In which John moves back in with Sherlock after Mary dies, bringing his son Hamish and a thousand echoes of the past into the rooms of 221B. This is gorgeously, perfectly rendered. Sparse and considered in all the best ways.

In which there is a temperamental swan and a modestly sized duck. Sigh. I finally gave in and read this, and lo, it was just as adorable as everyone's always said it is.

In which John gets amnesia and mistakenly thinks he and Sherlock were together before he lost his memories, and Sherlock can't bear to correct him. So sorry it's taken me so long to read this, I should have known better, I LOVE dramatic irony, why did I deny myself this?? Ugh, so good.

In which John is Sherlock's guardian angel, and it's kind of a shit job. Hahahahaha, gorgeous. Which contains the line:

“I should put in for a transfer,” John says. “Go back to soldiers. They died a lot less.”

In which Sherlock is a fashion photographer and John is a model, and you know, somehow, it works. Delightfully zany and even more delightfully in-character.

In which Sherlock's Mind Palace has always had a throne room, though who sits on the throne changes over the years. This was exquisitely realized and wholly amazing.

In which Sherlock was born cold, except of course she wasn't. Ooooh, I liked this one even better.

In which Sherlock is striking and Joan Watson's never been more willing to take a blow.

In which John sees people's red strings, and surprisingly, it only makes him turn out stranger. Not surprisingly at all, his string is attached to Sherlock.

In which there is a PWP where the clothes come on, not off. SUIT-LIKE CLOTHES. MILITARY DRESS-LIKE CLOTHES. Sherlock, you are a man after my own kink set. Although honestly, some of Sherlock's voice here sounded a little off for me, but did I mention the suit porn? And the ending was perfect. And also the suit porn. That was actual porn. I apologize, but this is monopolizing a great deal of my mental capacity at the moment, I'm sure you understand.

OMFG, YES, GOOD.

Full-body goosebumps. I seriously can't get over it. Fuck you, Pavlovian reaction to the Inception soundtrack. No, but really, excellent use of Chris Nolan's oeuvre.

In which Molly has her own life, and it's more complex than people tend to give her credit for, and she /lives it/. Lord above, this fic was a commitment and a half. 25,000 words of life happening, which was interesting and lovely, but not, you know, gripping literature, but then the reward is 25,000 more words of mind-blowing perfection going off like a bomb in my face and my /heart/, CHRIST. There are no words for the faces I made reading this. There was one point where I was smiling so hard I actually felt my face go manic and creepy and had to corral my features into something more normal just to make sure they didn't stick that way. /Christ/, this fic. Yes.

In which Gregory Lestrade is Georgiana Lestrade, and she's amazing, and so are the Holmeses, when they're not occupied with being terrible. Yes, yes, yes, seriously, yes. I was screaming with laughter and blushing with pleasure and completely won over, 100%, a thousand times yes.

In which Sherlock discovers that John is a medical marvel in addition to being a marvel in so many other ways. This was quite interesting! Though I think I would have liked it better if the obvious metaphor hadn't been so explicitly spelled out. But it was a sweet as fuck metaphor, so I think I'm okay with what I got here.

In which we see the early days of Sherlock and Molly's association. Oh my god, for something pre-S2, this fic's characterization is almost scarily prescient.

In which they live in a world where people produce gemstones as manifestations of their wishes and desires. This was very cool, an extremely neat and clever magical realism character exploration. I was thrown a bit by the epic climax. It was all a little bit Sailor Moon for me, quite the Silver Crystal-producing moment, if you catch my implication...? But I've been conditioned to be delighted by stuff like that, so it ultimately worked for me. Others might find it a bit cloying.

In which John doesn't exactly move on with his life, but he doesn't exactly stop moving either. Sequel to The Perils of Urban Warfare, but S2 compliant (mostly--here, they were together romantically during it). This was hard, full of thoughts on mourning and the long, slow effort of living through it. I was unsatisfied with where the fic ended, but I can't imagine any other way it could or should have ended. It's a fic about how unsatisfying loss of this magnitude is. It fits.

In which John holds out as long as he can, but there's only so much he can hold back when his best friend's just been resurrected. This didn't seem very English, lololol. But I absolutely loved the idea of John feeling himself healing as fresh kind of agony.

This vid is actually unfair. I started out loling because of the song choice and a questionable use of the ~so heterosexual~ spin from TBB, but around the halfway point I was sucked in and suddenly violently choking up. By the end, I was completely gone. On my tombstone, I want it to read "strangled by Sherlock feels," and I want this vid brought up on charges of involuntary manslaughter. Fuck this fandom, seriously. The hiatus turned us all into sentimental sadomasochists.

In which Molly keeps Sherlock's secrets, and his counsel. Ahhh, Molly, my stars. This was lovely.

In which John and Lestrade and eventually a small crowd start meeting in memory of Sherlock. This was really, really lovely. Bittersweeet, but quietly--like a consolation, or an apology, or a promise--just a bit more sweet than bitter.

In which John finds out there was a will.

In which the first thing the newly-departed Sherlock Holmes does is call Irene Adler. This is everything I want in too small and short a package. I just need these two being psychotic dorks together and Molly as their contact in England being just as dorky and blessedly not as psychotic. I want that fic added to this fic. Then I would have everything I want.

In which Benedict falls in love with his costar, and then slowly finds his way out of the mire of it. This was unbelievably, beautifully, heart-rendingly done. I wouldn't have thought I'd care enough, but this fic made me care a thousand times over, deep into my bones.

In which Sherlock asks for advice in composing a love letter. I am 100% positive I've already read this fic, and yet I do not appear to have saved it? POOR JOB, PAST ME. This is very, very cute.

In which John and Sherlock are blood bonded, which means something very specific in this universe, something incredibly complex and fascinating. Written pre-S2, but post a non-canon Reichenbach. When I say this fic is complex and fascinating, I really, really mean it. As usual, Luchia writes enchanting fantasy AUs that are somehow chilling and wryly funny and completely in character all at the same time. My one big criticism is that it ends on an aprupt note. It's warned for, but I don't think I was really prepared for how hard my heart would be left screaming for a continuation.

In which John barely makes it out of the pool alive, but it is Sherlock who does not make it out of the pool unchanged. Pre-S2 canon. I wanted to like this more than I did, for connected reasons. The first is that the arc of the fic was metaphoric in a really unsubtle way that I found I couldn't appreciate. And second, Sherlock suffering under that metaphor was not quite brilliant enough for me to feel like he was believably characterized. By that, I think I mean he felt normal things, and dealt with them normally (at least from a psychological standpoint), and that was a huge disconnect for me. As a normal human being caught in a similar sort of self-imposed limbo, I was deeply weirded out to have Sherlock living my stupid life, when the reason to love him is that he lives a much more crazy/impossible i.e. brilliant one.

In which Sherlock keeps his own council, and then bees, and eventually John Watson.

In which John works, and waits, and isn't crazy. It's really unfair to have read The Perfect Post-Reichenbach Fic less than a week after the damn episode aired. The catharsis in this fic is a force to be reckoned with. The infinitely careful and yet brutal honesty of it something to cherish.

In which there is an underground movement.

In which John talks to his therapist, and to Sherlock, and fails to move on. Well, that hurt like a kick in the teeth.

In which Sherlock and John meet playing an MMORPG (WoW?) instead of through Mike. And it's amazing. OMG ETOTHEPII. THE SHERLOCK FANDOM IS OFFICIALLY BACK ON FOR ME NOW.

UGH, no one told me greensilver did a Sherlock vid? Shame on you all.

In which John writes himself notes, and some stick out to Sherlock. Wow, for 444 words, this sure does pack a FEELINGS punch.

Wow, this was really fun and it fit so well!

Well, that's gorgeous.

In which Sherlock is unfairly distracting, and one day John will figure out how to resist, but it is not this day.

In which John is a BNF author and fandom's darling, while Sherlock is a combative BNF fanartist who can't seem to keep himself off fandom_wank. Together, they fight sockpuppets (also, crime). A complex and utterly delightful love letter to the Sherlock Holmes fandom in all of its many interpretations and reincarnations. Completely wonderful. // YESSSSS, MASTERPOST. Usually I'd just go back and edit my save of the kinkmeme entry, but that's so full of roleplaying accounts and various reader-based ephemera that I actually want to save both of these. This version is probably more readable though. :)

In which John comes home to Sherlock in a dress. This was kind of absurdly perfect for them. There was a moment in the middle where I thought the author might not pull it off, but no, it came off absolutely right. I liked that the crossdressing element was very specifically not a genderplay thing so much as a generalized (if unusual) admission of a desire for intimacy. It's the exposure, more than the posturing, that makes it work for them. That reassured my inner gender studies critic. Anyway, their exchange at the end was impossibly endearing, so I'm prepared to admit a forgiving bias.

In which Sherlock, John, and a very harried real estate agent search the English countryside for the perfect place for an aging detective and his partner to retire. That poor, poor real estate agent. I'm so sorry Carol. (But I'm not sorry at allllll. >:D)

In which caring is awful, but somehow Sherlock has managed to fall into the trap anyway. Oh, this was criminally adorable. Petulant Sherlock, wry John, and then there is that one completely devastating flash of insight, yes, yes, yes, this fic is awesome.

I think I've seen most of these, but I must return and make ABSOLUTELY SURE, hahaha.

In which Sherlock has a very unique, and yet very familiar near-death experience. WOAH, NERDGASM.

In which John is a crack shot and Anderson can bite it. YESS.

In which they're supposed to be straight, but it turns out they're more for each other than anything else. The slow kindling burn of this fic is unbelievably satisfying. Unbridled affection sparking in small ways until suddenly, finally, there's fire. This fic is amazing femslash. I loved the ways that this Sherlock and Joan intersect and depart from their canon selves.

In which John Watson being a woman makes things harder, but doesn't necessarily stop them being all together. Ugh, this hurt in such a deep, aching way, yet it was a comfortable hurt, an ache that's become an old friend. What a strong fic.  

In which Sherlock has Faerie blood, giving him unusually strong magical abilities, but John has some unusual abilities of his own. Really compelling world-building, as is usual for this author.

In which their relationship advances with three various instances where lying down together and sleeping together are spaced widely apart. The prose here is kind of unaccountably lovely. Poetic, but intent and aggressive and full of pulls in unexpected directions.

In which there is a Christmas farce told entirely in texts from one extremely harried John Watson. THIS. WAS. HILARIOUS. SO FUNNY. BREATHING. HOW DOES IT WORK? I CAN'T. JUST READ. GOGOGO.

In which apparently the Watson appeal runs in the family, and is stronger than we might have previously understood. God, this was hilarious. The power of the ordinary is obviously not to be trifled with!

In which, once he's got the evidence, Sherlock comes to a conclusion very quickly, and its an interminable wait for John to catch him up. Which contains the lines: "It's not that I don't trust your conclusions." John spoke more softly now that the lights were on, and Sherlock debated switching them off again. "I do. Obviously. That's why—" John bit his lip, and Sherlock resisted the impulse to rush over and shake him until he revealed whatever monkey-logic was clouding his judgment.  Feng shui.  Astrology. -Psychoanalysis-. Sherlock suppressed a shudder. // LOLOLOL, I loved Sherlock's voice in this.

In which every journey has an end, and every story has a final page, except sometimes when the Doctor steps in. Final part of the Two Doctors, a Nurse, a Detective and a Scot verse. UGH MY CREYS. I AM SMILING AND MISTING UP AND HEARTBROKEN AND LAUGHING I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY FEELINGS ARE DOING THIS IS THE DOUBLE RAINBOW OF CROSSOVER FICS WHY IS IT OVERRRR

In which Sherlock gets some My Immortal treatment in the form of Sebastian Moran. LAWLING FOREVER.

In which John is a BNF author and fandom's darling, while Sherlock is a combative BNF fanartist who can't seem to keep himself off fandom_wank--together, they fight sockpuppets (also, crime). A complex and utterly delightful love letter to the Sherlock Holmes fandom in all of its many interpretations and reincarnations. Completely wonderful.

In which Sherlock is ace, John is flexible, Mary is kinky, and everybody is crazy, but also kind to one another. Not done with this yet, only 10 chapters into Indecorous, but this is the best thing I have ever read. Ever ever ever read. Don't walk, run into this fic's arms, they are warm and sexy (and uproariously funny, and shockingly spot-on IC, but that doesn't exactly fit the metaphor) and you should do yourself the favor of knowing them. / I've read the rest, and stand by my assessment. Best.

In which John starts going out to the pub with guys from the Met. MET BONDING TIME, YAY.

In which Jo gets pregnant and tries to hide it from Sherlock. Which contains the lines: "And their eyes always narrow, and they are always thinking, sad woman, tagging after a man she'll never catch. It makes Jo furious. When she sees those eyes narrow, she wishes she was a dyke, or a bloke, or that she was in her desert gear and could cock her rifle and say, "Fucking say it, I dare you, you sodding cocksucker. Say I'm only here for the man. And when I blow your cerebellum out the back of your thick skull the last thing you'll remember is that I'm here because they wouldn't let me do another tour."" I really, really liked this, right up until the end when warning bells screaming "reckless endangerment" started going off in my head, but until that point, this was pretty awesome.

In which Anthea is actually Athena. This was wonderfully sly and actually quite beautiful. 

In which John's Christmas gifts to Sherlock speak a lot louder than he may have intended them to, but that works out well for Sherlock.

If you've ever heard this song before, you know this vid is going to be hilariously perfect already, but seriously, seriously, ROFL.

In which Sherlock crashes one too many of John's attempts to pull, and things come to a head.

In which they're both a bit ridiculous and a touch psychologically disturbed, and they will never have sex, but it works, it works, it works. God, those pins. God, this 'verse! All of my love all over this fic. Sequel to Traffic Lights For The Colour Blind.

In which Sherlock keeps an index that is vaguely disgusting and definitely Not Good, but nonetheless helps John make a Very Important Deduction. I was skeptical about the concept of the Index at first, but I grew to love it. Also, the last lines of this were delightful.

In which John and asexual!Sherlock are interrupted on the one day a year they spend on sex to help process a crime scene relating to a serial killer. I don't really understand the underlying bits of this, and I'm a little worried about the idea of a sex marathon being some kind of compromise in an asexual relationship, but fuck it, this fic knows it doesn't make a great deal of sense, and knows that the whole premise is patently ridiculous, and then rises above that knowledge to be completely fucking adorable, so whatever, it made me smile, they love each other a great stupid amount, moving right along. 

In which John has a gift for weaving, but he only realizes the extent of it once he meets Sherlock Holmes. I. LOVED. THIS. I'm not sure if it was a conscious thought on the author's part, but John Watson's affinity for storytelling translates REALLY, REALLY EASILY into a talent for weaving and I kind of liked how this fic kept blurring the two in my mind with its homey form of magic. 

In which divine intervention ensures that Sir John of Watson survives the desert to become Sir John of Baker Street. A Tortall AU of serious, serious awesomeness. I wish I could explain, but it's just really fun and surprising and fascinating and lampshading in all the best genre-related ways. I would welcome more in this universe with open arms and shouts of extreme delight.

In which John gets a visit from some friends he made in Afghanistan. I know absolutely nothing about Generation Kill other than that Brad is SUPER POPULAR in its slash tags on Delicious, but this little fic was awesome despite my lack of background knowledge.

In which Sherlock is a little uncomfortably interested in the parts of the human body, and John is a little uncomfortably interested in Sherlock. I didn't like this overmuch, but John thinking of Sherlock was some really beautiful prose.

In which the final showdown with Moriarty is appropriately dramatic and epic and horrifying and ridiculous. Sequel to Needing is One Thing, prequel to The Love Song Of Two Idiots, but much closer to Needing in tone, and understandably so. This fic is relentlessly dark, but frequently, if morbidly, hilarious (much to my relief at times) especially the longer it goes on (Sebastian Moran with a grenade launcher, oh my GOD). It's full of unexpectedly serrated edges, particularly in its stubbornly mystifying, undeniably heart-breaking family backstories. It's somehow still about how completely stupid these two are for each other, but often in a completely discomfiting and totally fucked up way (BDSM still not my thing, apparently). On the other hand, it's also still an amazingly gripping and unusually high-stakes case fic that is done up to levels of perfection I think might be previously unheard of. To me, this fic IS Sherlock--if it was made for HBO or Starz instead of the BBC.

In which the events of TGG force Sherlock to realize in a terrifyingly visceral and psychological way that if John left, there would be no one. John, luckily, is very content to be Sherlock's someone for as long as they live. This was quite, quite lovely. As weird as it is to see Sherlock left so uncertain, I was completely overtaken by John's idea of therapy, and oh God, hahaha, the last section is almost too wonderful for words. 

In which John and Sherlock are really amazingly stupid over each other, their arguments with each other are really AMAZINGLY hilarious, and oh yes, a really amazing number of proposals are rejected. I opened a bookmark tab the second I finished the first section of this, laughter still streaming out of my mouth. COMPLETELY THICK. I just knew this fic would be awesome and lo! It contained gem after gem of complete and utter hilarity. I am talking actual honest-to-god knee-slapping levels of humor here. I need to read the companion piece to this immediately.

In which John watches Sherlock sleep while he does a bit of navel-gazing about their peculiar relationship. Oh, this was really, really lovely. 

In which there is Sherlock and a baby. Aaand, boom, there go my ovaries.

In which Sherlock and John run into Mycroft's family on the street. EEEEEEE ADORABLE. SHERLOCK HAS A HEART AFTER ALL. Also, Sherringford, LOLOLOLOLOLOL, I'm sorry.

In which Sherlock and John end up on an enforced vacation in Bermuda while Mycroft sorts out the Royal Wedding. This fic, oh maaaan. I hate beaches and this fic made me want to run to one and go lie out. Honestly, this fic was charmingly evocative in a lot of different ways. It earns a starred review because I'd not yet read a believably characterized vacation scenario for these two, and this fic did it up right. Kudos.

In which Sherlock becomes confused about the line between platonic friendship and romantic relationship thanks to a women's magazine quiz. Teeheehee!

In which we see the Christmas party from Evander's perspective. Remix of Winter Delights from my favorite member of that version of the Holmes family, yay!

In which there is a threequel to that amazingly, epically delightful Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover. LESTRADE!!!!! That is all I have to say.

In which everyone thinks that Sherlock must be a nightmare flatmate, but to Sherlock it's not like John is a picnic himself. THIS WAS ADORABLE. Sherlock's comprehensive list of all of John's quirks and rules, John making the stuff on the bed into a game--the amount of showing in this fic was completely delightful. Also SUCH an adorable confession. The situation was a little contrived, but who the hell cares, that quiet outburst was so unexpected, and so tensely full of both conviction and uncertainty, ugh, perfection.