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Ok, you might remember my rambling about not reading Work in Progress. Really, I hate it and try to avoid it like the plague. But, and that's a huge BUT, I love epistolary fics. There's been this one, (Dear John), where I missed the whole ordeal of real time posting and the back and forth between them.
And then I found Letters from Sussex by Sussex Bound actually on the day the first chapters were posted. And I loved some other fics by said author and just started and OMG...
Now, I try to be more coherent here.
Title: Letters from Sussex
Author: sussexbound │ Sussex Bound
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing(s) Sherlock/John
Rating: NR-17
Word Count: ~21,5k (after 40 chapters)
Tags: Epistolary, Retirementlock, takes place immediately post Season 5
Summary: In the wake of the Mary/Moriarty affair, John and Sherlock have fallen out, and are living apart. But Sherlock isn't content with this state of affairs--not one bit. He's tired of dancing around the obvious. The wooing of John Watson starts now!
Why I loved it: I just need to rec it. I mean, it started on the 16th of June and that's been only a week now, but my whole life is rotating around this fic. Do you think I'm exaggerating? Nope. See for yourself; I'm checking my phone first thing in the morning for nightly updates (thankfully there are always between 1-3). After indulging in those chapters I leave a more or less coherent comment on the latest chapter and bring myself uptodate with the comments from the crowd. During the afternoon (sussex bound's morning) an update is coming. Then I squeal with joy, stop everything I'm doing and ingrain the next part. If it's Sherlock's, I know I'll can swoon and melt into a puddle of goo. If it's John's, it depends on his mood (lately his emails/texts/ideas) make me flail too. Those two are wonderful! During the night I'll check my phone for AO3 notifications or (better) sb's tumblr for updates. So, that's how my days and nights go at the moment. I'm planning to keep this up as long as it takes those two to to get their HEA. And it's pretty visible from the nearly 1400 comments (at 23.50 pm June 23th CEST) that I'm not the only one.
But really, this story is written with such beauty. There are tender and kind parts and others are rough and hard to read. There's humour, anger, sadness, a cutepie of a dog, a cottage in Sussex, a flat in London, a friendship hanging by a threat (at least in the beginning) and so much love. It's worth every waiting minute, because it's such a joy at the same time. If you can stand a communication through letters, emails and texts and have the patience to read a WiP...what are you waiting for? Go and read it! I'm sure you'll love it.
Excerpt: (That's part of a message by Sherlock)
I have wanted you here from the start.
From the moment I laid eyes on this cottage, I knew it was for you. There is a bedroom on the ground floor. That is so uncommon in these old houses. I think that it must have been a morning room before, or something of the kind, and been converted later. But when I saw that room, I knew that it would be yours.
You will have no need to climb the steep, narrow staircase to the upper floors when your leg aches in poor weather. It’s why I took the room upstairs. I left that room waiting for you. It is yours John, or perhaps it could be ‘ours’ if you prefer.
There is the garden, of course. It is desperate for attention, and you always seemed to have a way with those little potted herbs at the flat. I imagine your skill in this area surpasses mine. It was barely more than intuition, but something seemed to call to me when I first saw it. ‘This is for John,’ some inner voice said.
You have a way with slightly wild and stubborn things. Everything yields to your skill and care, everything blooms beneath your touch. And soon you will be here, and we shall see...
Will I bloom beneath your touch? Oh, I think so. I long to find out. All the things I long to explore, to discover... So many things...
Will you let me tell you? You said you wanted to know.
I’m still unsure how much is too much, or if, perhaps, my desires are too simple to satisfy you. I want everything you have to give, and I want to give you everything you desire. You must tell me if I get it wrong. I will learn. We can learn one another together.
Do you know what I would like, when you are sure, when you are ready? I would like you to invite me to your bed. Not in the dark of night, but in the early morning, when that room of yours will be golden, and warm, with lace-shadows of the lilac leaves outside the window dancing against the pale, cream walls, and the sound of bird song drifting in from the garden. I want you to invite me to your bed, and I want you to let me worship you.
And then I found Letters from Sussex by Sussex Bound actually on the day the first chapters were posted. And I loved some other fics by said author and just started and OMG...
Now, I try to be more coherent here.
Title: Letters from Sussex
Author: sussexbound │ Sussex Bound
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing(s) Sherlock/John
Rating: NR-17
Word Count: ~21,5k (after 40 chapters)
Tags: Epistolary, Retirementlock, takes place immediately post Season 5
Summary: In the wake of the Mary/Moriarty affair, John and Sherlock have fallen out, and are living apart. But Sherlock isn't content with this state of affairs--not one bit. He's tired of dancing around the obvious. The wooing of John Watson starts now!
Why I loved it: I just need to rec it. I mean, it started on the 16th of June and that's been only a week now, but my whole life is rotating around this fic. Do you think I'm exaggerating? Nope. See for yourself; I'm checking my phone first thing in the morning for nightly updates (thankfully there are always between 1-3). After indulging in those chapters I leave a more or less coherent comment on the latest chapter and bring myself uptodate with the comments from the crowd. During the afternoon (sussex bound's morning) an update is coming. Then I squeal with joy, stop everything I'm doing and ingrain the next part. If it's Sherlock's, I know I'll can swoon and melt into a puddle of goo. If it's John's, it depends on his mood (lately his emails/texts/ideas) make me flail too. Those two are wonderful! During the night I'll check my phone for AO3 notifications or (better) sb's tumblr for updates. So, that's how my days and nights go at the moment. I'm planning to keep this up as long as it takes those two to to get their HEA. And it's pretty visible from the nearly 1400 comments (at 23.50 pm June 23th CEST) that I'm not the only one.
But really, this story is written with such beauty. There are tender and kind parts and others are rough and hard to read. There's humour, anger, sadness, a cutepie of a dog, a cottage in Sussex, a flat in London, a friendship hanging by a threat (at least in the beginning) and so much love. It's worth every waiting minute, because it's such a joy at the same time. If you can stand a communication through letters, emails and texts and have the patience to read a WiP...what are you waiting for? Go and read it! I'm sure you'll love it.
Excerpt: (That's part of a message by Sherlock)
I have wanted you here from the start.
From the moment I laid eyes on this cottage, I knew it was for you. There is a bedroom on the ground floor. That is so uncommon in these old houses. I think that it must have been a morning room before, or something of the kind, and been converted later. But when I saw that room, I knew that it would be yours.
You will have no need to climb the steep, narrow staircase to the upper floors when your leg aches in poor weather. It’s why I took the room upstairs. I left that room waiting for you. It is yours John, or perhaps it could be ‘ours’ if you prefer.
There is the garden, of course. It is desperate for attention, and you always seemed to have a way with those little potted herbs at the flat. I imagine your skill in this area surpasses mine. It was barely more than intuition, but something seemed to call to me when I first saw it. ‘This is for John,’ some inner voice said.
You have a way with slightly wild and stubborn things. Everything yields to your skill and care, everything blooms beneath your touch. And soon you will be here, and we shall see...
Will I bloom beneath your touch? Oh, I think so. I long to find out. All the things I long to explore, to discover... So many things...
Will you let me tell you? You said you wanted to know.
I’m still unsure how much is too much, or if, perhaps, my desires are too simple to satisfy you. I want everything you have to give, and I want to give you everything you desire. You must tell me if I get it wrong. I will learn. We can learn one another together.
Do you know what I would like, when you are sure, when you are ready? I would like you to invite me to your bed. Not in the dark of night, but in the early morning, when that room of yours will be golden, and warm, with lace-shadows of the lilac leaves outside the window dancing against the pale, cream walls, and the sound of bird song drifting in from the garden. I want you to invite me to your bed, and I want you to let me worship you.
