Hi,
It’s your friendly neighbor fanfic author here. In the light of this apparent new trend of people feeding unfinished fics to AI to get an “ending,” and some people even talking about “blanket permissions,” let me just say this:
I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE TO FEED MY FICS TO AI. DUDE, THAT IS ABOUT THE LEAST RESPECTFUL THING YOU CAN DO. IF YOU DO IT, SHALL YOU BE EXCOMMUNICATED FROM YOUR FANDOM AND WALK ON LEGOS BAREFOOT TILL THE END OF DAYS.
That is my anti-permission.
Thank you for your attention.
Reblog if it’s okay for your followers to leave you an ask telling you what the one thing is they remember you for as a writer. Is it a scene or a detail or a specific line? Is it something like style or characterization? Is it that one weird kink they never thought they’d be into, but oh my god wow self-discovery time?
Meanwhile I'm buryed under 2000 different fanfictions from a03 "okay" is a pipe dream
"are you okay" girl i am on ao3 looking for fanfiction from my comfort ship when i was 12 what do you think
me, helping a little girl pick out a locket at the shop: do you usually like to wear goldtone or silvertone?
little girl: I like silver because of Artemis, the goddess of the moon and the hunt and also she’s a warrior and she never got married.
me, internally: never let the world change you
wouldn’t it be wonderful if we can have pokemon battles with other real life players in Pokemon Go?
*Person A and B randomly meet each other*
A: I’m gonna battle you!
B: pssh you’re no match for me.
A: oh you are so on!
*15 years later*
A: and that is how kids I first met your mother/father.
kids: wait you two met because of Pokemon Go??
B: and it was beautiful.
If you do not reblog this, you are in fact lying.
Person A has the ability to walk in dreams. They accidentally stumble into Person B’s terrible nightmare one night, and are so worried by it that they pledge to figure out who B is and help them get better.
The so-called “pro-life” movement’s philosophy.
Guys, I did a thing…
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away I did wibley wobley timey wimey stuff While driving around in my impala with a high functioning sociopath who solemnly swore that he was up to no good . We hoped that the odds we’re ever in our favor while taking a slice of dauntless cake knowing that with great power comes great need to take a nap and that we had been looking better in black than the widows of our enemy’s since 1234
If you were ever told or were made to learn cursive writing when you were in grade school. I wanna see how many of you suffered like I did.