We Can't Rewind, We've Gone Too Far

Here is a very incomplete rec list for threesentenceficathon. The last post of my own fills is back here.

First of all, a few from 2022 since I had them sitting around: ( Read more... )

And this year’s. Both posts, random order, separated by fandom. Format is title [if any], fandom [if not specified above], characters, prompt.

( Narnia )

( Other )

This is just for the second post (still open until the end of the month). Recs for fics in the first post (now closed to prompts but still open to fills and comments) are over here.

Still not anything like exhaustive, especially since I am going to be too busy in the next couple of days to wait until then to post. Also, for some of these it may help if you click show thread from start for context.

( Still lots of really good fics! )

( Actually let's cut this. ) It's been so much nicer inside my head since I drifted away from Tumblr.

So I was thinking about how you don’t really see recs for very short fic, which is a shame because short fics are amazing, and one of the things I love about fandom is that it has an accepted place for really really short fiction.

And it’s International Fanworks Day. And I started putting together a list. And then I realized that a lot of these shared a theme.

Holmes fandom has multiple - numerous -

Excellent Epistolary Fics Under 1000 Words

Songs of Spring by Waid
“At this period of my life the good Watson had passed almost beyond my ken. An occasional week-end visit was the most that I ever saw of him. Thus I must act as my own chronicler. Ah! had he but been with me, how much he might have made of so wonderful a happening and of my eventual triumph against every difficulty!”

Holmes sends the manuscript of The Lion’s Mane to the absent Watson. But perhaps his absence isn’t as longterm as all that.

[Retirement fix-it fic. Holmes writes a love letter. It’s not exactly his area of expertise.]

–

A Less Than Final Stop by JaneTurenne
Shortly after The Waterfall, John Watson begins sending telegrams.

[Hiatus fix-it fic. I’ve spent most of the past week in LJ Holmes fandom nostalgia. Things like this are why.]

–

Unsent by hardboiledbaby
Epistolary ficlet set during the hiatus.

[Holmes wants to express sympathy. And something else.]

–

Chimera by stardust_made
Holmes writes a predestined letter.

[Self awareness is what I look for in a Holmes, maybe more than anything else.]

–

A very short exploration of phone (actually telegraphic) sex and orgasm control, in which this title is several times longer than the fic itself. by Skud

[Your reccer regrets nothing.]

–

And one Sherlock fic:

Half Midnight In The Arse-Crack Of Winter by faerymorstan
A brief interlude in a roller skating bar. Yknow. Like ya do.

[Probably better in context, but I couldn’t leave it out when it’s for me. <3]

missdaviswrites:
If he laid on his left side, the damaged muscles in his shoulder protested at the weight. The obvious solution seemed to be to sleep on his right, but when he did he invariably woke up with a cramp in his leg—he’d limped on that side for too long for it ever to be fully pain-free again. If he was twenty years younger he would’ve slept on his stomach, but he wasn’t, so he slept on his back. Which would’ve been fine, if it weren’t for the dreams. Therapists, fellow doctors, friends: everyone told him that bad dreams weren’t dependent on the position in which he slept, but they were wrong. All of his nightmares ended with him flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He never told Mary, not in so many words, because what was the point? She couldn’t solve any of his problems, physical or otherwise. But after a few months of sleeping together he realized that she knew. He still had the bad dreams, but now, whenever he woke from them, she was there, a hand on his arm, skin touching skin, comforting and calming him enough that he could finally sleep in peace.

(i would write the part with room for sherlock but basically that’s already half of my posted works on AO3)

Me:
She’d trained herself to wake up as soon as the nightmares started. She didn’t always know where she’d be sleeping, or with whom, and wakefulness was better than having to explain screaming at night. Even in her new civilian life, she didn’t want to have that conversation with casual boyfriends. Easier to avoid any mention of it, any memories from it.

So when her dream-self saw lightning, or dark empty hallways, or felt the solid comfort of a gun in her hand, she woke up at once. Every time.

John didn’t. John, she knew without asking, lived through all of his awful memories again some nights, unable to stop them. Usually it was Afghanistan, now. So she tried to fall asleep facing him, touching him, so when he woke up he knew she was there.

And when she woke up she was looking right at him, every time, and knew where she was, and who she was, and why she was here.

missdaviswrites:
Sherlock never slept in John and Mary’s bed. The activities in which the three of them engaged after the baby went to bed always energized him rather than tiring him out, so he didn’t need to sleep in the space they left for him, though sometimes he liked to stay and watch them breathe. John twitched when he had nightmares; Mary’s body grew rigid and tried to draw in on itself, as if she could make herself small enough to escape from whatever pursued her. Early on he tried drugging them both into a more restful slumber, but his efforts had not been well-received, so he learned other ways to soothe: deep, soft whispers, a gentle nudge, the sound of his violin playing from the next room. When it seemed they both had a particularly unsettled night, he would take care of the baby’s breakfast and morning routine for them, letting them sleep as long as possible after the sun rose, when they transitioned into better dreams. No one ever mentioned any of this, but they all knew they had found the best arrangement possible for three people who’d once been so thoroughly alone.

(Miss Davis, if you see this and want it down/elsewhere just tell me <3)

Want to ask a professional chef weird questions? Now's your chance!

Enemy of Perfect says everything I think about Google.

I like using gmail. And Youtube. And Google. As separate things. I don't want one account connecting them, and I definitely don't want a completely useless (for me) social media site hammered onto it. I quit Facebook because of the privacy concerns, but at least Facebook wasn't trying to take over my whole internet.

But I don't want to stop using Google services.

And I do understand that that means I have to let Google services use me, at least as a pair of eyeballs. But I liked our previous arrangement, where they showed me ads and I ignored them.

So first of all, thanks to breathedout and grlgoddess for the Yuletide fics!

My god, I read The Violet Hour months ago and loved it, and now she wrote something just for me and oh wow.

Ahem.

And my own Yuletide fic:

Title: Can You See Anything?
Author: Violsva
Fandom: Elemental Masters - Mercedes Lackey
Rating: G
Warnings: Ghosts?
Word Count: 3233
Summary: It is 1922, and Howard Carter has one last square on his grid to excavate in his search for Tutankhamen’s tomb. Time for England’s magicians to finally pay back a debt.

At AO3.

It's about the ethics of archaeology. This was quite fun, really. I think I'll do it again. And possibly come up with recommendations later.

janice_lester says Give Sexy Actors Sexy Wheelchairs! I say, wow, those are some damn awesome machines. Go look!

And! people in wheelchairs going up stairs! so cool!

via kate_nepveu