#miniprompt

[twola]

Just my favourite thing about Arthur is how he rests his hand on his belt like yessssss sassy pose!!!

Stance

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

A wet shirt hits you in the face. You sputter, peeling it off of you and turn back toward the wash bin from where your attention had pulled you away.

Karen sits across from you with a self-righteous grin, elbow deep in the murky water. Mary Beth covers her mouth to laugh as she is pinning a pair of pants on the line strung from the wagon to a nearby tree branch.

“The hell was that for?” You grumble, wiping your face with the sleeve of your blouse.

“You should try bein’ more subtle bout the fact you’re sleepin’ with him?” Karen states with a sly grin.

You sputter again, your face going crimson, “I-I’m not, we’re not-”

Karen tilts her head as if she’s going to scold you. “Wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.”

You let out a sigh, blush still staining your cheeks. You know you’ve been caught, “Ugh, how do you know that?”

Mary Beth slinks over toward the tub to whisper between the two of you, “The way you’re staring at that gunbelt round his hips doesn’t do you any favors.”

Karen bursts into laughter, “Like a damn cat in heat you are.”

As if it was possible to get any redder, you do, immediately staring down into the water as you scrub even harder at the piece of laundry in your hands.

As the two girls laugh amongst themselves, you steal a look back toward Dutch’s tent, trying not to be as obvious this time. Arthur stands talking to Dutch, cigarette in one hand, the other resting upon the large buckle of the gunbelt slung low on his hips.

Turning back to the laundry, you cannot help but to smile to yourself. Sure, you’d have to endure their teasing, but it wasn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things.

Not when you’d be able to take that gunbelt off of him later tonight.

[omegadeanlovesalphacas]

For the miniprompt how about Cas fucking Dean in a glass elevator at his work?

Oh fuck that sounds lovely.

[brudberg1]

Moonmind

Moving myselfwaltzing to melodiesmoonmindedmindlessly mesmerisedlunaticked wolflikehowling the huesof silver on cobalttransfixedin her gazeI am tethered to sequinsher luster, her sheenmy madam forevermy midnight, my moon. The Wandering Moon – William Blake Today Mish hosts dVerse Open Link, and she has offered us the miniprompt to use the miniprompt with the moon and two different pictures. My…

[cyber-streak-2]

Seguestions for easy to run event for the 1K mile stone. You've mentioned having stuff going on irl. Assuming you want to. There's no obligation to do a milestone event.

One word miniprompts- character + word and 100-200 words if what you associate with the word. Kinda like apples to apples. Eg Fucrum + sourdough = A paragraph of ya boi going geting verklempt over the fact humans use wild micro organism to make their food when chemical or even domesticated microbes are available.

Run a raffle for a fic or two. Maybe for one 1K, and 2 5k

Run an in character AMA. Give a list of questions and a list of characters and ask for folks to pick a question or two for the character. Set a limit on the number of times you'll answer for a specific character or question then edit the post to strike them out once you've reached the limit.

Hope this is helpful

Ooh, those seem kind of fun to do, maybe I’ll do one of those later. Thanks.

[the-element-siren]

Tiny Darklina Prompt

Sorry for spoilers

When Alina kills Aleksander at the end of Ruin and Rising, he wakes ups on the day that he creates the Fold. Now with a chance to change things, what does he do different?

[hellenictabletalk]

Mid-Month Mini-Prompt!

The mid-month mini-prompt for June is a pretty simple, and hopefully fun one, just so everyone can dip their toes in and start to get a feel for this. This month, we’re asking everyone to tell us what your favorite myth is. It can be a classic, or something modern; about any of the Theoi. 

Submissions and reblogs are preferred, but you can also @ us or tag us in your posts!

[dinlukepositivityweek]

New monthly mini-prompts will also be announced in a few days!

Again these are just for some quick warmups to the main event, but if you're on a roll with your miniprompt project you're 100% okay to turn it in late. Just be sure to tag us when you're done!

[op-sheepy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Portgas D. Ace/Trafalgar D. Water Law Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Penguin (One Piece), Shachi (One Piece) Additional Tags: AceLaw Mini Prompts Series: Part 3 of AceLaw Mini Prompts Summary:

A question is asked within a request revisited

For AceLaw Week Mini Prompt #3: Trust

For @acelaw-week's mini-prompt "Trust."

A lot late but here’s the next in the AceLaw miniprompt drabble series. The rest to follow.

[whorphydice]

Miniprompt: Ophelia’s first date and how Orpheus and Eurydice react

BUT BUT BUT OPHELIA DOESNT DATE SHE HAS A FEW HOOK UPS BUT DOESNT DATE (thanks persephone for scaring her away)

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Merino

A big thank you to everyone who sent in prompt ideas for me for the 600 follower give-away! I had a blast and I hope you did too! Feel free to check out my Master List for all of my other Ikesen works. 

Prompt from Nonny: MINIPROMPTS!!! Can I request Mitsubun with feeling something ridiculously soft or fluffy?

I’ve been a touch under the weather so it took a little longer than I would have liked to get this out to you but here it is! I hope you enjoy!

Happy reading fam!

T~

Merino

You were deep into winter and Kyoto had grown so cold you had finally decided to pull out the flannel bed sheets, the merino wool throw, and the softest onesies you owned. It was the best you could do to try and make sleeping a little more comfortable since the heat in the building was out, and while it was better, it still wasn’t the best.

By the time Mitsunari managed to make it home you were already nose deep in the pile of extra soft fabrics curled up with his cat. There was a moment's pause as he stepped closer to the bed before a sweet smile took over his features.

“You look warm,” Mitsunari said as he placed a hand on your head, running his cool fingers through your hair.

“Not nearly warm enough.” You found yourself speaking louder than usual to fight the muffle of the blankets as you rested your head against his hand. “Come join me? You look chilled. I left out some PJ’s for you over there on the heater.”

Quickly Mitsunari took off the simple sweats he had himself dressed in to visit the library and stepped into the onesie, eyes growing wide as he zipped it up. “(YN), this is so soft.”

Mitsunari stood stock still in the middle of the room, slowly running his hands up his own torso. You gave him a cute giggle as you pulled your arms from your burrow. “If you think that’s soft you have to come here and feel all of these blankets.”

Snapping out of his reverie Mitsunari wandered to the bed as you lifted the soft and heavy blankets up, he stood and waited while you wiggled over to the side to make room for him. Gingerly he slid in where your hand patted at the bed as his face went blank.

“Mitsunari, babe? You okay?” You asked, a little unnerved by his silence. You had seen him zone out before, but usually, it was with a book, or something he could engage in, never like this.  Cautiously you carded a hand through his bangs, brushing your fingertips against his forehead before you dragged them down his cheek.

He hummed a quiet yes as he leaned into your touch, falling forward until the both of you were a tangled mess of limbs and fuzzy fabric. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so soft before.” Mitsunari’s eyes were wide with astonishment as he nuzzled in closer to you, planting a kiss to your forehead. “It’s almost as nice as your hair.”

You felt yourself stutter and flush a deep crimson at the compliment, quickly burning our face against his chest as you let out a “thank you.” only to have it muffled by your position. It wasn’t long after that the two of you dozed off, curled up with one another.

[twola]

your last rb… there’s something about an angry arthur, covered in dirt and sweat, dirtying his sweet s/o’s blouse and skirts as he rips them from her body so he can ease his frustrations with her 😩

His hands are shaking. He shouldn’t be surprised, with the simmering anger still pulsing beneath his skin.

Goddamn Micah.

The coach that slimy snake was so damn desperate to hit sure as hell wasn't worth the take. Sixty bucks? Certainly not worth the the dead bodies strewn around the road. Not worth getting bucked from his horse and tearing his damn shirt and goddamn it all, he hates that sonovabitch.

It's a good thing its so late, by the time they got back to the camp, most people had turned in for the night. Arthur stalks over toward his wagon and cot and strips his gun belt from his hips, tossing it on his cot along with his worn old hat. His satchel hits the floor. He grinds his teeth as he runs one hand through his hair, absentmindedly thinking that he needs to see a barber soon.

Like a livewire, angry energy pulses through his blood - there was no way he'd be able to sleep anytime soon. Groaning in frustration, he kicks the ground under his boots and leaves the yellow-orange glow of the lantern hanging from the wagon above his cot. Moving toward the woodline, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from pants pocket, having tucked them and a book of matches in before leaving his cot.

By the time he reaches a large oak tree to lean against a bit further away from camp, he's puffing large clouds of smoke from between his lips, the cigarette doing nothing to calm him down.

Goddamn Micah.

"Arthur?"

He breathes out another plume of smoke before tossing the cigarette to the ground, putting it out under his boot before looking up.

You stand a few yards away from him, wringing your hands and having a concerned look on your face. Worry is etched into your features as you eye him up and down.

Goddamn Micah. Now his frustration over this damn job has gotten you worried, the last thing he ever wants to do.

"Are you alright, love?" You ask softly, your voice higher pitched than normal as you take a hesitant step toward him, like a newborn lamb, afraid and fearful of the wolf that he his.

"M' fine." He grits out, unable to hide the hardness in his glare as he meets your eyes. You flinch, radiating discomfort as you come closer, braving the snarling of the wolf you've tied yourself to - knowing that he is not all harshness and sharp teeth.

"C'mere." He drawls lowly, holding out his arm toward you, knowing that you're dubious in your approach.

But approach you do, and he slides his hand around your small waist, absentmindedly noting that you need some more meat on your bones. He heaves you against him the last half step between you, and you stumble slightly before you are secure in his embrace, one large arm locking you in against him.

He knows he's dirtying your blouse, a faded pink that does not stand up to the dirt and grime painted over his blue workshirt, but right now, he couldn't care, closing his eyes and placing his chin on the top of your head, trying to assuage the aggravation in his blood. Your small hands press against his chest lightly as you situate yourself in his embrace, and your movement only stands to heat his blood further.

His hand moves from your waist, down, down to your rear, where he takes an entire handful of your ass as you yelp in surprise, clutching at his shirt as you push against him completely, continuing to stoke him.

Sometimes, there is a part of him that hates the idea of sullying you so - he's brash and dirty and an outlaw - you're meek and quiet and pickpocket when needed, your doe eyes seducing men with their innocence. But lord, when he strips you down and gets you beneath him, the sounds you make are downright filthy, rivaling far-flung whores he's seen over the years across the west.

Goddamn Micah. The heat in his blood and your body against him, he knew, he knew that the only way to power through this frustration was to bury himself inside you. His head moves further downward, nipping at your neck as you yelp again, jolting in his arm and fully pressing yourself against him. You shiver as he kneads your ass cheek, the long, hard line of him pressed against your stomach as he groans into the damp skin of your neck.

"Fuck, darlin'-" Arthur moves up toward your ear, whispering breathily in low tones that make you shiver again, "Lemme have you, right here."

"H-here?" You ask, turning your face toward his and he muffles any further question as he shoves his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

God, you sweet little thing. You never tell him no. You give a little sigh into his mouth and lean into him, giving your approval with a small press of your belly against his hardness, to which Arthur takes complete advantage.

Your pretty clothes, that dusty pink blouse and light grey skirt, pressed against his dirt stained outfit, they will need laundering right away. One of Arthur's hands yanks at the ties of your skirt, and with a bit of finessing, it falls to the ground as he pushes you back slightly, your eyes lust-blown and your lips swollen as he pulls at the hem of your blouse, pulling it up your midriff, up and over your breasts, and over your shoulders as you hold your arms up for him to strip it off you completely.

Arthur pants against you as he takes you in, shielded from his eyes only by a gauzy chemise. Your hands, floating to his pectorals, slowly trace downward, over the muscle of his belly before your fingers land on the buttons of his trousers, his cock pulsing beneath the denim.

He gathers your chemise upward from the waist, pulling it up and over your drawers, and he quickly pushes them downward to pool around your ankles, leaving you completely bare beneath your belly.

You blink up at him, as he returns to kneading your ass with one hand. He breathes heavily out of his nose as his other hand grasps your waist roughly.

"On your knees, little darlin'." Arthur rumbles, pleased when you nod and start to sink to your knees. For the first time tonight, the hint of a smile crosses his face as he quickly reaches toward the buttons of his trousers.

[omegadeanlovesalphacas]

Miniprompt: Cas does that thing where the partner stands behind their partner and gently lifts their pregnant belly to give them some relief from the weight of it for a moment.

That's very sweet!

[timelessmulder]

miniprompt: the lost light crew goes to the space carnival. what disasters occur?

The fact there hadn’t been a rule about Brainstorm being allowed to wander a carnival was a little astounding, but in the long term it did not seem to matter much.

As the crew explored, each in their holomatter avatars, Rodimus spotted Brainstorm at a shooting game, flanked by both Percy and Nautica. The two were looking over his shoulder, as he fiddled with the cheap plastic gun before pressing it into Percy’s hands. The man, whatever species of alien he was, stared at the group and Rodimus thought, for just a moment, that maybe. Just maybe. He should intervene. But he was just so curious.

Percy, ex-sniper of the Wreckers, lifted the gun. Adjusted for the fact he wasn’t holding a rifle. Fired. And missed.

There was a distinct shout of “This is rigged!” from Nautica, and the guy behind the booth just shrugged.

“Maybe your friend isn’t that great a shot,” he shot back.

“He’s a sniper!” Nautica said. That was Rodimus’ cue.

He pushed towards them, placing a hand on both Nautica and Brainstorm’s shoulders.

“Guys, I really don’t want to get banned from another carnival.”

[whetstonefires]

do you have any fics involving tim drake in the works? also, what type of miniprompts would you like to recieve (ex: one word, sentence, premise outline, dialogue snippet,etc.)?

*dying moose sound* Okay so here’s the thing. I keep writing stuff about Tim and then being profoundly dissatisfied with it. Perfect becomes the enemy of good!

Tim’s character core kept getting revised as he aged; he was often being written simultaneously by three different writers who weren’t always checking each other’s work, they made him blatantly a neglect victim and accurately portrayed many of the results in his behavior, and then consistently denied that this was a thing. And in his last few years as Robin they took him straight up off the rails, so I have a very hard time feeling like any characterization of him really gets him. There’s always something missing.

So, yes, and yet. So little makes it to completion.Having very little experience writing to prompts, though I’ve always thought it looked fun, I can only say that a premise outline that doesn’t leave me something to solve is very unlikely to work for me. Like, if you give me a premise and I have to figure out how even, I could work with that, but if it’s just filling in the actual words part of a developed concept, nah. I can’t even do that when I came up with the idea.

So basically idk, try me. ;]

[misssophiachase]

VALENTINE'S DAY MINIPROMPT!!! Box of Enchanted Chocolates gone wrong (Canon-ish?? Harry potter au?? the possibilities are endless!!)

Soooo late, sorry Angie. This kind of stumped me (in a good way, I love thought provoking prompts) but hope this kind of lives up to your expectations even if it did go a little differently.

Hot Chocolate

“I believe in miracles, you sexy thing..”

Klaus was the King of this town, undeterred by anyone beneath his station. It wasn’t his responsibility to pretend he cared for them and as Valentine’s Day approached he knew this year would be no different.

Of course his sister Rebekah would try to set him up with the latest and attractive arrival in town. Kol would suggest some fun picking up lonely hearts in Jackson Square after their dates abandoned them unceremoniously and Elijah would retreat into his office but not before scoffing about the whole ‘Hallmark Holiday’ spectacle as he liked to call it. 

Klaus preferred to spend his Valentine’s Day alone, walking through the French Quarter and admiring his handy work. Sad, yes, but all he cared about was total domination of New Orleans and nothing would stand in his way. 

He found himself walking along Royal Street, stopping momentarily to look into the window of the small French bistro he frequented. She sat there alone, her golden waves fanning her face, her tantalising, red lipstick and the black dress seemingly painted onto her body, it was that fitted. He faltered. Klaus liked to pretend he didn’t have needs but seeing her sitting there so perfectly was causing more than a few feelings to stir below. 

He debated about stopping, Klaus didn’t like weaknesses and this woman in the window was a distraction of the highest order. But he stilled, desperate to see what she’d do next. She sighed and for some reason he felt something entirely foreign. Empathy. If he could get his hands on the stupid imbecile who stood her up on Valentine’s Day, Klaus was fairly certain he’d be dust by now. 

He moved inside without much cohesive thought, bypassing the waiter and finding his way to her table, she looked upwards her blue eyes glancing at him wearingly. “I said the cheque can wait.”

“You think I’m a waiter,” he expressed. “Ouch, love.”

“Well if the suit fits,” she scoffed, gesturing to his ensemble. That was the last time he wore that particular black and white combination. “Who are you?” He was taken back, mainly because everyone knew who Klaus Mikaelson was, obviously she was new to town. 

“The person saving you from eating alone.”

“Does that line really work?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” Her newbie status, not to mention her brazen nature, was confirmed then and there. 

“Let me guess, stood up?” She glared at him, her eyes narrowing in his direction. 

“Says the guy turning up at my dinner table unannounced, talk about preying on vulnerable females on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not preying on anyone,” Klaus baulked. He didn’t care for love or people in general and apparently the first time he decided to intervene he was the subject of a lecture. 

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.” 

“What every girl wants to hear, especially on Valentine’s Day.” She drawled, crossing her legs and leaning in closer, her perfume infiltrating his nostrils. “I’m going to need some tequila if I have to deal with my supposed date and your interruption.”

Klaus didn’t speak, mainly because his throat was becoming increasingly dry from her close proximity, so he gestured to the waiter who was carrying something over. 

“I have a delivery from a Mister…” the blonde didn’t wait just snatched the box of heart shaped chocolates from his grasp before shooing him away after demanding an unending supply of tequila to their table.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “Apparently chocolates are supposed to make up for being a no show? Seriously. What does he think, I’m five years-old?” 

“Well, if I can offer my thoughts on the matter…”

“No thoughts, in fact no speaking. You are my drinking partner, nothing else,” she reprimanded him, grabbing the shot glasses from the tray and downing the first in one go. Klaus didn’t feel the need to argue with a woman scorned so took the glass offered and unwittingly joined the pity party.

Twelve hours later 

Klaus awoke slowly, his eyes adjusting to the light and attempting to try to block it out by turning over. He felt a tight tug on his wrists and ankles in the process. Further inspection revealed he was tied to the bed, the enticing blonde straddling him possessively as she placed kisses along the length of his bare chest. 

“Enchanted chocolates, really?” He groaned, trying to ignore just how good she felt grinding against his arousal in nothing but brief, black lingerie. 

“You said you wanted to try something new,” she teased, her tongue now coming to life and flicking over his left nipple slowly. “And after that performance, I think it was definitely worth it.”

“You realise if this town knew I was chained up to your bed and at your mercy I might lose my royal credibility?” 

“Especially if these photos get out,” she chuckled, pulling her polaroid camera from the bedside table and taking another picture. 

“Are you blackmailing me, love?” 

“I’m thinking about it,” she smiled deviously, her attention now back on him, feathering kisses along his collarbone and causing a shiver to take over his body. 

“Any chance we could just be an actual couple without the secrecy,” he murmured, trying to ignore just how good her mouth felt against his skin. 

“Where would the fun in that be?” She mumbled against his skin as she travelled north and captured his crimson lips with hers. Their tongues tousled, Klaus ready for round seven or whatever it was given he’d lost count but reluctantly puling away.

“I love you.” She was shocked, extracting herself from his embrace immediately. He was worried he’d scared her away. 

“No, you don’t,” she mumbled, standing up and beginning to pace the room furiously. “We’re having fun, that’s all.”

“Maybe you are but I fell in love with you the first time we met,” he replied sincerely, briefly wondering just how pathetic his confession would look tied up to her bed.  

“And you took this long to tell me,” she cried, finally stopping to throw a barrage of cushions at him. 

“Now, I know why,” he groaned from beneath the cushions. “Last time I checked you wanted to keep things casual.”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted,” she shot back, pulling off the cushions one by one.

“All I want is you to be my Queen forever.”

“Are you proposing?” She squealed excitedly. Klaus smiled, glad they were finally on the same page.

“In my current state,” he growled, gesturing to his position. “Hell no. If my siblings got wind of this they’d never let me forget it, not to mention the whole city.”

“Lucky I love you then,” she smirked, untying him slowly. By all reports Klaus Mikaelson proposed over a candlelight dinner at the Four Seasons Rooftop Bar at sunset. In actual fact they ravaged each other senseless before he placed the ring on her finger lying content and naked in each other’s arms. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Miniprompt Jiang Chang is romantically successful with women who are not Wen Qing.

can be read as a continuation to this minifill

“I just want to be clear about expectations,” Jiang Cheng said, and the female cultivator – Lu Xue – nodded. She was still smiling. “Your expectations, to be clear. I don’t want you to enter into this with any sort of illusions or anything.”

“Of course not,” she said agreeably.

“I’m not actually looking to marry,” Jiang Cheng stressed. “Not now, anyway, and maybe not ever. Even if I did, there is zero guarantee that if I did marry, it would be with you.”

“Yes, you made that clear.”

“I’m not looking for anything exclusive, either. I’m looking to have as many children as possible. There will be other women.”

“You said, yes.”

“There’s no way for me to say right now that it would be your child that inherits the Lotus Pier, either. So you should go in assuming it won’t be, because if I see the slightest hint of intrigue, it’ll disqualify both you and them immediately.”

“I understand. A reasonable policy.”

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t even think it’s possible for me to fall in love, so definitely don’t expect that.”

“So noted.”

Exasperated, Jiang Cheng scowled and said, “Then what are you getting out of this?”

“Respect,” Lu Xue said promptly, and he blinked at her. “A child of my own, with an honorable surname and a guarantee of a good life – a father who will recognize them as his own and care for them, love them regardless of merit or achievement. Freedom to do as I wish, without restriction – you said that I could keep night-hunting afterwards, if that was what I wanted…?”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng said, aghast at the mere thought. He remembered very well how much his mother had chafed at the restriction on married women; he’d always thought that his home life growing up would have been infinitely easier if only she’d been allowed to continue doing that, rather than taking out her frustrations on all the disciplines instead. “I would never impose such a limitation on you.”

“And you wouldn’t be upset if I eventually fell in love with someone else, either?”

“Of course not. That would be rather hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?”

“But if I wanted to stop night-hunting, I’d have a place at the Lotus Pier?”

“For as long as you live,” Jiang Cheng said seriously. “Even if you never do end up conceiving. I would never enter into this type of agreement lightly.”

Lu Xue spread her hands out as if to say You see?

“It helps that you’re honest and upfront about it,” she added, even when he scowled at her as if to respond that’s it?! “Most men will promise the moon if it gets them what they want.”

Jiang Cheng supposed he understood that much, at least. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate being deceived.

“So, shall we go to bed now, or would you prefer to have dinner first?”

“…dinner,” Jiang Cheng squeaked. Lu Xue was the fourth young lady Nie Huaisang had (successfully) arranged for him to meet, and he was starting to think he’d severely misjudged how bold most female cultivators were. “Dinner, a medical check up –” Nie Huaisang had insisted, lest someone try to plant a cuckoo on him, even though there were bloodline-tied treasures a-plenty to test it with after the child was born. “ – and then we can proceed. If that works…?”