Sherlock Holmes is such a BAMF
Oh my god, this fandom is eating my brain.
Today I read The Seven Percent Solution*, A Study in Scarlet, and more fic than I can shake a stick at, joining all the rest of the Sherlockian delights I have been reveling in over the past week or so. I also bought a book called Victorian London (which is shaping up the be a fairly straightforward history) and the first volume of six in a series which seems to be called the Bourgeois Experience: Victoria to Freud (which is certainly not straightforward, best I can tell). Worse than all that, I keep finding myself plotting out the modern day Sherlock Holmes band!au of my heart (I have no shame) and writing snippets about Watson knows its a bad sign when Holmes starts listening to his iPod obsessively, as if he is trying to block out the assault of his senses, and the fact that Watson hasn't been able to spot any pattern at all in his tobacco consumption as Holmes shifts from chainsmoking Parliament Lights to expensive Dunhills without any apparent method. But seriously guys, you will want a band AU too if you just think of Holmes giving an interview to like, MTV, and the lols inherent in that image.
The fact that I'm also listening to a shitton of Andrew Bird is entirely unrelated, I swear.
Anyway, I continue to be consumed by the kinkmeme. I've written three fills thus far, and I'll probably come out with more. Soon I'll clean them up and post them here -- they were all written in fast bursts and with barely any proof-reading, so they are crazy typo-licious and make me wince to reread them. Also, once I get my brain together, I'll probably have recs from my fic binge for y'all. And dear christ, every time I use the babble tag I think I couldn't possibly have a more babbly and pointless post, only to use it the next time and prove myself wrong.
*LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE. I read it in one sitting and only resisted the urge to read it straight through again because I had an appointment. It was hurty, and realistic, and full of so much love! Not to mention all the nerdy glee I got from reading RPF about Sigmund Freud. It also made me want a Holmes/Watson/Freud threesome, so. I would hate myself, but the book is begging for it -- I literally just opened to a random page, and there is a line about Freud watching Holmes with "the absorption in all facets of Holmes that was characteristic of him." BITCH PLEASE. You know what would be scientifically illuminating, Sigmund? Sucking his cock while Watson watches. I'm just throwing that shit out there.
Today I read The Seven Percent Solution*, A Study in Scarlet, and more fic than I can shake a stick at, joining all the rest of the Sherlockian delights I have been reveling in over the past week or so. I also bought a book called Victorian London (which is shaping up the be a fairly straightforward history) and the first volume of six in a series which seems to be called the Bourgeois Experience: Victoria to Freud (which is certainly not straightforward, best I can tell). Worse than all that, I keep finding myself plotting out the modern day Sherlock Holmes band!au of my heart (I have no shame) and writing snippets about Watson knows its a bad sign when Holmes starts listening to his iPod obsessively, as if he is trying to block out the assault of his senses, and the fact that Watson hasn't been able to spot any pattern at all in his tobacco consumption as Holmes shifts from chainsmoking Parliament Lights to expensive Dunhills without any apparent method. But seriously guys, you will want a band AU too if you just think of Holmes giving an interview to like, MTV, and the lols inherent in that image.
The fact that I'm also listening to a shitton of Andrew Bird is entirely unrelated, I swear.
Anyway, I continue to be consumed by the kinkmeme. I've written three fills thus far, and I'll probably come out with more. Soon I'll clean them up and post them here -- they were all written in fast bursts and with barely any proof-reading, so they are crazy typo-licious and make me wince to reread them. Also, once I get my brain together, I'll probably have recs from my fic binge for y'all. And dear christ, every time I use the babble tag I think I couldn't possibly have a more babbly and pointless post, only to use it the next time and prove myself wrong.
*LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE. I read it in one sitting and only resisted the urge to read it straight through again because I had an appointment. It was hurty, and realistic, and full of so much love! Not to mention all the nerdy glee I got from reading RPF about Sigmund Freud. It also made me want a Holmes/Watson/Freud threesome, so. I would hate myself, but the book is begging for it -- I literally just opened to a random page, and there is a line about Freud watching Holmes with "the absorption in all facets of Holmes that was characteristic of him." BITCH PLEASE. You know what would be scientifically illuminating, Sigmund? Sucking his cock while Watson watches. I'm just throwing that shit out there.