softstanwrites - Tumblr blog

softstanwrites · 2 months

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Post about art-theft, AI and tracing of my render:

Unfortunately, one of my renders I made a year ago, was traced, copied, edited by AI by "brothers in arms" store and now sold as a merch aimed towards CoD fandom. They are currently sending this out to various cosplayers asking them to promote it.

As someone who is affected by this, I have to speak up about it.

(post about it on twt & insta)

I found out about it by accident when I saw promoted post on my insta feed. When I started talking about it in my stories, this store sent me a private message saying they had been working on this design for weeks and had never heard of me so they definitely didn't steal anything, and offered me free stuff. When I disagreed with them and sent them files comparing our works, they stopped replying to me, so I continued talking about it again on my insta. Only when my followers started leaving comments under their post saying this is wrong, they decided to continue discussion on the next day.

2. They mentioned that they could have been inspired by some pictures they found on the internet and showed me their "first sketch" of design… which was made by AI.

3. During the conversation, they mentioned that their artist could have based his work on a picture he found on the Internet, but he defended himself by saying that they might not have known it was mine. But even if they didn't know about me, even if they found some fanart on the Internet - it doesn't mean you can copy something detail by detail and sell it as your own. What is most important here, their offer to solve the problem was to give me credits in their design. IF they worked hard on it, why would they want to give me credits? My offer was to remove it.

4. Why do I mention that it could have been done by AI? because many lines are unfinished and a lot of details don't make sense.

5. Below is a comparison of my render that I published on March 18, 2023 with their first sketch they showed me, which apparently they drew themselves:

I am saying this so that the CoD community, which is very large, will be aware of this, because there are many people who have already bought it and after my insta story, they felt bad and said they want return it because they don't want to support art theft.

It's not just about me anymore - it could have happened to anyone who creates fanart and share it on the Internet just for fun. One day someone may use it for their own profit without us being aware of it. It doesn't matter if it's a 3D render or a drawing. All artists in this (or any other) fandom do not deserve to experience such thing, and we need to speak out about it to prevent it from happening in the future.

Reposting fanart is, as this example shows, dangerous and hurtful, so please respect artists and don’t do this. Especially on pinterest.

Their only proposal and offer to give me credits for the work they traced is something I will never agree to.

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softstanwrites · 2 months

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PSA: Tumblr/Wordpress is preparing to start selling our user data to Midjourney and OpenAI.

you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.

to opt out on desktop, click your blog ➡️ blog settings ➡️ scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle.

to opt out on mobile, click your blog ➡️ scroll then click visibility ➡️ toggle opt out option.

if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. but you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)

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softstanwrites · 10 months

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He needs the attention

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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Skz thot incoming bc I saw u asked oops - seven minutes in heaven with Han who’s secret bf so it goes from kissing to him fingering you with a hand over your mouth in like thirty seconds flat

“thank god the bottle landed on me or i would’ve killed myself.”

you roll your eyes and shove your boyfriend, sending him tumbling into the hamper behind him. he’d been on his knees, unsteady already, but you didn’t mean to push him that hard.

“oi, what was that for?” he grumbles, righting the hamper and himself.

“for being so dramatic.”

“i’m not being dramatic! the bottle was this close to landing on minho and then you’d be in this closet with him for seven minutes.”

“yeah, but we wouldn’t be doing anything, ji. the ‘heaven’ part of seven minutes in heaven isn’t guaranteed.”

“yeah but he’d definitely try something,” jisung mutters.

“oh my god.”

“knowing him! c’mon you know i’m right. have you seen yourself?”

you purse your lips. “do you really want to spend all seven minutes arguing over this or do you want to actually put them to good use?”

jisung sighs and pulls you onto his lap.

“for the record, if everyone knew we were dating, i wouldn’t have to worry so much about one of the other boys trying to get in your pants.”

“first of all, weird way to put it. second of all, you know why they can’t know. and third of all, i thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore.”

“i know, i know. i just-”

“so kiss me.”

he does, cradling the back of your head with his hand. he slips his tongue into your mouth the moment you part your lips in a moan. you want to grind down onto him but it’s hard to through the tight pants you’re both wearing.

jisung had chosen leather out of all things.

sensing your frustration, he snakes his free hand down between your bodies to unbutton your pants. it’s still difficult for him to get his hand down them, considering how big it is, but he manages to wiggle it in so that he’s cupping you over your underwear.

“fuck, you’re wet. what’s all this for?”

“you, duh.”

“well i’d hope so,” he scoffs, “but why?”

“you know i get horny when i drink,” you whine. “and this hair color looks so good on you, and your pants are tight in all the right places-”

“shit, you just got even wetter, i can feel it running down my fingers.”

“touch me, ji,” you plead, trying to grind into his hand.

“i got you, baby. let’s just get these pants down a little… there we go.”

your body slumps against his when he slides two of his fingers inside of you. you feel him chuckle and kiss the top of your head before repositioning you so that your back is against his chest.

“i’m surprised you haven’t already jumped me tonight,” jisung admits. “just knowing how turned on you are right now.”

“i have self-control,” you mumble.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing, but if you think it means something then what does that say about your restraint?” the end of your sentence gets cut off because jisung started to move his fingers to shut you up but you know he gets the gist.

“what was that?” he asks.

“fuck you.”

“you already are.”

“i wish i wasn’t.”

“you know that’s not true. just feel how wet you are for me, baby.”

your head lolls back against his shoulder. “fuck, go faster please.”

“that’s what i thought.”

he speeds up and adds a third finger, making you whimper involuntarily.

“shhh, gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers. “can’t let them know what we’re really doing in here.”

“can’t help it…” you choke out.

jisung’s solution is to hold his other hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you’re making. it’s effective, but it only turns you on even more, and you know jisung can feel you tightening around his fingers.

“how many minutes do you think we have left?” he asks, “maybe three?” you nod against his hand. your guess is about the same. “i’ve made you cum in less time. this should be easy.”

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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full of odd things… 🙈

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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butt, hunted.

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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Bang Chan Doing That Move

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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softstanwrites · 11 months

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softstanwrites · 2 years

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i. ghoul!chan x reader

ii. based loosely off of tokyo ghoul, ghouls eat human flesh so…be warned, !!mentions of blood and slightly graphic!!, mentions of death, angst with eventual happy ending

🦋 taglist: @multifcndoms @meowmeowisdaname @h0neydewmoon @snow-pegasus @starlostseungmin @spicyfrogbrain @venustired @chriscentric @l3visbby @lix-ables

Chan’s shaking. He can hear his own blood pumping, head thumping as he falls to his knees in the entryway of his apartment.

His stomach clenches with an intense pain of hunger as he feels himself slowly slipping from reality. The kitchen—he needs to make it to the kitchen.

Chan’s senses are even more heightened in his hungered state, heart rate picking up in fear at the sound of shuffling in the room next to him.

No, no, no—

“Chan is that you,” he hears your voice call from down the hall.

His eyes widen as he takes a shaky breath. Fuck you aren’t supposed to be here—you shouldn’t be here.

In this moment, Chan regrets giving you a key to his place, feeling as his mouth waters at the mere scent of you drifting down the hall. His nails dig painfully against his thighs, trying to hold on to any sense of sanity that he can but it’s slipping and fast.

Chan’s eyes water as he pulls himself up from the floor. He doesn’t want to hurt you. His feet move before his brain can even process what he’s doing, screaming internally for them to stop—to get out of there, but his body doesn’t listen. It’s running on hunger, uncaring of who the victim of that hunger may be.

When Chan rounds the corner he sees you, sitting on the floor of his living room with a couple of take out containers splayed out on the coffee table in front of you. Chan’s nose scrunches in disgust as the smell wafts through the air, masking your scent with its greasy stench. He watches as you stand, stretching your limbs before you turn towards him.

“Your back ear—.”

Your words are cut short as your eyes land on his figure. His heart aches at your terrified expression, watching as you take a step back from him. He can only imagine how he looks right now, eyes no longer a deep brown but instead red with hunger—whites of his eyes no more as they are replaced with a black abyss.

“C-Chan?”

Chan doesn’t move, frozen in place by what little will power he has left. He can leave, he knows he can leave but he’s so hungry. You’re here—a human, in his living room and all Chan can think about is how your flesh would taste compared to what he’s had in his freezer for months.

You’re fresh, something Chan has only ever had the pleasure of tasting once in his early years. He swore to himself he would never do it again but here he was, eyes following your every move like the predator he was.

You trip over his guitar as you stumble back, knocking it over with a loud bang as he begins to stalk towards you. Chan should care but that’s the thing—he’s not himself right now. You cry as you fall to the floor, eyes never leaving his as you try to scoot away from him. Chan bends down, grasping at your ankle to hold you in place but you only cry out in response.

“Stop please,” your voice shakes as you try to kick out of Chan’s hold but he doesn’t release you.

‘Fucking let her go.’

‘Why should I do that?’

‘You love her, you don’t want to hurt her.’

‘She’s meat—fresh meat. Don’t deprive yourself of this any longer.’

Chan groans, releasing your leg from his hold as his hands tangle in his hair.

“Chan?”

Chan hates it. He hates the way you look at him with a visible fear in your eyes. He hates that you aren’t running and he hates himself for not wanting you to run. Chan watches as your shirt slips down your shoulder, exposing your skin fully to him and Chan looses his remaining sanity.

He hears your scream as he pounces on you, arms holding yours down tightly against your body as he straddles your legs. You struggle in his hold, crying out but the only thing Chan can focus on is your flesh—your warm flesh right there in front of him for the taking.

His name is the last thing he hears before the monster finally emerges.

Chan moans against your skin as his teeth sink into your flesh, however, the taste of your blood on his tongue sobers him almost instantly. Instead of wanting to consume you he feels utterly disgusted. It’s as if a bucket of ice water has been poured over him. He feels the way you tremble and sob in his hold, the way your nails dig so harshly into his sides that he’s sure you’ve also drawn blood.

Chan scrambles back suddenly, eyes falling to the nasty bite he’s left on your neck and then hesitantly to your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut, tears streaming down your face as you gasp for air. He releases his grip on you like he’s been burned, falling away from your quivering form as he tries to put distance between the two of you.

“I’m so—fuck y/n I’m so sorry,” he chokes the words out.

He shakes his head as he pulls himself to stand.

“Fuck I’m so sorry I didn’t mean—.”

“Chris.”

He whimpers at way you say his name—so scared and frightened by him, because of him. Chan’s string of apologies don’t stop as he stumbles his way out of the room and continue to fall from his lips even when he’s out of the apartment.

Chan doesn’t stop apologizing as he puts as much distance between himself and you as he can. He will never stop being sorry to you, never stop loathing himself for hurting you—for showing you the one part of himself he wanted to keep hidden.

A week goes by and Chan feels the emptiness of your absence and the weight of his guilt slowly begin to consume him. He doesn’t return to his apartment right away, opting to crash at a close friends place who doesn’t question his distressed state and makes sure that he’s fed properly. Chan has had no contact with you since that night, his phone had long died and he couldn’t bring himself to charge it. He knows there won’t be anything waiting for him anyway. Why would there be?

He couldn’t blame you if you had gone to the authorities and he was currently being hunted. A human and a ghoul? Chan was selfish to think it would last. When he returns to his apartment a couple of days after the incident he half expects the CCG to be waiting at his front door to slaughter him. He thinks he deserves it—no, he knows he does.

He has half a mind to wonder the street, letting his true colors show in hopes that an investigator will stumble upon him and end his suffering, ridding the world of his unwanted existence. Chan doesn’t want to be without you because without you, Chan doesn’t feel normal he just feels like the monster he knows he is.

Without you, Chan doesn’t feel like there is a point to go on.

His apartment is desolate without your warm presence. He’s used to the smell of the takeout he can’t ever stomach and your laughter echoing off the walls. But there’s no crummy take out, no laughter and most importantly, there’s no you.

Something feels off as Chan enters the living room. His guitar is placed back where it once was, room rid of the takeout containers that had been there that night and everything else seemed to be in place. It’s cleaner than what it was when he has left. Chan’s heart jumps when he hears the front door open, body tensed as he listens closely. He hears the scuff of shoes against the linoleum of the entry way and the rustling of a plastic bag.

“If this stuff doesn’t work I’m giving up.”

Chan feels like he’s floating at the sound of your voice carrying from the kitchen.

You’re here, you’re really here. He hears you huff as your footsteps draw closer.

“It’s just blood it shouldn’t be that difficult to—.”

Chan watches as you freeze in the doorway. His eyes flickered to your hands, occupied with cleaning supplies.

“Chan?”

He’s rendered speechless at the sight of you, blinking slightly to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination. Chan doesn’t say anything as the two of you stare at each other. He steps towards you, wanting nothing more than to take you into his arms. However, Chan is harshly reminded of why he can’t do that. His movement falters as he spots the bandage peeking out from beneath the collar of your shirt. A harsh reminder of what he is—of how he hurt you.

Your shock soon turns into something he can’t quite decipher. He watches as your eyes begin to water and Chan thinks he should leave, never to return—never to cause you any hurt ever again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he hangs his head, unable to face the damage he’s caused.

“Y/n I’m—.”

Chan hears the bottles in your hands fall to the floor with a loud thump, and before he realizes it your arms are around him. He freezes under your unexpected touch, unknowing of whether he should reciprocate it or not.

You utter his name through your sobs, grasping onto him as if you were to let go he’d disappear. He feels the weight leave his chest ever so slightly as you meld against him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around your frame.

You jerk back from him suddenly and Chan thinks it’s because of him—that he’s gotten too comfortable having you in his hold after what he’s done. You place your hands on his shoulders making him meet your gaze.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Chan is rendered speechless at the sudden change in your demeanor. He can’t get himself to speak or to meet your gaze any longer.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

You? Worried about him? Maybe Chan already died. Maybe this was all just a dream.

“I don’t understand y/n,” he finds himself whispering out, head thrumming in confusion.

“Don’t understand what?”

“You should hate me!”

Chan’s never raised his voice in front of you, not once. The way you flinch back has his whole world shattering and he immediately apologizes. Despite the tense air surrounding the two of you, you gently squeeze at his shoulder—reminding him that you were still there, that you never left, that you were real.

“I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well I don’t okay?”

He could see the irritation in your features and finally something felt right in this mess.

“At first I was terrified yes—anyone would be.”

Chan’s heart broke as you uttered those words but he understood nonetheless.

“But losing you scared me more.”

Chan’s eyes met yours, his eyes mirroring your own in their glossy state. You took a step closer to him, letting your hands trail from his shoulders to his cheeks.

“I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t find you and I thought—god I thought—,” you cut yourself off as a choked sob left your mouth.

Chan could see that you had a new fear after the truth had been revealed, he could see it in the way your features crumbled. You thought he was dead when in truth, he had wanted to be—wished he was.

“I hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to. I know it’s instinct.”

“I didn’t want to…I tried so hard not to.”

“Baby—.”

“I could’ve—I could have—.”

“Chris stop.”

He only realizes then how much he was shaking.

“I’m a monster. I hurt you—the one person that I love and promised to never harm. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head as you lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“You’re not a monster. You were born this way and I don’t blame you. I just wish you would have told me. I’m not upset and hey— look at me Chan. I’m alive, I’m alive baby it’s okay.”

Chan broke down at that, clutching onto you as he dug his face into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t know how long the two of you stood there, holding one another as you cried.

When Chan pulls back his eyes fall to the bandage poking from beneath the material of your shirt.

“Can I see it?”

You nod as you lead him to the couch, dragging your shirt over your head so that he could see. As carefully as he could, Chan peels the gauze back, revealing the damage he’s caused. A giant bite mark greeted him, one still angrily red but to his relief, healing nicely. Chan’s eyes meet yours, gaze never straying once as he leans down to press soft kisses against your marred skin.

His apologies were unspoken in that moment but clearly stated though his tentative actions. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘I’ll never hurt you again.’

“Do you see now Chan,” your voice called, pulling him out of his trance.

His eyebrows furrowed, “See what.”

“Look at the mark.”

Chan was looking at it, staring right at the risen flesh.

“That’s all it is, a mark.”

Chan’s eyes widened as he looked between the bite and you. That day, he hadn’t consumed any of your flesh. He stopped himself before he could. Chan’s breath was shaky as he exhaled, feeling the tears well once again in his eyes.

“I’ll never hurt you again.”

You didn’t respond as your fingers gently ran through his unruly hair. You didn’t have to say anything.

“How about a bath and then we talk about this. All of this,” you suggest as your eyes hesitantly meet his gaze.

Chan nods, accepting your awaiting hand when you stand from the couch. He knew he would never stop feeling guilty and the scar that marked your shoulder would be a constant reminder to him. Even if you forgave him, Chan couldn’t forgive himself. Maybe with time it would get easier. But he knew as he held your naked body against his in the tub, eyes falling to your shoulder, that he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

Chan didn’t deserve you and he still doesn’t fully understand why you would come back to him. However, when you kiss him, Chan can feel it—that same feeling he’s always carried for you deep within his heart. He knows that even though he’s forgiven, he will still try and do everything to prove himself to be worthy enough to be by your side—worthy enough of your love.

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