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#not that ive ever actually written fanfiction

thewaywardfangirl · 1 year

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Listen. I just remembered the freud episode, and I really think we should write about the Henry and George more. Shout out to the person who recently wrote a lil thing for it on here

#murdoch mysteries #like #how did i forget about that #theres so many opportunities for fanfics everywhere and if i wasnt getting destroyed by mental health id be right there #not that ive ever actually written fanfiction

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whatitshouldvebeen · 1 month

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Sometimes I wonder if any of the people associated with the creation of any of the characters I've written fanfiction for have seen my writing and thought yeah, that's whatitshouldvebeen.

#daydreaming that senpai noticed me #I dont want real life attention I want the people who created the characters I write for to like what I wrote #if anyone who ever made anything Ive written a fanfic for actually said they liked it my heart might explode with joy #fanfiction #wattpad #ao3

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cauldronoflove · 2 months

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last three lines tag game

tagged by my beloved bec @formosusiniquis whose tag games are the only reason i've been writing during this season of writers block and to whom i owe many thanks. i hadnt written anything in over a week so heres something i just dropped into a star trek enterprise wip i'm rotating in my mind all the time

rules: post the last three lines you've written and if has been over a week, write something new in a wip

There's the unpleasant sensation of hot, dry wind on his skin, buffeting his outline, staining him into some horizon, but just as soon as it comes it's gone and he's sprawled on his back in a klaxon-drenched hall. It takes a second for all his faculties to make the trip, he guesses, because there's a noted moment of dampness on all his senses, and then the overhead lights crash into view like the sudden oncoming of an eclipse, blinding him in the split second before he can throw a hand up. His headache from the day before--can he even call that yesterday?--pukes and rallies against whatever had been in that, ah, gentleman's hypo.

"Think this's what they call the end of the line, pal. See, you still got all your fingers and toes."

Trip gets now why old man Perkins, who lived next to his mama and daddy Trip's whole childhood, always complained about his smug tone.

open tag to my mutuals mwah 💖

#this could be the best fic ive ever written if id actually write it is the thing #personal #my fanfiction

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atlas-affogato · 8 months

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YIPPEE!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳

I've officially hit my word count goal I set when I started this fic. Its crazy to think I have so much to say about these idiots but I sure do love them a lot, and this story is my BABY!!

Does that mean the fic is done? No! Not even close! its fine I'm fine I'm perfectly sane There's a lot I've still got to work out, mostly the more plot heavy things, but we are getting there! Closer and closer every day!

I never thought I was capable of writing a story of this caliber but here we are, its incredible to see and I wouldn't be able to do it without everyone here on tumblr in the fandom.

Thank yall SO much for liking my silly little headcanons, sending asks and asking about my writing. Yall have no idea how much it means to me that anyone cares about my opinions so the deepest, most heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone else in this fandom!!! I love yall 🥲❤❤

If even one person reads a single thing I've written, I'll have considered my writing a success. So thank you ❤

#i love this fic so much its actually insane i love it so much #its my baby my magnum opus #the longest thing ive ever written #time will only tell how long it actually ends up being #jackie chan adventures #jca #jca enforcers #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #jca enforcers fanfiction #jca fanfiction #jca finn #jca chow #jca ratso

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themoostking · 2 years

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Seven Sentence Sunday

You'll never believe it, but @goldenretrieverfirefighters tagged me in SSS again. Luckily for everyone, they remembered that I actually wrote this week. So y'all get to see raw footage from the best idea I've ever had in my life.

There was a shift to their left and an ominous scuttling noise echoed through the abandoned mall. Eddie stiffened beside him, gaze darting toward the sound, his eyes narrowed. The scuttling came again.

Thwink, thwink.

It sounded like cheap plastic hitting poorly carpeted concrete floors. Harsh and muffled.

Thwink, thwink.

Twhink, thwink.

This time the scuttling came from behind them, and Buck whipped around, squinting in the dark at half-filled boxes and overturned trash bins.

Thwink, Thwink.

He spotted a glint of light as something darted across the floor. Swallowing harshly, he tugged on Eddie’s arm, nodding his head towards where he saw the movement.

Thwink, thwink.

It was getting closer. Eddie slowly lifted his flashlight in question. Buck nodded. The beam filtered through the dingy air, passing over broken glass, scattered toys, a pair of kids light up shoes, and a tennis ball. One of the toys moved, its eyes blinking lazily. Buck shifted toward it, catching a familiar glint of light.

“Holy shit.”

“Is that?” Eddie inched closer

“Yeah its a-'' Buck was interrupted as the toy launched itself forward with a rapid Thwink thwink. He and Eddie shuffled back, as the toy opened its mouth, releasing an awful robotic yell.

“FUUUR-BY!”

They turned and ran.

I'm tagging anyone who wants to participate <3

#im not saying this is the best thing ive ever written but it definitely is #moost writes (and cries)#moostie does sss again and cries #i been tagged so many a time so now im gonna commit some fanfiction criiiiiimmmmeee #im in a mood ignore the weird tags #9 1 1 disaster au fic #yes this is actually part of that fic #the one i mapped out completely and tagged a few scenes and then completely lost inspiration for #seven sentence sunday #this is supposed to be a serious fic but i know this scene is gonna be ridiculous in a beautiful way

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daenystheedreamer · 1 year

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re: Ur love life, speaking as a dude, nothing would be better than a handie after getting infodumped on, but on the flipside that dude is gonna reallllly think ur the one if you commit, our hearts are so tender that way

oh yeah and he's liked me since high school (i think since the equivalent of american freshman year?) so i dont wanna string him along.... im only here on holiday and im moving back home (literal entire other country) after a month and there's absolutely no way im doing a long distance relationship lmao sexting is too funny to me.. also i DO listen to him talk about baron harkonnen and the bene jesserit and the sand worms so the infodumping debt is definitely paid

#yinnie oversharing #theres way more insane backstory but i will NOT go into it further than this i dont need IRLs connecting the dots....#and realising wendawyllawillow is me and that i have written fucking mcu fanfiction 😭#not asoiaf #nah actually i bet asha has gone through exactly this situation #on the sexting thing ill just say uh. ive seen his sexts with other people and its literally the nerdiest most hilarious shit ive ever read #i could never take it seriously

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drchucktingle · 1 month

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Where is the best place to preorder Bury Your Gays? What is of most benefit to you?

i know other types of media have given the trot of preorders a bad way, but for publishing books i cannot even begin to tell you buckaroos HOW IMPORTANT PREORDERS ARE WHEN SUPPORTING AUTHORS YOU CARE ABOUT. i mean HECK preorders are so important i even wrote three dang tinglers about it

basically preorders are what publishers use to determine how much financial backing they will give a book for advertising and book tours and all that, but that is only PART of this way. BOOK STORES also use a preorder equation to determine how much shelf space to give a book. your preorder does not just mean YOU get a book for yourself, but basically means you are making room for someone ELSE to get the book in a store by putting another copy on a shelf

that is why it is better to put in a preorder instead of just saying 'oh i will just remember to buy myself a copy on the day it comes out'

LASTLY preorders are how books get onto bestseller lists because all the orders leading up to your book release date COUNT AS FIRST WEEK SALES. something like new york times bestseller list is close to impossible trot without preorders

think of it like a handsome surfing bigfoot trying to ride a wave. it is one thing to actually ride on the wave, but what matters most is that initial moment when you GET UP THERE and actually have the strength to pull yourself up when the wave starts. PREORDERS are the climbing up part

NOW LETS GET DOWN TO YOUR SPECIFIC QUESTION

first of all ANY preorder is great. what matters most as far as bestseller lists is actually FORMAT. the best thing you can order for an author is not ebook or audiobook, it is HARDCOVER. personally i am an audiobook buckaroo myself so please understand you should order whatever format you want, but technically speaking the answer is HARDCOVER

next is WHERE do you order. this answer is pretty dang cool actually. the best place to order for the sake of author is your LOCAL INDIE BOOKSTORE. if you MUST order at a big timer website that is fine, but many bestseller lists are weighted towards indie bookstores

so to sum it up. the technical BEST WAY to support chuck with 'bury your gays' is to PREORDER a HARDCOVER from an INDIE BOOKSTORE.

thank you for your question but before you go trotting along i would like to add one more thing

all art is important. when we create things they serve as stepping stones for us to move along our journey as artists and creators on this timeline. i have so much love for every book i have made, from POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY MY OWN BUTT to CAMP DAMASCUS

but i have to say with deep sincerity in my way, BURY YOUR GAYS is something special. i absolutely believe that if you care about fandom, or creation, or love, or fanfiction, or supernatural, or the future of media, or asexual buckaroos, or gay buckaroos, or bi buckaroos or any queer buckaroos, you will love this book. i promise buckaroo

it is the best thing i have ever written, and i think it is going to bend this timeline in incredible ways. i would like you to trot with me into the future, since we have already trotted this far together. i cannot say this enough: this one is special, and the timelines we create from here are going to make the whole dang world look up in surprise and say 'where the heck did that come from?'

so if you are even CONSIDERING preordering, take a moment a do it.

if you are one of those buckaroos who says 'chuck tingle is my favorite author ive never read' then now is your moment

lets trot buckaroos. thank you for reading and thank you for constantly proving to me that love is real

preorder BURY YOUR GAYS here

#love is real #bury your gays #buckaroo lifestyle

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dapper-lil-arts · 26 days

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So uh. My freelance work here is kind of dying.

I thought i'd keep my long-term followers on the know-how, so i might as well write about my current circumstances here, give y'all an update, so to speak.

So, for several reasons, most of them not even my fault, i've been getting less and less commissions, almost none, actually, and the ones i get are usualy on the cheaper side, which is bad concidering that this is my livelihood, commission money pays my bills, my groceries, and my taxes, and now i sure as hell am strugling to imagine this will sustain me for long. Twitter is a sinking ship ever since elon went over, Specificaly for people like me. I had just broken into 12k followers there, a huge milestone for me, and then i got shadowbanned, and for the last few months i've gotten *nothing*. It's completely dead, i'm stagnated there, all my arts are censored, and there's no way for me to undo it or fix it, and so i've gotten less and less comms out there, which sucks because its the only reason i was even on that stupid site. Here on tumblr, meanwhile, the CEO went on a massive transphobic streak, and a lot of lgbt folk (which composed a lot of my following,) decided to jump ship, and i sure as hell dont blame them, but sadly that's more potential costumers that bailed, and there's no proper website to go to. Anywhere i'd go, i'd be starting from scratch again, which would be utterly disheartening and frustrating, and there no website that is kind to artists, with no algorythim, that also have a messaging system (the latter being ESSENTIAL to the way i do comms) So i'm kind of stuck. I just. have nowhere to go, and nothing to do. And last but not least, my own fault, I've just been drawing and creating what *I* specificaly want, on an hedonistic streak this year. That's why theres so much pony bs on this blog now, and why i was straight up posting poetry a while back, and have written hundreds upon hundreds of fanfiction pages in the last few months; Which, unfortunately, is a terrible business decision if your intent is making money. Which I surely should have prioritized, but in the end, its not up to me, its up to the costumers... So now i'm a bit stuck. I've enjoyed the things ive drawn and written more than anything i've ever done, and yet, i've never been less successful on the actual business side. I'm still considering my venues, my possibilities, but there's not many. Trying to get a job would certainly pull me away from creation, and i'd hate it regardless of what it was, and on another venue, theres no guarantee that going back to furry titties would bring me money.

and that's whats heartbreaking about it too. no matter how much effort i put on my work, theres no guarantee of sucess, so why even spend time trying to craft a masterpiece? why not just follow trends and make a tiktok account or whatever the fuck makes money these days. I'd rather not, frankly. And i wont. Well, that's about it. Thanks for reading this update, that's how my life is goin atm. i'm going to continue doing as i am right now, but yknow... I'm not sure what i should do, if you want to give me suggestions, feel free.

#Also sorry for not streaming lately #my throats like. DESTROYED with a small cold #I sound like a chain smoker atm #Also this poll will not affect my decisions in the slightest #i just thought it was funny

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 23 days

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CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This is a long one and based off certain scenes in Lucas on the Line. As a black person, I never realized I was other until it was pointed out to me and once I internalized it, I had questions I couldn't ask my parent(s) because it's not something discussed at length in the black community because trying to survive is hard enough. I honestly urge y'all to read Lucas on the Line because it's such a well written story about the Black Experience and how nuanced and difficult it is to navigate especially black kids who grew up in white neighbourhoods.

I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you guys think and if you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know too! 🤎

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 4588

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

THE WOODS

I squeal dropping the mallet on the ground at the sound of a gunshot. Nancy giggles waiting for me as I pick up my weapon in the shrubbery. I never thought I would be on my way to meet up with Jonathan Byers on the opposite side of town to learn how to shoot a gun. But then again, a lot more bizarre things have happened this week so I shouldn’t be surprised. Nancy and I trek up the small hill as Jonathan shoots repeatedly at the target of empty tin cans or at least attempts to.

“You’re supposed to hit the cans, right?”

Jonathan looks over his shoulder smiling sheepishly. “No, actually you see the spaces in between the cans? I’m aiming for those.”

“Sure.” Nancy answers, titling her head in amusement. She drops her backpack and baseball bat on the ground ready for practice.

I don’t take off my backpack right away, taking in my surroundings. The wide-open space of dry leaves, weeds and shrubs. The tall pine trees encircling the space. The winter chill started to come in and I wish I wore a hat today to cover my ears, maybe even a heavier coat instead of a denim jacket. Jonathan opens the revolver to check how many bullets are in the cylinder before reaching in his pockets for more.

“You ever shot a gun before?”

“Absolutely not.” I answer.

“Didn’t your dad fight in the Vietnam War?” I nod my head, shifting from side to side on my feet. My Dad would never let any of us touch a gun. There was no reason for us to. Jonathan shrugs. “I’m surprised he hasn’t taught you how to shoot a gun,” he commented, directing his gaze to Nancy. “You?”

Nancy scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“Yeah, I haven’t shot one since I was nine. My dad took me hunting on my birthday.” I see the spark in his eyes dwindle to a low flame. “He made me kill a rabbit.”

“A rabbit?” Nancy and I say at the same time.

“Yeah. I guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something.”

“Yes, because the world needs more men shooting guns.” I deadpan.

Jonathan smirks, adding bullets to the cylinder. “I cried for a week.”

“Jesus.” Nancy whispers.

“I’m sorry.” I say to him.

Jonathan didn’t say anything as he tried to drag emotion back under where he didn’t need to feel it. He snaps the revolver in place, the corners of his lips rise to a smirk again. “What? I’m a fan of Thumper.”

“I meant your dad.” Nancy says.

The detachment in his tone makes me uncomfortable. In seeing Jonathan’s dad for the first time today, the way he dressed and carried himself. There was something arrogant and insincere about him. When Will first went missing, I never heard Jonathan mention his dad, when Nancy and I found Jonathan at the funeral home, he was by himself picking caskets. Ms. Byers was at home grieving, but the whole town knew how adamant she was on finding Will, but where was his dad? The audacity to show up to the funeral of his youngest son, he did nothing to plan, to shake hands with the people who did care to find Will. Now with this story, it completed the picture. He was never in Jonathan and Will’s life and didn’t care to be. Only wanted to insert his toxic male dominance and masculinity onto the boys.

“I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point...but I wasn’t around for that part.”

Nancy gestures for the gun and Jonathan hands it to her. “Just point and shoot.”

I walk behind Nancy to stand beside Jonathan, refusing to be anywhere near that sound. Nancy takes a deep breath aiming the gun at the can a few yards in front of her.

“I don’t think my parents ever loved each other.”

My eyebrows raise at the bold statement. “Nancy, you shouldn’t say that.”

“I mean it.” she answers.

“They must’ve married for some reason.” Jonathan states.

“My mom was young. My dad was older but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Screw that.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah. Screw that.”

Nancy closes one eye aiming for the beer can. I put my fingers in in ears just as Nancy pulls the trigger hitting the beer can. I chuckle in disbelief. From shot gunning to shooting them, anything involving beer cans, Nancy is a natural. I shrug off my backpack, placing the mallet on top. Despite the awe, I am uncomfortable with what Nancy said about her parents. Sure, Mr. Wheeler was a bit…impartial. I was around the family many times to know that, but to say her parents never loved each other? I don’t know.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try, Diana?” Jonathan asks, offering me the gun. I don’t move contemplating. “It’s not gonna bite.” He jokes. I make a face at Jonathan and he laughs as I cautiously take it from him with my gloved hand.

“Just point and shoot?”

“Just point and shoot.”

I standing in front of a can, widening my stance so I don’t fall over. “There’s nothing wrong with starting a nuclear family.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Nancy voices. “Your family is perfect.”

I narrow my eyes at her, shaking my head. The contempt in her tone is shocking. “That’s not true.”

“Diana,” Nancy chides, shoving her hands in her pockets. “You never argue with your parents and your parents never argue with each other. You are perfect. Your siblings are perfect. Everyone in your family is perfect.”

I don’t miss Jonathan’s eyes darting back and forth between us. Having never seen us go back and forth with each other, I can tell he is surprised by this. What he doesn’t know is this topic of conversation isn’t new. Throughout our years of friendship, Nancy and Barb always made fun of me for being “perfect”; how I never make mistakes; I am always put together. I need at least eight-hours of “beauty” sleep. From the nickname “Lady Diana”, to my mom making me lunches because I refuse to each cafeteria food. At first it used to bother me, but I moved passed it until Tommy H and Carol picked up on it and started calling me “Anal Princess”.

This may not be a new conversation, but the undertone certainly is and it’s why I am thrown off by it. It doesn’t sound like a joke anymore and there’s something deeper going on. I never thought Nancy envied me. I know I certainly envied Nancy for being strong enough to stand up for herself and say no. For being able to be defiant without feeling like its wrong. I lift my head high lifting the gun eye level.

“I’m not perfect and my parents do argue, just not in front of us and there’s nothing wrong with that.” I begin. “You want to know why my dad never taught me how to fire a gun?” I refer to Jonathan’s comment earlier. “Because he never talks about the War unless it’s to teach us a lesson. I don’t know any stories of his time there. My family is seemingly perfect because we don’t talk about things, we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and try to live without feeling more of an outsider than we already are.” I pull the trigger and the bullet hits the can knocking it off the tree stub.

None of us react. The heaviness of what I said laying on thick. My family isn’t perfect. We are far from it. We are compliant and conforming because it’s the only way to not be seen as more of an outsider than we already are. I understand it to a certain extent, but sometimes I wish my parents would talk more about it. About being black in an all-white religious town. About their past and how they came to Hawkins. I know nothing and it’s something I push down to be the “perfect” daughter when deep down it bothers me. This is not something I can discuss with Lucas and Erica because they are happy in their bubble and I want to keep it that way for them.

“What do you mean?” Nancy asks with a frown. “You’re not an outsider, Di.”

“Never mind.” I say, handing Jonathan the gun, feeling more uncomfortable than before.

Nancy didn’t question me again and after shooting practice we decided to head through the forest looking for the mysterious animal. Dried leaves crunch under my boots as we all walked in silence. Jonathan and Nancy walked together giving me space to be alone for a while which I am grateful for because I didn’t feel like talking. My mind feels like it’s been jostled back and forth, buzzing with many thoughts. I can’t believe I said that out loud. I’ve never talked about it because who do I talk about this with? Uncle Jack only comes to Hawkins once a year and when he does the environment is uncomfortable and stuffy because Dad doesn’t like Uncle Jack and doesn’t hide it. Long distance calls are expensive and I have no money to pay for it and if Dad finds out I’ve been talking to Uncle Jack he’d be furious. Maybe I should start journaling or writing letters I’ll never send.

“You never said what I was saying?” Nancy speaks after a long period of silence.

“What?” Jonathan says.

The conversation about the photos began in the darkroom yesterday, but I interrupted when I saw the final development of the photo of the thing that took Will and Barb. It’s definitely been the great elephant in the room between the three of us and though the conversation in the darkroom was light in nature, it is a serious situation.

“Yesterday, you said, I was saying something and that’s why you took my picture.” I glance around not focusing on anything, while keeping my ears perked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My guess…I saw this girl; you know trying to be someone else. But for that moment…it was like you were alone or you thought you were,” I cautiously peer at Nancy. She looks like she’s about to explode. “And, you know you could just be yourself.”

I ground my teeth. Jonathan just opened up a huge can of worms. A few days ago, I would’ve agreed but after talking to Nancy, I don’t think she is trying to be someone else. She’s a young woman exploring and there’s nothing wrong with that. Also, Jonathan isn’t close to Nancy to know who she is and who she isn’t. Nancy doesn’t respond right away, processing the soft insult. She stops clenching her hands into fists.

“That is such bullshit.” Nancy fumes, glaring at Jonathan. “I am not trying to be someone else. Just because I’m dating Steve and you don’t like him—”

“You know what? Forget it. I just thought it was a good picture.”

My head retracts back. “So, you were intentional in taking those photos.”

Jonathan’s head whips back. His brows shoot up in disbelief. “What?”

“You said you thought it was a good picture which means you were intentional about taking it.” My voice hardens. “Taking all of it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Diana.” Jonathan mutters furiously under his breath, walking away. I march behind him trying to keep up with his long legs and quick strides.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! Nancy asked you a question and your answer quite frankly, was bullshit. Because really? That’s what you were thinking when she was taking off her shirt?” It’s a cop out. A poor excuse to deflect from what he did. Jonathan scoffs. “Unbelievable.” I hiss, catching myself before I trip over a branch. “What about how Steve feels?”

“Oh my god!” Jonathan throws his hands up in exasperation and I am filled with so much adrenaline I’m starting to shake.

“I told you his privacy was violated too!” I snap. “As was mine, Tommy, Carol, and Barb!”

Jonathan spins around, eyes bulging out of his sockets. “And I said I was sorry for taking the photos!” He shouts. I blink repeatedly taken aback by this attitude. No one has ever yelled at me like that and Jonathan was the last person I thought would. Nancy steps in scowling at him.

“Don’t yell at her!” she shouts, pointing at him. Jonathan glares at her and keeps his mouth shut. I look down at my boots, done with the conversation. “Steve is actually a good guy. The whole camera situation. He’s not like that at all. He was just being protective.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan scoffs, walking away. “That’s one word for it.”

“And what you did was okay?” Nancy barks, following after him. I stalk behind her keeping my distance.

“I never said that.”

“He had every right to be pissed—”

“Okay, all right.” Jonathan says, rolling his eyes, coming to a halt. “Does that mean I have to like him?”

“No.”

“Listen, don’t take it so personally, okay? I don’t like most people. He’s in the vast majority.”

This is why he’s being like this. Because he doesn’t like Steve and has some sort of animosity towards him. I never thought I would stick up for Steve, but after my encounter with him in my garage, I think he’s a good person and deserves a chance to be seen and heard outside his bubble.

“You know, I was actually starting to think that you were okay.” Nancy rages.

“Yeah?” Jonathan challenges, eyes glowing with savage fire.

“Yeah, I was thinking, ‘Jonathan Byers, maybe he’s not the pretentious creep everyone says he is.’”

“Well, I was just starting to think you were okay. I was thinking, ‘Nancy Wheeler, she’s not just another suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does, until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac.’” His voice was stern with no vestige of sympathy in its hardness. “’Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it.’”

Nancy and I watch Jonathan march away. We look at each other absolutely gobsmacked at what just happened. Nancy’s face is so red, the veins in her neck pulsates with pent-up fury as she clenches her fists. I wrap my arm around her shoulders guiding her along the path.

I admire the colours of the sky as we trek through the forest. Shades of pink, orange, and yellow blending and oozing together. The sun was setting and we would soon need to use our flashlights to navigate through the forest. My back aches from carrying my backpack for so long and I want to tell Jonathan to stop so we can take a break but he was far ahead keeping his distance. All of us have been quiet since the argument though Nancy walked beside me, we haven’t spoken focusing on our surroundings, deep in thought.

A lot of truth has been said today and it felt like it was shoved down all our throats. I’m not mad at Jonathan for yelling at me and I hope he’s not mad at me for calling him out. What he did was stupid and I know he knows that, but picking a fight with Nancy was something completely different. It felt more personal and I can’t quite put my finger on why it would be since Jonathan and Nancy aren’t close. If anything, they may be farther apart now after what he said to her. I doubt Jonathan wants that especially because of how far we’ve come.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks quietly enough so Jonathan doesn’t hear.

“Yes.” I respond automatically. Nancy looks at me and I drop the act. “No.”

“Me neither.” she agrees, glaring at the back of Jonathan’s head. “I’m so sick of him and his holier than thou attitude.”

“I can’t believe he yelled at me.”

“I can’t believe that either!” she whispers hastily. “I didn’t like that.”

“I know. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me and Steve.”

“You’re welcome.”

I debate on whether I should tell her he came to my house today, but decide it doesn’t matter and she probably already knew about it since he was in his way to see her anyways.

“I can’t believe Princess Diana swore.” she teases, touching her chest in shock.

“Oh, shut up.” I giggle, pushing her away.

“Ou, again!” I roll my eyes.

“I was just trying to understand why he took the photos.”

“I honestly don’t even think he knows.” she says, looking at Jonathan again. There was no anger in her eyes, just curiosity.

“After that conversation, I think so too.”

Nancy hums in response, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ears. “I was going to bring it up later but, what you did earlier today about being an outsider. What did you mean?”

A ripple of anxiety went up my back while my stomach fell to my feet. I shrug my shoulders shaking me head. “I don’t know.” I deflect.

“Diana, we’ve been friends for so long, you can talk to me about anything. You know that right?”

I do know that, but this conversation was not about a boy or anything menial like that. It was much deeper and something I’ve been pushing down for years. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but when Nancy went on about my perfect day family, I snapped. This past week I feel like I’ve gone through the most significant changes which in turn has brought up subconscious thoughts, emotions and insecurities. I feel like I’m being pulled in every direction, perfect daughter, perfect friend, Juilliard, Blackness, otherness. But who am I? Where do I want to go? Who do I want to be?

“Diana.” Worry etched Nancy’s features. My silence makes her more anxious. I sigh, stepping over a branch.

“Have you ever noticed there is no one who looks like me in our neighbourhood?” I mumble, uncomfortably.

“No? What do you mean?” An expected answer. I close my eyes counting down from five. How do I go about this?

“I mean, black.” I say, pushing down the lump forming in my throat. “My family…” I clear my throat. “My family is the only black family in the neighbourhood.” When Nancy doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I don’t remember when I noticed, but once I did, it’s hard not to. Even at school, I can count how many black people are there and majority are on the basketball team. Did you know that?” Nancy shakes her head. “I am the only black person in our classes, at dance. No matter where I go or what I do, who I am. I will always be the black one. Even in our friendship. That’s what I mean by outsider.”

“My mom and dad don’t talk about our blackness and I’m left to figure it out on my own. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. That’s what I mean when I said we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and conform, but sometimes I don’t want to conform. Sometimes…” I sigh feeling exhausted. Mentally. “Sometimes, I want to ask those questions but then I’ll feel like I’m not…”

“The perfect daughter.” Nancy finishes.

“Yeah.” I twirl the mallet in my hand. There’s so much to say but this conversation is exhausting enough. Nancy looks at the ground, kicking a rock.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” she says lowly. “I’m sorry for not paying attention.”

“You know now and that’s the first step.”

“Of course, but please don’t be afraid to tell me these things. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to feel like an outsider when you’re with me. What you said is something I need to know in order to change.”

I nod my head and Nancy visibly relaxes, reaching to squeeze my hand. I rest my head on her shoulder feeling more relaxed than I did before the beginning of the conversation. It’s a conversation that could’ve easily gone south and I wouldn’t be prepared to handle it, especially after what happened hours before. Darkness quickly engulfs the sky and I am instantly aware of all the sounds in the forest. The wind slipping through leaves, the cracking undergrowth with each step Nancy and I make, the bugs crawling on trees. We all take out our flashlights to see and I notice Jonathan slows down to remain close, though still keeping his distance. I jerk at every unfamiliar sound making Nancy laugh again.

“Do you remember Mei Wong?” I mutter, swatting away a fly.

“Yes. She auditioned for Juilliard!”

“Well on Sunday at rehearsals, she told me…” I swallow to soothe the dryness in my throat. “She told me I should think about auditioning for Juilliard.”

“Really? Wow!”

I scrunch my nose. “I know.”

“You definitely should. I meant what I said at Steve’s house. You’re such a beautiful dancer and you’re gonna go pro. I feel it.” I shake my head. Somehow Nancy sees it.

“You are. I need you to be more confident in yourself.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…what if I audition and I don’t get in—”

“We’re only in 10th grade, you have time to worry about the auditions.” Nancy assures me. “Maybe Juilliard has a summer intensive you can take beforehand to give you an extra boost.”

“My dad will never allow that.”

“Have you talked to your mom about it?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“I say after all this is done and we find Barb, we will both help you research and come up with a plan for you to go to Juilliard. Because you’re going to Juilliard.”

We find Barb. That’s the most important thing. It’s why we’re here now. The sound of her laughter echoed through my mind. The last time I saw her; felt her at Steve’s house. I don’t want to believe that was the last time I saw her. I shiver, crossing my arms above my chest. It’s so cold I can barely feel my ears and nose. Jonathan keeps pace with Nancy and I. There is still tension between the three of us, but now is not the time to dwell on it, not when we were outside in the forest on our own looking for God knows what. At random, Nancy slows down looking back and forth, her expression tight with strain. I keep myself composed despite the fact my heart is racing. Did she see something? Hear anything? Was it here? I tighten my grip on the mallet, my eyes darting from tree to tree.

“What are you tired?” Jonathan asks.

“Shut up.” Nancy hisses, looking around. “I heard something.”

I follow closely beside Jonathan as we follow Nancy through the forest. I don’t know what we’re looking for or what she’s heard until I hear something faint…a whining sound. I gasp at the sight of a deer whimpering in front of underbrush. We all rush to the deer dropping to our knees. My stomach is in knots at the blood dampening its fawn-coloured coat. It looked like it’s been punctured multiple times. It’s ragged breathing and slow movements indicated it was in pain and about to die. I’ve never seen a deer this close before and I’m sad it has to be like this. Images of Bambi flash through my mind and I cover my mouth muffling my sobs.

“Oh, God. It’s been hit by a car.” Nancy whimpers, tears brimming her eyes. She looks at the gun in her hand and holds it up. “We can’t just leave it.”

“Wait!” I exclaim, grabbing her arm. “There must be something else we can do!”

“It’s in too much pain. We have to.”

“I’ll do it.” Jonathan says, taking the gun. Nancy and I look at him with wide eyes. “I’m not nine anymore.” Jonathan assures us.

I stagger up on my feet grabbing Nancy’s hand. Jonathan points the gun at the deer. Time slows down and I feel like the forest is closing in on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up just as Jonathan is about to pull the trigger when suddenly, the deer disappears into the underbrush. I jump back startled, mouth opening in a silent scream.

“What was that? What was that?” Nancy shouts.

I wring my hands jumping up and down. “Oh, my god. Oh my, god. I can’t. I can’t.” Panic shoots up my spine and I hold my chest struggling to catch my breath.

“There’s so much blood.”

“Where did it go?”

“I don’t know.”

I quickly pick up the flashlight and mallet I dropped in my state of panic. My skin tingles and I shake my head trying to focus, aiming the light on the ground. Blood smears all over leaves and twigs. I proceed around with caution, shining my light on anything and everything in the forest, being cautious of not stepping on any gore. From the far distance I notice something dripping from a hollow tree stump. It looked like…sap. No, it’s too thick for it to be sap. I am vigilant taking calculated steps and kneel in front of the tree inspecting the foliage. It looked like the tree was creating mucus. Thick, slimy, runny mucus. There was no smell to it, but it was weird. I paid attention in biology last semester to know that this wasn’t right.

“Nancy.” I whisper. “This tree…there’s weird stuff falling.”

Nancy joins me on my knees shining her light. She touches the tree stump, looking up. “Jonathan?” she shouts, looking around. I search as well thinking he was with us, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It would be unwise to leave Nancy here alone to look for him. We were better sticking together. When I turn back however, Nancy is taking off her backpack placing it beside her bat. My eyes widen. “You’re not seriously going in there!”

“Watch my stuff.”

“Are you crazy?” I snap.

That mucus could be toxic or worse. There was no need to go inside the clearly rotting tree. Nancy ignores me crawling inside. I am lost for words because not only can she fit inside; her body completely disappears as if there was an opening on the other side. I blink, shaking my head, feeling disembodied.

“Nancy?”

Adrenaline bursts through my veins to prepare myself to fight or flee. I feel like I am back in Steve’s backyard keeping watch while Nancy does something completely foolish like walk into the forest on her own or like now, crawling into a slime coated hollow stump. I curse colourful words under my breath that would shock my Dad. I can’t leave her alone. So, I take off my backpack and put the mallet on top; count down from five in my head and crawl through the hole holding my breath hopefully awaiting Nancy on the other side.

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #sinclair!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

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aleeyenn · 1 month

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SHAKING YOU hi more Bedtime Story(Pillowbook) headcanons please you can't just go in tags and say the BEST Pillow headcanons EVER then go "that's enough headcanon rambling" WRONG!!! LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. ITS NEVER ENOUGH HEADCANON RAMBLING

OMG THANK YOU FOR YOUR CURIOSITY!!! i don’t have many headcanons off the top of my head since they usually come up during convos about them with my friends But! i am currently writing a pillowbook fanfic and it has mentions of some sweet headcanons/scenarios in there!!! here is your teaser:

- when pillow and book clean up after a g&d or yoyle chess session, pillow brushes her hand against books and book gets a bit flustered and apologizes each time, but pillow reassures her saying that it’s okay and that she did it on purpose

- pillow asks book to read her her favorite stories so she can know more about her interests and what she likes. as she does this, pillow kinda like cuddles up to her and book messes up her words because of the closeness (she is soooo touch starved) and pillow thinks it’s amusing but she doesn’t say anything

THATS KINDA ALL I CAN GIVE YOU FROM MY FIC … it’s at 7.4k words right now (it’s my first actual written piece OMG!) and i find that i’m a slow writer and i can only write when i get bursts of motivation so it’s taking a while BUT THE TENSION IS BUILDING! it’s definitely a romcom and i’ll announce when it’s out! (i’ll probs publish it on ao3 btw)

aside from stuff from the fanfiction i’m writing i think i can pull a few extras out of my sleeve

- pillow would look into books history to learn about her more and she would find that she received a little gold star her cover in bfdia 10. she would put a gold star on book when she thinks she’s doing good at something as encouragement for her to keep it up and book would be motivated by this

- book knows oragami. after she finds out that pillow is doing things for good luck she shows pillow how to make paper cranes and she tells her if she makes 1000 paper cranes it’ll give her good luck… and so she does! in a single day somehow… and gives them to book to wish Her good luck

- pillow generally picks up on every little detail about books mannerisms … but that’s a given when you’re talking about pillow LOL

- naily and price tag are like. the number one pillowbook fans HEELPPP LIKE THEY SET THEM UP AND STUFF and read into them together… they’re their instigators brah. they’re their wingmen. this headcanon came from the pillowbook fic “who cares?” on quotev PLEAASEEE IF YOU ARE A PILLOWBOOK FAN READ IT ITS THE BEST FANFICTION IVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE I AM NOT KIDDING i would go on more but i’ll go on forever… i love it so much Please read it(and author of it, if you are reading this HIIIII YOURE THE BEST)

IM SURE THERE ARE A LOT MORE BUT ITS REALLY LATE AND I HAVE TO GO TO BED SO I CANT THINK HARD ANYMORE… THANK YOU FOR READING AND YOUR INTEREST IN MY HEADCANONS! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPYYY

#joyjibberjabber

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kombuuuu · 10 months

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worst part of all the miles/miguel smut is that 90% of that content is written by fully grown adults. like i'm sorry but if ur over the age of 18 and u haven't found a healthier coping mechanism than writing romantic fanfiction between a 30 year old and a 15 year old u need to be put into a literal asylum. actually, no matter ur age if that's ur "tRaUMa ReSpOnSe" you need to be put in jail.

RAHHHHHHHH ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

ANON I DONT THINK IVE EVER 100% FULLY AGREED ON AN OPINION TIL RIGHT NOW !!!!!

(false information, i would just like to stress my agreement.)

if you are a legal adult, or even someone who qualifies as an adult (17+ depending on person), you should not be doing stupid shit like that

cause not only is it fucking weird, but there is genuine legal repercussions

in some places, even faux content of a minor is now legible for prosecution 😚😚🤞

oh! and if you don’t want to trust wikipedia, which, by all means!

here’s a government document reinstating the exact thing you just fucking read 🙀🙀‼️

https://unsworks.unsw.edu.au/server/api/core/bitstreams/cf3f8ff1-194b-4128-98c7-39b666a10ac2/content

this might be more image/ comic depicted, but eventually it’ll reach fanfiction. these laws are RECENT, and still growing. soon, sexually explicit material of a minor, no matter the content, will be ILLEGAL YIPPEEEE!!!!

#BALLIN #having so much fun rn #miles morales #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles my beloved

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