sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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pretending he's a dragon.

............ =/ and the weird thing is... Sherlock isn't high on anything. He's just absolutely bored out of his mind and he's pretending that he has imaginary friends and he's a dragon lord who rules over the Realms Of 221B.

John doesn't believe Sherlock hasn't taken anything at all and he's freaking out and angry because Sherlock PROMISED. He calls Lestrade's drug squad and they can't find anything but Sherlock is highly embarrassed.

Kind of vaguely RTYI?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9406764/1/Great-White-Holmes

Hi Johnny! :D

The message begins quite enthusiastically; a very large contrast to John’s scowl and silently fuming face.

She’ll never let the nickname go, won’t she? he thinks quietly to himself but evidently not enough to be spared from his flat mate’s scrutinizing gaze, that know it all git. He rolls his eyes and opts to continue reading, not bothering to acknowledge Sherlock’s comically raised eyebrow directed to him from across the table. The lack of privacy, even in the comforts of his own head, is something John had come terms with in a surprisingly very short time.

And we’re not even talking about the body parts in the fridge, the once in a while “Get out, John, it’s my turn!” shower incidents where Sherlock can’t wait for a sodding minute and had to cleanse himself from the “badly odors of the world” right now - and no, it doesn’t matter what the hell you’re doing whether you got soap in your eye or the middle of a bubbly bath, not to mention the recent “It’s for a case!” experiment that involved stealing several articles of his clothing shreds and…let’s just say, it’s a very long list.

And somewhere in London in a large discreet unassuming house, in a very protected safe under the bedside table where it could be easily accessed at desperate times of need, is a rather detailed and updated file of the man in question. It is to take note that its first entry of the same man is around the tender age of nine months and four days and has something to do with the death of a newly acquired goldfish. The man of course, remembers nothing of this particular incident. The file’s owner, however, doesn’t.

After a few seconds of prolonged silence, John finally hears a ruffle of paper and a sound only Sherlock can convincingly pull off, a sort of bizarre cross between a childish whine and an irritated groan. He momentarily looks up at his friend to see him sitting in his chair crossed legged while ~~flipping~~ reading the newspaper for the past fifteen minutes in search for a new case. He is wearing his blue dressing gown and his curly hair is sticking in all directions. And by the looks of the very obvious, things are not going well as planned.

So remember Amy? Well we’re sort of hanged out yesterday at her flat– No! No alcohols involved and certainly NOT the one you have in mind. Okay, maybe a can or two. But that was it!

He snorts. Of course he remembers Amy Rogers, the godsend who introduced Harry to the “wonders of YouTube” and probably the only person in existence who successfully managed to make Harry stay away from drinking in a very long time since her breakup with Clara. The strawberry blond fresh graduate (based off his sister’s description of Amy in one of their rare talks over the phone, as he has to meet the woman) moved into Harry’s neighborhood two months ago and though they didn’t get along well at first, they ended up being friends against all odds. Well John isn’t the person to judge, as his unlikely friendship with Sherlock has much more complications and questions with doubt from the Yarders, Mycroft and even Sherlock himself.

Anyways, she showed me this recently posted video which is turning viral as we speak and – OH MY GOD. It’s just brilliant, you need to watch this! Like seriously, Johnny - John scowls at the nickname again, you must see it. Made me thinking about my life in the past few months. The links down below so please watch it, okay?

Now here’s the slight problem. While Harry’s change for the better is certainly welcoming, the rather rapid increase of emails in his inbox is another story. For the past weeks he has become the unofficial “contact number” of the Yarders to Sherlock after they had a breakthrough discovery that sending any form of multimedia via “The Flatmate”, as long as written professionally (ie. No mention of the word ‘freak’, ‘weirdo’ or any name calling of some sort) and with intent, would guarantee less insults and more chance of success that with the person himself.

* A/N I initially planned to post this once the "scene" is done but I thought you might like an update. I'll post again as soon as I can. Thanks! :D *

*Filler here* OH my God epic html fail. So sorry guys, I'll post again. >_

omg haha i need this

+1.

This needs to exist.

Aww, poor Sherlock! Thirding! XD

Hello guys! Okay, I'm up for the challenge so I might be filling this. *slowly steps back away*

Pitches tent /|\

*Author’s Note*
Hello guys! A little fun fact: the title is inspired by the Thai movie “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”, a beautiful love story I recommend to watch with the subtitles on while we’re on hiatus. Obviously this fill is pure crack. Anyways to OP and fellow lovely nonies, I hope you’ll enjoy this fill. I’ll try to update as soon as I can since summer ends (for me) in less than five days and since this is my first fill/fan fiction to any fandom, please don’t hesitate to point out any mistakes. Okay, enough with the rambling. Cheers!

A Crazy Little Thing Called Boredom

.o0o.

"You know that moment when you say or do something out of the blue without thinking twice and then realize a few seconds later that, ‘Oh shit, that was a very, very bad idea.’? Well there’s a six letter word in the English language just for that.... It’s called regret."
- _{An excerpt from viral YouTube video “Why a Few shades of Grey makes Life more Colorful” by justin_time4vr}

.o0o.

It is a Saturday and he just had his first cup of tea and a few bites of some toast when John receives an email from Harry. On normal circumstances he wouldn’t bother opening in the first place, but since when did normal become anything but? Certainly not in 221 B Baker Street when you’re living with a genius who solves crimes on a freelance basis and is a self-proclaimed high functioning sociopath (not that he believed any word of that bullshit, thank you very much).

Besides, I’m just passing time, John assures himself as he hovers the mouse towards the screen.

As expected, the email consist barely nothing but a short hasty message and a link to YouTube. Oh wait, that’s new. John thinks to himself, his interest piping in as he leans closer.

Four months ago he’d been even surprise to hear a drunken voicemail from his sister, but how time flies. Where was I four months ago? Oh yes, just back from Afghanistan with a shoulder wound and a bloody limp (which turned out to be psychosomatic) while feeling sorry for myself until I met Sherlock Holmes and life just didn’t get any better.

Apparently, she found a new guilty pleasure in the form of the popular online video sharing site – probably the least thing John expects from his alcoholic sister but obviously way better than broken bottles and hangovers. John of course, is more than happy on Harry’s decision to sober up and still hopes to his lucky stars it’ll be for good. Though they are never the closest of siblings and have their fair share of arguments, there has been an unspoken agreement of their love and affection with each other.

And sometimes, if he’s in a bad day or one of his rare bad moods against Harry, he reminds himself that their qualms are mere nanometers to the Holmes brothers- the ever dramatic pair, whose idea of threats towards each other include embarrassing childhood stories, government secrets, stolen chocolate cupcakes (If Sherlock was really joking or not that time, he didn’t want to know) and of course – Mummy .

Interesting start! More please!

Hello! It's the filler here and you just don't know how you're comment made my day! I've written a couple of few words but I'll try my best to update as soon as I can. Thanks again. :D

I have no idea how on earth I have very nearly missed this!
Please, please update SOON!

Hello, it's the filler here again and OH MY GOD thank you so much, Nonie! Like I said in my author's note it is indeed my first fic and seeing you guys comment here is something I never thought would happen. I'll really try to update as soon as I can. Thanks!:D

Hi Johnny! :D

The message begins quite enthusiastically; a very large contrast to John’s scowl and silently fuming face.

She’ll never let the nickname go, won’t she? he thinks quietly to himself but evidently not enough to be spared from his flat mate’s scrutinizing gaze, that know it all git. He rolls his eyes and opts to continue reading, not bothering to acknowledge Sherlock’s comically raised eyebrow directed to him from across the table. The lack of privacy, even in the comforts of his own head, is something John had come terms with in a surprisingly very short time.

And we’re not even talking about the body parts in the fridge, the once in a while “Get out, John, it’s my turn!” shower incidents where Sherlock can’t wait for a sodding minute and had to cleanse himself from the “badly odors of the world” right now - and no, it doesn’t matter what the hell you’re doing whether you got soap in your eye or the middle of a bubbly bath, not to mention the recent “It’s for a case!” experiment that involved stealing several articles of his clothing shreds and…let’s just say, it’s a very long list.

And somewhere in London in a large discreet unassuming house, in a very protected safe under the bedside table where it could be easily accessed at desperate times of need, is a rather detailed and updated file of the man in question. It is to take note that its first entry of the same man is around the tender age of nine months and four days and has something to do with the death of a newly acquired goldfish. The man of course, remembers nothing of this particular incident. The file’s owner, however, doesn’t.

After a few seconds of prolonged silence, John finally hears a ruffle of paper and a sound only Sherlock can convincingly pull off, a sort of bizarre cross between a childish whine and an irritated groan. He momentarily looks up at his friend to see him sitting in his chair crossed legged while ~~flipping~~ reading the newspaper for the past fifteen minutes in search for a new case. He is wearing his blue dressing gown and his curly hair is sticking in all directions. And by the looks of the very obvious, things are not going well as planned.

So remember Amy? Well we’re sort of hanged out yesterday at her flat– No! No alcohols involved and certainly NOT the one you have in mind. Okay, maybe a can or two. But that was it!

He snorts. Of course he remembers Amy Rogers, the godsend who introduced Harry to the “wonders of YouTube” and probably the only person in existence who successfully managed to make Harry stay away from drinking in a very long time since her breakup with Clara. The strawberry blond fresh graduate (based off his sister’s description of Amy in one of their rare talks over the phone, as he has to meet the woman) moved into Harry’s neighborhood two months ago and though they didn’t get along well at first, they ended up being friends against all odds. Well John isn’t the person to judge, as his unlikely friendship with Sherlock has much more complications and questions with doubt from the Yarders, Mycroft and even Sherlock himself.

Anyways, she showed me this recently posted video which is turning viral as we speak and – OH MY GOD. It’s just brilliant, you need to watch this! Like seriously, Johnny - John scowls at the nickname again, you must see it. Made me thinking about my life in the past few months. The links down below so please watch it, okay?

Now here’s the slight problem. While Harry’s change for the better is certainly welcoming, the rather rapid increase of emails in his inbox is another story. For the past weeks he became the unofficial “contact number” of the Yarders to Sherlock after a breakthrough discovery that sending any form of multimedia via “The Flatmate”, as long as written professionally (ie. No mention of the word ‘freak’, ‘weirdo’ or any name calling of some sort) and with intent, would guarantee less insults and more chance of success that with the person himself.

A/N So sorry about the epic fail post. >_< But like I said, I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks!

Yes! Perfect! :)

Re: Fill: A Crazy Little Thing Called Boredom - 2/?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-04 11:55 (UTC) - Expand

Intriguing =)

Re: Fill: A Crazy Little Thing Called Boredom - 2/?

(Anonymous) - 2014-07-04 11:58 (UTC) - Expand

actually someone prompted this before having Sherlock "high-as-fuck thinking he's a dragon' i'm fire i am death (prompting part 35, less than page 20)

This prompt is quite different. Pay attention, please. 'High-as-fuck' isn't what the OP wants.

And so he’d been receiving emails (and texts) ever since, ranging from the important to the trivial, mostly from Lestrade and Molly and on one memorable occasion - a drunken email from Anderson himself. The latter, a hilarious nonsensical and nearly incomprehensible lengthy message, he decided to show to Sherlock himself during one of his long sulks (Well what did Anderson expect, he sent them!). What happened next was definitely one of the best nights of his life, as they did literally nothing but giggle and laughed their arses off.

But with Harry’s recurring video recommendations adding to the usual traffic of emails and spams, things start to get very complicated. In fact, he had just cleared his inbox the other day. At this rate he didn’t know whether to thank Amy or not.

Awaiting your next blog update. Love, Harry.

John sighs wistfully, finally reaching the end of the message. Though he hasn’t replied to everything sent to him by Harry, their email exchange in the recent weeks is by far the closest interaction they had for the past ten years. No, must definitely thank her. John firmly resolves. He should definitely meet this Amy sometime in the future. Or better yet, invite her to a cup of coffee. She probably deserves more than that.

He drifts the cursor towards the link, and then stops. John stares at it one more time, frowning. The seemingly random assortment of underlined letters and numbers manage to look smug despite its inanimateness, as if it sensed John’s hesitance and internal battle. It should have been a simple choice for such a mundane thing: to click or not to click, to take the fight or run out of sight. He subconsciously wonders why he has to choose at all. He is the type who acts before he thinks… always have been and though not all decisions end up good, he learned to trust his instincts a long time ago.

Maybe it’s because you still don’t trust her, his traitorous, backstabbing mind supplies. John sighs with resignation because God help him, it seems to be true.

But it’s just a stupid video, not some broken promise or failed expectation.

Surprisingly, it’s same voice in his head who rationally retorts this time. Besides, he’d rather kill time before Sherlock would start throwing insults to the world and demand literal bloody murder, preferably a back to back locked door homicide - now that would be the cherry on the top.

John makes up his mind and a new window opens. Both hands pressed under his chin like in prayer, he waits as the white spiral circle goes round and round in the center of the large rectangular black box. The first thing that catches his eye is the number on the right which was over four million. His eyebrows rise, must be one hell of a video then. It only takes him another look to catch the title in bold capitalized letters below:

WHY DOES A FEW SHADES OF GREY MAKES LIFE MORE COLORFUL

And he barely registers the username when the video begins to play and a man appears.

“Hello Internet!” the man, probably in his early twenties, greets cordially with a wave. With his long flat jet black hair, a casual navy blue t-shirt and a single black earring on his right ear, John swears he looks like one of those Japanese comic book characters brought to life. But his accent screams British and now John’s crazy theory is now overruled.

Behind the man is a large oak table spread with clips of outdated newspapers; on top are assortments of open and closed cans of paint while an array of dry and used brushes lie at the side. At the far back are paintings and canvases of different sizes leaned against the wall, all finished but one.

Is this one of those Do-it-yourself tutorials? John wonders aloud while makes a side sweeping motion with his head before he fixes his gaze back to the screen.

Sorry again for the rather late update. I thought you might like some tidbits rather than waiting for the whole thing (which would probably take more than forever. If there are any html problems, sorry again. Thanks! - AuthorNonie

I really like this. =)

Thanks! You guys are just amazing. :D - AuthorNonie

glad you updated! more pls.

I'm really enjoying this, great fill!

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