#3 Sentence Drabble

[dark-angel-of-muses]

Ravio and Legend kisses

Ravio loves kisses. He'll pout and put on pleading puppy eyes, hanging needily off Legend until he gets his favorite snack. According to the succubus, the affection tastes refreshing, like a mint or lemonade.

"It's a little pick me up! Quick, but satisfying."

That makes sense, although Legend side eyes how many "little pick me up"s Ravio asks from him throughout the day.

Well, he doesn't actually mind. If he gets to kiss his stupid, cute boyfriend and make him happy, that's a win-win.

[lunar-years]

For the first sentence of a fic thing:

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious.

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious. "And neither of you have seen it?" he repeats slowly, staring at each of them in turn with his most intense, patented glare, waiting for one of them to break.

Jamie's face remains completely stoic--impressive, actually. Usually he's first to crack. Keeley shrugs innocently and murmurs, "Guess you must've misplaced it again, babe...."

Roy snorts. Yeah. He'd believed that the first time, when he'd found it buried on Jamie's shelf buried amongst his many, many hair products. Roy must've confused the shelves one night. His eyesight is shit in the dark, after all. Then when he next went to use it, the thing was fucking broken, so okay. Shit happened. Order another, no big deal.

This time, though, the trimmer was brand-fucking-new. And he knows exactly where he placed it once he'd removed it from the packaging. "You know that this is important, right?" he growls. "I've got be at the club in like two hours. Looking professional."

He glances past their heads to catch a sight of himself in the mirror. He meant to get a real haircut, but after a few rounds of putting it off, it's gotten long enough now for the curls to really be coming back, in desperate need of a trim, and his beard looks utterly unruly to match. Altogether, he looks like he's an aspiring caveman instead of the fresh new manager of a Premier League team.

"Your beautiful curls aren't unprofessional," Keeley says crisply, arms crossed and looking all put out like he's offended her talking about his own damn hair. Jesus Christ. "Actually, Jamie found--"

Jamie is instantly at his side, holding out a bottle of curl shampoo. "Bit of this to reduce the frizz, lad, and some beard oil to tame you up a bit in the front...very professional, that. And if it happens to make you look dead sexy, too, well--" He shrugs and exchanges a look with Keeley, who nods encouragingly like he's really selling it. They're both ridiculous.

Roy rolls his eyes. "So you mean to tell me I haven't been able to shave in days because my trimmer keeps disappearing mysteriously, and Jamie just so happened to go shopping for fucking..." he takes the bottle Jamie's holding, "curl-defining shampoo in that same timeframe? By total coincidence?"

"Exactly!" Keeley says cheerfully.

"You know, two hours gives us plenty of time to try it out," Jamie adds nonchalantly, waving the shampoo. His eyes are fucking sparkling. He's gorgeous. He's always so fucking gorgeous. "Probably best if Keeley and I help you out. Gotta really massage it in to get the full effect. It will take all three of us. We should shower together!"

Keeley's heads bobs up and down enthusiastically.

"And my trimmer is--?"

"Oh hush," Keeley says, edging closer, "You can search for that later."

"...or not!" Jamie adds.

Yeah, he thinks, letting Keeley's deft hands work at tugging his shirt over his head. Or fucking not.

[ticklygiggles]

I CLICKED THE WRONG BUTTON GOD DANG IT I'M SORRY I UNFOLLOWED YOU FOR A SECOND 😭😭😭

Anyway, I don't usually submit reqs to you bc I know how many you get and how busy you are and I hate to bug you, but I'm hoping if I'm speedy quick about it I might have a chance? 👉🏻👈🏻

Might I humbly ask for lee!kageyama, ler!hinata, and ribs as the tickle spot? Please feel free to pass if you're not up for it! Love your work, keep up the awesome, and have a good week! 💖

Hehe, don't worry! Not bugging at all, please don't say that! I humbly accept your request and I think you'd be happy to know that you were the second ask, yay! Thank you very much and have a good week yourself! And I hope you enjoy this!

“You were the one that said the winner could punish the loser however he wanted!” Hinata said a bit too eagerly, already straddling Kageyama’s hips to prevent him from escaping. Kageyama’s arms were trembling above his head, but he stubbornly tried to keep them up. “I mean… yes, but I didn’t think you’d want to tickle me!”

Hinata giggled and he raised his hands, fingers spread. “Ten seconds. I will tickle you for ten seconds. I’m sure tough Kageyama can stand it, huh?” Kageyama made a sound deep inside his throat that had Hinata laughing as he set the timer. “Only ten seconds. Get ready, I’m starting in one… tw- now!”

“You sahahAHAID THREHEHE!” Kageyama fought the overwhelming urge to pull his arms down as Hinata clawed at his ribs, starting from the lowest to the highest closer to Kageyama’s underarms, those that had him cackling with loud laughter and that Hinata loved to pay more attention. “I hahahate you so muhuhuhuch! Tihihickling is sohoho unfahahair!” Hinata giggled, tensing his legs around Kageyama’s body when he started to buck his hips. “If you keep complaining I will add five seconds more.” Kageyama shrieked, shaking his head. “NOHOHO! I’m sorry! I’m sohohohorry- ahahaha!”

“Okay, eight seconds left.”

“YOU LIHIHAHAHAR! I HAHATE YOU!”

[sparrowmoth]

"It wasn't a bomb, Jes, it was a minor contact explosion. I think you're being a bit dramatic."

"Me?" said Jesper, clearly affronted. "Me?" he repeated, waving his arms at Wylan, who could do little more than lean slightly away from him in the narrow space. "I'm being dramatic?" He scoffed, then shifted a step back to gesture at the shattered porcelain, cracked tiles, and scorched wall in the tight corner at his right. "You blew up our toilet over a spider..."

Wylan crossed his arms and turned away, cheeks red. "It was self-defence," he mumbled. "It bit me in the—" He stopped abruptly, cheeks impossibly redder as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Never mind. I just needed to make sure it was..."

Jesper raised an eyebrow. "Dead?" he suggested, but Wylan didn't answer. He was staring at something in the rubble, breathing starting to quicken. Jesper followed his gaze and saw it just as Wylan all but tackled him into the wall in a bid to reach the door: there was a large brown spider emerging, seemingly unscathed, from between a pile of broken floor tiles.

"Saints, all that and you didn't even manage to kill it?" Jesper called after Wylan, who'd gone scrambling down the hallway. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then regarded the spider with a tilt of his head. "Doesn't seem fair that I'd kill you now after what you've survived, so come on, hurry up..." Jesper got down on his knees and reached a hand out for the spider to climb on. "Let's get you outside before my dearly beloved can get his hands on more explosives..."

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Congrats on the milestone Brambles!

Hmmm okay how about “Zelda gets Link one of those floppy gardening sun hats”

Thank you for the adorable ask, Newt! Here's a 3-sentence-fic for you!

Peripheral Vision

Link eyed Zelda with a sideways smile as he opened the cylindrical box, revealing a wide, spring-green cloth hat which shot his eyebrows up under his bangs, a grin filling his face as he plucked it from the box and plopped it on his head, declaring it “put Nack’s to shame!”; he left the house wearing it the next morning with a smile full of last night’s memories (of thanking Zelda thoroughly) and the day’s sweet weather, sauntering into the garden like his floppy, shoulder-width hat had crowned him king of the outdoors—but one step from the tangle of trestled tomato vines, he glanced back with a grimace.

The foliage obscured him with his next step, and Zelda’s sudden palpitation (had he feigned his liking for the hat?) decided it warranted immediate investigation, sweeping up her tools and bustling into her meticulously-ordered herb garden, taking her usual notes and clippings while snatching furtive peeks at Link; she found the hat frustrating, for it kept hiding his expression—she in turn would shift position, and each time she stole a glance, he turned away as though he’d been studying her: it clearly necessitated a change of tactics (dropping her tools, marching toward Link, kneeling on the rice-straw mulch, and ducking beneath the hat’s wavy brim to kiss Link’s cheek).

Her excellent excuse to peruse his face (which had been pensive until her kiss) produced a flurry of words between them (“What’s troubling you, Link?” “Nothing!”  “Nonsense.” “No, really!” “I’ll keep asking.”  “Will you keep kissing me?”  “I shall indeed—you shall have no relief until you confide in me.”  “Confide?”  “Of course!  You may trust me with the truth, Link.”  “…HUH?”)—and between each set of words a kiss arrived on Link’s skin—on his cheek, forehead, nose-tip, all over his face, Link laughing more and more between his protests until Zelda swept his hat to the straw with a slow kiss to his lips; she cupped his face, asking if he’d pretended to like his new headwear, but he balked: “Are you kidding?  This is a fantastic hat—but it does make it harder for me to make sure you’re okay, I have to turn my head-“ and her giggle cut him short, her arms now wrapped about his neck—her noble knight, concerned not with aesthetics, but his peripheral vision.

-----

["3-sentence" fic 💀]

[Believe it or not, I cut this down! 😂]

[pfhwrittes]

someone nudge me in 4 hours to get going with the writing thing after i have a nap

[solacium]

3 sentence fic (february '24)

written for ficwip's monthly 3 sentence fic exercise!

for prompt: a first love & a last look

fandom: d.gray-man ship: allen/kanda word count: 289 rating: G summary: kanda says goodbye

—

Yuu doesn't know when exactly, but it hits him, somewhere between the revelations and the investigating, that there could come a point when he would never see Allen again — at least, not as he has always known him; he might still see his face, but he cannot be sure it will still be him, still be his Allen.

His Allen, he thinks, and thinks about how audacious a claim it is to make, that he wants something different out of the boy everyone seemed to want something of — to play host, to take sides, to save the world, et cetera, et cetera — and yet, he remembers the way he had offered up his story, lightly, opening that door that he — that they had all, really — been knocking on, ever since Allen had first disappeared, opened that door for him, just the same way he had first told him he loved him (confessed a first love, offhandedly, as if he didn't care whether Yuu felt the same way), and he thinks that perhaps he can allow himself this one audacious claim.

He tries to imprint the shape of who Allen is, in his memory, the same way he holds the memory of Alma, the same way he holds the hazy fragments of "that person", memorises the cadences of his speech, the set of his jaw, the shape of his eyes, of the way he laughs, protests, fights him, the dear, warm weight of him in his arms, the sum of who he is so much more than his memory can hold, even as Yuu watches him walk away, across the grass, even as he turns away himself, from his last vision of yet another loss, gold-gilt in the sunlight — farewell.

also on ao3

[kitas-cleaning-supplies]

happy six sentence sunday! this one's under the editing pile so hopefully it'll see the light of day soon-ish :D

“Boo, Omi-Omi! C’mon an’ gimme sumnthin’ betta than tha’,” Motoya drawls in a cheap and shitty imitation of his crush. “Don’t call me that.” Kiyoomi disregards the rest of Motoya’s request; haunted for life he may be, but a willing accomplice he is not. (Kiyoomi resolutely does not think how intertwined their lives are, and how little he’d care to actually change it.) “I’m just making conversation Kiyo-chan," Motoya whines, "Give me something to work with here.”

thanks for the tag @lenniereadsalot <3

[declawedwildcat]

"You're sure this is alright?"

It was said quietly, murmured into Rin's collarbone from where Haru had snuggled into it; usually Rin loved to go all-out on their anniversary (dinners, theaters, any number of fancy outings), but this year Haru had made a rare request to do something quiet and less overwhelming like simply staying in and cuddling – but now that Rin had agreed it seemed he was a bit self-conscious of it, worried Rin would miss the usual romantics he so looked forward to.

He smiled, something gentle and loving, and readjusted his grip to pull Haru more tightly against his heart before formulating his reply: "Of course – my whole world is right here, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

[purplebass]

Oh, and a word for Thomastair: Um,,, pearl!

This is part of another longer fic idea I've had in mind for weeks where Thomas and Alastair go to Italy. After we met yesterday, I just knew that I had to use this for the prompt you asked :)

Thomas had never been on an actual beach before, so the day after he and Alastair arrived in Italy, the first thing they did was packing their bags with towels and food and go swimming in the bright blue Mediterranean sea.

They were walking on the shore when something picked Thomas’ interest and he couldn’t help but taking it in his hands to inspect it. “Look what I found,” he said to a curious Alastair, “it looks like an oyster.”

Alastair didn’t know much about seashells, but he believed that Thomas could be right. “It is really interesting,” he commented.

“There is no pearl inside,” Thomas said with disappointment after opening it, not really sure what he was expecting inside the shell.

“You are a pearl, hamsaram,” Alastair said, and that was enough to make Thomas forget about the oyster altogether.

[fickle-tiction]

Lee: Bruce

Ler: Clark

Spot: Scalp

Goosebumps sprung to life on the back of Bruce's neck and raced across his forearms as a shiver wracked his body. He made a small, mortifying sound, too encouraging to be a protest as he leaned into the hand buried in his hair.

"Wow." Clark's laugh was soft; tender. "Here? You're too ticklish for your own good, B."

Bruce huffed a breath out of his nose, even as he stubbornly leaned into Clark's touch. "Shut--" A small hitch in his breath as Clark's fingers gently scratched at his scalp again. "-up."

Clark reveled in the way Bruce shivered beneath his hand, secure in the knowledge that no one else had the privilege of seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He started to pull his hand away, but Bruce caught his wrist before he got very far and forced his hand to stay buried in his thick locks. Clark decided to be merciful and not mention that faint pink dusting the apples of Bruce's cheeks as he resumed his ministrations.

[anarchyduck]

Brushing Hair

"Is this okay?" she asks as she threads her fingers through his hair. Her fingers carefully work out any knots she comes across, gently tugging them free and smoothing out the pale strands. Carefully. Gently. She touches him as though he will break; as though one wrong move will cause him to shatter. It makes Astarion want to snap. 

"It's fine, darling." He keeps his tone in his usual casual, dismissive manner. She hums and continues her work. On the surface, he is composed - a picture of well practiced relaxation and contentment. But just beneath it all, he feels his muscles drawn tight. Each breath is counted, well practiced and rehearsed to complete the illusion. He wonders if Tav can see through the facade. If she’s caught his game yet and is simply playing along for the thrill. 

Tav comes across a particularly nasty knot and murmurs an apology as she works it out. It doesn’t hurt. Astarion almost wishes it did. 

[prompt list]

[sisterdivinium]

Jillian heaved in ecstasy.

“You… Surprise me,” she breathed out.

“Do I?”

“The stereotype… Of passionate Italian seems just right. Either that or… Nunhood and celibacy… Quite inspire you.”

Suzanne stifled a snort.

“Come può una donna così intelligente come te dire certe stupidaggini!"

Jillian pulled her in for another kiss.

“You must admit it’s an uncommon combination,” she said.

“As uncommon as an Englishwoman who forsakes her stiff upper-lip or a scientist who sets reason aside?” Suzanne teased.

Jillian laughed. “I was complimenting you, you know!”

She rolled them over.

“Zealot!”

“Heathen!”

Their provocations merely melted into renewed love.

[ticklygiggles]

Omg omg omg! Three sentences game! Can you do some Lee!Muichiro and Ler!Tanjiro please? For the spot, neck! Like maybe Muichiro's long hair reminds him of Nezuko, and he offers to braid it or comb it out, only to keep brushing up against Muichiro's neck accidentally or on purpose cause Muichiro's a cutie

I hope you have fun! And hope the writer's block passes soon. Have a good day!

You seem so excited omg asjdjsf I love these cuties bonding dsjfjdf so of course I can write this for you! I hope you enjoy this! It got longer than expected ooooopppsss

“You know… I was thinking that your hair reminds me a little bit of Nezuko’s,” he said, gently grabbing one of Nezuko’s braids and showing the two different colors of her hair. “So I was just wondering if your hair would look as pretty when braided, Tokito-kun” he chuckled sheepishly. 

Muichiro looked at Nezuko’s braids and he noticed only then her hair also was two different colors. He looked at Tanjiro and even though he didn’t ask him if he could braid his hair, he could see the question in his bright, big eyes. Muichiro sighed and he turned around, his back facing Tanjiro’s. “That’s stupid, my hair would not look as pretty as Nezuko’s,” he said and he heard Tanjiro gasping softly before he was behind him, his gentle fingers weaving through his hair, trying to remove any knots.

Tanjiro’s touch really was gentle, Muichiro couldn’t help but relax, feeling the gentle pulls of his hair and hearing Tanjiro mumbling as he braided his hair. He even felt like falling asleep, but he just couldn’t because every time Tanjiro’s fingertips brushed against the back of his neck, he would jump slightly, a smile pulling at his lips. Over and over and over Tanjiro’s fingers would brush against his neck and Muichiro could barely stop himself from giggling, until he couldn’t. 

“Tahahahanjiro!” He laughed, scrunching his shoulders and tilting his head back when Tanjiro started to actually tickle his neck. “Ah, so you really are ticklish, huh? I was wondering why you were moving so much, Tokito-kun. You have a cute laugh, don’t you think so, Nezuko?” The girl hummed in agreement and much to Muichiro’s surprise, he felt her nails gently scratching at his exposed neck, making him laugh even more as he tried to escape from both siblings. 

“My brahahahaid!” Muichiro said between giggles, falling on his back as both Tanjiro and Nezuko tickled his neck away. “Ah, don’t worry, Tokito-kun, I have finished quite some time back!” Muichiro gasped, but he could barely do that as he kept laughing and laughing. “I wihihill gehehet you bahahack!”

Well, at least he really looked cute with his hair braided!

[sparrowmoth]

Wesper fae au

@waterloou 🎵 look what you made me do 🎵 dajkgjdkgd

real talk though, I might have to revisit this AU because hmmm

“Might give ye that one at a discount,” said the merchant, grinning crookedly at Jesper as he leaned in over the counter to peer into a cage shaped like a lantern, clearly Durast-made. “He don’t speak or nothing, won’t eat a thing either, but he’s pretty, ain’t he? Ye could enjoy him a few weeks or get him pinned up like them butterflies.”

Jesper’s fingers twitched where they were resting on his hips, hands so near to his guns that he could feel the cool kiss of pearl handles on his skin. He could easily grab them, shoot this merchant where he stood before he knew his life was over—leave the ghost of him to the mercy of the many fae bought and sold for the old man’s tidy profit.

But that wasn’t the mission, or why he was here, undercover in the elusive Ketterdam Black Market. It’d taken months for Kaz to get this invite, and now, here he was, five hundred kruge in his pocket and a new desire to gamble—not on the cards, but on this creature, frail and sickly in its cage, glowing faint as a dying candle—

He’d caught one glimpse of those big brown glassy doll-like eyes under a messy mop of hair, one glimpse of the rags it wore inside its prison, and decided: it was worth Kaz’s wrath to a take chance here.

“I’ll take him,” said Jesper, pulling out his coin purse. “There’s five hundred in here. You can keep it all. I don’t need your discount.”

The merchant’s grin warped into a smirk. “He’s worth more…”

“He is,” said Jesper, gently taking up the lantern cage and holding it protectively to his chest, one arm wrapped around it. “But I know you meant to charge me less, so you accept my generosity…” His hand brushed the length of his coat aside, showing one of his revolvers at his hip, and the merchant’s smirk turned to a sneer. “And we’ll be on our way now. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The merchant scoffed as Jesper turned away, ignoring the old man’s muttering. There was a faint but pleasant warmth emitting from the lantern cage, and it made Jesper hopeful that there was life enough in this fae yet, he could stoke it back to the fire it was meant to be.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Congrats on 400!! 💃🎉Could I maybe request TP Zelink with fluff?

Oops

The sycophantic Prince of Labrynna couldn’t stop sneezing: he sneezed in the courtroom, he sneezed in the garden, he sneezed at the center of the hedge maze (startling even the guards high in the ramparts)—he sneezed at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, his handkerchief having become an ever-moist object of repugnance at court, not least to Queen Zelda (though her poise reflected only patient, kind politeness).

His affliction abated each evening after bathing and resumed in the presence of the Queen, her faithful guard-captain Link, or her faithful guard-wolf (also Link), the cause appearing obvious to them—the Prince, of course, must be allergic to dogs!—so,  Link remained in his human form as he and his Queen underwent a meticulous regimen of de-furring themselves (bathing, laundering clothing and bedsheets, scouring their personal chambers, and cleaning items they kept on their person).

Zelda opened her door to give Link a quick kiss the next morning, then retreated inside (the Prince had threatened promised to escort her to breakfast)—he arrived right on time, approaching Link (ostensibly standing guard), and when a colossal sneeze wracked his frame he blew his nose into that infernal cloth, leaning in to whisper, “I say—that scent will be the death of me!” despite Link’s grimace and sniff, which detected no hint of guard-dog whatsoever; when he said so, the Prince scoffed: “I have hunting dogs, young man—no, it’s that perfume!”—and Link’s eyes shot wide: oops.

---

[Thanks for the ask!! I have a lot of fun with TP Zelink drabbles 😄]