ā requests and chats are open! always looking for new friends <33
ā I write for george clarke, arthur frederick, arthur hill, chris dixon, harry lewis, will lenney, james marriott, alfie buttle and steve harrington!
ā my blog is 18+, so do not interact if you are a minor
ā please be nice I write for fun :)
#grace yaps for random stuff | #grace asks for request and inbox stuff I reply to! | #ghostwrittenbygrace for full works | #grace screenshots for screenshots I take off videos and stuff!
The situation in UKYTumblr + UKYTwitter is so bland.
I feel like it's quite obvious that Tumblr is a very different social media site compared to others. Tumblr literally lives and breathes on fanfiction and UKYT is no different. I don't understand shitting on Tumblr users for... being Tumblr users.
Everyone is entitled to their opinions on who to like/dislike. You can have your own reasons, morals, whatever. The thing is, no one in UKYT is "perfect". The main person of interest is AB in that type of situation. He is "racist, ableist, misogynistic, sexist". He seems to be very good friends with most of UKYTs, though....
I also don't get insulting fellow fandom members, more specifically women 'unemployed birds' and 'bitches' over these rich, white men who are all morally corrupt in their own ways. How can you hate on someone being 'misogynistic' and then behave in the exact same manner?
At the end of the day, many UKYT writers (at least those who I have interacted with) are very much aware that these youtubers don't want to fuck them. It's fiction they're writing, a creative outlet for them. If you don't like it, don't interact - no one is forcing you to.
Bestie, anything more coming for the how to lose a guy series? Xxx
yes! there is! i just lost a bit of motivation for it around the time of starting my new jobs but i think the camp series brought it back so once the camp nowhere series is finished ill be going back to how to lose a guy!
so iām currently cooking up a james series idea but the question is would you want me to post the intro page for it so you can see whatās coming even if i wont get to it for a while or rather me wait until i can get round to it?
summary: during a trip to the equipment shed things are revealed between you and arthur | Arthur x fem!reader
notes: part 5! okay iām sorry this took so long but i promise itās worth it this is a big one!! also not been spell checked bc im currently on the way to work as i post this so pls ignore any errors <33
content: 4.1k wc , fluff, angst,mentions of divorce, gossip and slight bullying mention, slightly steamy, secrets being kept, fluff
series masterlist!
You wake up to Flo poking your shoulder.
āHowās the ankle?ā she asked, already dressed in her camp shirt and shorts.Ā
āBetter,ā you said, testing it gingerly. Still swollen and tender, but the sharp pain had dulled to a persistent ache. āI can probably walk on it today.ā
āThe nurse said to take it easy.ā
āI know what the nurse said.ā You sat up, wincing. āBut I canāt just sit around all day. The kids-ā
āThe kids are fine. Hill and George covered your activities yesterday afternoon, and Bach has your cabin this morning.ā Flo sat on the edge of your bed, her expression too knowing. āYou know who checked in on you three times yesterday after you went to rest?ā
Your stomach flipped. āFlo-ā
āArthur. Three times. One with ice cream from the mess hall. Once with a book he thought youād like. Once just to āmake sure you were okay.āā She raised an eyebrow. āWant to tell me whatās going on?ā
āNothingās going on.ā
āRight. And Iām the queen of England.ā She stood, heading for the door. āIf youāre so determined to ignore the nurseās orders then you might wanna get dressed. Breakfast is in twenty minutes, and someoneās already saved you a seat.ā
āWait, what?ā
But she was already gone, laughter trailing behind her.Ā
You made it to breakfast on your own, limping only slightly. The mess hall was already full of campers and counsellors, the usual morning noise of clattering trays and overlapping conversations. You grabbed a plate of eggs and toast and scanned the room for a seat.
Your eyes found Arthur before you meant to.Ā
He was sitting with his campers, listening to one of them tell some animated story, but the moment you walked in, his gaze shifted to you. There was an open seat next to him, saved for you.
Something in your chest tightened.Ā
You looked away first, heading for the table where Flo and Liv were sitting, not ready to sit with him. But you could feel him watching you as you walked, could feel the weight of his gaze.
āMorning,ā Liv said too brightly. āHowās the ankle?ā
āFine.ā You sat down carefully, propping your foot on the bench beside you. āStop looking at me like that.ā
āLike what?ā
āLike you know something.ā
Liv and Flo exchanged a glance that made you want to throw your toast at them.
āWe donāt know anything,ā Flo said innocently. āExcept that Arthur brought you ice cream yesterday. And a book. And checked on you multiple times. And saved a seat for you this morning, which you ignored.ā
āHe was being nice. I was injured. And I wanted to sit with you guys.ā
āUh-huh.ā Liv leaned forward, her voice dropping. āAnd the way he carried you down the trail? The way he wrapped your ankle? The way he sat with you for like an hour after and looked at you like-ā
āLike what?ā you demanded.
āLike youāre the only person in the world,ā Liv said simply.
Your throat went tight. You looked down at your plate, suddenly not hungry.
āIt doesnāt matter,ā you said quietly. āThere are rules.ā
āRules can be bent,ā Flo said.
āNot these ones. You know what happens if counsellors get caught fraternising. Weād both lose our jobs. The camp owners donāt mess around with that stuff. You and Bach only get away with it because you were dating way before you started working here, and they liked you too much as counsellors to let you go.ā
āSo youāre just going to ignore it?ā Liv asked. āPretend you donāt feel anything?ā
āI donāt-ā You stopped. Looked at them. āI donāt know what I feel.ā
āWell,ā Flo said, sitting back. āYouād better figure it out. Because heās walking over here right now.ā
Your head snapped up. Arthur was indeed walking toward your table, weaving between campers with a careful, deliberate stride. He had a mug of coffee in one hand, and something wrapped in a napkin in the other.
āMorning,ā he said when he reached you. His voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. āHowās the ankle?ā
āBetter,ā you managed. āI can walk on it.ā
āThatās good.ā He held out the napkin. āI grabbed you a muffin before they were all gone. Blueberry. I remembered you said they were your favourite.ā
You stared at the muffin. At his hand. The way he was looking at you like heād been thinking about his, about you, about what you liked.
āThanks,ā you said, taking it. Your fingers brushed his, and the contact sent a jolt up your arm.
Arthurās breath hitched. Just slightly, but enough that you noticed.Ā
āI should-ā He gestured vaguely toward his table. āThe kids. But if you need anything today, just let me know. Okay?ā
āOkay,ā you said.
He nodded, then walked away. You watched him go, watched the way his shoulders were tense, and that he didnāt look back even though you could tell he wanted to.
āOh, youāre in so much trouble,ā Flo said.
You couldnāt even argue.Ā
By lunchtime, it was obvious that something had changed.
You were helping serve food in the mess hall ā your ankle was good enough for light duty ā when Maya appeared at your elbow.
āAre you and Arthur dating?ā She asked, loud enough that several nearby campers turned to look.Ā
You nearly dropped the serving spoon. āWhat? No. Why would you-ā
āBecause he keeps looking at you,ā Maya said matter-of-factly. āLike, all the time. And you keep looking at him. And yesterday on the hike, you guys were likeā¦ā She made a vague gesture. āI donāt know. Different.ā
āWeāre not dating,ā you said firmly. āWeāre justā¦ weāre friends now. Thatās all.ā
āFriends who stare at each other?ā
āMaya-ā
āItās okay if you are,ā she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. āWe think itās cute. Tyler said Arthurās been in a good mood all morning, and heās never in a good mood on Mondays.ā
āThatās not-ā You stopped and took a deep breath. āWeāre not dating. There are rules about that. Counsellors canātā¦ we canāt do that.ā
Mayaās face fell. āOh. Thatās a stupid rule.ā
āMaybe. But itās still a rule.ā
She wandered off, looking disappointed, and you tried to focus on serving lunch. But you could feel eyes on you ā whispering, glances between you and Arthurās table, clearly speculating.Ā
This was getting out of hand.Ā
You were in your cabin after dinner, reorganising the supplies ā a task you could do sitting down ā when the door opened and your entire friend group filed in.Ā
Bach. Liv. Flo. Hill. George.
They stood in a semicircle around you, arms crossed, expressions serious.
āUh,ā you said. āHi?ā
āWe need to talk,ā Bach said.
āIs this an intervention?ā
āYes! You and Arthur are driving everyone insane,ā Liv said bluntly. āIncluding yourselves.ā
You set down the box of craft supplies youād been sorting. āI donāt know what youāre talking about.ā
āYes, you do,ā Flo said. āYouāve been making eyes at each other all day. The campers are starting a betting pool on when youāll get together. And you both look miserable.ā
āWeāre not-ā
āStop,ā Arthur Hill said, his voice gentle but firm. āJust stop. Weāve been watching you two all week. Weāve been pushing you together because we could see what you couldnāt ā that youāre good together. That you care about each other. And after yesterday, itās not even a question anymore.ā
Your chest felt tight. āThere are rules.ā
āWe know about the rules,ā George said. āBut you canāt keep pretending this isnāt happening. Itās not fair to either of you.ā
āSo what are we supposed to do?ā you asked, and your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. āJustā¦ ignore the rules? Risk our jobs? Risk everything weāve built here?ā
āNo,ā Bach said. āYouāre supposed to talk to him. Actually talk to him. Figure out what you both want. And then decide if itās worth the risk.ā
āAnd if itās not?ā
āThen at least youāll know,ā Liv said softly. āBut right now, youāre both justā¦ stuck. And itās painful to watch.ā
You looked at your friends, whoād been scheming and meddling and pushing you toward this moment all week. Whoād seen something in you and Arthur before youād seen it yourselves.
āI donāt know if I can do this,ā you admitted, shakily.
āYes, you can,ā Flo said. She sat down beside you, taking your hand. āYouāre one of the bravest people I know. You just need to be brave about this too.ā
āWhat if he doesnāt-ā
āHe does,ā all five of them said in unison.
Despite everything, you laughed. āYouāre all terrible.ā
āWeāre all right,ā Bach corrected. āNow come on. Arthurās in the equipment shed doing inventory. Alone. Weāre taking the campers to the fire circle for sāmores and ghost stories. Youāve got at least an hour till someone comes looking for you.ā
Your heart started racing. āYou planned this?ā
āObviously,ā George said, rolling his eyes. āWeāve been planning this all week. Now go! Go get your man!ā
The equipment shed was at the edge of camp, a large wooden building that smelled like canvas and bug spray. The door was propped open, and you could see Arthur inside, clipboard in hand, counting life jackets.Ā
You stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching him. He moved with careful precision, making notes on his clipboard, as the late-afternoon sun slanted through the windows and caught in his hair.
He looked up and saw you. Froze.Ā
āHi,ā you said.Ā
āHi.ā He set down the clipboard. āHowās your ankle?"
āBetter. I can walk on it now.ā
āThatās good.ā He didnāt move. Just stood there, ten feet away, looking at you like he was afraid you might disappear. āWhat are you doing here?ā
āI came to help with inventory.ā
āYou donāt need to-ā
āI know.ā You stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind you. āBut I wanted to.ā
The air between you felt charged, electric. Arthurās gaze dropped to your mouth, then back to your eyes.
āOur friends cornered me earlier,ā he said quietly. āTold me I needed to stop being an idiot and talk to you.ā
āThey did the same thing to me.ā
āTheyāre not subtle.ā
āNo.ā You took another step closer. āBut theyāre not wrong.ā
Arthurās jaw tightened. āAbout what?ā
āAbout this.ā You gestured between you. āAbout us. About the fact that somethingās changed.ā
āEverythingās changed,ā he said, and his voice was rough. āI canāt stop thinking about you. I canāt stop watching you across the room, or noticing when you laugh, or wanting to be near you. And I know I shouldnāt- I know there are rules- but I canāt help it.ā
Your breath caught. āArthur-ā
āIāve been trying to figure out when it happened,ā he continued, like now that heād started, he couldnāt stop the words from falling out of his mouth. āWhen I stopped hating you and startedā¦ this. But I think maybe I never actually hated you. I think I was just scared of how much I liked you, even back then. Even back when we were campers and before everything happened, I think I blamed you for it because it was easier than admitting that I would have followed you anywhere.ā
You couldnāt breathe. Couldnāt think. Could only stare at him as he closed the distance between you, stopping just inches away.
āTell me Iām not alone in this,ā he said softly. āTell me you feel it too.ā
āI feel it,ā you whispered. āIāve been feeling it all week. Maybe longer. I donāt know anymore.ā
His hand came up, hesitating just before it touched your face. āCan I-ā
āYes.ā
His palm cupped your cheek, warm and steady, and you leaned into it without thinking. His thumb brushed across your cheekbone, and the tenderness of it made your eyes sting.Ā
āI donāt know what to do,ā you admitted. āI want this. I want you. But-ā
āI know.ā His forehead dropped to rest against yours, and you could feel his breath on your lips. āIāve been going over it in my head all day. All the ways we could get caught. All the ways this could go wrong.ā
āAnd?ā
āAnd I still canāt stay away from you.ā
Your hands found his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and hard, matching your own.Ā
āArthur,ā you breathe.Ā
āTell me to stop,ā he said. āTell me this is a bad idea, and Iāll walk away. Iāll go back to being your friend, your colleague, whatever you need me to be. Just tell me.ā
You looked up at him. At how he was looking at you ā like you were worth risking everything for.Ā
āI canāt,ā you said. āI canāt tell you to stop.ā
He made a sound low in his throat, and then his mouth was suddenly on yours.
The kiss was everything ā desperate and gentle and overwhelming all at once. His lips moved against yours like heād been thinking about this for more than a few weeks, like heād memorised exactly how he wanted to touch you. Your hands slid up to his neck, pulling him closer, and he responded by wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you slightly, taking the weight off your injured ankle.Ā
Even now, even in this, he was taking care of you.
You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak. Your back hit the wall ā you didnāt remember moving ā and Arthur pressed against you, one hand still cradling your face, the other splayed across your lower back.Ā
āGod,ā he breathed against your lips. āIāve wanted to do that for so long.ā
āHow long?ā you asked, kissing along his jaw.Ā
āSince the supply run. Maybe before. Maybe since-ā He broke off with a groan as your teeth grazed his neck. āMaybe since we were campers and you smiled at me before everything went wrong.ā
You pulled back to look at him. His eyes were dark, his lips swollen from kissing, his hair messed up from your fingers running through the strands. He looked undone in a way youād never seen before.Ā
āWe were kids,ā you said.Ā
āI know. But I remember thinking you were the most interesting person Iād ever met. And then the incident happened, and you looked at me like Iād betrayed you, and I couldnāt-ā He stopped. Swallowed hard. āI couldnāt fix it. So I let you hate me. It was easier than trying to explain.ā
āExplain what?ā
āThat it wasnāt your fault. That it wasnāt my fault either. That we both justā¦ got caught up in all the gossip.ā
Your heart clenched. āWhat actually happened that day?ā
Arthurās hand moved to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles through your shirt. His jaw tightened, like he was bracing himself.Ā
āYou told me something,ā he said quietly. āDo you remember? That night by the lake, before everything fell apart. You told me something youād never told anyone else.ā
Your breath caught. You did remember. You remembered sitting on the dock with your feet dangling over the water, the stars reflecting off the surface, and telling Arthur about your parentsā divorce. How your mum had told you last week. How your dad was moving out, how you felt like youād somehow caused it by not being good enough, by being too much trouble. Youād been terrified and heartbroken and so, so ashamed ā like it was something you should have been able to prevent. Youād not told anyone. Not your friends back home, not the other campers. Just Arthur, because in that moment, heād felt safe.Ā
āI remember,ā you said, your voice small.Ā
āSarah Mitchell overheard us.ā Arthurās expression was pained. āShe was a camper, the same year as us. I didnāt even know she was there. But she had a crush on me, and I think she saw an opportunity to-ā He stopped, shaking his head. |Shje told people. Within a day, it was everywhere.ā
You felt your stomach twist at the memory. The whispers in the mess hall. The way conversations would stop when you walked past. Someone had made a joke about your parents not wanting to be around you, and it had spread like wildfire. By the end of that week, you were āthe girl whose parents couldnāt stand her,ā and every insecurity youād ever had about being unlovable had felt confirmed. Youād spent the rest of camp trying to be invisible. Eating alone, avoiding activities, convinced that everyone was judging you, pitying you, laughing at you.
āYou said you didnāt tell anyone,ā you said, your voice tight.
āI didnāt. I swear I didnāt.ā He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and old guilt written all over his face. āBut you wouldnāt listen to me, and I couldnāt blame you because from your perspective, I was the only one who knew. So I justā¦ let you believe it. Let you hate me. Because at least that way. You had someone to be angry at instead of just feeling betrayed.ā
Tears pricked your eyes. āArthur-ā
āIāve spent four years wondering if I should have fought harder to explain,ā he continued, his voice rough. āIf should have tried more. But you were so angry, and I wasnāt even sure youād believe me.ā
You stared at him, your mind reeling. All this time. All these years of anger and hurt, and heād been carrying his own guilt the entire time.
āIām so sorry, Arthur.ā
āWhy the hell are you sorry?ā Arthur said, āNone of this is your fault. Youāre the one who had your privacy taken away, your trust broken and had to go through all the stares and gossip. You should not be the one saying sorry.ā
āBut I should have listened. Should have heard you out, but instead, I just carried on hating you for something you didnāt even do. I should have at least spoken to you about it when I stopped feeling so angry.ā You said, hanging your head.
Arthur looked at you for a moment and said quietly. āWhy didnāt you?ā
āI was too ashamed,ā you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. āToo ashamed that Iād blamed you without listening. Too ashamed that Iād let it go on for so long. Weād already spent so much time hating each other that it felt like it was too late to fix. And honestly? Part of me was still angry - not at you, but at myself for being so vulnerable in the first place. For trusting someone with something so personal. For letting one personās cruelty make me feel like my pain was something to be mocked. So I justā¦ didnāt say anything.ā
He pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. āIām sorry. Iām so sorry I couldnāt fix it then.ā
āIām sorry I didnāt let you try.ā You wrapped your arms around him, holding tight. āIām sorry I made you carry that guilt for years.ā
āWe both carried it,ā he said softly. āWe both justā¦ carried it alone.ā
You stood there in the equipment shed, holding each other, finally understanding the weight youād both been bearing. It wasnāt betrayal. It was a misunderstanding born from hurt and fear and the terrible luck of being overheard at exactly the wrong moment.
Somehow, that made it worse. Because all those years of anger had been for nothing.Ā
āCan we discuss blame later? Right know I just want-ā He kissed you again, softer this time. āI just want this.ā
You melted into him, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warm skin beneath. He shuddered at your touch, his fingers tightening on your waist.Ā
āWe should stop,ā he murmured against your mouth, even as he kissed you deeper.Ā
āProbably.ā
āSomeone could come in.ā
āProbably.ā
āWe could get fired.ā
āI know.ā You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. āI know all of that. But I donāt want to stop.āĀ
Arthurās expression was torn ā desire and fear and longing all mixed together. āI donāt either. But if we do this ā if we really do this ā we have to be careful. We canāt let anyone catch us. We canāt give them any reason to think otherwise.ā
āSo what are you saying?ā
āIām sayingā¦ā He took a shaky breath. āIām saying I want you. I want this. But I need to know you understand the risk. I need to know youāre willing to be careful, to keep this between us, to-ā
āTo sneak around?ā you finished. āTo hide?ā
āYes.ā He looked miserable. āI hate the idea of hiding this. Of hiding you. But I donāt see another option. Not if we want to keep our jobs. Not if we want to stay here.ā
You thought about it. About stolen moments in equipment sheds and careful glances across the room. About having to pretend in front of the campers, in front of your friends, in front of everyone.Ā
About the alternative ā walking away from this, from him, from the way he made you feel.
āOkay,ā you said, āWeāll be careful.ā
āYeah?ā
āYeah.ā You kissed him again, slow and deep. āBut right now, we have an hour before anyone comes back. So stop talking and kiss me.ā
He did.Ā
His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and biting gently, and you arched into him with a gaso. His hand roamed ā your waist, your hips, sliding up your sides to brush the curve of your breasts through your shirt. You tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to kiss you properly, and he groaned into your mouth.Ā
āYouāre going to kill me,ā he muttered.
āGood.ā
Your hands found the hem of his shirt, and you started to pull it up. Arthur caught your wrists, stopping you.
āWait,ā he said, breathing hard. āWait. We should- we canāt-ā
āCanāt what?ā
āCanāt do this here. Not now, not when anyone could walk in.ā He rested his forehead against yours again, his chest heaving. āI want to. God, I want to. But not like this. Not rushed, not hiding in a shed where we could get caught any second.ā
You knew he was right. Hated that he was right.
āSo what do we do?ā you asked.Ā
āWe wait. Weāre careful. We find time when itās safe.ā He kissed you once more, soft and lingering. āAnd we donāt do anything stupid that could get us caught.ā
āThis whole thing is stupid.ā
āI know.ā He smiled against your lips. āBut itās the good kind of stupid.ā
You laughed, and he pulled you into a hug, just holding you. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in ā soap and sunncream and something uniquely Arthur.Ā
āI donāt want to let go,ā you admitted.Ā
āThen donāt. Not yet.:
So you stood there, wrapped in each other, until you heard voices in the distance ā campers returning from the fire circle, your hour of privacy coming to an end.
Arthur pulled back reluctantly, his hands lingering on your waist. āWe should probably make it look like were actually doing some inventory.ā
āRight. Inventory.ā You looked around at the scattered life jackets and paddles. āVery convincing.ā
He laughed and handed you the clipboard. āHere. Look official.ā
You were both trying to look busy when the door opened, and Bach stuck his head in.Ā
āHey, howās the-ā He stopped, looked at you, looked at Arthur and the way you were both slightly dishevelled, your lips swollen, Arthurās hair sticking up.Ā
A slow grin spread across his face.
āInventory going well?ā he asked innocently.Ā
āFine,ā Arthur said, his voice admirably steady. āJust finishing up.ā
āUh-huh.ā Bachās grin widened. āWell, donāt let me interrupt. Iāll justā¦ be outside.
He left, and you and Arthur looked at each other.
āheās going to tell everyone,ā you said.
āImmediately.ā Arthur agreed.
āWeāre terrible at this.ā
āThe worst.ā He kissed your forehead. āBut I donāt care.ā
āYou will when we get fired.ā
āThen weāll get fired together.ā He said it lightly, but there was something serious underneath. Something that made your heart skip.
āArthur-ā
āI mean it,ā he said. āWhatever happens, weāre in this together. Okay?ā
You looked at him ā at this boy whoād been your rival, your enemy, your friend, and nowā¦ something more. Something that felt too big and too fragile and too important to name.Ā
āOkay,ā you said. āTogetherā
He smiled, and it was like the sun coming out.Ā
Outside, you could hear Bach already talking to someone, his voice carrying through the evening air. You could hear Livās delighted laugh and the otherās shouting,Ā
Your secret had lasted approximately three minutes between your friends, but at least the campers and owners were still in the dark.Ā
hey so when did we think it was acceptable to use random softwares and codes on fanfics to try and put writers down by accusing them of using ai? some of you people on here are WAYYYYY to comfortable doing stuff xxxx
i read your post and it makes no sense. how can you say youāre lesbian but you write smut about men?? surely you must find be sexually attracted to them to write about them fucking you. you talk about how hot they are and how you want them to dominate you but youāre ālesbianā. nothing wrong with being bisexual. im bisexual myself, but i would never date or be with a man for various reasons. that doesnāt automatically make me a lesbian, bc i still experience attraction to men even if its not something i would act on. just seems disrespectful to actual lesbians to claim you are one and then write about having sex with them like what lmao
hi anon, allow me to explain further.
i can say im a lesbian because i am one.
like i said before, me writing smut is just a bit of fun and it just so happens that ukyt is mostly male. i am not sexually attracted to men, not in the slightest.
the 'you' figure i write about is a general other third party, namely 'you' as in the reader, not the writer. when i write smut or fanfiction in general, the subject of the story is more of a concept than representing the real life version of them. i don't envision myself in the story when i write. it's hard to explain, but when i write, it's almost as if im watching it unfold on a film. i am not involved. all im doing is guiding the story.
i said before that everything i write is fictional, and it is!
i don't recall ever saying i wanted any of the men i talk about to dominate me - but if i have, i can guarantee you it's just me messing around and being a fangirl. i said before that im gay, not blind. i can see that these men are good looking and conventionally attractive, but that doesn't mean im attracted to them. as much as i post about james or arthur, i genuinely am not sexually attracted regardless of whether or not i write smut about them. they're sort of just there for me like cool these are men, people like them i want to connect with people let me post about them.
for me when i do write it's just kinda like im playing with dolls or whatever, manipulating the fictionalised idea of whoever to write something fun that i want my followers to enjoy. im making the reader barbie and the subject barbie kiss. there's no sexual attraction involved. im able to describe things so well because ive been reading and writing fanfiction for years, and the majority of fanfiction unfortunately is male centered, so it's just what im familiar with at this point. and it's popular, writing x reader with a male subject. sue me if i want as many people as possible to see and enjoy my writing.
writing smut is just a hobby, something i find fun. i like creating stories, and that's all they are to me. you think i actually find the concept of sitting under a man's desk sucking his dick hot? no, i really don't, not at all. but it made a nice fanfiction idea. so i wrote it, and people liked it. that's all this is, i just want to write stuff that people like for a fandom im interested in.
any 'attraction' that you're gleaning from my posts is literally just me messing around and most often exaggerating for comedic effect.
i don't appreciate you putting the sexuality ive fought for at least seven years to accept about myself in air quotes. i have no doubt that you're bisexual, and im happy for you for having that identity, but it's not the same because i just genuinely am not attracted to men. truly, ive tried. it's just not there at all on any level. i tried for years to fit in with my friends who talked about boys, and even unfortunately was a victim of comphet because i was so deep in denial and i just thought that's what i should be doing. i have never felt more gross and upset as i did then, because i knew that i was lying to myself. since accepting myself, i have been the happiest ive ever been.
silly little stories on the internet won't change that. because it's just a story.
i don't know how to explain this to you any more than i have already that what i write is fanFICTION. by nature, it's a work of my imagination. its not real. i feel nothing for men past the normal admiration people have for celebrities and their idols. that's it.
im not 'claiming' to be anything. i am who and what i say i am. you don't know me. you don't know my experiences or my life. saying im faking my sexuality based on the fact i write fanfiction is not only silly but also disrespectful and invalidating to me. i said before, fanfic doesn't reflect real life. because it doesn't.
it might come as a shock, but people can write about anything they want. some of the shit that appears in literature these days is far far worse than a lesbian writing smut. people write about dragons and magic or whatever, but that doesn't mean they're a wizard for writing that, or that the writer actually wants to get fucked by a werewolf or whatever the fuck is going on in books these days. people literally write shrek porn. because it's fun to write silly stories, not because (i hope) they actually want to fuck shrek.
also, i fear there are bigger issues going on in the world right now than my sexuality. believe what you want to about me, it doesn't matter. im done explaining myself to people on the internet. if it bothers you that much, then feel free to block me or just scroll past my writing. ive tried my best to explain myself, so hopefully this helps you understand.
any more anons i receive about this will just be deleted. i don't need the negativity. im just trying to write and have fun.
sorry for the delay in the next fic (who told me two jobs was a good idea??) but i pinky promise it will be posted either tomorrow evening or thursday and i swear it will be worth the wait šš then im so looking forward to next week bc i have three (three!!!!) whole days off and im gonna lock in so hard and finish a bunch that i can stick in my drafts and post every couple of days! thanks for sticking with me through this
would LOVE to see a look into your writing process! (if youāre comfortable with that obviously) seeing the anon about how much youāve organised for the upcoming fics is so interesting š„°
ofc angel! this is the way i plan out series but ik itās different for everyone and some people might find me mad for doing it this wayā¦
basically once i have my idea which usually stems from a lot of media i consume like movies, musics, books other fanfics i read etc or literally just daydreaming a lot, i like just do a massive word blurt in my notes app of anything i can think of or a vague plot if i have one hereās what i did for the camp series! as you can see some stuff changed from the original plan
i literally just put down anything that comes to mind that i think of and then i can go through it later. then from that i try to make it more organised. get a better idea of what i want it to look like and how many chapters to fit everything in. then what i want each chapter to be like this (lil sneak peek of the next titles for the series as well)
then after that i go to my word doc and basically for each chapter i start with bullet points of everything i have to and really want to include (like scenes, specific convos or lines they say) then i write from that.
but another way i do it is if i have a vague idea of a series i go to one of my lovely writer friends. mostly either @mirrorinthemeadow @lenneyswhore or some of the lovely people in the discord server. and i just blurt out my idea and anything i vaguely thought of and we bounce ideas off eachother and i copy and paste everything we say into notes so i donāt forget anything and then do the same thing again with the chapters and stuff!
after i write my chapter i sometimes get someone to beta read it just to ease my worries and for the camp series thats mostly been @catlenneys !! i hope this answered your question lovely āŗļøāŗļø
the descriptions for āthe nanny diariesā and āin this lifetimeā are such good fic ideas omg. are you writing chapters for them yet?
thank you so much angel āŗļø iām so excited for them!! iāve planned and drafted (by drafted i mean bullet points with what i want in each chapter) most of the nanny diaries and iāve got like a solid plot line and stuff for in this life time but not fully drafted yet! i want to finish the camp series, and at least how to lose a guy series before starting one of them though probably. i get too ahead of myself and post the intros and synopsis for all my series ideas and then take forever to get to them :( but im just sooo excited for them and want to share the excitement!
