The artist’s response is textbook guilt acrobatics. She presents paid‑plan schemes, shares her gallery, pushes for an opinion, and then pretends the line art she starts is something the writer somehow triggered by being honest about not wanting it. She tests the line, tries to frame herself as the injured party, and when the door slams, paints the writer as unprofessional and heartless. The moment the conversation starts triggering panic, blocking is not melodrama, it is triage. The extra layer of copying legal advice, chats, and disclaimers is not paranoia, it is damage control after years of being told every problem was their own fault.



