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labyfic2020-10-02 12:20 pm
jalenstrix) wrote in labyfic2020-10-02 12:20 pm
Entry tags:
Drabble #97: Priorities
...we had a quieter response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 96, with an entry by me (your intrepid drabble proposer
jalenstrix).For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:
Priorities
Whose priorities? What are these priorities? Does anyone object? Tell us all about it labyfic-style!
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the suggested limit for this month of 500 words. Though remember that shorter pieces are most definitely welcome!
Your entry should take the following format, posted as a comment on this entry:
Word count: # of words
Drabble: $your_beautiful_drabble
I'll aim to get the next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (November 6).
I'm also very happy to take suggestions if something in particular strikes your fancy -- comment on this post or PM me with your suggestions. You can see our current collected suggestions here.
Remember: Feedback is LOVE. So do reply to your fellow labyficcers' drabbles if so inclined. (Though be careful of concrit unless specifically okayed by the author beforehand.)
no subject
Drabble:
The sunlight streaming through the windows was brilliant and golden, beckoning all and sundry for a leisurely afternoon in its heady embrace. It had the added bonus of highlighting the stunning regalia Jareth had donned, making him look like he was carved from glacier ice and velvety shadow. He looked intimidating as hell and absolutely smashing and there was no way on earth I was letting him go without a fight. (It was a good thing his castle wasn’t technically on earth.)
I hugged a teary-eyed Feanor to me and kissed the top of his head before lifting my eyes to Jareth. “It’s a matter of priorities. Which would you rather do? Spend time with your tiny darling son who just wants to be near his father,” I held out a now hopeful-looking Feanor for emphasis, “or go to yet another useless administrative initiative?”
Jareth crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t classify the Goblin Summit as a ‘useless administrative initiative.’”
“No? When’s the last time anything actually got done except you listening to endless factions squabbling?”
He arched an eyebrow. “It’s about my presence as their ruler. I provide the proper authority to the proceedings.”
“Mmhmm. How often do you do something besides look sternly down at them?”
He paused, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly. “I occasionally tweak my lips up in an inscrutable half-smile.”
“Right. So just make a projection of yourself that does that on endless loop, and send it there instead.”
Irritation flashed across his face. “I can’t just do that on a whim.”
“And why not? Your power in this realm is pretty absolute. And the summit’s being held in your realm, isn’t it?”
He blinked thoughtfully as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, luxuriating in a ray of sunshine that fell across his face. “It takes time to make such a projection.”
Gotcha, my love. “Be fashionably late.”
Feanor let out an adorable squeak and stretched his little hands out. “Papa? I help make pro-dek-shun?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Tell me you can resist that.”
He gathered Feanor into his arms and kissed the top of his son’s head. “You, my lad, are devious. You must get it from your mother.”
Feanor giggled.
I kissed Feanor’s cheek. “Yeah, I think Papa’s hilarious too, honey.” I leaned up to kiss Jareth. “You two have fun now.”
“And where are you going?”
“I’ll be in the garden on a very nice blanket, lounging in this glorious sunshine. Do feel free to come join me after you finish that projection. I’m sure the blanket will have room.” I kissed them both again. “See you two very soon, yes?”
“Yes, Mama!” said Feanor, now wriggling happily in his father’s arms.
Jareth tucked Feanor firmly under an arm, and made for the door. “Most certainly, my devious love. Let’s go, my lad.”
no subject
no subject
Intemperance
Drabble:
Jareth may not have been able to walk a straight line but he was quite capable of skipping, which he was currently doing while holding Rook’s hand like an errant toddler. Bishop and Grae walked beside them, their arms around each other.
Sarah trailed behind because it was safer to be out of Jareth’s range at the moment, plus it did have the added bonus of the view. Rook wore her usual frock coat of many weapons, but Jareth and Bishop sported Above clothing, so she was pleasantly distracted by the sight of three rather attractive male rear ends.
Rook steered the group to the park where their portal awaited when Jareth loudly announced that he had to pee.
This was how Sarah found herself standing guard under a broken light as Jareth relieved himself in the shrubbery. With his balance a work in progress, Rook stood behind with an arm around his chest.
“How does this work?”
“It’s a zipper, love, you know how it works.”
Sarah was amused that while he had dropped his voice to a whisper he was still annunciating in the manner of every drunk person trying to sound sober. Rook had politely modified her accent for Sarah’s benefit.
“I need a hand.”
“I should warn you that my hands are blocks of ice at the moment.”
“Nevermind, I think I’ve figured it out.”
Sarah suppressed a giggle at her husband’s current bafflement with trousers. It was probably for the best that it didn’t occur to him to just vanish the offending garment and walk around half naked.
At least Jareth had the excuse of inebriation. Grae and Bishop were taking advantage of Jareth’s detour and had surrendered to their lust. Bishop was hard against Rook’s back, his head thrown back on her shoulder, with their hands clasped tightly, while Grae was on his knees. Sarah was pointedly not listening to their activities.
“Your work husbands seem to be getting along.”
“Yes, and your lovely wife is contemplating bogging the lot of us.”
“You haven’t done anything to warrant that.”
“She has me bang to rights on aiding and abetting.”
“Quite so.”
Sarah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. A fun night had suddenly turned into her playing den mother to a bunch of frat boys. She most decidedly did not hear Bishop finish with a groan nor the sound of kissing.
“I see you still haven’t learned to swallow.”
“Sharing is caring.”
There were things she didn’t need to know about her guardsmen and Grae kissing Rook was now top of that list. Sarah supposed she should count her blessings that their conversation was pitched only for her ears and wasn’t being drunkenly shouted to the world. Unlike the voices she could hear that she assumed were describing herself in an incapacitated state. It seemed the bartender who’d doctored their drinks was not acting alone.
“If everybody could put their cocks away, we’re about to have company,” Sarah hissed over her shoulder.
Re: Intemperance
Re: Intemperance