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shadeysprings · 7 months

Text

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more.

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before.

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.”

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling.

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t.

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge.

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note.

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you.

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.

“Dance with me.”

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week.

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there.

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die.

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before.

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

#steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x f!reader #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #you #fresh #fresh the movie #sebastian stan characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable?

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions.

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3.

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside.

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said…

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from.

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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dianneking · 2 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Blondie - Larissa/Melissa

Hello hello! For the first week of Back on The Writing Horse (you can find the original post and masterlist here) I am using prompt 2553 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

"Are you going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me."

Thank you to @scream-queenlover for picking that prompt out for me and making this lovely cover art to go with the fic, as well as the closing one.

Fandom: Wednesday (2022) and Abott Elementary Characters: Larissa Weems / Melissa Schemmenti Tags: Friendly banter, Dare I say it's fluff? (it's fluff), Food, Mentions of skipping meals. Words: 1497

Happy Birthday, Blondie (link to AO3)

…Kind regards

Larissa Weems, principal of Nevermore Academy.

Larissa sighed in relief after clicking the send button on the latest email. Today had been quite the whirlwind of phone calls, emails and meetings, and it was still only lunchtime, who knew what the afternoon would entail. She closed her eyes, massaging her temples to try and stave off the tension headache she was starting to feel building up. She loved her job, and she loved Nevermore, but there was just something about this sort of days that really took a lot out of her.

The door to her study chose that moment to slam open, noisily hitting the cabinet at the end of its run. “Well, if it isn’t our principal caught dozing off at work!”

There was only one person in Nevermore who had the guts to barge into Larissa’s office unannounced and insult her work ethic at the same time. Larissa refused to give her the satisfaction of opening her eyes.

“What is it, Melissa?”

“Oi! At least look at me when you sigh my name. That’s a privilege not many people have, if you usurp it, I’ll have you move back to using Miss Schemmenti.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.” Larissa deadpanned. But she did crack open her eyes. The fiery head of her coworker was almost too bright in the sunlight that streamed in from the tall windows of her office.

“For sure not today of all days!” The smug grin on Melissa’s face told Larissa that the redhead knew she had won this round. Damn it.

“And what’s so special about today?” Asked Larissa petulantly.

“Are ya kidding me, Blondie?” Melissa looked at her as if she expected some sort of trick from her. Or a smart remark. That was their thing after all. A constant banter, prodding at each other trying to find the right button to push to make the other concede a point in their match of wits.

Larissa liked that. She had been too used to people in awe of her, or too scared of her power (both the political one and the actual shapeshifting) to pose much of a challenge for her. When Melissa joined Nevermore, Larissa had at first balked at what she had perceived as blatant disrespect from the latest addition to staff. But after a while a sort of understanding had formed between the two women, a sort of mutual recognition of kindred spirits (aided by a couple of heart-to-hearts brought along by copious amounts of wine, but they didn’t talk about those too much).

Melissa must have read that she was still missing the point, because she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if to ask the heavens to grant her patience, and strode forward to place a cafeteria tray on Larissa’s desk. Larissa blinked at the plates: on one, a heaping portion of lasagna that looked way too good to be standard Nevermore fare, and on the second, bigger plate, a whole chocolate cake, complete with a dripping layer of decadent ganache and a wonky writing that recited: Are you a natural blonde or did you dye for attention?

Larissa tried to avoid drooling at the sight, while her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast, again, this morning.

“Happy birthday, Blondie.”

Oh. Was it today? Larissa could’ve sworn today was still Thursday and her birthday wasn’t until…

…her eyes fell on the stylish calendar perched on the side of her desk.

Friday, February 16th.

Whoops.

“You can’t be serious. You had to check the calendar to be sure it was your birthday?”

“No!” Larissa lied quickly. “I just hmm…I wanted to check something, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure, whatever makes you sleep at night. Eat up, you don’t want my lasagna to get cold.”

Larissa picked up the fork. That was Melissa’s cooking. That’s why it looked – and smelled! – so absolutely divine.

“Thank you by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Oh please. We both know that you skip more lunches than the ones you actually eat. At least on your birthday you should enjoy some good cooking.”

Larissa dipped her fork into the lasagna, inclining it sideways to slice a bite off of it and scooping it up to bring it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss as she chewed. It was an explosion of flavors and textures, perfectly balanced and delicious in every aspect. The fullness of the meat, the tangy and yet sweet tomato sauce, the sheets of pasta cooked to perfection, all enveloped by the smooth embrace of the bechamel sauce…it wasn’t just a lasagna, it was a masterpiece.

“Wow.” Was the only word that she could form before she dove back in.

She heard Melissa’s throaty chuckle, and knew without raising her eyes that there was another self-satisfied smile adorning her lips. Well, Larissa could allow her this one. The lasagna was really something else.

They sat in silence for some time while Larissa ate, Melissa having slouched in one of the armchairs in front of Larissa’s desk, as perfectly at ease as if she was in her own living room, before the redhead spoke conversationally.

“You know, I am glad I dropped by at lunch break, so I managed to remind you in time to get ready for whatever you have planned tonight. Not attending your own birthday party would be kinda lame.”

Larissa took her time swallowing the bite before she replied.

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I don’t have anything planned for tonight. Just a quiet evening in, you know?” Actually, the more this conversation went on, the more Larissa was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a bottle of wine and some good music. Maybe read a bit, too? She almost didn’t remember the plot to the novel she was reading, so long it had been since she last had time to open it. Was that lame? She had just turned 46, she was allowed to wallow a bit and not go out and celebrate if she didn’t feel like it. Right?

“Oh come on. You’re not gonna spend your birthday evening here in your office, are you?”

“Why not? It’s a very nice study, I spent years decorating it just like I want to.”

“Yeah of course. I mean what’s a better birthday companion than a stuffed raven, after all? But seriously, Larissa,” Melissa’s tone turned serious, and the fact that she used her first name instead of a ridiculous nickname signaled that this was not a question Larissa could brush off flippantly, “are you really going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me." Larissa shrugged, cleaning the last bit of lasagna sauce off the plate with the side of her fork. She had never been a huge fan of birthdays anyway.

“Absolutely not! I will not allow that.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“You may beg all you want but you won’t get out of this. Be all ready and dolled up at six this evening. I might not have as many resources here in Vermont but the ex-husband of my second cousin owns the most disreputable dive bar in Williston. We’re going.”

“Melissa, there’s no need to…”

“No no. You misunderstand. This was not a question. You’ll be coming with me to party on your birthday night whether you like it or not, Miss Weems. And you’ll have the time of your life doing so.”

Larissa met her eyes, her bright green eyes looking up at Larissa as if challenging her to disagree, and all it did was make a lovely warmth spread in the taller woman’s chest. She shook her head, an exasperated smile climbing to her lips.

“Alright, alright, you stubborn woman. You win. We’ll go celebrate my old age at your shady bar. But you’re offering the first round.”

“Ha! As if I’d let the birthday lady pay for her own drinks! I’ll have you know that my nonna raised me properly!”

They made eye contact across the desk, blue meeting green with an intensity that was new and warm and exciting. Larissa tried to convey in that gaze how much Melissa’s actions meant to her. Not just the cake and the birthday wishes. Hell, not even the invite to go out together. It was the fact that Melissa was there for Larissa in a way nobody had been in a very long time.

“Thank you, Melissa.” She said, frustrated at herself for being unable to say more, and yet charging those two simple words with all those untold things.

She was able to see the blush crawling up the other woman’s cheeks at her gratitude, and couldn’t help but think how adorable it made Melissa look. Clearly embarrassed, the redhead ran a hand through her locks and spoke in a gruff voice.

“So are you just gonna stare or are you gonna try the cake?”

The End

For anyone wondering, this is loosely in the same universe as my other Larissa/Melissa fic, New Teacher In Town. You can find more of my fics in my masterlist

Next fic in the challenge >

#larissa weems #melissa schemmenti #larissa weems x melissa schemmenti #larissa/melissa #larissa weems fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #abbott elementary #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie fanfiction #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter fanfiction #gwendoline christie #dianneking fanfiction #dragonmist fanfiction #dianneking writes

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restinsodaroni · 5 months

Note

Incoming transmission....

. . . .

Transmission received!

I hope this message finds you well. Alas, I have no sweets for Sun and Moon this time around. But, I would like to take this moment to uplift your spirits in hopes to help suppress the ugliness that this place has brought you for an unacceptable amount of time.

Firstly, I'd like to say I am immensely sorry that some people are unable to recognize or seemly choose to dismiss your boundaries. It's disgusting and very disrespectful to ignore something that's been listed and reiterated multiple times over and over again. I can only hope that the majority feel just as repulsed by such actions.

Anyways, with that out of the way, I would like to say that your art is chef's kiss. I really enjoy each art post of the lanky jester bois and the style that's uniquely yours. HOW DO YOU MAKE SUCH EXPRESSIVE YET STILL UTTERLY STATIC FACES??? Like seriously.... I don't know if I can really explain it properly. You have a way with keeping the original static feel yet also making it emote emotion so effortlessly in your art of both Sun and Moon(and now Eclipse). I love how they blush in different ways between one another; Sun with his whole face lighting up and Moon's eyes brightening up with sometimes slight additional color. I also love the funny shenanigans in the art responses to the asks. Particularly the hat collection.

On a similar note, your writings are as equally enjoyable and fantastic as the art you create. Recently saw you've started another dca fanfic with ruin eclipse. Can't wait to read that as well. Really love rereading your stories of the bois.

In conclusion, I enjoy your creative creations and how much time and effort you put into each piece that is made. Each one makes me go "omnomnomnomnomnom" and can't wait for more to appear. It's been great so far since I've stumbled upon your works as it continues to draw my attention. Looking forwards for more coming from you in the future to be.

Wishing you a wonderful end of 2023 and an even better 2024. :D

Awww thank you so much for this sweet message!! 😭 I know that's just how the Internet is, but man it gets me sometimes 😅 Just gotta remind myself that I can step away from here if I need lol.

I do feel bad because these people are asking for comfort in their time of distress, but I mentally can't do it honestly.

I'm so glad you like my art and writings! Thank you so much for checking out my fics! I'm happy you enjoy my lanky goofballs 🥹

Thank you so much for taking the time to write this! It means a lot to me! 🫶

#restinsodaroni ask replies #long post #gifs

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nataliewritez · 11 months

Text

•-------Masterpost--------•

Pfp made by Totty

Requests: Closed!

Art Requests: Open!

Twitch: Link

Discord: Link

Wild Kratt's Discord: Link

Commissions: Link

•----------------Info------------------•

I do not write NSFW! That excludes bondage (heavy, perhaps mild), nudity, and adult activities, jokes are a completely different matter.

Please make sure to read the list below every so often to make sure if one of my fandoms are still active or not, I will be updating it every time I make a new fic or read/watch something new.

Remember I'm only one person, if I take long to do your request, it most likely will be due to personal life issues, my entire life doesn't need the internet.

If you disrespect my friend's rules/boundaries, just know if you come to me, I may not do your ask for a long while, for if you hurt a friend of mine, I'll not take that lightly.

More may be added in future.

•--------------Fandoms--------------•

Will Never Take Off: 👀

Most Into: 💖

Average: 💗

Like But Won't Write For: ❤

Not Into Currently: 💔

Will Write For: ✍

Won't Write For: 🤚

Still Playing/Watching: 🤳

Play/Watch List: 👁

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•---------------Anime----------------•

Dororo: 👀✍

BSD: 💖✍

Haikyuu!!: 💗✍

TBHK: 💗🤚

Black Butler: 👁🤚

Demon Slayer: 👀✍

Spy x Family: 🤳✍

Nanbaka: 👁✍

One Piece: 🤳✍

Komi Can't Communicate: 🤳✍

FMAB: 🤳✍

MHA: 🤳✍

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•---------------Game----------------•

Genshin Impact: 💖✍

Honkai Star Rail: 👁🤚

Skyrim: ❤🤚

Ace Attorney: 👀✍

Obey Me: 💗✍

PjSekai: 💔🤚

Misao: 💗✍

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•----------------Show----------------•

HTTYD: 💖✍

TOH: ❤🤚

Ninjago: 💖✍

Puss 'N Boots: 💖✍

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•--------------Webtoon--------------•

Batman Wayne Family Adventures: 💖🤳✍

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•-------------Masterlist--------------•

Let The Stars Guide You (Lee!Reader/Ler!Xiao)

Departure Day (Lee!Senjuro/Ler!Kyojuro)

How To Train Your Owl (Lee!Bokuto/Ler!Akaashi)

Ango's Weakness (Lee!Ango/Ler!Reader)

Upper 1 & 2's Secret (Switches!Douma & Kokushibo/Ler!Akaza)

Dazai's Troublesome Day (Lee!Dazai/Lers!Atsushi & Akutagawa)

Cackly Cords (Lee!Zane/Lers!Cole & Pixal) (Collab w/ @jettorii)

Mushi-Madness (Lee!Reader/Ler!Mushitarou)

Sun Dials & Wails (Lee!Tengen/Ler!Kyojuro)

Knight In Shining Armour (Lee!Rui/Ler!Tsukasa)

Wonderous Ways (Lee!Xiao/Ler!Lumine)

Lying Lawyer (Lee!Phoenix/Ler!Edgeworth)

Boo Boo's & Laughter (Switches!Anya & Loid/Ler!Yor

High Horizons (Lee!Venti/Ler!Lisa)

Butterflies Bounty (Lee!Tomioka/Ler!Kocho)

A Book's Purpose (Lee!Yanfei/Ler!Hu Tao)

Best Day Off Ever (Lee!Chuuya/Ler!Reader) (Dani's Birthday Fic)

Late Night Sorrows (Lee!Reader/Ler!Mushitaro)

A Proxy's Memories (Lee!Toby/Ler!Slender)

Silent Kicks (Lee!Tadano/Ler!Komi

Tripping Up (Lee!Roy/Ler!Riza)

A Magician's Trick (Lee!Ferminet/Lers!Lynette & Lyney)

Near The Wood Fire (Lee!Jason Todd/Ler!Sakura)

Finding His Voice (Lee!Hyakkimaru/Ler!Mio)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

•-----------------Art-----------------•

Lee!Jacqui(OC)

Lee!Edward Elric(FMAB)

#natalie writez #sfw tickle community #sfw tk community #tk community #sfw tk blog #tickle content #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tk fic #bsd tickle #haikyuu tickle #genshin tickle #ace attorney tickle #pjsekai tickle #demon slayer tickle #ninjago tickle #fmab tickle

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oillydiya · 4 months

Text

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 1 : The Beginning

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary. Note: This fic is relatively lengthy. If there is sufficient readership, it may be updated continuously. The content is purely the author's imagination and is not related to the actors. There is no intention to disrespect or cause harm to the actors in any way. Please use discretion when reading.* Talk: This is my first attempt at writing a fic, and English is not my native language. If there are any mistakes, I apologize in advance. Feel free to comment and provide feedback.

November, 2022

Bad Day!!!!

“I’m trying to find a gallery to host an art exhibition for a graduate with my own master’s degree, but I still can’t find it. Even though this exhibition will be held at the beginning of next month!”

"Damn it! Doing things by oneself is really tiring," Sansa, a twenty-six-year-old young female graduate student, murmured about the situation she was in.

London, a beautiful city, is a dream place for many people, and Sansa is another resident of this city, her hometown. In fact, the young woman had only been back in London for two years, having studied in America at the age of seventeen before returning to pursue a master's degree in England again. After being away for so long!

At present, Sansa is about to graduate with a master's degree within the next month. However, before she could finish, She must organize an art exhibition for her graduation, and it's been almost a month now!

She hasn't been able to find a gallery to showcase her work yet, probably because this is the art festival season held all over London throughout the month. This makes it very difficult for Sansa to find good galleries, as everyone needs a place to display their work!

Sansa thought… this would be the end for her!

The girl picked up her favorite headphones and put them on, selecting her personal playlist. Her right arm held a drawing board, and her left arm carried a bag filled with books that she had just stopped by to buy.

Adding to her own chaos, she picked up her favorite book, which she hadn't finished reading yet, while on a trip to her favorite restaurant in Soho, central London. She is living in her own world, cutting off the chaos from her surroundings—a world full of music, literature, and pleasure that she easily finds from the letters in front.

Sansa stopped in front of Mr. Louis' shop, located on the corner of Soho Street. She always has a table that she likes to sit at—a wall-mounted table, the only one of its kind. Even though there is another table nearby, not too far apart, her table is the most private of all the tables in the restaurant. Miss Louise always prepared this table for she when she needed it.

'He is the kindest,' she admired the shop owner.

The young woman walked towards her usual table, ready to read books and listen to music. She doesn't usually pay much attention to her surroundings, tending to only care about things that she wants to care about. Everything else is just the air or atmosphere around her.

She placed a drawing board next to the wall, always choosing to sit in the chair on the left. Checking, putting away her headphones, and hanging her bag next to the chair, she picked up the book she had left reading, placing it on the table to wait for further reading.

Sansa noticed that at the table next to her, there was a group of people sitting, but she didn't care much about them. She even got annoyed because she felt a little uncomfortable not being able to sit in private in this area alone.

Before Mr. Louis walked in to welcome her,

"Hello, Sansa," he smiled at the girl as always.

"Hello, Miss Louis."

"How are you today?"

Ah, the expression on her face probably says it all.

"Pretty bad. Many things are not in my favor today," she replied with a sad expression.

"Oh, is there anything in this store that will help you feel better? Do you want it as usual?"

She smiled back at the man around her father’s age who owned the shop.

"Then I’d like a cheeseburger as usual. This time, I’d like something juicy, and I’d like a chocolate milkshake with cheese," she said, winking at him like a close friend.

Sansa really likes the cheeseburgers here. They're so delicious you’ll be begging for you life!

"Sure. I’ll inform the chef to prepare a cheeseburger. The juiciest and most special for you. Wait twenty to thirty minutes, and in a moment, we’ll bring you a milkshake."

"Thank you,"

she thought, even though today was a bad day! At least, she got to eat something delicious to comfort herself!

After finishing ordering food, Sansa picked up the book and continued reading. She likes to read books very much. It’s like it’s her thirty-third organ. The more she reads, the more she enjoys the story. Books often make her feel like she’s immersed in the writing.

"Hello,"

Sansa looked up slightly at the owner of the voice.

"Hello," she replied and continued reading!

"I’m Tom."

The young man introduced himself. Sansa looked up at him again. Tom is considered to be a good-looking man, and his demeanor seems like that of a good-natured person.

She smiled at him but didn’t reply. Pretty bad manners, right? But yes! Sansa doesn’t want to continue talking to Tom. She just wanted to read a book quietly, only by herself!

“What is your name?”

Damn it! She thought, these men! You really are such a pushover. Sigh!… She probably have to respond politely.

“Sansa.”

“I saw you walking with a drawing board. Are you an artist, Sansa?”

“I’m an art major.”

Before she lowered her head and continued reading her book. ‘Shit,’ She thought to herself. She’s not good at talking. It was always difficult for her.

“Oh…wow, that’s really great.” Tom didn’t seem to relent.

“I really want to see your work. Can I have your IG so I can follow your work?”

She thought for a moment before answering him,

“I’m sorry. I don’t use social media.”

Tom’s face looked disappointed. “Then can I have your number instead?”

What is this!? Sansa cursed in thought.

“I only have my personal number, and I still want it to be private. I can’t give it to you; I’m sorry.”

Tom’s face was now extremely disappointed. Before Tom got up, preparing to walk back to his table. “You are very beautiful.”

Tom turned around and spoke before walking away from her table…

Sansa didn’t feel a thing at the compliment. She just kept her head down and continued reading. Because this wasn’t the first time she had encountered a situation like this. And she really doesn’t like it!! From an event just a moment ago, this made she feel a bit uneasy after being interrupted from reading and made her not in the mood to read further.

The young woman took off her leather jacket before folding it thick, then put it on the back. Then, she took out the curling iron, shook and spread it around before leaning back in the chair and relaxing. She raised her face to the soft afternoon sunlight, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes… picking up the book and putting it down to rest her eyes from the light that shines in. And now, her mind is calmer…

On another side, four young men were drinking coffee and talking about the job they had just interviewed for today.

“How was your film interview today, Cillian?” a fellow screenwriter asked, a forty-six-year-old young actor.

“Excellent,” he replied.

While Cillian was talking with his screenwriter friend Steve, his eyes caught sight of a woman! ‘Wow, what a beautiful woman!’

he thought. She had large, bright green eyes, long eyelashes, dark, well-lined eyebrows, a curved nose that complemented her sharp jaw, full, pink lips, slender and chubby. That sharp face fits perfectly with hair that is loosely tied. And there was a small tangled strand of hair. It fell down on her left cheek, making her look so strikingly beautiful that he had to turn and look!

Cillian saw her carrying a pile of things. One hand holding a book, another person holds a large chalkboard. She also had headphones over her ears. He noticed that she wasn't looking or paying attention to anything around her, and he thought that she should definitely come sit at the empty table next to his! Personally, he didn’t want anyone to sit at that table because it will give him and his friends more privacy.

But it’s okay!! It would be good if she came and sat. ‘Because she is quite beautiful.’ That made him feel somewhat satisfied.

The older male actor occasionally glanced at the unknown woman but didn’t pay much attention to her until a man walked up to her.

‘Is he going to be her boyfriend?’ Cillian thought.

His and hers’ tables were not too far apart, allowing him to hear their conversation. And from the conversation, Cillian then knew… that the young man just came to flirt with her. He was quite surprised at the young woman’s expression. Plus, she acted clearly bored. She could deny that young man almost every sentence. If he were that man, he would have given up.

Cillian was surprised when she said that she doesn’t use social media. It was strange for a woman her age that most people are addicted to social media. She refused to give the man her number with the most ingenious reason, he thought, ‘Her are very clever.’

Before he returned to chatting with his tablemates. But then… ‘Fuck?!’ She took off that black leather jacket! His and his tablemates’ eyes immediately turned towards her.

Damn it! He didn’t want to look at all, but he really couldn’t help but glance at the position of the girl and him. It makes the two of them look like they’re sitting next to each other, probably only an arm’s length apart. Making him see her clearly! Her skin is white and smooth, contrasting with the black strapless, making it even more interesting to look at. Her figure is just as beautiful, with her face, especially when she unwrapped her hair and spread it out.

‘Damn!’ he thought, this was one of the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. Her side view was strikingly beautiful. Her nose was high and slender, sharply contrasting with her jaw. He swallowed. Can’t stop glancing at this beautiful young woman!!!

She stimulated him even more when he smelled a faint scent, soft and sweet. He had never smelled anything like this before.

It’s so mysteriously fascinating?

Cillian thought. This girl is quite interesting. Not from her face or figure, but it’s her personality that doesn’t seem to care about anything. She fell asleep in the middle of the restaurant, took the book and covered her face. It’s like there’s only her in this area. She didn’t even turn to look or pay attention to their table, which really made him feel at ease.

He’s starting to like her!!

#cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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PLEASE READ

LET'S TALK, I've done this rant before but it seems people can't take a hint. Thought I'm grateful to receive attention, I think people need to learn the, ever so shocking truth.. that writers are people?!

Each time I release a fic, which is practically every day, I get my asks filled with requests, which is bothersome already, but it quite upsets me because in my pinned, it says and clearly states that my requests are closed. Not to mention that, you can clearly see that people legitimately don't read my pinned or rules when they send these requests (Yes I can tell, it's not that hard) and or the requests come off demanding, so instead of a request it sounds like an order.

Now you may be thinking, "Cupid, can't you just delete the requests?" To that I answer, yes and I have but you fail to see how this impacts me. I'm actually online, almost always and I do see your asks when you send them, but these sort of requests have deflated me to the point where I legit cant write anymore and or have the energy to talk with anyone. If you were to check my tumblr status, it would always say I'm online right now however, because of this happening frequently, it's ruining my personal tumblr experience and I've been here for about an year and have dealt with quite difficult situations, but it has never made me feel this bad.

Because, this shows how much respect an average fanfic writer lacks, please be kind to your writers and be polite when you requests, where artists are praised for their talent (They deserve all of it, I'm serious my artist friends have hands of God I tell you) and meme's/incorrect quote posts are almost always at the top of the tags with quite little effort compared to writing (I'm using the term compared, specifying this since people always find a way to cause a scene) and praised for being funny. Writer's are quite on the shelf when you think about it.

When requesting an art piece that is free, people make sure to ask rather politely and most of the times, they have something nice to say to the artist, once again they deserve it but compared to a writer who keeps requests open, even if they do commissions. We still lack this sort of respect, were providing free content, but it's much less appreciated then other things.

Let me provide another point, from my most popular deuce fic is a crackfic of Deuce discovering chocolate milk, didn't come from brown cows and my latest one is this a yandere fic with a wordcount of 2k, crackfics which took little to no effort on my part, is much more popular than a fic which I spent serious time and effort on. (Both are x readers)

And if that wasn't enough, let's touch the aspect of reblogs a bit.. (Reblogs are what help get posts on the top of tags and or attention in general) I've seen multiple blogs, which reblogged incorrect quote's and maybe even art (Mostly just twst incorrect quotes), but they don't reblog other works, (I'm not attacking meme blogs, they're funny as hell) but If you like something you should reblog it! (Including art), please I've seen many many good writers, fall down hill just because they don't get that attention, since they're so new! Hell I have side blogs other then my spam, in which I reblog a lot of writers & artists works, sometimes I'll reblog a particular post 5 times!

Since I'm going the rabit hole of everything wrong with how writers are treated compared to other contributors in fandoms.. new writers have to deal with ass, I was a new writer at one point, and I've had many side blogs that I do not share on my main blog, and I do not connect the two together. AND LET ME TELL YOU.. You have not seen disrespect when it comes to requests and asks, unless you are a new writer in huge and medium sized fandoms, small ones give you least amount of attention but they appreciate you since well the fandoms so dry of content!

Also nsfw writers, let's talk about them. (I'm not a Nsfw writer but I'm friends with a lot of them, and no I do not read adult blogs content, I only read their fluff, I respect that mdni sign with all my heart) JUST BECAUSE THEY WRITE NSFW DOESNT MEAN THEY'RE A PEDO, just because A WRITER IS 18 AND LIKES A CHARACTER WHO'S 17 DOES NOT MAKE THEM A PEDO, It's fictional, someone I knew got called a Pedo all over for liking Azul as a 18 year old, and they only wrote fluff for him. And also, just because they write Nsfw is not a valid reason to attack them, now if they wrote shotacon and you know things that generally is wrong then there is a reasonable reason to call them out? But when you attack someone for writing nsfw in general, and or hate of them for that. It's stupid, I've seen so many users genuinely hurt by the hate, and others play it off, but it really shouldn't be played off! Also by doing this, it takes away from the actual impact of the word pedo, it's a sensitive topic don't throw it around. Also on that note, many Nsfw writers are actually asexual! (From blogs I've seen in the past, and people I've met) so.. keep that in mind.

I'm beginning to see how off topic I went in this rant, but it's been eating me alive not talking about it. So let's talk about it.. If your against me in any part of this, and have an actual valid argument please feel free to inbox me about it, I know I may be in the wrong, it's just what I've personally seen and want to say, but I'd be more than happy to correct it, if I'm in the wrong. If I do get hate for mentioning this then I'll ignore you. (Most likely, unless I feel the need to add onto something or provide input/context to your ask)

Happy reading, enjoy your night/day!

EDIT: Just found out quick reblogging exists, what is your excuse now, like I'm genuinely asking. If reblogging hurts your precious aesthetic (I say, as I'm a very aesthetic oriented person.. make a side blog!)

#— important #— announcement

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bisexual-horror-fan · 9 months

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Omg Bexxx!!!! Been a fan for the longest time. Everything you write is just so hot! Ive been dying for an update on Through The Heart Is The Only Way.! My roomie showed me how to jailbreak ChatGPT and I fed it the whole fic and the little preview and the AI was able to finish the fic for me!! IT WAS SO GOOD!!! If you're still having trouble writing the next chapter you should def try using it to help you finish!! <3

Wow. Okay. So. Hi there Anon.

I dunno where to even start with this.

So you say you are a really big fan of mine, and have been for a while. So where were you when I reblogged this post? Talking in depth about people plugging fanfic into ChatGTP, and me wholeheartedly agreeing that it is fucked up. Oh! Or how about this time? Or this one? Orrr this one? This one too. I said in the tags of those posts if anyone does this to me I am going to riot, so get ready for a fucking riot.

I have posted and reblogged several, SEVERAL TIMES, that I am not okay with and do not consent to this shit. I will repeat now, with my whole fucking chest, so the fucking nosebleed seats can hear me, like a goddamned theater kid trying to impress a broadway talent scout level of volume, straight up BELTING TO THE BACK ROW-

I AM NOT OKAY WITH AND DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WRITING, TO MY ART, BEING PUT INTO AI PROGRAMS!

This is just, so far removed, I don’t know why you would think this is even remotely okay!

I write for the love of the game, for the sheer love of CREATION ITSELF! Do you understand how much my writing and love for it and the media these characters are in and those same characters themselves permeate my thoughts? My days? I pour so much care and thought and effort into my shit behind the scenes. Hours and hours of thought and parsing, re-watching, writing that you don’t see and I do it not because I am getting money, not for likes, or comments or followers but because I fucking LOVE it. The urge in me is literally uncontrollable to do this. I feel proud of what I do! Do you have the smallest conception of the time, effort, blood, sweat, hours of sleep lost to my craft and this hobby that gives me creative satisfaction? I do NOT want this discounted or tramped on or heaven forbid forgotten.

How about we really break this down so you understand it. Let’s do some math.

Through The Heart Is The Only Way has not gotten an update innnn a little over two months, sixty four days to be exact. But. How much writing have I posted in that time since I last updated that fic, the last chapter of which was, if you remember, is twelve THOUSAND words? I have posted, in the past sixty four days, since that last update, thirty eight thousand words.

Wow! That is a lot of words for slightly over two months!

It is almost like I care so much about TTHITOW that I am purposefully taking my time with it, not rushing it and writing it when the inspo grabs me by the fucking ovaries and will not let go. I re-watched the entire movie franchise and the tv series for this fic, I have a doc with piles of ideas and character study, I have chapter ten plotted, outlined and had it started! But shit like this?

It doesn’t make me want to write it Anon.

It is demoralising.

I feel disrespected as fuck right now.

I KNOW what I am doing with this fic, I KNOW where it is going, I have the ending already planned, we are about half way through this fic AT BEST! I have probably another over sixty thousand words in me to tell this story the way I want to but knowing me? Definitely more. The fact that you think the only reason this fic isn’t updated more frequently or isn’t done yet is through lack of thought, from not knowing where to go? Is insulting as fuck. Me taking my time with this fic doesn’t mean I don’t care, it doesn’t mean I am not obsessed with it or love it. Frankly, it means the opposite, me dragging this out is because I love it so fucking much and I want to do it right.

I have a ton of love for lots of movies, lots of characters, I want to give them all attention, I want to follow my muse, I don’t want to FORCE myself to write something when the mood isn’t right. The readers deserve better but so DO I! This is my love, this is my hobby, I want to do it my fucking way, because I guaran-FUCKING-tee, that whatever the fuck ChatGTP pumped out for you is a weak, pale, pathetic, whisper of a God forsaken SHADOW of what I have planned to unleash for this fics ending.

I know that a lot of people look down at sexual content which is what 99% of what I do is. Lots of people view it as base, lesser, shallow, no care or thought or heart. That is not the fucking case, certainly not for me. Sex has deep personal meaning to me dude, I CHOOSE, actively make the decision to write and do these fics in the fashion I do. I write these character explorations and studies centered around sex and sexuality and write them through that lens because that is what I want to do, that is what speaks to me, that is what is important to ME and what I want to contribute to the fandom space.

I am human. I write to an inhuman degree, (remember last week when I posted three fics, totaling over eight thousand words in one day? Crazy that still isn’t enough somehow and you felt the need to do this-) but I am still a fucking person. I am an artist, a writer, an author and I deserve the most basic respect of my supposed “FANS” patience and ability to WAIT. That is the barest minimum. I write so often, I give so much of myself to it but some days I just want to come home from work and watch a movie. I want to have a bath, I want to cook or bake or spend time with my husband and those times, those breaks, make my writing all the better. My writing, all writing that is worth a damn, is inspired and pulled from real life experiences, hence why AI writing sucks, there is no actual life experience or interpretation, no fucking soul. All it is capable of doing is vomiting back out what is put into it and the idea that my shit is in there, that you took my writing and it is contributing to that writhing mass of technological horror that is doing this to countless other artists and writers? It is genuinely fucking upsetting.

I am so unbelievably mad it is insane.

This was so gross, never do this again, to me or anyone else. And if you ask what to do when you are having trouble waiting for a fic? How about you leave some detailed comments? Try to talk to the author? I bet that most would LOVE to be talked to and asked about their fics, they are the prime people who want to talk about this shit, they are writing the fucking fic, clearly have a lot of love for it and get it, and also if you talk to them about it and show interest it might kick start their inspo again which means you will get that real and authentic update from the artist themselves. Also. Re-read, just re-read or explore more new fic, like me for instance, I have, again posted over ONE MILLION WORDS IN THREE YEARS OF POSTING! I have so much backlog, go read some of that while you wait for the updates man fucksake.

I don’t want to hear this is too harsh, I don’t want to hear this is too mean, I do not fucking give a singular goddamned shit at all. You fucked up here hard Anon, take a good look at yourself and do fucking better.

And in case it wasn't obvious, my writing? Isn't for you, not anymore.

#I literally cannot BELIEVE YOU ANON #The fucking BALLS on you #Like WOW #I know I usually try to be nice or calm or measured but this is SO fucked up #Never do this again to me or anyone #Full scorched Earth #Like this is legit heartbreaking #How dare you attach this to my baby to my long fic over year long passion project #My GOD #THE AUDACITY #BHF asks #I am sickened

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vintagelacerosette · 10 months

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Tag game catch up ✨️

I'm doing some tag games & picrews I've missed 🫶🏼 and I was tagged by these dearhearts Macy @celestialmickey Cross @crossmydna Evie @energievie Laurel @lupeloto Anna @rereadanon Ling @lingy910y Cherry @too-schoolforcool Ajax @transmickey Lyle @milkovetti Vey @look-i-love-u Coralie @shinygalaxyperson Becki @francesrose3 Ri @tanktopgallavich Jay @surviving-maybe Michelle @michellemisfit Deanna @deedala Julissa @heymrspatel Paola @mishervellous Melodie @sirrudo Thanks y'all 🥰

Name: Myn

Pronouns: She/they

Where do you call home? Sydney

Favourite animal: Cats, ducks & otters i can't choose ��‍⬛️🦆🦦

Cereal of choice: Gosh I love american cereal I gotta say I'm now a cinammon toast crunch fiend & lucky charms used to be my fave haha

Are you a visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner? Kinaesthetic/visual

First pet? A tank of fishes but I also count a black & white stray cat we took in which we named Gato & oh how i miss him

Favourite scent? Something woodsy or citrusy

Do you believe in astrology? Kinda like I believe some aspects but wouldn't take it so literally in life

How many playlists do you have on spotify/apple music? I'm not one for playlists but I do have like 8 music ones on youtube lol

Sharpies or highlighters? Hightlighters all the colours yall 🌈

A song that makes you cry:

A song that makes you happy:

and finally, do you write/draw/create? if so, use this as an opportunity to shamelessly (😉) promote yourself! Yes I draw & make crafts which you can check out on my tag myn's art 💘 I also definetly gunning to write fic omg the amount of gallavich plot bunnies I have may be in the double digits??

Picrew 1

Last week tag game tuesday ✨️

Name: Shermyn

Age: 26 (27 in 12 day!!!)

Favorite color: Pink

Beverage of choice: Yukult I shot em back like shots lmao

Do you have push notifications turned on for tumblr? I do & for some ppl's blogs too. It can be a lot lol

Opinion on fireworks? Pretty & loud 🎆

Favourite childhood toy? This stuffed bunny I had since I was a kid which I use play pretend like they were real & to pet it so softly 🥰

The store you shop at the most: uhhh maybe ubereats lol does that count 😅

Do you swear a lot? As an aussie fuck is like a brother to me

Favourite trope: Sexual attraction at first sight then falling in love

An album with no skips: Infinity on High by fall out boy

If you could play any instrument, what would you choose? something whimiscal maybe a lyra or ocarina or a steel drum

Your biggest pet peeve: Getting told I'm being disrespectful bc I have a tone that was 'hard'

Favourite time of day: Sunset

and finally, did you drink water today? Yes indeed!

Picrew 2

I'll still tag some loves if they wanna play 💘 @ian-galagher @scarcrosseduntouched @bekkachaos @sisitrip @darthvaders-wife @suchagallabitch @iansw0rld @arrowflier @milkmaidovich @auds-and-evens @callivich @mikhailoisbaby @creepkinginc @mikcrymilkovich @sleepyfacetoughguy @suzy-queued @gardenerian @sickness-health-all-that-shit @stocious @shameless-notashamed @mmmichyyy @xninetiestrendx @intotheblindinglight @skies-below @notherenewjersey @psychicskulldamage @silvanshadow

#tag game #picrew #Spotify

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descole · 1 year

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fandoms are so entitled now like in all my years of talking to other online freaks about fiction that i enjoy ive never seen a time where people were so entitled. Obvs you can have your headcanons, your comfort characters, write your fics or whatvere you like but at the end of the day you’re taking in someone else’s art and story. the story wasn’t made for your wants in mind, it’s not a story that popped out of nowhere either it’s quite literally someone else’s creation that they’re willing to show with you, your job is just to watch/read it. it’s still art so obviously your perception is an important part of the viewing experience too, (if that makes sense, im not smart sorry!) but there’s definitely a line like no you don’t understand how to write these characters better than the writers do because they’re not your characters that you came up with in your head like god damn my god stop embarrassing me in front of the professional writers with jobs.

i guees how we got to this point is that were so easily connected online and(for lack of a better term but you get it)nerd culture is more mainstream now so fandom spaces are huge now, and that means the odds of finding someone else who perceives a character the same way you do is much larger until there becomes the problem - widely accepted canon headcanons that actually dont mean shit to the people involved with the source material but enough people feel it should be canon so now they think the writers are obligated to follow popular demand, or at least what the complaining party believes is popular demand. idk some of you sillies can write your own stories if you want you really want to, but stop being disrespectful to someone else’s art. (And just because money is being made from it, doesn’t mean its not real art! stop acting like movies and television are not an art form :) give the writers with jobs the same respect you would give to fic authors. also be for real

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crusherthedoctor · 6 months

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It really is not just annoying, but also somewhat sad, that IDW characters can never have a meaty role without shamelessly upstaging a game character. It's the ultimate play of insecurity.

Tangle gets touted as the Sonic Female of All Time while the crewmembers drag the game females through the mud.

Whisper gets randomly fawned over by Silver and Jet of all guys.

Lanolin humiliates Silver and treats him like a child.

Rough and Tumble are too much for Cream the OP to handle.

Starline was hyped up for an extended period as Eggman's superior (no, his final fate did not undo sitting through his agonizing "Sonic VS Eggman is routine" soapboxing).

Surge is being hyped up for even longer as the most badass villain and the most badass character period, despite having absolutely nothing of merit to show for it.

Is it really that hard to find a middle ground? I get you want your character(s) to do big things and be a legitimate part of the cast instead of sitting in the background with their thumbs twiddling, but this is not the way to do it. Trip was only recently introduced to the series, and she found her place just fine. She didn't need to effortlessly beat up Sonic in concept art in order to earn her stripes. She didn't need her creators to brag that she would improve Forces through her mere presence in order to cement her value.

Look. I talk a lot about Trudy. I talk a lot about her role in my fic, her interactions, her dynamics, her abilities, her quirks, all that good stuff. I take her role in the story quite seriously, and in an age where it's become taboo to have your OC do literally anything with the game cast (because overcorrection), I've stuck to my guns and made her a big part of the fic.

But - and this is a big but - none of this comes at the cost of the other characters, or the story as a whole. Sonic is still Sonic, and acts as you'd expect from him. Tails is still Tails, and isn't dismissed by the narrative as a mere sidekick to prop up Trudy as the "true" hero by comparison. Amy is still her bubbly self, not morphed into a Sally clone. Cream is still capable, despite her youth and innocence, and her bond with Trudy doesn't reduce her to literal baby. Eggman treats Trudy no differently from the rest of the cast, and he sure as hell doesn't show any fear at the prospect of facing her. Stellar is not little more than The Trudy Show: it's Sonic's latest adventure in a new land that Trudy happens to be tagging along for, and how he leaves an impression on her. Just like Unleashed did with Chip, and Secret Rings did with Shahra, among other examples.

Even Sonudis, for as Never Going To Happen In Canon For Very Obvious Reasons as it is, is still made with the mentality of not only what Sonic himself is actually like in canon, but the others too. It's not a shallow bait that exists solely to exist, it's something I took seriously in regards to how it could potentially work without sacrificing Sonic's official characterization. Is it a fanfic cliche? Is it self-indulgent? Maybe, but writing fanfic in general is inherently self-indulgent. The sooner you accept that, the better. But as fanfic-y as some concepts may be, I still try to portray them as naturally and as faithfully as I can in respect to the games that spawned this franchise. That includes not reducing Sonic to a lap dog with no independence or backbone.

You can make your character important, and even give them a risky role if you're daring, without disrespecting the game cast and what they contribute to the franchise.

#Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 11 months

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regarding ai as a fic writer

hello my name is unit 4402. i don't like to take my tactical gear off but you can recognize me by how i'm going to punt ai into the sun

this has been a common topic on tumblr but i figured i'd make a post about it as a heads up + info for anyone out of the loop

this blog is against ai scraping fanwork without consent. DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO AI ALGORITHMS.

my current plans below

can i use your work for ai to create a new story? fuck no. that's plagiarism and incredibly disrespectful to the author of any fanfic, not just me. fanfic is a labor of love, not replaceable content. please do not feed my work into ai algorithms.

can i use your unfinished work for ai to finish? fuck no. that's also plagiarism and disrespectful to my time and effort. please do not feed my work into ai algorithms.

but i really liked what you wrote and want to read more: then feel free to talk to me! i love asks and i love messages. i will ramble for hours if you let me. trust me, fanfic writers love when someone lets them indulge in their headcanons or ideas, even if they don't plan on writing them out into fic. and tbh? complimenting a fic writer can sometimes inspire them to write more

[from anon] can i write something myself inspired by your work? yes! i’m flattered to hear that i inspired you! as long as your work doesn’t actually copy mine, such as copy/pasting. if it directly references or uses elements of my fic, please credit me. i’d love to see what you come up with!

can i share your work with others? yes. my only accounts that i post fic on are this tumblr and my ao3. feel free to send my work around to friends, discord servers, twitter, etc as long as my name/links are still attached. i want credit for the time and effort i put into writing

can i post your work on other sites (wattpad, ff.net, etc)? send me a message for permission. please do not crosspost/upload my work to other sites without my permission.

my question wasn't answered: you can message me or send an ask with your question and i'll respond soon

why is ai scraping such a big deal? it's art/writing theft on a massive scale to ultimately make a blander, loveless product from fanwork. plagarism is rampant because of how unmonitored ai scraping is, especially now that bots like chatgpt that use common crawl are confirmed to use ao3 and other fanfic sites as sources. some fans also frown on ai-written fanwork because it's being passed off as completely original work from a human when it's actually a regurgitation of prewritten ideas. there's a lot of reading to do on the subject especially in fan communities such as tumblr/twitter/reddit/etc. send me an ask/message if you want me to elaborate

thanks for your patience everyone. ai scraping is a shitty situation and i appreciate your understanding

#unit 4402 reporting #navigation #rules

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touyaspeach · 11 months

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"But Lili how do I support an artist without paying money?" You might say. Or, "I found it on pinterest with no source." Or "I don't feel like reverse image searching to find the original."

Let me kindly give you a few options.

1. You can support artists for free by reblogging and sharing their work. Liking posts doesn't mean anything on this site, if you want to support someone, you HAVE to reblog.

2. If you find art you like with no source, there are a plethora of reverse image search engines that you can upload the art to and find the original.

"But what do I do then?"

Well, first look and see if the artist allows reposts of their work. It's almost always explicitly stated in the artist's bio. If they do, then ask them if you can crop it for your purposes or ask them if you can use it for your purposes. If they don't, then respect their wishes and do not repost the art or use the art for your blog or fanfic.

If the artist doesn't speak your language then err on the side of caution and just don't use the art.

3. If you don't feel like spending 3 minutes searching for an original then don't use the artwork. It's very simple.

It's so disrespectful when people use stolen work for a number of reasons, and I've seen these same writers turn around and make a stink when their writing gets reposted to wattpad. But think it's still okay to use stolen and unsourced art for their purposes.

"Lili, I saw someone use a stolen fanart for their fic banner and I don't know what to do."

You can report them, or you can send them an ask or a message about it.

Never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence, or something, right? I'd like to give these people the benefit of the doubt and say that don't realize it's wrong. So reaching out a gentle hand could be helpful.

Anyway please stop it's driving me insane and killing my willingness to make content because I'm worried that someone will use it without permission. Thanks.

#sweet talkin #bitchin

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kindlistener · 18 days

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(The meme is not by me.)

If you fancy learning more about me and my writing, feel free to venture below the cut.

KindListener/ArcaneChariot are the main usernames I go by on Tumblr/AO3/X/etc.

I write for many, many, many pairings, such as; Borsalino/Taro Midori (OC), Cap Hatfield/Theodore Stanhope (OC), Don Pierce/Kurt Ackerman (OC), Dorian Grey/Basil Hallward, Eli Klaber/Stephan Wolff (OC), Shang Tsung/Liu Kang, The Corinthian/Alistair Moreau (OC), Viktor Vector/V as well as a whole bunch of /Reader stuff and that's just scratching the surface! Recently, I've been writing Henry Christmas/FTM!Reader/George Moody, Herbie (Gypsy)/M!Reader, Nicky Frazer/M!Reader, Tristan Farnon/Gordon Abram (OC) and other pairings involving Petey characters.

Honestly, I don't read all that much that isn't my work because I'm usually writing, studying or planning to write.

I've always been a writer, even back before I was on the internet, back in the olden days. 👴🏻👴🏻 I once made a TA cry after I unknowingly wrote a gorefic when I was 11. I still feel bad about that...

The first fic I wrote and posted was actually a gift for my brother. It was a Dorian Grey fic because we were both into the movie at the time.

My favourite fic is difficult. I've written a lot that I'm very proud of, such as this Don Pierce fic, this Miracle Guy fic (don't knock it til you try it) and my most recent Trissy fic. But, honestly, I take pride in my art and I try to give people the best content possible.

I couldn't really say which one has been my hardest fic. Honestly, I just kind of give the fic a starting point and some themes/plot-beats and then I let it run it's course. The hardest, I suppose, might be 'The Angel and the Preacher' because it made me question my own spirituality and morality which was quite intense.

Hmm... Research... Honestly probably either 'Safe Haven' or 'The Angel and the Preacher' because you may not realise it but there's a lot to giving birth/being a priest who struggles with his faith/etc. I remember watching so many videos on labour and giving birth and just frantically writing down notes. Still, they were interesting fics to write.

Honestly, the fics most near and dear to my heart tend to be ones I work on with friends; whether that be RPs (like I've done with @the-broken-quill and Lu) or fics that have had art drawn in tandem (like 'The Angel and the Preacher' with @bludpudding's beautiful, beautiful stained glass artwork). I really like sharing my hyperfixes with my friends and making art together. 💛💛

My favourite trope (if you could call it that) would probably be writing trans/intersex characters, usually FTM. As a FTM person myself, I can write from the perspective of a trans person (of course, not all experiences are the same but I tell it from my perspective) and I enjoy getting to get those thoughts and feelings down on paper because it's definitely not represented enough in the fanfic community. However, if we're talking about kinks and things that tend to come up in my work, it'd probably be giving oral or face-fucking or like a daddy kink or something. ISAOJVISAJVVUSDJ

This is detailed on my Caard but I don't write straight, necro, rape, scat or underage content (even though I've been asked to write these previously). F/M content; I don't write straight stuff because I can't really relate to straight people RIP. Necro; I feel it's disrespectful. Underage; just no. Scat; is gross (sorry, scat fans). And rape/SA; I have personal experience with so I don't enjoy sexualising/glorifying it. I have written rape recovery stories, like with this Campion fic, but otherwise I can't stand it.

I couldn't tell you about my favourite scene but I do enjoy the scene in this fic where the Second Corinthian returns to the grave of one of his victims and is approached by the victim's brother. It's a scene about redemption and it was really nice, expanding on the Souvenirs comic like that.

I get my inspiration from many different places. Sometimes it just kind of pops in your head and you're suddenly planning out dialogue for a specific scene and sometimes it's just little scenes like this (where Tris is pretending to be a dog and, of course, I get thinking about pet play)...

The hardest scene I ever wrote... It may be the beginning of this fic, where Devon (my OC) gets the idea to pick up a homeless person and dress them up for a gala they're going to, in order to keep themselves from being forced out of their rich family. It's difficult juggling the struggles of not being accepted by your family, disability and homelessness. Of course, none of them are equal and all are horrible issues to have but trying to keep the main character sympathetic in such a situation is definitely difficult.

My favourite characterisation might be in 'Safe Haven'. Seeing Don Pierce go from being this rough, tough mercenary to the caring father of twins was definitely a journey that I had to go on with him.

God, I want to write continuations to so many fics. The first choice would be writing a continuation to 'The Angel and the Preacher', which is in the works but it's a very emotion-heavy work so it requires absolute concentration and I'd be scared of it not being as good as the first chapter. Possibly a sequel to this fic but, again, I'd be scared of it not being as good as the first part.

This is all my OC work ever. Because OCs take a lot of getting used to and a lot of characterisation and a lot of lore-building, I feel like a lot of readers just want something they can pick up and instantly know what's going on. But I'm also guilty of being lazy and not wanting to do all the world-building and character design and lore so I'm just as bad. But, whenever I post a Character/OC work, I'm always scared that my views will go down and that's definitely reflected in my stats. Still, when I do write for my OCs, I really enjoy it.

"Mmmnn... You're not a shark, you're a puppy, but I can work with that. I'll make you the cruelest, most devious mutt at the firm... Soon enough, you'll be able to rip your colleagues apart and you'll thank me for it. Isn't that what you want?" (from an unposted Callahan WIP.)

'WOW that was amazing! the story, the characters and of course the second part. i was giggling and blushing like a little innocent girl. thank you very much it's a great work!' Honestly, it's the little things. People don't have to pour their hearts out to me and gush about my work. Just little comments like that make my day. 🥹🥹

I have so many WIPs and discontinued works, whether that be from just switching hyperfixes or being booted out of a fanbase. 🥲🥲 But, for the most part, I manage to finish my fics, even if it's like getting blood from a stone...

Personally, I'm subscribed to bludpudding, FanFicReader01, QuoteMyFoot and ZeroEchoBravoSeven.

I would recommend some fics but I just spent ages doing the links and Tumblr didn't like it so like just here's the link to my bookmarks. Go wild.

This was really fun! I hope you got something out of this and maybe even added a couple fics to your reading list.

If you got this far, I love you and I hope you have a wonderful day. 💛💛

#on writing

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