#It was really fuckin weird and it made me feel so uneasy

[gxlden-angels]

I don't know how many of you watch/listen to Belief it or Not but I love his concern about a USAmerican pastor bringing a gun on stage for a message cause my old pastor openly bragged about being armed all the time

[misquigleya]

okay i'm done mass liking ALL OF YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE'S POSTS. now time to scream cause sO MANY MOMENTS !!

Misty and Crystal;

um hi hello i LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!! was i hoping that they would become a thing? yes absolutely. have i been screaming with Ri ( @feiry ) about them? absolutely. will i get more annoying? oh you fuckin' betcha. them sitting there being cute and fucking weird was just...cherry on top my dudes. but also made me think of lilly from pitch perfect and how she mentioned absorbing her twin and just...love that for crystal. ✨amazing✨ but also am i surprised misty was lowkey chill with the feast? no. no i was not cause that little freak def' read silence of the lambs and ✨thought about it✨. which like...okay i get it. but i was no way surprised by the chillness and how they just sat there talking about it.

moving away from the weird with them, but can we give crystal some credit for helping misty get out of her lil shell?? like i def' don't think misty would have even done anything for shauna's baby shower if she hadn't felt comfortable enough to do so aka the encouragement from crystal. was it smart to reenact that particular scene from steel magnolias? no, that was...something else. but i do like that the others did seem to like it after the initial "is she really doing this??" which was great and nice to see. even from mari who i for sure thought was gonna stop misty some how, but she surprised me.

Misty and Walt;

adult misty is gETTIN' A FRIEND AND I'M HAPPY FOR HER!! but my word i love that walt didn't even question her, much, with wanting to ask about natalie. he just "yea okay sure" and i do love their similarities and that misty is really getting to look in the mirror with him because he is def male misty and i love it. what i also love is that he's a seemingly a complete stranger, someone she's only ever interacted with through the forums and yet....he's willing to help her. unlike shauna and tai who should want to help find natalie but they've got their own issues going on so all is forgiven there.

however...i don't completely trust walt. his eagerness to help misty could turn out to be nefarious but i do hope that that is not the case nor that walt is a love interest i'm sorry walt blogs sd;klfj like i do hope that misty gets to have a lil buddy that goes around and solves crimes with her!!

Misty and Nat;

WHERE IS MY MISTNAT YOU GODDAMN FUCKERS?! IT'S BEEN 3 WEEKS NOW AND I'M CRAVING THEM AND JUST....please let next weeks episode be misty showing up to hottie lottie cult camp and they get reunited and i get my fix cause i am feral my dudes.

Lottie;

um lottie, babes...you're losing it ??? that ending scene didn't scream ✨sanity✨ nor did it scream that lottie is in control. so i'm really looking forward to more of her and getting to see what she's been up to prior to the show / season 2.

Shauna;

mrs. shipman-sadecki??? hi hello i love you please pistol whip me. jeffrey you are a lucky man, so happy for you like damn. also, love jeff standing by his slightly unhinged wife who is also slipping and losing a bit of control. love it for all them really.

Taissa;

mirror / other tai is the thing of nightmares and i don't know how to feel about her in general other than ✨uneasy✨ 'cause just like tai can't tell what misty's next move is and doesn't like it, i don't like not knowing what tai is going to do next or which tai we're going to be dealing with each week but god do i look forward to it regardless!!

[auroralightsthesky]

Ghosts of the Night Part 1 (Sequel to Somewhere in thy Memory)

Summary: There’s a reason you went to the house at the National Cemetery......and it’s not what people think

“Are you sure we should be doing this?�� you asked.

“As long as we stick to the house and don’t go near the Tomb or anywhere near the gravestones,” Gene said, hauling out the camera and some of the equipment. 

You were really uneasy about this. The first walk through the house at Arlington had been an event in and of itself, but the night walk? You just hoped that Gene knew what he was doing too. 

Ray and Vanessa met you close by the front porch, her brother with them; tall and imposing with a look in his eyes that reminded you every bit of Muhammed Ali. “Sup homes?” Ray greeted cheerfully. “Glad to see you crawled outta the swamps.” 

“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” Gene said sarcastically. “Says the hick who can’t even eat ravioli properly.” 

Ray’s face went bright red as he fiddled with his camera. “Ok, so are we gonna get this show on the road or not?”

“We’ll get moving in a minute,” you told him. “How long are we ok to be here?” 

“Ya’ll are ok till sunup,” Vanessa’s brother, Kendall, told you. “Only the house, not the burial grounds.” 

Kendall let the two of you into the house, the doors creaking open, much as they had done earlier in the afternoon. It was so eerie being at Arlington at night with no people around.......almost creepy in a way. 

“Shit,” Vanessa hissed under her breath. “I’m not liking this.” 

“What? Are you scared?” Ray asked her. 

“No just.......it feels weird.” 

That same feeling you had earlier in the day crept right back in, a feeling that if anybody had made a wrong move or disturbed anything, that the activity might increase. 

“Man this place gives me the creeps after dark,” Kendall remarked. “I dunno why I took this fuckin job.” 

“Cause ya’ll couldn’t pass one of the tests at the police academy,” Vanessa remarked. 

“Hey, ya’ll hush I didn’t have anything to do with that.” 

Something loud quickly caught your attention. It sounded like a chair being moved across the floor or a piece of furniture. “Did you guys hear that?”  

Everyone went dead quiet but heard nothing. You had the feeling that you were in for one wild ride that night. 

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

aot boys kink hcs

here are some kink hcs i found written on a piece of paper during my super important class 🥴 fr i was sitting in class as my professor gives a lecture— instead of listening i zoned out and wrote different kinks/overall sexual things down and thought if eren, jean, and levi would be into them 🤞🏻

eren art by aidan.k_art on insta

levi cosplay _hakkencoser_ on insta

warnings/tw; like many many kinks 💀

would they let you choke them?

eren: yes. surprisingly, it’s the only dom-like thing he lets you do him. (other than ride him) he would love the thrill of his life in your hands :,) although it would take him a while to let you do it to him. he says it mid-sex, i’ve written something for it with eremika here ;)

jean: yes yes yes. he loves it so much, gets him whining and moaning

levi: i feel like he’s claustrophobic :( so he’ll let you put your hands around his neck, just don’t put in any pressure. the first time you did it was when you were riding him, you didn’t really think much of it as you put your hands around his neck, giving pressure with your fingers. suddenly his lust-filled droopy eyes turned into one of horror. pulling you off of him as he grabbed his own throat, coughing. you apologized so fucking much and hated yourself for it. he hugged you and told you it was okay, that he’s sorry but it brings him ptsd and makes him uneasy :(

choke you?

eren: surprisingly, no 😳 i feel like he would love to see his own purple fingerprints on your hips. however, he doesn’t like the bruises he leaves on your neck, he inspects them with a frown, kissing all of them and burying his head in your neck. once he chokes you, he feels animalistic. more than ever. its like he doesn’t trust himself to put your life that closely in his hands :(( so once he doesn’t do it anymore, you don’t ask him why. you know him. you know what goes on in his head.

jean: only if you ask him to, he’d be scared to apply too much pressure tho, so he’d do it lightly

levi: yesyesyes. i feel like levi would do all dom things to you mostly when he’s mad at something or at you. he’s the type to grab you by the neck and kiss you passionately. awooga

would they whine?

eren: very. very. very rare. only if somehow you’ve managed to take the upper hand.

jean: yessir. definitely. mommy kink all the way.

levi: mostly no. although he really really needs to. he wont let himself. mostly grunts. although he does when you’re sucking him off, he whimpers and tries to hide it, but you humming around his length throws him over the edge.

would they overstimulate you?

eren: all fuckinggg day. he doesn’t care if you can’t anymore. shaking? pffttt suck it up. literally

jean: only if he’s super horny. would do it if you want to.

levi: not really. he likes it when you overstimulate him 👀— doesn’t really ask you to, however you can obviously tell by the way he bucks up his hips into you or your hand even tho he just came.

their fave position?

eren: he absolutely loves spooning you, fucking into you as your warm back is pressed against his chest, your back arching and head going to his shoulder when he hits that special spot in you and kisses your neck. he can easily hit your g-spot in this postition, loves when you squirm against his chest. his hand holding you close. —he also loves the most weirdest positions omg- he likes bending you in ways that could almost break you like a pretzel - your thighs pressed against your chest, your legs at a wide angle resting on his shoulder—you must take yoga classes for this man he loves fucking you in the positions🥴 even upside down

jean: he loves loves loves when you ride him. he’s called a horse for a reason😩 also loves mirror sex. we know he can get cocky sometimes, so he loves fucking you infront of the mirror as he holds your jaw and forces your eyes on the mirror, fucking you hard. also is a sucker for passionate/slow missionary.

levi: doggy. fuck yes he loves it. or reverse cowgirl omf— loves the view sm. not that he doesn’t like to see your face in sex omg😭 it’s just- he prefers it that way cuz he kinda doesn’t want you to see him, in all his vulnerability. :,) its rare he lets you. but when he does omg- the image is burned into your memory, his face and the way it contorts into pleasure, his thin brows going up as his mouth is wide open— or he’s clenching his jaw.

would they agree to you handcuffing/tying them?

eren: no. he likes to be free LMAO i’m sorry

jean: yes. definitely. finds it so hot but still tugs on them so so much and begs you to untie him.

levi: won’t admit it but he loves it. eventually comes around. pounces on you like a wild dog when you untie him and fucks the shit out of you. grunting as he calls you a brat for tying him.

would they tie you up?

eren: 100% fucker loves to see you squirming.

jean: not really, he tries it out of curiosity but just doesn’t know what the fuck to do without your touch. likes it better the other way ‘round.

levi: yes. he would like to take revenge for you tying him up. would def torture and edge you a lot.

let you blindfold them?

eren: never. would like to see you and every single expression on your face.

jean: yes. loves it. makes him so so sensitive and he loves the thrill of not knowing where he’s gonna feel your touch.

levi: maybe. if you really beg him and annoy him for it.

blindfold you?

eren: yes yes yes do i even need to elaborate

jean: not really. same as tying you up, he would get too nervous and flustered and not know what to do.

levi: absolutely. he’d actually almost chuckle at how responsive you are to his touch. he’d literally just sit there for minutes, gliding his hands over all parts of your body, your arms, legs, thighs, stomach. loses sense of time as he plays with your body.

would they let you peg them?

eren: absolutely not. fucking scoffs and chuckles at you and mocks you when you suggest it.

jean: yes. with persuasion. he’s mostly open and experimental. would he end up liking it? maybe. he finds the feeling very weird at first, but asks you with a blush if you can do it again another time.

levi: no— thinks it’s disgusting.

anal?

eren: yes. yes. yes. would absolutely destroy you. loves the tight asf feeling.

jean: would try, doesn’t like it. makes him cum too fast 💀

levi: thinks it’s filthy.

breeding kink?

eren: yes. loves filling you up. doesn’t like baby talk tho— he hates kids 💀💀 is sorry but maybe eventually?

jean: likes to cum on your back, stomach, or tits more. however he loves the idea of having a family with you. definitely cums in you while baby talk + “you’d be such a good mommy.”

levi: he rarely cums in you, you’d have to beg him to or wrap your legs around his torso, then he can’t stop himself. doesn’t trust condoms or birth control. he’d say there’s still a chance of you getting pregnant 🥴— not that he doesn’t want a baby with you- not yet tho. he needs to warm up to the idea of becoming a dad. trauma n all yk.

jealous seggs?

eren: definitely. he’s possessive.

jean: definitely. he’s insecure :(

levi: yes but doesn’t admit it (surprise surprise) not a lot tho, he knows he has you wrapped around his finger. doesn’t really show his jealousy much. lets it eat away at him silently:/

lets you pull their hair?

eren: hell no. you do it anyway , he goes absolutely feral.

jean: yes. loves it so so much. also open to basically anything that makes you happy

levi: even tho he doesn’t like anyone touching his face or his hair, he warms up to it. likes the feeling of your hands in his hair. (also- mostly kiss his scars. he’ll actually cry. oop imma write a fic on that ✍🏻) he also loves loves loves when you shampoo his hair for him. gets him turned on. did y’all know thats an actual kink

would they spank you?

eren: definitely. more mid-fucking to see your reaction and the way you clench around him.

jean: likes to hold and squeeze your ass more as you ride him.

levi: oh fuck yeah. when you act like too much of a brat, he makes you go on all fours, or lay on your chest on his thighs, giving you spanks and making you count. talking to you after each spank, “will you be a brat again, huh?” spank, “you do it on purpose dont you? like to rile me up? hm? get me fucking mad like this?” another spank as he molds the flesh of your ass with his palm after each one, holding himself back from kissing the flesh.

face slapping?

already made drabbles for you slapping them

eren: yes yes yes. he would be a sucker for the innocent look in your eyes as tears swell up in them. he would do it repeatedly and keep bringing your jaw back to look at him after each slap.

jean: no, he doesn’t have it in his heart 🥺 would love if you did it to him.

levi: this is very difficult. i’ll leave it for you to decide between these two; 1. he doesn’t lay his hand on women. (spanking’s an exception in his book, other than that, hell no) 2. he only does it when he’s angry. like genuinely mad at you during sex, so that’s how he takes it out on you. but kisses you afterwards.

dacryphilia?

eren: hell yeah he loves when you cry for his cock, for him. this fucker does anything on purpose just to make you cry. gives a sadistic smile when tears finally come to your eyes.

jean: no, he wouldn’t wanna make you cry. although you do cry for his horse cock😩 he’d have a concerned expression on his face as he wipes you tears with his thumb, “what’s wrong ,baby?”

levi: absolutely not. literally despises crying. for himself and other. especially you. he’d wipe your tears as soon as they come when his dick is in your throat.

knife play?

eren: YES. he would purposely put a little pressure on the knife to scare you. this mfs a sadist. but he would be very careful to not hurt you. (if you ask why he would be into this but not choking you, it’s cuz with a knife, he knows he won’t actually fuckin stab you. he has control over the knife. his hands, he’s afraid not.) pain

jean: no omg— he would think you’re joking at first, his face forms the most horrid expression as he asks you if that’s an actual thing💀

levi: yes, he would never put pressure on the knife tho. he’d only glide it accross your body teasingly, the cold blade making you shiver under his touch as his eyes go dark. would like to do it to you when you’re blindfolded. doesn’t want you to see that dark look in his eyes.

blood play?

eren: yes. he likes to sometimes bite on your lower lip so hard it draws blood, he would keep kissing you, the iron-like taste not bothering him the slightest. it turns him on. also loves when you make him bleed by scratching your nails on his back, he throws his head back and fastens his thrusts 😩

jean: not really, my baby would get concerned— blood makes him uneasy 🥺

levi; absolutely not. too much ptsd and trauma from the sight of blood. doesn’t wanna see it painting your soft skin at all.

gun play?

eren: not really, he’s too violent to be handling a gun in sex.

jean: no—

levi: yes. he’d empty the gun beforehand tho, without you knowing.

candle wax 😳

eren: not really, he doesn’t like the redness it brings to your skin afterwards.

jean: likes if you do it on him, fucking loses it. he actually cries and whimpers, making you concerned but he nods his had swiftly, urging you to continue. likes the burn, reminds him of your touch, it’s not really any different from the burns your fingertips leave on him upon your touch.

levi: yes omfg- he loves it. he would also blindfold you for this one, probably tie you up too. loves to see you squirming in this situation. (omg i read this one fic on wattpad called “submit” and he was using candle wax and ice— AWOOGA)

ice play?

eren: yes yes yes, he’d run the ice down your stomach after rolling it on your nipples with his hands, he’d put it on your clit and chuckle as you squirm from the coldness of it. goes down on you to warm you up with his tongue afterwards.

jean: he likes it when you use it on him. holding the ice between your teeth as you run it over his nipples and down his chest. he’d be squirming and moaning.

levi: fuck yes. he’d put it in his mouth and kiss you with it, the ice melting between both of your tongues as he hums in your mouth. he’d also run it down your stomach and your nipples as he holds it in his mouth. the contrast of the cold ice and his warm tongue making you moan and whimper beneath him.

podophilia (foot fetish) dont read that as pedophilia uhm💀

eren: not really no, never crosses his mind.

jean: yes yes yes. omg absolutely this man having a foot fetish is canon to me😩 he’d love you giving him a foot job omf- would whine so much. also would kinda like licking your anckles and your toes as you giggle

levi: uhm. you must already know this clean freak. he thinks it’s fucking disgusting. i agree with him

ear fetish

eren: he likes it when you nibble on it or bite the shell of his ear. absolutely his weakest and sensitive spot

jean: not really idk why but no

levi: would nibble and tug on your ear as he’s fucking you, head burried in your neck as he pants and grunts.

food play?

eren: would loved to drizzle honey or whipped cream on you and lick it off your chest or stomach.

jean: would love for you too do it to him, with whipped cream or chocolate on his abs and chest, even his neck. he’d be a moaning, panting mess.

levi: does not like to involve food with sex 💀

chastity (holding back from sex to rile themselves or you up)

eren: hell no💀 he’s an impatient fuckin bastard. cannot handle going without fucking you for more than a couple days

jean: would love for you to do it to him. would beg you and plead as his cock throbs for days, though you know he likes it when you don’t give it to him instantly.

levi: yes yes yes. he would make himself go without sex for weeks. you have to beg him to stop and just let you fuck him, but he’d mutter sum about needing to “train his own stamina and self control, and your patience, brat.” but when you do break through him, trying to seduce him after weeks, it would be some of the best sex y’all have. going for rounds on rounds.

voyeurism

eren: as much as i love the “eren watching you fuck jean/reiner”— i think his possessive self will never ever let another man touch you. i mean cmon have u even read 139 🥲

jean: dont do that to him 🥺 he’s gonna be super insecure like omg- no

levi: absolutely not. do not test this man. he might not show his jealousy openly but you are his and only his.

role playing?

eren: i feel like he’s not that into it but he’d do it, he’s very picky so hmm maybe good cop and bad cop? 👀

jean: as i mentioned before, he’s very experimental and would do almost anything you ask of him, so yes. he’d be into doctor/patient ;) he likes it more when you’re the doctor but you can switch too oh my god bye now i’m thinking about jean in a white thingy doctors wear omf

levi: only captain/subordinate 😩😩😩

daddy kink

eren: not really, it makes him think about being an actual dad which turns him off 💀 sorry to crush yalls dreams 🤞🏻

jean: as i said, mommy kink. though he would like it if you addressed him as daddy while he takes control.

levi: no💀 finds it fucking weird. lowkey makes him sad n think about his dad and who he is or where he is he like being called captain sometimes tho ;)

degrading?

eren: fuck yes likes degrading you all the way. “look at you, my little slut.” “such a whore for my cock hm?”

jean: would like to be degraded 😁

levi: would keep it on the minimum— occasional “brat”s or “dumbass” jdjsjs nothing too intense. he has a way with his words :)

somnophilia sneaked this in at 200 when i forgot to add it cuz it’s my absolute fave kink

eren: he’d play with your body for minutes on minutes, loves to see you so responsive to his touch even in your sleep. he rubs slow circles on your clit, to get you wet. raises his brows when he notices you’re already soaked in your sleep. he literally fucks you awake. shoves his length in you balls deep as you scream and wake up— hitting his chest as he chuckles at you

jean: you’d both be asleep, until you wake up to the feeling of jean humping your thigh, whimpering in his slumber softly, you smirk. he’s chasing his high in his dream, mumbling your name as it’s barely recognizable. he wakes up to your mouth wrapped around him, cumming so fast as soon as he realizes he’s awake.

levi: he barely gets any sleep. but as he’s laying down next to you, head buried in his book while you’re stuck to him like a koala, he’s content. having one arm wrapped around your body and hand stopping at your waist. he’s brought out of the focus of his book by you moving against him. at first he thinks you’re waking up for some reason, then is proved wrong when you’re repeatedly grinding against his thigh, your leg wrapped around it. he chuckles, catching himself off guard. he watches as you hum in your sleep and say his name. he starts slowly meeting your grinds against his thigh, shaking it. he’s now rock hard in his shorts, teasing your hole through your panties with the hands on your back. you end up cumming in your sleep, he cums in his pants. fuck.

••••••••••

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

and there we have it— sorry if i left anything out- these are all the kinks i could think of for now 🥴

also ik i usually write hcs for aot and jjk boys but with this one, i kinda felt like only doing aot. since the paper i found had these 3 boys written on it 🤪

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 24:

You groaned, rolling over to grab your dinging phone off the nightstand. 

Rubbing at your eyes, you sat up against your headboard, breathing deeply. As it turns out, a highly emotional day like the one you had yesterday could really tire a person out. It was so tiring in fact that you had collapsed almost the second you fell into bed last night. You had been pretty much dead to the world since. 

Opening your phone, you nearly rolled your eyes at the text waiting for you.

You scoffed. He sure was petulant today, wasn’t he?

He began typing again, but deleted his words.

Now, you were a little nervous. You weren’t being clingy- right? Sure, you really wanted nothing more than to see him again, and sort of felt that maybe you were entitled to that considering he was your soulmate, but maybe the feeling wasn’t mutual?

Who were you kidding, he might have texted you but that didn’t mean he liked you as much as you liked him. This was Bakugou after all, and even if he somehow did, he’d rather chew his own leg off than admit it. 

You read through the texts again, hoping and praying that you didn’t sound too desperate. It was another few minutes before he responded again. With an answer that really did absolutely nothing to quell your fears. 

You blinked owlishly at his reply, before sending him a quick “okay”. 

Bakugou always seemed to know when you were overthinking things- and, on one hand, it was annoying because he never understood that him and his dismissive words were the cause, but, on the other hand, it was nice. To finally feel understood for once. And to finally talk to someone who’s responses, when he tried, were intentionally made so blunt that you couldn’t possibly misunderstand them.

Sighing, you pulled your tired body out of bed and headed for the shower. Apparently your plans, which had originally consisted of being lazy the entire afternoon, were suddenly changing. Not that you were complaining though.

--/--

Stepping out of the cab, you noticed the crowd once again swarming the front of the hospital. The horde of people almost seemed to be moving as one mass, pushing and pulsing against the security guards standing at the entrance. There were a lot of people covered in Dynamite merch and face paint, even little kids dressed up like Bakugou and feigning explosions as they played.

 It seemed that Bakugou’s heroic deed had put him back in the public’s favor and now they all had gathered in a show of support- and while you could appreciate that as a symbol of community, you selfishly sort of wished they’d leave so visiting him would be less of a spectacle. 

You realized suddenly that more of this was definitely going to be in your future; the crowds of screaming people and adoring, over-excited fans. Your soulmate was a pro-hero after all, and quite possibly the loudest man you’d ever met- you should’ve known a quiet life wasn’t going to be an option. 

As it stood now, you had almost no idea how you were going to make it through the massive throng of bodies- and, even if you did somehow push to the front, how you were going to convince the guards to let you through at that point.

“Excuse me!” A young girl suddenly grabbed your arm, tiny fingers clasping around your wrist. “Do you know how to get in! I need to get in!”

You were blindsided, stopped in your tracks and held down by the girl. She was young, but not much younger than you- if you had to guess, she was 17 or 18, with bright eyes and a strong grip that surprised you. This, her, was certainly not what you expected out of today.

“I- why do you need to get in so badly?”

“Bakugou!” She exclaims, eyes glazed over starry and adoring. She thrusts out her other wrist, presenting you with a poorly drawn tattoo. “See? I’m his soulmate!” 

Your stomach drops, and for a second you nearly believe it- but then you snap out of it, and all you can think about is how strange the situation is. She was young, so obviously young, and so clearly charmed by your soulmate’s hero persona. You thought it was a little funny- if she knew Bakugou like you did, you were almost sure she wouldn’t be as delighted with him. 

You weren’t sure how to respond. The immature, prideful part of you wanted to scoff and shake her hands off of you- to tell her just how foolish she looked talking to his actual soulmate. But, then again, you weren’t sure you could say anything about that at all. In all the research you’d done on him, you hadn’t seen a single mention of a soulmate- he never talked about it, never let anyone see even a hint of your name tattooed on him. Maybe he wanted to hide it for the sake of his career? Or, worse, was embarrassed of it?

“H-his soulmate, huh?” You stutter out, unsurely. 

“Yep! So that’s why I need to get in there so bad! To make sure he’s okay!” She rambles. “So, will you help me get in?”

“Y/n! Y/n L/n!” You hear a familiar voice yell, and when you look towards the sound, all you see is a flash of red hair and hands waving emphatically.

Kirishima. Thank god.

“I’ve gotta go.” You shake the girl’s hand off, slightly jostling her with the force.   “I’m so sorry!” 

You hardly recognize the disappointed look in her eyes before your arm is grabbed once again- but this time by a security guard as he leads you to the front. The guard deposits you at the entrance, just a few feet from where Kirishima is waiting for you.

“Sorry about that.” The red-head chuckles nervously, opening the door up for you. “I uh- I woulda said something earlier, but I couldn’t see you to point out for a guard. It’s totally my bad!”

“No, it’s good, you’re good.” You reassure him, following him as he leads you to the stairwell from yesterday. “Thanks for saving me. I was pretty overwhelmed.”

“Yeah. It can get pretty crazy out there- not as crazy as Bakugou, though! You shoulda totally seen him screamin’ and yelling at the window when you walked up. He was super pissed.”

“Sounds like him.” You can’t help but smile. “Doesn’t surprise me at all.” 

“Yeah.” Kirishima nods. “Who was that girl- you know her?”

Your silence and the uneasy expression that rolls across your face must give it away- he almost immediately pales.

“Oh! Yeah- sorry, none of my business, right?” Kirishima turns to face you, stopping at the step above you for a moment and throwing out placating hands. “It’s totally cool, don’t feel obligated or anything, I was just curious! Sorry for prying though, that wasn’t manly of me at all.”

You almost couldn’t believe Kirishima was such close friends with Bakugou- he seemed like the total opposite of your soulmate.

“No! It’s fine- I wasn’t offended or anything. Just,” You paused, looking at you feet as they climbed higher. “She wanted me to help her get in. To Bakugou. Said she was his soulmate.” 

Kirishima turns around again, his feet nearly catching on the step as his mouth drops open. “She said that? To you! That’s insane!”

“Yep.” You nod, slightly breathless and you finally reached the fourth floor. You let out a small chuckle as you continued down the hallway. “She was young though- definitely a fan, so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really want to crush her dreams in front of all of those people.”

“Man, that’s good. She’d probably be super upset, right? Good job!” He throws you an enthusiastic thumbs up, all shark teeth and bright eyes. “Still though- I shoulda guessed it was somethin’ crazy like that. You looked totally freaked out back there!” 

“Did I really?”

“Mhm,” He nods, finally stopping in front of Bakugou’s door. “I- uh, I better stay out here. He’ll be real mad if I let anyone else through. Especially if you’re in there.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” You push the handle open, turning back for just a moment. “Nice to see you, though. Thanks again for the save, Kirishima!” 

When you enter the room, you’re surprised to find Bakugou, grumpy and sitting in a chair next to the window. And not in his hospital bed resting- where you’re almost 100% sure he should be. He’s clad in a weird combination of hospital pants and his own sweatshirt- it only serves to make him look even more petulant as he sits with his pinched expression.

“You seemed real buddy-buddy with Shitty Hair.” He grumbles, but there’s a smile beginning to tug at his lips as you near. “You think he’s better than me or some shit?”

“Oh- yeah. Loads. Loads better actually.” You joke, taking the vacant seat next to him. When you turn to look at him, he’s already glaring at you. “Oh calm down, grumpy, I was joking. Box dye and bandanas aren’t really my thing.”

Bakugou laughs. “He’s been pullin’ that shit since high school. Kinda losin’ all hope he’ll ever be cool.”

“Hey- don’t be mean! Maybe he’s just an extra-late bloomer, you never know.” You sigh, fixing him with a serious stare. “Now, though, we should really move onto more pressing matters.”

“Which are?”

“You in one of these chairs, and not in a hospital bed!” You near shrieked. “Which- by the way, I looked it up- four stories is 40 feet! You fell 40 fuckin’ feet and you’re not in a hospital bed, right now!” 

Bakugou just rolls his eyes, fixing his gaze on the window once more. “Stop your freakin’ out already, woman, I’ll be fine. I’m already healed from all the big injuries anyway- so just shut the fuck up about it already.” 

“The big injuries- what about the small ones? Bakugou! 40 feet! Do you know how much that is! I feel like you’re not taking this seriously enough!” 

“Who cares.” He shrugs, settling into his seat with a slight wince. “Didn’t fuckin’ kill me, so who cares.” 

“Me! You idiot! How many times do have to make this clear to you!” 

Bakugou just looks at you, eyes widening as he breath catches. He looks genuinely and plainly shocked- easily the most expressive you’d seen him be aside from rolling in pure anger.

“I already told you, you fuckin’ asshole, that I like you and care about you! So of course I’m happy that you’re not dead, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the small stuff!” You emphasized, sighing as you run an errant hand through your hair. “And I can see you’re still fucking hurt, so of course I’m going to freak out when you’re not in a hospital bed- like you should be, and you’re not sitting there resting- like you should be! Who the hell even helped you up? Why the fuck would they ev-”

“Shut up already. I get it.” He mumbles, and when you look at him his cheeks are bright red and he’s biting his knuckle. His eyes are alive though- bright and simmering and so very, very red. “I got up myself. Don’t go blamin’ anyone else for it.” 

“God. Of fucking course you did! You know- you make yourself really hard to care for, right?” 

“I know.”

“And it’s just like- I do it anyway, you know! And get shit-all nothing but anxiety and still choose to do it anyway! You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him, but he’s already looking at you, something soft and pleased growing at the edge of his lips. 

“No! Don’t just sit there and start smiling.” You huff, pointing an emphatic finger at his stupid smiling face. “I’m mad at you and you need to go back to bed so don’t just fuckin’ smile at me!” 

“I get it.”

“No, obviously, you dont! Because you’re not getting up! So, c’mon,” You stand from your chair, offering a hand. “Let me help you.”

Bakugou just looks at your hand, glares at it, and stands by himself. You can see the strain plainly on his face- how the action winds him and how it sends pain shooting through his battered body. When you look at his eyes though, all you can see is resolute stubbornness. With great effort, and even greater determination, Bakugou manages to hobble over to the wall, dropping against it. His shoulders hit first, and then he’s rolling all of his weight back onto them.

You were stunned- not that he chose to do it, because of course he chose to, but mostly that he’d succeeded. You’d seen a clip of his fall, it was playing on the news before you’d left your house, and it looked nasty. When he hit the ground, all of his limbs were so mangled and impact alone knocked him out clean. The injuries he still had, broken bones and cracked ribs, at the very least, must’ve still been causing him great pain- and yet he surpassed those with sheer force of will alone. It would’ve impressed you; if seeing him in so much pain didn’t make you so sad.

“That didn’t look comfortable. I really think you need crutches, angry man.” You point to the bed. “Or you could just go lay back down, like you’re supposed to, and we could forget this whole argument.”

“No thanks. Done bein’ fucking fussed over. The only reason I haven’t left yet is because there’s people everywhere.” 

“And because you’re not supposed to, remember?”

“No. It’s good now. Nurse said I could.” He says, groaning when you stare back at him entirely unimpressed. He points to a bundle of papers and medication on the bed. “Look, gave me all the discharge instructions and everything. I’m not fucking lying.”

You walk over, flipping quickly through the packet of instructions. Bakugou wasn’t lying- he really was approved for discharge apparently, albeit under very specific instructions for not over-exerting himself. Which he was obviously doing so great at so far. 

Sighing, you folded the papers and placed them in the bag with all of his medicine. Regardless of what he wanted, you were going to make sure he took care of himself. And that included, taking all of the medication and performing the physical therapy outlined on the papers.

“Alright, then. Guess we’re going, after all.” You clap your hands together in finality, before grabbing the bag of medication. “I still think you need crutches though.”

You look him up and down, eyes zeroing in on the way he was huddled against the wall. All his weight was in his shoulders, and in any other situation, you might’ve thought it was an effortlessly cool pose- but not here. Not in this hospital room with him dressed in weird clinical sweats and a childish expression.

“I’m not getting crutches. Lame as shit.”

“Are you kidding me? Your body is literally beat to hell- who cares about how cool you look right now?”

Bakugou just nods toward the window, and you peer down to see the crowd from earlier still gathered below. It seemed like cameras and reporters had also joined, and they were making a worrying amount of headway to the door, pushing against security impatiently. It looked entirely overwhelming, if you were honest.

“If I leave with crutches,” He starts. “Then I gotta hear about that shit for fuckin’ weeks.”

“Are you serious?” You ask appalled. “You’re obviously injured! What the hell are they even gonna s-“

Bakugou just hits you with a pointed stare, and it stops you in your tracks.

He’s right. Any weakness- even crutches when injured- would read bad for his career. It would shatter the illusion people had of him. Of his infallibility and limitless strength.

“It’ll draw too much fuckin’ attention,” He elaborates, pulling the hood over his head. “No shitty sweatshirt could help me then.”

“Wait, that’s your disguise for sneaking out? A sweatshirt?”

Bakugou just nods, suddenly pulling the hood up and over his head. It flattens his wild hair against his forehead, and you nearly squeal. He looks adorable- although still very much like himself. You weren’t so sure this disguise would cut it, but you were pretty much out of other options. It would have to make do.

“Yeah. Okay. I get it, put the hood back down.” You pause, trying your hardest to think of another solution. “How about a wheelchair?”

Bakugou just looks even more offended- like your last request was a front to his very dignity. Hell, knowing him as you did, you figured it probably was.

“Yeah, fine, I get it, angry man- no wheelchair.” You sigh. “At least let me help you then? I mean, it looks like you need something at least.”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He refuses hotly, shifting his weight agitatedly against the wall. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, you should’ve expected him to be difficult about this. It seemed that appearing weak was his greatest fear; you thought that was a little ironic- that his biggest weakness was weakness itself.

“Seriously- please. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand, Bakugou!”

“I told you not to fuckin’ call me that, anymore.” He retorts angrily, but you watch him wince when he moves too much. “And I told you, I’m fine. So just shut the hell up about it already.”

You watch him for another moment, taking careful stock of the way he leans back on his shoulders and curls his arms around his sides. You didn’t ask him specifically- but you’re sure now, Bakugou’s at least got broken ribs- among many other broken and sprained things probably.

Fine, if he won’t readily accept your help, than you’ll just have to goad him into admitting his own failure.

“Hmm, sure, then step away from the wall then, hot shot.”

He’s quiet, but you watch as his eyebrows pinch and his cheeks redden.

“Why? Stop bein’ fuckin’ weird! I’m just standing for a second, leave me the hell alone, shitty woman.”

You just shake your head. It almost disgusts you how much rolling fondness smothers what should’ve definitely been annoyance.

“So, you’re telling me,” You start, walking a little closer to him. “That if you stepped away from this wall right now- that you wouldn’t immediately fold in half like a lawn chair?”

“No!”

“Okay. So do it then, pop rocks. C’mon. Let’s see.”

“I’m- I’m not just gonna fuckin’ do something just because you goddamn told me too!”

“Not even if it’s a challenge?” You tease, nearing him even more. You’re just a few measly feet away now, staring defiantly up at petulant red eyes. “Because it is- a challenge. I bet you that you can’t do it.”

“Fuck you.” He grits out, but then he’s pushing off his shoulders and standing straight. “See? That’ll teach ya to run your stupid mouth about shit you don’t know dick about.”

“Hmm, good words, Katsuki- expressive, even. We’ll see how long you last.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see his jaw clenched down; his shoulder’s strung tightly, the slight twitch in his calves. Katsuki isn’t going to stay upright for much longer.

You move before you even recognize it, sidling up to him and ducking under his arm.

“What are you- Stop! Get the hell away!” He barks harshly, but stands in place, not really doing much other than flushing violently. “It’s- I don’t need your fuckin’ help!”

“No, Katsuki, chill out- stop,” You laugh, rearranging his heavy arm over your shoulder. “If we’re doing this then I’m going to help you!”

“Lemme go! I’ll fuckin’ crush you, I don’t need your help!”

“Okay, yes, fine, maybe you don’t need it, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if you accepted it,” You huff, your hand wrapped tight around his wrist. “And you won’t crush me- I’m a big girl, I promise I’ll be fine. So just stop being stubborn- for me? Please?”

He growls, rolling his eyes to the ceiling- but then he’s shuffling closer to you and shaking his head. If you thought his arm was heavy before, you were sorely mistaken- when Katsuki finally surrenders, the solid weight of all his muscles nearly takes you out. You stumble for a moment before regaining your balance.

“Idiot. Thought you said you could handle it?” Katsuki looks down at you, smirking slightly before once again rolling his eyes. “Now, c’mon, fuckin’ get on with it, sunshine.”

You resist the sudden slight urge to nudge his ribs, or let him collapse to the ground- this was your idea, and you wouldn’t let your child of a soulmate talk you out of helping him.

“So, I was thinking-“ You begin to shuffle with him, slightly breathless. “We sneak out the back. Or something. There’s a crowd outside.”

“Already established that, several times, fuckin’ ages ago, dipshit- and of fuckin’ course there is. It’s me.”

“Oh my god, this is not the time for your ego!” You groan, but still keep a steady pace as you begin, towards the door. “Speaking of, though, one of your fangirls told me somethin’ real interesting on the way in, though.”

“Christ. What?”

“Apparently, she’s your soul mate.” You laugh, shallowly, trying to project a confidence you couldn’t feel. “C’mon, Katsuki, you should’ve told me! Total dick move that I had to find out from her!”

He scoffs, patting your shoulder with the hand strung across it. “You fuckin’ tell her off or somethin’?”

“Nope. I told her that I think you guys would make a really cute couple!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“No- of course not.” You say stopping in front of the door for a quick break. You suddenly weren’t sure whether you could really do this or not. “I didn’t say much of anything, really, didn’t know if I could.”

“Hah?” He looks down at you funny, red eyes squinting. “Fuck’s that mean?”

“You know, your career? Didn’t wanna say anything just in case.”

“Incase’a what?”

“I- I don’t know,” You stutter, suddenly feeling insecure. You focus your eyes on the tiles beneath your feet so you don’t have to look at his eyes. Eyes that you can feel boring into the side of your head. “Just in case, you know?”

“No. I fuckin’ don’t.” He says, mild irritation coloring his voice from above you. “Stop thinking so goddamn much, I can’t fuckin’ keep up- just tell me what you’re all worked up over.”

“It’s-“ You sigh, ringing your hands together anxiously. “You’re- you’re not embarrassed, right? Because, I know I shouldn’t have done this but I was looking you up again, and I just- I didn’t see anything about you having a soulmate? Anywhere? Ever? Do you just not want people to know or- because that’s totally fine, you know, like I get it, you’ve got this super big career outside of me and I’m totally fine if you just wanna like not say anything to anyone or lik-“

“Idiot. Stop thinking so much.” Bakugou tilts his head towards the ceiling. “I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed of you.”

“T-then why?” You ask hesitantly, while staring at your feet. You’re not sure if it’s the jarring movement as he rearranges his weight or your racing heart, but either way you’re feeling sick. “Actually- you know what, it’s fine, forget I even said anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just nods and stays silent. Then he looks down at you, at the way you won’t meet his eyes, and he groans.

“Fuckin- fine. God, you always make me say the most embarrassing shit.” He gripes, flushing slightly as you finally look up at him. “It’s not because of any of that stupid shit. It’s- I fuckin’, ugh, I didn’t want somebody else findin’ you or whatever before I did.”

“What? Find me? Who?”

“God, you’re fuckin’ dense.” He scoffs, but when you look up he’s still smiling lazily down at you. “People. Media. Fuckin’ villians probably too.”

“Holy shit.”

“Chill out. I kept fuckin’ quiet so you don’t gotta worry about that now. Besides-“ He turns his head away, cheeks flushing slightly. “I’d blast all those fuckin’ weaklings to hell if they tried anything now. So don’t get all anxious about it or whatever.”

You just look down at your feet, smiling at his words but still feeling unsure nonetheless. You understood- for sure, but that didn’t mean the weight of all these consequences was easy to bear.

“Now can we go? Are we done worryin’ about stupid shit?” He asks lightly, jostling you slightly. “Got more important things to do.” 

You nod, opening the door just to watch Kirishima stumble backwards.

“Oi- shitty hair! What’re you leanin’ against my door like that for?”

“Oh! Hey guys!” He greets cheerfully, before taking stock of the situation. He tilts his head. “You guys leaving?”

“Obviously.” Bakugou scoffs, but then he’s leaning in toward his friend, dropping his other hand heavy on the red-head’s shoulder. “Need ya to distract anyone who walks up here though. Gonna leave the other way and go out the fuckin’ back.” 

“Oh- yeah, okay! Got it, man! You sure you should be leaving though?”

“That’s what I said.” You interrupt, glaring Bakugou into silence as he tries to speak. “But he insisted- and I’ve got all his meds and instructions so I think we’ll be alright. Maybe. If we’re lucky.”

“Don’t just fuckin’ talk about me like I’m not standin’ right here, shitty woman!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so difficult all the time!” You retorted. “Now, you can handle it from here, right Kirishima? We really could use your help.”

“Yep! Totally got this! You guys go on ahead, I’ll stand guard right here!” He flashes a bright smile at you, before pointing down the hall. “There’s a staff elevator just down there. You should use that- it’ll probably be way faster. Good luck!” 

You just nod, smiling brightly at him as you pull Bakugou in that direction.

“Oi- not so fuckin’ fast!” He shouts, stumbling slightly.

“Keep your voice down, angry man! Everyone’s gonna know it’s you!”

“How the fuck is my voice gonna give it away?” He says, while simultaneously screaming like a banshee in the middle of an otherwise quiet hallway.

“Like that! So keep it down, good fucking lord.” You grumble, a breath of relief leaving your mouth as you finally near the elevator. You push the button, sighing as the doors open.

Bakugou shuffles away from you, leaning against the back wall and staring moodily at you as you press the button. The elevator surges downward, and after a minute or so the doors began to open again. You shouldered his arm once more looking up to see him pulling the hood of the sweatshirt farther down his face. He looked adorable and you couldn’t keep yourself from staring.

“Oi- fuck you lookin’ at, woman?”

“Nothing.” You laughed. “Now, c’mon, we’ve still got a ways to go.”

Sneaking Bakugou out was no easy affair to begin with, and he certainly didn’t help whatsoever. His frame was just too large and too heavy, and there was no possible way he could be quiet, especially considering his thundering steps, even when he wasn’t screaming. He seemed to attract attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. People were starting to stare as you booked it towards the back exit- you needed to move. And quick.

“Jesus christ,” You huffed, breathless and slightly irritated. You point at his stomach as you pull him along. “I know you’re hurt, but could you at least try and engage those core muscles you so obviously have?”

“You said you’d be fuckin’ fine, sunshine.”

“God, you’re difficult.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the sight of his amused little half-smile. “You think this is funny don’t you?”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but when you look up at him, there’s still that small smile edging at his lips. He seems to hold it, even through his grunts of obvious pain.

“Wow, of course you do. Immature, angry, loud man.”

“Who says I’m fuckin’ loud?” He asks hotly, pulling his shoulders in as you both shimmy through the, admittedly, small back door. “I’m not fucking loud!”

“God, you’re screaming right now! Do you even hear yourself?” You wince, but feel relieved as you help him hobble to the curb. “How’s a taxi sound, pop rocks?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. I hate it. Don’t do it again.” He grumbles. “But it’s fine- whatever, I don’t care.” 

“Great.”

You raise your hand up, nearly crying in relief when a taxi rolls up to the curb. When you help Bakugou in, and slide in the seat next to him, you’re almost overcome with satisfaction. Sneaking him out was one of the most difficult tasks you thought you’d ever taken on- both physically and mentally, and god, were you glad it was over.

--/--

As it turns out, explosive personalities don’t always lend themselves to explosive environments.

Bakugou’s apartment was clean, tidy, nearly spotless when you helped him walk in. It surprised you, truly, but he didn’t let you sit on that thought for long. He brushed you off, hobbling slowly down a long hallway without a word. It takes a few minutes, but Bakugou enters the room at the end and slams the door shut behind him.

Oh- What exactly were you supposed to do now?

In reality your fingers were itching to open drawers and rifle through cabinets, and just generally snoop but you, of course, knew better. So you instead chose to read through the instruction papers and medications once more- just to busy yourself and maybe see if there was anyway you could help him. Since, apparently, Bakugou was not keen on asking you for assistance himself.

You hear the door open again, and Bakugou comes unsteadily down the hallway, nearly collapsing when he reaches his couch. He’s dressed in new sweats, and he turns to look at you.

“Fuck you doin’ over there?”

“Meds, angry man.” You say, doling out the few necessary pills from a bottle. “Where’s your glasses?”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ do that.”

“What- you’re gonna force yourself to get up again?” You ask him, unimpressed. “You’re hurt, so just please let me help you. At least with this.”

He nods tightly, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Glasses are in the cabinet behind ya.”

You nod, filling a glass of water for him and walking the medication over. Watching as he took it, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. So you just sort of hovered next to the couch, arms around your stomach anxiously.

“What’re you doing- sit the fuck down already, idiot.” He pats the seat next to him. “Stop being weird. Freaks me the hell out.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You laughed. “Just didn’t wanna assume- in case you wanted me to leave or something.”

“Wouldn’t have let you in if I wanted you to leave. Dumbass.” He reaches over, flicking your forehead lightly. “Your stupid thoughts are clogging up the air. Stop it.”

“Hey!” You whine, rubbing at your forehead. “Not nice, angry man! I’ll let it go this time, but try it again and I promise you’ll really be hurting.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

He settles further into the couch, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. The mid-day sun floods through the window, hitting the column of his throat, and casting him in gold. You think he’s beautiful then. Far more beautiful than anyone else you’d ever known.

“Yeah, sorry.” You breathe out, suddenly a little nervous by your close proximity to him. “Think those’ll probably make you a little sleepy.”

“Fuckin’ stellar.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy- it’s just a nap. And besides, you should probably be taking one anyway.”

“It’s not that.” He peeks an eye open, lazily rolling his head to catch your gaze. “You hungry?”

“No- I’m good. Are you?” You ask suddenly. “I can totally get you something? Or make you something? What do you have here? What do you want?”

“Jesus, sunshine. Slow the fuck down.” He breathes, turning his head back to the ceiling with a small, fond, smile. He sighs sleepily. “I’m good. Just wanted to ask ya.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He mumbles something, but you don’t quite catch onto it. It’s quiet for a few moments, before his breathing is starting to slow. Your surprised at just how tired he seems to be, but then again, he was taking some pretty strong pain meds. As it stands now, he seemed minutes from falling asleep, and you were worried about the strain he was putting on his neck.

“Hey- you shouldn’t fall asleep like that.” You touch his shoulder lightly, fingers just barely brushing the fabric of his shirt. “Lay down, I’ll get up.”

Bakugou just opens his eyes, only glancing at you for a moment before he closes them again. Then he’s tipping over, a flurry of heavy limbs and awkward weight hitting your lap. When you look down at him, his eyes are squeezed tightly closed and he’s blushing wildly. He kicks his feet up off the floor, and settles in, quickly becoming deadweight across your thighs.

“O-oh.” You say, breathless. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Mhm. Now shut the fuck up, I’m tryin’ to sleep.” 

“Yeah.” 

You’re winded, short of breath and flushing bright red from his actions; but still, you find you absolutely can’t help yourself. So, with shaking breaths, you’re carding fingers through his hair before you can think better of it. 

When you look down at him, Bakugou’s only gone brighter red, but he’s smiling too. He stills, before suddenly peaking one eye open.

“Wake me up for dinner, alright, idiot?”

You nod and then he’s closing his eyes again, chest rising and falling slowly. He’s asleep and dead to the world in just a few minutes, but you can’t stop staring.

You knew you liked him- liked him a lot, as a person, not just a soulmate. You liked his weird brand of humor and his insults and death threats. You liked his masked concern and blunt words, you were even strangely fond of his yelling- but you weren’t prepared for just how much those feelings would amplify when he was so close. He was close, and warm, and breathing under your fingertips and you liked him so much. More than you’d ever liked anything or anyone else in your entire life. 

You were stricken, absolutely smitten, and there was nothing you could do about it. Or even wanted to really. So you just stared, eyes tracking his calm features as you worked careful fingers through his soft hair.

You understood now- why so many of your peers had told you they were jealous. Why they had all sighed dreamily when you told them, before immediately wishing to be you. Having a soulmate was inexplicable completeness and undeniable purpose- it was finality and new beginnings all in one.

You understood now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

//-//

ee soz this took so long!! no excuses lmao i just stupidly started playin genshin and holy shIT was that bad for my productivity ahahaha

hope u enjoy my lovelies!!!!

[thunder-at-dawn]

Hidden Book, Hidden Giggles

word count: 2,448

summary: tommy has a plan, and gets his brother involved. things are going very well, and wilbur is very proud of himself...until the plan fails.

it’s currently 3:30 in the morning when i’m typing this, so i’m not typing a proper intro OR spellchecking this until later. no beta we die like wilbur does in this fic /j anyway buckle up because i was VERY mean to wilbur in this one

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Tommy had a great idea.

Well, in his opinion, it was great.

And that idea...was to fuck with Techno all day.

Of course, Tommy fucked with people all the time. He was Tommy, that’s what he would do. However, tonight, Tommy felt like being a little bit more of an annoying little shit than he normally was.

Naturally, he went to Wilbur for help. His plan that he had come up with relied on the power of teamwork. Wilbur agreed to help out, reluctant at first. However, nothing was wrong with a little extra amusement that was provided by Techno slowly losing his cool. Both of them had also convinced Phil to help with the plan, which Wilbur had no idea how he managed to get him on bored.

The plan was very simple, but very effective. The three of them would each steal something from Techno that night, and then continuously hide it from him around the house all day. While Techno had gone outside to practice his swordsmanship, they each snagged an item from his room. Wilbur grabbed the book that Techno was currently reading, Tommy took his crown, and Phil stole his reading glasses. When Techno came back inside after hours of practice, he was too worn out to suspect a thing.

The next morning, the first thing Wilbur did when he woke up was to check and make sure that Techno hadn’t already foiled his plans. He let out a happy sigh of relief to see that the book was still where he had hidden it: in a small cabinet drawer inside his closet. He had opened it to a random page to take up less vertical space, and it was the perfect size to be stowed away.

Things continued like normal. Wilbur got dressed, headed downstairs, said hello to Phil and Tommy, and started prepping breakfast for himself. Not much was happening in their household today. He had planned to stay home, and as far as he was aware, Phil and Techno planned to do the same. Tommy had plans to spend the night at Tubbo’s place, but it wasn’t until the evening that he had to leave. As he cracked an egg over the frying pan on the stove, Techno came shuffling into the room.

“Morning, Techno!” Phil greeted as he took a sip from his mug of coffee. Techno nodded in response, heading straight for the cabinet and pulling out a box of wheat cereal. He flipped the box over, squinting and reading through the words on the back, before walking over to Tommy, who was sitting at the table and eating a sugary cereal of some sort.

The young teen looked up, an eyebrow raising. “...What?” He asked with a mouthful of cereal and milk.

“Tommy, I need you to read the contents of this box of cereal for me.” Techno told him.

“Can’t you just...do it yourself?” Tommy questioned.

“Normally, I would, but I can’t find my reading glasses anywhere.” Techno sighed with annoyance. “I can barely make out anything on this box.”

“Do you know where you last left them?” Phil asked Techno.

“I swore I left them in their case on my nightstand, but when I woke up this morning, they weren’t inside.” He explained.

“That’s...weird. Very, very strange.” Tommy said, pretending not to know the truth. Wilbur could feel his heart beating fast as he caught Techno staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but huffed out a quick sigh of relief when Techno only said good morning to him, and nothing more. As Tommy read out the statistics labeled on the cereal box, he silently hoped to himself that he and the other two would be able to keep their acts up all day.

After breakfast, Wilbur headed into his room, both to relax and to keep guard. He grabbed his guitar, closed the door, and sat cross legged on the his bed, starting to play. He had a couple of ideas for songs, and would play around with the notes that he strummed. His family would peek open the door and visit, chatting briefly. Techno even walked by and chatted with him, still not suspecting anything.

After a few hours of playing and relaxing, he opened the door, leaving the room to get a snack. As he made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, he found Tommy hunched over one of the counters.

“Hey, Tommy! What’s up?” Wilbur asked, stepping closer and opening the door to the fridge.

Tommy looked up, smiling as he saw his older brother. It looked like he was...out of breath? A bit strange, but Wilbur didn’t question. “Ah, Wilbur! Hey. How’s your part of the plan going?”

“Great.” Wilbur smirked as he pulled an apple out from the drawer in the refrigerator. “Technoblade came by, we had a nice little chat about swordfighting, and he hasn’t questioned anything from me since.” He said to Tommy, closing the refrigerator door now.

“What about you? How are things going?” He turned away to pick at the sticker on the apple and awaited Tommy’s response, but didn’t get one. He looked up, curious. “...Tommy?”

“Yeah...about that...Techno, um, got the crown back.”

“What? How?”

“I...he walked in on me trying it on in the mirror.” Tommy huffed, embarrassed.

“...Oh my god.” Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the silliness of this situation.

“I- I didn’t let him take it away from me so easily, though!” Tommy reassured, a pink tint on his face. “I ran around the room to get it away from him, but he managed to nag it. Not without me putting up a fight, I would never hand it over to him. Did you not hear me yelling at him and telling him how he would never get it back? We were pretty fuckin’ loud!”

“Mm, no.” Wilbur shrugged. “I had my door closed and was playing guitar, so I didn’t hear you guys.”

“Wow, okay.” Tommy blinked in surprise. “Well, he’s onto you next, so good luck. You’ll need it.”

“...Alright, thanks.” Wilbur shrugged as the two of them headed out of the kitchen.

Wilbur went back upstairs, apple in hand as he closed the door behind him. Instead of playing the guitar this time, he went ahead and put a music disc into the jukebox. The beats of pigstep played throughout the room as Wilbur sat on his bed, opening up a spare notebook, which had sporadic notes about possible song lyrics. He jotted down his ideas, nodding his head to the beat of the music. Probably about fifteen minutes had passed when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in!” He called out. Opening the door was Phil, who, like Tommy earlier, looked like he was out of breath. It was quite strange, Wilbur thought.

“Wilbur, hey mate.” His father greeted him. “So, would it be okay if you were the one to drop Tommy off at Tubbo’s later?”

“What? Yeah, that’s fine.” Wilbur nodded. “What, did something happen?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” Phil paused, looking left and right, as if he was being secretive. “I’m just a little worn out.” He said, putting his hand on the doorknob, about to close the door shut with no further explanation.

However, before Phil could close the door, he was stopped by a hand wrapping around his own. Looking up, he saw Techno intensely glaring at him.

“Keep the door open, Phil. I’d like to talk to my brother.” Techno said politely. Phil chuckled softly (and, by the sound of it, a bit nervously), nodding as he walked away, leaving the two alone. Wilbur looked up as Techno entered the room and closed the door behind him. What made Wilbur feel especially uneasy, however, was that he was wearing his reading glasses.

“...Techno.”

“Wilbur.”

“You...I see you found your glasses.” Wilbur said, feeling nervous already.

“Indeed I did.” Techno nodded, walking over and turning off the jukebox. “And you won’t believe where I found them.”

“Oh, really? Where?”

“They were in Phil’s nightstand cabinet. Turns out, he had stolen them from me. Just like Tommy had stolen my crown.” He said, making direct eye contact with Wilbur. “Now, the one last thing I’m missing is my book, and I was wondering if you had any clue where it was.”

“...Nope.” Wilbur looked down at his notebook.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Wilbur.” Techno rolled his eyes. “I know you took it.”

“I didn’t! Seriously!” Wilbur said, the nervousness setting in and becoming evident in his voice. “You can check my entire bookshelf, man. It’s not gonna be there.”

And that’s exactly what Techno did. He made a beeline for Wilbur’s bookshelf, scanning through each and every book. Pulling a few off of the shelf to investigate further, he went through the full thing as Wilbur simply hummed to himself and wrote down more lyrics.

“See? Exactly what I told you, it’s not there.” Wilbur said a bit smugly, proud that he was currently in the right. Techno huffed, starting to dig through other various things in Wilbur’s room, but not anywhere near the closet. At one point, Wilbur felt his heart fill with fear as Techno opened the closet door, but he only looked in there briefly, and didn’t do a full fledged look through, simply closing the closet door afterwards.

“...This is taking too long.” Techno grumbled.

“I’m telling you, I don’t have your book.” Wilbur lied. “You’re not going to find it in here.”

“You know what? Alright. It didn’t have to come to this, but you’re being stubborn.” In a swift movement, he grabbed Wilbur’s notebook and pen, tossing them to the side, then quickly grabbed Wilbur by the shoulders, lightly pushing him down and then grabbing his wrists, holding them above his head. Wilbur gasped in surprise, snapping his head up and looking at his brother.

“Now, Wilbur. Tommy refused to give me my crown, and Phil wouldn’t tell me where my glasses were. So, now, I’m going to use a strategy that I used on both of them, and it worked on both of them.” Techno explained calmly.

With that, Wilbur simply scoffed, a smirk on his face. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?” He asked, acting confident.

“Hmm...acting cocky now, are we? I’m not sure if you want to act that way right now, Wilbur.” Techno moved so that he was now sitting next to Wilbur on the bed as he laid down, and held his two hands above him with only one of his own. Wilbur did his best to relax, but the feeling of not knowing what his brother had planned was making him nervous. He stayed calm though...until he suddenly felt a hand squeezing at his right hip.

Wilbur inhaled sharply, giggling lightly and attempting to shift away from the hand. “T-TeHECHno! Whahat are you dohohoihing?!”

“Well, what does it look like I’m doing?” The piglin asked.

“Y-You’re squhuehehezing my hihihip.”

“Squeezing? That’s weird. The answer is that I’m tickling you, that’s supposed to tickle.” Techno muttered. “But, apparently, that’s not what you think, so I need to change that.” As he started clawing at Wilbur’s stomach, his eyes widened, and giggling turned into laughter.

“WA-WAHAIT- Wahahaihit! TehehechnOHOHO!” Wilbur started to squirm around, bringing his knees towards himself as an attempt to protect himself.

“Yes?” He asked, eyeing his brother.

“Yohohou’re- aHA- TeHEHechnoHO-!”

“Unable to form coherent sentences, are we? Well, I need you to speak if you’re going to tell me where the book is.”

“I dohon’t hAHAve ihihit!”

“Hmm...I don’t believe you.” Techno pushed up the bottom of Wilbur’s sweater so that his stomach was now exposed, and gripped at Wilbur’s wrists once again, holding them above his head. He shook his head so that his braid fell over his shoulder, then lowered his head slightly and put his plan into motion. Wilbur squeaked, laughing softly as he felt the tips of Techno’s hair lightly brush over his bare skin.

“This is your last chance, Wilbur. Tell me where my book is, and I won’t be nice anymore.” He said, the smallest of smirks on his face.

“Ihi’m tehelling yohou...I dohon’t hahave ihit.” Wilbur giggled, taking a moment to catch his breath.

“Heh...it’s your funeral.” Techno shrugged. He let go off Wilbur’s wrists, and immediately shot his hands down into the armpits. Wilbur’s eyes shot open, his arms flew down to his sides, and he quickly burst into loud, boisterous cackles.

“NAHAHAHAHA- TEHEHECHNOHOHO!! YOHOHOU DIHIHIHICK- AHAHAHAAA!!”

“Maybe if you had told me where my book was, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Techno said, speeding up the speed of his scribbling. Wilbur kicked his legs, laughing hysterically.

“IHIHI DOHO- NOHOHOHAHAHA!!”

“Don’t what? I can’t understand what you’re saying.” He said, acting oblivious. He continued for as long as he chose too, until Wilbur quickly screamed out his name, tears in the corners of his eyes.

“TEHEHEHE- TEHEHECHNOHOHO- AHAHALRIHIHIGHT! IHIHIHIT’S IHIHIN THE CAHABNIHIEHET!!” He yelled through his laughter.

“Which cabinet? You have plenty of cabinets,

Wilbur.” Techno asked, leaning down and taking a breath before blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Wilbur let out a scream louder tan be ever had before, hysterical cackling spewing out of his mouth.

“IHIHIN THE CLOHOHOHOSEHEHET!!! NOHOHOW PLEHEHEHEHEAHAHASE, STOHOHOP IHIHIHIT- EHEHEHEHAHAHAHA-!”

At Wilbur’s request, Techno pulled his hands away, standing up and opening the closet door, shuffling through the cabinet drawers until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the book, sat back down on the bed, looking at it for a moment, then groaned.

“...Wilbur.”

“Yehehes?”

“This wasn’t the page I left my book on, Wilbur.”

“Oh. Wehehell, how the fuhuhuhuck wahahas I suhuppohohossed tohoho knohohohow thAHAHAHA- TEHEHEHECHNOHOHO- WAHAHAHAHAIT, IHIHI’M SOHOHOHOREEHEHEEY-!” Wilbur shrieked as he felt a raspberry to his side, throwing his head back onto the bed.

“PLEHEHEAHAHASE TEHEHECHNOHOHO!! MEHEHEHRCY, HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHERCEHEHEY!!!” He pleased, tears streaming down his face.

“You’re asking for mercy? Well, now I know what to do when I need you to shut up.” Techno chuckled softly, standing up and heading out of the bedroom. “Oh, and I’ll see if Phil can drive Tommy to Tubbo’s for you. You’re way too tired and giggly to be able to focus on the road.”

Wilbur stared at the ceiling once Techno left, using the wool of his sweater to wipe away some of his tears. He needed time to catch his breath, and to plot how he would get revenge on his twin.

And how he would enjoy getting that revenge as much as he enjoyed this experience just now. However, he would never say that out loud.

[dreamteamfanblog]

Y'know, I don't actually have a well defined stance on the "Should We All Be Treating Dream Better In Prison" debate, partially because I haven't been watching the Smp regularly for a while and am most likely not up to date with everything and from what i've heard/seen I am kinda on the fence, so like, i'm not arguing for either the stance that Dream should be treated better in prison than he is or for the stance that nobody's obligated to be nice to him after the moral event horizon's he's crossed. Like. I am not making a stance on which is correct.

But I will say the debate in Dream's favour makes me a bit uneasy solely for the fact that it really seems like the long standing Dream Apologism (or at least tolerance) tendency back in full force. That's not me saying "We can't criticize the way the prison is set up rn", I myself don't know how I feel about the conditions in the prison. It's not the suggestion that conditions should be better in of itself that puts me on edge. It's the sheer unadulterated passion and fury and intolerance towards characters who aren't Dream next to this very lackluster mumbly noncommittal "hahh yeah that was really bad and not good :(" certain parts of the fandom extend when it comes to what Dream's done.

I see lots of people incredibly passionate about how Dream's mental health is bad now and he's not getting enough nutrition and he's being mistreated, and i'm not going to go on record and say I even disagree necessarily but I will ask where that energy is from these exact same people while Dream's continuing to regularly commit atrocities?

A lot of the "Dream Deserves Better Treatment In Prison" crowd will vaguely acknowledge that Dream is Bad and has done Bad things, but they never match the passion they extend in Dream's favour to criticize him with the same fierceness when it comes to things like his consistent and continued abusive behaviour towards poor Ranboo, the fact that he beat a child to death while locked in the prison together then laughed about it (then smugly taunted about how he could do it again and again and the people on the server were still his puppets), murdering Ghostbur/reviving Wilbur with no remorse or hesitance, etc.

I mean sure all but the most diehard out of touch Dream Apologists will very briefly acknowledge these things with a neutral-negative tone but it's literally so blatantly lackluster besides the same people's impassioned fury over how Dream's treated in prison.

And this isn't a new thing!

People are quick to downplay Dream's corruption in the early days of the Smp before the revolution, people are quick to minimize Dream's role in everything Schlatt did, people were a bit too hasty to insist back when the exile conflict first happened that he very possibly really was just upset with Tommy for griefing and probably wasn't even planning to hurt L'manburg or use Tubbo (which...we know is false now and honestly knew was false then too lets be real), hell, there was this whole cognitive dissonance mental gymnastics thing going on throughout season two where people tried to juggle both the fact that Dream's actively psychologically torturing a child all season and the idea that he's not really a tyrant per say and we don't necessarily need to shove him out of power cause has he really done that much to deser-

you get the idea

It's not apologism per say. When pushed people will acknowledge that Dream's a bad person or that specific things that are pretty impossible to ignore were really awful of him.....then cha cha slide right into "But is it REALLY okay to do/say/feel ____ regarding him???".

It's not apologism. But it is tolerance. And the expectation that his victims be tolerant as well.

During the early days of the Smp, Dream unfairly asserted an authority over people who did not want him to govern them. He dished out punishments, made up rules, dictated the lives of others, involved himself in conflicts that were not his business, etc, and when he was told to leave just a few of these people alone in just a tiny little area of land because his governing was unwanted? He asserted himself supreme authority, named his friend king, and then repeatedly killed and destroyed the land of like four people who literally just asked him to leave them alone and stop bossing them around for no reason. He was oppressive, he killed, he stole, he destroyed everything around him with no mercy because someone asked him to stop bothering them and not enter a plot of land that literally took up like a hill in a plains biome and nothing else at the time. There are one person houses on the server bigger than the original L'manburg land plot. Dream was a tyrant who took five canon lives in one day because he was so entitled he couldn't fucking handle the hit his overblown ego took over such a reasonable request. However many people, even people who will vaguely acknowledge that Dream wasn't a good leader back then, will actively ignore or even openly flippantly downplay his atrocious behaviour while also getting weirdly fixated on, like, the 'drug' van thing. Wilbur is a very corrupt person and he has been since before the Pogtopia arc, I will die on that hill, but within the context of the Independence War....L'manburg was entirely in the right? And didn't really do anything?? Like first off I really don't care how often they do the whole bit of calling them drugs, they're potions, the implications are not the same. Secondly, they literally just scammed Tubbo, and not even out of much all things considered, which are like, standard Dream Smp shenanigans, come on now, and like, when it was blown up and made into this big thing where now Tommy and Wilbur are going to jail.....everyone was kinda just like "wait what the fuck". Like. Eret and Tubbo both literally switched sides to side with Wilbur and Tommy midway through the arrests cause like...what the fuck. Like, as Wilbur himself pointed out, they didn't even do anything illegal, Sapnap just decided on the spot that it was and he's taking them into custody. Tubbo was literally the one person scammed and he was a L'manburg citizen from its very conception. The fact that people have always been so ready to minimize Dream's corrupt bs at the time while fixating on bUt ThE dRuG vAn is really weird. And while most people don't take it so far as to claim that independence was a bad thing to ask for full stop, they're also way too fuckin' keen on making L'manburg's side look a lot less innocent than it was and making Dream and his soldiers look a lot less corrupt, unreasonable, and power hungry than they clearly were at the time, instead implying that L'manburg somehow took things too far or had disingenuous origins despite not actually doing anything illegal or super immoral anyway, they were literally just asking Dream to back off from their absolutely tiny little patch of land and stop telling them what to do, and Dream was the one who declared war outright and then started murdering/stealing/pillaging/burning-and-exploding shit all over the place. A lot of people, even as they acknowledge he's Bad, expect an unreasonable amount of tolerance for Dream while being rather overly critical and judgmental of the other side of the conflict in question to an unfair degree. They aren't defending Dream per say, they're just fixating heavily on the other party's perceived wrongdoings while Dream is doing horrific atrocious things and just kinda gets vaguely handwaved at. Sometimes this dips directly into the "Dream was bad obviously, but was starting a revolution and war against him really necessary when it caused so much bloodshed :( ?" argument as well.

This carried on very neatly into the Manburg-Pogtopia arc, Dream's tyrannical oppressive destructive violent acts are acknowledged by a little "Dream's bad and all" and then is followed up by heavy criticism of the other side for doing something completely reasonable as the "Well, Schlatt was TECHNICALLY legally elected!" argument takes hold and it's implied that Pogtopia maybe shouldn't have staged a coup, I mean, that wasn't legal, y'know? Are they Just As Bad actually? Or if not just as bad at least also bad and therefore worthy of criticism? What right did Every Single Member Of L'manburg have to overthrow a democratically elected leader even if he did wrongly imprison them, exile his political opponents, tear down historical monuments, raise taxes unreasonably, and execute a child in front of a crowd? What about the Law? Aren't Pogtopia technically usurpers??? Isn't that Wrong™? I cannot stress enough how often i've seen people trying Really hard not to look like they're defending Dream while actively downplaying his actions and criticizing the rebellion on its legality as if Schlatt was not literally the only citizen of L'manburg left because he executed/exiled/chased-off literally every single other person in the nation wanted him gone because he was a tyrant and obviously his Legal Election doesn't counteract that despite people's attempts to argue that while Dream was bad (and schlatt too, though we'd be lucky to get any sort of description of what 'bad' entails here, much less one that does justice to how monstrous these people are) did we really have a right to force them out of office so harshly with violence?

Or going into the exile conflict, I like, instantly clocked that the plan was to isolate/hurt Tommy, drain L'manburg of whatever resources he wanted out of them, then destroy them. I think most people with two braincells to rub together at least picked up on some of his plan, and of course it's very obvious that what Tommy did was not exile worthy and that Dream would have picked up any excuse he could think of here. But of course you had a ton of people downplaying Dream's actions/intentions/motives. And somehow the weird hyper criticism of the victims got even more severe. Like. To the point where some parts of the community almost seemed to be engaged in a contest to see who could find the most ways to tone police Tommy, Quackity, and Fundy the most for being upset about tyrannical governmental abuse that put all of them in danger and functionally destroyed one of their lives. Like. They will literally downplay or brush right past Dream's shady horrendous bs so quick to jump right into their best point of how Tommy brought this upon himself or was too emotional or needs to learn how to control himself or is so Selfish because he dared be....baffled and angry by the random unfair disproportionate punishment when he didn't do anything wrong. This exact same bullshit extends to when Quackity and Fundy get upset and snap over the exile decision, people sweep right past how horrifically agonizingly atrocious Dream's actions were and then immediately start calling Quackity and Fundy hysterical at the absolute best but much more commonly manipulative or power hungry for the high crime of being deeply upset that a good friend of theirs was just unfairly exiled on the whims of a tyrant, to the point where there were people outright criticizing them for the fact alone that they dared be upset/question the decision instead of immediately politely accepting it and just letting the leaders responsible get on with their lives with no complaint!

And then the rest of the season was the same shit with people acknowledging Dream as bad but pearl clutching at any sign of action against him or people not being polite and tolerant of him. I think I damn near cracked when people watched Quackity call Dream a tyrant and insist he couldn't get away with treating people the way he does and immediately jumped into how dumb and reckless and mean spirited and power hungry and whatever Quackity is. Literally any time he spoke out against Dream for like any reason in any way! This also extended to anyone else whenever they weren't super palatably polite and tolerant of Dream and wound up immediately labeled all sorts of distasteful things because they actually tried to take action against him or even just had the 'audacity' to say some mean things to/about him or the people who help him commit atrocities! Dream gets away with just vaguely being Bad™ but his victims, whenever they aren't the picture of grace or respect or obedience for two seconds, become any number of very specific and very passionate insults and accusations.

They aren't Dream apologists, they don't condone or defend his actions, they acknowledge him as Bad, but they're so much more angry whenever people DO something about it!

Dream is bad™ but wasn't L'manburg escalating to independence like that so quickly in bad faith, especially after the Drugs™? Dream is bad™ but like he has a point that Schlatt was elected so did the people really have a right to stage an illegal coup there? Dream is bad™ but Tommy shouldn't have been so angry and reactionary when Dream tried to get him exiled for no reason, right? Dream is bad™ but can we really say it's right for Quackity to engage in mild skirmishes with him and insult him??

This weird tone policing in which anytime one of Dream's victims is harsh or mean with him they're suddenly *insert wide range of very harsh insults/accusations* is really weird. Dream is bad™ but if anyone does anything about it besides quietly/politely asking him to please stop that sir? They get harshly critiqued to hell for it wheras there's never any suggestion for what they should be doing besides Giving Him What He Wants Very Politely Until He Goes Away. Any insults or acts of rebellion or god forbid violence against Dream is so unacceptable and the people who do any of the listed things are just indescribably bad. Even when Dream hurts and oppresses everyone to this very day and shows no remourse about a single thing, I still see people out here doing this shit.

And, well, I see a lot of the "Dream Needs Better Prison Conditions" crowd be very critical of people who aren't Dream and literally every time they do anything that could be considered even remotely Mean To Dream and they get so much more heated about that then about the actual horrific things Dream has done.

So while I don't take a stance on the point itself at the moment, i'm at least very wary of the whole situation because there's this long standing precedent of fixating in on people not being palatable™ and respectable™ in how they handle interacting with the person responsible for brutal and consistent oppression against them, this long standing precedent when it comes to narrowing in on how Dream's effected by the people who's lives he's ruined acting out against him or not treating him well and absolutely refusing to extend empathy to the other party who, even when they do end up doing 'bad' things at any point, never do anything near as bad as what Dream's done and yet get significantly less sympathy or tolerance than he does. And while i'm neutral on the topic itself i'm deeply suspicious of this whole debate by nature of this precedent and how a lot of the Improve Prison Conditions For Dream crowd are openly much more empathetic towards him than any of the people he victimized and are more likely to brush by his honest to god unforgivable sins than literally anything at all from the objectively much more sympathetic/justified people he's hurt. It just all feels very familiar and i'm inclined to feel like a lot of the debate can read as worryingly disingenuous on that premise alone?

[zodiyack]

The Unforgivable Curses

Requested by @e-b-immortal: How about a witch reader x tommy shelby again But she just save john with magic and kill the enemies

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Witch!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, magic, murder, death, spoilers?, angst

Words: 1,320

Summary: (See Request)

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @simonsbluee, @peakysputain, @cai-neki, @darling-i-read-it, @fandom-puff, @jenepleurepasbaby, @marquelapage, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @peakyxtommy​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I believe the witch reader concept started here

Watching what would have been her brother-in-law’s death was mortifying. Tommy sent her to watch over his cousin and brother, her secret no longer a secret helping him in his decision making, and she soon agreed with his point. His original concern had to do with the black hands, hers now related to the uneasiness her gut held. It was too...weird.

Nothing was “normal” in her life, but this was a different kind of peculiar. This was an evil kind of peculiar.

Like time was moving in slow motion, her head whipped around to spot a gun beginning to rise. It was all the time she needed to simply whip out her wand and apparate in front of John then grab him and Michael and apparate out of the way. Esme was already out of their line of fire, so she was safe and didn’t require saving. The gypsy woman watched her sister-in-law with wide eyes that contained a pleasant mix of horror and awe. Y/n grinned before ducking down to dodge a bullet that flew at her head.

The bullet she dodged had just slightly grazed John’s shoulder. It still caught him off guard enough to cause panic to emit from his mouth. A loud cry rang through Y/n’s ears and summoned a beast inside her, one Newt had yet to discover. Her wizard friend was too far away to make the discovery now though.

“Arresto momentum!” Her spell made the unrealistic rate of speed real. Time really was moving in slow motion. She watched as every bullet moved slower than a sloth. The Shelbys, and Gray, behind her held three equal doses of confusion but their amusement was fleeting

The thing was, she wasn’t done yet. A darkness clouded her eyes.

Of course, Esme had been filled in on the different spells and what they could do, Tommy and the rest of the family as well, but Esme was the most observant involving the craft. She felt her skin pale and her heart drop to her stomach when she realized what was going to happen next. Tempted to reach out for her sister in law, had she not held back by her husband, she screamed.

“Don’t do it! It’s not worth it, there are different ways! Muggle ways!”

“What are you talking about, Esme?” John narrowed his eyes at his wife.

She turned to her husband with an urgent pleading expression. “Remember? The unforgivable curses, dumbass!” Esme swatted at him but quickly gave up. She was wasting time. “Y/n said that witches and wizards usually are corrupted by the fuckin’ dark curses! She swore to never take part in them!”

John gulped. He developed Esme’s fearful exterior within seconds, exchanging glances with Michael and then running at the same time as his cousin to Y/n.

“What the hell are you doing!? Get off!” She tried to nudge Michael away softly, but his grip on her wand wielding wrist never relented. “Don’t make me do this.” A sincere warning that he ignored yet again. Her other hand grabbed the wand and aimed it towards Michael, “Depulso!”

Michael began moving backwards. He looked to John with a stern nod of his head. They would do everything in their power to prevent Y/n from losing her innocence in her magic. However, Y/n was quick to spot him, flipping her aim as she shouted, “Depulso!”

Fortunately, John observed her when she did the same to Michael. He dodged it and continued pacing forward. Every shout of the spell he managed to just barely miss. Unfortunately, Y/n had now observed John.

“Incarcerous!” Ropes flew at the blinder and tied with unimaginable strength. He was left tied up and shouting, no way to stop Y/n. The shouts only quieted for a moment. A moment in which Y/n gave John a soft empathetic look before turning and following through with her plan. The look told him wordlessly that this was the only way. To trust her.

“Expelliarmus!” The guns flew in every which way, the slow motion’s affect drawing out a small snicker from John. Which elicited a glare from Esme.

The slow motion spell lingered away with the guns, and the men previously holding them looked around desperately. Some men jumped off to grab their weapons once they’d spotted their spots on the ground, but were practically thrown- the literal effect of the spell- back by the words murmured by Y/n.

“Everte statum!” Esme held her breath subconsciously. Y/n had yet to speak the one spell she told the group that she so greatly despised. She had yet to corrupt herself. “Expulso!” The guns broke apart, exploding where they lied, thus preventing the enemies from using their weapons.

Time returned to it’s feeling. The spell was no longer there, but they swore time had slowed again. Esme almost whipped her head around to Y/n to ask what she’d done until she noticed it wasn’t the spell.

It was like a film in the theatre; an entire movie that felt like it went on for years when really it was no more than an hour. A film that flashed the mafia’s life before their own eyes, the four across from them just characters they never asked for. A film that would be their last.

“Avada kedavra!” The words left her mouth with only slight hesitation. She convinced herself it was the only way, a repetition of the phrase to herself was the small nudge she needed to give into the curse and kill the men in front of her and her family.

A few moments passed, Y/n unmoving, standing in the same spot for the small bit of time before she turned and walked to John. “Let me see your shoulder.”

“What? No!”

Esme swatted his arm, “Let her see it, you fucking bloody idiot!”

He groaned before extending his arm and moving his night shirt over the wounded shoulder. A wince left his mouth as the cold air nipped at his bloody skin on display. “Vulnera sanentur.” The pain was gone and his wound was slowly mending itself.

Y/n turned and removed herself from their conversation for the second time. She sat upon the stairs, arm resting on her lap and her cheek held up by her palm. Esme watched with a furrow of her brows. She felt bad for Y/n, afraid even. When they’d discussed spells together, the mention of the killing curse had spooked Y/n.

It was a joke, at first. Esme was jabbing at the Blinders’ work, but then a question involving the killing part of the job popped up. Y/n assured her over and over that it wasn’t her fault, but now she couldn’t help but feel a massive wave of guilt. Y/n had just preformed the one spell she said she could never bring herself to do. Had she truly been corrupted? Was her warning true? Was she not an exception of dark magic’s addicting ways?

“It isn’t over, you know? They’re still out there, and from the looks of it, they don’t plan on walking away.” Y/n spoke up, startling the three.

“Well... What are we gonna do about it?”

“Whatever we can. We’ll think of something with the rest when we get back. For now right now though,” she paced around the property, “rather- before we leave, I have to do something. In fact, I’ll do it wherever  we deem necessary.” Her in lawed siblings and cousin waited for more context in her explanation before they heard a familiar spell.

The spell was one she did when they were threatened a different time. The threat was not as big as their current but it was just as, if not a little less, serious. They’d engraved the spell in their minds, thankful to its usefulness, for how grateful they’d been that it exists.

A warm feeling took hold of them; Y/n wasn’t corrupted. Y/n was determined.

“Protego totalum.” (protection spell)

[petitprincess1]

My Roommate’s a Demonic Deer Ch8 (Still 4 Months Later)

AO3 Link Summary:  Alastor and Anthony both feel a bit of paranoia for this day out, but a small heart-to-heart (in their own way) puts them at ease. Words: 1,124 I AM SO SORRY. I know I explained the situation, which I will keep up for future readers, but I still feel really bad for making you guys wait. It's not a long chapter, but I feel like it's better than doing nothing at all. I really hope you guys enjoy! Warning: Mild paranoia and panic attacks. ~~~ Alastor felt himself slightly become paranoid at the thought of Anthony being near another person, especially one that he didn't know. ...Granted, he doesn't really know anyone that Anthony knew, but still! It made him feel...like he needed to guard him, keep an eye on him at all times.

…..Cherri could easily be working for  Valentino or even is trying to earn some money! Alastor's not being paranoid, it makes perfect sense! Anthony often could be closed off about those that hurt him, so it only makes sense that he just assumes Cherri is a friend. Yes...yes…

Al then shook himself off and sighed, saying to himself, "Alright...now, all I need is some form of a disguise. I refuse to wear the awful clothing they have nowadays, however." ~~~ Anthony rocked on his heels as he waited for Alastor or Cherri to appear, wearing his crop top still, but switched the sweatpants for some shorts. He wasn't expecting the deer man to even say yes to the idea, if anything he thought the demon would have him grovel. The bastard seemed like the kind of jerk to do that. Then again, he had been a bit nicer to him ever since the story. Maybe...things were turning around?

The boy thought for a second before snorting, "Fuck no! That asshole jus' wanted me ta shut up or-"

He then flinched at feeling his phone buzz and his heart dropped. A slight choked feeling came about him as he took out his phone from his pocket, shaking while doing so. The Italian's eyes were closed as he unlocked his phone and opened an eye slightly. A huge relief waved over him at seeing Cherri text him, "Out front of this dump, waiting for ya, Angie!"

The freckled, spunky girl also had a picture of herself with her tongue sticking out and holding up a middle finger. Anthony felt so dumb for getting so worried. He knew Val rarely texted, but….the silence was unnerving. Who knows what that fucking sociopath was gonna do to him when he came back. Hell, who's to say that he won't even be there or anywhere!? ...Maybe going out was a bad idea. Yeah, he can always just back out. A quick text is all he needed to. A text and he'll be perfectly sa-

"Are we ready to go, my dear fellow?" Alastor’s chipper voice broke Anthony out of his panicked state. He took a deep breath and turned around, looking up instinctively, "Yeah, yeah. Cherri's out…."

He trailed off when he didn't see the normally tall deer demon and instead saw a dark-skinned man. Anthony figured it was still Al, since he was sharply dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks and had a large grin on his face, but it was still shocking. He….He was shorter than him!

The lad waved his hand over the top of his head and Al's black, coiffed hair multiple times. Granted, it was only like an inch or two of difference, but it was an immense change from the seven foot demon. Anthony did this a few more times, only because he could see the annoyed twitch in Alastor's grin. The disguised demon asked, fixing his glasses and taking a deep breath, "Are you quite done?"

Anthony blinked at him and did it one more time, snorting at the light red glow in his eyes. He grinned, "Hey, don't get mad at me! I'm jus' shocked ya actually got yerself a human disguise and one dat's actually fashionable, ya know?" Alastor blinked at him and whispered, "I can still cut open your stomach and rip out your entrails like a magician pulling scarves, you know?"

The lad just waved him off as he went walking out the door, "Enough cute flirtin', Al. Cherri's waitin' fer us! I think yer gonna like her, 'specially since ya adore me~"

He winked at Al before leaving out into the hall with a chuckle. Anthony ended up missing Alastor becoming so comically flustered that his ears and tail appeared on his body. The disguised demon mumbled a curse at his magic betraying him and wondering why it was even acting such an odd way. ~~~ When the two were in the main lobby, Alastor grabbed Anthony's forearm, stopping him before he could make any sexual joke, "Are you alright? I felt you become...uneasy before I asked if you were ready."

Anthony’s grin immediately dropped as he looked away and muttered, "I'm alright, Al. Geez, I'm startin' ta think ya got some- hey!"

He shouted at feeling Alastor’s grip tighten and the man narrow his eyes at him, the smile on his face becoming more strained. The boy's eyes narrowed, as well, and he huffed, practically yelling, "I'm fine! Jus' was worried about Val, dat's all! It's really no big deal, Alastor! Don't gotta worry 'bout me when I'm jus' bein' fuckin' stupid and actin' like a pussy!"

Alastor's previous worries about Cherri working for Valentino slightly diminished, since he also felt sudden relief from Anthony. However, he still had a weird nagging in the back of his mind. Either way, the disguised demon released Anthony’s arm and told him gently, "I know I don't...but that's why I do. You don't have to worry. I'm here."

Anthony seemed shocked at the response and even somewhat flattered. He cleared his throat and mumbled, looking at the floor, "Uh, well...thanks, I guess." Al nodded, "Of course. After all, why would I want to feel like a mess all day because you can't keep your silly, petty emotions in check."

"Yeah, well, fuck ya too, Smiles!"

The two stared at one another before chuckling, clearly showing this was all just fun games. Suddenly, a freckled girl with wild hair appeared at the entrance, poking her head in and shouting, "Yo, gaybirds! Get out here before I leave ya two!"

Anthony shouted back, "Yeah, we're on our way, tittums~!"

The girl practically cackled as she left out and Anthony went running towards the front door. Wanting to hurry but not feel too uncouth, Alastor just quickly walked towards the entrance. The landlady shouted out to Anthony, "Don't be bringing any mud into this damn place, Anthony! You'll be cleanin' it up!"

The boy shouted as he left out, "Suck my left tit, Karen!"

Before Alastor could leave as well, the landlady advised, "Oh, young man, please do be careful how you act outside. It may be normal for the boy, but some might be frightened by your...talents and protective nature."

Al stared at the woman for a few seconds before nodding, "Of course, milady! I wouldn't dream of ruining le cafard's day out."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 4: Caged

CW: Referenced whump of a minor (sorry, Trainee!Chris), brief implied noncon of a minor reference, noncon touching (of adult), referenced pet whump, referenced bruising, referenced dubcon/noncon of adult

John Ferrick and B (referenced, unnamed) belong to @moose-teeth and is used with permission

“Hey, Manning, look at this.” Luke waggled his phone - standard company-issue, big enough to be more a tablet than a fucking communication device, but the company paid, and they didn’t care if Luke had a few game apps installed on the side. 

Connor glanced up from his own lunch, where he was picking at “shrimp fettuccine alfredo”, which at least got the pasta and sauce right, but contained the three smallest shrimps that Luke Petrus had ever seen. A side salad, some garlic bread, and Connor’s usual bottle of made-at-home iced coffee completed the meal.

This was why Luke volunteered for overnight multi-day shifts and got to have his little studio apartment down in the long-term halls. He ate whatever the fuck he wanted. Which, granted, was mostly nachos and cups of soup, but the point still stood. 

“What is it, Petrus?” Connor sounded bored, but he mostly sounded like that all the time these days. Moping around like he had a stick up his ass, and Petrus kind of missed the fun Connor Manning, but whatever. Some of the handlers got that way after a while, and they’d cycle through the fucking mopery and come out the other side, in the end.

Or they’d quit.

Or pop up in a white shirt and shorts.

“Look at the stupid shit my trainee’s doing right now.”

Connor didn’t even perk up a little at that, and his eyes shifted away, looking across the bustling cafeteria, eyebrows furrowing just a little. Petrus shifted in his seat and turned to look as well - he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just a few handlers and Ferrick from Acquisitions in line for lunch. He sighed and turned back. 

“Come on, Manning, try to look like you have a well-paying job with great benefits for five minutes, huh?”

Connor blinked, looking back at him. “Uh, yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m just…” He waved his fork near his head in a vague gesture. “Not having the best week.” He shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “What did you want to show me?”

Luke grinned, flashing bright teeth. “My trainee. Look at him.” He handed over the phone, pulled up to a live view from the camera installed in the corner of the ceiling of his current favorite trainee’s room.

Connor’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Fuck, this is one of the underagers. You know I hate that shit, Petrus. Fucking sick.” He handed the phone back over, but Petrus only pushed it back.

“Nah, forget about that. Just look at what he’s doing.”

The short little trainee, drowning in the white t-shirt and black shorts, and with his shock collar cutting apart the pretty line of his neck, was pacing. 

His coppery hair shifted in the constant cold air blowing into the room from unseen vents as he moved - a few steps from end to end and back again, over and over, stepping one foot carefully in front of the other, heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe. There was no sound to the video, but Petrus knew if there was, the boy would be counting, one step two step three step four step, in his low voice, stammering through the words. 

The stammer was cute, but he’d get rid of it before the prospective took him home.

The trainee turned and walked back the way he’d just come, toe-to-heel-to-toe-to-heel, until he hit the wall again. Then turned around and repeated it. Covering every single inch of tile along the floor, from one side of the tiny room to the other, before he started it all over again. His hands were twisted into his shirt, kneading and pulling at the thin cotton. His head jerked to the side on occasion, bumping into the wall, in a rhythm only he understood. 

Petrus snorted, while Connor only looked at it, almost blankly. “Pacing like a fucking tiger at the zoo in his little cage.” Luke’s voice dipped into affectionate warmth. “He’s gorgeous, right? Pretty little thing, now that I fixed his little defiance problem, and so eager to-”

“Stop.” Connor snorted, jabbing his fork back into his pasta.

“You can’t tell me he doesn’t look good like that.”

“He looks like a fucking teenager, and I stopped thinking high schoolers looked good when I stopped fucking being one, you perverted piece of shit. On the outside, someone like you would be in prison.”

“Oh, and you wouldn’t, you fucking rapist?”

Connor sat back, pale except for bright red spots on his cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, good point. Maybe we should all be in prison.”

“Manning, that isn’t… Jesus.” Luke sat back, staring slightly wide-eyed, caught off-guard. “I just don’t see why you give a fuck if he’s under eighteen.”

Connor glanced up, and there was a weird spark of anger in his dark eyes that made Luke oddly uneasy. “Because I don’t go for that, and you know it. When I was-… it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. 499’s got energy like you wouldn’t believe, you’re missing out. Although it’s a pity watching him wear himself out. Hate to let him get it out in there when he could be using it correctly on my training table.”

Connor handed the phone back over, shrugging, his eyes back on the line over on the other side of the room and not on Luke at all. “Then go fucking train him, Luke. Stop showing me underagers, you know I hate that shit. I don’t think we should do that, I don’t want shit to do with it. The Director made a monster fucking decision and-”

Luke leaned forward, voice dropping into a hissed whisper. “Jesus Christ, Manning, shut the fuck up, you know it gets back to her when you talk shit about her ideas. She was the one to introduce the program-”

“And it was gross, and a fucking mistake. Gross as fuck.”

“Oh, like you’re so fucking innocent. Sanctimonious asshole.” Luke pocketed his phone, swallowing against a mix of defensiveness and residual unease. “Keep your holier-than-thou shit to yourself if you know what’s good for you.”

“I don’t give a fuck who hears me, let them go pass it along to the Director. I don’t give a fuck. All of this… no. I don’t care about it anymore. I just… I just don’t.”

“Then quit. It’s a free fuckin’ country - leave if you hate your job so much.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ well will.”

“When?”

Connor’s anger died, all at once, and Luke was struck by how much he looked like one of the pets, in that moment - haunted and uncertain. Luke wondered what the fuck was wrong with him these days. Connor had been a top handler once, always cheerful, always smiling - now he was calling in sick all the time, acting like this in public where anyone could see him do it… criticizing the Director, for Christ’s sake. 

“As soon as I can,” Connor said, in a low voice. “As soon as I fucking can. As soon as he’ll sign off on my baby.”

“Your what-”

“Don’t make me look at that poor kid again, Luke.”

“That poor-… he’s a fucking pet like the rest of them, Manning. You should talk to the company therapist or something if you’re feeling like this.”

“And have the Head of Training Operations hear about my fucking feelings? No fucking thanks, Luke.”

“Yeah, well. I’m going to go wear the shit out of that trainee. Get your fucking head on straight, Manning, before someone important notices it’s crooked.” Luke pushed himself to his feet, thumb rubbing over the camouflage phone case, frowning in thought as he walked away.

John Ferrick’s lunch tray dropped onto the table next to Connor with a clatter and Connor jumped, keeping his eyes down, red flaring in his face. “What the fuck was that, Manning? You and Petrus don’t chitchat.”

“He wanted to show me his fucking trainee. You know how he is.” Connor picked at his food, not looking up as Ferrick settled himself comfortably into the seat next to him. He tensed when Ferrick’s hand slid over his thigh, rubbing into the inside through the fabric of his work pants. “Ferrick, stop it-”

“Try again,” Ferrick said, smugly, sliding his hand up even higher, pressing hard into just the right-

Connor hissed through his teeth as Ferrick’s thumb pressed into a bruising set of teeth marks. “Shit. Fuck, Ferrick-”

“What, already? I didn’t wear you out during our ‘poker game’ last night?” Ferrick began to rub in circles over the bruise, around and around the spaces where his own teeth had dug so deeply into Connor’s skin that you could probably use dental records to identify who did it. “You want me to stop, use your fuckin’ manners.”

Connor’s teeth ground together audibly. “Please stop, sir,” He managed to spit out, barely moving his lips, in a whisper.

Ferrick’s hand shifted back to pick up his own little plastic fork. He’d chosen the vegetarian option, black bean cakes with salsa and sour cream, and hummed happily. One of his favorite cafeteria meals, really. “Better. Maybe I’ll let you see your dog later, if you keep being so polite.”

“I can’t wait until he’s ready so I can tell you to fuck off as I drive the fuck away,” Connor muttered. 

Ferrick just smiled. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m damn good and ready to let you go, Manning, and you know it. Not if you don’t want me to declare your fucking dog too broken to be fixed… or let the Director know about your hot little pain problem.”

Connor swallowed, and honestly… he wished he could start pacing right now, too.

There was more than one way to be caged.

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 13)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 1964

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​

**Song Inspiration: Sober - Pink; Forever is a long time - Halsey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hayden spent all night feeling horrible about what he’d done, but he felt it was right. He barely slept, and now he didn’t know if he needed to find a new place. Not that that was the most important thing right now, but it was a factor he may have to deal with soon. 

You rolled out of bed and groggily went into the kitchen to make coffee. You were a bit surprised to find Hayden already there. 

“Uh, I made coffee,” he informed.

You nodded and went to grab a mug as he began talking from behind you. 

“So, I think we should talk about last night,” he started but you turned around. “I’m sorry, and I’ll start looking for a new place today--”

“No, it’s fine. I, um, I did some thinking,” you said, waving him off. “You.. you might be right. Maybe we did jump into this too fast. I’m not the type to do that at all. I think everything through, but maybe this time was different. I think you’re right. If we take a break and in a year, we still want each other and everything lines up, maybe we should talk then.” 

He gave you a sweet smile, nodding. “Yeah, I think that’s wise. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything.”

“You didn’t,” you assured with a shake of your head. “I’m fine, honestly. I think you should stay here. I mean, unless you’re too weird about it. I still love having you around and we can still be friends. There’s no point to put you out on the streets. We can still be friendly, right?” You grinned at him. 

You were telling the truth. 

It hurt like hell that he didn’t want you romantically right now, that he wanted to think you two were in some rebound phase. It wasn’t true for you, you knew this, but maybe it was for him. So you were willing to set up a time frame that might work for him. Give him an out. Not to mention, you didn’t want to lose him as friend. He did bring more light to your life than any boyfriend or friend ever had, and you didn’t want to lose that just because you broke up. 

Having Hayden in your life was more important than some stupid pride. 

“Yeah, yeah of course,’ he agreed, nodding. He stepped towards you and hugged you. “I completely agree. I’d love nothing more than to be friends.” 

His words made you sting. His touch made you feel as if you were on fire. But you ignored it all and put on a brave face.

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

The next several days were hard. You weren’t sure which were harder -- being at work at the hotel or the studio away from Hayden or being near him. Seeing him didn’t brighten your day like it used to. You thought it would. For some stupid, silly, naive reason, you thought you’sd still feel warm when you saw him, but you didn’t. All you could see was the man who didn’t want you.

Someone not wanting you was nothing new. Your old friends had stopped checking on you a long time ago, despite your efforts to reach back out to them. All you had now was Hayden and the new people in Trey’s.

But now you didn’t even have Hayden, not really. You tried to make sure things weren’t awkward and just go back to how they were before, but you couldn’t. How could you? How could you pretend you didn’t want to kiss him when he gave you that warm, fond smile? How could you not run your fingers through his hair when he came out of the shower, his hair still wet and looking absolutely hot and adorable? How could you not want to rest your feet in his lap while you two watched TV for a few free hours? How could you not want to cook and clean together and joke around, but then wrap your arms around his waist like always? 

No, life couldn’t return to normal for you with Hayden. That was just no longer an option, the ship had sailed long ago and there was nothing to do about it. 

What made it hurt all the more was that this was always how it happened. You thought everything was fine, you thought things were good and then suddenly, poof - the guy was gone. Were you just blind to signs? Were you just too clingy and guys could sense it and it sent them running? Did you just fall for everyone who was afraid of commitment? 

You should’ve seen this coming. He was with a woman for ten years, had a child with her, but never married her. If that isn’t a sign of a fear of commitment, you weren’t sure what was. 

The parties of Trey’s continued and you decided to frequent even more of them, trying to find any excuse not to be home. More parties meant more alcohol though and you decided to get drunk every night, but then you’d wean off of it, so by the time you got home, you were practically sober again. 

Feeling the thoughts of Hayden fade away with every sip of your drink was fantastic. You weren’t one to usually seek out the bottle in times of distress, but when in Rome… The parties, the company, the drinking -- it all took your mind of Hayden, and you desperately needed it. 

Eventually though, it wasn’t enough. 

The drinks weren’t enough to make you forget about him. He bled through. You were still crying over him at parties. 

One night, you were talking to Darren about it. He was your drummer after all and you’d spent a lot of time with him, became friends. You two were in a booth at a club, in the back corner, talking.

“I just… I just want him back,” you all but sobbed.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “use your heartache as a tool for your music, babe. All the best musicians do. Nothing sells more records than heartbreak. Let me tell ya.” 

You nodded. “You’re right, I should.” 

“Fuckin’ a, I’m right. But… if you’re that hung up on the guy, I can help you forget.” 

You frowned. “Forget… like?” 

He nodded before pulling out that white substance again. You felt uneasy about it. 

“Look, I’m right here. I won’t leave you all night. I’ll watch you take it and I’ll keep you safe,” he vowed. 

For some reason, those words, that promise to protect you, it was all you needed to trust him. Forgetting Hayden would be ideal. You’d never hurt this bad. All you did  was nod before he helped you. He poured a tiny amount on your hand, and instructed you on how to take in the substance. 

Once it hit your system, you felt funny. 

“Darren, I don’t feel so good,” you started, feeling extremely anxious.

He held onto you. “Hey, shh, shh, you’re okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. Just ride with it, love.” 

You nodded slowly and let the feelings wash over you naturally. That was all it took. The rest of the night you partied, you danced, you felt great. You weren’t thinking about Hayden at all, and it finally felt amazing to be free of all this heartbreak that had weighed you down. 

That was just the first night. 

Every night after work, you tried to find a party with Darren, or anyone in his circle and you asked for a hit. Hayden was your drug before, but now he was gone. Something had to replace him. 

The routine became the same, and you’d end up home, at the end of your high, with Hayden already in bed. He never saw you drunk, high, or anything other than straight laced heading into work, if that. 

One night though, shortly after you got your hit, you got sick to your stomach. Veronica, a mutual singer friend of Darren’s, offered to drive you home. You took her up on the offer because you were an odd mix of feeling as if you were invincible but also feeling as if you’d throw up. 

She got you home, found your keys, and got you inside. Hayden heard the commotion around 1 AM and came out ot see what was wrong. 

“Oh, hey,” Veronica greeted. “She’s kinda sick so… Who are you?” 

“I’m her roommate,” he said. 

“Ah, okay, cool. I’m gonna leave her in your capable hands then. Just wanted to make sure she got home safe.” She sat you in the chair at your dining room table and waved goodbye as she dropped your purse and key near the door. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Hayden asked as he came forward, he started to kneel in front of you but you jumped up. 

“No, not really,” you snapped while you got up. “My stomach hurts like a mother fucker. I need to lie down.” 

Hayden started to grab your shoulders so he could get a good look at you. “Hey, come here. Let me see you.”

“What? No, why? Get off me,” you ordered, wrenching away from him. 

But he got a good enough glimpse. He saw your dialated eyes and that’s all he needed. “Jesus, Y/N. Are you fucking high?” he demanded, angry. 

“Why do you fucking care?” you asked, walking around him. 

“Because I do,” he insisted. “What the hell are you doing? What are you thinking? This is really how you want to start your career? High?”

“Me being high and singing have nothing to do with each other. Last I checked, it’s not any of your fucking business what I’m doing,” you seethed as you got in his face. “It’s my life and you checked out of it a long time ago. If you were ever even in it.” 

“Of course I was in it! I supported all of your talent. I still do. I still think you can make something of yourself without having to be high as a kite to do it.” 

“You’re not my fucking parents,” you angrily reminded.

He retorted, just as angry, “I still give a fuck about you.”

“Yeah you made that very clear when you said you just wanted to be friends,” you snarled.

“What? Because we aren’t sleeping together, it means we don’t care about each other?” he asked, flabbergasted at your outrage. He was just trying to help you, trying to sort out what was going on with you, and you were so angry at him. 

“No, because you just up and left! Because we were perfect, we never fought, and then just like Jason and all of my other ex’s you just threw me away. I guess I’m only good enough to distract men, huh, just not actually commit to? Well, screw you, screw all of you. I’m good enough for Trey and that’s all I need.” 

“I never said any of that! I never said you weren’t good enough, I just said maybe we were rushing into things and I don’t want it to feel like a rebound.” 

You shook your head. “Call it whatever you want, but the bottom line is, you left!”

“So this is how you act? You get drunk every night and now you’re high. You’re never this reckless.”

“Well now I am! You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need this. I want you out. You have until tomorrow night to get the hell out. I don’t like having to answer to anyone in my own god damn home.”

“Y/N,” he stressed, sighing, exasperated.

You gave him a cold look before retreating into your room and closing the door to deal with your sick stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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