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luveline · 5 months

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omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox

what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭

Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask.

Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back.

“Hotch?”

“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately.

“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”

You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now.

“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.”

He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required.

“I’ll get it for you,” he promises.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”

He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”

“I can’t eat.”

“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”

You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say.

“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.”

You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake.

You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved.

You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all.

Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?”

“I’m being quick!”

“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?”

“Yeah, dad.”

“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?”

“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”

“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?”

“Yes. Please. Hug?”

They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi baby. You hungry?”

“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.”

You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder.

“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur.

“Pretty please.”

“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.”

“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, babe.”

Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?”

“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.”

You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture.

“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.

“I can go get dad.”

“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.”

Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin.

“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?”

“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.”

To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want.

Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?”

You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.”

“I’m fine. My hands are full.”

“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.”

He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”

“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.”

Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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turcott3 · 8 months

Text

safety net

jack hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc

positions masterlist!

~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~

you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.

“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.

“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.

“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.

“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.

“i’ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.

“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.

“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.

“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”

“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.

“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.

“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”

“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.

“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.

“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.

“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.

“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.

“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.

“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.

“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.

“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.

“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.

“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”

“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.

“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”

“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.

“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.

“is he older or younger?”

“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.

“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.

“can i get your number?” he asks.

“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.

“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.

“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”

“nice to meet you.” you say.

“nice to meet you too.” he replies.

“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.

“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.

“johnny getting some ladies?”

“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.

“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.

“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.

“let me walk you?” jack asks.

“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.

“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.

“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”

“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.

“jack you don’t have to.”

“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.

“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.

“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.

“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.

“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.

dawson: glad you made it back safe!

y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack

dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n

y/n: you too, see you again soon?

dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me

y/n: doubt it

dawson: only bc ill bring jack

y/n: bitch

dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n

y/n: goodnight daws😭

you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.

“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.

“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.

“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”

“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.

“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.

“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.

“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.

“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.

“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.

“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.

“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.

once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.

“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.

“hello?” you speak when he picks up.

“hey y/n, what’s up?”

“can you come over, i need advice.”

“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”

“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.

“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.

“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“jack is what’s up.”

“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.

“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.

“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.

“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”

“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”

“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”

“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.

“how am i supposed to be calm?”

“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.

“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.

“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.

“perfect.” you laugh.

“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.

jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?

y/n: yes for sure!

jack: ok awesome, see you then

y/n: *loved a message*

you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.

it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.

“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.

“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”

“well you never know.”

“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”

“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”

“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”

“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.

“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.

“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.

“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”

“whatever mercer.”

“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.

“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”

“yeah absolutely!”

“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.

“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”

“perfect.” you smile to yourself.

“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.

2 months later

“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.

“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.

“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.

“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.

“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.

“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”

“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”

“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”

“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”

“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”

“you’re lying but go on.”

“lying about what?”

“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.

“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”

“i think you love him.” he laughs.

“you’re crazy.” you scoff.

“did you listen to anything you just said?”

“what part?”

“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”

“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”

“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”

“well n-“

“THEN GO GET HIM.”

“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”

“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”

“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”

“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.

“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.

“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”

“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.

“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.

“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.

“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.

“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.

“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.

“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.

“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #nhl #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine #dawson mercer #luke hughes #john marino #nj devils #turcs’ talk #turcs <3

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

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I know you asked for something with Ford and i’ll request something for him once i brainstorm it up i promise T-T

BUT with the Sub masochist Bill, i can totally see where it’d go. I feel like Bill would be the type of person to never even think about touching himself, because the whole ‘trying to end the world thing’, and he was too busy with all of that and experimenting with pain in the human body it never even occurred to him that pleasure would be as awesome as it was till the [insert reader] showed him

Like literally after he figures it out he prolly wouldn’t even wanna stop. Man could go hours overstimulated and sex crazy because after a while of getting overstimmed it hurts insanely bad, but that’s lowkey more of a reason for him to keep going.

And whenever you’d tell him no to fucking or you’d be busy or something, it’d drive him literally nuts because ‘how dare you reject HIM.’ And he’d think it would just be casual questions of ‘Sooo you wanna have sex now, toots?’ but it’d get the point where he’d just be BEGGING you to touch him.

Speaking of touching himself, like i’d said before, he never really had till his first time with you, and whenever you’d reject his advances he just couldn’t help but touch himself while throwing a little hissy fit about the whole thing. You’d once walked in on him in one of these moments, on the bed, dick in hand while ruthlessly beating himself off. Sometimes he’d even slap himself and things of the sort and imagine it was you doing it and that usually through him over the edge.

ALSO FLUFF 🤩 So i don’t imagine him to be the most open about cuddling or anything but when he’s in the mood he’d get upset when you wouldn’t. Sometimes he just forgets you can’t read his mind. But honestly he seems clingy in the type of way that when he’s not horny out of his demonic mind, that he’d learn to just enjoy your general presence. Even when you guys aren’t having playful banter, he would bask in the silence knowing you’re there with him by his side. Don’t get me wrong, this man is a pest and would never admit any of this outloud, but he also feels as thought you know it so he doesn’t HAVE to tell you.

ONE MORE THING: Star gazing. now i really need you to here me out of this one.

So his dimension (or whatever it was) was destroyed, right? And even when he eventually came to earth, he must’ve been traveling in the stars for a while just tryna find a new home. So sometimes when he’s really feeling it, you guy’ll be on the roof to your place and he’d point out the general direction of where is dimension once was, or even go into detail about constellations he knows you don’t know about. Like i said this man is not a gooshy-ass person and can be a real dickhead to you more or less all the time, but i feel like there would definitely be those insanely rare moments where you could look at him and see a bit of human in that demonic entity (BYW ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM SO I MIGHTVE FORGOTTEN IMPORTANT LORE SO LEAVE ME ALONE 😭😭) Anywayss lemme think of some Ford shit to keep you sane pooks 😌🫡

-👻👽 Anon

I love asks like this because you guys literally do all my work for me. Much love Alien anon, much love. Also oh my god??? Everyone took my Bill fic and ran with it and I am LOVING IT, you people are so creative!

The fluff is actually really cute, by the way!! I don’t know how into cuddling Bill would be.. his human form is probably the most likely that situation would ever be. lol, imagine Bill experiencing the foreign need for human touch for the first time. i also like the point about him touching himself anyways-

#bill cipher x reader #dom reader #inbox open

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librarycards · 9 months

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hello! i apologize in advance this is probably something that you get asked a lot. but do you have any recs on literary magazines to submit to? im a trans poet, ive been writing for over a decade but never shared anything and ive been wanting to try to send my stuff to get it published somewhere. obv ive been google searching but theres so many big and small publications and i was wondering if you have ones you like especially and/or tips on how to choose a magazine/journal to submit to. thanks a lot! <3

no worries, thank you for reaching out!! i've been publishing for like 8 years + an editor for almost 4, so i always appreciate the opportunity to help people new to the world find ethical publications that will treat their work with the care it deserves.

first and foremost: there are going to be pubs out there that are awesome and i don't know about. you may be the one to discover them for yourself! one aid in finding the best mag for your work is the wonderful, writer-created chillsubs. it's a fantastic platform that keeps a huge list of mags and presses and their relevant stats, and lets you create an account and bookmark those you're interested in. everyone i know uses them, and it's very worth it given the sheer volume of mags out there.

i also have some recs of my own, ofc. i'm going to list them below. if they pay (which i prioritize) I'll mark them with a $. some are trans/queer focused and some aren't, but all are pubs i've either edited and/or published with and can confirm their ethics + respect for writers.

manywor(l)ds - my mag! i'm co-founder and eic. break genre _ shapeshift with us. ($)

Sinister Wisdom - old, well-regarded lesbian+ lit mag, now open to everyone who is/loves a dyke. I'm guest-editing an issue on Madness with them, now open for submissions!

fifth wheel press - run by a beloved friend and comrade of mine. i've published here. excellent transparency, care, great for first-timers. ($).

kith books - headed by trans literary icon kat blair. a mag/press/community centered around bodymind non-conformity and noncompliance.

Honey Literary - QTPOC-centered, unabashedly pop-culture + social justice oriented. the vibes are simply immaculate.

Whale Road Review - not queer/trans focused, more oriented toward....'grown up' poetry/prose/pedagogy papers. Katie Manning (eic) is a fucking gem.

Graphic Violence Lit - just had my first experience publishing with them, and their care + consideration for the whole writer is amazing. they publish boundary-pushing work.

beestung - one of the brainchildren of Sarah Clark. nb/gq/2s SFF. I just edited a few guest issues w them and have published with them. amazing work. ($)

A Velvet Giant - genrequeer work. the editors are experienced, enthusiastic, and amazing at promoting writers long after publication. it's a family! ($)

Ethel Zine + Press - handmade with love by Sara Lefsyk (as you can see, trans/nonbinary/2s sarahs dominate indie publishing, as well we should :3). Sara is a sensitive and care-full editor and bookmaker whose every publication is a work of art.

Protean - pro- as in proletariat. awesome left mag with a mix of politics and culture and everything in between. they take reprints! ($)

Mudroom - publish your work along with a picture of your mudroom/shoe rack. very responsive editors who will hype you tf up. ($)

The Institutionalized Review - for psych survivors. the editors concreteness of vision and dedication to their community know no bounds.

Just Femme + Dandy - queer and fashion-focused! led by the inimitable Addie Tsai. They pay *handsomely*. ($)

In addition, there are also some "big" mags I have had excellent experiences publishing with and wanted to shout out. These are harder for a beginner to break into, but worth keeping on your radar + have been fantastic to me as a writer.

Electric Lit

Split Lip Magazine

The Offing

Nat. Brut

Santa Fe Writers' Project

Bodega

New Orleans Review

Augur Magazine

I hope this is helpful to you + others! the literary world is ever-changing and this is just a snapshot. Hopefully you find some that you like!

#ask #anonymous #writing #literary magazines #lit mag #call for submissions

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artist-issues · 2 months

Note

Hi! First off, I want to say that I love how you analyze media and having really been enjoying reading all your posts :) I just wanted to ask—do you have tips for people who what to learn to think more critically about media and just storytelling in general? Like, are there questions that you usually ask yourself when looking at a character's journey or the messaging behind the movie? Just trying to learn how to better analyze the media I consume, as well as improve on pinpointing the specific reasons why I like the movies that I like, instead of just saying "Well, I liked it. It was great" and leaving it at that 🙈.

New favorite question!

I love that you want to know why you like something. I love it. I think so many people are ready to give a defense for why they dislike something, and the blood-sport of “picking it apart,” but then they don’t really know how to reverse the process and be like, “here’s why I liked this other thing,” or they can’t speak accurately and clearly about why they like something, which is a huge shame, and sort of raises other questions about critical thinking but you’re not doing that! So you’re already awesome!

I am not an expert. I could be 100% wrong about everything I do, and all the questions I ask. I only went to a normal amount of education for this. It does not mean I have all the insight and the good advice.

BUT you asked, and I love talking about it, so it’s going to be long, and here’s what I do:

Step 1. I Just Watch the Movie.

That’s it. Just take it in. No expectations. Do not try to figure out what’s wrong with it or what’s right with it. Don’t even assume there’s such a thing as “right” or “wrong” the first time you watch it. It is THE hardest thing to do, once you gain some “knowledge” of storytelling. But truthfully, if you go into a story with your eyes and ears open for flaws, or a checklist of “Right Things to Do,” then you’ve already lost any objectivity. You’ll be so busy going “good thing, bad thing,” that the movie will never be able to establish an “emotional train of thought,” with you. Because you’re already taking it piece by piece, like eating a burger one ingredient at a time, instead of taking a full bite. It’s meant to be one-successive-thought/feeling-on-top-of-another, but you’re picking it apart before it’s over.

Plus, you’re not letting the story do what it was meant to do—get under your mental guard. And that’s the whole point of stories. So in a way, if your Critical Analysis Cap is already conciously on, even the best movie in the world won’t come off as the best movie in the world. C.S. Lewis talks about this in one of his essays. I’ll try to simplify it:

You can’t decide if you like something or dislike something until after you’ve eaten it. You certainly can’t really experience “what ingredients it’s made of” before you’ve eaten it. You can make some observations about a food without ever putting it in your mouth and experiencing it—I can look at a brownie and go, “there’s chocolate in there.” I can cut into it and go, “oh, but it’s tough.” But I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of experiencing that brownie until I just shut up and put it in my mouth.

That is the hardest part and the part I suck at the very most. My suckiness at this part is why my friends hate watching movies with me. But on some level, you have to suspend your worldview, your opinions, and try to just listen.

It’s also why (this is just an aside) I struggle when people recommend a movie to me. Because they usually go, “what do you think of this movie?” And then I say, “I haven’t seen it.” And then they go, “oh you should watch it!” And I know for a fact that they’re going to ask me how it was, and my answer needs to be prepared—so then I’m already handicapped before I even try it. But it can’t be helped. And that’s just food for thought.

Step 2: “What Are They Trying to Tell Me?”

The only thing you need to think, when you go into analyzing a movie, before anything else, is, “They are trying to tell me something.”

That’s it. It’s just active listening, but in a movie. I think that’s like 90% of it. And so many people don’t know how to do that—in life, in conversation—let alone when they watch something. It’s the movie-watching equivalent of “stop thinking about what you’re going to say or how you’re going to respond to me, and just listen to what I’m saying.”

Remember, the whole storytelling team behind a movie or the writer of a novel sat down in front of a blank piece of paper. There was nothing there. They made several hundred thousand tiny and huge decisions to put something in front of you. Almost nothing you see in the story is there on accident. Because none of it would be there if they didn’t decide to transplant what they were thinking and feeling into you.

That’s all a movie is. That’s all a story is. It’s communication. It’s an essay. It’s a sermon. It’s a song. You can figure out what it means—but only if you start out by accepting, on good faith, that it means something.

I’m not saying every story of movie will have a well-thought-out meaning. I’m saying, you’re going into it as if it does. In good faith. And then the storytellers will either reward that good faith because they had something to say—or they’ll let you down. But you go in assuming they won’t let you down, that this is an agreed-upon conversation you two are having.

That takes a level of humility I don’t always have. Because if I know Christopher Nolan is directing a movie, at this point, it’s hard for me not to go into that movie with the story-version of this mindset: “well, I know he’ll have a lot of ‘big words’ to use, but nothing to actually say.” It’s hard to do.

But you have to do it, or else the risk of you projecting what you believe the movie is about onto it, or missing the meaning entirely, is astronomically high. You’ll watch a Disney Princess movie that’s total trash (I can’t stop coming for Wish) and you’ll see everything you’ve always wanted to see in it—because you’re projecting what you hope they’re saying onto the movie (when actually they were saying something very silly.) Or you’ll be like me watching The Dark Knight for the first time and trying desperately to wrestle my brain into “believe he’s trying to say something to you and not just snag your emotions on meaningless twists”-mode the whole time.

And the best way to figure out what they were trying to tell you is to start with where they succeeded in making you feel something. Wherever they succeeded, that’s where you’ll start looking for clues.

Step 3. What Did You Feel?

Sometimes you have to skip this step because you couldn’t get Step 1 right. You couldn’t just watch the movie, you were “out of the movie,” the whole time you were watching it. Sometimes that’s not your fault—sometimes a movie is so bad or so disingenuous that you can’t do Step 1, and you have to settle not for “What Did You Feel?” (Because you felt nothing) but “What Did They Want Me To Feel?”

…But if you were able to just watch it and it made you feel something, then this step is about analyzing that.

I recommend starting with a movie you watched when you were a kid—because kids almost never fail at Step 1. Their brains are sponges. Your brain was a willing sponge, you believed that the story was telling you something and you took it in without any conscious thought.

So like, if you felt like crying during the scene in Inside Out where Bing Bong fades away, or you did cry, ask yourself “why?”

The first answer to that question will be “because I liked Bing Bong and now he’s gone, and that’s sad.”

The second one will be: “because I miss my imaginary friend/because I miss my childhood/because I wish I didn’t have to lose memories of good things” etc. And all of that’s true.

But dig deeper. Because that’s exactly how the storyteller wanted you to feel. Reverse-engineer it. Figure out how they accomplished that goal.

Because we all had play-pretend characters when we were kids. We all had childhood friends who aren’t with us anymore. I guarantee you none of them looked like cotton-candy chimeras with hobo jackets. So why did you respond to Bing-Bong’s death as if you were losing something personal? How did they get you to believe that was happening, enough to make you sad, about a character you met an hour ago?

Because you got to know him well over the past hour. You got to know things about him that were easy to believe, things that were in common with your life experiences. You know what he wants, what he doesn’t like. You know where he was hoping to go, and what he was afraid of.

That ties into the next point, but you can do this with things that don’t have anything to do with the character—the other things that make up a movie.

What music was playing during the part where you Felt Something? Was that same melody or motif in another part of the movie—and if it was, what was happening in that part? Are they connected somehow?

What color predominates the screen during that part?

What is the lighting like? Does anything make the lighting different than what we’ve seen so far? Is the lighting creating interesting shapes—how would you describe those shapes?

Where are we? Is it a significant location? What makes the location significant?

Are we losing something? Why does it feel like a loss? Are we gaining something? Why does it feel like a gain? What was missing before that we’re glad is here now?

Those are just a few questions. Because remember, by answering them as honestly and simply as you can, you’re figuring out that the storytellers chose those things, and you’re figuring out why that was the right choice.

Do some compare-contrast: when Bing Bong fades away, what color is he turning before disappearing?

Deep blue, almost purple, right? If you can’t figure out why that would be a good choice, do some compare-contrast. What if the color he was vaguely dissolving into was green? That would look kind of sickly, or it would evoke feelings of “poison gas.” Weird for a moment that’s supposed to be sad. What if the color was yellow? Joy is yellow, in the movie. So pretty directly, that would be the wrong color because it would be kind of pretty, and it would make the audience feel a little “ooo” like they do when the Beast transforms in yellow light. But blue? Who’s blue in this movie? Sadness. Obviously. Sadness is blue—it’s very human to respond that way. You can do that same “what-if, compare/contrast” with the answer to every question on that bullet point list.

“When Genie is set free and I Felt Something, the location it’s in is on the throne room balcony. Well, why? Why’d the storytellers pick that? Because that’s where they were after the final battle, yeah, but that final battle could’ve been anywhere. Why didn’t the final battle with Jafar finish by having everybody in the throne room? Well, if it had been in the throne room, there would have been a lot of destruction from the final battle laying around. Having ruins behind Genie while he looks all sparkly and triumphant would’ve been a little odd. Plus, there would’ve been a roof. Would he have gone “I’m freee—hee!!” and flown out a window? That might’ve felt silly. But out on the balcony, he’s looking sparkly and triumphant against an open sky. Ohhh, an open sky makes you think of endless opportunity. That’s so smart. Even my subconscious was convinced, by the sky behind him, that something momentous and liberating was happening in this scene. And not just for Genie, but Aladdin is finally being “freed,” too, because they know who he is and love him anyway, and Jasmine is being ‘freed,’ too, because the law—“ Okay that’s enough, you get the idea.

Let’s go into the really fun part.

Step 4. I Look At The Characters

A good storyteller uses something that the audience can relate and empathize with for their main focus. And that’s usually a character (doesn’t have to be. You can describe a tree with personification in a poem, and a human will empathize with that tree’s “life,” or situation, and boom—suddenly you have a story.)

A super talented writer I know named @doverstar once wrote an entire story from the perspective of I think a paperclip? And I still remember it to this day. (Specifically I remember a crazy straw wrapper in the story, but you get my point.)

SO! Characters are the easiest and best way for a storyteller to get the person they’re trying to communicate with to engage. Which means, looking at characters is the easiest avenue to understand a story by. Usually, the storyteller jammed the whole message of the story into their characters in neat, interesting little packages. You just have to unpack them.

Here’s how I do it, roughly:

A. Figure Out What the Character Wants

In my post about The Lion King, I said Simba wants to be free to do whatever he wants all the time. And that’s true. But how did I figure that out? I’ll show you. It’s plain, because the storytellers wanted you to know.

Look At Dialogue - What a character says almost always gives you hints to what they want—even if they never say what they want out loud. Kids are most likely to say it, point-blank. So cub-Simba says, “But I thought a King could do whatever he wants.” But adults usually don’t say exactly what they want, because by that time, they’re either confused about what they want or they’re insecure about what people will think of what they want—whatever. The point is, pay attention to what a character says. Simba also sings, later, “free to do it all my way!” You can also find a lot out by what a character doesn’t say. Aladdin could’ve said, “yeah, well, at least I’m not a pompous jerk!” when Prince Achmed calls him “worthless.” That would’ve been more of his gutsiness, and he would’ve been right, like a hero should be when calling out a bully. But it wouldn’t have told you anything about what he thinks about what Achmed just said. Instead, he goes, “I’m not worthless!” …People who really believe obvious things don’t say those obvious things. Because they’re obvious. So when Aladdin says, to a closed door and an empty street, “I’m NOT worthless,” you realize that he’s just trying to convince himself. What he means is, “I don’t want to be worthless, and I don’t want to be seen that way.” Because on some level, he is afraid that he is worthless. See how you can tease that out based on what Aladdin says? Then it makes sense that, from that moment on, Aladdin does everything to prove he’s not worthless, or to make people believe he’s not—he goes to great lengths to preserve that image. That’s his motive. Just like Simba disobeys his father and Zazu because he wants to prove he’s a powerful Prince who can do whatever he wants. That’s his motive at the beginning of the movie. You can also learn a lot about what a different character says about another character. And whether or not they’re portrayed as right or wrong. When Prince Achmed says Aladdin is “worthless,” you don’t believe him. He’s drawn in gross curvy lines and he whips children and kicks poor people. You’re not inclined to believe he tells the truth, on top of all that. So the storytellers don’t want you to think Aladdin is worthless—they want you to believe that Aladdin thinks he’s worthless, on some level.

Look at Actions - Actions do speak louder than words. When a character is presented with a decision to make, look at what road they take.

Look at what that says about them. For example, when Andy Dufresne chooses to play music for all the people at Shawshank, even though it’s definitely going to get him in trouble, or when he dares to approach and talk to the abusive prison guard just for a few beers, you learn something about him. It might be confusing, and it might take cross-referencing that action with the fact that he’s digging himself a way out while everyone else is accepting their sentence. But you’ll see that he could have just done what everybody else did. Got through his sentence with the bare-minimum of work. Kept himself busy with any old thing. But that’s not what the storyteller has him do. The storyteller had him continue to bring new, life-lived things into the prison. He creates a space for people to learn and better themselves, he wheedles beers in just for the enjoyment of them, he’s beaten for the sake of music being played. The idea is that he’s going to keep pushing and living, reaching for more, instead of settling, like a man who’s already dead. So then by the time he digs his way out of Shawshank, you believe it. You’re like, “yeah, Andy would do that. I’ve seen him go to great lengths to live this whole time.” Through his actions, and the actions he doesn’t take even when he could, you figure out his motive.

Watch for the Change - Not every character changes. But when a character starts saying something that’s opposite to the kinds of things they said at the beginning, take note. When the character starts doing something they wouldn’t or couldn’t do at the beginning, take note. Miles Morales tries to jump off a building as his first test of being Spider-Man, and he can’t, he goes to a shorter building. Later in the movie, he jumps upside-down off of one. The change in action demonstrates a change in motive—he used to be focused on not-failing. Now he’s focused on taking action.

I’m sorry, I know this is already a long post, but wanna see it all come together?

(Dialogue) On Miles’ first day in class a girl points out that his shoes are untied, and Miles says, “I know. It’s a choice.” He leaves his shoes untied on purpose. (Action.) He also tries to fail in school on purpose. (Action and Dialogue: His teacher spells it out with her dialogue “You’re trying to quit. And I’m not going to let you.”) Then later when Mils tries to run and jump off a short building as Spider-Man, his shoes are still untied. Why? He does things sloppily on purpose. He leaves his shoes untied the same way he tries to fail tests he knows he can pass—because it’s easy. Because you can’t fail at something risky if you don’t try. So he trips and falls off the building. (Action.) That’s Miles’ motive. He’s got “Great Potential,” but he could succeed, but he chooses not to because he’s afraid of failure. Then later, when he leaps headfirst down a skyscraper, did you notice his shoes? They’re tied. (The Change.)

All from a pair of shoes.

Someone had to draw this kid’s shoes, before anyone knew what he would be wearing, and decide why it mattered. Someone had to pick what dismissive line a kid would say to him on his first day of school—and they had to pick exactly what words he would use to respond.

They’re trying to tell you something. All you have to do is believe that, and then you’ll start to not only hear what they’re saying, but appreciate how they choose to say it.

B. Figure out Who a Character Is

This one you can find clues for in the same three things: Dialogue, Actions, The Change. (If there is a change. There isn’t always.)

A character like Stitch is easy to analyze. Other characters straight up say (Dialogue) “You were built to destroy, you have no place among us, you wreck everything you touch, there is nothing inside you that is good.” Then he makes abominable choices (Action) pushes little girls down, rips up toys, chews on the heads of other aliens, actively tries to murder alien cops. But he also looks sad after a night of destroying things (Actions) and asks Lilo to explain to him a book about an ugly duckling (Dialogue? He sort of grunts.) So you’re starting to notice solid character traits: Stitch is evil, Stitch likes being evil, but Stitch feels empty being the way he is. Then when the Change comes, it’s meaningful, and it gives you a hint as to what the storytellers were trying to say.

You get a sense of what Stitch would do, what Stitch wouldn’t do—and you can ask why. With Stitch, it’s just because that’s how he was created by his literal creator. But with other characters, like Cinderella, you’re given background. Her parents taught her to be good and kind regardless of her circumstances. So then when her circumstances get worse and worse, and she chooses to hang on to what she was taught even when the parents are gone, that’s a big deal. And what happens as a result of that “big deal,” what happens as a result of “who the character is” and their “motive,” is our next step!

Remember, you can do this for almost all of the characters. And whichever character gets the most screen-time, what they’re doing during that screentime—all of those things matter.

Step 5: Look at What The Storytellers Reward & Punish

People mess this step up because they mess up Step 2. They forget that the storytellers are trying to tell them something—something specific, something with parameters—and they just start reading their own ideas and reasoning into the characters.

Prime example: people blaming Admiral Holdo for Poe’s actions in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. The whole movie, Poe is doing things that are understandable, but ultimately, foolish. His Character Actions are coming from his Character Motives—which are flawed. Poe believes he should always stand and fight and do what’s heroic. There’s a little pride that goes with that—that he has to be the one to make the stand, or at least to know that there is a heroic plan. But every time he takes these actions, something bad results from it.

Disobeys Leia and Bombs the Dreadnaught -> Every other Pilot dies, and the ship is being tracked anyway. Leia slaps him and tries to tell him to learn a different lesson. Sad or intense music plays. One of the other main characters is majorly negatively affected by the death of her sister in this bombing run.

Sends Finn & Rose on a Mission Without Trusting His Superiors With the Plan -> They Don’t Make It and Nearly Die. His Superiors Trust Him Less.

Staged a Mutiny Necause He Doesn’t Trust Any Plan That’s Not Heroic, Especially if They Didn’t Tell Him First -> The Real Plan is Almost Foiled, Leia Stuns Him.

But some people see all that and they don’t willingly accept that the filmmakers are telling you Poe is in the wrong. They impose the fact that they like him, and they don’t like the purple-haired lady, over the narrative—against all reason, against all odds. They’ve stopped taking in the story, and they’re writing fanfiction before it’s even over. They believe Poe is in the right—if Admiral Holdo had just told him the plan, he would’ve gone alone with it! None of this had to happen!

Actually, the storytellers prove the opposite of that: that Poe would’ve been furious and put a stop to a life-saving plan, because he hates running away. But people are spinning out into “what SHOULD have happened,” or removing one tiny piece of the story and blowing it up and out of context, and judging the whole story on that. If you’re not a big Star Wars fan, consider this: I’ve seen people argue that in Beauty & the Beast, the Enchantress is the real villain and the Beast and his castle are the victims. This is ridiculous. Clearly, the storytellers are telling you that the Beast was in the wrong and the Enchantress was in the right.

They’re telling you this because they design the Enchntress beautifully. They align her with virtues like “value love, be kind to others, be humble,” and they introduce the beast to you with “sneered, selfish, spoiled, unkind, no love in his heart.” They straight up tell you that in the narrator’s voice. You have to believe them, in good faith, if you want to understand what they’re saying.

What about when there’s no voiceover narrating what’s good and bad? No problem. Look at other things. Like I said, look at how Poe is made a fool of by a benevolent and beloved character (Leia) whenever he makes decisions that the storytellers want you to see as bad decisions. Look at the lighting, the location, the colors, and the music during scenes where consequences of a characters’ actions are coming.

That’s what you’re looking for. What does the movie say is good, and what does the movie say is bad? What does the movie say is true, and what does the movie say is a lie?

At the beginning of E.T., the main character is disliked by everybody, including his older brother, because he only thinks of himself and how he feels. By the end, when the kid has taken such careful care of E.T. and reveals it to his big brother, his big brother wants to help him. They’re all brought together. Because the main character stopped doing something that the storytellers disapprove of, which is “thinking only about how you feel,” and he started “thinking about how other people feel” for a change. In the beginning of the movie, he’s lonely, angry, standing in shots that are wide and empty. By the end, he’s flying, beautiful music is playing, and he’s happy. The storytellers reward what they’re trying to convince you is good and right.

Step 6: Are the Storytellers Right?

I always stress remembering this last part. It’s all well and good to lower your defenses and take in a story in good faith. You should not ask this question until you’re done listening, in most cases. Just like it’s well and good to listen to someone with a different perspective than you—you might be wrong, and a story’s main function, like I say on my profile’s pinned post, is to act as a Signpost that Directs You Back to Truth When You’ve Wandered.

But the problem is, fallible humans are telling the stories, and fallible humans are listening to the stories.

So you need to know what you believe, and after the storytellers tell you something, measure it against reality. When Greta Gerwig says, “You Can Be Whatever You Want to Be, Because You’re God,” and she says it with the Barbie movie, is she right? When Cinderella says, “Have Courage and Be Kind, and You’ll Have Hope in the Worst Circumstances,” is the movie right? What if you find yourself in the worst of circumstances one day—you better hope Cinderella didn’t feed you lies. What if there is a God, and it’s not you—you better hope Barbie didn’t feed you lies. I really enjoyed going over this! I’m sorry it was so long. If there’s ever anything more or like, follow-up questions, go ahead and ask! I’ll try to make it briefer next time. Thanks again!

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aerynwrites · 9 months

Note

If you would be open to it, I’d love to ask for your HCs on: (* * spoiler-ish ahead * *) what if reader/tav went with Halsin at the end of Act III to establish a sanctuary for the refugees/take care of the children? Little snippets of life sort of things for how you think it would be between the two of them without the pressures of saving the whole world. I love your perspectives and writing !! Definitely would be awesome to read your take on that sorta thing

I as going to have this up sooner but tumblr apparently hates me and deleted the post on two different occasions when I was working on it lmao. so sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy!

Halsin and Reader after The game

Okay so

I feel like a lot of their first few months would be focusing on rebuilding efforts.

bc personally - I know Halsin in game says that he is going back to Thaniel's realm. But I love the idea of him actually returning to Moonrise/the old shadow lands and rebuilding the area there to truly give the refugees a place to call home.

so lots of rebuilding, coordinating relief efforts, etc.

I also feel like you would convince Halsin rebuild the little house that you all found Oliver in for a house of your own away from the hustle and bustle of things.

and after just a few short months it seems like its done.

sure there will always be things to do and fix and rebuild, but everyone had a roof over their head and full bellies and safety!

something none of you have had in a while.

Halsin relishes in it. you thought he was a bright light in the darkness before, he's even more so now.

like a actual weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

for the first time in centuries he's able to truly take in what's in front of him, and he spends pretty much every moment of that new feeling with you.

one thing you love doing is looking at the stars, an activity Halsin also enjoys.

he loves pointing out the different constellations to you, or if he's in bear for you'll do the same for him as you lean into his furry side.

speaking of his bear form...

The refugee children fucking love that shit.

the children love Halsin in general, especially those who lost their parents and look to him as a father figure of sorts.

They practically hang off of him whenever you two venture into the more populated areas.

they always beg him to wild shape, something he hardly ever denies since he often prefers that form anyways.

And he's admitted to you on a few occasions that he loves to see them happy and laughing after all they've been through.

life would continue this way for a while, your only true responsibilities being protecting those around you.

Life is finally peaceful, quiet and you wouldn't change much.

after a few years I could see Halsin possibly bringing up the idea of children, but he would never push.

if you want children of your own biologically he would be More than happy to indulge that desire lol.

but if that's not something you envision for yourself he would be happy that way too: kids, no kids, adopting one of the children in need...Halsin is happy if you are happy.

and no matter what life throws at you, you both know you have each other from now on.

#halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 x reader #halsin #bg3 #bg3 halsin

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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month

Text

New Recruit

So as it turns out, my big thing is just making a ton of different aus for cod and throwing König into the middle of them. Poor guy never gets a break when I'm around.

Either way, this is a super fun au I cooked up and I think y'all might really like it. Super fun campy paranormal goodness. I am so happy with how this is going!

Anyways, SFW but a relatively longer fic from me

2.6k wordcount

Story below the cut

New Recruit

Was this really the place? The old firehouse in front of you seemed rundown and decrepit in how it perched on the corner of the street, kept in place only by worn down concrete sidewalks with dandelions growing up from the spiderweb cracks interlaced throughout. It seemed to be ready to collapse at the snap of your fingers, which you kept safely tucked away in the pockets of your pants as you took in what was supposedly your new workplace.

Once, the big barn doors had been painted a bright crimson red. Now they were cracked and chipped and broken down by time and teenage vandalism that had been power washed away. You walked to the corner of the street and looked down the side to find a smaller, more reasonable green door that had been tucked away from your sight. You walked up, trying to ignore the smashed glass windows and instead buzzed the doorway.

“Hello?”

The sonorous tone of the voice surprised you, but you called your name and explained you were here for the interview.

“Oh right! Yeah I remember you. Come on in.”

The lock clicked, allowing you to push through to look inside. You traveled down the chipped linoleum floors to a grand opening surrounded in white over green tiles stacked haphazardly on the walls. There, in front of a rich wood cabinet that seemed to be bursting with files, a large man with skin like rusted ochre sat and typed away at a keyboard that seemed to be dwarfed by his leathery mitts.

“Just one second,” the man held up a finger as he typed rapidly.

With time on your hand, you looked around the room. The pillars holding up the caving ceiling were working wonders to give the whole place a strangely clinical feeling. At the far wall, a set of rusted black iron stairs crawled up to places unknown while a strangely ominous door sat quietly to the right of it, hidden just out of sight from casual observers. The big balls of light held up by stringy cords swung with an unfelt breeze.

“Alright,” the big man turned his chair to you, “c’mon in and take a seat here. Make yourself comfy.”

He gestured with one large hand to a ratty folding chair. With nowhere else to sit, you took your seat delicately, lest you crush it beneath your weight (in all fairness, you suspected a paperclip might do it in). Adjusting your clothes, you straightened yourself to meet the man’s eyes, or rather, the sunglasses he wore indoors.

“Alright. The name’s Darnell Hutchinson, but everyone ‘round here calls me Hutch. You’d best to do the same.”

You nodded quickly.

“Awesome. So,” the man leaned his elbows onto the hardwood desk, “you know the job title’s not a joke, right?”

You had already forgotten the job title.

“Oh yeah, I know,” you played it off.

“Alright. So you’re a firm believer that there’s things out there that science can’t explain?” Hutch continued.

You tried to not let your facial expressions squirm too much as you lied through your teeth, “Sure thing. There’s a whole world out there to explore.”

Hutch ticked a box on a checklist, “Good. So the whole thing about this job is that you’ll be pretty active around here. Lots of running, jumping, ducking, dodging, all that stuff. You think you’re fit enough?”

“I can be if you need me to be,” you chirped.

“Great,” Hutch nodded with a rewarding smile, “I like your attitude. Anyways, most important question of this whole shebang: do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” you couldn’t stop yourself from reeling back.

“Ghosts,” Hutch confirmed solemnly, “poltergeists, banshees, spirits, phantoms, shades, things that go bump in the night. You believe in any of that?”

This interview was a joke. It had to be.

“I’ll believe whatever you pay me to believe,” you replied truthfully.

Hutch lowered his shades to give you a long look.

“Ma’am this ain’t no joking matter. If you want to survive in this place, you’d best understand that ghosts are very, very, real.”

“Then they’re real,” you couldn’t believe what you were saying. Were you that desperate for a job?

“I’ll hold you to that,” Hutch shook his head as he turned over the paper, “so do you have any sorta background in science?”

“A bit?” you offered weakly.

“Better than nothing,” Hutch nodded and scribbled onto his clipboard before putting it down, “alright ma’am, I just gotta clear this with the others, and then I’ll get back to ya. Based on the other applicants we got,” Hutch winked, “I think you got the job.”

Your smile split from ear to ear, the brightest one you’d felt in the past two months.

“So, when should I hear back from you?” you asked hopefully.

“When the other’s come ba-”

The big double doors swung wide open as a big white white cadillac came screaming in with blaring sirens casting wild lights around the room. As soon as the car screeched to a stop, four people peeled out of the car like it was on fire.

“We got a real fighter in here!” a man with a heavy Korean accent held up a swinging black and yellow striped box crackling with energy.

“Hey hey be careful there!” a (by comparison) smaller woman yelled at the man, “that’s a class five you got banging around in there!”

A big man in a shroud shook his head as he stomped up beside you.

“Hutch,” the man’s slow russian drawl caught your attention, “Horangi caught the specter. Please tell Mrs. Wilson that her home is officially cleared.”

“On it,” Hutch said as he twirled his chair back to the computer monitor.

You blinked as the russian man nodded and walked back to the other three as they all retreated upstairs.

“Are those the others?” you whispered inconspicuously.

“Sure thing ma’am,” Hutch grinned, “those’re New York’s finest.”

You watched as the fourth and final figure stumbled forth. If you thought Hutch was big, this man was massive. His black cloth mask stained with two red tear trails swung with every heavy footstep he took towards you. When he laid his arctic blue eyes on you, you gave him a small wave. He stalled, then turned to look at Hutch.

“You gonna go into the basement and do your weird biology shit?” Hutch drawled.

The giant looked peeved, but nodded and hurried off with the sparking black and yellow box to the smaller door on the ground floor.

“I’ll go talk to the others. If you wanna wait around, it shouldn’t take more than an hour,” Hutch offered.

You didn’t have anywhere better to be. It’s not like you exactly had a job you needed to go to. So, you took up the offer and started playing around with your phone while Hutch loped off to catch up with the others.

Left alone, you were given the time to really take in what had just happened. What sort of job did you try and apply for here? You were just sending in your application to anything that was posted on the five job sites you’d been scouring through. You just had an interview for garbage disposal yesterday, and the day before that as a secretarial assistant for a hotel. You weren’t exactly picky, and neither was your landlord. You were already two months behind and he was breathing down your neck for your rent as the clock ticked down on you. One month left, and then you’d have to pay it all back in full. You didn’t know what you were going to do.

You sighed and slumped in your chair. Ever since you lost your job at the diner, you were scrambling for anything to get you by. The handiwork you’d been offering on Facebook Marketplace was dwindling down for the season and you didn’t have any equipment or expertise in lawncare to offer your services to the more elite of New York City. You were getting too desperate to turn down a job just because it dealt with ‘ghosts’ or whatever.

You rolled your eyes. Who even believed in ghosts? What sort of nonsense was this all about? It seemed ridiculous and juvenile. But if there was some eccentric billionaire hiring ghost hunters for some bunk science experiment, you’d be down to clown. So long as you got paid, of course. Anything was on the table as long as the bills got paid.

You thought back to the four people who came out of that bizarre car. You turned to take a good look at it.

A white cadillac with a red trim sporting a siren and a megaphone on the top sat still, almost as though it hadn’t nearly shot your eardrums out just moments before. It looked like it had been modified in some way to give it more leg room, making it look decently spacious in size but you still couldn’t figure out quite how that big guy with the cloth mask fit in there. The thought of him crammed in there with his knees up to his chest made you snort.

“You don’t like my baby?”

You swung your head back around so fast you cracked your neck.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man chuckled as he descended down the metal stairs.

“I wasn’t laughing at your car,” you defended yourself quickly.

The man raised an eyebrow above his sunglasses, his smile hidden by a camo face mask, “So what were you laughing at?”

You bit your lip, then admitted, “Thinking about that big guy trying to fit in that car.”

“Oh!” the man gave a deep belly laugh, “it can get tight in there, but not bad. It’s good enough to get us around.”

“So that’s your car?” you asked.

“A 1958 Cadillac Miller-Meteor Sentinel ambulance. It’s been hauling us all around town since I rescued it from a scrapyard a year ago,” the man slumped into Hutch’s chair and kicked his heavy boots up onto the desk. He looked at you for a moment then pressed a finger to his mask, “Don’t tell Hutch.”

You laughed, “Won’t say a word.”

The man nodded approvingly before reaching a hand out, “I’m Hornagi, the face of the company.”

“You’re the face?” a feminine voice called out.

Horangi turned to glare up at the lithe woman at the top of the staircase, standing as though she was liberty and strength incarnate. She looked down at you with a knowing smirk.

“Nice to see you, Roze,” the man peevishly grumbled as he swirled in Hutch’s chair.

“Don’t listen to him,” Roze sighed as she walked down gracefully, “Horangi’s an idiot.”

“I’m the one with the physics degree,” Horangi scoffed.

“You also blasted a hole through Mrs. Wilson’s cat tree,” Roze snarked as she rounded the banister, “you’re just lucky she was taking that cat to the vet.”

“Eh,” Horangi threw up his hands, “she can buy another.”

“You know that comes out of our salary, right?” Roze leaned against one of the pillars before looking up warily, “sure could use that money to help out here…”

Horangi was about to reply before he looked up at the ceiling.

“Maybe,” Horangi conceded.

“So,” the woman turned to look at you with a smirk on her scarlet red lips, “you’re the new recruit?”

“I’m the new recruit?” you asked in bewilderment.

“Yes you!” Roze laughed and swung her dark hair from her eyes, “Hutch was pretty excited about you.”

“I didn’t think I did that well,” you muttered under your breath.

“Hah! I like this one!” Horangi cheered beside you.

“You like everyone, slut,” Roze rolled her eyes.

“I have very high standards, thank you,” the man sniffed.

“Are you sure?” Roze snorted, “doesn’t seem like it.”

“And this is why you aren’t allowed to be interviewed anymore,” Horangi pointed at her, “you’re too mean.”

“I’m just mean to you,” Roze pointed out.

“Only for me? You’re too nice.”

“I’d shove you in a trap if I could,” Roze growled.

“I’d say you have the worst interviews, but König exists,” Horangi sneered.

Roze sighed as she pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes, “König can’t be allowed near a microphone ever again.”

“That was the worst I’ve seen him in years, you know,” Horangi ran a hand through the back of his short but fluffy black hair, “did you see that poor reporter trying to get her mic back?”

“I had to help her,” Roze groaned, “but he just kept going on and on.”

“Is König the russian guy?” you wormed your way into the conversation.

Roze’s dark brown eyes widened as though she only just noticed you were there, “What? No, Nikto’s great in interviews. He’s the face of the company.”

“I’m the face!”

“Nikto seems pretty scary, but he’s actually really cool once you get to know him,” Roze’s smile dropped, “just don’t ask about his mask.”

Hornagi turned to you and nodded solemnly, “She’s right. Don’t ask about the mask.”

“The halloween mask?” you asked, thinking back to the Scream mask that the man wore.

“He rotates,” Roze offered, “but yeah, Nikto’s nice. He’s funny and he works hard. He’s smart, too.”

“He’s the only one of us that didn’t have a background in science,” Horangi cut in, “he only took the job because he needed one for his green card.”

“Now he has to deal with all of us,” Roze grinned.

“So you all have degrees?” you asked, thinking back to Hutch’s questions about your educational background.

“Horangi has a masters in physics, I have a masters in chemistry and a doctorate in physics, and König has a doctorate in biology,” Roze offered.

“Hutch has a masters in cyber security and a bachelors in mechanical engineering, which is how he got into the military,” Horangi added, “so he’s really our ‘man in the chair’ here.”

“And Nikto?” you asked.

“Something in the military,” Roze trailed off nervously.

“Nikto was in the KGB, I think,” Horangi clacked his teeth together.

“Don’t ask about that either,” Roze declared.

“Don’t ask about his job back home or his mask,” Hornagi affirmed.

“Are they related?” you inquired.

Roze and Horangi shared a look before turning back and saying, “Yes.”

Ah.

The door up above swung open and Hutch walked through, “There you guys are!”

“Yeah, we’re just talking to the new recruit here,” Roze called up as Hutch came down.

“So both of you think she’s a good fit?” Hutch asked.

“Sure do,” Roze nodded as Hornagi followed suit.

Hutch walked up to his chair and yanked it back so hard that Horangi nearly fell out of his chair, “Out.”

Hornagi grumbled as he relinquished the seat and strolled over to stand beside Roze with an indignant huff.

“I was talking to Nikto upstairs, and he seems to think you’re a good fit too,” Hutch typed into his computer furiously, “so, you know, majority rules.”

“Does König know?” Horangi asked.

“König can suck an egg,” Hutch shook his head irritably, “he needs to get over himself.”

The printer whirred to life and started chugging through paper. Hutch gathered the papers and a pen and handed them over to you, the stack still warm in your hands.

“Whelp, looks like you’ve got the job,” Hutch smiled warmly as he handed over the forms.

You read through the papers quickly before signing and handing the papers back over.

Hutch stood and you followed suit. He held out a meaty hand and gave you a firm, welcoming handshake.

“Welcome to the Ghostbusters, recruit.”

AU Masterlist

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Note

Bingo prompt: Steve Rogers with the period cramps prompts please!!!!

Here it is, babes! Thank you so much for participating 💕💗

Period Cramps (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

SteveRogers x Female!Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, periods being bitches, boyfriend goals Steve

Perks of dating a Super Soldier? Well, they are super fit and strong. Also, the stamina? Ugh, that’s a whole new category of awesome. But they also never get sick... or periods. Which means, they sometimes forget that normal people do...

“Hey doll, are you ready?” Steve’s voice traveled through the apartment. You heard him place his keys on the counter and then his heavy footsteps came down the hallway.

Hastily, you sat up on the bed and wiped the tears away. You hated being on your period. And while being reminded that you were not pregnant was a pretty nice thing every once in a while, it still sucked to be in utter pain once a month. Today, the cramps had been particularly bad, starting off with a great morning of lack of taste, and continuing with an even more torturous afternoon of finding that one position that hurt less than any other. You were exhausted, and you felt like crap.

Steve and your relationship was fairly new. Yes, he had the keys to your apartment (but that was because he watered your plants when you were away one time and insisted on having them for “emergencies”). And yes, the two of you were basically already like an old married couple (really, it was crazy how well you adapted to each other’s routines). But despite all this, he had yet to see you at the worst phase of your period. Today, however, you had dinner plans and because you were so knocked out by good old aunt flow this morning, you had totally forgotten to cancel on him.

The door to your bedroom opened carefully and not even a second later, Steve’s smiley blonde head popped through the gap. “Good evening, sweetheart.” He purred in that seductively deep voice of his, and then his full body filled the frame.

Man, you would never get tired of this. The pet names, the broad shoulders, that charming smile... But before you could gift him your love dazed eyes, another cramp squeezed your insides and pulled a whiny groan from your lips.

Steve immediately straightened up. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he approached you on the bed, his large hand encasing your face, brows dipping in concern. “Have you been crying, love?”

That was it for you. The tears welled up again, making you a sobbing mess in your boyfriend’s arms. He pulled you in and rocked you soothingly and you loved it, really, but at the same time, you were so mad at yourself for crying again. You hated crying. You hated feeling like this. You hated your freaking uterus. Why? Why?!

This all just lead to more crying and frustration, but Steve didn’t say a word. He was just there, making sure you knew that he’d give you all the time in the world to let it all out - whatever it was, because he was still clueless.

“I’m sorry.” You pulled away after a while. “I was so excited about today, and I already had an outfit ready, and I-” you cried again - god, this was exhausting. “But I got my period this morning and the cramps are-” you buried your face in your hands to silence the stupid sobs when another cramp washed over you, but there was no use. “Ow,” you mumbled when the wave of pain subsided.

Steve’s hands pulled yours away from your face carefully. His blue eyes held yours for a moment, silent empathy passing between you. “Never apologize for that, you hear me?” His thumb grazed over your forehead, the slightly heated skin relaxing your frown. “What can I do for you, honey?”

Mildly embarrassed and exhausted, you exhaled a long breath. You didn’t usually cry, most people didn't notice when you were on your period at all, but today was just a little too much of everything added on top of each other. And you were just so hungry too. All that pain had prevented you from getting up for anything but the bathroom. Food hadn’t even been on your mind until now.

“Is it okay if we stay in tonight?”

He smiled, seemingly relieved you responded well to his question. “Of course. Have you eaten anything today? Drink enough water? Tea?” He was up before you knew it but halting in anticipation of your answer. Steve still had that smile on his face, a little encouragement you didn’t know you needed.

“I haven’t had the energy to cook...”

He leaned down again, grabbing your face gently and kissing you softly. “Hey, hey. That’s okay. I’ll whip us something up. What do you want? Breakfast for dinner?”

“That sounds amazing.” You smiled at him and Steve’s eyes lit up.

-❁-

You had made your way to the kitchen when you heard pots and pans clanging down the hall. Steve was standing by the small island, his button-up sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button undone. You just sat at the table and watched his handsome self roam through your cabinets in search of ingredients and utensils. And for the first time in the day, you were not focused on the pain in your body.

It wasn’t long before you and Steve cuddled up on the sofa after some nice pancakes and Tea, a negligible rom-com playing on the TV and lighting up the darkening room.

You had your back pressed up to Steve’s chest as you both watched the TV with little interest. His body heat proved to be perfect for your cramps as his entire body encased yours. His hand found your lower stomach almost immediately, a soothing warm hand covering the skin when it slipped beneath your sweatpants, making a content sigh escape your lips.

Steve had managed to turn this whole day upside down. And the soothing heat keeping your cramps at bay was just the cherry on top.

“Are you comfortable?” He whispered lowly behind your ear, a meaningful kiss pressed to your neck when you hummed in response.

You already had your eyes closed, it was impossible not to. All the trouble of the day had exhausted you too much. And the way Steve cared for you, made sure you were well and comfortable, adjusting pillows and blankets to find the best position for the both of you left sleep to finally take over your body.

“Sleep well, my love,” her pressed another kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer though. “I love you.”

...Perks of dating a super soldier? They’re very warm and cuddly. And especially Steve serves as the perfect heating pad and cuddle buddy for when you’re feeling a bit under the weather :)

**and this is just a little bonus that has nothing to do with the text above but I wrote it down first and didn’t want to keep it from you**

“I got chocolate, tampons, flowers, cheese, and magazines.”

“Cheese?”

“Well, I know you like cheese.”

“That- That’s very sweet of you, babe.”

“Oh no... please don’t cry. I can throw the cheese away. I’m sorry.”

“No, I do love cheese. No one ever brought me cheese.”

*Steve hugs you real tight while you calm down*

“Are you okay? Should we put the cheese away?”

“Yes.”

“Cuddles?”

“Yes, please.”

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#1k follower celebration #writing challenge #megs imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers au #steve rogers fluff #captain america x you #steve rogers x reader #captain america fic #captain america x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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zmediaoutlet · 6 months

Text

"Dean, this is stupid—" Sam starts, but he shuts right up when Dean grabs his head down and kisses him, and he also kisses back so clearly it ain't that stupid, is it. Grabs Dean's waist on automatic and his tongue's, yeah, hot and there, ready, even as he mumbles some crap against Dean's mouth about how there's no time and there's a job to do and, yeah, like Dean doesn't know that? But—

"You aren't ruining this for me," Dean says. Even if it's looking like there's a good chance of it. He drops down onto his bootheels and Sam raises his eyebrows with this face like Dean's the dumbest person he knows and even if that's maybe true a lot of the time it's not true this time. Dean's—almost positive. "C'mon, man. We're in the actual wild west, here. There's gonna be a posse. Are you kidding? This is the best day ever."

Dark as hell in the 1800s but there's enough moonlight that Dean can see Sam's expression complicating into some new, more elaborate version of the you're stupid face. "Dude, we have—like, no time. Cas is gonna come pick us up at noon, no matter what."

Dean tips his hat back, slides his hand down to cup the front of Sam's jeans. Grins at what he finds, especially when Sam's eyelids flicker. "We're experienced cowpokes, here. Give me ten minutes."

"Never say cowpoke in this context," Sam says. Not exactly soft, that big familiar bulge filling Dean's palm just like it always has. He glances toward the street, down through the muddy alley, sweeps his own hat off his head, holding it out and to the side almost like he's trying to hide how Dean's going for his belt, zip, permission not exactly stated aloud but Dean was being honest about the experience, he knows permission when he's got it.

God—yeah. Crisp hair and the thick root getting thicker. Dean smiles up with his tongue between his teeth and in the moonlight it's hard to tell but he bets Sam's cheeks are red.

"You're an idiot," Sam breathes. Oh, yeah. Red-faced. His chest heaving. "We get caught we're gonna get hanged, man."

Dean lifts a shoulder, crowding in closer. Sam's hand slides to his ass, squeezes. "Sheriff's busy," he says. He nudges his nose under Sam's jaw and grips his dick at the same time. "Anyway. Boy, they said you was hung—"

Burst of laughter that Sam muffles against Dean's shoulder—Dean grins, even if Sam knocks his hat askew—and Sam drops fully back against the rough-board siding, spreads his boots so Dean can crush in close. Dean opens up his own jeans, quick, kissing Sam's jaw and picturing it—when they're back in the world with modern plumbing and beds and whiskey that doesn't taste like the ass-end of a Ford Pinto—getting Sam into the clothes Dean bought and getting that hat back on his head and really getting his share of schnitzengruben—but god, it's fun now too, in the mud with their boots knocking together and Sam's hand plunging in to grip him whole-handed, hot. Goddamn, cowboy.

"They was right," Sam says, quiet, and only Dean could hear but he laughs too, sniggering up against Sam's throat. Okay, so this is stupid, but Sam's hand is on his dick and they've got—less than ten minutes. Dean braces his boots better in the mud and slides his hand up under Sam's shirt, feels the hair on his belly. His gut warm and knowing the world's teetering in the balance but when isn't it, damn. He gets ten minutes, goofing around with his brother.

"First one to shoot owes the other a sarsaparilla," Dean says, and Sam groans and crams his hat back on his own head, says, "Shut up," but he grips Dean by the neck and kisses him and grips Dean by the nuts and then drags his fingers up the root and tugs up the shaft and slides his thumb sweet, sweet, right there, where it counts—okay, so maybe Dean spoke too soon about the sarsaparilla.

(Later—much later—at a motel after they clear out of Bobby's house and Cas is sent on his way and Dean's not looking forward, at all, to stripping out of his awesome sheriff's outfit, and thinking about whether he could keep it at the storage locker in Black Rock without Sam somehow finding out—Sam says, you're the worst, and Dean says why this time, hardly paying attention, and Sam says, you got any idea how awful it is to ride a horse with your shorts all caked in jizz? and then, while Dean's bent over whooping with laughter, Sam stripping miserably out of his jeans, Sam says, you still owe me that sarsaparilla, and Dean has to sit on the floor, shoulders shaking, before he says, yeah, Sammy, eyes streaming, yeah, I'll get right on that, and Sam says you better but when Dean wipes his face he sees that Sam's looking at him that way Sam sometimes does when things are good, so. Dean was right, wasn't he. Best day ever.)

#happy wincest wednesday #my writing #ww lottery #a random ficlet for episode 122 #it's been fuckin shitty out here fam #so have some giggles barely in context

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george-weasleys-girl · 1 year

Note

YULE TIDE REQUEST COMING IN HOT BC ITS COLD

Could you write something where the Weasleys are heading to spend Christmas at the order after Mr Weasleys attack (so could be a bit angsty to start), and on their arrival they find Y/N there with Sirus, her Dad and her Uncle Moony, telling her and the trio how they set up the old order back in the day and reader talks about setting up a new one, but the twins (Fred is her bf) didn't know who her family was as she kept it secret, all these years, even more so as Lupin teaches them all Defence Against The Dark Arts. Maybe a bit of akwardness at first when she explains why she couldn't tell them (rumours going around the magic world etc), but cute fluff after when they continue discussing the order, open presents etc. I need cute fluff 🥰

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Fancy Meeting You Here

I goofed and posted this early.🤦‍♀️My only other option was to delete it. So, here it is. Merry Really, Early Christmas! 🎁

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

"It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keep wounds open," Arthur had explained. "They’re sure they’ll find an antidote. Though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

It was touch and go for a while, but you'd never know it talking to the Weasley patriarch. Despite excruciating pain and losing half his body weight in blood every day, Arthur had remained in high spirits throughout the whole ordeal.

Fred wished he could say the same for himself. Oh sure, he played it off well enough, making jokes and being silly, but truthfully, it had scared him. The knowledge that his dad could've died had shaken him to his very core, and he had no idea how to handle that.

He was certain things would've been better if his girlfriend was by his side. But, sadly, her parents had insisted she come home for the holidays, leaving him to muddle through on his own.

~•~

"Y/N!" Fred ran toward, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. "I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed before a confused look settled on his face. "Wait... why are you here?"

His girlfriend gave him a sheepish grin. "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred sat back, stunned. "Sirius is your dad?"

"Sirius Black?" George echoed.

"Yes, Sirius Black is my father." Y/N confirmed.

"But, how?" Fred blistered.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman - " George began.

"Shut up, George," Fred cut his eyes over at his twin. "I know how," he looked back at Y/N. "But, you know... how?"

Y/N had to stifle a grin. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, my mum isn't in the picture. My Uncle Mooney took care of me while dad was in Azkaban."

"Wow... " George marveled.

"Why did you tell me?" Fred asked.

"I had to keep it secret. Dad's on the run. Death Eaters are everywhere, and we're starting the Order back up."

"The order?" Her boyfriend looked excited at the prospect. "The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "With Death Eaters crawling out of the woodwork again, not to mention the possibility that Voldy could come back if he hasn't already, they thought it be a good idea to revive it. And Grimmauld Place will be the headquarters this time around."

"Wicked," Fred replied. "So, my girlfriend is in league with infamous Order of the Phoenix."

Y/N laughed. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that. But, yeah, kinda."

"Well," George clapped his hands on his lap and stood. "That's all I need to know right now to know this is going to be an awesome Christmas." He looked at Y/N. "Just a suggestion. You might wanna wait until Harry gets here to get into the fine details. That way, you don't have to tell it twice."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

George grinned. "Well, I'm gonna go find something to eat and let you two catch up."

Once George was gone, Y/N scooted closer to Fred. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together after all."

"Me too," he smiled. "It's been a rough couple of weeks."

"I'm really glad to see you're dad's doing better. I was really worried about him."

"So, was I," Fred admitted, his cheeks growing hot. "I - I really missed you being there with me."

Y/N smiled, pretending she didn't notice the lovely blush rise up across his cheeks and pulled him closer. "Well, I'm here with you now."

"I'm glad," Fred gave a small grin and looked down, trying to hide the stubborn crimson that'd taken up residence on his face.

"But, you know," Y/N continued. "You're failing in your duties as a good boyfriend."

"What?" Fred looked up, eyes wide.

"You've been here for a whole half hour, and you haven't kissed me once."

"Oh dear, you're right," he sat up straight, and his usual, confident cockiness came roaring back. "I must do something about that immediately."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #hp fandom #hp universe

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avelera · 7 months

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Oh GOD you, too, are an online lectures geek pls consider this your invitation to talk about favs--ones that stuck with you, current obsessions--the more the better! In trade, I'll tell you the two things I'm currently adoring: Yale's Open Course podcast on The Civil War to Reconstruction done by David Blight (man forgot more than ten other civil war historians know even if he mumbles *constantly*) and A History of Christianity by Diarmaid MacCulloch (so! worth the Prime BBC free trial <3)

Hiya! Don't mind if I do!

So 99% of the lectures I've watched lately are on the Great Courses Plus which was recently and stupidly renamed "Wondrium", which I find profoundly stupid because instead of just saying, "Hey, check out the Great Courses, yeah you can kinda guess what the streaming service offers," I have to instead explain what this nonsense term "Wondrium" means, ANYWAY, they've got lectures about basically everything.

Essentially, it's Netflix but for college lectures. YouTube has become so unreliable as far as what's actual information and what's completely made up or even racist conspiracy theory BS that I find it completely untrustworthy. Also, most documentaries are trying to prove something new, or offer a new angle on something, OR they're SO rudimentary and 101 that even for topics I know less about in history I tend to already know everything they're going to say.

So I pivoted to college lectures because 1) it's a whole series so like, dozens of hours I can just throw on in the background while doing something mindless and 2) I know it's going to be trustworthy, reliable, and provide me a baseline on a topic instead of some "new controversial spin" on it. Like, goddammit, sometimes I just want to better understand the history of Ancient Egypt, not your stupid theory about how they were secretly all space aliens or that we've got the carbon dating all wrong or whatever made up nonsense.

So, here's a list of some of my favorites!

Hannibal: The Military Genius Who Almost Conquered Rome - I consider myself about as near an expert as a non-academic can get on Rome and this lecture actually taught me some things, which is rare, so I recommend it as a fantastic deep dive!

How the Crusades Changed History is a pretty good short version that I recommend to anyone who enjoyed The Old Guard's Nicky and Joe BUT, for the best Crusades lecture, I'd recommend this History of the Crusades podcast. Sharyn Eastaugh is not just insanely informative, but her dry wit made me laugh out loud at least once an episode at the sheer hapless ineptitude of the Crusaders.

In the Wake of the Plague is a fantastic new lecture by Wondrium, the lecturer is amazing and it provides a lot of objective insights into how humans react to plagues that is VERY relevant to current events, BUT their lecture on **The Black Death in general is the one that got me obsessed with their lecture series. I watched it in the first week of Covid lockdown and let me tell you, having this super in-depth, objective look into how people behaved during the Black Death was incredibly valuable (and chilling) going into those years because it all played out with astonishing similarity. Also, anything by that lecturer, Dorsey Armstrong, is awesome. She's a Medievalist of the highest order. I also recommend her lecture on King Arthur.

**The Birth of the Modern Mind: The Intellectual History of the 17th and 18th Centuries - this one wins the award for "Lecture I thought most likely to bore me to tears that ended up being the single most fascinating I've heard in YEARS." Seriously, the way it explores the evolution of how we think in the modern era, through the philosophers who first conceived of these ideas, was jaw-droppingly fascinating. I also recommend it to writers of historical fiction and fantasy for a crash course, by proxy, of how to write people who think differently than you.

The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World - I once had beef with a post here on Tumblr that claimed that academic Classicists don't care about slaves or normal people during the Roman Empire, which is just profoundly absurd. I pointed out this lecture to them if they actually wanted to learn more about the subject instead of complaining that an art history professor may not have been prepped for a lecture about the lives of enslaved people in Ancient Rome. If that is a subject of interest, this lecture is great.

The Real History of Pirates - a must-listen for OFMD fans who want to get an introduction to historical pirates and the history of pirates in literature, which "Our Flag Means Death" owes as much if not more to than the historical figures.

**Turning Points in Middle Eastern History - One of the first lectures I listened to and still one of my enduring favorites. It's the first one I picked up for writing my Old Guard fic, Lights Out, when I wanted to write Joe from a more informed angle and I learned so much.

Understanding Japan: A Cultural History - One of my favorite lectures based on format, the lecturer picks a literary work or cultural concept as the entry point to explore the timeline of Japanese history. It's a fantastic way to give a wider and more holistic look at each era, pairing it with a cultural touchstone.

Shout-out to "The Mysterious Etruscans" because I just think they're neat. The lecturer is also very good and I highly recommend his lecture on ancient cities as well which taught me a lot that I didn't know.

Also a shout out to, "Warriors, Queens, and Intellectuals: 36 Great Women before 1400" for its subject and the lecturer who is great and she also has a really fascinating talk about the history of Spain.

Ok, I THINK that's some of the top ones! ;D

#history #wondrium #lecture recommendations #long post

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emeraldsandamethyst · 1 year

Text

Inspired by this post by @nerdpoe thank you

AN: a whole new au. Danny is not the ghost king. He is running errands for the ancients. He is unaware but he's a baby ancient himself. The new ancient of space. Though he's not there yet.

Tim is going by Cardinal in this. Jason is still Red Hood, and also the prince that Danny is talking about. Jason and the bats have no idea he's a prince or what it means. I had originally planned on making this dead on main but now it might be dead tired. Unsure. If it is Tim is polyam and already dating Bernard for sure and maybe Kon too idk.

***

Tim, as Cardinal, landed on the rooftop across from the unknown potential rogue. They were glowing weakly and floating just off the gravel on the roof. Their hair was white and mid length. It moved more like smoke than hair. They were wearing a simple black suit with white gloves, boots and belt. They had no face covering.

"Oh, you're here! Awesome! You ready?" They asked cheerfully. He'd been expected. Or if not Cardinal then at least someone from The Colony.

Tim hummed noncommittally. The guy looked confused then disappointed.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" The guy said, both his shoulders and floating hair drooping in disappointment. Curious.

"Why don't you tell me what you think I'm here for and we can compare notes." Tim said with bland politeness. He didn't do anything so stupid as relax, but he wasn't in the mood to fight. So de-escalate it was. Hopefully the unknown would agree.

"Right. Okay. At least you're definitely her knight so you're the right guy." He said, apparently to himself, then he straightened his posture and pulled out a scroll from somewhere, making it look like it came from his suit. "Ahem ahem." He actually said instead of clearing his throat. He began to read. "It has come to the attention of the Council of Ancients that one of our peoples is claiming their haunt in the Living world under false pretenses and with malicious intent beyond reasonable expectations of the Dead.

"Recognizing the great disruption that the Living would experience at Our collective presence We, the Council of Ancients, send in our stead a champion, known to the living as Danny Phantom, to enforce Our decree.

"It has been reported by the Dead victims that the Living have been unable to otherwise mitigate or contain or banish this criminal from their world. The wrongs done are so numerous and so horrific and the Victims so plentiful that We, The Council of Ancients, condemn this man, known to the Living as 'The Joker', to eternal imprisonment. This judgment is to be enforced forthwith. Once apprehend and safely contained We, The Council of Ancients, shall provide a means by which the Living can file their own grievances against The Joker to seek redress.

"Danny Phantom-" Danny stopped reciting and looked over at Cardinal with a disgruntled expression, "that's me. I'm Danny Phantom, I have to read it exactly." Then he went back to reading the document. "Danny Phantom is hereby charged to speak with the Ghost whose haunt has been so grossly violated and follow their demands that do not conflict with Realm law."

Danny waited, holding the scroll open for a few more moments before he offered it, rolled back up, to Tim.

"And that's why I'm here with you, by the way, Lady Gotham told me her knights and Prince would help me and you're her knight, so, yeah! That's why I'm here! Got my warrant and everything Mister Birdman, Sir!"

"... It's Cardinal, actually." Tim said. He took the glowing paper with some concern and opened it himself. The words were not in English or any other language Tim knew. Except as he looked the document translated itself into English.

This was, indeed, a very strange but official seeming document that could be called a warrant. Calling for the detainment of The Joker. In another dimension.

An excuse to get The Joker gone forever? Tim wanted to accept this right now, immediately. But Bruce would need more than a scroll from an unknown government and the words of their supposed representative as proof.

Tim breathed in for four, held it then exhaled for six. "How exactly am I to determine this is a legitimate warrant from a legitimate governing body with actual jurisdiction in Gotham, New Jersey, The United States of America, North America, Earth, third planet in the Sol system, the Milky Way and not some wackos with big ideas and more power than sense."

"But, it is legit?" Danny Phantom looked confused, as if the concept of this situation being faked had never even occurred to him. Tim stared at him. Phantom stared back.

"Sure, okay, you're telling me it is. But how do I make sure you're actually who you say you are. Anyone can put on a costume and claim whatever they want. Doesn't make it true." Tim said with patience he didn't feel.

"Huh. Uh, I guess?" Phantom said, somehow looking even more confused now. "Um, usually your patron would be here to introduce us, well she is here but she's not able to be seen by the Living. Not even her knights. She's supposed to be able to show herself to you guys but can't because this The Joker guy is messing with her. Taking her power and junk.

"What?" Phantom's eyes lost focus, like he was communicating telepathically. Since it was a total non sequitur Tim figured it likely was telepathy, or something like it.

Tim waited, mentally rifling through his memories to find ways to vet this guy that would satisfy Bruce. Because honestly? Tim was tempted to just let him go and watch what happened.

"Oh! Well, why isn't your prince here, Lady? That should make everything easy— wait, seriously? Of course not, that would be easy. How can they even function? Ugh."

"Excuse me? Who exactly is this prince that I'm supposedly following the orders of?" Tim interjected. He didn't need this unknown likely meta going off on irrelevant tangents. Definitely not now.

"It's- ugh. I'm not allowed to say anything? He's a dude that… you know." Danny flinched and hissed. He glared at nothing, sulking.

"Uh-huh." Tim said. "The prince of Gotham is 'a dude' that 'I know' right. Sure. I know Brucie Wayne is the media's prince of Gotham but he's not actually an actual prince. That's just hyperbole. We don't actually have royalty here."

"I'm from Ohio! Of course I know that's not your Lady's real prince!" Danny scoffed and looked offended.

"Condolences on being Ohian."

"Oh come on! You're from New Jersey!"

"Your point?" Tim asked.

"Look. Just. I am trying to do my job and help you and your patron and your people." Danny snapped.

"And what do you need from me, exactly? You never actually explained. You just read me your warrant." Tim pointed out.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry Cardinal." Danny said, embarrassed. "I just need your okay for me to get him or for you to come with."

Tim hummed and thought. That was it? Tim technically didn't even need to go with him? Tim was, of course. He was much too untrusting to just let this stranger run off in Gotham unsupervised.

"Yeah alright. I'll escort you, don't run off."

"Aw yeah!" Phantom said, immediately flying off. He did at least come back and look embarrassed, staying close to Tim. "Um, sorry. Got excited. Lead the way Sir Cardinal!"

***

That's all I've got so far. Just kinda wrote this to get back into writing. No idea if I'm gonna continue it.

Thank you.

#my writing #emeraldsandamethyst #dc tim drake #dp danny fenton #dpxdc #tim drake is cardinal #warrant officer danny fenton #the joker is a ghost in this au #ghost justice au

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 28 days

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Lol remember the early days when there was an about-even split between people who thought that Gabriel would be Hawkmoth and people who thought Alim Kubdel would be Hawkmoth? Good times, good times. Speaking of Alix’s dad, how would you have had the show pan out with him being Hawkmoth instead?

I wasn't around to see it in real time, but I browse fanfics in rough chronological order starting from the beginning of a fandom, so I'm aware that this theory was a thing because I've read a good portion of the fics that were written pre Origins. (AO3 has a last update filter if you want to pair down your options for a less overwhelming selection or just enjoy fics from before certain plot points came to be.)

While I'm aware of the theory, I'm a little confused as to where it came from. Alim only has two brief appearances in season one. The first is from the start of The Pharaoh. In it, we see Alim telling Jalil that historical artifacts are not meant for testing crackpot theories:

Mr. Kubdel: Jalil, these types of frescoes are almost always the illustration of a legend. They called it a legend for a reason... Jalil: That's what everyone thinks. But I know it's real. I can prove it! Mr. Kubdel: Really? And exactly how are you going to prove it? Jalil: I just need to get my hands on Tutankhamun's scepter and recite the spell! Mr. Kubdel: Are you serious? Don't even think of touching that scepter. I'd lose my job on the spot. It's a priceless historical object! Not a toy! Jalil: Come on, dad! We have to try out the spell! What if Tutankhamun had found out how to bring people back to life? Mr. Kubdel: Listen, Jalil! That's enough! Get your head out of those papyrus scrolls and focus on the real world! This one! (leaves)

And his other appearance is from the start of Timebreaker. In it, Alim gives Alix the watch that is later revealed to be her miraculous:

Alix: They're Marinette's parents. You know, one of the chicks I hang out with? Mr. Kubdel: Yes, I remember. They make the best bread in the whole of Paris. (he notices one of Alix's sneakers) Couldn't you have made more of an effort to dress nicely? Alix: What do you mean? I took off my cap. (points to her cap) Mr. Kubdel: But this is a special day. Alix: Well, it's only a birthday. Mr. Kubdel: No, this is a special birthday (reaches inside his jacket pocket and brings out a watch) This family heirloom was made by one of our ancestors many, many years ago. It's been passed down from one generation to the next, on their 15th birthday. And today, it's your turn to inherit it. Alix: It's pretty sweet, dad. But I've already got a watch, synced up to my smartphone. Mr. Kubdel: But sometimes there's more to things than meets the eye. Let's just say that our ancestor was… (opens the watch) Ahead of his time. (Alix gasps) Of course, I'd understand if you'd rather me buy you a new pair of rollerblades. Alix: No, Dad! I'm stoked to have it. It's awesome, thank you! (her phone rings) Mr. Kubdel: Are your friends waiting? Alix: Yeah, but I don't wanna bail on you. It's cool. Mr. Kubdel: No, no, go ahead. (Alix stands up and grabs her cap) Now, take good care of it.

Based on these two scenes, Alim doesn't read like a villain to me. He reads like some sort of protector. If I had to pick a role for him, it would be the guardian, not the villain. After all, what better way to find missing miraculous than to go into a field that has you informed about all sorts of interesting archaeological discoveries? The fact that he's handing out a miraculous only elevates that potential, especially since Alim was smart enough to give it to the kid who was suited to be a hero while leaving Jali is be his conspiracy-theory-loving self.

Another variation of that is to have him (or Alix's other parent) be the rabbit holder and Alim is passing on the torch to Alix because it's time to start her training. He did say that the watch is handed down through their family and, if there's one miraculous that would need a lot of training, it's the rabbit. Plus a history related field is a perfect fit for a rabbit!

Of course, a villain might also go into a field like curation in order to find miraculous, but I'm really not getting villain vibes here. Part of the reason Gabriel makes such a good villain is that he has a clear, understandable goal: bringing back his wife. Alim has nothing like that, so to make him into a villain, I'd have to come up with a motivation for him and the only thing that I can think of is wanting to bring back his own seemingly missing spouse. That's not a very interesting route, though, since it's just a copy-paste of Gabriel's plot and I'd want Alim to be something unique unless you wanted to swap Adrien and Alix for some reason and just tell the same story with a focus on different characters.

I mean, you could make Alim have a motivation like protecting historical artifacts, but then why would he want the ladybug and the black cat? What wish would he be trying to make? Rewriting history won't protect it! I could maybe see a goal of rewriting history to stop a bunch of atrocities, but any historian would know that undoing a given set of atrocities means massive changes to history and it would likely just lead to different atrocities. You'd have to change how humans work or something equally messed up to make a world without atrocities, which makes it a pretty poor motivation as it would make Alim too cartoonish to really work. He'd feel like such a massive step down from Gabriel's complexity...

All of this is why I don't think that the show should have continued post Gabriel. I just don't see what motivation you can give a villain that isn't either derivative or a cartoonish downgrade. "I want to resurrect my wife" just hits different from "I want to take over the world."

To make Alim a villain in his own right, you'd have to redesign major elements of the show. I think a character with his background would work well as a master thief who collects historical artifacts for his own collection or to sell them so that he can live in luxury, but I can't picture his character sending out akumas to terrorize Paris. Ladybug and Chat Noir would go from action heroes to something more stealthy. Spies who are trying to track down Alim and stop his network, returning artifacts to their rightful owners. Not a bad concept for a show, but too different from Miraculous for me to pretend it's a good concept for a series reboot.

#anon ask

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