#also I’ve started actively seeking out fanfiction again

[kacievvbbbb]

Okay so I’ve spent the last couple days on Twitter (@kacievvbbbb if you wanna join me 👀) just fucking yapping about my new found obsession with the idea that Mihawk not only reads but is an active and well loved contributor to the pirate smut genre all across the blues. And I just needed to bring this to tumble to get more thoughts on it.

Here are mine;

- he obviously writes under a pseudonym would be funny if it was an anagram of like Worlds Strongest Swordsman or something.

- he writes essentially y/n fanfiction but he is always the reader.

- he is heavily perfectionist about his detailing of things like bodice ripping and that has lead to many a fun night for Shanks as he discreetly tries to rest just how exactly a bodice ripping would look and feel. Or if this sex position is even plausible.

-this one was a combined effort between @Dior and myself but he writes all the lovers as much more of an active participant in sex than the pillow princess himself actually is and this is because he thinks he is putting in exactly the same amount of work into sex as Shanks is which is laughable.

-Benn features heavily in alot of these RHP smut books. Benn

-He mostly writes RHP smut but he will branch out to other pirates like Crocodile maybe Doffy 👀. This gives Shanks heart palpitations when he finds out all this smut has been written by Mihawk.

- Mihawk almost kills both himself and Shanks by drowning the first time he finds out that Shanks knows about his little hobby.

- Shanks regularly requests they try something from the book and Mihawk has to stomp down the urge to throttle him. But again Mihawk’s reader is a much active participant in sex than he is and he is not a fan of all this work he has to put in even though he enjoys the results. Shanks is highly amused.

- Shanks for the first time in his life becaomes an avid reader with a habit and this confuses everyone that doesn’t know what he is reading and suffers Benn greatly who does.

- Shanks is lowkey very into the stories where the “reader” has sex with other men. He starts setting plans in motion.

- Mihawk also collects a lot of pirate smut a lot of it is about himself as well and this is his equivalent to jerking off. His next favorite people to read about are of course Shanks, Cricodile he is ashamed of just how much Doflamingo smut he owns. Lowkey maybe some King smut too.

- a contribution from someone on Twitter tha I live is that he also grades said smut about himslef and then sends the notes to the authors.

- he pseudonym is well known and well lived in the community.

-this is infact where more than half of his riches comes from.

- yes he also does read marine porn. He steers clear of anything that even remotely mentions garp tho. His favorite marine to red about is Sengoku I don’t fucking know 😭. I can just imagine him seating in warlord meetings shipping Sengoku with random fucking marines and pirates as he is trying to talk about very serious business

- he sure write the well known and well loved “the red haired emperor & me” series which is published in Morgan’s magazine or whatever and Shanks always seeks him out no matter where he is and fucks him good and hard everytime a new chapter goes out.

- he continues to do this while at Cross Guild Buggy and Crocodile are non the wiser. His crocodile descriptions start to get more detailed a clown pops up every now and again in his writing Shanks might be on the verge of a heart attack.

- shanks is a little too invested in the situation some (Benn) would say.

[thegaythespian]

every night I consider pulling an all nighter, already going to bed too late to not be tired in the morning

[enneamage]

I received this ask recently but I’ve opted to censor the name to avoid kicking up harassment. The information and trends in the ask are the part I’m going to focus on. I haven’t edited it anywhere else. (CW: Grooming)

I want to throw in my perspective as someone who was heavily involved in the SBI writing scene and fanfiction scene starting in 2020 and following through 2022, and had several large, well-known fics A lot of these big SBI writers ship them behind the scenes. I've personally known at least five different people who were secretly writing porn of them on alt accounts, or in secret discord servers. There's been a few I've known who went mask-off on their main accounts and started uploading there throughout 2022 as well. If they haven't stopped writing them in the "infamous touchy" way by now, there's a very good chance they are also writing them fucking, or at very least known 1-2 who do and don't care anyone here recognize the name [X]? very popular sbi writer, still writes them, and is involved with a lot of people who still write sbi and massive writers in the dsmp/mcyt sphere. they also have a good friend who writes a bunch of disturbing sbi porn, has it in their public bookmarks, and has written fic for this person as well. it's not like they're trying to hide it at all, and they still have a foothold in the fandom it's part of the reason I left the fandom, since I was a minor and these authors did not care how old you were. they have a very heavy fixation on tommy being young, pilant and vulnerable - it's a fetish to a lot of them. i wouldn't be shocked if other kids I knew in these circles were being groomed through this content. I knew a few who were, but I couldn't do anything about it this is a very heavy ask to be sending, but I think it's important to be upfront about. Predatory adults like to "hide" fetish content so they can lure and trick kids into thinking grooming is normal, or "cute," or "familial." They especially like to trick kids who are upfront about having a bad family or no support system, who seek out this content since they are in love with the idea of having a close, interpersonal bond with someone of that capacity (being someone's #1 - This is how you can pinpoint the ones who will develop BPD!) adults do not have to be outwardly sexual to have nefarious intents. Be careful of any adult who tries to hard to push a possessive, "familial" dynamic onto you. Be wary of the people you interact with in fandom! not everyone has good intentions

This is somewhere between what I expected and what I was afraid of, thank you for sending this in.

I was/am still willing to give people the benefit of the doubt when it comes to 'platonic' fic depending on the person, but it makes a lot of sense that some people had that duality to them. I had heard that things had been passed around in secret but more in the context of things like schlattbur—this adds another level to it, but still tracks.  

The worst case scenario for pushing the family dynamic as perfectly normal has always been making vulnerable people fall into vulnerable situations, and it sounds like that’s happened. The forced innocence of the space has always been a bit uncanny, and I was afraid of what it would cause people to overlook or even romanticise because that headspace is so delicate and easy to take advantage of. Even now I think I’m seeing snips of people being egged on (even guilted) to participate in ‘family dynamic’ content that they don’t fully understand the implications of, or are either motivated or trained to be in active denial about.

Again, thank you for writing in because it sounds like a lot has happened that would be easy to miss if the situation was taken at face value.

[duckprintspress]

How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

[co-reborn]

2 Year Anniversary

2 years ago, while waiting for an activity to begin at around this hour, I opened up Apple Notes and begin writing fanfiction and smut for the first time.

I first started posting on Wattpad before moving my primary posting place to Tumblr in June 2021, having gained a bit more confidence. But it was still obvious that I have much more to learn.

I kept working on myself, trying to learn a bit from several authors and seeking help from them. I’ve improved significantly from when I’ve first started (the bar was just too low anyways) but I do know I need to work on myself more.

In total, I have posted 58 fics although 23 was written when inexperienced and left to rot on Wattpad lol

I’ve also hit 2.5k followers 10 days ago no one understood my weird ass message on discord lol

Thank you for following me, whether it was for all 2 years or just minutes ago. I’ll keep working hard to provide more content that you’ll enjoy 😁

So with all those words aside, here are some key points of these past two years:

feel free to skip these

June 2020: Bored c.o began writing, churning <1k words chapters almost daily on Wattpad.

December 2020: My book on Wattpad hit 25k views, somewhat the first milestone I was excited about

May 2021: I began to post my works on Tumblr under co-writes

June 2021: I began to interact with other members of the community… wait no. I only interacted with @sinswithpleasure in DMs lol. He gave me the whole idea for Bucket List even before part 2 came out and I have became BL’s biggest fan and expert. I also began my Community Idea project which had some semblance of success (to the extent that Ddeun unfollowed me cos I was spamming the feed with asks lol)

July 2021: I began interacting with other members of the community by joining ELP’s discord server and it pretty much changed my life. I talk to these people almost everyday now and my writing life would be much more stale without them. Thank you guys.

October 2021: I posted Conquer, thinking it was going to be a oneshot. But @worldsover loved it so much that it’s now a collaboration (my first! and only) and what seems to be my most successful series rip my other dead ones lol

November 2021: I was unhappy with my seemingly slow growth on co-writes and it was pointed out that it being a secondary blog on the account might have caused the problem. Hence, I locked the account up and moved over to this very blog, resetting all my followers and notes progress.

January 2022: Before irl shit came into my life, I wrote what is my most successful fic ever: Bust or Bust. I have no idea why it’s so well received but I’ll take it. Also, it marked my first fic featuring an idol outside of Twice (Fun fact: the first non-twice idol appearing on my blog was supposed to be Jiheon in Conquered Odds but the power of the horni)

~~~~~~

Well, those are the key points of my writing career that I can remember/find. Once again, thank you for sticking by my blog and reading my fics. It really makes my day whenever I see people enjoying what I put out.

[tobi-smp]

I’ve been avoiding addressing this for some time now because I knew if I ever did it would be a deeply emotionally taxing conversation. however I’ve continued to receive increasingly angry anons about it despite never speaking on it, so if it’s going to find me anyways I may as well address it in full on my own terms.

I’m putting this under a cut because it’s going to be discussing intense subject matter, both real and fictional, specifically in addressing the role dark fiction can have in someone’s life and why someone might be drawn to it (someone else might call it a conversation on the “anti” and “anti-anti/proship” argument, though I don’t enjoy using those terms personally). so don’t feel pressured to read or engage with this post going forward.

that said, I encourage looking through this whole thing (assuming you can stomach it) if you’ve ever messaged me about metaru before.

this will not be short, but I ask that anyone who chooses to engage with this after this point read the entire thing. I don’t want to be misunderstood and I’m not looking for any arguments in the first place. this is not me opening myself up to debate. Tw for discussions on csa, abuse, harassment, and of course dark fiction in general.

my first Real interactions with the internet was with naruto forums dot com. up until that point a computer was just the box that I used to play the “my gym partner’s a monkey” flash game in the living room, but I’d learned about forums in school and it was the literal first thing that came up when I’d decided to look up something familiar out of curiosity.

this was formative for me because this was the first time that I learned that you could find pictures of boys kissing online, and naturally I was hooked.

even better, it wasn’t long before I’d realized that all of this fanart was coming from somewhere. which brought me to deviantart and eventually led me to finding fanfiction (whole Stories where boys fell in love with each other, can you even imagine).

I was drawn to a subculture of the fandom that, in hindsight, was kind of silly. it was early enough in akatsuki’s introduction to the story that people treated them not unlike the “avengers all live in the same tower and hang out with each other” trend of the early 2010s. tobi was just tobi, it was simpler times.

I read fanfic of them all being friends, of them forming families, of them living their day to day together, the less grounded in canon the better.

one day I found one au fic in particular. they were all kids who were living together under one roof. foster children trapped in an abusive household that escaped together and had to learn how to grow and move on while staying a family. several of the kids had been sexually abused by their adoptive father, leading to them finally leaving in the first place. this fact wasn’t explicit but it was one of the first times I’d seen something like this in media and Understood what was happening. this was also a formative experience for me.

deviantart and forums and even fanfic dot net to an extent didn’t have the sorting and tagging systems that ao3 does now, you never really knew what you were going to find when you clicked on something. it was by pure chance that I found that fic just like it was pure chance that I’d find anything. I read it and I read it again, but it would be a while before I’d actively seek out content like that.

now why would I do that? what was I so drawn to about this story?

when I was a child I was diagnosed with ptsd, though it’d be later in life when I’d realize that c-ptsd was more accurate. obviously there was no way for me to process this, I wasn’t old enough for the birds and the bees talk (I was barely old enough to understand that I was a little person at all). and my brain agreed with me on that one, to this day my long term memory is fucked (and my rote memorization in general for that matter). I don’t remember kindergarten, I have a few scant flashes from elementary, I start getting more of a grasp of who I was as a person in middle school albeit with practically none of the details for what day to day life was like, and I have a bit of a firmer grasp on high school but no real concept of When specific things happened to me or where. and that’s followed me now into my adult life.

so what you’re left with is a situation where a child grows up with the Marks of something horrific that happened to them, the c-ptsd and the depression and the anxiety, but no real way to understand it at a point where it wouldn’t particularly be an appropriate conversation to have with them.

I was vaguely aware that it was a thing that had happened to me in the way that kids are aware that the economy is a thing that adults care an awful lot about. how do you empathize with yourself when you don’t have any of the details? when you can’t picture what it’d be like to experience these things and the effect it has on a person? when you can’t understand Why you feel the way that you do or even What it is you feel?

what’s more, what do you do when you can’t mourn for yourself? when you can’t be angry at a person that doesn’t have a name or a face? how do you reconcile a loss that isn’t yours but that has a deep impact on you anyways? it was like I was stepping into a life that wasn’t mine but still had to live with the consequences of it.

for a good while there I fully refused to believe that I could have anxiety and depression, which is silly to me now but was a fairly common reaction for children that grow up with trauma and mental illness. it wouldn’t be until high school that I’d start getting a real grasp on mental health and start making strides to understand it. but I still existed in the meantime.

I was drawn to dark fiction for the catharsis. for having the ability to feel the horror and the fear and the anger in a tangible way that was still Safe. and what I treasured the most was recovery fics, stories where the characters got to be okay in the end. I couldn’t remember what I’d felt, what I’d experienced, but this was a full narrative exploring what it was like to experience these things in depth, and for the first time I started to understand. I could empathize with them when I couldn’t empathize with myself, and that meant everything at the time.

I won’t pretend that this fixed my mental health, it didn’t. but this was a foundation to a relatively healthy outlet for difficult emotions that I could not have dealt with on my own. it was also the tentative start to what’d eventually Become my journey with tackling my mental health in a truly substantial way.

this is something that people are usually Vaguely aware of, even in spaces where dark fiction is a zero tolerance policy. what this will often translate to is an asterisk where people are allowed to engage with the Bad Thing if they have a permit to get away with it. but this isn’t viable for a couple reasons.

firstly, and most obviously, that requires people to out themselves about extremely personal and painful experiences, sometimes when they aren’t ready to talk about it at all let alone on a public platform. and if the person asking for proof wants to they can simply choose to ignore or not believe them, which can be a horribly upsetting and even traumatizing experience for someone all on its own. putting already vulnerable people into an even more vulnerable position at the threat of punishment is not, in my opinion, good activism.

and second being that that’s just not how catharsis works.

catharsis isn’t just seeing your own experiences shown back to you, though that can certainly provide some absolutely moving relationships with a work of fiction when it does work out that way. catharsis is experiencing extreme emotions in a controlled and safe environment. when you listen to sad music when you’re upset until you can have a good cry that’s catharsis. when you watch a horror movie to feel the shock and fear, your pulse racing, that’s catharsis. when the greeks first watched oedipus gouge his eyes out with pins upon learning that he’d unknowningly wed and had children with his own mother that was the Invention of the modern definition of catharsis.

people consume dark fiction to experience dark emotions in a relatively low stakes environment. to ask that people prove that they’re Allowed to view one negative experience by proving that they have a direct connection to the experiences being shown is to misunderstand Why people feel the way that they do when they interact with dark fiction.

and moreover, reading about and feeling compassion for experiences that you don’t have can help you understand the people who have experienced those things.

c!tommy and dream’s story is an Incredible work of dark fiction that covers themes of abuse, mental illness, ptsd, and more. and while I feel catharsis from that story because of my own experiences with mental health, my life doesn’t exactly mirror c!tommy’s. nor would I get upset with someone for seeing themselves in c!tommy because of their depression rather than ptsd.

okay, does this mean that I’m an anti-anti or a proshipper or think all dark fiction should be allowed everywhere all the time? no, not really.

firstly, in my opinion those terms are essentially useless on the large scale. shorthand like that is useful in small tight-knit communities where everyone knows exactly what everyone else means when they use that shorthand, but that becomes impossible once it spreads to a certain point. 

there are people who don’t know that “anti” is used in fandom spaces to describe someone who unnecessarily bashes something (a person, ship, character, show, etc), and there are people who don’t know that some people’s only experiences with those labels are people who stand against actual pedophiles and groomers. these two people using the same term without elaborating can (and in my experience Will) have the most draining and unproductive argument known to man.

there are perfectly normal people who exist under both labels, who even believe the same things for the same reasons, who’ve been lead to hate each other because they chose the “wrong” labels just because of the communities they happened to grow up in. moreover, the bad actors in those communities are incentivized to encourage this black and white us vs them mentality. both so they can encourage harassment for the sake of it and so they can use the other group as a scapegoat to mask their own behavior.

I understand why people are drawn to one label vs the other based on their own lived experiences. but the healthier relationship with it, I think, is to ditch the terminology altogether and simply call out the behavior that you find harmful in full. when talking about subject matter like this you Need nuance, you Need specifics, you Need a healthy middle ground along with an awareness of the extremes. otherwise it only serves as a tool for confusion and harassment.

secondly: dark fiction, like most things, is not black and white. not all relationships to dark fiction is healthy, not all dark fiction should be platformed, communities for dark fiction can be invaded and co-opted by bad people, and the availability of dark fiction in certain spaces can be a real problem.

like I said, I first stumbled into dark fiction back during the wild west. when warnings weren’t common or comprehensive and sorting was pitiful if it existed at all. I had access to content that I really shouldn’t have at my age.

I was lucky that I mostly kept to myself online until high school and I was lucky that I never really had any major adverse experiences with fiction when I was a kid, but that’s not the experience that everyone has.

ao3 is generally much better in this regard, with its heavy emphasis on tags, trigger warnings, and proper sorting. but even then there are things that show up where it shouldn’t through user error, and I’m not sure how well I would’ve intuited these things as a kid. 

even as an adult who has a good grasp on my own boundaries and healthy understanding of my relationship with fiction and its utility as a coping mechanism, I can’t always know what I’m getting into until I’m already there. I don’t get triggered very often but when I do it’s not a very good scene. and when you Aren’t in a good place, when you Don’t have as strong of a grasp on what you’re doing or why, it can very quickly turn into a tool for self harm by repeatedly seeking out content that steps over your own boundaries because it makes you feel something.

I can’t say that I have the answer to these things, or rather I’d say that there are a couple of things that we as individuals can do to try to make the specific spaces that we inhabit safer (tagging things appropriately, doing what we can to make sure nsfw content has to be Sought Out rather than stumbled upon, etc), but largely there is no one good answer for how to make sure that nobody ever gets hurt. these situations are extremely specific, personalized, and often contradictory and at the end of the day there’s no choice we can make that will erase people with bad intentions. it’s not a black and white issue and it’s not one with an easy answer.

and I do want to say that the gut reaction is typically that something that makes you uncomfortable has gone too far and doesn’t deserve to exist. and like, that’s a very human reaction especially if something has deeply upset you through your exposure to it, but it’s still a feeling that should be examined. we all have different boundaries and we all have our own threshold for catharsis. what’s cathartic to me could be triggering to someone else, and what isn’t outright triggering to me could still not be cathartic. to that same end, it’s Okay to not like dark fiction, just like it’s Okay to not like roller coasters. but just because You don’t have a certain relationship with a work doesn’t mean that the creator doesn’t or that other people consuming it don’t or can’t. that doesn’t mean that these things can’t be criticized, Especially published media with actual studios behind it, but it should be criticized for How it handles its darker elements not the fact that it has them.

none of this, of course, is touching on actual csa or the depictions of real people. this fandom in particular is plenty familiar with the problem of people overtly breaking cc’s boundaries either with the depictions of nsfw or shipping with their characters when that isn’t appropriate (when it’s against stated boundaries or when the characters are minors), or by explicitly depicting the cc’s themselves. this is made especially unfortunate by how often these things will show up in tags not intended for them. this content should not exist, it should not be distributed, and it should not be hosted. obviously.

now, why have I had this conversation about my relationship with dark fiction, laying out a nuanced relationship with the concept and with the anti/pro-ship/anti-anti discussion?

over the past couple of months I’ve seen a couple of accusations about proudfreakmetarusonniku being a proshipper, warning people that they need to be excommunicated from the fandom. asking why they’ve been “allowed” to have a space in this fandom At All when they’re Obviously a degenerate and need to be deplatformed.

this confused me, because in the months that I’ve followed them I’ve watched them Directly call out pedophilia, boundary breaking, and Rape within fan content in this fandom when no one else has been starting that conversation. (people writing nsfw for characters when they shouldn’t, for people who’ve explicitly stated they don’t want that and for the Minors. even worse being the same thing but with genuine rpf, writing out explicit pedophilia about Actual People.) I’ve watched them describe how running into that content on ao3 (something that I’ve experienced as well, because of a Persistent Issue of people misusing or not understanding tags) made them feel Physically Ill, how that content shouldn’t exist on the platform at all but that it Definitely Should Not Be Publicly Available to anyone just trying to find dsmp content.

I saw them directly calling out people who broke boundaries when that could’ve easily painted a target on their back. I saw them calling out poppytwt, but also showing compassion and Concern for the minors being groomed in those spaces.

on the surface level what I could see was that this was an 18 year old who Actively took a stance against boundary breaking and pedophilia, putting themselves in the hot seat when they didn’t have to, who just happened to use the “Wrong Label” for some people and got targeted as being a creep for it. as a csa survivor their stance on actual child porn and pedophilia mattered to me much more than whether they read dark fiction or not, so I left it alone.

or I Tried to leave it alone.

since then I’ve been sent anons repeatedly trying to “warn” me about following and interacting with them that have grown increasingly hostile and accusatory. I’ve also noticed several mutuals between us who’ve made their own statements about how they don’t mind dark fiction or proshipping, and while I haven’t asked I have to assume that I’m not the only one being sent anons.

the issue has Evolved into anyone (or perhaps anyone Prominent but it’s hard to know with anons) who happens to interact with them being spammed to Stop. and while there hasn’t been the Overt threat of that same harassment being turned towards me for not complying in my inbox yet, I can’t be alone in thinking that that threat is obviously there.

so I did more research.

what I found was a story not dissimilar to my own.

I followed those same posts calling them out to the content I was being warned of, and what I found was a Minor speaking on how they used dark fiction to cope with their trauma. I saw a history of a Minor facing harassment for finding comfort in that fiction, deciding to use the Oh So Horrible label that was being stapled onto them with Pride because it didn’t actually matter what they did. they were going to have that label and more forced onto them anyways. I saw that minor grow into someone whose now only Barely an adult, facing a harassment campaign despite Openly standing against pedophilia and boundary breaking and having openly stated that their relationship with dark fiction stems from trauma.

and I have to ask, am I supposed to feel comforted by this? as a csa survivor, is this supposed to make me feel safe? because it doesn’t.

what’s the difference between me and them? that I was quiet about it? I just happened to grow up in a slightly different era, before people were encouraged to wear everything about them on their sleeve. I often wonder what I’d be like if I’d grown up on tumblr instead of forums and deviantart. I wonder what I would’ve experienced if I had people watching over my shoulder to decide if I’m consuming the good pure content in the good pure way or not. I wonder what would’ve happened to me if I’d been confronted about these things before I was ready to talk about my trauma. before I was Able to stand up for myself.

and I have to ask again, am I supposed to feel comforted by this?

am I supposed to be Comforted by the fact that people are targeting survivors for harassment and ostracization? people who were minors just months ago? am I supposed to be Comforted by this growing trend of using accusations of immorality to target people who haven’t done anything Wrong because once you can prove that your victim Deserves It people stop seeing them as victims? am I supposed to be Comforted by the fact that I could be next for what I’ve shared in this post?

I’ve seen this song and dance play out a million times over, and I’m not playing along. I’m not going to listen to an anonymous person waltzing up into my inbox and telling me that they saw goody proctor at the devil’s sacrament, and I’m certainly not going to fold when those anons get angry at being ignored.

so no, I’m not going to answer your ask, I’m not going to ostracize someone who hasn’t done anything wrong, I’m not going to participate in a harassment campaign, and I’m not going to be used as a tool to blindly spread accusations of immorality at the barest indication from a stranger in the first place.

and to be clear about something here: I have not asked metaru about their trauma, and no one else is allowed to. they didn’t have to share as much as they already have in the first place and no one is Owed the detail that I’ve just given. I’ve shared what I have because this is something that I’ve felt strongly about for a while now. because this is something that has weighed on me that I’ve never had the time or the place or the motivation to share. because I know that there are people in my position or metaru’s position that will never get to stand up for themselves. but not one god damn person is Owed information about anyone’s trauma. do not ask them.

I don’t know if I ever intend to address this again, addressing this as much as I have already has been emotionally taxing enough as is. but I’m not going to engage with the people directly responsible, nor am I interested in “calling them out.” I’m making my stance on the situation clear and I want other people to understand why I feel this way.

[backtothestart02]

Just Best Friends - 9/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: “It’s been 84 years...” lolz. I hope you enjoy this! I don’t know when the next chap will come, but as soon as I can write it, I will!

...

Chapter 9 -

A week passed. During that week, Iris made herself completely unreachable – not just to Barry but to Eddie as well. She worked through lunch, so Barry couldn’t take her out, and she worked late hours, so that by the time she returned to hers and Eddie’s apartment, she was so exhausted, she could only heat up some leftovers and collapse onto their bed when she was finished with them.

That also meant no sex, no cuddling, and hardly any talking that wasn’t an incredibly brief apology before passing out or running out the door. And for Barry, it was just one excuse after another, though they always sounded very similar.

Sorry, I have so much work to do. Or… Maybe another time? I just got a new story, and I have a hot lead on it.

He always understood in words, but she could see the disappointment on his face every time. As well as her failure to respond to the fresh bouquet of flowers he set on her desk daily.

They weren’t just excuses though. They were legitimate…most of the time. Were they unnecessary? Probably. She didn’t have to go out of her way to beg her boss for more stories, or to work so far ahead of schedule that she felt she was on the verge of a burn out or collapse.

But she didn’t know how to act now that Eddie was back. She knew she needed to break up with him. She knew that. But she didn’t want to break his heart, and she wasn’t 100% sure Barry would just agree to date her after the hell she’d put him through emotionally. So avoiding both of them seemed to be the only way out.

She’d also come to the conclusion that while irritating, her dad going out of his way to forbid Barry to tell her he was the Flash had come from a place of love, and that she couldn’t stay mad at him any more than she could with Barry. The only problem was she found having that conversation with him was almost impossible because either Eddie or Barry or both seemed to be in his vicinity at all times.

Little did she know though that there was one other person who was taking a keen interest in the situation developing over the past week, and it was the one person she’d been paranoid about for a while before Eddie came back, and who she’d entirely forgotten about as the weight of the three men in her life came barreling down on her.

And that person had apparently had enough of what she was doing and had decided to seek her out for a confrontation of sorts shortly after Barry left during his lunch break for the fifth time that week.

With a slow yet determined saunter, Linda approached Iris’ desk just as soon as Mason disappeared for his daily lunch walk.

“Iris.”

The familiar voice made her freeze. She recovered quickly, but she had a feeling Linda had caught her red-handed and completely unprepared for where this particular conversation would lead. After all, the last time they’d “talked”, Linda had completely brushed her off, and the time before that Linda had told her to her face that she knew Iris had feelings for Barry, even when she’d still been in denial of that fact herself.

“Linda.” She shuffled her papers around on her desk to somehow fill the awkwardness of the moment. “What, uh…what can I do for you?”

Linda folded her arms and sat on the corner of Iris’ desk.

“Was that Barry that just left?”

“Hmm?” She decided to play dumb. “Oh, yeah, it was. He uh, wanted to go to lunch. I told him I had work to do, which I did – do. So, if you don’t mind?”

Linda’s jaw actually dropped.

“Dismissing me so quickly? If I recall correctly, the last time we talked, you were only too eager to get my attention.”

Iris bit her tongue to keep from responding with something she’d regret.

“Let me guess. You’re giving me a taste of my own medicine?” Linda raised her eyebrows.

Iris cleared her throat.

“Not at all. I just…I have work to do. A lot of it.”

“You’ve had a lot of work to do for the past five days, haven’t you?”

Iris’ eyes squinted.

“Have you been…spying on me?”

“Please.” Iris waited. “I’ve been talking to Barry. He’s needed someone to vent to, you know, since before Eddie came back you were practically climbing on top of him every day at lunch and after work and sometimes before work, according to him.”

“That’s not how it was,” Iris said under her breath.

“No? You better clear that up with your supposed best friend then, because that’s how he saw it. He’s crushed that you’re avoiding him again.” She leaned forward. “Which you are doing, right? Neither of us is buying that you suddenly have so much work to do.”

��I do!” Iris snapped. “I…I asked for it.”

Linda’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an ‘o’.

“And why would you do that?”

She started shuffling her papers again.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you made out with my boyfriend after sticking your finger in his mouth and sitting on his lap on our date.”

Iris sighed testily.

“I thought you two broke up.”

“We did.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t? I know it wasn’t your idea.”

“I’m not stupid, Iris. I’m not going to blindly fight for a relationship with someone who clearly wants to be with someone else.”

Iris bit her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“He does?” she asked quietly.

“He’s in love with you!” She lowered her voice when she got a few looks. “He’d take you in a heartbeat,” she paused. “If that’s what you want.”

Iris swallowed.

“But you don’t know what you want, do you?”

“Yes, I…I do.”

“Then what do you want? Please, tell me at least.”

“Why?” She met her eyes again and glared. “So you can run off and tell Barry? Or Eddie?”

Linda rolled her eyes.

“I have no reason to tell your boyfriend anything. Barry, however, I do still care about. And we’re friends now. He deserves to know the truth, even if it isn’t from you. He’s going crazy with all your…mixed signals.”

Iris nibbled on her lip again, guilt weighing her down.

“Iris, hey, there’s something I wanted to…” Mason approached, then came to an abrupt halt, sensing the tension between the two women immediately. “Am I interrupting something?” He looked between the two.

“Not at all.” Linda smiled serenely before looking down at Iris one last time. “You know where to find me, Iris.”

Iris gulped, not looking at her but nodded just before Linda retreated – finally – to her desk across the room.

“What was that about?”

Iris closed her eyes and shook her head before swiveling in her chair toward him.

“Nothing. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

His eyes were full of suspicion, but it was clear his need to discuss something with her was greater.

“I want to show you something.” He took the seat Linda had vacated, then pulled out a folder, revealing to her a familiar face she’d nearly forgotten. “Simon Stagg. Remember him?”

…

Well, there was no longer any way of avoiding it. She had to seek out Barry. Mason’s suspicions about Harrison Wells stirred her insides too deeply, and honestly, made her worried about her best friend, since she knew how much he adored who had become to be his mentor. There was Caitlin and Cisco to consider too, who had known Dr. Wells even longer, but right now all she cared about was Barry.

So, she marched over to CCPD shortly after her conversation with Mason, using the excuse of pursuing a story – which, more or less, she was – to explain her absence at her work site and sought out Barry as soon as she stepped out of the elevator.

Unfortunately, her dad’s eyes locked with hers first. She swallowed, remembering how things were between them. She considered then abandoning a much-needed talk with Barry to finally hash things out with her dad. That course of action was dashed however, when within seconds he had looked away from her and gestured instead in her direction to whoever was standing across from him.

She should’ve known then who it would be, but it didn’t occur to her until he was walking toward her, a grin on his face, no doubt thinking she was there to see him.

“Iris, hey.” He kissed her before she could even think to turn her cheek to him. “Did you have a late lunch today? I have some time now. We cou-”

“Oh, actually, I’m here to see, Barry. Is he upstairs?”

“Huh?”

“In his lab?”

Eddie blinked.

“Um, yeah, as far as I know. There are no active crime scenes where he’d be at otherwise.”

“Great. Thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and headed towards the staircase before he could so much as pull her in for an explanation or something more.

Feeling confused and honestly a little hurt, Eddie returned to his desk, Joe sitting now at his, ignoring Eddie’s state as best as he could.

“Should I be worried?” he finally asked.

Joe pretended not to have heard him.

“Joe.”

“Hmm?” he asked, not looking up from the files he was pretending to look over in front of him.

“Should I be worried?”

“About what?”

“About Iris,” he said, as if it should be obvious.

Despite how he felt about the man dating his daughter, Joe looked up to address him. He was also his partner, after all.

“Why are you worried about her?”

Eddie let out a cough of relief, eager to unload his troubles onto somebody – anybody – who would listen.

“She’s made herself busy ever since I got back.”

“She has a job. So do you.”

“More so than usual though,” he pushed on. “She leaves earlier than she used to, and she comes home really late. When she does, she eats some leftovers and crawls into bed without so much as a ‘hey, how was your day’ or ‘I love you, too, Eddie’.” He frowned. “It worries me.”

Now Joe frowned.

“She’s been avoiding Barry too.”

Eddie’s frown deepened.

“When had Barry been trying to meet up with her?”

“On her lunch breaks,” he blurted without thinking, then met his eyes, trying to play it off. “She always says she’s too busy working on a story.”

Eddie leaned back in his seat.

“I haven’t tried to meet up with her for lunch at all this week. I guess I’m so used to her coming here, and if she didn’t, that she had a good reason. I guess she did.”

“Well, there you go.”

Joe started to stand, eager to escape the awkwardness of the conversation.

“But I mean, we haven’t had sex all week.”

Joe finished straightening, then shot him a glare. Eddie’s face fell.

“You didn’t want to hear that.”

“Not particularly, no,” Joe said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He turned and headed for the bathroom. Any place was better than this.

…

About a step and a half before the entryway to Barry’s lap, Iris stalled, nibbling on her bottom lip. Barry had been as pleasant during her intended lunch break as he’d been all week, but she still wondered how accepting he’d be of her, especially when he found out this was a working meeting. She definitely needed to apologize first. How and when was the question, though. It was still beyond her how he hadn’t lashed out at her yet. She’d been treating him so unfairly, and yet time and time again, he kept crawling back to her, as if he was a glutton for punishment.

Well, no more of that. She couldn’t guarantee when she would break up with Eddie, but maybe Linda was right and she could at least explain her behavior this week and tell him she planned to break up with Eddie. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe…eventually.

“Is someone there?” Barry called out, and Iris realized she’d started tapping her shoe against the floor in time with the rapid rhythm of her mind.

She stopped abruptly, then cleared her throat and peeked her head into the doorway.

“Hey.”

She gave an awkward hand wave.

“Iris?”

His brows furrowed, but he started to smile. Lord, help her, it made her heart do a flip.

“What are you doing out there?” He got up out of his seat and headed towards her. “And why didn’t you just come in?”

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, shocked by it as much as he was, then forced herself to walk through the door.

He came to a stop as soon as she was inside and waited for her explanation.

“I guess I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”

He gawked.

“Iris, I’ve been trying to see you all week.”

“No, I know. Of course. Right. But uh…I thought my rejecting you today might’ve been your breaking point, and that you wouldn’t want to see me now. Without an apology. Which I am totally willing to make, by the way.” Her chuckle was strained, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“What’s there to apologize for?” he asked. “You had work to do. That isn’t your fault. I’m sure you’ve been working hard to catch up.”

“Actually…” She took another step toward him. “I haven’t.”

His brows furrowed, and he sat back down.

“I don’t follow.”

She sighed and sat on the corner of his desk, the only spot where there wasn’t files or a conglomeration of office supplies.

“I asked for extra work.” She swallowed. “On Monday.”

He tilted his head, confused.

“I was trying to be busy. On purpose.” She licked her lips. “So I’d be too busy if you came to see me.”

He froze, his heart thudding away inside his chest. He didn’t know how to take that bit of information, and honestly, he was crushed.

“I don’t understand…you didn’t want to see me?”

The hurt in his voice was palpable. Iris hated that she was doing this to him again. He shouldn’t even want to be her friend after this, no matter how apologetic she was.

“Not just you,” she said, hoping that would soften the blow. “Eddie too. And my dad.”

He was mystified by that. He understood Joe, what with the Flash business and all that, but Eddie?

“What have you got against Eddie?”

“Nothing!” she burst, then got up and started to pace. “I just…” She licked her lips, unable to stop walking and unable to form words either, it seemed. She couldn’t stop though. Not to leave, not to make eye contact. Her hard was pounding, and her breath was coming in short bursts. She felt everything closing in around her and wondered if she was having a panic attack.

Suddenly, she stopped and forced herself to look at him.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said instantly, standing too. “I want an explanation.”

She swallowed.

“I thought you and I were good last week.”

“We were,” she said. “We are.”

“Yet you purposely didn’t want me near you this week?”

Her knees locked, and she tensed up.

“And Eddie…what in the world did he do except home to you? I would’ve thought you’d be happy about that.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Her fingers were sweaty and tingled. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

“Iris.”

Answer.

“I don’t love him anymore!”

She covered her mouth at the same moment his eyes bulged, and he nearly stumbled backward.

“What?” he finally managed.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she started to pace again.

“I realized it last week. Or rather, I’ve been slowly realizing it for the past several weeks. I’ve just been…in denial.”

Barry’s pulse started racing. He approached her moving form with one determined step after another.

“What have you been in denial about, Iris?”

She stopped.

“What I just said!” She licked her lips again. “I don’t love him. I’m not in love with him anymore. But I don’t…I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t want to break his heart. Especially after I went out of my way to make him feel bad about thinking there was anything between us, when really-”

“Wait, wait, wait, us? As in, you and I, us?”

She looked up at him reluctantly and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t know I told you how I felt, does he? At Christmas?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t tell him that. He’d probably have punched you by now if I had.”

Barry paled, then squeaked, “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed.

“W-Why?” He wrapped his arm around the back of his head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gave her a blank look. “You were trying to get his girlfriend to break up with him. To be with you.”

Barry thought about it for a few seconds, then realized that yeah, he kind of had been. He shook his head after he got past that thought.

“I still don’t understand though. If you didn’t tell him about that…” He locked eyes with her. “Did you tell him you…find me attractive?”

“Oh, God, no.” She pressed her face into her hands. “That would’ve been even worse.”

“Worse than a love confession? How?”

“Because it’s coming from me! And I…”

“What?”

She power-walked to right in front of him and prepared herself for the blow of all blows.

“I don’t just find you attractive, Barry. I have…I have feelings for you.”

I’m in love with you – But she couldn’t admit to that yet. Not while she was still dating Eddie.

He swallowed, fighting with the smile that wanted to take over his face.

“What kind of feelings?”

“Barry.” Her voice softened. “You know what kind.”

“Tell me,” he said. “Just so I know for sure.”

He was holding his breath, and she couldn’t blame him. Honestly, she was on the brink of holding hers too.

“You make my heart race, Barry.”

“Iris.”

He started to lean in, and it took all of her willpower to step back out of reach.

“No, we can’t. I can’t. It’s bad enough I cheated once. This can’t go any farther until it’s over.” She met his eyes. “Until Eddie and I are over.”

Barry swallowed.

“And when will that be?”

Her shoulders slumped, and her bottom lip quivered.

“I don’t know.”

His shoulders caved in as well. He forced himself not to get mad, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. So, the love of his life finally felt the same way, but she wouldn’t let herself act on it? And she wouldn’t do the one thing that would allow them to be together.

“Is that the only thing you came to tell me?” he asked, unable to keep some chill out of his words.

Iris supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“No…” she admitted, deciding not to mention how she hadn’t meant to tell him as much as she had.

“What else?”

She pursed her lips, hating that she had to turn this conversation into a business one before she could give him the answer that he wanted.

“What else, Iris?” he asked, sounding exhausted when she didn’t answer for too long.

“It’s about, Dr. Wells,” she finally said.

That caught him off guard.

“Dr. Wells? What does he have to do with anything?”

“I hope nothing, but just in case…can we go somewhere else? To talk?”

He wanted to ask her what was wrong with his lab, but he supposed the fresh air would do them both good. Give them a clear head and put everything she’d already said to rest for the time being. After all, she sounded awfully serious about whatever else she wanted to talk about.

“Sure,” he said. “Just let me grab my jacket.”

“Barry,” she called after him as he walked by her.

He stopped when he reached his garment.

“I’m sorry about…everything.”

“Don’t worry about it, Iris,” he said, as he slid his arms through the sleeves. “It’s fine.”

…

Hours later, and on a whim, Eddie found himself at a jewelry store – diamonds, to be more specific. In the back of his mind, he knew his intentions probably weren’t smart. Especially not right now, not with the way things were between him and Iris, especially this week. But there was another part of him that thought this might be just the thing to jolt their relationship back into what it had once been and the potential of what it could be, the future he’d seen from almost the minute he started dating her.

He pointed out a ring nestled in velvet that caught his eye in the display case below him. An employee walked up, inspired by his curiosity and tried to catch his attention.

“Sir?”

“Can I see that one, please?”

The man smiled.

“Of course.”

He reached for the key and unlocked the case. Just as he was pulling the velvet block out with the specified ring upon it, Eddie’s phone started to vibrate.

“Oh, excuse me.”

He turned partially away and glanced at the screen on his phone. He answered immediately, a smile on his face.

“Hey, Iris, what’s up?”

“I’m home,” she said, and he could hear the frown in her voice.

“So early?”

“Yeah, I felt bad for coming home so late every night this week…I thought we could have dinner together.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah?” She sounded relieved.

“Definitely. I’m uh…just running a last-minute errand. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“See you.”

He turned back to the jeweler as he slid the phone back in his pocket, and his eyes widened with enthusiasm as the ring was presented to him.

“Oh, yeah. This is the one.”

[amindofstone]

Match up, No. 9

@starlightbydaybright hat gefragt:

Hello! Saw you were taking match-ups and I was wondering if I could request one. Only done one before for another fandom, and I was wondering who I’d align with for One Piece ^^

I'm an INFP and generally an introvert, finding it difficult to express myself when I'm around people I'm unfamiliar with or just not close to. I can be both quiet and shy; quiet when I have no interest in making good impression on that person (a stranger I'll see once and never again) and shy when I'm genuinely trying to make myself acceptable to them. But, I do trust easily, so it's not hard to get close enough with me that I'll open up about almost everything, so long as they understand have my boundaries (that'll shift depending on how close). I'm also very affectionate with people I'm close with, particularly through physical touch, since I've been pretty touch starved. If you're close friends with me, you can find me constantly looking for a hug, but I can respect boundaries since not everyone enjoys contact.

The situation would be a bit different romance wise, since I’d revert a bit back to my introverted side, but also very affection-seeking at the same time. I say affection seeking as in I’d crave time and activities spent together with them, but I’d be afraid to ask/initiate, at least during the early beginnings of the relationship. I’d be constantly seeking affirmation of their love, and since I’ve never been in a relationship before (but desperately wanted one), they’d be constantly receiving my love too ❤️

While being an introvert in reality, I find it much easier to speak with confidence online. as I actually have time to contemplate what I can say. It's when I'm either with close friends or on the internet, that I can go on passionate endless rants or show my passive aggressive side. I'm usually pacifist, but if something irks me enough, I can and will pitch in snide/sarcastic remark or two, or if it's more serious; I will write out whole sophisticated and well worded paragraph that'd sound all polite with a hidden snarky tone.

I'm pretty much a hopeless romantic, so there's lot of couple things I want to try when I find someone. Back hugs, bridal carry, tickle fights, you name it. While I do enjoy these displays of affection (comes with the happy kind of embarrassment aka. I feel embarrassed that others sees it but I’m happy because I know they’re not doing it out of maliciousness and because they truly love me), small gestures are appreciated too; a gentle squeeze of the hand, a passing smile, etc.

As for hobbies, I enjoy reading, writing, (occasionally) drawing, but most of all; probably singing. I enjoy a wide variety of songs, depending on what mood I'm in, but I particularly like songs about love. Looking for someone to sing the duet love songs with me, doesn't matter how good or bad they are at singing. They can be tone deaf for all I care, it's the thought that matters 😊

I'm very emotionally sensitive, and can both laugh and cry easily. A random stranger online wished me good day? I'll be in good mood for awhile. Watched a 'mildly' sad movie? (Extra emphasis on mildly) I better have new box of tissue on the side just in case. It'd be nice to have someone that can either comfort me or at least tolerate my emotions, so I wouldn't be irking them 😞

I don't really have a type when looking for significant other but being an INFP does make the romance thing complicated. It'd be nice to have someone that's far along on the extroverted side (just not happy go lucky and can be serious) since, despite being introverted, I like to experience new things. I'm just too afraid to try alone and prefer it if someone else recommends it first. Someone to prompt me and nudge me to do something, but won’t take it too far if I really looked uncomfortable. (I’m also a procrastinator so they gotta find out the right ratio between pushing vs. taking it too far 😅) In relationship, I'd value trust and loyalty the most, since both are important in keeping the healthy relationship. If both sides could equally trust and be trusted, then there wouldn't be place for insecurity or fear. This ties in with another part of me being an INFP; I want a relationship that lasts forever. While it's weird to decide how long lasting the love will be early in the relationship, I don't think I can fully commit myself to someone, knowing that it'll end (through the other side falling out of love with me, finding interest in someone else, etc.) (natural causes like death are fine, even though I will still be sad 🥲)

As for appearance, I’m a 5”4 female with slightly wavy black hair that reach nearly to my waist. I don’t think I’m particularly short, but then again, every anime character seems to be straight up giants XD (Man, I was born with the wrong genes) I’m overall very plain, with black hair, brown eyes, but I’ve always been told I had pretty long eyelashes and big bright eyes. Average weight for my height, and flat chested :’)

As for the preference for gender, I’m mainly attracted to guys. I had some (very few) crushes on a small selection of female anime characters, but that were very rare, like 3, compared to my (insert large number) male crushes

Thank you in advance and sorry for how long this is 😔

P.s. I feel like I need to emphasize I’m still an introvert, since the personality I described is only limited to my very small friend group

a/n:

Hey there? How are you doing? Thank you so much for requesting. First off I should be apologizing for making you wait so long. I hope you´re not mad at me but lately there is a lot happening in my life. In my private life but also in my college life. But let´s put that aside and get to your request.

I have to thank you for the detailed info about you because that helped me to choose a match up for you so much. Like I instantly could think of someone. Not only did it help me to match you up with someone but also to come up with a plot. So I came up with this little imagine/hedcanon… I really don´t know what to call my work for the imaginies so I go with work. XD Anyways I really don´t know what to do at this point. Your request and your personality gave me such a good idea for a plot that I tried my best to keep it short because I decided to turn this request and my ideas and thoughts that are flying around in my mind to an actual FANFICTION! AHHHHHHHH. I can´t stop thinking about it. The idea sounds so damn good in my head that it makes me smile like an idiot right now! Uff I can´t wait to find time writing it down. AHAHH, but I fear that I already gave aways so much with this!!!! *pouts Doesn´t matter I´ll do it anyways. AHHHHHHHHHHH Thank you so damn much for requesting!

Anyways! Back to my work now. If there is anything that bothers you or you simply hate please make sure to tell me so I can change it and give you whatever you´d like. Other than that happy reading my dear!

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: I sadly don't know. Please tell me of you know so I can give credits. Thank you in advance. !!!

· I decided to pair you up with KILLER

· Like am I the only person that thinks that he is not getting the screen time and appreciation he deserves? Because that is the damn case! ODA GIVE THIS MAN THE LOVE AND APPRECIATION HE DESERVES. And while we´re at it I wouldn´t mind if I would get a bit more of Eustass Kid too… Thank you in advance. <3

· But that’s not the point. Please dear requesting beautiful human being give this man and me, your hopelessly dreamy author a chance. Thank you, I really appreciate. <3

· aNyWaYssssS.

+

· “y/n? Are you still awake?”, asked the blond man softly. “No worries I won´t make you carry me to bed again.”, you said with a giggle. You couldn´t see his face but you knew that he was smiling. “I don´t mind that you know? I like having you close to me without having to fear to see you hid under the blanket for who knows how long.”, you rolled you eyes and hit his arms. “That only happened because that idiot captain of yours annoyed the hell out of me. That was embarrassing Killer.”, you slowly put one leg over the railing and then the next one. Making sure you don´t fall down the ship. “What happened? Didn´t you drag me out our cabin to watch the stars?”, asked the muscular man who held you close to him while making sure you didn´t fell. “I did but now I´d like to look at something different. Something even more beautiful. Something that gives me warmth and happiness. Something that keeps me alive and always makes sure I am doing fine.”, talking to the blond pirate while sitting at the railing was one of the rare moments you were close to an eye level with him. “You mean my mask?”, asked the man with a tiled head that got you to roll your eyes and hit his chest. “Great you destroyed the sweet moment. I hate you. Make a step back so I can get down. I want to go back to bed and drown in regret of dating you.”, you tried to push him away but he was obviously stronger and threw you over his shoulder. “Of course you hate me. That was also the exact same thing you were moaning a while ago. Let´s go back to bed nerd.”

· As sweet and loving your relationship was now with the pirate it also started like that. Wanna know how? Alright let me get comfortable in my bed and get started. Story TIIMMMEEEE!!!

· An island well known for their universities and scientist. An island full of top ranked doctors.

· Physics, chemistry, biology, astrology was well thaught in the schools of the island. An island well known around the world. An island ruled by a powerful devil fruit user.

· An island in which every civilian had a talent in another field. And you? You sadly had an impressive talent for languages.

· Why sadly you wonder? Well the amount of times you had to run for your dear life because some pirates could come and kidnap you and make you read the poneglyphs is immense.

· Once even the infamous Red haired Shanks came and asked you with the hope to have someone who could read them. But sadly you couldn´t. You told him that you were done with pirates coming for you or your best friends. You regretted learning all of that and hated yourself for that. Shanks and Beckman to whom your were talking to really felt bad for you and claimed the island as their territory after they had a chat with ruler and made a deal.

· That was that saved you and your friends for years and made you happy. You were thankful to the red hair pirates and always treated them with meals and drinks when they came visiting the island. You were happy for 5 years. 5 years until these stupid reckless pirates came.

· And now? Now you hated yourself all over again

· You knew that not every pirate was like the red hair pirates. Nice and respectful. They didn´t kill innocent people and destroyed civilizations only to get some gold and diamonds. But these? These were horrible. Cold and cruel.

· “Someone make this btch talk otherwise I´ll do it by cutting her into pieces only stropping when IT actually starts to answer my god damn questions!”, screamed a tall and guy with red hair.

· You were scared. Tied on a mast on their ship, you feared for your life. Screaming for help was not an option since you were already on the sea since a while now.

· The man that was yelling at you none stop was now holding a blond man with a mask at his collar and growling at him. The man might have a mask on but you somehow had the feeling that he was talking to the man with the red fur coat. “Clear the deck! NOW!!”; yelled the man before he left inside the ship. Slowly every man on deck was leaving you alone. You wanted to ask them were or why the left but you knew that they wouldn´t give you an answer. You were a prisoner. A captive. A pathetic human they took on board. With the last pirate leaving you behind, a door that was located behind the mast you were tied on closed while the need to cry grew inside of you. How long am I here by now? One hour? Two or three? Was anyone missing me back at home? Were they already looking for me? Thoughts that occupied your mind were blurring your vision. You were looking right in front of you but also not. Your eyes were wide open but your vision was back at home. Home were you belonged.

· “Hey. Hey can you hear me? Hey you alright, woman? Hello?”, a man was squatting in front of you and waving with his hands in front of your face. You were deeply lost in your thoughts that you neither heard him coming nor saw him sitting right in front of you.

· But the moment he touched you tight you screamed and got back to reality. “Please don´t touch me. Please don´t hurt me. Please I beg you. Please.”, fear was written all over your face. You saw yourself death with a huge puddle of your blood. “Alright I won´t touch you. It´s just that I´ve been sitting in front of you for 5 minutes now and the only thing you did was breath and say no. Anyways here is something to drink. You´ve been her for four hours now. Half of the time unconscious and the other one either basically mute or in a trance.”, the guy in front of you was the same one who got the mad man to leave and clear the deck. It made you wonder who he was that he had such a power but you didn´t dare to ask. “Here I hold it for you and you drink.”, the glass was put on your lips and you drank. You didn´t knew how thirsty you were until your lungs were wetted by the water. Finished drinking he put a blanket over your legs since the position your were in didn´t allow you to cover yourself properly. And the fact that you were wearing a dress wasn´t helping at all.

· “Alright. You had something to drink I got you a blanket now tell me are you able to talk to me and answer my questions?”, you nodded. “Good. Now listen to me. There is this language that is called Krisanasy. As far as I know there is a tiny amount of people who are able to speak that and you are one of these. Am I right?”, you nodded. “How well are you in it?”, you gulped and looked at the man with the mask “I know the most important basics. I remember basic grammar rules and a good amount of vocabulary but I´m not that good in it. I didn´t worked with anything that included this language since years now.”, the masked man nodded and fully sat down now. “Would you be able to get back in it if you had some books and scripts to work with?”, slowly you understood where this was supposed to lead. You knew that if you said yes they would keep you as their prisoner and make your work for them. And if they had everything they would kill you because there would be no more use for you. But if you said no now and refused to talk to him he would probably also kill you. You were in a dilemma. You didn´t wanted to die but also didn´t wanted to die after you helped them. They were criminals. Feared and hated by the government and any human around the world. You looked down on your lap and let your head fall forward so your long black hair covered your face. “Hey I asked you something. Would you be able to do that?”, his voice was deep and rough but in the same time soft and gentle. That irritated you. it make you realize that him being nice to you now was just a way to get under your skin and make you do whatever they wanted. And then they simply would kill you in the most brutal and cruel way. “Hey, woman. Are you listening?”, you felt helpless. “I don´t want to die. Please let me go. Please. I beg you. Please.”, tears were streaming down you cheeks you couldn´t hold back anymore. He came closer and lifted you face. “Listen here you are a smart woman. Stop crying for fcks sake. If I would be you I would have made these pirates work for me. Use your damn brain and stop crying. Do you really think anyone in here would kill you? Heck no! They need your help. They need your brain because all of them are basically stupid. Like damn I need you to answer all of my questions before my captain with anger issues comes and beats the sht out of me. Now answer me woman. Are you able to get back in it if we got you some scripts to work on?”, you nodded while more tears streamed down you cheeks. You felt pathetic. You felt worthless and used. Helping them would turn you into a criminal too and ruin everything you worked on. Everything the emperor did for you and the island would be wasted. “See wasn’t that hard to answer.”

· The questioning went on for a while you didn´t know for how long but you knew that a long time passed since the sun stared to set. “Alright. Now I give you two options. One, stay here. Tied up on the mast no matter what kind of weather we face. Two you swear to obey me no matter what kind of order I give you and you will be able to sleep on a bed. You will get food and tomorrow you will start working on the scripts we give you. You choose.”, with your head hung lowly you said number two and instantly got released from the chains and handcuffs. He helped you stand up and covered you in the blanket before he led you into his cabin. “Wait here. Sit there and don´t do anything stupid as long as I´m not here. If you do anything stupid I won´t be able to help you. Got it?”, he didn´t even wait until you answered or gave any reaction he simply left and closed the door after him. So you waited while sitting with a lowly hung head. Minutes passed and he came back. “Your clothes are dirty. The bathroom is empty so you can take a bath or shower. Anything you want but I´ll be in the room with you. Because of one I have to make sure no one is coming in and secondly to watch over you and make sure you don´t do anything stupid. Got it. Fine. Take this towel and these clothes. We don´t have any female crewmates so you have to be wearing with my clothes until we dock on another island and you get to buy clothes.”

· The man with the mask took care of you for the rest of the day. He took you to shower and gave you fresh clothes. You had dinner with him alone in the kitchen when no one was around and got back to sleep. And no matter what you did he made sure to keep a respectful distance towards you. Whenever he had to come closer or touch you to take care of your wounds he would warn you. The day kept going like that. Nothing else was said about the following days and the thing they wanted you for. Only necessary things were said that were needed at the moment. And you only gave short replays or only answered with a head movement.

· Slowly the day passed by and the night took over with the moon putting the world alight. You were back in his cabin with him sitting on an armchair and you lying in bed sleeping with one hand tied up on the bed.

[effiethebookworm]

TSE Appreciation Week Day 3!

Hi again! Wow, almost halfway done with TSE Appreciation Week ALREADY? No way. If only it could be TSE Appreciation Month....... *wistful sigh* Here’s the fanfiction for Day Three! This one wasn’t my best one. I started out with a ton of motivation, but quickly lost it. Anyway, I hope you like it.

Idony and Melody

I sit next to the cold window, the smell of smoke wafting from the fireplace in the corner. I touch the windowpane, feel the frost seeping through, and quickly remove my hand. The children are out sledding today, but I decided to stay in. I dislike the cold, and wanted a bit of peace. The door to the room opens, and I hear my mother's boots stepping on the wooden floors.

“Idony, we have a new child with us.” I turn my face towards her, and get up from the window seat. I hear a smaller set of shoes now, coming into the room.

“Hello, what's your name?” I ask. My mother replies.

“This is Melody. Noah found her by the docks.”

“How are you doing, Melody?” Silence.

“Idony, Melody is mute.” I keep my smile on, although I no longer feel happy. Melody will be a new challenge. How will I keep track of her? I grope for my umbrella, and reach in Melody's direction.

“May I feel your face?” A hand grabs mine and squeezes. “I'm blind, you see.” The hand squeezes twice, and I reach up the arm and find the face. It has an upturned nose, long eyelashes that are damp with snow, full lips, and short curly hair.

“Mother, how do you know Melody's name?”

“She wrote it out in the snow for me when I asked.”

“So she knows how to write her name. Melody, can you read?” I ask. Her chin moves up and down.

“Wonderful. Do you know where your parents are?” Her chin moves up and down again.

“Perfect! Are they here in Greenway?” She pauses a moment, and then shakes her head. A moment later, she nods.

“Did you run away from home?” Another head shake.

“Did your parents abandon you?” Head shake.

“Did they die?” A nod. I reach onto her cheeks and feel tears. I grab a handkerchief from my pocket and dry her eyes. “I am very sorry to hear that, Melody.” She sniffles.

“Please take Melody to her room.” My mother says from the doorway.

“Yes, Mother.” Taking my umbrella in one hand and Melody's hand in the other, I take her upstairs to the girl's quarters. I don't really need the umbrella, I know the orphanage halls like I know the sound of my brother's voice, but it makes me feel safer. We get to the room, and I tell Melody,

“This is your new room. Find a bunk with nothing on it, and it's yours.” She lets go of my hand, and walks towards the bunks.

“The bell will ring at five for supper. The girls bathroom is the door to the right.” I point to my right, where I know the bathroom is. “Welcome to the St. Claire Orphanage, Melody.”

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“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Baysmore! Welcome to the St. Claire Orphanage. You're right on time for your appointment! My name is Idony St. Claire, and my mother owns the orphanage. Are you interested in adopting a child?”

“Yes. May we meet some of the girls?” A deep voice says.

“Certainly. Please follow me.” I lead them upstairs to the girls wing. Most of the girls are downstairs, playing or helping with chores, but a few stay up here and read.

“We have visitors, girls.” I can hear them scrambling into a neat line.

The Baysmores pass me to look at the girls.

“Hello, what's your name?” Mrs. Baysmore says.

Anna speaks up. “That's Melody. She's mute.”

The Baysmores quickly move on to the next girl, and I sigh. Melody has been here for three months now, and she has gotten that response on every single visit. As the Baysmores move down the line, I hear the rejected girls go back to their activities. It doesn't seem to bother them, being rejected so many times. I've talked to a few who actually don't want to be adopted. They want to stay until the age of eighteen and then go out into the world on their own. I know a few who have, and become successful workers and even business owners. I hear the Baysmores walking towards me, along with a girl.

“Miss St. Claire, do you have a foster option? We don't want anything final quite yet.”

“Oh, certainly!” I say. “If you'll just come downstairs with me, you can fill out the paperwork. Also, may I ask which girl you chose?”

“Me!” Rebecca says. The Baysmores sound confused.

“Why did you ask? Don't you know her name?” I laugh a bit.

“Of course I do. Can't you tell that I'm blind?”

“Oh my, I'm so sorry,” Mrs. Baysmore says.

“No reason to apologize.” I say. “Let's go fill out those forms.”

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“Hello, and welcome to the St. Claire Orphanage. Today is our annual Adoption Fair!”

Claps from the small crowd.

“This year, we decided that instead of having the girls' line on one side and the boys' on the other, they are grouped by age. Remember to look at all ages, not just the babies. All of the children are wonderful, and many would find amazing homes with your families. So, let the annual Adoption Fair begin!” More claps, and a few whistles. A very loud, high frequency squeaking noise.

“Enel, please stop. No one wants to go deaf today.”

The squeaking stops, and I hear giggles. I grab hold of my umbrella, and walk down the wooden ramp of the outdoor stage. The air is warm and at a perfect humidity level, perfect early summer weather. Child voices mingle with adult voices, and I hear laughter and even singing.

“This might be our most successful fair yet,” I hear a familiar voice say from a few paces away.

“Noah!” I rush towards my brother, and his arms envelop me. “How long have you and Papa been back?”

“A few hours. I have great news.”

“You and dad can stay forever?” I touch his face, and feel a slight frown. It disappears quickly when he says,

“Nope. I got accepted into medical school in the East!” I gasp. “That is amazing! Now you'll get to be a doctor, just like you've dreamed!” And maybe help me see again, I think, but don't say.

“The bad news is, I'll have to leave in the fall.”

“Oh, okay. But you usually do leave in the fall.”

“I'll have to stay until next spring.”

My face falls. “So long? Don't you get Christmas off?”

“Yes, but only two weeks. It takes a month to sail from Gallitan to Cedulan, where the school is.”

“Oh.” We are both silent for a while. “Well, I guess I'd better see how the fair is coming.” I say.

“And I ought to go unpack.” Noah squeezes my shoulder, and then lets go. I walk towards the noise of the crowd.

“How are you doing?” I ask a person at the edge of a cluster.

“Pretty well.” She responds very slowly and nasally. It is very hard to understand her.

“That's good!” I say. “Have you met any of the kids yet?” There is a long pause, and then a male voice says, “No, we haven't. I know this is an odd question, but do you have any deaf children here? We specifically want a deaf child.”

I am confused. “No, I'm afraid we don't. Is there any particular reason you want a deaf child?”

The woman speaks again, very slowly, and with a slight stutter.

“When I was a child, until r-recently, I was deaf. I had a surg-g-surgery last year so that I could hear. That is why I s-speak so s-s-slowly. I only learned to talk last year. I have-have been making a kind of speaking, but with hands. I call it S-Sign Language, and I want a child that I can teach it to. I al-also know the hardships of being deaf, so I might be a better mother than someone who has h-heard all her life.

“Oh, my. I am sorry that we don't have any deaf children.” Suddenly, an idea hits me. “We do have a mute girl. She can read and write, but she cannot speak. Do you think that she would work?”

“Yes!” The man says enthusiastically. “May we meet her?”

“Right this way, please.” I tell them. I walk over to a voice I recognise as Kulie, one of Melody's roommates.

“Kulie, do you know where Melody is?” Kulie looks around, at least, that's what it sounds like, and says, “There. 2 o'clock, straight shot.”

“Thank you Kulie.” I lead the couple over to Melody.

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“Melody? Melody! I know you can hear me!” I almost trip over a see-saw, but catch myself with my umbrella just in time.

“Melody! Come out. You need to go home with your new parents. Please, Melody.”

I hear a small whimper from inside the slide tower, about twenty feet away. The orphanage playground is huge, full of nooks and crannies and tiny secret passages perfect for hide-and-go-seek, but terrible for finding kids. I walk slowly over to the tower, carefully sweeping my umbrella in front of me before every step.

“Melody, please. You will love it with your new family, they have a big house, and a cat, and a big yard, and a big family of kids next door who you can play with. The mom used to be deaf and mute, and she can teach you how to speak with your hands. You liked her when you met her, remember?” I use the voice that I use to comfort sick babies. I am at the foot of the slide now, and I can hear Melody whimpering at the top.

“Melody, I know that change is scary, but you need to accept it. It's going to happen whether you like it or not. You need to come down by yourself. It's your choice. You don't have a choice on whether you're adopted or not, but you need to come down on your own. I'll wait for you.” I stand at the bottom of the slide for a moment, and then I hear the squeaky whoosh of Melody coming down the slide. She takes my hand, and squeezes. I take my handkerchief out of the pocket of my pinafore, and use it to wipe her eyes.

“Come on, sweetie. Let's get you to your new home.”

The End

[gaveherhearttotheliontattoo]

Title: Wrong Winchester Turned Right (Part X)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 2506

Warnings: None that I know of

Prompt: So not really a prompt, I was on Pinterest and I looked up fanfiction prompts and this popped up from a user who I can’t find the account of… Anyways reader jumps on the back of who she thought was her best friend in public but ends up quickly realizing her mistake.

Note: Shoutout to my beta reader for keeping me going

(Read Part I Here, Part II Here, Part III Here, Part IV Here, Part V Here, Part VI Here, Part VII Here, Part VIII Here, Part IX Here)

Taglist: @vicmc624

--

“70 years?” The shock you were feeling clearly shown across your face. “But then how is she here now?” You searched your brain, the depths of your memories to try to recall if there was anything you didn’t tell them. You’d spent so much time researching, you weren’t sure it was possible that you could have messed up on a detail as large as the resurfacing of this creature.

Dean watched you pace. He didn’t think you even recognized when you stood up to start walking. “It’s okay, (Y/L/N).”

You stopped walking, when did you start doing that, and stared at Dean. You had begun to associate his use of your last name with the intimate moments you’d shared. “I can’t explain this, how is that okay?”

“(Y/N/N), it is okay. You shared what you knew and we just have to do a little more digging.” Sam watched you, he’d seen the look in your eyes several times when you reached a stopping point in a case. “Maybe we should get some food.”

“You cannot make me calm down with food me with food Samuel Winchester.”

“Look, I know you. You’re hungry, hangry even. Let’s get some food and spend a little time just thinking about what could possibly explain the return. Any holidays, anniversaries, or similarities to another creature.”

You looked between the boys. “Fine, but we need to figure this out fast before she finds someone else to ensnare.”

------

After returning to the motel room you all secured a spot and opened up your laptops to do some research. You refused to give Sam the satisfaction that he had been right about food helping you, instead you continued to glare at your screen. It was like a scavenger hunt, picking through various clues to lead you to the reasoning she could possibly be awake 70 years earlier than she should.

You started by searching holidays that fell around that time that could have impacted this arrival. You’d hoped it would be as simple as All Hallow’s Eve but the timing didn’t make sense. You searched through the holidays but the only one that caught any attention was Litha, also known as the summer solstice. It was the longest day of the year but it was also the day that indicated the dark was taking back over. Considering the creature’s nature it wouldn’t be far off but there had to be something more. You switched to anniversaries.

You researched old cases that seemed similar. Disappearances of multiple girls, bodies never found, but a trail of men left in the wake of their disappearances. You spotted the trend of years between the appearances start to dwindle. What could have changed to cause this?

Dean spoke up, breaking your train of thought. “According to legend she is supposed to appear once a year, some Scottish folklore, but Sam found something saying she’s not supposed to appear for another 70 years.” 

“The American folklore mentioned that she was far more efficient when she would come out so she didn’t need to come out as much.”

“Folklore is just that boys, we need to remember that just because it’s what someone believes, it doesn’t mean it’s completely factual. Once upon a time the cases that resembled her activity were sparse but over the last 500 years it seems they’ve gotten closer and closer.”

“How did you research that far back already?” Dean stared in amazement. He drained the last of his beer, a small drop trailing down his chin.

You watch the drop of beer and your brain thinks of how nice it would be to lick it off of him. Well, that is going to be distracting. “Been doing it for a long time and I already had some prior knowledge. Her pattern is becoming more predictable though. Perhaps her investments aren’t lasting as long or the blood isn’t as rich as it used to be. Hunters do like to drink.”

Dean shared a wry glance with his brother as he popped the cap off his next beer. “Cheers to that. So, anyways, how do we know when she’s going to disappear?”

“We don’t, the dates of disappearance are the only thing that were ever inconsistent throughout time. Which is why we need to act fast.” You knew it was coming, the food break could only stall the conversation of you being used to lure her out for so long. “I say we take two days to prep and plan, and then Friday evening is the night we go through with it.”

Dean reminded himself this was the right thing to do and bunched his hands into tight fists. “What do you believe is the best course of action?”

You’d chosen the bed as your place of study but wished you were closer to Dean in this moment. You shifted your laptop to the bed and moved to the edge of Sam’s bed, close enough to rest your hands on top of Dean’s white-knuckled fists. “We go on a date.”

“A date? How will that get her attention?”

“I’ll be all dressed up and so happy to be out with you but you’ll go on and break my heart. My appearance should attract her because she has a thing for shiny objects and a mean man who deserves to die would be the icing on the cake she needs.”

“Doesn’t sound like we have to wait until Friday.” Dean adjusted, his muscles loosening at the fact that he would be with you during this scheme.

“We should wait though. Friday night is date night for most people. We need to round out the image and appearances too. Plus we can’t stop our search, especially with the interaction I had today. She’ll know we’re onto her and if we were to just go for it the next day it would look suspicious. Waiting provides us time to make it look like we are struggling, giving up, weakening.”

Dean released the fists he held and gripped your hands with his. “Weak is one thing we are not.”

“We know that, she won’t, especially if we can pull the fight off.”

Sam, who’d been patiently biding his time finally spoke up. “You two should investigate together tomorrow. You haven’t quite appeared as a couple in public and it will seem odd if the two of you just go out Friday. I’m going to take a shower while you figure out what you think you can fight about.”

You waited until the water was running, unable to pull away from Dean. You’d agreed to start something, but now the thought of ending it, even faking ending it, seemed too real too soon. “Can we pull this off?”

“Oh, I think I can manage to get upset with you about something.” Dean chuckled when you snarled. “See, we’re already ready to argue.”

“What about Sam?” Dean just stared at you, waiting for further explanation. “We could fight about Sam. I’ve been hunting and investigating with him over you so it wouldn’t be far fetched to think that there was something going on there.”

Dean flinched. “I don’t want that imagery, again.” Dean pulled you onto his lap, linking his fingers behind your back. “Does this mean we have to go shopping?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly pack going out clothes for a hunting trip.”

Dean resigned himself to the idea of spending hours looking for clothes with you, but reminded himself it was just more time he got to spend with you, something he was enjoying probably far too much. “We’re doing it together. I think it’ll help with the appearance, plus I want as much time with you before this all goes down.” Dean planted a kiss to your neck.

“It hasn’t even been three weeks that I’ve known you, the real you, but it feels like so much longer.” You hooked one arm around Dean’s neck, leaning back so you could look into his eyes. This next part wasn’t going to make him happy. “Promise me one thing, if this turns south and she lures me in, you won’t let her keep me. Trap me up until you can figure out a way to get me back or end it.” You felt yourself hit the bed before you had time to process what was happening.

“End it?” Dean was stomping the length of the room, thrusting his fingers through his hair. “We just talked about how we aren’t weak. There is no way anything is going to happen to you.” Dean stopped and looked at you. “I’m going to walk around outside for a bit, I need some space to think over the fact you want me to just end it.”

You flinched as the door slammed behind Dean. Maybe it was callous to say end it but if it was necessary so be it. To hell with him. Who did he think he was getting upset when he said he would go with the plan. To. Hell. With. Him.

You stood, prepared to just change and go to bed, but found yourself seeking out the man who continued to push your buttons.

“This is my choice!” You yelled to his shadow. “I can ask Sam to do it if you don’t think you can but I refuse to live a life with this creature where I’m luring and killing men for sport. You’re either with me or you’re not.” Satisfied you got that off your chest you turned to reenter the motel room but found yourself scooped into Dean’s arms. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t you dare ask Sam.” Dean carried you to the hood of Baby and set you down, standing between your legs. “Of course I would do it but did you think the concept would be easy for me to think about? What if I told you to end it for me if she managed to get her claws in me and I was fighting to hold on? How would you respond?”

You bristled, the thought quite unpleasant. “I get it, and I’m sorry, but it is part of the job, the life.” You leaned forward and linked your hands behind his neck, drawing him closer. “This should get her attention.”

“I’m not doing this for her attention,” Dean mumbled, dropping a featherlight kiss to your lips. “I like you, and I don’t like people lightly. Giving me time to wrap my head around losing you before we go through with this plan is probably for the best and it will probably help my anger during our faux argument.”

“It’s not going to be easy for me either. I may have been indifferent to you at first but I like you too.”

“Indifferent?” Dean chuckled. “You couldn’t have cared less about me at the start if you tried.”

“You’re wrong,” You said, recalling the day you jumped on his back. “I would say I found you annoyingly attractive but we just started off on the wrong foot.”

“Does that mean we are on the right foot?”

You answered by sealing your lips to his. You crossed your ankles behind his legs, pulling yourself as tight against him as you could. You didn’t even recognize your own behavior anymore, but you were about to put your life on the line in a way that you never had before. Not just yourself though, someone who had quickly become an important piece in your life. It should have shook you how much you cared about Dean but instead you felt comfort in his arms. 

“You’ve really gotta stop thinking while I’m kissing you,” Dean interrupted your train of thoughts.

Sighing you moved your hands to cup his face. “I was just thinking about how comfortable I am in your arms.”

“Oh,” Dean said, squeezing you tighter. “Well, in that case, could you think out loud?”

“Let’s go back in before we draw too much attention to ourselves.”

Dean scooped you off the hood of the car. “Don’t wanna scratch the hood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, you didn’t scratch the hood, now put me down.”

Dean continued to carry you, dropping you on the bed, ignoring the look Sam was giving him. He turned to his duffle bag, deciding he needed to take a very long shower. He lifted the duffle bag onto his shoulder and winked at you before walking into the bathroom. He wanted you to join him but this case needed to be over before he could think about going any further with you.

He stripped out of his clothes and turned the water on, not as hot as he normally would but he needed to cool down, which would normally work if you hadn’t knocked on the door. “What?”

“I need to change.”

“Couldn’t you just ask Sammy to step outside?”

“Oh, don’t be a baby.”

Dean pictured you changing, easily done since you’d showered together just that morning. How had it only been since that morning when it felt like it had been days if not weeks since that had occurred. “(Y/L/N), you’re killing me.”

“When you first started using my last name I hated it but now I find it endearing, kind of a turn on.” You heard Dean groan, bringing a smile to your lips. 

“Could you just change and go so I can get on with my shower.”

You slipped your night shirt over your head. “Right, I’m sure that’s all you need to get on with.” When Dean’s head whipped around the shower curtain to glare at you the laughter bubbled from deep within before you could stop it. “I’m going.” You walked out still laughing, catching a curious eye from a lounging Sam. “Just teasing your brother.”

You curled onto your side under the blanket, keeping room for Dean since you knew that was where he was going to sleep. You thought about how you woke up with him and the events that had transpired to his black eye, followed by the entire day you had. You were overwhelmed and the exhaustion soon took you under.

Dean attempted to get under the covers without waking you. Sam was out and the only light was from the moon shining through the curtains. He sucked in a deep breath when you rolled against him, nervous.

“What time is it?” You mumbled.

“Just close your eyes and go back to sleep.” Dean wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close so your head rested on his chest. As soon as Dean could feel your chest rising and falling at a slower rate he relaxed and felt himself begin to fall asleep. He knew the next two days were going to be long as the preparations to face the creature who inadvertently brought you together unfolded so he took the time to enjoy the feel of you in his arms. Running his fingers and up and down your arm he let the pattern lull himself to sleep.

[olivieblake]

Hey Olivie! Thank you for answering all my previous questions, I'm afraid I'm going to bother you again! Feel free to disregard this question if its uncomfortable or you don't want to express an opinion on this for any reason. So, I'm part of another fandom where the cannon characters are all around 16-17 years of age, and lately I have seen more and more people talk about how people should not be making fan content that includes explicit material because it is sexualizing minors.

I find myself disagreeing with that logic, a lot of people also claim that these characters should not be aged up If the reason for that is for them to deal with heavier topics, primary sexual themes. but also others. It feels to me like a return to earlier days in fandoms. As someone who has been in fandom for a long time what is your opinion on this? Also in other fanfictio news I highly recommend a YouTube video by Lindsay ellis about an A/B/O lawsuit it was entraining and surreal

you know, I think about this a lot, since in Clean they’re both 16 or 17 and nobody gave me any shit for it at the time, but since then I’ve seen arguments start to arise about why that’s problematic. so I kinda disagree with it feeling like a return to early days? to me this feels newer, a result of transformative works becoming more mainstream, less on the fringe. the fact that there’s a video about the A/B/O lawsuit and articles about the Snapewives in non-fandom spaces shows that people are more aware of what’s produced in fandom than ever before, and I think that’s changing the ethos, I guess, of what’s appropriate for fanfiction

anyway I’ve thought a lot about this since publishing Clean and I definitely do understand the inherent problem with sexualizing minors. however, I also think 1) we shouldn’t police art, especially not fan works that don’t have mass publication machines behind them and 2) two characters being consensually sexual with each other is not the same thing as the concern that the author/audience may be sexualizing minors in a predatory way. I think it’s kind of ridiculous to pretend like teenagers aren’t actively sexual whether you write them having sex or not? I used to feel uncomfortable about the fact that minors were reading my sex scenes until I remembered that when I was a teen, I was actively seeking out sex in books and media to try to understand what I wanted in terms of romantic love and physical connection. so, knowing that, I can at least say for sure that the way I write sex is consensual, respectful, safe, and realistic. if someone underage is reading my portrayal of sex, I have no problem with what I’ve written, so ultimately while I don’t know where to land on this issue in any universal way, I definitely don’t believe it’s causing the harm that people suggest that it might

in terms of where to draw the line between sexualizing minors and writing sex, I think this falls under that universal pornography “rule” where I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it? so for example writing 17 year olds who are sexually active isn’t the same as lusting after minors. *I* have absolutely no interest in having sex with a 17 year old even if my other 17 year old character does. and I mean, is it fair to pretend sex doesn’t exist before the age of 18?? I don’t think so. censorship in fandom in a world where tags and TWs already exist doesn’t protect anyone, but it does chip away a possible source for a safe, open environment for collaborative art. so while I understand and appreciate the existence of the debate, I think it should really be more of a case-by-case analysis of individualized narrative content vs. a blanket rule of “let’s just not write teenagers at all”

[thebeltanequeen]

The (Blurred? Nonexistent? Inconsequential?) Line Between Canon and Fanon: An Impromtu Essay by Me

I’m currently have an existential crisis. An absolute, balls to the walls, pull my hair out, stare at the walls wondering what the meaning of existence is, kind of existential crisis. Why, you may ask? Because the older I have gotten, the more Fanfiction I have read. That’s normal. Millions of other people read fanfic like me. Well, in the past few years, I have also realized that the more fanfiction I have read, the less shits I give about the actual canon of the media I love. I care less and less about what “actually” happened, and delve into fanon instead. It’s as if the two have SWITCHED ROLES in my brain. The canon is the lie, and the fanon is the truth. This used to not be the case though, so how did we get here? And why… why is this realization sending me into an absolute spiral of insanity? Why do I feel like I have been sucker punched in the jaw? Let me explain.

I’ve been reading and dabbling in writing my own fanfiction for over twelve years. It used to be an escape, a way to further delve into my latest obsessions and become consumed by them. I have this annoying habit of also picking ships that do NOT become endgame, so I’ve always sought out fanfiction as a balm for my shipper’s soul as well. I still read fanfiction as if my life depends on it… but now it’s at the expense of reading new books. Watching new media. When I do eventually dip my toes into a new fandom, I either reject it quickly or become consumed again and make a grab for fanfiction… but in the past few years, something in not only me, but in fandoms in general has shifted.

The difference between me now, and me back then is this… I used to uphold the canon as sacred. Untouchable. Set in stone. The only credible source for the media I consume. All of the fanfiction I read was just beautiful window dressing. A lovely past time to further increase my dopamine intake.

This is no longer the case.

Now, when I read and write fanfiction, it’s as if it is an act of protest. I am actively seeking to reform the narrative. It’s to “take back” the story, the characters, EVERYTHING, for myself. To make it anew. To make it perfect. I’m not alone either. I see you. I see all of you. Now more than ever, I see more and more of us doing this exact same thing.

THIS is why I am having an existential crisis. I have just realized that I will no longer be content with the canon. Ever. Even the canon of my favorite media. It’s not enough. It’s no longer enough. It won’t ever be enough again. Why? Because there will always be places where the canon is falliable. The authors of the canon, are falliable. As an author myself, this is at once an alarming yet powerful realization.

I went to college for creative writing. At the beginning of my academic career, I thought of fanfiction as a beautiful fairytale world. It was glorious, but it was other. Separate. Not as credible as canon. Had I read fanfiction better than the media it was based on before I entered college? Absolutely, but in my head it still didn’t matter because the canon was the word. The canon was the law. As a writer, I held the power of the author (and by extension the power of myself) as sacred. By the end of college, that began to change.

The more I was taught about writing, the more I came to realize that sometimes, authors are just straight up WRONG. Sometimes, there’s soooooo much potential… AND THEY JUST FUCK IT UP!!!!!!! The bones are incredible, but the canon is weak, the logic is lacking, the story makes no sense, the characters don’t reach their full potential and you know what? I’m tired. I’m tired of it. This is why fanon is canon’s salvation. Fanon makes canon look pathetic. But… if I accept the fanon as the reality, and make the canon the lie, does that still make it fanon? No. I don’t think it does. I think fanon has become something other. Something greater.

I have become disillusion by “published” or “credible” books. 95% of the novels I actually buy at the store today are garbage. Trash. Half written nonsense that only serves the purpose of paying people. I’m TIRED OF IT. I’ve become disillusioned by the “power” of the author. I have become disillusioned by canon. FUCK canon, quite frankly. Rip it apart. Dissect it. Take out it’s beating heart and transplant it into a new body. Give it the soul that the narrative was begging for. REVIVE IT. LET YOUR OWN IMAGINATION MAKE IT ANEW. Characters mean too much to people. Fiction means too much to people. Stories mean too much to people for anything less. Only then will you or I be satisfied.

Now, even an impromptu, unedited, gibberish essay is not complete without examples. I’ll start with one that you probably thought of while reading this. Game of Thrones. I think that two years ago, the ending of the most influential show of the entire decade, is where my subconscious began to shift in this direction. Now, I doubt my opionions about GoT are the same as yours, but you know what? It DOESN’T MATTER because FANON CAN FIX THE CANON. The stories that meant so much to millions can be fixed by accepting the fact that THE CANON ISN’T THE LAW! IT FUCKED UP!!!! CANON DOESN’T DESERVE TO SPEAK ANYMORE!!!! TAKE BACK THE STORY AND TRANSFORM IT INTO A VERSION TRULY WORTHY OF THE GLORIOUS BONES IT HAS!!!!!

We also can’t ignore the role that monetization plays in the media we consume. Why leave our fiction in the hands of just the big names? Why let money dictate what is real and not real? WHY SETTLE FOR MEDIOCRE STORYTELLING JUST BECAUSE IT WAS SOLD TO YOU AND THEREFORE IT’S “LEGIT CANON”??? FANFICTION IS FREE, AND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PIECES OF WRITING I’VE EVER READ WERE WRITTEN BY FANFIC AUTHORS WHO DID IT FOR THE STORY. WHO DID IT FOR THE ART. WHO ACTUALLY DID IT JUSTICE. FUCK THE CONCEPT OF FANON AND CANON. THE STORY WE WANT IS ALL THAT MATTERS. GET MONEY OUT OF HERE.

Ahem. To avoid going on even more of a tangent, I’ll move on and give the example that triggered my existential crisis in the first place. Sailor Moon. To give some background, Sailor Moon is it for me. I have grown up with it. I’ve watched it my entire life. As a child, I ran around with my toy moon rod and desperately wanted to be Usagi. Ironically, I grew up to be quite a bit like her (but with Rei’s temper admittedly). It is my comfort show, my happiness. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry. I never tire of it. It makes my heart swell. I have never, nor will I ever, love any piece of media the way I love Sailor Moon. Flash forward to today, I watched Sailor Moon Eternal, the two new movie adaptations of the Dream arc in the manga (stick with me non-manga and anime lovers). I liked the films, but I was left with a deep, disatisfied yearning. I want back the feeling of complete bliss I experienced while watching the 90’s anime as a child. The problem with this? I’ll never get it back. I’ve just realized this. I’ll NEVER get it back. Why? Because it’s no longer the perfect version of Sailor Moon that it was to my young eyes. Crystal, while good, is also not the perfected version I seek in my adulthood, and Eternal has not scratched my insatiable itch. I am heartbroken because I’ve realized that Sailor Moon in its perfect form doesn’t exist anymore. If I held any canon sacred, it was this. But the story is flawed. The manga is flawed. The anime is flawed. It’s not infallible, as much as it truly, deeply hurts me to admit to the world and to myself. The only perfect version of Sailor Moon is the one in my heart. It’s the one I choose to piece together for myself with the building blocks that others who came before me have handed over.

Another, more recent example of falliable canon is The Grisha Verse. More specifically, the Shadow and Bone trilogy. I was brought in to the fandom by Ben Barnes’ depthless eyes and magnificent scruff. And you know what? I liked the story, but I stayed for Ben Barnes. I liked the Darkling so much that I bought the entire grisha verse books. It was a premature decision. I’ve only made it halfway through Storm and Seige, and you know what? I’m tired of the canon already. It’s not that great. The bones are there, but it could be SO. MUCH. MORE. I haven’t read the crow books yet, and by all accounts Leigh Bardugo has improved tremendously as a writer. Which incidentally proves my point. Authors are falliable. Ergo, the canon is falliable. I can’t help but think while I read these books, “Damn. I could write this better.” and you know what? I’ve read fanfics that HAVE written it better.

Am I saying this to trash Bardugo? Or even GRRM? (Yes I admit to trashing D&D but that’s beside the point ahem…). NO. I am NOT trashing the writers. I’M A WRITER. I GET IT. YOUR STORY IS YOUR BABY. I G E T I T . But I’ve realized, and what I think future authors will also have to realize, is that fiction doesn’t belong to anyone. As soon as it’s out the door, the fiction no longer belongs to the author. It belongs to us. The people. That’s what is beautiful about fanfiction. It’s not here for the money. It’s not here for the clout. It’s here for the fiction itself. Plain and simple. It belongs to no one and everyone.

In the past, I would have fought this. I would have wanted my work’s canon to be law. To be the word, the truth, the way etc. Now? I can’t be a hypocrite. I can’t be selfish. It isn’t about the author. It’s about the vision. It’s about the story, the narrative, the characters. It’s about art. And sometimes, the authors give birth to the idea (and they deserve credit for that without a doubt), but it’s also true that sometimes, someone else just writes it better. Someone else quite simply saw the vision, the story, the characters, more clearly than the author did. I make this vow now, as an author, to strive for the vision. If someone takes my vision and does it better than me, that only improves my perspective of my own story. It improves the world of fiction as a whole. It makes me better.

So, canon? Fuck the canon. Take back the story. Take back the characters. Take back the art. Fiction is ours. It belongs to us, and we can do with it what we please. Let’s strive for OUR OWN perfected version of the media we love. Canon doesn’t truly exist. The concept of Fanon doesn’t even exist anymore in the way we used to think of it. The author’s version of events is their own Fanon of the story. Canon is meaningless now. There is only the story that you accept in your own mind. There is only the story that I accept in my own mind, no matter how different it is from yours. There is only the art. There is only the limitless potential of countless people’s imaginations. Let’s continue to collaborate and celebrate beautiful stories together, in any conceivable way, over and over and over again, until the end of time.

Fin

[vendeavendea]

From Cuts to Scars

It’s fanfiction time!

I'm finally able to share something here that's not personal stuff or venting, so please enjoy a little bit of traumatised fictional characters instead of traumatised me :D I love both of them to death, and I'm so so sorry about torturing them! (Actually, I'm totally not sorry.)

It also exists on AO3 if anyone prefers to read it there.

Summary: Hordak and Entrapta realise that healing is not always easy. Set weeks/months after the season 5 finale, I'll leave it for you to decide when exactly. CW for mentions of blood, physical injury and mental trauma, but I tried to keep it light, so nothing very nasty.

From Cuts to Scars

"Ouch!" Entrapta exclaimed, suddenly dropping the pipe cutter she was working with. The metal clanked on the floor, its sharp sound echoing between the walls.

"What happened?" Hordak left everything at his own working area and quickly moved over to Entrapta's. She was standing by her desk, several piles of metal parts around her neatly organised into different categories by size and purpose, her left index finger in her mouth, frowning a little bit in pain. With a lock of her hair shaped into a hand, she pointed down at the cutter. He picked it up and looked at Entrapta, then, when he figured out what had happened, he clenched his fist around the handle.

"Unwary fool," he scolded, waving the tool in front of her face for a few seconds before he moved a bit closer to her to toss it back at the desk. His eyes ran over her bare hands, and he huffed quietly. "You're supposed to wear protective garment, where is it?"

"Well, I have my gloves here, but I had to take them off." She pulled her finger out of her mouth to reply, and cradled it in her other hand. "I'm working on the most delicate part right now, and I need to give a very meticulous attention to measurements or else it won't last. The gloves make it more difficult to..."

"You're impossible," he snarled. For some reason, it scared him to think about how the moment she removed her protective clothing, the instant she became vulnerable, she damaged herself with the first object she'd come in contact with. "Don't ever attempt to do this again. Now let me see it."

She reached out her arm, and he took her hand with a gentle gesture and pulled it up towards himself. Entrapta used her hair to push her body away from the floor and lift herself closer to his eye level so that he could see her finger better. Luckily, the cut didn't seem to be serious at all, but it was deep enough to cause a significant amount of pain. A thin line of blood was running down on her finger, gathering in the small dent where their skins touched. Hordak smudged it away very carefully, making sure that he didn't press her wound too hard or hurt her skin even more with his sharp claws, but just a second later, a new drop appeared and started to grow slowly until it was large enough to stream down again.

"You're bleeding," he remarked.

"Yes, but don't worry, it's such a minimal amount I'm quite confident it won't cause a hemorrhagic shock," Entrapta assured, grinning.

"I know that! Don't be a fool," Hordak snapped. "We need to treat this before it bespatters everything. Here, hold this." He grabbed a clean cloth from the tiny shelf under the desk and gently pressed it against her finger. "I'll get some bandage. And it's time to suspend this for now. No more tinkering until tomorrow," he added, pointing at her working desk.

"Aw, but I'm almost done," she protested. "I must finish this tonight, it's very important. I just need to make a few more cuts and welds before it's ready for the first test."

"You definitely don't need to make any more cuts," he grumbled, then he turned around to walk back to his workstation. He knew there was supposed to be a box of bandages somewhere, but it took him longer than expected to find it.

Meanwhile, Entrapta walked to the opposite corner of the room, to the huge cot covered by all those different sizes of colourful cushions that Glimmer had sent them as a present. They'd built this part of the lab for relaxing, but they barely ever used it. During the day, neither of them liked having breaks, they were constantly up and about building things, taking things apart, discussing plans, sharing data with each other; and at night they both had their own place to sleep. The only occasions the cot had come in handy had been those few times when Entrapta had done some maintenance work on Hordak's armor that had required him to take it off, and he'd needed a soft surface to keep his sensitive body comfortable while it had been uncovered. She dropped down and sprawled on the cot, face down, hugging as many cushions as she could with one arm, including the largest of them, a very fluffy pastel purple and sky blue one that Hordak had once described as a gaudy and tawdry piece of botchery. She'd never realised how nice and cozy this cot was, and it felt wonderful to just lie there with her eyes closed, breathing in the pleasant blend of perfumes from the cushions that reminded her of Bright Moon and the smell of petroleum that was probably coming from her own hair. She didn't even mind the stinging pain throbbing in her finger, but Hordak was probably right, she didn't want to get all her equipment dirty with blood, so it was better to just wait for him to dress that cut before she got back to working on her machine.

She didn't move an inch until she felt the cushions stirring, then the weight of Hordak's body elevating the mattress under her for a moment, and his right leg pressing against her left thigh as he settled himself next to her. She stretched her limbs and sat up when she heard him opening the first-aid box. Neither of them said a word while he was working, the only noise breaking the silence was a weak squeak coming from her throat the moment he first touched the cut with a cloth soaked in saline. Her arm twitched as she felt the wound absorbing the salty water and sharp pain flared up in her finger, but he was holding her wrist firm and strong so that she couldn't instinctively pull back. Usually it was her fixing up his body, not the other way around, and she knew too well that the mild discomfort she was feeling right now was nothing compared to the severe pain she'd caused him every time she'd been repairing his armor, even though he'd always done his best not to show any sign of it. She put a warm, admiring smile on her face as she watched him wrap bandage around her finger.

"Great, thanks," she grinned after he secured the ends with a small knot. "Now, back to work!" she added, ready to jump up and run back to her workstation, but he didn't get up, nor did he let go of her hand.

"Did you not hear what I've said?" he asked. "No more tinkering. You're going straight to bed."

"I will," she promised. "But I really, really need to finish this prototype first."

"No." With a very careful and soft motion, he stroked the edge of her bandage with the tip of his thumb. "It's almost midnight. You've been working for days with barely any break. You're exhausted, and it's affecting your performance. You need to take better care of yourself."

"But that's exactly what I've been doing," she chirped, her eyes shining in excitement. "I've been studying the alternating of different types of brain waves during several common daily activities, and I came to a fascinating conclusion that the rythm of the waves influences the relaxation level of the brain, more precisely, the slower the rhythm gets, the more relaxed the brain becomes. So, if I was able to reproduce this phenomenon by artificially generating slower brain waves such as delta waves, there's a significant chance it would lead to an increased quality of sleeping and help me overcome my insomnia and my nightmares, which is... self-care, right?"

"Entrapta, you..." Normally, listening to her sharing her ideas with him would be a pleasant experience, he was always mesmerised by the passion in her eyes and her voice when she was talking about things she was working on, things she deeply cared about. But this was different. There was something painful about the excitement on her face, something that resembled... despair, maybe. "You never told me you're having nightmares," he said, his ears pointing slightly downwards.

"It's not that important," she smiled weakly, still trying to keep her tone light, but looking up to his face, she started to suspect that it probably didn't suit the nature of the conversation anymore. She quickly turned away her head, her eyes on the gaudy cushion, the edge of the cot, the tip of her shoes – anything would do if it helped her escape his penetrating glance. She'd never been good at holding direct eye contact for too long. "They're usually about Horde Prime. But he's gone. He can't hurt us anymore. We're safe. So it doesn't matter."

He didn't know what to say. She was right, and yet she was so wrong. If those nightmares were bad enough to prevent her from having a peaceful sleep, to force her to stay awake and work so hard, so desperately, seeking for a remedy, then it did matter. A spark of an unknown emotion flared inside of him, something he'd never felt before, yet it was strangely familiar, and it took him a while to identify it as... anger? Or not exactly? He wasn't sure. Anger was something he was supposed to know very well, but this version of it seemed different from everything he'd ever experienced before. For some reason, it included a strong urge to gently pull Entrapta against his body, to hold her protectively, and he didn't quite comprehend the reason behind this, so he simply resisted the instinct, hoping it would fade away if he didn't act on it. But it stayed, and it made him uncomfortable and confused.

"Why have we never discussed it?" he asked.

"I've just explained why," she replied with a hint of uncertainty. "Did you not listen? With Horde Prime gone, it's not important anym—"

"Stop saying that!" he interjected with a loud grunt, making her twitch for a moment as he raised his voice. Realising that he might have scared her, he pulled back with an apologizing look on his face, but he didn't loosen his grip around her fingers. He took slow and deep breaths, closing his eyes for a moment, attempting to calm his mind. He'd been working hard to overcome his temper issues for a while, and he didn't understand where the sudden wave of rage was coming from. It may have been the thought that he was the one who'd failed to protect her from whatever she'd witnessed while being held hostage by Horde Prime, from whatever horrible things that had etched themselves into her mind so strongly that they'd been causing her nightmares ever since. She didn't deserve this. And he didn't deserve her forgiveness. He quickly shook his head, he didn't want to give in to these excruciating thoughts, not this time.

"Well... What is it exactly that you want to discuss?" Entrapta asked patiently.

He remembered the moment when she, after Horde Prime had finally left his body forever, had rushed into his arms laughing and crying in joy, squealing that they'd had so much to talk about. And since that day, they had indeed talked about many things. About space and magic, about scientific research, about plans, blueprints, robots, First Ones' tech, ideas, experiments, new discoveries. About staying together as lab partners for the foreseeable future. About helping to rebuild all the kingdoms the Horde had destroyed. But still... "Everything that happened... What he's done to us... We never talked about it," he whispered, bringing his right hand under her chin to gently lift up her head, searching for her magenta orbs. "You never told me how much he's hurt you."

She looked away again, this time turning her whole body away from him, pushing his hand back from her face, peeling his fingers off her hand with a firm but gentle movement. Had she been wearing her welding mask, she would have used it to cover her face, but it was resting at her workstation, too far out of reach, so she just pressed her legs together, slightly bending her back and leaning forward to hide herself behind the curtain of her hair.

"He's hurt you, too, way more than he's hurt me," she drawled slowly, thinking through every single word before saying them out loud. "It made me very uncomfortable to think about him, and I thought you'd felt the same. I thought if I never brought it up, we'd both be able to move on. I wanted to talk about pleasant things with you. I wanted to think about the future. I wanted to see you happy." That last word made his ears flinch for a moment, but before he could say or do anything, she continued. "I'm sorry I've assumed things instead of asking. I know this is something I need to be more careful with."

"No, I..." He hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to invade her personal space just after she'd pulled away, so he resisted the urge to lean closer and sweep her hair out of the way to reveal her face. "I deeply relate to what you've just described."

"Really?" She twitched her shoulders a little bit. People usually didn't understand her at all, and Hordak's words made her feel... seen. Her lips curved into a faint smile, though she knew her face was still hidden behind her hair so he wouldn't notice.

He nodded. "Yes. And I owe you an apology, because I, too, have kept things from you for the same reason."

The tip of her ponytails twitched in realisation, and she finally looked up to face him. "Are you... having nightmares as well?"

"They're more like... flashes," he replied hesitantly. "Visions. Of... things." He presumed that specifying "things" as images of himself pointing his arm cannon at a horrified, trembling Entrapta, ready to shoot her to death, would probably have been too harsh. He shivered, and a thin lock of her hair swarmed up his right shoulder, softly stroking him in consolation. He reached out for that lock and slowly ran his fingers through it, then he closed his eyes, gave a long sigh and flopped back on the cot, with his head and neck against the wall. He felt Entrapta following him, settling herself comfortably between the cushions and his body, but barely touching him – just a light contact of a lock of her hair against his shoulder, continuing the gentle, soothing motions.

"I don't understand why we're like this," she said blankly. "It doesn't make sense. He's gone, and he's never coming back, so everything's supposed to be okay, but it's not."

"Exceedingly illogical indeed," he agreed. "But this provides us new areas to explore, and I believe that's what we should do."

The stroking motions stopped, and the lock of hair was now resting still on his shoulder. "I'm not sure I want to explore this," she muttered. "It would... hurt."

"I've explored your cut. And it hurt you, but it was also very beneficial," he pointed out. "Just like when you do maintenance work on my armor. Maybe sometimes things are supposed to hurt first so that they can get better."

"You think so?"

"I do." He slightly turned his torso towards her, lifting up his hand to... slide it against her arm? Put it on her waist? Pull her closer? He hesitated for a moment, then simply placed his hand atop her lock of hair that was still resting on his shoulder, and rushed his fingers through it. He soon felt a ticklish sensation on his claws as her hair curled itself around them, forming into a soft, violet-coloured hand, and he found himself smiling, if only for a glimpse of a moment. "I know it's hard. It's painful. And I don't want to press you. But there's nothing wrong with talking it out. As you've said it yourself, he's gone. There's nothing to be afraid of. Talking about what we've been through won't bring him back, and it might even benefit us in some ways. So if there's anything, anytime, that you wish to tell me, I'll always be there to listen."

She felt her eyes get watery. "Do my nightmares really concern you this much?" she asked quietly.

"Of course they do," he replied. "My lab partner's safety and wellbeing are my most significant priorities."

Entrapta grabbed a cushion with a lock of hair, and pulled it closer to her face. "I care about you a lot, too," she responded. "And you can also tell me anything, anytime."

He let go of her hair and reached out to hold her left hand, carefully sandwiching it between his two palms. For a few seconds, he examined her wounded finger.

"How does it feel?" he asked, running his thumb across her knuckles just above the bandage.

"Slightly itchy." Entrapta gave a weak little laugh, then a deeply honest smile warmed up her face, though her gaze seemed a little uncertain. "There is actually something I want to tell you. I want you to know that I... When I was... When Horde Prime... When you were gone, Hordak, I really missed you."

He somehow expected, hoped to hear these words from her, but that didn't make it easier to respond. There was nothing he could think of to say. No matter how badly he wanted to answer "I missed you too", it just wouldn't have worked, he felt like it wouldn't have been honest enough. When he'd been deceived into believing that Entrapta had betrayed him, and after he'd found out she'd been sent to Beast Island and had probably been dead, he'd became completely empty. He hadn't been able to feel anything at all, let alone miss her. And while under Horde Prime's control, his memories of her had seemed to be so distant, they'd felt like they'd been from someone else's life. Sometimes he'd seen flashes of the two of them experimenting with the portal in his sanctum, but other times he hadn't even been able to recall her name. All he'd done was try as hard as possible to cling to that feeling while holding the crystal in his hand, clenching his fist around it so strongly that the sharp edges had almost felt like they'd pierce through the skin of his palm. Yes, sometimes, there had been that strong urge to be around her, to understand the strange warmth her presence had awaken in him, to figure out why everything about her had felt so familiar, but he clearly couldn't have missed her, because he hadn't known who she was. He hadn't even known who he'd used to be. Not until the very end.

"Oh, it's okay, you don't have to say you missed me, too. I know it's complicated," Entrapta said quickly after finally realising why Hordak went so quiet. "But I definitely missed you. I wished you'd been there with me when I went to space. I thought about how we could've explored all those galaxies together. We could've collected so much data, and I'd have let Darla analyse them for us, and... What I'm saying is... I was thinking about you. A lot," she murmured, and Hordak gave her a smile, probably the tenderest one he'd ever given to anyone in his life.

"I... was trying my best to think about you, too," he answered.

"I knew you would." She moved a bit closer and looked up in his face, then slowly, hesitantly, because this was something new to them, and a part of her was afraid of him pulling away, she laid down her head on his shoulder. He didn't move or protest at all, so Entrapta carefully placed all her weight on him, gently wrapping her hair around his upper arm. Then she felt him spreading that particular arm over her, his palm resting against her waist. She'd never done anything like this to anybody before. At first it was awkward and a little bit scary to be this close to someone and sense each and every little flinch of his body, and then she suddenly felt even more exposed when she realised it was mutual. But after a while, the sensation started to become more natural, and the tension slowly faded away, leaving only comfort and pleasure behind. She took a deep breath and curled up her legs, lifting another lock of hair to softly twine it around his body, pulling herself even closer against his chest. Then she just rested her head there, eyes closed, she had no idea how long for.

"Hordak?" she whispered wearily. He let out a low, sleepy, interrogative growl. "I think what we're doing right now is having a positive effect on my relaxation level. May I... Could we just stay here for a while, please?"

All he did in response was reach out for her right hand and lace their fingers together while tilting his head just enough to be able to bury his face into her hair, breathing against her scalp, and Entrapta happily sank into the feeling.

"Is that a yes?" she asked softly.

"A very definite one."

[pebblysand]

[writing rant - on the monetisation of fanfiction]

a couple of months ago, when i updated my long fic, one of the people on the comments wrote to me the nicest possible review (one of the ones that you keep in your feel-good 'saved' emails - you know the ones), which, amongst other things also said: 'If I could pay you for this...believe me, I would.'

in the moment, i kind of smiled and laughed, and thanked the person for their kind words before moving on with my life. yet, since then, i have to admit that this sentence has kind of been living rent-free in my head. i think it is also because since diving back into fandom a few months ago, i've noticed something that kind of shocked me at first: more and more fanfiction writers seem to be monetising (or attempting to monetise) their craft.

now, back when i started writing fanfic, we wrote fanfic on ffnet and livejournal. it was accepted that thou shalt never (ever) charge money for your writing or else the author and their mean, angry lawyers will come after you for damages and you will die a slow and painful death. we wrote disclaimers at the start of all of our posts and thanked the gods every day when we did not get sued.

i have seen this change gradually over the years. first, in the mid 2010s, the disclaimers went. then, i noticed that people were getting 'tipped' for fanart, sometimes even charging commission. from what i understand (though, don't quote me on this, i'm not an ip lawyer and this post is not intended as legal advice), this is because the way the concept of fair use is framed under us law makes it easier to monetise fanart than it does fanfiction. maybe this is why visual artists came first on this trend. later still (and more recently) i've noticed fanfic writers, doing the same thing.

to be fully honest, the first thought i had when i saw this trend, considering the fear of god (and his lawyers) that was instilled in me in the past, was: how on earth is this even possible? (i'll come back to that in a bit). the second, though, was: fuck, i wish i had the guts to do that, lol.

because, yeah, i will admit, the idea of getting paid for writing what i love to write does appeal, to a certain extent. i won't lie. dear fanfiction writers who've tried to do that recently: i one hundred per cent get it.

looking back at the last fifteen years, i would say that for me, writing fanfiction has been (in terms of time commitment and energy consumed) the equivalent of having an on-and-off part time job. a job that i have held for one or two years at a time, then quit for a while, before coming back to it when i needed (wanted) it again. i obviously can't realistically give you a number re:the actual total of hours i have spent at this since i started out, but i can give you an idea. recently, i started clocking my hours out of interest and calculated that a chapter of my current long fic takes roughly between one hundred to two hundred hours to produce (and they're around 10,000 words). at that rate, i'm probably working 20 hours a week-ish? sometimes more, sometimes less? something as small as a three-sentence fic (like this for instance), takes roughly two/three hours. i'll be honest, i have cancelled plans to write fic. when i'm working on a long project, i do tend to organise my life to give myself the time to write, so i opt for socialising after work during the week rather than on weekends, as i've found this is when i write best. i won't lie: it is - for me (i know some people write quicker, bless them) - a huge time suck.

so, yeah, i understand, in the capitalist society we live in, wanting to make that time count. our world has unfortunately, repeatedly taught us that time is money and getting more does seem like a nice bonus (as long as you have an audience for your art that's willing to pay, obviously). after all, year after year, i've seen a lot of my friends try and monetise their passions as side hustles, with varying success. at first, glance, i look at the time i spend on writing fanfiction and think: man, i wish i could get a bit back from that too. i couldn't even draw a stick figure to save my life but i assume that the time commitment and energy put into that kind of work is roughly similar for visual fanartists as well. i thus very much understand the sentiment, both with fanart and fanfiction.

additionally, though i appreciate this is a bit tangential, the fact that fanfiction is free, i would argue, hinders its potential to be as representative as it could be. it's a bit sad because on the one hand, the fact that it is free makes it completely accessible to the masses but on the other, it makes fanfiction quite exclusive to rich, privileged people who can afford to spend the time and energy putting content out for free. if i spend this much time writing fanfiction, just because i like it and it makes me happy, it's because my full time job pays me enough to cover my bills. if it didn't, i probably would have to forgo writing and get a proper side gig. if you look at my periods of inactivity on ao3, those also kind of coincide with the times in my life when i had to have more things going on to put food on the table.

so, now, assuming that monetisation is a thing that, as a fic writer, one might want to look at, the next question is: how do you go about monetising it? obviously, the law hasn't changed since the days where we were all terrified of getting sued (although enforcement has been quite lax over the years) so it's more about finding workarounds around the law as it is, rather than actively seeking payment for fanart.

from what i've seen: two main solutions seem to exist.

first, there's the tipping/buy-me-coffee technique. as i understand it, this involves either setting up a page on one of the dedicated websites or just putting up your paypal account link on your tumblr posts. with these links, people can then send you however much money they want (however much money they can afford/think you deserve?) on a one-off basis. they're not actually paying for fanfic because there is no actual exchange of services, it's basically like them giving money to charity, except that charity is a fanfic writer/ fan artist whose work they enjoy.

there are two main issues i see with this: one, legally, i'm not sure how much ground this actually holds. assuming you're quite prolific/successful, if every time you're producing new content, you receive dozens of tips, although you're not actively charging for your fanart, making the argument that your content isn't what these people are actively paying for seems hard. imo, the fact that this method sort of holds is that realistically, you're going to make very little out of this. even if you're really good, you might make what? a couple hundred dollars. now, sure, that's a lot of money for a lot of people but in the grand scheme of things, no one sues anyone for such a low amount. as long as you're not making 'proper' money from it, it is highly unlikely that anyone would come after you.

this being said, the second issue, from my perspective, is that this is not in any way, shape or form, a reliable income. it also does not represent, at all, the cost of the time and investment actually put into said fanfiction (or fanart, i assume). for example: if you're going to tip someone who's worked on something for, say, fifty hours, ten dollars, that's very good of you, but that isn't going to be 'worth' their time. it is only worth their time if tipping is done at as scale, which imo is quite unlikely considering you're putting your content out for free anyway. there are kind souls who will tip you, but not that many, meaning that ultimately, you're not working for free anymore, but you're still working at a huge loss.

additionally, because this income is not even reliable on a monthly/weekly basis, it isn't something that anyone can actually rely on, even if only to fund their coffee habit. it's nice to have, don't get me wrong, but from my perspective, is the legal risk outlined above worth the trouble for the $20/30 tips i'd get every once in a while - not really. such low amounts also don't help diminish the class issue that i talked about earlier. again, if you're going to spend fifty hours on something, you might as well work a minimum wage job - even that will pay you more and will be dependable.

second, there's patreon (and patreon-like sites). here, the income is monthly, people pledge on a subscription basis, which does solve the last point above. it might not be much, but at least it's regular.

the main issue i see with patreon is that it is contingent on the author providing more services on top of what they already provide. in most cases, the author will keep putting their usual content out for free + provide their patreons (depending on tiers) with more content, specifically for them. this, to me, makes this scheme even less appealing than the previous one because a) if i can't provide fanfic to potential patreons (again, you can't sell fanfic), i'm not sure what on earth i could give them (original content? that's not really the same market) and b) that's even more work on my plate. honestly, considering the amount of time i already spend writing fanfic, i have neither the energy nor the willpower to provide extra content for an amount that, regardless, will probably pay me less than a part-time job would. again, you'd have to scale this (i.e. have enough patreons) to make it all worth your while, and even in very big fandoms, even for someone waaaaay more successful than me, i doubt it would be likely.

lastly, as a side note, both of these "methods" are solely accepted if they occur on tumblr/writer's own website, rather than on the writer's ao3 page/fic. there was a post going around explaining why that is (nutshell: it endangers ao3's status as a non-profit archive) but as with all things, i seem to have lost it. [if you do have the link to that post/know what i'm talking about, hit me up and i'll rectify this]. this, regardless, supposes driving traffic from wherever you post your fics towards tumblr/your own website which, again, decreases your chances of scaling this.

so, in the end, where does that leave us?

i think, at this point, we've kind of reached a crossroad. ultimately, i see two ways to look at this:

option one: if you believe that fanfiction writers should be paid for their art, you also probably agree that the methods outlined above, while they do offer some sort of solution, are less than ideal. the ideal solution (for this option) would obviously be to allow fanfiction authors to be properly paid for the publication of their work through 'normal' publishing/self-publishing deals, without the need for a licence from the author (bar - perhaps - the payment of royalties). that would create a proper 'market' for fanfiction, treating it as any other form of writing/art form. it would mean a complete overhaul of the laws currently in place, but why not? ultimately, in a democracy, laws are meant to be changeable.

this being said, though, while my personal knee jerk reaction would be to shout 'hurray!' at this solution, i do not actually think i want this. or, maybe, only part of me does. the part of me who has been writing fanfiction for free for fifteen years is like 'hey, yay, maybe i could get paid!'. but then, there is another part of me that would like, maybe, one day, to write more original fiction (i already do a bit, but not much). that part of me is feels frankly a bit icky about giving up her ip rights.

would i be comfortable with people writing fanfiction of my original work? hell yes. that would be the dream. imagine having your own ao3 fandom, omg. however, would i be comfortable with people profiting from writing fanfiction of my work? honestly, i'm not sure. to me, the answer to that is: it depends (how much time investment was put in? how original the concept is? etc.) which, in fact, kind of brings us back to the current concept of licensing. and yes, maybe the current frame imposed by copyright law has also shaped the way i view the concept of property, and maybe i should be more of a communist, free-for-all kind of person, but unfortunately, i'm not that revolutionary.

also, and slightly tangentially, i find it interesting how profiting from fanficition/fanart is seen as more acceptable i certain fandoms rather than in others. taking the hp fandom for instance, even prior to jkr expressing her views on transgender rights, i often read things like: 'ah, she's so rich anyway, she doesn't need the money.' now, that argument has not only gained traction but is also reinforced by: 'ah, she's the devil and i don't want to fund her. it'd rather give my money to fanfic authors/buy things on etsy.'

while i completely understand the sentiment and do not, in any way, shape or form, support jkr's views, i do find that argument quite problematic. if you set the precedent that because someone is too rich, or because they've expressed views you disagree with, you don't believe that they should be entitled to their own intellectual property rights, i do wonder: where does this stop? this being justified for jkr could lead to all sorts of small artists seeing other people stealing/profiting from their original work without authorisation. 'i don't pay you 'cause i disagree with you,' would then act as a justification, with i find highly unfair. the fact of the matter is: jkr created hp. knowing that, the choice of buying hp products, regardless of her opinions is completely and entirely yours, but buying the same stuff unlicensed, from people who are infringing on her copyrights seems, to me, very problematic as this could potentially be scaled to all artists. either we overhaul the entire copyright system or we don't, but making special cases is dangerous, in my humble opinion.

option two: we choose to preserve copyright law as it is, for the reasons outlined above. this means that most people will not get paid for the content they put out and that the few that do will operate on a very tight, legal rope, and work for tips that are a 'nice bonus' but not a proper pay. this sort of perpetuates the idea that fanfiction is 'less than' other art forms, because in our capitalist society, things that don't generate money (things often made by women, may i add) are not seen as being as valuable as things that do.

for me, personally, while getting paid to write fanfiction sounds lovely (and makes my bank account purr) in theory, i think i side to preserve the current system. as an artist, i think that intellectual property protects us and our concepts from being ripped off by others, including by big companies who might find it handy to steal a design, a quote, anything, without proper remuneration. this is even more important for smaller artists who wouldn't necessarily have the means to defend their craft otherwise.

this being said, i do appreciate that it depends on why you're writing fanfiction. i think that topic probably deserves a whole different post in its own right but ultimately, most people write fanfic because it's fun. we know it's for fun, and not for profit. and if that's the case, then we're okay to receive compliments, reblogs and sometimes, for some people a little bit of an awkward tip for our work. for me, fanfic has been a space to make friends, to get feedback, to learn and to experiment without the pressure of money being involved. that's why i don't particularly mind doing it for free, and wouldn't even bother setting up a patreon or tip-me jar. i love being able to do it just for the enjoyment of myself and my five followers (lol), without worrying about scaling it, or making it profitable. not every part of our lives, not every passion has to be profitable. as we say in ireland, you do it 'for the craic' and nothing else.

this, though, as i already said, also depends on your means and level of privilege. to me, writing for free is fantastic and a bloody relief - it means being able to do exactly what i want. original fiction writing is full of rules, and editors, and publishers. in fanfic, i can write whatever i feel like, and i'm willing to forgo a salary in exchange of that freedom. again, i have a full time job that covers my bills. this does mean, though, that i don't have as much time to dedicate to writing as i would like to.

and also, the thing is: i'm a small author. i happily write in my own little niche. bar that one comment, it is highly unlikely that anyone would actually want to pay me (or even tip me) for my content. but when you look at very successful people, like the author of all the young dudes, i could see how they'd want to get paid for their art, and why they'd feel differently.

bottom line for me is: the flaws of the current systems of remuneration combined with my strong belief in copyright law as a means to protect small, original creators, means that i don't really think it would be right for me to get paid for fanfic, even if i was the kind of person who had the market for it. whilst it would be nice, this very long rant has, hopefully, explained why.

[monsieur-hadrien]

Quarantine Harry Potter Fanfiction *READING LIST*

I’ve spent the past months reading copious amounts of fanfiction and now my amount of AO3 bookmarks is absurd. I really need to share these because if I don’t I think I might implode. Drarry-centric but not all!

These are in no particular order nor is there a particular time frame that these were all posted. I have a little bit of everything in here just you wait.

On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads by Enigmaris 

56 Chapters, 247k Words, Complete, no slash, T Rating

Marvel, Norse Mythology, Harry Potter Crossover

TW: Past Abandonment

Harry finds out that his dad is alive, has been the whole time. Instead of being overjoyed, Harry's disgusted. His dad left earth and abandoned his friends. Every painful thing he's ever gone through can be traced back to one man. Now Harry's got super strength he can't control and an almost unnecessary amount of magical power. His dad might be living it up with the Avengers now but not for long. With the help of his friends, Harry comes up with a plan for revenge. Get ready Avengers, Harry's out to punch a god.

We’re starting off strong with a Marvel crossover fanfic wow. Who knew that crossovers could be done tastefully as 2013 Wattpad kind of ruined it for us. However, this fic changed my mind! This fic is funny as fuck and is just a goodass time. I love a good multi-chapter fic (as you’ll soon see) and this one is a showstopper.

The Man Who Lived by sebastianL

42 Chapters, 254k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Deptictions of Violence

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.

With all of the Black Lives Matter protests happening right now, I think that this fic is super relevant. Draco has moved to New York City and is working as a receptionist at a tattoo shop and a mentor for inner city kids, but he accidentally gets forced to work out his differences with Harry, who at this point hates his guts. This fic is pretty serious, tackling themes of mental health, suicide, and police brutality. Every OC in this story is completely lovable and I cried my eyes out many times. When people ask me for a fic reccomendation this is the one I give people. Dare I say that this is my all-time favorite fic.

Warm Bodies by Betty_Hazel

Work in Progress, 37 Chapters as of 6/12/2020, 108k Words, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: D/s Dynamics, Graphic Porn, Dubious Relationship with Food

Draco Malfoy has spent his whole life wanting to go down on his knees for other men, and that's by far the least of the depraved things he fantasises about. He's wanted it all for so long that he's stopped believing that there might be someone out there who might be able to give it all to him; it comes as something of a surprise to find that maybe Harry Potter can, and that maybe Harry's looking for something too.

ALRIGHT MY PORN LOVERS THIS ONE IS FOR YOU! Don’t lie I know you’re horny. Somehow this fic is so fucking gorgeous and sweet yet so sinfully hot. It’s literally two boys who have never felt like their emotional needs have been satisfied learning to help and love each other like how much more wholesome does it get. I mean it’s all fine and wholesome until you get to the kinky sex which is WONDERFULLY WRITTEN MIGHT I ADD! I always say that if porn can make you feel something other than just horny, you’ve found a winner, and this story does just that.

Definitely check all the tags and I mean all the tags before you read this, but this is definitely one of my favorite porn with plot stories.

Running On Air by eleventy7

17 Chapters, 75k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, T Rating

TW: No Archive Warnings

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. 

Might I just say that classics are considered classics for a reason. This is one of those stories that has the vibe of high school summer after senior year where all you do is try to escape reality and figure out your place in the world. While the plot is wonderful and the characters are great, I think what shines the brightest from this story is the writing style. It’s so enchanting and poetic with the best one-liners that make your heart hurt. On my AO3 bookmark i captioned it, “This just ripped my soul in half and restitched it together again,” and I still stand by that.

Lokison (Series) and How To Train Your Godling (Series) by sifsshadowheart

Main Story (Lokison): 33 Chapters, 244k Words, Completed, Harry/Various Characters, E Rating

14 Spinoffs/ Sequel Stories, Completed, Harry/Various, Various Ratings

Norse Mythology, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Various Fandoms Crossover

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Underage Sex, Spiralling Mental Health

James and Lily Potter had a secret, one which led to Thanatos saving young Harry from a dreary life with the Dursleys and changed the face of the Second British Wizarding War before it ever began.

This story feels much more like a 12 season television show than a two hour movie if you know what I mean. The plot is pretty slow going but the character development and interation makes it worth it. The story blends the lore and events of the HP and PJO to make a completely new story without making it feel like a goddamn recap. The reader follows Harry from when he’s young all the way into adulthood and it’s a fun time to watch him grow as a character and bond with his parental figures. Also some of the spinoffs are really wild and I never would have thought of the pairings but they just work somehow?? My personal favorite spinoff is the Pirates of Caribbean/Calypso and Leo arc like HELLO?! hot pirates. The total word count of the two series is 465k so beware it takes a hot second to chug through this one.

This Worship of an Extinct Fire by Lomonaaeren

Oneshot, 30k Words, Draco/Harry, M Rating

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Deppression

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy has planned for nearly six months how to take down Thomas Linwood, a man who has discovered the secret of converting wizard bodies to pure magic. He was prepared for anything--except the discovery of the missing Harry Potter in Linwood's compound.

This one, I don’t know how it’s not considered a classic. I’ve seen it floating around on drarry tumblr and wow is it good. I especially like the detailed magic system and mechanics that Draco is investigating. How the author managed to have so much detailed and gracefully planned out backstory in 30k words is beyond me. Also gentle Dracoo Malfoy is my favorite Draco Malfoy :) absolute angel mode.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by LLAP15 and Writcraft

Oneshot, 66k Words, Draco/Harry, Past Sirius/James, E Rating

TW: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light D/s Dynamics, References to Cancer, References to HIV/AIDS

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

This fic is, in every sense, a masterpiece. Especially for pride month, the story surrounding LGBTQIA+ activism, the AIDS Epidemic of the 80s, and the gentrification of historically queer communities is one that should be read by everyone. Every single place, OC, and historic event has real world ties and is historically accurate, making this fic even more enchanting. Everything about this fic is graceful and slow burning I can’t help but fall in love with it. I’ve only seen this fic once on HP tumblr, but I feel like it should be considered a classic as it is truly a moving piece. This fic is one of the biggest reasons why I became so enthralled with LGBT history and am writing a fic that takes place in a wizarding version of the AIDS epidemic.

Sensitive Touch by Raserwolf

45 Chapters, 194k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Racism and Racial Slurs, Homophobic Slurs, Ablism and Ablist Slurs, Rape and Sexual Assault, Sensory Overloads and Mental Breakdowns, Extreme Bullying and Hate Crime, Past Abuse, Anxiety Disorders, PTSD wow this is a long list

When Draco Malfoy encounters a struggling and frustrated Harry desperately trying to tie his shoes after a meltdown in the Great Hall, his curiosity regarding the incident leads him to seek the help of the two people closest to Harry: Ron and Hermione.

After even they are shocked to hear the extent of Harry's issues, though Hermione had her suspicions, he discovers more about the man than he ever thought he knew before.

As a Neurotypical, I found this fic to be absolutely wonderful. I don’t know much about the typical traits of those who are one the autism spectrum and how they affect their everyday lives, but from what I was reading in the comments from those who are on the spectrum or who have family who are, this fic was pretty accurate and realistic. Harry, who lives with aspergers, goes without a known diagnosis until 8th year and it’s just heightened by his PTSD and anxiety and ugh I just want to hug the boy. The story follows Harry and Draco and the rest of the 8th year gang through the year and has multiple arcs in which the wizarding world are just dumbass bitches who can’t fucking seem to accept people for who they are. Not only is Harry on the spectrum but he’s also Desi with a purpose and not just mentioned and forgotten which is wonderful. The boys go through a lot of trauma in the story but there’s also a lot of teeth-rotting fluff that I live for. This is one of the fics that I have read and reread because I love it so much.

This definitely is not my full list I have a ton more stories in my bookmarks if you are curious. I’ll probably post a part two to this just cause I have so much and read so often. These, however, are definitely the biggest highlights.

[purplellamanator]

Can I also send you some for the readers ask 🙈 6, 16, 31, 34, 41 pretty please! ✨

Omg of course 💜 thanks for sending me some 🥰

6. Do you prefer long fics or short fics?

I absolutely love both of course 🥰 but probably short ones- like I swear I have a oneshot addiction. And I’m sure we all know the kind where they are so long that it’s like you read an entire book by the end of it and omg if they are AU’s 😍

It’s also nice with this because you don’t have to wait for updates which- I am guilty of making people do as well so sorry 🙏 even as a writer with my own stuff I tend to forget things after awhile of not working on a fic or reading a certain story I was eagerly waiting for an update on and will have to go over the entire story again, which isn’t always a bad thing cause obviously I’m reading it because I enjoy it 😂

16. Name a fic that made you cry (or come close).

So I actually rarely read angst. Like it’s too much for my already sad little heart 😂 not that I cry easily because I don’t, I just don’t really seek out sad stories. But especially with DCMK I tend to stick with the lighthearted fics with some humor or misunderstandings. I know I’ve cried over a fic before and I for the life of me can’t remember what it was called. It was a Hunger Games AU fic tho and it had been written so well and took place during a World War. I really wish I could remember what it was called tho so I could give that author the credit she deserved cause I don’t cry easily 👏

31. Do people know that you read fanfiction?

They do not! I think my sister might know but it’s not something I actively kept from her. I don’t care for anybody else to know though. People tend to be judgy around and reading fanfic kind of felt like my time- if that makes sense. That was my unwind time to sit down and just chill with no one to bug me usually when I’m laying down for bed.

34. Name a common type of fic that you cannot stand.

Oh jeez, this is not to make anyone feel bad if they enjoy reading or writing these, but I do not do song fics or whatever they are called. I literally never understood what the point of putting lyrics in the middle of your story did for it. I just felt it was unnecessary and I usually won’t read them.

41. Name a fic that has a perfect ending.

So unless it’s a oneshot, most stories I follow I think are incomplete for the most part. That one dcmk fic Lawyers Problem was real nice from start to finish as well as that one Kaachako fic by Emeraldwaves. I have to look up the name of the story but you’ve probably read it- if not anything by her is great and she is here on tumblr too. But the fic was about athlete Bakugou and dancer Uraraka and as a punishment Bakugou has to take dance lessons from Uraraka. Amazing fic 👌