Prompts?

[last01standing]

Am in the mood to drabble. Drop a few words and a fandom to set me off and you may end up with a comment!fic.

[I don't really do romance. Anything else is fair game.]

Comments

[madder-badder.livejournal.com]

Packing for Winnipeg.

Yeah, I went there.

hockey!verse, John, Sherlock

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

[Oh god, WHY IS IT BASEBALL SEASON?]

The flat Sherlock locates in Winnipeg is less than a block from the new practice facility, has two flats, a fireplace and the most expensive heater on the market. John's spent the contemplating how hard it would be to sign with Phoenix, Tampa or Florida, but his agent is surprisingly cold about the notion. John suspects he's been paid off.

"Wasn't your brother going to block this relocation?"

"Marcone is rather difficult." Sherlock seems completely disinterested in packing. He's splayed out on the couch, John's laptop on his stomach as he works on his website. "The last time they had a disagreement, the league missed an entire season."

"But not good, that."

They're in the process of packing the flat. John's room took less than three hours. Most of his clothing is still in suitcases, his furniture in storage in Chicago. John had been rather looking forward to setting down roots. He's spend the past three days trying to surreptitiously bin as much of Sherlock's clutter as he possibly can. While he's more than willing to live with the man, he's less thrilled about the Avalanche of paper.

And the skull. He's been eyeing it for ages, trying to come up with a way to remove it from his life. Sherlock looks enthralled in his work and maybe, this was his chance.

His fingers are just inches away from the skull when Sherlock says, "Patrick will be moving with us."

He's moving to Winnipeg with a mad goaltender and Patrick Roy. John sits down in his chair, too tired to fight.

Re: hockey!verse, John, Sherlock

[madder-badder.livejournal.com]

He's moving to Winnipeg with a mad goaltender and Patrick Roy. John sits down in his chair, too tired to fight.

Wonderful! This makes me happy. Thank you!

(And yeah - baseball season - My team gets an ass-kicking there, too)

[girl-wonder.livejournal.com]

In honor of the icon, Gus is stealthy. Shawn is not.

[princess-aleera.livejournal.com]

I splash the water and watch
the fish dance to the ripples of us

Fandom: SPN
:)

Re: hockey!verse, John, Sherlock

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

(oh god, my baseball team has never had a winning season. They recently went on an 8-game winning streak and still aren't at .500. And this is the least sad season in recent memory. Got to love being at Nats fan. I totally feel your pain.)

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

[God, this is way too low key to sound like a proper Psych fic. =/]

On rainy Sundays when the cable's yet to be paid and there's no new cases, Shawn and Gus head to the SBPD to amuse themselves by stealing things from desks. Lassiter is their favorite target but Juliet, Vick, and McNabb are regular targets. They count up points when they get back to the car. Paperclips are one. Pens count for five. Personal trinkets are twenty. Case files between ten and fifty depending on their completeness. Handcuffs a cold hundred.

Shawn's methods of stealth are laughable. He dresses in all black, wearing a knit cap and a utility belt. He relies on creating distractions first without realizing that he's the biggest distraction in the force. Gus on the other hand, walks up to desks, leans over people's shoulder and lets his fingers do the work. The best possible tool is his briefcase that only rarely holds pharmaceutical information anymore.

Shawn's exits from the force are often accompanied by frisks which he enjoys in various degrees depending on who gives them. Gus hauls the briefcase after him, shaking his head in mock disapproval. At the office, Gus tallies up his points and adds to his paperclip curtain.

Cumulative count for the year. Gus 9,721, Shawn, 19.

SPN: 2nd person monster!fic

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

[God, this is almost definitely not the kind of thing you had in mind, but it's also what sparked. WARNING FOR DEATH (though not Sam or Dean's)]


You watch fish dance. When you splash, it contorts with a spasm and sends itself in a circle, twisting into knots. The mouths bulge out on the sides, the eyes, open, bright and green. The fins, look wrong, the scales smooth where there should be ridges, the shape pointed where it should be wide. It forces its face out of the water, making one of the most hideous noises you've ever hear. You push it back under the water where it belongs and wonder if you'll have to hold this one too. Perhaps removing the metal from its fin had incapacitated it. You contemplate giving it back but the thrashing steals your attention away.

Pressing the face down, you start to count and wonder why this fish seems to think it can survive on land. Most of the fish calm after a minute in the water and this one is no different, oddly pointed fins beginning to float like they should. The mouth is open finally, taking in the sustenance it needs. You grab it by the misshapen pair of tails and drag it into the deep. It will be the perfect offering for Mother.

[girl-wonder.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA.

*hugs*

I love this fic like bacon.

[starfoozle.livejournal.com]

Sam and Gene argue about something on the radio.

Re: SPN: 2nd person monster!fic

[princess-aleera.livejournal.com]

O.O

Woah, this was so... weird. Where the hell did that come from, I wonder? 8D

This was awesome. So original; I've never read anything like it. <3

Re: SPN: 2nd person monster!fic

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

I know, right IDEK where the hell this comes from. I haven't written SPN in so long, it was easier to write monster fic than Winchester fic. =/

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

[Oh God, HAVE I MENTIONED HOW TERRIFYING IT IS FOR ME TO WRITE GENE?]

When Sam makes the conscious decision to go back, some wires get crossed, which may or may not have something to do with impact on the pavement. But after the fall, when the radio plays, Sam's got a direct line to the future.

And suddenly the Who isn't the Who. It's the Arctic Monkeys singing I Bet the You Look Good on the Dance Floor, which he can deal with. He likes the Arctic Monkeys. The lyrics are clever and the riffs his just right, but that's not the only crossing.

Gene's favourite singer is the American import Rod Stewart and every time it comes on the radio, what Sam hears is 'Nasty Girl.'

"Please, can we just sit quietly?"

"And listen to your dulcet tones non-stop," Gene says between verses. "I'd sooner let a mad weasel have a go at my nether regions."

"Charming, Guv," Sam retorts.

Gene's belting out the lyrics to Maggie May, but underneath it all Sam can hear is Notorious Big rapping, I love my little Nasty Girl. He doesn't know if he would have stayed if he'd know he might lose the music.

[And YOU! You're back. Hope your trip was lovely]

[starfoozle.livejournal.com]

(You did not, but I can certainly understand that! Gene is a terrifying sort of guy.)

Ah, I love this. Sam's got good taste in music, and I really do not blame him for loathing that alternative to Rod Stewart. Poor guy. Very cool concept.

(Yes, I have returned, and it was! I'll need to do some write-ups about it when I actually get some downtime.)

[trolllogicfics.livejournal.com]

(Gene talks in almost incomprehensible slang a lot of the time. I've watched LOM three times through and I still miss some of what he's saying._

Looking forward to hearing about your mad European adventures.