#160 words

[reverie-tales]

Oh drabble!

A drabble a day keeps the writing blues away.

Drabble #5

He laughs, and her heart is awakening anew. "I've caught one, Jesminda." Russet eyes beaming, he laughs again and runs to her. "My first."

The trout flaps in his arms, soaking his shirt before he drops it in a basket quarter full on the sand.

"Impressive, my lord. Catch two more before I do, then you'll earn a kiss. Catch three, then you'll earn a wish."

A jest, but perhaps a dare.

He smirks. "A kiss and you at last calling me by name. That's my wish." He rushes back to the stream. "Will I not be your equal by then?"

He is bold.

For a moment, she considers letting Lucien outdo her. She walks right to where he stands in the water. Flashing him a smile, she decides she will not make it easy for him at all.

With swift hands, she snatches the first fish swimming near his feet.

"Only two more before it's your loss," she teases.

Dividers are by saradika-graphics

[konfuse]

@frobinfandays

Week 1 for #FRobinMonth2023: Team 

Franky and Robin are a great team. 

That already showed in their first fight. Right then and there Robin could already feel how good they worked together. Even back then – on the bridge – deep down she knew she could trust Franky to have her back. And he has since then. She knows that if he is close by she will be safe. After Enies Lobby she learned that it was the same with all her friends but Franky had been the first she experienced it with. 

It felt special. 

After that, every adventure they shared, every fight they had to push through, they are a great team! 

Not that it is any different during their down time on Sunny. 

They help each other with repairs and research and they just excel whenever there are games that need teaming up. 

Robin likes that they are compatible. Robin likes their dynamic. Robin likes him!

A lot. 

And she is going to find out how compatible they really are. 

[mundrakan]

Prompt: Struggle

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus struggled to open his eyes and kick away the blankets. Why in Merlin's name did it have to be the day after the full moon? And why so terribly early still? But there was no helping it, some things were more important than sleep. He got dressed, shaved and cleaned up as much as his shabby clothes and shabby bath allowed to make himself presentable. He went over to the ministry still moderately early. He couldn't risk to be late even one minute.

Of course he had to wait then, but it would be worth it, no matter how much people tried to make him feel bad. Then, finally, after what felt like hours, a whole eternity really he was escorted to the DMLE and further towards the holding cells, and there a door was opened for him that had remained shut far too long.

He struggled to recognize the man before him. But he did. Indeed he did.

[dartier]

Headcanon — If you can't beat ‘em, bribe ‘em

James Bond has 534 tried and true methods for extricating Q from his Branch.

But when the full-on smoulder goes unsnarked, the ear nibble with scruff nets him a distracted swat, the perfect cup of tea placed precisely within reach merits not even a deep inhale, let alone a sip, let it never be said that James Bond won't call in reinforcements when the straits are truly dire.

He just bribes Q’s cats to doze on Q’s keyboard and then he pulls out his never fail tricks.

He throws Q over his shoulder and launches himself through the door, so R can lockdown Q’s office. (Don't worry, the cats have special doors. Can you imagine cats redesigning pneumatic tube delivery systems though.)

((James is much too smugly pleased with himself to notice his Boffin’s smirk and jaunty wave to his Branch from his elevated sprawl.))

And then James spends the rest of the night making it up to Q.

Kitty Photo Prompt by QB-G3 @bluebellofbakerstreet

[teenwolf--imagines]

The One Where Peter Has A Son

REQUESTED, PETER HALE

“What the fuck do you mean? I have a son?” Peter sputtered. He was indignantly waving his arms around like a preacher on cocaine. Scott ducked his hand as it swung by his face- “Yeah, you have a son. My new pack member.” Peter sneered “And he’s in your little misfit pack? Good God, McCall.”

Stiles wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate to show how funny he found the situation, ultimately deciding that a little laughter would be harmless. “Stop fucking giggling, Stilinski!” Stiles was promptly shoved against the wall. Wearily, Scott removed his friend from Peter’s grip.

Sighing, he asked, “So... what’s my kid like, then? As great as his dad?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, he fortunately didn’t inherit your evilness. He’s a decent guy.” Scott nodded “He saved my life when a rogue omega attacked. I really owe him.”

Peter shook his head disapprovingly and scoffed: “I gotta meet this clown... Saving Scott? Can’t be my kid.”

[mundrakan]

Order

@wolfstarmicrofic

“Order!” shouted the speaker of the Wizengamot. “Order!” It was of no use. The present Lords, leaders of their respective Houses, still screamed at each other with ever rising intensity. Some wanted to see the criminal Sirius Black executed, no matter the circumstances. His misdeeds seemed so vile that even discussing them was already an abomination. Some stated, not without reason, that it was merely prejudice against the Dark families that made such accusation even possible. The wisest Lords worried, for if one Heir could be sent to Azkaban without proper protocol and procedure, so could theirs.

From outside the room, Remus could hear the uproar and smiled. He wasn't allowed in their, yet it was still his doing. He wouldn't stop, until even the last, most backward and stupid Lord had understood one thing: Sirius was unrightfully arrested. Even if he was guilty, and Remus wasn't all that sure about that – he still deserved to be heard.

[swift-footed-achilles-ams110]

I am more than pleased at the article telling that I showed no mercy to your killer. Hector did not deserve respect in his death. I feel the quote It records me stating is still the best way I had felt at the time:

"my rage, my fury would drive me now to hack your flesh away and eat you raw – such agonies you have caused me." 

Of course, eventually I had to give up dragged Hector's body around, lest I lose favor to the gods. But the article does not go into enough detail to how I still did not wish to.

but...

I do suppose I learned something else that day. Seeing the king of troy, Priam, beg at my feet.. While I detest Hector with every being of my soul, he was still a son. He was still loved, with a wife and child. Just as you were cared, Patroclus. Just as you were my closest companion.

[twowug]

Where the Party At?

In an advertising class I took last year, my professor--we'll call her Professor Stickler--went ballistic over a Kent State advertisement. Like, 25-minute-discheveled-hair-shouting-rant ballistic.

The ad was put out by KSU's Athletics Department and featured in the Daily Kent Stater. I've forgotten the exact wording of the ad copy, but it said something along the lines of "Where the party at?"

The reason for this particular rant was the poor sentence structure in the ad. Professor Stickler argued Kent State is a professional institution and therefore should always use standard English.

Given the situation, I disagreed. The ad was trying to look 'hip' and target college students by using informal copy. "Where is the party?" would certainly have sufficed, but it wouldn't stand out as much. I'm sure the marketing department did its research, and I'm sure this "incorrect" grammar was done completely intentionally.

Does it make the university--or even just the Athletics Department--look less professional? Personally, I don't think so.