We're gonna run out of cake at this rate

♥ THE PAN-FANDOM HIGH SCHOOL AU FIC CHALLENGE ♥


♥ GEN AND/OR ALL PAIRINGS/THREESOMES/MORESOMES WELCOME
♥ ART/FIC/MIX/VID/PODFIC WELCOME
♥ ALL FANDOMS WELCOME
♥ NO SHIP-SHAMING OR SHIPPING WARS, PLEASE
♥ DRINK NOT OF THE HATERADE; REPEAT OFFENDERS WILL BE BANNED
♥ PLEASE WARN FOR ANY TRIGGERS YOU CAN THINK OF (USE THE AO3 WARNING SYSTEM)
♥ NO CLOSING DATE OR TIME
♥ PLEASE HELP SPREAD THE WORD! \0/
♥ HAVE FUN! :D

All right, well, DISTRACTION WHILE I'M TRYING NOT TO CHEW OFF A LIMB IN ANTICIPATION.

My entry for this year's sherlockmas.


Title: Not what is said, but what is whispered
Characters/Pairing: John/Sherlock, Mycroft/Lestrade, The Yard
Category: Slash
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Word Count: ~2,100
Warnings: angst, meta, humour, epistolary-style fic
Summary: It takes The Yard's unparalleled policing talents to alert John Watson to the fact that his blog is in fact much more popular than he imagines. There are... stories online. About him. And Sherlock. Together. Naturally, John turns to Sherlock for a bit of a rant, expecting him to understand. It backfires spectacularly when it turns out that Sherlock hasn't been entirely honest with him...
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to the wonderful stardust_made, for the most insightful suggestions that have vastly improved the piece. <3 Title adapred from a quote by Logan Pearsall Smith. Originally posted here.


( Have you lot seen this? )

Watching ASiP for like the 12th time, and I'm remembering what it was like, seeing it for the first time over a year ago now, how it completely blindsided me with its sheer awesomeness, and Benedict and Martin being badass mofos, and so fucking fit and clever and nnnngh CHEMISTRY. I remember begging the two of them to leave off so I could finish this Inception story I was writing at the time and give them all due attention. And i remember falling in love with them completely, instantly, I remember making my whole family watch the episodes (mum and dad loved them, my sister prefers the RDJ and Jude Law version, which okay, is also fantastic). God, these guys. Lestrade. Anthea. Mycroft. I don't fucking understand how it can be so awesome, still, after so many re-watches. I suppose it helps that there's not really any sub about the text, but still. I want to write ALL THE STORIES, again. Okay, so the subtitles are shite, but I can still listen to it properly, and that helps a lot. (BC's voice, Jesus.) GAH, I HAVE ALL THE IDEAS AGAIN. GODDAMN YOU, SHOW.

In other news, the biscuits I baked earlier -- kind of got a litle burned. D: Oh well, I can have them crumbled with some yoghurt and bananas for breakfast if worse comes to worst. Tired now. Gonna go to bed as soon as the ep is over. Tomorrow I'll be babysitting and knuckling down to write my mini essay for the U of E application. I'm gonna write it on subcultures, I've decided -- probably on fandom, too. I AM EXCITE. \0/ And I'll probably do some writing, too, bearing in mind 2.03 will be ready for download tomorrow! :D :D

Title: Rolling in the deep
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: R
Length: ~2,800
Summary: Sherlock decides it's really the best idea ever to trail a suspect to Manchester's Canal Street and straight into a bar. And of course, once there, covers must be upheld. For prompt #8: Innuendo cocktail names.
Warnings: Thwarted assault. Sherlock being a sexy mofo and a shameless tease. UST like whoa. John Pining. John being his awesome self. Hurt/comfort. Sherlock to the rescue. Fluff.
Notes: I... have no idea what happened here. This was going to be a very short, very silly 'Sherlock being a horrible tease and drinking cocktails in a rather filthy manner and John trying not to combust' thing, and it turned into this. I blame Paradox, a fantastic series set in Manchester that I marathoned last night. Canal Street, I miss you! And of course, trouble follows those two everywhere, we all know that. I'm sorry this isn't HP-themed! I've just been feeling those two recently! Femme, you are wonderful and fantastic and I love you! <3 Title from Adelle's song of the same name. Written for hpfemme_love Speed Pr0nz.


( 'Hello,' Sherlock says cheerfully (for him), sliding onto the adjacent bar stool and perching those legs of his onto the prop running along the bottom half of the bar. 'I'd like a Blow Job, please.' )

Tonight I heard some wonderful news. It was that a Bulgarian gardener (rather thin on the ground, all things considered) has won the right to exhibit at the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show. Which is brilliant, and I'm so happy, and well done that man. That's not the strange part. The strange part was as follows. Upon hearing said wonderful news, I spontaneously burst into tears.

I've been thinking about England, and Oxford, rather a lot today, what with irisbleufic's wonderful news, and -- well, apparently I'm not as okay with leaving my life there behind as I thought I was. I was a little overwhelmed by the rather violent reaction, and even tidying up the washing couldn't get me out of my funk. (For those not in the know, I am a stress tidier/cleaner/ironer/baker).

So you know what had to happen, right? The only thing to cheer me up a bit? Filthy, filthy porn. It was the only way.

Besides, I was quite sick of tinkering with this on Google Docs; I've been working on it for months already. Strangely, it's the first story that I've written this way -- in segments here and there. Usually it has to flow naturally, A then B then C in order, but here it was all over the place, and then I was piecing parts together. I reckon that's why it's taken me so damn long to get it done, and edited, and to a stage that I actually like what I've written.

You guys, this is quite, quite shameless. It's been ages since I've written so. Much. Smut. In one story. I'm almost a little embarrassed to post it -- but it's utter self-indulgence, and kink indulgence, and I just have to get it out there already. DON'T JUDGE ME. At least, not too harshly! :D


Title: Leave a Trail
Word count: ~5,300
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rimming, object penetration, really explicit sex, a serious tattoo kink, mild angst, possessive!Sherlock and happy-with-it!John
Disclaimer: Sherlock and John in this incarnation belong to The Moff, Gatiss and the BBC, as well as to ACD.
Summary: John has a present for Sherlock; Sherlock definitely approves.
Notes: This started life as a small Boxing Day PWP aiming to showcase my rather huge tattoo kink -- but as most of you may know, I just CAN'T write PWPs, so a fair amount of plot snuck its way in. There are so many fab pieces out there on the subject of tattoos, and what they mean, and their psychological impact; I first started thinking about it after reading thinkpink20's version (where it's Sherlock who gets the tattoo), and then wordstrings' latest story came out, and I just had to sit down and start writing. There's a lot of personal stuff in this story, in that it closely reflects my views on the whole tattooing lark. Anyway, onto the fic! Title comes from the following quote: Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail, by Ralph Waldo Emerson, because I rather think it says a lot about Sherlock and John and what they mean to each other. For tattoo_kink, who requested just such a story the other day for Make Me A Monday and gave me the much-needed kick up the arse to finally get this finished.


( Leave a Trail )

So. I'm feeling A LOT BETTER. I've been doing some writing, too! I knocked out an Arthur/Eames story in about six hours, AND IT'S LESS THAN 4,000 WORDS, THANK FUCK, I CAN WRITE SHORT STUFF AGAIN. /dead. It needs a wee bit of polishing, so it's going to get posted tomorrow.

Next stop -- I'm hesitating between sorting out my Christmas A/E exchange early and getting stuck into the Ultimate Survivor AU that I've been obsessing over for a week now. I have a feeling the latter will win. Of course, what I should be doing is studyng for that pesky exam I have next week, but -- "Oh, DULL."

Meanwhile, have some Sherlock/John Kiss-Or-Die, written for moony's awesome Kissing Meme and partially inspired by this amazing piece of art.


( A Kissing Game )

( And by 'it', I mean 'me'. Cut for a massively long post. )

Also, have a little ficlet (that I wrote for the fluff meme I pimped earlier).

( jealous!Arthur )