Archiving for my own purposes
wrisomifu is an alternative to Nanowrimo. I’m playing there, because I cannot possibly keep up with Nano.
None of which really matters, but the point is that at yesterday’s check in, they did a drabble fest.
I failed to write two drabbles, since one’s almost 300 words and the other’s over a hundred, so call ‘em un-beta’d ficlets.
Prompt: What show or commercial would you stick the Winchester brothers in? Write the scene!(Supernatural) for tapati
Dean made the you expect me to eat lettuce? face. “We do what?”
“It’s a race. We just have to beat other teams through a series of challenges and -“
“And you watch this?”
“I don’t live in a pop culture vacuum, Dean.”
“You don’t get to tease me about my prime time choices any more, is all I’m saying. Get your ass in gear.”
Sam’s fundamental familiarity with languages wasn’t enough to let them communicate with the locals, but it did serve to match the map with road signs. Sam was pretty sure they were supposed to use a taxi instead of hotwiring a car, but it’s not like they would even be here in a few hours. It’s not as though any of this was real.
They passed the best friends at the river bridge and hit the wire fence at the same time as the newlyweds. She slowed down and he stopped to help her over the twisted wire at the top, while Dean held onto the top pipe barely long enough to slow his fall and he hit the ground a half step behind Sam. Then it was just the two of them, racing one another to the fellow in the shorts who stood with crossed arms and a brightly colored envelope. Sam grabbed it mid stride and Dean pulled up, gasping out muttered obscenities good naturedly. Sam popped the seal on the envelope and the world flickered around them.
He shook his head to clear the effect and realized they weren’t on the uneven brick of the Romanian alley, but rather on slick hardwood. Dean was in a stagey motorcycle jacket and Tom Bergeron stood before them both with a microphone titled toward Dean.
“Fuck me,” Dean said.
I may have failed to make it obvious, since I don't actually watch either, but the shows I was trying to use are the Amazing Race and Dancing with the Stars
And
prompt: NCIS, Tony/Tim, movies for torakowalski
“Robin Hood?”
“The Errol Flynn one, not the Disney with the foxes. But yeah, Robin Hood.”
“I give you Bogie, you give me the Prince of Tights?”
“You said masculine ideal, Tony. You were expecting me to say Rocky Balboa?”
“Adrian!”
“No, Marian. And you’re in my way.”
Tony didn’t move. “This explains a lot, actually.”
“You cannot analyze me on the basis of a movie.”
“Of course I can, probie. Moral choices over unjust laws, true love triumphant, omnipotent father figure making things right, so much makes sense now.”
“You’re calling Gibbs Richard the Lionhearted?”
“You asking to hear me roar, diNozzo?”
Tony stiffened. “No boss.”
“Talk to me.”
Hee! And no one wrote to my prompt, but that's okay, since I'll be writing about chupacabras myself today between training presentations and order releases.
Okay, some days this writing thing is fun.
None of which really matters, but the point is that at yesterday’s check in, they did a drabble fest.
I failed to write two drabbles, since one’s almost 300 words and the other’s over a hundred, so call ‘em un-beta’d ficlets.
Prompt: What show or commercial would you stick the Winchester brothers in? Write the scene!(Supernatural) for tapati
Dean made the you expect me to eat lettuce? face. “We do what?”
“It’s a race. We just have to beat other teams through a series of challenges and -“
“And you watch this?”
“I don’t live in a pop culture vacuum, Dean.”
“You don’t get to tease me about my prime time choices any more, is all I’m saying. Get your ass in gear.”
Sam’s fundamental familiarity with languages wasn’t enough to let them communicate with the locals, but it did serve to match the map with road signs. Sam was pretty sure they were supposed to use a taxi instead of hotwiring a car, but it’s not like they would even be here in a few hours. It’s not as though any of this was real.
They passed the best friends at the river bridge and hit the wire fence at the same time as the newlyweds. She slowed down and he stopped to help her over the twisted wire at the top, while Dean held onto the top pipe barely long enough to slow his fall and he hit the ground a half step behind Sam. Then it was just the two of them, racing one another to the fellow in the shorts who stood with crossed arms and a brightly colored envelope. Sam grabbed it mid stride and Dean pulled up, gasping out muttered obscenities good naturedly. Sam popped the seal on the envelope and the world flickered around them.
He shook his head to clear the effect and realized they weren’t on the uneven brick of the Romanian alley, but rather on slick hardwood. Dean was in a stagey motorcycle jacket and Tom Bergeron stood before them both with a microphone titled toward Dean.
“Fuck me,” Dean said.
I may have failed to make it obvious, since I don't actually watch either, but the shows I was trying to use are the Amazing Race and Dancing with the Stars
And
prompt: NCIS, Tony/Tim, movies for torakowalski
“Robin Hood?”
“The Errol Flynn one, not the Disney with the foxes. But yeah, Robin Hood.”
“I give you Bogie, you give me the Prince of Tights?”
“You said masculine ideal, Tony. You were expecting me to say Rocky Balboa?”
“Adrian!”
“No, Marian. And you’re in my way.”
Tony didn’t move. “This explains a lot, actually.”
“You cannot analyze me on the basis of a movie.”
“Of course I can, probie. Moral choices over unjust laws, true love triumphant, omnipotent father figure making things right, so much makes sense now.”
“You’re calling Gibbs Richard the Lionhearted?”
“You asking to hear me roar, diNozzo?”
Tony stiffened. “No boss.”
“Talk to me.”
Hee! And no one wrote to my prompt, but that's okay, since I'll be writing about chupacabras myself today between training presentations and order releases.
Okay, some days this writing thing is fun.