mini fic thing

Ok ok so I feel like its more commonly assumed that Phichit was probably pining for Yuuri for a while first before he had to be blatantly obvious that he had a big ole crush on Yuuri, but what if it was the other way around? Imagine if Phichit was the first person Yuuri found that he was really attracted to, and when he realized that, it hit him like a ton of bricks. 

He would try to play it cool and act normal, but start freaking out more than usual. Phichit is a naturally touchy person, even in the most platonic ways, but now every time he’s touched Yuuri jumps like he’s received an electric shock. When they’d have movie nights, they used to share a blanket and when Phichit offers, Yuuri scoots his ass as far away as he can on the couch. 

And Phichit’s like “What the hell man you’ve been acting weird all week…Yuuri did I do something wrong?”

“Nonono it’s not you I promise.”

“Well then what is it? And don’t say nothing because I can tell when something is bugging you.”

Yuuri clutches his elbows and doesn’t meet Phichit’s eyes.



“Yuuri, don’t make me make you tell me,” he says with a devilish smirk. Phichit crawls towards Yuuri and pounces on him, tickling his sides. They crash to the ground with Yuuri laughing and gasping for air. 

They end up with Phichit sitting on top of Yuuri and pinning him to the floor. He bends down to whisper in Yuuri’s ear. “I’ll stop when you tell mee~.” Before he can lean back, Yuuri turns his head and captures Phichit’s lips in a quick kiss. 

Yuuri slaps a hand over his mouth as his face reddens. “I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-” He covers his entire face with both arms.

He feels Phichit’s fingers gently trying to peel his arms apart. “Yuuri,” he says softly, “Yuuri please come out..” He mumbles out a no, that he’s staying like this for forever, before feeling the soft press of lips to the skin of his forearm.

He peeks through the crack of his arms to find the worried gaze of Phichit above him, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. “Is this why you were acting odd? You… like me?” Yuuri manages a little nod. 

“Well, that kiss was a little sloppy. If you come out of there, we can try again, if you want.”

Yuuri slowly lets his arms fall to the side and pushes himself up on his elbows so his nose is a few inches from Phichit’s. “You… aren’t mad?”

Phichit lets out a breathy chuckle. “Oh Yuuri, why would I be mad? Especially when you look so cute like this?”

Yuuri felt his cheeks flush again, and leaned forward to kiss Phichit once more.


THE 100 HP AU: Bits and bobs.


The Blakes are both nerds, Lincoln is too pure, Monty has to deal with Octavia & Lincoln’s awkwardness, Raven goes to the infirmary a little too often, Clarke & Lexa are gross in every universes, and the Gryffindor’s 7th year class might be the worst that Hogwarts has ever seen.

Other students existing in this AU: Maya, Murphy, Emori. Edit: cute tiny second year Aden.

>> More of this AU <<

(IMPORTANT: I can’t please everyone with the sorting of their houses, this isn’t open for debate anymore. Sorry if you don’t like it. ♥)


Can you imagine a young Sherlock Holmes running around with an eye patch and a toy sword and he keeps jumping on the sofa (his pirate ship) and trying to tackle Mycroft (his hostage from an enemy ship) and while his parents think it’s cute that he’s having fun his energy levels are getting problematic so they buy him books on pirates where he learns about telescopes and so his parents buy him one (if he promises to behave) and he eventually starts to use it to be observant and look closely at things. He builds up a catalogue in his head of little things he notices and his pirate books become more history and science and then computing and as he reaches late teens he starts reading criminal psychology and solving cases and even though he’s an adult he still has his first little telescope in a neat wooden box somewhere In his old room in his parents house.

send me a ship and one of these and i'll write a mini fic
  1. things you said at 1 am
  2. things you said through your teeth
  3. things you said too quietly
  4. things you said over the phone
  5. things you didn’t say at all
  6. things you said under the stars and in the grass
  7. things you said while we were driving
  8. things you said when you were crying
  9. things you said when i was crying
  10. things you said that made me feel like shit
  11. things you said when you were drunk
  12. things you said when you thought i was asleep
  13. things you said at the kitchen table
  14. things you said after you kissed me
  15. things you said with too many miles between us
  16. things you said with no space between us
  17. things you said that i wish you hadnt
  18. things you said when you were scared
  19. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were
  20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear
  21. things you said when we were on top of the world
  22. things you said after it was over
  23. things you said [make your own]

inspired by this

Dhurke Sahdmadhi rushing into that burning building, trying to save someone, ANYONE.  But everything is collapsing and it’s so hot and there’s fire and smoke, so much smoke.  It gets into his eyes, his lungs; he can’t breath, he can’t see-

But then he hears the crying, the ear-piercing screaming of a baby, alone and terrified.

And he runs towards it, never mind his own danger or discomfort, and finds the single little bundle, dropped on the floor but swaddled so well he’s unharmed.  There’s rubble and burning wood next to the child, and from under the ruins he sees a hand, still and lifeless.

The baby is light in his arms but it still feels so heavy as he runs from that building that so quickly became a grave.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he says, holding the child close to his chest, rocking him gently like he knows always works for Nahyuta.  But the child still cries, and cries, and cries, like he knows he’s lost something he can never get back.  

He tries to find the baby’s mother, but there’s nothing, no information to go on, just Dhurke’s word.  “The baby’s name is Apollo Justice; I don’t know his father’s name he never told me- no, he didn’t live here he was a tourist.  No, I don’t know where he came from!  Everything burnt, everything is gone… there’s nothing else I can tell you!  Please, just help me find his mother, whoever she is!”

Nobody comes forward.

Dhurke won’t submit this child to an orphanage; there’s too many other little boys and girls who need homes, he can’t add to that number.  Without Amara, sweet lovely Amara, he doesn’t know how he’ll do it.  But he will, he decides, he will.

Gazing at the children, cozy inside of a crib made for one but now housing two, he thinks it’s as if they were always meant to be brothers.  He gathers them up in his arms, as always realizing how young and fragile they really are, how he is their sole protector, their barrier between this world and the Twilight Realm.  They slumber peacefully against him, oblivious of this, of the outside world, of the chaos and the evil and the deception that has so tired Dhurke now for weeks.  But they, in their innocence, are so young and do not know the difference between a palace and a hut, between the city and the mountains, between royalty and poverty.  It’s better that way, Dhurke decides.

“They’ve taken Amara away from me,” he says, “But I will not let them take you.”  Nahyuta suckles on his thumb.  Apollo yawns.  Dhurke kisses them each on the forehead.  “My sons.”

Ignis is a strong man. An intelligent man; the kind that sees an outcome miles ahead and prepares for the worst while ardently hoping for the best. The pride he takes in his physical prowess and skill with a weapon is earned, and to his credit he fears very little in this life.

But whenever Noctis smiles at him in that way that he does, all boyish charm and seduction, he suddenly understands weakness with agonizing clarity. 

Nessian - Depressed!Cassian

Here is part 2 of my Depressed!Cassian headcanon mini-fic thing.

Part 1 here!

[Depressed!Cassian - Part 2/3]

The following evening, Nesta banged once on Cassian’s door before letting herself in.

“Nesta?” Cassian said, raising an eyebrow. He was still lying in bed. But he looked as though he’d at least bathed, as if he’d finally eaten something, too. He was sprawled atop the bed sheets on his stomach, wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting trousers.

Nesta didn’t dare look at the bandages on his wings. Instead she allowed him to see her roll her eyes over his generous, muscular backside. Then she prowled to him, as if she’d seen nothing of interest.

“I require assistance, and you’re the only one in the House of Wind readily available,” she said. Nesta sat on the end of his bed, facing away from him and swept the hair off the back of her neck. “My necklace has become tangled in my hair.”

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Nezumi’s flipping shit because his costar is out sick and so is their understudy, which means that the premiere of Othello is going to get cancelled. Shion feels really bad because he knows how hard Nezumi’s worked for this, so he secretly heads to the theater house and begs for the part so that Nezumi can perform.

What he doesn’t realize is that the character is a female, and so he, along with Nezumi, has to crossdress. He decides to be less conspicuous by covering his scar and placing a long blonde wig atop his head. By the time he’s finished, he can no long recognize himself. 

When Nezumi hears the news that they found an actor for Emilia, he rushes straight to the play house. The manager introduces him to Shion, and he nods, seemingly unaware of the fact that this woman is, indeed, Shion, and promptly heads out to perform the play, with only minor stumbles from Emilia. 

Afterwords, Shion attempts to escape while still in costume, but only makes it through the backdoor before someone pushes him against a wall. When he looks up, he notices the person holding him is Nezumi. Initially, he was scared, but within seconds he felt betrayal biting at him. He felt hurt that Nezumi made all these aggressive passes at other women, but he hadn’t an idea why. He clenched his eyes shut and he felt a thumb brush roughly against his cheek. 

“You didn’t think you could get away with this without me knowing, right?” Nezumi said, holding a concealer stain thumb up to Shion’s face, “You make a very beautiful woman, though, Shion. Manager wants to hire you as a permanent member of the playhouse, you should feel lucky.”

As they walked back, Shion felt a warmth spread through him and he made an effort to walk closer to Nezumi. Before he could explain his reasoning, Nezumi murmured, 

“Thank you for working so hard to make this happen for me”. 

Ficlet Masterlist For Stucky!

A/N: A masterlist for the little ficlets I’ve done and that are only on Tumblr. For longer Stucky fics that are posted on AO3, go on over to my full masterlist.

crunchie-morris  asked:

Omg, could you do Jack and Crutchie with E for the mini-fic thing?

Crutchie pulled himself to his feet, his face flaming in shame. He ducked his head at the lancing chuckles. Once he had the crutch re-situated, Crutchie continued past the other boys. It didn’t bother him. It didn’t. It couldn’t. Crutchie couldn’t afford to be hurt by every gang of boys whose eyes lit up at the prospect of picking on the small crip by the side of the road. Blinking back bitter tears, Crutchie shook his head. He was nearly out of earshot of the taunts and crude names, but that didn’t keep them from whirling around his mind, as loud and real as if he were surrounded by a crowd of those boys. “It don’t matter. It don’t matter,” Crutchie growled. Because it didn’t. He knew it didn’t.

Only, it sure felt like it did.

Crutchie was used to being pushed around, teased, ridiculed, even beat. He had to be. And, usually, Crutchie would simply shove the cruel words away and trod forward. He could shake the insults off like the best of them, was impervious to their sharp pinpricks. At least, Crutchie liked to pretend he was. He understood all too well the weight of words, but today… 

Today, Crutchie just couldn’t. He had woken up an hour before dawn with flames of pain flickering up and down his leg. It had taken over forty-five minutes of desperate rubbing and growling before the pain had reduced to a manageable level. And then Crutchie had needed Jack to help him down the fire escape even more than usual, which only increased the embarrassment. Selling had been especially slow and Crutchie wasn’t fool enough to try and convince himself that he would magically manage to sell his remaining papes. No, he had lost money. Too much money. And now some gang of faceless, nameless boys had shoved him to the ground, chortled when the crutch had been yanked from his grasp. It was too much for Crutchie to handle on an already crappy day.

The sun was already mostly down by the time Crutchie stumbled up to the Lodging House. He hesitated outside the door. Crutchie wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go in there, wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to the other boys who would be laughing and cheerful and it just wasn’t fair. Nothing worked out for Crutchie and today, he just couldn’t bear facing that harsh reality.

Instead, Crutchie sat outside the Lodging House, curling up against the corner. He could hear the boys inside, muted shouts of glee and indignation and Crutchie just couldn’t take it. Crutchie rubbed brusquely at his cheeks, annoyed that there were streaks of moisture there. 

“–no, I’ll just be a moment,” a familiar voice sounded out as the Lodging House door was opened. Crutchie froze. Maybe he wouldn’t–

“Crutch? What are you doing over there?”

So much for that. “Nothing,” Crutchie muttered, turning his face away from Jack. The older boy would, undoubtedly, notice the tears that had tracked through the grime.

For a moment, Crutchie thought that Jack had taken his words at face value, but a body squishing its way into the corner beside him proved those hopes unfulfilled. “You okay?”



“Really, Jack,” Crutchie promised, uncomfortable in the quietude that stretched between the friends. He turned, nodding earnestly, before remembering how he must look: red-rimmed eyes, tears, runny nose. Quickly, Crutchie turned away, but the damage was already done.

“Okay, so you ain’t fine. What’s wrong?”

“It’s really nothing.” Because it was. Nothing, that is. Crutchie knew he was probably over-reacting and this shouldn’t be bothering him, but he just couldn’t stop. 

Jack leaned back against the wall, blowing the air out of his nose loudly. He seemed deep in thought and just when Crutchie knew Jack would begin to pry, the older boy shot up. “Stay here,” he ordered, before dashing back into the Lodging House.

Crutchie was sorely tempted to get up and go somewhere else, anywhere else. Except, he had nowhere that he could go. He was alone; all he had was Jack, the Lodging House. So, Crutchie stayed. 

It wasn’t long before Jack returned, edging his way back into the corner. “Look what I got,” Jack proclaimed, showing a small bottle of Coca Cola. “This guy I sold a pape to had an extra, I guess, and he gave it to me. He also paid a nickel for his pape, some real upper-cruster.”

Crutchie smiled. “That’s great, Jack. I heard they was real good.” The new soda was becoming popular among the wealthier New Yorkers, but Crutchie wasn’t willing to spend a whole nickel on a small drink that would be gone so quickly. It wasn’t a worthwhile investment for what little money he had.

“Yeah, me, too,” Jack agreed, grinning at the glass bottle. “So, you’se gonna have to tell me if all them rich folk is right,” Jack continued, pushing the bottle into Crutchie’s hands. 

“No, Jack,” Crutchie quickly argued, pushing the soda back. “I couldn’t. It’s yours. And it’s so expensive.”

“I got it for free. And you look like you need it more than me. Rough days do that to ya,” Jack said knowingly. 

Crutchie shook his head once more. “Jack, I really couldn’t.”

“Fine. You have a sip, I have a sip. We share, yeah?”

Crutchie watched Jack, trying to ascertain whether Jack would back down from this. The older boy’s eyes shown with fervor and Crutchie knew that he had made his mind up on this. With a hesitant nod, Crutchie agreed. “Okay. Okay, Jack, but you get the first sip.”

“Okay.” Jack opened the bottle with trepidation, before slowly tilting the bottle and sipping at the soda. His eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s good,” he proclaimed, holding the glass bottle away to examine its contents. “That’s really good.”

“You finish it, then,” Crutchie suggested. 

“No, Crutch. We’re sharing.” Jack passed the bottle over and Crutchie took a careful sip, not wanting to drink all of Jack’s soda. 

It was better than anything Crutchie had ever drunk before. He wanted to tilt his head back and gulp the entire bottle down, but it was Jack’s. With a grin, Crutchie handed it back. “You’re right, Jack. That is good.”

Jack nodded his agreement, sipping once more, before passing it back. The two friends passed the bottle back and forth until the last drop of soda was gone. Crutchie smiled happily, contentedly, his hands splayed comfortably on his stomach. “You good?” Jack asked.

Crutchie could only smile. Maybe he couldn’t control the pain in his leg or the customers clamoring for a paper or the cruel boys that prowled the streets. But he did have a great friend, and maybe that made it all okay, in the end. Maybe that was all that mattered.

“Yeah, Jack, I’m good.”

Okay, that was over 1,000 words and I’m not sure that constituted a mini-fic and it also started to feel like a Coca-Cola commercial at the end (we only needed a polar bear to complete it), but I hope it turned out okay!

au where namjoon is a high school student who rides the subway train every morning and one day when he’s picking up his book/pen/notes from where it fell out of his backpack he spots a pair of red converse amongst the crowd of boring shoes and his eyes skim up to the lovely pale ankles before his view is obscured by the rest of the crowd. so namjoon quickly stands on tippy toes to spot his mystery girl but she’s so short he can’t see but the top of her head but that’s okay because he’s already halfway in love so he waits impatiently until the next stop and when majority of the passengers get off the train he makes his move only to realize that his mystery girl is actually a mystery boy, looking like he’s just about ready to punch namjoon’s nose off for staring too long. but namjoon doesn’t mind the plot twist, because this tiny grumpy boy with the pair of red converse and lovely pale ankles is actually really cute. so he tells the boy just that, and that’s how namjoon first suffers the wrath of min yoongi.

(it’s also the last time namjoon bothers looking at anyone else wearing a pair of red converse, because really, min yoongi has the best ankles. maybe the best everything too. but that’s only because namjoon thinks his boyfriend is beyond perfection.)

yo is it just me or does anyone else think Iris X mon el would make a great ship 👀

anonymous asked:

"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!” Marinette shouts exasperatedly. 

She’d been having a perfectly normal day; woke up, went to work, and then came back to her apartment. Even managing to run into Alya and have a small chat, who’d been considerably busy so it was quite the miracle. 

Though she wasn’t expecting her husband to come home with a small ginger kitten in his arms. 

Admittedly, it was cute. But they couldn’t possibly be keeping a pet, they were far too busy and it was so much work. Aren’t kittens babies? Would that mean it had to be constantly fed? How old was this thing? Where did he find it?

“Adrien, you know we can’t keep a cat- let alone a kitten?” she emphasizes. 

Her husband stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, holding the small kitten at the sides to show it to her better.

“But honeey, look, she has your eyes!” he whines, the little kitten opening her bluebell eyes in the exact same moment to let out a small mewl. 

Marinette lets out a defeated sigh, “Fine. We can keep the cat.” she says with an eye roll, avoiding the look of her husband. 

She couldn’t stay bitter for much longer, a smile spread across her features once she peaked back.

“You’re the best!” he exclaims before planting a kiss on her cheek.

Marinette snorts at him, “I know. But I’m not changing the litterbox.” she deadpanned. 

Thanks, anon! Send me a sentence and I’ll write a mini-fic!  

@sleepymccoy I told you I was gonna make a billion more!   ヾ(^▽^)ノ  For Joanna Draws:

“Good job Joanna!”

“Its fixed! Yay!”

“This is Ms. Uhura. She is very pretty and very smart and very nice. She helps me talk to my Daddy when he is on his ship the Enterprise where he works. She is very cool and knows how to fix things She tawt me how to fix my tablet so I can draw. One day when I work on the Enterprise I hope to help her fix things so she can comunicate with people in space.”

On the Rocks - Solangelo

This fic is for carpedm87 who requested Solangelo, #11 for a mini fic prompt thing: Things you said when you were drunk. Again, I failed at mini. This fic is 1900 words.

On the Rocks - Rated T (a couple of swear words) - Or read it on the Ao3

“Oh shit. I think this was a bad idea,” I tell my reflection in the dingy pub restroom mirror. My face stares back at me, blanched, my eyes rimmed red.

I stagger back to the booth where Nico waits. He’d ordered another round of whiskey shots, and taps his fingers, smirking at me as I approach. His eyes dance, a challenge playing in them, reflecting the flame from the small tabletop oil lamp.

I take my seat across from him, unable to refuse. Seeing fire in Nico’s eyes does things to me, things that I’m not sure he realizes we’ve been dancing around for years. I pick up my new shot and wait for him to pick his up, bolstered by the fire in my blood from the previous three rounds to finally bring it up in conversation.

“You sure you can handle another one, Solace?”

I bat my eyelashes at him. “If I can’t, I’ll be at your mercy, Angel.” Then I wink and swallow the shot, wincing as it goes down. When I look at him again, he’s still holding his drink, his cheeks flushed. “What?” I ask.

He shakes his head as if just realizing he hasn’t moved and downs his shot. He bangs the empty glass on the table and stares at me, his eyes pulling my focus like homing beacons in the dark.

I can’t help myself; our hands lie on the tabletop only inches apart, both of us hunched forward, elbows supporting our arms. I turn my hand on its side and brush his knuckles with mine, then settle my hand on top of his, my thumb running back and forth over his skin.

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Reylo (Not So) Mini Fic Rec Thing

Guys, oh my god. This has been such a great few days for Reylo fic, especially of the smut and AU variety! Goddamn. Talented authors are turning out amazing work left and right. What a time to be alive! Here are a bunch of my favorite new ones, before I forget… You didn’t have anything to do today (or ever) right?

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