adventures in fangirl

Hi there! World! Utterly unbetaed opening of a fic below the cut. I know, sudden, right? I don't know what I'm doing, but I just felt like writing a thing. I got 2k through it, and that's...what's below the cut. It probably desperately needs a beta, because I know already that I've:

• abused the shit out of some em-dashes
• over-relied on italics, as always
• written about foot stuff when I'm really not at all about foot stuff, so I'm probably fucking that up

and have further committed these other acts that deserve their own warnings:

• John and Sherlock are both cisswapped to be female
• John's name is still John
• this is set in their 20s, with John fairly early in her medical training (residency maybe) and I know nothing about residency training

Good lord, I don't know. Anyway. Here. Betas welcome. My brain's started to continue this story, but if you think I should continue it...I don't know, maybe say something. >.> 

Basic premise: John and Sherlock enter into a friends with benefits sort of situation, which is one-sided (Sherlock gives John orgasms, because of course it's convenient). An excellent setup for pining and misunderstandings and also sex; we'll see if I can manage to do anything with it. Last edit addendum: no actual sex below the cut. This is all setup.

( Read more... )

This is the stupid fic I've been talking about for ages and how it opens. In theory.

I'm not sure where else to dump this many words -- nearly 2k out of about 23k written and this is literally less than half of what I've blocked off as the first chapter. I've tweaked this so many times, it's kind of sickening. Considering more still. My latest obsessive rewrite catastrophe-of-my-own-making is the crazy internal dialog Sherlock falls into between the time they exit the dorm and they hit the sidewalk. It's driving me nuts, so I'm just going to post this WIP here and think about it later. I need to zero draft out the rest of the story, not nth draft out the opening. Sigh.

-

April 1989


“John, did you know that a derivative of the monkshood plant is virtually undetectable as a toxin?” Sherlock asked, not looking up from his book. “I wonder if…hmm,” he murmured, thoughts trailing ahead. He was contemplating their window’s northern exposure.


Well, there was only one way to scientifically test that theory. Or any theory really. Sherlock added flower box to his mental shopping list and turned the page, fingers gliding over the long Latin names and detailed practical applications. Cosmetic, anaesthetic, accidental toxicity of course, and murders. His favourite.


Library books that John brought home were usually rudimentary at best, but this last one was a genuine medical reference. A pathology graduate student’s textbook in a sea of middle-grade rubbish. In other words, a library misorder if ever there was one. Sherlock was tempted to keep it and simply pay the fine.


“Sherlock.”


“Mm,” he answered.


Or pay John back for the fine, since it was checked out under his name. Technically.


“Sherlock.”


“Mm.”


“Sherlock, I’ve been asking you for five bloody minutes if you want to get dinner. I know toxins are very important to you right now, but I’m bloody starving, yeah? Can you--” John scrubbed a hand over his face; Sherlock could hear it from the way his breathing muffled and unmuffled. Sherlock marked the page number. “I happened to spend my lunch period at the library—no idea why—loitering suspiciously around the publications again and ta very much but I’m a growing boy, let’s go.” John said it practically in a single breath.


Sherlock looked up, blinking. He glanced at the alarm clock, which glowed 7:15 in low cadmium red. He’d hardly looked up from the book since he got back from class, which was—oh. Hours ago, at this point. That explained his rather stiff neck at least. And the quality of light being darker now, grey and soft around John’s usual brightness.


Turning his attentions back to John, he surveyed the signs of recent exertion and even more recent steam on John’s skin. This morning’s clothes had carelessly been thrown back on after the very necessary shower that always followed afternoon rugby practice. Sherlock’s eyes lingered on John’s dirty blond locks, dark and curling at his temples where it clung to his skin. Still wet.


Sherlock snapped shut the book.
( Read more... )

I've updated two chapters in two weeks, and have just now remembered to make a little announcement here. Whoops.

Title: Sherlock Holmes Detective Agency
Author: avawatson
Rating: Mature (subject to change)
Archive Warning: None
Category: M/M
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Harry Watson & John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Harry Watson, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Mrs. Hudson, Angelo (Sherlock)
Additional tags: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Case Fic, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Secret Identity, Work In Progress, fall TV fusion, fall TV season Sherlock, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, John Is A Detective, Humor, POV John Watson, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Tags May Change, Eventual Happy Ending, Bad Puns, irresponsible amounts of tea making, Slow Build, wild references to canon, harry's not so much of an alcoholic in this one?, subject to revisions so please watch chapter notes, Abuse of italics, lots of shouting and secrecy, john's poor trust issues
Stats: 20k, Chapters: 2/9
Summary: John Watson has finally made a name for himself in the world of private investigation. The only problem is that it’s not his own.