Re: The Theory of Narrative Causality (3c/5ish)
anonymous
May 24 2011, 19:47:48 UTC
(Which came as an absolute surprise when you realize that the nice, shiny new person in front of you is the fantastic fanartist/fic writer you've been talking to for months online.)
So please, stop asking. No, I won't be meeting up with you in some unknown little pub on the other side of London, that's what cons are for. Nor will I tell you where I work, and who for, because I have a hobby of writing Victoriana slash, and that's not necessarily well-seen outside of fandom.
I'm just. You know. I'm just a guy who happens to like Victorian porn. Remember that, don't harass me (you know who you are, don't do it again), and we'll all be good. Thank you.
Anyhow, to make up for this serious mood, have a ficlet (mostly written in celebration of my having reached the 25,000 mark on BigBang fic):
Title: and there we go, then, together Length: 1,500 words. Pairing: Holmes/Watson Betas: sarah_s and storm_ford, who need to stop massacring my semi-columns on Google Docs. What have semi-columns ever done to you. Rating: PG-13? I can never tell when there's no porn. Summary: John Watson wakes up. And wakes up. And wakes up.
(we've never had a life of our own)
(56 comments) - (post a comment)
jim_fromit Ooh, what happened?
jumperfucker Mostly just one asshole, I think - they had a sockpuppet account at first, and after I banned them the anon comments started flooding in. I turned it off for a bit, but quite a lot of people like to comment anon, so I can't keep it down forever just because I can't be arsed to delete a few silly comments.
It's calmed down a bit now, though. Whoever they are, they've got quite a sick fascination with consulting_detective.
jim_fromit That sounds horrible. >:( Good luck, Johnny.
jumperfucker Thanks. :D
miss_toby Good luck getting rid of the troll, John! &hearts
jumperfucker Thank you!
consulting_detective So this is still going on, then.
jumperfucker I'm afraid so, yeah. You might want to try and find out who they are with your mad deducin' skilz.
consulting_detective Anything for you.
"'… Holmes,' I whispered, and as I closed my hand around his upper arm I felt my friend's fine muscles tremble with tension under the sleeve. I did not know how many hours he had been awake - I did not know how many hours I had been awake, and exhaustion rippled through my veins like a sick version of his seven-percent - and his eyes were bright and brittle in the dull dawn. From where I knelt, sitting back on my haunches in a position that drove fine tendrils of pain into my left thigh, I could only see the high slope of his shoulder and his thin, angular profile, twitching with passing thoughts. His brilliant brain had not yet screeched to a halt, as mine had. I wondered if it were not worse, to see, as he did, every dreadful arrangement of the hours and minutes we had before us, and never find a solution quite good enough for the both of us to survive them.
'My dear boy,' he said finally, very softly. His arm shook in my grasp and tore away, only to return in the guise of his fingers, slipping effortlessly between mine. They hooked there, cradled my palm with warmth. I staggered. I was so very tired that I could only squeeze back, and hope that the brush of my wrist against his was a clue he could decipher.
So please, stop asking. No, I won't be meeting up with you in some unknown little pub on the other side of London, that's what cons are for. Nor will I tell you where I work, and who for, because I have a hobby of writing Victoriana slash, and that's not necessarily well-seen outside of fandom.
I'm just. You know. I'm just a guy who happens to like Victorian porn. Remember that, don't harass me (you know who you are, don't do it again), and we'll all be good. Thank you.
Anyhow, to make up for this serious mood, have a ficlet (mostly written in celebration of my having reached the 25,000 mark on BigBang fic):
Title: and there we go, then, together
Length: 1,500 words.
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Betas: sarah_s and storm_ford, who need to stop massacring my semi-columns on Google Docs. What have semi-columns ever done to you.
Rating: PG-13? I can never tell when there's no porn.
Summary: John Watson wakes up. And wakes up. And wakes up.
(we've never had a life of our own)
(56 comments) - (post a comment)
jim_fromit
Ooh, what happened?
jumperfucker
Mostly just one asshole, I think - they had a sockpuppet account at first, and after I banned them the anon comments started flooding in. I turned it off for a bit, but quite a lot of people like to comment anon, so I can't keep it down forever just because I can't be arsed to delete a few silly comments.
It's calmed down a bit now, though. Whoever they are, they've got quite a sick fascination with consulting_detective.
jim_fromit
That sounds horrible. >:( Good luck, Johnny.
jumperfucker
Thanks. :D
miss_toby
Good luck getting rid of the troll, John! &hearts
jumperfucker
Thank you!
consulting_detective
So this is still going on, then.
jumperfucker
I'm afraid so, yeah. You might want to try and find out who they are with your mad deducin' skilz.
consulting_detective
Anything for you.
"'… Holmes,' I whispered, and as I closed my hand around his upper arm I felt my friend's fine muscles tremble with tension under the sleeve. I did not know how many hours he had been awake - I did not know how many hours I had been awake, and exhaustion rippled through my veins like a sick version of his seven-percent - and his eyes were bright and brittle in the dull dawn. From where I knelt, sitting back on my haunches in a position that drove fine tendrils of pain into my left thigh, I could only see the high slope of his shoulder and his thin, angular profile, twitching with passing thoughts. His brilliant brain had not yet screeched to a halt, as mine had. I wondered if it were not worse, to see, as he did, every dreadful arrangement of the hours and minutes we had before us, and never find a solution quite good enough for the both of us to survive them.
'My dear boy,' he said finally, very softly. His arm shook in my grasp and tore away, only to return in the guise of his fingers, slipping effortlessly between mine. They hooked there, cradled my palm with warmth. I staggered. I was so very tired that I could only squeeze back, and hope that the brush of my wrist against his was a clue he could decipher.
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Me either. In my mind there's only two ratings - Gen and Porn :DDD
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I am really loving this whole bunches!
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