#grassle

[fuckyeahteenlock]

Exciting News

"the desire And the spasm" is finally returning to AO3! grassle is uploading the different parts of it as we speak.

For those of you who don't know, this fic isn't teenlock, but someone once asked me what my favourite Sherlock fic of all time is, and this is the resounding answer. It's the most hilarious, off-the-wall thing I've ever read, and it's especially enjoyable if you're a writer.

The basic premise is that during The Blind Banker when John takes his laptop back from Sherlock, Sherlock thinks he seemed a bit too defensive, so he breaks into it to find out what John is hiding. It turns out he's writing a gay romance novel--and a bad one at that--about a detective named Sherwood Stone and his partner Jake Weston. It doesn't take Sherlock long to connect the dots, and hilarity ensues.

You can read the first part of it (here.) grassle assures me the rest will be up soon, and I've offered to help, so hopefully it won't take long.

[22drunkb]

But oh, how his fingers itched to correct the punctuation. Was it possible John had reached the ripe age of whatever it was – fifty? - in blissful ignorance of the rules governing compound predicates? Even being ignorant, wouldn’t the law of probability dictate he’d get it right fifty percent of the time? No. Instead it seemed John stood over his page with a salt shaker of commas in one hand and a pepper pot of apostrophes in the other, flailed his arms about, and let his punctuation fall where it may. Sherlock cast his glass aside and stuck his straw straight into the bottle of Baileys for a healthy slurp.

The Desire and the Spasm

WHAT A COINCIDENCE SHERLOCK I'M DRINKING TOO NOW

--MM

[22drunkb]

Stone’s long lean legs ate up the pavement and sidewalk, read Sherlock aloud to the skull, rolling his eyes at John’s hedging of his linguistic bets and his notion – dangerous for a doctor – that legs were capable of ingestion. Sherlock tore himself away from form to content and decided he’d best go easy on John for his lack of commas between coordinate adjectives. If John hadn’t grasped this when Sherlock had kindly corrected his Blog posts, it seemed John and the comma were destined to remain as strangers.

The Desire and the Spasm

GIGGLING LIKE AN IDIOT

--MM

[lexanadra]

DYING

“I HAVE TO STOP AMANDA!” he yelled.

“Certainly, sir,” replied the satsuma-faced woman. “Last name?”  

Sherlock glared at her. “IT’S SOMETHING CORNISH!” he shouted, grabbing the mic.  

“CLOTTED CREAM!” he yelled down it into a swirl of feedback. “PIXIES! AGATHA CHRISTIE!”