#mag writes fic

[ghostmaggie]

girl help my fic isn't writing itself and i want it to

#post #mag writes fic

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

it’s past midnight and i need to sleep but more importantly 

I need to talk about Mags Flanagan from the Hunger Games

Listen. Listen. She might be a minor character who dies halfway through the book she arrives in. But her story is fucking fascinating. 

First of all, since she’s 80 years old during the 75th Annual Hunger Games, she would have been 5 when they started. That means that she’s the only victor we know of that’s guaranteed to have memories of the beginning of the games, not to mention the rebellion itself.

Second, there’s a promotional poster that has a photo of her Victory Tour and the Implications it accidentally has are staggering

her expression and the fact that they dressed her in a military uniform with medals is captivating in its own right but. She’s the victor of the 11th Hunger Games. That doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is.

The 10th Games, featured in The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes, took place in a literal arena. They were the first Games to feature sponsorships and betting, which meant they were the first Games where a tribute’s ability to play to the camera mattered. Lucy Gray, their victor, did not have a victory tour.

Mags Flanagan having the 11th games means that she was the first tribute to know that winning over the audience was a factor from the minute she was Reaped. She was the first tribute with a Victory Tour. It’s likely they she also may have been the first tribute to fight in an arena of the kind that’s shown in the actual Hunger Games trilogy.

So she goes from a witness to the fall of the rebellion and the Capitol’s new horror, to a record-breaking and possibly crowd-favorite Victor. That’s already a lot and we’re only 20% through her life.

She then went on to be a seasoned mentor for Four, possibly shaping it into a Career District. She played the Capitol’s games, while eventually becoming a rebel conspirator.

Speaking of the rebellion-Her district’s victors were far more onboard with fighting against the Capitol than any other Career District. If not for Lyme from District Two (shoutout to Lyme from District Two), Four’s victors would be the only career district victors that actively plotted against the Capitol. Why? When did this start? What was Mags’ hand in it?

I have a million questions about her. Mags Flanagan appreciation please

#The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #mags flanagan #thg renaissance #thg #thg mags #really want to write a fic about her victory tour #it's an interesting era of hunger games history. victors that can all remember a time when the Games never existed #i'm calling it Ticker-Tape Parade

[mortal-kingss]

just a sketch but be on the lookout 🕷️

update: they have been rendered… mwahahahhaah

#jonmartin #jmart #the magnus archives #tma #the magnus archives fanart #martin blackwood #martin tma #web!martin #mag pod #jonathan sims #jon sims #moth jon #fic idea i might just write??? #jon is trying to stop a corruption ritual #martin is too but hes better at it

[galaxysgal]

winter sleepover!! carmy 🔥 indoors and the fire is also for “please make it spicy” 🫢

sex by the fire || carmen berzatto

pairing: carmy x fem reader

warnings: NSFW 18+ p in v unprotected and all that jazz. just soft vanilla sex. and cookies !!

a/n: this is unedited and unbeta’d bc i am so so sleepy. thanks sm for requesting 🫶🏻🫶🏻

a weekend getaway in a secluded little cabin in the woods was exactly the kind of break you needed. fall semester had been hell for you and your boyfriend was well aware of that, which is exactly why he’d booked this trip. sydney was perfectly capable of running the restaurant for a few days, and everyone knew not to call carmy unless it was absolutely necessary. that left the two of you with the peace and quiet you both desperately needed.

the trip had been a complete surprise. carmy had packed your bags for you, picking you up from campus after your last exam with a mischievous grin on his face and whisking you away for the weekend. the cabin was downright adorable, just a single room with a large bed, a little kitchenette, a bathroom off to the side, a couple arm chairs and a TV by a big window, overlooking a gorgeous view of the lake. and of course, the fireplace.

it had taken the two of you a few tries to get the fire going, but now you were rewarded with the gentle warmth and the soft crackling sound as the fire burned steadily behind the iron grate.

you lounged on the bed, snuggled up between the many decorative pillows, waiting patiently as carmy placed a pan of cookies into the stove. he set a timer, tossed the dirty dishes in the sink to be dealt with later, and made his way back to you.

“hey baby,” he whispered, crawling into bed beside you. “are you enjoying y’self?”

you smiled at him, all perfect and pretty with his hair mussed and a little dash of flour lingering on his rosy cheek. “very much so,” you murmured. you closed your book and sat it on the bedside table so you could give your full attention to the man in front of you. his eyes shone with love and mischief in the dancing light of the fire, and you couldn’t help but pull him in for a kiss.

he tasted like the bittersweet chocolate chips he’d used in the batch of cookies he’d made, lips warm and pliant as you deepened the kiss. rough palms landed on your hips, pulling you until you rested in his lap.

“so,” you started, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “you gonna fuck me by the fire, bear?”

his parted lips turned upwards into a little grin, hands already roaming up under the hem of your sweater. “well, sweet girl, when you put it like that,” he laughed softly, bringing you in for another kiss as his fingers began to tug at the little bow on your pajama pants. the knot came undone quickly, and you shuffled around until your pants and sweater had been discarded. you sat atop his thighs in nothing but a pair of pretty lace panties, tugging his shirt over his head until your palms could lay flat against his warm, bare chest.

“my pretty boy,” you cooed, kissing along the column of his throat. your hips rolled against his own, the flannel of his pajama pants soft against the inside of your thighs. he was half hard already, you could feel him rubbing deliciously against your core, and a soft whine escaped your lips as he kissed you again. “want you, carm. c’mon.”

carmy chuckled, lifting you off his hips long enough to discard his pants and boxers in one go. then he was pulling you back, pushing your panties to the side and giving his cock a few quick strokes before lining himself up and sliding in. the stretch was familiar, an easy little burn you’d come accustomed to, but it never failed to draw an obscene moan from your lips.

“shh, tha’s it. good girl.” his hips began to shift up into you in gentle strokes, pushing in deep with a muffled groan against the curve of your shoulder.

you hummed in pleasure, slumping against his chest as he planted his feet on the bed for more leverage. “fuck- ‘s so good,” you whimpered, curling in closer and latching your lips onto his neck. any semblance of composure in your voice dissipated, your words coming out as gentle, high pitched whines. “carmen, oh fuck, carmen!”

“sounds so pretty when ya say it like that,” he said, his words nearly a growl as they came through gritted teeth. “fuckin’ angelic. say it again baby, will ya?”

“carmen, jesus- fucking- carmen, please! ‘m gonna-“ your head felt too heavy to hold anymore, but one strong hand supported your chin to draw you in for a delicate kiss. the contrast was exhilarating, sharp thrusts of his hips balanced against the softness of his lips against yours.

without so much as a warning to carmy, your vision was whiting out and your body was coursing with red hot pleasure. your whole figure shook in his arms, lewd moans turning into softer whimpers as he chased his own climax with erratic thrusts.

“fuck- yeah, that’s my girl. jus’ a li’l more baby, you can do it.” he grunted, fingers digging into your hips as he slammed against you. you fell quiet, leaving nothing but the obscene sounds of sweat slick skin over the gentle roar of the fire.

with one final, deep stroke he came inside of you, lips finding yours in a messy and passionate kiss. you could have stayed there in his arms forever, listening to the fire and his soft breathing as the two of you came down from the high. but of course, nothing lasts forever, and it was only a matter of minutes before the kitchen timer rang out, reminding you of the batch of cookies waiting in the oven.

you hummed, rolling off carmy and collapsing into the fluffy mattress. he smiled down at you, thumb running over your smudged lipstick before leaning in for a quick kiss.

“i’ll get the cookies out, an’ then i’ll get ya cleaned up. that sound good?”

you nodded, too sleepy and sated to form any coherent sentence. your eyes fell closed, listening carefully to the sounds around you. the clang of the oven door. the creak of a cabinet door. a soft hiss of pain, probably from your boyfriend touching the still hot pan. water running in the sink. soft footsteps coming back in your direction.

carmy cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, tossing it haphazardly towards the laundry basket and crawling back into bed beside you. the two of you laid there, naked and happy, with the plate of cookies balanced precariously on your thigh. when the sweets were gone and the fire was dying down, you let your eyes flutter closed as you snuggled into his side.

“goodnight, pretty girl,” carmy murmured, moving the plate to the bedside table and wrapping you securely in his arms.

end.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #mags writes #mags’ winter sleepover #mags’ winter sleepover: fics #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear fx

[hezekiahwakely]

There's something so, so.... I don't know. Sickly anticipatory? About wanting to see the fallout from MAG 200 in somewhere else. Yes it's a good space to make fluff and comfort for the characters yes its healing to imagine them living out the rest of their lives in domestic bliss. But I can't stop thinking about the fallout. The pain of that betrayal and misunderstanding. The worst it could bring out in both of them.

I want to see them have to figure out how to live with themselves, and make an effort to love each other and come back to each other over and over again. I want to see them heal from their experiences, but I want it to be realistic. I want it messy and ugly and relapsing and I want it to hurt before they come out on the other side.

#tma #somewhere else #mag 200 #jmart #the magnus archives #im so full of feelings about this but not in any state to write fic #so you get this #angst for the soul

[meownotgood]

any aki fics in your drafts ? :)

oh I have... too many... most of them are just small scraps I'll probably never truly finish, but the current draft I was working on (before bg3 brainworms possessed me) was my elf prince aki x witch reader fic...

it's about 10k words right now! definitely will resume working on it when I've finished a few more tidbits for bg3. I'm experimenting with making it my first true multi chapter fic (under the influence was more of a super long one shot just split up...)

basically aki is the prince of a well established kingdom and reader is a witch, magic has been outlawed so their relationship is forbidden... I'll share a small bit of it for you...

There's a man leant on the door, your door, clutching his side. His clothes are simple, pants and a tunic with long sleeves, nothing you'd place as out of the ordinary. Knights from the kingdom would be wearing armor covered in motifs of the royal family's crest, and even commoners would most likely be donning a necklace or a pin or something that'd identify them. You glance him up and down, and he seems to have none of that. 

Surrounding the hand he has pressed into his side, the off-white of his tunic is stained a dark red you can notice even with only the stars and moon to illuminate him. You feel an ache twist in your gut. His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe. His hair is dark and shoulder-length, tied in a half-up style, a small ponytail on the back of his head. Poking out from his hair is a pair of distinct pointed ears. They're decorated by an array of studs and hoops, with black, star shaped earrings hanging from his lobes. 

You watch his jaw tighten as he speaks, the bridge of his nose in a knot, "Please, I don't mean any harm, I was-" He winces, sucking in a breath through his teeth, "I was training in the woods, and suddenly became overwhelmed by devils- I won't be a bother, I only want to rest until the storm clears. And then, I'll be on my way. I swear it." 

Devils? 

Wait. Your gaze flickers to his expression, pinched slightly as he tries to hide his discomfort. Then, to his side, his hand pressed to an obvious wound, blood staining his fingertips and speckling the sleeve of his shirt. This is your fault. 

When you head into the woods to forage, you cast your distraction spell on the opposite side to lure demons over to it, giving you temporary safety. Sometimes there are stragglers, but most of the demons will head towards the area, drawn by the rune without their control. 

This man sounds like he's telling the truth, and he's clearly injured. If he came here alone to train, he must've been expecting a fight he could win. But you sent every single demon in the area to one location; a risky spell, but effective as long as you know where it's been cast. He didn't. 

Even after the spell had been dispersed, even once the rain came down and the demons ran to hide in their holes, there would still be a ton of them, all in one place. Hell, as far as you're concerned, he's lucky to be standing. He could have suffered a whole lot worse than just a single injury. 

But what if there's more wounds you can't see? 

You take a step away from the door. The rain continues to drum overhead, and you hear the man briefly stumble, mumbling a swear to himself through gritted teeth. Your heart is pounding, and you don't know what to do. 

You shouldn't let him in. You shouldn't help him, shouldn't heal him, you should pretend no-one's home and leave him be without meddling. You know that, and yet you can't help but tell yourself you need to help him, you can't shake this feeling that you're the only one who can. 

There isn't anyone else out here, not for miles. He won't make it out in this storm, and if he leaves the protection of the cottage he'll surely be attacked again. From what you can see, he doesn't even have a weapon on him, and even if he tries to run you doubt he'd make it far. 

It's been a while since you've last met or spoken to someone, you haven't since those knights a long while ago. You hear a faint knock at the door once more, and your lips part, although you aren't sure what to say. Ultimately, you're silent, but you shuffle over to the kitchen in a hurry, stumbling through cabinets to search for what medicine you have left. 

Although you shouldn't, you can't help but care about him, even if you hardly know him. You can't let him in, that much is true. He walked over the mushroom circle with no problem, so you're assuming he can't detect spells. Regardless though, your cottage is covered in magical items, in spellbooks that were supposed to be burned with the rest of them. And you aren't the best at keeping your cool, if you say one wrong thing and he somehow discovers you're a mage, his injuries will be the least of your concerns. 

You'll give him some standard medicine, nothing infused with magic, just some herbs and some ointment for his wound. Then, you'll tell him you can't accept visitors, and he must be on his way. That's the most you can do for him. 

You gather the herbs, the ointment, and some bandages, placing them all in a small, spare pouch you found on the counter. You walk over to the door, hands shaking as you attempt to gather the courage to open it. You'll be fine, he won't know a thing, you'll be just fine. 

"Okay," The man's smooth voice starts from behind the door, he sounds slightly out of breath, "I don't think anyone is home, so I'm… I'm going to try to come in now. I'm not robbing you, just need to get the hell out of this rain- Please, don't kill me." 

Shit. 

The door unlocks in a hurry then, you fling it open and the man sways forward, almost tripping once what he was leaning on disappears. He's rather tall, even taller when he stands up straight. Deep blue eyes meet yours and you must be making a face, because he's quickly making amends. 

"Thank the Gods. It's okay," He says, he gives you a reassuring look, but his skin is pale and he seems lightheaded, "It isn't as bad as it looks, I'll be… fine, I'm…" 

With one more stumble, his eyelids flutter, his knees buckle and he falls into you, giving you just enough time to catch him. You squeak in surprise, he's already limp in your arms and you're barely able to hold up his weight. Rain pelts the ground, and in between the rhythmic drone, tiny droplets of blood slowly splatter against the floor of your cabin with a plip, plip. 

Damn. And you were hoping to eat your stew while it was still hot. 

also including this small part even tho it doesn't have anything to do with anything because... aki's cute when he's introducing himself...

"I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?" He starts, a hand extended out for you to shake, "You can call me Aki, I'm glad to be acquainted." 

You'll allow him to stay, just long enough so he can recover, and then he'll have to be on his way. He can't discover you're a mage. A witch, as the kingdom would call it. If even a hint of suspicion arises, you have a potion that erases memory in case of emergencies — Once infused with a hint of your magic, he'll forget everything about you, up to the moment you'd met. 

You won't give him the chance to be suspicious in the first place. 

"Nice to meet you." 

You don't take his hand. Instead, you give him a once over, and then you stride over to the fireplace, tossing in another log from the pile. 

Aki lowers his hand slowly, placing it in his lap. "Could I know your name as well? I'd like to know who I should be thanking for saving my life." 

"I'm going to bed," You head towards your bedroom, and you take one last look at him over your shoulder as your hand closes around the doorknob, "I'll be waking up early tomorrow to gather herbs for your medicine, I'll try not to wake you when I do. I suggest you get some rest, you won't regain your strength without it." 

"Goodnight," Aki murmurs, before you can close your bedroom door behind you. "Sleep well." 

#the fic is veryyyy self indulgent #and I haven't quite decided yet if I want to include any smut #either way anything spicy isn't the focal point #it's very much slow burny romance #in a fun fantasy setting lol #but isn't my writing always extremely self indulgent.... #by the way I haven't edited this small section much #but feel free to let me know what you think..... #ask mags

[thunderjackal]

WOAH GUYS LOOK I WROTE ANOTHER FIC HOW CRIMINAL OF ME. anyway the TMA hyperfixation has set in guys prepare for more of these, anyway here mroe about the fic

Like Real People Do -- G -- 4954 words -- Complete

“Statements huh?” Martin said with a small noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “Even when you're sick? You do know what a break is- right Jon?” The archivist opened his eyes, shifting in his position into an awkward pose so he could look at Martin, “Despite popular belief, I do in fact know what a break is.” He went silent for a moment, before continuing, “I think- I’ve been away from them for too long, it’s taking its toll. I thought if I-” “You thought if you could read a few it would make you feel better?” Martin finished for him, voice kind, “That Ceaseless Watcher needs to calm down, you’re sick and can't help it.” --- OR Jon is a little sick, has statement withdrawals and is overall the most pathetic man in existence. Martin comes to check in on him

#TJ writes stuff #jmart #jonmartin #tma #tma fanfic #tma fic #the magnus archives #magpod #the mag pod #teaholding

[imikhailo]

(first time doing something like this 🙈)

prompt: you never asked @galladrabbles @arrowflier

——————————

mickey groans getting up off the floor to open the door.

when he opens the door he's faced with the most gorgeous redhead he has ever seen. 

he rolls his eyes.

the redhead smirks. "Hey, Mick."

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I came to pay you a visit."

"A visit uh? 

"A visit means that you just passing by. and also means you gonna leave'." again, mickey thinks

"Are you going to invite me in or not?"

a sigh. mickey gives up. "Do you want to come in and have a beer?"

"I Thought you’d never ask." the redhead responds with a big dork smile

——————————

#HEY 106 WORDS??? I almost got it #please let me know what you think #this could perhaps be part of a story that I want to create but I don't have that much courage to write it bc you know don't have the skill #but I'm going to try my hand at galladrables from time to time to see if I can improve little by little at least #this was super fun btw ☺ #galladrabbles #gallavich #mag writes #<- ???? idk #fic rec

[heavensbeehall]

my elaborate mags headcanon

eta: lol i have edited this like five times to add details that I forgot.

Sixteen-year-old Mags Flanagan lives with her elderly grandmother who suffers from dementia, one-armed uncle (he lost it in the war but made the mistake of telling Peacekeepers a shark bit him) and cousin and is Reaped for the 11th Annual Hunger Games. She strongly suspects the Capitol-loyal Mayor of choosing children from Rebel families on purpose (he is naive in thinking eventually the Capitol will be appeased). Her Uncle feels incredibly guilty about her predicament. Her lobsterman cousin must race back from waters near District 13 (aka Maine) to look after the grandmother who should not be left alone. We learn the people of District 4 have always known District 13 was not destroyed (they can see it from their boats).

The small, redheaded girl has little hope of winning, especially compared to her tall, athletic District Partner, Tack, who is surprisingly easy to talk to and willing to team-up with Mags. She had thought him a bit of a jock. Tack's family were also Rebels and he has A Lot of Opinions on how the Capitol uses terror to keep the districts down. He would prefer to die at Mags' hands, or any other tribute than the muttations like the snakes that got Coral the year previous. He knows several District 4 kids who had nightmares about the snakes. He is very high minded, so obviously he will die. (Tack is blonde and has a polisci major vibe.)

Mags is more like Katniss in that she just wants to get back to her grandma. (She's old and might wander off a cliff!) But she does see his points.

Locked in cages, the tributes are interviewed by "the Gamemaker boy" (Snow), and Mags watches him very carefully as he charms some of the other tributes, particularly the female ones. Mags is, for once, grateful to be a lesbian because she forms a bond with Tigris, who is hired to make the tributes look presentable for the interviews, instead--both queer, both raised by their grandmothers and close to a cousin. She comes to realize Snow and Gaul never intend to stop the Hunger Games. She sees darkness in him and thinks he distrusts women (reader will know this is baggage from tbosas), thinking they are manipulative.

The Tributes are thrown into the ampitheater arena (same as 10 and prior) but it has been gutted and circus-themed, then filled with freakish muttations. There are different "rings" where different mutts are located. Mags and her partner work together and survive the lions, bears and--finally--an electric eel (as seen at the end of TBOSAS movie) which Mags evades mainly due to her ability to hold her breath for several minutes thanks to years of freediving in District 4. She is greatly affected by Tack's death.

When she emerges from the arena, she finds Snow made himself (the Ringmaster)--not the tributes--the star of the show, for political advantage. Mags is rarely allowed to speak in public--though her image is widely used for publicity purposes (see Capitol Couture) though Mags thinks it is Tigris who really made her striking. But she has a falling out with Tigris because she takes a dim view of Coriolanus, whom Tigris still thinks will stop the Games once he has more power.

Mags returns to 4 determined to spend as many good moments as she can with her grandmother (who no longer recognizes her, but that is okay because they are together) and hopes to prepare the children of 4 for the ongoing "forever war." She speaks out about her experience in the Capitol at events in 4 and eventually over the shipboard radios (mags basically goes on a podcast). Most people in 4 don't have TVs. Snow has her silenced with a poison that immobilizes much of her face. She helps her cousin run for Mayor in the hopes of finding a "better way" to chose kids for the Hunger Games--though she does not think any child should go only knows that it's not going to stop.

Slight Mags/Tigris but it doesn't work out. Epilogue set after the 70th Games, where Annie's disorientation reminds her of her grandmother. Annie very much wanted to be like the Mags of the posters the Capitol produced when she volunteered. But Mags knows that version of Mags was just an illusion. And Mags understands why the death of Annie's district partner nearly destroyed her. Themes about perception and reality, dementia, psychotic breaks etc.

Even though Mags' grandmother didn't know who she was at the end, it didn't matter so long as she felt safe and happy. Annie and Finnick give her a sense of family that she thought she had lost when her wife (who was not Tigris but that is okay) was killed by Snow. She is happy in this moment.

#mags flanagan #district 4 #i started writing this as a fic #but sigh #i know i will never finish #odesta #finnick odair #annie cresta #tigris snow

[ghostmaggie]

I can only do substantive work on my big big fic when I have access to the actual episodes/transcripts to make sure I'm staying on track, but what I CAN do in any environment is painstakingly reorder and identify the corresponding scene/relevance of every song in my fic playlist. In a spreadsheet!

#this will be included in the author notes for the joy and perusal of myself and probably one (1) other person #mag writes fic #for anyone following along on my mental breakdown at home #this is for my ndcw season 1 redux fic 🥰🥰🥰 #ever so slowly we are getting there!!! #i would love to beat season 4 but no promises ok #post #im thru episode 14 more or less also! #also spoilers bc im going to beat this statement to death but #this is the biggest longest fucking monster of a thing ive ever writteb

[mmmpasta]

If there's any games I really want to be made into a book is Finnicks, not only was he the youngest winner but we would also see and new district and what it was like to be a career. Haymitchs games would be interesting too but I feel like there's more of a story to tell with Finnicks. Mags was his mentor too so like her games could be incorporated into Finnicks story, a 2 for 1. I also have a theory that if Mags did remember Lucy Grey she might have told Finnick eventually, the ultimate secret.

#the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #finnick odair #id love to write a fic about this but cause ive so many ideas #mags flanagan

[littleladymab]

Characters: Grand Magnificent, Ballad Reverie, Morning's Observation, Signet Tags: Twilight Mirage (season), Mirror Verse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent

Summary:

Grand pulls his tablet out of his pocket and begins to flip through the contents in it. Briefing notes for this exact meeting, and previous meetings. Sketches for outlandish designs and notes for his original creation for Independence. The one he was supposed to hand over to Kitcha Kana. The ones he did give to Kitcha Kana in exchange for Fourteen’s freedom. They have updated notes and improvements that Grand had not done originally. Ones he might have, if he had taken Independence’s offer back on Volition. And suddenly, terribly, it all makes sense.

Secret Samol gift for @random-blogger-also-a-fangirl and I had soooo much fun writing for Twilight Mirage again!

#secret samol #friends at the table #a lil miss fic #lil miss writings #fatt fic.... it's where i belong #does grand mag deserve dear hunter lyrics? .... debatable

[galaxysgal]

hi! i'd like to ask prompt 🍽  ─  prepare the christmas dinner together  with single dad!carmy x younger reader (maybe in her mid 20s idk)

thank you <33 i love your writing

michellin star on the tree || carmen berzatto

pairing: single dad carmy x younger reader

warnings: literally none. not even a swear.

a/n: this is so so cute and i love carmy sm oh my god. implying that the reader is in grad school so like early/mid twenties.

heavy snowfall and harsh winds have shrouded the city of chicago in a gentle silence. you collect the extra plates that had been for sydney, natalie, richie and the rest and with one strong arm around bella, you lift the plates back into their place in the china cabinet.

the smells from the kitchen are delightful. ham, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, all of it is so enticing. carmen's been in the kitchen all afternoon, cooking up a storm while you and bella had played in the snow until it got too thick and too cold for you both.

now you're safe and sound inside. after you'd changed bella into dry clothes and while you showered, the snow had continued to fall harder and harder. by the time you were done, skin dewy and hair pleated into neat braids, there was a severe weather advisory in place. just like that, your turn to host christmas dinner was effectively canceled.

bella had cried at first, of course, because what's christmas to a four-year-old without family and gifts? but you'd managed to calm her down with a cup of warm cocoa and a call to sydney, who promised to come by and play as soon as the weather allowed her.

bella says your name softly, tugging at your sleeve as you search the kitchen for flashlights and batteries. "whats up kiddo?" you ask.

"'m hungry," she whines, and you chuckle in response.

you're about to tell her the food's almost done, until carmy's taking his daughter right from your arms. "you're always hungry," he says, sitting her on the counter and tickling her tummy.

"daddy!" bella shreiks, kicking her little feet in self defense. "that tickles!"

"gotta tickle all the hungry outta ya, kid," carmy tells her.

you stand there looking on at the two of them. carmen, and his little angel. he's such a good dad to bella. it warms your heart to see him like this, all giggly and warm, loving in the most pure sense of the word.

when the giggles have subsided and bella's wiggled off the counter, carmy pulls you to his side. you rest your head against his, leaning on him and looking over the assortment of food he's prepared.

"i'm sorry you did all this for nothing," you tell him.

and of course he just shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "not f'nothing, baby, for you. you work so hard at school, thought the least i could do for my little phd candidate was cook this big ol' christmas dinner."

"for me?" you ask softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

"all f'you, sweetheart. you an' bella, my girls." he hugs you tighter, pulling you so that your chest is against his own. "you're so good to us both. this is my way of sayin' thank you."

end.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fluff #mags writes #mags' winter sleepover #mags' winter sleepover: fics #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #fx the bear

[landothemuppet]

tom holland x fem!reader

You got back from work, you were looking for Tom, he wasn’t in bedroom, kitchen or bathroom. Then you hear a guitar sound in study room, as he was in pj, practice guitar. you watch him as you listen, after that, you came to come in as he saw you came by. You were wrapping your arms around his neck more, saying that he did good, tom ask you about your day, you responded, as you deeply love to wrap your arms around his neck, he simply love to cuddling with you, you want to have passionate kisses on his lips, as he lift you up to go bedroom and cuddle.

(hope you write it, thanks and have a good day)

Home Sweet Home - Tom Holland x reader request: yes pairing: tom holland x reader warning: fluff word count: 630 words n/a: hello, i'm glad you asked this because i needed it so much. It's very therapeutic to be honest. I'm not really proud of it. It's not proofread and it's not that long but it's a good start to come back again, i guess. I hope you'll like it and it will make you feel exactly how you asked.

It seemed like your head was going to explode after the grueling day you had just passed. All you wanted was to be able to take off your shoes and snuggle up against your boyfriend. This kind of mundane evening when you’re an established couple. Mundane certainly, but very comforting. The rattling of your keys in the lock caught the attention of an inhabitant of the house and you were greeted by Tessa’s lovingly playful figure, her warm eyes and her sweet mouth pushed you to greet her with tenderness for several long seconds. 

Your gaze then landed in the living room but you found no one there. You headed to the kitchen to discover a single cup of tea, right next to the sink. You pinched your lips, cursing gently your boyfriend. But you couldn’t blame him, you had this habit of keeping your cup all day and only putting it in the dishwasher once you were sure you weren’t using it again for the rest of the day. Tom did exactly the same thing. "Thomas?" you asked after him. You walked up the stairs to the bedroom, where Tom often read his scripts, highlighter and pen by hand so that he could write annotations about the intention to put in his lines. When you walked through the door frame, your eyebrows frowned. Still no trace of your boyfriend.  "Tom? Babe?" you requested again. But still no answer.

That’s when you heard the melodious sound of the guitar, and you instinctively went to the room that was your desk. 

He was there. More beautiful than ever, in his comfortable pajamas. You stood there quietly until his gaze came upon you and missed a note. You giggled while shaking your head before walking towards him. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders and you were tucking your nose into his neck when you felt Tom stop playing.

"Please continue. You play really well"

Your boyfriend smiled and began to play without thinking, your favorite song. Your arms tightened against him, touched by the attention. 

"How was your day, my love"

“Exhausting, i’m glad to come back home and cuddle you”

Tom couldn’t help smiling stupidly, just as crazy in love with you as you were with him. He turned his head to kiss the top of your skull, while you were still nestled in his neck, listening to the sweet melody produced by his fingers pinching the strings of the guitar. There were some imperfections but you did not pay attention...because the man played an instrument while giving you the attention you asked. Could it be more perfect ? 

He could. Tom started whispering the lyrics to the song and once again you snuggled deeper against him, causing him to giggle a little. The position was not the most comfortable but feeling your boyfriend against you, discreetly inhaling the scent of his shampoo, it was the cure for all your ailments. 

The melody slowly slowed down and you still felt a kiss on your skull.

"How about you go to bed and use me as a human hot water bottle?"

"Would I get kisses?"

"All the kisses you need, my love"

You gently nodded the head and Tom put down his guitar before turning slightly towards you. You had to loosen your embrace so he could encircle you with his arms. His arms went under your thighs and he carried you as you chuckled in that romantic gesture. You raised your head to admire the chocolate eyes of your fantastic boyfriend. 

"I love you so much, Thomas"

"Not as much as I love you."

He smiled at you and put his lips against yours as he walked confidently to the door of the bedroom where you spent the evening hugging.

#mags is back at writing #tshwritersnet #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff

[isocrime]

Isozyme, your hrpf is so tight and snippy, you pace it all so well. Yoy have the plot so well tied to each scene. My question for you is, how do you do it,? Is it a matter of planning the end to end story before starting to writing? Thank you for your ficts!

Thank you!! This is a good question and very gratifying because one of the things I aim for with my fics is to always be compulsively readable no matter where in the story you’re at.

I don’t actually know the story from end-to-end at a high level of detail when I start out. Usually I know about how long the story will take to tell, the setup, and then the next couple things after that. As I write I sort of build the track ahead of me, so I’ll often have a detailed outline for the next scene, a couple bullet points for a handful of scenes after that, and then a sort of general vibe for anything farther away. (With a few exceptions, like I knew Matthew was going to get a supportive phone call from Sid in LMLAY for ages and ages before I finally got to write it.)

Basically my pacing philosophy is that every scene should have a job to do, and ideally also have some side hustles, and I sort of build it up layer by layer as I come up with each upcoming scene.

Let’s spitball a scene as an example. Hypothetically let’s give me a mcmattdrai wip where they’re all training with Scary Gary and in the scene in question Matthew is trying to figure out if Leon is sleeping with Connor. Maybe they’re waiting for the elevator together after a workout, that’s a good setting for two people who sort of know each other to have a stilted conversation. Matthew can joke that his legs are too tired to take the stairs and Leon can complain that he doesn’t know where the stairs are yet (this establishes their different levels of comfort in the setting in addition to giving some character notes). Leon probably also looks hot and sweaty, Matthew can notice that several times during the scene to amp up the sexual tension while he asks Leon awkward questions. A nice thing about elevators is that they have a timer, so I get to control when the elevator arrives and cuts off their conversation; probably right around when Leon reveals that he’s not sleeping with Connor (one mystery tied up, that’s the big job done by the scene) but now Matthew wants to know why Leon’s not sleeping with Connor (another mystery opened). They could keep talking about that inside the elevator but I don’t like that because I think that mystery should stretch out into the next couple of scenes, so to fix that (and add comedy) just as the elevator door is starting to close Connor can obliviously run up and join them. Now Matthew can’t ask Leon any more questions about Connor but he can observe the two of them together and start making some theories. However now that I have Connor in the scene, I should give him something to do from his plotline as well. Maybe I can make him talk about his struggles with a fundraiser for sick kids he’s trying to organize. Naturally Matthew volunteers Leon to help, which leads to Leon volunteering Matthew to also help as revenge, and that leads me neatly into the next scene (3 idiots struggling at event planning together in between their workouts).

I don’t know anything else about this fake story or where it’s going, but the scene is still dense and feels connected to a plot because all the elements are doing some kind of work on behalf of the story. And that’s pretty much how I do it when I’m actually writing something with a lot of plot — come up with what the main goal of a scene is, and then while achieving that goal try to have the stuff happening in the background work to move along side plots and set up the next thing.

Pacing is like a tricky little puzzle and it’s hard but I think it’s worth it when the work pays off; very glad you’re enjoying my hockey fics!

#isozyme answers #i learned how to write trying to sell original scifi/fantasy short stories to online magazines and the pacing there has to be super tight #so that definitely informs my fic #the pro mags pay by the word and their budgets are small #they want a full story with worldbuilding and characters and deep themes in 5k or less #so you're really packing for a 2 week trip in one carry on bag and a purse #every pair of socks better be justifying the space it takes up #no paragraphs just wandering around vaguely adding to the atmosphere #do a job or get cut for wordcount! #i'm such a hardass control freak about writing don't take this as advice on the only way to do things #you could also be normal and not freak out about adverbs

[meownotgood]

Under the influence pt2 in January 2024???

that's the plan anon... I'm in full writers mode, I've been working hard and I think a january / february release is very possible...

and with how things are looking the second chapter will likely be in the 50k words zone all by itself, and it's like 80% smut so that's a whole lot of aki fucking LOL

#would one say too much aki fucking? no. never. #I have plans to beef out the ending more though #and the epilogue will tie up the rest of the loose ends #do not take a singular thing I say to heart though #because if life gets in the way it might take a little longer #I will say though that I am writing it's just taking forever because this shit is long af!!!! #I'd never abandon the fic or give up #and I've been enjoying writing so much recently... I'm very happy #I want to write whenever I have the time and energy!! #ask mags