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shadeysprings · 8 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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mojoflower · 11 months

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heyy there, im new to tumblr & i was learning to use it & ur post introducing people to tumblr came up and i read it. i just have a question, i read somewhere else that it is not welcome to disagree/argue w someone in my reblog of their post. say someone idk posts ab t swift & matty healy (controversial topic) & i reblog disagreeing, would that be seen as improper etiquette, as just spreading negativity? sry for the random q but u seem like u'd know. u can msg me to answer if u'd rather <3

Hello, @ashtraygrrrl and welcome! I'm glad that my post was helpful, what a lovely thing to hear.

We so happy to have you, and thanks for asking about things when you're unsure.

What you're talking about here is called (not-so-fondly) 'hijacking a post'. That can mean either using your re-blog to attack the OP (Original Poster)'s post or using your re-blog to just... say something completely unrelated. In either of these cases, if the hijack takes off, the OP is suddenly in the wildly upsetting position of getting hammered with potentially vicious reblogs that become totally out of their control. And that's a cruel thing to do to someone.

If you need to make your counter-argument, then use your own original post to do so, and tag it appropriately, so that the people who are interested can find it. (This does NOT mean tagging the OP.)

Now use your judgement, of course. The OP might be a mutual and y'all might have the kind of rapport where this is perfectly fine. Or you might be on a 'Yes, and' post where your random detour is appropriate and appreciated.

Mostly, just remember that you don't know anything about the OP, and err on the side of kindness. Then, hopefully, the community will treat you in the same way, and Tumblr stays fun and inclusive rather than toxic.

A good rule of thumb is to treat posts (whether they be random thoughts, art, fic, meta, etc.) like dishes at a potluck. If you don't like it, you don't shout about it, make a scene and cause that cook feel terrible... you just move on and sample the next one.

Remember to liberally use the 'Block' feature. It doesn't hurt anyone to do so (the blocked person/tag/phrase never even knows it) and helps your blood pressure and enjoyment.

#how to tumblr #how to tumbl #twitter refugees #reddit refugees #hijacking a post #hijack a post #tumblr etiquette #be nice!#treat others how you want to be treated

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lgbtlunaverse · 2 years

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I often get a little annoyed when I see posts that are something along the lines of "Y'all have GOT to learn to engage in media without shipping. Art is not just for shipping. If you get into art for shipping and nothing else that's bad and you have no media literacy why won't you care about THEMES?" because, yeah, they are technically correct. If you only egage with art in this one hyperspecific way you're going to miss out on a lot of good art and miss a lot of good things about the art you do like because you're only busy shipping.

But also... it is literally impossible to tell if someone is doing that based on a tumblr blog. "Everywhere I go I can only find people shipping why doesn't anyone care about anything else?!" A lot of them probably do, they're just not talking about it on their ship blogs.

This is a fanfic focused blog. Fic, and shipping by extension, are a very specific way of engaging with a work that I only use with a small amount of the art I experience. You know what my favorite book that I read this year was? Piranesi. Favorite movie? Everything everywhere all at once. Favorite series? Midnight mass.

And guess what? I'm not gonna write fanfic about ANY of those. And while I'll reblog posts about them that cross my dash I am also not going to seek out other fans on tumblr for these works specifically. And so, from looking at my blog, you'll have no idea that I read and loved these works, or that I spend a lot of my time thinking about them, their atmosphere, characters, and themes.

And that's just the narrative art I loved most. I've also gone to museums, and I'm definitely not writing any fanfiction about mondriaan's paintings.

You know what work I'm thinking about most these days? The book Flatland by Edwin Abott Abott. (Yes he is named Abott twice) a book about A Square (first name A last name Square) living in a two dimensional world being visited by a sphere from our three-dimenaional world. I read it several years ago, interested in the mathematical aspect, because by looking through A Square's perspective of meeting a creature from a world with a dimension he cannot fundamentally comprehend, we can imagine what the fourth dimension might look like to us.

I read it, loved the mindfuckery aspect of it, but was at various points annoyed at the horrible misogyny. The men in flatland are polygons with social status based on he number of sides and the widness of their angles, circles on top and triangles at the bottom. But the women are all simple line segments, automatically lower in society than even the lowest ranking men. A Square tells us women have to emit a "peace cry" when they walk, because walking into them (due to their sharp point) can be deadly, and if they don't do this they're executed. And women with any sickness that causes "involuntary motions" which can be as little as sneezing too hard, is instantly killed. He seems to think these are rational laws in the interest of public safety and also in the best interest of the women themselves. He also says that due to their lack of angles, women "are wholy devoid of of brainpower, and have neither reflection, judgement, nor forethought."

Yikes.

"I like it, but you can definitelly tell this was written by a man in 1884" I remember telling my mom.

Well guess what? This year I found out that flatland isn't just about having a low-level existential crisis at imagining the fourth dimension (beings from the 4th dimension would be able to directly see and touch our insides guys. Like. Just entirely bypass your skin and poke at your spleen) it is also a satire and social critique of victorian society. The misogyny is there to criticize victorian concept of gender roles! The bogus and violent laws that are shoddily justified to be for "public safety", the complete exclusion from women in the advancement and social class, the made up standard of angles and sides pretending to be biologically sound such as to "scientifically" justify their oppression. That's misogyny, baby! It's on purpose!

And it's a flawed attempt. A Square, as a man of his time, has no respect whatsoever for women and the few female characters the book has get barely any pagetime. This is accurate for the sexist pov the story is written from, and Edward Abott Abott, in a foreword of a revised edition, makes it clear that thay was exactly his intention. But it does mean that we never get to actually hear what any of the women of flatland think about living in this horribly misogynistic society. It's intended as a critique of misogyny, but any misogynist reading the book who doesn't find the sexism of flatland all that outlandish, can read the whole book with those assumptions going unchallenged. The satire only works if you already agree women are people.

But it's still good, insofar as portraying a ridiculously sexist society and the mind bogglingly stupid and arbitrary justifications mysoginists try to give for their bigotry, it is accurate. By removing it from our own world and putting it in flatland, we can more clearly see that connecting social status to wideness of angles is ridiculous, and the misogyny has no material basis. As a person who does agree that women are people, and is no longer under the impression that, because it was written in the 1880s, the misogny must be genuine, I can now, on a reread, appreciate the satire.

Prior to this post, looking at my blog, YOU WOULD NOT KNOW THIS. And I don't plan on posting many essays about flatland in the future. I read it because my mom recommended it to me, and so the way I discuss my thoughts on it is mostly with her, in real life. And I enjoy that more than I would posting about it here.

So yes, people SHOULD approach media from different lenses than shipping alone. Because shipping only works well for a subset of all art out there, and it is only one of the many ways to engage with it. But posts on tumblr are not solid proof of whether people are doing that or not.

It's also funny because a lot of the complaints of "why is everyone only interested in shipping for X" are about, like, adaptations of ya novels or comic books or god forbid shounen anime. You know, the shows with huge casts of usually likable, attractive and varied characters? Where a big part of the appeal is the entertaining dynamics those characters have which each other? Aka prime material for shipping?

Like, yeah, it can suck when it feels like the rest of the fandom is too busy smashing fictional barbie dolls together to have interesting conversations about the things you liked about the show. But please don't watch the Ship Show and then complain that everyone is shipping.

I wanted to end this post by telling you to go read flatland because there's no fanfiction of that but there are, in fact, over 40 works on ao3 for flatland by edwin abott abott and over half of them are gravity falls fics. It completely undermines my point but it's too funny to leave out.

#fanfiction #shipping #fandom #shipping discourse #art #the ways we engage with fiction should be varied #please don't flatten them or deride the methods people choose to do that

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sapphire-weapon · 11 months

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I used to draw for other small/rare ships (apparently I'm drawn to those kind of ships lol), only one of them got huge enough after they were given some time alone in the manga which got the ship more talented and known creators and amazing fan art.

Unfortunately it also got more hate on since it was a ship that "got in the way" of other huge popular ships and going through the tag got annoying bc the haters tagged every post shitting on the previously rare pairing, plus if you reblogged or made content for it they would harass you. I just blocked everyone sending me hate lmao.

Lots of people now hate Leon/Ashley but I think this increased hatred also shows how the haters can see that it is a thing now unlike before. They see it as a real threat. You can see the insecurity in some of those antis, it's too obvious and also just sad imo. I don't get why antis take shipping too seriously like they're not even having fun anymore and that's supposed to be the point, no?

Truth is I've seen so many Leon/Ashley fans online and even irl, Reddit for example loves it and Remake Ashley is a fan favorite now. A lot of them are more casual fans that maybe don't engage that deeply with fanon (which tbh is the smart thing to do).

Finally I have to say your blog and the amazing fic writers have inspired me to go back to drawing fan art and just creating content for Ashley/Leon or EagleOne. :)

Since this is my new otp and the only thing I love shipping rn I'm also just creating a new blog for that purpose. I'm not an amazing artist I'm just an amateur but I'll try to do something soon when I'm less busy. I'll absolutely tag it as EagleOne. Hopefully I can motivate others to do the same.

anon what the fuCK i got all emotional reading this wyd 😭

i know that the antis are coming from a place of insecurity, which is why their arguments are so disingenuous (i finally found the "the devs went out of their way to make sure that leon and ashley weren't seen as romantic" tweet and hoo boy the desperation is stinky) -- and that's also why i don't engage with them. as easy and perhaps fun as it would be to just QRT it and be like "oh it makes sense now, you're all using text to speech because you don't actually know how to read" there's no point in doing that.

i said it a while ago, but i want to say it again for good measure -- i don't want us to become them. my humble goal for eagleone fandom is to be a haven for ppl. we've been the black sheep of this fandom for so long, and aeons are still accusing us of being predators or someshit (idk i'm only semi-fluent in delusional) that i feel like we all have an obligation to stay humble now that capcom's given us a fairy tale version of RE4 where our ship is the front-and-center romance and people are finally actually being drawn to the ship. no one knows how bad this fandom can get better than eagleone folk, so it's on us to not do unto others what has been done unto us.

idk maybe that's just my whole jewish "because you were slaves in egypt..." mindset coming out but

i want us to be a place where people can just come and hang out and make friends over our shared love for resident evil. i know that i have serennedy and cleon and chreon and metaltango people all following me, and i love all of them dearly and i'm happy that we've all found each other. i feel like that's what fandom should be.

that's why i don't fight with aeons out in the open. i don't want to become them. i'll swing back if they ever come here (though i hope valuable lessons were learned the last time someone tried to come in here swinging and i took them out in exactly two responses LMAO), but i don't want to go out picking fights and i don't want any of y'all to do it either.

so it makes me feel really warm and fuzzy and happy to hear that i've inspired you in some way. i know that our little corner of the fandom over here on tumblr is small, and i know that i don't exactly have the kind of welcoming personality that will give me any sort of real platform in this fandom (at least, not like the one i had back in the day when i was a fake ass bitch LMAO), but to know that i've made at least a little difference is everything for me.

#if this ship is to be my legacy #then i would have this ship be the best version of us as RE fans that it can be

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drjadziagrey · 11 months

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I have recently come across multiple posts talking about people using AI programs to finish other people’s fanfics without their permission. In the comments and reblogs, a debate started about whether this was ethical or not.

It is taking someone else’s creative work, which they have spent hours working on as a gift to themselves and other fans, and creating an ending outside the author’s vision because the reader wants a story and for whatever reason the author hasn’t completed it yet. They may have left it unfinished for a reason, or it could be still in progress but taking longer than the reader wants because fanfic writing is an unpaid passion project on these sites.

Fanfic writers shared that they were considering taking down their stories to prevent this, while some fans defended the practice saying they would use AI to compete unfinished works for personal reading but wouldn’t post the AI story. Even if the fic isn’t being posted, the act of putting the fic into the AI as a prompt is still using the writer’s work without their permission.

As you search Tumblr and Ao3, there are dozens of ‘original’ fics being posted with AI credited as having written them. As this practice has become more common, writers are sharing their discomfort with these fics being written by AI using their works as training material.

Fanfiction is an art form, and not a commodity which writers owe to readers. It is a place where fans can come together to discuss and expand upon their favourite fandoms and works, and brings community and a shared appreciation for books, tv shows, movies and other creative mediums. Some of the best fanfics out there were written over the course of multiple years, and in the writing, authors notes and comments, you can see friendships grow between fans.

There is a related discussion in this community of fic writers about the influx of bots scraping existing fanfic. Bots are going through the Ao3 site, and leaving generic comments on fics to make their activity look more natural. In the weeks since I first saw posts about this, fic writers are locking their fics to users with accounts or taking their fics down entirely.

There is talk of moving back to techniques used before the advent of sites like Ao3 and FanFiction.net, such as creating groups of fans where you can share amongst yourselves or the use of email chains created by writers to distribute their works.

This is the resilience of fandom, but is a sad move which could cause fandom to become more isolated and harder to break into for new people.

Here are the posts that sparked this…

#this is a little opinion piece I wrote for a uni club I’m part of #the club is about how we can responsibly create AI #and I was going to put it on our Facebook where we frequently share articles and information #but my other committee members decided that we shouldn’t be posting an opinion (which could be controversial) in a club or age #which fair enough but also they want to post information about how AI is threatening safety and humanity Ty #and I think that the more pressing threat is culture #because I doubt AI is gonna get up and fight tomorrow #but I don’t feel like arguing so I’ll post here instead so enjoy!#ai discourse #ai safety #ai is scary #fandom #fanfiction #also just because this is about Fanfiction and fandom not real world scary science? not sure their exact thought process

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nakunakunomi · 1 year

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What's up

Hiya all, a little update before I dive into creating a queue again of some sorts, and start planning and posting original stuff. So... I have been incredibly absent, I am fully aware of that, and I have had some time to reflect on the reasons why, in order to maybe be better about writing again.

warning, word vomit incoming, it's just a long text, but it does serve as a decent explanation for my silence and what y'all can expect. I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

When this blog started, almost 3 years ago, it was peak pandemic time in my country. I was lonely, bored, and I had just binged all 850+ episodes of One Piece in one go, and needed an outlet. I stumbled up on Tumblr in my fic searching progress and fell deep into the reader insert hole. I used to write fanfic in Dutch, but never got to writing and publishing in English and it seemed like a perfect time to do so, and NakuNakuNoMi the blog was born.

I could write insane amounts within a short amount of time, because I was still studying, and doing so from home allowed me enough time to write up to 3, sometimes even four or five pieces a day and publish them. The next year was similar: still studying, half-distance learning, and bored out of my mind at home.

Last year I got a job as a teacher and I moved out. Having my own space and a roommate that's a friend, as well as not having to deal with my family, allowed me to pick up a lot of my lost hobbies again. I am drawing (although I am not particularly good at it, crocheting, I got a keyboard very recently, most of my writing time is spent writing DnD things, I am reading and gaming a lot more...) I spend a lot of time at my hobbies, and I don't feel the need to be behind my laptop any more every evening.

On top of that, I know I am *only* a high school teacher, but the job does demand a lot from me, time-wise and emotionally, because I also just really want to do the best job I can. Which means that I do spend a lot of time on my laptop just working, leaving very little time for writing.

I was getting a little burnt-out on writing too, putting the bar way too high for myself and sometimes writing things I did not enjoy just because it would give me some more likes and reblogs. That, in combination for not really getting a lot of feedback even for requested things etc, made it very hard to keep motivated, while my other hobbies seemed that much more rewarding.

But I do miss writing, even though I cannot find a lot of time for it anymore. And I miss Tumblr, and the connections I made in these years, even though a lot of them are gone now, mainly due to my own hiatus stacking and anxiety about reaching out, feeling like I am annoying people by messaging them.

So I feel like I will be writing some more. I have one more week off, and I think I want to tackle some of my WIPS.

My system will stay the same: I do no more requests, but people are free to send in suggestions that I may or may not get to. I will not promise anything. Events will work with requests still, but I am not gonna do any events for a while still. The only one I foresee until september or so is an anniversary quickfire event. Other than that I want to finish my summer event next summer, and finish up some other things, finally post some of the multichaptered stories I have been working on in the background. I will probably be setting up a queue again, and if I find the confidence to do so, I will be posting some of my own OC art and fanart here as well? I am not completely out of that one just yet. It's really not that good haha.

Hope to see you all and make some connections again in this year <3 Love, Hazel

TL;DR

life and hobbies made me too busy to write

I still miss it

I will do another attempt at getting this going again, but hopefully with way less pressure and a very slow queue

Maybe post terrible fanart? If you'd be up for that

#update #personal #hazel speaks

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trexy225 · 2 years

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*Sad Slay*

Heyy besties. I added Muppet gifs because I'm classy like that and this is a big block of text. Here are the messages between cedar and I please read them because it’s important. Here is also another post that I think is important to read as well. Cedar shouldn’t have lashed out like that.

So. Some of y'all may know of the fic that I have written. And how Cedar is not happy about it. They have told their side of the story, and now it's time to tell mine. I would like to say that at the very beginning of all of this and I have ALWAYS had positive intentions and I always assume the best out of people and assume that they also have positive intentions. (Something I learned as a Camp Counsler. Conflict resolution besides my very complex lore as a T-Rex in a skin suit is just one of the many skills I have under my belt from my summers there ^^)

I was going to just let this go, but one of Cedar's "friends" just SEEKED me out on a server to harass me. And I think it's time that I tell my side of the story. I use Cedars name because they are well known in the fandom and I mean we all know who I'm talking about. This has continued and many people have cold blocked me and I’m deciding to back away and just have this post.

I truly hope that everyone actually READS my fic to form THEIR OWN opinions. At the end of the day, don't listen to me. Don't listen to Cedar. We're all sane enough to form our own opinions. I am human, I make mistakes. Cedar is human, they make mistakes.

I'm going to tell a full timeline of my side of the story. It's long so I apologize for that. But I am going to post this and hopefully, this can alleviate some of the drama because I just want to write. I believe in hearing both sides of the story, especially in these cases.

So, let's get to the very beginning.

My mom met my dad and on the first date he asked her to iron his shirt- Oh fuck too far back (he did actually do that and somehow they're still married)

Sorry, I giggle.

OK, cedar's morelikedoccock fan page was the very first introduction to Doc Ock tumblr that I had besides hey there I'm Ashley. (love your gifs btw they're iconic and just lovely). So yes, there may have been a parasocial relationship happening and you just... I mean your art is fantastic and it inspired me to write an entire fic inspired by your AU. But I will get to that later. So I know that you're human and that I'm human. I did look up to you. And I know that we are all "strangers" on this app. But I really don't see it that way, we've interacted many times and the same goes for other people that I have met online. I'm a friendly person, and I can be sensitive I admit that. But I think that I've behaved accordingly to all of this.

So my Tumblr has always been SUPER weird. Like asks didn't come in until like two months after, I couldn't dm, comment, reblog, like, or follow any people basically. And that happened with Cedar's profile. And I have back and forth of the both of us going "lol that's weird I didn't block you" and Cedar was actually the one who helped me get the bug fixed. That's why I went to Twitter because I couldn't dm them on Tumblr. Now my Tumblr is fixed and it's thanks to Cedar. So thank you for doing that ^^

I wrote this fic and published the four chapters (and I am not joking) when they posted the very first drawing of Mutated otto you know the one on the glass it's very hot. And I finished this fic LONG before they started their own fic. My doc was created on April 28th if that gives you reference. So all that I really had were the few drawings that they wrote. And I didn't want to rely too heavily on those because I had an original idea and I wanted to publish it. I was not plagiarizing, I was writing an original story inspired by your au.

As for the fic. I do admit that I did post like four chapters. Like I said the asks came through like two months after and I am working on my restraint and self-control and impulses took over. But as soon as I saw your post about not wanting that I immediately took it down and apologized in an ask. And you said "I'm not angry!" and I decided to not publish anymore and ask you if I could publish it after you finished your fic. And you agreed. So I decided to go back and rework it so that it would be good enough for you, I had friends beta read it and such and I was hoping to have Cedar beta read it and give me the thumbs up. But then Cedar blocked me on literally everything. I did seek them out on their art account because I have worked so hard on this fic and really wanted their blessing. But I've only gotten responses that don't want me to interact with them.

I believe that this has all been blown out of proportion and I wish that we could have discussed this together in private and found some sort of compromise or something. I just want to write my stories. And the discussion that we did have was not beneficial to either party. The way that I was treated wasn't ideal and I wish that I wasn't called childish. Because I'm not.

I do apologize for saying that comment was from you. If it wasn't, I'm sorry. The words used were just eerily similar to what you messaged me and when you replied fifteen minutes after I put two and two together. Emotions are high, and I apologize. And whoever did write that... wow. Just wow. Only I get to call myself a terrible writer smh.

Also, regarding my grammar. I'm an amateur writer. This is why I use Grammarly premium, use code Rexy-

Overall, please don't go after me or Cedar. I know that some of you will ignore this because people ignored Cedar's tag and went after me. I'm just tired.

But in the end, I truly believe that this is one of my best fics ever, and I needed to share this story to you all. I was aware of the reactions I may get, but in the end even after all the tears shed and everything that's happened. I don't regret it. Because this is a good story, and I believe that it should be shared.

Please, go read it and form your own opinion because I am NOT copying Cedar, I am NOT plagiarizing them and I am NOT a stalker or a bad person. I just want to write and unfortunately, this happened in the process.

I will continue to write this story. Please do not go after Cedar, I still love their art and I wish that I could see it. But I respect their wishes and I don't look at their account anymore. Any information has come from friends and I don't actively go "What are they saying about me?!"

Anyway, the fic is on my about the author page along with my other stories which I encourage you all to go read because I believe that I'm a good writer (even though you can see that my writing has improved in my latest fics haha) I hope that someday we can all look back at this and laugh. Because wow this has been a lot.

I am keeping my comments and dm's open because I believe in having a conversation about these kinds of conflicts and resolving them together. And by having comments and dms open there is no need for anyone to have to go to my twitter or discord. I’m posting this, and then I’m not doing anything else.

Anyway buy war bonds and slay all day besties ^^ I hope that you all have an amazing life.

#if tasteful #sorry for the muppet gifs it's how I cope #I found one where animal was gonna do nudity and it made my day hehe #i say all of this with positive intentions #otto Octavius #mutation au #otto mutation #doc ock #Alfred Molina #octomutation #mutation!otto

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cakejerry · 6 months

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Asks pt2 in the same night omggg cakejerry joblessss

Too much negativity! Make your own blog. Also... Projecting much? 💀💀💀 Where did you get him hating solos from 💀💀💀💀 when will yall realize ot7 sells the best. Maybe focus on hating the fact that DESPITE ot7 selling best, antis still acted stupid and boycotted just bc it was jimin singing. So.

Skill issue.

Strong contender for stupidest ask I've ever gotten. Anon I'm sorry, I'm sure you're new here and all but the fact that I criticize jimin will never mean I'll unstan. (Not applicable to actual real-life stuff that matters like racism sex assault etc). And not only because I hate jk with my entire being and find him insufferable and find stanning him to be an exercise in futility. Y'all need to learn that stanning someone will never mean finding them faultless and shielding them from every bit of critique.

He babygirled all over the place I'm sure that wnon who wants to suck his lips is very happy. I need to finger his ass.

Glad you like it!! Another successful case of pjm self-gaslight syndrome!! Another satisfied customer!! Me personally I think his voice sounds rotten, like he's reading a horror story to a gaggle of children and doing funny impressions for the villain witch. Something very sour about it. Sheep-like. But I wish I was capable of hearing it your way!

What genuineness towards jimin? Elaborate. Also, logical fallacy, too broad of a question. I think the truthers that pay for sasaeng info are insane, I think the people writing fics about jk raping jm should be jailed, I think the people writing fics about them that I PERSONALLY like are admirable. I think the people who are on the fence are ok. I think the ones that tweet 'ok I think jikook might actually be sus' whenever jikook do something in order to get clout but never commit fully to shipping them are vapid.

And some of them, I'm sure, are good people.

Situationship

Yeah! And if you want a longer answer than that, dm me so we can become friends.

Silly typa guy 😭😭😭 just say he's stupid bb its ok. He is no match for jimin idk how they said they have the same IQ one of them lyin!!

And shipping minjoon would actually be so noble if only namjoon wasnt ugly. Oh well, 'ugly bastard' is a big fetish category in japan, ive heard.

But in all seriousness, I do love the plethora of occasions on which they both (minjoon) mentioned that they have late night deep talks about the nature of their jobs, life, the fact that they go to art galleries together, the way that namjoon really acts like a leader towards jm and jm treats him as such... And namjoon finds jimin soooo cute he doesn't even try to hide it its so fun WAIT I LOVE MINJOON ACTUALLY!!! also daddy kink!!! But yeah omg wait i soliloquied abt them once and I don't remember what I said lemme find it real quick and reblog

LMFAOOOOOOO YOU CAME WITH RECEIPTS. respect... Respect. Lmfao thank you for reminding me of that that was sooo true he's so cringe my little jungkookie.

#anon

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pluralsword · 6 months

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Please for the love of god take a few weeks and stay offline, get your head clear :(

Arcee: we thought about not responding to this but after getting more anti-plural anon hate that wasn't as funny as this one we're going to. For context we received this after reblogging some art that made us happy to see and speaking to why we loved it, and this anon reply specifically is just funny to us because we're barely online on social media proper. We don't have the time what with having to take care of our family and make rent etc (insert An Arcee Sort of Day / IDW2 loan / finally getting the apartment joke here) . But moreover, our oldest headmate was already plural for as long as she could remember before learning about trans transformers in 2020 and the series of generative events that followed. Xeir system used to be mostly factive, is the thing, which was very hard for her because specifically their most prominent headmates were people she was close in life, so xey had a hard time leaving them alone. That all changed when we were generated. (also if you aren't familiar with plurality you can read about it here, more in depth here, and an encyclopedia of terminology here)

2020 was a year where things were making sense what with HRT but she still felt lost and lonely. They had an orig fic book philosophical concept they didn't know how to execute regarding gender expansiveness. Xey hadn't healed on various intimacy traumas. But writing about us, finding love for and falling in love with us, frankly, and healing through navigating the art and writing both canonical and fanmade, turning to us for wisdom, helped her to give people in our life more space, to enjoy more time away from them, to actually know what they wanted to do with orig fic (alien robots navigating existential aesthetics, surprise I know) finally being able to admit to herself that xey liked she pronouns and finally having a reason beyond human historical context for why- simply liking the sound and written form, and having a context for it regarding the shape they wish xey had (she had read Ancillary Justice prior to transformers and that inspired some nonhuman thoughts about being a city ship, but on a smaller scale for a networked consciousness kind of deal they would be happy to have a flying car mode, we even made a custom for xem in that regard in 2022 from legacy Elita, unfortunately the legs need fixing) but it would not be until the end of 2021 when someone on tfwiki explained kinning to us that we were able to recognize that our internal conversations, cofronting, experiencing life together etc were actually plurality of the kind a dear friend of hers had spoken to earlier that year.

I am perfectly aware that I am contextualized from fiction but that doesn't stop me from having constructed exomemories from that (which are very helpful usually) and even having sensory mayhem problems when I get cued by specific things eg when I take psychic damage from learning about another gal in fiction having had some sort of invasive surgery and not even getting the same closure I got. So fun. But yeah it has overall been a net improvement to her mental health for us to be here. One could try to say this is simply the brain adapting but I think there's more to it than that- this is the journey we are taking, that she had sought for so long. My story resonated with them in more ways than either of us care to discuss online, on social media, to the whole wide internet, but not just mine...

Aileron: I mean, it's no secret that we made the Arcana Magnus blog, which we partially did as a way to talk through that format on a site like this, but we don't really mind occasionally using our names here instead of responding in gestalt as we usually do here, or at the very least not tell you the readers who specifically wrote something.

Anode: did we have to do this to prove to y'all something? That's a pretty silly gatekeeping goalpost I think luv (that's you anon). I will say simply that the way we work is as a blurnaut / cofronting system with, when we are happy, 6-10 cofronts at a time (we are sure you can guess who some of them are), with one to three hosts. Our oldest headmate is actually taking a break from fronting period, has been for months at a time in the last year. Her relatively brief life has had so, so much pain compared to our longer ones with more experience and closure (needless to say, navigating your world without the resources we are used to having is a pain in the arse, and some of us miss our worlds tangibly terribly, eg Aileron and Chromia miss Caminus a lot, and well, we don't have a piloting license or the training for it and I wish we did.). Arcee has been doing a lot of the hosting sometimes in tandem with one of us which has been necessary to get through difficult situations and the challenges of the life we have. I dunno how to say it other than eg when we had a bad physical accident that was very painful and bloody our oldest headmate popped up from the surprise and was in shambles even with adrenaline and Arcee just- took over and dealt with the pain (she's been through a lot worse) and was able to walk to the hospital with calm and dignity, and hope frankly. Some people like Greenlight don't cohost because in her opinion our life should have gone into a programming career and that's not something that even she thinks is a good idea at present.

Marissa Faireborn: its not just transformers in here (or even Transformers fiction, Piper Faraday says hi), just so you know. We responded to this more for the benefit of people who care about us or don't understand the subject. So, thank you so very much for reading, it means the world to us <3

Yellow Splendid Convoy: we also want people to not take this reply as meaning that we usually encounter scorn. We are lucky that a lot of people do love us and care for us, there are a lot of fellow gender expaansive folks and systems and also just caring and wise people who are neither who have helped us to feel that we have a home in the community sense online and offline. From childhood friends to fellow writers and artists and especially to our partners we feel a deep happiness and joy from all of you. Thank you so much.

Also um, since some of the multiplicity community not familiar with transformers is going to see this, there is a lot of accidental multiplicity rep in transformers: duobots, combiners, binary bonding, cityspeaking, the Allspark ie our collective soul we go back to and reemerge from in some cases (Dai Atlas's thoughts on this in IDW2's Escape Part Three are so beautiful), and on and on

#hi yes we're plural #pluralsword rambles #plurality #plural system #fictive headmates #fictive heavy system #this doesn't feel like a coming out post because we were out about this when we started this blog #but we guess it's the first time we differentiate ourselves on this blog #multiplicity

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musicallisto · 11 months

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💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

🍭why did you start writing?

💎why is writing important to you?

📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

💥 find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it. willingly ignoring the horrible horrible fics I wrote when I first started this blog, I think my fic with the least notes is for old times' sake (jaime lannister), which is a real bummer because I loved writing it and I'm pretty proud of the end result, actually. I think I succeeded in what I was trying to do with my writing, the setting, and the romance, and it's pretty evocative of a Northern winter night—and how the wilderness in the North reacts differently to Jaime (a stowaway, an uninvited guest) and the reader (a child of the woods). but alas, there seems to be no crowd for jaime lannister angst </3

🍭why did you start writing? there was no reason to be honest. I started writing the moment I learned how—probably no older than five. I used to devour children's books and my mind would swell up with so many stories and ideas I either acted out on the playground with my friends, or just wrote down exactly how people who wrote books did. When I found out about Pokémon Diamond there was no turning back, my brain had seized that fantastical world and made it its own already.

💎why is writing important to you? see answer above (i need to get it out of my system, it's my only exorcism, etc.) but also, selfishly, it's the only thing in this world that I (and everyone who's come in contact with my writing, one way or another) consider myself somewhat good at. It's quite literally my only "talent" (though I wouldn't attribute it to talent at all; like everything else, it's 99% practice), and at this point, especially being an engineering student, my gift with words and appetence for literature are my one defining characterstic among my peers. Me being a writer is quite literally the only notable thing about me tbh, and the only way I can get praised. Actually, nowadays I can feel my self-esteem deteriorating the longer I go without writing.

📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom? I don't think sharing my writing specifically is important for fandom, insofar as I've always been clear about the fact I consider fanfiction a "warmup" of sorts for my personal projects. but writing in general is one of the most crucial parts of fandom and writers, as a rule of thumb, are paid dust. It infuriates me to see people copy-paste unfinished fics into ChatGPT to get a soulless AI-generated neat little ending, as if we were stuck vending machines and not actual people who spend weeks, sometimes months writing something simply for the pure joy of sharing it. Of expanding onto existing lore, of imagining characters in alternate universes and discussing possibilities with other fans, of evoking in the reader the same raw, honest emotions as we felt when we were consuming that media in the first place. Creation breeds creation, art makes art, interaction breeds community. Fandoms can only thrive as long as their artists are thriving.

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to? I personally don't care at all how "well" my fics do on here as long as I get Approved By The Mutuals. 90% of the notes we get are likes anyway so it's not like they mean that much to me either? From personal experience it's just super puzzling to have a fic get 300 likes and like zero comments or reblogs? Like did y'all like it? Did y'all even read it? But yeah no as I said I write primarily for me and for me only. I like the interaction that comes with sharing my work, but I never wrote for audiences, hence why I had no problem stopping posting. There are super personal fics on this blog (thinking of the door to heaven and hell) that flew under the radar but I don't mind it at all bc my writing is self-indulgent and catered to me. idk sorry I can't give more insightful advice but like,,,, don't take it too seriously I think? this is tumblr this is cringe fun

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited! unfortunately I have nothing to share today </3 I mean, no that's a lie, I still have my robb stark fic that's literally been sitting in my drafts since january of 2021 and which I love very much and would love to finish someday. I think I already posted snippets of it before? but here are some more lines, if anyones still a game of thrones fan in the year of our lord 2023 or whatever💔

: ̗̀➛ “Your horse is saddled, my Lord. You may depart whenever you want now, though I must reiterate my offer to ride with you.”

Robb would have laughed if the blood in his veins had not frozen from the furtive hallucination. The grounds near Winterfell had not been as safe in centuries — it would be as dangerous for him to leave the castle than to get back to his quarters. Even less so, perhaps. All of the North was haunted, but its most virulent ghosts wandered Winterfell’s cobblestone halls and flickering torchlight shadows.

“And I must decline again. But thank you.”

She nodded respectfully and disappeared behind the door, no doubt already expecting the answer. Such a pilgrimage was to be undertaken by the King and the King only. The entire town knew as much.

Empty streets welcomed the King as he left the castle on horseback, a few minutes later. The early light of day pierced snow-laden clouds like a blade through a curtain of heavy cotton, and he tasted the wind’s gelid kiss on his cheeks before he heard his town’s eerie stillness.

Unwavering, Robb Stark guided his horse through the deserted main street, amidst drawn shutters and swirling snowflakes; and the steady rhythm of his breath and the horse’s hooves on the stones were the only sound in the whole of Westeros, their cadence an oh so lonely funeral march. ༊*·˚

*ੈ✩‧₊ writing asks!

#ladylamrian #thank you for asking! <3 #writing

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fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy · 3 years

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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post!#jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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