#idk why i never thought about it this way

[wonderjanga]

Billy’s Ideal Hero

Billy has had so so so many years to think about being the ideal hero. He’s finally come to the conclusion as to what being the ideal hero is.

It’s being super mysterious and suave. Mary thought him that last word.

Thankfully, he came to this conclusion before he started fully interacting with the public so no one needs to know about his normal, not hero-like self.

Billy didn’t realize how much of an impact this persona had on history and other heroes in general. The first time he found this out was, after the time bubble popped, when he was in DC because he needed to talk with some government people. On his way back to Fawcett, before he could leave the city, he spotted some kids bullying another, and he swiftly put a stop to it.

Marvel: *lands behind them with a smile* “I think it’d be wise for you boys to stop.”

Bullies: *turn and scream before running off*

Marvel: “Now then, are you alright?” *picks up some books on the ground*

Kid: *gobsmacked and takes the books back*

Marvel: *raises a brow but starts to float off the ground so he can fly off again*

Kid: “WAIT! WAIT! Are you the real deal?”

Marvel: “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kid: “That’s… Awesome!”

The kid started yapping and yapping about something Billy didn’t entirely understand. The kid then shifted his books around so he could get to a history textbook.

Kid: *flips to a page* “This is you, right? You said this!” *shows it to Billy*

it was a black and white picture of him, making a speech in front of a crowd.

“It is a heroes job to protect anyone they can. Weak or strong, black or white, man or woman. It should not ever matter. If it does, you were simply never a hero in the first place.”

— Captain Marvel, circa 1949

It took every bone in Marvel’s body to not scrunch his face and look away and embarrassment because WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S IN THE TEXTBOOKS?! But alas, he has to remain that cool mysterious disposition.

The second time he realized the impact of this persona was when he was also in another city. Metropolis. See, he’d wanted to talk to this so called “Superman” but before he could, a giant foreign aircraft made itself known. Naturally, he went through the proper proceedings of telling the aircraft to leave and that it was in a foreign airspace. Instead of leaving it shot at him. None of its weird doohickies worked though. How humans have developed… Anyways, that ended up with him luring the ship to the middle of nowhere. After all, he would never fight it in a city. He’d have to be an idiot to do that.

He took care of the ship itself in a minute, his lightning frying it. Then he took care of the invaders inside. Turns out they were from a different planet. He took care of them in a couple minutes. In the end, he was covered in alien guts and picking it out of his suit and gloves.

After Marvel steps out of the ship…

Supes: *standing there confused as to why the aliens weren’t attacking and suddenly sees Marvel and stares*

Marvel: *stares back and stops picking alien intestine out of the hood of his cape* (idk I just like it whenever he has a hood on his cape. Think of the injustice version of him if you don’t know what I mean)

*silence*

Marvel: “I presume you’re Superman?” *steps forward, ignoring that he’s covered in blood because that wouldn’t be very mysterious or suave of him to acknowledge*

Supes: “Uh…” *looks behind Marvel and sees a bunch of dead aliens* “Yes?”

Marvel: “Wonderful!” *moves in front of Clark, takes off a glove (Yes he also wears gloves because I really like his injustice costume if you ignore all the black and replace it with either red or white) and holds out a hand for a shake* “It’s amazing to meet a new hero, let alone one from outside of Fawcett.”

Supes: “Really? It’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir.” *shakes his hand*

And it really was, even if Clark kept looking between Marvel and the aliens because he hadn’t heard a single sound of pain from the ship. That either meant Marvel did it quickly or he did it quietly. Clark wasn’t sure which was better. It was still a shock to see a revered hero, a hero Clark actually idolized, look like the person responsible for a massacre.

The two talked though and Clark wasn’t picking up any homicidalness so…? They actually managed to get smoothies after the Captain cleaned himself up with magic. Clark didn’t even know how they ended up in a smoothie joint. It’s just the other hero was so- so- so suave and mysterious. It reminded Clark a wee inseey weesy bit of Bruce. (Billy would internally cheer upon realizing that his persona was working) The other hero was also extremely easy to talk to and actually liked a lot of things Clark did, like reporting!

it almost made the kryptonian forget about the fact he was pretty sure the other man massacred a bunch of aliens. Almost. He brought it up to Batman immediately after their little little hangout session.

[angelfic]

dc vs vampires!dick grayson x reader

warnings — mentions of death, weapons, blood, vampire dick duh. unedited as per usual my bad

a/n; vampire dick gets me going like no other so let me know if i should make this a series… a more fleshed out series or just more drabbles (does this count as a drabble?) idk im asking the audience

dc vs vampires!DICK GRAYSON who allows you to stay human, as a kindness.

you try your best to hide from him, camping out in different bunkers every few months all over blüdhaven with groups of other survivors. the resistance is slowly dwindling and you know of other groups littered around, hearing tales of how each of them are being turned, imprisoned or simply wiped out.

you know he’s sparing you and the people you’re with to play with your mind. he doesn’t truly care for them, and all he wants to do with you is own you like he does the rest of his followers.

you know this, because he comes to visit you in the dead of night when you’re alone.

“hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice as smooth as ever, but you listen intently for the dangerous edge that wasn’t there before.

he steps forward and your stomach swoops as it does every time you see the startling red of his eyes that seem to glow in the flickering light of your room. you instinctively grab the knife tucked away in the waistband of your pyjamas, unsheathing it and gripping it tightly as you raise it in front of him.

“stay back,” you warn, unable to say his name.

he glances down at your knife, and grins wolfishly, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. “hot,” he whispers, taking a step toward you unflinchingly. “you know i always did love seeing you with a weapon. never thought you’d be turning it on me though…”

he sighs deeply, as if suffering from temporary amnesia. you shake your head, slowly backing up. “you’re insane. you know exactly why. i just don’t understand why you don’t just kill me like you’ve done all the rest.”

dick’s smirk falters for a moment, but his confidence doesn’t waver. “kill you?” he echoes, advancing further. “no, no, i saved you. i could have turned you that night, but i didn’t. because i wanted you to choose, sweetheart.”

“choose?” you hiss, gripping your weapon tighter. “to become one of them? to join you in slaughtering humanity? the same humanity you once loved.”

his expression remains blank, and your heart clenches at the fact that he’s unaffected by your words. he doesn’t care because he physically can’t anymore.

“you’re thinking too small,” he says softly. “humanity was always heading in this direction… all i’ve done is speed it up. i can control it now. no more of the depravity we used to witness, we can be so much stronger. especially with you by my side.”

“yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “me at your side, watching you rule over everything like some kind of God?”

the next step he takes has you frozen. his presence was overwhelming and you’re paralysed by the way his gaze softens even though you know that every move is calculated. “i don’t want to be a God,” he murmurs, cold fingers reaching down to brush gently up your forearm, making you shiver. “i just want you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the chest and all you can do is stare at him. he’s terrifying, but so, so beautiful. you’re sickened by the thoughts running through your head and you screw your eyes shut.

dick takes the opportunity to reach up with his other hand to brush your hair away from your neck, leaning in to inhale deeply.

too late, you realise, his fangs are out as they’re hovering over your throat, threatening to break skin and allow your blood to flow onto his tongue. he always talks about how sweet you’d taste, how badly he wants to drink from you. you don’t bother stopping him — you couldn’t if you tried. surprisingly, he seems content with just staying there and you find your voice eventually.

“stop it,” you whisper, voice trembling. “stop trying to mess with me. i know who you are now and it isn’t the man i loved.”

dick lifts his head, not bothering to increase the distance between the two of you, allowing you to see the way his expression turns troubled. “i’m still me,” he mutters, careful not to let his fangs show as he pleads with you in the way he once did to earn your forgiveness. “i swear, that hasn’t changed.”

“you are not the man i loved,” you enunciate, tears stinging your eyes as you repeat your words to him like you do to yourself in the early hours of the morning when you can’t sleep.

dick’s expression darkens. he catches a stray tear with his finger and tilts his head. his voice is slightly colder now, more detached. “you still love me. i can feel it. but it’s alright, i’m a patient man.”

he drops a kiss to your cheek, where the tears threatened to flow before stepping backwards. “i’ll be back, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reassuring you as if you’ve begged him to stay.

and with that, he’s gone. disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had arrived.

you collapse to the ground, knife forgotten at your side. your heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

because this isn’t your dick grayson. you know deep down that your dick doesn’t have pale, ghostly skin that makes you flinch when he touches you. or fangs that glint menacingly when he talks.

but it’s a little hard to remember all those things when he looks at you with those eyes, that in the dimly lit bunker, look as lovingly at you as they used to.

a/n cont.; im gnawing at the gates of dick’s vampire manor begging to be let in so he can turn me… pick me, choose me, bite meeee🧛🏻🤍

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ just what you needed ; pb5

➪ summary: your winter break had a handful of friend drama that you were sure was just caused by your overthinking, but nonetheless, paige knows exactly what you need to be cheered up

➪ warnings: none !

➪ word count: 1.6k

➪ cupid's notes: idk what to say except i hope you enjoy !

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Being an introvert, making friends has always been hard for you. Which is why you were always content with the few friends you did have, having them was enough for you, you never needed anything more than them. 

Your friends proved to be a distraction from the fact that you had a hard time making friends in the first place, they made you seem like you were the most outgoing, extroverted person they had ever met, and they made you feel somewhat normal about it, specifically.

You had met Fiona earlier in the semester, she was a transfer student from Ohio who simply just wanted to be closer to home. The two of you had gotten along really well, bonding over similar interests and the random things you two had always seemed to find yourselves talking about. 

But recently, with being away from most of your friends due to winter break, your overthinking capabilities seemed to work overtime, reading into every single thing they did or didn’t do. You had always told yourself that that had been one of your biggest flaws and that that was the thing you needed to work on.

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, snapping back to the present where you were sitting in your dorm room reading a book. It was the first week back in Connecticut since break had ended, and you were settling in as well as you could have with how much your mind was reeling. 

Before you could send yourself down another spiral of self-deprecating thoughts, a knock on the door pulled your attention, slipping your bookmark into your book and placing it on your desk, making your way over to the door. 

You opened the door, you couldn’t have been more thankful to see who was standing on the other side of it. Paige was there, grocery bag and duffle bag in hand, and a wide smile on her lips, “Hey ma, how’s my favorite girl doing?”

You mustered up a small smile, leaning your head against the edge of the door as you stepped aside to let her in, “Could be worse, could be better.”

She was quick to step past you, throwing her duffle bag on the ground and setting the grocery bag on your bed. When she turned to face you again, her face instantly softened, you looked exhausted. “C’mere,” her voice murmured, opening her arms for you and watching you with a sharp gaze.

You couldn’t help how fast it took you to walk into her arms, wrapping your arms around her torso, grip tight. You buried your head into her chest, trying to stop the emotions that rushed through you from coming out. The tears that threatened to spill over were kept in my how tight you squeezed your eyes shut, determined not to let Paige find out what had happened, at least not yet. 

“Missed you.” Her voice was gentle as she spoke, something you were positive only you were accustomed to.

“Missed you more.”

You felt the vibrations of her light chuckle against your head, subconsciously tightening your arms around her in response. She pulled away anyway, moving to cup your face with her hands, leaning her forehead against yours. 

And for a few minutes, the two of you just stood like that. Paige takes in every detail of your face; your freckles, the slight bags under your eyes accompanied by the growing dark circles, the dimmed spark in your eyes, the lines on your forehead, the soft pink tint to your cheeks.

“So, what’s going on?”

Your eyes widened almost comically, only pulling away slightly to look her in the face, “What? Nothing wrong, what do you mean?”

You knew she saw right through your defensive demeanor, moving her hands down to yours, encircling your wrists, and rubbing small circles on the insides of them. She raised an eyebrow, her lips slightly downturned at your deflection, “I know you well enough to know that something is bothering you, y/n/n.”

The groan you let out echoed through your dorm, “I hate how well you know me.”

Paige smirked as she watched you bite your lip somewhat anxiously, intertwining her fingers with yours and bringing the other hand up to tilt your chin to look at her, “And I love how well I know you.” She cocked her head to the side slightly, looking you up and down before speaking again, “C’mon, spill it, ma.”

Once again, hesitancy cluttered your mind, stopping you from speaking. Maybe you should keep your thoughts to yourself, you have always been one to overshare and that includes your overthinking abilities. This could all just be a simple misunderstanding and you could be reading too much into it and- 

“Baby, talk to me. Please.” Paige’s slight pleading voice broke your trance, and you stared at her, looking into her eyes that shone with worry and protectiveness.

“It’s just friend drama… I guess.” You muttered, trying to take the simple route out of this conversation. But you should’ve known better when your girlfriend’s hand dropped to your waist to pull you closer.

Her frown grew at the short phrase, trying to get more out of you, “You sure that’s it?”

You sighed, fully prepared to know that this was going to be a much longer conversation than you had hoped for. You rested your forehead against her chest, closing your eyes as her hand came up to tangle in your head, scratching at your scalp as you spoke, “Technically I wasn’t lying, it is friend drama.”

“Must be more serious friend drama than what I’m used to hearing about, I take it?” Her chin rested on your head, continuing her previous actions. 

“Involves me.”

She hummed quietly, “I assumed that, ma. What happened?”

“Remember Fiona, the transfer student?”

You felt her nod, taking the motion as the cue to continue, “I introduced her to my friends and we were all having a good time and hanging out and whatnot. But recently, I just- I think she’s been ignoring me. I’m probably reading too much into this, it’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Thoughts of being a burden enveloped you, trying to back out of the conversation again. You always read too much into things, that’s what your parents had told you. Read too much into people’s actions and what they said, could never just settle on a simple meaning. 

“Don’t- don’t do that. Talk to me. I’m not going to judge you, I’m here for you, even if that means fighting your little realities you got going on up there.”

Her words earned a chuckle out of you, you could feel the tension in your shoulders ease and your mind became a little less overwhelmed. When you looked back up at her, she smiled at you, signaling for you to go on.

As you talked you could feel her grip on your hair tighten slightly when you would mention something particularly frustrating about the situation, or something that had upset you. You could feel the small circles Paige drew on your lower back with her thumb from when she had casually slipped her hand under your shirt to rest it there.

She listened intently to everything you said, keeping her fingers moving through your hair with the occasional head scratch. She didn’t speak, not until she was sure you were done talking and had exhausted yourself from the small rant you had gone on. 

You blinked slowly once you finished, letting out a small breath of relief, your brain felt less crowded and cluttered now, and all you could think about was cuddling up with Paige and letting her take care of you. 

With what little energy you had left, you looked up at her, catching her gaze immediately. You could see the way her face softened once her eyes locked on yours, giving you a soft smile, “How about we order some food and watch a movie?”

She always knew exactly what you needed, so you nodded, allowing her to lead you back to your bed as she handed you the grocery bag she had placed there earlier. When you opened the bag, you couldn’t help but grin at all of your favorite candy and your favorite drink she had in there. Looking over at her, you watched as she placed an order for what you could only assume was your guilty pleasure restaurant, her brow furrowed in concentration. 

You leaned over, kissing her cheek before settling into her side, navigating your TV to the streaming platform that had your favorite movie, missing the way her lips replicated your smile as she glanced at you. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The food was taking longer than you would like it to and you were all for letting it show, a pout on your face as you watched your favorite movie. And Paige, of course, was finding this amusing as always, laughing every time she would look over at you. 

“Baby stop pouting, it’ll be here soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

She rolled her eyes at your level of impatience, drawing you closer into her, arm wrapping around your waist to do so. She placed a kiss on the top of your head, she murmured, “You doing okay?”

“Better than before.” You replied, and it was the truth. While you weren’t completely back to your usual sarcastic self you were close to getting there and it was because of her and how she always seemed to know what you needed to feel better.

PB5 MASTERLIST ; WBB MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

It's been a while, idk if your still writing for RWBY but if you are can I ask for 5 ships reactions to Jaune getting a tattoo over his crotch reading "Property of" with their full names

I will likely always be writing for RWBY. It is what got me into actually writing and posting real content online, or at least the courage to finally start after dreaming to do it for years.

Since you didn't specify, the five RWBY girls I used were picked using a random spinner app with a list of all the RWBY girls.

Emerald Sustrai

Emerald stared wide eyed at the green text print on her (recently agreed upon) boyfriend, right on his pelvis, just above his crotch. When he said that he had a surprise for her and started undoing his buckle, she rolled her eyes at the cheesy as hell way to start some foreplay.

Not that she wasn't ready to go along with it. He had whipped up a great dinner for them tonight and she was quickly realizing that she loved a man that could cook.

She was not expecting to see him show off a tattoo. And not one with her name on it. "What do you think?"

She wasn't too sure what she thought about it, but definitely knew what she wanted to ask. "Wow... it looks... good. My emblem is a nice touch I guess. But ummm... why did you even get it?"

Jaune let go of the hem of his shirt that he'd been holding out of the way, partially covering the tattoo. "W-well... When we talked about our pasts a while ago... you said you never really had or owned anything for yourself." Emerald didn't need that being brought up again, it was awkward enough talking about it with him the first time. She quickly just agreed with a sharp nod, not wanting to deal with it all over again now. "Well... I thought now... you could at least own... me. That you'll always have me?"

Oh.

Oh damn...

He could have definitely tried to sound more confident when saying that... but damn if that line didn't do things to Emerald. Both making her cheeks flush and her heart race.

And also getting her very turned on.

"You are getting so much ass tonight."

"W-what?!"

Emerald sashayed her way over to her blushing dork, her ass swaying side to side. "Use your semblance on me. Then you're going to find out just how much that ink of yours is going to pay off."

Jaune's earlier surprise was quickly being replaced by excitement. But he was still a little confused, which persisted even as Emerald reached him and lifted up his shirt with one of her nimble hands. But he was still confused. "Why do you want me to use my semblance on you?"

Emerald lifted her knee up between his legs to gently rub his crotch. "Because I want to make sure I can last all night with you~"

"O-oh."

"Yup. Now, boost me up and dick me down you mushy goofball~."

Emerald jumped up and let herself be caught by Jaune, his hands gripping onto her ass through her shorts and giving them each plump cheek a squeeze. Emerald wrapped her legs around him and kissed him as deeply as she could before he carried her off to the nearest bedroom, his hands and her body starting to faintly glow white and green as the door shut behind them.

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

May Zedong

“W-what is that!?” May felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment when Jaune first started to lift up his shirt and pull his jeans down a bit. No matter how much she and him saw each other naked before, she still couldn't help but get bashful. However, when she saw the writing printed on his... very defined abs, her face went from warm to burning.

Jaune seemed to be catching some of her embarrassment since “W-well it’s a tattoo…”

May whined while she lifted up the collar of her jacket and the bottom of her beanie down, trying her best to hide her redding face from her boyfriend. "I know that! But why does it say that y-you're.... Why does it say THAT!?"

Jaune let his shirt drop, covering the tattoo again. "Well I-I heard about what those girls from Vacuo picking on you, and about what they said. And I just wanted to do something for you to make you feel better..."

"Why do you think this would make me feel better!?"

"B-because they said no one would... love you... and all that other stuff. W-well they're wrong! And this proves it! I-I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you with those bullies at the time, but I got this to show you that I'll always be there for you in the end."

Now that stunned May, so much so that the blood receded from her face quickly and her jaw went a little slack. She stopped trying to hide her face, and looked at Jaune's. While his cheeks were very red, his eyes met hers and she saw the determination in them, meaning every word he said.

"C-can I see it again?"

Without hesitation or any question, Jaune lifted the bottom of his hoodie up again to show her the tattoo. A goofy smile dawned on his lips again.

...

May slowly walked forwards to him. When she was close enough, she slowly started to trace the inked skin with her index finger. Then she placed her hand on his abdomen, her thumb still rubbing the image of a hat in the corner, a hat that was nearly identical to her own signature beanie. "I-I like that it has my beanie... it's a really nice touch."

"S-so you like it?"

May slowly nodded, letting out a low, "Mmm-hmm", confirming that she did indeed like her boyfriend's tattoo. And it was certainly no lie.

"Eeep!"

Nor was it a lie to say that the squeak that she let out when Jaune suddenly hugged her wasn't adorable.

Jaune spun her around twice before placing her feet back on the ground. "I'm happy you like May! I really hoped you would. I just wanted to show you that I'll always be yours... because I love you."

May hugged Jaune back for a moment, only to pull back and plant a kiss on his smiling lips before flashing a rarely seen bright smile. "...I love you too, Jaune."

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

Blake Belladonna

"B-Blake? Are you okay."

Jaune's worried tone and question fell deft on two sets of ears, not that he really needed an answer. For Blake was certainly not okay... Her increasingly heavy panting and dilated eyes were a clear indicator of that fact. She didn't even bother trying to hide it because she thought her response was very justified!

Her boyfriend decided he wanted to surprise her in her room after a lovely date, so after waiting a decent amount of time to let him 'get ready', she walked in on him laying shirtless on their bed, with one of her favorite books placed on his toned abdominal muscles. She rolled her eyes at him at first, but it was only when she playfully snatched the book off his stomach for them to get the most fun part of the night started did she realize what his real surprise was.

Her name, tattooed a few inches above his crotch. And clearly listing him as her property...

Dust and Brother gods alike... that was so freaking hot. It was something she had never known she needed to see up to this point. Something so simple, yet unlocking something deep within Blake's mind and body. Something primal... lustful. And now that she had seen it, she knew what she wanted next.

Jaune yelped as Blake literally pounced onto the bed, landing above him and silencing his surprised noise with a kiss. A deep kiss. A VERY deep kiss. Her tongue wrestling with his, and trading their saliva while doing so, absolutely caught Jaune by surprise.

And he was just as surprised when she pulled away, their tongues still extended since they had been mid-kiss.

Blake looked down at Jaune, panting and blushing heavily. "This means you're mine now, Jaune. And I plan to enjoy every part of you tonight~."

"O-okay."

Blake ground her hips back and forth against Jaune's, getting some pleasurable friction between them and both moaning as she went over her growing erection in his pants. "I'm starting on top tonight. Does that sound good?"

Blake grinned as Jaune nodded to her, placing his hands on her thighs to keep her where she was. She reached behind her and unzipped her top. She wanted to waste no more time getting on with a very fun night with her, now very much marked, man~.

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

Robyn Hill (was bit of a new challenge writing for her)

"I-I thought I should show you m-my support..."

“So you got… a tattoo?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Of my name!?

"...yes..." Jaune nodded, slowly lowering his hoodie and shirt back down to cover his belly button and the green ink below it again.

"But if you wanted to show support for me, why did you get it down there?!”

He winced the smallest bit as Robyn raised her voice at him a little. “W-well… you seemed kinda… j-jealous when all of those moms of the kids I was a crossing guard for were flirting with me at your rallies… despite me telling them I was taken!” Jaune added the last part quickly when he saw Robyn’s gaze narrow when he brought up those hussies…

“So I… thought that this would be nice and I-I wanted to show you that... well... you're the only one that gets to see this part of me..."

Robyn was very silent, standing with her arms crossed and staring at him with a raised eyebrow. She was honestly having a hard time believing that he had really done something like this. He had seemed like such an innocent goodie two shoes when she met him. But… he did suggest stealing an Atlesian airship to get to Mantle in the first place… AND had asked her out in the first place… honestly, all things considered...

Robyn smiled as she uncrossed her arms and slowly walked towards Jaune. "Well... I do like seeing my name printed out."

"You do? Awesome! I'm so glad. I was worried tha- Mmmmh!"

Jaune was cut off as Robyn quickly grabbed him by the top of his chestplate and pulled him towards her. Her lips captured his own in a passionate kiss. One she was very much in control of. She had her fun for a few seconds before pushing Jaune back so they could both take a breath.

Jaune also took the break in the kiss to give a goofy smile. “That… that was nice…”

Robyn chuckled to herself, her grip on Jaune not letting go. “Yes, it was~. Now… How about I get through this rally quickly and then we go somewhere private where I can show you how much I appreciate your support~? Somewhere I can admire that tattoo fully while I sit comfortably on that face of yours~? Does that sound like a good idea to you Mr. Strategist?”

“Y-yes! S-sounds great actually!”

Robyn licked her lips and grinned as her hand grabbing Jaune's chestplate glowed green.

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

Bleiss Gele

Bleiss was nearly drooling when she saw her darling lift up his shirt to show off those dust shredding abs of his. But when she saw what it was he exactly wanted to show her, she nearly fainted from pure excitement and blood loss from a nosebleed.

It was her name! Right below her darling’s defined abs! It was all she could ever have dreamed about and more! This was amazing! No more skanks or bimbos trying to steal her man! Or they could try, but he has proof of her claim now!

“Oh darling, it's wonderful!” Bleiss squealed in joy as she jumped into Jaune’s arms. Jaune, being quick to drop the bottom of his hoodie he was holding up, caught her easily with his arms around her. The only trouble he had holding her up was from how much she was kicking her legs in joy. Her giggling was also so infectious that Jaune couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

“I guess you like it, huh?” Jaune slowly lowered his girlfriend back to the ground, but still kept her close in a hug. Mainly because Bleiss was still trying to squeeze the air out of him.

“Like it?! I love it! You know me so well darling!” If it was possible, her hug on him got even tighter. “I love that you are happy to show me off as your future wife like that!” Bleiss ended her sentence by nuzzling her head into Jaune’s chest.

“Hehe… well… I’m glad you like it.”

“I really do! And it’s even better because we match now!”

“...what?”

Bleiss’ wide smile shifted into a knowing smirk as she let go of Jaune finally and stepped back a small distance. “Guess it’s time for my surprise now darling~!” She turned around and flicked up her skirt, revealing something that made Jaune’s eyes widen and his jaw drop.

On her right cheek was her own tattoo. One quite similar to the one that he had gotten for her. And the yellow ink reading out his name over the Arc family emblem was very noticeable on her pale rear. 

Bleiss looked over her shoulder at Jaune, smirking confidently. “What do ya think~?

Jaune couldn’t respond. His jaw was still slack and his eyes were wider than dinner plates. He was having trouble looking away from such a sight. But the lower half of his body was very telling instead.

And Bleiss was happy to accept that version of approval. But she wasn’t done there either. With a shake of her ass, she asked ‘innocently’, “Hey darling, want to see if we can make our ink touch~?”

I didn't really know which version of Bliess's last name, so I picked Gele as that makes the most sense of what she'd like to be called being the (literal) black sheep of the family. She'd prefer to go by her mother's name and Jaune would absolutely respect that.

[rieamena]

two plus two equals six

nerd!takuma ino & popular-ish!fem!reader

contains... both of you being absolute losers and incredibly embarrassing. that's about it.

word count: 9.4k (its been a while since i've written something this long...)

riea's comments: it's been a terrible couple of days but this idea really stayed in my head and i really had to act on it. idk if its one of my best works but i still like it! i will prove my spot as the mayor of takuma city!!!

technically, you weren't supposed to bother him. something about threatening a restraining order but a threat is really just empty words, amiright?

"hey…," you called out towards the man just two feet in front of you, as a result of you sneakily sliding into the seat across from him at the cafe table he sat at. your lips hung on that final syllable, really stretching out that "eyyy". "you're in my gen chem right?" the harmonic clink of your bangles rang through the space you occupied as you focused on making your voice sound as sweet and sultry as possible

the man in question, y'know, the ones your friends call p.f.b.b.. the p.f.b.b. thing was all credits to you of course. every time you talked about that day's writing or chemistry lecture, he was always mentioned as just that: pretty face black beanie, even though "pretty face black beanie" never looked your way once. it was several continuous moments of pure delusion, your pure delusion

p.f.b.b. glanced up at you and gave a small head nod before turning back to his laptop. it had a clear case with a bunch of stickers from bands you didn't recognize amongst other things you assumed he liked. "of course you are! the chemistry between us is just so genuine maybe its cause you're such a gentleman!"

a giggle escaped you as you continued talking. "see what i did there? the gen from genuine and the gen from gentleman both correspond to the gen from gen chem. which i know means general by the way, i'm not—"

"are you okay?"

p.f.b.b.'s eyes were now trained on your form, looking with an expression you couldn't discern as anything but pure concern. but of course, for you, that meant something completely different. under his gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up and you began to fidget. "p.f.b.b., stop looking at me like that! you're making me shy…"

it was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "why do you keep calling me that?"

"i'm sorry?" you tilted your head a bit

"this is maybe the third or fourth time you've called me p.f.b.b.," he takes a sip from his coffee cup before continuing to type away on his laptop

i've spoken to you before??? is what you thought

and its also what you said.

"well yes," he started, gaze never leaving the blue light of his device, "like that time i answered professor's question and you said 'wow p.f.b.b. you're so smart!'. or that other time when i picked up your pencil case for you as i was leaving the lecture hall. or when—"

"okay i get it! i seriously don't remember that happening at all though… maybe i should start taking memory pills…" you muttered

"i know you're popular and stuff but we're in university now. the bullying thing is outdated and super uncool."

you had to take a couple of moments to fully grasp what he was saying. he thought you were bullying him. he thought you were a bully. and worst of all, he thought you were uncool. your body shivered at that thought and a pit formed in your stomach

"wait—!" you exclaimed, even though he wasn't going anywhere, "first off, i'm not bullying you! the p.f.b.b. thing is an inside joke—"

"am i in on the joke?"

you froze in place. he got you there. "well no—"

"exactly. move to the second thing please." he bluntly stated as he took another swig of coffee

"okay um, i'm not uncool! i'm actually really cool. and i wouldn't consider myself to be popular either!" you scrambled to find your words and for each syllable that you said, you felt that pit in your stomach growing bigger

"everyone in the school knows you. you're popular." he said as he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out glasses and putting them on

you usually would be entranced, but you had way bigger fish to fry. "i—i can't be popular! what if someone asks me for the best date spots, or amazing places to eat, or secret secluded areas for a bit of privacy!? i'm not from here! i wouldn't know! and—and then i'll look like a failure! i'll look like a loser! p.f.b.b. i can't!—wait."

it was only when you stopped talking that he looked up from his laptop, "what…?"

you'd never noticed it before but his voice was really nice, almost to the point where even you would shut up just to hear him talk about any topic that came to his mind 

"are you from here?"

"uh, yeah? i was born and raised in this area. why?" p.f.b.b raised his eyebrow at your sudden question to which you sighed in response. "oh nothing…," you cupped your hands on your jaw and looked out a nearby window. "i just wish a local, y'know, someone who's lived here all their life and was born and raised here, knows all the ins and outs of the city…, yeah just wish someone like that would show me around. i'm still new here…"

"well, i hope you find that person."

your eyes snapped open to see him all packed up, headphones on, and that suspiciously never-ending coffee cup in hand. "bye for now."

sitting in shock was all you could do. and sit you did. a calm five or so minutes had passed before you noticed something shiny in your peripheral. a card, but not just any card, a pokémon card, but not just any pokémon card, an ultra rare pokémon card at the back of a phone, but not just any phone, p.f.b.b.'s phone

you struck gold. pretty face black beanie will certainly be looking for this soon enough, and then you'll be there to swoop in and save the day. and it'll go something like this…

"ugh, where is that thing!" p.f.b.b. mutters frustratingly

"what thing?" you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes

"my phone. i must've misplaced it."

"oh perhaps…" you walk over to where he's standing, his phone in hand, "is this your phone?" you look up at him cutely

"yes! this is my phone! you found it! how can i ever repay you?"

"oh… you don't have to. i was just looking out for you…"

"i know! let's get married!"

"well if you insist…"

"of course! i love you!"

cue flowers and glitter and sparkles 

you giggled from how creative and vivid the scene was but unfortunately that sound broke you from your delusion and brought you right back to the real world

"i have p.f.b.b.'s phone." you said flatly, opening the door to your shared apartment. shouts of "what?!" and "huh??!" filled the space as you set down your things and laid on the couch. your best friends quickly flooded the living room, throwing questions at you

"ladies, ladies, please. one at a time."

nobara hit your thigh, "stop acting so high and mighty! how did you get his phone?"

mimiko massaged the area as she listened to you, "so long story short, we were talking at a cafe and then he left but forgot his phone so i just picked it up!"

"so… you stole his phone." nanako stated

"no. he left it and i picked it up."

"wait— don't you know his schedule?" nobara mentioned, resting her head on the plush couch, "shouldn't you have been able to give it back to him?" 

"well no… i'm not a stalker! i just have general knowledge of when and where his classes will be during the week."

"so why didn't you give it back to him, instead of stealing it?" mimiko teased, now kneading at your calves

"not you too, mimi!" you whined, "like i said, i didn't steal his phone! he left it on the cafe table and i picked it up!"

their voices mixed together to try and get the same two words through that thick skull of yours

"that's theft!"

the arguing of you and your roommates concerning your concerning ethics filled your ears, preventing you from hearing anything else. especially that banging on the front door

nanako shushed you all, bringing her voice to a barely audible whisper, "do you guys… hear that?"

thump. thump. thump.

"its probably one of your packages," nobara mentioned, earning an enlightened nod, "you seriously have a shopping addiction."

the shopaholic stood up and walked over to the door, still whispering, "you're one to talk!" you, nobara, and mimiko watched on as nanako's hand slipped over the door handle and turned it open. you swore that the door wasn't even open for a full five seconds before it was slammed shut. "it's a man."

the four of you exchanged confused looks. "yeah… maybe it's the delivery man…? check for a package," you said reassuringly. the door opens and it closes. nanako's voice right after. "no package."

"well… uh… what does he look like? maybe he's returning something one of us misplaced?" mimiko stammered, feeling the tension in the air rise at the unexpected stranger. the door opens again and it closes again. "brown hair. brown eyes. he's kinda emo looking…"

"spencer's emo or hot topic emo?"

"spencer's."

"wait!" you realized, practically falling over yourself as you ran to the door and pulled it open, "its–!"

"uh, hi..." you said, voice suddenly small compared to your usual playful demeanor. he was standing right outside your apartment door, looking more tired than annoyed, though the crease in his brow said he was definitely annoyed

"hey," he replied, with little emotion. his eyes briefly flicked to your roommates huddled behind you, who had all gone suspiciously silent. "you have my phone."

you unfortunately understood his intentions of finding where you live. it wasn't to ask you on a date, or to take you up on that offer you made earlier, it was to get his phone. you could've lied and said you didn't have it but…

"i do!" you held it up triumphantly like some kind of trophy, though the look on his face immediately made you regret it. "...but i swear, i wasn't trying to steal it or anything!"

his eyebrow raised slightly, and for a second, you thought he might actually laugh. instead, he sighed and reached out his hand. "can i have it back?"

"of course," you said quickly, but just as you extended it toward him, you froze. "wait! how do i know this is really your phone?"

"i'm sorry?" he blinked, looking somewhere between incredulous and exhausted. "you know it's my phone. you picked it up."

"yeah, but..." you stepped back slightly, holding it just out of reach. "what if it's not your phone, and you're just some random guy who also happens to wear a black beanie and drink coffee in moody cafes?"

your roommates groaned audibly from behind you, and you heard nobara mutter something like she's impossible under her breath

p.f.b.b., stared at you for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. "okay. fine." he held out his hand again, palm up. "ask me something only i'd know if it's my phone."

you paused, scrambling for a question. "uh... what's on the back of your phone case?"

"a meowscarada pokémon card. holo, rare," he said without missing a beat. "which you clearly already saw, since you're holding it."

damn. he had you there.

"okay, okay," you relented, placing the phone in his outstretched hand. "i believe you. say no more."

he chuckled softly—barely audible, but enough to make your heart do a little somersault. "thanks. i appreciate you picking it up. i was worried i'd have to replace the card."

before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "you must really like pokémon, huh?"

"it's nostalgic," he admitted, remembering his childhood. "my brother and i used to play together when we were kids."

your lips curved into a grin. "that's cute. guess you're not as emo as you look."

his head tilted slightly at that, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "guess not. anyway..." he glanced past you at your still-curious roommates. "thanks again. i should go."

"wait!" you called after him as he started to turn. he stopped, looking at you expectantly. "how do you know where i live? do you live around here or something?"

"i… uh… live just over there," his thumb pointed behind him and you followed that direction to…

the unit right across from yours.

703.

"what?!" you gasped, "how come you never said anything? plus, i never see you in the mornings? how is this possible?!"

"one, we don't know each other well enough yet to know where the other lives," p.f.b.b. scrolled through his missed messages while he continued, "and two, i make sure to leave early and come back late every day just so i can avoid you."

grumbling, you wanted to slam the door in his face again but remembered that you had to choose peace. "that's great! i hope you're happy!" aaaand you slammed the door anyway

yet. we don't know each other well enough yet.

"oh p.f.b.b~!" nanako swooned

"oh [name]~!" nobara giggled

"insert kissing sounds and the actors are running their hands over the other's body." 

"stop that!!"

music was blasting and your spirits were up. you were practically skipping to your next class. that was… until you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde behind the granite fountain 

"uncle ken!" you called out, rounding the fountain's corner

"hello, [name]. what brings you here?" the well-composed man paused his previous conversation, giving his research assistant a silent apology while he focused on you

you nodded to p.f.b.b. before answering kento, "nothing much! just walking to my next class,"

"uncle…?" p.f.b.b questioned under his breath

unfortunately for him, his mentor picked up on it. "my apologies, i should introduce you two," kento turned towards the other man who seemed to regret his decision of speaking his thoughts, "ino, this is [name]. her parents and i are close so, naturally, she calls me her uncle. and—"

kento spun back to you, using his hand to motion towards "ino". you noticed a bracelet adorning his right hand. kento doesn't like wearing anything that's not a watch and it looks handmade and those colors… yellow, blue, black and brown??? how odd… "[name], this is takuma ino. he's been my research assistant for two years."

it was kind of weird to realize that p.f.b.b.'s name wasn't… well— p.f.b.b. like, he has a whole name: takuma ino. it hung on your lips and your tongue savored the taste. "hi," you spoke, giving ino a small wave. "hey," he responded, parroting your motions

"was that what you were working on at the cafe yesterday? some data stuff?"

"uh…, yeah. yeah i was."

kento silently watched this happen and even he was uncomfortable. there was a slight tension in the air. it was missable but apparent enough if you looked for it. he cleared his throat softly, bringing your attention back to him. "how are your parents?" he asked.

"they're good," you replied, smiling, though your voice carried a slight hesitation. "they always ask about you, by the way. mom wanted me to tell you that you're still her favorite."

kento allowed a rare chuckle, shaking his head. "i'm flattered, but i imagine that makes your dad roll his eyes."

"it does." you laughed

"speaking of family," you continued, "my brother is getting discharged from the military soon! and we're planning to have a little get together or something. nothing too crazy, but it'll be our first one together since he left and i know how much he loves you so…" your voice trailed off, hoping that the silence was strong enough to carry your unspoken words

"i understand. of course i'll be there."

kento smiled when he saw you beaming, on the verge of jumping up and down from happiness, and from the corner of your eye, you swear that you saw the corner of a lip curl up from that "ino"

"great—oh shoot—!" you checked the time on your phone and realized that… if you didn't go now, you'd be late. and that professor does not play. you showed up three minutes late to one of his lectures and he basically publicly humiliated you. "i gotta go but text mom and dad about it, okay uncle? bye now! bye ino!"

as you speed walked away, you felt ino's eyes lingering on you. a soft chuckle escaped your lips. takuma ino—you liked the way it sounded

the campus library was unusually quiet for a wednesday night, the usual hum of late-night chatter replaced by the occasional sound of a book being flipped or the muffled footsteps of a librarian making their rounds. you had no plans to be productive tonight; in fact, you'd come here specifically to procrastinate. or, more accurately, to bother someone

your target was easy to spot, tucked away in the far corner of the library like a hermit hiding from civilization. p.f.b.b was hunched over his notebook, one earbud in, one out, the faint sound of rock music drifting in the air around him

you made a beeline for him, sliding into the seat across the table before he could even process what was happening. "fancy seeing you here," you whispered conspiratorially, even though this was his obvious habitat

he didn't even look up, just sighed. "you're aware this is a library, right?"

"and you're aware you're in my study spot, right?" you countered, setting your bag down with an exaggerated thud

finally, his eyes flicked up to meet yours, unimpressed as always. "you… study?" before you could fight back, he continued, "anyways… pretty sure i've been coming here since the semester started, so if anything, this is my study spot."

"well that's too bad for you because i've been coming here since the first day i set foot on this campus," you shot back with a grin, leaning forward on your elbows. "but i'm willing to negotiate. how about we share?"

p.f.b.b. stared at you before shaking his head and returning to his notes. "as long as you don't talk too much."

"me? never."

silence settled between you for a few moments, a fragile truce held together by his focus and your determination not to annoy him too much. but that didn't stop you from sneaking glances at his notes

"why are you studying organic chem?" you asked after a while, squinting at the complicated diagrams on his page. "i thought we were suffering through general chem together."

"because i'm actually trying to graduate," he replied flatly

"well, me too," you said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back in your chair

he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, finally setting his pen down. "if you're not here to study, what are you here for?"

you grinned, pulling a pack of gummy bears out of your bag and sliding them across the table toward him. "to make sure you don't pass out from starvation, obviously."

he looked at the gummy bears, then at you, his expression unreadable. after a beat, he shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you're weird, you know that?"

"compliments will get you everywhere," you said, plucking a gummy bear from the pack and popping it into your mouth

for the rest of the night, you sat across from him, not saying much but somehow managing to get under his skin with every little comment or movement. oddly enough, seeing him work made you itch to do some studying of your own. and when he finally packed up to leave, muttering something about having an early class, he didn't tell you to leave him alone or call you annoying

instead, he paused just before he walked away, turning back to you with a bemused look

"thanks for the gummy bears."

"anytime— wait! aren't we going the same way…? wait for me!" you scrambled to pack up your pencils and books, stuffing them in your bag, not realizing that p.f.b.b—i mean— ino, was kinda, sorta, maybe, if you had asked him he'd say "no", but from what i saw, he was… waiting for you…

"then move faster, idiot."

you walked through the halls, passing numerous rooms, a small skip in your step. your body froze as you recalled a certain room's number, kento's research lab. walking back to where it was and peeping through the windowed door, you saw that it was… organized chaos. papers and binders were stacked, whiteboards covered in dense equations, and the faint scent of coffee could be smelled from outside the door. looking closer, you could see someone hunched over a desk, scribbling something on a notepad. ino.

you twisted the handle of the door, opening it with a push, "tough work?"

ino looked up from his desk, blinking at you in mild surprise. his hair was slightly disheveled and rid of that beanie, and there was a smudge of something that looked suspiciously like marker on his cheek

"i'm fine," he said, though the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. "really. i've got it handled."

you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "you're drowning in… whatever this is. don't worry about it, i'll just provide extra assistance."

he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "seriously, you don't have to. it's not a lot of work."

the phrase held so much irony considering there were sheets upon sheets of paper, and towers of that. you guessed he realized his small lie once he glanced around the room

ino sighed but didn't argue further, instead gesturing to the mountain of work in front of him. "fine. if you're so eager to help, you can start with that pile over there."

you pulled up a chair beside him, scanning the papers and the spreadsheet open on his laptop. "okay, let's see what we're working with."

as you both settled into the task, the room grew quieter, save for the sound of typing or the rustle of papers

"you're surprisingly good at this," ino said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye

"surprisingly?"

he winced. "i didn't mean it like that. just… i didn't expect you to pick it up so quickly."

"thanks for the backhanded compliment," you said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips

he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "sorry. i meant it as a real compliment. you're making this way easier."

"you're welcome," you said, turning back to the spreadsheet. "but seriously, how have you two been doing this without losing your minds?"

"coffee," he said immediately

you snorted. "yeah, i can tell. your bloodstream is probably ninety percent caffeine at this point."

he smirked, but the teasing in his expression softened into something more genuine. "it's been… a lot. nanami keeps me grounded, though. he's really good at this kind of thing."

"yeah, he is," you said, pausing for a moment before adding, "but so are you."

ino blinked, caught off guard. "me?"

"yes, you," you said, glancing at him. "you're smart, ino. you don't give yourself enough credit."

he looked at you for a moment, his usual demeanor towards you faltering. "thanks," he said softly

the moment lingered longer than either of you expected, the air between you feeling just a bit heavier

the hours passed in a steady rhythm of work and banter sprinkled in, and by the time the sun began to set, the two of you had cleared more than half of the tasks kento had left behind

"see?" you said as you leaned back in your chair. "teamwork makes the dream work."

ino laughed, shaking his head. "alright, fine. you win. maybe having you here wasn't the worst thing."

"don't get too used to it," you teased, grabbing your bag. "next time, i might just let you suffer alone."

he playfully shot you a look while stretching in his chair, "hey, how about i show you around."

"what? are—are you joking?"

 he got up and packed his bag with never before seen speed, "yeah. i am."

"you—!"

"follow me."

ino led the way out of the building, his energy contagious despite the long day you both had. the evening air was cool and refreshing, the city humming quietly as the golden glow of the setting sun bathed everything in a warm light

"i know this great spot," he said with a grin as he walked slightly ahead, hands casually stuffed in his jacket pockets. "you've been here for a while, but have you actually seen the good stuff?"

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "define 'good stuff.'"

he smirked over his shoulder. "you'll see."

as you followed ino down the bustling streets, the city seemed to transform as it got darker. neon lights flickered to life, illuminating the shop windows and casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. the aroma of street food mingled with the faint scent of rain, creating a vivid tapestry of sights and smells

"so," you began, dodging a biker weaving through the crowd, "what's the first stop on this magical mystery tour of yours? please tell me it's food. i'm starving."

ino grinned, gesturing dramatically toward a food cart that had a line of eager customers. "you, my friend, are about to experience the best takoyaki this city has to offer."

"oh, come on," you teased, falling in step beside him. "isn't that what everyone says about their favorite food cart?"

"don't disrespect taro-san like that," ino shot back, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "this man has been perfecting his craft since before i could hold chopsticks."

moments later, you stood together, balancing plates of piping hot takoyaki drizzled with sauce and topped with dancing bonito flakes. ino took a bite, his expression almost reverent. "see? what did i tell you? food of the gods."

you took a bite, and your eyes widened. the crisp shell gave way with a soft crunch, revealing the molten, creamy filling inside. it was so warm it nearly melted on your tongue, a perfect blend of savory depth and a subtle sweetness that made your mouth water instantly. the octopus at the center was tender, just the right amount of chewy, and so fresh it almost seemed to bring a whisper of the ocean with it. the sauce on top was like a burst of fireworks—sweet and tangy, with a smoky undertone that paired flawlessly with the creamy mayo drizzled alongside it

you had to pause for a second after swallowing, just to appreciate it. the warmth lingered in your mouth, and you already knew one bite wouldn't be enough. within seconds the entire thing was gone, but you couldn't give ino the satisfaction of being right

"it was alright i guess." you shrugged, "i suppose you're not as full of it as i thought."

"right…," ino said with a suspicious grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow. "stick with me and i'll make you a connoisseur."

he didn't waste any time bringing you to the next point of interest, grabbing your hand with his and dragging you to a small, secluded alley lined with string lights and small artisan shops. it was beautiful, to say the least

"it's… quieter here."

"yeah," ino agreed, his voice softer now. "this is one of my favorite spots. it's like the city pauses for a second."

you glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes softened as he looked around. "you come here often?"

"used to, back when i needed to think. or when i was avoiding studying," he admitted with a sheepish grin

"you? avoid studying? how unlikely…" you sneakily caught a glance at your still interlocked hands, noticing a small, oddly colored, handmade bracelet around ino's wrist. but it seems you were staring at it for far too long

"oh! sorry!" he stuttered, pulling his hand from yours, and bringing it to his chest. you immediately felt the slight chill of the night but still flashed a bittersweet smile that conveyed something of a don't worry about it. out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the shops practically twinkling. getting a closer look, your wallet itched once you saw the array of jewelry and hair accessories. it was sorted by color and then by type, gold earrings on the far left and silver necklaces on the far right. but you were inexplicably drawn to one item: a hair clip with four small, white seashells on it

"that one?"

ino's voice next to you made you jump slightly. giving him a small hit on his shoulder, you followed his finger to the item you were just admiring. "yeah, that one. it's really pretty, isn't it?" ino hummed in response, surprised to see you turn away from it and walk down the alley instead

"but…, maybe i'll get it another time."

after a minute or so of window shopping the rest of the stores, ino caught up to you. "next up is the park. you can't say you've really seen the city until you've walked through it at night."

once you got closer, ino pointed at the beautifully lit area in the distance. lanterns illuminated the paths, and the sound of a bubbling fountain echoed softly. children chased each other, their laughter carrying through the crisp air, while couples strolled hand in hand. ino brought you to a bench overlooking a pond, the moonlight reflecting off its surface like a scene from a painting

"alright, i'll give it to you," you said, leaning back and stretching, stomach craving that takoyaki from earlier. "you weren't kidding. this is incredible."

"see?" ino said with a smirk, leaning back beside you. "i'm full of surprises. and speaking of that… here." ino reached into his left pocket, pulling a small item out, and pushing it into your hands

staring down at it, you realized it was the seashell hair pin you were eyeing from earlier. overrun with happiness, you flung your arms around ino, showering him in thank you's. pulling away and on the edge of bouncing in your seat, you slipped it into your hair, looking at ino for validation

"how does it look?"

oh. oh.

she's… beautiful. though, i've always known that…

thanking the cashier and gathering your bags, you made a beeline for the exit. you see, you were trying to make it home as quickly as possible because it was friday and you and your roommates always watched a specific show on friday nights. you guys ordered in and it was just amazing, until nanako said that she was craving your cooking, everyone agreed, and then you somehow lost the four way rock, paper, scissors on who goes to the store to get the ingredients. so here you were, standing under the awning of the nearby grocery store, bags in hand, watching the wall of rain as it drenched the street. the rain that wasn't in the forecast and the kind of downpour that left everyone scrambling for cover

great. just great.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from kento

kento: the rain was unexpected. are you alright?

you sighed and quickly typed back

you: yeah, just stuck waiting for it to stop. don't worry, i'll figure it out

after a couple minutes of you standing and contemplating your next move, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and the passenger window rolled down, revealing p.f.b.b.'s grin that even though you've seen about three times, you'd never get used to

"need a ride?" he called out, leaning casually over the center console

you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what are you doing here?"

"i was with nanami when he mentioned you," he said, shrugging. "said you were stranded. figured i'd play the hero."

you tried to cross your arms but the weight of the bags were kind of weighing them down, "play the hero driving kento's car? do you even have your license?"

"hey—," he explained, raising his voice just a bit, "it may be nanami's car but he said i could take it! and yes, i do have my license!"

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "alright, fine. but what about these?" you gestured to your grocery bags

"pop the trunk," he said, pressing a button on the dash. the trunk lid opened smoothly. "problem solved."

with a sigh, you stepped into the rain long enough to stow your bags before climbing into the passenger seat, shaking droplets off your jacket as you settled in. the interior was warm, the faint scent of leather and air freshener filling the space

"comfy?" he teased as you buckled up

"more than i'd be waiting in that rain," you shot back

he laughed, the sound light and easy, as he pulled back onto the road. the rain drummed steadily against the car, but inside, it was quiet, almost peaceful

"alright, then…, let's go home."

home, huh?

the blue light of your laptop pierced your eyes as you typed the final words of your assignment, and submitted it, chemistry work abandoned at the edge of your desk. as you were looking at it ashamedly, a ping came through your phone

xxx-xxx-xxxx: have you done the writing assignment yet?

you: wrong number

xxx-xxx-xxxx: no. it's p.f.b.b.

you: oh! how did you get my number?

p.f.b.b.: don't worry about that. did you do the assignment?

you: yeah i just finished. why?

p.f.b.b.: can you come over? i need some help with it. in exchange, i'll help you with your chem work that i know you didn't start

you: well since you're offering…

"do you still even like him?" nobara questioned, "before you'd be jumping up for joy."

"yeah, i do," you put your laptop and chemistry work and textbook in your tote, grabbing some snacks from the pantry too, "i'm just not as upfront about it anymore. maybe it's cause we're friends now, but i don't know!"

you slung your tote bag over your shoulder, opening the door to your apartment and saying a quick "i'll be back" to your girls. walking just across the hall and knocking on his door, you barely had time to exhale before it swung open to reveal ino in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just slipped off that beanie

"right on time," he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in

"you texted me like two minutes ago—"

"make yourself at home," he interrupted, already moving to clear space for you

his apartment mirrored yours in layout but had its own chaotic charm—textbooks and notes spread across the coffee table, an empty coffee mug sitting precariously on the edge

you dropped your bag and slid onto the couch, pulling out your laptop. "let's see what you've got so far."

ino groaned, flopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. "barely anything. writing isn't my thing."

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "that's what i'm here for."

the second session, where you both stumbled through the assignment, bickering over comma placement and syntax while munching on the snacks you brought. you teased him for his messy handwriting, and he fired back with jokes about your overuse of sticky notes

the fourth session, where ino finally made good on his promise to help you with chemistry. he sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining concepts in a way that actually made sense while you leaned over his shoulder to read his notes

the sixth session, where the stress of exams had both of you yawning into your notebooks. he brewed coffee—terrible coffee—but the gesture made you smile. you fell asleep on his couch that night, waking up to a blanket draped over you

or that one time he showed up at your door, unannounced, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a thick textbook in the other for an "emergency study session,"

today was no different. you walked over to ino's apartment that he graciously started leaving unlocked around this time—just for you. walking in and greeting him briefly, you sat on his couch, your knees brushing against his as you both hovered over the same textbook as you reviewed chemical equations. the proximity made it hard to focus; you were acutely aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours every time he shifted, and you wondered if he was too 

"see?" you said, pointing to a diagram. "like what does that even mean? what does this show me?"

"okay so, this shows esterification.  ethanoic acid and ethanol produces ethyl ethanoate and water in the presence of an acid catalyst like sulfuric acid. the reaction begins with the acid protonation of the carbonyl oxygen of the carboxylic acid, making the carbon more electrophilic." he replied, the words falling off his tongue with ease

you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you. though the usual playful spark was there, his words went in one ear and out the other, and you felt embarrassed that you didn't understand a word except acid, produces, reaction, and catalyst

neither of you spoke for a long moment. the tension was palpable, the world outside his apartment fading away until it was just the two of you in this bubble of uncertainty and longing

"ino, repeat that for—" you started, but your words were cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tentative it felt like a question

your breath caught, your mind racing even as your heart leapt. what is happening right now? it was almost an immediate reaction that you kissed him back, the touch lingering just long enough to send your thoughts spiraling before you pulled away

"i—" he started, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation. "i didn't mean to—"

you shook your head, rising from the couch as you scrambled to gather your things. "i should go."

"wait," he said, standing as if to follow, but you held up a hand to stop him

"i'll… see you later," you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you slipped out the door

the walk across the hall to your apartment felt endless, your heart pounding in your chest. once inside, you leaned against the door, your fingers brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over

what the fuck?

the party was in full swing, a cheerful celebration of your brother's long-awaited return. laughter and chatter filled the room, plates of food were passed around, and glasses clinked in endless toasts. you were busy setting a tray of drinks on the counter when you spotted takuma ino standing near the door, looking a little out of place but still managing to charm a small group of your family members and friends with his easygoing smile

your steps faltered, your chest tightening. he hadn't mentioned he'd be here. not that you blamed him—why would he? last night's kiss wasn't a topic either of you seemed ready to breach today. but still, the sight of him caught you completely off guard

turning on your heel, you found kento by the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. marching up to him, you jabbed a finger in his direction

"why is he here?" you hissed, keeping your voice low

kento raised an eyebrow at you, calm as ever. "he's here because i invited him. your brother wanted to know more about my project. what better way to tell him about it than to bring my research assistant? why?"

you rubbed your temple, biting back a groan. "look, i'm not saying that he can't be here, but… you could've given me a heads-up."

kento's gaze turned suspicious, and his lips twitched into a slight frown. "why would you need a heads-up? haven't i introduced you two?"

you felt heat rising to your cheeks, the embarrassment seeping into your voice as you fumbled for an explanation. "well, yeah, formally, but he and i—we—we're—he and i—NO!"

kento stared at you, unblinking, while you buried your face in your hands, muttering curses under your breath. his frown deepened, and you could practically feel his uncle intuition kicking in

"wait," he said slowly, his tone sharpening. "what do you mean, 'he and i'?"

"nothing!" you snapped, dropping your hands, "i meant nothing. just—just forget i said anything."

kento's expression didn't waver. he studied you for a moment longer before sighing and shaking his head. "whatever you're freaking out about will pass. ino's a good guy."

"yeah, i know," you muttered under your breath, glancing back toward ino, who was now engaged in a conversation with your brother. his laugh echoed across the room, and you couldn't help the flutter of nervous energy it sent through you

as the party continued in full swing, you moved around the room, trying to keep busy—refilling snacks, grabbing empty plates, and avoiding ino's gaze whenever your paths seemed to almost cross

you weren't sure how long you could keep this up. every time his laughter reached your ears or you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, your heart seemed to skip a beat. the kiss from last night lingered in the back of your mind, a constant, unspoken weight

you had just finished setting down a fresh tray of drinks when you heard a voice behind you

"hey."

you froze, recognizing it immediately. slowly turning around, you found ino standing there, his hands holding a can of soda; they were shaking. his usual smile was softer now, almost nervous

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear over the party noise

your heart sank and leaped at the same time, "uh, sure. now?"

he nodded. "yeah. just for a minute. outside?"

you hesitated, glancing around the room. kento was chatting with your brother near the couch, and the rest of the guests were engrossed in their own conversations. no one would miss you for a few minutes

"okay," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended

ino led the way to the front door, holding it open for you before stepping out into the cool night air. the silence stretched as you stood there, arms crossed against the slight chill. ino rubbed the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words

"so," he started, his tone careful, "i uh… figured it was probably a bad idea to bring this up inside. with, you know, everyone around."

you nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "probably."

he let out a small breath, finally meeting your eyes. "about last night…"

your stomach flipped. of course, he'd bring it up. you'd been bracing for this moment all day, but now that it was here, you didn't know what to say

"look," he continued, "i don't want to make things weird between us. especially not with nanami, or your family, or—"

"it's not weird," you interrupted, surprising even yourself. "at least, it doesn't have to be."

his brows lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his expression. "really? because i was worried i'd screwed things up."

"you didn't," you said quickly. "it's just… unexpected."

ino nodded, stepping closer. his voice softened, almost hesitant. "i don't regret it, you know. the kiss. but if you're not okay with it, i'll back off. no questions asked."

the sincerity in his tone made your chest ache. you looked up at him, taking in the way his usually confident demeanor seemed so tentative now

"i didn't say i wasn't okay with it," you murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "believe it or not, but i've been flirting with you for a while now."

ino blinked at you, his brows knitting together in confusion. "wait… what?"

you tilted your head, giving him a look that said seriously? "flirting, ino. you know, dropping hints, teasing, trying to get you to notice me?"

he stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if the realization was slowly dawning on him. "you're kidding."

you let out a soft laugh, part amused and part exasperated. "no, i'm not kidding. you're telling me you didn't pick up on any of it? not even when i started making excuses to see you more?"

ino's hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that familiar sheepish way. "i thought you were just being nice! like, nanami-level nice."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "nanami-level nice? ino, i bought you coffee with your weirdly specific order three times in one week. kento would never do that."

he opened his mouth, then closed it, a look of genuine shock crossing his face. "wait… that was flirting?"

"yes," you said with a small laugh. "and the time i told you your new haircut made you look good? or when i made sure there was always a snack for you at kento's? flirting, ino."

ino's jaw dropped slightly, his hands falling to his sides as he processed your words. "oh, my god. i'm the dumbest guy alive."

"well… maybe," you said, trying not to laugh at his adorably stunned expression

"i am," he insisted, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. "you've been into me this whole time, and i've been walking around like an idiot, completely missing it."

you couldn't help but laugh now, the sound easing the tension between you. "well, now you know."

he took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair, still looking flustered but with a hint of something softer in his eyes. "yeah. now i know."

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet night stretching around you. then, almost shyly, ino glanced at you again. "so… does this mean i can kiss you again? like, now that i'm finally catching up and all."

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. "i think that depends. are you going to keep being oblivious, or are you going to start paying attention?"

he grinned, his usual confidence flickering back. "oh, i'm paying attention now. promise."

before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as his gaze met yours. slowly, he leaned in, his lips expecting to meet yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was certain, but… instead they met your pointer finger

"do you hear that? i think someones calling for me." you walked back into the house, leaving ino to wallow in his self-inflicted embarrassment for a while

the convenience store's fluorescent lights buzzed softly above the aisles, casting a harsh glow on shelves stocked with instant noodles, snacks, and cheap energy drinks. you and ino—or, as he let you call him in private, takuma—had wandered in after a long evening of hanging out at his apartment, the kind of night where laughter and teasing filled the silence

takuma leaned against the refrigerator door, his black beanie pushed back enough to reveal a few strands of his messy hair. he squinted at the drink selection like it held the answers to life's greatest mysteries

"you've been staring at that for a full minute," you teased, sliding up beside him. "it's not that deep. just grab the green tea like you always do."

he smirked without looking at you. "and miss out on your expert critique of my choices? never."

you reached past him to grab a bottle of sparkling water, your shoulder brushing his arm. it wasn't much, just a small touch, but it was enough to make the air between you shift. for a second, it felt like the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got louder, the hum filling the space where words should be

he cleared his throat, stepping back just slightly. "you always drink that fizzy stuff. isn't it just soda pretending to be fancy?"

"it's called having taste," you corrected, placing it in your basket

"right. taste," he said, rolling his eyes but smiling anyway

as the two of you wandered through the aisles, the quiet of the late hour settled over you, broken only by the occasional sound of a cashier scanning items. you found yourself in front of the snack section, takuma trailing behind you with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets

"you want anything?" you asked, holding up a bag of chips

"nah, i'm good," he said, but his eyes lingered on the pack of pocky in your hand

you smirked, tossing it into your basket. "liar. i'll grab it for you. consider it a thank you for giving back that hoodie you stole last week."

"i didn't steal it," he argued, though his tone was more defensive than adamant

"oh, so it just walked out of my closet on its own? how did you even get in?"

he scratched the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "mimiko let me in… and… it's comfortable."

you grinned, but decided to let it go. instead, you nudged him lightly with your elbow as you headed toward the counter. "next time, just ask. i might even let you keep it."

he followed you in silence, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest hint of pink on his ears

after paying for your haul, you stepped outside into the crisp night air. the streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that felt rare in the city. takuma walked beside you, the pocky in his hand already opened

"you're eating that now?" you asked, digging through the bag for that sparkling water of yours

"why not?" he said around the stick in his mouth, offering you the box

you took one, the chocolate coating melting slightly against your lips. for a moment, the two of you just walked in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier still lingering but softer now, like a thread pulling you closer without snapping

"thanks," he said suddenly, his voice quiet

"for what?" you asked, glancing at him

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. "i don't know."

"he knew. he definitely knew," you insisted, gesturing wildly as you paced the living room

mimiko tilted her head thoughtfully. "but if he knew, why wouldn't he just say something?"

nanako smirked. "maybe he's waiting for you to say something first. or maybe he's just an idiot who can't read the room."

nobara clicked her tongue. "i mean, the guy's not exactly subtle. pretending he needs help with writing assignments? clearing his schedule to go grocery shopping with you so that you never have to carry the bags in by yourself? and don't even get me started on how he looks at you when you're not paying attention."

you threw up your hands, exasperated. "what am i supposed to do, just march up to him and demand he explain himself?"

"yes," they chorused

"ugh!" you groaned, grabbing your bag and stomping toward your room. "i don't wanna do this anymore!"

their laughter followed you down the hall, but your irritation evaporated the moment you stepped inside. on your desk, there was a letter

your name was scrawled across the front in unmistakable handwriting. your breath caught as you picked it up, hands trembling slightly as you unfolded the paper. the words inside were written with care, each line pulling at your heart:

to you, the one who's always on my mind,

i've started and restarted this letter more times than i can count, and even now, i'm not sure if i've found the right words. how do you tell someone that they've completely changed the way you see the world? that their laugh is the best sound you've ever heard, or that their smile makes even the worst days feel a little brighter?

i've never been good at this—putting my feelings into words—but for you, i'll try. because you deserve to know how incredible you are, even if i can't say it as smoothly as i'd like.

you have this way of making everything feel easier, lighter, just by being yourself. and it's not just the big things, like how you help me with work or how you always know exactly what to say when i'm frustrated. it's the little things too. like how you hum under your breath when you're focused, how you tilt your head when you're confused, how you always manage to start an argument over the stupidest of topics, how you light up when you talk about something you love. it's those little things that make me fall harder for you every day.

i don't know when it started—maybe it was the late nights we spent working together, or maybe it was how you didn't let me quit when things felt impossible. but now i don't think i want to stop. you make me want to be better, just so i can be someone worthy of being by your side. and maybe i'm not saying this the right way, but i hope you understand what i mean.

i don't know what you'll do with this letter, and maybe i'm an idiot for writing it (and asking mimiko to put it on your desk for me), but if nothing else, i just needed you to know.

yours (if you want me to be),

p.f.b.b.

your chest tightened, emotions flooding through you as you reread the letter. before you could realize it, you were across the hall, in front of takuma's door

you knocked on it and pushed it open without waiting for a response. "takuma—"

he was standing in the kitchen, and your eyes immediately caught the bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. the vibrant blooms were arranged with care, their familiar scent wafting through the room

takuma turned, his face a mix of surprise and panic. "oh. uh… hey."

"you're unbelievable," you said, holding up the letter, trying to fight back your smile

his ears turned red as he scratched the back of his neck. "so, you found that."

"takuma, what is this?" you gestured to the flowers and the letter, your voice a mix of exasperation and something softer

he hesitated, looking uncharacteristically shy. "i… i wanted to tell you how i feel, but every time i try, i just… i mess it up. so, i thought maybe this would be easier."

you stared at him, your heart pounding. "and the flowers?"

"i thought they'd make you smile," he said simply, stepping closer. "do they?"

you felt your lips twitch despite yourself. "they do."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, but the tension between you only seemed to grow. his voice dropped, softer now. "i meant every word in that letter. i did."

your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "why didn't you tell me sooner? i've been…" you trailed off, shaking your head

"been what?" he pressed, his eyes searching yours.

"waiting," you admitted. "i've been waiting for you to say something since the party. anything."

takuma stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. "i'm saying it now," he murmured. "i care about you. a lot. more than i probably should. and if i'm being honest, you terrify me a little because of how much i feel when i'm around you."

your heart twisted at his words, and before your mind could find a reason to say no, you leaned up, capturing his lips in a kiss. it was hesitant at first, soft and searching, but when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the world seemed to melt away

when you pulled back, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours

"i think we should date," he said, a small smile playing on his lips

you laughed softly, your nerves giving way to warmth. "i think we should too."

his grin widened, but before the moment could get too serious, he quipped, "does this mean i get to steal your clothes now?"

you smacked his arm playfully. "i'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

"hey…, what does p.f.b.b. stand for?"

"mmm," you hummed, looking at your… boyfriend. "don't worry about it."

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[mrs-starkgaryen]

This chapter has me like

Girl where do I start? The wording in this was 😘🤌

Let's dive in to my analysis like I'm back at uni-

1. "You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean."

A) This symbolises their relationship will feel like they're flying high at one but come crashing down eventually. Whether that be one of them dies, personal issues or LA fucks them up.

B) my first thought reading 'Titantic' was 😱 the last time I read something about the Titantic was your last Aegon x Reader but they both survived... Is this your way of hinting that they won't be so lucky this time to have a happy ever after?

2. "He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

A) Forget reader, does he want to bend me over? This was so hot, he loves taking care of us.

B) Is this because he's used to what goes on in LA or this possibly him speaking from experience? Has he had such a traumatic experience that made him want to leave acting behind and go into something that will protect future actors from the same fate?

3. “I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his."

A) the fuck he is?! Not on my watch

B) I feel like this Becca is someone his family set him up with, to calm him down maybe? I don't feel like he's attached

C) Or he does like her but not enough and he'll realise that when he realises reader is amazing

D) Something defo happened for him to want a calm life..

4. "But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

A) idk if it was because it was Aegon's bite mark but that was one of the most sexiest things you've written.

B) I bet Aegon watched that and gulped, thinking "oh shit."

C) if when they have sex or whatnot and this is not mentioned or reenacted, I'll riot

5. “Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you."

A) something has happened for him to disappear like that...

B) could be an illness like people are saying but I feel like it was something traumatic and his family told him not to talk about it as it would affect their image. So he chose to stay close but not in the spotlight

C) Feels a lot like the Olsen sisters, like we have Elizabeth but where did the twins go? Very much like Aegon??

D) I can't wait to see what his sister and brothers are doing in this industry lmao

E) I feel like they're in trouble somehow- celebrity vs celebrity

6. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

A) again something happened and he doesn't want it repeating

B) I copied this mainly because it was probably my favourite section due to how spot on you are? How well you wrote it? Fake people playing real people, barbies and bratz games

7. "You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass."

A) like everyone said, you're going to kill him off, aren't you?

B) unless you've made it so obvious that he isn't. Maybe not physically but mentally, emotionally. You'll find a way around it

C) maybe she dies

D) is the way she described that food going to describe the way one of them ends up? Covered in blood?

8. Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

A) double whammy, sky and her are bright

B) we've found the reader's name, pack it up

C) and he goes into his office to get away from the sun of the sky and her? So he's defo gonna try and keep away from her romantically as his feelings would be too much and he'll be scared she'll find out what happened to him cuz he doesn't want to break her optimism

9. “Okay. I hope you get the star.”

A) I've got a star spot sticker on rn, so I've technically got it

B) the Hollywood star?? His or hers? Omg I'm banging my head on the wall, I feel like this is significant (or I need to go bed)

10. “Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

A) we've got the title, pack quicker guys

B) oh ho, oh ho. We knew it was a curse but why is it to him? WHAT HAS HAPPENED??

11. “Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

A) oh you really don't like Jace lmao

B) the orcas will be coming for u

Overall, sorry for an essay. I know I repeated a lot of the same stuff but I'm sure something happend. I keep thinking of the Brandon Fraser case (bless him) but idk if you'd go that dark.

Either way, great story so far and I can't wait to delve into the dark underbelly of sunny LA

A Curse [Chapter 1: Chinatown]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), a lil age gap, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, big doomed situationship energy, erotic apple eating, Minnesota.

Word count: 5.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

He takes your hand without looking at you. He had been lounging with his green Nike Killshots up on the desk when Brandon, the receptionist, brought you in. He had also been playing a translucent orange Nintendo 64; now the game is paused and Mario is frozen on the screen of the 24-inch television, deep underwater and in pursuit of a gold star affixed to the tail of a giant eel.

“Nice to meet you,” Aegon says without much interest. You’re smiling, not that he notices. Then he nods at the receptionist. “Thanks, Brando.”

“Oh, no problem at all!” Brandon trills buoyantly, pulling out your chair for you as Aegon flops back into his own. “Can I bring anything? Iced coffee, matcha latte, Perrier?”

“I’m good,” Aegon says, glancing at your resume where it rests on the desk amongst framed photographs, manilla folders, takeout menus, gum wrappers rolled into tiny balls. You have the impression he hasn’t read it. Nonetheless, you are still smiling.

“How about you, hon?” Brandon asks you.

You don’t want to make him run to a Starbucks or anything. “Um…I’ll take a Perrier, please. That’s easy for you, right? You can just grab it out of the minifridge in the lobby?”

“You betcha!” Brandon darts out of the office and returns in ten seconds. In the elapsed time, Aegon has not looked at you once. Instead, he slouches in his chair and thumps his Nikes onto the desk, sighs, and gazes longingly at the television screen. You sit up straight with your hands folded in your lap. You have dressed in business casual attire for the occasion: a modest yellow sundress and TOMS wedges, warm understated eyeshadow, sparkly champagne pink Dreamer by Anastasia Beverly Hills, matte brown Hope by Huda Beauty. Brandon returns and hands you a green glass bottle of Perrier, ice cold and slippery with condensation, and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” Aegon tells you, picking up your resume and scanning it blandly. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m really not in the market for new clients. Brando made this appointment before I told him that, and then he really didn’t want to cancel it. He liked your resume or something. So I’ll hear you out but don’t expect much.”

“Oh. Well…I really appreciate you taking the time to see me anyway!”

He gives you a swift sideways look as if suspicious of your enthusiasm. It’s not that complicated; you haven’t had an audition in weeks, and none of the other six agents you’ve seen have signed you. Aegon Targaryen’s drab little office in one half of a duplex in Elysian Park is a relative paradise. His blonde hair is gelled back from his face. He wears dark jeans, a teal t-shirt, and a wrinkled tan sport coat jacket thrown carelessly overtop. You’ve Googled him; he’s thirty-five, so a decade older than you. “Where are you from?”

That’s on your resume he hasn’t read. “Minnesota.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “No wonder you left. City or country?”

“A town called Apple Valley, it’s about a half hour outside of Minneapolis.”

“So you’re not a nepo baby.”

“A what?”

“Your parents aren’t connected to the entertainment industry in any way.”

“Oh right, no, they definitely aren’t. My dad’s a cardiologist. My mom worked as a waitress while he was in med school, and now she just has a lot of Akitas.”

Aegon flips over your resume and skims the back. “Are they supportive of you being out here?”

“Um…” You chuckle uneasily. “Not really. My older sister’s a pharmacist and my brother’s in law school, so I am definitely the underachieving child. But they’re not too mean about it. They’re just waiting for me to get it out of my system.”

“Law school where?”

“Michigan.”

“State or University?”

“University.”

“So you’re really smart,” Aegon says. He has begun to fold your resume into a paper airplane. “Intelligence is genetic. If your siblings are book smart, you probably are too.”

You smile and shrug, not knowing what to say. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Minnesota who’s calling you every other day trying to convince you to come home and marry him and have two kids and a Goldendoodle?”

You laugh. “No, no boyfriend. I mean, I have an ex-boyfriend there. I see him sometimes when I fly home to visit. But he’s not standing in the way of anything.”

Aegon nods like you’ve passed a test. “Do your parents send you money?”

“Yeah, but not a lot. They don’t want to encourage me. I work at a Cold Stone Creamery in Harbor Gateway, it’s just a few blocks away from my apartment. I have a roommate, she’s trying to be an actress too.”

“Ice cream,” he muses. He launches your paper airplane resume; it sails across the room, hits the mint green wall, nosedives to the floor. “Do you like working there?”

“It’s fine. It’s a paycheck. Back in the spring I was doing after-school programs for Mad Science, driving all over Watts and Southeast teaching children about bugs and magnets and outer space, so that was really cool.”

Aegon looks up at you, brow furrowed. It’s the first time you’ve had his full attention. “You were doing after-school programs in Watts?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. The kids were so fun. But I needed something that was more flexible so I could be free during the middle of the day for auditions and stuff.”

He blinks at you a few times. “Why do you want to be an actress?”

You stall, twisting open your Perrier and taking a gulp. “That’s a hard question.”

“It’s literally the most obvious question. If you can’t answer it, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I never wanted to be an actress,” you say. “I just kind of…am one. I can’t read a book without my expressions and my posture changing to match what’s going on in the story. I can’t watch a movie without feeling like I’m in that world with the characters, or, or, or imagining how I would have delivered the lines differently. And then even when I’m doing something totally unrelated…math homework, walking my mom’s Akitas, making ice cream…I envision where the cameras would be if I was being filmed, which way I would tilt my face to catch the light. It’s something I think about all the time and I can’t turn it off. So how am I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer and spend my entire life trying to avoid every thought that occurs to me organically? It sounds like torture.”

Aegon stares at you, a long golden silence as daylight pours in through the windows facing the east. Then he drops his green Nikes to the floor and straightens up in his chair, studying you. He points to the windows. “Look that way.”

You do, closing your eyes when the glare is too bright.

“Now the other side of the room.”

You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean.

“Stand up.”

You set your bottle of Perrier on his cluttered desk and obey, but with some reluctance. “Please don’t ask me to bend over.”

Aegon snorts a laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I want you to go to the door and then walk back to me like you’re angry.”

“I have a bunch of acting reels on YouTube—”

“I don’t want to see your acting reels. I want to see you in front of me right now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You go to the closed door, take a moment to shake off the real world, and then walk to his desk, your footsteps heavy and your eyes hard. Aegon’s dark blue gaze follows you and does not waver.

“Look at me like you’re sad.”

You imagine he’s said something horrible to you, a husband who’s broken a vow, a doctor with a grim prognosis.

“Good!” Aegon says, animated now. “You get it. It’s in the eyebrows, not the mouth.” He gestures to your chair. “Now sit down like you don’t want to be here.”

You move sluggishly, like you hope someone will interrupt you; your eyes float boredly around the room. Then you plop heavily into the chair and stare at Aegon, a little vacuously inane, a little resentful like a petulant teenager. You pretend to chew gum you don’t have.

Aegon smiles, amused. “If I’d asked you to bend over, would you have done it?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’m pretty desperate.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

You sip your Perrier. “Well, I might get a boob job.”

“Don’t get a boob job.”

“Why not? Basically everybody here’s had one. I think Taylor Swift got two.”

“You don’t need a boob job,” Aegon says impatiently.

“I’m not sure you have all the knowledge to make an informed decision about that.”

“I am so sick of this bullshit,” he mutters, pushing the takeout menus and manilla folders around on his desk but leaving it no tidier. “People cutting up their perfectly normal bodies…people stuffing themselves full of poison…so afraid to look human they end up like motherfucking Bratz dolls.” He sighs and peers up at you again. “Just so you know, I’m getting out of L.A. I’m only going to be here until September. So by then you’ll have to find someone else. But I can get you started, I guess.”

You are beaming. “You’ll be my agent?”

“Yeah, but like I said—”

You squeal and leap to your feet, taking his left hand with both of yours and shaking it vigorously, Aegon gaping up at you. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am going to be the best client you’ve ever had, I will never ever complain, I will do anything you say, I will audition with snakes and tarantulas, I will swim with sharks.”

Aegon grins, perhaps despite himself. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Why are you leaving in September?”

“I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his.

“That’s exciting!” You love weddings. “And you two look so happy together!”

“Yeah, Becca’s pretty great.” Aegon takes a stick of Juicy Fruit out of a pack on his desk, shoves it into his mouth, distractedly rolls the white and red wrapper into a ball. “She’s a real caretaker type. Always trying to do my laundry and pack me lunches and bake pies and whatever.”

“And that’s something you look for in a woman?” you tease lightheartedly. Aegon gives you a lightning-quick annoyed glance, and your smile abruptly dies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t fire me.”

He chuckles and stands up from his desk, his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Mario is still underwater, forgotten on the frozen television screen. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

“Right now?” You slide your phone out of your purse—crossbody, wildflowers, Patricia Nash but found at T.J.Maxx—to check the time. “It’s like 10:30 a.m.”

“They’ll be open by the time we walk to Chinatown.”

“Okay!” Lunch can only be a good thing. Still clutching your Perrier, you trot after Aegon into the small lobby, scuffed wood floor and cheap IKEA couches. Behind the reception desk, Brandon is making notes in a planner using one of those pens with a fake flower on top. He looks up at you and Aegon as you pass by.

“Brando, I’m taking an early lunch,” Aegon tells him.

Brandon is hopeful. “Are you signing her?”

“Yeah, but it’s just until—”

“Oh for cute!” Brandon cries out, and Aegon is stupefied. But you know exactly what Brandon means. He must be from Minnesota too. So that’s why he liked my resume. Los Angeles is kind of like the military; once you’re swimming in this multinational fishbowl, everyone from your home state is a friend.

“What part?” you ask, smiling.

“Duluth.”

“Bet the Pacific Ocean beats Lake Superior any day.”

“Have you been to Venice Beach yet?”

“Oh yeah. Heaven on earth.”

“Good luck with everything,” Brandon says, and then he winks. “I hope you get to stay.”

Stay in L.A. Stay here chasing the dream. Me too. Then you follow Aegon through the front door and down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, out into breezy mid-70s air and sunlight peeking from behind pure white tufts of cumulus clouds. You can hear music and dogs barking. The street is lined with quaint midcentury houses with metal fences and humming air conditioning units in the windows; any businessowners here are hanging their own shingle, beauticians and pet groomers and bakers. On the horizon, you can see the silvery skyscrapers of Downtown.

“So about that resume I clearly didn’t read,” Aegon says as he walks with his hands in his pockets. “Have you done any meaningful acting work since you’ve been out here?”

Why lie? “No.”

He gives you a shellshocked look like this is the worst case scenario. “Well…I appreciate your honesty. So you’ll take anything.”

“Absolutely anything. I mean…” You take an anxious swig of your Perrier. “I’d really rather not be naked.”

He’s laughing again. You’re not sure if he thinks you’re funny or ridiculous. “I’m not going to pitch you for roles that require nudity.”

You are relieved. “Okay. Cool.”

“Where did you act before?”

“After college I did some short films for grad students…they’re all pretty terrible, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t write them…and I was in a bunch of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And I worked in the gift shop.”

“Guthrie?” Aegon says. “Like Woody Guthrie?”

“No, common mistake. A completely different Guthrie. Some English lord who was a director.”

“Which shows were you in?”

You describe your roles, all supporting, none leading: Romeo and Juliet, Othello, A Streetcar Named Desire, Pride and Prejudice, Julius Caesar, Anastasia, Frankenstein, August: Osage County, Richard III, Dracula. Aegon listens but he watches you too, the way you stride in your TOMS wedges over the cracked and uneven sidewalk, the way you use your hands too much when you talk, a habit you’re trying to break. His eyes on you—that deep and tumultuous blue—do not feel like a leer, and you think you’ve acquired enough experience in your past three months in Los Angeles to know the difference. Aegon’s gaze is no longer disinterested but methodical, practiced, ever-seeking, notes transcribed not in ink but electrical impulses and ineffable cyclones of neurotransmitters.

“Dracula,” Aegon jokes. “Vampire experience, huh? Maybe we could get you in the Twilight reboot.”

“Is that really happening?”

“It is, but it’s going to be animated. So it’s only voice acting. And I think we can aim higher than that.” He pauses at an intersection and looks lost for a few seconds, then remembers the way and bears to the right. This street is busier, hectic with shops and pedestrians, teenagers on skateboards, vendors advertising their fruit smoothies and boba teas. Red banners printed with twisted dragons and Chinatown 2025 hang from the streetlights. Towering palm trees cast shadows in the shape of windblown leaves. “Do you get along with your roommate?”

This is a random question. You finish your Perrier and discard the glass bottle in a trashcan. “Yeah, she’s really nice, we’re friends. Why?”

“Good. Housing instability is a huge source of stress for young actors, just wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger of ending up sleeping under a bridge.”

“I might be if her boyfriend ever gets a job and can pay half of the rent.”

“Well if it happens, let me know. I can help get you set up somewhere.” Aegon yanks his phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time. “We’ve got a few more minutes to kill,” he says, and ducks into a market strewn with crates of produce: bitter melon, bok choy, pears, pomelos, dragon fruit, peaches, plums, durian, sweet potatoes, kumquats, lychees. You follow after Aegon as he weaves through narrow, crowded aisles, inspecting the wares and waving to shopkeepers that he recognizes. He asks you as he points to a dozen cardboard boxes overflowing with apples: “Does this make you homesick for Appletown?”

“Apple Valley,” you correct him, laughing. “And not quite. I’d rather have Venice Beach.”

“What’s the state apple of Minnesota?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out.” He uses his phone to Google it. “Honeycrisp.”

“Oh neat! Those are pretty good.”

“Are they?” He searches until amongst the Granny Smiths and Fujis and Golden Delicious apples he finds a box labelled Honeycrisp. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”

“Now’s your chance.”

Aegon picks up a large, glossy apple, pinkish-red and striped with yellow, and takes a massive bite. Juice dribbles down his mouth and chin; he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I’m going to pay for it,” he assures you when you look startled. He chews, deliberating. “This apple sucks. This is a flop apple.”

“You are blinded by your anti-Minnesota prejudice.”

“It’s boring.”

“How can an apple be boring?”

“It’s like…too sweet. Not tart enough. Not as good as a Braeburn or a Pink Lady. Here.” Aegon tosses the Honeycrisp apple and you catch it. Then, when you stare at the sizeable bitemark he’s left in the fruit: “Wait, I mean, you don’t have to eat that part, obviously. Try the other side—”

But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

Aegon watches you for a while before he speaks. In the meantime, you finish eating the apple with quick chomps. “Are you medicated?” he says.

“What? No, why?”

“You just seem…I don’t know. Bizarrely happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m in Los Angeles, I’m living the dream, I have a brand new agent. My life is amazing.”

“Okay,” Aegon says uncertainly; but he’s smiling. When you pitch the apple core back to him, he catches it. Then he grabs a plastic bag off a hook and drops one fresh Honeycrisp apple inside. “We’ll let Brando be the tiebreaker.” He shows two fingers to a shopkeeper and pays in cash. You steal a glimpse of your phone; it’s just after 11:00 a.m.

Down the street from the market is a set of steps leading into what appears to be a basement. Instead, when Aegon opens the red door, on the other side is a restaurant already filling up with patrons. The tables are round and covered with crimson tablecloths; at each seat is one of those paper Chinese zodiac calendars with all twelve animals and their descriptions.

“Good morning Mr. Aegon!” a tall middle-aged waitress says warmly and ushers you both to a table by a large fish tank with opalescent pebbles lining the bottom. From the other side of the glass, colossal black-and-orange oscars gawp menacingly. The waitress passes you a menu.

“No,” Aegon says, snatching the menu out of your hands before you can open it. “Order what you’d normally get.”

Obediently, you turn to the waitress. “Do you have moo goo gai pan?”

She nods. “White rice or fried rice?”

“White rice, please.”

“Mr. Aegon?” the waitress says.

“Boneless spare ribs with fried rice. And a pot of tea, and two wanton soups. Thanks, Lanying.”

She hurries away to tend to other customers. You ask Aegon playfully: “Did I make the right choice?”

“You did. Naturally low-calorie but high in vitamins and protein. If you’d ordered the sesame chicken and only taken two bites I’d know that you probably have an eating disorder. But now I’m optimistic.”

“And you got the most unhealthy thing on the menu. What does that mean?”

“Life is short. I try to keep it delicious.” He taps the side of the fish tank; one of the oscars attempts to maul him through the glass. “Do you exercise?”

“Not by choice. I force myself to walk to and from work, and that’s the best I can do.”

Aegon seems alarmed. “I don’t think you should be wandering all over Harbor Gateway. Especially not at night.”

“There are always other people around.”

“Yeah, and some of them might mug you.” The waitress arrives with a pot of tea and two small, handleless cups. Aegon fills both with tea, slides one to you, and reaches for the little plastic container of sweeteners on the table. “Splenda?” Aegon guesses correctly and then flings several yellow packets across the table to you.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Aegon says. The waitress returns with two bowls of wanton soup and makes conversation with Aegon briefly. She inquires about his health, his parents, his business. You wait until she leaves to ask your question.

“Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you.

Aegon slurps broth from his spoon, stalling. He’s caught off-guard; you can tell by the way deep troubled grooves appear in his brow. That’s part of being a good actor. You have to learn how to read people until you can feel their emotions as if they are your own, until you can mimic them so convincingly your own pulse quickens or your stomach drops. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

“And you’re not even that good of an agent.”

He laughs and shakes his head, just watching you, just trying to figure you out. He looks down at his Chinese zodiac calendar. “What are you?”

“I’m a dragon.”

Aegon reads aloud: “You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. I could see that. Kinda sounds like you.”

“Which animal is yours, the horse?”

“Yeah, 1990.”

You study his description. “Popular and attractive to the opposite sex. You are often ostentatious and impatient. You need people. I don’t think you’re very ostentatious.”

“But no qualms with the other parts?”

“No, the rest seems accurate.”

He stares at you, those overcast blue eyes curious, searching, maybe a little puzzled. When the waitress brings out the entrees, Aegon spears a piece of his boneless spare ribs with his clean fork and offers it to you. “Here, you want to try this?”

You really shouldn’t, but you make an exception. You take his fork and eat: saccharine blood red sauce, glistening gelatinous fat. It’s one of the most delicious bites of food you’ve ever tasted…and then it’s gone. You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass.

You walk back through Chinatown together, Aegon swinging around his plastic bag with his Honeycrisp apple for Brandon, you listening as he tells you what each shop is known for and points out a temple dedicated to the goddess of the ocean. Now the sky is clear and the sun is high, and hot, and blinding when you aren’t under the shade of awnings or palm trees.

You say cheerfully once you have returned in Elysian Park and you can see Aegon’s office, a blue neon sign that reads Targ Talent Agency pulsing in the window: “So do you have any fun plans for Father’s Day?”

“Nope. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh my God.” You’re so mortified you almost trip over your own feet, your TOMS wedges stumbling over the pavement. Aegon instinctively reaches out to steady you, and you grasp his hand gratefully. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was in college so I’m used to it.”

“He must have been young.” Forties? Fifties?

“Yeah,” Aegon says shortly, letting go of you. “Are you doing anything special?”

“My parents are paying to fly me back to Minnesota. But I won’t be gone long, I promise. It’s just a few days.”

Aegon smirks roguishly. “Going to make time to see that ex-boyfriend while you’re there?”

You smile, a little bashful, a little mischievous. “I might.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy. Don’t get pregnant and ruin all your hopes and dreams.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can’t take the pill because it made me suicidally depressed but we use condoms.”

Aegon is bewildered, his jaw hanging open. “You don’t overshare like this in auditions, do you?”

“No, sorry, I thought you were asking me a question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a comment.”

“Oh. I thought it was a question.”

He shakes his head and stops at the 2003 Honda Accord—painted in a shade called Desert Mist Metallic—parked curbside, a gift from your parents when you went away to college only to return in disgrace with a Theater Arts degree that they lie to their friends about. From one of the nearby houses, you can hear Take It Easy by The Eagles drifting out into the sun-drenched street. “Is this your ride?”

“Yup! This is me.”

“Well I’m going to make some calls and see what I can get you, and I’ll let you know either way in a few days how it’s going. Brandon has your phone number and headshots…and I can find your acting reels on YouTube if I need them…yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay?”

“Okay. I hope you get the star.”

Again, you have confused him. “What?”

“In the Mario game. The one on the eel’s tail.”

Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

“Aegon?” you call after him. At the top of the concrete steps, he pauses and turns around. Here in the shadowless midday light, you are overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s difficult to speak without your voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

He opens the door and disappears inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guess who has an agent?!” you announce ecstatically as you burst into the apartment. Baela and Jace are in the living room on the velvet orange couch, eating sushi and watching True Blood on the 40-inch flatscreen television that Baela’s parents bought for her.

“Congratulations!” Baela says from the couch. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

“Is he nice?” Baela asks, meaning your new agent.

“I think so,” you say thoughtfully. You aren’t sure that nice is the right word. “He’s kind of weird and grumpy. But I really like him.”

“Is he old?”

“Not at all. Aegon’s thirty-five.”

“Ew,” Baela says. “Old.”

“I really like him,” you say again, smiling to yourself without realizing you’re doing it.

Baela groans. “Please don’t be one of those girls who fucks their agent.”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s engaged to someone super gorgeous. They’re getting married in September.”

“Huh,” Baela replies, losing interest now. Her eyes have drifted back to the tv. She hasn’t landed a role as a film lead or a series regular yet, but she’s been working steadily since she got to L.A. and her star is ever-rising. Tomorrow she is auditioning for Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. She’s not allowed to tell you anything about the script. It’s a secret; it’s an honor.

You go to the kitchen for a drink and stop when your gaze catches on the calendar affixed to the stainless steel refrigerator with plastic magnets shaped like pineapples. Friday, June 20th is circled with red ink; in the box below, you have scrawled the necessary details.

Baela twists around on the couch and sees you. Her voice is gentle; she knows you’re nervous. “When’s your appointment?”

“Next week.”

“You’re really getting sliced up?” Jace says.

You smirk at him, less than appreciative. “It’s just a consultation. But yeah, probably.”

“You scared?” Jace asks, gnawing on a pod of edamame.

Obviously. You sigh. “I think it has to happen if I want to land roles.”

“I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery yet,” Baela says, not meaning to sound smug.

You murmur as you ponder the time and address written in red on the calendar: “Well nobody is saying you need to.” You’ve had no less than ten people suggest implants outright, and far more have implied it. Aegon is the only person you can think of who dismissed the idea summarily…and that includes your parents. Your father has been emailing you doctor recommendations. He must think it’s a good investment for your post-California-detour life.

“It will give you more confidence,” Baela says as she turns back to the tv. “A little extra something to take you to the next level.”

You stare at her forlornly from the kitchen. You are suddenly very aware that you miss being outside: the sun, the heat, the swaying palm trees, the radiant kinetic potential. “That’s part of the problem? My confidence?”

She shrugs, using her chopsticks to dunk a piece of her tuna roll in a small plastic container of spicy mayo. She seems oblivious to how deflated you are. “It’s just so hard to stand out here, you know? The phrase ‘California dime’ exists for a reason.”

Jace glances at you over the back of the couch. “I think you look fine.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“I think you’re easily a California nickel.”

“That’s super sweet, Jace.”

Now Baela is telling him to shut up and they’re bickering back and forth, but you aren’t listening. You take your phone out of your purse and open Instagram. You search for Aegon and find his account; his username is superstargaryen. You follow him. Within a minute, just long enough for you to click through one of his highlight reels—mostly pictures of the beach and trips to In-N-Out Burger—he follows you back. Then you receive a DM.

Aegon has typed: Brando says the apple is good

You giggle to yourself as you tap out a reply. Told you :)

Aegon responds: Or!!! All Minnesotans have no taste

And then he adds a few seconds later: I had to Google that word…Minnesotans…sounds fake

You reply: Please use Google to get me a job instead

He starts typing something, then stops and reacts with a laughing emoji instead. You pull a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge, wondering what he was going to say before he changed his mind.

Late that night, after a nine-hour shift at Cold Stone Creamery, you shower and crawl exhausted into bed wearing an oversized blue L.A. Dodgers t-shirt that you’re swimming in. You turn on your laptop and open YouTube, search for Aegon’s acting reels from ten years ago, fall asleep listening to his voice like the endless ethereal rush when you hold a seashell to your ear.

[witchyliterature]

just saw the valentines event ooo

aizawa with “can’t get you” by jaehyun 💗

a million times yes!! (btw this song is so fucking good omg) gosh lowkey had fun writing this but wtv, i hope you like it, sorry it’s quite long 🙁 (2.4k words…) but yeah! gender neutral pronouns and no mention of any anatomy or anything like that. reader is hella cheery and giggly. mention of age gap and mention of hawks bc i love him. i use first names for everyone bc like idk makes it more intimate (maybe im crazy idk). fluff only, lots of mentions of aizawa being old(and one all might old joke) (also implied all might x inko sos thought it was funny)i think that’s it, if you really don’t like this or wasn’t really what you thought it was don’t hesitate to tell me and i will happily rewrite! just put it in the requests so i can see it ❤️ thank you for this again!!!

can’t get you; shouto aizawa

in which this old man cannot stop fawning over you and your glow, you’re stuck on his mind and etched into his soul - thank goodness his friends can help him finally confess.

glimmering rays peaked through class 2A’s windows, the summer heat circulating through the room making the students and their teacher groggy alike. the petals of cherry blossoms could be caught wafting around aimlessly, as if looking for a host to reside on. the chirps from the birds indicated that it was an early morning, their melodies playing a symphony for U.A.

shouta wanted so badly to crawl into his sleeping bag, but he knew that he, at least, had to get through one lesson before rewarding his fatigued body.

“the science behind your quirks is very important for executing them, for instance, someone like-“

a knock from the door interrupted him, he looked from his position into the sliver of glass in the door, only to see you.

shouta freezed up at your appearance, why were you are his door? is this it? are you coming here because you feel the same way he does? does he smell? do his classmates smell?

as his head filled with uncharacteristically ridiculous notions, you had already opened the door, saying a quick hi to his students, you were always cheerful like that, never failing to flash a smile and a wave to anyone.

that smile has been ingrained into his being, if you were to rip out his heart and dissect it, the matter of his soul would be like a mosaic of you, fragments your of that included your smile, your eyes, your cute yet hard to miss laugh. shouta’s mind was a documentary about you, one that he binged religiously in hopes of reliving his desire to be with you, even if it’s only for a minute, even if it’s only a figment of his imagination.

“-outa? hello, did you hear me?” you laughed, snapping him out of his daily programmed thoughts of you.

“h-huh? y-yeah sorry, what did you say?” shouta slightly stuttered, a small blush on his cheeks which he hide as he turned his head away in embarrassment.

i mean, for god sakes he was damn near forty and was blushing heavily because you were standing a little too close for comfort. he’s acting like he’s 16 again, but even then, he never acted like this around anyone else.

you really were special to him.

“i was just asking if i could take some paper for 3A, we’re doing a mind map project!” you asked, already making your way to his drawers on the side - you knew shouta would say yes, he’s never said no to you.

“yeah sure, do what you want. you baby that class too much though, they should be patrolling.” shouta feigned nonchalance, even though he would run the ends of the earth just to give you anything you’ve ever wanted.

“oh stop! i want them to be comfortable with their identity as a hero first before going onto the streets.” you giggled, a wad of A3 sheets in your arms now.

“you damn hippie, by the time they get onto the streets, they’ll be too lazy to do anything.” shouta sighed, while he respected you as a teacher and the love of his life with an ethereal face, gorgeous body and flamboyant personality that contrasts his doom and gloom, he truly was worried of the third years not understanding the importance of patrolling with you prolonging it.

“it’s not like they’ve never patrolled, i still make them do it once a week. it’s just, an incident happened with one of the students which made them lose their confidence in their skills. so i’m making them do a self love mind map!” you beamed.

shouta starred at you, amazed at your emotional intelligence and your ability to make everyone feel better within seconds. maybe that was your quirk, being the face of positivity and making old men become love sick fools that would kiss your feet.

“wow y/n! you’re so cool!” ashido laughed out.

“we never get to do anything like that!” grumbled denki.

“literally all we do it’s train.” hanta sighed

“i wanna be as positive as you when im a hero!” izuku called out.

“silly, you guys already are hero’s!” you giggled.

“stop making this so positive, they’ll get complacent and think that this is the peak of hero life.” shouta grumbled, pretending that your radiance wasn’t the reason he fell for you in the first place.

“you grumpy old man! anyways, i need to go before my class starts causing mayhem, bye 2A, bye shouta.” you smiled before leaving the class, shouta’s eyes never once leaving you as you walked away.

his heart was beating faster than ever before, his hands became clammy as hell- fuck, was it that hot in here? he’s now tugging on the cloth around his neck.

“sir, you’re blushing like crazy.” denki giggles, causing the class to start laughing at their teacher.

shouta turns more red in response, rolling his eyes to cover his embarrassment but his students could see right through them.

“shut up y/n- wait, i mean-“ sadly, after he said that, it was over for him.

the class’s laughter rose to volumes even present mic couldn’t reach, with a mixture of whistling and ‘oooh’s thrown in to further taunt him.

“quiet down.” shouta used to his quirk, his eyes turning red and his hair flying around.

the class immediately quieted down, they know that shouta was not the one to be played with.

shouta, kayama, yagi and yamada sat in the staff room, the three of them joking about whatever nonsense their kids were up to while shouta stayed listening, pretending to annoyed by the chatter while a small smile rested on his face.

“-and then, out of no where, young bakugou punches young midoriya, and i was just shocked because where the hell did he even come from?!” yagi’s face looked dripped in stress as he told this story, kayama and yamada laughing along heartily while shouta chuckled softly as he remembered that story.

“lord, class 2A sure is something! i honestly thought something naughty was going on between them.” kayama smirks as she says that.

“dude what, they literally go at each other heads all the time! ever since they came back from summer holidays, izuku has been hurling back all of katsuki’s insults!” yamada rebutted.

“enemies to lovers, bully to lovers and rivals to lovers is all im hearing right now!” kayama says in a sing-song tone.

“trust me, if you want something that may happen, you should look between young uraraka and young midoriya” yagi says with a lower tone.

they all (minus shouta whose been knowing this would happen) gasped.

“you guys haven’t noticed? izuku always starts blushing like hell and stuttering anytime ochako comes around him.” shouta adds on.

“i’ve never noticed it!” kayama says disappointedly.

“it’s hilarious, she could come up and say hi and he freezes up while looking down at his work or some shit.” shouta laughs.

“who freezes up?” you came out of nowhere.

shouta freezes up again, it’s honestly like he can’t escape you from both his mind and real life.

a pink dust starts sprinkling itself on his cheeks as he looks straight ahead, not trusting himself to look at your beautiful face without having a full on panic attack.

“u-um we were just talking about izuku and ochako.” shouta mutters while leaning back in his chair, pretending he was simply relaxing instead of panicking over you speaking to him.

yagi, yamada and kayama all look at each other before starring between the two of you, looking at shouta suspiciously with his sudden ‘wannabe cool boy’ demeanour.

“oh! not to be a gossip but you wouldn’t believe the things i’ve heard about them.” you giggled, talking a seat. next to shouta.

you were so close, your mouth was practically next to your ear (you were not that close, he’s just imagining things).

“well you better spill!” yamada cackled.

“you’re so loud.” shouta rolled his eyes.

“i think it’s nice how loud he is, no room for confusion!” you smiled, there you go again, making the best out of everything.

shouta looked at you, smiling at you as you spoke about how you heard about some party and izuku taking ochako somewhere or whatever, he really didn’t care for that, seeing you speak with so much passion, joy and compassion really just made him fall in love with you even more.

“but who knows?” you innocently say as if you didn’t drop the biggest development for the izuocha-teacher-movement.

“young midoriya has game!” yagi laughed

“you’re an old man, respect yourself.” shouta replied.

“he’s right though, i didn’t know he had it in him to make a move at a party nonetheless!” kamaya smiled.

“well anyways, i really want to try this lunch place, will anyone come with me?” you asked.

“i will.” shouta said almost immediately which didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“are you sure? it’s quite far and i don’t have my car so you would have to drive.” you mentioned, knowing that shouta was lazy as hell. getting him to do a task not listed in his job requirements usually needs an army.

“it’s fine, i’ll go anywhere with you.” shouta spoke softly, causing everyone, including you, to look at him skeptically.

“shit, as in, well- i just meant that uh…” shouta fumbled over his words, his face turning even redder than before. he truly believes this is karma for making fun of izuku.

“alright honey, i’ll meet you by your car in 10 minutes, still got a few things to set out.” you laughed it off.

shouta’s eyes widened at the nickname and stared at your figure as you walked off, admiring your every move as though you were magnetic, his heart beating ferociously with every step you took.

“ok, now, what was that!?” yamada asked demandingly as soon as you were out of sight.

“oh my god, you’re so loud.” shouta deflected.

“you aren’t getting out of this one aizawa sensei, you’re in love with them!” kamaya’s eyes glistened as she said that.

“no i’m not, can a man not have friends?” shouta sighed and lied like nobody’s business.

“LMAO, nice one, you defo wanna bang them sho!” yamada teased, causing shouta to blush like crazy.

“i’m actually just speechless, i’ve never seen you get so… pathetic.” yagi stifled a chuckled.

“who the hell are you calling pathetic? do you not remember the incident with izuku’s mom?” shouta smirked.

“my bad.” yagi kept silent as the others looked at him skeptically once more.

“we will definitely come to that later, but gosh can we get back to how he was blushing like crazy when they first came!” kamaya spoke with an amazed tone.

“oo! or when he stuttered and stared at them the whole time?” yamada added on.

“or even when he said ‘ill go anywhere with you’ as though they were leaving forever?” yagi cackled.

“you guys are annoying, i don’t like them or whatever you guys think. i think of them just like anyone else would.” shouta replied, rolling his eyes.

“alright then, hawks did mention wanting to ask them out. makes sense as well, they are more closer in age than you two are.” yamada smugly replies.

“what? where did you hear this?” shouta replied instantly, his eyes widening.

“LOL got you!” yamada laughed loudly.

“yeah alright whatever, you chronically online fool.” shouta huffed out in annoyance.

“you should ask them out! they are always talking about you anyways.” yagi advises.

“they do?” shouta looked at yagi curiously.

“yeah, always asking what you’re doing or just mentioning you in conversation. i tried to ask if they were into you flat out but they deflected the question so i dropped it.” yagi continues.

shouta looks straight ahead of him, his brows furrowing in confusion as he thought about what yagi was implying.

did you, want him?

fuck, just thinking about it makes his heart swell and turns the background chatter into a cheesy romcom song.

“look at how you’re blushing! come on, it’s clearly that you’re both into each other so ask them out! for once you can spend valentines with someone that’s isn’t a cat.” kamaya giggled.

“i enjoy my single life thank you very much, but i will ask them out.” shouta replied.

the three of them started cheering for him as he thought deeper about what was about to happen, in 10 minutes, you could either be his or a forced distant memory.

fuck, he really was too old for this shit.

you two finally arrived to the place, it was a fancy ramen place that looked as though it would be more popular during the night scene - however this made it so now, during the day, it was practically empty, more intimate.

honestly, it was like the universe was just egging him on.

even the interior had romantic undertones, with all the valentines decorations and romance inspired special dishes plastered everywhere that he lowkey wanted to try with you.

you both took your seat in a booth across from one another and you took a look at the menu already set out in front of you on your table.

“this place would be lovely for a date.” you hummed out cheerily

shouta looked at you confusingly, what the hell was that supposed to mean?

was this a date?

“well, if you want it to be then..” you answered back bashfully.

“shit, i didn’t mean to say that out loud. wait, what?” shouta was processing too many things at once.

“y/n, are you… do you..?” shouta couldn’t find the words to say it but you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“depends on how you feel about me.” you leaned forward onto the table, more confidence slipping into your system even though you were a nervous wreck on the inside.

shouta’s eyes widened upon realisation, his breathing quickened slightly as he took in everything happening. this was it, this was the moment he dreamed for, this was his opening to finally get the dream - no - reality that was now within reach.

“alright, well here goes.” shouta clears his throat and puts down his menu, you follow suit.

“y/n, i’m gonna be honest here, you’re someone i cannot stop thinking about. it’s like, you’re in my system or something, it’s annoying as hell but i’m not all that bothered. i like thinking about you, you make me feel… i don’t know what the word is but it’s new, fresh and beautiful. i guess i’ve been into you for a while, which i think has been quite obvious and you’re honestly the only person i’ve ever felt like this for, so im not completely sure what im doing here. but when im with you, you make me feel fuzzy and warm and all the weird things that make you happy and shit. i guess, what im trying to say is that i… love you y/n. probably have for a good year or so. so, please, it would be my pleasure to take you out on a date or something.” shouta spilled all of his feelings in front of you, leaving you shocked with his proclamation.

shouta’s heart was there on a platter, beating violently as the inscribed words that he had just spoken out were spilled out like ancient secrets.

you reached over the table, grabbing his cloth to pulled him closer to you and pressed his lips onto yours, all in a flash.

at first, it was still, you both were absorbing each others warmth, until shouta finally started moving, his lips guiding yours as they stayed stuck onto one another. almost as though your lips were two opposite poles that stayed stuck together.

your lips matched perfectly, fitting like two puzzle pieces intricately designed to only accept each others shape. everything felt so right, the same feeling you get when you fit the last block in a wooden box - completion.

the sound of lips smacking as shouta gently put his hand of your face, both your eyes fully close and immersing in the moment.

after a hearty moment, you pulled away slowly whilst opening your eyes. shouta’s eyes were half lidded and drunk on you.

“i love you too shouta, my favourite grump.” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes in response but smiled because finally, everything was in place.

he got you out of his system, and into reality. you were finally his and his only.

[brotherwtf]

OOPS for sender to accidentally send receiver a risqué image, for fantasy AU

this is silly bcs I can totally see Gale daydreaming about John having his way with him and forgetting that John can straight up read his thoughts

Gale maybe not knowing that John is awake and he's thinking about John, thinking about how much he secretly is obsessed with him, obsessed that John can read Gale so wholly and completely understand him, obsessed that John literally went out of his way to save him, risking his job and his life just for him, hey it's kind of giving him a boner let's be so honest

but maybe Gale has this recurring fantasy/memory of John rescuing him, him coming into the cell with a ring of light around him, panting and slightly shimmering from sweat and hey idk why this memory is in slow mo but Gale is lazer focused on John's body and then John rescues him and releases his shackles and hey guess what! instead of Gale being hesitant he straight up pulls John to the ground and begs him to fuck him then and there

basically the image of Gale getting fucked on the floor of his cell is running through Gale's head when John wakes up, and maybe John can't really control what he reads when he first wakes, so he kind of gets a full blast of Gale's fantasy right in the morning and he turns over to see Gale cool as a cucumber, maybe biting his lip a lil bit as he imagines the most risquè and horny images John has ever seen

and of course who is John to deny Gale such a vivid request? so basically John just turns over and kisses Gale immediately, pressing him to the ground with his arms and while Gale is shocked he's certainly not complaining about being kissed like this, especially not after his fantasy

"you know I can read your thoughts, right Gale?" John asks, a little breathless from kisses and he can see Gale flush bright red, turning his head to the side and biting his lip, covering his eyes with his hands

"it's alright, doll, honestly I'm flattered, but you don't gotta keep this to yourself," John says and then proceeds to reenact the scene that Gale was envisioning (did Gale plant the scene in his brain for John to see? maybe, maybe not, we'll never know)

[1goatman1]

I WILL TRY??? IM SO BAD AT ARTICULATING MY FEELINGS AND IM RUNNING ON NO SLEEP BUT HERE WE GO MY THOUGHTS ON FUUTA it got a bit long so. under the cut

the thing that drew me to him (and got me into milgram as a whole) in the first place was the fact that his songs go absolutely insanely hard. and theyre exactly my taste in music

hes an angry little guy and i am drawn to angry characters like a moth to a fucking flame, i have NO idea why, its facinating to me

hes red KJASDHFKJHASGDFKHJ my fav colour....

i think the fact that. i can SEE I CAN SO SEE HOW HE IS WHEN HES IN A GOOD MINDSET. because i dont think EVEN IN BRING IT ON hes in a good mindset i think hes in a not great place in bring it on he just doesnt really realise/acknowledge it. but i can SEE how he would be when happy and the fact we never really see that makes me insane

that paired with the fact that That Happens in trial 2 and we see him so broken and so so afraid which is SO unlike him hes usually hiding his fear behind 100 layers of anger like in his first voice drama it just did something to me and now i have like this primal urge to protect him KJHASGDFKJA

ive always been drawn to characters that deflect/bottle up like crazy

that being said hes also like a feral dog to me and he makes me a feral dog when i see him

he had ISSUES growing up with his parents (dad) which im normal over

HES A LITTLE BROTHER????? i go insane.

im repeating my points but he hides everything behind layers of anger because he thinks that makes him look stronger and it makes him FEEL tougher but really hes terrified

like hes an adult(not really) hes 20 and if i was like 15 when i got into milgram id be like yeah ok hes an adult hes a bit like. thats a weird way for an adult to act ngl even if i am a sucker for the angry characters. but the fact im HIS AGE puts him more as a kid in my eyes because lets be real 20 is still super young. and the whole. hiding his fear behind anger thting is just SUCH a child thing to do to me and i think that just makes me want to protect him MORE

that paired with the fact in the trial 2 interrogation he says the person he wants to see the most is his MOTHER???????? and iirc he says it using a really childish uhh dialect(? idk the word) im insane. hes just a boy in way over his head help me

he also says he just wants something to rely on AUUUUU I CAN HELP HIM I CAN MAKE HIM BETTER I JUST KNOW ITTTTT

my love for him is a healthy mix between wanting to protect/help him, relating to him just a little, and him just being like. if you got every character i ever liked and made the "perfect" character for me it would be fuuta SJFHGSAKDFGASJKD

all that being said i love love love how nice he becomes to mahiru after kotoko happens. trauma bonding frfr. im so excited (scared) to see his reaction to uh. That. in trial 3

WITH SHIDOU TOO i think T3 shidou + mahiru will break him a little bit which will just make me wanna help him even more

hes SO SO NICE BUT LIKE. DOESNT SHOW IT???? in t1 interrogation he says harukas young so he takes care of him (plus when he completely 180s on that in trial 2, AUGH im hurt), + what i just talked about with mahiru, hes really actually nice but he just. puts on a front so it doesnt look it.

i also think hes not actually THAT uhh aggressive with like. "people who do bad things are scum" i think he just played it up to fit in with his friends and then at some point he forgot he was playing it up if that makes sense.

playing off of THAT i have like 0 evidence for this but i know in my heart he didnt really have any friends at uni and when he started to kinda become friends with the group from bring it on he like changed himself to fit perfectly with them and it backfired horribly i just KNOW IT i have NO EVIDENCE but it HAPPENED TRUST ME . and that makes me insane also

anyways. im repeating the same points over and over so.

oh i think hes adorable too cant forget that. pretty boy

and he triggers my cuteness aggression like no one else does okay im done now JKHSGFDJKASDFA

Guys, please help me out, I wanna see something here!

If possible, can you guys tell me your favourite Milgram prisoners and list out all the reasons why you love love love love love them so much, as many and detailed as you can? (Appearance features that stand out to you; Personality; Character Quirks; etc etc. Everything you can think of!!!)

Thank you so much! 🙇✨

[rekhaa]

P.S. Whoops, one more thing — about that feeling that you’re “not good enough to work in a bakery” because they didn’t call you back. That’s not the right way to look at this. Most jobs have multiple applicants for one slot. When one person gets hired to fill that one slot, that doesn’t mean that everyone else who applied “wasn’t good enough.” It means that the employer had one slot, and they’re only hiring one person for it, so as a result, many qualified people will be rejected; that’s the case for every job opening. You can’t take it personally or as a reflection on you. It has nothing to do with you — it’s just math.

ask a manager

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

OMG so glad people are talking abt azrael 1995 i have sooo many thoughts about it. Denny O’Neil has worked on so many amazing comics, but Azrael 95 is like his little personal project and there’s so much weird shit that occurs narratively and thematically that makes me wonder abt the guy sometimes.

On the topic of Batman being a POS to Azrael, at least part of that is because O’Neil probably needed to get Azrael out on his own. If he had Batman agree to go with JPV to fight the order of st Dumas, the comic would be Batman, fighting the order of st Dumas, instead of Azrael. But it definitely gets kind of excessive. And it doesn’t explain why he can’t like.. train JPV off “camera” so to speak or in the background or even in a mini. Batman often comes across like he just hates JPV. I personally read this as a consequence of JPV being a reminder of his weakest point in Bruce’s life since his parents died: Batman at his most vulnerable. And also a reminder of his fallacy of judgement w Azbats of course. Also, the ‘lesson’ of Knightfall kind of fails within Azrael: Batman frees JPV to discover his own identity and find himself outside the Batman mantle, he literally lets JPV walk away from the alternative, jail: and JPV ends up in a homeless shelter and spends the rest of Azrael 95 still trying to figure out who he is, never quite succeeding for long. It can be taken as an meta ironic play on the fact that how Batman’s identical lesson he receives from Knightfall continues to be rehashed arc after arc event after event, Bruce never really learns his lesson either: he’s always pushing someone away, he’s always falling too far into the Bat mantle and trying to do everything on his own. Neither ‘learn their lesson’ and so Batmans apparent hatred of JPV could be taken as a disgust and uncomfortableness with this fact.

The whole ‘greatest mistake’ but is so funny to me because because it’s such a common way that Batman referred to JPV and making JPV Batman during Knightfall I literally made a joke drawing when Jason came back to life and Bruce called him his worst mistake instead, with JPV holding a mug that said: “Batman’s Second Worst Mistake”. Would post it but I don’t have it rn unfortunately. Point is you’re so so right.

I really really recommend reading Knightfall by the way, I know it’s like 72 issues but it’s so so good. The BBC Radio Drama is a good substitute tho, a lot of the dialogue is ripped straight from the comics, but it misses a few moments.

JPV could technically return to school, you’re so right, and It’s strange that it doesn’t really come up so much. And I hadn’t really thought about why he doesn’t. Even when he has like his ‘lol I’m going to be normal and not Azrael arc’ I don’t think he talks about returning to grad school. Could be forgetting tho.

A Lot of details about Jean Paul and his “civilian” life make no fucking sense. Idk if youve read NML yet, but a lot of those inconsistencies start to shine through there, which is super strange given I’m pretty sure Denny O’Neil was writing those issues too. Basically, we get indications that JPV never had a “normal” life, despite his computer grad apparent civilian life and pretty average behavior v early on in Sword of Azrael. (Vague bc I’m Trying not to spoil in case you haven’t read the issue I’m thinking of here) Which is so weird. Honestly one of the things I think Rebirth did well was how they retconned these aspects of Azraels character into one clear story which encapsulated them both.

I'm reading the OG run of Azrael (1995) by Denny O'Neil and honestly Batman/Bruce just irks me in a way I really didn't expect. I'm reading issue #36 and my biggest gripe is...why doesn't he teach him?Like legitimately why doesn't he teach him, or atleast send him to someone who could. That just feels so obvious to me.

It's obvious JPV is a danger to himself and others, and it's obvious Bruce's initial plan of just....giving him the mantal without any help and extremely minimal training wouldn't work but even if he says he doesn't blame JPV um????? You sure aren't acting like it???? Seriously that guy needs an ACTUAL therapist (and no, Brian doesn't count when he so obviously needs his own mental help). He is traumatized, extremely repressed, and is being actively manipulated by Lilhy and I'm just.....MAN.

People say Jason is his greatest mistake but honestly I think it might be tied with JPV at this point, bc unlike Jason (I may be wrong, haven't read Under the Red Hood yet), Bruce has so. many. chances. It's so obvious Jean-Paul looks up to him, he wants to do something good and I get he wasn't Bruce's responsibility, but I do think after Bruce took him into vigilanteism he has an obligation to help. He took those lessons to heart and made them vital parts of himself, that he had to help people and he had to go out in order to do that.

Like JPV had a life. He was getting a degree in computer science for christ's sake. Why didn't Bruce just...let him go back to that? (Tbf i may be misinformed on that last part , I did not read the Knightfall saga I listened to the radio drama instead when I found out there was one.) But seriously. He's rich. Just...get him a psychologist and leave him alone.

[evasive-anon]

Let Danny’s Parents Be Criminals

I hate the reveal gone wrong trope in the dpxdc fandom because we know Jack and Maddie end up supporting Danny and Dani in the end. His parents have some major flaws but wanting to torture their actual child isn’t one. What they are guilty of is going way too hard on any plan they cook up without thinking of the consequences.

If I were writing a dpxdc fic and I wanted Danny in adoptable status I’d just have Jack and Maddie in jail on charges of domestic terrorism after they killed off GIW agents and destroyed the GIW’s bases. They realized their ghost kids were in potential danger and went at the government the same way they went at ghosts, guns blazing and with reckless driving.

They end up in federal prison and they Vlad wins custody cause he’s rich and there is your runaway Danny plot starter.

[bizarrelovesquare]

the couple of all time and the girlboss duo we didn't know we needed

[lazylittledragon]

right now i'm very torn between "taking critique is important as an artist and it's not an attack on me personally" and "people commenting about my same face syndrome under my posts upsets me an unreasonable amount and i wish they would stop doing it"

[starscr0ss]

im thinking about celestia and the abyss being literal opposites (chaos and order) and im thinking about childe and lumine being sort of embodiments of that, just not in the way we think. after the latest natlan quest its clear to us what the fatui intends and what they want- i think the tsaritsa more than anything loves humanity, which is why she directly opposes celestia who are known for bringing down different civilizations. childe, as Her weapon and Her blade is an extenction of that: he's a blade forged by the abyss, bathed in Her holyness, meant to strike down those who sin. lumine (talking solely about traveler lumine) is the literal sister of the prince of the abyss, she has clear ties to it and at this point in the story still is hesitant about fully opposing him (i love angst). her entire story revolves around chaose and disrupting celestia's (and the fatui's) order. isnt that fun

i think what childe longs for the most is control- control of himself, his life, his powers, his story, his fate. i think what lumine wants the most is freedom, which is just another phacet of chaos

anyways. you see it. the themes are theming

[empyreansentinel]

never understood why jack had a portrait of moxxi up in his casino. the place went under after BL2, and at that point they hadnt been together for years. and its not like what they had together was particularly happy or long lasting, either. they were together for maybe a month before breaking up pre-TPS, and thats not even mentioning what happens between them during the game itself, so... maybe its a trophy? it doesnt feel like one when theres also one of angel. but its all i really got because presumably hes been in a much happier relationship with nisha for years, even though the portrait does feel too sentimental for a woman hes hated for the past Forever. speaking of nisha, there's no portrait of her or his wives. which is doubly weird because surely theyd be here too if moxxi is. idk, moxxi and angel are just a strange pair to have it just be them. by themselves is fine, moxxi alone is easily a trophy. and imo its just weird for a portrait of angel to be in the casino in the first place. some secret siren, huh? but together? idk. it gives mixed messages.