#HEY FANTIC

[famoulouswrites]

~Nightmares~

Ace x Y/N

(She/her pronouns used)

(Overblot spoilers)

(Y/N low key has PTSD)

(Not proofread.)

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

The overblots were horrible.

The room around growing black, the walls and plants cracked or decaying, the very emotion of the victim distorting everything around them.

Were they even victims? Y/N believed so, but her nightmares painted them in their worst light.

One night, after the first overblot, Y/N dreamt that she ran into the gardens maze, only to be chased by the sounds of yelling and a rose bush hitting the walls.

The next nightmare was even more intense, Y/N stuck alone with Leona, dust clouding the sight of her friends, the threat of being turned to sand closer and closer.

The next one? Hiding bellow a table in the monstro lounge as the sound of foot...or the merman equivalent of foot steps on the tile came closer.

Another? Trapped in golden chains, surrounded by what should have been a joyous party, destroyed by the new head of Sacrabia.

Trapped under fallen debree of the festival,

Surrounded by sobbs and an endless number of stairs,

With each overblot the nightmares grew more and more unbearable.

And Y/N was at her breaking point.

Each night she had these nightmares, along with the normal nightmares presented in the mirror....were those even nightmares if she wasn't asleep?

It didn't matter.

Tonight's was the worst of all of them.

In every dream nobody ever touched her, the threat was present but never actully harming her, until tonight.

Grimm....or somthing that looked like Grimm, scratching her, hitting her wih his claws in an aggressie manner, nobody was the there to help, she screamed for Ace, for Deuce, Jack, Epel, Kalim, anyone! Even for Grim to return to his senses! Nobody came.

In one last pounce from Grimm, she woke up.

Breathing heavily she looked up at her ceiling.

She couldn't do this anymore, why was she always in the middle of overblots? Why was Crowly so irresponsible that he let so many happen in the first place?

It wasn't fair!

Y/N sat up, crying to the point she could hardly breathe. She was convinced that if she had magic, she'd be very close to overblotting herself at that point.

The small knock on her door almost went unheard, until it became more fantic.

Getting out of bed and walking down the stairs of Ramshackle, she could finally hear a scared voice pleading for help.

"Perfect wake up! Riddles on my case again, you gotta let me in till Trey calms him down! Perfect? Perfect!!!"

Oh...it was Ace.

Again.

She walked to the door, and opened it already stepping out of the way for when Ace would come plowing in.

She'd been though this a quite few times before.

Ace was lucky this time, she saw, as he wasn't collared yet. Unlike a majority of times he came bolting into her dorm.

"Oof, Riddles really ticked this time. I swear I thought I locked the door to the flamingos!" He started to rant, walking around the main living room, as he tried to prove his innocence to her, before finally looking back up to Y/N.

"Y/N....you look like crap."

"Wow thanks."

Y/N sighed as she sat down on the couch.

At least her couch was nice and cozy, it made the situation a little better.

It was true what he had said, she did look like crap.

Her hair was all messed up, tears were going down her face still and she was soaked in sweat.

For once Ace looked more orderly than her.

"You....you need to talk about somthin'?" He offered, sitting next to her on the couch.

"I don't know, it was just a nightmare." She said, brushing off the offer.

"Hey! That's serious!" Ace argued "Whenever I'd have a nightmare back home my bro would sit with me and listen to it! Doesn't matter how old I get!" Ace said. "So talk! ...if you want."

Y/N sighed, and started from the beginning, recounting every nightmare she'd had after coming to Night Raven Collage, all the way up to her latest one.

"Dang...." Ace said, shaking his head. "And I thought my nightmare about my pants falling down was bad...."

"Look," he said with a soft sigh "I'm not gonna say you shouldn't worry about those cuz, let's be honest, I think overblots happen here more than anywhere else......this school really needs better therapists, but! You know that you'll always have help!" Ace smiled softly as he sat at the edge of the couch.

"Like-like with Riddles! You had me, Deuce, Trey and Cater! With Leonas you had me, Deuce, Riddle, Jack and I kinda guess Ruggie...does he even count? He did hardly anyth- ok I'm getting off track! Point is, you'll always have help! Ok? You're never going to have to handle one on your own, ok?"

Y/N listened, knowing he was probly right but...she was still scared. "I know in real life I have you guys, but what about in my dreams? I know they're not real but it makes it so hard to sleep..." She sighed.

"Well...um..." Ace thought for a moment "I'll sleep with you tonight! And if any nightmares come, I'll just shoo them away!" He laughed. "That's what my brother used to do for me!"

Yuu smiled. "Thanks....I'd like that!"

Of course, as always, nightmares came as always.

Another one about Leona.

She was back on the playing field, surrounded by sand, she couldn't see anything but the yellow clouds...but this time, she heard a voice calling out for her.

"Y/N! Y/N over here! I've got ya!"

[arc-misadventures]

What are those: Side Story: How does Saphron and Terra react to their son being a Dragon Faunus just like his father?

He’s What?

Jaune: Okay… (Sniff sniff!) Hmm… Seems like i’m all alone this time… Like make the call…

Jaune: …

Jaune: …

Jaune: Pick up, come on please pick up…

(Click~!)

: Cotta Arc Residence, to who… Oh! Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: Hey, Saphron.

Spahron: How’s my favourite little brother doing?

Jaune: I’m lright, most things considered. Is, Terra there?

Saphron: Yeah, one moment; Terra?!

Terra: Yeah?

Saphron: Jaune’s calling, he wants to speak to you!

Terra: Jaune’s calling~! Jaune? Hi, Jaune!

Jaune: Hi, Terra. And, hello, Adrian, hows my favourite little nephew?

Adrian: Bwua~!

Jaune: Sounds like he was trying to say my name.

Terra: Sounds like he was.

Saphron: Mommy should be his first words, not, Jaune you little rascal~!

Adrian: Ah-haha!

Terra: No he’ll be saying, Mom first.

Saphron: We’ll see… Nice outfit by the way.

Terra: And, horns? When did you get those?

Jaune: Oh, well my teacher wanted to test my capacity to breath fire; So he had me push my flame to the limits, and well, these happened. I’m not sure why, or how, but they did. As for the clothes, well they set me on fire…

Saphron: They set you on fire?!

Jaune: It was to test my ability to withstand fire. They incinerated all my clothes… I lost my, Pumpkin Pete’s hoodie in the fire…

Saphron: Not the hoodie?! You spent months trying to get that!

Jaune: Yeah, luckily my girlfriend is, Pumpkin Pete’s poster girl, she told me she would get me a replacement. One with a zipper, I can’t wear anything that is an overhead shirt because of these things. Hehe.

Saphron: Girlfriend?

Terra: And, it’s that girl on the cereal?

Jaune: Yeah, her name is, Pyrrha Nikos. She actually my partner here at, Beacon. She basically claimed the spot as first chosen.

Terra: First chosen?

Jaune: If a faunas develops a harem, there is this hierarchical set up in it. It doesn’t mean anything, bar she was the first picked.

Saphron: Harem? Jaune, are you making a harem?!

Jaune: Uhh… Yeah… I am. It wasn’t my plan to, I would have been more than happy for it to be just me, and Pyrrha. But, since I can, and dozens of faunas are chasing after me…

Terra: You started a harem.

Jaune: There’s only the three of us. Honestly I haven’t done anything, Pyrrha is actually the one who started it. I was just teasing a girl, Pyrrha was the one who pulled her into a supply closet.

Terra: And, suddenly she in your harem?

Jaune: No… That… that happened after our little tryst in a changing booth…

Saphron: A changing booth? That reminds me of our times in a changing booth. Spending all that time ‘trying on’ clothes was so much fun~!

Terra: I had more fun ‘trying on’ those clothes as home~! So, Jqune, since Pyrrha is your, ‘First Chosen,’ what does that make me?

Jaune: W-What are you talking about?

Terra: She’s your first girlfriend, first chosen, harem member, whatever you want to call her. I’m the mother to your first child, what does that make me?

Jaune: O-Oh… T-T-That… I don’t know… I’ll have to ask around…

Terra: Please do so, I would like to have a title that better then, ‘Baby Mommy.’

Jaune: Don’t say that again.

Saphron: But, its true. She is your baby mommy.

Jaune: Quit referring to your wife like that.

Saphron: But, it’s hot!

Jaune: Okay… So speaking of, Adrian. I wanted to call to see if you had any news if, Adrian is a�� is a faunas?

Terra: No, no he isn’t.

Jaune: He isn’t?

Terra: He has, nor will have any faunas traits in the future.

Jaune: Haaa… That’s a relief.

Saphron: What’s was the problem with, Adrian potentially being a faunas though? You are a faunas, I wouldn’t care if my son was a faunas, I only care he is a healthy baby boy.

Jaune: Because, I have the wife of the chieftain of Menagerie hovering about me, High Leader to the White Fang breathing down my neck, a fantical faction of the, White Fang who wants to start a ‘holy’ race war in my name, and lastly I have the knowledge that a group of zealot faunas have started a cult worshiping me as a god. Do you have any idea how scared I am, how worried I am if they learn about my son? I may be putting on a smile, and easily accepting my place as some sort of messiah figure, but, Saphron… I’m scared as all hell about what the future may bring. It’s spiralling out of control, and I have no idea what’s happening, let alone what may happen. And, that’s not saying it will be the faunas that hurts my family, could be the, Schnee Dust Company, Jacques Schnee has had a beef with me for years. Atlas is a bunch of paranoid lunatics so they may try something. Being paranoid myself is the only thing I’ve got to defend myself against what may happen. I’m scared… There’s nothing else to it.

Saphron: Oh… I didn’t know.

Terra: I’m sorry to hear that, Jaune. If there is anything we can do to help you?

Jaune: Just stay safe, and make sure nothing bad happens to, Adrian. Okay?

Saphron: Don’t worry, Jaune; I’m a, Arc, and I’m a mother. You know how we, Arc’s get when it come to protecting our young. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe.

Jaune: That’s all I can ask for… But, if you need anything, anything at all just let me know. You know I’m filthy rich, so money won’t be an issue.

Saphron: You already payed for this house as our wedding present, we don’t need any money.

Terra: But, there is something else we do need… Well, it’s more of a want than a need really.

Jaune: And, what is…? (Sniff, sniff!) Oh no…

Saphron: What is it?

Terra: Is that person who was spying on you, are they back?

Jaune: No, I dealt with her, but this is worse.

Terra: Worse…?!

Saphron: What is it?

Jaune: It’s…

: Jauney~!

Jaune: It’s mom…

Juniper: There you are, I’ve been looking…? Oh, Hello, Saphron, Terra, wittle Adrikins~!

ST: Hi mom~!

Adrian: Bwah-haha!

Juniper: Why are you calling your sisters, Jaune? Something faunas related?

Jaune: You could say that.

Juniper: Does it have to do with, Adrian being your son?

ST: WHAT?!

Jaune: You knew?!

Juniper: I’ve know for years. Especially now since, Adrian looks just like his father when he was his age.

Jaune: He does?

Juniper: Of course. Here, look at this photo.

Jaune: Oh shit, he does look like me…

Saphron: Aww~! He’s adorable!

Terra: They look like splitting images of each other.

Juniper: Yes, so you don’t need to hide this, at least from your family anymore.

Terra: Oh good, because there is something we, mostly I want from you, Jaune.

Jaune: And, that is…?

Terra: Do you… Do you want to give, Adrian a sibling?

Jaune: What?!

Juniper:

YES!!!

///

Haa… At last, I’m free…

This has been stuck in my draft box for months. It just wasn’t continuity appropriate to do it. But, it’s finally done.

Do enjoy~!

[jjwhitefox]

ParasiteCrazes Au(RiseOTTMNT Horror Au)

So, here part 5 of Donnie acting odd after the Krang Indicent. ParasiteCrazes Au.

(After few hours of running, they make to April's place)

Raph's POV:(Fanticing knocking on window)

Raph- Come on Apes...Where are you?...

Leo-*hic* Why Donnie...Why didn't...*hic*you tell us.... that you were...*hic* sick....

Mikey- (trying to call April) Pls...pls pick up...pick up...(the call goes through)

April:Hey, Mikey. Where are you guys at?..

Mikey-Oh thanks god, are you okay?.. And we're at your place... You're not at Lair,right?....

April: Yeah I'm, Donnie called me for something.... Why you ask?...

Raph,Leo,Mikey- LEAVE THE LAIR,APRIL!!!!DONNIE'S NOT HIMSELF!!!!

April:Ow my ears!!!GUYS TALK AT TIME THA-Oh hey Don, you wa-(Screams and loud munching)

Raph-Oh my god!!(puts his hand to his mouth to stop from puking)

Leo-No..no..no....not again...*start to sods**hic*

Mikey-How did he ... get her to....April can't...be can't be...*start to cry again*

Raph- What ...about Baron...he can help us...

Leo,Mikey:Look at each other and back at Raph*both nods in agreement*

Ok, I may have or not k*ll off April but don't worry about that. :p So, I hope you guys enjoy and thanks for the notes and follows.

[honeybunniii333]

make. them. suffer.

(Gladly! I had a dream that Nevin got hurt and ended up with a scar that looks a lot like Drew's, and the idea was cute to me, so here ya go!)

-

How did Nevin end up in a situation like this, AGAIN? He had no fucking clue, but here he was running and dodging for his life from another freaky ass monster. There were about a million thoughts flying through his head. Where the fuck was Drew? What the fuck was the thing chasing them? Why the fuck was it here? And how the fuck did it get there?

Well, the last question wasn't too hard to figure out. It was certainly one of Drew's friends messing around with shit they shouldn't be again. And as for the why, it seemed pretty obvious the creature was out for blood, so its motive was clear. Now, what it was? That was a little trickier. It definitely wasn't normal. It was big and loud and looked like it could crush him easily. And lastly, Drew, he had no clue where that boy was now... not lately anyway. Running was clearly not going to cut it for much longer. They'd tried hiding several times, but that thing always managed to find them... He let out a startled noise as Chris grabbed his arm and dragged him into the science lab, hoping to slow the thundering beast off by confusing it among the rows of counters.

However, this only worked about two minutes before the beast figured out it could jump over the counters, and Nevin found himself being snatched up by the large beast. " HEY ! LET ME GO!!!" He growled, scratching at the vice grip around his waist. when he said to let him go, he'd meant he wanted to be put down, not thrown down... but clearly, there was a miscommunication. His head connected with the counter, and everything went dark...

The next thing he registered was fantic mumbling and something soft being pressed against his head. He was leaned against something sturdy yet warm. "N..v.. nev...Nevin? oh god.. oh God..." Chris, it was Chris talking. It took far more effort than it normally did for him to open his eyes, though he didn't have the energy to be concerned about that. The first thing he saw was Chris. His face was distraught, to say the least, tears threatening to spill as he tried desperately to slow the blood that was running down his face. Blood...he was bleeding. Why was he bleeding? "Nevin?! oh, oh, thank God! I was... I thought.." he was choking over his words, and the waves of distress that were radiating off of him were not helping the ever growing headache that was emerging within him as he slowly started to come to his senses.

"A..are you o..kay?" he managed to croak out, and the worry on Chris's face quickly turned to utter shock. "You've gotta be kidding, man! I'm not the one with a gash in my head!" he sputtered. "I need to get you to Drew. " he mumbled, gently adjusting the boy he already had cradled in his arms so he could pick him up properly. Normally, Nevin would try and insist he was fine, that there was no sense worrying over a little scratch. But he was so tired and his head really hurt and it felt nice to be held when he didn't feel well... even if he'd never admit that out loud. So he provided no protest as his vision started to blur, and he started to drift back into darkness... "Nevin.. hey.. no stay awa-... " He could feel the spike of panic, his drifting concious evoked from the boy, but it wasn't enough to keep him awake, and he promptly fell back into unconsciousness

There were voices again, panicked and loud. "How did this happen?!" Drew... "I, i dont know!" Chris... His eyes slowly cracked open. He was lying in a nurses bed. His head was in his brothers lap, and a cool rag was pressed to his head. "Nev?.." Drew was staring down at him... at least he was pretty sure he was. his vision had gotten hazier. He couldn't make out his brothers face, but he knew Drew, he knew it was him. "Jesus, there's so much blood. Can you hear me.? Nevin?..." He could, but he could hardly keep his eyes open, let alone form words. "Can you heal him?"

"I.. I think? I should be able to." he felt his head being gently moved a bit as the rag pressed against the wound was pulled away, he could hear Drew take in a deep breath and gently place his hands over the still bleeding gash. Drew shut his eyes and focused all his energy. Branches started to sprout from his head as he (literally) worked his magic. Nevin found his eyes falling shut as he felt the pounding pain in his head slowly die down. When he opened them again, his vision had cleared, and the fuzzy feeling he'd had started to fade. The moment he was able to truly comprehend everything, he shot up and yanked away from his twins healing touch, his breathing quick and panicky.

He swayed backward, immediately regretting his decision as a wave of dizziness hit him. Hands on his back steadied him holding him up, Chris. "Easy Nev..." Drew chided, grabbing his wrists to help ground him as the boy slowly forced himself to relax. "Sorry..sorry what.. What happened?" He croaked out, a guilty look crossed Chris's face when the other turned his head to look back at the boy sitting on his other side. "I... couldn't get to you in time, He grabbed you, and I tried to stop it, but..." he tripped over his words in a panic, trembling slightly at the memory. "Shit, dude.. I really thought you weren't gonna wake up for a minute there." he laughed nervously and tensed for a moment as Nevin squeezed his hand. "I'm fine.. he didn't hurt you, too, did he?" He asked, looking the boy over. "Oh no, no! I got rid of him pretty fast after you were out." he assured, and Nevin could tell he didn't want to elaborate, so he did not push. "Drew..?" He whispered, turning his attention back to his very silent twin.

Drew looked upset, and Nevin couldn't help but feel drained at the prospect of yet another lecture about getting himself hurt, though instead he was startled by arms wrapping tightly around him. Despite his obvious confusion, he returned the embrace and let his head rest against Drew's shoulder. "You scared me." his voice sounded slightly shaky, and the wave of guilt that struck the darker twin made his stomach flip. "I'm sorry..." After a few moments of silence, Drew pulled back, wiping at his eyes and taking a hold of Nevins face as he inspected the healed injury... a faint scar was left over his eyebrow, and Drew giggled to himself. "What? what's so funny?" Chris asked as he leaned in a little to look, Nevin raised his newly scared eyebrow in equal confusion. Drew couldn't help but grin.

"We match."

[tegr1dy]

Questions

hey @tegr1dy I have questions for you

1. What's your thoughts on Staig? (I'm a Staig Fantic and Staig Shipper)

2. Who do you ship Craig with?

3. What's your Opinion on Gym Fic? (Staig Fan Fiction)

4. What's your thoughts on Staig Shippers and Staig Fans?

1. genuine answer i like it i think it’s so fun and i want to get more into it

2. his left hand and a tissue (i hc he’s left handed)

3. it blew my mind

4. Hot sexy especially @craigfan42 i have a crush on them don’t tell

[paisholotus]

Hey, y'all, I wanted to come and say something a little important. Because I've had writers come and ask me for advice, so here's my advice. Please don't be rude.

If you ever feel like your writing isn't good enough or people don't like your work, just know this. Sometimes, when it comes to fantic people, only wanna see the fantics of that one character their focusing on or stuck on, so when you start to branch out to other characters, they'll either like it or don't like it and unfollow.

But that just comes with writing period! Everyone is not going to like everything you write. Same with me. Some people like my fics while others will come on anon and talk shit and tell me to stop. But that will never phase me because I love writing it's my passion.

And I know as writers it feels good for people to tell you how much they love your writing, it makes you want to hear it again and again. But it's also alright for people to not like it, just as long as you do! You keep liking it and improving it to your liking. Writing is your voice.

Also, please don't change your blog just because people don't like your writing anymore. PLEASE DO NOT! Be discouraged so much that you remove your personality from your blog.

Keep writing for the followers you do have, and continue to post whatever content you like. Hope this helped ❤️🤎

Love y'all and always remember to be kind to yourself.

[ze-fanatic14]

Hey Fantic, I've been making an AU where Dream and Nightmare have a daycare. Here a picture from the first post (so far theres three)

Their humans becasue I'm just better at drawing humans

Oooo this looks interesting. And the art is so cute!

[halfwayt0sanity]

I met Andi in 1977 at the Hockey Club THC Mettmann in the Zweite-Herren — men's second division. Andi was also allowed to play in the first division, he was a good striker. I, on the other hand, was a goalkeeper in the second division. I didn't think it was so bad to play in the second division because they drank more alcohol than those in the first division, who took the sport very seriously. After training, the older guys used to buy rounds of beer, the two of us never had to pay for anything. I regularly rode home from the club on a small motorcycle that leaned sideways, which I inherited from my brother Mike. My father was worried that the sport would cause blood circulation problems to his boy.

The motorcycle thing was less dangerous than it sounds. My small Fantic motorcycle only reached 23 km/h since Mini Frielinghaus tried to increase the previous top speed of a dishonorable 45 km/h by improving it. Mini only said: "It's an Italian model. Nothing can be done."

The second problem with the motorcycle was that it wasn't a normal size, but rather it seemed to be made for children. It had very small wheels and was painted in candy color, snail's pace no longer made a big difference. When Andi and I came back from training, he used to ride his bike faster. He lived in Schillerstraße street, less than 500 metres from my house. We visited each other almost every afternoon and I showed him my new vinyls. As I went to school in Düsseldorf, I had an advantage over my friends from Mettmann when it came to music. My trusted salesman, from the Rock On vinyl store on Schadow Street, received new merchandise direct from London every Friday. The tall Wolla would then reach over his counter bar and whisper confidentially: "Hey Andreas, the new Devo stuff arrives in yellow vinyl next Friday, there's only 1000 copies. Shall I reserve one for you?"

The new Devo stuff in yellow? Not bad; on the other hand, I still needed Fulham Fallout by The Lurkers and I only had 20 DM left until next month. I helped my mother at home by picking blackcurrants, increased my budget to 30 DM and bought both vinyls. The very limited yellow copies of Devo remained in the shop for three more years and were soon available at half price.

On the other hand, Andi and I — two kids with acne and spiky hairstyles. We dyed each other's hair with cheap dyes, which we found in the supermarket and always made us look sick. We were never accompanied by girls, but always by our Ramones vinyls in plastic bags. Maybe we were boys to look twice, but Mettmann's girls never looked at you a second time.

For the summer vacations of 1979, we got BritRail tickets, which we used to travel free of charge on every train in Britain. As much as we had been planning the trip for weeks, it wasn't until two hours before departure that I started packing my backpack. Obviously, half of the clothes, which I put in at the last minute, turned out to be useless in the end. Can opener, corkscrew, cutlery, toothpaste — all that I had to borrow from Andi. Anyway, I packed my father's very old four-person tent, which he probably still had from the Second World War. Unfortunately, at the train station in Düsseldorf, the tent turned out to be too heavy, so we left it lying on the platform.

We wanted to travel throughout England at all costs. Our stated goal was to see as many Punk bands in as short a time as possible. After getting off the ferry at Dover and passing through security checkpoint, we went to the nearest newsagent to buy the New Musical Express, which was the best weekly music magazine in England. Unlike German music magazines like BRAVO or Musikexpress, the NME, as it was called, had a serious newspaper format. It was our reliable compass in the sea of new Punk bands constantly emerging from England. You could also get the NME in Düsseldorf at the train station, but the newest issue was always the previous week's edition.

On the train from Dover to London, we opened the most important page for us: Nationwide Gig Guide, to find out which band was playing when and where. The Piranhas in Brighton on Monday, UK Subs in Leeds on Tuesday, The Extras in London on Wednesday, Adam & The Ants in York on Thursday, Sham 69 in London again on Saturday, etc. In the capital, the Punk movement was leaving its peak behind and the first bands, such as the Sex Pistols, had already broken up again. In other cities, things were just getting started.

Punks with their radical attitude to class struggle contrasted staunchly and with vociferous resistance to "Maggie" Thatcher's Britain. Punk was perceived worldwide, but in the late '70s it was a very English and thoroughly political issue. They shouted No future against the Hippie slogan Love & Peace. The concerts weren't meant to be just nice evenings with music, they served as a meeting place for those who were disgruntled. Not only with their lives, but with everything: the lousy job, the shitty flat, the incomprehension of their parents shaking their heads. They wanted to fight against all that, no matter how they sang: No more heroes and Do something. They started occupying buildings and founding organisations such as Rock against Racism and the Anti Nazi League. In 1977, that stance hit me like a bombshell. I felt like a blind man who could suddenly see. I went to the hairdresser, paid 5 DM, got my hair cut and took part.

Our clothes were our uniform and sympathisers recognised each other immediately, even if they had never seen each other before.

Sitting on the London Underground with Andi, we were approached by a group of Punks: "Alright, lads? You got some fags?"

"Sorry, we're not smoking...", Andi replied. We struck up a conversation with the group and one of them asked where we were going. His hair was shaved and dyed leopard print and he wore an angry red leather jacket.

"To the Rainbow to see Sham 69.", I replied.

"To see Sham? Are you crazy? A bunch of Skinheads from the National Front announced their presence tonight and there's going to be a lot of fuss. Come with us. We're going out to Ashford to see the UK Subs. We'll all be there tonight." As intimidated as we were, Andi and I didn't hesitate for too long.

"No, thanks. We have to go there today.", I replied. Another guy shook his head and said: "Don't do it... but it's your decision. We warned you. If you change your mind, just go later. The Subs take the stage at nine p.m."

They got off the train at the next station and Andi and I continued alone to Finsbury Park, where the Rainbow Theatre was. Sham 69 was one of my favourite bands. Unfortunately, they decided to split up. It became impossible for them to do a show without massive violent fights because also the Skinhead scene demanded Sham and their singer Jimmy Pursey for themselves. That's why during the shows there were real battles for the band. Pursey and his musicians tried to pacify the groups and came up with a song called If the Kids are United, but the attempt failed brutally. Before long, Sham 69 had the same problem as English football clubs at the stadiums. This didn't detract from their legend.

"Andi, if they end up killing us over there... We have to see that band once in our lives. I'd never forgive myself if we don't go now because we're cowards."

"I'm going with you.", Andi replied and with that he anticipated the future credo of the Hosen Alle oder keiner (Everyone or no one), and so we hesitantly walked along Seven Sisters Road to the Rainbow Theatre. Originally, this theatre had been a gigantic cinema with a capacity of almost three thousand spectators. There were already a lot of people outside: Skins, Rockers, also ordinary people, but, as the guy in the underground had predicted, unfortunately very few Punks. We picked up our tickets at the pre-sale and passed through the entrance control without any problems. All quiet so far. I thought nothing could happen to us once we were inside. The security at the Rainbow was going to keep an eye on things.

How wrong I was! As much as they had a bunch of tough guys and boxers among them, security guards didn't even stand a chance. The night got off to a quiet start. A band called The Low Numbers put in a lot of effort, but the disinterested people stayed at the beer stands and preferred to sing football chants. Andi and I stood downstairs in the centre of the room, above us was a huge balcony packed with fans and sometimes a glass of beer would fly down. Good mood.

Until Sham 69 took the stage and all hell broke loose. Right in front of the stage everyone was moshing, but only a few metres further back, in the dark part of the hall, wild fights broke out, in which different groups were involved. Sometimes, the ones who were downstairs tried to storm the balcony and the ones who were upstairs jumped to the ground floor and made their way to the stage, punches were flying everywhere.

Escaping to the exit now seemed impossible, all the ways were blocked. The only ones who seemed to remain untouchable in this mess were a group of biker-rockers, who apparently nobody wanted to mess with. Fifteen to twenty people, long hair, leather caps, thick rings on their fingers and easily ten years older than anyone here. They were standing relaxed with their girlfriends in the background against a wall and watching what was going on calmly and in anticipation.

Andi and I stood next to them and struck up a conversation with one of them. He had tattooed neck and arms and was 6'2" tall. We tried to look like we belonged to their group. Surely they must have found it amusing.

"It's a bit of a rough evening, isn't it? We're from Germany, we don't know what's going on." The rocker smiled at us. Big crooked teeth, also some golden ones among them. He inmediately understood what was going on. "You stay with us, mate.", he said and put us behind him and among his friends.

All around us, panic was spreading. After five songs, in the middle of Hersham Boys, the band had to stop their show. Jimmy Pursey shouted into the microphone for them to stop fighting and left the stage with his band. The situation calmed down for a moment, the thugs seemed hesitant: punching or live music? After that pause and a few more messages, Sham 69 tried to continue with their show. Hardly had they reached the second chorus and it was all one big massive battle again.

Jimmy Pursey angrily shouted: "We tried to give you everything. You fucking cunts will never understand! You fucking ruined it all!"

He turned around, ripped the drum off the bottom of the drum kit and threw it into the crowd. Chaos! They pulled down an iron curtain in front of the stage, security guards took cover at the back, the fights in the hall continued and slowly moved outside.

At an opportune moment, Andi and I said goodbye to the rockers and ran through the emergency exits, into the street and to the underground station, but the police had already closed it as a precaution. We kept running down the street until we could get on a bus, which stopped at a traffic light. Behind us, there were still chase scenes, but we had made it. A skinhead, who was also at the concert, got on the bus with us. Apparently, he wanted nothing to do with the trouble.

He gasped: "What a waste. It was Arsenal against Chelsea fans. The gooners won." Apparently, the Arsenal Skins wouldn't tolerate Chelsea fans on their turf. Andi and I looked at each other shaking our heads. Maybe we should have gone with the London Punks to see the UK Subs, but then we had to laugh at ourselves. Sham 69 — we saw them!

However, from now on only Punk shows, no Skinheads, please, because it was always like that, no matter where we went, we always felt part of a group. Among us Punks there was an implicit solidarity, also in this context was Us and them, us against all the others, as I got to know later at away games in football. As soon as a patrol car turned the corner to check on us, the whole group gathered closer together, closing ranks. We knew that if they tried to take just one of us, we would all be in the same bag.

As we wanted to invest all our money in concert tickets and vinyls, unfortunately there was no money planned for accommodation in the budget. We planned to have my father's tent. We had to get a new one in London, an early blow to our travel savings. Over the next few weeks, the new and much lighter tent went into action in various places: on a golf course in Scotland, in the front garden of a house in Brighton or in York City Park — even though the Yorkshire Ripper, the serial killer, supposedly was around at the time.

A good alternative to the tent was to sleep on trains. We once went on the Flying Scotsman to Edinburgh, only to return to London the same night. That way we also went to Liverpool, where we stayed at the station for a few hours. Lime Street Station was the first, and for the moment the only, thing I knew of Liverpool. To explore the city, we lacked the money, and neither talk about having to watch a football match, plus it was summer and football was in recess.

So we took a train back to the south and slept for a few hours. We brushed our teeth and the most important things of personal hygiene in public toilets, that's why we preferred cities on the coast, where the conditions usually were better. Sometimes, we also went to the sea and had breakfast on the beach. Our breakfast was white bread and jam for 14 days, but Andi dropped the jar of jam on the sand on the second day and, as we didn't want to invest two precious pounds to buy another one, from now on it crunched between our teeth when we chewed it. Two pounds could have been two vinyl "Singles" in a Record-&-Tape-Exchange shop. After the trip, I didn't eat any more jam for many years.

There were also days when no band we were interested in was playing in the whole of Britain. On those days, we spent our time with a very special game: In the morning, we would bet on where we would end the night and whoever's bet got closest to the destination train station, which we had chosen by rolling a dice, would win. There were tough negotiations.

Andi: I'll bet my new Single Tommy Gun by The Clash on Exeter. If I win, I get your Buzzcocks."

Me: "Are you crazy? Buzzcocks? It's limited. If you win, I'll give you la Cortinas — that's enough! Anyway, we're going to end up in Ipswich."

So we sat on the platform. Two teenagers from Germany wearing torn t-shirts and carrying heavy backpacks and big bags with vinyls inside. We took two dice, first to sort out the platform we were going to get on and then the number of stops we were going to travel. So, sometimes, we ended up taking the slow, regional train to a suburb of London, nothing more, but it also took us to the north of Scotland, to Inverness. The lightness of simple being.

From Campino's book 'Hope Street: Wie ich einmal englischer Meister wurde' (2020)

[copper-dust]

Hey! I read your transcript of an episode of your podcast, The Fantic Writer's Craft, and found it super fascinating. Have you or Jo ever considered writing an article for Transformative Works and Cultures? (That’s the peer-reviewed academic journal the OTW supports alongside AO3, Open Doors, and Fanlore)

@pebblysand can answer for herself on this one. I will note that our interest in fanfiction theory is a little different--Jo is interested in legality and monetization as well as how sites like AO3 are run, whereas I'm interested in the history of fandom culture, internet culture, and fanfiction as a form of alt publication.

I have not considered writing for the peer-reviewed journal. Academic writing is a totally different beast than writing fiction or podcasting. I'm not sure I'm the right person to do that sort of work. My strength is in writing fiction rather than doing the kind of academic work you're talking about. That being said, if I were to write an academic article for publication on a topic that relates to fanfiction, here are some specific areas that might interest me:

-collecting/anthologizing or curating lists of fanfic recommendations

-fanfiction in print

-multimedia fan works, such as videos or comics

- Harry Potter fanfiction culture of the early-mid 2000s

-culture of "tiny fandoms" with >100 active members

-fanfiction of non-narrative origins (such as music fanfiction, RPF, advertising, etc.)

-adolescent writing development and fanfiction

[unknown343343]

Questions

hey @cakelunav I have questions for you

1. What’s your thoughts on Stendy? (I’m a Stendy Fantic and Stendy Shipper)

2. Who do you ship Wendy with?

3. What’s your Opinion on Deep Learning Episode? (Stendy Episode)

4. What’s your thoughts on Stendy Shippers and Stendy Fans?

[tumblsexiestmemes]

TUMBLR CONTROVERSY BRACKER

[Image ID: a bracket of 22 contenders. the left side lists: i_am-fish vs Sixpence Heals; Rabid Loving vs Bone Stealing Witch; Dashcon vs Rose Christo; The Onceler vs Cole Sprouse; Miss Officer & Mr Truffles vs Tramp Stamps. the right side lists: The 100 False Flag vs Mishapocalypse; Toe Necklace vs John Green Cock Monologue; Russian Psyop vs RCDart; All or Nothing vs Hamilton AIDS Fantic; The Johnlock Conspiricy vs 2017 NSFW Ban; #girl vs Homestuck Shapie Bath]

Hey Folks here it is. some of these might not totally count as ‘controversies’ as much as things that happened to tumblr but we’re going with it anyways.

Round one will go up March 5th, at 12:30, CST, and will last a week.

if there are any I’m missing, let me know, I’ll squeeze in what I can.

[saltyermilk]

Hey guys, you all love gay fantic right?

Well i have made the most OPTIMAL playlist for you to listen while making a gay fanfic, (and gay fanfic specifically) dont worry its a nornal Playlist :)

The playlist

[danganstickmintrademark]

Please welcome @fanaticalfool to the mod team!)

[uwillbeefoundtonight]

That episode killed me and I know there's worse to come

[mysteryartisticwriter]

Body Stealing Black-Eyed Bitch // Jack Kline/Belphegor X Reader

A/N: I was a fan of the show ‘Supernatural’ WAY before I started to write on this account. I’ve always wanted to write for it but I lost interest in it before I could. But lately, since the show is ending, I got back into my love for the show. My favorite character is of course, baby boy Jack. I just love him so much

TAKES PLACE DURING 15x01 (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Blood, death and some angst

PART 2

Not my gifs!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

-

Seeing the love of your life die right before your eyes, knowing you couldn’t do anything, was one of the most traumatizing things you’ve ever encountered.

Jack Kline, the sweet Nephilim, was being killed by someone you thought was a friend right in front of you. No one could see it coming, Dean was just about to kill Jack until he managed to come to his senses and lower his gun. Chuck apparently didn’t like it.

With a snap of his fingers, Jack’s screams echoed through your ears and a bright light showed where his eyes and mouth would be. He fell to the ground in pain.

“Jack? Jack!” Castiel asked fantically, kneeling down next to him.

“What’s happening?” Dean asked Chuck.

“Stop it. Stop it!” You screamed, starting to run towards him.

Chuck waved his hand and sent you flying back to a nearby gravestone, breaking it in half and causing you to black out for a few moments. Your head pounded as you tried to sit up, your body aching.

You looked up to see Dean and Cas still trying to help a screaming Jack on the ground, not knowing what to do. As Chuck walked away, Sam looked around for anything. He picked up the gun (the one Chuck said could kill anything) and pointed it at the man.

“Hey Chuck!”

The man turned around and Sam fired the gun straight towards him.

However, once he shot the bullet, it just bounced right off of Chuck’s shoulder and into Sam’s. Sam fell to the ground and Chuck looked at his damaged suit with a displeased face.

“Fine! That’s the way you want it?” Chuck said, looking over all of you.

Each of you looked towards him, scared of what was going to happen next.

“Story’s over. Welcome to the End.”

Suddenly, the sky went pure black. The graveyard was quiet as the rest of you laid on the grass in defeat. Chuck disappearing without a trace.

Groaning in pain, you stood up and tried to run over to your friends.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam.

“Yup. Y-Yup, I’m good.” He replied, obviously still in pain from the bullet.

As you helped him up, you looked over to wear Jack laid on the ground from before, Dean and Cas leaning over him with distraught faces.

“I thought Chuck said that the gun was the only thing that could...” Dean stopped his sentence midway.

Cas looked off far into the distance, trying his best not to break down crying.

“He’s a writer. Writers lie.”

Once you managed to get a closer look at Jack’s body, you covered your mouth trying to muffle a sob. Tears ran down your face as you saw the body of your boyfriend, lifeless and his eyes burnt out. A sign showing that he was gone forever.

You dropped to your knees in despair, doing your best to cover your crying. Dean crawled over to you on the ground and held you in his arms. He had always been like a father figure to you, seeing you so broken was terrible for him. You all had lost Jack, one of the kindest and innocent boys to ever exist.

You felt a rumbling sound come from the ground and you looked up, cheeks full of tears. All four of you stood up in confusion, looking around and off not too far in the distance, you could make out the figures of something escaping from the ground.

At first only a few flew out, then dozens of them came out flying in all directions.

“What the hell is happening?” Dean yelled out.

“The souls,” Castiel told you. “They’re all souls from Hell.”

You and Sam glanced at the angel in horror. Somehow, Chuck had managed to let the souls of Hell escape? As if things weren’t already bad enough.

You kind of spoke too soon. Cracks in the graveyard ground formed and an explosion appeared in front of a stone. When the dust disappeared, the rotting corpse of a man replaced it, walking towards you.

The same thing happened with other gravestones as well, souls flying into their old bodies and popping out of the ground.

Dean had found two iron spears for him and his brother, while you and Cas only had your angel blades, yours being a gift from him. The zombies started to walk to you four, enclosing you in circle. You got into your fighting stance, ready to attack.

Dean went first, trying to kill the clostest ones to him and then the rest of you followed. Cas expelled souls from their bodies, Dean and Sam fighting off as many as they could, and you were going all out on stabbing and killing them.

“Sam! Dean! (Y/n)!” You heard Cas call.

While still trying to fight the corpses, you focused your attention on your friend. You saw him out of the corner of his eye take Jack’s body over his shoulder and run off, the rest of you behind him.

You helped Dean and Sam kill off the ones that were in the way, making a clear path for Cas.

“This way!”

Sam had directed you guys toward into a mausoleum for shelter. You all ran inside and shut the doors tight. Taking a moment to catch your breaths, Cas set Jack down on the ground.

You were trapped in the crypt like flies in a venus fly trap. Maybe Chuck was right, maybe this is the end. While the Winchester brothers and the angel tried their best to think of a way out, you sat on the ground and laid on a wall, your boyfriend’s body not far away.

You felt tears build up in your eyes again, close to breaking down once more. You could hardly look at his body, knowing you could never seen his bright smile or hear his soft voice again.

Memories came back from Kevin Tran, your old best friend. Both of them with their eyes burnt out and dead. You failed to save him too, you failed both of them. Now, they were both gone and all you wanted to do was go join them.

A sound in the walls drew your attention. It wasn’t a familiar sound but it didn’t mean it wasn’t good either.

“Guys.” You tried to call out to the three men.

But they continued to talk and argue amongst each other. You rolled your eyes and yelled to them again.

“Guys!” This time, you got their attention almost immediately.

“I hear something. Something inside the walls.” You said, pushing your ear against the wall and followed the sounds to another one.

“Could be just a sewage pipe line.” Dean suggested.

The sounds in the wall started to get louder, like a pounding. You backed away from the wall and Dean walked past you, pulling a thick concrete slab off the wall to reveal a bunch of bricks.

The brick wall was broken open by another corpse, all of you jumping in shock as the zombie snarled at you. You whipped out your angel blade as the brothers held their spears.

“Cas, a little help here.” Dean said.

The said angel picked up the large cement block and dumped it right onto the dead body. It died and you watched as the soul left its body.

“Well so much for the pipes.”

“The hell are we gonna do now?” Dean questioned.

You and the boys looked around the chambre for anything that could be used as a weapon or an escape route.

“Hello.”

Your heart stopped, you knew that voice. You turned around quickly to see Jack- or at least the body of Jack standing across the room.

You looked at him shocked, wondering what was happening. Was Jack alive? No, he couldn’t be. His eyes were burnt out by Chuck, God. But then, who was the one standing across from you?

“Jack.” Sam whispered in disbelief.

You and the others looked over him, he seemed as alive as ever but just without eyes.

“You’re alive.”

“That’s not Jack. It’s a demon.” Cas said, staring down the body of his son.

“What?” You asked, shocked and confused at the same time.

You knew it wasn’t really him, but a part of you wanted to believe it was.

“Yeah...sorry about that.” The demon apologized, shrugging.

“How in the hell...?” Dean started to say.

“Look I just got here and uhh...I needed a body. So...”

“So you’re a demon?” Sam wanted to confirm.

You started to get angry at this demon. There was no way in hell that you were going to let your love’s body be used by some black-eyed bitch.

“Yeah well I-I would do the whole eyes thing but,” He waved his hand over where his eyes would be. “No eyes.”

He clapped his hands together and looked around the room before setting his eyes-err eye sockets onto a pair of white sunglasses in the corner. A pair that belonged to Jack.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked in anger.

The demon picked up the glasses and set them on his face, making him look like a real human. Making him look just like Jack.

He smiled. “Blending.”

“Get out of him.” Castiel sneered.

“Look, I-I know it’s weird. Okay um,” the demon sighed. “Where do I start? Like the first day of school, I guess. Hi! My name is Belphegor and I’m here from-“

You interrupted him by pushing him against one of the tomb’s pillars, your angel blade against his neck.

“Get out of him.”

The demon just laughed in amusement.

“Cute, I’ve heard about you. You’re much hotter in person than what people say.”

In response, you just pushed him further against the pillar. Your eyes full of fury.

“I won’t ask again.” You hissed.

“No, I can help. Okay, I can help!” He pleaded, looking towards the three men still across the room.

“Why the hell would be want your help? You body stealing black-eye bitch-“

“(Y/n), let him speak.” Dean interrupted you, walking to your side.

“No, don’t, he’s an abomination!” Castiel yelled as he came next to you.

“You’re an abomination to wear that stupid, dumb trench coat.”

You just forced him more into the concrete pillar and glared at him.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), listen to me,” Dean pushed you off of the demon in your boyfriend’s body and directed your focus to him. “We need the help.”

“Like hell we do.”

“He is defiling Jack’s corpse!” Cas tried to tell Dean.

“But if-if he can help,” Dean pointed to the demon. “Jack’s gone! Alright? So let’s listen to what the demon has to say. If we don’t what he says, then we stab him.”

“Cas, (Y/n),” You looked to the taller Winchester sibling. “Dean’s right.”

Not really agreeing but backing off anyway, you slowly walked over to the demon.

“You try anything and I will send you back to where you came from.” You threatened him.

He just wolf-whistled back at you as you went over next to Sam. Belphegor then proceeded to walk to the middle of the room.

“Got a lot of fire in that one. Good thing I like fire, then.”

“Shut it.”

“So we are-“ Sam was about to say before being interrupted by Belphegor.

“The Winchesters. Ah, I know. I read the papers.”

“You have newspapers in Hell?” Dean asked.

“Yeah the wifi sucks. Anyway, I’m guessing this whole thing is kinda of uh...you?” Guessed the demon.

“No. It was God.” Cas corrected him.

Belphegor laughed for a moment, thinking he was joking until he noticed that no one else had laughed.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“It’s a long story.” Sam told him.

“Okay, okay well listen. I’m not some cross road demon, I’m not even one of those black-eyed goons who crawled his way up here and eats virgins, puppies...or virgin puppies.” He joked.

“Look, downstairs I punch a clock. A soul comes in, I torment it- it’s what I do.”

“What’s your point?” You impatiently asked.

“The point is, sweetheart...I like my job! I like Hell the way it is or was. So all those bad guys,” Belphegor pointed to the sounds of the dead souls still pounding on the door. “You want them back where they came from, right? Well, me too! Okay we’re...we’re twinsies, guys!”

“We are not twinsies.” Cas growled at the demon.

Sam gestured up to the sounds of the zombies. “Can you fix this?”

“Umm...no. But I can get you out of here.”

“How?”

“Oh just a little spell. You know, nothing major. I just need some graveyard dirt,” he said as he picked up some soil on the ground. “And some uh, angel blood.”

Cas held up his hand until you grabbed his wrist, protesting against the action.

“No, no he’s not handing over his blood to you!”

“(Y/n)-“ Sam tried to convince you but you ignored him.

“No! What if he’s not actually helping us, hm? He could take Cas’ blood and end up making us...into those zombies outside.”

Dean looked tired, not wanting to deal with you at the moment. “Do you wanna get out of here or not? We could always stay trapped down here until those things eat us alive.”

You bit your lip anxiously, a habit you’ve always had.

“Come on, doll. Don’t you trust me?” The demon inside your boyfriend asked, grinning.

You said nothing and let go of Castiel’s hand, allowing him to cut his palm open with his angel blade and pour his blood over the dirt in Belphegor’s hand.

The man walked into the center of the room, holding out his hands then clapped. The pounding outside the doors silenced right away and the ingredients fell to the ground after the clap.

The guys ran to the doors to check the outside while you stayed back and stared down the demon. He noticed you looking at him and smiled.

“What? No thank you?”

You scoffed. “As if I’ll ever thank you.”

-

A/N: This is only part one! I wanted to make this longer and do the whole episode but this was already pretty long in itself so I’ll just do a second part later

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

[solohux]

Hey Lottie, I just realized that calling Hux a "rabid cur" is EVEN MORE insulting to the poor guy than it initially appears to be! So "rabid" is pretty obvious:- Hux is a fantic. He believes in The First Order's cause so fervently that it's actually kind of terrifying. But cur? Oh, that's more subtle... "Cur" is defined as a dog.... An inferior MONGREL with a poor temperament. Bet that illusion to his birth and upbringing REALLY stoked Hux's fires of hatred.

Oh my goodness, you’re so right! 💔 I really liked the rabid cur line to describe Hux but then the rest of the movie made him comic relief so I don’t really understand that one! It would have been nice to see Hux stepping up to become the Big Bad whilst covered in enemy blood and growling ‘I’ll show you a rabid cur’ before killing Snoke and taking the SL title for himself!

But you’re totally right about the mongrel thing! What a thing to call a bastard! Snoke probably knew that it would get under Hux’s skin because he knows about his insecurities regarding his upbringing. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel more sorry for Hux!