DN Drabbles for shukuun
Title: Artificial Food Colouring
Fandom: Death Note
Words: 100
Prompt: citrus
L licked the remnants of his fourth cream puff from the base of his palm and ‘hmm’ed in appreciation for the tasty dessert. Raito made a disgusted noise from the back of his throat.
“Why don’t you eat some fruit or whole grains once in a while?” Raito took a crunching bite from his apple to emphasize his point. L’s reply was to pop another pastry in his mouth as he glanced to the side. The auburn haired man followed his companion’s train of vision to where a half empty box of tarts sat.
“…‘100% real lemon filling’ doesn’t count.”
Title: Got Your Back
Fandom: Death Note
Words: 100
Prompt: 'that itch you can't scratch'
Raito closed his eyes and counted to 10 in eight different languages (most of them picked up from foreign news channels), but just when the damnable clinking and annoying tugs stopped at ‘quatre,’ an odd rubbing noise began as the chair groaned with a shift of weight. He placed his 0.5 pencil down with a little more force than necessary, breaking the tip of his lead, and gave the other an exasperated glare.
L paused in the middle of a rather awkward position on his swivel seat, knees bent and back arched as Raito reached around his shoulder and scratched.
Fandom: Death Note
Words: 100
Prompt: citrus
L licked the remnants of his fourth cream puff from the base of his palm and ‘hmm’ed in appreciation for the tasty dessert. Raito made a disgusted noise from the back of his throat.
“Why don’t you eat some fruit or whole grains once in a while?” Raito took a crunching bite from his apple to emphasize his point. L’s reply was to pop another pastry in his mouth as he glanced to the side. The auburn haired man followed his companion’s train of vision to where a half empty box of tarts sat.
“…‘100% real lemon filling’ doesn’t count.”
Title: Got Your Back
Fandom: Death Note
Words: 100
Prompt: 'that itch you can't scratch'
Raito closed his eyes and counted to 10 in eight different languages (most of them picked up from foreign news channels), but just when the damnable clinking and annoying tugs stopped at ‘quatre,’ an odd rubbing noise began as the chair groaned with a shift of weight. He placed his 0.5 pencil down with a little more force than necessary, breaking the tip of his lead, and gave the other an exasperated glare.
L paused in the middle of a rather awkward position on his swivel seat, knees bent and back arched as Raito reached around his shoulder and scratched.