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nikoadari · 1 year

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Teaser: A Child in Need, Pt. 2

“You don’t understand,” Samuel tried to explain weakly. “The fae will come for me. They’re police. You’ll be in danger. And my parents, they’re waiting for me. I have to go save them before–”

Ayubu cut him off. “You are not saving anyone in your condition, boy. And I told you, we are already searching for them. You have done enough. You must look after your health now.” He lifted the covers and ushered Samuel into bed, and he was too tired to resist.

“Try to stay awake for a few minutes. I will bring you a light dinner before you sleep again.”

Samuel ate and drank in a daze, and his mumbles of feeling too hot were ignored as Ayubu pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Sleep. You are safe here, little one.”

#nikoadariwrites #my writing #urban fantasy #fantasy #fae #teaser #patreon #patreon only #black autistic author #bipoc authors #bipoc writers #queer writer #autistic author #creative writing #writing community #fantasy writing

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gxlden-angels · 4 months

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Bro I hate fundamentalists and culturally-fundie parents they'll say shit like "spare the rod spoil the child am I right haha yea my parents used to have to beat my ass with a switch almost everyday but I sure did learn my lesson" but like??? no you didn't??? you were hit multiple times for something you very obviously did not, in fact, learn

Like studies about how harmful even lightly spanking children is aside, you're literally contradicting yourself?? Some even admitted they got worse as they got older cause they wanted to see how far they could push their parents before they got punished

And studies not aside, you're gonna get child raising advice from the same book that tells you to stone your wife if her hymen doesn't break on your wedding night instead of the decades of research we have now?? Just say you're a bad parent and move on my guy. Skill issue

#bro I had a coworker go 'unpopular opinion I think some kids really do need beatings' and I'm like????#unprompted???? what's going on there????#well anyways I ended up going 'yea so I plan on specializing in play therapy with autistic children so I've been learning about talking #to children and the ways their parents and environment affects them'#and they're like hmmm but beating this kid with a stick after they broke something or I upset them to the point of yelling is good actually #had a boss say it taught him and his kids respect cause they were hard-headed #and I'm like?? that's fear not respect! they fear punishment! they do not act out of respect for you!#he's a conservative christian black man tho so he's like 'But Authority!' like bro I don't even respect you what are you on about #'You don't respect police and their authority?' Nope! I fear them! I do not respect cops and every cop/cop-adjacent person I personally know #has reinforced that for me #'We'll agree to disagree' Cool! Doesn't mean you're not wrong! I could believe trees aren't real but that is in fact incorrect #then he pulled out the bible verse and I was like ah okay I forgot you like 'here's how to treat slaves' book you're so right bestie #I'm totally wrong now and so sorry for doubting you and your 2000+ year old book I don't believe in <3 #They'd go 'well I turned out fine!' then say something that directly contradicts that #anyways I need christians to get their grubby little hands off the current state of Child Protection and Rights in the U.S.#So we can actually start working on helping kids without the force of christian hands suffocating them #cause homeschooling and child raising by evangelicals are so fucked up bro I'm tired of this shit #I'd only stay in my current state to help children get out of that cycle since I'm in the bible belt #ex christian #religious trauma #child abuse tw

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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months

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Why're og Pjo fans acting like Percy hating the gods and standing up to them is a new thing instead of a constant canon thing dating back all the way to The Lightning Thief.This is literally how he interacts with them and Luke(honorary god by virtue of his actions)in the books

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strangeauthor · 2 months

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im sorry i was hoping not to bring up cait corrian again but im seriously pissed off that she had the AUDACITY to say that her autism made her racist (oh wait im sorry she's supposedly not racist she just so happened to downvote people that just so happened to be people of color). not only does autism not make u racist u literally threw every autistic person under the fucking bus because you dont wanna admit youre a racist cunt who didnt want people of color to succeed in a field thats hard for us already

and again, what kills me the most is that she already had everything going for her!!!!! she had a huge publisher!!!! there were talks about her getting a movie deal!!!! literally everything most authors could dream of she had!!!!!

and she still didnt feel like that was enough and had to attack her debuts because she's so insecure and racist!!!! shut the hell up you dumb cunt!!!!!

#author makes a speech #ok this will hopefully be the last time i talk about this but this seriously pissed me off #because im autistic and im also black so uh yeah lol

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lartistrys · 29 days

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Chapter 34 is out!

#regulus black #jegulus #james potter #james x regulus #marauders #jegulus fanfic #jegulus fanfiction #sirius black #autistic regulus black #ao3 author #sirius and regulus #black brothers angst #black brothers #its actually our duty

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jasontoddssuper · 5 months

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Omg i was having a convo with one of my bestie's and it led to me realizing that the reason i hate most Dabi and Miguel Reader Insert content is that the writers make them act like white dudes................Third eye WIDE ASS OPEN

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mlkincaidbooks · 17 days

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My first ever text posts 👻👻

I have plans for an after-Hogwarts AU in the future.

#dramione #draco malfoy #dramione fan fiction #draco x hermione #dramione fanfiction #mlkincaidbooks #autistic author #black hermione granger #blackauthors #txt socmed au

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anonauthorsworkshop · 9 months

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I have a question, during the alagadda trip scp 035 was able to use their appendages and power without a body to carry MC around right. In the latest chapter when his hosts body decays he just sits there in defeat instead of using those same appendages to get to MC, is there something I'm missing?? 😭

i guess i should have made this more clear lol but basically 035 gets his arm ripped off by a 939, he reaches for the door but then his other arm just kinda falls off due to the secretions essentially melting it off and his host's body is now entirely decayed at this point and collapses. it is literally just a pile of messy black slop on the floor surrounded by 939s. his host is immobile and technically he could try to summon those weird tentacle things but the host is about to be mauled by 939s and manifesting those appendages takes him a lot of power and concentration, at least in my headcanon it does and like even if he does manage to create them it would be immensely difficult to progress henceforth due to MC basically being on a knowledge-high and completely unaware of their surroundings and all the trying-to-be-mobile-and-move-around and having-to-break-down-the-cell-door and protecting-MC while literally just being a mask

sorry for the rambling

#anonymous #author #answered #ask #pansophical pretender #scp 035 #scp 939 #very very sorry for the confusion #honestly been rereading some of the chapters lately and will be editing some of them #especially the earlier ones where i wasn't really taking the fic as seriously as i do now #to explain the headcanon: 035 is much weaker than he used to be in alagadda.#he has literally been reduced from the anguished black lord of alagadda to some mask that humans contain #he does not have the power he used to have #and in his scp file the addendums progressively get worse and worse about his containment and escape attempts #which i interpreted as 'leave him to fester and his power will grow'#so like it TAKES TIME for him to do such things like 'summoning appendages'#anyway enough of my autistic rambling. hope this cleared things up and i will be editing some of the chapters as i write new ones

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jmoonincorporated · 3 months

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A proper introduction.

Hello Audience,

I have been on tumblr for a couple of years and from time to time, I've rebranded. But I don't think I've ever done a proper, thorough, introduction. But since I am trying to make a career out of being a writer and I am also trying to make it my main income, I've decided it's time you all get to know me a bit.

So, My name is J.R Moon, well, it's the name I'm telling you all, of course.

I use he/they/hyr pronouns, I don't really have a preference for a set.

I'm Soulaan (Black American)

I have Autism, Hypersomnia, Anxiety and Chronic Pain

I'm Queer and Polyamorous*

And just an overall nerd.

I've always wanted to be a writer, but as y'all know, it's hard out here. I publish my works independently on Lulu and Etsy and I also do freelance writing!

But also, I know books can be expensive and not everyone has the money to buy a book. On top of that, not everyone has access to an expansive library, so I also post black queer literature on Wattpad! For free!

I write all kinds of fantasy, high fantasy, urban fantasy, cozy fantasy, you name it. I also write superhero stories, kind of like the one I have published now!

I write stories for:

black nerds who rarely get to see themselves in fantasy

Chronic pain besties who are tired of the magical healing trope

Polyamorous individuals who want to see their relationship dynamic represented

Queer people who are tired of the "bury your gays" trope.

Anyone who's interested in reading what I write!

I don't want to interact with you if:

Dislike weird/complex identities. I'm not in the business of identity discourse.

You don't think the publishing industry has a racism problem.

You're pro-is*ael

If you're pro-MAP/Pro-Zoo any of that nasty shit

If you're elitist and don't think graphic novels/visual novels/interactive novels/audiobooks/fanfiction count as reading.

If you support/dickride for problematic authors such as JKR or SJM.

Important links: Author Website

Wattpad

#trans #disabled #freelance writer #black writer #writer #writing #autistic writer #creative writing #polyamorous #polyamory #polyamorous writer #tumblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr #authorblr #indie author #author blog #wattpad #wattpad author

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slasherzslvt · 3 months

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Just realized my black ass didn't make a Black History Month post

Happy Black History Month to all my brothers and sisters!!!

We need to celebrate everyone in ourselves and the other black people around us

Let it be nothing but love, not just this month but every day

❤❤❤

#black tumblr #black creators #black authors #black women #black is beautiful #black qwoc #black men #black lgbt #black autistic #Black adhd #black is divine #YIPPEE BLACK PPL

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aroaessidhe · 2 years

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2022 reads // twitter thread

The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester

an autistic nonbinary teen moves to a new town with their dad after a traumatic experience for a fresh start

they find out their house is the site of the 30-year unsolved death of a teenager, & try to solve it with their new friends

YA contemporary/mystery with small supernatural elements

The MC is acespec & their dad is aroace!

#The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester #I enjoyed this very much! didn't know it was aspec lol #also very. either autistic characters need to stop being so relatable or‚‚‚‚‚lmao #aroaessidhe 2022 reads #ngl I assumed from the cover and introduction to their Black dad that Sam was not white‚ but I think they are. the author is anyway #oh this book is also heavy on the tumblr/pop culture references lol #which im generally ok with but there were a few that i was like. why. (spn. it was spn)#also saying the names of emojis out loud? is that a thing people do? it felt weird #asexual books

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nikoadari · 1 year

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A Squirrel and a Tree

She sat near motionless, staring at something outside her window. A squirrel in a tree, balanced on the end of a branch, nibbling on the last vestiges of nutrients the near bare limbs could provide. Eat, its little brain must be telling it. Eat everything before the winter chill comes and you must sleep.

It dropped one, two, too many scraps of maple helicopters to count to the leaf-carpeted floor, but her eyes didn’t follow their journey through the cold air, even as they spun in circles.

Her eyes stayed on the squirrel’s tiny round form. It was so…simple. So small. Its back and tail were gray, and its stomach was tan, and its nose twitched whenever it paused to sniff the dry air. It would die within five years, as these squirrels do, not even the blink of an eye for the world at large. By a predator or a car or old age, who knew? It would die eventually, with perhaps a few trees as its total contribution to the planet it lived on.

But it wasn’t dead yet. For now, it was alive. I knew she could barely distinguish the difference between these states in her head. All time seemed endless to her, at once never-ending and never existing at all. Whether it lived or died, whether she cried from joy or despair, it was all the same. And always happening all at once.

The squirrel’s fluffy tail flashed as it crawled to another branch, furred hands grasping and snatching and stuffing the tiny brown helicopters into its mouth. The maple tree held it, not trying, barely growing, losing more as the creature took from it. This tree had grown with her into a young adult. Born barely two years after her own birth, it now held more limbs than either of their years, as tall as any young maple tree could grow, straight and true into the pale blue sky. Its leaves, green, then red, then orange before they fell, were her seasonal clock standing just outside her bedroom window.

The squirrel was still there, chewing on the clock like it didn’t care for philosophies or analogies or whatever I thought or said. It didn’t care. It was a squirrel.

Her eyes closed. They must have become dry, or perhaps the sun had become too bright for her to continue staring. Whatever the reason, she closed her eyes and turned her head away from the window. What did she see, I thought, behind her closed eyes? Was she still looking at the squirrel, or the tree as it would be in less than a month; a frozen skeleton of its former self, covered in ice and snow?

Or was it something more innocuous? Her tea gone cold in her favorite mug, or words from her books describing creatures that existed only in novels and the imaginations of those who wrote them? She was thinking of something. Her thoughts never stopped, she’d told me once, never quieted enough to let her know blessed silence. Knowing her, I believed it. I wondered if she was thinking, then, about her and the squirrel together. Comparing them. She liked comparisons and contrasts. She used them all the time in her rare instances of speech.

If she was, I thought she would first compare complexities. She was a complex being, unlike the squirrel, in both body and mind. She was multifaceted and would live twenty times as long as it ever would. Her brain was larger, faster, and she held the burden of higher thought.

Yet she, too, felt the effects of the coming cold. She huddled inside and grew a little rounder each day, waiting for the chill of autumn to become the bitter sting of winter. She would exist in a cycle, and though she would influence it a great deal more than a squirrel could if she wanted to, she would still die someday in the world’s grip.

She continued to sit, and sit, and sit, eyes closed as she thought or dreamed or planned. She sighed. I raised my head a little, wondering if she would speak today. She clasped her hands together and opened her eyes. I expected her to say something, make something of her actions. But she didn’t. She simply stood and walked away, without even a glance towards the window.

I watched her leave the room before looking out to find the squirrel. It had already left, and the maple tree stood alone.

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motleyquixotes · 1 year

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Motley Quixotes #4: A Real Satanist, A Benevolent Haunting

https://tapas.io/series/Motley-Quixotes

#black and white #webcomic #christiancomic #slice of life comic #slice of life #autistic author #surreal #horror comic #dark comedy #dark humor #Christian character #christian oc #ink #tw violent death #tw death #tw implied antisemitism #black metal #motley quixotes

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legionfulminante · 2 years

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Remember when I said I was publishing a book? There’s also a special edition available for purchase! It comes with a few promotional goodies as well as a note from the author :) you can pick it up here

If you wanna support fiction by a queer black/Hispanic woman it is your time to shine, my friends! I hope you enjoy my tale of magical world revolt!

If you’re not interested, boosting is also very very appreciated ✨

#legionfulminante is weird #legionfulminante talks about Revolution #wow I haven’t used that tag in ages #booklr #bookblr #queer books #queer author #black authors #uhhh what else do i tag #I’m also autistic if that matters.

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theinkdrinkingfemme · 11 months

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Chapter 7

Her college soon came into view. The parking lot was packed to capacity, with various makes and sizes of cars clamouring for space between the faltering white lines. The college’s wooden sliding doors opened and Viola found herself in the hallway, its cracked grainy floors suddenly more appealing than the influx of people standing on it. The atmosphere was solemn, everyone silent and grim-faced, the occasional one fraught with worry. Faces fit for a funeral service. Probably in response to Lannie, although she wasn’t dead, though.

Yet.

Banishing the dark thought, she surveyed her environment. The swing doors to the auditorium were wide open, its insides containing multiple lecturers and unfamiliar students setting up bunting, fold chairs and other things, an air of disquiet in its wake. She recognized her head lecturer, with his rumpled jean jacket and drooping Nietzsche-like moustache.

Approaching the spacious, squeaky linoleum floor of the auditorium, she spotted the familiar head of blue-black hair, and skirted around the folded chairs towards him.

Colin straightened, blinking profusely at Viola. A greeting.

“I need to talk to you.” Viola glanced about her at the amount of people who were potentially listening.

“In a few minutes, sure.” He gestured to a stack of folding chairs still unfolded and tucked

neatly in the corner. “Still have to finish this off. That okay?”

She nodded in understanding, before swiftly backing out and sitting on the now-empty bench situated beside the doors. A display of the Erasmus+ places was suspended above the bench, protected with Plexiglas. On an average day, she would stare at the photos of smiling students and foreign places for ages, envisioning herself there, brave enough to have fun in majorly unfamiliar settings and new experiences.

“Said what happened to Harlan, huh?”

Viola looked to see Cora Verdon, an acquaintance slash occasional ally. Her red hair was significantly brighter than her naturally dark roots, and her spectacled face was staring intently at Viola.

“Yup.” Viola wasn’t interested in entertaining a conversation with her, her focus still on the Erasmus+ project.

“It does make sense though, having a little memorial for her..” Cora continued, brushing the coloured pixie cut from her face. “I mean, she was here in my class for a few. Then, nothing.”

Viola tore her eyes away and fixed them on Cora. Memorial? But most importantly…

“She used to be a student?” That would explain the vigil-like air to the auditorium. With Harlan being somewhat of an ex-student, the college would naturally feel obligated to have somewhat of a vigil for her. Or something.

“Yeah. You didn’t know?”

Viola shrugged, trying to keep her voice casual. “Never knew.” She really was a student?

Before she could process this information, Cora’s attention soon turned to a group of boys, who were casting furtive glances at the pair. “Hey, I gotta go. Talk soon?” Without waiting for a verbal response, she stalked off, Viola staring at her retreating figure.

Sitting on the bench, Viola felt like a ghost, invisible to staff and students alike who whizzed past, all preoccupied with their respective tasks and responsibilities. Her others lecturers nodded in greeting, but didn’t stop to exchange words.

Scrolling through her phone, she then saw the notification.

“Of course. When would you like to meet?”

Viola’s brain scrambled. It was at the back of her mind. Now here it was, demanding an answer. Her heart thundered in her ribcage. Venturing into new territory. Actually speaking to a reporter. How would she respond? Will she be taken seriously, or will she be laughed off as a wannabe detective? Belittled? She took a deep breath.

No time like the present, she supposed. She scheduled a time, typed it, and shut off her phone, her leg bouncing with new nerves.

It was about 15 minutes later when Colin walked out of the auditorium, his breathing slightly laboured. As soon as he saw Viola, staring into space, he slid into the empty space beside her. He hesitated, before putting an arm around her. Her brows were scrunched up, a sign of her thoroughly thinking.

“What are you thinking?,” he asked lowly, careful not to dislodge her flow of attention.

So she did. She told him all her thoughts: her lack of immense emotions, seeing the body. She’d even forgotten about seeing the dead body, with all of her focus being on Harlan, going to her house, her fear of being interviewed, her day being ruined, texting the reporter. When she’d finally finished, the word that came to mind to describe her current state of mind was ‘frazzled.’ The acts of slowing her suspended thoughts, translating them into tangible words, before conveying them to Colin seemed monumental.

“Did you mention the dead body to anyone?”

Viola shook her head no.

He paused for a moment, his arm squeezing Viola firmly as he thought.

“What do you need?”

Did I hear that right? “I don’t understand. Are you gonna help?”

“Don’t get it too twisted. See, I’m not going to stop you from pursuing it. I know that you’ll pursue it, even if I tell you otherwise. Just remember the potential consequences. I can help from the side-lines, but if push turns to shove, I know nothing about it.”

As much as it disappointed her that he wouldn’t actively be involved with something so important to her, Viola agreed. So she told him her next moves: going to the police and covertly asking for information, meeting with the reporter.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

He fingered her navy blue overcoat. “Olivia Pope today, yeah?”, he said, changing the subject to one familiar.

Viola nodded again. A coping strategy she had in navigating her surroundings was embodying a fictional character, copying everything from their mannerisms to their outfit. The sassy yet intelligent Olivia Pope was chosen today, the only difference being that Viola’s coily Afro hair was packed into an updo, affectionately nicknamed ‘the pineapple’ by Colin.

“Good choice.” His gaze bored into hers as he said it, a sign that he was being genuine and not sarcastic.

Colin looked at his watch. “Harlan’s vigil will start soon. Wanna come?”

She nodded, and let Colin place a firm hand on her and steer her towards the now darkened auditorium.

#crime writing #crime writer #author #writers on tumblr #thriller #adventure #female writers #crime blog #crime #autistic writer #autistic character #black authors #black female #black character #mystery #black female writers #psychological thriller #black female oc

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lartistrys · 29 days

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It’s Actually Our Duty

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