#but maybe she needs to stick to writers and editors

[sunshinebingo]

A Gwynriel meet-cute fic inspired by my writer's block and the music video of I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry.

Synopsis: Gwyn tries everything possible to put a stop to her writer's block, unbeknownst that her source of inspiration will appear right at her door.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

She sat, alone and upset.

She sat in her home, as lonely and desperate as she had ever been, and waited for a miracle to happen.

Gwyn crossed yet another sentence, the words becoming less readable with every line she frustratingly drew across them.

“Ugh. I’m a lost cause,” she complained.

What was she doing wrong? She was applying every advice she had received from her fellow authors, some of which had worked for her previous writer’s blocks. She was so desperate that she was even doing everything all at once to increase her chances at finally writing. Her head had been a blank slate for too many months now.

The first step had been to put on her comfiest hoodie and shorts, her hair up in a high ponytail, and to sit on her comfiest chair at her desk with some cool water. She was also using a pen and paper instead of her laptop. Typing everything out later would be an extra step, but one that she was willing to take. If, she hoped hard, she managed to write anything at all. In addition to all that, she was using a different colour than black, and had convinced herself that she was using a different font. If she always used Times New Roman, Arial or Calibri, her own handwriting had to count as a new font, right?

She even had ambient music playing in the background; the sound of a peaceful forest that she imagined her heroine – a nymph – living in. From the different sounds that floated around her, Gwyn imagined the nymph sitting in her little cottage, with a freshly polished dagger on a table next to a steaming cup of hibiscus tea. Magical birds could be heard chirping outside along with her ethereal voice humming. Occasionally, Gwyn could also hear tiny footsteps and giggles that made her think of the little folks that she had introduced earlier in chapter 3.

All the conditions were perfect. Every element was right here in her head; the setting, the mood, the time and weather. Yet it still felt like nothing was happening. As though she couldn’t get her heroine to do anything, no matter how hard Gwyn poked her with her mental stick. Perhaps she was also waiting for something more interesting than everything her creator came up with.

Gwyn sighed and rubbed her eyes. The bright pink was starting to hurt her tired eyes and making her annoyance with herself grow. Maybe she should have picked a different one among her many colourful pens. Could a glittery one work?

She took a few sips of water from her favourite mug, followed by a few slow and deeps breaths during which she wondered how the hell she had managed to publish two books in four years with a brain like hers.

Reading and writing were a passion that she had successfully turned into her job. It meant more to her than just paying her bills and affording everything she owned. It was her source of joy and fulfilment; what had slowly let her out of her safe shell and had given her a reason to live. At least it was all of this when the made-up creatures living in her head actually did things that she could write about. Her team of editors and publishers would never approve of a story where the characters only sat and waited for the unknown for half of the book.

“Someone could die,” Gwyn tapped her pen against her cheek and thought out loud. But for that to happen, she would have to come up with a motive and a plan.

She imagined her protagonist staring blankly at her as if to ask, “Really?”

She scowled at the pink ink on the white paper and asked, “What else do you suggest to spice up the plot?”

She refused to give up on her story midway through. Something would happen. She just needed faith in her creativity and her skills. And a prayer or two to the writers’ gods to send a genius idea her way. With little hope that they would listen, Gwyn plunged back into her story, where the nymph was still doing a whole lot of nothing.

She sat there, as lonely and desperate as she had ever felt, and slowly giving up on the hope that miracles could happen, when a rattling sound disturbed the quiet of her home. It persisted until…

“Wait a second.”

…until the author realised that the sound was coming from outside her own apartment door.

“What the hell?”

Both of Gwyn’s best friends, Emerie and Nesta, the only two who ever showed up at her place unannounced, were currently at work. Even if they had gotten out early, they would have knocked or called after finding her door locked. Which it most often was. The building that Gwyn lived in was quite luxurious with an excellent security system. But judging by the person who had been trying to forcefully open her door for the last minute, Gwyn’s anxiety about her safety began to surface again.

She stood from her desk and made her way towards what could be an intruder. Holding her pink pen up like a serial killer might hold a knife, Gwyn brought her hand to the knob. If she was fast enough, she could press the button on the interphone right next to the door as soon as she opened it and alert the security guard. But what if Frank was already dead and now the killer was coming for her? Gwyn damned herself for having gone with an apartment on the second floor instead of the twenty-second. What was the benefit of having one of the best balconies in the building if she was among the firsts to die?

“Pull yourself together Gwyneth!” she told herself.

Her heroine wouldn’t cower before the one trying to break through her cottage. She would feel the fear but confront it. Gwyn might have no dagger nor claws; she might have no magic to bring down her enemies. But, like her nymph, she refused to die. Not when she had a story to finish. Gwyn summoned as much courage as she had often infused her nymph with and yanked her door open.

What she saw crouching before her with a key in one gloved hand and a black and blue helmet in the other didn’t look like a murderer. Not that she had ever knowingly come face to face with one to know what they looked like.

Gwyn lowered her pen at her side as the man straightened and towered over her with strong arms and broad shoulders that were hugged by a black leather jacket. His brown skin glowed under the dim yellow light of the baroque-style hallway of the building. His hazel eyes were like a blaze that bore into Gwyn, even as the rest of his handsome face showed signs of surprise. There was a hint of confusion apparent in the frown of his obsidian eyebrows that matched the colour of his short, dishevelled hair.

He looked like a male straight out of a romantasy. The type whose looks alone could mark him as someone who is always broody. Until he meets the one who can effortlessly make him smile with an adorable laugh, a teasing remark or an irreverent challenging look; the latter being the kind a writer like herself would describe as a withering stare that would earn the object of the male’s fascination an amused chuckle.

Was he even real? Or had Gwyn dived so deep into her fictional world that she had landed somewhere inside it? If it was the case, then it meant that there was more to her story that she had yet to discover, since she had never met such a stunning man in that world of hers. She didn’t even know that such beauty and magnetism was possible.

He was just standing there in front of her. Yet his eyes seemed to hold a power that made it impossible for her to acknowledge anything else.

“Hello.”

The deep voice she heard didn’t sound like it was coming from her imagination.

“Hi,” she breathlessly greeted back.

“Uh... Hi... I was...”

Gwyn took in every single fumbled words that came out of his plump lips, ready to listen to him say anything. But he stopped and, for a moment, just stared at her with an intensity that she did not realise matched the way she was looking at him.

“Can I help you?” she asked when the silence stretched, hoping that she hadn’t looked at him like she had never seen a man before. Although she was still not entirely convinced that he wasn’t a manifestation of her fantasies.

The man shook his visible stupor away at her question and offered her a small yet very charming smile.

“I think this is my new apartment.”

Gwyn frowned in puzzlement.

“I’m sure it’s not?” she said like she wasn’t sure at all.

He cocked his head to the side in thought before looking around as though he had dropped something. Then, realising he was already holding it, he held his key up for her to see.

“Isn’t this number 9?”

Gwyn’s frown deepened until realisation struck her harder than a lighting bolt.

“Ah. I see.” Gwyn pursed her lips to hold in a laugh. “May I?”

She extended her hand to the mystery man and motioned to his key with a tilt of her head.

He raised a brow at her. A corner of his lips slowly tugged into a smirk that disappeared a few seconds later. Whether he was trying to consciously school his features or not, Gwyn didn’t know. But she enjoyed the mischief that she had glimpsed for a moment there.

“You may,” he said as he dropped the small object in her open palm.

Gwyn held the key chain up and placed it next to the engraving on the wall with her house’s number on it. She showed him how, in this way, the key chain formed a miniature version of the engraving, with the design being the exact same, except for the 6 of her house number which didn’t match the 9 of his key.

His eyes darted between the engraving and the key, and to the redhead who was playfully wiggling her eyebrows at him. Then he laughed, his rich voice so beautiful that Gwyn imagined it would be impossible to ever tire of hearing it. And when she laughed with him, she found that she very much liked the harmony that their two voices created.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “That was very dumb of me.”

“I’ll give you that. It was,” she said with a shrug.

The man eyed Gwyn like he was disappointed that she had so quickly agreed. His expression only pulled another laugh out of Gwyn.

“Yours is the one over there.” She pointed at the hallway behind him. To the second door down to her left. “Next to the wall lamp.”

He look there before turning back to her. Gwyn dangled his key in front of him.

“You won’t get my home just yet but you’ll get to be my neighbour.”

She found herself curious as to what kind of neighbour mister handsome here would be. Would they come across each other at random hours of the day and night as they went about their lives?

The smile that brightened his face was more disarming than any that Gwyn had ever seen.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, neighbour.” He extended a hand to her.

“I’m Gwyneth. Or just Gwyn.”

She shook his offered hand with the same one that she still held his key. He took it with him as he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hand away.

“I’m Azriel. Or just... Azriel.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted the helmet he carried under his left arm. Gwyn smiled.

“Alright. Just Azriel.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Their gazes locked, their hands fidgeting with whatever they carried. Gwyn was here and somewhere else at the same time. His body, his face, his voice, his mere presence stirred something in her. It was thrilling and also...intimidating.

He was like a mystery that was yet to be unfold. A story that needed to be written. Gwyn sensed in her writer’s heart that his could be one with pain and pleasure, ire and love. His eyes were a window through which she wanted to dive into his soul and learn all of his secrets. She also wanted to know what kind of man he could be in his most caring or vulnerable state.

Knowing a person in such a deep, all encompassing way was almost impossible. But perhaps, Gwyn wondered as her eyes widened, her version of him could provide her with the answers she sought.

“I – ”

“I – ”

“I should – ”

“I need to – ”

They both laughed at their synchronicity.

“I should go check my actual apartment.”

“And I should get back to mine. I hope you don’t get lost on your way.”

One of his brows rose. “I will blame your directions if I do.”

Gwyn crossed her arms and scowled at him. But the effect was lost with the smile that threatened to spread on her lips.

She watched him turn around and walk to his apartment. No doubt sensing her eyes still on him after he opened his door, “just Azriel” looked at her again. Gwyn waved at him. He winked, then stepped inside. Without wasting another second, Gwyn closed her own door and rushed to her desk.

Words and images formed in her mind like music flowing out of her imagination; a scene playing out like a musician effortlessly soaring through the notes of their symphony.

Gwyn immersed herself in it and let her hand glide across pages after pages of her notebook. She wrote about the nymph and her intruder, a mysterious male that became more real with every element she discovered about his character.

It might have been luck or sheer coincidence. It might have also been an answer to her hopeless prayers. Gwyn had no time to care. What mattered was that she was now inspired.

[redheadgleek]

Me picking up a book: oooo, the main character is a neurosurgery resident? This will be great!

Me: wait, why are you calling this a "brain surgery" residency?

Me: wait, why isn't she commiserating with her friend about early mornings? She's going to have to be at the hospital by 5!

Me: she's a second year resident. Internship is only one year.

Me: a fifth year is not a chief resident. Not in neurosurgery.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26

[araivallejo]

I’ve only ever “shipped” characters in two programs I’ve watched. The first one was Niles and Daphne from Frasier, when I was a teen/young twenty something, and Ted and Rebecca from Ted Lasso.

These two pairings could not be more different. Niles was smitten from the start with Daphne, despite being married (!) with seemingly everyone clued in except Daphne herself for seven years (!!) until Frasier blurts it out to her. Only then does she start to view Niles as someone she might love. The Frasier writers had all the tropes on display for this one. Ah, the 90s.

Looking back now as a much older adult, I see glaring red flags in the Niles and Daphne pairing. The man was married, not once but twice, while claiming to be in lust/love with Daphne. Young me didn’t care though. I thought – romance! And when they ran off together, I was smitten. My one and only delve into fanfiction I wrote in 2000 when they both took off in the Winnebago. Oh my. With the benefit of hindsight, I wonder just how much I’d ship those two these days. Now if Frasier were to be remade the creators would have made the Niles character what he should have been all along, which is gay. The early 90s you just couldn’t do that, although the Frasier team loved to give a wink to it at times.

For Ted and Rebecca, I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t ship them in season 1 and most of season 2 at all. I thought this was simply a lovely friendship and that’s that. It was only the writers’ little bantr fakeout that clued me in on the possibility. I knew it wasn’t Ted, but it got me thinking when it was revealed to be Sam and I was disappointed it wasn’t Ted. Why was I disappointed? Then looking back at the earlier episodes and seeing all the ways they cared for one another and seemed to be clued in to each other. I thought – aha! This is the way to go about a real relationship. Show the friendship. Show the trust. Show each other at your best and your worst. It’s not a fantasy. I never minded that there were no obvious longing looks between the two because I saw all those signs the writers put into the show that kept pointing back (for me) to only one conclusion: Ted and Rebecca were meant to be together. The two obviously long for a romantic relationship and are deeply loving people. It wouldn’t be lazy writing! It would be brilliant to have it slowly evolve into a beautiful relationship built on friendship.

My only sticking point on the two getting together was the fact that at the end of the day, Rebecca was still Ted’s boss. Having grown up in the same region at the same time as Ted, I figured his midwestern values would deem that as unethical and therefore a deal breaker, no matter how deep the attraction was. I figured Ted would always choose his son and want to go back to Kansas, but I also concluded he would still need someone else in his life and not make Henry his sole reason to live. That’s too much of a burden on Henry. So if there were some way to have Ted be with Henry and Rebecca not be his boss… There have been some wonderful fics written to show how these two could still manage that feat. Both Ted and Rebecca are wealthy – with Rebecca shown to be “filthy” rich. Miss “I’ll just buy the restaurant” could make just about anything happen.

It all seems like a hell of a missed opportunity. I believe Jason was so enamored of the movie “Once” that he wanted to make his own version. That’s fine – it was his show. I just wish maybe they would have thought more about why they needed to do some of these little fakeouts. Having read some of the writers and editors’ responses this past week I have concluded that while some of this was purely accidental, the vast majority was absolutely intentional to keep the incredibly loyal and vocal fanbase (the shippers) coming back for more. They knew exactly what they were doing. I’m not naïve; I get that it is a product, and they need eyes viewing said product. But this show was a huge hit from day one when many of us didn’t give a damn about the pairing. Why go to these lengths?

What is hilarious to me is what we’ve been given instead of the well thought out relationship is the very definition of lazy writing: throwing Rebecca with some random man we’ve seen ONE TIME in the last season. We don’t even know his name. Yes, he is attractive and clearly Rebecca enjoyed being around this man. I even said after the ep aired that I wouldn’t mind it, but I was hoping there would be more buildup between the last time we saw him and now. And unlike above with Ted, boat man has not seen Rebecca at her worst, nor she his. It does not feel earned at all and that just pisses me off.

Don’t even get me started on Beard and Jane. Jesus that’s a topic for another post.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Concept ! Imagine Matty and the reader are fighting and Matty (you know he can get real mean sometimes probably ) gets into that mode but the reader / girlfriend is suddenly meaner in a smart way like he doesn't know what to reply anymore then him hahah how do you think this would end up

Ooohhh… Yeah, I definitely think Matty’s smart mouth gets him in trouble in arguments. My dad’s kinda like that. Like he’s so smart and so blunt but sometimes THATS NOT WHATS NEEDED and he gotta learn when to shut the fuck up a bit, lmao.

I’m gonna just go off of something that Matty himself has admitted to. “I’m better at writing…”

So, like, maybe his gf is also a musician. Or maybe she’s a writer. Maybe she asked him for his feedback on something, but instead of telling her what works and what doesn’t, he starts taking issue with the very premise of the thing that she’s writing. “Well if that’s how your character felt, why didn’t she just- stop going out with this guy. It doesn’t make sense. The reader needs to feel invested. I feel no investment in this plot whatsoever.” He shrugs self-satisfied.

“I didn’t ask you about the plot, Matty. I asked you about the building that this scene takes place in.”

“Never got to that part. Got bored after the second paragraph cuz I wasn’t buying into it.”

She gets frustrated “thanks. That’s unhelpful.”

“I would say that’s extremely helpful! Saved you a conversation with your editors.”

“You did no such thing, Matty. Instead of meeting the story on its own terms, you completely re-wrote it. It’s not about why they continue to stay together! Sometimes things aren’t that simple you know.”

He’s staying cool in the face of her frustration which is her least favorite thing ever. It makes he feel like she’s overreacting even when she’s not.

“It’s okay to suck sometimes. I do it too on occasion. But you don’t have to act like that cuz you know my way is better than yours. Just cuz you’re a writer, doesn’t mean you shit gold. Not everything that you come up with is gonna work.”

He thinks he’s won the argument. He sits back in his chair, legs open wide, taking up the space proudly.

“Oh, I know. Sometimes I make mistakes. We all do! It’s part of the writing process. I just feel sorry for you cuz you live in such a narrow reality that you can’t stand the idea of someone doing things differently that you. Just because YOU would quit on a situation like that, doesn’t mean my character should. I’m writing her story, not yours. Art doesn’t always have to be slavishly adhering to your specific perception.”

He opens his mouth to reply, “oh yeah? If I’m so narrow minded, then-“ nothing comes to mind.

“I’m just gonna go work on this on my own. Thanks for nothing, my love.” She walks away and goes back to her desk. He’s just sitting there. His mouth STILL open. He blinks and tries to take in what she said.

Ends up pouting for hours. Stewing in his is. Rage. He can’t BELIEVE she called him narrow-minded. That’s the last thing that he wants to be. That’s why he works so hard at trying not to be judgmental and make sure he’s open to arguments. Then he realizes that he behaved in the exact opposite way towards her. He wasn’t open to ideas. He just pushed his reading on her from the get go, and when she got frustrated with him, he told her it was her fault for not being able to see things her way.

So he starts jotting down thoughts on paper. Goes over to her office, and is like “okay, I’m gonna read out loud from this thing so I don’t put my foot in my mouth again. I’ll stick to the script…” he apologizes, then he makes a calm case for what he thought needed fixing, why he thought that (respectfully), and what he liked. He’d begggg her to let him see her draft again and he’d be on his best behavior.

[alita-blue]

And that's a wrap.

Assorted thoughts:

The Kishin was a massive disappointment, we're told that he's a paranoid coward but we don't see any of that. He says a few lines about being afraid but they come across as mocking Maka & Co. As the final fight he's spectacle without substance.

Crona also got the short end of the stick. Sure only by the very end they acknowledge they're actions where bad, but having them exiled on the moon kinda undermines the theme of overcoming difficulties and fears with the strength of companions. Its just a shit end for someone that was horribly abused, I think.

I never vibed with Black Star. He does say this:

and unless I missed something everything else about him is to pursue power just for its own sake?

The treaty with the witches needed more development. The final chapter should have not been jokes and jokes about boobs gahhhh. Maka running for Marie instead of her father after fighting together on the moon also feels dumb and frustrating.

Now Maka & Soul were pretty good throughout the run of the story, no complaints there. I would have liked a little more Marie & Stein, but they also work fine. AO3 will supply me with Stein/Spirit and that one cigarette gif. We all know which one.

Overall I liked it but Ohkubo needs better editors and maybe partner up with a writer if he ever makes another manga.

One more thing: Whats up with Maka's mom? She doesn't have a canon name, we know what she looks like because of a cameo in Fire Force WTF. Ohkubo did your mom not hug you?

[somerandommess]

Maxiel Au, writer Max;editor Dan. On Ao3 :) here. It’s like 3000 words so below is just a snippet. Enjoy? :)

Jimmy and Sassy

The tail of how two cats explore the world

Book 3: Jimmy & Sassy become pawtectives

Written by Max Verstappen

Illustrated by Charles Leclerc

Draft

“You cant possibly think editing this book yourself is a good idea”

“I do think it’s a good idea. I’m not going to send off my book to some random editor. I know what I wrote, I can edit it!”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can edit it, it’s just that you already have so much work doing.”

This is a conversation that Max and Charles have had several times since Max finished writing his latest book.

Ever since he published the first Jimmy&Sassy book, his agent Christian had been on his back about the next books in the series. Max never expected the books to gain such popularity, but apparently cats getting into trouble was what 7-9 year olds around the world demanded.

Max got up from his place at the breakfast bar and made his way to the fridge, stealing a piece of toast from Charles as he went. He frowned and shoved a bit of omelette in his mouth , watching as Max took his last yogurt.

He didn’t really want the yogurt, but since Charles brought up this topic for the third time this week he figured why not. Out of spite.

He walked to the couch, yogurt in hand, sat down and picked up his laptop. He placed the yogurt down in favor of his mouse and opened the draft of Jimmy&Sassy. Highlighted words and comments greeted him as he scrolled down to where he stopped late last night.

Jimmy gave Sassy a remorseful look. Perhaps the dog from across the street hadn’t stolen the catnip from Mrs.Hoffer, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t commit a crime. Sassy blinks at him but says nothing. Jimmy knows she’s discontent-

“You see! Discontent, remorseful! What seven year old is going to know what discontent is?” Charles exclaimed from behind him.

Max jumps. He didn’t hear Charles sneaking up behind him. He blames it on the lack of sleep.

“They can get a dictionary,” Max responds. It’s what I did he leaves out. He knows Charles gets uncomfortable when he talks about his childhood. About Jos. He doesn’t say it out loud but he sees it in his eyes when Max says certain things.

His father always hated his decision to become an author. He told him he’d never make it big, and that he should stick to children books since he can’t write anything above a fourth grade reading level.

Despite the success of Jimmy&Sassy, he still feels that his father was right when he ignores his other projects to write about two cats stopping a parrot crime lord from taking over the world.

“Get a dictionary? Do you hear yourself?” Charles crouches next to him,

“It’s not just this, you have so many sentences that are out of place. Most of it feels like it should be in another book-“

Max rolls his eyes, “Charles-“

“I know you’ve been working on a side project,” Charles presses on.

“Charles I’m not-“

“Don’t even lie, I see you writing sometimes.” He smiles cheekily at him.

Max frowns. It’s true.

Charles looks at him still and Max chooses to ignore him, highlighting discontent and remorseful instead.

Charles stands and cracks his back. Max watches out of the corner of his eye as he takes his seat next to the window infront of his tablet. He picks up his pen and goes through the motion of sketching potential covers for the new book.

Max shakes his head and stares at the screen.

He highlights some more,

Deluded, rampant, languid.

Charles hums some stupid song, smile on his face. Max groans.

“Fine!”

“What’s that Max?” Charles looks at him, batting his eyes.

“Maybe I need an editor,” he mumbles.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you?” Charles responds. A big smile on his face.

Max angrily clicks save, “You heard me!”

Charles giggles, actually giggles, and grabs his phone.

“I’ll send you his info.”

“You already have someone? Is he even credible? Has he done editing before?”

Charles doesn’t bother looking at him and just continues typing, “He’s a friend of Jules”

Max blinks. Jules Bianchi, famous romance author, and Charles’ godfather. Max assumes that the guy edits stuff for Jules, so he must be good.

He closes his laptop and sets it down. His phones pings and he sees it’s the contact information for a Danny Ric .

He would email him later.

….

On Ao3 here

[willinglyghoulified]

I'm not dead.

I've been trying to get back into the swing of things. To my new followers, hello! I'm a fallout fanfic writer by day, overnight warehouse worker by night, and I'm studying to be an editor.

General life updates below the cut, but long story short, life's a little difficult at the moment and I'm thinking of writing something fun for you guys to read.

For those of you that give a hoot, my English grammar studies fell off a little bit after the holidays and a week-long vacation that I spent doing a lot of gardening. (Very happy with the gardening btw.)

However, on top of having to pay out $550 in taxes, my grandmother informing me that the exercise bike she gave me is going to cost me $250, attempting to pay off two credit cards, and buying gardening supplies and flowers, my parttime status is... getting questionable? Plus, the week-long vacation was nice and all, but we took a pay cut from that because we usually get more than 8 hours every night. Since we didn't work those days, we got 8 hour pay instead of our usual 9-11 hour pay. (We work 'til the job is done, however long that takes.)

As every day goes by, I am reminded again and again why I want to work for myself and why I am beginning to hate America. Rumors going around that the government is attempting to restrict or even ban at-home food gardening, I've just decided to stick to flowers in the flower bed and maybe two new trees and skip the tomatoes, potatoes, broccoli, etc. that I planned to plant this year. Financially, it's probably for the best anyways.

SO. I'm thinking about writing a little somethin'-somethin' to entertain myself and you guys. It'll also help me get back into a good writing routine.

I'm practicing better self-care, too. Drinking iced lemon water, cutting back on the coffee and energy drinks, washing my face more regularly, moisturizing my hands, feet, and face, and going to bed and getting up at the same times every day. Anyone who knows how difficult self-care is with ADHD, I salute you. It's hard. I have to compromise with myself just to take a shower most days.

Good tips on staying motivational in order to get some studying done would be appreciated. I hope you're all doing well. Feel free to message me if anyone ever needs someone to talk to, shit's hard out here. Keep on keepin' on.

[lydiaas]

https://www.tumblr.com/lydiaas/721277651598360576/httpswwwtumblrcomlydiaas721192699687043072h

Plot wise with black beard absolutely no clue what’s so ever 🤣 but jiara obviously from BTS we’ve got we’re getting jiara against the Carreras and I desperately need kie to not back down because quite frankly what her parents did is unforgivable after she told them she had already been kidnapped. I need JJ to back her up and tell them straight, he was holding back when Mike started on him before he stole the money clip so now, I need him to stand up for kie and maybe just maybe that will knock some sense into her parents.

I do love angst tho so I kinda hope luke does come between jiara, it makes sense. JJ goes into his shell when things are bad with Luke we saw that in season 1 he pulls away and tries to deal with things on his own, I can see that happening and kie reminding him he’s not alone anymore “we’ll handle it together” and then the make up from this angst could be so so good 🥰🥺.

I of course want affectionate jiara at all possible times, like you said the tiny moments is what us jiaras thrive on, the looks, small touches give it all to me.

And of course we all want a well lit kissing scene, my preference would be an ocean kiss but tbh at this point I just want it to be in daylight or you know don’t have to rely on our wonderful editors to brighten the kiss 😄.

What about you?

Very on the same page. I had thought her relationship with them had hit rock bottom in S3 but if the bts is correct is really seems like it will continue to deteriorate. The writers do love writing complicated parent/child relationships so I imagine the back and forth will continue but I think they need to pick a path early because we can't keep doing a retread of S1-S3. I'm not opposed to some reconciliation but want Kie to lay down firm boundaries with them and stick to them. I want JJ having her BACK and standing up for her, she deserves to have him fighting for her like she would for him.

If the only angst jiara are up against is the outside forces of their parents I'd be thrilled. Excited even. There is such opportunity for character growth there (especially for JJ) and I can see jiara coming out of it much stronger. It wouldn't feel right if they didn't falter a little bit under pressure because they are still growing into themselves and dealing with all their trauma.

The little moments of affection are needed and I want more bickering (with that flirtatious edge). I've noticed when I've been giffing lately how much that was missing from S3. A S1-S2 dynamic but with more physical touch and obvious couple behaviour thrown in + moments of softness. And a well lit kiss is a must. A DAYLIGHT KISS *with minimal yellow filter and no grain applied! In caps with emphasis so when Jonas logs onto tumblr.com later he sees this and jots it down.

[atozphantomsquadron]

Prologue

“If indeed you magnify yourselves against me, and make my humiliation an argument against me, know then that God has put me in the wrong, and closed his net about me. Behold, I cry out ‘Violence!’ but I am not answered; I call aloud, but there is no justice. […] Why do you, like God, pursue me? Why are you not satisfied with my flesh? Oh that my words were written! Oh that they were inscribed in a book! Oh that with an iron pen and lead they were graven in the rock for ever! For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then from my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.” -Job 19: 5-7, 23-27

Transcriber's Foreword

While doing research for a separate work, the occasion came that I needed a copy of a Federal military budget, which was quite cooperatively supplied to me by the General Accounting Office.  It was the discovery of a spare page, one that probably was not intended to be included, that led me to the book you hold in your hand now.

Let me back up a bit.  In November of last year I was assigned to write an article for a prominent blog site about budget overruns in defense.  My Freedom of Information Act request in hand, I contacted the GAO, and after about three weeks’ worth of bureaucratic wrangling I received the records I had been looking for: defense spending spreadsheets for the past ten years.  I should point out, these were about as dry of reading as you can imagine, so night after night of poring over giant lists of expenditures for manpower, equipment, and other such expenses started to get tedious after the first few nights.  It was on the fourth night that I found something interesting.

Looking like it was tacked to the back of a page by accident I found a small budget sheet which did not match the stationery of the spreadsheets.  In fact, it looked like it had been stuck to the other page with strawberry jam, like someone had been eating breakfast while packing up the spreadsheets to mail and collected this sheet by mistake.  (Wonderful government operation, right?)  Sipping my fifth cup of coffee of the evening, I brought the extra page over to the light and found some enlightening content:

-$6,800 motor oil

-$7,350 incense

-$21,000 obstetrician

-$8,355 tuna

-$2,100 shortened uniforms

-$35,000 barrack repairs (slices, burns, bullet holes)

-APPROVED PAID 8 December 2012 CIBO #A13

Now, only one of these expenses, maybe two, seemed to belong in military budgeting.  “Incense?”  “Shortened uniforms?”  These did not make any sense to me whatsoever.  I set the page aside and finished my original defense overrun article, which never mentioned the extra sheet.  I instead asked my editor what he would do if he had found it himself.

“Find out what I can,” he replied, “and write one hell of a book with the results.  Who knows what’ll happen?  You might take down the whole damn DoD.”

I immediately called my lawyer to attempt another FOIA request on the related materials to the sheet, including info on whatever “CIBO #A13” was.  I did not get very far: my request was denied with prejudice, according to counsel, because certain aspects were deemed military secrets and thus remained classified.  Everyone knows, however, that something as trivial as government disapproval is never enough to keep a good writer down.

I remembered that I was owed a favor by a former colleague who now worked in some shady office in DC (I never bothered to ask where).  I asked him about CIBO #A13, which made him stammer for a long time before asking to meet me in a public park not far from my home.  When I saw him, he was looking around in a panic, like people were chasing him.

“You weren’t followed, were you?”

I shook my head.  “My wife might, but she won’t stick around once she realizes you aren’t an affair.”

“Oh ha ha, very funny.”

I sat down next to him on a park bench and showed him the excess page from the defense budget spreadsheets.  “I just need to know what CIBO #A13 is, and why they would need things like what’s on this list.”

My friend rubbed the bridge of his nose before answering.  “You do know I could get killed for telling you what I know, right?”

“Oh come on, this looks like it’s someone’s shopping list, what the hell’s so secret about it?”

He sighed deeply.  “CIBO #A13 is a military unit that officially does not exist.  ‘CIBO’ is an internal acronym for Central Intelligence Black Ops: A13 is this unit’s designation.”

“Have you heard of this unit?”

“It’s hard not to.  They’re kind of secret celebrities, everybody within the government’s heard of them but nobody knows why they’re so well known.”

 Secret celebrities?  Never did a contradiction in terms pique my interest more.  “What do you know about them?”

“It’s not safe to talk here.  Walk this way.”

He led me down a path.  I think that was when I noticed the guys around us that were staring a little too intently.  We wound up in a bathroom facility, in the women’s side.

A little unsure about the situation and hoping no ladies walked in on us, I finally came to the meat of the issue.  “What is unit A13?”

My friend sighed as he closed and locked the door.  “It’s a supernatural unit.  The government officially claims it does not exist, and maintains plausible deniability regarding its operations.  It’s been involved in some major activity over the last eight years, but all of it has been kept hushed up by the government.”

Now this was getting interesting.  “What major activity?”

“Remember the civil war in Africa a few years back, that kingdom that got knocked down?”

“Oh yeah, what was it called … Jerzaan, right?”

“Exactly.  They were there.  They were the reason the civil war started.  Do you recall about four years ago, that televangelist that vanished into thin air?”

I nodded.  “I thought that was awful weird, one day he was the biggest name in the country and the next nobody’s seen him.”

“This unit was involved with that.  The government arranged so that his existence would completely vanish after A13 disposed of him.”

“Wait, wait, wait, disposed of?  These guys are assassins?”

My friend loosened his tie.  “Not exactly.  Hell, it’s probably easier if I do this.”

He slapped a piece of paper in my hand, bid me goodbye, and made his way out of the restroom.  I waited a couple of minutes before I left, looking at the piece of paper in my hand.  All there was on it was an Arizona phone number and the name “Sharpe.”

When I got home that night, after checking my messages and sealing myself in like it was my tomb, I dialed the number.  A very cheerful little girl’s voice on the other end, which I later discovered belonged to four-year-old Alanna Sharpe, happily greeted me and passed me along to her mother.  This led to my first conversation with Ariel Sharpe (nee Vibria).

Ariel at first was unsure about my lines of questioning.  It took a long time for me to gain her trust, to assure her that I was not trying to blackmail her or call her back into service.  After about four phone conversations with her, after getting to know hers and her daughter’s voices like they were my own family, I asked if I could conduct an interview in their home.

“Why do you want to talk to me?”  Her voice was very quiet and shy.  At this point, the thought was never even in my head that I might be asking her to commit a Federal offense just by talking to me.

“I’ve been given knowledge of your activities, and I’m fascinated by the history of them.  But mainly I want to hear about them directly from the people who lived it, the members of your unit, and thus far the only contact information I have is yours.”

She paused for a long time before responding.  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to my husband?  He was in the unit too, I’m sure you know.”

“Of course,” I lied.  I hadn’t known that!  “But I think I’d like to start with your perspective.  Nobody thinks of women serving in these kinds of units, and I’d like to change that perception.”

That seemed to do it.  She agreed to the interview session, on the condition that the exact location of the place we would conduct it, the Sharpe home, would remain secret.  This is a trust I have maintained despite repeated requests, from my agent and publisher and even family, for the address.  All I will say about the matter is that I arrived at the house two days later, my breath taken away by the majestic canyon view the house backs up to.

Ariel greeted me at my car and escorted me in.  The first impression I got from the house was its candidness, it was very compact and intimately decorated.  I also got the first look at Alanna, who to my surprise met me at eye level: Ariel had told me previously that her daughter was a little flier, and I saw the evidence of this in that she rarely if ever walked inside the house.  Or even let her feet touch the ground.

Ariel led us into the very comfortable den of the house, where we sat on an impossibly plush sofa, my digital recorder sitting between us on a coffee table.  As I played back our interview for the purposes of transcribing Ariel’s life story, I was recently struck by some of our words on the recording:

“Is this appearance comfortable for you, Mr. Martinez?”

“It’s okay, if that’s what makes you comfortable.  But to tell the truth, I would much rather speak to the authentic you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.  I think I can handle it, if that’s all right with you.”

At this point in the recording, there is a period of loud white noise, followed by a gasp on my end of things.  I thought I had been prepared for Ariel’s above-standard appearance given that I’d just been greeted by a flying toddler, but nothing prepared me for seeing the woman’s real appearance for the first time.  It was a revealing experience, in that her appearance in equal parts invokes thoughts of pity and almost unwatchable beauty, like she has made the most of what technology tried to play God on her with.

This was the start of my relationship with this phantom squadron of supernaturals, otherwise designated as CIBO #A13.  What you hold now in  your hands is Ariel’s account of her life, leading up to that dusty June day when I came to interview this amazing woman, one who has been through so much pain and torment, yet has found so much love and peace.  I have tried to refine it into what can be considered a memoir, but for the most part I have kept Ariel’s words from the interview intact.  At some points, you will find footnotes in regards to things Ariel mentioned which I had to look up later, including the source of that white noise I mentioned earlier.

With the current rise of anti-supernatural sentiment in this country, fueled by paranoid speculation and fanaticism from every corner, it is my hope that by reading the words of this brave soul all sides of the issue will come together and realize that deep down, most if not all of us are truly human, truly good, and truly want to make things better for our children.  Ariel and her husband have done wonders with their daughter Alanna, who is a bright, intelligent, and cheerful little girl, wings and all.  Yes, I may risk imprisonment by bringing this to print, by making this story public, but it’s a necessary sacrifice in my book for the value of the truth.  Much like Ariel says about her husband and daughter, her life’s story is “a precious treasure, one that betters the world because of its presence.”

[minthe-lover]

I agree with you the style can certainly be nice at times and when there is some actual effort, the composition can be good as well (tbh so are most of the Webtoons, I’ve yet to see one that truly has “bad” art in it) but here, at least, a few issues as to why the writing/art has fallen so rapidly (apologies in advance bc it’s long)

- the early style was, tbh, far more simple than it is now, but the lineless idea kinda bit it in the butt, since that seems to be the biggest time consumer art-wise. This could have been fixed with line art that is colored to their skin, or even just light lineart to begin with, especially as they’re basically using it now anyway. Tbh the lineless look actually makes it look worse in a lot of cases compared to the lined stuff. You can still get the same look as long as the coloring is the same.

- the cast is simply too big. If it were a limited cast (HxP, Zeus, Demeter, Hecate, Hermes, Thanatos, Minthe, maybe Hera and Eros/Psyche + Aphrodite and that’s it) then suddenly now everyone has a fairly distinct look, and now there’s more time to develop their relationships and stories and maybe have some cameos here and there, but that’s not the case here. There’s just too many characters to keep track of, and with the lack of color variation and same faces/bodies, it becomes even harder to tell people apart, especially the main character who by all counts SHOULD be the most distinct yet isn’t for ?? Reasons?? It’s not great Minthe is one of the few actual distinct characters and she’s one of the bad guys.

- it’s fairly obvious there’s no planning in involved. So many plots and characters are dropped and add at any moment: Kronos came out of nowhere and is taking up far too much time, Persephone’s act of wrath and it’s retcon via Eris is just stupid and tbh removed any true agency Persephone could have ever had, Apollo was a disgusting use of SA to push a romance along and was somehow fixed in a single therapy session, and much more. The HadesxPersephone myth is very ABC about how to adapt it and can especially be used well in a modern setting, but that’s not what’s happening here. It seems more like Rachel throwing whatever idea she has at the wall and whatever else is getting attention on Webtoons and being like wait, I can do that too! But that’s doesn’t show a sign of a good writer, it shows a lack of creativity and a lack of confidence. She needs a real break to actually work with her editor and make sense of all of this instead of ignoring them and trying to think up the next plot line to keep it going. You’d much rather try and scrap together a half way decent ending over dragging it along like it is now with no end in sight and no sense of direction. Sure, it makes her money, but it’s not going to matter when her life’s work is see as rushed and poorly made. The whole story doesn’t need to be planned down entirely nor does it needs to be Shakespearean quality, of course, but it’s not great you can tell she, along with others, are simply winging it. That’s not good.

- the art direction is all over the place and doesn’t make much sense. I understand The Underworld is so dark to where Hades often blends as sort of visual cue he belongs there, but then doesn’t that say Persephone isn’t? Since she sticks out so badly? The reverse can be said for Hades on earth, where it’s all pink for … some reason? The colors are also never consistent (you can eyedrop the colors to any random episodes and see Persephone especially changes color a lot despite no time passing nor light changes) and for some reason either far too saturated that it looks amateurish (neon needs to be used sparingly) or so desaturated that everything looks washed out, which combined has a visually unpleasant look with little to no visual harmony. Not to mention some of the visual cues are very strange and even off putting. Why does Hades and Persephone look like carbon copies to Kronos and Rhea, a doomed, toxic relationship and his literal parents? Why go on and on another how uniquely beautiful Persephone is yet have all the women look exactly like her, especially the nymphs and gene random underworld citizens than even Hades gets them confused for her? Why is there so much comedy out into what should be serious moments? What is there so much visual and written time making Hades and Apollo parallels? I could keep going, but I’ll be here all day.

Anyway, I have more to say but it’s getting too long. I’m not saying there’s not a lot of good in this comic, but there’s frankly too many art and writing issues that are both Webtoons‘ mismanagement but also self imposed by Rachel’s lack of planning and/or care that drags it all down.

Yeah I fully agree with you, don't know what else I could add. It's all some great points!

[bmbochangetales]

Please humor me as I write something a little less kinky, a bit of a parody, and a bit personal. All rolled up in fuzzy heart warming tale. If this isn’t your thing, that’s cool, keep scrolling. I just needed to do something fun and unserious for a minute.

*******************

(Opening: Monster- Irene & Seulgi plays over a woman sneaking into a lab)

Standing in the science lab she was digging for the serum. She knew it was here. The lab bragged about it’s impressive serum. It allowed woman to become the prettiest, empty headed version of herself. An increase in breast, ass and libido. Lowered intelligence and inhibitions. The waiting list was two years long. For such an advanced science company, their security system belonged in the 1980s.

The vials were in prepackaged syringes on the counter. Breasts growth, hair growth, iq loss. Iq increase, libido controls, fertility, lactation drops, hucow formula, puppy and bunny formulas. Of course right in front, in the pink. Duh!

It was all she ever wanted. To be pretty and be noticed. For someone to care. No one wants a bookish writer. No wants plain or ugly girls. This serum was the solution. Her solution to once and for all to leave this boring life and being one the brainless beauties in the population. And she just sped up the two year waiting process.

She prepared to inject herself as the door burst open. She didn’t have time to react before someone yelled.

“Wait! You don’t have to take it! You are great the way you are”

It was her editor for the publishing company.

“I do! I’m so tired of no one wanting me. Just be me? No one wants that! I won’t be missed and maybe people will appreciate the bimbo me better,”

(“Feel Special” by Twice starts to play)

“I love your writing. The way you use words and create the imagery in everything you write. I love the chaos of your writing. I can hardly understand it until it’s fully done. But it’s you. Chaotic, wonderful, lovely. You are kind and sweet and kinky. You are patient and understanding. You are spacy and miss the point completely sometimes which is hilarious for how smart you can be but I don’t care, I really like you. If you want to take the bimbo serum so much, I won’t stop you, but I would miss this you. You don’t have to be a brainless bimbo unless you are sure it’s the only thing that would make you happy.”

(The Feels by Twice)

Who would write her stories? And keep her editor’s ego in its balance of self pity and over confidence. The man who made her laugh most days. Teased her for liking the basic things like pumpkin spice and Starbucks, but secretly enjoyed them too. She liked him and here he was admitting he liked her too. The real her. Normal average erotica writer. Flaws and all.

She put the vial on the counter. She could still put herself on the list and do it the right way if it didn’t work out with the editor. She went into his waiting arms. They stayed for a few moments until she felt a pinch.

She looked down and saw the syringe sticking out of her side. It was the Breastbeauty Max serum. Guaranteed to increase cup size 2-4 cups with no or minimal temporary other effects. The looked in each other’s eyes and he smiled.

“One or two doses of the tiddy serum never hurt anyone,” he teased. They both marveled as her small B cups began to grow. The two doses worked wonders as she steadily grew to a full, bouncy E cup. She jiggled them and grabbed his hand so he could have the first touch.

They shared a smile and kissed as the sunset and a long night between the two began. The first of many. And you know what? She never did need to get on that waiting list. Good thing too. It ended up turning all the bimbos into cum addicted goo girls. The tiddy serum was fine though.

(Que Ending Credit BTS- Yet To Come)

****************

Just a note to my readers: remember all my stories are purely fantasy and 99% of the time are not meant to depict things even remotely realistic. Nothing wrong with having a kink and/or fetish and to share it among consenting adults. But also remember the right person will love you the way you are and will care for you in the ways you need. You know who you are 😘😘😘😘😘 and no I don’t have an editor if you can’t tell by the insane amount of mistakes that I lovingly (lazily) leave in my own posts. Also, I just gave myself away as a Kpop fan 😂😘

[katnip225]

So remember that au where the dream smp is a comic book in the manhunt universe. Well more of that. This is what manhunt!Dream thinks of each character. Now I will just be using the real names but in the comic the names are different. Not doing the tales of the smp characters. Might also get some backstory for Manhunt!Dream

Techno - As stated in my prev post, this is Dream's fav character. He has regularly copied ideas from him. He loves all the pets that Techno has. And how no matter what Techno always follows his beliefs. Might also remind him of his childhood rival.

Phil - finds the character very funny. The 3 months thing. Through does have some very good serious moments like Nov 16th and Doomsday. The guy is clearly not perfect but he really has a hard time hating the guy. Only time he did hate Phil was during Doomsday for letting Friend die and hurting Ghostbur.

Wilbur - easily his 2nd fav. The way his fall was done. It was so heartbreaking. Then his revival. To find out about being alone for 13 years was rough. Dream feels for the guy since being on the run is very lonely. The only people he talks to is when the hunters get close enough for banter. He really hopes that Wilbur gets the help that he needs.

Ghostbur (yes counting this as a different character) - loves the guy. so sweet and just wants to help. Through feels very sad because of the memory thing and the blue. Plus the speech that he gave on Doomsday.

Tommy - this kid can't catch a break. He feels so bad for the kid. Tommy is a good kid that overall does not mean harm. The only thing that Dream hates Tommy for is killing the cat. Dream likes animals and while can understand why Tommy did it, still found himself crying over the cat's death. Dream always wanted pets but his life before on the run was rough and now there is no way he will get one

Tubbo - another kid he feels sorry for. Dream feels bad for Tommy but for some reason Tubbo hits harder. Maybe it is because Tubbo reminds him of one of his neighbor's kid. They are pretty similar in personality from what he remembers. He was sad when the neighbors moved. The scene of Tubbo crying hurt so much. He really wanted to jump into the comic and comfort him.

Ranboo - Easily his 3rd fav. The memory book. The ender walking. The weird connection to main bad guy. The begging to be locked up in the prison. Plus love the marriage to Tubbo. Really hopes they can talk to each other. This comic needs one healthy relationship that lasts. Reminds him of this enderman hybrid that helped. Found the kid lost in the woods and badly hurt. So helped get the kid back to help then took it to the village with the nice baker lady. It was a nice village so hopefully the kid is okay.

Michael - yes doing their son. Super cute. The in comic reason for keeping Michael inside is for safety. I like to imagine there is a small mini series of Michael playing pretend or sneaking out to meet the other kids.

Fundy - neutral. Does not like him but does not hate him. Through is curious about the seeing the future thing. Wonders if this is his god's blood in work. (in the comic, Wilbur is confirmed to be a demigod. Only Phil and Techno know about it but it was confirmed)

Yogurt - cute kid. Hangs out with Michael when he sneaks out.

Puffy - a cool pirate and therapist. Kinda wish that she was his mom. He does not have any parents but he feels like Puffy would be a cool mom. She went feral when Foolish was killed.

Niki - reminds him of a baker he meet once while on the run. This was before he was well known so he could risk being seen. She gave him some free cookies and gave him a discount on the bread when she saw that he did not have much money. Super sweet and nice but also not one to be messed with. He saw how that baker handled an attempted robbery. Sad to see her wanting to hurt Tommy but was so happy that she is healing.

Jack: Feels bad for the character since he is put through so much. Even had to crawl out of hell.

Karl - love the guy. The time travel spin off series is super cool. feels bad for the losing memories things.

Quackity - flip flops between feeling bad and hating the guy. Quackity has been through a lot and Las Nevadas is cool. But he is just doing what the main villian did. Please just heal so you can be at peace. Hopefully him and fiancés will get back together

Jschlatt - great villian. hated the guy. Also reminds him of his neighbors. The father. Through was a much better person. Actually wanted to give a better life for his son (Yes in this au, DadSchlatt is a thing and he is a good father)

Purple - felt bad for the ufo being blowen up but does not feel anything towards him.

Punz - He respect the guy. Reminds him of a mercenary person that once was after him. Through stopped after realizing that the pay was not worth all the chase. Needed to be payed more

Ponk - felt bad for losing his arm but otherwise neutral for the character

Skeppy - over all neutral. Nice guy and feels bad for the possession thing.

Eret - liked the guy then hated the guy then went back to liking him. Glad the character was making up for the whole betrayal thing.

XD - does know what to make of this character. Through does not trust the god with George

Drista - a fun character that can cause a lot of chaos. Would want as a sister. Yes he might get attacked by a fork but hey he already has a younger brother.

Kristen - not much is known about her. Only that she is Wilbur's mom (in the comic, Wilbur does say his mom is a fridge but I am going on what Phil said. Which is that Wilbur got confused when Phil pointed to the fridge which had a pic of his mom)

MD - fun guy. So sad to see him die. Was really helping Tommy

Mamacita - another fun character through has not been seen since MD's death.

Sally - in the comic Sally is a shapeshifter through the writer wanted them to be a fish. Their editor refused to allow that. Not really shown much outside flash backs. I go back and forth on how good of a mom she was. So if she was good then Dream liked her. If not then he hates her.

Slimecicle - very confused. not like conflicted. Just confused.

Sam Nook - like him. Only one he trusts Tommy with. If he could becomes friends with Hunter!Sam would totally ask if he can build something like Sam Nook

Sam - really hates the dude. Does not care that the main bad guy asked Sam to build it. Sam has control so everything is Sam's doing. Plus the whole thing with Ponk. Part of him does remind dream of Hunter!Sam but that was earlier in the comic. Hunter!Sam would never hurt his partner (Yes Hunter!Sam is dating Ponk)

Ant - again the character remind him of Hunter!Ant. Through overall neutral. Does feel bad for the whole possession by the egg thing

Sapnap - hopefully gets back with Quackity. The dude really gets the short end of the stick. Also reminds him of Hunter!Sapnap. Through hopefully his relationship goes better then dsmp!Sapnap (yes Quaickity and Karl are his boyfriends)

George - reminds him of Hunter!Geroge. The weird dream comics were funny. feels bad that the character can't tell what is a dream and what is real.

Bad - again remind him of Hunter!Bad. Only reason why Dream does not hate dsmp!Bad is because he is being possessed by the egg. He did not like Foolish being killed. Also finds it sweet that the character was willing to do something for Skeppy. (yes. Bad and Skeppy have the same relationship as canon)

Dream - is a great villian. very evil. Through as stated before. Does not like the prison treatment. Does see himself in the guy but it is like all his more negative traits were turned up to 1000. Through Dream is lonely and does not make attachments, there is one he can't get rid of. Since that attachment is why he is doing all of this

Foolish - can probably tell he really likes Foolish. reminds him of his younger brother. Foolish being killed was the one time he needed to put the comic down and take a break.

that is everyone. There are a few more that I really don't watch so have no idea what Manhunt!Dream's opinion would be.

[stxleslyds]

NIGHTWING #81

UMM... HOW ABOUT NO. 

Ever since Tom Taylor took over Nightwing I have only made a post about one issue of his (I will leave it here Nightwing #78), that issue was beautiful, it was a solid start and the little things that made me feel a bit icky were not mentioned in the post because the issue was good.

Then the issues felt like connectors or just very bland story wise. I had problems with the book also feeling like a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book instead of just Nightwing. There were many instances where Dick alone could have gotten himself out of situations without Barbara, but because she was there the opportunity to show that he can do things was taken from him. I guess what I am trying to say is that the book has disappointed me but I didn’t feel like making a post because it was too early and this is an ongoing book that Taylor said he planned on continuing for a while, but now I can’t not make a post.

A few days ago, I finally read the Red Hood story in Urban Legends (I have a review for that one too I will link it here Red Hood part 4) and I couldn’t stand how OOC and disappointing the story/characterization has been. I am saying this because I am only reading these two books at the moment, ONLY these two, and all I have gotten from them is shit.

I know it’s still early to say that the Nightwing book is bad but…I hated this issue, I hated it with all of my heart. But now that I am a bit calmer, I have come up with some ideas of what is truly going on with the Melinda situation.

Anyway, let me give you my thoughts.

There are big Wilson Fisk vibes coming from both Blockbuster and Melinda Zucco. Those two will lie, manipulate and be evil every chance they get. They are working together to make Nightwing disappear. I know it. The whole “make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city” idea does not include Nightwing.

Melinda might not want to burn anything down but she sure isn’t a hero. This woman accepted the position of Mayor after watching Blockbuster kill the former mayor. I understand that talking with the BHPD isn’t the best idea but this woman feels way too comfortable in the presence of a killer.

She is cunning and she has plans, I strongly believe that she might be a villain and that she will betray Blockbuster and take all the power (if it reaches that point) to herself.

Heartless is just another weirdo, he tricks both Nightwing and the reader into thinking that he has a soft spot for kids but surprise! He doesn’t. There isn’t much to say about him, he just has very complex gadgets and doesn’t know how to fight. I don’t even have any ideas about who he might be.

What I know though is that there was absolutely no need for Dick to think that he had “underestimated” Heartless, my love you threw your stick at him while he was looking directly at you, there was a 50/50 chance of him catching it. I swear I don’t understand the need to write him thinking that mostly because Taylor then has Dick swiping the floor with the guy, not only is it a simple fight (for Dick) but it’s also boring for him. Taylor’s writing is so annoying sometimes, he just loves to write extra things that are out of place like the “Tim Drake. Thought of by many as the best Robin” why the fuck did he put that there? Honestly, what was the point of having Dick say that, I don’t read a Nightwing book to have Tim Drake praise. If it doesn’t offer anything to the story that is being told then keep the thought to yourself Tom...

Moving forward the scene in the pier was quite nice, mostly because it’s Dick’s quick thinking that gets everyone to safety, he knows exactly what to do and how to contact the Maritime distress channel.

He has hope for his city, he knows there is good in it and he believes help will show up when lives are about to be lost. I loved that, just like Heartless said, Nightwing IS Bludhaven’s Guardian Angel. Once again, I am having Daredevil vibes from Dick (like from the show)

After the fight we get to see consequences of Dick not healing properly from a shot to the head. He loses his consciousness which is extremely dangerous but luckily Tim is at arm’s reach to help him out of the pier.

There are many things I want to talk about from the scenes that happen after Dick wakes up in his apartment so here we go.

First of all, Bitewing is adorable, she loves Dick the most and was happy to see him awake once more, what a good girl!

Secondly, Barbara, honey, you do not have three names, you aren’t Batgirl anymore, you are a grown woman that needs to move on from a mantle that has other people that can do something else/better with it. And we all know that this Oracle is just the ableist version of Oracle. So yeah…all I ask is for Barbara to move on from Batgirl, Cass and Stephanie are right there, enough is enough.

In these panels we have Dick, Tim and Barbara being kinda dismissive about the homeless kids, and it has been happening for so many issues, what is the point, Taylor? You made Dick a millionaire and you just can’t have him say or think for a second that he will monetarily help those kids and make sure they are put somewhere safe? You are really going to wait up until you have Dick running for Mayor or something to help the kids? I just don’t get it. Kids living on the streets and each time they are mentioned the three heroes of the book act like it’s normal and doesn’t need fixing. What the fuck.

Then we have the gang finding out that Melinda Zucco is the new mayor, the woman has an FBI file and a redacted one! This makes me think two things, either things are like I thought in the beginning of the post (she is evil and very good at it) or this woman is actually FBI and she is undercover (this one is less likely because of what happens at the end of the issue).

What we can see from the file that Barbara found is very little, but in these two pictures we can see that maybe she was put in foster care and x age? Also, she was apparently investigated in April of 20xx, the investigation must have been recent, why would the FBI investigate a minor or college student? What if these files were implanted by Melinda for someone to find them, and for her to have some sort of proof of her lies? If the file is about her being left in foster care or something while would the file be redacted? I don’t know, everything about her is shady and I don’t trust anything from or about her.

This could be a complex and very interesting character but Tom Taylor and DC really love to do stupid shit for shock value (more of this later).

All the new information (the Maroni, Blockbuster and now this very shady Mayor) has Dick saying that it is a bit too much for him and yeah, it is too much, you know who could help? Red Hood. I am of course not talking about current DC comics Red Hood, I am talking about the Red Hood that I would love to see, just yesterday I had an ask about who would I like to see working with Jason and I said Nightwing because Dick puts a lot of responsibility on his shoulders so it would be nice if they negotiated and each could work on different crime areas in Bludhaven, if only DC would hear me…

Anyway, now that we come to the end of the scene let’s talk about Barbara’s shirt.

That was unnecessary and not funny. That’s all it was. Yeah, I know it’s a meme and I know it was included for funny ha-ha purposes but I am not laughing. Bruce has been written as abusive towards his kids for so long, Jason, Tim and Dick have been physically harmed by Bruce and writers use it as just something that happens, there are never repercussions for the Bat. And this shirt sucks because Dick was Robin there and he was a kid, so having Barbara or anyone wearing a shirt with Batman hitting Robin!Dick right in front of Dick is just disgusting. What if someone wore a shirt that had Joker beating Jason with a crowbar in front of Jason, would that be a funny ha-ha too? What about Dick wearing a shirt with the Joker shooting Barbara, is that a funny ha-ha? The answer to those questions is no, it’s not funny.

The idea of that shirt shouldn’t have been pitched, drawn or included after the editor took a look at it.

The picture is a meme in our world, not in theirs. And the readers aren’t laughing.

 Back to the issue, Dick is left alone in his apartment to rest (seriously? You think the man that showed up to help Bruce in Gotham with a knee brace is going to rest?) but he can’t, he just found out that Mayor Zucco might be trouble for Bludhaven and might be working with not only Blockbuster but the Maroni family. He is not waiting one more second to have a chat with her.

Dick is obviously still concussed so of course he grabs a mask that has a camera that Oracle can view, and of course he enters yet another window without being careful.

Melinda and Audre were obviously waiting for him.

But here is where the real bullshit begins. Dick is unmasked.

I am so mad; it’s been four issues and Dick gets his ass in a trap and is unmasked by a villain? Are you kidding me right now?

But that’s not all, after Dick breaks free and accuses Melinda of being the daughter of the man that killed his parents, she pulls out a uno reverse card and says that her actual father is John Grayson, and that she is his sister.

How about no. Absolutely not. Go away.

Let’s re-visit Melinda’s appearances in the book so far so we can start theorizing about her real intentions or if she could be saying the truth.

Back in issue #78 where she is first introduced to us, after Melinda watches Blockbuster kill the mayor, she goes home and tells her Audre that she is now mayor because Blockbuster did what he does, so she knows that this guy is trash and a killer. But that’s not all, Audre asks her if she came across Dick Grayson to which Melinda answers “I am not ready for him yet”. Audre suggests she talks to him sooner rather than later because she might not have “another chance”, and the issue ends with Melinda agreeing with her while she is looking at a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle framing Dick’s face.

That whole thing? Shady. Melinda, obviously, wanted to talk to Dick Grayson, probably to tell him that she is his sister, but why is there a time limit, why is Audre telling Melinda that she can’t wait too long? Is it because her undercover work is ending soon? Is it because it’s not real at all and she needs to tell that lie in order to move forward with some sort of plan? I don’t know…

In issue #79 Melinda (and Audre) are out in the open with Maroni and they are talking about her becoming the next Mayor, Nightwing was watching from afar so this is his first contact with her. And it might be the first time that Melinda and her friend see Nightwing in action too. I cannot tell if she is aware that Nightwing/Dick Grayson are the same person here.

In #80 she doesn’t make an appearance.

But now in #81 she is taking her place as Mayor of Bludhaven, there Commissioner McClean takes her somewhere she didn’t expect to go (she is shown not knowing that Maroni and Blockbuster were in the next room over). Once in the room she refuses to take the cash from McClean but she will take the money as a transaction (for a second I thought she wouldn’t take the money but she did because she is very corrupt) and talks to Maroni once more. Before I talk about what happens with Blockbuster let me say this, she acts so distant to Maroni, she calls him Mr. Maroni every single time and she comes off as cold and feeling no type of way while talking with someone that is part of the family that actually raised her, and this is not because she is in a room full of other people, she did it too in #79. It seems weird that she acts that way with someone that took her under his wing since she was eight years old.

When she sits with Blockbuster he says “tell us your plan for my city” to which she says all of this: “My plan, Blockbuster, is to make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city. But to do so in a way that builds on the good work you’ve already done I have no interest in burning anything down.”

At the start of the post I said she gave me big Wilson Fisk vibes and that right there is why. She is shady, she has plans on top of plans, she calls Roland Desmond Blockbuster to his face but says that he has done good work for Bludhaven, which is weird because Blockbuster destroys Bludhaven a couple of times a year…

As I said before whatever she has planned does not include Nightwing, and here is where I kinda start theorizing a bit more, what if Blockbuster told Melinda Nightwing’s real name, he used to know who he was once upon a time…

Later in this issue when Nightwing is going to Melinda’s place Audre is already waiting for him right next to the window (with a sword), so, was he making an insane amount of noise or were they told to be ready for him?

Melinda traps him and takes his mask off, she barely seems surprised about Nightwing being Dick, she barely reacts when he jumps at her. She is in complete control of the situation and proves that by disarming Dick, as fast as he accuses her of being Zucco’s daughter she tells him that her real father is John Grayson.

She is in complete control. She has to be lying, she put a stop to whatever Dick had to say and do in seconds. This woman is trained and she is manipulative as fuck!

And if she isn’t lying then fuck DC and fuck Tom Taylor, this woman is either younger or the same age as Dick, John Grayson was not a cheater, the man is dead, has been dead for so long, don’t throw dirt on his name at this point. I refuse to believe this is true.

I honestly think that she is evil, and knows more than we are aware of, her first appearance was shady as fuck, let's suppose that she didn’t truly know that Dick was Nightwing, why on earth did she have a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle on top of Dick’s face? That doesn’t seem like something a sister would do! And why would this be information that is so important that she NEEDS to tell him in a certain amount of time?

It’s fucking insane. Tom Taylor, if she is actually Dick's sister then shame on you. Disgusting, what is with writers and cheating, what the hell is going on? Dick doesn’t need to think back to his parents and see a cheater in one of them. This better be Melinda being a cruel and vile human being that is trying to emotionally hurt Dick/Nightwing so she and Blockbuster can do whatever its they want to do.

That’s all I have to say.

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 4:   The Mad Leader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: References to violence, minor assault, 

Author’s note: First off, I’d like to send a special Thank You to someone who was a huge inspiration to me and to this story. This is the chapter that really started it all and I was inspired by @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng  ‘s mafia reaction series. She is a fantastic person and was one of the first people I showed this Be My Light to when I was too scared to post it. She is a beautiful soul and wonderful writer. Thank you for the push. 

Another Big thanks to my editor for sticking with me all this time and into the future. And, of course, to all the people who are reading, commenting, and reblogging this. I can’t tell you all how much is means to me. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Be My Light. (P.S. I have a thing for RM in a long trench coat.)

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine , @mrsfortune1306 , @lovesick-heart0 , @iamnamjoonsbxtch , @deathkat657 , @deeepvibes , @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns , @joyfullyobsessed , @elvencantation , 

                                   Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

              You stared at the cell phone clutched in your hand, your mind spinning with so many questions. Who were those people? Why did talking to this ‘RM’ make you feel like something bad was coming? With that deep, serious tone, were they just as dangerous as the man with the cane? And what kind of normal person calls themselves ‘RM’? Agust was already on the edge of interesting and odd as it was. Scanning over the still lit screen, you wondered what other names were in the contact list. Other than ‘God of Destruction’, the last few calls you could see without going through the device belonged to ‘Mochi’, ‘My Favorite’, and ‘Worldwide Pain in my Ass’. Based on those names, you couldn’t begin to imagine who was gonna match those names.

               It was safe to assume that this RM guy was concerned about the man in the suit trying to finish the job. The hospital had a good security team but you thought it best to talk to Doctor- Henry- to see if more could be done. Your hand paused as it went to put the cell phone back with Agust’s things; if RM or any of the odd named voices tried to contact you for an update, they would most likely call that, instead of trying to navigate the hospital switch board. Figuring it was the best option, you placed the phone safely in your scrub’s pocket as you moved to the bedside for one last check on the patient. Agust hadn’t moved again since right before the phone call and was still as could be. The monitors were all reading normally. There was a blood transfusion line in his arm to help replace what he had lost, along with another IV pushing fluids and medication. You adjusted his arm to make it more comfortable for him once he woke up.

               “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” you said as you fixed his blankets. “Please, try not to do anything until I get back.”

               You slipped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind you. There was an anxious feeling that crept back into your gut, the same one you felt when you had first heard the gun shots ring out from the silence of the construction site. Your mind had so many thoughts and scenarios running through it that you felt overwhelmed. Things like, ‘what if the man with the cane and rough voice came here? Would he shoot his way through the floors until he found Agust? Were you really as safe as you hoped?’ The hospital had been under a few threats but nothing had ever come from those except words. It would be best to stay as cautious as possible. You had too many friends and patients to not take your feelings seriously.

               As you made your way towards your station, you were surprised to see that Henry was already there leaning over the desk with the phone pressed up against his ear. He pulled a pad of paper from the other side of the desk and started scribbling something down as he nodded and spoke in a low tone to whomever was on the other end. That saves me from having to page him, you mused. Henry did a double take towards you when he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. He beaconed you over with an urgent wave of his hand. The calm yet awkward demeanor from earlier had been replaced with a more serious one. Once you were within an arm’s reach of him, he reassured whomever he was talking to that ‘everything will be taken care of’ and hung up.

               “Good,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I need you to help me.”

               “Henry, about that John Doe patient. I was able to talk to someone close to him. I think we may need to alert the security team about- “

               “I’ve already talked to them. The hospital is going on alert for any suspicious activity entering the hospital. And we are actually moving the patient to one of the private units upstairs. I just got off the phone with the director and we’ve got everything worked out for you so you’ll be safe,” he said over his shoulder as he started walking down the hall.

               “Wait, what does that mean? What do you mean by worked everything out?” You took extra long steps to keep up with his brisk pace.

               “The same person who demanded higher security for that patient requested that you be kept with him as his private staff until otherwise. Which means you’ll be in the secure ward with him in case anything happens. It’s gonna be for the best. You were the first one with him and it’s gonna be more comfortable if he doesn’t have to get acclimated to someone else after all this. Don’t worry, we’ve got it worked out with Jax already.”

               Henry led you back into Agust’s room and made fast work of disconnecting him from the machines that surrounded him. He pulled the IV bags down and placed them on the bed by the still form. Meanwhile, you were frozen at the end of the bed, feeling dizzy from how fast he seemed to expect you to understand what was happening. This wasn’t the first gang related case you had been assigned to since starting at Mercy, nor was it the first gunshot case; why did this sudden change to the routine make you feel ever more nervous? Never had you moved a patient into a secure wing designed from more severe or quarantined patients before just because someone had requested it. Henry called your name to shake you from your thoughts and motioned you to move to the side of the bed as he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and pushed the bed from the wall. As you helped guide it from the room, you couldn’t help but feel the tension grow.

               “So, I am just supposed to stay locked up in some room like a prisoner? And be someone’s private nurse? What about the rest of my patients here? I can’t just leave Amber to tend to them all alone. We are short staffed as it is,” you mentioned as you navigated everyone into the elevator at the end of the hall.

               Henry hit a button and the elevator started to move. He leaned close to look you in the face, his eyes filled with seriousness. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is strange but you just have to trust me. I don’t know all the details but someone particularly important has to be involved to make the director so quick to comply with whatever they asked. But no matter what, your safety is my priority, maybe a bit more than my patients. I’m sure the director thinks that too. Whoever it is must just want to make sure this guy has the best care possible. And when he gets here, he’ll probably want to hear from you what happened. And if whatever gang did this does try anything, I don’t want you to worry because no one is going to get to him or you. Only the director, you, and I will have access to this room or know where he is. Apparently, the man the director talked to said he would have a way to get a hold of you and prove his identity to gain access. I know how you are, Y/N, you are a great person. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But don’t think that you are inconveniencing anyone; Jax has already rearranged everything and made some calls. I really need you to think about yourself now. And what is best is for you is to do what I am asking and not over think this right now.”

               Henry was being so sincere that you couldn’t find the voice to make any arguments. You gave him a weak nod and tried to take what he said to heart. As Amber had pointed out before, one of your qualities was that you put others well before yourself. Hence, why you were in this predicament. As the doors opened onto the new floor, you promised him that you would try.

               The door opened onto a floor where the more severe, long term patients were kept. This floor could, also, be used for quarantining or the more delicate of patients. At the moment, you knew it had only a few occupants: a coma patient, a patient suffering from extreme burns, and someone from the psych ward that needed more focused attention. To enter this ward, you needed a key card, making this more isolated than your full and frantic floor. Henry commented there was no record that Agust had been moved in any of the files. And if anyone tried to look him up, it would be like he never existed. The person who had called to make all this happen had said he’d contact you and that he and his colleagues were to say they were here to perform community service if asked by anyone else. Apparently, they deemed it as security protection. Henry had you swipe your ID to gain access to the floor and you made your way down the silent hall to the vacant room Henry had staked out for you to stay in. The room was bigger than the one you were used to on your floor. There was a small couch across from where the bed was to go, a private bath off near the entrance, and even a TV in the corner. There was, also, a small recliner near where the head of the gurney was to rest. You imagined you’d be there most of the time. Henry helped you set everything back up in the room and did a quick check on the patient after he was secured in his new residence.

               “Hopefully, he’s gonna wake up a bit soon. He’s reacting well to what I’m doing,” Henry commented as he checked Agust’s pupils constrict as he shined his pen light in them. He gave some instructions about his IV and transfusion processes. He gave you a quick run down of the floor in case you needed anything. “Until he wakes up, I guess feel free to do whatever in here. It can be like a mini vacation. You know, if you ignore all the weird stuff happening. You can watch some TV or order some food. The mysterious man said to spare no expense when it came to our patient or you. I promise by Friday this will be all over and we can go out and talk about nicer things. Okay?”

               Before you could stop yourself, you felt your cheeks get hot and you turned your eyes to the floor. This was not the best place for this, but you knew Henry did it to only ease the anxiety you were feeling. He was almost too perfect. Henry promised to check in once he had finished his rounds as he left from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. You heard the security lock click into place, knowing it would only open from the inside or if you had an ID card. You allowed yourself to drop into the recliner, allowing everything to wash over you. Paranoia was thick in the air as you tried to make sense of everything. Henry was right; whoever these people were they must just want to talk to you and this was easier than scouting the halls. But the thought did very little to chase the nervousness away. Your hands started to rub together out of tension, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles one by one with your thumbs. You took a few deep breaths as you tried to force yourself out of the impending panic. Your eyes looked over at the bed. You tried to remind yourself that you needed to keep it together and be strong for him. Then your eyes landed on his hand. You remembered when you were hiding behind the counter when the man with the cane was getting closer and closer. And when Agust had reached over and squeezed your hand. In that moment, he gave you reassurance with such a small gesture, not thinking of himself. You remembered how genuine it felt. It’d be nice if you could do that now, you thought with a weak smile.

               Instead, you settled for forcing yourself to think of something else. You read through his charts, tapped through some news on your phone, and tried to people watch out the window behind the couch. The afternoon sun had started making its way towards the horizon; how quickly the day had ended up flying by. You had decided against turning on the television for now, thinking how awkward it would be for him to wake up to you watching some trash TV show. You tried walking around the room to get a sense of where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But all of that only killed twenty minutes and you were still stir-crazy. There wasn’t much you could do for Agust at the moment, except allow him to rest without you trying to hold his hand or anything else.

               Suddenly, there was a buzzing in your pocket; it was Agust’s phone. You were a bit ashamed at how quickly you reached for it. There was a new text message. It was from a new named contact: Sunshine. The preview of the message said, ‘To Miss Nurse’, making your assumption that the people on the other end would have expected you to keep the phone on you correct. And since it was addressed to you, you didn’t feel too bad about opening the phone again. You swiped open the text and tried not to scroll anywhere higher into their previous chats.

-          Sunshine: To Miss Nurse. if you see this, please take good care of our Hyung. And if he gives you any trouble, tell him I said to behave. RM should be almost there. He tends to speed.  

               There were a couple silly emojis next to it that made you smile. Surely, they can’t be bad people if this is how they communicate. They must be close friends. Though, you still wondered how they had gotten the director to do all this. Maybe there was someone else doing all of this? You shook your head and typed a quick message back, so not to have them worry.

-          I’ll take good care of him. That’s my job.

You really hoped Agust didn’t mind you messing with his phone. Though, you figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. There was no response which made you think that it was all he needed at the time. Gazing at the clock on the phone, you had wasted thirty minutes in the room so far. You thought of your backpack in the locker room a few floors down and some of your things at your stations that you could pass the time with. Since Agust was secure here, you thought it may be a good idea to gather some things to help you waste time until this RM shows up. It was unlikely that Agust was going to wake up yet, and you could be fast so he wouldn’t be alone for long. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and rose from the chair, heading for the door. You cast one more look at the still figure in the bed before dimming the lights and pulled the door shut behind you.

               You set off at a brisk pace for the elevator and took it down a few levels to where the staff locker room was kept. You raced in, pulled your bag from your locker, and left before anyone noticed you. You were sure since the director had put the whole hospital on alert that everyone was making rounds to keep eyes everywhere. You hoped grabbing your stuff from your station was just as easy; you weren’t sure about how to explain why you had suddenly deserted your station. Amber wasn’t there but you could hear her and Jax talking loudly from a back room. You wanted to talk to your best friend, to help ease some nerves and have her tell you exactly what you needed to hear. But you didn’t want to wait around or take her away from her new workload. You pulled open the drawer where you kept some personal items, incase of slower work days, and shoved them into your bag. You froze when your fingers hit against something that you knew, instantly, should not be in your bag. Peering into the opening, your eyes locked onto a metallic, black, studded object that you had seen earlier that morning.  

              The gun Agust had placed in your hand.

             How did that get in there? You didn’t remember grabbing it unless it had happened in the chaos of the EMTs and police rushing to assess the situation. Well, if you weren’t already anxious, this just made it worse. Let’s just add this to the ever-growing list of stupid things I’ve done today, you berated yourself. You brought a potentially loaded gun into a hospital. You needed to get back up to the room and get this out of your possession. Maybe when this RM got there, he could take it from you. You pulled the bag shut and slugged it over your shoulder, trying hard not to think about it.

            You moved away from the desk and down the hall towards the elevator. But as you stepped into the silent hall with all the doors closed, one was not closed as it had been when you left; the room where Agust had been. And there was someone looking inside. There was a man, tall and stocky, and dressed in a simple navy uniform. He wasn’t a part of the hospital staff and you didn’t think he was there to clean the room with the lights still off. Trying to stay as unnoticed as you could, you took longer strides towards the end. As you passed behind him, you peered beyond him into the pitch blackness of the room to just make out another figure lurking there. He wasn’t dressed in the same way as the man in the door. He was in darker colors that you couldn’t make out and wore what looked like a fedora on his head. What caught your attention as you passed, was the small peek of icy, blue hairs that were just visible on the side. A deep grumble that sounded from the room made your breath catch in your throat, and made you stop in your tracks. It sounded so familiar to the sadistic voice from this morning. The man with the cane had gotten into the hospital?! How, they upped security measures, hadn’t they? Maybe it was your imagination playing with you with all the stress. Not wanting to stick around to figure out if you were right, you tried to get away before they had noticed you.

            But, sadly, you weren’t that lucky.

           “Excuse me, nurse. Perhaps you can help me.”

           You felt your whole body stiffen as the voice was all to clearly the one that had stalked you from beyond the counter. The voice that dripped with crazed malice and venom as he called out for Agust, that had taunted and tried to lure him out. The voice that you were sure would haunt your dreams. It was the man with the cane, though he didn’t have it now. As you turned, he looked nothing like the half-crazed man yelling and destroying things around him. He looked almost normal, save for the fake smile he had plastered across his lips. He was no longer dressed in the light blue suit and fur coat you had caught a glimpse behind the counter, but in a simple dark blazer and trousers. The man who lingered in the doorway had come to stand next to him as they walked up to you, dressed in a police uniform. His uniform cap was pulled low to obscure his face, though you could see bruising and swelling through the shadows. Both of them gave a slight bow to you.

           “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Taop, this is officer Chen. We are here following up on a patient that was supposed to be brought here. I’ve been looking everywhere, but no one has an answer for me whether he is here or not. And I haven’t seen a single worker on this floor.”

           He had never seen you at the scene so you knew he didn’t recognize you, or could see that you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. That would help you, you decided. You took a deep breath and tried to hide the fear and nervousness. Just act normal. Try to stall until someone comes around.

           “Sorry, officer, we’re a bit understaffed as it is. What can I help you with?”

           “I’m looking for a patient that was brought here. Gunshot victim, a young man, brought in this morning?”

           “Can you be a bit more specific? We are a hospital. Do you know how many young men we have come in here with some kind of bullet wound? I had six this month.”

           You saw the smile slip and irritation rise in those cold eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to his polite composure. “This one would have come in this morning. There was a shooting downtown. He would have had multiple gunshot wounds. One nurse said he was brought in by ambulance this morning, but then another said that they found no record of him. And the last person I talked to sent me here. Please, this is very important.”

           “Can I see your badge, sir?” He looked completely off guard by the question. You, also, seemed confused. It had just jumped out of your mouth before you realized it. But it seemed like the right thing to ask. You continued, “There’s been a threat made to the hospital, you see, and I need to make sure that everything is in order. I would get in trouble if I gave such information about any patient to an imposter.”

           You could see the wheels in his head turning. But you didn’t expect him to nod his head, understandingly, and reach into his pocket to hand you a leather, bifold wallet. Was this psycho really a police officer? How could someone so vile be in law enforcement? You thought back to what little memories of your father that you had lingering in the back of your mind and couldn’t begin to imagine him doing anything like what this man had done, no matter how bad of a criminal they were. Before you could think, your body seemed to act on it’s own again and opened the wallet and your eyes started to dance across the metal shield. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for at first. Until your eyes caught it and something clicked in your mind. It was a fake, but an exceptionally good fake. Anyone else would have just taken it at face value but something in your mind flashed and screamed that this was a fake like the smile still on the ‘inspector’s’ face. In the reaches of your memory, you remembered running your fingers over your father’s badge, memorizing every detail. And you still did that when you were stressed out; you still had his badge and it was currently in the front pocket of your bag. And you seemed to recall your father teaching you how to identify a real badge from others.

           A sudden anger took hold of you that seemed to spur on some brave part of you. You closed the wallet and handed it back to him, keeping your face neutral to hide that you were even more sure of his act. Maybe it was the dishonor to officers like your father, or that he was trying to get to the boy you had risked a lot to save. And your hard work was not going to waste. “I’m sorry officer. But like I said, we have a few patients that could fit your description. None on this floor at all. And if the other nurses said they have no record of him, I’m not sure what I can do for you. Besides that, if we did have a patient come in with multiple gunshot wounds, I imagine that they’d need extensive surgery and wouldn’t be conscious to answer any questions you could have. And with no guardian to act in their place until they are awake to consent to a line of questioning about a traumatic experience, I can’t let you go any further. You should know that, Officer.”

           The smile was wiped from the man’s face. The uniformed man’s eyes got wide at your declaration and they shifted towards his leader in panic. Taop, or whatever his real name was, straightened up and took a step towards you. He towered over you and the energy radiating from him would have intimidated you into submission. Just like with your ex. But you needed to protect Agust. In any case, all you needed to do was scream and someone would be alerted. There wasn’t much this asshole could accomplish without being found out. But he continued to advance until he backed you up against the wall. Even still, you never broke eye contact with him.

           “I don’t think you understand the situation of this, little girl,” he said, rage tittering on the edge of his voice. “There are some really dangerous people and it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfires. It’s in your best interest to answer my questions and tell me what I need to know.”

           “Then bring a warrant,” you challenged.

           His hand collided with the wall next to your head, making you jump. His face was so close to yours now, and there was the crazed man you remembered from this morning. Your heart was in your ears. He, suddenly, took a deep inhale then another before tilting his head to the side. “What a brave little girl. Tell me, where were you this morning? Something tells me you may be exactly who I need to talk to.”

           “Hey, back off her!”

           Both you and the man turned to look down the hall towards the elevator towards the source of the deep voice that had interrupted the line of questioning. The doors of the elevator were opened and from them stepped a young man with platinum white hair. His eyes were haunting and strong, like a dragon woken from his peace. He was exceptionally tall, taking long strides towards the scene. You couldn’t help but let your eyes take in the man who was coming to your rescue. Dressed in a dark trouser and a white buttoned up shirt gave him a classic handsomeness, and a long black coat with a hood drawn up that accentuated his height. As he approached, he slid the hood down and swiped his hand up to push the stray white hairs from his face. If you weren’t terrified, you would have appreciated how handsome he was. You glanced back at the man caging you; his body tensed as the newcomer walked up but his face never showed.

           He let out a sigh and a small smile reappeared, but it was not the same he had tried to charm you with. It was one of arrogance.  “Ah, Mr. Kim,” the inspector said, not moving from his position, “how nice of you to drop in.”

          “You’ve got some nerve,” the handsome newcomer said, his tone low and smooth. 

          “What for? Being too formal? Do you not like me using your surname? I’m not sure which name you prefer now; you change names so often, it’s hard to keep up after all this time.”

          “You’re one to talk. What name are you going by now, officer? Here to investigate a fraud? Or are you here to put yourself into more trouble?”

          “Such a negative attitude. Officer Chen and I are here on official business,” the detective flashed his badge at the so named Mr. Kim. “And this nice young lady was willing to help me out with some information. Isn’t that right, Little Girl?”

          “It sure doesn’t look that way coming from the elevator. I think you need to take a step back,” Mr. Kim ordered with a strong but suggestive tone that made you question what kind of power someone as young looking as him could possess.

          The fake detective made no sign that he was planning on heeding the newcomer’s words to move from your personal space. His eyes shifted from Mr. Kim back to you. His stare bore into you sharper than claws and made your breath catch. You weren’t sure if he was trying to scare you into agreeing with him or just threaten you. But Mr. Kim was having none of that; he gave the older man’s shoulder a hard shove and wedged himself in the space between you to keep you away from the other man. Mr. Kim reached a hand behind him and placed it on your arm, to keep you secure behind him and to give you some reassurance that he was not going to hurt you. You couldn’t help yourself, as you fisted your hands into the back of his coat and peered around his massive frame.

          “You always have to play savior, don’t you Rapmon?” The way he had said the name made it seem like he was trying to strike a nerve in Mr. Kim. But the other man gave no sign that he was bothered. “You make it seem like I was doing something unseemly to her. You and your broken boy scouts always turn things difficult. Speaking of, where are the others? Maybe they could answer some questions for me. There’s one in particular I’m interested in seeing. I’m checking up on a victim from a shooting downtown. Just making sure he’s doing alright.”

          “You’re really committed to this bit, aren’t you Choi? Oh, sorry- what name are you going by today? It’s so hard to keep track, isn’t that what you said?” Mr. Kim tilted his head to the side, eyes twinkling with a mischievous shine.

          “What a nuisance you are. I’m just trying to get information to make sure things go well. Though come to think of it, your boys may not know much. Word was that the victim was all alone. Left all by themselves, bleeding and hurt in such a dangerous situation. What kind of friends would let someone knowingly go into that situation alone? Now, I’d really like to finish my conversation with the little lady, Rapmon.” When Choi, as you figured his name actually was, took a step towards you, Mr. Kim moved the both of you to keep you behind him and further away from the other. “Well, since you seem hellbent on keeping me from doing something so simple, I could always ask you. Though to be honest, your being here may have answered my questions.”

          “My being here answers nothing,” Mr. Kim challenged. “Unlike you, I am here to do good for the community. And it’s a good thing I came by when I did. You’re already on thin ice after all the trouble you’ve caused. Imagine what would happen if you caused any problems while on Hallowed Ground. If you were to hurt anyone staying or working here, you would have more than my family looking for you. The rest of the Families would be looking to teach you a lesson. Imagine what most of them will think when they hear about the deceit you pulled this morning. After what I witnessed, you can be sure I’ll have eyes monitoring this place. You will not go against the Accords.”

          “Don’t you lecture me about the Accords, you psycho. I’ve been around just as long as they have and lived them. I taught them to you.”

          “And yet, you only follow them when they suit you. Just like your leader and his before him. But things are different now. They are gone, and your hold is slipping. I have enough pull now to ensure Accords are followed. And if you want to make a further spectacle of yourself, I’ll gladly show you I’m not that kid anymore that you ordered around. You saw what my boys can do when pushed. Try me.”

          Choi started to laugh, eyes shining in disbelief at the younger bossing him around. As you peered around Mr. Kim’s frame, you saw him go to say something to officer Chen, but couldn’t form the word. He raised his hand towards the white-haired man, but let it drop with a growl. Whatever look was set upon the elder made him rethink his next move. He settled for raising his hands in a surrender and jerking his head towards his companion to tell him they were leaving. It surprised you that he was giving up so easily after how he had acted towards you. You weren’t sure what Mr. Kim meant by accords and families, but it was more than obvious that it meant something to them. Glancing up at your protector, his face remained locked in the same stern and serious mask he had when he had appeared. His eyes, perfectly lined and accentuated with makeup that only made him more intriguing, followed the pair as they turned down the hall.

          But before they could get too far, Choi stopped. He turned enough to gaze at the two of you over his shoulder, the dark and manic gleam from that morning flashing like a warning sign. He chuckled before his teasing and taunting voice that had called out to Agust filled the hall like glass shattering. “Look at how far our little maniac has come. Really living up to the title of Mad Leader, aren’t you? He thinks he’s so big and strong that he can just order me around and act like a knight in shining armor to the weak. The Mad Leader’s trying so hard to put up a front, to hide who he is, to hide the other side of the looking glass. But lest he forget, I know things he wouldn’t want others to know. And I seem to recall,” Choi turned fully around and took a full stride back towards Mr. Kim, “you had an issue with places like this. You don’t enjoy being here. Are you falling down the rabbit hole? You even have an Alice this time it would seem. So tell me, Mad Leader, are the walls closing in on you yet? Are you feeling anxious?”

          You could feel Mr. Kim tense up at the name ‘Mad Leader’ each time Choi said it. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He gave you a polite push away from him before fixing Choi with a glare that made officer Chen startle. You could almost feel the air change as he stepped up to be nose to nose with the thug.

          “Since you can’t seem to remember my name, asshole, let me spell it out for you. It’s RM, R to the M. And I’m a motherfucking monster. Keep pushing me. I dare you. You hurt one of my boys. You better pray that he makes it out of all this ok. Or you’ll see just how ‘mad’ I can get.”

          Chen seemed to realize that something bad was building as he took hold of his superior and pulled him away from RM, newly identified. Choi kept the taunting smile spread across his lips as he allowed Chen to lead him away. Before he got too far, he looked over at you and gave a nod, “We’ll be in touch, Little Girl.” And then he disappeared from the floor, leaving you in the presence of RM. You can’t say you had expected this person to belong to the voice on the other end of the phone, but it would seem like that was the theme of the day. The tall man took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his white hair before turning back to you. The serious mask he had worn had slipped away and was more approachable. He straightened his clothes before returning to your side.

          “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, “But he shouldn’t be back. He talks a good game but he knows when he’s out done. Did he hurt you?”

          You shook your head. “I can’t believe he got in. The hospital is on lock down.”

          “Well, he’s been around a while. He has his ways. Now that he’s gone, I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for a nurse called Y/N.” You locked eyes with him and gave him a nod of affirmation. He gave you a smile, showing off a pair of dimples in his cheeks that made him much more innocent and sweeter than the man who had gone nose to nose with the monstrous thug. “That’s a coincidence. Nice to meet you. Can you show me where to go?”

          “Prove that you’re who you say you are,” you said, taking a step away from him. Despite that you were sure he was the one you had talked to, it seemed like nothing was safe. He looked at you for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone before letting his finger glide across the screen. A moment later, Agust phone sounded off in your pocket. He glanced over at you with a bemused look as you pulled the phone out and saw the screen lit up with a notification.

-          God of Destruction: It’s me.

          “Sorry,” you said, feeling embarrassed by your sudden suspicion, “but after that guy flashed a fake police badge at me, I just wanted to be sure. Thank you for coming and for helping me. Are you Agust’s brother or a friend?”

          RM’s eyes narrowed when he heard you say Agust and gave you a strange look. His eyes seemed to dance about you, as if he was trying to figure something out. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared and he smiled again. “We usually call him Suga. Only people who don’t like him call him Agust. I don’t think he’d want you calling him that. Can we go see him now? We’ve been worried about him.” You nodded and motioned him to follow you back to the elevator. As you waited for the doors to reopen, he leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hyung you had his phone.”

          “What? Does he have some embarrassing things on here,” you joked.

          “Maybe,” came the reply and heard RM chuckle as he allowed you to step into the elevator.

          You hit the button for the floor that they moved Agu- Suga to, the doors slid shut, and the lift jolted to a start. As the sound of the mechanisms filled the space, you caught a glimpse of the tall man flinch. It seemed odd, seeing as he had just faced off against the most frightening person you had ever seen. The taunting words he had said to RM before leaving came to mind, about not liking it in a hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have bad experiences related to hospitals, so you tried to brush it off. Once you had made it to the secure floor, you led him down the hall. You explained that the floor was only accessible to a few people and how they had followed the directions as specified to the director. The entire time, RM listened very intently, eyes never leaving you. He was the picture of professionalism and sincerity. You swiped the two of you into the ward, and he held the door open for you as you led him down the hall to the room. As you neared the room, you wondered if you were going to survive the present of two very handsome men. Hopefully, the rest of his friends that you heard over the phone were somewhat average.

          As you both entered the room, RM came to a stop in the threshold of the door, his eyes staring at the bed. You could see the worry and panic that you had heard over the phone slip across his face. You reached out and touched his arm. He looked at you with an almost innocent gaze, like he was questioning if it was alright to get closer. You gave him a nod and he was beside his friend in a flash. He looked as if he was debating to reach out to Suga, as if he were made of glass, but settled for taking hold of his hand. RM let out a breath and looked relieved to have finally seen his friend. From your place at the edge of the room, you could see how much one meant to the other and all worries about them being as bad as Choi disappeared.

          “Is he going to be ok? What did they do to him,” RM asked, never taking his eyes off his companion.

          “Dr. Na took good care of him,” you said, reaching for the file at the end of the bed. “He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and on his left side. The gunshot wound on his side appeared to be at close range and the bullet went through. Thankfully, there wasn’t much damage done. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, but Dr. Na was able to remove it and mend up some of the damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but he should have full range of motion after some rest. He, also, has some bruised ribs and a slight concussion. Along with bruising and defensive wounds pretty much everywhere. He, also, lost a lot of blood. He’s in the middle of a transfusion now. But he is responding well to everything and we believe he should be waking up soon. With enough care, patience, and support, he should make a full recovery in no time. Which is amazing; when I found him, I was worried with how much blood he had lost that he may have had a harder road to recovery.”

          RM flicked his eyes over to you. “You found him?”

          “They must not have told you. I was on my way to work when I heard the gunshots. I was the first to find him and get him to safety.”

          RM looked like he wanted to ask more questions, when a soft groan came from the bed and drew the attention. Suga took in a deep breath and his body shifted as if fighting to wake and identify the voices. After a tense moment, his body relaxed and his eyes opened slightly. From the edge of the bed, you could see the glazed and shiny effects of the medication still trying to hold him in the state of unconsciousness, and realized he may not fully be aware of what is happening. But you were sure the presence of RM had drawn him out enough to give them a sign that he was okay. RM called out to his hyung softly, drawing Suga’s attention as he gazed about the room.

          “Hyung, hey, can you hear me?”

          Suga’s eyes fully landed on RM. It seemed as if he was fighting his way to recognition before he gave a small, drugged smile back. “Joon,” his voice sounded exhausted and stained.

          RM laughed. “Yeah, Hyung, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe.”

          “Joonie, I think I’m dead. I saw an angel.”

          The whitehaired man reached out and ran his fingers, gently, through his friend’s hair. “No, Hyung, you’re only tired. That bastard messed you up but you’re gonna be alright now. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The boys and I will be here when you wake up.”

          “Oh,” Suga said, almost sounding disappointed as the drugs started to drag him back to oblivion, “too bad. It was a pretty angel. Prettier than Jiminie and Hyungie combined. But don’t tell them I said that.” And just as fast as he woke, Suga went silent and still again.

[traincat]

if you dont mind i would love to hear your thoughts on how and why peter seems to be more fulfilled by lower paying jobs (i.e photography, teaching) rather than by high paying jobs in STEM

(Sorry for the wait, anon! I did get this first ask, as you can see, it’s just that sometimes I tend to hoard asks that I want to give long in-depth answers to and then they get buried.)

So I think to best answer this the first thing we have to do is look at Peter’s 616 employment history -- what jobs he’s had when and for approximately how long. So here we have a more or less definitive list -- I may have skipped over a few minor jobs that aren’t important in the long run of the character history, but for the most part this is accurate. For the sake of brevity I am not going to count things he’s done as Spider-Man that have earned him money, like a brief bodyguard stint or his occasional time with the Avengers, because this is really more about his identity as Peter Parker and how his civilian employment plays into his life as Spider-Man than about his life as Spider-Man.

Works for the Daily Bugle on and off, through a variety of positions from part time to salaried, from the age of 15 onwards. Primarily a photographer. How good of a photographer Peter actually is varies from writer to writer, but he remains unmatched in his ability to get certain shots ranging from ones of Spider-Man (duh) to particularly high risk environments (different duh). He also briefly worked for rival newspaper the Daily Globe, the Bugle’s main competitor. His position as a full time newspaper photographer is his most well known (and most consistent) job.

A TA in grad school at Empire State University. At this point in time he labeled himself as having “the wrong temperament” for teaching -- and I would personally say I think his stints teaching college are much less engaging than high school.

Published author. His book, Webs, a collection of his Spider-Man photography, was a major bestseller that sent him on a book tour around the country. I hesitated sticking this on here because it’s very tied into his work with the Bugle -- and he was still working for the Bugle when the book was published -- but I figured it was worth including for the novelty of the fact that Peter’s technically a best selling author/artist.

Peter worked as a scientist at Galannan Alternative Research for Immunization Development (GARID) in Portland after his clone Ben Reilly took over the identity of Spider-Man. Although often overlooked in discussions of Peter’s job history, I think his stint at GARID is important in part because it illustrates how much of Peter’s time being Spider-Man took up and how a job with flexible hours was necessary for that balancing act. When he was working at GARID, Peter wasn’t Spider-Man, so it wasn’t difficult for him to keep a position at a laboratory. 

I mean granted the GARID job didn’t last long and there was sort of a whole big mutated monster case going on with it but you know. Anyway he pretty quickly moved back to New York and started working for the Bugle again.

Peter’s next major job at a lab comes in another period where he’s supposed to have quit being Spider-Man. (Which he did, very temporarily, and then he very much didn’t. Anyway, you’re seeing the pattern here.) He briefly worked at Tricorp, a private brain trust. This is a really short-lived position, even as Peter’s science gigs go, because -- Spider-Man.

At this point things get dicey employment-wise as Peter heads into a weird period of canon where Mary Jane was presumed dead. She wasn’t! But everyone thought she was. It was weird. When MJ came back (and promptly left for LA, not that I blame her), Peter exited this period of limbo by becoming a science teacher at his old school, Midtown High. This is the main career, beside news photography, that I think he really shines in.

Civil War/One More Day/Brand New Day hit and completely tank the direction of Spider-Man history. Peter’s marriage is erased by the devil and also he’s not a high school teacher anymore, for some reason, even though nobody remembers he’s Spider-Man anymore which is the reason he initially lost the Midtown High job. Make it make sense. Anyway, in Marvel’s desperate scramble to take Spider-Man back to the unmarried basics, as if they even got new readers that way, Peter returned to photography. When Dexter Bennett bought the Bugle out from under JJJ while JJJ was sick, Peter began working for the newly minted “DB” as a tabloid photographer. It wasn’t great.

He also briefly at some point in here worked at a comic book store for like five minutes. Mostly he complained about people who read comic books and made jokes about how he doesn’t get along with the X-Men. 

Under Slott’s run, Peter began working at Horizon Labs. Slott had a pretty major problem with Peter’s genius not being “recognized enough” and constantly had him inventing new things, showing off, etc. 

Horizon Lab became Parker Industries under Otto Octavius when he bodyjacked Peter during Superior Spider-Man and made himself CEO. When Peter got his body back, he was still CEO. It was bad but Peter did tank the company on purpose so that Otto and also nazis couldn’t get their hands on it, which was sort of fun. 

Peter went back to work for the Bugle, but as their science editor, because Slott was still in charge and there was some weird commentary about photography not being an adult job. Which I think is pretty weird in a medium that’s very dependent on visual art. But okay.

Then Peter got fired because he was busted for plagiarism of Otto Octavius’ work... that Otto did himself... while he was in Peter’s body... and Peter couldn’t reveal this because then he’d have to explain... and maybe I hate comics. 

In MC2 he becomes a forensic scientist! I really like this for him actually. I think it combines his interests and experiences in a very thoughtful way. But I do want to note it’s after a Spider-Man career ending injury, so again there’s not a real conflict there between his work as Spider-Man and a career.

Peter I think is an especially interesting case in how his character ties into his employment history because one of the first things he does in his story is figure out how to make money, and he does this because the Parkers don’t have any. If Ben and May were comfortable -- even comfortable enough that their teenaged nephew was unaware of financial pressures -- Spider-Man’s story would be completely different. But Peter immediately feels he pressure to use his new powers to earn money, at first with brute strength. And what he says he’s going to do with his earnings is that he’s going to take care of Ben and May:

(Amazing Fantasy #15) So the concept of Peter as someone who is very aware of financial pressure and who is pretty explicitly linking money to support is present from the absolute beginning. But at the same time, there’s a kind of selfishness presented in him here -- he’s only going to take care of Ben and May. They’re the only ones he cares about here, because as he’s stated they’re the only ones who have ever “been kind” to him. Peter at the beginning of his story is very rooted in his anger and his bitterness, and it takes him losing Uncle Ben -- because it wasn’t Peter’s “job” to stop the burglar -- to get him to the point where he starts to be able to see beyond that.

Ben’s death also heightens the Parker’s financial pressures -- Ben is the primary earner in the household. (Aunt May in the original context of the early 1960s was most likely a homemaker, and as an older woman especially she wouldn’t be expected to have a job. But even moving the timescale up to a point where she would be expected as a woman to hold down a job, it’s important to note that early in Spider-Man canon Aunt May is depicted as being in very poor physical health.) While it’s not clear in the initial Spider-Man stories what Ben did, it’s clear that with his death whatever income the Parkers had coming in abruptly stops:

(ASM #1) This sets in concrete one of the central conflicts Peter and May have -- both of them lie to protect the other. Peter feigns being an ordinary boy in order to protect May from the stress of his secret life as Spider-Man, worried that she wouldn’t be strong enough to handle the danger he regularly puts himself in. But this is a learned behavior, and here we see that he most likely learned it from May: she doesn’t want him to worry about the very deep financial troubles they’re obviously in, so she pawns her jewelry, and she stresses to him the importance of his education. Again I have to note that there are some pretty significant social differences between the 1960s and today in regards to this story -- Betty Brant, for example, notes that she had to drop out of school and become a secretary because of her own family’s financial problems, something she’s ashamed of. So early Spider-Man is very rooted in money, class, education, and how those things intersect. I think it should be noted that the only early Spider-Man characters who are financially well-off are Liz, Gwen, and Harry. (We don’t know anything about Flash’s financial situation in early Spider-Man comics but retroactively we know his family situation is not well-off.) In high school, Liz’s father is a bigshot who owns a dining club, but later on the Allans experience financial hardship with Liz quite literally being on the streets when Peter reunites with her when he’s in college. Harry’s father is a rich businessman, but from the beginning he’s depicted as emotionally negligent, caring more about money than spending time with his son:

(ASM #40) “After all... I had a business to care of! Money was the most important thing of all! I had to get rich! I needed wealth... for that was the key to power!” So right away you have this link between wealth, corruption, and negligence. Norman’s pursuit of wealth is his given reason for his neglect of Harry. Later on we’d learn that Norman’s father was also abusive and that that abuse formed Norman’s ideas about power and wealth. (Spider-Man! It’s about cycles of abuse!) There’s a very contrast between Norman’s attitudes here and the Parkers loving (but poor) household. Gwen is the only exception here -- she and her father are depicted as comfortable, most likely edging into wealthy, although on nowhere the level the Osborns have been elevated to. But compared to Peter, Flash, and Mary Jane especially -- all from poor households, with MJ and Flash’s fathers both being abusive -- Gwen’s home situation is the picture of stability, both in terms of economic status and in terms of her loving and very present father.

My goal in outlining all of this isn’t to say that Spider-Man’s message is definitively “money is bad” because I don’t think it is. I think as a series Spider-Man is very aware of the comfort that money can provide. But I think there is a frequent message about excess in Spider-Man -- excess power, excess wealth. As Norman says above, in his eyes, money is the key to power. With great power, comes great responsibility. In Norman hoarding and abusing his wealth, he abuses his power. If he provides for Harry, it is solely through money -- there is no love or devotion in Norman’s money-focused world. And I think that’s important when you look at where Peter starts in his story, before Uncle Ben’s death. He’s going to use his powers to make a lot of money and he’s going to provide for Ben and May but he’s not going to care about the world outside of that. I think one of the interesting things about Peter -- and this is where Slott’s run especially fails the character -- is that he’s not interesting in getting rich. He’d like to be comfortable, for sure -- he’d like to have enough money to not have worry about it, to not have the need to hustle impede what he can do as Spider-Man, to be able to take care of his family. (And there’s some machismo stuff linked in here for him too -- in the early days of their marriage the fact that Mary Jane earns much more than him is something he struggles with.) But he doesn’t care about being rich. He doesn’t care about the money; he cares about the support that the money would bring. 

That feels like a simple statement but I think it’s actually a really big distinction, especially when you’re analyzing a character. And I think it’s because Peter understands that value that it makes him so empathetic to others who have financial struggles. One of my favorite short self-contained Spider-Man stories is called Windfall, from Marvel Fanfare #42, where a mixup with a check embroils Peter in the personal affairs of a bank teller, a young single mother who is fired from her job ultimately because she refused the advances of her boss. Peter gets her her job back -- through blackmailing the boss for his other sexual affairs, which some people might think is immoral of him, but I think really speaks to Peter’s understanding of how the greater world works, and what he’s prepared to do to get bigger justice. But more importantly he uses his own money to pay the young woman’s rent, and he does it in a way where she never even knows it’s him. Because he understands her situation, the way someone who had grown up comfortable never could. And that understanding I think puts him a place where it’s more important for him to both keep that understanding and maintain that ability to act relatively freely, in the way that bigger, more prestigious positions in scientific fields might restrict him. There’s a reason he keeps getting fired from these scientific positions and it’s not that he can’t get them, because we can see from his employment history very clearly that he can. It’s because the freedom to act as Spider-Man and what he can do as Spider-Man is ultimately more important to him.

And while high school teacher is my number one favorite profession Peter has ever had, I think that his position as a newspaper photographer is also very important to the character’s history, in part because the Bugle is such a big part of his life and the connections he’s made but also because the Daily Bugle itself is important. I think it’s interesting to note that two of the biggest superheroes of all time from both of the big companies -- Spider-Man from Marvel and Superman from DC -- have had long running journalism jobs, Peter as a photographer and Clark as a reporter. I don’t think I really have to go into a whole thing about how good journalists are so important and why it matters that we have these incredibly famous mythic figures that are positioned in the roll of journalists specifically. But I do think it is important to Peter that he’s put in that position as someone who cares about uncovering the truth. So ultimately I think what I mean when I say Peter is more fulfilled by his jobs as a photojournalist and as a high school teacher than by his comparatively more high paying stints working as a scientist in a lab is that Peter gets the most fulfillment out of careers where he can actively see, day by day, that what he’s doing is helping people, and that it’s a very direct line from him to the people he’s helping. His efforts can’t be twisted, they can’t be used for other purposes the way they can within a larger organization. He has a line of control in what he can do to help other people. It’s like how Spider-Man functions best as a street level hero: what he does best is saving and helping individual people, on a case by case basis. And you can turn around and demonstrate that in his civilian life best in jobs where he gets to directly interact with people. And ultimately to Peter making that difference is more important than a better salary.

(Marvel Knights Spider-Man #9)