iâm actually blown away by the extreme lack of young sherlock fics. genuinely where tf are they at? especially ones about sherlock!! thereâs the occasional james moriarty x reader, but iâve only found one sherlock holmes x reader and the fact there isnât more is driving me insane. pls people we need to get on this, iâm desperate!!
Me and my friend got bored so we made a list of changes we thought shouldâve happened in Stranger Things instead
Seasons 1 & 2 are perfect nothing would change
The only changes in Season 3 are at the end. Hopper doesnât die and El doesnât loose her powers
Because Hopper doesnât die, Joyce and the Byers donât move to California. They stay in Hawkins where Joyce and Hopper begin seeing each other + they combine the Byers and Hopper households
In season 4 El goes to high school with the rest of the party. Will is apart of Hellfire with Dustin, Mike and Lucas and gets on well with Eddie.
After the campaign where Erica fills in for Lucas, Will stays behind to help Eddie clean up because Will has to wait anyways for Jonathan to pick him up.
While talking Eddie makes a âZombie Boyâ comment that visibly makes Will uncomfortable. Eddie backtracks saying itâs metal and that theyâre all freaks in Hell Fire but Will tells him âhe doesnât get itâ (hinting at Will being gay) Eddie doesnât say anything else as the two finish cleaning.
Jonathan is talking to Nancy while at school and she begins talking about how excited she is for college. Jonathan is about to tell her about never sending in his application but decides against it and instead finds Will and El to bring home.
While in the Car Johnathan picks up Argyle who heâs befriended. Argyle just so happens to also work with Robin and Steve.
Jonathan begins talking about the college thing with Nancy, which Will immediately begins commenting on telling Jonathan he canât just hide it from her forever
At home, El tries to radio Max who brushes her off making up an excuse that sheâs busy with something else.
Lucas radios El and they have a talk about Max and talk about what they should do
We have more written but Iâm too tired to post it now lmk if you want more
[Excerpt from Thick Skull - Ray Garraty x Fem!Reader (COMING SOON)]
I am a magnet for broken pieces.
I am attracted to broken people.
I pick 'em up and now my fingers are bleeding...
And it looks like my fault.
And it looks like I'm caught red-handed.
You and Ray were sitting on an old rusty swingset not far from your neighbouring houses, eating popsicles.
âIf you won The Long Walk - what would you wish for?â You asked.
âI would never enter The Long Walk.â He told you.Â
This confused you. But still, you persisted.
âCome on, if you did enter, and you won - what would you wish for?â You pressed, wanting to know his answer.Â
To you, it was a game. It was a theoretical discussion. It was fun.
âOkay, if I entered - which I wouldnât,â He said, specifically mincing his words. âIf I entered, and if somehow I won, I would probably wish for⌠I dunno, Iâd wish for a million popsicles,âÂ
He shrugged. At the moment, he could think of nothing so big and tangible that would largely improve his life. His family was poor, but the winner also got a lot of money without having to wish for it. His father warned him that the money wasnât worth potentially dying over - so he should never enter. He should just try to work hard to earn his own money, even if that seemed difficult or impossible.Â
âIf you won, youâd be rich.â You reminded him. âThe winner gets like - a gazillion dollars. You could just buy a million popsicles. Thatâs a dumb wish.âÂ
In the back of his mind, he considered wishing that you would have to stay with him forever. That you would have to marry him and you would never get to leave. But he figured you wouldnât like that, so he didn't say it out loud. Maybe thatâs why he wanted to wish for you. Because you thought he was dumb, and the second you got the chance - you would leave him.
He shrugged. âWell, I guess Iâm dumb.âÂ
âI would enter but - they donât let girls in.â You sighed, sounding mournful over it.
Ray did feel a sense of relief at this. You loved The Long Walk, and he knew that if you could have, you would have entered as soon as you turned eighteen. And you would have entered as many times as it took for you to be chosen. You would have been their proud, enthusiastic poster child if you were a boy.Â
So, knowing that it was all purely theoretical, he decided to play into your game.Â
âWhat would you wish for if you won?â He asked you.Â
âTwo million popsicles.â You grinned. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head, and then you said: âMaybe Iâd wish for The Long Walk to include girls too.âÂ
âOkay, now thatâs dumb.â Ray scolded you. âCause if they included girls, then you would already be there. Your wish would be useless.âÂ
âMaybe Iâll dress up as a boy and sneak in.â You shrugged, sounding entirely too pleased with yourself.Â
Ray felt a sharp pain through his stomach, like he had been punched.Â
âYouâre way too pretty to ever pass as a boy. Nobody would believe you.â
...
Many years later, you and Ray were sitting on the porch, sharing a stale old cigarette, trying to forget about the world.
Eventually, when it was nothing but a small nub, he stomped it under the heel of his old, worn-out boot. As the silence lulled between the two of you, and as he suspected that you would likely get up and leave any moment - he knew that he couldnât wait much longer.Â
He had to tell you.Â
âIâm doing The Walk.âÂ
He announced it suddenly, hoping to rip off the metaphorical band-aid, and in a moment, the air changed around the two of you.
âI was selected for The Long Walk. Iâm the home state walker. I-âÂ
Anything further he had to say was disrupted by a harsh slap across the face. He shouldnât have been surprised, and though you had clearly intended to hurt him, the stinging pain wasnât nearly as bad as the shock - the shock that you would hit him.Â
âOw!âÂ
âHow could you do this?â You screeched. âHow could you do this to us?! How the fuck could you be such an idiot, Raymond Garraty? How could you be so selfish?!âÂ
He barely had the capacity to take in the way you used âusâ - as though the two of you were a couple, as though you were married, as though you were undoubtedly an item that he was selfishly trying to break apart without consulting you first. Perhaps in your mind, you were looping in his mother as well - that âusâ being the two of you, the women who would have to mourn him when he (in your mind) inevitably didnât come home.
âSelfish? How the fuck can you call me selfish when Iâm doing this for the betterment of-?âÂ
âDonât feed me that bullshit!â You screamed back, and he immediately shushed you. âYou fuckinâ hypocrite. You hate everything they stand for and youâre gonna turn into some fucking toy for their amusement? Donât tell me that you of all people have fallen for the bullshit in those pamphlets - not after everything your dad taught you.âÂ
âItâs not about the goddamn pamphlets.â He shook his head. âOr the posters, or the commercials. Iâm doing this for me.â He knew he couldnât tell you his real reasoning, or surely - you would slap him again. God forbid you would want to try and help. âWe need the money-âÂ
âNo!â You shouted again. âDonât loop me into your stupid, nut job idea!â
You were never going to forgive him for this.
...
If you want to see the full fic when it comes out in two long parts, follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes - the first part should be coming out within the next month, and I will be posting updates about it there.
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Reader x Stebbins
Chapter Word Count: 1801
Summary:
You were from the well-liked Thorne family in District 7, and you were vaguely aware of your classmate, Billy Stebbins.
He seemed to have no friends, always keeping to himself, though he occasionally helped those who asked for help with errands and chores, yourself included. You rarely interacted. You were pretty sure he didn't even know your name.
That is, until you're both reaped for the 74th annual Hunger Games.
In which Reader and Stebbins are tributes in The Hunger Games.
Read on AO3
(This fic is inspired by this post by fixalice!)
It was a week before the Reaping.
You were trying not to count the days, but it was going to be your final reaping, and you were looking forward to getting the day over with. Once the dread of being reaped was finally gone, you felt like you could properly look forward to the rest of your life.
But until then, it was business as usual.
You were the only one inside the Thorne house that morning. You were standing over the stove, toasting some bread for your breakfast. Your father was already at work for the day, and your mother was outside tending to the garden. Your older sister, who everyone called Sissy (you were shocked as a child to learn that wasnât her real name), was probably out in the woods, hunting game or foraging.
You flipped your toast, wrinkling your nose a little as you realized you burned it a little, but oh well. It was toast all the same.
You heard the back door open just as you were taking the toast off the stove, and looked up to see Ma dusting the dirt off her hands.
âHoney, do you think you could get some more firewood for us today?â She asked.
You had just taken a bite of toast, so you nodded instead of answering verbally.
âHow about you ask the Stebbins boy for help?â She continued. You made a face at her, swallowing your bite before answering.
âI can get firewood by myself just fine, Ma.â
âYes, but two people can carry more firewood than one,â She countered, giving you a pointed look that told you not to argue with her.
âOkay, okay,â You relented, shoving more toast into your mouth. Your family had enough firewood as-is, but your parents always liked to be over-prepared. You sometimes joked that âBetter to have it and not need itâ was the Thorne family motto.
As you were finishing your breakfast (which didnât take long), the back door opened again, and in walked Sissy, who set down a ruck sack full of foraged plants onto the table.
âBack already?â You asked, reaching over and opening the sack a little to peek at what sheâd gathered.
âIâve been gone for hours, Bug,â Sissy said, using your family nickname. âSome of us get up at reasonable times.â
You scrunched your nose at her, âGetting up before the sun is up is not reasonable.â
âPa does it,â She pointed out.
âI stand by my statement,â You took your last bite of toast.
âThatâs enough from both of you,â Ma scolded, before turning to you, âGo get the firewood, before it gets even hotter out.â
âOkay, okay!â You replied, getting up and heading for the door.
â
The Stebbins house was only a few houses down from yours, so it didnât take very long for you to get there. You knocked on the front door and waited. After a moment, a thin woman with sunny blonde hair opened the door.
âHi Miss Stebbins,â You greeted, âCan I borrow your son for a little bit?â
Miss Stebbins looked back into the house and called, âBilly, itâs a friend of yours.â
You and Billy Stebbins were not friends. Billy Stebbins didnât have friends, as far as you knew. You were pretty sure he didnât even know your name. But you werenât going to be the one to tell his mother this.
Miss Stebbins stepped back inside, just as a tall, blonde, well-built boy stepped into the doorway. Billy Stebbins himself.
To be perfectly clear, Stebbins was very attractive. Youâd have to be stupid not to know that. All the girls and some of the boys in school whispered about how cute he was, and even you occasionally caught yourself staring at him. He could easily date anyone he wanted, but he seemed to have no interest in that.
Stebbins didnât say anything to you when he got to the door, he just raised his eyebrows a little when he saw you.
âMy Ma wants to know if youâll help me get firewood today,â You had to make it abundantly clear this was your motherâs idea, not yours. Your family tended to baby you, so you did your best to make clear that you could take care of yourself and be independent, even if they seemed to think otherwise. Most of you hoped Stebbins would say no to helping you, but you knew he always helped when asked. There was a small part of you that liked that.
Stebbins looked back into the house and said, âMom, Iâll be back in a bit,â before stepping outside and shutting the door behind him.
The two of you walked in silence as you headed to the lumberyard. You personally were never good at small talk, and either Stebbins was also bad at it or didnât care for it, maybe both.
Your mind wandered to the first time you ever interacted with StebbinsâŚ
â
You were at the market with your father, helping him set up his booth. On the first Saturday of every month, a market would pop up in District 7âs town square, and people who couldnât afford a store front would sell their wares.
Your father made wood carvings as a hobby, and would sell them at this market. He had just started teaching you how to wood carve yourself, at ten years old. You were atrocious, still being a beginner, but he let you bring your best piece to the market today.
You had just finished placing all the carvings, your own amateur work in the corner of the table next to your fatherâs more polished, intricate pieces. Your father did all the talking and bartering, while you sat and people-watched.
Across the way, you spotted Billy Stebbins. He seemed to be at the market alone, or at least his mother was nowhere in sight. You felt a pang of jealousy, you wish your parents trusted you to go shopping alone at ten years old, but at this age you had to go everywhere supervised. Stebbins had a stack of sticks tied to his back, most likely kindling he was collecting for the fireplace.
âYou wanna know something about that boy?â You jumped in your seat, not realizing your father had just leaned over to talk to you. Pa let out a hearty laugh, and you looked at him with curiosity. He motioned back to Stebbins, before saying to you in a low voice so no one else could hear, âThat boyâs daddy was a Peacekeeper.â
Your eyes widened and you looked back at Stebbins with apprehension. âThatâs bad, right?â You whispered.
âSome would say so. Never trust a Peacekeeper, Bug,â Pa said, âBut that being said, that donât mean the Stebbins boy is bad. He canât help who his daddy is. And from what Iâve seen, heâs a good kid. You think heâs a good kid, Bug?â
You looked back at Stebbins, but before you could think of your answer, Stebbins looked over at you and you locked eyes. You froze, and mightâve tried to duck underneath the table if not for your fatherâs hand on your shoulder. Stebbins walked over to your booth and silently looked at all the carvings on the table.
âSee anything you like, kid?â Pa asked in a friendly voice. Stebbins didnât answer right away, but instead picked up your piece. It was rabbitâ Or at least, it was supposed to be a rabbit. It only vaguely resembled one, but it looked just enough like a rabbit that you were proud of it.
âWhatâs this one?â Stebbins asked, holding it up and looking at you instead of your father.
âItâs a rabbit,â You said, puffing your chest a little with pride, âI carved it myself.â
He looked back at the rabbit, turning it over in his hand and tilting his head a little as he looked at it. You silently dared him to say anything negative about your rabbit. He looked back at you, âHow much?â
ââŚHuh?â
âHow much for it?â
You looked at your father with shock, who simply motioned for you to go on. You stuttered out a price to Stebbins, and he dug around his pocket, pulling out and counting his money, before handing you the proper amount. Your hands brushed as you took the money from him.
âPleasure doinâ business with youâŚ!â You said. He nodded at you, sticking the rabbit in his pocket and walking back through the market.
âGood job, Bug. You made your first sale!â Pa patted your shoulder and you beamed at him.
â⌠Heâs a good kid,â You declared.
âI agree with you there, Bug.â
â
The two of you made it to the lumberyard and took as many pieces of firewood that you could carry. You were hoping that your father would be there, so you could say hi to him, but when you asked one of the workers there he said your father was stationed in the woods that day.
When you got back to your house, you led Stebbins around to the backyard, where your family kept the pile of firewood. You slung your firewood off your back and into the pile, and Stebbins followed suit.
He looked over the pile of unchopped wood, and suddenly asked, âDo you need help chopping any of it?â
âI can handle chopping it myself, thanks,â You replied, looking over at him. He lingered for a moment, before shrugging.
âOkay. Have a good day.â
âYou too,â You replied, as he turned and started heading back to his house. You watched him walk away until he was out of your sight, then turned and looked at the pile of wood you were going to have to chop. Damn, maybe you shouldâve taken his offer of help.
You grabbed a few logs of wood and carried them over to a tree stump, where an axe was stuck in. You dumped the wood next to it and placed one on the stump, pulling the axe out of the stump and getting ready to start chopping.
Youâd chopped a few pieces into more appropriate sizes, when Sissy came outside, seemingly to watch you work.
âHey Bug, you wanna do some target practice after dinner today?â
You looked at your sister, then looked at some of the trees in your backyard, which were full of cuts and divots. Years ago, your sister taught you how to throw knives and axes, âjust in caseâ. You practiced fairly frequently, keeping up with it as long as the Peacekeepers werenât frequenting your neighborhood.
You nodded, âYeah, sure.â You knew what your sister was anxious about, but hopefully in one week your talent would prove to be needless. You chopped one more piece of wood, and decided that would be enough for now.
Hi! I saw you reblogged and asked if you could write the Stebbins - The Hunger Games Au and pls pls plssss do. Iâm so bad at writing fics and Iâd love to see someone actually do it!
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