Profile

Fans of 'A Thousand Years': Click this for Awesome Fanart

The above is a link to the deviantart page of the fantastic Yeastbaron, who is responsible for my awesome avatar.

Also, I have a new tumblr page which I would like to direct you to. It's not entirely about my fanfiction account, though that is what it was originally created for, so there's some randomness. However, there is also updates on how I'm progressing with my stories and you guys can feel free to follow and ask questions- I'm very friendly, and I don't bite :) It would be great if you did follow because it's brand spanking new and I kind of need followers.

I am a twenty-year-old American who has moved a total of 16 times in my life, having lived in Oklahoma, North Dakota, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Texas and currently England. I'm in my second semester of my second year at university where I study English Literature, after which I'm either going in for a teaching degree, or a Masters. Either way, it's more school. Oh hello Debt, my old friend.

I love reading and creating art, but writing is my absolute passion. I would love to become a published author someday, but my focus is currently on school. Although my mother has just started the process of writing a novel, for which I'm her ghost writer, so who knows?

My Stories

A Thousand Years: My first ever fanfic, and my absolute baby. Written about an OC, Audrey Miller. Pretty standard, really, she's a Soc that falls in love with Johnny Cade. I think my writing has definitely gotten better since starting it, and it is currently in the editing process.

Why is a Raven like a Writing-Desk?: A crossover story of 'Harry Potter' and BBC's 'Sherlock' that I am very excited about. Sherlock/Hermione, all the way! Warning though: My focus is currently on A Thousand Years, so don't expect updates for awhile. I plan on continuing this, but not until I've completed ATY.

The Chain on Your Neck: A tiny little drabble-thing that I wrote after listening to Taylor Swift's You Are in Love one too many times and binge-watching Death Note. God, I love Near, but he barely gets any love from the fandom!

Fandoms: Because I Eat, Sleep and Breathe Them

Television: BBC Sherlock, Once Upon A Time, Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, American Horror Story, Pretty Little Liars, Downton Abbey, Criminal Minds

Books: Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, The Outsiders, Wuthering Heights

Films: Harry Potter, The Outsiders

Anime: Naruto, Ouran High School Host Club, Inuyasha, Death Note

My Favourite Stories

All of the stories in my favourites are fantastic, but these are the favoured among the favoured.

First and foremost, for my absolute favourite author, Yeastbaron: Go and read her Outsiders stories Mama Said and My Baby's Mama. She has this amazing way with characterization and she's really got the feel of the book and the time period, the latter two things especially being things that I never feel I get right. She's awesome, go read her stuff now.

This is my way as a ninja, heart strings, Curtain call the final act and Behind the Curtains, an absolutely fantastic Itachi/Sakura series by paws-bells who is one of my favourite authors. This was the first ItaSaku fic I ever read, and what an introduction! It was written before the massacre reveal, so some details are wrong, but the pure emotion in the main characters is astounding.

Sustain or Concerto for the Famished in D Minor, Sustain II Refrain, Sustain III: Obbligatoand Sustain: Coda, Variation One, another incredible series by one of my favourite authors, MaybeAmanda, who created a Sherlolly verse that I utterly and whole-heartedly believed in as I read it. I cannot recommend this series highly enough, and it's an absolute must for all Sherlock/Molly shippers.

Come Slowly, Eden and The Rose and the Yew Tree by yet another of my favourite authors, Paimpont are two completely unconnected one-shots, but they are both about very odd couples (Molly Weasley/Voldemort and Rose Weasley/Tom Riddle) and while this can easily fall into the 'crack' trap, they are handled very seriously and Paimpont always writes with such vivid imagery and painful poignancy, I always feel like I'm reading a half-tragedy, half-fairytale.

Twelve Dark Moons by Sophiax is a Luna/Voldemort story. Weird, I know, but I've been in love with it for years. It's the best characterisation I've ever seen anyone make of Luna, and she somehow makes Voldie and Luna make sense. Read it! Also, if you're a fan of Lord Voldemort (as I quite clearly am) try reading these notes on his characterization, which I find endlessly fascinating.

Ultima ratio by Winterblume absolutely has to be one of the best Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle fics that I have ever had the great pleasure of reading. Just go read it. Now. if you've already read it, read it again. And again. And again.

Tied for Last by Speechwriter; if Ultima ratio is one of the best Tomione fanfictions I've ever read, than Tied for Last is hands down the best. The characterisation is just incredible and the love that develops between Tom and Hermione is hauntingly beautiful. I read it as it was still being written, so I haven't read the new ending which is attached to the story, and I don't want to. I loved the original ending too much, which is now posted separately as a one-shot, if you want to have a gander.

Peach is a Johnlock fiction by the mind-blowing schizophrenic-clown. It was without a doubt the most absolutely shocking, disgusting, disturbing thing that I have ever read- and I adored every second of it. Morbid and bursting at the seams with beautiful, dark imagery, this macabre little one-shot still gives me shivers. Make sure if you go to read it though, that you pay attention to the warnings.

Isolation, by Bex-chan. I doubt I even need to recommend it. It's such a hallmark in the Dramione community now, I doubt there's a single hardcore shipper who hasn't got it in their favourites.

Accident Prone by Megi of Mysteri OusStranger is a completely gorgeous one-shot in which accident prone Ginny Weasley accidentally ends up 100 years in the past, wondering why she's always attracted to the Dark Wizards- first Voldemort, and now Grindelwald. Definitely recommended for a quick read. Ginny is fierce and powerful in a time period that sees women as passive and gentle.

Blind Endeavours: Part 1 Concerto in D Minor, Blind Endeavours:Part 2: Symphony No 5 in C Minor, Blind Endeavours: Part 3- Symphony No 25 in G Minor, Blind Endeavours- Part 4: Adagio in G Minor, Blind Endeavours- Part 5: Piano Concerto No 17, Blind Endeavours Part 6&7- Nocturne in C Sharp Minor & Gnossienne No1, Blind Endeavours Pts 8&9: Symphony 40 in G minor & Concerto 2 violins PLUS the one-shot that goes with Part 5: Blind Endeavours one-shot: Amusement is an emotional roller coaster of a series by Wiz-Chic that has made me laugh hysterically and cry with that awful little ache you get in your chest when something genuinely distresses you- and I hardly ever cry at stories. This is a Sherlock/OC love story, but don't let the OC part put you off- there is no Mary-Sue to be found here.

A Clandestine Reality is a Dramione fic by Tears of Ebon-Grey and because of its beginning standpoint of Dramione having occurred in the past, it sometimes struggles to be in character as it never had to build their relationship from the ground up. It is however, extremely romantic and fluffy and such a feel-good read! I've read it over and over and over and over!

Intentions Verse 1: No intention by KeelieThompson1 is a super interesting premise that I don't think I've seen anywhere else on this site. John is the ten-year-old child of a criminal that Sherlock apprehends- and, Sherlock is quite shocked to realize, is also the child that he thought had been aborted when he was 16. I've never seen John/Sherlock in a father/son dynamic before and like I said earlier, it's just fascinating. It's part of a series, but as I haven't read the subsequent fics yet, I didn't feel comfortable recommending them.

Spill Your Breakfast, Drip Your Wine is a beautiful little Dramione one-shot by eevilalice that has some of the most gorgeous imagery I have ever read in my life. It's damn near poetic. Seriously, I reread this all the time. It's just stunning.

Things I Thought I Understood by Chessmin is one of the most brilliantly heartbreaking things I've ever read. Warning: John is dead right from the get-go. In this story, an OC named Elizabeth was a fellow army doctor with John, and feeling his time was almost up, John enlists her to befriend and look after Sherlock should he die. Slowly, oh, ever so slowly, Sherlock and Elizabeth fall in love with each other and it's fucking incredible. I just want to crawl into the screen and be with the characters and the feelings forever and for always.

So yeah. There's my little fic recommendation list. It took quite awhile. But that's okay because I have no life.

Favorite Poetry

Being an English Literature student means that I read a lot of poetry. Sometimes I come across poems that particularly strike me, and I thought I'd start a little collection of my favorites. I feel the need to interject here that, though I don't know how many of these poems are still subject to copyright laws, I own and have written none of them.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci: A Ballad

John Keats

Composed 21 April, 1819

1

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

2

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

So haggard and so woe-begone?

The squirrel's granary is full,

And the harvest's done.

3

I see a lily on thy brow

With anguish moist and fever dew,

And on thy cheeks a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

4

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful - a fairy's child;

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

5

I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

6

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A fairy's song.

7

She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild and manna dew,

And sure in language strange she said,

'I love thee true'.

8

She took me to her elfin grot

And there she wept, and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

9

And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dreamed - ah, woe betide! -

The latest dream I ever dreamed

On the cold hill's side.

10

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried, 'La belle dame sans merci

Hath thee in thrall!'

11

I saw their starved lips in the gloam

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke and found me here

On the cold hill's side.

12

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

I Sing the Body Electric

Walt Whitman

(No, it's not just a Lana Del Rey song... though I do love that song)

1

I sing the body electric,

The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,

They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,

And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.

Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?

And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?

And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?

And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?

4

I have perceiv'd that to be with those I like is enough,

To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,

To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,

To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?

I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.

There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,

All things please the soul, but these things please the soul well.

5

This is the female form,

A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,

It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,

I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it,

Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, and what was expected of heaven or fear'd of hell, are now consumed,

Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable,

Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused,

Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching,

Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice,

Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,

Undulating into the willing and yielding day,

Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh'd day.

This is the nucleus - after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,

This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.

Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest,

You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

The female contains all qualities and tempers them,

She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,

She is all things duly veil'd, she is both passive and active,

She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.

As I see my soul reflected in Nature,

As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty,

See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.

Sonnet 130

William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses demasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes there is more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.