Luisa Capetillo (1879-1922): The Activist Arrested For Wearing Pants

Devil John

Chapter 5 - Tea

Fandom:Sherlock

Rating: Explicit

Excerpt:

The Black Dragon's Blood is long gone. It had given him confidence last time, burning through his veins. Without it, his anger is buried deep, even so, he can feel it simmering like a coal covered in a bed of ash waiting to catch fire again.

“So,”John says, looking back at the newspaper again. “Has it really been over a year?”

“Almost two.”

“I see.”

“But time passes differently in Hell, you said.”

“Yes.”

“Was it much shorter?”

“Hard to say. It's hard to tell the hours apart when things are always the same.”

“It would be interesting to make a calculation of the differences. That is, people have speculated about the afterlife for quite a long time, and this is a unique opportunity to write something definitive on the subject. If you could simply describe what it is like there. I mean, I've read books. There are tales of a tunnel, some sort of light, but no one ever sees what's on the other side of the ...”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Is it that you are forbidden from speaking of it? You might let me guess. Then you only need nod. Is it anything like Dante's inferno? Or is it possibly that you...”

“I said that I don't want to talk about it!”

Sherlock stops talking. That more than anything drives John to turn and face him. Sherlock seems much healthier than before. He's underweight, as always, but despite his leg, he seems in good vigor. His blue eyes sparkle in the light from the window, and there is nothing about them that suggests that he isn't sleeping.

“You came back to me,” Sherlock says with eyes soft with feeling.

“Did you doubt I would?”

“No.”

“Liar. If you didn't doubt it, you wouldn't have mentioned in the first place.”

John walks over to his chair. It has been recently dusted and the union jack pillow neatly placed in the center. He thinks of sitting in it, but that would be too normal, so he walks around the chair instead placing his hands on the back to steady himself as he looks down at Sherlock.

Sherlock stares at him in wonder. John looks at his amazed face and then down at his own hands. He is uncertain what to do next. This isn't a completely uncommon state of affairs. Sherlock often unsettles him. When he had been alive, he had felt so confused at times, knowing that he wanted to say something, but not quite knowing what it was. But this is embarrassing. Demons aren't supposed to feel awkward, not in any vision of the afterlife that he's heard of. He rocks back and forth on his heels glancing up at Sherlock who is staring at him as if he believes that tearing his eyes away would make John disappear.

John starts to talk, then stops. Last visit he said some things that he was ashamed of. He wants to apologize to Sherlock for calling him names and for hurting him, but he's fairly certain that apologizing is also something that demons don't do. He had thought that death would change things, but he was pants at this sort of thing when he was alive, and it seems that he's going to be a pants demon as well?

Continued on AO3

(Author unknown)

To the tune of “Modern Major General”

I am the very model of effective social distancing!

I listen to the experts on the topic of resistance-ing;

I know that brunch and yoga class aren’t nearly as imperative

As doing what I can to change the nation’s viral narrative.

I’m very well acquainted, too, with living solitarily

And confident that everyone can do it temporarily:

Go take a walk, or ride a bike, or dig into an unread book;

Avoid the bars and restaurants and carry out, or learn to cook.

There’s lots of stuff to watch online while keeping safe from sinus ills

(In this case, it’s far better to enjoy your Netflix MINUS chills)!

Adopt a pet, compose a ballad, write some earnest doggerel,

And help demolish Trump before our next event inaugural.

Pandemics are alarming, but they aren’t insurmountable

If everybody pitches in to hold ourselves accountable.

In short, please do your part to practice prudent co-existence-ing,

And be the very model of effective social distancing!

Beautiful!

Sherlock || To Build A Home 

(100th video 💗)

Tags under the cut 🖤

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Devil John 11 - Like a girl

Fandom: Sherlock

Rating: Explicit

Excerpt:

The smell of oranges.

A tent door flapping in the breeze. Strong fingers digging in. The bright peel falling in pieces onto the surface a camp table. Oil arcs through the air filling the entire cabin with the smell of citrus.

“We've more ground to cover, and we're two men down,” Major Sholto says before taking a piece of orange and putting it in his mouth.

John looks up from where he sits slumped in his camp chair. He stares into blue eyes as bright as the desert sky. “Elroy and Firman were both good men. I tried to save them. I did everything I could for them.”

“I'm sure that you did, Watson. You're the best surgeon we have. If you couldn't save them, then they couldn't be saved.”

John smiles weakly, “It's nice of you to say, but I still think I could have done more.”

“As you should. Striving for perfection, that's what makes a man, isn't it? You did the best that you could, under the circumstances. No one can ask more than that. But I'm not looking forward to writing those letters to the family. It's never easy, but it's especially hard when those who die are so young.”

“Sometimes I wonder why they even enlisted. They could have been in Uni, having fun and meeting girls instead of coming out here to die in the desert.”

“Some people aren't made for civilized places. I couldn't imagine going back for good. Could you, Watson?”

“No,” John says. “It's a strange thing to say, considering where we are, but I've never lived in a place where I've felt more at peace than I do here and now...with you.”

Sholto pauses a minute to smile at John before eating the last orange slice.

John stares at the man sitting across from him. So strong and straight, and beautiful. It's as if this place had been made simply to show off his features. The square lines of his face echoed in the walls and floor. The beige color of the tent setting off the gold of his hair. He shines here, like the sun over the tops of the mountains.

In this moment, John's heart feels full, and this man makes him feel more welcome than anyone that he has ever known. He wants to tell him somehow, but he doesn't have words to describe it, so he rises to his feet and walks over to place a hand on the Major's shoulder.

He can hear birds singing outside the tent. Soon the sun will rise and everyone else in the camp will wake, but this moment seems made just for the two of them. A stolen moment of peace in a time of war. Unwilling to break the silence, but unable to keep his feelings inside, he bends down slowly and touches their lips together.

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Please submit all endangered Tumblrs you care about in this form.  Also please spread the message.

Hello Tumblr users,

we are the Archive Team, the Archive Team is a loose collective of rogue archivists, programmers, writers and loudmouths dedicated to saving our digital heritage. Since 2009 this variant force of nature has caught wind of shutdowns, shutoffs, mergers, and plain old deletions - and done our best to save the history before it’s lost forever. We already worked on other Yahoo related projects like GeoCities and Flickr.

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We plan to save many as many of the endangered blogs as possible. To do that we take multiple approaches.

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Yes this!

It’s my best ever. 

handwashing can dramatically lower the risk of contracting coronavirus because it's an enveloped virus, it's specifically surrounded in a lipid (fat) and the majority of soaps are designed to break up grease and fat bonds which means if you break up that outer layer? the virus dies! it's not super hardy without that outer layer, so washing your hands beyond just physically removing the virus, kills it as well if you use soap.

Devil John 13 - Friend

The end of the Devil John story!

Fandom: Sherlock

Rating: explicit

Excerpt:

“So you've decided to ignore me. No matter. At least now you will have finally accepted that you are gay.”

“I'm not gay.” John says.

“What?”

“My entire life and most of my afterlife I've been trying to fit into boxes that other people have made. I won't do that anymore. I'm not gay...or straight. I'm not a soldier, or a man, or even a devil. I don't identify as any label you can make up. I am simply myself, John. I will love who I want, do what I want. I don't need your approval or anyone else's. I don't need others to tell me what my limits are. I'll find them myself. I was so enslaved by my own identity that I hurt Sherlock. I made him feel like he wasn't right, like he had to change himself for me to love him. I never realized how my discomfort in my own skin caused him pain. I acted badly, and I'm sorry. I hope that he realizes that in the end.”

“He will once he's here with us. Human lives are only so long.”

“He's not coming. I set his soul free.”

“What did you say!” Moriarty screamed rising to his feet. “Imbecile, stupid ignoramus, did you say that you set him free?” Moriarty walked around the table and placed a red claw on John's neck. John looked up at him unconcerned.”

“Yes, I let him go. He was still alive. Even so, he was willing to submit to eternal torture just to keep me company. That's true sacrifice. Loving someone more than anything in the world. Sherlock tried to show me again and again, and I was too much of an idiot to see it, until now. So chain me up to that wall. Burn me. Tear me apart, or whatever it is that you plan to do. Sherlock is free, and he can go on to his reward. I hope that it makes him happy.”

John squares his chin and closes his eyes bracing for a blow,

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