came out, and I understood all of those conditions when I moved here, but I haven't seen very much of you at all. And then… I got bored… and I started one day just moving a couple of things and then once you move those things, you find more things. And then suddenly I was cleaning a lot and now the room looks almost entirely different and I'm sure you've noticed, but you've said nothing. And now I'm feeling very aware of it and then it was too late because I already cleaned everything. And now I can’t remember how it looked before to put it all back and–”
“Doctor Watson.”
“And I'm simply concerned that you're wanting to... Give me a reprimand, and I'm deserving of the reprimand, but you've said nothing and so I–”
“Watson.”
“Yes?”
“I think you might need to take a breath.”
“Probably. I’m feeling a little lightheaded now.”
“You need to calm down. You barely drew breath for that entire speech.” The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.
I took a few deep breaths and realised I had spoken for a long period of time. Almost as long as the silence before it. “Sorry.”
“It's fine. Really. It's fine. The room looks quite lovely, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it's not what I'm used to, but I can see your point about making a good impression. If I was living alone, I wouldn't have bothered, of course. There's no purpose to it when it was just for me, but I understand that perhaps I have let the space become untidy, which is not fair to you. I don't spend a lot of time in it. I usually am in my room or out of the apartment entirely. I don't have a lot of possessions in my room, so it didn't occur to me to tidy, and I do apologise.”
“You're not mad?”
“So long as you haven't damaged anything, or thrown anything out?”
“No, none at all. In fact some of the books are quite extraordinary. I've been reading them. While you've been quietly ignoring me.”
He opened his mouth to argue with me and then stopped. “Actually…”
“You're going to argue with me? I don't believe we've had a conversation that I'm unaware of. For days now.”
“No, I was... going to say I have... come out to speak to you, to check on you. But you were sleeping in the chair. So technically, I haven't ignored you. You've ignored me.”
“Well, that's hardly fair if I was asleep,” I said, completely surprised by the information.
Holmes walked a bit longer in silence, placing his hands in his pockets before he spoke again. “You speak in your sleep, you know?”
“I do?” I asked.
“Mmm.”
“What do I say?”
“Uh... I think you have nightmares. About the war?”
“Oh.” What would one possibly say back to that?
“It's understandable, and... so I play the violin. It eases... your dreams, it seems.”
“Oh.” I couldn't help the blush that rose on my cheeks. “I… Seems a little unfair. I'm completely at a disadvantage. I have no... no remembrance of this at all.”
“I know. It's alright. I have. It seems I have a friendship with the unconscious Watson.” He smiled to himself.
“Uh, I don't… I don't know what to say to that.”
“You don't need to say anything at all. It's nice. I don't really converse with a lot of humans anyway. So this way, I don't have to talk to you. I talk to your subconscious by playing my music and your subconscious tells me what it thinks of my songs.”
My brow wrinkled as I tried to ponder what this all meant. “And what does my unconscious self tell your... instrument?”
“My Mozart needs practice. The Beethoven concerto is simply unacceptable to you.”
I couldn't help chuckling.
“But the Bach.” He smiled and nodded to himself. “You like the Bach. I can understand that. It has an even tempo to it. Settles the mind down. Mostly the slow movements, though. You always prefer the slow movements. On one occasion, I was practising a partita, at a slow tempo to get my fingers around it, and you really enjoyed that too. So I think you like slow Bach.”
“Interesting. Perhaps you could play it for me sometime when I'm awake?”
“Maybe. It won't be as enjoyable when you’re watching me.”
“Well, that's hardly fair. I seem to be at a huge disadvantage. You know something about me, and I haven't had an opportunity to know anything about you at all.”
“You know I play the violin and that I come and play to you at night. You know that I collect rare books. And the kinds of books I like. You have... cleaned every surface, looked through all of my papers. I feel you probably know more personal things about me than I do about you, in actual fact. I’m sure you've looked through them all.”
I felt myself blush even more. Though, strangely, he wasn’t scolding me for it. “It's a curious mix of papers. Lots of historical documents... family trees, from long past.”
“I am a historian, and a scientist, Watson.”
“I see.”
We walked in silence for a time, observing the street. As the hour grew later, there were fewer and fewer people in the area we were walking. The temperature had begun to drop and a mist had started to build in the air making visibility more difficult. Occasionally I would startle when a couple would appear out of the mist right before us. Holmes seemed to already know they were coming and guided us smoothly from left to right on the pavement seamlessly to avoid them, grabbing my elbow once or twice to pull me out of the way before a timely near collision. It was fascinating, like a ballet. He said not a word about it. He guided me to the edge of the street to cross a road.
“It’s particularly thick this evening. The fog,” I commented. “I don’t often go out this late - is it always like this?”
“Hmmm, lately it has been,” Holmes offered in reply. Then he turned his head to look at me and paused. “How is your…?” He cleared his throat, gesturing his head towards my cheek. “Are you quite well, Watson?”
“I am perfectly well,” I replied, turning my head to look at him and nodding with a gentle smile. “I promise.”
It was a sweet moment. He still seemed so concerned. He wanted to be reassured that I was alright. I didn’t understand it. For such a small injury. Perhaps he had never known anyone to be injured in his care. For myself working in the war, I suppose I was a little desensitised but I felt his behaviour to be extreme. It was nice though, to be fussed over. So I tried to appreciate it.
As I smiled at him, I took a step out to cross the street and saw his face change in an instant. Holmes grabbed at the neck of my coat and pulled hard with a growl of outrage, pulling me back towards him. Within the split second of my feet leaving the ground a large horse charged past, right where I had been standing. His speed was so incredible that the breeze it created blew my hair around into my eyes and I was stunned into silence.
“You absolute moron! You can't ride like that in these conditions! I will find you! I will hunt you down!” He screamed down the street after the horse. He stood staring after the man, still gripping firmly to my coat as I stood there, shaking and staring back at him in shock.
“I… I didn't even… hear that. There was no warning. How did you…? How did you even hear that? I was so busy in conversation. I didn't even…”
Holmes refused to move, glaring down the street and I distinctly heard an angry, guttural growl deep in his throat, before he finally let go of the back of my coat, though he remained silent and tense. “I have excellent hearing, that's all. I should have been paying better attention.”
I straightened my coat and we both stood there, shell-shocked. “Well, you... You just saved my life. I owe you. And... I would be… You... You may call me John, if you wish. I think this... This makes us friends now. Officially. You've been... soothing me with your music and taking care of me in the evenings, even though we haven't spent a lot of time together. Even if I wasn’t aware of it. That settles it. I give you... permission to use my Christian name. And…”
He nodded his head in silence, still looking in the direction of the horse. “And you may continue to call me... Mister Holmes.”
I laughed silently. Not surprised in the slightest. And we finally crossed the street together.
The link to AO3
A huge thank you to @helloliriels for the stunning cover art created for #FTH2026
Thank you to all my lovely supporters who have read my writing before. Please let me know if you want me to remove you before the next part! Or if you’d like to be tagged
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we are NOT bringing 4chan incel terminology to this site, take that "foid" out of your post and go wash your blog out with soap
the memeification of fascism is a proven method of perpetuating and instilling it in other people. Layers of irony will not protect you once you adopt racist, sexist, ableist, transphobic terminology into your lexicon. you'll be acknowledging and nursing the mindsets and connotations borne of those words.
2-B-1
Original poem by @helloliriels
more
Mycroft
European greenfinch/Chloris chloris/grönfink. Värmland, Sweden (12 July 2025).
WHERE ARE MY CRABS
My work for the @very-sincerely-yours-zine !
What an incredible honor to be surrounded by such talented creatives in a celebration of queer life, love, and perseverance 🩵🩵🩵
people who do a PhD are running from something
the job market
she's the best of us
11: From Anthony J Crowley
It’s wrapped up with glitter and glitz, But wouldn’t be played at the Ritz. Now Sherlock does fear That he and John, here, Are stuck with this band’s greatest hits.
'Tis a Gift is on AO3.
I wonder if you think you know What gift that could be? Well, if so, Please share it with me And fill me with glee By putting your guess down below!
Tags under the cut. Thanks for reblogging!
If anything's sure in this life,
it's that Ritz sounds must not suggest strife.
But there's one grand Queen song
that can never be wrong:
I nominate "Love of My Life."
Without fail, every time a woman is talking about how she does not want to have children and never wants to be pregnant and how medical professionals, romantic interests and family members keep trying to bulldoze her decision and keep expecting her to change her mind because motherhood is something that is expected of all women and it is abhorrent to think a woman could not desire it, a random mother spawns in the comments to be like “Well, actually, you never know! I didn’t want children and then I got pregnant and I realized I love being a mama and I have five little babies now! Could happen to you! 🥰”
Sister, keep that to yourself or make your own goddamn post, you are ignoring that woman’s central concern and belittling her, you don’t even think you’re doing it. Formerly childfree women who ended up having children and loving it are like detransitioners in the sense that there is nothing inherently wrong with changing your mind about having children or realizing you were mistaken about your gender identity but immediately weaponizing your indecision to tell people that the barriers to healthcare and the violations of their bodily autonomy and the way society ignores that person’s wishes is actually okay because you were wrong. Some people do know themselves.
Write that long fic. Those two plot points and a fetish will make a great 5+1. It'll be the best oneshot you ever wrote.
