performance in a leading role

You know what I think is fascinating? About a month ago I was introduced to someone at an event through a mutual friend. She and I discussed books, television shows, and obviously Sherlock came up.

“I have to know… do you ship Johnlock?” she asked me, cautiously.

“OH yeah. Very much so.”

“Have you read ‘Performance in a Leading Role’?”

“Most definitely.”

“Isn’t that fanfic great??”

This went on longer than I ever would have guessed. But how amazing is it that two people who don’t know each other have already read the same novel (yes, it’s a novel) that was written for free by a stranger online and advertised by word of mouth only?

Think of all the people you walk past in the city, sit next to you on the bus, or go to your school that could have read the same stories you love.

So if you have a story to tell, share it. You never know who could be reading.

To A Stranger // Performance In A Leading Role, by Mad_Lori

I received a lot of requests (after this recent photoshoot had surfaced) to do my version of a film poster for PiaLR. So here it is! If you haven’t yet read the fic, do yourself a favour, and do it. I imagine everyone in this fandom has, though.


I was asked to repost/make rebloggable the silly wee epilogue I wrote in the comments of To A Stranger, which is based on the Sherlock AU fic Performance in a Leading Role.



That was absolutely so beautiful!! The poem recurring to give closure- sigh, and tears.

But seriously, Roland takes one look at Mark that evening and says,“ Go to him. You don’t get love like that and walk away. I respect your honoring what we have had, and I will cherish its memory. But Go to Him.”


Yeah, in my mind Roland comes back from the wine shop with something that will go with dinner, and something that is bubbly.

Mark isn’t sure why Roland bought bubbly, because Roland doesn’t like it. But Mark puts it in the fridge anyway.

Roland and Mark make dinner together (Roland picks up the smooshed rosehead and puts it in a blossom vase; Mark has a blossom case because Roland thought it was quirky and bought it for him at a thrift shop), and Mark clearly wants to talk about something. Mark says nothing, though, and they have dinner. Mark is chewing himself up inside and Roland is patient and waiting for him to gather the words and the breath and the courage.

While Mark does the dishes, Roland picks up the journal and flips through it a little. Clearly Mark isn’t going to be able to say it. It’s up to Roland, then. A slip of paper slides out of the book, and Roland reads it, then sets it down on the island, precisely under a hanging light where it is sure to be seen.

“He’s eloquent,” Roland says.

Mark starts, reaches out with a soapy hand to snatch the journal away, and stops himself halfway through. “I… that’s….”

“Mark, I know who he is,” Roland says. He closes the journal and leans on the island.

“You do?” Mark asks, guiltily.

“He’s the hydrangeas, isn’t he?”

“The hy… huh?”

Roland smiles sadly, turning the rose in the blossom vase so it will spread nicely. “He’s the hydrangeas. He’s the stumble in Jack Layton Park. He’s the knock on the door in your brother’s old building. He’s the pat on the gravestone of that woman who isn’t related to you every Sunday afternoon. He’s the way you turn your face away from Princess Margret when we walk down University. He’s the way you ignore your mother’s calls.”

Mark is stunned, all the breath knocked out of him. “Roland–”

“He’s Ben, isn’t he?”

“How do you know–?”

Roland’s smile gets wider, and sadder, even as the corners of his eyes crinkle up. “Sometimes you say his name. Instead of mine.”

Mark drops his dishtowel, he’s so mortified. “Roland, I’m sorry.”

Roland stands. “Don’t be.”


“Look, Mark. I like you. I like you a lot. What we have, it’s good. It’s nice. But it’s nothing like what HE has.” He taps the cover of the journal.

“No, Roland, wait, I–”


“What about you? It’s not fair to you for me to–”

Roland walks around the island and takes Mark’s face between his hands and kisses him quiet, slow and soft. “Shut up, you silly man,” he whispers against Mark’s mouth. “Mark Farthing, you care about other people entirely too much. Time to take care of YOURSELF.”

Mark nods, miserable, bites his lower lip and savors the taste of this last kiss.

“Now,” Roland says, stepping away. “There was a hotel card in the journal with his room number on it. Here, I’ve left it on the counter. There’s champagne in the fridge, and I know you have some of that ridiculous dark chocolate you like in your desk drawer. Go on.”

Mark nods again. “Thank you.”

“Thank YOU,” Roland says. “You’re a good man. Now got get your reward for being so. Ah!” he says, stopping Mark as he dives for the fridge. “Go change your shirt first. You have suds on your belly.” He turns Mark bodily and pushes him up the stairs.

When Mark disappears around the corner, Roland fetches his coat, and leans down to give Hightower a scritch.

“Bye bye, menace,” he says to the cat, and then steps out the door, steps down the street, and steps aside.

Ok I know I’m like fifty years late to the party but
I started reading performance in a leading role like a year ago but I didn’t finish it cause I got busy and would lose track of what was happening because I took such long gaps in between chapters and all that so I stopped

And always meant to get back to it but never did

And now I finally am

And I cannot


With how








The day after that, a photographer had come and shot them for a spread in “The Advocate,” and John still couldn’t believe Irene had gotten them to agree to that, although it had produced John’s favorite of any photograph taken of them.   

SQUEEE.  The lovely and talented anotherwellkeptsecret has drawn this awesome fanart, which is of the photo referenced in the above clip from the “Performance in a Leading Role” wedding sequel/midquel.

I described to Kelley the photo I was imagining, one that played with John and Sherlock’s public personas - making Sherlock quiet and demure while John looks a bit predatory.


La La Land (2016)

Directed by Damien Chazelle

Cinematography by Linus Sandgren

Nervously but proudly rooting for a show

Come From Away
Dear Evan Hansen                                                                                        Falsettos
Groundhog Day
Hello, Dolly!
Holiday Inn
Miss Saigon
War Paint