A John cameo has been added to my Sherlock wall :D

Ok.  The reason I’m posting this is not for some kind of self-gratification or personal flattery over someone commending my writing.  I’m posting this because I think it’s important for you readers/reviewers to know what a message like this means to a humble, nobody writer like me.  As soon as my eyes met these words, I began tearing up.  When you have nothing, no published works or critical acclaim validating your craft, this email becomes absolutely priceless.  This says to me “you are not wasting your time,” “you are not a failure,” “someone values what you do.”  Fellow writers know exactly what I’m talking about.  As a writer, you are bombarded with criticism, cynicism, and judgement.  You are expected to bomb.  Yes, okay, this is merely a compliment on my fanfiction, which, to many people, is nothing more than an exercise in frivolity.  But to me, it’s something more.  It’s something I’ve worked very hard on, something I’ve poured my soul and my style into, something I’m very passionate about.  And hey, guess what, someone liked it.  Do you guys have any idea what that kind of validation means to me?  Well, I’ll tell you: it means everything.  Everything.  So, thank you, so very, very much to those of you who kindly review. 

You give a writer a reason to write, and that, my dears, is one of the most precious gifts in the world.

Hmmmmm….alright here we go:

Back in the Day: Lots of drug-abusing Sherlock and slightly-alcoholic John against the backdrop of a University AU.  Has some really incredible moments and takes you through their relationship, in both trials and successes, in an engaging way.  Also, I remember finding it pretty funny in parts. 

Northwest Passage: This one has been going around a lot lately but that’s because it’s absolutely worth a read.  Isolation in Canada, PTSD, and some VERY romantic dialogue.  I was actually clandestinely crying and swooning at work as I read one particular part, and it was awkward (/I was awkward).

Eccentric: Looooots of masturbation smut.  An interesting take on Sherlock’s sexuality and how John fits into that.  But yeah, mostly smut.

Bedtime Stories: A classic.  Hilarious and sweet and if you haven’t read it, get your butt in gear.  ‘Tis lovely.

Close to Home: Here!  Have some BDSM, sub!Sherlock porn! #ridingcrop #whatwhat

Off on the Wrong Foot: Hilarious with great progression and some fighting sex. 

Dilaudid: Alright, as a warning, this is Alpha/Beta/Omega verse, and while everyone seems to insist they don’t read this shit, hits don’t lie (I’m just sayin’).  This one isn’t really about that whole business so much as it’s about John Watson being an awesome character and Sherlock being confusing.  Author’s been updating more of late (THANK GOD) so I feel less bad passing on this WIP.

A Study in Ludus: Ok, so this is a brutal WIP and I’m sorry, but it’s so damn good I just had to share.  University AU in which student!Moriarty challenges student!Sherlock to seduce professor!John. Progression is slow and brutal.  Angst is imminent. 

That’s the best I have for the moment, so I hope it helps!.  Of course, I could rec more but you’ve probably read them since you’re an avid Johnlock fic lover.  As for me, when I say that I have read an OBSCENE quantity of Sherlock fanfiction, I am not fucking joking.  It’s…incriminating, to say the very least.  And yet, for all that I’ve read, I’ve never come across a mafia!AU.  That is such a damn good idea I can see why you’re on the prowl for one.  I’ll keep my eyes open.  Truth be told, of late I’ve been predominantly reading Sterek and Cherik fics, so if you want some recs for those bad boys I have quite the list.  Especially for Cherik.  Thanks for thinking of me for some recs!  Always happy to help.

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Though Mycroft had warned him countless times not to venture too close to the surface (annoying, fat guppy that he was), Sherlock found himself, once again, trailing the wake of a great human ship.  He was alive with fascination, engaged like he’d never been by the dull, predictable dark of his home.  The parties, the insipid merpeople, and even his violin bored him to misery these days.  Finally, he had found something worth the focus of his raging mind.  Something worthy of him.   

And if Sherlock found the ship itself interesting, it was nothing compared to the obsession he felt for the one called “Captain” who rode astride it.  The strange sound of his voice when he called out orders, the crisp, sharp cuts of his garments, the aura of command set down his spine.  Everything about “Captain” intrigued him, drew him in, until he could scarcely think of anything else when the ship had passed and he’d, yet again, been forced to return to the palace.  Mycroft must have felt him drifting away, but lectures and threats would do nothing to dissuade him.  Sherlock was enamored.

And so he memorized the ship’s schedule, returning to watch and observe every time it passed.  Every day without it his mind ached in anticipation of the ship’s return, the extensive collection of human curiosities he’d acquired doing little to satiate his desire for the man with the blond hair and strong, human legs. 

When the fated day came that the sea grew angry, surging against a tempest in the skies above, Sherlock had no trouble in finding the frantic ship that held his love.  He watched, grey eyes sharp and calculating, as waves buffeted the vessel, plucking men from her decks in harsh strokes.  “Captain,” though, would not be felled.  He perched, straight and glorious on the head of the ship, his arm hooked around the wheel and rapier in hand.  He was like a god, a creature of bravery and strength.  It was the most beautiful image Sherlock had ever seen.

When the sea finally grew tired of the Captain’s fight and swallowed the ship down whole, Sherlock found him immediately.  He was sinking heavily, limbs unmoving, and Sherlock wrapped his arms around the warm, human body.  The Captain was finally his!  Fierce torrents of the need to possess, to claim, coursed through him, drowning out all other desires.  He felt victorious, sated, and complete. 

The Captain would be added to his collection, where he could observe him and study him and admire.  Forever.  He’d never part from him again.

With a hard, penetrating kiss, Sherlock took what was rightfully his, stealing Captain Watson’s last breath, and realizing too late that the only thing he ever loved was the only thing he could never keep.

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*slinks away*…

(Source: fallen-saintsam)

Well…yeah.

Hermione, I feel you, gurl.