#tumblr report system work i beg

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part 1)

——————————————

A/N: Originally posted this to AO3 and then decided to start a Tumblr account for some COD x readers and headcanons. So, if any body is interested, my requests will be open for the next couple of weeks till I hit about 10-15 or maybe more if this gets a lot of love. I’ll be posting a list of who I’ll write for later today. Enjoy!

Word Count: ~3.4k

CW: Inappropriate Teacher/Student relationship///This part is pretty tame, it’s the later parts you have to worry about but each will have their own warnings attached.

The truth was as simple as this: You were failing History.

Terribly at that, and it would take an act from whichever god would take pity on you to get your grade above the F you were currently sporting on your most recent report card. You were determined to get at least a C by the time the next report card came around, just so you wouldn’t have to take the same damn class for another semester.

The second truth was not as simple: Your teacher was as hot as the sun in the Nevada desert during the summer solstice.

He was a man that played by the rules, teaching tough love in the form of not giving a shit when you didn’t turn a paper in on time. His rules were strict, and so was his grading system. Professor Price was going to be the death of your college career. That didn’t keep you from eyeing the way he moved during the lecture, and it didn’t help that he was the type to make eye contact with each of his students to make sure they were paying attention, forcing you to keep your eyes off of his body and on his face for the entire hour that he spent lecturing the class on the different wars that had plagued the earth.

Despite failing, you had to admit his class was one you had looked forward to. However, it's not because you had a love for history, it’s to ogle the man that taught you. You should probably feel bad, but you didn’t. You couldn’t focus when he wore the furthest thing from educational wear, usually sporting a simple tee that fit him a little bit too well and either a pair of dress pants or coming in what looked like uniform pants that you could only guess were from his earlier days in the military. He had never talked about his days before becoming a professor, but you could about guess it was something that kept him fit by the way his muscles threatened to shred his thin shirt.

However, none of this could explain why you were now leaning over his desk, trying to bribe him into taking the paper you had tried to turn in late.

Price leans back in his chair in the front of the class, hitting his pen against his hand and taking in every word you had whispered to him, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible.

“Isn’t there any way you can take the paper?” Your hands press heavily against the edge of his desk. There aren't many times that you had come up to him instead of it being the other way around. He was continuously trying to get you to turn your work in on time, but lo and behold, it seems that his prodding had gone in one ear and out the other.

“No,” He speaks sternly, and you can’t help the way your shoulders drop at his words.

“But-” You begin again, but he cuts you off before you can even say anything else.

“You should have turned it in,” He shrugs, his more nonchalant attitude coming out in his words. You knew he didn’t give a shit if you failed but you wished he would at least take some pity on you. “I told you multiple times when it was due, and you ignored it.” His eyes shone with mischief, and you knew he was a man that had seen a lot worse than a student practically on her knees, begging for a second chance.

“I promise it won’t happen again, sir” You tacked on the last bit, trying to play into the small power trip he has, but it does nothing. “Just give me one more chance.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that?” His words aren’t harsh when they come out of his mouth, just stern, “You had multiple chances to turn that paper in on time, so your irresponsibility doesn’t seem like it’s my problem.” He leans back up on his desk as he speaks, nodding towards the small folder in your hand.

You had worked all night trying to get this paper written, staying up damn near the sunrise just to get it to him on time, only to realize the due date was yesterday when you had moved to turn it in.

Your words come out with not much thought from you, but the smirk on his face spurs you on, “Just this once, please. I’ll do anything, sir.”

You hadn’t realized how much trouble your words would get you into just yet.

Price leans back in his chair again, continuing to fiddle with his pen as he gives you a small chuckle. It’s barely there but you hear it and his words come shortly after, “Anything?” You give him a small nod at his words, “You know what they say about making deals with the devil?”

“No…” You breathe out slightly at his words and they imply something, but you’re not quite sure. You can’t help but look down at his arms. There’s no way he’s implying what you think he’s implying, but you don’t stop your mind from wandering.

“Then I guess we don’t have a deal,” He leans back up moving to begin grading papers again, “You’ll just have to accept the grade you earned.” He doesn’t give you another look, instead his pen moves against the paper as he tries his best to ignore your presence.

“Wait- What do they say, about making deals with the devil?” You continue to lean on his desk, voice low. “I’d sell my soul for a good grade in this class, sir. I’m begging.”

“You’d sell your soul, would you?” His face turns towards you, a small smirk playing at his lips, and you have to admit he looks god-damn attractive like that, about a foot or so between the two of you. You can only nod, eyes glancing down at his hands once again.

You don’t care if he’s just some creep wanting you to suck him off in the back closet once for him to take your late paper, and you also don’t admit to yourself that you would probably do it if he offered, good grade or not. He’s the hottest thing you’ve laid your eyes on in years and a heat pools in your abdomen at the thought of it.

“I don’t know about your soul, but we might be able to make another deal.” His words are low as he speaks, his face turning back to his papers, and his pen moves, marking little details in the margin of the paper.

“Anything, I’d do anything…” Your words trail off, waiting to hear whatever he has to say.

He nods, taking in your words before he moves to put his hands under his chin. There’s a devious smile under his mutton chops, and when he finally speaks, it’s not what you really expected him to say. “I want you to be my personal errand girl for the rest of the semester.” He takes in your reaction, eyes on your face for a reaction, “That means you’ll grade papers for me, fetch me coffee, and do whatever else I need you to do.” Your shoulders slump slightly, and you can’t believe you had fully expected him to tell you he’d be bending you over his desk for a passing grade. Your eyes don’t catch the way his lips had darted out to wet his lips at the words, ‘anything else’. “And in return, I’ll give you a passing grade, but if you fail to do so, I won’t hesitate to fail you.”

“Is that all? I can manage that.” You say confidently. You can be his personal lap dog for the rest of the semester. It really didn’t seem all that bad.

“Oh, I don’t think you understand the full extent of what I’m asking,” You watch his face as he speaks, “But if you’re willing, then we have a deal.” He raises his hand to you, intending to shake on the agreement.

“What?” You say a little bit snarky, “I get you coffee when you ask for it, and you say jump and I ask how high?” You reach your hand out, placing your palm in his. The calluses against his palm scratch against your soft one.

“Something like that,” He speaks as he shakes your hand, and you don’t realize that one handshake will be your unraveling. “We’ll discuss the details after class. For now, get back to your seat and let me finish grading these papers.”

“Of course,” You nod eagerly, placing the folder on his desk before turning to make your way back to your own seat, and he turns back down, moving through the papers with grace, marking along the pages at the right and wrong information.

Professor Price has always been a little bit of a wildcard, but you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief when you finally get back to your seat. You’re not sure what you had actually got yourself into, but you swear to yourself not to screw up the chance he’s given you. The work in front of you is completed rather quickly, which is lucky considering you can’t focus through class and have to rely solely on the reading. You can’t help it that the sheer circumference of the man's arms get more attention from you than the words he speaks. It would be nice if your slight infatuation with him would garner you some way to get information from his words instead of turning your brain into a pile of mush.

Your gaze moves up to him, and you catch his eyes on you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can tell he’s quite pleased to have you agree to his little deal, and you can’t help but feel slightly flustered from the unwarranted attention. He’s probably just excited to get some of his workload off of him.

Your eyes stay turned to him, even after he looks away, and you know you shouldn’t stare, but you can’t really help yourself. Your work is finished in front of you, so taking a break from the reading to watch him grade his papers shouldn’t hurt.

His arms are lean, and his muscles seem to flex each time he raises his arm to flick his pen against one of the papers. Your mind flows back into wondering just what it was he had done before deciding to become a professor. Despite it being in the past, he definitely continues to work out since there’s no way he’s keeping a physique like that just lounging around the house all day.

“Something on your mind?” His voice comes out, tearing you out of your thoughts and you look up, realizing he had caught your eyes on him.

You decide to say fuck it, and shoot, asking him the question you had wondered for the last couple of weeks, “What did you do before you were a professor, sir?” Your question garners a few looks from the other students in class, their eyes turning to him, probably wondering the same thing.

“Well,” He lays his pen down before he speaks, “I’ve had quite the career,” His voice carries through the classroom, looking at you before turning his gaze to the other students. “I served in the military for many years, fought in several wars, but,” His eyes are on you again, “Now I’m here teaching the next generation.”

You nod to him, turning your attention to the textbook in front of you but the voice of another student pries you away from it, “Explains the drill sergeant attitude.” It’s followed by a small laugh. Price just shrugs, not really disagreeing with him.

Price finally dismisses the class moments later, slightly early, but you do your best to lag behind, gathering your things in your bag, and throwing it over your shoulder as the last student filters out. You move to walk to his desk, knowing he’d want to talk to you about your little ‘agreement’. Price is also packing up his things, stuffing papers into a folder before he pushes it into what looks like a laptop bag.

His eyes pull towards yours, and you watch as he lays a heavy hand down on his desk, “First things first, I expect you to be at my beck and call whenever I need you,” He pulls the bag over his shoulder as he speaks.

“Yes sir,” You speak, nodding at him. Your hands play with each other nervously.

“If I ask you to fetch me coffee, you do so. If I need you to grade papers for me, you do so.” He speaks and you continue to nod to him.

He continues, “Good, secondly, I’ll need you to keep my schedule organized,” He hands you a small planner, and you come to realize this is going to be a little more time-consuming than you had expected. “You’ll be responsible for making sure I’m on time, whether it’s a class, a meeting, or any other obligations.” He studies you as he speaks, “Lastly, I expect you to be discreet about our agreement. I don’t do this for any other student, so no one needs to know about this. If anyone asks, you’re simply helping me with some extra work. If it gets out, I won’t think twice about failing you.” He watches you as you nod to his requests, but you can’t help the itch at the back of your brain. “Is that clear?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” You speak, eyes resting on his, “Helping you with extra work?”

“Yes, that is one way to put it.” He smirks slightly, “And you’re not to question my authority or disobey my orders.” He leaves the air open for a moment, gauging your reaction to his words, “Understood?”

The way he speaks, just in his simple tone, makes a heat pool between your legs, but you have to pull yourself out of your thoughts. He doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s his military nature. You’re sure he had a high rank, his commanding presence sure to make anybody weak in the knees.

“Yes sir,” I speak, my words a lot lower than I had meant. It feels like a big secret, something shared with you and you alone. You can’t help that it makes you excited.

“Is there anything else you’d like to clear up,” He speaks before he adds, “You seem a little distracted.” His words are low, but you have to push the feeling that rises in you down. He’s your professor, he’s just trying to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“This just feels a little more secretive than I was expecting.” Your words tumble out of their own accord.

“Our agreement is a little less...conventional than most,” He gives you a small smile, innocent in nature, but you can’t help but get excited. It is something that only you and he share. “I don’t offer extra credit for anyone else, and we wouldn’t want to make any other student jealous, would we?” You shake your head at his question. “Plus, I think you’re up for the challenge, aren’t you?”

You can feel your heart rate pick up, “Yes sir.”

“Now, I expect you to keep me on schedule,” He taps on the planner resting in your hands, and you nod at him eagerly. “And if you do a good job, I’ll reward you with some extra credit.”

You nod to him again, hoping you don’t come off as too excited, “I’ll do my best, sir.”

“I’m sure you will,” He moves around the desk, “You can go ahead and head out for today, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

You adjust the bag on your shoulder, moving to put his planner in as you head out of the classroom. You can feel his eyes on you as you leave, and it leaves you with a feeling of excitement and anticipation. You had never expected him to give in and offer you extra credit. It’s definitely going to be a lot of hard work on your part but you’re practically buzzing at the idea of being able to do these things for him in exchange for a better grade. You’re willing to do what it takes to get through this in one piece, and hopefully not have to take another history class in the next semester.

------

That night, you finally open up his planner, eyes roaming over all the things he does in his day. You look across the margins where he has small dates and times in place, and various meetings are strewn across the pages. To put it simply, the entire planner is a damn mess. No wonder he had asked you to keep up with it. Just looking at it would give any normal human a headache.

You scoff, pulling out your own planner that admittedly doesn’t get much use. At least you can use the thing you had spent an ungodly amount of money on during this agreement. You look through the pages of his planner, transferring whatever information you could get into a better format into your own planner.

Along one of the pages, you find what seems to be his personal phone number. You quickly put it into your phone, making a mental note to give him a call in the morning. He probably already knows about the class, but you don’t want to disappoint, so you decide to tell him every time he has something to do, including the regularly scheduled things that are probably muscle memory to him at this point.

There’s a meeting about an hour after his first class, and then another evening class around 3. It shouldn’t be too hard to just let him know after class that he has a meeting to attend. You close the planners, putting the both of them into your bag before cutting the small desk lamp off and heading to bed.

The alarm blares loudly the next morning, pulling you out of your sleep, and within moments, you shoot up, remembering your deal with Professor Price. Your hand reaches around for your phone, finding it half stuck under some pillows. You cut the alarm off before moving to your contacts, taking a deep breath, finding his name, and pressing call.

Your nerves are on edge from the simple task of waking him up. The entire thing is now reeling in your head. What if he hadn’t wanted you to call him?

His voice is groggy when he finally picks up the phone, laced with sleep and it sends a jolt directly between your legs, “Hello?” He sounds slightly confused.

You cut to the chase fairly quickly, “It’s (y/n), found your number in your planner and thought you might want to know you have a class in an hour.” You hold your breath afterward, hoping that this is exactly what he had wanted from you.

“Right, right.” His voice comes heavy through the receiver, and you barely hear him mumble something that sounds a lot like ‘smart girl’ before he’s back to speaking to you again, “Thank you, I’ll be there on time.” He huffs a small chuckle now, and it sets your skin ablaze from the roughness of his early morning voice, “You’re proving to be quite useful already.”

It’s ridiculous what his small praise does to you, and you know that if he was there with you, you would have to keep yourself from falling to pieces, but he’s not, and you’re alone in your small solo dorm. You have free reign to lay your head back on the pillow and bask in his voice.

“Glad to be of service, sir.” Your voice comes out lower than you had wanted, but fuck, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You follow it with a light laugh.

“You’re going to be a very valuable asset to me,” You keen at the praise, and he continues to speak. “I’ll see you in class.” He finishes and the phone line goes dead. You let it rest against your chest and curse yourself.

This is gonna be a hell of a lot harder if he keeps praising you like that.

[sashi-ya]

I need to take it out of my system, I am not begging for attention nor anything similar. It's more about my own expectations vs tumblr. Honestly I am feeling so... discouraged to keep on with Kinktober. I don't know, it's a lot of work and I have really little interaction. I am not sure exactly how to improve my writing skills if that's the problem. I see many other creators go over 15k likes in their fics and mine aren't even 50. (And I know I'm not the only one feeling this way, many creators go through the same) Is not that's the only thing that matters, but it is kinda sad to see you are putting a lot of effort into something that's not even noticed. I will post the ones I already wrote so that they don't die in my drafts but... for the rest we will see. Perhaps since someone decided to start massively reporting my fics is that tumblr keeps me shadow banned. So for that person/people: yeah, you won. I hope you can shine your non existent skills, now that you have put me in the dark.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

The Bad Week on Twitter in publishing and possible SOLUTIONS to the problems discussed.

"I’m sorry, not sorry ’bout what I said Don't lose your head" --Anne Boleyn, Six, the Musical

Twitter updated their software back end to handle more images, so I added the full text and images into this post.

I’m aware of the fact by doing this post someone is going to say: “You hate all agents, the entire industry, you hate me, and you know nothing. I’m black balling you.” simply for doing this post or try to find solidarity, but I’m begging with a bunch of other writers that we work together on a problem I know we all collectively see. I’m doing cold reporting as well as trying to find a way through to bring us together. And this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to do this.

My personal dream is end to end diversity in the bookstore/Library without question. Indie and Barnes and Nobles alike. I was highly affected by the lack of diversity in my childhood, and it’s a gap I want to fill/be filled. I’m hoping you dream it too and are willing to work with us to achieve better numbers and better faith. I want uplift, not only for myself, but others in my position. This has sections, I’m going to be the tdlr; first. The sections are:

tldr; get the point already

Me and previous activism so you have some faith I'm not here to yell and you know that I have some clue about the publishing industry. I'm just the messenger don't shoot me. I'm solutions-oriented.

History of the Diversity Movement (as I know it)

Statistics

This Bad Week in Publishing on Twitter

Tangible Solutions to reach our goals.

To be clear, I'm here to report, but also use my anthropology degree in systems to try to improve the system and show everyone what we see on our end, so that hopefully the whole industry coordinates so it's not authors/writers v. agents/publishers (the people)/publicists/booksellers/editors. From talking to other authors pinning their hopes on trad publishing, we, too, ache for cooperation. And what we are hoping is that industry professionals will help us with that so we can achieve and fight for it together by extending empathy and cooperation.

I, personally, understand how asking for change feels like it might be hating you, personally, but I think the point is us coordinating together to better serve the readership. Shouldn't we focus on that?

The rest of the post is here because tumblr wouldn’t allow me to post all of the relevant images:

Too long, didn't read, get to the point already

Authors/writers are confused because what we see on our end are these statistics from Pew Research center:

Since 1980's cishet male readership has slid to lower and lower with a lot of articles speculating why, but publishers try harder to bring them back. The last numbers sliding to as much as ~80% women ~20% men readership with as much as ~90% women as serial readers.

And Black College-educated women being the now principal readers. We unfortunately don't have disabled readership numbers, but I speculate those numbers are high.

It's what sells, but we aren't given numbers on your end, so from our end, we're trying to fill a market you won't sell to, so we feel frustration. Wait, aren't we selling to a demographic that really loves diversity?

What we want is numbers from your end so we can UNDERSTAND WHY. It would also help us generally with comps, etc. We're willing to do the groundswell work to ask bookstores and readership to also pitch in. Just come and talk to us and show us what money is generally being put into a diversity book, and also give us the freedom to prove to you we can put out our most creative and sell it. We're not asking for laziness on our end and you do all the work. We're asking for cooperation and transparency.

Some background on me because clicking the profile is so hard:

I've been studying publishing since I was 13 years old. One of the first bits of advice I ever got from Writer's Digest was: Writers need to know contracts and the industry too, to protect themselves. So, I've done my best to keep up.

I've worked as a production assistant at a publishing company--though for translated works, which included editing and compiling Product Bibles. I got in by contacting the head of the company with editing mistakes (I was young and I didn't think much by doing this--I wouldn't recommend it usually. The young are brave and occasionally a bit thickheaded). I also bothered to write a rejection for someone as well.

I know the process and have listened to hours of writers telling me how it works and read blogs back in the day religiously. I can give you a history of publishing from the roots of China all the way to present day in staggeringly geekish details. You don't want to try me because it's a book.

I've read books and watched movies *just* to understand why that piece of media was hated or loved, watched countless reaction videos to books, movies, pop culture from around the world, so I can keep tabs on not just the US market, but the world market. I've collected tidbits about how other markets work and why. I wouldn't have done that without a really deep love for this industry. No one else really would care exactly how publishing is changing in Japan under the pressures of the internet in the US except industry professonals.

I've also tried over the years to find solutions to social justice problems:

I used to make every year for Nanowrimo lists of resources to write diversity until the moderators got upset one year and locked all the threads. I put my neck on the line for that. This was, BTW, long before "We Need Diverse Books" was a thing. I got a lot of hate for simply compiling the list of resources. (That was all I did and people breathed on me for it.)

I worked on the rehoming situation for the boy that was in Ohio. I sent a bunch of people to pressure the governor and sheriff's department about his welfare. And we got a result; China is going to quit adopting children out to social influencers. Holt also reconsidered their policies because I got adoptive parents, adoptees and the general public to cooperate on a single goal. Up to that point social influencers were using his situation to get money and comment on it, but not do any actions to solve it. BTW, the boy also ended up in a better situation as police followed up and made sure.

I tried to work on the communication problems with adoption in Korea.

I was the one that asked that PoC Agents and Associate PoC agents get credit on the agency listings so they could move up the world for more transparency. This caused a ground swell and now it's standard practice, with more PoC agents getting promoted as a result. I was sure I was going to get hated for that too.

I also questioned the whole "PoC/diversity fad" thing, though I'm not sure if it was completely from me, but I was one of the voices that asked is this really necessary after mass trauma? What should mswls look like for diversity?

I had a thread on why your book would be banned in support of ALA's Banned Book week to get people thinking in a fun way about the impact of banned books and if it is possible to ever write a book that won't get banned (and the answer is no.)

I also did a few loose surveys on number of rejections before being published and a general writer survey on Nanowrimo to get a sense of the demographics (The long questions list was so writers could practice interview questions and help those who had school projects on Nanowrimo.) I learned a lot from running those surveys, such as how to respect other writers and if identity correlated to how likely someone was going to get published.

I've also tried to help authors/graphic design artists, etc with reading contracts on occasion too.

My activism has been minor because I have limited wavelength for drama, but I've done my best to contribute something *positive* rather than merely pile on. I also backtracked claims (Fact checking is something I do frequently) and tried to posit solutions to problems with cooperation. I did a post on what writers would love agents to have as policies by working together with an agent and writers and talking it through. I *love* cooperation.

Full disclosure: I've been through a lot of trauma, and I'm drama phobic, but it's also made me very focused on less accusations and more solutions. This is 100% what I'm looking to do. Bring groups together to attack a singular problem. BTW, I'm not saying my solutions are perfect. But can we talk about it and work on it together?

History of the Diversity Movement (as I know it)

Agents

According to On Writing by Stephen King, it rose in the 1970's -1980's... so it's a relatively new profession. He was deadset against agents, saying that hiring a contract lawyer was more effective. But as I'll cover, there were solid arguments for the need for this profession.

Before 2009

So after the 19th century, a bunch of white men pretty much locked out a bunch of women and diversity voices by saying their writing was inferior in a variety of ways (lol I'm working on a nonfiction book about this--well a chapter). This caused issues pretty early in the rise of the publishing industry as the tech to reach the general public got better. A lot of the fiction for (white) women was relegated to being either "trash" or "Literary" (which is the fate of a lot of PoC written for PoC books.) TT I don't have stats for Diversity books.

However, the internet hit and people that were previously disconnected found out that other people thought the same thing, and the industry shifted significantly as self-publishing became more viable than before. An industry also rose to try to meet the demand, but this left traditional publishing in a lurch.

But on the diversity side people could finally ask questions about representation and connect to other authors like them.

2009

There was a groundswell after The Mammoth Book of Mindblowing SF had a controversy, where the authors were all white cis male. This controversy hit Nanowrimo and then exploded from there. NK Jemisin said that she probably wouldn't have had her books published without it. <3 (She helped me as I helped her, but I'm not saying how I know that.)

There was adult books being published as well as YA of different backgrounds. We got Saladin Ahmed from that... and then...

We Need Diverse Books

came out. And then all of the diversity was stuffed over time into YA. Part of it was their fault as they gave up on Adult demographics books, and part of it got heat for chasing only authors. Authors felt like they were getting chased out of YA. Some of the reporting was terrible (I'm looking at you Publisher's Weekly. You know what you did, which is why you needed to call for a PoC editor after my call out).

Some people in the We Need Diverse Books movement are mad at me because I asked them to represent Black people and adults, and do better with adoption presentation... and questioned why they chased after only writers, not publishers and the industry as a whole. (As I said, my jam is cooperation as a whole)

There were also general quibbles from writers about how they were doing this, and trying to do upfront censorship, limiting things, but that's a whole mess to explain.

Because of college I had to step out for a while... so I don't have the nuanced beats from about 2017-early 2019. However, what I do know is that as writing moved to Twitter, writers didn't like how it was focused all on writers doing better and the numbers not changing on who got published. At the same time I was watching librarians cry over the fact they were not getting the books they wanted. Sure, for children, but where are the rest of them? Book covers, after prominent figures stepped up improved greatly (because I do a self report every year since I was 13 because I super take this seriously.)

2020, pandemic

So after a bunch of academic learning about systems, I took a look around and decided to challenge a few in minor ways. I'm sure it got me blackballed for asking that PoC agents get listed, but I thought it was small systemic change that was manageable.

I missed the whole conversion to comps thing, which I probably would have challenged earlier had it come up. (Anyone have the tea, give it to me... ‘cause I really want to know...)

So here we are in 2023, and asking questions such as, 2009, 10+ years, the numbers haven't changed.

Statistics

https://nces.ed.gov/naal/lit_history.asp

This source said it was roughly the same in the 1980's, but male readership significantly has been declining since. I checked numbers in the early 2000's and at the time, the writer population matched the reader population at about 60-40. (Nanowrimo surveys of the time) Pew research center suggested similar numbers in early 2000.

Editors proudly reported in the same time period they did a 50/50 split on male to female. TT Did you not check the market numbers?

By 2021, this had slid significantly to an ~80-20 spread and ~90% of women being the serial readers. (NBs not included)

https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2021/09/21/who-doesnt-read-books-in-america/

This was so significant that the Atlantic reported: https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2014/01/most-likely-person-read-book-college-educated-black-woman/357091/

Since 2009, there have been health of the industry reports on mainly LGBTQIA and PoC, though occasionally on ND and disability (We need better stats for that, just saying it would be useful to know).

Here are some of the ones I know:

https://reachoutandreadmn.org/news/blog/diverse-childrens-books.html

https://www.booknetcanada.ca/blog/2019/7/18/who-are-the-characters-in-your-picture-books-diversebooks

https://www.slj.com/story/an-updated-look-at-diversity-in-childrens-books

https://www.slj.com/story/an-updated-look-at-diversity-in-childrens-books

https://www.slj.com/story/an-updated-look-at-diversity-in-childrens-books

I've also seen general statistics, but those are harder to dig up, which has reported that nothing has changed, except, look, the really needy group who can't read gets representation, animals. While Librarians were BEGGING the industry to fix it, the industry took it as a sign to back away from race-related issues. That's what it looks like on our end. The ALA has our backs because every year they do a report on banned books and why they were banned highly discouraging it.

Women as readers, especially liberal (and more recently Black ones) are more likely to like diversity issues. Women make up mothers trying to change the next generation of boys so they don't end up as toxic men, they also fought for civil rights. And Black women were at the head of the LGBTQIA movement, several civil rights movements, etc.

So if authors/writers see these statistics plus Twitter's Publishing paid me, it feels like on our end, that trad publishing doesn't really care what readers want nor what writers want. They want to publish white straight abled books or bust despite the statistics, and agents are willing to cooperate with such notions by closing ranks and telling us, "That's what sells." But since the rise of the Self-publishing industry, the self-publishing industry is saying that's not true, so we, who pinned our hopes on distribution and help with international markets feel a disconnect. What's going on in traditional publishing that you're ignoring the market? And thus, this brings us to...

This Bad Week in Publishing

First, I have to state, if you take these names and try to harass, doxx, or otherwise do nasty things to them, I personally, will not condone it, and in general, it makes you a terrible, terrible human being when the focus is on the future and trying to make concentrated change rather than blame.

People hate change. Our job is to convince them we can do better.

I'll state this over and over again, the opening tweet wasn't about manuscript wishlists.

https://twitter.com/JayMoneWrites/status/1655351493724188673

The original tweet was asking agents to back off telling writers how to write stories:

For example (mine, not Jay's), you HAVE to use the 3-act conflict narrative or it's a BAD story. Wait, I've been doing studies on that and that's not true. Inciting incident is from a Jew (cries as a Jew) who seemingly is super racist. I'm sure the agent doesn't know that, and some PoC story structures are older in history (also the agent likely doesn't know that.) But this is problematic as it comes off accidentally racist and formulaic.

But then there was this bad take, which might be confusing the subthreads, but should have taken from the subthreads:

https://twitter.com/chronicles_of_n/status/1655562727417323525

The subthreads talked about mswls:

https://twitter.com/Stpolishook/status/1655583477885018120

I own I'm in this subthread, trying to argue that agents aren't "Helpless"

Subthreads also lamented agents asking for shorter and shorter page counts and more specific story structures:

https://twitter.com/MorganSloan215/status/165561094842891469

Also a subthread on comps and setting trends:

I know agents could take this in 2 ways:

That's fair. I could see how this feels like a personal attack with the questions arising and no solutions presented. But no one paused to ask how much industry/knowledge experience any of these people have.

And this is what I see. People are asking a lot of whys, how does it impact the market, make us understand the market. Is what you're posting really driven by the market?

Agents took it the first way, not the second way, unfortunately.

This is a general, not specific answer to the questions inherent above. Is it backed by marketing or not? How much do agents know?

It's saying "it's someone else's fault, not mine. I'm not going to help you with your quest."

Authors disliked this take because it seems like agents are as clueless as authors and we asked shop questions.

Also kinda feels like mswls are personal wishlists because the question wasn't answered: are you taking it from marketing info or not?

Another Agent said if you don't like trad publishing, self-publish:

https://twitter.com/ChelseaBigBang/status/1656069239168434184

I get there were hurt feelings. "And you all hate us, and you don't understand." But the very fact from our POV is we're trying to understand the justifications for it. So the people who want to trad publish, or were entertaining it, especially the diversity writers felt like the people in the list who liked the post were against us. Because the majority of the writers are from diverse backgrounds where "cookie cutter" plot arcs won't work to describe what we're trying to achieve.

Hurt feelings continued when an editor said this:

And writers asked for the same courtesy from agents that ghosted them, and agents vilified the writers. The frustration was reaching a boiling point, because the initial questions weren't being answered at all. Agents wanted something they weren't willing to give back.

Then this tweet happened:

https://twitter.com/SBLitAgent/status/1656429611645906945

This made people really mad and I think some of the anger was unjustified because it was misdirected, but if you have a really important series of questions about the market you want a career in, you want to understand, and someone says, "Well, I make a living from it and you don't. I could be rich doing this, and I really don't care about books. and we know better than you and we're not sharing our information. Live with it." How would you feel? But you asked a valid series of questions about how decisions are made in the industry and you want to innovate diversity stories on top of it. Are they justifying it with market numbers or not?

And really, agents closed ranks, rather than saying that's not cool, which sent writers into another tailspin. Do they not care about us anymore? Why won't they call out this bad behavior and say they will protect us? Why not disavow this agent who says we're just a paycheck? I thought we were in this together. We get you have to work together, but do you really want to close ranks for an agency that says:"if it's too difficult for grown-ups, write for children" https://ktliterary.com/

(Which isn't a call out, it's more like why support this agency saying this about authors?)

Bigolas Dickloas

https://www.insider.com/bigolas-dickolas-wolfwood-trigun-interview-time-war-2023-5

proved some of the adages and the writer's asks as true from our PoV. We can't sell the books on our own. We need other people to support us to get there. And that it's not the length of the beginning pages, as asserted, or the structure, but readers enjoying books and recommending them.

Bigolas Dickolas is a what? Anime fan. And a lot of anime is what? Kishotenketsu. Do agents know that?

So there was celebration that this could be done. At the same time frustration because look, huge fan of anime, and you won't let us have the freedom to tap into the different like anime.

The cover thing...

The cover debacle.

From a pure writer's perspective: So you don't want even spent money to make copyrightable covers anymore? Why are we going for traditional publishing?

I should note that most writers have no hand in their covers. Don't chase down, discuss, think about it.

There is nothing more delightful to a new author than showing off their unique cover that shows what their characters looks like and all foriegn iterations. Many authors are also artists. And we, too, dream of crying, literally tears down or faces at seeing the achingly beautiful covers of our books. And supporting our fellow artists. Because solidarity all the way.

From a personal graphic designer's perspective, we work so hard to make covers and images for you. I used to cry in utter delight at Michael Whelan covers. And daydream about having a cover by him. There's other covers that you can hate the book for, but can't imagine a different cover for it and spend hours admiring the graphics design. As a graphic designer, I'd want that for authors. I'd want them to cry and slowly understand why a cover is the way it is--I mean I made a whole post about covers.

So imagine our disappointment at seeing this is a thing. And you realize you can't copyright an AI image, which puts the cover into a precarious position.

What writers see about Agents

Early in the internet, there were blogs, such as Miss Snark, and others which helped with contracts, how to send a query letter, what's good and Bad, Janet Reid, and agents talking about the business side--that really helped writers and there were long threads about how to approach publishing after Nanowrimo and on other forums, such as Absolute Write.But we don't see that... writers are clueless on how to read contracts, and agents are leaving us high and dry sometimes. Because that's useful info for writers to know. Are there particular weasel clauses we should think about these days? Match this dearth with the attitude above where you're supposed to care about us for more than a paycheck, and how do you think we feel? We pin our hopes and dreams on publishing because we love it, we struggle to try to understand the business to make ourselves attractive, but the backstab is deep when you won't talk about the industry and numbers with us. There's a disconnect.

Miss Snark used to say, hit me with your most creative, no matter what and I'll do my best. She liked to say, "Knock my socks off."

She also said, (between her poodle) that her colleagues would get on her case for doing it, and share how hard it was being an agent, because she'd have to read manuscripts on the way to work. We see your struggles, too, but with the above tweets, the question was, do you understand ours? How much are you willing to help us to the finish line? We know how it works.

Some internet troll is going to misconstrue this as a way to hunt down agents... but she's a fictional agent and retired, so...

We want you to sell and sell hard, but also sho off your selling prowess and innovate the industry. Our books don't have a market. We know that, that's why we're asking you to be our partners--agents editors, and publishers to help us prove we can innovate it. You don't have to be alone.

Demographics of writers

For diversity writers what we were promised from the age we thought, "Hey, I'd like to be published" is, "Ah, this will be an industry that doesn't judge me for things I can't control and we can create empathy for people like me together." And then there is a big shiny sign that says, "Hey, kid, I believe this too. Let's work on this together."

This is the greatest power of books that we were promised from a young age. If we grew up around "We Need Diverse books" then we pinned our deepest hopes on this. We could revolutionize the industry if we understood it deeply enough and worked hard enough to become better writers.

We were told to red everything and consume as wide as ossible, over and over again, but we don't know and can't put our faith in that industry pros are doing the same. I know this sounds like an accusation--it isn't. We just want to talk about what you do and don't know so we can share the info and help each other out.

The writer demographics match the reader demographics by and large, and as avid readers, we also want to reach the same market as the industry pros. We also know the market and are trying to reach it. It's not only, OMG, hobby, let's publish. Some of us try to keep faith while the industry says they hate us. Because we dream of social change towards us and people like us.

The reader demographics tend to match the writer demographics: I ran the survey for 5 years and cross referenced it with Pew research center in my time I'm struggling to find their older studies). So there is more frustration when there are more and more diversity writers around, from our PoV (taking out the internet self-selecting), and still no change in books.

So imagine people like that hearing that too bad, we're not going to share marketing information with you? How would you feel?

Yes, angry, disappointed, but I thought you were on our side~ Why can't you answer our questions? And to be told too bad, you're whining... we make the rules... what does it look like? Can we move forward or not?

By and large, the majority of PoC and diversity writers are POOR and need the support of big publishing to cover the upfront costs. The people who have the spare cash to do self-publishing--pay for editors, reviewers, covers, ISBNs, etc. And we see the market for our books, but trad publishing is still chasing after that elusive white cishet abled NT male.

The FAQ writers have:

- Marketing numbers to back up the requests from agents/editors.

Can we also see them? Why close ranks and say they are industry secrets?

- Is the 10 page count justified by statistics? If so can we see them? Or if it is convenience?

Convenience for the agent or are there market forces at work?

- "It's what sells," what are the numbers to back this up?

- Can we have a conversation about innovating the market, making trends and comps? And if we can go back to elevator pitches?

- Why often pitches and asks for them in public don't result in the agent getting back to us.

- Are there marketing numbers to back mswls, and specific requests? Can we SEE them? Are they whims, or really backed by the market? Can you back it up and SHOW us why you think so? Or was it because it occurred to you over morning coffee and you want to read the book, but not write it? Was it an editor? Writers are hungry to learn about the industry too. Contract help, for example.

- But sometimes the hyper specific mswls and saying and declaring "Trauma doesn't sell" when it was a specific request doesn't feel like it's coming from marketing advice since we have Encanto, Everything Everywhere all at Once, and Turning Red. (I'd mention authors, but I don't want to give them heat.)

- Can you also post more about contracts, loosely. Agents used to boast about particular weasel clauses and how they got a 5% boost on a sale because of X thing. We like that. We love that.

- You know that the paper catalogue back in the day just said genre, send it. Because you have about 30 words to cram into it. But now there are thousands of ways you want to send the manuscript with no clear set rules and it drives even the most neurotypical person into a panic attack as they try to look for the nearest crystal ball. It used to be uniform. Can we get set guidelines similar to what I posted and TALK about it?

The disappointment sometimes turned into disgust as agents didn't talk about it to protect their own, but how would you feel if you've pinned your hopes and dreams your entire life on the joy of books we thought you shared to find out that you won't and can't fight with us and even like the post and appear to feel the same by liking the post saying you're our source of cash? (Especially when those agents claim to be on our side in the diversity struggle and they share the same diversity too.)

We, who wanted to be published with you, are working hard to understand this industry too, so why lock us out like we're less than and not intelligent enough to understand the intricacies. Why can't you talk about it instead of taking it as a personal insult? That's the question rattling around. We wanted to talk shop with you.

- Why do the publishing statistics not match the readership?

- What do you mean by "What sells?" Can you justify it with some market information? It feels terrible when you won't tell us why. Can't we share marketing info?

- We thought that one had to either set a trend--in which case edgy books or be ahead of a trend, rather than follow it--writers are confused on this front. We were told explicitly to not follow trends because by the time we do, they'll be gone. Sometimes it takes a year to write a book. So by the time you see it, it might have been around for 2 years at minimum. Diversity books take longer and we all know it.

- Writers would like more uniform or at least clear submissions guidelines which can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/kimyoonmiauthor/685983497588965376/how-literary-agents-can-help-neurodiverse-people?source=share

BTW, if you have objections, voicing them in a professional way would help me refine the list. I worked with an agent and several writers for that list, and it would be good for everyone.

- We have questions about trauma representation that have gone unanswered by industry pros and often when we ask them we get blocked?

Diversity writers have questions about the same things in publishing. Can we discuss it?

Some of the ones I've seen are why agents are against covid, but want diversity trauma so much, and why can't you ask for nuanced takes and diversity joy? And then follow through? We notice when you don't get a new client after asking for a specific diversity client.

- We have questions about all these quotas we hear about.

"We have a Jewish writer, we don't need more" "We have an X, we don't need you.".

So are our manuscripts being assessed on merit, or by filling a quota, where the rest of the quota is filled by people who don't have diversity to hit phantom numbers like 50-50 male/female though the writer's population matches the reader's population.

- Also foreign markets and the US markets aren't the same, yes, but why are they jumping so drastically forwards, and we aren't? Can you talk shop with us about it?

- Can you allow more diversity of story structures and ways to write a story?

From our end we see things like anime fans talking avidly about their favorite anime, which uses kishotenketsu and jo-ha-kyu, and Korean drama fans who like shows that don't use 3-act structures and do things like Dream record with high viewership. We see things like Bollywood do a complete 180 in 10 years and then look at the West African market in books and television and find they are playing so hard with story and we want in--especially as own voices. We see Encanto take off and do well. We want to tap that market too, and please our domestic readership and international.

In our bones, we know braided narratives so well, that even if they don't have a name in our heads, we produce them anyway...

and we're told: It's not marketable.

https://www.kimyoonmiauthor.com/post/641948278831874048/worldwide-story-structures

But Everything Everywhere All at Once was publicly called a kishotenketsu (Though I felt it matched more closely beat for beat with qichengzhuanhe--I suppose one could debate that), and people were explained it and felt it in their hearts. And Encanto was a Braided narrative with different parts coming together. And there are motifs that our core fanship would recognize, say the old man that is an herbalist from Chinese tales, with zany ideas who helps the hero/heroine out of a lurch (like falling off a cliff and not getting that broken.)

I get it, though, it feels like a huge risk to be able to invite more structures and more story types, but they managed it in the early 19th century with ONLY US-invented story structures. People won't be that confused. What it feels like to writers is that you're not giving us a chance to really dazzle you and show off our understanding of the readership. But we were hoping you, too, loved the media that was prevalent to us when we were growing up and you also wanted change.

We want to be able to tell you a story about being disabled from an own voices POV, and rock your world with how it feels such that it blows the stereotypes out of the water and nuances it so deeply because it's not really about the disability in the end, you walk away from the book stumbling. Don't you want that too?

We want to share our joys, sorrows and let our creativity soar and meet the market *we* see and work on this problem together, so can you see our confusion? Transparency will help with that. Show us the marketing justifications.

Writers also pay attention to markets and passions too. We aren't ignorant to whims, we try our hardest to be plugged in, because it's also our necks on the line, our names on the book, and we aim to do well for the readership, ultimately. We are hoping you are hoping to do the same. We have customers to serve.

I know these asks seem like "You hate all agents" No... that's not the point. We want to understand and talk shop.

Actions to do together

If you want diverse clients, we won't hire you if you sell these.

PoCs also largely have solidarity with each other, so you have a PR issue if you betray one group, because the other groups won't trust you either. Also, why. Also, we appreciate agents that condemn it and say no.

Do everything in this list to set some industry standards and encourage your collegues to do the same: How literary agents can help Neurodiverse People (and everyone) query If you have questions ASK. I like feedback, it's my job. If you don't want it to be public, tag, me let me know, you can use the tumblr ask function and be anonymous and ask me not to post.

Agents that implemented it did it in less than 24 hours. If you are busy, maybe a week, but it's not hard asks.

Worldwide Story structures If you're not educated, then we can help.

Transparency and communication

On our end, we can work to prove the numbers you have maybe are wrong and there is more support for the movement than you think. That you won't have an epic fail if a Japanese own voices author uses Kishotenketsu in their story structure. That someone from Nigeria might have a different understanding of story and it won't fail. Show us the path and what numbers we need to meet and beat to show it won't fail if you're open and honest with us.

There's marketing discussions to be had on this. Maybe we can help work together on a better marketing plan. We can't help you, if you don't communicate with us about what you see and don't stop saying we know better than you. OK, spill, share. Give us the info we need to understand without saying you're superior. We all started somewhere--you did too, you weren't in the womb knowing how to publish a books and the market. Give us the leeway to learn and we'll do our best to also cast out people who aren't there for a friendly conversation and asking about how to work on it together.

https://www.tumblr.com/kimyoonmiauthor/685983497588965376/how-literary-agents-can-help-neurodiverse-people?source=share

Conclusion:

Communication, honesty and transparency are minimum risk. If we work together to make it happen, I think it will. I know that people promote the conflict narrative and individualism in publishing stories--though as I outlined, I think it's more nuanced, but people LOVE stories of cooperation too. And I think we could achieve it if agents, editors, publishers (the people, again), and the writers work together to achieve goals to meet the market.

Remember, a lot of us pinned our hopes on the love of books and stories, some from the age of 2 or 3, and some from the age of a teenager. We want to fight with you to make this the best industry around and kick other country's butts so we look like the most innovative on the block--are you willing to join us?

[catluniscia]

I hate to be that person but it feels like I need to be that person.

If you see some art of mine please don't just like it reblog it, Its the only way for stuff to you know spread on this site, and I am an artist who is you know trying to raise money for herself and be a little more independent in this crap world. I know some of you might be from like twitter or tiktok where you think likes help the post.

It doesn't

If you really like the art, and want to help the artist, please I am begging you reblog the art.

I sure as heck know the tumblr search system is right now infected with bots and like most new posts are yuck...trust me I know I have reported them when on the search for new stuff. But please if you see it via the suggest, or their version of the for you page or what ever, please reblog. Not just me, any artist you see who posted some wonderful art.

This also a long way of saying "I don't feel comfy being the only one rebloging my work" Darn years on deviant art basically shaming any form of "self promo" even if on your own damn page for god knows how long.

Also I ain't doing blaze, I don't have that kind of cash, and I doubt my posts would ever be approved.

[ars0nism]

cis allo queers (terfs) throwing hissy fits because i, an aro trans person critizing them, said cis allo queers throw hissy fits whenever aspec/trans people criticize them is just. so funny. youre achieving nothing youre just proving my point. arent you embarrassed fighting teenagers on tumblr in 2022. arent you embarrassed being a terf in 2022. have you considered closing your blog.

[ysljoon]

Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

[licooo-esthetic]

☆

heyhey~♪

it's licorice! your local ghostkin emo!

this is a personal blog dedicated to not only random little rants throughout the day, but also sharing my own alterhuman and spiritual experiences. probably also put in some kin mems as well.

( sensitive kin mems will be posted with a content warning, both at the start of the post and in the tags )

☆

some things~♪

✗ any pronouns + skull/mocha/bean/brew (he/him dominant)

✗ demisexual-demiromantic trixic ( a bit it too complicated to explain ) and bigender

--

✗ otherkin and fiction ( ghostkin kintype )

✗ my fictionkins include:

✗ licorice cookie ( cookie run: kingdom )

✗ aubrey ( omori)

✗ taki ( friday night fever )

( note that with both aubrey and taki, i consider myself either as them in a different canon/alternate universe or as myself now, so i am not going to talk about them both much. however, i am going to talk about myself as licorice a lot. )

--

✗ taken by the sexiest ( /nsrs ) bitch ever

✗ speaks in third person. sometimes

✗ an artist, writer and amateur music producer

✗ one of the seven hosts of a traumagenic osdd-1b system ;)

✗ minor- and poc-bodied ( asian specifically )

✗ might be neurodivergent

✗ still likes and plays with toys

✗ is in a few fandoms and plays some games ( cookie run kingdom, omori, friday night funkin', monster high and dream girlfriend, to name a few )

--

✗ just recently joined the otherkin community~

✗ currently doesn't work with anything, but is interested in divination ( mostly tarot and oracle )

✗ believes in past lives and alternate universes/timelines

☆

notes~♪

i am the only member of our system that is allowed to run this account. if you found someone else posting shit please report them directly to me~ /nsrs

i don't treat thinga seriously all of the time ( i use humour as a main coping mechanism ), so if that bothers you this is something to take note of.

i. don't exactly have a braincell. i share one with six other people in our head though.

i don't know how to use tumblr yet 🤩 i am a boomer. i am sorry

i use tone tags. sometimes.

i welcome everyone here, but just please don't interact if you fit the basic dni criteria (proship, trans/homophobic, racist, ableist, etc), you are anti-kin and openly hateful towards anything harmless, you're an ed/s-h blog and/or i don't fit *your* dni criteria.

☆

enjoy your stay~ thank you♪

also please don't bully me i beg /lh

[skyesins]

Why I’m No Longer Posting My Fics on Tumblr

At least for now. 

There are multiple reasons as to why I’m no longer going to post here, and I’ll explain them in detail further below, but first, I want to address what will happen to my ongoing fics as well as the ones already posted.

I am NOT deleting any of my already posted fics, and I am NOT moving to Patreon or any paid platform. I know I have “Blind Spot” which is still ongoing, but I will no longer be posting its new updates on Tumblr after Chapter 14. 

Starting in 2021, I will only be posting my chaptered fics on AFF (asianfanfics.com). I will continue to post drabbles on Tumblr if I have any, but as for chaptered fics, I have decided not to continue posting them here. 

If you want to continue reading my stories and get notifications for when I write new ones, then please create an account on AFF. I’ll explain why I’m only going to post fics on AFF, but one of the main reasons is that it’s stressing me out to post on multiple platforms.

Now, to answer the question of why I’m no longer posting my fics on Tumblr, here are my reasons:

Disproportionate amount of feedback to hours spent writing

Tumblr’s unfriendliness towards content creators

Plagiarism and unauthorized reposting

More tools on AFF to stop plagiarism

If you’d like to read more my explanation and future plans, keep reading!

So let me start with the easiest reason to explain first.

1. Disproportionate amount of feedback to hours spent writing

I spend 12-16 hours writing ONE chapter for Blind Spot - the main fic that I’m working on. It takes me an extra 2-3 hours to edit it for Tumblr since I have to change “she/her” pronouns into “you/your” pronouns. 

After all of this work, I only end up getting at most 15 comments/replies with feedback, and that includes feedback as simple as “thanks for the update.” 

Honestly, I don’t mind the amount of feedback I get on Tumblr or lack thereof (especially when it comes to drabbles that I spend 30 minutes to write), but it just doesn’t make sense to keep posting here if that’s all I’m going to get. In fact, I think I get more feedback from anons on my Curious Cat. 

Now, onto my second reason.

2. Tumblr’s unfriendliness towards content creators

Tumblr used to be a decent place to post fics, but lately, it’s been lacking. 

The tagging system on Tumblr DOES NOT work, and only some of my posts show up on the tags for some reason. When I contacted Tumblr Support, they basically told me that they had no explanation for why my posts don’t show up.

The tags not working is infuriating to me because I don’t get any new readers when I post a new chapter or fic. What’s more is that people seem to hate reblogging a post, so I’m left in a continuous cycle of trying to self-promote. 

One of my posts has about 28 reblogs out of 150 notes, and 7 of those reblogs are me. My fic “High Voltage” has about 1,000 notes now, and it only has about 80 reblogs. 

The reason why I post my fics online is so I can share it with other people - otherwise, I would just write for myself and never post online. Tumblr makes it especially difficult to share this content, and for some reason, people can’t give a simple reblog either.

I always ask people to like/reblog a chapter if they like it, and nothing really changes even when I do that, and I don’t think I should have to continuously beg people to do that.

Onto to my third reason.

3. Plagiarism and unauthorized reposting

Tumblr pretty much offers no protection to writers.

Someone plagiarized me during my midterms, and it was extremely stressful trying to sort that out while studying for exams. There’s no report button for plagiarism here, so I had to go out and message the plagiarizer in my own time and ask them to take my work down - and that was just one instance.

In addition, anyone can copy my work from Tumblr within a few minutes. There’s no anti-right-click option on Tumblr, so people have been copying and pasting my fics onto Wattpad without my permission. Unauthorized reposting can be just as bad plagiarism, and I’m sick of having to deal with that too. 

This leads me to my fourth and final reason.

4. More tools on AFF to stop plagiarism

AFF (asianfanfics.com) isn’t as popular as Tumblr since it’s focuses mainly on fanfiction centered around Asian actors, idols, celebrities, etc. However, it offers more protection to writers. 

On AFF, I have anti-right-click protection so people can’t simply copy and download my writing. I can also set my fics to “Subscribers Only” to insure that no random person on the Internet can read my fics and download them. 

In addition, the tags on AFF actually work, and it’s super easy for me to keep track of all the comments and notifications. I don’t have to worry about tag lists because everyone subscribed gets notifications when I post, and I don’t have to rely on reblogs to get exposure.

I am just so much more comfortable posting on AFF than I am on Tumblr, so it’s makes more sense for me to write there instead. 

So, I know that was a lot of information, but I hope everyone understands my decision. It’s just really stressful to continue posting on Tumblr, and I don’t want unnecessary stress for myself in 2021. 

I don’t know when I’ll start posting chaptered fics on Tumblr again, but I am not going to delete this account or any of my already posted fics. They’re already up and available for people to enjoy anyways.

I am NOT charging anyone to continue reading my fics either. Creating an account on AFF (link to my profile here) only takes a minute, and it’s free because all you need is an email. It also has an app for iOS and Android devices, so you can access it from anywhere.

I know some people are going to be unhappy about my decision, but I don’t care. It has gotten really inconvenient for me to keep posting on Tumblr, and it’s just making me super unhappy to be here when there are so many problems. Plus, it takes one minute to support me on another platform.

Blind Spot is my only ongoing fic here and I am going to post one more chapter before uploading the rest on AFF only. 

I hope - when I have more time during my summer breaks - I can go back to posting chaptered fics on Tumblr, but I just don’t see it happening for now. 

I’ll miss talking to everyone and the readers who have supported me and discovered my work on Tumblr. I’ll still be here to read messages and post about any updates, so feel free to send me any questions through my Ask Box or Curious Cat. I am also active on Twitter!

If you’d like to support me by gifting me with a cup of coffee, here’s my Ko-Fi as well!

Happy Holidays to everyone, and thanks again for everything. 2020 wasn’t a great year overall, but in terms of personal improvement, I’m really proud of what I have achieved - and a part of that comes from everyone who has supported and read my work. 

As many people know, I am a second year college student majoring in accounting. Writing doesn’t fit in with my academic goals, and I’m usually always busy with classes, but writing becomes my escape when college and life get tough. It means a lot that so many other people would enjoy my writing, so I’m always and forever thankful. 

Much love 💖

— Skye (AFF)

[coolfire333]

Hi guys!! I’m so glad to be back, it’s been a while!

Basically my blog up and vanished because staff/support terminated me. I didn’t mean to go anywhere and this really pissed me off but I’m back now and I don’t intend to leave tumblr anytime soon. 

I still have no email explaining why I got the boot in the first place and I never got a warning, nothing was flagged either, so I don’t know if I’ll ever know why. But I have returned :)

Getting this problem fixed took literally three weeks and probably over 50 emails, so I’m gonna tell you exactly what I did in case that this helps somebody else with the same problem. 

It’s hard to find suggestions as to what to do if your blog gets terminated, and idk what was the thing I did that finally worked but here’s all that I tried in order. Again, I’m not saying that one of these things is gonna be the magic cure-all, but I’m listing everything just in case:

1. Send in a ticket using support’s form. I made sure to type in my blog name, my email address that I use for my blog, my IP address (you can google “what’s my IP” to find this”), and I also attached screenshots of the termination page. 

If they sent you an email about your termination make sure to attach it if possible, if you’re unlucky like me and this came out of the blue then just try the above. Make sure to say that you think the termination was a mistake because you didn’t violate any guidelines.

Also be polite, I know this situation can panic you but make sure to be nice to support. Vent to somebody else if you need to but you’re essentially at the mercy of support so try not to piss them off, put on your politest face possible and just try to sound formal and friendly. Having to beg for mercy sucks but saying please goes a long way. 

2. Check your inbox. You will likely get one of two cookie-cutter response auto emails:

“Hey there,

Thanks for taking the time to write in to Tumblr! Your request has been received and is being reviewed by our support staff. We'll respond as soon as we can. :^)

Please only reply to the email chain we started, rather than creating new emails or new requests for the same issue. That will help us keep the conversation in one place within our system, and speed up the process of resolving the issue.”

THIS IS THE GOOD EMAIL. Remember this for later. You also could get this response:  

“Hey there,

We got your email. We’re on the case and will respond as quickly as we can.

What should I do now? If you didn’t already, send the permalink of the post you’re reporting. Just reply to this email so everything stays together. Don’t start a new chain or send a new report because those will be routed to the end of the queue.

And please don’t ask your friends to report the same issue. We know they love you, but they’ll clog up our system and make it harder for us to respond quickly.

What if I need help right away? If things have gotten totally out of hand—like someone is threatening physical violence—you should report your concern in detail to the appropriate law enforcement organization.

Best, Tumblr”

The first message with the :^) face is the one you want to get. Whenever I got the second response, I never received a reply at all from tumblr. 

Send a ticket once a day for about a week, I was finally able to get a response when sending emails between 12 noon and 3 pm (eastern time). Reply to old ticket emails as well as sending new tickets once a day.

3. If you haven’t received a reply from someone listed under an actual name after a week of ticket sending and email replying, your email might be blocked. Especially if you are never getting the auto-reply with the :^) but are instead getting the second response. 

This seemed to be the case with me, I don’t know for sure if it’s a blocked email but I literally could not get a hold of them with that email in particular even using a VPN so I assume I was blocked from sending mail with that email address. 

Try using another email account to send the tickets but make sure to mention the email address tied to your blog. Do this until you find an email that gets the :^) messages. 

Sometimes they won’t respond to another address either even if you get the correct :^) message. So then you can do this trick: so my gmail address is essentially in the form of “john.smith”, and when you remove the “.” between the names, tumblr will treat it as a separate email but the messages will go to my “john.smith” inbox. 

Idk if this will work for non-gmail addresses but removing the period in my address when sending in tickets is the only thing that ever got me a response from support. This might also work by adding a period in your address name if you don’t already have one, but I haven’t tested it. 

Downside is that if your blog email address is blocked from sending tickets, you will not be able to reply and also can’t reply using the non-period alias in any tickets you get back with a reply, so make sure to say in the ticket that you cannot email tumblr from your primary email address and ask that they unblock it (just in case)

You then might get a response from a real person (still not totally sure?) from support asking you to send another ticket via the email tied to your blog. Explain to them that your email is blocked from replying and that you haven’t been able to get a response in x number of weeks. They might just keep telling you to wait, or tell you that you need to use your blog email regardless.

4. Try calling their offices. I found a phone number online. It went straight to voicemail so I only used it once, never got a reply, but again this is all that I did so try this just in case.

5. The last thing that I did was I emailed Automattic, the parent company of tumblr. They have a support form you can use. Literally list everything that you did, how long you’ve been waiting, and essentially beg them to be let back in (but also threaten not to use their services again if you are kept terminated). 

They might say to email support if you’re having a tumblr related issue. Don’t lose your head on this, yes it’s annoying but just reply back and say that you haven’t been able to send tickets to support. 

I sent Automattic 1 original response ticket email yesterday and one reply today, and without any further ado I was back. I don’t know if this was because of the Automattic emails or if one of my earlier tickets finally got through, but this is what happened.

[fizzyxcustard]

Fear and Loathing (4)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Tumblr Masterlist of all fics

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Summary: (Part 2 of The Right Thing - this will be a chaptered fic) Captain Hudson knows that you and Lucas are more than just friends, and after changing your shift rotations to make sure you’re not on duty together, you take things into your own hands and request a transfer from seaQuest. Before your transfer can be processed, officers and crew begin showing signs of extreme anxiety, anger and paranoia. Some are worse affected than others, you being one of them. Can you fight for not only your relationship with Lucas but your state of mind?

Pairings: Ensign Lucas Wolenczak x FemLieutenant!Reader, Commander Jonathan Ford x Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson (only slight)

Warnings: Language, violence, insecurity, angst, paranoia, anxiety, mental instability, very mild sexual references/smut mention, age difference/gap.

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask! People are probably wondering why I’m still continuing this fic when it gets so little feedback, but it’s purely because I enjoy writing it. It’d a pleasure to be reminiscing in old times.

That night, while you remained in the Med Bay, the mess hall seemed to begin hosting a midnight coffee refreshment for a handful of crew. Lonnie Henderson wandered into the room, drying the sweat from her brow and neck after waking suddenly from a nightmare of being suffocated by unseen hands. She saw Jim Brody sat with his head in his hands, and one of the engineers was resting with their eyes closed and their feet up on a chair.

“Tough night?” Lonnie asked, approaching Brody.

He gasped suddenly, nearly jolting out of his chair. “Yeah….ugh…..sorry,” he grumbled, and rubbed his face, trying to force himself more fully awake.

“What’s going on tonight?” Lonnie asked. “No one can sleep and everyone is on edge.” She then said your name and her eyes widened. “Do you think it’s got anything to do with her and the virus?”

“I doubt it,” Brody scoffed. “A virus that gives panic attacks and nightmares?”

“Come on, Jim. We’ve seen things more unbelievable than that in the last two years. We’ve contacted aliens and come face to face with Greek gods, yet we can’t believe that a virus may exist which causes panic and fear?”

Lucas remained in the Med Bay that night, falling asleep next to your bed. The gentle beeping of the monitors swept him into a dream. There was water, screams and fear. They were your screams; begging him for help. Lucas only remembered the cold water and your screams as he jerked awake.

Your eyes were open and you were smiling at him. “You okay? Have a bad dream?” you asked, yawning. You felt groggy, but strangely content, especially upon seeing Lucas.

He rushed to you, cupped your cheek and then kissed you softly. But gradually the kiss grew deeper, and hotter, until he pulled away. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Just tired,” you replied.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Can I have a cold drink, please? Soda, milk, water. Just something cold.”

Lucas left the room and you pulled yourself up slowly. A thumping headache began in your temples and behind your eyes, a sure sign of tension and stress that you knew all too well.

***

The next two days saw more crew visiting not only the mess hall at night but the Med Bay, asking for advice on nightmares and panic attacks. Even Captain Hudson had noticed that he seemed more on edge of late. There were far too many crew affected now for it not to be noticeable and not be a problem that needed addressing.

Jonathan Ford and Tim O’Neill, along with a couple of the engineers, Dagwood, the chief cook and the doctor himself, were the only people who seemed to be unaffected. Every other person was showing symptoms, to varying degrees, of fear, panic and dread.

On the third day of you being in the Med Bay, a mild sedative still in your system to calm the nightmares you were having a night, you were awoken to Lieutenant Fredricks being pulled into the room by Brody and O’Neill.

“Please, don’t. They’ll run experiments on me,” she wept, pulling against the two men either side of her.

The screams had pulled you out of another beckoning nightmare with the visiting shadow demon, who sometimes came to you at night and stood at the foot of your bed. All of the noise and commotion shook you to the core, causing a shockwave of anxiety to race through you like a power surge. But your concern for your comrade still trumped the fear you felt.

“Freddie?” you called to her. She continued weeping uncontrollably as Brody and the doctor held her down on the bed, ready to administer a sedative. “Freddie? You’ll be okay. I promise. They won’t hurt you.” You slipped out of bed, almost falling in your weakness, and you took her hand in yours. “Shhh, it’ll be okay.”

The feel of your hand in hers, and your kind words, soothed Fredricks as the sedative was administered by the doctor.

“How can she feel so much fear when she has an implant?” Brody asked.

“The virus is somehow overpowering every other emotion in those who are the worst affected,” the doctor replied. “I don’t think the sedatives, long term, will be enough. The UEO still has no idea what’s causing this. They’re requesting blood works be sent of each crew member who is affected, which is over eighty per cent. I don’t know if I can get that many reports sent over all at once in the time frame they’re asking for.”

“How long are they asking for, Doc?”

“A week. I’ve only got the capacity to run five blood samples every twelve hours. That’s ten every twenty-four hours, and there are well over a hundred crew affected by this. If this gets worse, we may have to abandon the tour and return to land to fully hospitalise and test everyone. And we don’t know how contagious this is or where it came from.”

By the end of the week, the Med Bay was full. Most of the crew were utterly exhausted through lack of sleep due to night terrors. Frequent fights were breaking out over mundane issues. The latest fight had been when Tony Piccolo had had the last croissant at breakfast, pissing off an engineer. A broken nose and black eye later, Tony found himself in the Med Bay for a couple of hours.

You still kept dreaming of the shadow demon, and often you huddled under the covers, hiding from him, just in case he appeared at the end of your bed again. The fear seemed to come in waves; you would be peaceful for a few hours and then suddenly feel the panic rise and see the shadow at the end of your bed, set with glowing eyes and saliva dripping from sharp fangs. Nights were horrendous as that’s when the most fear came out to play and it hung over you all like a thick mist. Fredricks often woke screaming in the bed next to you. The engineer in the bed opposite you had had regular seizures. Thankfully, you had only had one.

The milder cases meant that crew had to continue working, despite being exhausted. Jonathan Ford felt as though he had had no sleep in a week. Every waking moment and he was on the bridge, taking the helm for part of it while Hudson tried to ward off the anxiety that was beginning to get the better of him. Tim O’Neill hadn’t seen his quarters in days, and was often found most nights dozing off in his seat on the bridge. Dagwood had even offered to help, but his kind offer was politely rejected.

Captain Hudson had been having regular talks with Secretary McGath, and it was now becoming a viable option to abandon the tour and return to shore. However, this virus was still unknown, and the UEO would have to make sure that strict quarantine procedures were put in place once the seaQuest returned to its berth. Crew would not be able to disembark immediately. McGath reassured Hudson that everything that could be done by the UEO was being done. The blood samples were being tested; each crew member, one by one, even those who were not affected and weren’t showing symptoms. Some were being tested multiple times. Even full genome scanning had now begun to try to pinpoint some kind of link to all those affected. The UEO had already received the sub’s black box recordings, knowing exactly where it was at any given time. No other infections had been reported in the waters recently visited.

Lucas lay in his bunk, listening to Tony’s snores from below. The snores had been louder and more obnoxious since his broken nose. Lucas was scared to sleep. Dark circles were beginning to frame his blue eyes, marring his pale complexion. Every evening and he visited you, sitting with you for a couple of hours. He would read to you, trying to soothe your nerves. But Fredricks’ outbursts would put you on edge and Lucas knew that any kind of relaxation was impossible. Whenever he closed his eyes, Lucas would see the water and hear you calling for him. It all felt so real, maybe too real.

The hallways were quiet, but then he would feel the energy buzzing from the mess hall, which was usually full of half dozing crew. Should he go for a wander tonight? Maybe a swim with Darwin would help. Or would the water only exacerbate the dreams?

He didn’t know how long he lay awake, but Lucas looked up at the pipes which ran above his bunk. He looked at the photo of you both which he had taped to the metal. You had your eyes open wide, shocked, whilst Lucas was gritting his teeth, pretending to be angry. He remembered fondly all the staged photographs that Tony took of you both whenever you were on shore leave back when Captain Bridger was aboard. There was such a happiness and peace amongst the crew. He remembered when Jim Brody had attempted to flirt with you once or twice, for him only to be scoffed at. Flirting had never impressed you. Humour and compassion impressed you.

He missed you so much, and slowly he turned over, pulling a pillow to his chest, trying to imagine it was you. To think that Lucas had been prepared to give up his place on seaQuest when he met Sandra just over a year ago. She had deceived him, pretending to interested in a relationship, when she only wanted the emergency codes to gain access to seaQuest. And now he was with you. It was a much, much deeper connection, that ran right through to his bones. It had become a dependency on you, a need, and considering that you were the one who had taken his virginity, that made everything so much stronger. Even though he had always had a crush on you since your first meeting, his very brief relationship with Sandra helped him forget the unrequited feelings he had for you. But then they came back even stronger. You had been the one to pick up the pieces of his broken trust that she had left behind.

Lucas lay awake, his eyes stinging with fatigue. Until finally he jumped down from his bunk and wondered out into the hallway, venturing towards your quarters. He just wanted to be close to you in some way, even if only sleeping on your bed.

The room smelled of you, sweet and flowery. And as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, Lucas smiled to himself. There was a small stack of books on your desk with a pot of pens, all alongside your computer. A potted, ornamental plant and two matching china owls decorated the desk.

On your bed was your favourite patchwork quilt and on the wall were photos and little drawings that you had doodled. Lucas looked closer at the photos, recognising a few of you both with other members of the crew on shore leave. Then there were pictures of you with people whom he had never seen before, no doubt old friends or family members.

Lucas lay on your bunk and wrapped himself in your quilt, inhaling. He immediately felt warmth radiate through his chest and stomach, easing the tension. Exhaustion made it impossible for him to stay awake any longer, and gradually he fell into a deep sleep.

The dream changed; it was no longer water, but darkness. A light shone in the distance, a faint candlelight and when he got closer to it, he saw that he was standing in an empty garden. A candle, resting in a glass jar was upon the grass. He picked up the candle and began to walk, following a pathway. The whole place was empty, quiet and dark. The feeling of being so alone made Lucas’ heart speed up, pounding like a drum in his chest. Where was everyone?

He began to call, hoping someone would answer. But nothing. No one was there. Everyone had deserted him.

With a gasp, Lucas woke suddenly. He wiped his cheek, only to feel a tear clinging to it.

***

Captain Hudson reluctantly agreed for UEO officers to come aboard seaQuest in two days’ time to begin the gradual emptying of the sub of all crew. The crew would be taken to a contained quarantine facility in Florida whilst tests were still being carried out and their symptoms could be monitored closer.

Secretary McGath’s image dominated Hudson’s screen in his quarters. “Captain, it’s obvious that the crew aren’t recovering from this virus, whatever it is, and bringing the seaQuest into berth could possibly cause a contamination of the coastlines.

“So you’re saying that the boat has to be left out here in the middle of the Atlantic with no crew aboard?” Hudson asked in disbelief.

“Oliver, what else do you propose we do? The biggest cause for concern is the sub’s bio skin which can quite easily carry viruses and disease. Until we know what this virus is and how it’s affecting the crew, we have no other option. seaQuest will have to remain dead in the water until our chief scientists have figured out what needs to be done. All the sub’s recordings and mission data are still being analysed.”

***

seaQuest tag list: @shrimpsthings​

[giuliafc]

Stuck in a Cabin (with you) chapter 3

Read on Ao3 || FFN || Wattpad (link to chapter 1)

Summary: Summoned to save his Lady's life, Adrien gets stuck with her in a cabin during a blizzard. Identities get revealed, feelings come out...but who's been plotting to kill Marinette? Will the culprit be punished? Read to find the answer :) (Adrienette)

Read previous chapter here on Tumblr

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama and genxha. Thank you all so much!

Cover Art credit: Rosehealer02 on Deviantart

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 3 — Prince Chat-ming

“WHERE IS SHE, TIKKI?” cried Chat Noir when they reached the lake. The place was silent and not even the sound of the cars in the distance seemed to come to his ear, probably muffled by the billowing wind and the snow that had already wrapped the whole park in its white canopy. If he hadn’t been this terrified, the view would have been breathtaking. But the adrenaline rush running through his body kept his concentration on the task. His eyes darted around, looking for the signs he had seen the evening before when he had come here after the first half of the photoshoot. But he couldn’t find any, they were all vanished in thin air.

A really bad feeling started growing in his gut. This looked like a set up!

“I don’t know…” admitted the kwami, breaking his thread of thought. “I had gotten a couple of landmarks but the new snow must have covered them.” She zoomed away and started zipping around the whole length of the lake, appearing to be always more reckless and anxious. She zipped at the centre of the lake mostly, then she went on the other side, then back there again. Until she erupted in a scream.

“Here, Chat Noir, here!” She pointed at where she wanted him to be.

He ran as fast as he could, while he picked up the blue slice of cheese and put it into his mouth shouting, “POWER UP!” he barely managed to transform into his aqua form before diving into the water. For a second he literally turned into ice. God, it was bloody freezing! The water seemed to be stabbing his skin everywhere even if he was wearing his suit. But he forced himself to get used to the temperature and to the dim light quickly, and his gaze started darting in the water trying to find his Lady.

And that’s when he saw her. His heart stopped.

‘No. It can’t be. It can’t be her. No, no, no, no, no… that’s impossible!’

“MARINETTE!!” he screamed, as he swam towards the motionless form and grabbed her with one hand in a manic frenzy, using his enhanced swimming capabilities to get to the surface quickly. It didn’t seem to work, his limbs were too cold and the water felt almost thick against his arm. Shoot. He looked at Marinette’s face and his heart skipped a beat.

His very good friend Marinette. The one whose smile always lit up his day. His everyday Ladybug. The cute, shy, awesome girl who was also one of the strongest people he knew and had been able to stand up to his dad when they had gone to New York. Creative, sweet, determined Marinette. She was his Lady. How did she manage to trick him that well? He clearly remembered having suspected her, but having changed his mind when Kwamibuster attacked because he saw her next to Ladybug! Did she use the Fox Miraculous? She was too clever for her own good.

‘FOCUS! Don’t think about it. Save her now. Freak out later!’

Suddenly, he thought back to the time they faced Evillustrator, when Marinette had shown him how to use his own baton. His lips curled into a small smile. Of course. He picked up his baton from the small of his back and extended it, while holding it tight. The baton reached the bottom of the lake and then started propelling them up and up, until they were out of the water. He waited until it reached a long enough length to have a panoramic view of the lake, and then used the baton to make himself and his Lady fall to the snow-covered grass on the shore. His eyes were full of tears as he held Marinette bridal style to his chest, his heart pounding inside his throat. Was he too late? She was so pale! And cold!

“S-SHE’S N-NOT B-B-BREAT-T-HING!” he said with his teeth chattering, in utter panic, as his ear pushed on her chest to see if she had a heartbeat. A new layer of snow was starting to dust her figure and her hair was already almost covered.

“She must have started to drown, Chat Noir! You need to help her breathe.”

Chat Noir tried to think, although the shivers running through his body and the chattering of his own teeth were so distracting. “I-I n-need t-to… C-P-R…” he managed to say, but then he hesitated.

“What are you waiting for, Chat Noir? Please help her!” begged Tikki. “I can’t do it.”

Although the cold was still biting at him like a rabid dog and he felt his hands slowly turning into ice, he couldn’t help blushing as he nodded warily at Tikki’s plea. Luckily, his father had demanded that he take a first aid course when he had started modeling, as part of the health and safety regulations of the Gabriel brand, and there he had been explained what to do when performing CPR. He knew he had to do it, or she would die.

But it still felt so much like a kiss.

‘Focus, Adrien. She’s dying!’ he thought and gave himself a firm slap in the face to shake himself up. With a determined frown, he moved her head up by pushing on her chin, to give her more room to breathe. Then he put his hands on her chest as he had been shown in the course and started compressing (why had that been such a long time ago? Shouldn’t he have gotten refreshers from time to time, he wondered), trying to remember what to do and how long to count.

Thirty compressions.

Then he gulped and with a firm movement, he opened her mouth and started blowing air into it.

One. two.

Repeat. Chest.

Thirty compressions.

Repeat. Mouth.

One. two.

Repeat. Chest.

Thirty compressions.

Repeat. Mouth.

One. two.

His heart was racing madly in his chest, hoping that he was doing it correctly, as he remembered from the course that if it was performed the wrong way it could have been even more detrimental.

‘Please, Marinette. Please breathe! Breathe for me!’

Hands on her chest. Thirty compressions.

Air in her mouth. One. T—

Marinette started coughing and a massive sigh of relief filled his lungs. He suddenly remembered something that his instructor had said and refrained from hugging her, paying attention to move her a little on the side so she wouldn’t choke again on the water coming out of her mouth. The sound of her laborious breaths was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Now that she had breathed a little, he dared picking her head up and gave her a hug, tears flowing down his eyes on his cheeks, almost getting frozen mid way.

“I need to take her to the hospital,” he announced, picking her up bridal style. She had fallen unconscious again.

“She needs to be warmed up, Chat Noir, and quickly. Do you know where the closest hospital is?” asked Tikki, zipping in front of him and floating on his nose.

He sighed. “No idea. But,” he picked up his baton from the ground, “we can easily check.” He turned on his communicator and saw yet another news alert. He opened it up and saw Nadja Chamack already talking. “—ed. I highlight: Code Red. Stay in. Stay safe. More accidents have been reported on the road. The queue at the local hospitals has increased to three to four hours just to be registered, and even longer to be seen. If you don’t need to go out, sta—” The screen of his baton flickered and turned black. Chat Noir blinked and gave it a shake, trying to get the screen to turn on again.

“What’s going on?” he said to himself, not really expecting an answer.

“Either your phone has died in the cabin or there’s a loss of GPS signal so big that the baton cannot function properly,” said Tikki.

“Shoot!” cursed Chat Noir under his breath. “My phone was nearly dead earlier. What do I do now?”

Tikki sighed. “You heard Madame Chamack. Marinette doesn’t have three to four hours to wait, she needs to be looked after now.”

“Usually, emergencies are dealt with much faster,” argued Chat.

“Can you take that chance?” Tikki looked at him with utter concern in her big blue eyes. Chat Noir lowered his gaze.

“No,” he said in defeat. Then he looked at Tikki again. “I’ll look after her. The cabin should have some blankets, and it’s much warmer than outside.” He saw the wee Goddess of Creation finally curl her lips into a smile and he held Marinette more safely in his arms, bridal style.

“S-so c-cold—” muttered Marinette in his arms, shivering like a leaf. That was the final incentive. Chat Noir grabbed his baton and used it to propel himself forward, trying to reach the cabin as quickly as possible.

oOoOoOoOoOo

“Claws in,” said Adrien as he placed Marinette carefully on the small sofa in the cabin. He made to look for a blanket into the cabinet near the heating system, but as he was walking towards it, Plagg zoomed in front of his face.

“CHEESE!” he demanded.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You’ve eaten it all earlier, Plagg. How big is your stomach exactly?”

“You have no idea!” whined the wee black furball, but Adrien didn’t give him any more attention. He opened the press and started rummaging for a blanket, which he found almost immediately. He walked straight back to Marinette and made to wrap her under the blanket.

“That won’t be enough, Adrien,” said Tikki, flying in front of him and stopping him. “You will only make the blanket wet.”

“What do you mean? She’s cold, she needs to be covered up.”

Tikki kept her tiny body between the blanket and Marinette. “You need to take her clothes off. She can’t warm up wearing freezing wet clothes.”

“WHAT?” Adrien's face flushed the color of Ladybug’s suit. “Tikki, I-I c-can’t undress her!”

Tikki gave him a scrutinous look and frowned. “Why? You have two perfectly functional arms and hands. You can certainly take her clothes off.”

“I-I’M A BOY!”

“And she’s a girl who could die of hypothermia!” Plagg appeared munching a crumb of cheese he must have found somewhere in the room, and floated next to Tikki, giving him an amused stare. He folded his tiny paws on his chest and added scornfully, “Who cares if you’re a boy, a girl or even a dog?”

“B-B-B-B-U-T…” Adrien started breathing heavily. “She’s going to kill me!”

“I don’t think so,” said Tikki and Plagg continued, “You need to do it or she will die. I’m sure she will be grateful, gamin.”

“C-cold…” muttered Marinette from the couch. He dashed to her to check if she had woken up — but no, she was still unconscious, probably talking in her sleep. God, she was so pale, she was still shivering badly, her teeth were a constant chattering and her lips were blue. He touched her hands, and they were pieces of ice.

He took a big breath. “O-okay,” he said and started taking her coat off, and then her black blazer, and put everything on the ground next to the small sofa. When she was left in her bra and underwear, he gulped and hesitated.

“Would this be enough?” he asked, looking at his two small companions with a fearful frown. To keep himself occupied he started drying her skin with a dry towel. She was still shivering.

“Would you like to sleep with freezing wet underwear on?” asked Plagg in response.

No, he wouldn’t. But… he couldn’t possibly justify. No, he couldn’t. He ran a hand through his hair and thought carefully of the situation, scratching firmly the nape of his neck. He tried to gain some time by picking a towel and starting to dry her hair. He suddenly realised that she was still having her hair combed into her pigtails, so he put the towel down to take off the elastic bands that held them together.

Shoot. He’d never thought that it would be that hard to detangle elastic bands from wet hair. He felt her wincing as he gave the elastic a firm push and took it off. Quite a few strands of hair came off with it—he felt terrible, but he picked up the towel and carried on drying her hair for a few moments, trying to take away most of the wetness.

He still had the other problem, the wet underwear, which he didn’t want to remove. At least not without her being covered. Wait, that’s it! His face brightened and his lips curled in a triumphant smile, as he’d just had an idea and it could really work. He picked up the blanket and placed it on the now soaking wet leather sofa. Then he quickly dashed to the cabinet and got another blanket, which he wrapped around Marinette’s body. Good, now that she was covered, he breathed easier. He moved her towards him and put his hands inside the blanket, starting to fiddle with the little hooks on her bra. Finally, after some effort he managed to open it up and take it off, with some struggle (he was trying to prevent the blanket from falling off as he did so). Then, he picked up a smaller towel and passed it blindly on her wet skin to dry it, making sure that he wasn’t touching anything inappropriate with his bare hands. But as he proceeded to move to the other piece of lingerie that was left on her, he stared at his hands, literally shaking.

“Told you he was useless, Sugarcube,” muttered Plagg from somewhere behind him, his voice full of mockery and mischief. Adrien turned his head to glare at this little friend.

“I’m not,” he argued.

“You are,” argued back Plagg. “Take that piece of fabric off already. You covered her, right? You won’t see anything.”

Adrien sucked his breath in. His heart was in his throat right now. He moved his hands underneath the blanket and had to run them on her body trying to find the border of her knickers. Oh God, she was so cold! When he found the underwear, he pulled it off, let it fall on the floor on top of the other clothes and gave even that part a blind and very quick drying.

When he let even the towel slip on the floor, he breathed better, his head resting against the blanket that wrapped Marinette. Thank God, that bit was done. He thought he was going to die! He carefully let go of Marinette and placed her on top of the blanket he had wrapped on the sofa.

“Good, about time,” muttered Plagg. Again, the wee black furball zipped in front of his nose and looked at him, a gleam of mockery shining through his electric green eyes. “Now it’s your turn.”

Adrien gave Plagg the most confused look ever. “Huh?”

“Adrien,” said Tikki moving next to Plagg, as her little paw touched Adrien’s cheek. “Marinette needs body heat. You need to undress and get under that blanket with her, and hug her until she warms up.”

His heart stopped. “I NEED TO DO WHAT?” he squealed, his eyes as big as saucers as he looked at Tikki in pure and utter terror. "She's naked, Tikki!"

“Come on, you’ve always wanted to do this. Take your clothes off and cuddle her already!” Plagg snorted.

Tikki blinked and then rolled her eyes. “Stinkysock! You’ve got no tact, at all.”

“It's not a question of tact. I know him, Sugarcube. If we let him take his time, Pigtails is going to freeze to death.” Plagg snorted again. “Gamin, come on. Man up and do your job. You want to protect her, right?”

“Adrien, please. The longer you wait the worse Marinette will get. Do it for me. Or for h—”

“—or for whomever. As long as you do it. Her lips are getting bluer than Duusu.”

Adrien gave them a pleading look. Then he gulped, looked at Marinette’s blue lips, shivering limbs and pale complexion and gave them another pleading look.

“Please, Adrien, we would do it ourselves if we could, but we’re too small!”

Adrien whimpered, but his hands started working their way to his coat. He took his coat off and his skin was greeted with the cold temperature of the cabin. God, it was freezing! Did the heater even work? He hadn’t turned it off before getting out of the cabin, it had been on all day! He proceeded to take off his overshirt, and then his black t-shirt. He shivered.

“Ugh!” he muttered and folded his arms around his chest, trying to warm up. The heater was at full heat, he noted, but the cabin was still freezing.

“Come on!” ordered Plagg. Adrien glared at him, but stood up and took his jeans off. Uh, bloody hell, he had goosebumps!

“What are you waiting for, Christmas?” asked Plagg when Adrien had been left with only his boxers to cover him. Adrien forced himself to get out of his self-induced panic and slipped into the blanket, shaky hands reaching the body of the girl of his dreams and pulling her close.

She. Was. A. Piece. Of. Ice! Oh God!!

He gasped so loudly that Tikki flew near him and looked at him with a frown.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Just being spineless,” spurted Plagg mockingly, gaining another glare from his chosen.

“She’s so cold!” whimpered Adrien, but forced himself to embrace her firmly with his arms and squeezed her against his chest. He wrapped his body around her, trying to keep contact with as much of her skin as possible. His hands started rubbing her back and arms, trying to create heat from friction.

Slowly, very slowly, so slowly that for a while he thought that Tikki and Plagg had been mistaken and he really should have taken her to the hospital, Marinette began warming up. As she warmed up, the rigidity in her limbs faded and without waking up, she started hugging him back.

When he realised that Marinette was finally warm and out of danger of hypothermia, Adrien detangled himself from her hold and let himself fall off the front of the sofa.

“Are you hurt?” asked Plagg, looking at him with no real concern from the cushion he had placed himself.

“No,” answered Adrien, “Marinette isn’t frozen anymore. I want to find some clothes to change her into. You know, to prevent her from killing me when she wakes up.” He shivered as the freezing cold of the cabin hit his bare skin, but he proceeded towards the wardrobe.

Plagg sighed and shook his head. “I told you way too many times that you worry too much, gamin. Sleep and when she wakes up she can dress herself!”

“At least a t-shirt, come on…” muttered Adrien chattering his teeth. He rummaged among the spare photoshoot clothes that were left in the cabin — sometimes a t-shirt or a pair of trousers didn’t fit the ensemble and had to be changed. There was no lingerie (and if there had been, Adrien wouldn’t even have touched it. Ew!), but after a quick scan, he finally emerged from the pile holding an XXL t-shirt that he would easily be able to put on Marinette. It was so oversized that he was sure it would cover enough of her minute figure to make it safe. It wasn’t really nice to look at, but it was something.

He approached Marinette and lifted her head softly to put the neck hole of the t-shirt on. Then he proceeded to put one of her arms in the arm hole, and as he was doing that he noticed that Marinette had opened her eyes. Blood drained from his face.

“Mhhhhh,” she murmured, and drifted off back to sleep instantly. Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. He finished to fit her arm on the t-shirt and then moved her slightly to put on her other arm, making sure that the blanket was covering Marinette’s chest. When the t-shirt was on, he pulled it down and admired his work. Yes, it was reasonably okay, the t-shirt was covering her enough.Of course she was still naked underneath it, but at least it was one layer to separate her from… him. With one firm movement, he buried himself again underneath the blanket, and as if she’d been there waiting for it, Marinette wrapped herself around him again subconsciously.

Soon after that, Adrien’s adrenaline rush dissipated. Marinette was finally warm and soft against his body and the smell of coconut and wildflower coming from her hair hit his nostrils. Her regular breathing was tickling the crook of his neck, and he found himself gently stroking her hair, the only part of her body that was still a bit damp, and cold. Her hug had grown stronger as her temperature raised, and now she was holding him tightly.

It was becoming always more difficult for him to keep his eyes open. He hadn’t thought about it as he panicked trying to rescue her, but the run and the manic CPR session, had really taken a toll on him, even if he’d been transformed. Add to that the long day in school and the even longer afternoon posing for the photoshoot—Adrien was exhausted. He placed a light kiss on her forehead.

“Mhhhhh, me and you against the world, mon Chaton,” she murmured in his ear.

His heart started racing as a smile curled his lips. He grabbed one of her hands, tugged around his waist, and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

“Always, My Lady,” he whispered before drifting off to sleep.

---------------------------------

Author’s Note:

Hi again! Here’s chapter 3. Marinette is safe. Adrien… hum… don’t know about that XD

In the next instalment of “Stuck in a cabin (with you)”, “Trapped”:

— “What can be more urgent than the ceiling risking to fall on our head?”

— “Look at me, I’m the IMAGE of calm.”

— “Well, this gentlecat deserved a reward, right?”

So… I hope that you enjoyed the fluff at the end of the chapter. This isn’t the end, though. Let me know what you thought about it and drop me a comment! I will continue soon :) can’t promise I will publish every week, but let me know what you think and I’ll publish as soon as I can. Please subscribe if you’re interested in knowing what is going to happen, so you will know when the next update is!

And please check out my other WIPs, “When Magic Fails”, “Caught in the Loop”, “Errata Corrige” and “La Caverne du Papillon d’Or”!

Last but not least, as usual, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon. Not sure when I will update this story but it won't be too long! Promise!

[secret-engima]

You’re probably gonna be mad I’m asking, but what happens to Cloud-as-Prompto when Cor and the other citadel adults figure out his home situation?

*sigh-laughs* I’m not mad, I’ve known for a while now that Tumblr is filled with enablers and the moment I yote a new AU into existence it would get asks about it XPP. Alright then buckle up NEW FICLET:

-It takes them a while to figure it out, not because Cloud/Prompto is ... particularly hiding it, he just makes sure to never mention it because he doesn’t want any drama and the adults at first assume everything is fine.

-When Prompto stays over for sleepovers with his new friend the Prince, they are mostly concerned with security, not with the boy’s home life. They assume his parents gave permission, because- well- the Citadel, of course their child would be safe there.

-But then he keeps coming over for sleepovers more and more frequently, to the point one day Cor sits up and realizes he hasn’t seen anyone take Prompto HOME in about two weeks now and THAT raises red flags. He discreetly asks around and all the servants confirm that no, Prompto hasn’t gone home in two weeks. He goes to school with Prince Noctis and then comes to the Citadel with him.

-Alarm bells fully ringing now, Cor goes to ask Prompto about it himself, because surely there’s an explanation that isn’t the one poisoning the tip of his tongue.

-Prompto looks up from the video game he’s playing with Noctis when Cor enters, and something in Cor screams. He’s been politely avoiding the boy for the most part, one because his job does genuinely keep him busy and two because he doesn’t want to ... put expectations on the boy that shouldn’t be there. This is not the baby he gave away for the boy’s own safety, not the baby he grew so attached to hauling him out of the lab and to safety in Insomnia over the course of months. This boy is one who has been raised from age 1 in a loving, proper home environment, who has no memory of who Cor is beyond the “Immortal” persona the media touts. Cor SHOULD be looking at a happy, gentle child, if a shy, quiet one from all reports of the servants.

-So why is he looking into the eyes of a soldier?

-Noctis pauses their game and bounds up, eagerly asking why Cor has come to visit. Cor idly pats Noctis’s head without taking his eyes off Prompto, who stares back with assessing blue eyes. There is warmth there, a sort of trust Cor assumes must come from Noctis’s stories (because there is no way the boy remembers those months on the run, no way), but aside from that spark, there is no childishness. No naivety. He doesn’t see the shyness the reports mention, he sees the cool assessment of a soldier, watching the world for threats.

-Cor begins to feel sick.

-He hides it and gently asks Prompto about what he’s noticed, about the two weeks of unbroken sleepover, and does Cor need to call his parents? Is everything alright? They DO know where he is, don’t they?

-Prompto shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. He tells Cor that everything is fine, Zack (Prompto’s nickname for Noctis, though Cor has no clue as to the logic behind it) just wanted him to stay over this long, that’s all. No, Cor doesn’t need to call his parents, everything is fine, he likes being in the Citadel with his friend.

-Prompto doesn’t answer the last question. Cor asks it again. Prompto’s gaze flickers away with something akin to ... hurt. Not the guilt of a child, but the unease and simmering anger of someone who is thinking “why now? Why do you care now?” and Cor feels dread as Prompto shrugs.

-That’s not an answer, he tells Prompto.

-Prompto sighs and shrugs again, “I left them a note. I don’t know if they’ve read it by now or not. Depends on if they came home before heading to their next conference.”

-And Cor’s world drops out from under him.

-Cor asks more questions until Prompto seems to get distressed and suddenly Noctis is there, bristling protectively, a too-old glint of magic in his eyes that only happens when a genuine tantrum of all tantrums is on the way. Noctis tells Cor to get out and Cor evacuates. He has research to do anyway.

-It takes him a week to compile all the clues and reports and evidence (a week Prompto spends with Noctis, a still unbroken “sleepover” that is now alarming in its length). It takes him several hours in the training room before he is sane enough to present his findings to Regis.

-He glares at Regis and Clarus the entire time they read. Tries very, VERY hard not to sound accusing when he asks what they want to do now (tries hard not to let his fury leak into his voice or manner, his urge to scream at them because THEY were the ones who vetted the couple that adopted Prompto, THEY were the ones who were supposed to know what decent parents looked like and pick a good home life for the baby Cor brought home, not the child soldier, not Cor, and look at where it’s led).

-He is mildly gratified by the look of guilt on Clarus’s face and the horrified anger on Regis’s.

-The Argentums are a very respected couple, upstanding members of their community, hard workers, and donators to charity. They are well liked by their colleagues and peers, trusted by their employers to the point they get sent often on business trips on behalf of the company, and while they are by no means RICH, they are comfortably middle class.

-None of the people Cor’s agents had interviewed, not even the ones who considered themselves close friends of the Argentums, even knew they had a child. If it weren’t for the school attendance records, yearly checkups at the local hospital, and periodic purchase of toys for Christmas and birthdays, there would be no evidence that Prompto Argentum even EXISTED.

-Toys were not a replacement for love and presence in a child’s life, and the Argentums were definitely NOT doing that.

-“Cor-” Clarus starts, Cor growls at him, feral and furious and hurting, his fingers itching with the memory of holding the child he saved from that lab, his heart shuddering with the memory of how the boy had reached for him and cried when he handed him off to what Cor had been PROMISED would be loving, gentle parents.

-“You will FIX this,” Cor snarls wetly.

-Regis nods, his magic unfurling to settle on Cor’s shoulders like an apology and sympathetic anger all in one, “We will contact child services immediately and have him removed form their custody. I will personally ensure this is kept quiet and away from the media. The Argentums are not ... unreasonable people. Once they are shown the evidence of their own- their own neglect, I’m certain they will give him up without a fight. We’ll find suitable-.”

-“You will give him to me.” Clarus and Regis stop and stare at Cor. Cor who’s hands are balled into shaking fists and his lungs stinging with the fury he thought he’d worked out in a training room, “We did it your way and Prompto has been neglected all his life. Give him to me.”

-Regis’s lips thin in worry, “Cor, raising a child is- a huge responsibility, they require a great deal of time-,”

-“Time the Argentums never spent?”

-“There is also security to think of, it has been seven years since you broke into that lab, but there is still a chance someone will look at his age and realize what he is.”

-Cor can feel his teeth grinding, “Just say it’s because he’s Noctis’s friend. I took him in for security purposes, to ensure the prince’s best friend was well protected. He can even keep the Argentum surname. He looks like them, no one will think of the lab baby that disappeared.”

-Clarus reached out and gently touched Cor’s shoulder, “And if he does not want to live with you? You’re a stranger to him, Cor. A FAMOUS and intimidating stranger.”

-Cor comes so close to punching Clarus in the mouth it’s a miracle he doesn’t. He shakes off Clarus’s hand and storms out, back to the training rooms to try to get a measure of his sanity back.

-The entire process is kept very, very quiet. With the king himself backing the order and Prompto’s original origins weighing in the back of their minds, the Argentums fold to the claims and give up Prompto without a fight. Cor thinks there is genuine regret and heartbreak in their eyes, genuine surprise and horror when their crimes are listed before them. As if they hadn’t realized until that moment just how MUCH time they spent away from the house and the little boy they claimed to love. Cor feels nothing but anger toward them.

-Prompto is informed of his removal from their custody only after the fact and he goes very, very still. Something cold lingers in blue eyes as he quietly asks if he’s going to be placed in the foster system. Cor is angry again that Prompto doesn’t ask about his parents, doesn’t demand to go back to his “mom” and “dad” (is angry that he calls them “the Argentums”, like he never thought of them as parents in the first place). Noctis is clinging to his best friend with wide eyes and instantly begs Regis to adopt “Cloud” so they can be brothers. Regis smiles sadly and explains he can’t do that, it would put a spotlight on Prompto that he doesn’t need, and that Prompto deserves to go to new parents who can spend time with him.

-“I don’t want them.” Everyone stops and looks at Prompto. Prompto glares at the floor, works his jaw and carefully outlines each word on his tongue before saying it, “I don’t want to go to new parents. My last ones didn’t care, what will make the new ones any different? They’ll keep me away from Zack. Or just want to adopt me for my connection to the royal prince. I don’t want new parents.”

-Regis reaches out a hand and starts to gently explain that Prompto HAS to have parents, that this time will be better, Prompto just hunches his shoulders and glares harder at the floor. There is something cold and broken in those blue eyes, something Cor KNOWS down to the fibers of his soul.

-Why do I bother saying anything when I know no one will listen to what I want anyway? My opinion doesn’t matter.

-I don’t matter.

-He’d seen those eyes in the mirror for a very, very long time until he ran away and joined the Crownsguard at thirteen, desperate enough to MAKE something of himself, to BE someone, that he was willing to risk death in the military. If only because joining was HIS choice, not someone else’s.

-Cor is speaking before he can think better of it, “What do you want then?”

-Every stops and stares at him. Noctis is already beaming hopefully at Cor, and Prompto looks ... surprised, wary. Cor kneels down in front of the seven year old, equalizing their heights as much as he can, and murmurs seriously, “You need a guardian of some kind, it’s the law. But if you don’t want new parents, what DO you want? Is there anyone- is there anyone you would prefer as a caretaker? One of your teachers, or ... even one of the servants here in the Citadel? We could ask if they would be willing to adopt you. At least until your age of majority.”

-Prompto stares at him, the looks down at the floor. He blinks rapidly as tears start to form and mutters something Cor could have sworn was “stupid child hormones” under his breath before sniffling loudly and ....

-Reaching out to tentatively hook his fingers around Cor’s sleeve.

-“Can I ... pick you?” Blue eyes peer at him shyly, cautiously, “Can I pick you as my guardian?” And Cor feels like his chest is going to burst.

-He wants to say yes instantly, but instead he asks, “Are you sure? You don’t know me. I am the Marshal of the Crownsguard, my duties will keep me very busy. I WILL make time for you whenever you need, but I won’t be able to spend as much ... as much time with you as you deserve.”

-Prompto’s lips twitch into something like a smile, “You’re safe,” he whispers and then looks away like he’s embarrassed. Then he opens his mouth and shatters Cor’s world, “You took me away from the- the men in white coats, and the cold, and the green.” The boy shudders with MEMORY that he should have and glances at Cor again, “I trust you.”

-And Cor can’t breathe.

-Regis and Clarus both look like a stiff wind could knock them over (just like how Cor feels) and Regis manages a strangled, “You were just a baby...”

-And Prompto shrugs, lets go of Cor’s jacket to fidget with the band around his wrist (that covers his barcode, covers the one visible remaining sign of the trauma and experiments they had done to him and oh ASTRALS how much does the boy remember), “It hurt a lot. People remember things that hurt better than they remember nice things. It was cold, and ... scary. They kept making me sick. Then Cor came. He picked me up and took me away. He brought me here and ... I know the Argentums weren’t very good parents. But they never hurt me. They never-” Prompto’s eyes blow wide and his breath stutters like he’s remembering something truly terrible and he shrinks mindlessly into Noctis’s tight hug, shaking like a leaf in genuine terror before he shakes his head and looks pleadingly at Cor, “I trust you,” he whispers again and its a knife to Cor’s heart, “please. Don’t send me away this time.”

-Noctis is still clinging to Prompto like a protective limpet, so when Cor reaches out and snatches Prompto against his chest, he’s clutching Noctis as well, but he doesn’t CARE. Because Prompto REMEMBERS the lab and the flight, somehow he remembers (has to remember, because the Argentums were never told any of that, there was no one but Cor to tell Prompto about those things and Cor hadn’t spoken to Prompto in all those seven years) all the trauma and fear and that Cor had LEFT him and Cor knows he will never forgive himself for this.

-But he will make it right.

-“Okay,” he breathes into Prompto’s hair, “You can stay. You can stay with me.” He inhales shakily, raises his head and GLARES at Regis and Clarus, daring them to disagree this time. Oath or no oath, king or no king, Cor will fight them this time if they try to take Prompto away.

-Regis dips his head in a shaky acknowledgement, still off-balance from the revelation that Prompto remembered “I’ll have the paperwork brought up.”

-Cor buries his face in Prompto’s hair again with a shaky sigh and a tight squeeze. Prompto is his.

-He’s never, ever letting go again.

[isa-ghost]

A Formal Report To Staff

I’ve emailed the support team three times, each with strong feedback. Each containing MORE PROBLEMS than the last email. I begged them to take me off the beta. In fits of frustration, I’ve demanded to be taken off it too. I was told I’d have to deal with it. I was given responses that were little or no help at all. And I’m not the only one having these issues. These issues have been so severe and frustrating, I have been the least active on the site I have ever been. I have heavily contemplated leaving Tumblr altogether, and have been extremely displeased (to say the least) that these issues have prevented me from enjoying my blog, interacting with my friends/mutuals, and more. 

This beta was forced onto users without warning, without user’s consent, with no insight as to what would change, how it would change, why it would change, what was new, or any other changes/additions the beta would give. This lack of communication is unprofessional, inexcusable, and irresponsible. And the fact that they don’t give you an option to turn it off or opt out is, quite frankly, bullshit. Implementing a "beta” that feels half-assed and has this many issues in the first place without any kind of communication is irresponsible.

Their only semi-decent answer to this problem has been XKit. Which is not compatible/available with all browsers!! And really, it should be a big sign they SHOULDN’T CHANGE/ADD SOMETHING if their answer to it is “oh, just use XKit to undo it/turn it off.” JUST DON’T DO IT! You shouldn’t be relying on an extension/add-on to make your users happy! And if the users who don’t want these changes/additions are somehow the minority in all this, I certainly don’t see a single peep of any kind anywhere from the users that want/are supportive of these things! I’ve seen nothing but problems with this beta being reported, and frustration/hatred of it being expressed. And 0 action taken by the staff to fix any of it. If it’s still being worked on, it never should have been released to users in the first place. They should not be forced to put up with the bugs that this beta still has. The staff should not be randomly selecting users (not every user has had the beta forced upon them) to be beta testers. This is also irresponsible of them.

The staff’s communication to users about updates is AWFUL. The way they implement new things or change existing things without any mention of it or warning of when these things officially implement is AWFUL. 99% of the time they add or change something, nobody wants it or asked for it, and/or it’s a tiny change that didn’t need any attention whatsoever to begin with! They seriously need to start remembering the saying, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it!“ The staff should be holding polls or ASKING users their opinions on something before they do it, not just throwing it in and forcing them to deal with it! And if they don’t want to wait for feedback on an idea before they do it, then they should ALWAYS make an option to turn off/opt out of whatever it is!

Tumblr’s most BASIC FUNCTIONS: posting, reblogging, editing posts, a user’s personal settings, HAVE BROKEN. They will not open or load, and if they do, the user has to wait several seconds before it FINALLY opens. When it doesn’t open, this happens:

This can/will appear 2-5+ TIMES (aka, the user will have to try and click “Aa Text/etc,” the reblog button, or the edit button 2-5+ TIMES, and on top of that, the window takes several seconds to load each time before you even know if it’s going to actually open or not!!) before Tumblr lets you open the posting window, the reblog window, or the editing window. It might even be happening with other functions on Tumblr that I just haven’t personally experienced yet.

Tumblr’s most BASIC FUNCTIONS should NEVER be malfunctioning, no matter what. A half-implemented beta/update, some random issue, NOTHING. NOTHING should make these functions unable to be used or any sort of hassle to use! This shouldn’t be happening, and shouldn’t be allowed to happen! It honestly makes the staff look incompetent when these simple things aren’t developed to a point where they don’t break. At the very least, they should not break as often as they do. And speaking of basic functions breaking, don’t even get me started on how often tags break and malfunction. That’s been an issue forever, and a highly reported and complained about one at that. And yet here the staff are, once again changing the whole appearance of Tumblr instead of working on more pressing issues; thus once again making its userbase feel unheard or ignored.

And as if those basic functions breaking aren’t enough, there’s YET ANOTHER ONE that (at least for me) keeps breaking! THE DASHBOARD ITSELF.

Anywhere between 2 seconds and a few minutes, if I scroll any longer than that, this happens to my dash, and nothing will load. And if I try to scroll back up for it to load, the things that HAD loaded are no longer loaded OR the dash just straight up disappears and all I see is the dash’s blue background. At that point I can’t even refresh my dashboard to fix it or click anything whatsoever. I have to close Tumblr and reopen it in a new tab. And most of the time, I can’t even do that, because this BREAKS MY ENTIRE BROWSER. 

MY ENTIRE BROWSER WILL STOP RESPONDING 1-3+ TIMES BEFORE I CAN DO ANYTHING AT ALL. Sometimes it will crash COMPLETELY. Not only that, but when Tumblr lags my entire browser and makes it stop responding, then EVERY OTHER APPLICATION ON MY LAPTOP will lag out or stop responding as well! My laptop is admittedly old, but even in its old age, it DIDN’T DO THIS BEFORE THE BETA WAS FORCED UPON ME. The beta is literally screwing with my WHOLE laptop because its issues start with the site, extend to my browser, then spread to anything else I have running at the time! While some of that is most likely my laptop’s age showing, again, it never did this before the beta started to mess with everything.

Being on Tumblr just... isn’t worth this much frustration. This needs to change. It needs to be taken off user’s accounts until it’s completed or (preferably to me) not implemented at all.

On top of all of these issues, I personally have been suffering another huge problem with this beta. My add-on Tumblr Savior will not work. I use Tumblr Savior to blacklist URLs of blogs I don’t want to interact with (and have blocked, but Tumblr’s blocking system is awful and doesn’t keep blocked blog’s posts off your dash or anything. Blocking a blog should COMPLETELY wipe the existence of a blog you block out of your sight EVERYWHERE. But that’s a whole other issue I won’t even get into... Again, a highly reported and complained about issue that the staff haven’t done anything about). I also use it to blacklist tags I don’t want to see, or a tag that people I follow use for their followers to blacklist a specific type of content. I use it to blacklist words and phrases so posts containing them don’t appear. I use them to blacklist triggers and things that make me uncomfortable. I know many users who also use this add-on to properly blacklist URLs, tags, words, phrases, and more to keep it off their dashboards. Many use this to blacklist triggers and sensitive material that Tumblr’s filtering systems do not properly take care of. This add-on not functioning with this beta could be harmfully affecting users. I personally cannot enjoy being on Tumblr without Tumblr Savior functioning to properly filter all that I need filtered.

This is every URL, tag, word, phrase, or otherwise that I have to blacklist to comfortably be active on Tumblr. NONE of those things are being properly blacklisted by Tumblr’s filtering system (especially blacklisting URLs to properly block a blog since Tumblr doesn’t) and are appearing on my dash and bothering me. Not only that, but Tumblr Savior ALSO does the following for me:

Since Tumblr Savior isn’t functioning, my radar, sponsored, suggested blogs, etc are all crowding my dash and also bothering me. Those checks mean they should be hidden. They are not hidden. I’ve had to unfollow some tags that I was following because they’d keep suggesting random annoying posts to me. 

I even restored defaults and reloaded all of my saved blacklists and settings. It didn’t work. I’m assuming its obviously not up to the staff to make Tumblr Savior work because it’s not theirs. But on the other hand, it was working fine until they forced the beta on me. The beta is what’s making it not work. The beta, between all the issues I’ve mentioned before, and making me unable to use Tumblr Savior to enjoy being on the site comfortably, is making it basically impossible for me to be on the site at all. I’ve mentioned all of this information in the three emails I sent and none of it was effectively acknowledged, let alone fixed.

And lastly:

I just... I really REALLY hate this. I hate it on mobile (but I tolerate it), and I REEEALLY hate it on desktop (I REALLY want it gone!!). Desktop and mobile don’t need to be similar!! Desktop is desktop and mobile is mobile, stop changing them to be the same constantly!! AT LEAST give users an option to turn this stupid number’s visibility off! I get tons of notifications from all my blogs, I get a TON (99+) on my main blog alone! I don’t want this here!! I don’t need to be notified I have notifications, I know! I don’t need to be pressured and pestered to look at them every frickin time I get one!! This is one of those changes that didn’t need to be added!

Instead of breaking everything on the site, and focusing on the appearance of Tumblr, here are just SOME of the suggestions/requests that TONS of users have mentioned in the past, all of which (to my knowledge) have been ignored or unseen by staff:

The ability to change what blog is your main blog.

FIXING THE TAGS, so posts ACTUALLY appear in them and none of the other issues happen.

When all posts containing a certain tag are deleted, the tag stops appearing in your tag history.

Fix the problem where posts with links in them don't show up in tags.

PROPER BLOCKING. If I block a blog, I don’t want to see it ANYWHERE. I don’t want to see it in tags I look at, I don’t want to see it reblogged onto my dash by people I follow. I want it completely GONE so I don’t have to blacklist URLs.

Sending asks from a side blog

THE F*CKING BOT PROBLEMS!!!

Add the different text fonts and colors available on mobile also available on desktop

When a blog is reported, DONT JUST GIVE THE OPTION TO BLOCK. They're being reported FOR A REASON.

When a blog is hidden from Google search results, you can no longer search for tags/posts on that blog's search bar. FIX THAT.

There's been a glitch lately where if you click a notification about a post to see said post, it says the post no longer exists/has been deleted when it hasn't.

Make it so when you block a blog on your main blog, it blocks that blog on all your sideblogs too.

When the OP is deleted, delete all reblogs of the post.

After I finished this post, TAG CRAWLER STOPPED WORKING. FIX THAT! Unbelievable.

There's plenty more ACTUALLY helpful things that could be changed or added, but these are the ones I see talked about the most. Anyone who reblogs this, please don't add more because it's not the point of this post, thanks.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I’m emailing it to the support and hoping the staff actually read and do something about it. To any users reading this, reblogging to signal boost is much appreciated. Any additions backing up what I’ve said here are appreciated as well; especially if the staff take the time to look through the notes to see I really am not the only one who strongly dislikes this beta and is having far more issues with it than it’s worth.

[stuffuchiha]

宇智波;

eu decidi fazer uma faq para esclarecer algumas informações daqui e evitar perguntas frequentes 💌

I decide to do a faq to clarify some information here and avoid frequently asked questions 💌

pt-br:

✵写輪眼; informações pessoais

天照; qual é o seu nome?: pode me chamar de gabi

天照; qual é o seu tt?: @bitchxlar, porém eu quase não o uso.

天照; tem outro tumblr?: sim, o @unitedxedits e eu também modero o @calledits

✵写輪眼; informações sobre o tumblr

天照; aceita ask/sugestão: sim, pode mandar a sua.

天照; qual app/site usa?: photopea (tanto pelo pc quanto pelo celular), ibis paint, snow, picsart, phonto, easy animes, super animes.

天照; quais psd's você usa?: como eu já expliquei, varia muito de acordo com luz e sombra e paleta de cores, mas eu já citei alguns aqui.

天照; sabe fazer psd?: já fiz alguns psd's, mas ainda não tenho tanta habilidade.

天照; pode me ensinar a fazer um psd?: posso sim, é só mandar perguntas na ask ou no pv. lembrando que eu uso o photopea para fazer eles, então se você usa o ps talvez eu não possa ajudar.

天照; como posso me comunicar com você?: pela ask, submit ou pelo pv.

天照; aceita que tipo de edits?: aceito icons, headers, packs e lockscreens.

天照; como funciona seu sistema de ask?: você envia o seu pedido e aguarda eu responde-lo. por favor, não mande o mesmo pedido várias vezes. eu vou responder ele. eu irei responder de acordo com a ordem dos pedidos. ou seja, eu irei postar os que chegarem primeiro do que os que chegarem depois. a única exceção é se um pedido que chegara depois seja um que eu já tenha material para fazê-lo. exemplo: pedido de icons do naruto. se eu tiver screencaps na minha galeria ou se eu encontrar em galleries, eu o responderei primeiro.

天照; eu mandei meu pedido pela ask, oque faço agora?: se você já mandou seu pedido, não se preocupe! eu postarei ele o mais rápido que eu puder.

天照; aceita pedidos de TODOS OS ANIMES?: sim, eu aceito. como eu disse, se for um anime que eu não conheça ou que nunca assisti, pode demorar mais para eu postá-lo. mas eu aceito de TODOS em geral.

天照; aceita pedidos de MANGÁ?: aceito, é só me mandar o nome dele e a cena/capítulo específico, se tiver.

✵写輪眼; informações extras:

天照; asks: quando for fazer um pedido, seja o mais educado possível. nunca se esqueça do "por favor" e "obrigado". não seja grosseiro comigo, por favor. asks grosseiras serão ignoradas, exceto asks que difamem/insultem outras pessoas por preconceito ou outros assuntos. nesse caso, a pessoa levará palavras duras da minha parte. se você quiser saber de algo que não está na faq, pode falar comigo.

天照; plágio: EU IMPLORO PARA QUE NÃO ME PLAGIEM. caso queira repostar um edit meu, POR FAVOR DÊ OS CREDITOS OU ME CONTATE. se você ver alguém me plagiando ou repostando sem a minha autorização/dizendo que é autoral, fale comigo pelo pv ou ask. sempre deixarei meu chat aberto, em todos os tumblrs que vocês podem me contatar. PLÁGIO É CRIME! não copie ninguém, pois isso é falta de empatia e te torna uma pessoa totalmente sem caráter.

eng:

✵ 写 輪 眼; personal information

天 照; what's your name?: can you call me gabi

天 照; what is your tt?: @bitchxlar, but I hardly use it.

天 照; do you have another tumblr?: yes, @unitedxedits and I also moderate @calledits

✵ 写 輪 眼; tumblr info

天 照; accept ask / suggestion?: yes, you can send your

天 照; which app / website do you use?: photopea (both on pc and mobile), ibis paint, snow, picsart, phonto, easy animes, super animes.

天 照; which psd's do you use?: as i already explained, it varies a lot according to light and shade and color palette, but i already mentioned some here.

天 照; do you know how to make psd?: I've made some psd's, but I still don't have that much skill.

天 照; can you teach me how to make a psd?: yes, i can, just send questions on ask or pv. remembering that I use photopea to make them, so if you use ps maybe I can't help.

天 照; how can i communicate with you?: via ask, submit or pv.

天 照; do you accept what kind of edits?: I accept icons, headers, packs and lockscreens.

天 照; How does your ask system work?: You send your request and wait for me to answer it. please do not send the same request multiple times. I will answer him. I will respond according to the order of requests. that is, I will answer those who arrive first than those who arrive later. the only exception is if an order that arrived later is one that i already have material to do so. example: request for naruto icons. if i have screencaps in my gallery or if i find them in galleries, i will answer you first.

天 照; I sent my order through ask, what do I do now?: If you already sent your order, don't worry! I will answer him as soon as I can.

天 照; do you accept requests from ALL ANIMES?: yes, I do. as I said, if it’s an anime I don’t know or never watch, it may take longer for me to post it. but I accept it from EVERYONE in general.

天 照; do you accept MANGA requests?: accepted, just send me his name and the specific scene / chapter, if you have one.

✵ 写 輪 眼; extra information:

天 照; asks: when making an order, be as polite as possible. never forget "please" and "thank you". don't be rude to me, please. gross asks will be ignored, except asks who defame / insult other people for prejudice or other matters. in that case, the person will take harsh words from me. if you want to know something that is not on the faq, you can talk to me.

天 照; plagiarism: I beg you not to plagiarize me. if you want to repost an edit of mine, PLEASE GIVE CREDITS OR CONTACT ME. if you see someone plagiarizing me or reporting without my permission / saying they are authoritative, talk to me via pv or ask. I will always leave my chat open, in all the tumblrs you can contact me. PLAGIAR IS A CRIME! do not copy anyone, as this is a lack of empathy and makes you a person totally without character.

[banishedfromirk]

I really feel like my interest/passion for Zim has just died lately. This wasn’t something that built up or anything like that - it just happened, and I was actually afraid this might happen. Part of me was always 50% about returning to the fandom, while the other was 50% was against it. I was worried about going back to the fandom because it was quite toxic back in the day. I dealt with some nasty people and I was driven away from the fandom due to them. While my experience has been much more positive, it’s mostly the antis this time around that have prevented me from wanting to indulge into this fandom as much as I originally wanted to. Not that I give a shit about them - I just don’t have time for internet drama anymore. I’ve basically ‘been there, done that’. I just wanted to go back to the Zim fandom to enjoy it, instead it’s just the same garbage over and over. I’ve even feared posting for a while due to accounts being mass reported. Antis suck the life and joy out of everybody.  I don’t feel comfortable as I did when I originally returned and bad memories constantly resurface. There’s people I just don’t want anything to do with on here, especially ones with venomous attitudes (the whole ‘ZADRs DNI or I’ll break your kneecaps’ type of shit). Tumblr’s blocking system is such a joke. Even third party apps are not enough to hide some people's posts I really don’t want to see. I just want to enjoy what I love and be happy doing so for once, not have to face the drama and negativity on a daily basis. It’s got to a point even ZADR doesn’t make me feel happy anymore. Anything Zim related even. I cannot handle constant strings of non-stop negativity from some people in the fandom as well and it’s draining me mentally to the point I’ve started avoiding the fandom and anything Zim related in general now. I live with severe anxiety disorder and have been seeing a psychologist because my anxiety gets to a point I can’t even walk outside to get my own dog sometimes. Seeing the drama and negativity of the fandom is not what I need or want to associate with. I started the year of positive and returning here makes negative feelings/vibes return, hence long periods of breaks/silence. While I’ve made a wonderful friend in the fandom since returning that I hope to speak more to this year, I just am not prepared to deal with only being liked for ‘Zim art’. I have other fandoms I enjoy. I feel like I’m just wasting my time trying to interact sometimes because nobody answers and I get scared to even post other art I want to share because I just think it won’t matter. If it’s not Zim related, people won’t even bat an eye. I don’t want to only be cared about for the sake of Zim artwork and I feel that way when I’m on here sometimes. I’m not trying to be petty or anything - it’s just obvious to me as a long time artist. I’ve been in the field long enough to know that if you want something to work out, you have to please the audience above yourself and well... sometimes I just want to please myself I guess. I put out a lot and rarely get back. That includes supporting people. I think if I were to remain in the fandom, it would be for my own sake and happiness. I don’t have it in me to want to make friends anymore because I’m sick to death of trying to be supportive only to be ignored or used in return. Last summer I spent a night trying to help somebody that had major depressive issues, I stayed up crying and making sure they didn’t harm themselves because they kept hinting at it and worried the hell out of me, and instead I was thanked by being flat out ignored straight afterwards despite them begging for my friendship and to join their discord server. I’ve not spoken to them since because I don’t take too kindly to those sorts of attitudes and eventually I did call them out on it. There’s people I want to be friends with but I just don’t have it in me anymore, to either be supportive or to want to make friends. People leave me on read so much that I just gave up. I’m guess I’m just happier keeping to myself and sharing my artwork. My trust has been damaged over the years by being lied to repeatedly, so I’m selective about even wanting to talk to people in general. Hell somebody crossed a line with me recently by telling me something extremely inappropriate then started saying they would prove I could trust them. Just... no. I guess what I’m saying is please don’t take it the wrong way if I don’t respond or don’t talk much - I just don’t have it in me to and if I see constant strings of negativity it just drives me away. I’ve had too much negativity in my own life to deal with. By that I don’t mean I don’t care to answer messages - I just mean that I can’t hold long conversations like I used to be able to. I have little energy. As for my Zim fic, I don’t know if I have it in me to continue with how I feel now. I see how many people have read it but little feedback makes it hard for me to gauge how people perceive it and if I should continue. Maybe this will pass but right now I’m sure not feeling any reason to want to continue. I’ve felt happier/better focusing on my other stories, honestly.  I really do hope this passes. My spark for this fandom has dimmed quite a bit. If it comes back around I’ll delete this eventually. Sorry to sound negative but I feel apprehensive about remaining in the fandom and I can’t shake it. :(  If you have any positive vibes to send my way, please do so. Maybe Zim will grow on me again. :(

[daebakinc]

Hero Among Thorns - Pt.3

Pairing: Hyunwoo x Reader Genre: Undercover Detective AU, Action, Romance Word Count: 2.5K Summary: When a mistaken connection results in your kidnapping by one of the city’s most notorious gangs, the undercover detective Hyunwoo has no choice but to rescue and protect you, and, most dangerously of all, fall in love with you. Warning: Mentions of violence and blood. Parts: See Masterlist for previous parts. (Sorry, but Tumblr won’t show posts with links in tag searches. 

Under Jooheon’s watchful gaze, you shuffle out of the room after you eat and take a nap. The sun’s light is weak with dusk, the electrical lights humming above your head to brighten the hallway. A television’s indecipherable buzz gets louder as you walk down the short hall, passing two closed doors. When you step into the doorway leading to the living area, the first thing you notice is how cramped it is.

 The kitchen area is small but neat and modern with slate gray walls and tiles. A short half-counter separates it from the living room. Two large couches and an armchair in a darker shade of gray than the walls and overstuffed for perfect naps encircle a widescreen television. A weights bench and stand with free range weights is tucked into the corner by the small balcony. But maybe it isn’t the furniture that makes the room seem too small. It very well could be the six men ranged about the space.

Kihyun washes dishes with his back to a dark-haired man in an oversized hoodie hunched over a bulky laptop on the counter. Lines of green numbers and letters flash across the screen in meaningless sequences. Two men sit side by side on one of the couches in jeans and old graphic T’s, both animatedly discussing the soccer match on the television. One is blond, lanky, and practically vibrating with energy from his gesticulating hands to his bouncing knee. His companion is slightly calmer but just as intent and looks like he could be gym buddies with Dwayne Johnson. Yet another man with an angelic face dominates the other couch, his legs for miles dangling off the edge of an arm as he sleeps.

Shownu, or rather Hyunwoo, you remind yourself, sits in the armchair, his eyes following the ball on the screen. He’s changed from the jeans to more comfortable sweatpants a shade lighter than his shirt. Although you don’t make a sound or move, Hyunwoo’s gaze flicks to yours.

All the air rushes from your lungs. The medication Jooheon gave you must be stronger than you thought. No way Hyunwoo’s soft smile and the way it so genuinely shines in his eyes can have that effect on you already.

Must be a side effect of the medication. Has to be.

“Guys,” Hyunwoo rises from his chair, “our guest is up.”

Mr. Muscles shoots to his feet with a disconcerting speed, his neighbor rising from his seat as well. When his sleeping friend fails to follow, Muscles nudges the sleeping one’s feet off the couch. “Come on, where’re your manners? Stand when a lady comes into the room.”

“Getting there,” the friend mumbles as he sits up. He opens one eye to glare at the offender. “You didn’t draw the short straw for dawn surveillance.”

“I’m assuming you want us to introduce ourselves?” the blond asks Hyunwoo even as he moves around the couch. With a winning smile and waving hand, he comments, “Looks like I was pretty spot on. Everything fit okay?”

You pause mid-smile. “Excuse me?”

He gives you a boyish smile of apology. “Ah, sorry, that came out weird. I’m Minhyuk. Resident mechanic and artist. I’m really good with estimating measurements so I picked up your new clothes since we hadn’t gone to your place yet. I wasn’t sure on some but-”

“Shut up before you sound like a creep,” says Mr. Muscles, laughing. He inclines his head to you in a princely nod. “Hoseok, ma’am, second-in-command of the unit. I promise we’ll do our best to make this experience as safe and painless as possible.”

The third couch resident yawns and starts to stretch. “Ditto what he said except Hyungwon, sharpshooter slash whatever the boss needs.”

“Please, don’t get up on my account,” you say, throwing out your free hand when he begins to rise. “If you had a late night, you need rest.”

Hyungwon gives you an unreadable look before turning his head towards Hyunwoo. “I like her.” He settles back into the couch, body slack but eyes alert.

Kihyun finishes drying off a hand to flick the last remaining team member lightly on the forehead. “This one’s Changkyun. Kid hacker turned good guy by our captain over there.”

Changkyun taps one more key, then turns around to give you a brief, assessing look-over. “Yo.”

“Hi,” you reply.

“By the way,” Changkyun’s eyes go to Hyunwoo. “Turns out your gym is the gym she works at.”

Something clicks in your mind as you look at Hyunwoo, mouth dropping open. “That was you!” you squeak.

Hyunwoo’s mouth pouts in confusion. “Me? I’m sure we haven’t run into each other there before-”

“No, no.” You try to wave your hand, but the sling hinders your movement. “My friend, Amy, she took a picture of you like last week or something when she saw you there. She sent me the pic because –… well, you’re hot.”

More than one of the men snickers. Hyunwoo just looks amused and shakes his head.

“Well, one more piece of the puzzle falls into place,” Hyungwon says. “Still begs the question as to why Yew made such a dramatic a move now.”

“I’d really like to know a lot of things,” you add, trying to cross your arms only to remember you can’t. “I don’t take kindly to being shot, kidnapped, and drugged.”

“None of us enjoy it either,” Kihyun says matter-of-factly. He takes your uninjured arm and steers you towards the couch. Maneuvering Minhyuk aside with a bump of his elbow, he settles you in the space previously occupied by Hoseok and sits beside you. “But we do need to debrief you about what you remember. If you don’t mind doing that now.”

Jooheon answers the question in Kihyun’s glance over your head. “Without the lab, I can’t tell if any of the drugs used on her affect memory. That is if they haven’t already disappeared from her system.”

“You mean from when I was kidnapped?” you ask.

Kihyun nods and Minhyuk adds, “Don’t leave anything out. A detail may seem insignificant, but it could be useful to us.”

Hoseok picks up the remote to turn off the television. In the sudden quiet, you feel an intensity descend over the room. You look around to find each of the occupants intent on your face, your body language. Even Changkyun closes his laptop and watches from the stool. Jooheon and Minhyuk perch on the arms of Hyungwon’s couch while Hoseok stands beside Hyunwoo’s chair. The smiles are gone, replaced with the focus of hunters.

You are very, very glad these men are on your side and not after you. With their concentrated gazes and bodies leaning towards yours, they look like bloodhounds straining on leash, ready to track their prey to the ends of the earth. And you have no doubt once they do, it’s going to be dangerous for whoever it is.

“Um,…” Your voice falters and fails. Hyunwoo gives you a small smile. The tiny encouragement helps you find your words again. “I left work by myself at one that morning—”

“You work at a medical office, not a hospital. What were you doing there so late?” Changkyun interrupts.

“Our biller’s been out helping her daughter with a new grandbaby, so we were behind with insurance claims. Yester- that day was the last day to file them. I’m the only one who knows how to do it. I had to catch up on my own work, too: ordering vaccines and supplies, filing specialist reports, etcetera. The office is a mess if I don’t.”

“Not safe for a woman to be out alone like that,” you hear Hoseok mumble.

Minhyuk attempts to get the conversation back on track. “And after you left?”

You briefly describe your path home, leaving out your pause by the ballet studio. No need to relive that or drag them through your trip down memory lane. You describe the car that almost hit you, but then everything gets hazy. In the pain of being shot, your brain had been otherwise occupied.

Closing your eyes, you try harder. “I didn’t see the faces of whoever pulled me off the ground, but… there was a guy in the car, in the backseat that they showed me to. I couldn’t see his face. He was smoking something really bitter smelling. And his arm… there was a tattoo on his forearm. The outside of it. All black. Something like a tree, maybe?”

“Which arm?” Kihyun presses.

Eyes still shut, you shift your body, placing yourself back on that street. “I was walking down the street, so the right? I guess?”

“If you saw the tattoo again, would you recognize it?”

“Maybe.”

When you open your eyes, you catch the shared look between all the men. Changkyun magically has a tablet in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. The tattoo meant something.

Changkyun turns the screen back to you. “This it?”

The photo is slightly blurry as if the camera had to zoom in from a distance. It only shows an arm, raised in the air in mid-gesture. Although the finer details of the tattoo are smudged at the distance, you recognize the twisted trunk and severe lines.

Ignoring the chill that settles in your chest, you quickly look away. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“We must have really pissed Yew off if he oversaw the job personally,” Hoseok comments, glancing down at Hyunwoo. “This would be the first sighting of him in months.”

Hyunwoo’s gaze stays on the floor. A crease etches deeper between his eyes. His hand comes to his chin, his pointer finger rubbing the skin. “Maybe one of our recent deals hit a nerve.”

You wrap your free arm around yourself. “How… how bad is this guy? You said he was some kind of gangster, right?”

“He deals in drugs, contraband, murders, humans,” Jooheon spits, the hatred in his voice surprising you. “Anything sold on this region’s black-markets, he’s had a hand in it at some point. Arms are just his newest ‘business venture’.”

“So why hasn’t he been taken down before?”

Kihyun laughs humorlessly. “He’s a bastard, but unfortunately, he’s a smart one. Always careful to never have his name on the papers or the money, kept himself small enough to hide behind the bigger fish. That is until he made an example of one of our undercover agents he caught sniffing around. Since that day, he’s been our top priority.”

You don’t dare ask if they knew the murdered officer personally or what kind of example Yew chose. From the grim look on the men’s faces, they took the loss personally.

You look at the photograph on the screen again. Even faceless, or perhaps because he is so, Yew looms more menacingly than before. You draw your legs up to rest your chin on your knees. What kind of horrors did such a monster have planned for you if Hyunwoo had not acted or if he had acted any slower. What would he have done if Hyunwoo hadn’t acted at all. Cold creeps further into your skin as the millions of horrible fates you could have met flash like a demented movie reel through your head.

“I’ll be right back,” Hyunwoo suddenly says. He walks out of the room and out of sight into the hallway. When he returns, he holds a candy pink hoodie in his arms.

Unzipping it, he lays it across your shoulders. It’s ridiculously large and hangs loosely. But it also may be the warmest, softest, most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn. “You looked cold,” he says when you give him a questioning look.

“Ex-girlfriend’s?” you impulsively ask. With an internal sigh, you remind yourself it’s none of your business. And that you shouldn’t care. Not one bit.

Hoseok lets out a bark of laughter. “Nope. His.”

“His?” Incredulous, you pick at the fabric. They really expect you to believe some badass commando secret agent owns something like this?

Then again, this is the twenty-first century. Screw gender conformity. Men look good in pink.

Hyunwoo doesn’t appear embarrassed by your tone, simply smiling. “It’s a graduation gift from my old swim team. One of the coaches use to call me a merman. The girls on the team took it a little farther.”

You stay absolutely still as he reaches out and pinches some of the fabric to show you. There, stitched in bright red thread and loopy cursive, is ‘Merman.’

“Always thought I was more of a turtle, but it’s all in good fun,” Hyunwoo adds.

“It’s cute.” You smile at the thought of little Hyunwoo, if he was ever little, surrounded by a throng of giggling girls as they present the hoodie to him.

“Thanks.”

Pulling the hoodie closer around you, you venture, “So, can I ask my questions now?”

“Sure.”

“Do you have any idea when I can go home? If you’ve investigating Yew for a while, doesn’t that mean you’ll be done soon?” Maybe with the others present, you can get a different answer.

“I already contacted both of your jobs with a story about you being injured while going home to visit your family.” Changkyun says, leaning back on his elbows against the countertop. “The documentation I included was enough to buy three months’ medical leave from your office job. After that, we’ll figure something out. The gym will cover your classes indefinitely until you’re back. Once I’ve made sure your phone and online accounts aren’t being monitored, you can contact your family. I’ll figure out a cover story for you then. Your rent will be taken care of as we go.”

He makes it sound like it was nothing. Has he done this kind of thing that often that it really is nothing for him? Your second thought is where are they getting the money from. Your place isn’t the Ritz, but nothing in this city is cheap.

Scrambling to do calculations in your head, the amount needed to cover your rent for three months at once makes you woozy. You’ll really have to live sparsely, more so than normal, but if there’s one thing you hate, it’s owing people. “Can I pay you back in installments after this is all done?”

Changkyun shakes his head and your heart sinks, only for him to say, “You don’t have to pay us back at all. Our pockets are deep for this op; we’ll add it to our expenses.”

Shit, that’s a lot of money. It makes you uncomfortable taking it. “But-”

Hyunwoo cuts you off. “Consider it compensation for testifying when we close the case.”

“I never said I’d testify,” you blurt out.