Three Sentence Ficathon 2016!
Mar. 17th, 2016 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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3sentencefic(Because one didn't seem to have started this year, and I admit to wanting very much to participate in one of these challenges!)
Presenting the Three Sentence Ficathon 2016!
The Steps:
1. Prompt the fandom/pairing/situation of your heart, preferably in the following format: fandom, character/pairing, prompt word/sentence. .
2. Find a prompt by someone else (or heck, your own) that catches your interest.
3. Fill the prompt in no more than three sentences. (NB: This is really more of a guideline
4. Revel in reading the (hopefully large) amounts of fics thereby produced.
5. PROFIT!
Presenting the Three Sentence Ficathon 2016!
The Steps:
1. Prompt the fandom/pairing/situation of your heart, preferably in the following format:
2. Find a prompt by someone else (or heck, your own) that catches your interest.
3. Fill the prompt in no more than three sentences. (NB: This is really more of a guideline
4. Revel in reading the (hopefully large) amounts of fics thereby produced.
5. PROFIT!
Marvel/My own Painkiller AU, Frank Castle & Joan & Dave
Date: 2016-04-09 07:00 pm (UTC)Dave buried his forefinger deep in the pile of spent coffee grounds from the day before.
"Eww," Joan made a disgusted face at him. Frank shrugged at her; sparing with words as he was, he did not go into the trouble of pointing out he'd used his own finger to get the stuff out from the coffee maker.
Dave commented: "This feels wrong - there should be a way to repurpose this."
"When I agreed to run a diner with you, I had no idea you would turn into such a hipster," Joan said, but she considered the question anyway. "Can't you use them as fertiliser - grow roses or some such?"
Frank's eyebrows rose above his cup.
"In Brooklyn?"
"You could grow stuff on fire escapes," Dave said, clearly getting lost in his idea of an urban organic paradise as he used to be in his videogames. Joan gave him another incredulous look.
"Fire. Escapes," Frank said, not incredulously but like a teacher explaining patiently to a child too slow on the uptake. Dave reacted by making an "oh!" sound and practically hiding himself in his cup.
"Don't ever block a tactical exit in a twenty mile radius of Frank," Joan giggled, and immediately found herself the only one not staring intently into her morning coffee.