#that it’s no longer valid to call it a fanfiction without having to explain three hours worth of how the universe got to this point!!!!!

[irlwakko]

me explaining that when published authors take their fanfiction, change the names, and try to say it’s an original work it’s cringe and dumb, but when I do it I’m actually the most original story creator ever and also a genius

[rechoired]

A problem with the Tales Of Arcadia community

First and foremost, I’d like to ask anyone taking the time to read this to please read the post all the way through before commenting on the matter. There is a lot of dirty laundry to unpack here, and some points will be building off previous ones.

I’ll get right to the point. Most everybody in the Tales of Arcadia fandom will have heard of the blog imthegingerninja / ginger-le-gay. She is one of the most well-known ToA-centric blogs, after all. (If you’re wanting to avoid her on Twitter as well, her account is Margaret Bell, or @The_Book_Bell.)

This is your PSA, TOA fandom: Ginger is a toxic, manipulative person.

This is not a claim I like to make lightly, but it’s long overdue that this issue is properly brought up within the fandom. 

I’ve seen so many people wonder why the Tales of Arcadia fandom is so small. Well, I and many others very strongly believe that Ginger is one of the main reasons for that, if not the main one. To make matters easier, I’ve tried to break this down into some main points. So let’s take a look at how Ginger falls under this category.

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT look at this post as an excuse to harass Ginger or any other blog mentioned here. This sort of behavior is NOT acceptable. The point of this post is to educate those who may not know the extent of her harrowing behavior, nothing more.

1. Dishonesty and Death Threats

[EDIT: Shortly after this post went up, she started blatantly lying about me to try to cover for herself. You can see those lies being easily disproven here]

Ginger has been kicked from at least three Tales of Arcadia servers, all for similar reasons of violence. While I cannot provide screenshots as I am no longer part of the servers they were in, there are multiple witnesses that can verify the disgusting behavior she engaged in. The one I saw specifically was her saying that certain members of the fandom should be gathered up and hunted for sport, among other gross things. (Elaboration of why can be found in point 3, though it still doesn’t excuse this kind of talk)

Here is some points made by another blog that also sums up similar issues with Ginger, though:

While there were multiple instances of her inciting violence towards others, this is unfortunately one topic I cannot provide specific screenshots for at this time. But I will add them in as I can find them. That being said, I want to move to the dishonesty, something I do have a screenshot for.

While you could argue that people sometimes notice the similar things, this is far too close together to be considered an “original find”. The reblog button is there for a reason, but she instead decides to steal the OP’s premise and present it as her own original thought.

There have been a couple other blogs that have confirmed that their theories and analysis posts were often stolen and presented as Ginger’s own as well, to the point where they stopped bothering even making such posts, as the above blog points out. (Out of respect for their privacy, I will not be naming these blogs. Say what you will about that possibly weakening my point, but if she’s willing to so blatantly steal from that person shown above, it shouldn’t surprise you that she’s so willing to do it to others.)

Theory-making and analysis posts aren’t as solidly “original content” as a piece of art or fanfiction, sure, but it’s still common fandom courtesy to give credit where it’s due. Ginger has intentionally avoided extending that courtesy far too many times.

2. Hypocrisy

Most of this is going to be about past Merlin vs. Morgana drama, though there are also words to be said for the incredibly shaky relationships she forms with “friends”.

But first let’s talk about those wizards.

This is a topic I’ve tried to approach with Ginger before, but she borderline refused to acknowledge any of the points I was trying to make, and when she did, I don’t know if I just wasn’t being clear or what, but it honestly looked as though she was purposefully trying to misunderstand what I was saying in her bizarre responses. (To be fair, I was sending messages out of anger because she vagueposted about a blog I admired, calling them a “disgusting creep” because of them simply saying they’d hoped Jim and Merlin would be able to actually bond at some point... Not really a justifiable reaction to such a harmless thought, in my opinion. But my point is, I recognize that the circumstances may have clouded my ability to vocalize my thoughts clearly.)

That aside, we should first acknowledge this post Ginger made to save face after having gotten some backlash about hate-train related things (Side note: I couldn’t find the original post, so this is a screenshot I got from someone else. I did not add the writing. The text underneath it should still be slightly readable, I hope.):

Taken at face value, this is a very reasonable post. I think everybody would and should be able to agree on it. Hate-meme him for fun, sure, but don’t actually harass or insult others over a fictional character. Simple, right?

Apparently not, because Ginger’s done loads of that to others. Probably why the “LOL” was added in, I bet.

This post confused me. First of all, exploring dark topics (”angst”, as you put it) has never been a rare occurrence, every fandom has that content, most in heavy abundance. I’ve noticed no staggering difference in volume of this fandom compared to others I’ve been in. People enjoy angst not because they think the character “deserves to be in pain”, they enjoy a fictional blow to their own emotions. There’s lots of different reasons people like angst, but it’s barely ever been out of a genuine hate for whatever character’s the focus, from all the things I’ve seen. Your own friends have indulged in Jim angst and body horror posts before, does that mean you think they’re awful people? I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain something like this.

Also, way to basically admit you think all Merlin stans get off on child torture. So much for “If you like Merlin as a character, you’re valid”, am I right? God, what a mess of a post. (It’s been very recently deleted, which makes me wonder if she got more backlash on it, but just... wow.)

Let’s look at another one.

Again. Vagueposting about someone specific, I’d wager, since most of the people I’ve seen comment on this topic either think both characters are morally gray, or hate both. 

But of course, when it comes to Morgana, suddenly excusing bad behavior can be justified. Ginger can call someone a disgusting creep because they want a familial bond between Jim and Merlin, that’s just wrong, but pushing the Mom-gana narrative with the genocidal abuser and Toby is completely fine, folks.

(Note: I would like to point out that I really don’t care about what theories and hopes people have for Morgana. You should be allowed to love that character in any way you want, same as I would say for Merlin. My issue with these examples is the completely brazen hypocrisy in which these two characters are treated. You’re obviously allowed to love Morgana without consequence, but the same should be said for any character of the show, and yet it’s not.)

The most obvious instance of this double-standard is well observable here, I believe: 

... I think this mostly speaks for itself. Sorry, but this is very blatantly trying to excuse Morgana’s actions, here.

Oh hey, remember that post about Ginger saying that liking Merlin must mean you want to see Jim in horrible pain? 

Say anything similar about her with Morgana, and suddenly she takes issue with this line of reasoning! 

I’m sorry, but if you can’t take this sort of thing, then you shouldn’t be dishing it out. One of your own friends is still getting hate over the simple fact of liking Merlin, and all this mentality is exactly why.

Let’s look at one more.

Fun fact! Morgana horrifically abused somebody for centuries, tried to kill multiple kids, took horrible advantage of Claire (probably traumatized her), and canonically wanted to genocide humanity, not to mention all the OTHER murders she's committed, both directly and indirectly.

But somehow pointing any of this out “doesn’t count”. This is why the fandom keeps saying more and more things like this: 

And this:

I could be going through her constant hating on Merlin and people who like Merlin for days straight, but I hope you all get the idea by now.

Again, I would like to just reiterate: You can like whatever character you want for whatever reason you want. The problem with this case is the hypocrisy and mistreatment of others, not your taste in characters.

Now interestingly enough, she’s lately been singing a different tune about the guy, switching from the “I hate Merlin I hope he dies!!!” mentality to “Oh he should get a redemption arc too :)” sort of thing.

I’m highly convinced that the only reasons for this “change of heart” is because of the constant backlash she was getting for the obnoxious amount of hate posts being thrown around all the time, but also because Aaron Waltke keeps tabs on the fandom more lately, and has spoken himself about Merlin not being a villain.

I could go on about this point forever, but I think I’ll just leave the Merlin topic with this post going through the hypocrisy of the Merlin Hate Train. In fact, here’s two just for fun.

Now onto more real-world focused areas of hypocrisy. One such instance can be found in Ginger’s Janus Disorder server. 

Just take a look at this post.

While the offender in this case isn’t Ginger specifically, it still takes place in her server, and she made no moves to enforce her “No discourse” rule. All over... what? A random kudos on a fanfiction that’s not even about anything controversial since all characters involved are adults? I immensely don’t understand the point of why this ever had to be an issue, or why nobody spoke up about how ridiculous this is.

I’d also like to point out a certain user called firecat17. For some quick context, waaay back in the Kung Fu Panda fandom (around 2018), this user had been harassing people and saying incredibly vile things, a person of which Ginger had a bit of a feud, but firecat’s anon threats had gotten to the point where Ginger ended up having to block their IP. 

Obviously, the user firecat was the one in the wrong, here. (Also, the irony in this comment is through the roof...)

Interesting point there, Ginger. Sure would be nice if you practiced what you preached.

Why am I bringing this random old drama up, you may ask? Well, it just strikes me as strange that someone who was so vile to Ginger is suddenly on her okay-list again, sending her asks and getting casual responses as if nothing ever happened.

To be fair, there is the possibility that they worked out their differences in private. But given the severity of the kinds of words being exchanged, I would still find that rather suspicious.

When someone who’s said things so vile can be so easily forgiven, yet something as harmless as leaving a kudos on some random fanfiction is considered grounds for harassment, it’s obvious there’s no stability or room for trust among this group of people. Unsurprising when there’s been several instances of this ���friend group” turning on each other.

If you think you’re somehow different, that your “friendship” with Ginger or the others is more valued than that, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble but it’s likely not true. She’d throw you under the bus at the hint of you doing something she deems problematic, as it’s happened to multiple blogs before you.

3. Demonization of and insensitivity towards s*xual abuse victims

(This topic is one that’s hard for me to talk about, being a victim of CSA myself, so I’ve gathered some different sources to do most of the main talking for me. I tried to form more commentary on this myself, but I get too emotionally charged in my responses, and I don’t want that to cloud any reader’s perception of what I’m trying to communicate here, so I’ll try to keep most of my comments brief on this one.)

One thing recently brought to my attention about Ginger and her squad that especially bothers me is their rashness in labeling people p*dophiles and p*do apologists. If these claims were true, then I wouldn’t have a problem with it.

But these people are accusing others of these horrible things and threatening them on the sole basis of fictional content.

Now before you fly off the handle at me, let me be very clear: I absolutely understand that there are gross people out there who use the “It’s all just fiction” argument to hide their actual, pr*datory behaviors. (We’ve all probably seen at least one or two neckbeard memes of that caliber)

But like it or not, exploring traumatic themes through a fictional lens is something that has been studied and proven to be a genuine coping mechanism for some. It’s not something that works for me, but I knew a few people from past therapy groups that it worked surprisingly well for. Bringing a trauma into a controlled environment and processing it through fictional means can and does help some victims deal with what they went through. 

It’s important to understand that not everyone processes their experience in the same neat, little boxes you have laid out as the only “acceptable” ways of coping. Trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy are commonly used by victims, and it does help some people, whether you like it or not.

I’m already dragging this on too much, so here are some sources for better-worded information on the topic (Warning: Most of these deal with highly sensitive themes such as gun violence and s*xual abuse.)

Source 1 - Source 2 - Source 3 - Source 4 - Source 5 (pages 61 onward, specifically) - Source 6 - Source 7 - Source 8 - Source 9 - Source 10 (and believe me, if those all don’t satisfy you, I can easily supply more.)

And this quote from source 9 I think sums it up best:

“Fiction works differently. My imagination gives me a framework to process the grief and terror and the consequences, even when I myself have not found any resolution. It allows me to enter my own traumatic experiences sideways and linger inside them, if I know I can give them to characters who might be lucky enough to find the antidote: love, connection, community, family. In other words, I can enter — and exit — the trauma loop through stories that are not exactly the same as mine.

This goes for the reader also. Recent studies periodically assure us that stories — literary fiction, hardcover books, even the simple act of reading — promote empathy. We rarely have identical experiences, so fiction is how we practice linking our similar or parallel realities so we can feel them. This seems particularly useful in our current society, where we are all so separated, and are working so hard to block the violence that keeps happening to us from our minds.

Fiction connects us, and it can also contribute to our healing. When we see ourselves in worlds we don’t live in, like The Handmaid’s Tale or The Color Purple, sometimes, that very different violence helps us finally process our own. Because as much as our memoirs and testimonies are brave and validating, fiction does not just mirror our truths so they are safe to experience; it also helps us endure the aftermath. Because long after the immediate experience is over, survival struggles onward, in every moment of our daily lives.”

While most professionals have in the past advised that victims keep their trauma-related works more private, to only show it to your trusted friends or family, the fast-growing use of the internet has led more people to sharing it in an online platform, which is not unexpected behavior.

I unfortunately don’t have the screenshot of the original post, but there was a post made some time back literally telling a fandom member to go and hang themselves over this garbage. A survivor of s*xual abuse, no less. And to top that off, one of Ginger’s squad @emmy-puff commented in support of that violent post, as well as blatantly misgendering the target of it. While, again, I was unable to get screenshots, there are multiple witnesses to this instance, one Anonymous even having called them out on it back when it happened. (I suspect that Emmy deleted that answer due to how bad it made them look.) If anybody reading this has screenshots of the initial post or the ask that came of it, please feel free to share.

I don’t care who you are or who you’re talking about, if you use misgendering someone as a way to hurt them, then you are an insult to the trans community. That is an awful thing to do, and you lose so much credibility if that’s the only thing you can fall back on when getting in a fight with someone. While this post isn’t about Emmy specifically, this is exactly the kind of hateful rhetoric that’s being encouraged in the environment Ginger’s made.

Another thing I would like to point out on this matter is an instance that happened in the ToA fandom a couple years back. I, again, don’t have screenshots available (I believe the original post ended up deleted) but the post in question caused enough of a fuss that I’m sure a few people must remember it... 

A while back, there was an artist that posted uncensored, untagged r*pe art of Aaarrrgghh, Gunmar, and Jim in the main Trollhunters tag. As you can imagine, this infuriated many people. Many of which are among the list of those who’ve been labeled “p*do apologists”. Almost the very minute that post showed up in the tag with no trigger warnings of any kind, the fandom immediately got on OP’s tail about it, because they all shared that basic understanding of “This is a traumatizing subject for many people and they should have the ability to avoid it”. If the people you’ve labelled as pr*dator supporters were really as awful as you say they are, they would’ve jumped to that person’s defense, too. But they were completely against OP’s horrible lack of consideration of survivors, right alongside the rest of the fandom.

Am I saying you have to like trauma fiction? Absolutely not. Are there people that make trauma fiction that are actual pr*dators? I’m sure there are. But those people would be that way whether trauma fiction was out there or not. Gross people have existed and will always exist regardless of what media is out there.

I deeply understand the controversy, uncertainty, and stress that surrounds this topic, I promise you, I do. But the fact of the matter is, some people actually do use trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy as a way of coping, as has been observed in people even from ages as young as 5. To say otherwise is blatantly untrue. This isn’t a matter of opinion or morals, this is plain, studied facts that you cannot change about human psychology.

Nobody should ever have to go through something as horrible as s*xual abuse of any kind, and I know how deeply upsetting it can be to see certain images or stories with those themes in play. Those users with a sense of decency and understanding for fellow victims will tag their posts with the appropriate warnings. After that, it’s up to you to filter out what you don’t want to see. You curate your own internet experience, and it’s just plain irrational to try and harass everyone into conforming to your rules. While it’s an 18+ blog’s job to make sure to tag and label their content appropriately, it is your job to block the things you don’t want to see, whether you’re an adult or a minor. It is YOUR job to blacklist content that you know will upset you, because it is always going to exist on the internet, and any internet user needs to know and understand that. Multiple times I’d seen people going off about posts that were already appropriately trigger-tagged. If you don’t have those upsetting tags blacklisted by now, then the fault is mostly on you in that kind of case, not the OP.

Before I end this topic off, just one more example of blatant disrespect towards victims:

I’m sorry, but the absolute nerve of comparing some random fictional character you’re petty over to an actual pr*dator who’s terribly hurt real children is just awful. Imagine how insulted one of Onion’s victims would be if they saw that. Lord.

Ginger claims to care about victims, but she’s made it abundantly clear that she only cares about those that behave the way she think a victim should.

4. Ableism 

I’m going to just show a couple posts here and let them mostly speak for themselves. 

Just... my God. You looked at the definition of psychopath and decided that was enough to give you qualification to speak like this about it? Do you realize the extensive work and study of human psychology goes into the diagnosis and understandings of psychopathy? Not to mention, you just admit to thinking people deserve hate because of a mental disorder they legitimately have no control over? I’m sorry, but that is just cruel. Demonization of the mentally ill is not cute or funny. Next.

While I’m still annoyed with Emmy’s transphobic treatment of another user mentioned earlier, they make a very solid point in this instance. (The first post they referenced has since been deleted, but here’s the second one speaking out against the ableism.) I feel I don’t need to add much to this, as these points have already been argued very well by users better qualified to speak on the subject than I.

5. Manipulation tactics

This part is more observations of two kinds of abuse tactics Ginger appears to demonstrate, using the above as points of reference. 

First, there’s DARVO.

Then, less formally, there’s this good point about online cult mentality.

Before you say anything, obviously I don’t think Ginger thinks of herself as some sort of deity. While it could be argued that she considers herself a point of authority within the TOA fandom maybe, I haven’t seen enough of this to say for sure how far that goes. So that point can be ignored, because it mostly doesn’t apply in this case. (The “Dictating parts of your online life” might also not apply, but I can’t say for sure as I haven’t gotten any confirmation of that sort of thing in Ginger’s group.)

But there are grains of truth in the other four points, especially that last one. Plain and simple, she’s made people afraid to speak their minds about even harmless things such as character analysis.

Ginger is someone who can’t seem to comprehend different viewpoints and life experiences. She’s extremely unsympathetic towards people she doesn’t understand, as can be observed in above examples. Assuming malicious intent from everybody you can’t understand is a dangerous and hurtful mindset to have, for both you and those who you unnecessarily scorn.

There are a few outcomes I’ve speculated should she ever come to see this post.

1. She will ignore this post completely, pretending as if it doesn’t exist

2. She will dismiss me as being some sort of horrible person, a p*do apologist or something of the sort (despite being a victim of that myself, clearly she doesn’t care about who’s actually been hurt by real p*dos or not if they don’t conform to her narrow worldview), and claim nothing I’ve said bears any meaning, despite the extensive evidence I’ve provided.

3. She will get people to try and attack me. 

4. She will actually address these points in a tactful, mature, and serious manner instead of her usual act of trying to dismiss everything at the slightest hint of non-conformity. (The least likely outcome, but one can dream.)

I could add to this post all day, but it’s long enough as it is and my focus was on getting the main points out of the way. I understand that I lack some of the receipts necessary to back myself up in a few parts, but I know that many other fans have bared witness to those things, so I know there will be at least some people who’ll know what I speak of is true, and that’s good enough for me.

That being said, if anybody has screenshots of the instances I wasn’t able to provide for, it would be greatly appreciated if you could add them into the conversation.

!!!-If you have screenshots, but are too uncomfortable to get involved in this, then you can private-message them to me and I would be grateful and more than happy to add them in while keeping you completely anonymous.-!!!

(I've removed the section with all the tags, as I recognize it was probably going overboard. My goal was just to spread information, not to try and involve those tagged, but I understand how that may have gotten lost in translation and made people uncomfortable. Also, it apparently was showing up multiple times in people’s notifications when I only tagged people twice, so I’m not sure why that glitch happened, but I apologize for that annoyance as well.)

Now, to end us off, my responses to questions or angry comments I’m probably going to get:

You don’t even have all the evidence! How are we to know you’re not just lying about some of this?

Admittedly, I don’t have as much screenshot proof as I would like, that’s true. But for most of the instances I couldn’t provide for, there were other witnesses to her bad behavior. I don’t really have the need to lie when there’s already a lot of knowledge out there of the bad stuff she has done. Nor do I really have the emotional investment in this fandom anymore to lie for the pointless reason of causing drama.

Why post this on a throwaway account if you think people are on your side?

I just don’t really want my main blog associated with TOA anymore, to be frank.

You tagged a bunch of people, so you must be trying to get them to attack Ginger!

No. I tagged a bunch of people because I think this information should be heard on a wider scale, considering the position Ginger has in the fandom. I don’t want her or anybody else to be attacked, but her negative impact on this fandom deserves to be acknowledged.

Again, I don’t think Ginger or any of the others deserve harassment or cyberbullying or anything of that manner, that’s kind of what this whole post is against. And it just hurts the situation more than it helps it. What bothers me is how she’s never apologized for or even once acknowledged the gross way she’s treated people. While she might be more low-key about it now, she still treats people who don’t deserve it like garbage. There are still several people upset about the damage she’s caused to this fandom, rightfully so. I wouldn’t be so loud about making this post if I didn’t think it was something worth drawing attention to. 

Thank you for reading.

[curtisandlewis]

ML Relationship through the Perspective of a Fanfiction Writer

Listen to the Spotify playlist I made as an auditory companion

For their anniversary I would like to discuss from my perspective as a writer of fanfiction the many layers of ML’s relationship

Onions have layers as well as cake! I learned that from Jerry’s friend Eddie Murphy.

We all know how much the boys love cake…

Layer One Partnership

I wouldn’t be writing fanfiction about two guys who worked at a gas station. Their act is the reason we know about them and celebrate them today. What all of America saw was two men equally skilled at their art (though many were too stupid to realize), both in awe and each other’s biggest fan. What was not presented to the public was the communication it took to pull off their act. It took negotiation to set up a gag and trust as well as the sense to know when not to push when doing a stunt. Their natural rhythm made adlibs come off better than scripted material. They were so attuned to one another they could do the impossible.

Layer Two Friendship

Dean and Jerry most likely met in 1942 that’s four years of friendship before they ever were on stage together. They hung out, had more fun than anyone, and were emotionally supportive of the other. A subset of this aspect is when they act like boys. Wrestling each other to the ground, play fighting, playing football in the hall in nothing but your boxer shorts, and innocent kisses are all the actions of boys not yet taught the rules of manhood. In my writing I sometimes explore the idea of them having a romantic friendship. More than friends, less than lovers. Their relationship isn’t physical and neither has a sexual attraction but are deeply attracted to each other emotionally. This love can be (and Jerry often has!) compared to romantic love. They are affectionate sometimes in the form of kisses but that’s only to communicate their strong emotions for the other.

Layer Three Family

Some people are uncomfortable with them having a romantic friendship. What part of it was a LOVE STORY do you not understand? Often these people will say they loved each other like BROTHERS. In the past I have compared them to brothers but I meant only in the sense that they have a family-like bond. Brothers are protective in this “no one beats the shit out of my brother but me” kind of way. No real life brother relationship I know of is anything like Dean and Jerry. I do, however, get strong father/son vibes from them. Dean is protective, caring, gives Jerry discipline when he needs it, and loves him without condition. It’s important to note these are all things Jerry’s biological father didn’t provide.

Layer Four Marriage

Now we’re getting deep. When I talk about their marriage I don’t mean romantic love or a sexual relationship. I’m speaking strictly of their domesticity. Their act made it so they had to live on the road, sharing hotel rooms and a bed in the early days. As Jerry once said, LIVING AND LOVING TOGETHER. It’s canon that Dean moved in with Jerry more than once. They know what the other is like in a domestic situation. Jerry knows that Dean cuts corners when doing house work and can be a slob. Dean thinks Jerry should relax and not be so fussy. They learned to accept the other’s irritating quirks and create a harmonious environment where they can enjoy each other’s company. Dean and Jerry have to work together to (Jerry would love this analogy!) nurture their baby (their act). This requires...you guessed it! COMMUNICATION. When they communicate and I mean TALK, exchange words and make hard decisions, nothing can break them. In real life their little spats were like the arguments that married people have. In my fiction when they can no longer communicate what they want or need that’s the beginning of the end.

Layer Five Dom/sub

I’m not talking about in a sexual relationship or even within them practicing an alternative lifestyle. When Dean is dominant over Jerry it makes him feel owned. For Jerry to be owned is the highest form of love. He willingly submits to Dean’s loving authority and to serve him brings him great joy. The roles often switch back and forth depending on what the other needs. When Jerry is dominant over Dean it gives him a chance to breathe. For most of Dean’s life he had to appear dominant and in control because that’s what is expected of a man. Jerry is seen as the wife, the female half and naturally the more submissive. But when Jerry takes over the dominant role Dean can just be. He doesn’t have to worry about appearances. Sometimes a man just likes to be led.

Layer Six Romantic

This is when I write Dean and Jerry as lovers. Call them boyfriends, husbands, whatever you want. They are romantically attracted and deeply in love. If you would like a description look up any quote from Jerry about their relationship.

Layer Seven Supernatural

I’m not planning on doing any crossovers with the TV show if that’s what you were thinking. I’m speaking of all the things related to their connection that cannot be explained. They were mythological. In real life they spoke of a connection so deep they knew when the other was sick, in pain, or even angry at them before they were in the same room. I create stories that hint at this connection. They were fated to be together. No matter how stupid they act or how badly they fuck everything up a force beyond their control will always bring them back together.

Layer Eight Sexual

I have left this to be the final layer because it is the most deepest and intimate aspect of their relationship. When I write them having sex all of their aspects work together. Their professional partnership, especially the part where they must know the other’s limits, prepares them for a sexual relationship. As boys they can wrestle and play and as men these games can become something more meaningful than harmless fun. If you replace father with caretaker then that aspect also plays a key part. Making love is what married couples traditionally do. Dominance, submission, the switching between the two awakens their deepest desires and fulfills their deepest need. In Dean’s case it’s a need he didn’t know he had. When I write them practicing an alternative lifestyle I include pain and that sex doesn’t have to be gentle to be deeply romantic. Sex and physical touch on it’s own is how Dean can express his love for Jerry. Words fail him but his hands never do. I write that they can feel the love as if it was something tangible and passed to the other. As for the supernatural aspect, imagine how satisfying sex could be with your soul mate who knew when you would take your next breath and who knew your body as well as you did. This is why whenever I write Dean and Jerry having sex or experiencing sexual intimacy it is always more than that. It does not matter what they do or the lies they tell they are experiencing a deeply emotional act that can sometimes border on the spiritual.

I remember hearing the writer of a TV show talking about writing sex scenes. He used sex scenes as an opportunity to show who the characters were. That always stuck with me and as a writer I prefer examining their relationship and personalities through sex scenes. I mainly write them in a sexual relationship for this reason and also because it’s fun.

Below the cut is my personal experience with writing their sexual relationship, particularly penetrative sex. None of this will be included on the version posted to AO3

It is very important for me to know if and when my characters engage in certain acts, especially penetrative sex.

I am very protective of my Jerry character. Once upon a time, I wanted Dean to be his first everything. I think we all like the idea of Jerry being in control of his experiences with men and for those experiences to be really special. But when I would attempt to write Jerry as shy and innocent it felt like I was writing an original character that had the same name. Jerry’s experiences whether good or bad make him who he is. I can’t logically write that Jerry never acted on his attraction towards men in sixteen years because his soul mate was out there waiting for him. Also, Dean’s possessiveness would take over when he found out Jerry was untouched. He would think of him as “pure” and that never sat right with me.

Jerry kissed boys and men, was held by some and maybe even developed romantic feelings for one of them and Mr. Martin is just going to have to accept that.

Another thing Mr. Martin has to deal with is that Jerry very much enjoys penetrative sex and wants that in his sexual relationships. I write Dean as his first experience with homosexual intercourse because I want that experience to be special for him. If the idea weren’t so laughable I would have Dean sprinkle rose petals on their bed. Jerry isn’t losing his “virginity” he’s had sex before. Intercourse isn’t any different from any other sexual act. Any way men choose to have sex or get off with each other is valid, intimate, and as romantic as they feel.

However, intercourse is a riskier act than the others. The first time for any gender can be tricky and a lot can go wrong. I want Jerry to be with someone gentle and caring enough that he can receive the maximum amount of pleasure. I want this person to be someone he’s in love with and only gives him positive emotions during. Most importantly I want him never to regret this happened and when he thinks of it throughout the decades he feels good.

Quite recently, I’ve decided on a specific time when they do this. Drum roll please... Dean and Jerry share this special experience in 1947 when Jerry is twenty-one.

Why such a specific time? Because in 1948 Jerry goes to Hollywood and reunites with his oh so special friend Tony. When I first joined this fandom I thought Jerry met Tony in 1948 and in my fanfiction writer mind because of their strong sexual chemistry they instantly started a sexual relationship. They did EVERYTHING. Jerry didn’t have to worry about the rules that men were supposed to follow or if he was acting too feminine in bed or not feminine enough. There was no hesitation or holding back with Tony. He bottomed, he topped, dominant, submissive he explored every side of himself. To be with Tony he has to be a fully blossomed flower of a man and when the fifties hit he knows exactly what he wants sexually and completely accepts the desires he has for whichever gender he has a relationship with.

It’s beautiful isn’t it? Tony and Jerry definitely have their problems but when it comes to their sexual relationship I always write it as positive and satisfying for the both of them. When I started writing fanfiction for them it’s what I loved the most.

[smokedstorybara]

everyone seems to describe writing fanfic, and their motives for doing so, as “fixing canon”

which is totally valid

it’s just not how it is for me

(I make a lot of long introspective posts like this on my main, like one every couple months, but since this one is about writing I figured I’d put it here instead; I’m gonna put a readmore here so y’all can skip over it all if you want)

for me writing fanfiction is almost like an experiment, an exploration of variables - circumstance, setting, choices - and how they affect the characters trajectories and the outcome of the story as a whole (though tbh I tend approach writing in general as an exploration of tropes and structure and psychology so I guess it’s just how I am)

(I’m gonna use some fanfics I’m working on, as well as the couple I’ve actually posted, as examples to help me explain what I mean, so if you don’t want spoilers maybe don’t read)

first: exploration of circumstance (then setting, choices, and ending with all three together)

my two examples for this are my published Dear Evan Hansen fic (Apprentice) Park Ranger Handsome and a role-reversal Arrowverse au I’m working on

(A)PRH started with the thought “what would’ve happened if Evan and Connor had first interacted over the summer, at the park Evan worked at?”

my first answer was a simple “their first meeting would likely have gone much smoother - the environment and circumstances of it being much more relaxed”

this led to “they both would’ve latched on to that; this conversation is going well lets try to keep it going as long as possible I’m starved for positive interaction turning into if I talk to him again maybe it’ll go as well as last time it hasn’t gone wrong yet keep coming back keep talking to him maybe this can be good”

which leads to them becoming friends (and likely developing crushes on each other) and then opening up to each other >> relying on each other >> supporting each other >> each realizing that if they want to support the other they need a more stable support themself >> Evan likely being the first to actively reach out for outside support since he already has a therapist and relatively better relationship with his mother >> Evan doesn’t fall from that tree and Connor doesn’t commit suicide >> the entire plot of the play no longer happens but the boys are happy and their families are at least on their ways to healing

the Coldflash role-reversal (which does not have a name yet) actually started with the question “what element would I need to change for Barry to still be a CSI for the CCPD but also use his superspeed to become a criminal?”

the element I went with was him not being allowed access to the file on his mother’s murder

the cause-effect diagram so far is as follows: Barry isn’t allowed access to the file and thus can’t investigate >> he’s upset about this fact >> in a better mental state to be aware of corruption and laziness in the police force (as well as other factors that lead to the wrong person getting arrested) >> becomes bitter and disillusioned but hides it because he still wants to do what he can to prevent innocent people from going to jail >> when he gets superpowers he decides to use it to bring light to the failings of the city’s law enforcement >> becomes a thief >> tries to steal the Khandaq Dynasty Diamond at the same time as Leonard Snart does >> Leonard Snart gets a hold of the cold gun >> they both try again at the same time but because Flash is faster the public see him as a thief and “Captain Cold” as a hero >> because Snart is a giant nerd and also because he’s frustrated with all the chaos in his city from the metas, he decides to go along with it and becomes a superhero

second: exploration of setting

my only example for this is a fantasy au I recently started for Pacific Rim

so the variable I changed was “instead of a war between humans and beings from another world, it’s a war between the two fae courts”

and where changing a circumstance leads to a cause and effect of characters choices, changing setting leads to a map of what that changes in the characters circumstances and identities

some examples from this au:

Hannibal Chau is a human who uses deals with what I’ve been calling “J Court” in my outline to boost his black market business - instead of just being a shady black market dealer with ties to the PPDC, he’s one of the few humans who even knows the fae exist

Stacker Pentecost is either the king of the J Court or the leader of it’s army, giving him much more power than he had in canon

Raleigh left the Court after Yancy’s death, separating himself from his people and instead immersing himself in humanity, but somehow Stacker convinced him to return

(on the flip side: Newt is still an expert on Kaiju biology and just as obsessed with studying them as he is in canon)

third: exploration of choices

this exploration is where I look at one choice made in canon and ask myself “how would everything change if a different choice was made here?”

two examples again; an Umbrella Academy fic (tentatively named “The One Where He Stayed” in my drive) and a Check Please fic currently titled Moving On

the choice in TOWHS is Klaus going back to 2019 after Dave dies - instead he stays, serves a full tour in Vietnam and then returns to the US with his surviving war buddies

this changes his circumstances, setting, and leads to a cause-effect chain of decisions

he’s now a veteran in early seventies USA, he has friends who respect him and care about him; he still decides to go sober to see Dave again but there’s more behind the decision; he makes himself a home and a family - even if a good portion of them are dead soldiers, some of them are the spouses of his brothers-in-arms, their children and siblings; he learns to control his powers, all of them; and when he finally ends up back in 2019 - either the long way or from accidentally opening the briefcase - he still has this family waiting for him to show back up, willing to help, he’s powerful and knows it, and there’s no way he’s going to let the apocalypse happen

Moving On is less changing a choice made in canon and more answering the question of “what would happen if this choice that wasn’t made was?”

or, more specifically, “what if Bitty and Jack broke up before the Stanley Cup win? how would that affect Bitty’s friendships, his life?”

because many of Bitty’s friends are also friends with Jack, or at least look up to him, and in fact several were friends with Jack first

this one is mostly about exploring the psychology of the comic’s characters and how they all would react

I was happy to realize there would likely not be too much side taking, but there would be awkwardness for most of them; Bitty would likely gravitate more towards spending time with Tango, Whiskey, and Ford who would be the three most likely to not make a big deal out of it or make things awkward; also Bitty would be unable to tell his mother, which would eat at him

then there was the question “if Kent found out would he sympathize? would they become friends?” (slightly harder to answer, since Kent is a tiny bit of an enigma, but I chose to be optimistic there)

and the most important question: “how would I want to end this story? would it be a more satisfying conclusion for Bitty to find a new boyfriend and be happy with him, or to decide he doesn’t need a man to be happy? should Jack end the story single, or in a new relationship?”

the answers I decided on were: while Bitty doesn’t need a man to be happy, he was closeted his entire teens and at this point has only had one relationship and he deserves to get another chance at romance; and on the other side, Jack’s personal story is more about his hockey and becoming comfortable being himself and really all he needs is to win the Stanley Cup or something

fourth: all three at once - or in other words: The Soulmate AU

soulmate AUs are the best way to cover all three at once because the very existence of soulmates changes the circumstances of the story and how the world works, and affects what choices the characters would make

once again, I have two examples: my published Moomins fic Perchance To Dream, and an Arrowverse one-shot series titled Dream A Little Dream

Perchance To Dream was started by the question “in what way could I make Moomin and Snufkin soulmates without them immediately knowing upon meeting? which soulmate trope would I have to use?”

my tentative answer was soul dreams

which was quickly followed by the acknowledgement that if young Snufkin had started having soul dreams he’d likely be unhappy >> if Moomin knew his soulmate was unhappy with their soul bond and he had a way to cut off the bond - say, an herb that you take every night to stop your soul dreams - he’d do that for them, even if it would make him very sad >> time passes and they meet how they do in canon and they’ve both grown enough that they don’t immediately recognize each other >> Snufkin would figure it out first, but exactly when and how would depend on Moomin >> Snufkin would keep it a secret, nervous about telling Moomin >> Moomin would find himself drawn (and attracted) to Snufkin and would have very conflicting feelings over it >> they’d both spend an awfully long time feeling conflicted and guilty before Moomin decides he wants to be with Snufkin, soulmate or not, and Snufkin decides to tell Moomin the truth - probably around the same time

Dream A Little Dream exists entirely as an exploration of the soulmate trope and the different possibilities within

instead of being a romance focusing on one or two ships, it’s a non-linear web showing both how the existence of soulmates affects all the characters and how the events of canon affect the relationships of all the soulmate pairs

(I tried to separate it into primary pairs, secondary pairs, and tertiary pairs to make it easier on myself but all the pairings were too important to the whole idea behind the story to limit their chapters(literally I have, like, nine endgame ships and two of those are polyam(as in I’m counting a four person polyam chain as one ship, even if it might technically count as three, and the other is three people: one relationship); and around fifteen soul pairs(yes there are more soul pairs than endgame ships, there’s a reason for that)))

because of the way I’m exploring the trope there’s fairly little, aside from romantic relationships, that changes from canon (at least up to season four of the Flash, cause that’s as far as I’ve seen)

mostly it’s things like Leonard Snart returning to life because him and Barry are one of the soul pairs I plan on having end up together - after a very long process of Len spending nine months thinking his soulmate died >> then several months of Barry knowing Len’s his soulmate but Len being in the dark >> a period of Len trying to win Barry over but failing a bit >> Len dying and Barry mourning him >> Barry marrying and then divorcing Iris >> Len coming back to life >> Barry and him finally getting together

which is a parallel(in that they both have the “good guy is soulmated to bad guy” dynamic) and contrast to Cisco and Hartley who don’t realize they’re soulmates when they first meet and totally hate each other >> when they can no longer deny it, they start to work together and accept each other >> end up together

Iris’s soulmate is Eddie, and she, Caitlin, and Ray are explorations of moving on after the loss of your soulmate and the different forms that takes - Iris and Caitlin ending up together(along with Shawna, who was left behind by her soulmate) and Ray trying to fill Anna’s spot with other romantic relationships before finally realizing that that isn’t actually helping and finally properly coming to terms with the loss

and I’m gonna stop here instead of going any further into this one, since it’s got so many moving parts and also it’s a little harder to separate from canon than the others

[valaza04]

“Feelings” - A Sanders Sides Fanfiction

Note: i’ve never written sanders sides fanfiction before, so this is kinda shitty, but whatever :)

TW: logan angst, crying, suicide, depressing thoughts, sadness.

I return to my living space, or room, after what seems an eternity, even though I know that is not possible since an eternity is defined as an infinite or unending amount of time. We made a Sanders Sides video today about “feelings” as Thomas and Patton like to call them and Patton ended up weeping as a result of admitting his own thoughts on the matter; Thomas’s former patch of unhappiness. Seeing a fellow... compatriot, I should say, such as Patton weeping over a topic that isn’t as sensitive to some - for instance, myself - is certainly unsettling. What are you talking about, Logan? You know it is equally as upsetting for you as it is for Morality.

Truth be told, my chest was nagging at me with emotions that wanted to be exposed to the others, even though I knew what would happen if they were; I would be reset, so to speak. The mind isn’t meant to feel things as strongly as the heart does, yet being around Morality, Princey, and Anxiety has truly affected me in ways I would’ve never dreamed of.

Since this was meant to be a two part video, we would be starting the second part tomorrow morning, which gave me approximately ten hours to accumulate these “feelings” and take hold of them before they got out of hand. I let out a sound of exhaustion and frustration, known to the simpler type as a “sigh”, and prepared myself for the dormancy of the night.

~~~~

“Morality?” I questioned slowly, hearing a dull and gentle crying coming from the other side of the door. “Patton? Are you alright?”

The door opened suddenly, revealing my companion in his infamous cat onesie, clutching one of the dog stuffed animals he has scattered around his room. He looked disheveled, his hair, for lack of a better word, messy, and his eyes tinted red and bloated. He looked at me for a moment before letting out another cry of anguish, throwing himself at me (although not literally; that would be very strange), trusting me to catch him.

I did, of course.

“Patton?” I spoke again, more quietly this time, a clenching feeling growing in my chest. I ignored it, shoving it down before it could consume me and my thoughts.

“Logan, I’m scared,” whispered Patton fragilely, his voice “cracking” as he uttered these words to me. “I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of the past. I’m scared of my own feelings. I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.”

He began to cry once again before I spoke affectionately. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Patton. Are you listening to me? It will all be alright. I will be sure of it.”

What were these “feelings”? The sudden urge to keep Morality safe from harm, mentally, emotionally, or physically, no matter what the cost was; what was that?

I wrapped my arm around him and guided him back towards his bed, sitting him down and sitting myself down beside him before hugging him, knowing that was what he needed in this moment.

“I love you, Logan. Thank you. For everything,” murmured Patton, his voice muffled by my shirt and his arms tight around me as I smiled slightly.

“Of course, Patton. Whatever you need.” And so I sat there, holding him as he cried softly.

And then he was gone.

Instead, I was now on the roof of the mind palace Roman constructed for us so long ago, confusion etching onto my face as I looked around.

Then appeared Virgil, standing at the edge of the rooftop, his hair careless and rumpled and a look of pain on his face. “Virgil!” I yelled without thinking.

That is quite bizarre, I think about everything before I say it, I thought to myself, taking a step in his direction.

“Virgil!” I called again, catching his attention this time as he looked at me slowly, his eyes identical to how Patton’s looked a few moments ago. I took another step toward him, my eyes never leaving his.

“I don’t know why you guys pretend like you like me, like you want me. I’m not important to anyone; no one would care if I just jumped off this roof right now,” he said, his voice shaking just like his hands and his legs.

“That is not correct, Virgil,” I replied, taking another step toward him. “According to my studies on the mind, you are just as crucial to Thomas as any of the others. You keep him critical of situations and safe, even if you do overdo it sometimes.” Another step. “You are the one who encourages him to practice and practice before performances.” Another step. “You are the one who is constantly reminding him of the cons to every situation and, no matter how aggravating that might be, it keeps him healthy and happy.” Another step. I am now mere inches away from him. “Situations can improve. With hard work and determination, it has been scientifically proven that you can turn your situation around, whatever it may be. You just have to step back from the ledge, Virgil. Step back, take a deep breath, and await the sun’s rising, for then will begin another day, and that is when you can restart.

“Just step back from the ledge, Virgil,” I whisper, my voice faltering for a moment, wobbling before returning to normal. I took another step, the tears in his eyes paining me in every way.

He looked at me and let out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut briefly and whispering, “I’m sorry, Logan,” before placing his right foot over the edge, sending him over and plummeting towards the ground. I launch myself forward, reaching for his arm desperately, but his weight is too much for me to hold onto for long, and he slips from my grasp, falling forward and hitting the ground less than a few moments later. I lean over and look at his mangled body on the ground as an unfamiliar sound rises up my throat and out my mouth before I can stop it.

And I am crying.

I am stumbling back on the roof and crying, my mouth agape and letting out sounds of anguish, shaking my head as my arms wrapped around my sides tightly as I squeeze, hoping to crush myself in half rather than feel this pain.

Virgil is gone. Virgil, the one who always teased and bickered with Roman. Virgil, the one who always preferred Patton above everyone else. Virgil, the one who always had the most sarcastic things to say about my facts and knowledge.

Virgil, the one who saved all three of us from the darkness of his room.

He only ever got to spend one Christmas with us, is the only thing running through my head now.

I let out another cry, my head bowed and my chest squeezing in pain, my stomach churning. Was this was grief felt like? Was this what it felt to lose someone you loved?

I don’t want it.

I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to feel this pain. I don’t want to feel the pain I felt when I saw Patton, my bubbly, happy colleague—no, friend—crying in his room because of the feelings he admitted to having earlier today. I don’t want to feel the grief I felt when I saw Virgil pitch himself off the roof, his body on the pavement below, unmoving and lifeless.

I let out another strangled cry, my glasses slipping off and leaving my vision more blurry than it was before.

I just want to be plain old Logic again, the unfeeling know-it-all.

I wake up suddenly, jumping up, feeling myself shaking as I place my hands on my face, feeling the moisture on my cheeks from my tears. I breathe in and out shakily, rubbing my cheeks and eyes free of their tears hastily.

I check the time: 3:47 AM. Marvelous. Sensational. Superb. I’m no longer feeling tired, but I must be ready and refreshed for tomorrow’s video, so I close my eyes and fall back into my slumber, my mind at peace and my dreams nonexistent.

~~~~

“Logan! Logan, come on up here, kiddo. It’s time for a Sanders Sides video,” I hear Patton saying distinctly, Thomas and the others already present. I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror and fixing my tie before wiping underneath my eyes quickly, not wanting anything to show of what happened last night.

“Nerd, come on! We’re all waiting,” whines Roman, obviously getting impatient with me.

I smooth my hair back with a comb and close my eyes, willing the slight puffiness in my eyes, left over from my crying fit, to go away.

“Logic! Get up here, what’s taking you so long?” complained Virgil.

“Relax guys, he’s coming,” said Thomas, a slight tone of doubt in his voice.

I took a deep breath in, standing up straight. Here goes...

“Salutations to you all. I apologize for my tardiness this morning; I couldn’t find my glasses,” I said as I shot a glare at Roman who just shrugged.

“Whaaat, why’re you looking at me like that?” he said, blowing it off as I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever, Princey. As I was saying, I couldn’t locate the whereabouts of my glasses. But I am here and we can continue discussing what we have been in the past video, which you can watch here,” I said, looking at the camera and pointing at the corner of the screen.

“Awwwww, I wanted to explain what happened,” said Patton sadly, and even the slightest tone of sorrow in his tone set me off, sending my mind spiraling down and back to last night’s dream, where he cried in my arms.

“If that is what you desire, Patton, then you may still explain. But quickly, because we need to get on with it,” I added on hastily, trying to make it seem like I was still old me.

Virgil, noticing the sudden change in behavior, looked at me in confusion and asked, “Logan, are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said much too quickly to make it seem a valid answer. I readjusted my glasses as I spoke once again. “Just... tired. I didn’t sleep well. But thank you for asking, Virgil.” I saved my mistake from being caught on by the other three, but not Virgil. He just looked at me, trying to figure out what was wrong, until he just shrugged and let it go.

So we continued on with the video; I almost slipped up a couple times, seeing Patton talk emotionally again and Virgil talk about how he didn’t think he was wanted, but up until then, it was fine.

Until we got to me.

I had just finished giving some informational advice to Patton when Thomas asked, “What about you, Logan?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, how did you feel? Or how do you feel?”

“Uhhh...” My lack of a witty response earned me some concerned looks as Patton looked worried, Virgil concerned, Roman confused but also concerned, and Thomas just... slightly frightened. I cleared my throat. “I... I don’t talk about my feelings, don’t you remember?” I slowly countered after a while, my heart racing as I thought of everything that had happened the night before.

“Logan, what’s going on? You okay, kiddo?” Patton asked with concern in his tone.

I couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t look them all straight in the eye and lie. I just smiled sarcastically at Patton and, letting Deceit take over for a moment, I said, “Yes, Patton. I am completely fine. There is not a single thing wrong with me today.”

Patton just looked at me sadly, hurt that I would say that to him, while Virgil and Thomas both pointed at me and yelled, “Deceit!”

Deceit popped up beside me, cackling as he normally did when he appeared. “Deceit, leave Logan alone,” threatened Thomas, anger displayed on his face.

“Fine. But you should know, he’s not hiding anything from you all. And I’m lying.” Deceit smirked at them before disappearing again, leaving Virgil to look at Thomas worriedly.

“All Deceit does is lie, but if he admits that he is then...” All of them looked at me, making me nervously fidget with my hands and adjust my glasses (which I never did), apart from Patton, who looks at Virgil.

“Then what, kiddo?”

“Then that would mean that Logan... you...” Roman didn’t get the chance to finish before Thomas looked at me, eyes widening in realization, confusion, and fright.

“Logan? What’s happening to you?”

I looked down at myself and gasped, watching as my skin began to cover itself in numbers; specifically, numbers that were part of a code.

My code.

“He’s resetting,” stated Virgil quietly, all eyes on me.

Even Patton looked unlike his normal silly, happy self.

“Why?” questioned Thomas, looking at Virgil.

“Because being around all of you has made me, the brainy side of you, Thomas, feel things the brain shouldn’t be feeling.” I looked around at all of them; not just my colleagues, not just my co-workers, not just my comrades, but my friends.

Virgil looked down, trying to hide the sadness that was showing on his face. “But... Logan, what does that even mean?” said Roman.

“It means...” I gulped and looked up at them, knowing they should know all this before I was reset. “It means I care about you. All of you. More than I should.” They were all silent.

“You are all amazing, and you’ve all taught me so many things.” I smiled and looked at Patton. “Patton, you showed me how fun it is to think of witty puns and dad jokes, and how amazing it is to see others laugh at them. And Roman,” I said as I turned my gaze to him. “You might dream big, sometimes too big, but you showed me that that’s healthy, that it’s good. Your love for Disney will stay with me forever, as well your passion and ambition. Virgil,” I turned to him, Patton softly convincing him to look up at me. “You may very well be the only one I can count on to keep things real when the others cannot. You keep Thomas from doing irresponsible things all the time, and even if you do over do it sometimes, it’s always helpful.

“And Thomas,” I said quietly, feeling tears prick at the back of my eyes. “Never stop being who you are. You are an amazing young man; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Listen to these guys, okay?”

“Logan, I—“

“It will be okay, Patton,” I said quietly, smiling sadly at him as I felt the tear roll down my cheek. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“I love you all so much,” I whispered, feeling my feet and hands start to disappear. I began quoting what Patton had said during our Valentine’s Day video, not knowing what else to say to them to make them understand. “If I could give you all butterfly kisses—do you know what those are? With the eyelashes?” I choked on the words, swallowing the sob that attempted to escape my lips. Both Patton and Roman were openly crying now, Patton holding a puppy Roman had conjured for him and placing it in the cat hoodie I had given him as a gift.

“Y-you—“ I couldn’t hold it in any longer and more tears rolled down my cheeks, my throat tightening and preventing the rest of the words from leaving my mouth when—

“You make my life complete,” whispered Roman, looking up at me and putting on a brave face for Patton, who was sobbing.

“Your existence is inconsequential—I mean, unimportant—I mean, good.” Virgil finished the line for me, smiling at me for what I believe is the first time ever. “And it really is, Logan. We love you.”

“And I love you.” And with that, I faded completely, the world going dark before my eyes.

~~~~

Patton held his breath as he watched Logan disappear before he let out another loud sob, sinking down before anyone could say anything to console him. Thomas turned off the camera slowly, appearing to be in a daze of what had just happened, while Roman and Virgil just stared at what looked like a blue vial that was left where he stood, a piece of paper stuck inside it. Virgil slowly stepped over to it, bending down and grabbing it. He opened it, looking at Roman and Thomas before reading the words out loud.

Logic “Logan” Sanders - Reset Scheduled for Tuesday, August 5th, 2018 at 11:07:46 - Reason: “Feelings”

Roman smiled a little. “He always did refuse to talk about his feelings. No wonder it was his downfall,” he said quietly before sinking down, not putting either of his hands up theatrically.

Thomas turned to Virgil. “Why didn’t you guys tell me this could happen, Virgil?”

Virgil sighed. “We didn’t want you to worry. Logan knew what was happening to him. He wanted to see if he could stop it by denying his ‘feelings’ for us.”

Thomas shook his head, sighing and putting his head in his hands. “God, if only he wasn’t so stubborn all the time... we could’ve done something, Virgil. We should’ve done something.”

“He’d already accepted it, Thomas. He knew it would happen. It was just a matter of when. And, you should know,” Virgil added softly, looking down at the ground and sticking his hands in his hoodie’s pockets, “he was having nightmares about it. For a while now, actually. The only reason why I know is since I am the source of your anxiety, I can sense when someone else in your mind is having a nightmare and what they’re about, plus when they’re feeling anxious.”

Thomas looked up at him and pleaded softly, “How long?”

Virgil pursed his lips before answering him. “Two and a half months.”

“Oh God, Virgil, I could’ve done something. I could’ve helped him,” cried Thomas, putting his head back in his hands.

“There was nothing you could’ve done, Thomas.” Virgil smiled a little, looking at him sympathetically. “At least he had time to admit everything to us before he reset.”

“Am I not gonna have another Logic, Virgil? Is that side of my mind gone forever?”

“No, another new one will come soon to take his place. But it won’t be Logan and it won’t be the same.”

Thomas nodded slowly, understanding what Virgil was saying to him. Just then popped up a new Logic, standing where Logan did. “Salutations! Hello, Thomas! And hello to you too, Anxiety!” And all Virgil could think was:

How dare you stand where he stood.

[myartwritingcraft]

Bureaus and Brokers – Chapter One: The one set in a bar

I mentioned about three weeks ago that I liked the Dotl RealWorldAU enough that I want need have to write some fanfiction for it...

I had a bit off a hickup how to write the fight, which lead to this stagnating for a while, but I think after this followups will be much easier, so if anyone would like to read more of this, please let me know!

(Also if you like my ideas you might want to check out my side-blog @prompts-and-micro-stories )

(Oh and before I forget it: Dotl is a great webcomic by @bludragongal and you should probably read it before reading this.)

Bureaus and Brokers – Chapter One: The one set in a bar

"Oh hell, ████ no! This was not only a complete waste of time, but so nerve-grating, that I probably lost a whole ███████ year of my lifetime. I'd rather tear my own eyes out than do this again!" were the words Lyra would have loved to say, but instead she responded weakly: "Yeah, it was a nice evening, we should repeat it sometime." She forced the corners of her mouth upwards and hoped that her colleagues wouldn't take enough notice to realize that the smile was 150% fake.

They didn't. "Why stop now? There is a very nice bar around the corner, that serves a badass martini!", Frank replied, genuinely excited.

"Oh, sorry, I don't drink", Lyra declined defensively: "For medical reasons. I have an appointment to donate blood tomorrow." In her mind she complimented herself for this excellent alibi.

"Oh bugger!", Frank replied, but the small group left to continue their little tour.

Lyra watched them a while, and started audibly grumbling when they were away enough not to hear it. “████, of course they want to hang out at my favorite bar. Of course, when I need a drink the most…”

She took her smartphone out of her bag and started searching for another fitting establishment. It sucked that there were only a few semi decent drinking locations around in the city and now she would have to make a huge detour to the next one, instead of just making a short trip to her usual place and then walking to her flat a few houses further.

A few swipes later she called a cab and was her way to the next location. Her mood sank further, because of the obnoxious tune that sounded off from the car’s radio. And the smell in there reminded her of the wrong end of heavy drinking nights.

Finally they arrived at the bar and she quickly paid off the cab driver with a few currency units and determinedly strode forwards to the entrance.

It has been a very slow night so far for Brent. Today there were almost no patrons at the bar, so he had taken up a seat inside next to the entrance instead of standing outside. There was no point in staying in the cold if he was the only one to do it. Without prior notice a woman entered and strategically strode towards the bar.

“Hey!”, Brent called after her: “You can’t just enter!”

The woman ignored him and simply placed an order with the barkeep.

Brent sighed and stood up and walked over. He tried to sent of an imposing and respectable aura, but in the end he felt mostly annoyed.

“Excuse me, miss”, he started, but she only took a quick glance at him and waved dismissively: “It’s alright, you may leave now.”

“Wait, what?” Brent was startled.

“Go away”, she added and grabbed for the glass that the barkeep put in front of her.

“Not so fast!”, Brent interjected and demonstratively snatched her beverage away.

“Hey!”, she interjected: “That’s mine! Get your own drink, ███████!”

“I don’t drink while I work”, Brent stated: “And you won’t drink until I’ve taken a look at your ID.”

She stared at him and rolled with her eyes: “Do I look like I’m not of drinking age yet?”

He snorted: “You might look like an octogenarian and I still would check your ID.”

She starred at him for three solid seconds, during which he did his best to not flinch, and suddenly broke out into laughter: “That’s priceless! What are you, the bouncer?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I am!”

“Okay, kiddo, here!” She took her ID out and flipped it over to him, still chuckling.

Brent checked it thoroughly and gave it back. “Okay, looks like you’re fine. Have fun drinking, but don’t overdo it!” He added the last part because he felt kinda awkward.

“No worries”, she said and emptied her glass in one swift swoop: “I’m a responsible drunk.”

“Whatever”, Brent replied and returned to his station at the entrance.

While she ordered another few drinks Lyra realized that she didn’t feel that shitty anymore which was really strange, because normally she needed at least four more glasses to reach that point. Perhaps it was the simple fact that this guy had not oogled her like most – who was she kidding, all guys around did. That was a kinda refreshing, although she was sure that he’d manage in a heartbeat to destroy what little positive opinion she had of him. Most ALL people managed.

Kinda depressed again she continued to raise her spirits by trying to drown her sorrows in them.

As someone used to drinking she quickly reached that special happy state of mind, where things didn’t bother her anymore and she just felt intensely bored. So she looked around and watched the other patrons.

There were a couple of sleazy businessmen that tried to get drunk on some quality whiskey (she would have recognized that bottle even blindfolded). Then there were a few more construction-workerish looking guys, that hurdled around a tablet computer, where one of them seemed to stream one of these sports games. The faint sound let her guess that it was probably soccer or football or whatever.  She had absolutely no idea, because regular sports were all the same anyway; they lacked the finesse of real martial arts. Seriously, it was right there: martial arts. That was a form of physical exercise she could get into.

A third group consisted of a few dolled up gals, who obviously enjoyed their time together, happily chatting and laughing a lot.

Lyra let her gaze linger longer on them, she always tried to use opportunities for getting some inspirations how to put her own outfits together. That was the only reason, no doubt whatsoever.

The nice view degraded, as a few more guys entered the bar and the biggest douche of them started to harass them in the most stupid way imaginable:

“Hello ladies, how are we doing tonight?”

“None of your business!”, one gal with snazzy blond hair replied, inducing laughter in the others.

“Hey, no offense. I just tried to be nice here.”

“Maybe, but we are having our little ladies night here, so could you just let us be?”, a black-haired one asked.

The guy started grinning pleased like Punch: “But don’t you know that one man is needed to make a ladies night really pleasurable?” When he started to actually touch one of them, Lyra knew that this had gone more then far enough.

A quick glance in the entrance’s direction – of course empty, because why should the bouncer be bouncing, when there is an actual need for the bouncer to bounce – and Lyra headed off to the damsels in distress. “Hey, they said they want to be left alone!”, she hissed angrily at them.

“████ off, █████!”, on of the other guys replied, but the leader just scratched his chin: “You’re not looking bad, not at all. Perhaps you could join us? Well make sure that it will be an unforgettable night!”

“Cut that ████████, the ladies asked that you leave them alone, so you will respect that wish and back off.”

“And if I don’t do that?” He stroked contemplatively his chin.

“Then you will regret it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Maybe...” Lyra demonstratively let her knuckles crack.

The guy waved aside: “Oh come on, really? As if I could take an office █████ like you serious. Did you ever look at yourself in a mirror? Would someone like you risk to break of one of her pretty manicured nails? Or worse, what if some of your makeup smudges?”

Lyra didn’t even bat an eye: “That’s all you got? All hat and no cattle?”

“Still more then you’ll ever have. Be a nice woman and sit down again. Perhaps you could then actually start to enjoy some attention.” He grabbed Lyras breast.

It took only a moment, but Lyra grabbed his arm and throw him with a special move down onto the ground. Then she put one of her feet on his chest and asked: “Finally willing to listen now, ███████?”

Brent was carefully balancing the three heavy crates with assorted liquors and tried to find a walking speed that was fast and stable enough at the same time. Running errands annoyed him; he had to make sure that there was nothing fishy going on, but explain that to the barkeep.

He was always back at the door and briefly put down the crates to open it, strategically placing one of his feet to keep it open. He bend down to carefully pick up the crates without loosing foot-grip on the door.

In the moment, the crates were firmly in position, a man suddenly flew through the door, landing on the concrete sidewalk. Brent glanced inside the bar, were he saw the office lady from before, breathing heavily, a look of furious anger on her face mixed with a hint of surprise, and a big stain on her outfit. Its color suggested it was an appletini.

She bristled with anger, went directly after him and said: “I hope this was a lecture how it ends if you can’t behave like a decent ███████ human being!”

The woman made a glance sideways: “Have a problem?”

Brent who just had watched, unable to do something without putting his precious cargo down first, just shake his head: “Nope. I’m sure you had a perfectly valid reason to throw all the way through the bar onto the street.”

“████ right!”, she responded, reminding him for a little moment of a cockatoo puffing its feathers.

In the distance the sirens of a police car could be heard approaching, quickly coming nearer. The matching car arrived half a minute later, and the officers quickly assessed the situation.

“That was about time!”, Lyra declared satisfied, when they cuffed up the sleazebag, but she was caught by surprise, when they continued with her. “Hey, what is that supposed to mean?!”

“You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you. Etc. pp.”

She was not so dumb to resist the police, but she was clearly not happy either.

Brent watched as the car left the scene with both of them, and shock his head: “That could have definitely gone better.”

~~~

Ford glanced over his partition screen and smiled, mildly mischievous. "I think this is the perfect opportunity to switch the game to the other group, don't you think so?"

"Oh come on, I was having a run here, you can't seriously leave my character hanging in limbo like this!", Lyra said and crossed her arms.

"Hey, I'm the gamemaster, remember rule number zero."

"Pff, fine, whatever..."She grabbed her glass and downed its content, although it was just plain, ordinary water.

Thistle looked up from the book that she had read and panickly started to shuffle around the myriad of sourcebooks surrounding her: "But I'm not ready with my character yet!"

"Don't worry", Ford replied: "As long as you have the basics down, we can start. We won't get into the finer mechanics of the game until later. Also I think it would be nicer to begin the scene with Mr. Orrig."

He nodded in the direction of the orc, who put down his character sheet. "Ve can start venever you vant."

[pinknerdpanda]

All That You Are

Inspired by/featuring the pre-chorus of Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran (lyrics bolded) Listen here.

Characters: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean

Word Count: 1915ish

Warnings: A.N.G.S.T. with a side of angst. With like…a drizzle of fluff maybe. Also, drinking, depression,  allusions to sex.

A/N: This is my second fanfiction. Seriously…this wouldn’t be happening without @wheresthekillswitch who edited and beta’d it. It has been a labor of love. :) Thanks sweetness!! Also, the Gif (x) is not mine.

Feedback is so appreciated! Hope you enjoy! :)

The day had started out perfectly normal. A cup of coffee, a hot shower, a bowl of Lucky Charms, and you were ready to face the day. You hadn’t even batted an eyelash when you heard your ringtone sound, until you pulled your phone from the back pocket of your favorite jeans to check the caller ID. Sam. As those three tiny letters flash on your screen, your world comes to a screeching halt.

The memory of your brief time together comes crashing into you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. Not knowing if any portion of your feelings had been reciprocated, or if you had just been a temporary fix for a broken man has haunted you. You’d known within the first week that you would love him forever, a truth that still burns to the very depths of your soul.

The sound of the phone ringing in your hand grows distant as your mind wanders back to all the times you’ve sat alone, thumb poised, ready to tap his entry in your contacts list. It happens more than you like to admit, each time it does you chicken out at the last moment and spend days cursing yourself for your cowardice.

Other days, you stare at the blank screen, willing it to ring, desperately yearning to see his number on the display. Those days are your hardest, the void in your chest threatens to envelop your entire existence with each passing second of silence, usually they end in a deluge of tears, rum and self-loathing.

Before you knew it, the days of silence had stretched into weeks; the weeks into months; the months into years…until today. You have your reasons for the silence, and you know Sam has his own. Why now?

The sudden absence of sound brings you out of your thoughts. It must have gone to voicemail. Shit.

Before you can contemplate your next move, your phone starts ringing again.

It takes three gulped mouthfuls of air before you’re able to answer his call “Sam?” You silently scold yourself for how pathetic your voice sounds in your own ears.

There’s a brief hesitation before the rich timbre of his voice fills the receiver. “I…I wasn’t even sure you would answer…” Sam trails off and the silence quickly becomes deafening.

“How…” you both begin at the same time. An uncomfortable chuckle escapes your throat.

“You first,” you offer, hoping to gain some extra time to steel your nerves.

His hesitation is palpable. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” you lie.

“Me too.” His tone tells you he’s lying just as much as you are.  

“Y/n,” Sam breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to see you. Today.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as your thoughts flip between anger and bitterness before settling firmly on anger, your cheeks fill with heat and you snap. “Are you serious? You are un-fucking-believable, Sam Winchester.” Your tone is harsh, but you’re past caring. “It’s been two years, Sam. Two. Years. And now what? You think you can pull my chain and I will come running?” Up until now you’d been too furious to cry, but now when you hear the choked breath on the other end of the line, you aren’t able to push the tears back.

“I know.” His voice is thick with raw emotion. “I have no right, I know that. But please,” he hesitates. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.”

“What?” You shake yourself, trying to wrap your brain around his sudden desperation. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry.” Sam takes a deep breath. “I am so sorry. I can’t explain right now, but I will. I promise. Please, y/n, it has to be today.”

———–

It’s 1:00. That’s what he’d said - 1:00. Sharp. And yet he’s nowhere to be found. You can’t recall him ever being late. Instantly your thoughts are plagued with a multitude of catastrophes that might be responsible for holding him up. You pinch the bridge of your nose and clamp your eyes shut, in an attempt to physically push away the onslaught of anxiety.  Come on Sam.

Closing your eyes only makes you picture his face. He was fucking gorgeous, but you’d been drawn to more than his looks that first night. He had been a shell of a man; his brother had just died and he was a wreck. Your desire to relieve his pain mixed with the alcohol you’d consumed made the answer to his question a no-brainer - of course you wanted to go home with him.

It had been a passionate dalliance. Not only was Sam incredibly kind and loving and intelligent. He was somewhat mysterious, but you never pushed him. Never pressured him into sharing the secrets you knew he was holding back.

But then, just two months later, just as abruptly as Sam Winchester had walked into your life, he’d walked right back out. A hastily scrawled note and an empty dresser had been the closest thing to closure you’d had in two years.

You tap your right leg impatiently as you scan the cramped diner for the thousandth time, but come up empty again. Nervously, you check your phone. No missed calls, no texts. 1:08.

You drum your fingers against the table in time with the racing of her heart. Why did I even agree to meet him at all? Your mind whirls in a myriad of thoughts, none of which are helping to ease the lump in the pit of your gut. Fuck it.

Your hands fly to your phone, fingers fumbling to pull up his number just as the bell over the front door chimes. You snap your head toward the noise and freeze. Sam. His hulking frame overwhelms the small entryway, his eyes quickly scan the room before meeting yours. His hair is longer and his neck is thicker, more muscular. Otherwise he looks exactly the same to you, down to the plaid button-up, jeans and boots.

Sam’s long strides close the distance between you before you’ve fully risen to your feet. Without hesitation, Sam’s massive arms wrap stiffly around you, engulfing you in his embrace. Tentatively, your arms encircle his waist and relief washes over you. You feel the tension in his body slowly melt away.

You want to pull back and look up into his face, hoping to find the answers to two years worth of questions somewhere in those brilliant hazel eyes. Instead, you just stand there, hanging onto him as if you’re a drowning woman and he’s your lifeboat. After what feels like an eternity, you start to release your grip only to realize that he’s holding on just as desperately.

This man had broken - no, decimated your heart. You’d practiced everything you wanted to say to him in the hours following his call this morning. However, every tortuous word you’d scripted falls from your memory when you feel the silent shudder that courses through his body. You feel people staring, but you don’t care.

Sam takes a ragged deep breath before he lets go. He smiles sadly as he rubs the palm of one hand over his tear-streaked cheeks. You both sit and you stare at him, speechless. He meets your gaze and you see a weight you’d never noticed before. You examine him carefully and realize that this is nowhere near the same man you’ve mourned the last two years.

The man in front of you now wears a different kind of pain. There’s a sag in his shoulders and his eyes hold a determined resignation that you can’t quite place. Whatever this is about, you have a feeling it’s not going to be pretty.

“Sorry I was late,” he says, finally breaking the silence.

“I started to worry,” you say hollowly. “I got here 10 minutes early expecting you’d be here already. I’m glad you’re ok.”  He nearly smiles at that.

“Y/n…look…there aren’t words to express how wrong I was.” His sudden candor makes you blink. “I just need you to know that I have loved you more deeply these last two years than I can even comprehend.” He pauses, and you open your mouth to speak, but finding no response there, quickly shut it. “I could sit here and give you the lists of things I wanted - needed to do since the day I left, and every truly valid excuse for having not done them, but that wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t even begin to ease the agony I have caused you, and for that, I could not be more ashamed.”  

“Sam, I…” He holds up his hand, and you fall silent.

“I am so sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. Please let me get through this…I don’t have much time.” He checks his watch and grimaces before continuing. “There are so many things about me that you don’t know. And in a way I am grateful for that. But I need you to know that when I was at my lowest, you picked me up and put me back together,” he pauses lost in thought while tears burn at the backs of your eyes. You listen in disbelief as he angrily shakes his head and continues. “And how did I repay you? By fucking up your life…twice. The first time by leaving and the second time now by coming back.” He sighs. “I was trying to protect you. I stayed away to keep you safe. I will never forgive myself, but I know I did the right thing. You’re safe and after tomorrow, I can guarantee you won’t have anything to fear again.”

“What the fuck are are even saying? Keep me safe? What is happening tomorrow? Why are you telling me thi…” Your words are cut off by the firm press of his lips against your own. Your tongues dance hungrily over each other, as all the unspoken words, feelings and pain of the last two years seem to vanish. He pulls back breathless, his large hands still gently hold the sides of your head, your lips just a fraction of space apart.

“Y/n.” He breathes your name, and it’s a whisper against your lips. “If this should be the last thing I see, I want you to know it’s enough for me. All that you are is all that I’ll ever need.” Sam’s hazel eyes drill into your own with absolute sincerity.

“Sam,” a deep but gentle voice startles you both. You look up to see a tall man, his emerald eyes are filled with regret. “I’m sorry, we need to go. Detroit is still two hours away.” Sam nods slowly.

“Ok, Dean. I’ll be right out.” Sam exhales. As you watch the man exit the diner and climb into the driver’s side of a shiny black Impala, a troubling thought fills your head.

“Wait…your brother, Dean?”

Unexpectedly, Sam’s lips are on yours again, his mouth a hard press of urgency and need. His hands fist in the back of your hair as his tongue grazes your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, drawing a moan from deep within you. He breaks the kiss and stands. “I love you, y/n. Thank you.”

Without another word, he walks out the door, climbing into the passenger’s side seat of the Impala. Gravel dances through the air as they back out of the parking lot and they head toward Detroit.

You’ve just heard the exact words from him that you’ve been longing for, but never expected to hear. Yet here you sit alone, watching the taillights fade into the distance. He loves me?

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