Thursday, January 29th, 2026 01:50 pm

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC TV 2010)

Pairings/Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, John Watson

Rating: Explicit

Length: 4400 words

Theme: Crack Treated Seriously

Summary: Sherlock and John swap bodies. John doesn't want to talk about it.

Creator Links: [archiveofourown.org profile] Rhuia

Reccer’s Notes Sex pollen on Earth requires some shenanigans, but add in body swap and we’ve got a deep dive into how this combo would affect these two’s self-knowledge and desire. Very explicit, very steamy, very funny.

Fanwork Link Once, Twice

Thursday, January 29th, 2026 01:15 pm
handspun silk yarn, fountain pen for scale

Silk handspun destined for [personal profile] ilyena_sylph!

There's a lot of need for emotional support right now. :]

Back to book edits (CODE AND CODEX).
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 10:27 am
Latest entry in the currently flourishing protest song genre:


What? Were you expecting Springsteen?
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 07:11 am
Daniel Craig schools Stephen Colbert on how to pronounce his name. (It's "Craig" not "Cregg". "Cregg" is C.J. from The West Wing.)

Now, if only some guest would teach Colbert how to pronounce "Gollum" ...
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 09:08 am
Escapade 36 = February 20 - 22 (vid deadline = Feb 14)
VidUKon = June 5 - 7
World Wide Slash (DC-Slash's new name) = July 17 - 19
Escapade 36.5 (online) = August 7 - 9
Confabulation = October 22 - 25

I think Wiscon (May 21- 25) might have a vidshow, but I haven't seen anything confirmed yet.
Tags:
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 01:47 pm
Spoonbills, Shipstal Point

A walk along muddy paths, down to Shipstal Point, to sit for a while looking out over the choppy grey-brown waters of Poole Harbour. The wind very cold indeed, and the light terrible for photography. But it's a good place to see the birds passing: Oystercatchers, Avocets, and even a flock of Spoonbills.

+1 )
Tags:
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 08:01 am
At certain moments in Hampton Sides’ The Wide Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook, one feels that one has stepped into the middle of a barfight that’s been running for decades and shows no sign of stopping.

This barfight has a number of different sub-fights (Captain Cook: heroic scientific explorer or wicked vanguard of British imperialism?), but because this book is focused on Captain Cook’s final voyage, it deals most prominently with one question: did the Hawaiians actually believe that Cook was a god?

Arguing for the affirmative: Hawaiians had a well-established cultural tradition of men who were also gods. Their own high kings were considered gods, so it would not have been a stretch to look at the leader of an expedition from overseas and go, “Hmm, maybe this guy is also a god.” When Hawaiian historian Samuel Mānaiakalani Kamakau gathered evidence from Hawaiian elders in the mid-1800s, they did indeed tell him that they had all believed (at first) that Cook was Lono. Mark Twain learned the same thing when he visited in the 1860s. The crews of Cook’s two ships also believed that Cook had been acclaimed as a god.

Arguing against: saying the Hawaiians believed Cook was a god makes them look gullible and naive, and plays right into paternalistic, racist, imperialist beliefs about “primitive natives.”

Readers, I would like to suggest a third way. What if Cook was Lono?

When he walked into that ceremony in Kealakekua Bay, accepted the homage of the Hawaiian people, and ascended the tower where the priests spoke to the gods, he became Lono. He stepped into the role of Lono; he was inhabited by Lono. One may quibble about the exact mechanism, but the basic fact remains that the Hawaiians were right.

But in becoming Lono, Cook stepped directly on the path to his own destruction. In his own cultural terms, he had committed blasphemy, broken the first commandment: thou shalt have no other gods before me. In inhabiting the role of a man who was also a god, he had committed a crime against the One True God.

But, at the same time, he was stepping into a role that every Christian child knows. In Cook’s belief system, there was once a man who was God, and He died a violent death.

(In fact, one of Cook’s men argued that Cook died a genuine martyr, accepting his death - “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” - but he was almost certainly trying to cover his own ass for cowardice. He was in a boat just offshore when Cook died, and rowed away rather than rowing in to help.)

In the Hawaiian belief system, meanwhile, Cook’s identity of Lono did not make his death inevitable - yet. As long as he inhabited Lono’s role properly, he was safe.

But first, Cook outstayed Lono’s season, which lasts for four months and then departs. But Cook did not depart punctually. Great tension had grown up before he left.

And once he left, storms forced him back to Kealakekua. He arrived months before the time for Lono’s return, at which point the Hawaiians began to wonder: was this man Lono after all? Now both cultures were aligned, and Cook’s death became inevitable. The theft of one of Cook’s launches led to a confrontation on the beach at Kealakekua, which ended with Cook’s violent death.
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 11:13 am
And I am still buzzing and I am so so so proud of myself and I need to talk about it and I only know two people who know what it means.

If anyone has 80 seconds, I rec watching Symbalily's first encounter with Artorias the Abysswalker:



Like O&S, this is one of the most iconic fights in the entire Dark Souls series. But I would say it's as much of a difficulty spike again relative to them as they are to the game before them.

Context: Artorias is the great legendary hero you've been hearing about all through the base game. But now he's been defeated by the Abyss, with his left arm shattered (his sword arm, so he's fighting you by swinging a sword with his off hand) and his mind mostly gone.

(There is meta to be meta-ed about FromSoft's long line of incredibly badass disabled characters; I don't know if it's necessarily #unproblematic #goodrepresentation, given that so many of them are trying to kill you and it's often being used to evoke ruin and tragedy, but it's not nothing either. Adaptive king Artorias.)

The way he howls and shakes reminds me of nothing so much as the Tumblr story about the rabid raccoon. It's eerie and wrong and awful.

He is incredibly aggressive and incredibly fast, and if you start chipping his health down he draws on the Abyss to power himself up further in a way that rapidly makes his hits unblockable (at least for most builds), so you can only try, desperately, to dodge. And he can and will one-hit kill you, and then do front flips on your corpse.

I think I had to level my brain up to do this fight. Holy shit.

I have been IMMERSED over the last few days, learning his patterns and rhythms, and now I feel weirdly close to Artorias and emotional about it. More than any of the other bosses so far, Artorias feels like fighting a person. I gave his soul to an old friend of his to take care of. Sleep well, dude.
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 05:42 am
Before the snow started falling, I was genuinely worried Trump's government would force us to report to work as normal in hazardous conditions, or at least burn our annual leave to avoid it. I suppose they really couldn't get away with doing so the first two days of this week. But that they only granted us a one hour delay yesterday is kind of telling. I did end up taking leave for that day. But now my street has since gotten a second plowing and the website claims the buses are all running on time. So I have showered as soon as waking up to give my hair as much time to dry as possible, and dug out the black denim I'm pretty sure I can get away with wearing under these conditions, and a full set of long underwear. Hopefully I'll be able to walk to the bus stop without slipping and breaking anything.
I'm not even sure how many people are going to be there. Probably at least someone to mind the front desk, though.
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 10:22 am

 Some recent reads:

'Black Hearts in Battersea' by Joan Aiken  4/5

This is a cheerful romp of a book!

Set in the fictitious reign of James III, it has pretty much everything a young reader could wish for (my 11 year old granddaughter loved it!): adventure, kidnapping, hot air balloons, shipwreck, an eccentric Duke, an attempt to murder the king, lots of fun characters and the lost heir to a Dukedom.

Fast paced and laced with humorous situations.

----------------

We have a deal going on. I read a book my granddaughter recommends and she reads one I rec.  So I've just finished Black Hearts in Battersea, and she enjoyed Heinlen's 'Rolling Stones'.

----------------

Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel  2/5

I really wanted to like this, as I enjoyed the TV series.

Unfortunately, I dislike most books written in the first person, and most books written in the present tense  - this book is both.

I couldn't get though many pages before giving up.

Hopefully, most other readers won't find this an issue, but for me personally, I can only give it two stars.

----------

 

Bookshops and Bonedust - Travis Baldree 3/5

This one disappointed me.

Surely a writer as popular as Travis Baldree can get decent beta-readers/editors who actually have some decent general knowledge?

Fantasy requires 'suspension of disbelief'.  I can believe in a lesbian, dwarf baker falling for an orc twice her size.  I can happily buy an evil necromancer, an ailing bookshop, etc.

But I cannot buy a character being stabbed twice rapidly in her leg by a pike.  I'm a re-enactor.  A pike is an 18ft long weapon, cumbersome, and used as part of a pike block.

If you want to stab someone close up, use a spear!

Happened again right at the end.  A warrior sat rosining his bowstring.

Even my 11-year-old granddaughter spotted what was wrong with that...

You rosin a violin bow.  (It makes the horsehair sticker so it has more friction with the violin strings)

Rosining an archer's bowstring (which is definitely not made of horsehair) is complete nonsense.

Without those gaffes, I'd probably have given it a rating of 4, although there was a geological error as well...

It may sound nit-picky, but if I'm absorbed in a story, something that is clearly wrong jerks me out of my belief in that story.

Thursday, January 29th, 2026 03:31 pm
Having to leave Amazon and KU was a minor earthquake to my mental health, because I'm having to think about the future and what I see is scary. While indie authorship is always a marathon, I'll have to go wide now, which is an even slower build. It means I need a day job. And the one I applied for, that I actually wanted, is ghosting me. Unfortunately ghosting is very common employer behaviour here. It angers me that employers can behave so unprofessionally while the people applying to jobs have to be perfectly professional despite the stress and despite being treated badly by the market and by employers.

For a few days I was coming over all weepy at random times of the day, and when I was looking through jobs I was forgetting to breathe. There was a constant knot in my throat and the back of my neck hurt because I was unconsciously so tense. I applied to one thing and just stopped. I remember the last time I job searched, and it was bad, but my symptoms this time are so severe that my recent job must have hurt me more than I thought. The other employees were there long-term and I thought I would get to be, too. And when I heard about some of their newbie mistakes–accidentally deleting a website, spending a client's entire marketing budget in an hour by forgetting to cap the daily ad spend–I wondered why they had been allowed to stay while I, who had not made any newbie mistakes, was laid off. By extending my trial period instead of making me permanent, they paid me less than the salary I was supposed to get for an additional three months, so that they got nine months of my labour and I got less than I bargained for. And these were employers and colleagues I trusted, and even now I'm confused because when I tell my friends about it, they say I was exploited, and if I heard my friend tell me this I'd say the same. But they had seemed such green flags to me that now I don't know how to choose a job that won't hurt me. If exposing yourself to the job is the only way to find out, that doesn't help my anxiety while applying.

The ways in which I am trying to care for my mental health include: wearing outfits I like even if I'm not going out, hyperfixating on Yunho, and trying to find k-drama and books that stimulate me because writing fannishly gives me a sense of accomplishment without any expectation of monetary gain. I like thinking up and writing meta more than fanfiction, and I like the bits of interaction I get on my tumblr posts. I like the platform and I like that Ateez and k-drama fandoms are present there, although I wish CIX and other k-pop fandoms would also move there instead of staying on Twitter.

I can't always find things that stimulate me, though, and sometimes something that stimulates me for a while peters off. For instance, I was enjoying the k-drama Idol I, about an idol accused of murder whose representing lawyer is secretly his fangirl, because the first half of the show was deliciously self-reflective about the experience of being a fangirl and what a mindfuck it is when the parasocial crosses into the real. But the second half of the show is just romance with a murder mystery background, and is not as interesting to me.

I've got to figure out ways to keep the happy chemicals in my brain in production, but one thing I'm grateful for is how accessible art is for me thanks to modern tech. I can read webtoons, watch shows, read webnovels, listen to music, scroll Tumblr for art. One of my online acquaintances told me I can find mini tutorials for oil pastel techniques on Pinterest. And when I create, when I write something of my own, I can put it on the internet. Even if other circumstances and conditions make my brain unhappy, even if it's near impossible to maintain wellbeing during These Times, feeding my brain nourishing things is easier now than at any other point in history, probably.
Thursday, January 29th, 2026 08:38 am
All upon the most amiable terms

Cretia was somewhat daunted at the prospect of going a visit to Lady Jane Knighton in Hampshire – one heard a deal of how exacting a lady she was! – that she was somewhat of a martinet among the philanthropic set –

But here was Vicky, that had also been invited, looked upon the excursion as quite the greatest treat – she and Lady Jane already had tremendous plans for reading the classics together – and she has that exceptional fine library that was her great-uncle’s there, the renowned scholar that corresponded with Mrs Carter –

It was quite the most agreeable thing that Mr Grigson had proposed that Vicky’s position in the household should be made a permanency. Sure she did not know how she should do without Vicky! For quite apart from how meticulous she was about keeping Cretia’s diary and her correspondence in order, and advising her as to what she might read, she was exceptional well-informed about the intricacies of the society Cretia was now moving in.

This was most useful, for although Cretia came about to make friends, there were sometimes questions she hesitated to ask. But Vicky’s Ma was the famed Sophy that was Lady Bexbury’s personal maid, and her sister was Miss Thomasine at Mamzelle Bridgette, and la, said Vicky, one will hear all the stories! And my sister Gertie has connexions with the horsey set. Then we have antient schoolfellows – and some make their debut, and others go out be governesses &C –

And Cretia was coming about on considerable terms of friendship with Janey Merrett, now that they were confederates in this plot of Lady Bexbury’s to unmask those sharping vipers Lady Venchall and Mrs Bramby. Janey’s dearest friend was Miss Thomasine, that had been at school with, Cretia heard so much about that school that she was quite in envy.

O, but Miss Thomasine – 'Sina – was also a less daunting figure than she had feared. Did not look one up and down and appraise one’s dress and sigh, but was ever agreeable to giving little hints on style. And so pretty – Vicky was well-looking enough, but 'Sina was, was there not a verse in the Bible, thou are black but comely?

Both the Jupp girls were magnificent equestriennes – fie, we was about stables from babies! –

She dared say that Rina would sneer and pout and make comments but really, they also had very polished manners – a very refined way of speaking –

She remarked on this to Janey, saying supposed it was the effect of that very fine school?

Janey shook her head. Fie, Sophy was ever very particular – just because they were brought up above the stables was no reason to show vulgar – though I daresay at necessity Gert can give fellows quite a tongue-lashing! – that is the middle sister, the one that shows an interest in helping Mr Jupp with the business –

Cretia sighed.

A footman came in with the post.

How delightful! a letter from Zipsie –

Janey looked up from her own letters. I say, Cretia, is there any likelihood that Iffling looks about for a governess for his children? I know several young women that are looking out for places –

Cretia made some calculations of the ages of the Iffling offspring and indeed, it must be coming about schoolroom years for 'em – has not said aught to me, yet, and neither has Rina – but may be in some concern that governesses would not wish to take a post at Anclewer.

Janey snorted. Why, one apprehends these days His Grace is carefully attended and minded, and that anyway, the way his affliction takes him is not towards any violence – sure there are establishments where the head of the house is in his right mind, or supposed so, and one would think twice about sending a young girl there –

Oh, entirely! Would not even molest a rose-bush, but address it very civil. I fancy my sister might be more of a problem, though she takes very little interest in the children. Still, do I have the chance, I will mention the matter to Iffling.

Janey suddenly jumped up, the letters in her lap fluttering to the floor as she went to the window. I would say, why, who is this comes? But I will hazard I know, though 'tis somewhat earlier than anticipated.

Cretia went to stand by Janey. She could see Lady Jane and Vicky, that had been sitting on the terrace with their books, stand up and move towards the portico.

The carriage halted. A footman ran forward with the step, and opened the door.

Oh.

Oh. This was not just an arrival. This was making an entrance, as Miss Addington emerged from the conveyance, paused for a moment, smiled radiantly at the approaching Lady Jane, and stepped down.

The two women clasped hands and kissed cheeks in greeting. One apprehended that they were quite the oldest of friends – Lady Jane an admirer of Miss Addington’s thespian art these many years.

It was ever surprizing to meet Miss Addington off-stage and find her by no means a large person – Janey had explained that she was able to command a compelling stage presence – and one noted this in particular beside the tall Lady Jane.

She turned to greet the rest of the company, and informed Janey and Cretia that she was entire apprized of the plot respecting those harpies and was very happy to assist in their designs. Murmured to 'Sina that did she know of any seamstress that cared to change her position for that of dresser in the theatre, Maggy had finally come about to concede that she should have some assistant – Heard that Vicky had been essaying her hand at translating certain Greek plays but they did not sound like to be agreeable to the Lord Chamberlain?

Vicky grinned and said that there were certain fine strong women’s parts but indeed she confided the like!

Miss Addington took a few days to recruit – la, you cannot imagine what 'tis like, getting a theatre company off on its travels round Lady Ollifaunt’s fine establishments! – as dear Lady Bexbury has remarked, would that one might breed or train sheepdogs to the task of herding actors! – but very shortly braced herself to the task of providing a little instruction to Janey and Cretia for their masquerade.

She sat 'em down at a card-table and they all engaged in play for a little while.

Ah, Lady Lucretia, 'twill serve very well that you seem a little hesitant – unfamiliar with the various games they are like to propose – perchance fumble somewhat with your cards – for one dares say they remember you sitting mumchance in a corner whilst they rooked your sister – So you will not require to act a part, whereas Janey –

O, indeed! cried Janey. Here am I, a bored young woman with an older husband, that has dragged me to live in the desert of Bloomsbury because 'tis so very handy for the Inns of Court – never discusses his cases with me, so I can convey no fine gossip about 'em – I do not think Venchall or Bramby ever had knowledge of him in bygone days but there may be ladies who did, or know ladies who did, and will titter behind their hands –

Cretia blushed.

Miss Addington nodded. That is your character, she said, And mayhap you have quite a conceit of your ability with the cards?

Oh, yes, they may have heard something of my mathematical studies, so I will – oh, not boast precisely, but indicate that there are principles that one may apply does one have that knowledge –

Exactly so!

So they practised, and got on, but there were also fine rides, and Janey took her sailing a time or two in her little boat Hypatia, and a deal of amiable conversation, and sitting on the terrace – for the weather was very fine and 'twas a pity to lurk indoors – reading and writing letters.

They also remembered to go feed the chickens, for the Samuels were visiting Tetterdene, where Sir Jacob was advising the Bexburys on forest management, and Lady Samuels had left very detailed instructions about the care of her beloved hens.

Cretia paused daily to admire what was quite a shrine to the late Admiral in the hall: a fine portrait of him in his uniform – his medals – various commissions and letters of commendation – watercolours of several of his ships –

A flying visit from Janey’s husband, 'twixt doing the family dutiful at Monks Garrowby and going to Sir Godfrey Allder’s philosophical convocation at Wallesfern. How very charming he was – one no longer wondered at his reputation – after a conversation in which he had led her to talk a good deal about herself she also no longer wondered at the revelations he elicited in the witness box!

So they were a happy little company all upon the most amiable terms – Lady Jane opened to Cretia about possible philanthropic matters she might interest herself in, that was very gratifying – in the evenings after dinner there was some reading of Shakspeare

And then, one day, when they were taking tea upon the lawn, came one of the footmen to say, was a carriage coming up the drive –

Lady Jane frowned, and said, had not been in any anticipation of company. She looked about 'em. And they all shook their heads.

– with a crest upon it, cannot yet make it out.

Lady Jane rose from her chair. Will go see what’s ado –

This unexpected intrusion put 'em all in somewhat of an agitation – who could it be?

A little while later, came back Lady Jane, with the Dowager Lady Bexbury, clad in unusually sombre fashion.

Miss Addington started up, a hand to her mouth. Is it – is it – ?

Lady Bexbury sighed and went to put her arms about the actress. Yes, my dear. Hywel died quite sudden – no long-drawn-out deathbed scene – we must consider it a happy release

The lovely voice quivered.

– I did not want you to learn the news from the morning papers so came quite directly.

Lady Jane rested a hand on Miss Addington’s shoulder, that was shaking with sobs. I know what an old friend he was –

Gave me my first chance when I was a very unformed little actress – we acted together so well for so long –

– And to you too, Clorinda.

For one perceived that she, too, had tears on her cheeks.


Thursday, January 29th, 2026 02:35 am

Image
Nature is looking particularly fractal this morning.
Original is here on Pixelfed.scot.

Thursday, January 29th, 2026 07:23 am
 I dreamed the black silhouette of a man identified as my father was trying to get in through the bedroom window. After which a wild black thing with claws leaped onto the bed. Oddly enough I wasn't scared. My thoughts were more "This is all very inconvenient." I assumed the thing with claws was the cat and I'd have to get up and sort him out. And then my waking brain told me that the thing with claws was very much bigger than the cat. Also silent- and Marlowe is one of the noisiest things on four legs. "O good," I concluded, "I don't have to do anything about any of this...."