calaisreno

[calaisreno]

WEEESI READS

aka fic rec series where I scream "you need to read this!" into the void

Indefinite Lines by arwamachine

I know I'm late on this one and I can only apologise to myself for that really. Compelling casefic, cinematic writing, interesting narrative structure, the cutest Rosie incarnation this side of s4, and plenty - PLENTY - of angst and comfort. Incredible character voices, including one of the best Sherlocks I've ever read. Head the tags re: whump though, because hoo boy. @arwamachine is responsible for creating a term that I now think about once a day which I will refer to here as m*** s****** for fear of spoilers. Don't miss Bonus Lines, which is a collection of incredible deleted/bonus scenes that accompanies the fic.

2. Thankless (a 5 + 1) by Silvergirl

Do you love Lestrade? Do you love @totallysilvergirl? Lucky for you, I already knew your answer to both of those questions was OF COURSE YES, WHY DO YOU ASK. As it says on the tin, a 5 + 1 wherein we revisit key moments throughout the series where Lestrade helps Sherlock until, finally, it finally sinks in (hopefully before it's too late). Gorgeous, lush, emotionally resonant writing across the board. I adore Silver's Lestrade (and pretty much everything Silver writes, honestly, including the epic, fantastically written Drawn to Stars and the heartachy, beautifully written A Case of You) and I'm 100% positive you will too.

3. Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords

I love a super unique fic idea and @discordantwords always seems to have an endless supply. How they do it, I would love to know. This fic. THIS FIC. I don't want to give any spoilers but the inherent premise is just sooooo clever. Precise and devastating writing, excellent plotting, with spot-on character details and dialogue (as usual). You should also read their heartbreaking (and heart-healing) s4 fix-it (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea after you give this one a go!

If you're interested in more fic recs, let me know!

#johnlock fic recs #bbc sherlock #fandom love

[calaisreno]

Forget Me Not by Calais Reno

John gives up memories in order to save Sherlock.

Now the blue eye is focused on him, the brown one wandering. “Look at me, John. What happens in the mind is more than reason. You will not save him with cold, hard facts. Saving him will require your imagination.” For just a second, both eyes line up. The world stills around him. He’s never felt so focused.

Thank you for reading and reblogging!

@mydogwatson @lisbeth-kk  @totallysilvergirl  @keirgreeneyes  @startrekker2011  @iamjustreading @original-welovethebeekeeper  @meetinginsamarra  @thegildedbee  @chinike @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart  @jolieblack  @ninasnakie  @13monkton  @dissolvinggirl  @confused-sherlockian  @thesaltofcarthage  @still-prefer-books  @kestrelwing64  @luna06newman  @whatnext2020 @demonicangeling @copperplatebeech @mxster-jocale @missdeliadili @loves-to-read-fanfic

#my fics #bbc sherlock #johnlock #john watson #amnesia #thank you for reblogging! #forget me not #many happy returns #speculative fiction

[calaisreno]

“Game” for @sherlockchallenge

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch

[calaisreno]

Lovely! Sherlock is 🥰

Sherlock fandom.

Zealous Movement

John hates it, Sherlock loves it. 

“Too many people. Crowded. Hateful,” John grumbles.

“Yes, to the amount, no to latter. It’s fascinating,” Sherlock tells him.

John huffs and holds on to the sleeve of Sherlock’s coat when the train comes rushing into the Embankment station.

“Don’t even try to get rid of me,” John hisses when Sherlock tries to wrestle his arm free from John’s iron grip.

Sherlock looks at John and realises that perspiration is coating John’s forehead, and his eyes have something reminiscent of panic about them. He moves closer to John, interlacing their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock murmurs in John’s ear. 

John relaxes and exhales shakily when they walk through the doors to the carriage. Ever since Sherlock came back from the dead, John’s been dreading being apart from him, particularly when they’re taking the tube. In a flash, Sherlock may vanish again, deliberately or not, but John has a hard time coping. He tries, but today is not a good day for it.

“Come here,” Sherlock says, manhandling John to stand beside the opposite doors.

He crowds in on John, shielding him from the other passengers with the Belstaff, creating a cocoon for the two of them. John holds on to the lapels of the great coat and takes steadying breaths to calm himself. Sherlock’s low murmurings help too.

“I’m here, John. Safe. Home. With you. Always. I love you.”

John’s on the brink of tears and leans his forehead against Sherlock’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeats.

“Alive. Safe. Home,” John whispers to himself.

The train is loud and fast, racing through the tunnels of London’s underground. Steady, like heartbeats. Reliable when there’s no strikes or other obstacles. 

John understands why Sherlock loves it. After all, he’s always on the move himself. Even when he’s lying on the sofa at Baker Street, his brain is running the halls of his mind palace. 

Before the Fall, John thought nothing of taking the tube. He did it all the time, though he did prefer a proper train. The speed felt slower, and there wasn’t a rush to get off and change lines. And you were mostly overground. Things to look at. Less crowded.

Screeching brakes bring John back from his reverie. He’s still enveloped in Sherlock’s embrace, his smell, his even breathing, his reassuring heartbeats.

“This is our stop,” Sherlock says softly. “Ready?”

John looks up into cerulean eyes that are concerned, worried. He cradles Sherlock’s cheek and nods.

“Let’s do this,” John says confidently. “How hard can it be?”

“Well, if anyone would know, it’d be you, John. You did after all invade Afghanistan,” Sherlock quips and kisses John’s palm.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @safedistancefrombeingsmart @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @raina-at @gregorovitch-adler @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @7-percent @ninasnakie @peanitbear

#flash fiction friday #bbc sherlock #rushing train #johnlock

[calaisreno]

Chapters: ¼ Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson (mentioned), Sherlock Holmes’ Parents, Holmes Family - Character, Sebastian Wilkes Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, accidental fake dating, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Oblivious Sherlock, Oblivious John, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Christmas fic, holiday fluff, The tropes all the tropes, Sherlock’s parents aren’t nice, AU, Unilock, they’re just done with Uni but still Unilock, different first meeting, various sex acts between consenting adults, Alcohol, mention of past drug use, mention of alcoholism, Christmas fake dating romcom, Seriously Sherlock’s parents are the worst Summary:

Sherlock hates spending Christmas with his snobby parents. John has nowhere to go over the holidays. The heat in 221B is broken and their fridge is empty. Plus, Sherlock’s parents will hate John. So of course Sherlock takes John along. It’s not his fault that his parents assume John’s his boyfriend. Of course John is perfect and all, but Sherlock doesn’t do romance. So what harm can there be in pretending, if it makes his parents this mad?

Thank you darling wife @nuttersinc for the plot bunny, and thank you superstar @jrow for the beta.

This is my Christmas fic in April, people. It’s completely written, I’m posting the chapters as they come out of beta.

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

Weiterlesen

#guess who's coming to christmas dinner #bbc sherlock #johnlock #christmas fic #complete #need to catch up!

[calaisreno]

Ceremony - rated M, ~ 725 words

Inspired by a bit of art by @mielpetite on their patre0n, which I'll link if it's generally released!

Read on AO3, if you prefer

“Do hold still, dear. One doesn’t want to stain the tablecloth.”

“You want me to. Ng. Hold still, stop… doing that.”

“Nantaimori is a celebration of both victory – which I think I can fairly say we have earned – and of beauty – of artfully prepared food, and of the human body. I am admiring the one before enjoying the other.”

“ ‘M’not – ah – human.” Crowley’s breath trembled with the control required to avoid disturbing the collation displayed on his torso. A morsel of salmon nigiri below the arc of each collarbone, the glistening deep coral of the fish echoing the touch of light on the springy thatch that spread across his chest; a single pressed mackerel oshizushi at his breastbone, the black-over-white of the nori-wrapped rice block like a bit of formal dress; colourful temari balls, topped with miniature collages of seaweed and egg and radish and arranged just below the dark knots of his nipples. A row of hosomaki, like Brighton Rock made of nori and rice, perched in file above the sharp projection of each hipbone, their centres little jewels of cucumber and tuna and plum.

Aziraphale’s hand rested on his thigh, fingertips a ghosting touch at the hollow of his groin.

‘You are wearing a human corporation, dear. Which I for one find particularly… edifying. Oh, my, who would have thought this would… affect you so."

“Edify you.”

“In good time, I’m sure. That’s it, just breathe yourself down. I think… hm, yes, an orderly progression is the best. It’s customary to use chopsticks for this presentation – the inlaid ones, I think – “ Crowley suppressed a startled twitch as the points of lacquered wood ohashi traced a twin path below his right collarbone. The slight weight of the nigiri lifted from his skin, leaving a faint moist spot that for moment nearly overwhelmed his senses, nerve endings rioting in his enforced repose.

“Ambrosial. Just the touch of a light shoyu, a particle of wasabi, enough to tantalize…  perhaps a sliver of ginger gari with the other. It’s like a bit of frosted glass. Oh, look at you. There’s only one bit of you that can move. A glorious sight.”

Crowley whined faintly as the blunt tip of the chopsticks grazed the corona of hair around his nipple, lifting away the first of the little temari sculptures.

“Almost too pretty to eat. But then, this is also a celebration of the brevity of beauty, the importance of the moment. And your beauty…” Another brush; a struggle not to arch his back, to ask for more touch. “It endures. Through all your forms, in all the eras. I’m often given to contemplation of it.”

The single, formal briquet of oshi plucked from his breastbone. A short silence, broken by the soft hum of the angel’s enjoyment, a sound that drew a deep, low groan from Crowley in answer.

“Dear, you can stay the course. One isn't to rush. After everything else we’ve done…”

The sharp intake of breath as the chopsticks brushed his belly, a seismic tremor that he barely suppressed.

“Oh, you’re doing so well… I know you’re longing to be touched. Patience. You’re so beautiful like this. It’s very distracting, but one is to focus on the moment – mm. The pickled plum. That little bit of fire from the wasabi radish – like you, sweet and fiery – do you know there is also a custom of discarding the chopsticks completely? A full appreciation of the perfectly imperfect body, the fleeting moment – “ Soft lips brushed the peak of Crowley’s hipbone, closed over the cucumber maki poised there. There was no help for it; his neck arched with a little strangled sob.

“Almost done, dear. You’re doing swimmingly. The last of the yellowtail – nearest the centre –” The brush of lips again, ruffling the coiling hairs that spread out from the base of his belly, so close.

“Superb. How are you doing, my love?”

Answer seemed impossible. Only breath, trembling down into  the depths of his corporation and out again, each a fleeting moment in time, each a prayer.

“So very lovely. Stay like that, my darling, exactly like that… You know the rule of the ceremony.” The brief gurgle of green tea into a dainty cup, the hum of appreciation as Aziraphale cleansed his palate. “There’s still something left here, something exquisite. And you’re not to move until the repast is complete.”

Comment on AO3

Tagging in the replies as usual! Let me know if you want to be added to the list or removed from it.

#good omens ficlet #food erotica #sushi #body worship #please do reblog!

[calaisreno]

Happy Birthday John Watson!!

Blog on you beautiful bi disaster and hope your consulting boyfriend gives you lots of kisses!!

#john watson

[calaisreno]

Chapters: ¼ Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson (mentioned), Sherlock Holmes’ Parents, Holmes Family - Character, Sebastian Wilkes Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, accidental fake dating, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Oblivious Sherlock, Oblivious John, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Christmas fic, holiday fluff, The tropes all the tropes, Sherlock’s parents aren’t nice, AU, Unilock, they’re just done with Uni but still Unilock, different first meeting, various sex acts between consenting adults, Alcohol, mention of past drug use, mention of alcoholism, Christmas fake dating romcom, Seriously Sherlock’s parents are the worst Summary:

Sherlock hates spending Christmas with his snobby parents. John has nowhere to go over the holidays. The heat in 221B is broken and their fridge is empty. Plus, Sherlock’s parents will hate John. So of course Sherlock takes John along. It’s not his fault that his parents assume John’s his boyfriend. Of course John is perfect and all, but Sherlock doesn’t do romance. So what harm can there be in pretending, if it makes his parents this mad?

Thank you darling wife @nuttersinc for the plot bunny, and thank you superstar @jrow for the beta.

This is my Christmas fic in April, people. It’s completely written, I’m posting the chapters as they come out of beta.

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

Weiterlesen

#guess who's coming to christmas dinner #bbc sherlock #johnlock #christmas fic #update

[calaisreno]

brainstorming notes:

For John Watson's beloved wife:

Mary Morstan Watson

Mary is a Black woman holding a tiny purse in in a casual mutton chop jacket and bell shaped skirt, her curly hair is tied into a bun.

Original illustration by @gooolabatooo for When the Rose Speaks Its Name: A Sherlock Holmes Anthology.

To learn more about the anthology or to join the pre-order mailing list visit:

@england-would-fall @momma2boys @bluebuell33 @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @blogstandbygo @naefelldaurk @mybestfriendmademe @iamjustreading @calaisreno @jrow @stellacartography

#when the rose speaks its name #mary morstan #original art #gooolabatooo

[calaisreno]

23 April 1938: The Last Envoy arrives on Earth

The first time I saw a tree, I was enchanted. I had, of course, read about them, and other flora as well, but was not prepared for the sheer size, number, and variety of these creatures. They were much larger than I’d anticipated. The sound they made when wind blew through their branches was overwhelming. I had no words, and even now I cannot describe the effect it had on my ears. It took me a while to understand that they were not actually speaking.

It was spring, and I was on an island. I had already completed my landing tasks and was taking time to explore the environs. A light rain was falling. Plants were growing so rapidly that I could almost hear them breaking through the soil. The vast sea surrounding the island was in constant motion, not because of the season, but as a result of the moon’s gravitational pull and global air currents. Roughly seventy-one percent of this world is covered with water, more than I’d ever seen in one place. This planet teems with life, all fascinating and so beautiful.

I did not yet understand very much about the humans of this world. This was, in part, why I was here, to learn about them. I was not aware that my landing had occurred at a critical moment in the planet’s history, when my mere presence could change everything, for good or bad. My only thought at that time was that I had arrived at my long journey’s end.

The name of this island is Britain, and its inhabitants speak English. I had landed in the North Sea, off the coast of Britain, and come ashore in a place called Scotland. In the British calendar, it was the twenty-third day of April in the year A.D. 1938 (I will continue to use their archaic dating system in my report, but will share a system of conversion in an appendix hereto.)

My feelings compel me to present this information as a story, out of courtesy to those who will eventually hear it and make it part of our Memories. Words are important; they should not be treated as mere data.

To present my report as a story, however, I should begin in medias res, as Doctor Watson says— in the middle of the thing. My problem is that I am not sure what the middle of my story is, and cannot know until it is over, at which point it will be too late to write it properly. Therefore, I will begin by describing how I met Doctor Watson.

It's April 23 again, not only Shakespeare's Birthday and National Book Day, but the day Ao/Sherlock landed in the North Sea and got his first look at Earth.

And it's been one year since I started posting this story! Read the rest HERE.

Thank you to all who have read this and left wonderful comments!

#2 years ago #the last envoy #sherlock holmes

[calaisreno]

CHAPTER 17 - Another Love

"Can I ask one more question?” John snuffs a soft laugh. Surely this is the least he can do for a man whose home he has invaded, whose life he has disrupted and who has had to listen to him rave about another Sherlock from another plane of existence, whatever that means. He nods. “What would you have done if I’d been him? If I’d been the man you were looking for? If you’d found Sherlock living here?”

Sorry to anyone who is still folllowing this one - I promise we are nearly done. I won't leave anyone hanging! There's even some answers in this chapter! There will likely be one more chapter and an epilogue after this (although when that will be posted is anyone's guess.) Thank you for being so patient and sticking with me.

If you want to read it from the beginning it's here.

#only yesterday #bertie #fic reccie

[calaisreno]

Beautiful story. ❤️

::deep breath::

It’s done! It’s done! Chapter 7 is up.

Written for @thetimemoves, who bid on me in the @fandomtrumpshate charity auction.

#fic reccie

[calaisreno]

It's my Birthday today so I'm doing a fundraiser for a new wheelchair!

My Electric wheelchair is sadly now 12 years old and is being held together with gaffer tape and love! I really need a new one and as it is my 50th Birthday I thought I could try to fund-raise and ask folks to please help with buying a replacement chair.

'Just Giving' Wheelchair fund-raiser link Here

About Nixxie - My Wheelchair is my lifeline. I use it inside my flat to get about as my body sadly doesn't work anymore (please read the Just giving page for details on my disabilities). I also use the chair to get out into my garden... and also anytime I need to leave the house - it gets a lot of mileage - hence why it is sadly starting to show its age! About 3 years ago the welding that holds on the arm failed and cannot be repaired - so the arm bracket is held on with gaffer tape and hot-glue. The batteries hardly hold any charge anymore, one of the wheel-arches got plastic fatigue a few years ago and just plain twisted off! Also all the under panels are held on with velcro, tape and hope! (pictures of all this on the donation page).

I originally bought my powerchair in 2012 to go to London as I'd won tickets to visit the Paralympics with a carer... however I don't trust it now to even go a few miles as I'm petrified another bit will fall off!! A while after I bought my chair I went to a Sci-Fi convention and dressed my wheelchair up as the Tardis to match my costume... I liked it so much that my chair has been Tardis cosplaying ever since!

I try my hardest to still live a life worth living - and even though my body needs to recover for ages afterwards I still try to get out every now and then to do something good.

So that's about it - my diagnosis is that I will never get any better (In fact it's likely I'll carry on getting worse as I get older), so I thought to put this page up to get help in the fundraising as wheelchairs cost a huge amount more than people think and sadly there is no way I can afford it alone. So please if you could, donate - Even if it's only a bit - anything towards being able to go out safely would be SO Amazing and I am utterly thankful to you for your aid.

And please please share this page to spread the joy! *hugs*

[calaisreno]

Chapter 17 is now on AO3

The Murder of Sir Emory J. Amat  by ChrisCalledMeSweetie

A Sherlock Holmes mystery, as recounted by Dr. John H. Watson.

Can you follow the clues to deduce whodunnit?

Chapter 17: Frank Kent

“A deduction of mine, that was all,” said Holmes mildly. “I am famous for my deductions.”

“Are you really?” asked Anderson, studying him with a befuddled expression. 

Superintendent Baynes went into a roar of laughter. 

“Many’s the time I’ve heard Inspector Lestrade say that. Mr. Holmes and his deductions! Too fanciful for me, he’d say, but always something in them.” 

Nodding his head in a sage manner, Holmes walked out into the street. 

He and I lunched together at an hotel. I know now that the whole thing lay clearly unravelled before him. He had got the last thread he needed to lead him to the truth. 

But at the time I had no suspicion of the fact. I overestimated his general self-confidence, and I took it for granted that the things which puzzled me must be equally puzzling to him.

Tags under the cut.

Please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you.

@mydogwatson @totallysilvergirl @bluebellofbakerstreet @sarahthecoat @helloliriels @daisyfairy1 @imnova @kittenmadnessandtea @missdeliadilisblog @marta-bee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @iwantthatbelstaffanditsoccupant @jobooksncoffee @peanitbear @bakingsherlycakes @kettykika78 @stellacartography @shelleysprometheus @iamjustreading @chinike @sgam76 @loves-to-read-fanfic @inevitably-johnlocked @johnlockismyreligion @riversong912 @calaisreno @7-percent @lijahlover @thegildedbee @naefelldaurk

#oh yesss #johnlock #agatha christie #case fic

[calaisreno]

thinking about that post of people assuming ao3 has an algorithm and also about how bonkers persistent the view is that ao3 is social media lite. like with startling regularity I get comments saying something along the lines of "it's probably weird to comment on a fic this old--" no it isn't!!!! this is an archive I am literally just assuming you searched for a selection of specific tags or sorted by kudos or looked back on my pseud or any other number of completely normal ways to use an archive site ?? kill the tiktok ghost in your brain and comment on old stuff it's NOT weird

#fandom #ao3

[calaisreno]

🔔

#sherlock fanart #cute

[calaisreno]

For who follows my writing.

Both my original Sherlock AU ghost story "Light" and its sequel "Storm" are now completely done!

You can find "Light" here:

And "Storm" here:

#vanimelda4 #fan fiction #sherlock bbc #alternate universe #now complete #go read this