#you don't have to remember as much useless nonsense

[thursdayg1rl]

to be honest kitten, non homogeneous second order linear differential equations are making daddy want to kill herself

[ash-says]

Hush Hush Honey:

A guide on how to regulate oversharing and balancing the conversation flow.

Each one of us has at least been in a situation where we accidentally ended up spilling more than we should. We do recognise the patterns but are unable to control ourselves. That's why your girl Ash-says is here to say a lot about it.

1) Find the why

What are you trying to achieve by sharing that piece of information? Drama? Attention? Get it off your chest? Is it important to inform them? Is it valuable to them?etc.

First tackle the why. Before you go in to reveal something ask yourself if it goes with the conversation flow and if yes is it really important to share it.

2) Are you a celebrity?

No like why? Who is interested in your life so much? Are those people paparazzi to broadcast your current events and bring you fame? No right. So shut up.

3) Who puts their dirty laundry on display?

When you overshare you are basically putting all your secrets, stuff that you do or did on blatant exposure. People are going to judge you. That's the very nature. So breathe and keep it inside.

4) Try to listen more

Train yourself into listening more than speaking especially in group settings or around people that you don't know much about. Gossip is real. You don't want to be the next tea time sensation.

5) Alternatives for talkative people:

Now I know you might be thinking can't say this can't say that then how the hell am I going to bond with people or what should I converse about?

I have developed a solution for you. It's Ash verified because I myself have been using it unknowingly for around 7 years of my life.

Never open your mouth for passing judgements, expressing your opinions on things that do not relate to you, your dirty laundry, secrets, family issues, relationship issues, your sex life, your goals and aspirations, your daily routine, your political standpoint,etc you get where I am going right?

Instead speak about the experiences you had while travelling somewhere, some goofy stuff that happened to you, your harmless vice for example: I am clumsy so I have a lot of incidents that occur due to it which can be told in a funny way. It adds a nuance to my perfectionist image plus helps people warm up to me. Movie shows, songs, etc here also there's a catch if you relate to a show/song/ piece of literature strongly never reveal it. The smart ones will understand the inner workings of your mind.

Never let them know your next move.

If nothing of this then goof around being nonsense. Do little hand gestures, funny faces if you are bored but never overshare.

6) Be mindful of interruption

Practise practise practise. Literally that's the only way. Try not to interrupt people while speaking. There's no roundabout way. It is what it is.

7) Be comfortable in silence

You have to be okay with the conversation dying down. Running your mouth dry will only result in one sided convo. It's more useless and harmful than the one mentioned before.

8) Know your limits

Fix in your brain what you can share and what you can't. Stick to it. Even over your dead body.

9) Be genuinely interested in people

Ask yourself are you asking questions to really get to know the other person or just looking for a chance to talk about yourself? Dethrone yourself first and then interact with others.

10) Put out stuff that you are over with

Always remember what you say can and will be used against you. Drill it and from next time when you speak be mindful that every word can stand against you. Do you have the capacity to handle the consequences? Yes then go ahead. No, then stop live streaming.

Bonus point: Be as private as possible on social media. People don't need to know what you are doing nowadays. Privacy is power. What they don't know they can't ruin.

Strategically put things out. I am not saying be inactive. In Rome you live like the Romans. Do it smartly.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[jeonscatalyst]

People say that JK benefits a lot from being the center of major ships in the fandom and I don't disagree that he benefits a little but I do think its overblown and I say this as someone who very heavily biases Jimin compared to the other members. Why I bring this is up is because I stumbled upon a yoonmin account today once again and in all my years of coming across yoonminers and I've found only a handful of genuine double biased among those shippers. For the rest Jimin is only there to token stan and use as Yoongi's cheerleader. Yoonminers are almost across the board completely useless for Jimin in terms of supporting him, his music, defending him against antis or even liking him as an individual outside of Yoongi - and I'm talking about people who ship yoonmin as their main not even about tkkrs who have yoonmin as some kind of 2-for-1 package. So yeah as someone who's seen how useless being token stanned by shippers is, I'd say the benefits JK gets are probably because those shippers might actually like him. And even then there's a lot of shippers - and here I include all ships incl jikook - who sometimes only like both people in relation to the ship and you will only see them consuming ship related material.

So all this to say I think the positive affect of having shippers on your side is a bit exaggerated. It's as useful as having kpop stans by your side. You'll get some more likes and buzz on social media but when it comes to music or any actual support, most of them are useless unless as I said the shipper originally liked the member beyond the context of the ship. JK gets a lot of social media clout from all his shippers, y/n's etc of course and that is useful in creating the image of popularity don't get me wrong but there's a ton of idols who have a lot of exaggerated support on social media but whose music streams are extremely disappointing or whose stans support is extremely shallow because they like them for a ship or just for their looks

Sorry it took ages to get to your ask anon.

I agree with your observation and I believe I have mentioned this before. Many people think Jk actually benefits alot because he is shipped with taehyung and Jimin but I never thought that was true and I still don’t think it’s true. This is mainly because in most of the ships he is the center of, he is rarely ever the favourite. Most taekoookers are Taehyung biased and either have Jk as a bias wrecker or just like him because they think he is dating Tae or want him to be with Tae and the same goes for jikookers. Most jikookers are Jimin biased and either have Jk as a bias wrecker or only like him because they think he is dating Jimin or want him to be with Jimin. You can see how true this is in how easily he gets dropped or criticized after he doesn’t “act right” with one of these two.

I still remember how many jikookers became Jimin solos after Face and Seven era and how many taekookers dropped Jungkook like he was hot after Layover and even after Taennie. Jungkook is the one who constantly gets thrown under the bus and very few people actually care to defend him unless it is in relation to the ship, so no, Jungkook has never really benefited much from ships, if anything he had just been used in shipwars only to be abandoned or shaded and insulted, the moment he isn’t either treating Jimin like an egg or the moment he isn’t showing enough love for Tae as Tae shows to him.

Jimin is my bias and honestly I may never have noticed Jungkook as much if it wasn’t for his bond with Jimin but once I noticed him and got to know him not only as an idol but as a person, I grew to love him so much. I hate how misunderstood he is. It breaks my heart everytime I see people complain about him and accuse him of being rude or insensitive or abusive or selfish or all the nonsense taekookers, jikookers, solos and haters say about him when he doesn’t act the way they want him to because in my eyes Jungkook is one of the most innocent and most sensitive members. He is one who has the innocence of baby and is extremely kind and thoughtful. He isn’t perfect and he has his bratty moments and could sometimes be a little to blunt without realizing that his words could be hurtful but he is genuinely a good person and I love him so much.

I know that I have digressed but your ask made me remember that I had been planning to make a post about Jungkook because I got sick and tired of seeing everyone shit on him. I get sick and tired of seeing people treat him like he isn’t a human being yet people have the guts to say he benefits alot from both ships even though all he gets is hate and people constantly pretending to love him even though they do not hesitate to drop him when he doesn’t toe the line. Plus this shenanigans over the past few days have really broken my heart and I can’t believe how this fandom is turning against him just because he dared to speak out against something he probably has experienced himself.

Even people who aren’t shippers who claim to love him only love what he is and not who he is as a person. I cannot tell you how many times I go through the Jungkook tag here on tumblr trying to find good Jungkook focused blogs that have meaningful discussions about him as we have many Jimin focused blogs like that, but everytime I check, the tag is filled with shippers, fanfics or porn, I am tired. It’s like he is just a piece of meat for everyone to either use in ships or use in their Y/N fantasies. Very few people actually care to know who Jungkook is beyond his idol image and hot looks. Even the solos who claim to love him and stream for him only do that so they could have something to brag about among other solos because you can easily tell they don’t know the first thing about Jungkook and don’t care to know. They project unto him, call him a company puppet when they feel like it, potray him as someone who is abusive and rude and insensitive towards his members, infact to them, he is the epitome of a fuck boy and I am tired.

This isn’t me saying that there aren’t shippers or fans who genuinely love him and do things for him out of that love, there are and I am grateful for all the people like that but sometimes I just wish he had more people who genuinely love him not the ones who pretend to for one reason or the other but start showing their true colors once they are not satisfied with something he does or doesn’t do.

As for yoonminers, I don’t even want to talk about those ones because sometimes I feel like they disgust me more than taekookers do. They claim to love Jimin and Yoongi but they have no issue following and interacting with taekookers and taekook accounts that constantly hate on Jimin, are being shady towards him and his bond with Jungkook or are straightup weird. I have never cared about yoonminers enough to look into their demographic but from the little I have seen, they definitely only token stan Jimin and don’t even really give a tiny rats ass about him and for some weird reason, they have made Jimin’s Nevermind tattoo all about Yoongi🙄. Yoongi is one of my bias wreckers and I see his deep bond and friendship with Jimin but even I would never reduce Jimin’s tattoo to being all about Yoongi because that is just disrespectful and like you said, you would never see a yoonminer when it comes to defending Jimin.

My response was all over the place anon but I wanted to use your ask to vent because I’ve been feeling pissed about alot of shit related to Jungkook lately.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hey! i love your donna fics so so much and i adore the way you write donna!! thank you for all the wonderful works you've shared!

do you think you could write one where reader is very insecure and doesn't think she deserves love and donna reassures her? i'm a sucker for hurt/comfort!

Yess!!! Thank you for your request, and for your kind words!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

To deserve, or not to deserve

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, insecurities, depression

Word count: 4,485

Summary: You're useless. You don't deserve to be loved... Or so you tought

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! Remember to love yourselves!!!! Today I have enough free time, so maybe I'll post another request if you don't mind. I think maybe I'm being annoying :S

“You are a failure, useless!” Your father shouted, cornering you against the old wall.

“No, that's not true! It isn't true!” You shouted back, hands on your head to avoid hearing those accusations. “Now, now I have someone who loves me…”

“Someone who loves you? Don't talk nonsense, no one could ever love you, (Y/N), you don't deserve to be loved...”

You don't deserve to be loved...

“No... It's not... It's not...” You murmured, opening your eyes only to find yourself in absolute darkness.

Your heart was beating fast and your breathing was struggling to control itself. The silence contrasted with the screams your head had imagined. You sighed in relief, but your were hands still shaking.

A nightmare, that was all.

Little by little you get used to the darkness, but the humidity on your forehead betrays the sweat of panic you experienced in your dreams. Your father was not there, he would never be there, you were safe. You were at the Beneviento estate.

Loyal subject of Mother Miranda, villager with a purpose in life, tireless cultivator and worker. That was you, just another villager, a useless one who couldn't even find someone to marry. Or so your family said.

The witch's weekly sermons were a constant plea for your life to change. You put your hands together, praying to the Black Gods to give you the chance to leave that horrible house.

You wouldn't know if they really heard your prayers. What you did know was that one of the Lords, Donna Beneviento, seemed to have some interest in you. Interest, at least you thought so. That mourning figure, along with the irritating doll, looked for you every week, looked for your body kneeling in that old chapel. She just watched you, as if you were a curious specimen, as if your suffering attracted her.

Little by little that was changing. A formal invitation to go to her house gave you enough hope to keep fighting, to want to keep living. A friendship, a silent tea. Not a word, not a sign of danger or threat.

Many times you thought you confused dreams with reality, why had a Lord like her noticed you? You weren't special. You were nobody, just (Y/N), useless, a failure, a mistake.

No matter the circumstances, you would still be the same failure to your father. Donna, for her part, seemed to listen to your empty words, your absurd stories about working. Did she really listen to you? It seemed unlikely.

But the teas were longer, the visits more frequent. Something seemed to really interest her, since one day, the woman in black showed her face to you, along with her feelings.

“I like you, (Y/N), I think I love you,” she said with her soft voice, marked by an unknown accent. You turned around, just when you felt you had to go back to your house. You would never come back, never.

A kiss sealed those words, confirmed Donna's interest in you. You had never kissed anyone, she had never kissed anyone. With no other experience to compare that beautiful feeling to, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, she was telling the truth.

It wasn't long until you started missing your stuff, the stuff that was still in that hell you used to call home.

You remembered your father's screams and his constant mantras that talked about how useless you were. He didn't believe that anyone had paid attention to you. He thought it was impossible for anyone to love you. It wasn't the first time he said it, but it was the last.

If you were to search your mind for something to make you smile, it would be your father's face when Donna appeared at the door, with her stoic pose, the Angie doll in her arms, and that veil that made her look terrifying.

Your father knelt, begging for mercy. Donna should have tortured him, but she didn't. She took your hand, taking you away from that place forever.

And there you were, sleeping with her, living with her. You might think you were in paradise, that your nightmares were over, but that wasn't the case at all. An insecure girl like you was unable to see the sincerity on the face of the lady in black. She wanted something from you, she didn't love you. She couldn't love you.

When you calmed down after your past haunted you in your dreams, you reached out your hand to the warm body lying next to you. Donna groaned and shifted, annoyed with you for interrupting her sleep.

You couldn't help but smile tenderly. You may not have been sure what she felt for you, but you were. You loved her. You loved her with all your soul.

You sighed again, slowly getting out of bed. You needed some water, you needed to reflect.

The cold water cleared your thoughts, and the reflection in the mirror showed your insecurities again. You were nothing special, you were nothing.

Drying yourself with a towel, you thought about everything you had experienced in that house. Smiles, compliments, caresses, large amounts of kisses and words of love. But were they sincere? Did Donna really love you?

“(Y/N)...” A hoarse and sleepy voice scared you, making you jump on the floor. Donna appeared behind you, out of the darkness, with her black hair down and a face that betrayed that you had woken her up. Apologize, (Y/N), you're useless. “I'm sorry, did I scare you?”

“A bit,” you said, with a half smile, lowering your head. “I didn't mean to wake you up, Donna, I'm so sorry,” you apologized.

She shook her head and smiled.

“Don't worry, it's okay,” she whispered, approaching and surrounding you from behind, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. You were shaking from the nightmare and the sweat on your body was quite evident, which made Lady Beneviento murmur something and slowly turn you around.

“Forgive me,” you repeated, afraid that her reassuring words preceded a punishment. Donna shook her head and frowned, studying your expression.

“(Y/N), are you okay? You're soaked,” she asked, ignoring your repeated apologies, something that was very common for her. Why didn't she give it importance? Your apologies were genuine.

“It's nothing, it's just that... I had a nightmare,” you said, downplaying it and avoiding looking into her bright and suspicious eye.

“A nightmare? What was it about?” Donna asked in a loving voice, gently grabbing your hand, comforting you with her caresses.

“Well, I... It doesn't matter. We, we should go back to bed. I'm stealing hours of sleep from you,” you said, your voice breaking as you remembered that horrible dream. Donna didn't move and stopped you from moving forward, keeping her grip on your hand.

“Come on, (Y/N), you're sweating. I’m going to prepare a bath for you,” she said, walking with you to the bathtub. Her tender smile could mean many things, but all you saw was just interest.

You've woken her up, and that requires paying for it, you supposed with the sight of your naked body. Yes, yes, surely that was what she wanted from you.

As the hot water filled the bathtub, you played with your nightgown. Donna noticed and looked at you with a strange grimace.

“Tesoro, you're shaking...” She said worriedly while she watched you untie the cloth that separated you from nudity.

“I’ve, I've never gotten naked in front of anyone, I'm sorry,” you said apologetically, looking down as the fabric disappeared from your body.

“What? Wait,” the lady in black whispered, grabbing a towel and covering your body with it. “Naked? What are you talking about?” She asked, tying that soft fabric to your body.

At that moment your face went from fear, from sadness, to the most absolute shame.

“Don't you want to see me naked?” You asked scared. Wasn't that what she wanted? What was it then?

Donna's eye widened and she looked away, with a confused grimace and her breathing speeding up little by little.

“No, I mean, yes, but...” She stammered, adjusting your towel tightly so that it wouldn't dare to fall on the floor. “I don't think it's time for that now, (Y/N).”

You nodded even more confused. Her face looked sad and worried. You had done things wrong again. You are useless, no one could love you.

 “I'm sorry,” you whispered, slowly stopping your trembling. Donna nodded with a frown and turned off the faucet, checking the water temperature.

“Don't apologize, you haven't done anything wrong,” she said, now, smiling tenderly.

“I woke you up,” you said hurriedly.

“(Y/N), what's wrong? You're acting...” She asked suspiciously. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

“Weird, yes, I'm sorry,” you said again with a melancholic tone, hoping that this time Donna would accept your apologies.

Donna approached you, gently lifting your chin and kissing you slowly, wanting to comfort your sorrows, something even one of those otherworldly kisses couldn’t do at that moment.

“Stop apologizing, tesoro... Get in the bathtub. You'll see how much better you feel afterwards, mm? Don't worry, I'll go make you a relaxing infusion so you can sleep well,” she said with a smile, but without losing that small distrust that was in her eye.

You nodded, noticing how she walked away from you, closing the door.

The bath felt good to you and the infusion even better, but they did nothing to silence the voices of your conscience. Your father was right, you were worthless. No one could love you.

When you opened your eyes the next day, loneliness invaded you. No one breathed calmly next to you. The warmth of her body had disappeared. Just as you had predicted, she had abandoned you, she didn't love you. You didn't deserve to be loved.

“Donna?” You asked with a sob, silencing the horrible thoughts that plagued your insecure mind. “Donna?!”

You got nervous just at the thought of having to go home, of her throwing you away because you were stupid, useless.

“Don't yell, idiot,” the Angie doll, who was resting curled up next to you, snapped. “Now she comes.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologized, bowing your head. Angie made fun of you with some exaggerated gestures.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she mocked comically. “You said your name was, (Y/N)? More like you're Lady Apologies.”

“I like to apologize when I think I've done something wrong,” you defended yourself against those taunts. Angie stopped jumping on the bed and sat next to you, studying your gaze.

“So what exactly have you done wrong? Apart from screaming like a crazy girl, of course,” the doll asked, with that irritating tone, one that was not the most appropriate to listen to when you just woke up.

“I've bothered you,” you whispered, feeling pathetic for having to apologize to a porcelain doll.

“I don't know how Donna can stand you, you're so annoying,” the doll hissed, pointing an accusing finger at you.

“I know,” you murmured, tears in your eyes.

“You know?” The puppet asked, surprised by your answer.

“You're right, Angie, I don't know how she puts up with me,” you said sobbing, raising your knees to your chest, burying your soft cry in the sheets.

“Oh, no, no, no,” the doll said climbing up your body and trying to separate its hands from your face. “Don't cry, or Donna will be angry with me... Come on, stop crying. Do you want to hear a joke? What does the stick of a campfire say to another? Your caresses make me burn...”

You raised your head and smiled involuntarily, lowering your legs slightly.

“Do you get it? Campfire, burn...” Angie repeated, amused. You nodded, laughing sheepishly. “I won, you laughed…”

“Good morning, tesoro,” a soft voice interrupted that awkward but funny moment. Donna, already wearing her dress and her hair tied up, entered the room, carrying what looked like a tray with breakfast in her arms.

“Donna...” You sighed when you saw her, with a smile of relief.

“I bring you breakfast,” she said happily, leaving the tray on your lap and sitting next to you. “Look, I made you coffee, with milk and sugar, just the way you like it. You also have toast, some pieces of fruit…”

“What’s that?” You asked, amazed but incredulous at the same time, admiring this display of delicious morning delicacies. Donna shrugged, taking one of the toasts with an amused smile.

“I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. I think it's very romantic, don't you?” She said, biting into a bit of that lightly toasted bread.

Her words seemed sincere, but you still didn't believe her. No one would do something like that for someone like you. No matter how many times you thought about it, it didn't seem remotely possible.

“Romantic...” You sighed with the same sad tone, earning that suspicious look again.

No, no. She didn't want to be romantic with you. No one could be romantic with you.

Donna looked at you curiously. You couldn't fool her any longer. She knew perfectly well that something was happening to you, what would be your punishment for that?

“I'm so worried about you, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly in hers.

“About me? Oh, don't worry, Donna,” you said, apologizing with your gestures, and pretending to take a sip of that hot coffee.

“Have I done something wrong?” She asked again, getting a little closer to you. You shook your head and faked a smile. No, you didn't want to, you didn't want to lose her.

“No, I... Everything you do or say is perfect,” you said firmly, making the lady and her doll look curious at each other.

“That sounds like a reproach to me,” Donna murmured, now with a colder expression.

“No, it is not. I didn't mean for it to sound like that, I'm so sorry,” you said to try to calm that cold look. There would be consequences, for sure. The lady in black moved away, she was getting nervous, because of you, always because of you.

“Okay, well... I... I'll leave you alone, I don't want to annoy you,” she said, caressing your cheek and leaving the room, giving you one last sad look.

You couldn't help but cry after that. Your doubts, your insecurities were too strong, too intense to bear. If only you had the courage to ask her, the courage to know why she was attracted to you, or rather to ask what she wanted from you.

The love you felt was strong, but you wanted to stop, you wanted to find out what kind of evil plans the lady in black had for you. No, love was definitely not a feeling she could have for you. Nobody will ever love you.

The day passed slowly, sad, dull.

Donna worked in her workshop as always, but even then you couldn't be with her, she told you that she wanted to be alone, she needed to concentrate.

Your insecurity after those words only grew. You always accompanied her in her work, with her dolls. Donna said that she felt comfortable in your company, but she didn't like it lately. Obvious. She was sick of you. You were a scumbag, a loser. You knew nothing about love, you didn't know how to please her. You didn't know if it was time to take the next step or not.

You didn't know anything. You didn't know what she felt. Every I love you that came out of her mouth sounded like the biggest of lies. For you, that sudden isolation only confirmed your suspicions. The day when you would be left alone would soon come, she would torture you. She would confess you were not good enough for her.

Depressed, you lay on the couch, the sound of the waterfall dramatizing your horrible thoughts. You were nothing, you deserved nothing. Those words you yourself repeated over and over again accompanied your tiredness, your apathy, until your eyes closed, until your eyelids were too heavy...

“I don't love you, (Y/N)” Donna hissed, in the middle of a dark, empty room, where only you and her were.

Kneeling, you cried intensely, inconsolably, clinging pathetically to the black fabric of her dress.

“Don't say that, Donna, I know it's not true,” you sobbed when she pushed you away unpleasantly, making you fall to the ground.

“You are a worthless girl!” The lady screamed, with her fists clenched on either side of her hips. “You are useless!”

“No, no, it's not you, Donna, I know it's not you...” You said nervously, getting up from the floor and cupping her face in your hands.

“Stupid,” she hissed, pushing you away. “I just wanted to have a fun time with you, but you don't even deserve to be my toy. You're not even good enough to get fucked, you're useless.”

You shook your head, while more voices and evil laughter filled that empty room.

“Useless, useless, useless,” voices like your father's began to insult you at the same time that ghostly arms cornered you against a wall.

“No, no, stop it!” You shrieked, doubling over yourself, not wanting to look at the lady in black's expression of contempt, not wanting to hear those words anymore.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)...” Donna murmured, with that devilish smile on her face.

“No... No...” You murmured, writhing on the couch until with a dull thud, you fell to the wooden floor, realizing the brightness of the place. Another dream, another nightmare.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” The lady in black asked, leaning down to help you up. You were no longer in an empty room. You were at home, in her house...

“Yes, I... I think I fell asleep,” you whispered, sitting up with his help. She joined you, but she avoided looking into your eyes. “I'm sorry I scared you.”

“No, tesoro... Don't apologize...” She whispered, running a hand over your sweaty forehead. “I heard you scream. Don't tell me you've had another...”

“No, it doesn't matter, really, I'm better now,” you interrupted, perhaps with a slightly abrupt tone. Donna shook her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You hadn't realized, but she was carrying something in her hand, it looked like a small box.

“Right,” she whispered, suspicious. Soon that distrust changed to an expression of shyness, as she extended that small box towards you. “I… I… I have, I have something for you.”

You pointed to yourself, confused, and picked up that small box, opening it slowly, hoping to find a note inside that surely said: I don't love you, out of my sight.

But there was none of that inside. In its place, there was a small bracelet decorated with porcelain animals, with the symbol of the Beneviento House. The golden glow hit your eyes and your nervousness only increased.

“It's, it's a bracelet,” Donna said, noticing your confused look, taking the object and tying it to your wrist with trembling hands. “I’ve made it for you, (Y/N)”

“For me...” You repeated nervously, looking at that bracelet again and again, not understanding. Not understanding anything.

“Yes, of course,” Donna said, amused, but also upset, nervous about your reaction. “It was a surprise, that's why I didn't want you to go down to the workshop,” she explained, breathing heavily.

Surely she should expect a smile, a thank you, but all you could do was to keep your gaze on that golden bracelet as your eyes filled with tears.

You shook your head, all your feelings screaming to come out of you. It didn't take long for the sobs to appear.

Why would someone who didn't love you do something like that? Why would Donna give you something so nice? Why would she bother doing it if she didn't love you? You don't deserve that gift. You don't deserve to be loved.

“Why are you crying?” Donna asked, scared, placing her hands on your shoulders. “You don't like it?”

You looked at her and nodded profusely.

“Yes, I really like it, Donna, it’s amazing,” you said with a broken voice, playing with those little porcelain animals. She nodded too, looking for the answer to your attitude in your teary eyes.

“I don't understand why...” She murmured, wiping several tears from your cheeks. You pushed her hand away unpleasantly and growled, wanting to get out everything you had inside you for a long time.

“Why, Donna?” You said with a pitiful cry, making her retreat.

“Why what? What's going on, tesoro?” She asked scared, controlling her breathing so as not to get nervous, even more so.

“Don't call me that...” You hissed, clenching your teeth tightly. “Do not call me that way!” You screeched, pushing her shoulders.

“But, but, it's an affectionate nickname... No, it's not bad at all. It means honey, sweetheart... Or...” Donna said, completely scared, with her eye open in surprise and fear.

“I know what it means!” You screamed again, letting more tears travel down your face. “How long are you going to continue like this?”

“Like this? I don't understand you… (Y/N),” she muttered confusedly, blinking erratically. Great, useless girl, you're going to cause her a terrible crisis.

“Stop pretending you love me, Donna. I'm fed up,” you said furiously, avoiding her gaze, avoiding listening to the intense beating of your heart.

“What are you talking about? Pretend?” She asked again, trying to grab your hand, a gesture that you rejected again.

“Yes, yes...” You responded, now, looking at her, with your vision blurred due to the crying. “You're pretending. You're just pretending so I don't run away, right? So you can get what you want from me.”

“I don't understand you, really... I don't, I don't know what...”

“You really know!” You responded to her babbling. “I'm nothing but a useless idiot. I'm no good for anything. You can't have any other intentions, Donna. You want something from me.”

“You're talking nonsense, (Y/N), come on, you have to calm down,” she said, smiling nervously, not knowing how to act in such a horrible situation.

“I don't want to calm down!”

Donna, looked at you in horror, completely lost, about to burst into a nervous breakdown that you caused.

“I love you, you know?” You said in a calmer tone, almost like a whisper. “I love you with all my soul. And I know, I know that you don't feel the same.”

“I don't I feel the same? But, but why do you think so?” Donna said, still bewildered, lost in your tears and overcome by your own emotions.

“Because no one can love me,” you said in a dark voice, clenching your fists tightly, wanting to scream, break things, wanting Donna to be honest with you. “I know that I’m a failure, useless. I don't deserve anyone to love me, no one can love me.”

The lady in black just shook her head, stunned by your somber response.

“This is all because of your father, right?” Donna said, calmer, with a soft tone, with that tone that you adored. You shook your head, this time, letting her hand grab yours.

“He was right,” you said quietly, letting the touch of her hand on your skin calm your demons.

“No, he’s not,” she said, approaching cautiously. “Your father is an idiot, (Y/N)...”

“Me too,” you whispered, looking away from her again.

“No, no, darling...” She murmured, bringing a hand to your face, forcing you to look at her beauty, an irresistible beauty for you. “Hey, come on… What nonsense is you don't deserve to be loved?”

You didn't know how to respond, you simply shrugged, resigned.

“Listen, I... I understand your thoughts,” she told you, coming a little closer, grabbing your hands tightly in hers. “I know what it's like to feel useless, a failure... But, I also know that I look at you and my whole body shakes, that I couldn't live without your smile. I'm in love with you, (Y/N). You're a wonderful girl.”

“Why? Come on, tell me why you think I'm wonderful,” you said, annoyed by those, in your opinion, empty words.

“Just look at you, mm? You're beautiful...” Donna said with a tender smile, lifting your chin slightly. “You are a nice person, funny, happy… You are not useless.”

“I'm not funny, nor happy,” you responded, ignoring her words. Donna sighed, finding frustration in your depressed attitude. But she wasn't going to give up.

“Of course you are,” she said, insisting, insisting so much that little by little, you began to believe her words. “You are when you are with me.”

“Because I love you, I've already told you,” you said, avoiding smiling when remembering those pleasant talks with the sound of the waterfall in the background, or those anecdotes about your boring life in the village.

“Love makes you happy then,” she said, amused but with her eye shining, revealing that some tears were about to come out. “That's very nice, you know?”

“But you don't... You can't feel the same. I'm just a stupid villager, you are a Lord. You deserve someone to give you everything you need. You don't need a self-indulgent stupid (Y/N) who apologizes all the time.”

“No, my love... No one can give me what you give me,” she whispered, very close to your lips, kissing them carefully, afraid that you would reject them. You didn't, at least at that very moment.

“So what do I give you?” You asked, closing your eyes, enjoying the contact, her soft skin against yours. A feeling that you had never valued as much as in that moment.

“You make me to live, (Y/N), want to love...” Donna whispered, kissing you romantically once again.

“I’m giving you that?” You asked, sobbing again, but this time, from happiness. No one had ever said anything like that about you, ever, not even your family. You had never thought that you could be so important to someone.

“You give me the love that I’m missing in my lonely life. You are everything to me, (Y/N). I don't expect you to believe me... But I love you, I really love you.”

“Do you really love me?” You asked again, clinging to the black fabric of her dress.

“I would give everything for you...”

After those words, you were the one who threw yourself into her arms, kissing her with passion, with joy dispelling your doubts, with love ending your insecurities. No, you weren't useless, she needed you, she needed your love. She needed you to be with her. You would never be useless again.

You were her love, she was yours. You deserved to be loved. You deserved all the happiness that Donna gave you. You weren't a stupid villager, you were her stupid villager, and you always would be.

[unknownperson246]

Chapter 4 of A Monster

Don’t mind the inbox it was a reminder to myself to write chapter 4

A Monster chapter 4

Words: 1,147

warnings: *angst* *vampire slash* *cussing* *killing* *toxic slash* *drugging* *pregnancy*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You wake up from your drug-induced slumber. You feel groggy and everything in sight is blurry. You feel very weak and you suddenly have flashbacks of the night you and Slash fucked. You see Slash watching you as he sits on the chair next to your bed.

“Morning sleepy head, how do you feel?” slash asks you with a smirk.

“What did you drug me with?” you ask, trying to not lose your temper.

“It was a mild sedative. The baby was distressed from how you were freaking out about me killing a useless fucking pussy” Slash says like the maid was a toy he could play with.

You sit on the bed astonished at what your husband just said.

“Do you see me as a piece of useless pussy?” you ask Slash. 

Slash sits there silently watching your mouth move. He ignores everything you have to say.

“Shut up” Slash spits in your face. 

“Just lay down and go to sleep, you're fucking annoying with how much you blab about nonsense. Vampires kill for fun; they see it as a sport okay? It's just in our nature. It's a sport for us” Slash gets his fist ready.

You remain silent and you watch Slash leave your room. You have a plan. You want to run away from Slash. You regret marrying him. You thought he was sweet and gentle but it turns out he is just a verbally abusive bastard. You have all of your things pre-packed inside of your one luggage. You already have it in your car. You had it in the car in case you were going on your honeymoon with Slash. You grab your car keys silently. Slash just assumes that you fell asleep in the bedroom. He is out killing and hunting other humans. You walk out of Slash's mansion taking one last good look at the huge house. You put your key in the ignition and drive away. You drive away for hours. You're now in Florida all the way across California. Slash had already come home and noticed that you were missing. He looked for you everywhere in the house. Instead of being worried he is pissed off. 

“She’s gone,” He says sniffing your remaining scent that was left on your pillow. 

“She took my baby with her.” He says through gritted teeth while inhaling your soft scent. 

He goes to the nursery where the baby’s things are set up. He can still track you down; he knows that you left for Florida. He walks out the door and goes to the airport. Meanwhile, you are in a house that you rented. You take a nap after driving for days. Once you take a nice bath you change into something more comfortable. You change into a black silky nightgown. As soon as you get to the bed you hear footsteps in the house. You are on high alert. You turn around and you see Slash. He rushes to your back and he pulls your arms behind your back.

“Hi Y/N” He purrs in your ear.

“What were you thinking?” He asks you.

“You took my baby with you.” He says holding your arms with one hand while the other reaches for your stomach that started protruding.

“Where were you Slash when I left.” You ask him.

“I was in New Orleans killing other people,” He says smirking.

“We are going home right now,” He says while grabbing your stuff.

“I don’t want to kill please Slash” You beg him.

“You don't have to but I will continue doing whatever I want” He purrs in your ear.

“Slash what did you do to the people?” You ask him.

“I killed them like I said earlier.” He answers your question.

“No. What exactly did you do to them?.” You ask.

“After I killed them I left them in ditches.” He says.

“Did you kill anyone with the name Luna?” You ask him.

“Luna?. What type of name is Luna?” He asks disgustedly.

“I don’t remember. I don’t bother asking names. I’m only there for what I want” He says cruelly laughing.

“What exactly is it that you want?” You ask him with a shaky voice.

“I want you, my baby, a lot of blood and to kill,” He says smirking at you.

You start to cry and sob scared of what is going to happen once you get home.

“Shh. I’m going to take care of you and our son” He smirks.

“Our son?” You ask dumbfounded.

“I can tell it's a boy,” He says. You stare at him like he is a horror movie.

He continues moving his hand across your bulging belly. 

“Please I don't want to go home” You plead with Slash.

“Too bad we have to go now, sweetheart.” He says softly trying not to scare you further.

Suddenly everything in Slash's demeanor changes. His face softens up and his tone quiets down. He is like a whole other person. He feels guilty for what he did to you early. You were in shock that he was aware of it right at the moment. You wanted to run away. You wanted to shrink away from his attention. You wanted to be in a warm bed with a sweet man. Slash starts to apologize for what he did to you. To you, it's a sudden move and you don't trust him fully yet.

“Look I know I was harsh earlier when I said that you should sleep and I know it's something you can't forgive easily. All I want you to know is that I'm sorry for everything that has happened to this point. I won't ever try to hurt you because you are my wife and the mother of my child. So please come with me?.” He asks you. You do not trust him but you want to be with Slash for your son.

“Fine let's go but please let go of me,” You tell Slash gently.

“How many months along are you?” Slash asks you randomly.

“Around 3 months now,” You tell him.

You put your stuff in the car you drove to Florida in. “Slash, how specifically do you know our baby is a boy?” You ask him.

“Once the baby is more developed, vampires can tell the gender” He explains to you.

“That makes no sense at all but I’m too tired to ask a follow-up question. Let's just go home.” You tell Slash in a frustrated tone.

You both arrive back to California in your huge mansion. “So what are we going to do now?” You ask Slash.

“Just focus on yourself and our son,” Slash says.

You wanted to protest but you knew he was right. 

“Slash, please don't go out killing. It's another thing if you're hungry. If you kill for fun it’s just cruel” You beg Slash to stop killing others.

“Sorry darling I will do what I want,” Slash tells you.

You give up on your attempts to convince him to stop killing other people.

[ellisgirl]

Jude Jazza & Ellis Twilight — Villains Want to Embarrass Little Robin Story Event

Epilogue

I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.

Kate: "Ellis's "request"... Is this okay with you? Are you sure?

Ellis: "Yeah. Date with Jude and Miss Kate on my day off."

Jude: “There's no such thing as a date with the three of us.”

Each with a gelato of a different colour in hand, we sit on the stairs and look out over the city of London.

Ellis: “I saw that Miss Kate seemed to be having a good time on her last mission, so I thought the three of us would be good together."

(Looks like fun..... Was it?)

I try to remember what happened a few days ago.

I was surprised by Mr. Jude's Queen’s English,

I was blown away by Ellis's outrageous act,

Sleeping in a bed with the three of us.….

(......Well, the last one shocked me the most anyway)

I can't say that it was fun, but it was certain that laughter came to mind more than fear.

(Once again, it's thanks to the two of them that we were able to finish the mission safely.)

Ellis: “Here, Miss Kate. I'll give you a bite of mine."

Kate: "Wow..... Actually, I was a little curious of your gelato’s flavour, thank you very much."

I lick the chocolate-coloured gelato with my words.

Kate: "!....so sweet and delicious"

Ellis: "Fufu... I'm glad."

Ellis: “Give me Jude's, too."

Without waiting for Mr. Jude's response, Ellis ate the light yellow food in a single bite.

Jude: "Tsk.... I'm telling you to stop eating without permission."

Ellis: "That's right, I'm sorry. But it was delicious, thank you for the meal."

Ellis is the same as always, even to Mr. Jude who seems to be in a bad mood.

After working together with several missions, I get the sense that....... The two of them do not get along well with each other, but it is natural that they have each other's backs.

(......Somehow, it's nice)

I was a little jealous, and when I was staring blankly at Jude's hand,

Ellis: "Miss Kate, do you want to eat Jude’s too?”

Kate: "What?"

When Ellis suddenly said that, my voice turned inside out.

Kate: "No, I was staring at him for a different reason.”

The tip of Mr. Jude's tongue scoops up the pear gelato.

(Ah... but it sure looks delicious.)

Jude: “…..Do you want it?”

Kate: "Eh, is it okay.......?"

I was puzzled when he offered it to me, but I put my lips to it and extended my tongue.

But just before the tip of the tongue touched, the gelato went away.

Kate: “…….?”

Jude: “.....Ha, your face."

Mr. Jude laughed at me who was stuck with my tongue out, and licked another mouthful of gelato.

Kate: "Hey, that's terrible.... Fiddle with my appetite….!”

Ellis: “All right, all right. ......Next time you can eat his like I do, Miss Kate."

Jude: “I told you not to do that. I'm going to beat you to a pulp.”

Ellis said as if he suddenly remembered while I quietly enjoying my own portion of lemon gelato.

Ellis: "Oh, that's right. What is Miss Kate's request?"

Kate: "Eh? Oh...”

Kate: “I'm fine with it because it was the two of you that kept me from being exposed."

Ellis: "But you did a lot of hard work, right?"

Ellis: "I want to fulfil your “request”."

Jude: “………”

Mr. Jude is looking towards the day after tomorrow, as if to say that this question and answer is meaningless.

Kate: "Well then......"

Kate: "Can you tell me how Ellis came to work at Jude's company?"

Ellis: "Is that a request for me? Or a request for Jude?"

Kate: "Both of you. This one is enough."

Jude: “It's a bunch of nonsense. You don't need that useless information.”

Kate: "Yes, it's fine."

Ellis: "Well... I wonder where to start."

Ellis: “When I first met Jude in London, he put me to sleep with his curse ability right after a few words.”

Kate: “Eh…..!?”

Ellis: "That was the first time Jude realised his ability, right?"

Jude: "I thought he was dead because he suddenly rolled to the ground."

Kate: "So, what happened...?"

Jude: "He woke up when I was smoking."

Kate: "Were you smoking next to someone you thought might be dead.....?"

Ellis: "At that time, I thought maybe he was the same as me, so I also showed my ability."

Kate: "...You mean that you restrained Mr. Jude's wrists...?"

(I don't know what to be scared of...)

Jude: "You don't need that part.”

Ellis: “So, since I didn't have a place to stay, he took me to his house.”

Kate: "Yeah... They say don't follow people you meet for the first time......"

Kate: "Or rather, Mr. Jude shouldn't bring someone you've met for the first time to your house...?"

Jude: “I don't need you to tell me how to manage my life.”

Ellis: "And, I signed the contract."

Kate: "I'm starting to feel like I'm listening to a bad scam experience...... With the way things are going, why did you sign.....?"

Ellis: “I don't have to worry about food, work, or a place to live. .....because he promised me."

Ellis: "I'm waiting for the time when Jude will be the happiest in his life."

Kate: "A promise that will be fulfilled at that time, you mean?"

Ellis: "Yes. He promises to fulfil my request when that time comes."

Kate: “Your request?”

Ellis smiled and avoided the answer.

Ellis: "But... It's hard to come. I wonder if Jude has always been unhappy."

Jude: "You're so noisy."

Kate: "What about Mr. Jude? Why did you decide to hire Ellis?"

Jude: “His physical ability and his curse are useful. He's definitely a bit of a nutcase."

Jude: "There's no way we're going to miss this precious labour force."

Kate: ".....Aiming for the body......?”

Jude: "Stop using creepy phrases."

(Mr. Jude wants to use Ellis conveniently, and Ellis wants Mr. Jude to grant his wish.)

They are by each other's side for each other's purposes...... I guess it's a contractual relationship.

(But...... I feel like that contract was finalised because it was these two people, not anyone else.)

Anyone else would surely have had a different outcome.

I think it's stronger than the bonds of friendship and love.

Ellis: "Well, next's Jude's turn."

Jude: “……..”

After thinking a little, Mr. Jude pointed at me,

Jude: "...From here”

His fingertip pointed across the main street.

Jude: "Run as fast as you can to the bookstore five blocks away and buy these."

On the paper that was given to me, there was a lot of the name of the book.

Kate: "Why do I need to run as fast as I can....?"

Jude: "It's boring when it's just an errand, isn't it?"

Jude: "....Will you keep your promise?"

(That's right......)

Kate: "I'm going......!”

I ate the rest of the gelato and ran through the city of London.

Ellis: ".....You don't have to run.”

Jude: "If you let her walk too long, she'll look back."

Ellis: "Four, five... seven? Who is it this time? Those who have a grudge against Jude again?"

Jude: "I don't know."

Jude: "Three minutes. Finish it before the princess comes back."

Ellis: “Give me two and a half minutes. You'll be thirsty, I'll have to buy you some water."

Jude: "Tsk..... If you do it, you should do four people."

Ellis: "Understood."

Without making any arrangements or exchanging eye contact, the two casually stepped into London’s thinly lit streets.

With the image of Kate coming home breathless.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 >> Chapter 2 >> Premium End >> Epilogue

[willowser]

you find pro-hero touya naked on the sidewalk.

face down, ass up, and completely unmoving; it's a little after 5 in the morning, which is maybe why no one has found him or offered him any clothes. or finished him off.

it's nearly december, but all the ice around him has melted into a slick and dangerous sludge, and snowflakes are sizzling when they make contact with his back. skin a tender pink and baby-smooth; another reason you know he's still alive, aside from all the heat he's generating on such a frozen morning.

"hey," you nudge him lightly with the toe of your boot until he grunts and begins to stir. "i don't know how your quirk works, but laying in the cold like this can't be good for you."

some kind of nonsense noise fumbles out of his mouth as he squints up at you, frown etched so deep that it looks like it hurts. it almost feels like he's mega-wasted and is burning off a hangover, but you squat next to him and don't smell alcohol or weed or vomit or even nicotine. just ash, as the early morning wind stings the inside of your nose.

"c'mon man," you scoff when he turns his back to you, like a teenager not ready to get out of bed. "don't make me leave you out here."

pro-hero touya has tattoos everywhere — or at least in his most visible spots, with his costume. piercings, you're not so sure about; the last time you saw his face up close on a big screen, he might have had a vertical bar through his lip and several in his ears, but you vaguely remember a tabloid article about him almost getting his mouth ripped off during a high-speed chase. you know there's something though, a bunch of metal in his face and head.

this touya has nothing. none of it; born fresh right here, in the muck and the ice.

of course the first thing you think is: clone-touya.

some evil ne'er-do-well has obtained pieces of his dna and is trying to create a super weapon to destroy the city, and in a cruel twist of fate, you get to be the one that finds him. responsible, suddenly, for the could-be end of the world. least you can do is offer him your coat.

you try again at nudging him, with the side of your foot this time so as to put more weight into it, and, surprisingly, he complies rather easily, rolling completely over until he's flat on his back. exposed and bare to the elements.

"whoa," you mutter, eyes shooting up to the windows of the department store he's in front of. trying, at least, to offer him the small courtesy. "you're gonna get a public indecency charge at this point."

this is not the first time you've seen pro-hero touya's dick against your will; two years ago, some sex tape he made leaked and your co-worker was so excited to have it in her possession that it had been shoved into your face, sound and all, in the middle of your shift. there had been metal there, too, but this clone-touya is brand spanking new.

only one of his eyes is cracked open, a thin sliver of his icy blues peeking at you through a veil of snow-heavy lashes. something about him sprawled out on the concrete like a sloppy angel makes your heart squeeze, even if you don't particularly care much for him or his heroics.

"alright," you sigh, shrugging out of your coat to drape over his hips. "don't move, i guess."

it's lucky that he's half-alive right outside your job; in the following twenty minutes, you use your key to get back into the building and pick out a simple set of clothes from the men's section that you'll deduct from your paycheck later. when you come out of the back to find him again, he's at least pushed himself up into a sitting position and is coming to against the wall. in his lap, your fluffy jacket is damp and soggy and drooping and now useless.

if someone would have ever told you that one day you'd be here, helping to dress pro-hero touya like a toddler out of the bath, you — don't know what you would have said. laughed, maybe, eyebrows raised, totally lost. you feel much the same now.

a creeping unease has started at the base of your spine at his silence. finally dressed, he simply watches you, hazy, with half-lidded eyes, and you don't know what you're expecting from someone like him, but the cold shoulder is not it. it sucks that he's actually handsome because you didn't think you were the type of person to get caught up in him, but — all his features are sharp, like they've been carved by careful hands.

shorter in person, and, funny enough, that gives you the confidence to poke him in the cheek, like a brat.

"you okay in there?"

pro-hero touya doesn't retaliate to your impishness — which furthers your concern — only swallows and smacks his lips, squinting into the coming day as it dawns.

you take that as a no.

when you loop your arm through his, he lets you, and offers no objection to being led down the sidewalk. he's — warm, which you knew, but winter is sinking through your thin sweater and the plethora of heat rolling off him nearly has you purring. easy to sink in to, to your surprise, more than pliable in this fugue state.

there's a breakfast place not far from the department store and you think maybe he just needs to eat, or something. drink some water. you've been up since late last night with inventory and the thought of a fat stack of syrupy, buttermilk pancakes is motivation enough to hurry him along.

this early, there are very few people out to gawk at him on the street and you're glad for it, because you don't know how you'd explain this to your coworker if you were to end up in some tabloid. the most attention he garners is when you wrench open the doors to the cafe, and even then, the overtired, middle-aged woman just chews her gum and gestures to a table at the back.

when she brings water, you order a breakfast plate for him and yourself, and the first thing clone-touya says to you, after she's gone, is:

"i don't like pork."

you try not to make a big deal about him finally joining you in the physical world, settling for a shrug. "then don't eat it."

he snorts, still a little disjointed as he stares at the fading pattern of your table. you watch him take it all in: the salt and pepper shakers, the napkin container, the dead flies in the window pane, his tall, sweating glass.

all at once, he drinks it down so fast that some of it slips from the corners of his lips and down his chin, and when he wipes a limp hand across his mouth, you just scoot your glass across to him. and he does it all over again.

despite the weather, he wets a hand to run over his face. "what day is it?"

"thursday."

for some reason, he laughs once. huffy and short, scratchy. with a shake of his head, he turns towards the window, leaning into it like he needs to remember where he's at.

you don't think he is, but you still ask: "y'okay?"

his eyes cut to you, alive, and he considers you for a long moment. "you know who i am?"

you shrug, unable to tell if he's asking because he doesn't know, or if this is some kind of intimidation tactic. "think so." and then when he doesn't respond immediately, you tack on: "don't look right, though."

it makes him laugh, sharp and sudden. "yeah, right?" he shoves up his sleeves to trace the bare skin of his arms, rubbing his thumb over his wrist before making crescents with his nails. clone-touya goes silent again, and he doesn't look up until the food arrives.

before he can complain, you snatch the pork sausage off his plate and the quick action brings him back to the physical world again. back to the table and back to you.

he smiles like a ghost, mouth haunted on the pale, untouched skin of his face. "i have to work really hard at keeping my temperature regulated, or else my quirk will just—" he shrugs before downing another glass of water. when he finishes, he wipes a hand over his mouth, sloppy, and then takes an over-large bite of his pancakes. "eat me up."

you — don't really know what to say. this isn't a conversation topic you ever expected to have with him, not that you ever could have expected one to begin with, but you think he might just be — talking. to you, sure, but not to be polite.

"and if i just keep going and going and going," he speaks with food in his cheeks, and you're a little surprised at how bad his table manners are. but maybe he's just really hungry. "it'll just incinerate me into nothing."

so casually he says it, eyes far out the window, trained on the day as it wakes. you want to say that your clone theory is really coming together — how could he know all that, if he didn't actually incinerate himself into nothing? — but you take in his inkless arms and unpunctured nose and your stomach twists.

"so...then what?" when you speak up, his eyes cut across the table again, expression unchanged. his answer is a lazy gesture to himself with his fork. "you just...come back?"

"good news is," he laughs, insincere, "if i get a tattoo and hate it, i can just start all over again."

you don't know how to feel about that — well, you do, but you think your pity will only annoy him, so you say, "sounds like a waste of money."

clone-touya shrugs and you can see the food get caught in his throat, too large of a bite that has him stealing your water again. "got enough of it."

“your time, then?”

he doesn’t bother to look at you, as he shake his head; it feels rude, like some sort of dismissal. “what’s that fuckin’ matter?”

“okay,” you grit your teeth as he chews on your ice, and try to remember your own manners. maybe he’s grouchy because he just woke up from some kind of ash-nap. “what are you gaining from it?”

and that — has his jaw stilling, nostrils flaring as he finally, finally takes you in. whatever he finds in your face isn’t enough, and you’re reminded, again, that you really aren’t a big fan of this guy. he leans close as he whispers, “you wouldn’t get it.”

and you lean in just as close. “so explain it to me then.”

against the nearly empty plate, his cutlery sings when he drops it, suddenly. with food still stuffed into one side of his cheeks, he sits back in the booth and crosses his arms. childishly, you feel like you’ve won something, and your smile makes his eyes narrow.

“and who are you, anyway? some civilian?” clone-touya — or real, angry touya; you’re not sure anymore — doesn’t bother to keep his voice down, not even when the only other table in the cafe turns to look at him. “y’wanna know what it’s like to be daddy’s prized possession? fine. how much time you got?”

you shrug, crossing your arms as you lean into the table. hugging yourself, making yourself warm against the frost outside, and in his eyes. “what’s that matter?”

[artist-issues]

It's so evident that Disney is trying to girl-bossify their princesses, which is why the remakes's focus has shifted from the beautiful and timeless values and themes of love, selflessness, sacrifice, faith, kindness, trust, etc. to how they have actually been badass this whole time and how much stuff they can get done on their own and that actually don't need ANY man because that will automatically make them weak, stupid and useless (and they call people who don't think like them misogynistic lol), but that was never the point of their movies. I partly blame the ignorant fools that lambasted the original movies and characters for not being "progressive" enough or whatever nonsensical argument they came up with and accusing them of being bad role models when they clearly aren't. What Disney is doing is some sort of "damage control" and "apology" for not depicting how kickass a young woman can be or whatever. It saddens me that this is where Disney is at. They discard timeless and beautiful storytelling and themes for modern, performative ideologies.

Correct. I’ve said this somewhere else, too, I think, but they should never have tried to “improve” or change who their characters are. They should have simply doubled down.

That’s what they did with Cinderella 2015. Everyone criticizes Cinderella for not standing up to the evil stepfamily and rescuing herself; proving that they never understood that Cinderella’s superpower was her kindness. So in 2015, Disney said, “no, look, we’ll tell the story again, and this time pay attention to the kindness.”

They didn’t give her a rapier wit to put her stepmother in her place.

They didn’t add in a legal contract that forces Cinderella to stay so everyone knows she’d “leave if she could.”

They didn’t even make Cinderella fight her way out of her situation, in any way. Or convince the Prince to find her.

They just doubled down on the kindness and showed off, even more carefully, who Cinderella is and always was, regardless of whether or not her critics saw it.

But the other Princesses? They re-wrote. Belle’s no longer self-sacrificial: she “will escape!” her oath to take her father’s place. Jasmine’s no longer trusting and longing to be free: she wants to be Sultan. Ariel’s no longer doing everything out of love and faith: she’s doing it all for herself, so she can be independent.

You’re right, it’s all Disney holding up their hands and saying, “sorry sorry, we got it wrong the first time, what was it you wanted again?” And in 5 years, when the values of our culture shift again (like they always do, because they’re never rooted in a timeless moral standard, just whatever we want in the moment) the remakes will be considered inadequate. Their Princesses will be criticized, and round and round we go.

People are still criticizing Cinderella 2015 for the same core reasons they never liked any version of Cinderella (except for “Ever After” 🙄). Disney needs to remember: that just doesn’t matter. Let them be wrong. Truth will always stand the test of time. Pandering never does.

[silverynight]

The roommate

<---Previous

Part XXIII

Izuku is aware of the seriousness of the situation and yet he can't help but get excited once he walks into the hero agency. He's still a fan boy after all.

He looks around him in awe and hopes the other pro heroes don't find his behavior weird. He notices that Katsuki is grinning next to him.

"Calm down, nerd. This is not the time for a tour," Katsuki says, making Izuku blush. When he notices it, he chuckles and pulls him closer to him.

"Right, sorry!" Izuku says, although he gets a little bit nervous when they get inside an office; Shoto is already there, speaking with Creati.

Both his boyfriends must know him pretty well because Shoto smiles knowingly when he sees Izuku's expression.

"Oh, I remember you, cutie!" Creati comments when she finally notices him. "You guys are so lucky!"

"Oi!"

Shoto rolls his eyes at Katsuki's reaction, although he's a little bit tense too. He even gets slightly closer to Izuku.

Now it's time for Creati to roll her eyes.

"Relax, you two... you know I have a girlfriend."

It seems that both pro heroes suddenly remember about her girlfriend; Izuku ignores them for a moment and walks towards her. He remembers her, although she looks different wearing her hero suit; he probably saw her just once or twice but he liked her.

"Thanks for helping me with this."

Creati smiles at him, gently patting his head like he's her younger brother; Izuku is pretty sure they're the same age, but he's not going to protest because she's an amazing pro hero and he's excited to be around someone like her.

"Nonsense, you'll be the one helping us!"

She explains that they've been keeping an eye on the victim and her family; she keeps claiming she's alright and even though at first the therapist said he didn't find anything in her behavior to indicate she could be a danger to anyone else, there's something that still bothers him.

"They live in this part of the city; it seems she goes out often to the shopping center nearby and goes to the park with her family." She explains. "Since we want this to look casual, you should start going to these places everyday, but don't interact with her or her family right away. It has to be natural or at least make it look like it."

Katsuki looks like he doesn't love the plan already and it seems like he's about to say something when Yaoyorozu (Izuku finally remembers her name) speaks before him.

"Of course, none of you can go with him, otherwise the woman will never approach him."

"It's okay, I can take care of myself," Izuku assures them, but this time not even Shoto is on his side.

"She had a message for him from the villain," Shoto argues. "We don't know if she's actually working for them."

"You can't go with him, but that doesn't mean we won't send someone to keep an eye on Izuku."

"Even if they wear civilian clothes, the woman could recognize..." Katsuki stops mid sentence as soon as he notices Izuku's expression.

Even Shoto is confused at first, but Izuku has already figured out whom Creati wants to send.

"Hagakure!"

***

After having another meeting with Hagakure in which Izuku promises to be in contact with her and tell her when he gets to the place they agreed on, the pro hero hugs him, and Izuku ignores Katsuki's huff and Shoto's frown.

They're never going to change, huh?

Shoto gives him a goodbye kiss on the lips; he needs to stay in the agency and Katsuki takes Izuku home.

He doesn't pay too much attention to the pout on his boyfriend's face because he's too happy thinking that he's finally going to do something to try to solve this situation.

Izuku doesn't like to stay in one place while others get hurt; it has always made him feel useless.

"Seriously, you're that happy about risking your life?" Katsuki says, clearly pouting. Izuku knows he's not actually trying to persuade him to quit; he's just genuinely worried.

Perhaps he's even more concerned now because Creati told him he couldn't keep an eye on Izuku himself.

"I'm happy because I'll get to actually help this time."

"You're really annoying, have I told you that, nerd?" Katsuki rolls his eyes, but he can't hide the fond smile on his face.

"A couple of times, Kacchan," Izuku chuckles when the pro hero takes him in his arms and gives him a couple of kisses on the cheeks before chasing after his lips.

After a breathtaking kiss on the mouth, Katsuki presses his forehead against Izuku's to look directly into his eyes.

"Be careful, please."

"I will."

"Call me if you need anything."

Izuku nods before moving his head to nuzzle against Katsuki's cheek. They stay like that until his boyfriend mumbles something about dinner.

At least they'll have this quiet moment for themselves.

The plan will be set in motion tomorrow after Izuku's shift. And he needs to pretend that his boyfriends don't make him that happy anymore, which is going to be difficult because Izuku loves them so much.

***

His coworkers notice his concern even though Izuku focuses on his work most of the time and barely speaks to them during his working hours.

It's alright, it's better if people see him like that if he's going to pretend to have trouble at home so he just says he's "fine" which only leaves them more worried.

Although he's not pretending, he's genuinely nervous about his mission. He doesn't want to screw it up.

He gets messages from his boyfriends the whole time and Izuku has to remind them not to come to pick him up from work because he'll be going to the shopping center.

Kana's (the victim) family usually goes there on Friday so that's his opportunity to see them there.

"You're leaving?" One of his coworkers asks, confused. "You're not going to wait for your boyfriends?"

"I'm going to the shopping center today. I have to buy some stuff," Izuku mumbles, trying to smile. "And... I just want some time alone."

"But... isn't it dangerous?"

Izuku regrets not telling them about the plan or that he texted a pro hero his exact location so she can follow him and keep him safe, but he knows the less people know about it, the better.

"I appreciate your concern," Izuku says, hoping they realize he actually means it. "But I'll be fine."

"Alright," none of them look convinced at all. "Hope you find everything you're looking for!"

"Thank you, I hope so too!"

He really hopes everything goes according to the plan.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[darlingkirstein]

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kissing Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

[colourstreakgryffin]

I don't know if you take based character readers or if you know anything about Deltarune/Undertale or Toby Fox content but I wanted to request Andrealphus, Stella (alternative can be Blitz if you don't write for her) and Mammon with a Spamton reader? Thank you! I love your writing!

Haha! Ooh! I’ve never written for Andrealphus OR for Stella OR for Mammon, it’s new and I like it! I will absolutely do them all, we love our mean bitchy villains! Thank you so much! I have never tried Undertale/Deltarune based characters before but I have Google to help! I apologise for taking so long, here is first time try~!

Andrealphus

Andrealphus doesn’t remember why he even hired you. You’re a lunatic, you’re maddening. Spouting nonsense, speaking in Broken English, giving him weird items he has no use of. What did he want from you again?

Andrealphus doesn’t remember but he won’t deny that you’re amusing to listen to rant on and contradict yourself and behave like some perfect salesperson. At least, he knows you wouldn’t dare try scam him. He won’t hesitate to eviscerate you on the spot

Andrealphus may find you a bit nonsensical but he has found a use in YOU in general. Not just your ridiculous personality and cute but pathetic little scamming shop. But that you’re actually more witty and a bit kinder than you act, he exploits that by having you as a give to and give back servant

Andrealphus gives you a room in his palace and sustenances whilst you go out and scam the useless poor citizens of Hell for him. Bring him money, bring him back pricey possessions with your violent and nonsensical deals. Bring him back anything that’ll be useful to him and he’ll keep you

Andrealphus views you as his mad little puppet, his scammer, his perfect demon. A pink, yellow winged little marionette that does his bidding in favour for a great life but also for those thrills. He can tell you aren’t that unhappy with your unhinged state

Andrealphus does actually ‘like’ you. Yes. It’s all for what you can give him with your sales work but other than that. You’re adorable and when you actually express a occasional sensical comment to him, he’s pleased and content but don’t think he’s attached to you

He is. He absolutely is, he’s just trying to not admit it. He enjoys tea parties with you

“Marionette. What have you brought for me today~? A big bag, I see. Let’s go through it, sit in my lap now. I want to see everything you’ve scammed for me”

Stella

Unlike his brother, Stella does openly express she doesn’t really have as much use for you. You’re one of Stolas’ pathetic little servants. Her husband may see value in you but she doesn’t… that’s what she thought for quite some time until she realised there’s something there with your skillset

Stella cannot stand your personality. You’re a bumbling babbling baboon that talks the heaviest shit she’s ever heard, she can’t even understand you half of the time and it pisses her off

Though, you’re basically a thief. Your sales’pitches ends with you setting off with useful items or fat loads of money. Stella doesn’t need either but she can get what she wants from you, things like equipment to set up her parties, weapons for her hired hit to kill her opponents, or even just to get her dirty work done

Just then. That’s when Stella begun sweet-talking you, manipulating you. Offering you money and better treatment than Stolas gives you if you work for her solely, so you take it and Stella’s pleased with her efforts. She has a special little muppet to do as she wants when she wants

Stella likes, despite your stupidly insane mindset and gruff cruel attitude annoying her, how you screw others over and it makes her laugh so she sets up booths of your shop at places like his parties or around her land or even directly at Stolas

Stella grows to ‘like’ you more and more you serve her, she does get mad at all failures but really. She clearly has a soft spot for you and your inability to spelling words correctly. You have traits that annoy her but she is possessive over you

No Stolass is taking you away from her. She needs somebody to have tea parties with

“Did you get it? That’s good, darling little muppet. Your princess is quite pleased. Now, I order you to come with me to arrange our ‘Not Divorced’ Party”

Mammon

Mammon’s the King of Greed, the Sin of Greed. There is nothing he loves more than easily exploitable yet reliable figures to work for him so that’s where he ends up finding about you through his minions. Running a small but successful scam of a shop to the civilians of Greed with those cut-throat exchanges of yours

Mammon ‘hires’ you on the spot. You’re simply perfect for him, he can take most of the money and items you manage to gather, yet, also make you fabulously known and beloved by crowds all around the Rings

Like for the Goetias above, Mammon forms a take yet give relationship with you. He takes a big chunk of your profits through your malicious nonsense scams called sales but he also gives you a spot to make you even more wealthy. He has a favourite toy immediately

You’re mentally unwell yet with a good heart in a weird way, you make no sense and write like you’re having a stroke and yet. Mammon’s attached to it, somebody who thinks and behaves like him so you become the ‘child he didn’t want’, almost shoving Fizzarolli to the side

Mammon does think you’re like a little doll. A pretty doll with nice eyes and a sharp tongue that gets you the deals you want, you’re a natural salesperson with the ability to say you’re not in it for money but he knows you almost always are. It’s why he likes you

Mammon has you high up on his pillar of ‘good toys’. One of his most usual tools and ‘employees’ that he can manipulate so easily. He doesn’t even find you impossible to bond with, he gets you and it’s a reason he pulls strings around you more to benefit off you yet benefit you

He’d rather die than state he does somewhat care about you. It’s all about the wealth but still

“Ah. Had a tired day? I know you did but I need you to give me all your profits today, pretty Doll. Remember. You’re doing so well for me and for you~”

[witheredsnow]

A short story of an aroace friend's POV

Bright lights, lively music, and people with their friends and/or partners. It is the end of a long school year and everyone want to quickly forget about school work. A party to celebrate the last day of highschool. A last for many of us here.

A last for me and you too.

I do not let it show on my face. The bitter sweet feeling. Although, it's mostly bitter.

But... You're smiling, happy. You look back to me when I don't catch up with your excited gait. You were looking forward to this night. So I could not say no when asked.

I love your smile, did you know? I put effort to ensure to be partly credited to that smile this time... So, won't you smile at me a bit longer?

....

I smile slightly back, nonchalant after my pause to stare and monologue for a bit. You notice that I've been absent-minded. You ask, and I say I'm fine.

I cut myself off from straying thoughts. I could not afford to miss the smile that I won't be able to see again. Especially after I put much effort to make you smile.

I focus on the now and here.

Before I noticed, you have hooked our arms. You were always excitable so you end up hooking your arm with mine to pull me along.

Smiling and laughing, all care-free.

Like always.

Back then too.

I wish we could stay like this.

How hard I tried to.

.......

Before...

I wonder if you knew, if you would ever know, how I truly felt.

One morning, we walked to school together like any other. Matching your pace despite my impatience with everyone else.

We continue to chat on the way. Conversation continue to flow until you stopped and stared. I stopped as well, confused.

I sometimes wished I walked on, faster and uncaring, maybe drag you away as well.

I didn't think that would be the start of the end.

I asked, curious. You seemed to be staring at someone, in a gaze that I could not comprehend. And, well there is a someone just in front of us, a someone behind us and a someone on the side.

Back then, I didn't think that someone in particular would be the one... You would choose.

......

I remembered.

That one time. Or rather, multiple times.

Why?

We used to chat and welcome all sorts of topics. From the philosophical to nonsensical... When did it to turn to talking about... That person.

You gushed about them, all useless details to me. I listened, despite uninterested. I listened patiently like I always did, but this time, I didn't like the topic. Yet I did not say. Ah, how unfortunate to be an introvert at that moment.

I apologised in my heart many times for thinking that way.

I guess that's when I started feeling bitter.

....

And oh, how more bitter I was after.

You told them... What?! I didn't know that. We were supposed to be each other's confidants, right?

They're your friend, you say? Then what about me? I only learned of the issue after.

You... Why? I didn't ask them why, it made me feel pathetic. Maybe... It's not a big thing. Maybe... I'm over reacting.

And huh, they're friends apparently... Since... I don't know.

Huh.

...

.......

Tears wet your face and I was bearing witness to that more frequently now.

Who did they cry for? For that person.

Why did you cry? Oh, you saw them with this person and that person. Oh, someone seemed to have gotten up and close with them. Oh, someone asked to be alone with them.

I sat down with you. Patiently.

I care about you. You did and do know that, right?

Really, do you really know that?

Recently, that person had been bringing you more laughter and smiles. They had become your friend, your partner-in-crime, and your confidant.... More than I had been.

Oh how I wished to had have a heart to turn you away when you needed someone when the one who hurt you was that person.

But I smiled in consolation despite feeling pierced once more with a sharp wave of disappointment and hurt—No! Stop. I would not think that way of you.

Although I will admit that I was annoyed.

As much as they give you joy, a different kind of joy than I could, they give you just as much sorrow.

........

Huh...

....

I asked you that one time.

Do you care more about them than me?

How that question came about, I couldn't remember.

Your answer... I smiled silently in response because you said it was me. Lie.

When I asked you why you cared for that person in that way a different time... You told me of a foreign but familiar feeling. It was the same feeling I had towards you yet you said it was different. Huh...

When you felt heart broken, I wondered why.

You wanted their care as well.

And I stupidly asked whether if my care wasn't enough.

You told me it wasn't the same thing again.

Huh...

I feel another pang of pain.

.....

If I helped you fulfill your want of the. , would you smile at me again? Would it relieve you? Could we be friends again since you're no longer that worried or insecure? Wait, scratch that last one. We were still friends, right?

....

Maybe we were not. Or maybe this is just me being selfish and being the insecure one.

I don't see you often in the morning to go to school anymore. When I do, they're with you...

You sat with them and visit them more frequently than me these days. And oh, he lived in the neighborhood...

You talk more animatedly too. Like what we used to do even if it was mostly you...

That... Nice.

Maybe that's simply affection I could not understand despite helping you fulfill it.

I'm happy for you... Truly....

Even if it was painfully bitter.

....

It took me a while to make the decision. And I can not lie and say that I won't have regrets... But I really don't like pain. I also hate bitterness. That's why I don't eat vegetables.

Oh... I'm zoning out from the present again.

Yes, my monologue is done.

You chuckle and playfully hit my arm. Then told me that I seemed to be more absent-minded these days like I'm not present with you most of the time.

I laugh slightly at that and my lips quirk up.

Oh, there they are. You released my arm and went to them after saying few brief words to me.

I smile, a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

Why so quick to leave me again? Oops, that came about a bit too bitter.

You're smiling atleast. Isn't that what I hoped for... Although, honestly, I know that wasn't what I truly hoped for.

Hah... It's still hurting.

...

[great-preacher]

VENT.

Please, I'm disgusted that Anna Valerious exists as a character.

I'm angry at the fact that, from a logical point of view, she is an absolutely useless character and was created almost for sexualization. She plays virtually no role in the film - the only thing she does is threaten someone with a gun, whine about how much Dracula is a scumbag. She's not much of a warrior either, as can be seen at the beginning of the film. Anna is just.. a useless and stupid woman who is too pretentious and created to be kissed. I don't see the point. Without her, the film would have been much more logical. Like, come on, she's a vampire hunter. where have you seen vampire hunters who wear tight leggings, heels and barely know how to fight? She is selfish and seems to be using Gabriel. Just remember the slight contempt in her eyes when she sees the bite on Van Helsing's body. Consider the fact that she barely helps him in the film. And also that the only thing she does is whine and grieve about her family, blaming Dracula for what an asshole he is.

Her appearance is disgusting - she is a hunter, and hunters, from a practical point of view, are not allowed to wear corsets that interfere with breathing, heels, earrings and bright clothes. For it all rings, it is all bright, and the hunt can begin for the hunter. Anna is a hunter, or at least lives in a time when you have to be prepared for anything. She looks like some kind of whore, or at least not at all what a hunter should look like. Forgive me, I try to look at this from the side of logic, and I don’t see even a fraction of logic in Anna. She is a completely illogical, useless, irrelevant character in this film.

I'm not going to apologize for this vent. You can hit me with sledgehammers, but my opinion is unchanged. And I am sure that it is true, because in everything there is at least a grain of truth, and in my words, if they are not absolutely true, too.

Let's move on - the fact that Anna and Van Helsing supposedly have good performance and dynamics is complete nonsense. Anna, as I said earlier, is a trouble maker and she is simply using Van Helsing for her own gain. The way Anna looks at him when he was bitten by the werewolf could be proof that she feels contempt for him. I think this post even deserves to be pinned to my blog. I'm sure I'll have something to say later.

[eldritch-spouse]

Okay, first off, I ADORE your blog. You're writing style and creativity? *Chefs Kiss*

Secondly, I wanted to ask, how do the Icons of Hell react to a reader SO that is self-conscious, and\or has low self-esteem?

(I also can't help but wonder if Vorticas[I think that's the right spelling] name is a pun?)

[Thenk you very much, I'm pleased you're having fun. <:7]

Self-conscious reader and the Icons

Vesper is perhaps the nicest about it, realistically. You're Queen of Lust, everyone wants you and everyone admires you! What kind of madness is this?! What do you not like about to yourself? He'll make you sit down and tell him, just list it off. He's no psychologist, but Vesper's sure changes in your routine and self-afirming exercises will strip that out of you.

Vorticia has had many kids, all of which have already gone through their very hectic adolescent phases, in which they struggled with all sorts of natural self-esteem issues. She knows the types of things that can be weighing you down, and although her attitude is very "no nonsense", the Queen of Gluttony will crack at your tilted view of reality jarringly fast. She's the first to notice how deep your insecurities go.

Zizz is entirely out of his depth. He doesn't know what to do with you. He's not sure why you feel this way, and he's even more stressed out when his frantic declarations of your supposed perfection are just shunned. He even gets a tad irritated. He doesn't know what to tell you, so he forces you into dreams where you're worshipped from top to bottom- Physically and verbally, by numberless faceless demons and himself. He hopes repeating this achieves something.

Kalymir is a cunt. An honest cunt. He doesn't know what the fuck is in that shitheap you call a brain, but it's all wrong. It fucking grates on his nerves hearing you say that shit, get out, touch the ground, do something you moping little ball of misery! What are you, some fucking loser? Chin up, bitch- You're the Queen of Wrath! Act like it, dumbass. Do you think he would have picked you if you were worthless?

Rinx unfortunately has a very linear approach to dissatisfaction. Materialism. But how can you be insecure, when you have everything you could ever want laid at your feet, woman?! What is there to be insecure about? Come on, you're overthinking it. You'll have to be more vocal about it with Rinx, he will gladly get you help, but he doesn't really know how to tackle it on his own.

Cero... Will only assert your insecurities. He doesn't even mean to do it (unless it's a punishment), but it's not in his nature to praise or lift spirits. He thinks the correct way to go about this is to have everyone else praise and worship the ground you walk on, instead of adressing you directly. See, don't be a fool, look how superior you are to them. This is childish honestly, the two of you have better things to waste your time on.

Livius is someone you need to urgently avoid, like the plague. Remember, he mimics you. If you're deeply insecure and unwell, he'll take on those traits too. What ends up happening is that he'll adopt your insecurities and create a cycle of negative feedback. No, you're not ugly- He's ugly!!! HE'S STUPID AND USELESS. Congratulations, now you're both mentally unwell.

To address the name thing, a lot of these names are puns, and I've said it before too.

Vorticia = Vore + Morticia.

Rinx = "Rings".

Zizz = Catching Z's.

Kalymir = Derived from "calamity".

Vesper = Not exactly a pun so much as I'm determined to give vaguely religious names to sex demons as an inside joke.

Livius = From a roman origin, means "livid or envious". Liviu, a man who envies others.

(Di) Cero = Means wax in Latin, because this fucker waxes poetic. It also sounds like "zero" in some languages (including mine), and he's a whole ass 0/10. The name is also said to be associated with unstable, bitter individuals.

[itsbenedict]

From the beginning | Previously | Coin standings | 60/70 | 40/40

Adea will thank you to remember that this is her pathetic wet cat, thank you very much. Who among us has not seen a man have a seizure from eating a weird bug he found on the ground, and decided to marry him on the spot? Sometimes you just see a tiny insane philosophy professor in a sweater vest who would die if you didn't protect him, and nature takes over! He's scrunkly, okay? Shut up!

It once again falls to her to save her husband from the results of a sudden fit of gap moe, but she came prepared. She's got those DEVELOPER TOOLS, which, if she understands correctly, are like a technology thing that will tell you what's wrong with someone.

She pokes him with the needle, and...

Error: global entity index not found. No source record was retrieved. Deferring to local entity registry lookup. Error: floating process ID found for local entity "Walter Rehoots", but integrity checksum for "Walter Rehoots" failed. Access to insecure resource blocked. Examine insecure data with "oldtroopsleeve 'Walter Rehoots' --unsafe --pretty-print-source".

What the hell? What does any of that mean? Is this thing broken, or is something more wrong with him than she thought?

...She tests it on herself, and gets the exact same error message, except with her own name. Okay. Uh. Examine insecure data with... what, is it this button? Now she's seeing... just a load of incomprehensible computer nonsense. There's some stuff that's legible, though...

So, you're both "local entities", and have IDs for your names, but there's something called a checksum that isn't working. Maybe you need to get your checksums fixed? Do they make a cream for that?

There's a warning about "excessive data duplication" and "insecure defaults" that doesn't make much sense.

Okay, here's something- an age timestamp. He's... 45?! No, wait, what the- he was 30, last you checked. And- what the hell, you're 43?! No no no no no. That's not true. This thing's broken.

You've got these weird little labels on you with a flower icon next to them- you're labeled "ROBUST LONERS" and he's labeled "SORROW TO LEGS", which doesn't tell you much. Is he catatonic because his legs are sad???

There's a thing in your data called an ARCADE COOKING KIT, which apparently expired a few hours ago. Says here it denied over a thousand requests because they were from the wrong domain. Does this have anything to do with where you woke up?

Walter is "COAL-IMBUED" and you're "ACIDIC PIRATE", which is weird because he's always been big on green energy, and Talk Like A Pirate Day was yesterday.

You... don't find anything useful vis-a-vis snapping him out of this weird signal stabilizer fugue he put himself in, though. He seems... fine, except for all the mysterious crap that's not fine that you can't make heads or tails of. This thing is useless!

Walter interrupts to remind you that she's dead, she's dead, it's all pointless- and you flick him in the head. She's not dead, you tell him- and he says he saw it, saw her corpse being dragged away. You flick him in the head again and ask how and when he saw it, and whether he's sure he wasn't just seeing things.

This gets him quiet, but the kind of quiet where he's thinking. That philosophy brain, asking nerd questions like "why do I believe what I believe".

Both of you, actually, have been very obviously hallucinating a lot of crazy shit this entire time. Like, constantly. Just because he saw his DEAD DAUGHTER doesn't mean she's dead- maybe he was just thinking about how he TRUDGED AHEAD or whatever. You can't give up just because you had a mysterious vision. You are both objectively crazy people right now. It makes no sense to abandon all hope before you've had the chance to, like, get to a hospital and get medical care!

Walter sits there thinking for a couple solid minutes, which you let him do, and then he gets to his feet and wordlessly hugs you tight.

Alright. Okay. What now?

To be continued | 60/70 | 39/39

[misc-obeyme]

To 🦊 I wrote the ask just as I woke up so yes my natural Satan-like tendencies were harder to mask lol, sorry about that! I do prefer the term partly deaf. There are a lot of reasoning behind it but it doesn't really matter and it's my own personal preference after all, so usually I ignore how others say it... Unless unhinged... Speaking of which, CC, I have A LOT of thoughts about NB. At first it was hinted that MC lost the memory of who they are and what happened, and then it was glossed over as if MC regained it, and then there was the card from Raphael where he said "I remember you helping Lucifer in Cocytus but I know it can't be" or something like that which makes me think they will add a big chunk of drama in upcoming season, and Barb helping mc out with the piece of grimoire but not going with them just because Dia wanted some special cake was... Actually it was pretty in character. I also really, really, liked that we saw Solomon being Dia's butler for a day. Give me more of your unhinged posts! 🐆

LOL! We all get a little Satan-like at times, I think! I also get that way when I first wake up. Probably because mornings are the bane of my existence. But anyway! I also think it's perfectly reasonable to request people use the term that you prefer!

I am so confused about what the characters actually "remember" in NB.

I mean, all of them are like oh MC's room has a special feeling and there was a daily chat from Luke about how doing stuff with Simeon and Solomon felt right or something and a few other such instances that I can't remember. It just made me think that this wasn't actually the past we were dealing with.

I have some half theories about it being some kind of alternate reality created with magic (half because I never thought about them deeply enough to figure out if they make sense), but then they also talk about the "time soup" and all that sorta thing makes it sound like somehow the characters know stuff from the future?

If I think about all this stuff too much, I start to get angry because I think they really should've just left all of that out entirely.

Time travel is annoying to begin with, but then they're just gonna explain it all away with "time soup?" That concept means that none of the time travel actually matters at all. It has no rules and anything can happen and that makes it completely useless as a storytelling technique. Why include any of that at all, then?

If they really wanted us to experience the brothers in the past, they should have dedicated themselves to that storyline. Make it so that MC goes into the past, potentially has an impact on everyone they meet, and then travels back to the future. No time soup. The past brothers suffer because MC leaves them. The future brother suffer because MC was gone. This then changes the future because now the brothers remember MC from the past. OR potentially say that the brothers don't remember MC from the past at all, but MC does. OR it could just be a magical simulation and MC experienced how it was for them the past, but they were never actually there. I mean at least all of these options have some kind of sense and rules, even if they're still a little murky. But time soup?!?!

Okay, see, this is what I'm talking about. I start thinking about this stuff and I just spiral into nonsense.

I definitely loved that Barbatos had to stay behind to make a special recipe for Diavolo, that was exactly in character. He was like okay I can help MC and make the Young Master his requested dish all at the same time... and look, he did it because he is Barbatos and there is nothing that guy can't do! lol I love him.

Oh I forgot about Solomon having to help out at the castle to make up for his transgressions, I think it's pretty funny that Barbatos was okay with that. Of course, he was still there to supervise, can you imagine if he left those two alone?

Anyway, this is admittedly just the tip of the unhinged iceberg, but the whole NB plot has the potential to trigger rants from me lol.

I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, so I'm still hoping that the next season will clear up some of this stuff for me. The hope is at about 50/50 right now because they don't exactly have a great track record with this stuff imo.