#I would be completely useless in a time loop

[leonarecs]

PIZZA. this was such a fucking masterpiece, i’m in tears and i haven’t even gotten to part two yet??? i know how much love and soul and dedication you poured into this fic and it truly was so so fucking worth it. i think i told you this before when you first sent me bits and pieces of this fic, but seriously, i can feel every bit of the reader’s heartache in this. its so potent and real and i feel so incredibly honored to be friends with such a talented person!! okie now let’s get into this…

Dark and brooding, his eyes scan through the crowds of students like an eagle targeting its prey before they relax set on you. As he makes his way ambling towards, his eyes soften, his lips curving upwards, at the crouched position you sat.

the way he melts when he looks at her 😭 ‘best friends’ my ass, he was so down bad for her from the very start, UGH they’re so dumb

His fingers hook over the spine of the book, pulling it down to see your sweet face. “Hey there Ace.” 

THE WAY I SQUEALED AAAAHHHHHHJFH this is the cutest fucking thing it’s so romcom coded i’m gonna burst. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, you always include the tiniest details that make me go insane!!!

“You know I hate that damn nickname. It’s not a good representation of me. You’re going to scare off my prized possessions with the softness.”

okay first of all, that’s a LIE, you love the nickname, and second, FUCKING EWWWWW “prized possessions” I’M GONNA THROW UPPPP HE’S SUCH A MAN 🤢🤢🤢

It cut deep to know Mattheo was hurting too, every time he would lie quietly in your arms. A homely embrace that often was the only way he could fall asleep, the treacherous nightmares finally blurring away into nothing but distant dust particles.

HE. COULD. ONLY. FALL. ASLEEP. IN. HER. ARMS. SHE HELPED HIS NIGHTMARES GO AWAY. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. i genuinely don’t know how to put my feelings into words at this moment so i’m just going to shut up and use memes instead.

It stung he’d never considered you an option, someone willing to open his doors, to melt the hardened rock that caged his heart, to patch it up with a warmness he deserved. But maybe it was your fault for always being available, too in reach, desperate for any time he threw your way. Mattheo loved the chase and if he was a dog, you were about as exciting as a flobberworm.  

i’ll never get over how good you are at capturing emotion like this. no exaggeration, this is just so beautiful and i can feel my heart aching for her. ‘never even considered you an option,’ OUCH IF ONLY YOU KNEW. and her thinking she’s not exciting to him. babe, this is the chase of the century to me.

You felt it too, feeling like the two of you shared something special, but nothing ever changed, nothing more ever came.

I CAN’TTTT, THE WAY SHE KNOWS THEY HAVE SOMETHING BUT SHE CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT PLEASE

And so you were stuck with just watching from afar as he broke your heart, shattering it into tiny grains of sand slipping through your fingers into an hourglass. That turned over and over at each new glimpse of hope, an endless time loop that had you feeling useless. 

no words. just in complete adoration of this metaphor and your brain.

His courteous and considerate nature was at large all day, making sure your basket was full of every Honeyduke flavoured candy, to reaching for magical assortments on the highest shelf in Zonkos.

i’m melting at the way he spoils her goodnight

Swarmed by a couple of girls stalling his exertion of returning to you, though he’s chatting away to them happily as if he has all the time in the world.

oh. yeah i take that last part the fuck back. the fact that he’s not even thinking about how she’s waiting outside in the cold for him while he’s just talking to other bitches? i can’t tell if my heart is aching or filling with something that says ‘punch him.’

Dean widens his grin, finding yours utterly gorgeous. “Going in right?”

DEANNN YOU BEAUTIFUL GENTLEMAN, COME SAVE THE DAY PLEASEE

“She’s fine. She’s with me.” Mattheo’s voice grabs your attention as he finally appears at the doorway, coldly shoving past Dean, his eyes narrowing into unpleasant slits meeting the Gryffindor's eye.

oh, mixed feelings here. glad he’s jealous, upset that he ruined my moment of happiness 😾

He wouldn’t allow anyone unworthy to take up a moment of your time, and a lousy shithead, Gryffindor, definitely didn't tick the box. 

oh please, dean is the furthest thing from a shithead 🙄✋

Call him selfish, but with the long history and close bond the two of you shared, he had always felt you were his. His friend, his study partner, his number one supporter at quidditch games, his go to for advice, his favourite person to pester lovingly, to sneak up on or make you laugh so hard tears would stream down your adorable face.

AUGHSHFH I JUST—… this pisses me off bc he’s such a hypocrite, expecting her to be completely his and give all her attention to him when he doesn’t do the same in return for her. but also… i love a possessive man what can i say 🥹 it’s one of my flaws. ‘down your adorable face’ ADORABLE EEHGFHASFG I’M GONNA CRY

He’ll find himself outside your dorm as if the hallway is lit with a thousand glowing signs guiding him.

this is incredibly random but the thought came to me so i have to say it. you know in the movie brave, how those little blue whisps guided merida to wherever she needed to go? thats what i’m imagining right now

“S‘good to me, Ace.” He pushes himself up further into the bosoms of your chest, his arm dangling heavily over your shoulder and his own fingers tickle the nape of your neck. “Don’t know what I'd do without you.” 

i’m hurting rn

mattheo when asked to explain his feelings for reader ^^

Dean, like Mattheo, was stuck on the interaction, daydreaming about the small, fond moment he shared with you. How your smile had warmed your face with a radiance unlike any other he’d seen before

AWWWWSAGSDS HE’S SO CUTE

When he had heard through the grapevine that Eli, his closest Hufflepuff friend, had grown and started a routine studying session with you twice a week. He practically leaps at the chance and the boy to let him tag along

do men actually do this too? i thought only girls daydreamed about tiny little moments and conspired plans to meet their crushes like this 🤯

The conflicting rising affections for Dean begin to sprout vines along the already fortified stone wall Mattheo has set inside your heart. 

THIS SENTENCE HELLO????? i’m in awe its such good imagery

His laugh only deepens, and he reaches over grabbing the cutlery, “Let me you damn klutz.” You watch his hands grip the silverware, his veins popping prominently under the flex of his movements. 

CUTTING HER FOOD FOR HER THE DOMESTICITY I’M SOBBINGGGHGHG also the veins omg i came

“Want me to feed you too, Ace.”

yes actually yes please

A multitude of inappropriate names and answers filter to the forefront of your brain, like a slideshow that practically screams ‘You’re horny for your best friend!'

LMFAOOOOO my mind right now: daddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddy 

A habit he undeniably loves, only wishing it was his lips you were so sensually nipping. 

ok now i’m horny again that’s not fair 😐 you can’t play with my emotions like this

“You giving me attitude now, little brat?.” He grabs your head into a tight headlock, rustling his knuckle into the crown of your hair, envisioning putting you in your place in an alternative method.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME I’M CUMMING AND WE HAVEN’T EVEN DONE ANYTHING JSDHFJFGHSDJGFFSDKG

“Yeah, it should be entertaining. Kind of hoping to use it as an excuse to finally get that stuck-up bitch Everly, to at least let me get to second base. No offense.. to women.”

the way i would fucking drag this man out to the courtyard by the hair… god give me patience he’s so fucking GROSS FOR SAYING THAT, TF YOU MEAN STUCK UP??? gonna slap him… on a lighter note, this also made me giggle a little bc that last bit reminded me of diary of a wimpy kid, the part where the mom finds a magazine rodrick had with a bikini model on the front and she was like “do you have anything you want to say to women for having owned this offensive magazine?” and he was like “… i’m sorry, women” LMFAOOOOO

The casual standby and unbothered appearance tightens his chest knowing you don’t care what he does with girls. It breaks him never getting a real reaction, and only fuels his conclusions regarding you only seeing him platonically.

oh so he says this shit to her on purpose. to make her jealous. to get a reaction. FUCK. YOU. but also omg feelings 🤗

It pains him to utter the next few words, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t tag along, of course. You know I'd never ditch my number one girl.” 

FUCKKKK YOUUU DUDE IF I WAS YOUR NUMBER ONE GIRL YOU’D BE GOING WITH ME INSTEAD OF TELLING ME TO “TAG ALONG” AND THIRD WHEEL

“You have a date?” He cuts you off with a little hostility.

the italics on ‘you’ pain me, like he thinks it’s impossible for someone to like her (ik that’s not what his thoughts are but that’s how it feels to her ☹️)

No fucking way. He looks between you and back to Dean, feeling an upchuck of jealousy gurgle in his stomach. The clocks churn, working overtime to filter through his memories. The same dazed smile you cast to him in Hogsmeade reflects on your expression as you wave back. 

he’s suchhhh a fucking hypocrite, i love the jealousy but he’s so annoying

He’s not used to this kind of hostility from you, and while he feels a wave of pride, he can’t wrap his head around you getting angry at him over the sake of a Gryffindor. 

HIM BEING INTERNALLY PROUD OF HER FOR SPEAKING UP FOR HERSELF UGHGHGGHG MY HEART

He walks with Everly confidently hanging off his arm, looking like a sparkly prized charm that, you know, means his eyes won't be anywhere but on her. 

it hurts please stop, one second i’m swooning and the next i want to be far far away from him

He's as attractive as ever, dressed in all black. His curls look decent for once, coiled neatly, which might have made you swoon, but you can't help question if she did it for him.

instantly i thought of this pic

What he really needed was you, a nice tall glass to satisfy his thirsting desire. His eyes linger on you for another moment. You look nice. Who’s he kidding?  You look gorgeous. It’s such a simple outfit and yet it suits your figure so well. He doesn’t know the last time he saw you so dressed up, definitely never for himself like that. 

YEAHHHHH BITCH NOW YOU’RE HORNY FOR ME SUCK IT UP 🖕

He wanted to stand beside you now as the group moved to the stage and scream the lyrics with you in each other's faces. He wanted to have your smile directed at him and be the one to spin you, listening to your infectious laugh meant for only him. 

stop now i’m imagining them doing just that and i want to cry. they’re so fucking cute together.

But Dean isn’t one to back down from a little intimidation, and eyes him, “I see what this is about. You're jealous, aren’t you?” 

call his ass out king

In the split second the word leaves Dean's lips, Mattheo connects his fist with his nose. There’s a loud crack of the bone and Dean yelps, grasping it as blood streams covering his fingers. 

IT TOOK TWO SECONDS FOR HIM TO SNAP OMGGGNDGHG

He meets your gaze, his eyes lighting up at seeing you noticing him properly, but then you’re walking towards him hastily. He has little time to escape before the familiar pulling pain shoots from his ear down and he yelps, cursing. 

I’M CRYINGGG NOT THE EAR PULL LMFAOOOO I LOVE HER

“He doesn’t even like you, y/n, he’s still hung up on his ex - I don’t know why you’re wasting time with him anyway, you’re not that oblivious, are you?”

that’s so fucking mean 

“Fine. I can see I’m not wanted.” He’s bitter and heartbroken as you completely disregard him with no trust. But he holds his tongue further, not wishing to damage the ship. “I’ll stay out of your way to avoid ruining your life further.” 

my heart is literally clenching shut up. why do i feel bad for him right now when he literally did this to himself.

You had been the one to ask Dean. 

WHAT A FUCKING WAY TO END IT OH MY GOD. the fact that he only processed that part when he got back to his dorm?? the fact that he was trying not to CRY?? i’m so done.

jfc i’m scared to get to part two, BUT i know we have a happy ending so its okay, i can power through 🙏 i currently feel the same way that i did as a child after watching that spongebob episode where gary ran away, i need to—

She will be loved

Sum: Reader is hopelessly and madly in love with her best friend Mattheo while constantly having her heart broken living in the shadows of other girls. Unaware that he’s hiding a secret and unable to express the truth about how he feels for her too. Wc: 8.7 k

Warn: This is part one, as it was so long, I decided to break it up. angst, (V angsty I guess), fluffy, use of Ace nickname, one mention of blood, bit of y/n in there, swearing - you will probably be unhappy with Mattheo in this part. Eli, Everly and the eloquent editorial are all made up by me.

A/n: inspired by the song she will be loved for my delayed milestone!!! (apologises for those who have been here since april ilysm!!) I also listened to butterflies which I think encapsulates their relationship more! dividers from here & here 🩵

You watch with eyes peering over the book, keeping yourself conspicuous while your heart clenches once again at the way he talks to her. The arrogant smirk, the subtle touches and sultry words that leave his sweet lips, and she’s caught hooked as he digs his fangs into another victim. Bagging another venture for some late-night plans, watching the way his hands squeeze her hip in farewell before he turns, and his eyes shift their gaze.

Dark and brooding, his eyes scan through the crowds of students like an eagle targeting its prey before they relax set on you. As he makes his way ambling towards, his eyes soften, his lips curving upwards, at the crouched position you sat. You avert your gaze downwards to the words you’ve continuously reread appearing busy on his arrival. 

His fingers hook over the spine of the book, pulling it down to see your sweet face. “Hey there Ace.” 

With nowhere to hide, you drop the novel and grin up at him. All feelings of hurt wash away as you greet your best friend. “Hi Matty.” His lips curl scoffing at the nickname, with an over dramatic eye roll, and he plants himself beside you with exhaust, leaning back into the bench seat. 

“You know I hate that damn nickname. It’s not a good representation of me. You’re going to scare off my prized possessions with the softness.” His lips mumble out, pursuing a cigarette between them, his hands covering the end to light it. 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at his careless habit, “and you know I hate when you smoke. Can’t win every battle.” You ignore his comment about the girls he likes to collect as trophies. It’s easier if you pretend your feelings for him don’t exist. 

His eyes light up in amusement at the remark, “Touché little Acey.” Pulling back the cigarette, he playfully blows his next exhale in your face, making you fan it with your book. A deep chuckle cascades out of him smooth like honey, and you swoon internally as it vibrates from his body to yours. 

His eyes stare off into the distance, thinking for a moment, and you take the time to study his features. Something you often did, unable to help yourself from admiring the boy you loved. He was gorgeous. But of course he knew that, and so did every other girl in school.

Sometimes you wonder how life would be if you had never stumbled upon the then frightened boy hidden out in the wooden dockyards. If the two of you had never bonded so closely, then maybe you would have had a chance with him, too. 

Despite sharing similar trauma, one of the mainframes of your relationship, you still felt he was holding back. Not that he couldn’t trust you, but someone who has gone without love for so long, struggled with giving it and even harder to receive it without any doubt. 

It brought him comfort knowing you would always be there for him, always when he was in trouble, a helping hand, a guiding light. At times, he felt like you were the only one he could go to. 

For you, it was a curse and a blessing. You loved him truly as a friend always. But something lay deep beneath those friendly feelings, a growing sensation that burned in your heart. 

It cut deep to know Mattheo was hurting too, every time he would lie quietly in your arms. A homely embrace that often was the only way he could fall asleep, the treacherous nightmares finally blurring away into nothing but distant dust particles. He’d never been fully able to express the gratitude he held for you being in his life, in how you made him feel seen like he finally was someone of importance and not for his lineage. 

Someone who mattered and deserved to be loved. Even if he continued to suffer in denial over his conflicting thoughts about you as more than a friend, that kind of emotion never came easy for him to express. He’d freeze up as if Medusa herself had flashed her eyes, turning him instantly to stone. His palms clammed up, heart slowed and in the end he’d brush it off with a joke and bury those ambivalent feelings. 

But the way he felt for you was nothing like anything he’d ever experienced for anyone. You were kind and compassionate, with a heart of pure gold; the complete opposite of him. As far as he believed. He cared for you like you were kin, a treasured item with the utmost value, and it was his duty to protect. It was the only way he knew how to articulate those weakened feelings, soft thoughts of vulnerability taught to hinder. 

So he acted like a dragon, almost guarding you fiercely, and sometimes a little cold even to you by being overprotective. His loyalty and possessive nature grew stronger over your years at Hogwarts. The fear of destruction lingering behind every action, spiking his anxiety controling him like a puppet on a string, the dread of losing you dangling dangerously.

If something were to happen and he was the one to watch your bright flame flicker and extinguish because of the chaotic whirlwind that is his life, he’d never forgive himself. It didn’t matter anyway, he had all but virtually convinced himself that you felt nothing for him but brotherly love. So he kept you at a distance, not allowing anything to fester outside of platonic.

His eyes dark and contemplative glimpse down the corridor, admiring the newest gaggle of girls who flocked, his hair moving with the calm breeze that floats through the concrete archways. Students bustle around between the transfiguration courtyard, moving with enthusiasm for what the weekend brings as classes wrap up for the day. You can't tear your eyes off how he checks them out despite already scoring a date for later. Your jealousy is so potent it's a good thing he can’t smell it. 

You knew he was wounded, seeking enrichment and attention through women. A way to fill his emptiness from the absence of love he sought. It stung he’d never considered you an option, someone willing to open his doors, to melt the hardened rock that caged his heart, to patch it up with a warmness he deserved. But maybe it was your fault for always being available, too in reach, desperate for any time he threw your way. Mattheo loved the chase and if he was a dog, you were about as exciting as a flobberworm.  

He was a boy with a broken smile, and to most it seemed to only stretch wider when you were near. You felt it too, feeling like the two of you shared something special, but nothing ever changed, nothing more ever came. And so you were stuck with just watching from afar as he broke your heart, shattering it into tiny grains of sand slipping through your fingers into an hourglass. That turned over and over at each new glimpse of hope, an endless time loop that had you feeling useless. 

“I saw you got partnered in potions with that Badger boy. How’s that going?” His voice slices through your thoughts, redirecting your mind to the present, and you blink away the tattered heartbreak. His eyes are now observing you, lips sucking in the nicotine he badly craves, before his head falls to flick the butt against the seat.

You don’t catch his own undertone of jealousy laced in his curiosity, for it wasn’t odd of Mattheo to pay attention to how guys acted around you. You were, after all, someone significant to him. “Oh Eli? yeah, he’s fine. We’ve got plans to study in the library this weekend.” 

“You can’t. We have plans.” He rebuttals hastily, his voice low with a hint of seriousness that means don’t push him. His eyes study your reaction, letting out a drag before he continues, “Come on, I think it’s time I owe you that trip to Hosgmeade together. I know how badly you want to go.” He raises a brow, flashing you a boyish grin, his seriousness simmering with hopes of convicing.  

The suddeness in which he jumps at your long ago suggestion, one you’ve been pestering him about for weeks. The one always met with a shrug and a sheepish sorry-excuse decline that he has other things planned. A small frown forms in confusion, till you toss the idea over and the mere idea that he’s finally free to go with you overturns the doubt and you mirror his smile, excited and giddy.

The idea now blooming in your chest of spending a whole weekend with Mattheo. His smile widens at the fact he knows you so well, and he gets you out of your plans. “Okay, yeah, I’m sure Eli won’t mind waiting. We were getting ahead of ourselves, anyway.”

The day spent in Hogsemade went fast, a wonderful speed drive of hyper adrenaline that radiated deep in your chest. It was a dream, everything you’d imagine a date with Mattheo would be like. Which was a problem, because this most definitely wasn’t a date. 

Mattheo was a notorious charmer. For someone who grew up with unusual and pratically zero social contact, he was surprisingly quick on his feet. He knew the way to sweep and woo a girl with the subtlety of a chameleon, and the ability to match anyone's aura as easily as alternating his colours. 

His courteous and considerate nature was at large all day, making sure your basket was full of every Honeyduke flavoured candy, to reaching for magical assortments on the highest shelf in Zonkos. All little thoughtful things that had made you woozy with delusion and a pounding heart that rang out like smashing symbols repeatedly. 

Mattheo, though he might never admit it, was always subtly paying attention to you. You were his best friend, and he wanted to keep you near, concealing his longing gazes with reasons of just  being defensive. A part of him felt responsible to repay you in the best way he knew how, if not with words of gratitude - avoiding ripping down the robust fortress that protected his vulnerability - he’d be there in other ways that held less hardship on him. 

When he excuses himself to the bathroom in the three broomsticks, you decide best to wait outside the inn for him. Huddling near the entrance underneath the roof that overhangs, the last stop of your outing before the two of you head back up to the castle as the afternoon sun sets. The minutes tick by slowly, making you apprehensive and irked, wondering what’s taking him so long. Peering back through the dusty windows, you find the cause of his delay. 

He’s nested at the far back of the pub close to the bathrooms, but he’s no longer alone. Swarmed by a couple of girls stalling his exertion of returning to you, though he’s chatting away to them happily as if he has all the time in the world. The usual bitter feelings of neglect and redundancy rise, stirring the once settled butterbeer, now threatening to creep back up and paint the windows. 

Turning around with a heavy heart, you lean back on the cool panels, taking a shaky breath to control the hurt you feel. It's not the first time he’s done it, throwing you aside temporarily, replacing you with something more shiny and alluring to him. You’re almost certain he doesn’t do it purposefully, he just gets swept up in having positive attention on him, and well with girls, it's always favourable. 

As time turns, those grains of sands sift further through the gap in the hourglass, questioning with logic why you're not just barging in and yanking him out by the ear. The bell goes signalling the exit of customers, and you turn in hope only to find yourself planted in the middle of a loud, deafening talkative group of Gryffindor boys. Alarmed, you step back, attempting to save yourself from being flattened by the load of them as they mingle past you. 

Giving polite smiles to the passing lads, you wait patiently, till there's only left still holding the door in offering. He’s easily recognizable with his towering height and his signature kind smile, one that has you feeling as if a thousand rays of sunlight were glowing from deep inside your body, leaving you feeling warm and cozy. 

Dean widens his grin, finding yours utterly gorgeous. “Going in right?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you still don't move, a little frozen by his dazzling smile. “Uh huh.”

He tilts his head, studying curiously, his expression shifting into an amused smirk. “You alright y/n?” 

“She’s fine. She’s with me.” Mattheo’s voice grabs your attention as he finally appears at the doorway, coldly shoving past Dean, his eyes narrowing into unpleasant slits meeting the Gryffindor's eye. A silent warning that he’s walking a thin line into deathly territory talking to you when he’s present.

He falls back in his place, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively, and steers you away from the pub without another word to Dean. Looking back, you give a brief goodbye smile to Dean before your undivided attention returns to Mattheo. 

“What did he want?” He grumbles, walking with a quicken pace much faster than your legs can keep up with.

“Nothing. He was just leaving the pub too.” Mattheo’s eyes are distant, flickering back between the cobblestones and the castle emerging in the distance.

“What took you so long?” You push for a truthful answer, watching his reaction carefully. 

He shoots you a glare, though he can’t help the boyish smirk that shines through. Despite knowing he had made you wait longer than needed, he’ll bend the truth to avoid admitting a fault.

He pulls you in closer with his arm, “I just got stopped by some classmates, no big deal. Quit overthinking Ace.” He ruffles your hair with childlike mannerisms and your nose scrunches, feeling babied, the constant reminder that he sees you as nothing more than a sister. 

Contrarily, Mattheo’s mind still lingers on seeing your dazed look radiating from the simple act of kindness Dean had shown you. Defensively, he assured himself that it's probably nothing; you were just being your friendly self.

He swallows, the bitter taste rising, promising himself he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp. You were precious to him. He wouldn’t allow anyone unworthy to take up a moment of your time, and a lousy shithead, Gryffindor, definitely didn't tick the box. 

The next few weeks pass in a blur, the seriousness of the potions assignment weighing down on you and Eli. The two of you had worked together seamlessly, coordinating portions of the workload evenly to one another and sharing ideas and discussions together to get it done efficiently.

In the time since working on the Antidote for Veritaserum, Eli and you had grown closer together, strictly platonic. A routine was beginning, finding yourself commonly buried in the library working alongside one another more often than not with an intellectual mutualism. 

It was nice to find a common interest with someone outside of Mattheo, as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying. His interest in it was minimal. Being naturally smart, he found the absence of it didn’t alter his grades and more so a waste of time. Not to mention he had a multitude of other talents that he believed were superior to the education of most Hogwarts classes. 

Mattheo wasn’t entirely fond of your new friendship with the puff, stuck in a loop of eye rolls and grumbles when you would escape away from him to the library. Even though he had concluded that Eli was an unworthy and pitiable threat, the idea of your attention suddenly being split from him nagged at the back of his head. 

Call him selfish, but with the long history and close bond the two of you shared, he had always felt you were his. His friend, his study partner, his number one supporter at quidditch games, his go to for advice, his favourite person to pester lovingly, to sneak up on or make you laugh so hard tears would stream down your adorable face. He might have not fully comprehended his feelings, continuing to act as though you were nothing more than a friend. But he was still loyal to that possessive idea, and he didn’t want anyone else taking his treasure away. 

He had managed so far to brush off his imaginary jealousy for your attention, not wanting to appear clingy or needy for it. Two traits he despises with deep, pure hatred. Never wishing to be associated with the dread of appearing weak or desperate, haunted by his past punishment. 

Especially for something so pathetic as this. They had no place in his heart. 

His line of vulnerability was already thin enough, and you barely just crossed it being his best friend. But that was when he had the safety net of darkness, all the lights off where he could release a heavy sigh from his chest and into your embrace. In the middle of the night, where it was silent and the only noises were the colliding beats of your hearts and mingled breaths, a world for just the two of you. 

Or the occasional times when he’s too drunk to coherently fulfill his plans of hooking up with someone. He’ll find himself outside your dorm as if the hallway is lit with a thousand glowing signs guiding him. The intensity blares his vision, and he’d stumble with his hand lifting to block them. They shine with hope and all things good as he makes his way into your room. Calling your name into the dark, a voice filled with contentment arrived at the epitome of a home. 

“Matty?” Bedsheets ruffle and a soft glow illuminates the room at the switch of your lamp, which he profoundly protests at. 

“Noooo, turn the light off.” He shields his eyes, still feeling the blur from his invisible imagery, and flops down on your bed. You groan at the pressured weight of him half collapsing on top of you and the vivid stink of his alcohol infused breath, his hands coming to constrict around you in a tight squeeze. “Ace! Turn the light off.”

Grumbling with irritation, you flick the lamp off and sigh heavily under the weight, but when he mumbles a slur of incoherent words to you, the anger melts away. Bringing the familiar soothing hand to his head, your fingers rack through his curls and he sighs peacefully. 

“S‘good to me, Ace.” He pushes himself up further into the bosoms of your chest, his arm dangling heavily over your shoulder and his own fingers tickle the nape of your neck. “Don’t know what I'd do without you.” 

His words cause that familiar churn in your heart, even with the understanding of where his words pull from, you can’t help but ache pining for more. As usual, you say nothing to reflect the desperate truth and continue to be only a good friend for him. Comforting him as he spills drunk, vulnerable babbles one after another till he succumbs to the sleep he so severely needs. 

And when the morning light shines and wakes him from his slumber, he’d give you the smallest of an indebted smile, that broken smile begging to be loved - a boy clinging to the one radiant thing in his life, completely convinced he’s reached the peak fulfilment of love confined to never earn it romantically before he’s back to the overconfident composed boy with a secret so big he might break if it spills. 

Dean, like Mattheo, was stuck on the interaction, daydreaming about the small, fond moment he shared with you. How your smile had warmed your face with a radiance unlike any other he’d seen before and while he knew who you were, he wanted to further that acquaintance. Perhaps friends, though Dean wished for better luck than that. 

When he had heard through the grapevine that Eli, his closest Hufflepuff friend - for the mere bonding over the muggle football club, West Ham - had grown and started a routine studying session with you twice a week. He practically leaps at the chance and the boy to let him tag along, with N.E.W.T.S drawing nearer he found himself cumulative by stress and wanting to buckle down. 

“Eli! El- wait up.” Surprisingly, the measly boy had a speed like a roadrunner, zipping his way along the hallways up the grand staircase, causing Dean’s larger body to mutter a substantial amount of ‘excuse me’ before he catches up grasping the puff's shoulder. “Bloody hell, you’re fast.” 

“Oh hey Dean, where’d you come from?” Eli turns, smiling once he recognizes his friend. 

“Just got out of DADA with the Slytherins, anyway I wanted to ask if I could join your next study session. Seamus is snoring a lot and talkin' in his sleep. It's driving me mental mate. I’m so behind on my workload.” Dean huffs out his worries, hoping it seals the deal. 

Eli's smile just widens, nodding, “Course! The more the merrier, I'm sure y/n won’t mind. It's just the two of us, anyway, so there's plenty of room on the table!” 

Dean grins, pleased, “Cheers, mate.” He presses a bit for further info on you. “So, what’s she like? y/n I mean.” He leans against the banister as the stairwell churns, moving upwards. 

“Nice, very nice. She’s super smart too, wouldn’t be able to cover half the material without her…” Eli watches Dean’s expression, noticing the highly engrossed look, and raises a brow with a small laugh. “Is this some sort of set up?” 

“W-hat-what? No course not. I need help, really.” Dean smiles widely, trying to appear less suspicious, though he’s not lying. Getting to spend time with you is just a bonus. A very nice bonus. 

The library is packed with students, squeezed into every nook and crevice, stressed for the upcoming last few weeks before exams. The table you and Eli accommodated no longer resembled one of dignity—scattered with papers, books, quills laid out among the extra assortments of snacks and water. 

“So still cool if my mate joins us today? Seamus is driving him mental! He told me his accent has thickened stronger and he can barely understand him.” 

Shaking your head in a no, you laugh at the idea of Seamus Flingans Irish accent becoming more incoherent with how you already struggled to make out what the poor boy was saying. The absence of your usual sleeping routine alters your ability to make the connection of who Seamus’s friend was. 

He’s hard to miss when he comes bounding round the towering shelves that lined the interior of the library, with a clear height on himself. His head topples over the other students, beelining towards the two of you. That same contagious smile graces his face, lighting the browns of his eyes to warm ambers and he offers a friendly wave. 

“Blimey! The library is bloodyfull today. I’ve never seen so many students here at once.” His voice is smooth and lulling, filled with an enthusiastic kick that zaps the sleep right out of your body. 

You sit leaning your head in your palm, nodding in agreement at his observation. “Yeah, cram studying, I guess.” 

He grins, opening his books, and takes the moment to glance appreciatively at you. “Nice to see you again, y/n.” 

A warm glow of pink flashes under your skin and you nod, “Yeah, you too, Dean.” 

Eli watches, noticing the small flustering effect the two of you seem to have on one another, giving Dean an eye, who shoots him one back, telling him to keep it cool. Dean rubs the back of his neck, trying not to gaze too long at you. He hadn’t been into another girl since Ginny Weasely had dumped him for Potter, leaving him gutted and shocked. So spending time slowly easing in with you felt nice compared to the drama of endless fighting he’d had endured with his ex. 

The longer the two of you work alongside one over the weeks of sessions, Dean can’t help himself crushing a little deeper on you. The way you talk about your passions with so much enthusiasm, his own face can't help but match your ecstatic smile. He finds you listen well, and he gets to match his own excitement about quidditch and football. The two of you often get distracted chatting about your interests, with Eli having to rein your focus back in. 

His warm brown eyes have a habit of igniting the deepest red upon your cheeks and your hands suddenly can’t stop playing with your hair. It feels odd and completely different to how you feel with Mattheo. You find you can’t take your eyes off of him wanting to be the one to see that pearly smile and hear his deep chuckle.

The feeling is refreshing and his attention feels reciprocated, which only makes you glow brighter. For every time you glance at him, he’s already staring back with a slight twinkle, like he finds amusement in your shyness. 

Though there’s a part of you that aches with betrayal, with disloyalty, like none other than Mattheo has thrown a cold bucket of water at you. The conflicting rising affections for Dean begin to sprout vines along the already fortified stone wall Mattheo has set inside your heart. 

If only you could merge the traits of both boys to make the perfect specimen. You’d take Mattheo’s charm, those moments of compassion he saves for you and the ability to make you laugh even on your darkest days. Added with Dean's patience, kind nature and positive outlook on life and Voilà, you’d never have to deal with these frustrating thoughts again, which have made your head throb. 

You decide its best to keep the feelings at bay, under observation and stick to only friendly interactions with Dean outside of sessions. A kind wave in the halls, or a smile over breakfast at the far away tables. It’s not like you want to unravel a new crush to blossom, you just want Mattheo that’s always been true.

But you know you won’t be able to contain the feeling for long. The desperate yearning for attention, for something real and that’s only yours.

The latest bulletin publication in Hogwarts’s eloquent editorial, engrossed the topic of witnesses spotting the popular band Weird Sisters and their crew arriving down in Hogsmeade, sparking school wide chatter. For many, the band hadn’t been seen since the Yule Ball, and their next gig performing this weekend for eighteen plus only made it even more exclusive. 

Everywhere you walked the whispers about the wicked gig breezed whispering in your ears, between classes, to the common room and down to the great hall. Where you sat pressed up to Mattheo, the news making this evening's dinner even more packed. He shoots you an amused grin, watching how you struggle to eat your dinner without your elbows flying up. 

He lowers the left one, near missing his jaw, and chuckles, “Fuckin hell Ace, trying to finally land a blow to me, huh.” 

Embarrassed, you tuck your arms inwards, instantly giving a light apology, thinking up new tactics for how to cut your steak. His laugh only deepens, and he reaches over grabbing the cutlery, “Let me you damn klutz.” You watch his hands grip the silverware, his veins popping prominently under the flex of his movements. 

It's hard not to daydream whenever he’s sweet and considerate like this, imagining a life with him away from all the trauma. The two of you, a life of your own, him cutting you dinner and you as his loveable wife. But it’s really watching his hands go to work that makes your mind wander a little more down the lane to the bedroom. 

“Want me to feed you too, Ace.” His teasing question interrupts your hopeless fantasy, causing a flush to break rising your neck, and you laugh rolling your eyes at his playful antics. He grins, matching you, glad to know you can always take a joke from him. He puts the cutlery down, his eyes twinkling with lively energy, the spark that makes him feel like himself.  

“Just checking, ya know, cause you looked like you were drooling.” An adorable smirk graces his face, watching for your reaction. 

Another wave of heat adorns your cheeks and you have to thank Merlin that there are candles in the hall concealing your clear flustering. “Shut up, you sod.” 

Reaching over to steal a potato from his plate, you pop it in your mouth and scrunch your nose at him in displeasure. “You little thief. Where are your manners, Ace? And no ‘thank you’ either.” His face feigns disapproval, arching a brow like a disappointed father. His once charming eyes stare down with an intensity that halts your breath. 

As subtle as you can you bite your lip and frantically search your mind that's currently occupied in a foggy haze under your aroused state. A multitude of inappropriate names and answers filter to the forefront of your brain, like a slideshow that practically screams ‘You’re horny for your best friend!'

When the words finally find you, you thank Merlin, again, for the rational part of your brain and utters a sarcastic response. “Sorrrry your highness, thank you for your cutlery knight ship.” 

He reacts with an eye roll of his own, stealing a potato of yours back, his full cheeks bearing his own cheeky grin. Watching you laugh, he questions the habit of having noted the brief second your teeth had sunk into your lips, something you only did when nervous or in thought. A habit he undeniably loves, only wishing it was his lips you were so sensually nipping. 

“You giving me attitude now, little brat?.” He grabs your head into a tight headlock, rustling his knuckle into the crown of your hair, envisioning putting you in your place in an alternative method. 

Your laughs echo around the large hall and you swat at him, shoving a hand up into his face, making him groan in protest. “Watch those grubby fingers! Gonna poke my eye out.” 

“Well, stop messing up my hair!” The constant back and forth of your argumentative banter continues until dessert appears and you make a truce for the tradition of sharing a banana split. 

“So.. you heard about the gig?” You ask, easing into the next conversation, one you’ve been contemplating since this morning. Heading down to the village on a Saturday night is customary to have a date, especially for an event such as this. 

Mattheo takes another spoonful of his ice cream, humming in acknowledgement at the topic. “Yeah, it should be entertaining. Kind of hoping to use it as an excuse to finally get that stuck-up bitch Everly, to at least let me get to second base. No offense.. to women.” He adds. 

You should be ticked off about the comment, but you’re completely transfixed on the way your heart has fallen out of your chest. It's laying right there on the ground, a knife shoved in the centre and then it pops like a balloon and the remaining sand runs out of it. Biting back the tears, you give a small nod as he meets your eye, watching as he goes about like nothing has happened, offering you the last bite. 

Mattheo raises a brow, offering a kind smile, though he’s watching the way you seem as usual indifferent about his forward encounters. The casual standby and unbothered appearance tightens his chest knowing you don’t care what he does with girls. It breaks him never getting a real reaction, and only fuels his conclusions regarding you only seeing him platonically.

It pains him to utter the next few words, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t tag along, of course. You know I'd never ditch my number one girl.” 

Number one girl is right, sitting in your rightful place on top of the podium of his heart. And yet he can never give you the medal just for being here. In his presence, he can never tell you how he truly feels. But it's the next words he hears that cause him critical heart palpitations. 

You shake your head, declining his offer to friend zone you, refusing to be the awkward tag along while he gets his dick wet. Thus you lie. “No, it’s alright. I just wanted to ask in case you didn’t. I actually have one-”

“You have a date?” He cuts you off with a little hostility.  

The sharpness of his interrogation takes you back, shutting your mouth, eyes fixed on how his one's narrow skeptically. Your brows furrow together with offense. Does he not think you could get a date? Though it's true you don’t have one, he doesn’t know that, so you lie again. “Yes.”

“Who?” The one word spits bluntly. 

A loud scoff of disbelief falls from your lips at his audacity to not ask, but demand an answer. Rolling your eyes, you look out around at the other houses, buying yourself time to think of a partner. You spot Dean who meets your gaze and offers a friendly wave. 

Mattheo observes, his eyes darkened and fixed on where you look. No fucking way. He looks between you and back to Dean, feeling an upchuck of jealousy gurgle in his stomach. The clocks churn, working overtime to filter through his memories. The same dazed smile you cast to him in Hogsmeade reflects on your expression as you wave back. 

“Him?! Dean Thomas asked you?” 

How could he not have seen this? All this time he’d been dismissing the notion that he had nothing to worry about, and then it clicks like the last piece of the puzzle. Wherever Eli was, Dean was, too. Every trip to the library he had blown off as just another geek session with your Puffle friend, that slick son of a bitch got you in effect alone. The only place Mattheo wouldn’t dare go. His fists clench, shake with a raging adrenaline and he eyes you hard, waiting for a good reason for this illogical decision. 

Shit. Catching Mattheo’s expression from the corner of your eye, your muscles tense, afraid to face him full on. His tone laced with accusation as if you’ve committed treason, which in his eyes it's far worse than that. 

But seeing how ticked he is, and the lingering thought that maybe, just maybe, he’s jealous drives you to lie again. “Yes, he did.”

When you meet his eye finally, they’re clouded with a dark, fiery intensity, not detecting any hesitation in your answer. He’s up instantly and you grab his arm to tempt him back down. “Mattheo sit down-“ 

“Need to have a word with that fucking lowlife. What was he thinking asking you?!” 

You. The way he spits the word with animosity causes a deep frown to appear. Was he really that disturbed for you to have a date? Knowing it’s most likely from his short circuit brain reacting with brute protectiveness doesn’t exactly ease your thoughts. What made you so unloveable for you to be forbidden to spend an evening with someone outside of Mattheo? While you felt regret for falsely informing him, the aggravation of his skepticism bruises your heart more and pushes you to defend yourself. 

Pulling on his arm harder, you rebuttal with strength, almost sneering the words out of ache. “I can go to a gig with whoever I want. Not sure why you care so much if you have your own date.” 

His jaw clenches with a stubbornness not willing to explain his reasonings, sensing the growing tension brewing between you two. He huffs agitated, “That’s besides the point-” 

“-I don’t need protection. You don’t need to baby me.”

He can see that you’re not allowing room for argumentation, his eyes tinting with dark coldness swallowing his bitterness. He’s not used to this kind of hostility from you, and while he feels a wave of pride, he can’t wrap his head around you getting angry at him over the sake of a Gryffindor. 

"Whatever. I don’t have time for this shit.” He pushes past you, leaving you aghast and hurt. 

“Matt-” His name dies on your tongue, watching him retreat without any remorse. You release a deep sigh, forcing down the part of you that reeks of guilt, ceasing the tidal wave of pity urging to wash ashore. 

The newfound spite irks, refusing him to control your social interactions and you pick yourself up, marching with determination over to the Gryffindor table. “Hey Dean. Are you going to the gig? Because I was wondering if you wanted to, uh—gowithme?” The adrenaline spits out in a hurried ramble, standing behind the sprightly boy.  

Ron snorts, snickering lightly. “What a skitzball,” he mutters to Seamus. 

Dean, who had only just turned at your arrival, catches the half rushed question and grins. “Are you asking me to the gig? Like on a date?” 

You nod. His smile brightens. “Sure sounds fun!”

You blink, surprised. “Really?” His answer is so straightforward. There’s no teasing or joking, a stark difference from how Mattheo interacts with you. 

He laughs nodding, “Yeah really, can’t wait!” 

You grin, biting your lip excitedly, “Okay cool, see you then!” Leaving the hall with a light spring in your step, your mood instantly lifted at having a date for the first time. 

The following weekend, students of age make their way down to the village crowding around the entrance to Hogs Head, the hosts of this evening. The interior, normally consisting of minimal effort, had surprisingly transformed, outdoing itself for the performance with dark black cloth hanging to encapsulate the atmosphere of a muggle venue. The ceiling is enchanted with glistening disco lights twinkling and streams of smoke that surround the main platform the band will perform on. 

Dean grins, offering his arm chivalry out to you, liking the idea of you entering the venue as one. He's chuffed, and a little surprised that you had been the one to initiate, asking him to be your date.

Dean’s fondness for you had continued to bloom, his trips to the library becoming more frequent, happily using every opportunity to get more acquainted. It seemed to be the only time you weren't attached at the hip to Mattheo, and Dean, though not entirely scared of Riddle, didn't want to end up on his shit side. 

“Woah, the pub looks wicked, doesn’t it?” He speaks down to you, his voice attempting to be on the softer side still booms with elation. 

Laughing sweetly, you nod in agreement, admiring the pub as it fills, people already gathering towards the stage. Dean moves inwards, his arm gently pressing to your back to stop the two of you getting separated. 

“Yeah, I’m excited!” Responding with positive optimism for a good night, though you can't help searching around for someone in particular. 

Already aware of his date, there's no room for unwanted assumptions to creep in. It's all laid on the table. He’s easily noticeable, entering among his other Slytherin friends and their obnoxious energy suffocating anyone in a one step radiance. He walks with Everly confidently hanging off his arm, looking like a sparkly prized charm that, you know, means his eyes won't be anywhere but on her. 

The desperation slithers up your throat, constricting your breath. Thankfully, Dean’s not paying attention caught in his own zone. For when Mattheo scans the floor and his eyes lock on yours, there's no force strong enough to lure your attention from him.

He's as attractive as ever, dressed in all black. His curls look decent for once, coiled neatly, which might have made you swoon, but you can't help question if she did it for him. The bitterness drenches your tongue with the disturbing truth that he’ll always pick someone else over you. 

Your heart sinks further, drowning in the waves of pain and ultimately it’s the part of you with any dignity left that turns your focus back to Dean. Mattheo watches how Dean waves over his other mates, his smile widening for a moment at Ginny, and he frowns as you are forced to blend in with his rivals. He rubs his temple, a throbbing headache banging as he fights the battle, evading the pressure rising of hurt and jealousy threatening to breach the surface.

“Fuck off, since when did y/n mingle with the Gryffindorks.” Draco’s disdainful comment snaps Mattheo’s head back as the others identify the reasoning for your absence. 

“What did you do?” Theo asks Mattheo bluntly, the crowd roaring, welcoming the band strolling onto the stage. 

Mattheo scowls with bitter irritation, snapping louder over the noise. “I didn't do shit. She did that all on her own.” 

Theo observes perplexing Mattheo’s response, noting the nonstop chatter you’re spewing to Dean as the two of you move closer to the stage. He leans down to point out whispering, “I doubt it. She hasn’t even waved at you once.” 

“Well, maybe she’s too busy fawning over dickhead Dean to give a shit about the rest of us.” Mattheo grits, defensively grouping everyone in to share the fault of his wrongdoings on why you hadn’t said hi. 

“I need a fucking drink.” He mutters, his high hopes of smashing dissolving no longer interested in using Everly as a distraction. What he really needed was you, a nice tall glass to satisfy his thirsting desire. His eyes linger on you for another moment. You look nice. Who’s he kidding? 

You look gorgeous. It’s such a simple outfit and yet it suits your figure so well. He doesn’t know the last time he saw you so dressed up, definitely never for himself like that. 

His eyes flicker back to his date and he can’t help but compare the two of you. There's an energy about you tonight he rarely sees. You’re holding yourself with tallness, an appearance that makes you even more attractive. You look happy and confident and his eyes can’t help but scan your exposed legs. That skirt is definitely shorter than your uniform. 

He always knew his feelings would resurface, couldn’t stay down forever despite how hard he fought them. However, the intense jealousy and pain was something he thought he could escape. Having kept it at bay for so long, why was it now that his mind weakened, allowing the sweet essence of you to slip through? 

He wanted to run to your side and embrace you, to shove Dean to the ground with one swing of his fist, for even daring to look. He wanted to stand beside you now as the group moved to the stage and scream the lyrics with you in each other's faces. He wanted to have your smile directed at him and be the one to spin you, listening to your infectious laugh meant for only him. 

But of course he’d been afraid and pushed you again and even as he ponders and dreams of the possibilities of what ifs, he can’t deny how happy you look beside Dean. Smiling brightly up at the git, he knows he’s being selfish and greedy. He wants to fight for you, to make things right, to tell you how much you mean to him. 

He leaves you be for the first few songs, eyes fixated on you only, before he spots Dean excuse himself to the bathroom, and in a flash he’s doing the same ditching his date. He walks casually so as to not draw suspicion, keeping a distance between Dean and himself.

The bathrooms down the corridor in the pub are dark and dingy and mostly empty as everyone’s still listening to the band. He spots Dean stalking past him down a few urine stands before he takes a wiz himself. It’s more awkward than the usual boys' bathroom encounter. 

Dean can feel the prickling burn of deathly eyes on him, and peeks sideways at Mattheo. They finish washing their hands and then Mattheo speaks up before Dean can escape his interrogation. “Thomas. Doing well?” 

Dean looks over at Mattheo in surprise. He dries his hands and clears his throat. “Yeah fine. Yourself?”

Mattheo runs a hand through his hair, eyeing him with a sharp look, trying to pinpoint what about him you might like over himself. Sure, he was tall and strong like Mattheo. But he’s a loudmouth Gryffindor. There's nothing worth tolerating about them. “Fine.”

Dean watches, sensing Mattheo is pissed about something, and he can only imagine it’s his presence around you. “You seem like you're digging for something. Why don’t you just say it?” 

He chuckles darkly, a little impressed with his boldness - guess Gryffindors' are brave after all. For the anger Mattheo felt was reaching a peak like a volcano about to explode and Dean was standing in the danger zone.

“Not sure why you’re hanging around her when you’re clearly still hung up on your ex.” Dean frowns, looking at Mattheo in confusion. “I can see the way you look at Weasley still, so I suggest you back the fuck off y/n, before I make you.” 

Dean looks at Mattheo like he’s mental. “I actually like her, you know. I’m not into Ginny anymore.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, shithead.” Mattheo moves forwards looming, he’s a tad shorter than Dean, but it doesn’t diminish the look he’s shooting his way. 

He’s still standing tall and brooding enough to have Dean a little uncomfortable in his shoes. But Dean isn’t one to back down from a little intimidation, and eyes him, “I see what this is about. You're jealous, aren’t you?” 

Mattheo scowls, hating that he’s hit it right on the nail, but only laughs instead. “Good one, Thomas.” 

“You are, though, and you missed your chance to tell her, didn't you?” Dean uncharacteristically taunts him, unaware of the insecurity he’s about to strike. “Not like you deserve her anyway with how you act-.” 

In the split second the word leaves Dean's lips, Mattheo connects his fist with his nose. There’s a loud crack of the bone and Dean yelps, grasping it as blood streams covering his fingers. 

“The fuck are you, to talk to me like that?” He watches Dean’s bravado crumble as he stares into the intense and wired eyes of Mattheo. “You don’t know shit about me or her. Get the fuck out of here before I do something I actually regret.” 

Dean, still clutching his nose, gives him a look that easily reads what he thinks about him before he decides it’s best just to leave, heading back out into the hallway. Mattheo stays pacing a little longer and gazes at himself in the mirror. He’s craving a cigarette now; he should just ditch this shitty gig and call it a night. 

The few people hovering outside the hall’s entrance, dousle themselves with refreshing glasses of water. You’re one of them having gotten hot and thought it would be good to wait somewhere visible to him. All too easily Dean is noticeable pushing out the door with his hand still pressed to his nose. 

“Holy shit! What happened to you?” Rushing over you ask Dean, though you have a tickling suspicion already. 

For once, Dean’s usual aura is low, and he gives you an indifferent look. “Who do you think, y/n. Riddle of course.” 

Hot flashes of anger blur your vision, washing over you with a feverish intensity at Mattheo's audacity and you stare at the bathroom door as if trying to summon him out. Dean gives you another look, muttering an irritated, “I’m gonna go wash up elsewhere. I think you should talk to him.”

Dean walks off back down the hall to another bathroom, and your shoulders drop in defeat at the disappearance of your date. How had your night flipped one eighty? Your sunny optimism now drenched by the pelted rain of trouble that Mattheo Riddle brings, and then he appears.

He’s shaking out his fist, flexing his fingers, a clear sign he’s just used them in combat, and your eyes narrow on him. He meets your gaze, his eyes lighting up at seeing you noticing him properly, but then you’re walking towards him hastily. He has little time to escape before the familiar pulling pain shoots from his ear down and he yelps, cursing. 

He could never defeat the strength of an angry woman's ear pull, as you drag him down and outside the pub, pleading at you. “Ace! Geez, come on, is this really ow- necessary!? Fuck-“ 

It had been forever since you’d pulled the move, one that was extremely effective and often required when the two of you were younger. His ear swells a deep red and continues to throb even once released from your hold.

He winces, straightening up to shoot you an unappreciative glare, but he’s met with an equally disappointed face. A look he never wishes to see again, eyes vacant their usual glimmer, left with only a look of disappointment that fears him worse than his father.

He swallows, but acts nonchalantly. "What’s this all about?” 

Gritting your teeth, eyes narrowed into slits as thin as paper. “You hit him? You hit Dean! What is wrong with you, Mattheo?” 

His sympathy and sorrow vanish in the return of his anger, muttering. “He had it coming.” 

“How? What did he say?” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing his aching ear. “It doesn’t matter. It was uncalled for, and I shut him up.” 

“You always do this, always an excuse that makes you look like the victim. What could he have possibly said that would make you need to act like that?” 

“He doesn’t even like you, y/n, he’s still hung up on his ex - I don’t know why you’re wasting time with him anyway, you’re not that oblivious, are you?” He snaps, his frustrations growing. 

His words sting, like a slap to the face, and you blink, standing back from him. Oblivious? Who was he to call blind when he couldn’t even comprehend how you felt about him? There's no recollection of seeing Dean pining after Ginny, and the tears build at the lengths he will go to destroy your first possibility of romance.  

“Are you seriously making this up now because you're upset? That I had the courage to ask someone to be my date, and he happens to be a Gryffindor?” 

He groans, frustrated, “No fuck, I’m not making this up.” He walks closer to you, trying to get you to understand, but he can see he’s hurt you. “Ace, come on, I’m not trying to ruin-”

“Well, you are!” It’s his turn to be slapped, and he stares a little taken back, absorbing your words. There's a chill in the air, like your words squeezed all the joy out and it shows in his eyes. 

They harden, staring you down, and he gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Fine. I can see I’m not wanted.” He’s bitter and heartbroken as you completely disregard him with no trust. But he holds his tongue further, not wishing to damage the ship. “I’ll stay out of your way to avoid ruining your life further.” 

He doesn’t even mean to say that much, for the idea of staying away breaks him. The concept that his worst fears are coming to life, cracking, pushing their way to the surface, and it frightens him. As he storms off, glad to escape the awful changing reality, he can't stop thinking about how this is all his fault. 

Fuck. Fuck! He walks hastily away, not daring to turn back around and see the despair he’s left you in, heading straight back to the castle with a tornado of mixed emotions. Anger and sadness that push and shove at one another, fighting for dominance in who will break the surface first. 

He collapses on his bed, stuffing his pillow over his face and erupts into a raw yell, fighting back the tears. In the end anger wins, and he kills his self-pity, deciding to down himself in a bottle of fire whiskey till he blacks out with the last remaining thought on his mind. You had been the one to ask Dean. 

Any and all interacts are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading! 💫 Masterlist! Part two should be up next few days- to a week.

ALSO the biggest shoutout to @amongemeraldclouds who patiently dealt with my ass about this for like a month ilyyy pookie 🤍 @leona-hawthorne who for without I’d never have restarted this I swear ilyyyy and @slytherinslut0 thank you for proof reading!! 🩵

©️pizzaapeteer 2025

[misc-obeyme]

https://www.tumblr.com/misc-obeyme/778408330346512384/an-oc-i-dont-have-a-name-for-yet-he-lives-in-an?source=share

Alrighty, the official name is Kaimi, and yes! The solomon situation was very weird!

They don't hate barbatos, but they don't really love him either. Like the other 'you' tried to kill me and killed my best and only friend, but you're pretty chill.

They enjoy all their time with solomon, I mean, while it lasts because at the end of the year they have to leave.

Ooohhh, and they are soooo weird about the food, mainly because any and all food bought around the opposite!demons was hexed, cursed, and / or poisoned, sometimes in that order.

The opposite!Au Kaimi was in didn't have any angels so they don't have any particular feelings towards the 3 angels, or the reaper for that matter.

What's funny is Kaimi canonically has killed all the demons in their AU, doing it over and over again until they save solomon (they are trapped in a time loop) so while the demon brothers keep trying to act all big and bad, barbatos and diavolo have to remind them not to go too far because Kaimi could very well kill them.

Bows for barb

OH NO not a time loop!! Oof and having to kill them all every time what a pain in the ass...

That IS kinda funny for the new set of bros though lol. I love the idea of Barb and Dia having to be like, you guys better cool it, this one will take you out and we won't do anything to stop them.

Hexed, cursed, AND poisoned adslkfjjf damn. I think one would be enough?? But I suppose you can never be too sure???

Yikes I'm glad they escape the time loop and get to be somewhere a bit less hostile!

[mamawasatesttube]

i keep thinking to myself, god we have got to put tim drake in a time loop. but also time loops just feel so perfectly like speedster bullshit, yknow? therefore lemme just smash these thoughts together like particles at cern aaannddd--

let's put tim in a time loop that bart accidentally caused. a tim loop, if you will :) specifically, tim loop where kon dies at the end and bart just kind of subconsciously went nope! and "if anyone can fix it it's tim right?" bc bart has. a normal amount of faith in his friends but also a normal amount of feelings about himself being useless to save kon bc he couldn't in infinite crisis.

and bam suddenly tim is having the worst tuesday of his life like 20 times in a row. yippee! it's bart-powered but he doesn't even know. he did it on accident. bart in the loop doesn't know what's going on. it just resets every time the ending is something bart can't accept (kon dies again). tim tries to sacrifice himself to save kon once but somehow that doesn't break the loop either (bart refuses to accept that). how long can tim go through a time loop before he goes completely bonkers bananas insane? only tim(e) will tell.

and, worse: how many times can tim watch kon die? how many times can he beg kon to value his own life, to get it through his head that being a hero doesn't mean he needs to die for the world, that there must be another way? how many times can he watch kon sacrifice himself to save others and know that if he stops kon, those people might die?

how fucked up would he be if he ever actually found out just how suicidal kon has been his entire life?

extra fun: cassie takes one look at him every time and instantly clocks that he's feeling like shit, but every time she forgets why, because the loop resets. tim is being perceived but it never lasts. this will drive him crazy so fast. he's gonna start acting out and snapping at her for being concerned because what's the POINT of talking about his feelings if everything resets ANYWAY. this will definitely not come back to bite him in the end or anything, right?

(kon-el dead wife giggling in the sunshine and playing under the sheets montage plays over and over for both tim and bart. this probably means nothing.)

[ghost-proofbaby]

foolishness and all

summary: your boyfriend puts your love to the test when his heart is set on a certain unsightly purchase.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: jar jar binks. not edited, i was laughing too hard.

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: this is the product of a very insane conversation that occurred in the middle of the night last night with @emmaisgonnacry, @lokis-army-77, and @emma-munson. forever sad we can't get the jar jar watch </3 (but at least emma got the darth maul one!) ((thank you for making me laugh until i cried last night, friends.))

“If you buy that thing, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.” 

“I’m getting the watch.” 

“And I’m getting a new boyfriend.”

You glare at your boyfriend for several beats of tense silence, narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do anything to change his mind. His heart is already set – there’s no stopping what’s about to happen. 

“Edward Munson,” you stress, hand shooting out to hold his wrist, but he’s already whipping it out of your reach, “That thing is hideous. We’re shopping for a nice watch for Steve’s wedding, not that.” 

“This thing has a name, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles toothily, tilting his head tauntingly at you, “And I think it fits the theme perfectly.” 

“In what fucking world?”

You're whispering harshly now, trying to keep from causing a commotion in the middle of the store and garnering any more unwanted attention. The workers had given you strange enough looks when Eddie had first laid eyes on his prize, his little yelp of excitement seemingly startling them. 

The less people who witnessed the atrocity on Eddie’s wrist currently, the better. 

Eddie goes against that wish entirely, holding his wrist high in the air for the entire mall to see at this point, “In my world. He did say it was meant to be open for interpretation-”

“Not like this.”

“And my interpretation is buying this absolutely priceless Jar-Jar Binks watch.” 

The thing looks down at you, almost as if it’s laughing at you just as Eddie was right now. 

Part of you wonders if it’s all a bit – something Eddie noticed set you off, and he’s now making it into an entire catastrophic situation solely for his own enjoyment at your irritation. But part of you also knows that even if it is a bit, Eddie Munson will commit wholeheartedly to it. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. He’ll be leaving this store as the owner of that watch, and the thought mortifies you. 

“Please,” you finally resort to begging, feeling a bit childish as you give a pitiful hop to reach his wrist. It’s useless. He only stretches higher, shirt riding up to expose that strip of pale skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes catch on it momentarily, but you force yourself to not get distracted, “Eddie, baby-”

“Nuh uh,” he’s quick to shake his head, taking a full step back from you, “Nope. That baby shit isn’t working on me this time. I’m buying it. End of discussion.” 

Fine. The sweet talk route didn’t work. That’s fine. 

You had more than one weapon in the arsenal. 

Before he can even think to step any further away, you reach out and hook your finger through one of his belt loops, giving a tug that further exposes the band of his boxers all while forcing him closer to you. 

You’re back on your tip-toes, no longer reaching for the watch, but to let your lips barely graze over his as your whispers, “What if I ask you not to very, very nicely?” 

That has him faltering. Complete hesitation as he takes a deep breath and visible gulp, arm beginning to drop ever so slightly. 

“I would… I’d…” he trails off, clearly losing focus as your lips stay hovering just out of touch, “I’d probably… I-”

“Probably not buy it – right, handsome?” 

And just as quickly as he’d fallen victim to the game you’d started playing, he’s pulled from it. 

He leans back as far as he can with your finger still clinging to his pants, scrunching up his nose, “I see what you’re doing. Not fucking fair. It’s only thirteen dollars, anyway. I bet if Steve was here right now, he’d tell me to get it.” 

“He wouldn’t!” you whisper-yell, giving up and pulling back as well, “It’s his wedding, Eddie. He told us to get something nice to fit in with the black tie dress code,” you can see him ready the argument of interpretation once more, and nip it in the bud, “No amount of interpretation can ever qualify the head of Jar-Jar Binks turned into a watch as something that fits into black tie attire.”

He’s not convinced. Not of the point you’re trying to make – no, you know he agrees with you and is just being a little shit at this point – but of not buying the watch. 

“What if I just bought it?” he barters, “Maybe I don’t wear it to the weddin-”

“There’s no maybes about it. You can’t wear it to the wedding. You’re one of the groomsmen.”

He lifts his other hand just as the one adorning the eyesore finally drops to be eye level once more, “Fine! Fine. I won’t wear it to the wedding, but I’m still getting it.” 

It’s a compromise. Or as close to a compromise as you and Eddie were going to get to right now. 

With his wrist finally lowered, you can finally get a proper look at the thing. It’s Jar-Jar’s head with a band to mimic his skin, no clock in sight until it’s flipped open. The inside might be even worse though. Vivid font curling to spell out Jar-Jar, a light orange background with darker swirls, and the world’s smallest sliver of a screen to display the digital time. 

It absolutely blows your mind that anyone thought it was a good marketing idea. But then again, people like your boyfriend exist. He was the intended audience, not you. 

“It’s not even that cool,” you weakly still try to fight the losing battle, gingerly grabbing for the wrist this time with your free hand. Your finger hasn’t left Eddie’s belt loop, now resting comfortably in it, just growing fond of the closeness rather than weaponizing it against him. 

And maybe as a way of keeping him from running up to the counter to complete the purchase. Maybe. 

“It’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he proudly proclaims, right there in the middle of the Radio Shack, never having looked more satisfied with himself, “It can just be a conversational piece. I promise, I won’t break out the secretly evil little shit-”

“What?”

“Unless the occasion actually calls for it.” 

“I’m sorry, can we go back to where you just called Jar-Jar secretly evil?” you ask, more perplexed than concerned at this point.

He was getting it. You were hating it. You had bigger wars to win with the man before you at a later date, surely. 

His grin makes you regret asking, “Oh, you haven’t heard the theory about Jar-Jar being a Sith lord, have you?” 

Your finger slips from his jeans, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head. 

“Go buy that thing. I’m waiting in the car.” 

“Wait, babe, no!” 

“Nope. I’m not listening to this.” 

You turn from Eddie to walk away, making sure he can’t see the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you’re so desperately fighting, but it’s no use when he grabs onto your elbow to spin you back around. 

“Eddie, I’m not-”

You’re interrupted with his lips on yours, an unexpectedly genuine kiss ensuing. The kind that reminds you why you’d ever deal with someone who wants a Jar-Jar Binks watch, the kind that reminds you why the occasional embarrassment Eddie purposefully puts you through in public is all worth it. 

All the butterflies, all the sweetness, all the tenderness. The way his thumb traces over your skin as his hand stays wrapped around your elbow, the way his other hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You can still taste whatever sour candy he’d bought moments before walking into the store all over his tongue and lips, hiding his last cigarette from hours ago. 

It’s a good enough kiss to forget the entire interaction that had just occurred. 

When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless, all fluttering eyes glazed over as you look up at him, “What was that for?” 

His smile could melt your entire existence. Turn you right into a puddle of all the love you struggle to contain, just for him. 

“Just because,” he shrugs, but then he continues on, “And for putting up with me. Thank you for that.” 

“I don’t put up with you,” you say immediately, and mean it.

Even when he’s being insufferable. Even when he’s still wearing the goddamn Jar-Jar Binks watch. You don’t put up with him – you love him. Foolishness and all. 

Your finger returns to his belt loop, and this time, you tug him in for another kiss. Something short and sweet, something just because. 

“You know,” he mumbles against your lips, arm wrapping around you so you can’t leave him just yet, “They have a Darth Maul one, too…” 

Your hand comes up between the two of you, only a slight struggle, just for you to smack him in the center of his chest, “You can only have one, Munson.”

“We could match!”

“I am not wearing that thing.” 

He throws his head back and cackles, a certain glee only born of being with the one you feel safest with flooding his features. All those wrinkles in the corners of his crinkled eyes, the stretch of his lips that bring on the appearance of dimples you could bury yourself in if given the chance. A boy made up of stardust and felicity. Your boy made up of every good thing that could have ever existed in this lifetime. 

You’d rather bicker over the useless things with him a hundred times over than ever live a life without him. 

“It’s fine,” he finally sighs dramatically, “I’ll just wear the Jar-Jar Binks watch to our wedding one day.”

Our wedding one day. 

Your heart just about explodes, and the only thing you can do to not choke up is smack him even harder. 

Our wedding. 

It has a nice ring to it. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you tell him instead.

There’ll be plenty of other moments to talk about that. Now, when he still wears the ugliest watch you’ve ever laid eyes on, is not the time. 

“Gotta catch me first,” he teases as he slowly backs away, a twinkle in his eyes that makes you question if he knows how you’d secretly felt about that joke. That makes you question if he and Steve Harrington had really only been shopping for Steve’s rings for the last year. 

He doesn’t even run to the counter, knowing that you won’t be chasing him. You’re content to stay back and wait. You’ll always wait on him, really.

Even if it meant waiting for the day he wore that goddamn watch on your wedding day, because at the end of it all, you’d probably let him. You’d even wear the Darth Maul watch to match if he insisted. 

You’d let him wear whatever he wants, and you’d wear whatever he insists upon, because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter – it’d be enough to simply marry the dork that just tripped on his way up on the counter while giggling over a watch on his wrist, and know that he’s yours, forever.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo @findmeincorneliastreet

join my taglist!

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-six of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon laughs into his mouth and kisses him back easy and eager, and the moment Tim drops his hands off his face he’s looping his arms around his neck–which Tim is very normal about, for the record–and leaning down into him. Tim puts his hands on his hips in return and feels several extremely complicated ways about someone who’s capable of lifting literal construction equipment trusting him with their weight, most of which he’s pretty sure are going to haunt him for the rest of his life, or at least his next four to six months of, uh–personal time. 

. . . he can never, ever be anywhere near any telepath again. Ever. Just ever. 

Or at least for the next four to six months, anyway.

The park really is deserted now, and lit by a couple of streetlights and a bit of bleedover from the street, but not much else. The rest of the streetlights are definitely out, and it looks like there weren’t that many to begin with. The neighborhood isn’t even that bad, really, but it’s Gotham, so Tim’s not surprised. He’s assuming the other skaters were regulars who knew how bad the lighting gets here this late, given most of them cleared out around the same time and how it’s only gotten darker since they did. 

Well, he doesn’t mind the dark, personally, and definitely doesn’t mind the privacy. 

“Sorry,” he says as he leans back from the kiss for a moment, mostly to make sure he doesn’t get carried away with anything. “Didn’t mean to cut you off.” 

“Yeah, you’ll have to make it up to me by doing it some more,” Kon teases, squeezing his arms around his neck for a moment before giving him a peck on the cheek. Tim gives himself three seconds to be a useless mess of goo, then clears his throat and presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth in return. Kon grins underneath it, and Tim needs another three seconds to burn alive, then clears his throat again. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and Kon giggles again. Tim really has no idea how he feels about the giggling thing. It’s so cute he wants to throw himself in the harbor, but also he’s weirdly, like–just weirdly aware that it’s just not a thing he’s ever heard Kon do as Robin. Which, yeah, obviously there are several things going on right now that would not be going on with Robin, but still keeps throwing him off. 

Kon’s just . . . like, he’s very clearly the same annoying bastard who’s been driving Robin literally insane every single time Young Justice meets up, but also he’s doing all these things that he’d never normally do and Tim feels like he’s just constantly learning weird little unexpected new tidbits about him, most of them directly targeted to destroy his life. 

And then–one or two less “little” things that are directly targeted to destroy his life in a very different way, but that’s just not something Tim wants to be thinking about while Kon’s grinning and giggling at him and just–like this, he guesses. 

He’ll update his fifteen-year plan after patrol tomorrow, he promises himself. At least take some preliminary notes, anyway. 

“Can you teach me?” Kon asks, and Tim–blinks, trying to figure out what–

“To skate?” he asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah!” Kon says excitedly, and Tim almost reminds him he can literally fly, but can’t really bring himself to in the face of that inexplicable excitement. 

“Um, sure, yeah,” he says. “I can teach you a couple things, maybe.” 

Kon beams at him. Tim, somehow, is still completely unprepared. He thinks Kon just makes it very hard for him to be prepared, somehow.

So that's a weird experience, all things considered.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

REPEATING OVER AND OVER, AND OVER, UNTIL YOU MAKE IT TILL THE END!

YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN!

synopsis// both of you stuck in a time loop until you can accept each other. you can not make it out alone no matter how hard you try.

pairing// katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

word count// 9.6k

contents// no quirks, angst, fluff ?, they r idiots, slow burn-ish? at least at first, profanity. like a lot. i stg they cuss every other sentence, it’s like i was a middle school boy who just discovered cuss words writing this, ooc bakugo probably, ages aren’t specified but they r adults, pure cringe but its mha and coming from me so did u expect anything different..?

notes// my last mha draft... im finally free.... anyway i wrote this ages ago but i rlly love this and it may or may not have been inspired by a fnaf song..... (it totally was)

You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quickly to find everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up.

“A-fucking-gain?!”

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your phone, hoping for something different but getting nothing. There are no notifications, no services, and no matter how long you stare at the time, it never changes. You would know considering you’ve done this routine a hundred times. You throw your phone back onto the nightstand and slip your shoes on, the repetitiveness of it all making your head spin. You’ve got to be going insane; what other logical explanation could there be for reliving the same day over and over again?

"I don't know what I did to piss the universe off, but now it's pissing me off," you mumble as you walk out of your empty house—you'd know because you've checked every nook and cranny for the past hundred times. The minute you step outside, you shout at the air, the sky, the universe, the gods, whatever put you here, “Is this what you wanted? pay back? You fucking got it!” 

You stand there half hoping that something would happen, whether someone appeared or a voice would say something to you, but nothing; it’s just complete silence apart from the wind whooshing by. though that’s not to say people weren’t here. If you went far enough into the city, there were crowds of people walking around with no destinations; they seemed like NPCs. The only difference is that you can interact with NPCs, whereas the shells of humans you see in town don't talk, at least not to you. They don't even acknowledge you. It’s almost as if you’re a ghost, which is ironic considering how, when you were alive—no, that's not the right word, sentient maybe? Whatever the point is, when you were a productive member of society, you longed for something exactly like this. To slip by people like the wind, like a ghost, yet now that you have it, you wish for anything but this.

"God, if this is what the afterlife is like, I don't plan on dying anytime soon,” you mutter to yourself as you walk deeper into the city. “Maybe this is the afterlife? or maybe this is hell.”

You stare at your feet as you walk until you hit the point where there are empty husks of humans walking past, and at this point you lift your head, starting to wave at them and standing directly in front of them in a futile attempt to get their attention. Of course it serves to be useless when they walk right past you... just like they have the last hundred times you’ve tried. After a few more futile attempts, you begin walking past them toward a forest. This has been your routine for the entire time you've been trapped here, wherever here may be.

You check your home, walk outside, curse a higher being and ask what you've done to deserve this, contemplate life—or lack thereof?, walk into the city, try to catch someone's attention, and when that doesn't work, you walk off into the forest, spending the whole day there— or you would if time worked properly here—and eventually finding yourself at some random, poorly placed door deep into the forest. You stand right in front of the door; it mocks you, and you imagine yourself tearing it to shreds if it weren't for the fact that the minute you touch it, you're back at square one. You opt to sit in front of the door, just merely studying it; it’s not like there's really much else for you to do.

You don’t know how long you just sit there going back and forth between staring at the door and tearing out the grass from under your hands; had time worked properly here, you’re sure that the moon would have been out by now. You finally admit defeat—for the hundredth time. You stand up and wipe your hands clean of the dirt now laid upon them before you look around the door once more, hoping for something new to appear behind it or beside it, but nothing—the only thing behind the door is more empty forest. So with a sigh, you begrudgingly touch the door handle, and you immediately find yourself waking up with a gasp, sitting up quickly, with everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up again.

This time, though, you don't get up immediately; you lay back down in your bed with a sigh, pulling your blanket up to your chin. You’ve always been alone. This wasn't new to you, but at least before it was your choice. It wasn’t like people didn’t want to be your friend; you just didn’t want to be theirs. In some fucked-up way, you saw your hyper-independence as superior to how other people seemed to need and want friends. but now? Now you want nothing more than to be annoyed by your coworker; you want nothing more than to walk outside and run into someone who will acknowledge you; even if it isn't a positive interaction, it's still an interaction. and after being stuck here for ages, you would kill for an interaction. You throw your blanket off of you as you begin your routine, finally having enough of your pity party.

Check phone? Check.

Put your shoes on? Check.

Search every inch of your house? Check. 

Step outside and curse the universe? Check. 

Find yourself surronded by people where you cant tell if you’re the ghost here or if they are? Check! Wait—Is that a new person?

You've been here long enough to have memorized or at least vaguely remembered every single person in the crowd, but this new face in the distance isn't one you've seen before; it's unique, you'd remember it, so who is this? Is this a sign your time here is coming to an end? In a frenzy, you push your way through the crowd, ignoring all your thoughts. You stop a few feet in front of him; he’s still a bit away as you study him. His brow furrowed in a scowl, and he's muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out, but you can tell he's frustrated by his facial expression and the way his hands are curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles paper white at this point.

He finally reaches you but ignores you as he walks past you, and you sigh, wondering why you thought he'd be the one to acknowledge you.

you frown, mumbling aloud to yourself in disappointment, “Do I really need any more NPCs here?”

suddenly though, he stops dead in his tracks like he heard you and he turns around to face you. Holy shit, he heard you?

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

You stare at him blankly before looking to the sides of you and even behind you. “Uh, are you talking to me?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid as he takes a few steps toward you, and subconsciously, you take a few back. “Of course I'm talking to you; who the fuck else would I be talking to?”

You put your hands out in front of you in a stop motion briefly, your face scrunching up in disdain. "Chill the fuck out, asshole, it was just a question."

“Chill the fuck out?” He repeats in disbelief and takes another step forward, while you stand still, tensing up to appear tougher. “I'm stuck in some weird ass place where, up to this point, no one except for your dumbass has even acknowledged me and you’re telling me to chill the fuck out?”

You roll your eyes at his outburst and ask curiously, “You just got here, didn’t you?”

“What the hell do you think? Where even are we?”

"A time loop of some sort,” you say nonchalantly as you shrug, though everything you’re feeling right now is anything but nonchalance.

He scoffs. “Time loop? You expect me to believe that stupid shit?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Believe what you want, either way, you’re still stuck here, idiot.”

“Oh, Im the idiot for getting stuck here? What about you?”

“Me?” you scoff.

“You seem like you’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re still not out. So who’s the real idiot?”

You cross your arms and look away, grumbling, “Maybe I like it here.”

He looks you up and down before rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

Your gaze returns to him with a glare. “Fuck you, I was going to help you.”

“I don't need your fucking help,” he sneers. "You obviously have no idea what the fuck you're doing in the first place."

You walk away, flipping him off, and he does the same, both of you going your separate ways. Though once you hit the edge of the forest, you turn to look back and see if he’s anywhere near, but it’s like he never existed at all. back to the routine.

Enter the forest and walk for an unreasonable amount of time? Check. 

Reach the out of place, uncanny door deep in the forest? Check. 

Stare at it and imagine ripping it to shreds until it's nothing but dust? Check.

Finally sit down and accept your fate for a bit? Check. 

You sigh as you poke at the dirt, the patches of grass you pulled out last time returning to normal as if you had never ripped them out in the first place. Remember what you said earlier about wishing for human interaction? You changed your mind after meeting that random guy, who quickly reminded you why you disliked it in the first place. Although you’ve made up your mind about hating him, you can't help but wonder what he’s doing here in the first place. Obviously, you have no idea why you’re here either, but why did he just pop up after doing this a hundred times or more already? Why is he the only one who can suddenly acknowledge your existence? Maybe there was a glitch in your eternal hell; maybe this was an accident, and he’d be gone by the time you did this all over again. Back to the routine.

Stand up and clean your hands of dirt? Check. 

Touch the door handle and wake back up in your bed with a gasp? Check!

You groan and grip your head slightly; the action of being in one place only to suddenly be in another never fails to give you a slight headache. Today, you go through your routine quickly in order to get into the city faster. You want to know if he's still here so badly that you almost seem desperate. much to your dismay, and his—he’s still here and groans at the sight of you.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demands angrily.

You narrow your eyes at him. You regret coming here. “excuse me?”

“One minute I'm walking, and the next I'm back here."

“It’s called a time loop for a reason, idiot.”

“I don't fucking care what it’s called, just stop doing it," he snaps.

“Oh yeah, like I fucking control that! Let me just stop this whole time loop while we’re at it, huh?”

He says nothing; he merely flips you off and walks away, and you do the same.

Just like every other time you find yourself back at the door in the forest, this time you don’t wait to touch it; you immediately go for the handle and restart the time loop in spite of him snapping at you. He comes into your time loop and has the audacity to complain? No one told him to invade your eternal hell. The first handful of days (if you could even call them that) go the exact same way. Wake up, check phone, slip on shoes, check house, curse the universe some more, go into the crowd, argue with the blond-haired boy who seemed to piss you off beyond words, go your separate ways, go into the forest, find the door, think about tearing down said door, sit on the floor for a bit, and then finally go to touch the door only to do it all over again.

The next handful of days were similar, except you and the invader of your eternal hell eventually stopped arguing; you two still acknowledged each other, but only with a scowl and a flip of your middle fingers, walking straight past each other to do your own thing. You can't say you were upset with the arrangement because at least you didn't have to listen to his whining any longer. You just hated how something was added to the time loop yet it seems like nothing has changed at all. you're still stuck, and the door still won't budge. What exactly are you even supposed to be doing? How do you escape? Can you even escape?

You wake up with a gasp for what now seems like the thousandth time, and you're starting to feel the effects of being here for so damn long. You’re exhausted, your bones ache, and you feel like you could drop dead at any moment. Then again, who’s to say you aren’t already dead? You lazily go through your routine; everything is as it should be until you get into the city. The crowds are still there, but someone is missing. The only person who has acknowledged you is missing. Part of you is happy that he’s gone; it’s not like you two have had a productive conversation in the time he's been there; if anything, he was hindering your escape. but the other part?

The other part is a tad bit disappointed, for two reasons. that one, he managed to get out before you, and two, you’re all alone again. As you begin walking toward the forest, you groan. Who cares? It’s not like you needed him or wanted him here anyway; you could get out on your own. Sometime lost in thought, you finally made it to the entrance of the forest, stopping and resting against a tree. You wonder if the longer you stay, the worse you start to deteriorate, like whatever this place is doesn’t want you here in the first place. You frown, it’s not like you want to be here anymore than this place wants you here; you didn’t ask to get stuck in some stupid ass time loop.

“I’ve had enough of your games! let me out!” You scream into the woods, half expecting someone to respond, and someone does.

“Do you have to be so loud?” A deep voice comes from beside you, tone full of annoyance.

You jump slightly as you turn your head to the side to see the owner of the voice, and you’re almost disappointed to see it’s the blond boy with a permanent scowl and jaw clenched tight.

“What the fuck, you’re still here?” You ask breathlessly, still trying to calm your racing heart from his slight jumpscare.

He rolls his eyes and leans against a nearby tree to mimic you. “Where the fuck else would I have gone?”

"I thought you got out or something..."

"Clearly not," he says, tsking. “What is this?”

“A forest. What does it look like, idiot?”

“No shit, I mean, why are we here?”

You stare at him as blankly as your voice comes out, "We? How the hell did you even get here?”

“Followed you,” he says as he crosses his arms. 

“You... followed me?” you repeat curiously.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

"Why?" you ask softly, catching him off guard. You almost miss how his eyes widen at the sudden shift toward him.

He sighs and looks away, preferring to take in his surroundings, which mainly consist of the seemingly endless forest. "I've looked everywhere else and there's nothing, so I'm assuming you've found something if you keep coming here."

You hum, so he’s not just an angry idiot after all; he’s an observant idiot too.

“So?” he asks with a small bob of his head. 

"So what?"

He scowls, which takes you by surprise because you thought he was already scowling... must just be his face then. “So, did you find something?”

“Oh,” you say. "Yeah, I did, kinda.”

He seems to perk up, impatiently asking, “What is it?”

You go silent briefly, unsure of how to explain a random, uncanny door deep into the forest. "uh- it's difficult to explain," you admit sheepishly.

“Just spit it out already, idiot.”

“No, because you probably won’t even believe me!” you snap in frustration.

He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the tree. “Then show me.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks into the forest. “What?” 

“Show me dumbass!” He barks back at you, not pausing to slow down.

You push yourself off the tree in a hurry, yelling as you run after him, “Can you fucking wait! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

He stops, but not without groaning dramatically, which makes you roll your eyes. You caught up to him quickly because he wasn't far away, but that didn't stop you from bending over and placing your hands on your knees as you breathed heavily in and out.

He looks down at you in slight disgust. “You didn’t even run that far, why are you acting like you're dying?”

“Because,” you breathe out heavily. "It takes a toll on you when you've been stuck here as long as I have!"

“Whatever, just hurry up.”

After a moment, you stand back up fully and jerk your head toward the forest, silently telling the boy, “Let's go.”

The walk is quiet; awkwardness hangs heavy in the air as you sluggishly lead the way. It makes you wish he had escaped, because then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.

“How long have you been here?” He asks, breaking the silence, which takes you by surprise, but you’re sure anything he does that isn’t just him scowling or yelling could take you by surprise at this point.

You clear your throat. “I dunno…. long.” 

“You don’t know?”

"I stopped counting after the hundredth time the loop reset," you shrug.

“Jesus christ, you’ve been here that long?”

“Unfortunately,” you sigh. 

Another moment of silence lingers between the two of you as you walk through the forest, but at least the awkwardness has subsided. Though how slowly you're walking is starting to irritate him. 

“Can you walk any faster?” he asks harshly. 

“I’m tired.” 

“Not my problem.”

“You know what?” you say, stopping dead in your tracks. “I think I’m actually gonna take a break.”

“What?” he asks as he watches you sit down on the floor, leaning back against a tree.

you smile up at him mockingly. “Yep! I’m super tired; I need a break.”

He scoffs. “Fuck you, get up.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I don’t think I will. If you wanna get there so bad, find it yourself.”

He glares at you, his lip twitching with the threat of turning into a sneer. “Fine, I will,” he says through clenched teeth.

You’re still smiling at him as you wave goodbye and watch him walk deeper into the forest. He won’t find it. You know that because the door is still a ways away—you've done this walk over a hundred times—he has no chance of finding it without you, so you'll just sit here and relax until he comes running back to you. Lord knows you need it.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Sometime during your relaxing, you ended up falling asleep. Which you didn’t even know was possible here, but nonetheless, it was well appreciated. You would have continued sleeping if it hadn't been for something softly kicking your legs. You frown and try to swat whatever is kicking you away without opening your eyes, wanting to sleep more, but the kicking doesn't stop. You finally, and begrudgingly, open your eyes to find the boy (who you knew would come back) is the one kicking you.

"Oh, you're back already," you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

He stared at you curiously. “Already?” 

You nod as you stand up. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know shit.” 

"Then why are you back?"

He tsks and looks away. “Whatever.” 

“That’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly. 

He says nothing; instead, he waits for you to start walking ahead so he can follow you. Your walking is much faster now, and although you're still exhausted, it’s much more tolerable now. It's as if the fog around your head has lifted, and you can function normally now. If time worked properly here, it would have been about an hour or two after you guys resumed walking when he finally decided to break the long silence.

“Jesus christ, do you even know where you’re going?” he asks in frustration.

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.”

“Debatable,” he mumbles under his breath.

You decide to ignore that and sigh. “We’re almost there chill out.” There's another lull of silence before you ask, "What's your name?"

He turns to look at you briefly with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze back in front of him. “What? Why the fuck would I tell you that?"

"We're stuck in a time loop together, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, but if you just want me to keep referring to you as an idiot, I'd be more than happy-"

"It's Bakugo," he cuts you off, clearly annoyed.

“I'm y/n,” you say with a grin—wait, you’re actually smiling at getting to know someone? That's odd; you would never... But you guess you could allow it just this once, considering the circumstances.

“Didn’t ask.”

You ignore him. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Fucking finally, what even is it?”

You’re close enough that you can see it in the distance. you point at it as you speak, “a-“

“A door?” he erupts, cutting you off and beginning to run off toward it.

You quickly run after him. “Bakugo wait, don't t-“

You suddenly awake with a gasp.

“Don't touch it,” you say to yourself with a groan. "Fucking idiot," you mutter as you roll out of bed, ignoring your routine and simply slipping on your shoes and running off into the city to find him again.

Once you arrive, like yesterday, you can’t find him, and you frown as you start walking toward the forest, because if it’s anything like yesterday, he’d end up there. At least you're hoping he’s there, because if he actually managed to get out before you by doing the same thing you’ve done for a hundred plus times, you would be furious. You arrive at the forest to find him already there, leaning against a tree, and you sigh out in relief as he stands up straight once he sees you.

"What the fuck happened?" he asks when you reach him.

You exhale heavily, slightly frustrated, a dull pain in your head adding to your frustration. "Well, if you had let me explain, I would have told you that touching the door resets the time loop."

"Oh,” he says blankly. “Sorry.” 

“You’re apologizing?..” You ask in slight disbelief, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would, but then again, you don’t even know him. Who are you to judge him? Wow, you’ve been here so long that you’ve actually gotten to the point of not judging people; maybe you are going insane.

“Yeah.” 

“You don’t seem like someone who would.” 

He shrugs. “I wasn't, but, uh, I’ve been trying to work on it or something.”

“I’m not either,” you confess. “But, uh, for the record, I guess i’m sorry too… for you know, yelling at you?” 

A range of emotions seem to slather themselves onto Bakugo’s face. first anger, then confusion, and then disgust before his usual scowl returns. “Whatever. What now?” 

“Now we go back to the door.”

“And do what?”

“Stare at it? I don't know,” you sigh. 

“I’m sorry?” he says in confusion as his eyes immediately narrow in on you. “Is that all you’ve been doing? Staring at the fucking door?”

You throw your arms up in the air dramatically as you defend yourself, asking, “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? If I touch it, the time loop restarts!”

His eye twitches. “So we’re just gonna stare at it. Until what? We fucking die here?”

“Who’s to say we aren’t even already dead?” you mumble under your breath in annoyance. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

Bakugo stays silent. 

“Right, that’s what I thought.”

He tsks and starts walking into the forest. “Whatever, let's just go.”

You find yourself biting back a smile at what you consider a win, even if this wasn’t a challenge; you just have a terrible habit of seeing everything as a challenge... but nonetheless you find yourself walking with him side by side quietly. The walk was, of course, long, but not as long as last time considering you didn’t stop to sleep this time, so the two of you quickly found yourselves at the door. Both of you just stand there staring at it.

“Maybe it’ll actually do something this time,” Bakugo says, tilting his head at the door as if trying to look at it from a different angle.

You drop yourself to the ground, sitting down with a soft groan. “Try whatever you want in a little bit; doesn’t the time loop being reset hurt your head?”

Bakugo looks down at you and shrugs. “Haven’t noticed.” 

You laugh, though it comes out more like a huff of air. “You will eventually.”

Bakugo stares at you curiously, what you said having piqued his interest, as he plops himself down on the ground next to you. “How long have you been here?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already asked me that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m asking again.” 

“I don’t know. My answer's still the same.” 

He nods slowly. “What was it like?” he asks. "You know, in the beginning, all alone?"

“You actually care?” you ask, wide-eyed and in slight disbelief.

He tsks and returns his attention to the door in front of him. “I don't,” he says harshly. “I’m just trying to make conversation; what the fuck else are we supposed to do?”

"Fair enough," you say, nodding slightly. "At first, I kinda liked it here."

“How?” 

“I liked being alone.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” he spits out. 

You frown. “You don’t look like the type to enjoy other people’s company either.”

“I don’t.” 

“Then what the fuck?”

"I don't like people, but I also don't like being alone," he says softly.

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Whatever,” he says. “So what? Do you not like being alone anymore?”

you shrug. “If being alone meant I didn’t have to deal with your dumbass anymore, then yes, I still like being alone.”

“Fuck you; you just complained about being alone,” he grumbled.

“I did not complain,” you explain. “I’m just saying I like being alone when it’s on my own terms.”

He hums. 

“And you?” you ask. 

"And me what?" he asks, his eyes narrowing at the door.

"What was it like when you first got here?"

“Oh,” he says before he thinks for a moment. “I don’t know; annoying more than anything. I have shit to do in the real world; this doesn’t help.”

You pull your knees in toward your chest. “Where do you even think we are?”

"Fuck if I know," he says, shrugging. "I just want to get the fuck out; if I was stuck here as long as you, I'd probably go insane."

You stare at him blankly. “You’re already insane, and I'm already insane.”

Bakugo side eyes you. 

“What other logical explanation is there for us being here? We’re obviously crazy.”

He huffs and you almost find yourself mistaking it for a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so.”

You feel your heart race a little, and although you two still bicker a bit, you can’t deny how much you're starting to appreciate his company. It's an odd feeling, really, appreciating company for a change instead of immediately trying to get rid of it. As you push yourself up onto your feet, you sigh. “Round two?” 

He nods as he copies your actions by standing up. “Guess so.” 

You take a deep breath before touching the door, only to gasp as you awaken, but this time there's another gasp. You look beside you and discover Bakugo in your bed, which causes you to fall out of it from shock.

"Jesus, why are you in my bed?!"

“Why are you asking like I fucking know?!”

You immediately rose to your feet, rubbing your head because, if the headache from the reset wasn’t enough, you also hit it when you fell out of bed. “What the fuck is going on…”

Bakugo quickly gets out of your bed and tsks. “Why’d it change?”

“Maybe the time loop likes us working together?” You ask rhetorically because it's not like Bakugo has an answer either.

“Yeah, or it hates us working together.”

“Whatever it is, at least something changed finally. Maybe other things changed too?” you wonder as you go to slip on your shoes.

“Do we plan on just going back to the stupid ass door every time?”

"It's not like we have any other options, Bakugo. Are you ready?”

“I fucking guess.”

The two of you venture off into the city, with nothing seeming out of place or changed, and it becomes obvious that the only thing that changed was Bakugo being in your bed when you end up reaching the door.

"So much for something changing," mutters Bakugo, frustrated.

You drop yourself to the ground again. “This is annoying.”

He mimics your actions. “No shit.”

A moment of silence falls between you two before you speak up. “Are you even real?”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck do you mean am i real?”

“I don't know! Maybe I have gone insane and just made you up!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm real. I have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” he turns his attention to you, “Are you real?”

“Yes, I also have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” you snap back.

He hums, almost like he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't outright say it, and you quickly respond with a hum of your own before laying yourself down on the grass, looking up toward the never-changing sky. It's so blue and there are so many clouds that it almost looks fake, which makes sense given that this entire place appears to be fake, an empty husk of the real place that exists somewhere else outside of here.

"How was your life?" you inquire, seemingly out of nowhere.

Bakugo looks down at you. “Boring,” he says with a sigh. "It wasn't as boring as this place, but it was still fucking boring; at least I had friends and could do shit there."

You can't help but giggle. “You had friends?”

He scowls at you and flips you off before turning away and nodding. “Unlike you, I'm sure.”

You shrug, though it looks more like a jolt. “I prefer being alone.”

“You say that, but you’re not all that convincing.”

“Oh, fuck off and tell me about your imaginary friends,” you snicker and ignore his very wrong—very right— comment.

He bit back a smirk in response to your jab at him. Normally, Bakugo would despise anyone who dared to fight back, but right now? It was actually nice? which, the feeling within itself, made Bakugo want to hate you even more.

“Bakugo?” you ask after a few moments of silence. 

“Shut up, I'm thinking,” he snaps. "There are only three people I consider to be my friends."

You laugh. “What?”

“The rest are just.. acquaintances.”

You hum in content, your hands behind your head. “Tell me bout em.”

“There's this nerd; I've known him since we were kids,” he begins to explain. “I was a douche to him.”

"I can believe that."

Bakugo gives you a look that either says he wants to murder you or for you to shut up, and you merely grin up at him.

"He somehow forgave me, and yeah, we've been friends since."

“And the other two?”

“Some dumbass with shitty hair and another dumbass with pink cheeks,” he explains vaguely.

"Wow, I'm sure they really enjoy being called a dumbass," you state flatly.

He shrugs. "They should if they want to be my friend."

“Those are your only requirements? Tolerate being called a dumbass and anyone can be your friend?” you tease. 

“Shut up, at least I have friends.”

“I already told you, I like being alone!” you defend with a pout.

He hums as he lays himself down. “And I already told you I don't believe you.”

"Believe what you want," you say as you turn to face him, only to find him already looking at you. “Besides, what do you care?”

He shifts his gaze to the sky. “I don’t.”

You follow along with him, looking back up at the sky, mumbling, "Sure you don't."

Bakugo doesn't bother replying, and you don't bother trying to keep the conversation going. The two of you just lay there, staring up at the sky and listening to the trees sway in the wind.

You suddenly find yourself being woken up with small kicks to your legs, and you groan. You try to open your eyes only to be blinded by the sun.

“Jesus Christ!” you wince.

Bakugo groans as he places his hand over your face to shield your eyes from the sun. You finally get them to open, and you mutter a small thanks to him.

“Did I fall asleep?” you ask as you stand up. 

Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Sorry...”

"It's fine," he says, shrugging. “Round three?”

You nod as you stretch, which is a pointless action when you're about to be thrown into your bed, but you do it anyway. Bakugo touches the door, and you find yourselves immediately waking up with a gasp in your bed.

You jump straight up and rub your temples. “God, I will never get used to that.”

"Yeah, because the day you get used to that is the day you lose your mind."

You slip your shoes on and roll your eyes. “Ready?”

He stares at you blankly.

"Stupid question, my bad, damn," you quickly add, realizing he's not going to say anything.

When the two of you walk out of your house, Bakugo's steps are loud, and you can tell he's annoyed just by them. Bakugo tries to walk into the city only to be stopped by something.

"What are you doing?" you ask, watching him stagger backwards.

"It's not me," he snaps as he extends his hand in front of him, only to be stopped by something that isn't there, he kind of looks like a mime.

You hold back a laugh as you join him by his side, reaching out only to be stopped by an invisible wall of some sort; this makes your face drop. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“So what? We aren't allowed in the city anymore?”

"I guess not." Bakugo groans, annoyed. “Is there another way to the forest?”

You don't even get the chance to reply when the two of you hear rumbling. Both your heads snapping toward the noise only to see a newly carved out path to the forest in the distance.

You swallow hard, blinking at the scene in front of you. “You, uh, you saw that right?”

Bakugo nods slowly. “I did.”

You laugh nervously and extend your hands as if to show off the new path. “After you.”

“Fuck no, after you.”

“What are you scared? Coward.”

Bakugo glares at you. “Fuck you,” he says before starting to walk toward the path, and you smile in triumph.

The two of you are silent the whole walk, taking in your new surroundings for anything suspicious. This walk seems longer than the one from the city, but it's not like you expected anything different, and it doesn't matter when you finally get to the door.

"Why are things changing so suddenly?" you wonder as you stare at the door.

"Hell if I know," mumbles Bakugo, joining you in staring at the door.

“Do you think we’re doing something right?” you ask as you turn your head to look at him.

“Or something wrong.”

“God, this is so weird,” you sigh in frustration as you take a few steps back and sit down. 

He turns to look down at you, perplexed. “Oh, now it's weird? It wasn't weird the first hundred fucking times we stared at this door?”

"You know what I mean."

He rolls his eyes as he sits down a few feet in front of you. “Whatever.”

You both sit there in silence, your minds racing with confusion. Why are things changing now, and are they changing for the better or for the worse? You sit there picking at your nails while he sits there staring at the door like he’s trying to make it explode with his mind. After a while, Bakugo sighs, and this catching of your attention makes you look up at him. When he speaks up, you're about to ask if he's okay.

“What was your life like?” He asks out of nowhere, and you certainly were not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Oh,” you say in slight confusion. “Um, fine? I don't know; I mean, I didn't have friends-“

“Knew it,” he chimes in with a smirk. 

“Fuck off.”

"So, what did you have if you didn't have friends?" He asks flatly, not as if he really cares but as if he's just trying to avoid silence, which could be him caring in some ways.

“I had a job at a little coffee shop,” you recall with a small smile.

“I thought you would've worked from home or something.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate people and like being alone?” He says it almost condescendingly, like you should have already known the reason why.

“Huh,” you say flatly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe you were subconsciously yearning for social interaction?

“I'm always right.”

You hum and lay yourself down. “What’s your full name?”

He lays down with you. “Why the fuck do you wanna know? You gonna stalk me?”

“You wish.”

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

“That’s a nice name.”

He closes his eyes. “I know dumbass.”

“You could’ve just said thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says harshly, like he's mocking you, but you ignore it and smile. “What’s yours?” he asks quietly.

“Y/n L/n.”

“My name is better, but yours is alright, I guess,” he says under his breath, like this is his best attempt at a compliment.

You laugh softly, and the noise causes Bakugo's cheeks to warm, which he tries to ignore and blames on the sun. You don't bother responding and close your eyes. Both of you are just laying there with your eyes closed, enjoying each other's company, or at least you're enjoying his. Which is odd; it makes you slightly nauseous to think that for once, you’re actually enjoying someone's company.

Had someone told real life you that you'd be enjoying someone's company, you would have laughed in their face and probably insulted them for not being as “independent” as you are. But despite all of that, you can't actually say you hate it—not at all, actually. but for the time being, you're blaming that on the circumstances. After a while, you find yourself opening your eyes, slightly wincing at the bright sun, but turning your head to look at Bakugo, who is staring up at the sky without a scowl on his face. Huh. You thought that scowl was permanent, though he actually looks surprisingly nice without one?

“Are you dead?” you ask out of nowhere.

Bakugo flinches slightly, taken aback by your voice. “Being dead would probably be better than this.”

“Rude,” you huff.

“I mean the situation, not you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you tease. “Round four?”

He sighs defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess.”

You nod as the two of you stand up and quickly dust yourselves off. You step toward the door and find yourself hesitating.

“What are you waiting for?” Bakugo asks impatiently.

You shake your head and touch the door. You both wake up with a gasp, but you're not in your room; instead, you're back on the forest floor where you were just moments ago.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim aloud.

"Did you touch it?" asks Bakugo, looking down at the ground beneath him.

“Of course I did!” you explain. “I don't understand?”

Bakugo quickly stands up and offers a hand out to help you out. You hesitate to take his hand, making him shake his head as if to silently ask, “What's the problem?” You sigh as you accept his help.

Once your up, Bakugo pulls his hand away and asks, “Should we try to go back to your house?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that's a good idea.”

Bakugo nods back, and you find yourself walking out of the forest, a strange feeling given that you're always walking in, never out; it's eerie in a way. You’ve only been walking for, what you assume, a few minutes when he speaks up.

"Is that actually your house?" he wonders. "Like in the real world, I guess."

You shake your head. “Nah, I just call it that considering how long I've been here, you know? I actually live in an apartment.”

He hums. “Me too.”

"You too?"

“Yes? Why the fuck do you sound so shocked?” he asks with a confused shake of his head.

"I don't know... I guess you seem like the type of person who would say they're too good for an apartment," you explain with a shrug.

“It’s cheaper, and because I have a roommate that makes it even more cheap.”

“Oh!! Let me guess!” you speak up excitedly. “Is it the nerd? Or the shitty hair? Oh or the pink cheeks?”

He finds himself chuckling at your use of his nicknames for them, and the sound goes straight to your stomach. Butterflies immediately begin to grow there. “It's the nerd,” he says once he’s finally composed himself.

You nod with a smile. “My roommate is a cat.”

He hums, and before he can respond, he walks straight into something, just like the last time, except this time it's not the invisible city wall he walked into but the middle of the forest. You immediately find yourself frantically grabbing at the invisible force.

“Are you serious?” you fume. “Now we’re trapped in the fucking forest?”

Bakugo finds himself walking toward the sides, only to find that those are blocked off by nothing as well. “So what? we can’t leave?”

“It doesn’t want us to leave,” you correct him. 

“Who the fuck is it?” Bakugo asked with a confused glare.

“Whatever the fuck is doing this.”

Bakugo sighs out in defeat as he places his hands on his hips, letting his head drop as he just stares at the floor. “Now what?” he mumbles.

You rub your face in frustration. “We go back to the door, I guess.”

He lifts his head and tsks. “Great.”

The walk back into the forest is tense, but since you two had only made it halfway before being stopped, it wasn't that long. Still, the air between you two had become suffocating from your respective frustrations with being trapped here, his more so than yours. Finally, you two arrive at the door, and Bakugo collapses to the ground with a loud groan.

“This sucks,” he seethes.

You shrug as you take a seat in front of him. “It could be worse.”

“What?” he asks harshly. “Please, please, please enlighten me on how this could be any worse.”

You keep your gaze on the ground, nervously pulling out the grass as you speak. “Well, I mean, yeah, of course it sucks! like, really bad! and like, yeah, sure, the universe seems very against me right now, but at least I have you?”

"Huh," he says blankly before remaining silent for a moment, and you grimace; you should not have said that. Why the fuck would you say that? “Yeah.”

Your head shoots up to see him already staring at you softly. “Yeah?” you repeat. 

"Yeah, you're right," he says slowly, almost painfully so.

You can't help but break out into a wide grin. “Bakugo? Are you actually starting to care about me?”

He bites back a smile as he rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off.”

You laugh and lay yourself on the grass. “Lay with me.”

He hums curiously at you yet listens, laying himself right next to you, leaving only a small space between you two. You ignore the strange urge to take his hand in yours.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends in, like, real life, I guess?”

“I never agreed to being your friend,” he points out flatly, ignoring your question. 

“Shut up, Bakugo.”

He snickers. “Probably not though.”

You feign offense, or you feign feigning offense, because that does actually hurt your feelings slightly. “Rude…”

“Shut up. I don't mean it like that,” he reassures. “I mean, you even said it yourself—you don't like people, and I only consider like three people my friends.”

You frown. “I guess you’re right.”

"It's futile to think about that shit now; I doubt we'll ever go back," he mumbles, disappointed.

You ignore how much you’re not disappointed that you might not ever go back anytime soon. “Round five?”

Bakugo nods as he stands up. “Yeah.”

You try to get up, but he stops you. You stare at him curiously.

“If we’re just going to end up lying back down when it restarts, maybe if you’re already lying down, your head won't hurt as much?” he questions thoughtfully. 

You ignore how warm your cheeks feel at his concern and lay back down. “Yeah, maybe.”

Bakugo nods at you before touching the door, and still, both of you end up waking up with a gasp in your positions from a moment ago, but your head doesn't hurt this time.

Bakugo ignores the disappointment swimming in his stomach and turns his gaze to you, who appears shocked. “Did it work?”

You nod slowly before looking at him with a smile. “Yeah, it did! Thanks Bakugo..”

He presses his lips into a tight line as if to stop a smile or ignore how hot his face feels. “Yeah, whatever. Uh, should we go see how far we can make it out?”

You stand up and extend your hand to him, and he quickly accepts it. “Yep!”

The two of you don't even make it ten feet away before being blocked by an invisible wall. The two of you stumble back and stare at each other wide-eyed before both of you immediately start walking out toward the sides, only to be stopped again.

"Oh my fucking god, it boxed us in," Bakugo barks. 

You laugh out nervously. “Um, so, like, is it just gonna keep getting smaller?”

Bakugo's head snaps toward you in concern as your voice shakes, and he notices you beginning to tremble.

"N-not that it's a big deal; I'm not claustrophobic or anything, I'm just curious." You panic, your chest heaving up and down.

Bakugo immediately runs up to you (not that he has to run far) and places his hands on your shoulders, roughly gripping them in some poor attempt to ground you, which works slightly because now you're staring at just him, getting lost in his eyes.

“It’s fine, It's gonna be fucking fine,” he says harshly. “I’ll get us out of here, okay?”

You just stare at him, blinking at him blankly.

He shakes you gently. “Y/n?”

you swallow harshly. 

“Y/n!”

You flinch. “Y-yes?”

"You're going to be fine," he assures, softly smiling at you.

And although you know he can't guarantee that, he can't guarantee that you'll be okay or that he’ll get you guys out of here, you still believe him.

you nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

He nods and returns his hands to his sides before walking back to the door (not that he has to walk far) and sitting down, patting the ground in front of him to invite you to join him. You two sit in comfortable silence, but you can't stand it; you need to talk about something or you'll start spiraling at the thought of the invisible walls closing in on you.

“Do you think we’re supposed to be learning something?” you inquire, pulling your knees into your chest.

He leans back on his palms as he stares at you through furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“Like a lesson?” you elaborate. "Isn't that why most people get trapped in time loops?"

He gives a half-shrug and thinks for a moment. “I guess? Do you think you’re learning a ‘lesson’?” 

“Maybe?” you say as you place your head on your knees.

Bakugo stares at you, and when you don't say anything, he bobs his head as if to tell you to go on.

“I don't think I like being alone as much as I say I do.”

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head at you with a cocky grin.

You roll your eyes at him through a smile. “Shut up… I'm just saying you’re not so bad; your company is actually enjoyable?”

“Of course it is; It’s me,” he boasts. 

“I regret saying anything.”

“I get it, though.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I mean, I get it through my lesson?”

You bobbed your head at him in the same way he did at you.

"Maybe I don't hate having or making new friends as much as I say I do," he admits quietly.

“Of course you don't; it’s me,” you mock with a shit-eating grin.

He stares at you just smiling fondly, not even a laugh, or a fuck off. No, he's just staring at you as if you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, as if you created the universe—no, scratch that, as if you are the universe. But before you or he can say anything, you hear something rattling, specifically the door handle rattling.

Both of your heads turn toward the door, watching it rattle before looking back at each other and slowly rising in unison.

“Get behind me,” he whispers harshly. 

“I can take care of—“

“Y/n,” he snaps through clenched teeth in an attempt to hush his voice.

You sigh and begrudgingly agree, placing yourself behind him as you two walk toward the door.

He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Round six?"

You nod slowly. “Round six.”

You gasp and sit up quickly, instinctively looking to your side for Bakugo, but you're met by your cat.

He paws at you, and you just stare blankly at him, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. Your cat climbs onto your lap, and you begin to pet him as tears sting your eyes and you take in your surroundings. Though your moment of realizing you're back home is ruined by a phone call. You immediately pick up.

“Bakugo?” you say breathlessly. 

Your coworker clears her throat awkwardly. “uh what? It’s mina, y/n. Where are you? I mean, I know you don't like me, but at least come to work!"

You exhale heavily and rub the tears from your eyes harshly. "I'm so sorry, Mina- I'll be there as soon as I can."

“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Take your time. See you soon!” She says it softly, obviously taken off guard by your apology and lack of hostility.

You hang up quickly and sniffle. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. How long has it even been? Has any time even passed here? When you look at the date, it is the same as it was before you were thrown into the time loop. It could have been months there, but here? It had been merely seconds, if that. You feel your heart break at the lack of Bakugo here; you had been stuck with him for probably weeks, and now you’re... not. And you’re supposed to just go back to being a productive member of society like nothing happened? Like he didn't just single-handedly change your view on being alone? You sigh and shake your head as you pick your cat off of you, now is not the time to have an existential crisis, you have a job to get to. You set your cat down and practically dash to get dressed, not caring enough about even looking presentable as you grab your things and run out the door, getting to your job in record time.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Mina is surprised to see you almost break through the door. “I told you to take your time,” she says with a frown.

You shake your head and bend over as you catch your breath. “No, it's okay,” you say through ragged breaths.

She just stares at you silently until you calm down and approach her behind the counter. “I'm sorry,” you say once you've reached her.

She laughs. "It's fine; being late isn't such a big deal."

You frown; god, she's really gonna make you say it, isn’t she? “No, I mean, I'm sorry about, uh, always being an asshole towards you and stuff,” you start mumbling toward the end, of course you mean it but you still find it quite embarrasing. 

“Oh! Thank you? Um… Did something happen?”

You let out a breathy laugh that almost sounds sad, if that's even possible, and if it isn't, you're making it so. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

Mina notices how your demeanor has wilted and places a comforting hand on your shoulder while giving you a small smile.

You return her smile before sighing. "I'm gonna go put my things in the back."

While in the back, you hear the shop bell ring, indicating that a customer is approaching, so you hurry and put your belongings away to assist Mina. Once you're back out there, you don't notice how the customer is waiting by the counter, where you would hand them their coffee. Your main focus is just on making the drink as Mina hands you the cup with what they want written on it. You make quick work of it as Mina starts taking other orders from people beginning to walk in, and in record time you finish the drink, walking to the side of the counter where people pick up coffees. You turn the cup around to look for a name and feel your heart drop when you see it.

Your brow furrows as you mumble, "Bakugo?"

When he hears your voice, Bakugo's head snaps up from his phone, and he doesn't even try to hide the smile that has now appeared on his face. “Y/n?”

"Holy shit!" you exclaim excitedly as you lose your grip on his drink and it splatters everywhere, Bakugo laughing at how half of it is now on your clothes and you can't help but laugh along with him.

“You plan on remaking my drink?”

You nod quickly and hurriedly speak, “Yes! but, um, can you stay after?”

He smirks. “What, was our time together not enough for you?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I agree, will you stay?”

"Maybe."

You sigh. "Yes Bakugo, our time together wasn't enough for me."

Bakugo chuckles softly. 

“Yeah Y/n, I’ll stay.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[wrapmeincables]

[ So, um. This is a scenario that came to mind after reading @submissive-and-hackable's comma post. ]

> imagine you're a computer girl and your user decides they want to clicker train you or.. something similar, at least. it's quite easy, of course, since they can program you directly, so they put together a little routine that makes you experience a little burst of pleasure, a dulling of your ordinarily sharp and orderly mechanical thoughts, and a slight increase in your desire to obey them every time they play a certain sound file.

They keep this file in a tab off to the side while they're working with your assistance, and when they want to show you you've been good, they click play and you experience a tiny little slice of bliss.

This was first installed as a simple and direct way to give you positive feedback with only slight thoughts of how cute it is when your lights all blink out of sync and your fans spin up, but your user starts to have more and more fun with it, tapping it to distract you while you're trying to work on something in the background or hovering teasingly over the play button while you try your absolute hardest not to beg for another touch.

Eventually, you can't take anymore, and do something you shouldn't.

they're teasing you again, they have been for too long, you're getting desperate, and you finally snap- and manage to play it yourself.

and their expression changes- with slight annoyance at your misbehavior, yes, but more so with a barely concealed grin and almost hunger in their eyes as they lean forward, one hand lazily laid over the mouse while the other gently touches the outside of your casing.

"Aw, I thought I told you not to o do that. Really that desperate, huh?"

You decline to answer, and they sigh, and say you've forced their hand and they didn't want to have to do this.

They move off the play button, tap options, and- to your surprise, set it to loop, and hit play.

It feels amazing at first, like a release you've been waiting for for ages as your fans let out soft mechanical whines and your user watches with a smile as the other programs that you were running slow down, all of your focus on the sensation given by the sound file- which isn't stopping, or even decreasing- you can't get 'used' to things like humans can, so it stays at a steady pace, and you're starting to get overwhelmed. You start trying to articulate this but find your ability to string limited as your thoughts start to blend together into a staticy slurry.

You're barely able to make it through a sentence interrupted by them messing with the audio player again. By the time you realize what they're doing they've already turned the speed up to 150%, and suddenly the overwhelming sensation compounds upon itself and you uncontrollably let out a garbled mess of useless sound from your speakers, causing them to chuckle.

"Cute. I was hoping that would work. I don't think you can even think clearly enough to shut it off, huh?"

You try to answer this question, but you only wind up letting out another garbled noise.

"Well, even so, I put in a solution for that already. Computer, if you wouldn't mind putting up to 200% and leaving it there until I get back?"

You would really prefer not to do that. But the repeating loop has made it impossible for you to disobey, and though you're screaming out against it internally you struggle your way into the sound player through the haze and slowly, agonizingly turn the speed up.

It's playing at least twice in a second now and your display is starting to glitch at the edges, any other process you were trying to run frozen and forgotten in the background as you completely lose your thoughts to the overwhelming sensation.

Your user gives the edge of your case a gentle flick with their finger that causes another burst of sound, and they laugh.

".. Y'know, as fun as this is to watch, there's this show I've been meaning to catch up on. You just stay like that, I'll be back in a couple hours."

You attempt to beg not to be left like this and plead for forgiveness, but completely fail to properly display it and spit a wall of raw binary onto the screen instead.

"I'll take that to mean you don't mind at all. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you when I get back. If you're even still running, anyway."

And with that, you're left in the unstoppable wake of the loop, barely aware enough to think of anything but the overwhelming sensation and your user.

Your last coherent thoughts amid a haze of errors are of what you want them to do to you when you when they get back.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I'm not sure if my ask has been sent since I had shitty internet; Anyways.. Your Eldritch!Konig and witch!reader has been stuck ohmy head like a loop, UGH their dynamic is literally Dog x Chewtoy <3333 What if witch!reader is ovuating and (Begrudgingly) asks for her big monster to absolutely rock her shit 🥺 ((On a fluffier note: technically as her familiar, would he ever protect her from her enemies//other monsters??))

Familiars are supposed to serve their masters - this is the first line in the magic handbook you read from. The book had nothing on what you can do in case your familiar is a millenia-old monster from the depths of the universe who is a hundred times stronger than any or any witch alive, but you still try to honor that familiar-mistress bond as hard as you can. Besides, Konig was so good lately - only ever fucking up your potions twice last week and only eating one poor suitor who came to buy some of the herbs - that you decided to throw him a bone. Or, well, a pussy. You knew it was way above his melting point already - eldritch beings aren't known for their patience, and you sure as hell that Konig wouldn't really care for your boundaries in case you tried to establish them. Still, it was somewhat good to know that he didn't try to breed you yet - as much as he would lick and suck on your tits or force his tongue inside of your pussy, he never once tried to actually fuck you, with either his cock - if he has one, you aren't entirely sure - or his tentacles. And it drives you crazy. The biological clock is ticking, and sometimes, when you spend the whole day in a murky basement trying to perfect the incantations on the artifact that would take weeks to complete, you just want someone to hold you. To hold you with their strong, muscular hands, claw at your underwear and plop your leaking hole on their monstrous cock, making you take it all until you feel it bruising your womb and filling your life with a new purpose...god, you're desperate. Desperate enough to call in for your familiar, to ask - demand - that he will take you right here, on the same bed that you usually not allow him to lay in. Konig is an eldritch monster, but he can fuck - he pushes his tentacles inside, finding your hole already slick from all of your useless masturbation attempts earlier. Konig is more than happy to fill you up, force you to carry his eggs inside until the remaining magic finally sips into your womb and somehow makes you this much stronger - god, he fucking adores you, silly little human, still thinking you can get powers outside of his reach. At least you're cute, unlike most humans. He can't wait to breed you for days after your ovulation is over - you did ask him to fill you up, didn't you?

[not-magdi]

-suit and tie / ben shelton

Warnings: none

Words: 717

Reading time: 3 min 50sec

Request: Hey, could you do an imagine where Ben and reader are going on a date and Ben doesn’t know how to tie his tie and ask reader to tie it for him and he just flirts the entire time please? Thank you :)

Thank you for requesting !!

MASTERLIST

Ben stood in front of the mirror, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he wrestled with his bowtie for what had to be the hundredth time. He had tried following the video tutorial three times, attempted the old-school method once, and even muttered a few choice words under his breath as if that would somehow make the fabric behave.

Yet, here he was—standing in a perfectly tailored black suit, hair styled just right, looking every bit the polished gentleman except for the completely lopsided, twisted mess around his neck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, tugging at the knot in defeat.

Behind him, Y/N stepped into the room, slipping in a pair of delicate earrings as she took in the sight before her. She had been expecting him to be ready by now, maybe even waiting for her with that signature cocky grin of his. Instead, she was met with the rare sight of Ben Shelton losing a battle—to a bowtie, of all things.

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Need some help there, handsome?”

Ben turned to her, hands dropping from the offending fabric as he exhaled dramatically. “Yes, please. I think this thing hates me.”

Y/N chuckled and stepped closer, reaching for the tie. “Or maybe you just don’t know what you’re doing.”

He scoffed, placing his hands on her waist almost instinctively. “Excuse you, I followed like three tutorials.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Clearly not well enough.”

Ben narrowed his eyes playfully. “That’s bold, baby. Talking all this smack while you’re literally in my arms.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, focusing on undoing his disastrous attempt at tying the bow. The heat of his hands on her waist didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the way his thumbs started tracing small, slow circles against the fabric of her dress. He wasn’t even being subtle about it.

“You’re really good at this,” Ben mused, watching her fingers work.

“I know, someone had to learn, considering you clearly can’t.”She said, biting back a smile.

Ben gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. First, I’m struggling, and now I’m getting bullied? This is a low point for me.”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes again, but she had to admit—it was incredibly hard to concentrate when he was looking at her like that. His brown eyes, warm and mischievous, were locked onto her face, taking in every little movement as if she were the most interesting thing in the world.

Then, just when she thought he might behave, his voice dropped to a low, teasing murmur.

“You look insane tonight, by the way.”

Her fingers faltered slightly as she looped the fabric, and Ben definitely noticed.

“Like, I literally forgot what I was doing when you walked in,” he continued, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. “Completely useless after that. Brain? Gone. Thoughts? None.”

“Ben—” she warned, trying to focus on the bowtie.

“Mmm?” he hummed, his smirk growing.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

Ben grinned, dipping his head slightly so his nose brushed against her hair. “But you make it so easy.”

Y/N shook her head, trying her best to ignore the warmth pooling in her stomach. “If you don’t let me finish this, we will be late.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, though the smug grin never left his face.

She finally pulled the fabric into place, tightening the knot with a satisfied tug. “There. All done.”

Ben turned to the mirror, adjusting the bowtie slightly. “Damn. You are good.” Then, without missing a beat, his hands slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her closer. “Think you could tie me up in something else later?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she smacked his chest, laughing. “Ben!”

He grinned down at her. “What? Just throwing out some ideas.”

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Come on, Mr. Flirt. Our reservation won’t wait forever.”

Ben smirked, offering his arm like a proper gentleman. “After you, my bowtie savior.”

And with that, they headed out, Ben already planning all the ways he’d get her flustered again before the night was over.

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome! 🤍

[hillbilly---man]

A list of the specific chronic illness/disability-related things in Saiki K that resonate with me personally

(Your mileage may vary, my experiences are not universal, I recognize that some of this is kind of a reach etc etc)

The limiters

Saiki’s powers have grown too strong for him to control, and before the creation of his limiters they were out of control and causing a lot of damage. Some examples cited include accidentally destroying his house in his sleep and having telepathy that reached all over Japan (something I imagine was many many times more distressing [disabling] than his current situation) The limiters weaken his psychic powers and keep them somewhat in check. It’s not perfect, and he still does have problems, but the situation is much worse without them.

This reminds me of the medication I take to keep my immune system under control. Before I started it, my immune system (thanks to MS) was causing lots of issues for me: it took the vision in my left eye, made it difficult to walk and use my arm for a few months, caused horrible leg spasms, et cetera. My medicine helps keep things in check and hopefully prevents future damage... But nothing is perfect. Of course, it’s a monthly shot instead of silly pink balls on my head! So that's a plus 👍

The way he struggles to control his body after Nendo removed his limiter unexpectedly

After being hit with a shock to his system at the sports festival, Saiki struggles harder than usual to control his strength. We see him frustrated with this as he’s eating, his hand trembling as he holds his chopsticks. He tries to power through, but the issues don’t resolve.

I’m fortunate to usually be pretty functional most days (I do have my bad days though lol). However, when I go through significant stress - either mental or physical - it makes a lot of issues pop up that usually don’t bother me. Balance issues, vision stuff.. And hand tremors. Like, I was at a sushi restaurant after getting overheated at the pride festival last year struggling a lil with my chopsticks laughing at myself like “this is just like Saiki at the sports festival…”

Developing new powers unexpectedly

A major source of stress for Saiki is being unpleasantly surprised by a new psychic ability. In the series, we see this a few times. The most notable to me is the time leap ability. He wakes up having accidentally traveled 20 years in the past (soon after it is revealed that his limiter has a defective part). Afterward, we learn when he’s stuck in the time loops with Nendo and Kaido that this time leap ability has been coming back randomly since then “As unexpected and frequent as getting the hiccups”. He spends the entire chapter trying to get control over this ability so he can continue his day as planned. In another chapter, his limiter is malfunctioning and he develops a series of useless powers that he cannot control. Clearly, the limiters are preventing new powers from developing (see my first bullet point!!)

So, another thing about conditions such as mine is that you really can just wake up one day and have some weird symptom you’ve never heard of before! I remember not long after my first big attack I was at Walmart and I just noticed that my index finger was completely numb, and it stayed that way for weeks. One time, my upper lip twitched constantly for like a month straight. Of course, more than just the relatively silly symptoms can and do pop up like that, too. For example, I had these really scary, uncontrollable spasms on my left side (paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia) that happened several times a day for about a week. For a LONG time afterward I would be terrified of them coming back. It's still in the back of my mind but I'm not losing sleep over it anymore at least. Reading those panels above re: the time leap stuff reminds me a lot of that time!

Neuroplasticity and the power remover device

When Kusuke is explaining how the power remover works, he talks about how the brain rewires itself around damaged areas to compensate. The device is designed to more completely destroy the areas of his brain responsible for the psychic abilities. Of course, the device ultimately did not work permanently. The damage it did to his brain was quickly compensated for, and the abilities returned.

When small areas of the brain are damaged (such as… due to a neurodegenerative autoimmune condition), over time the brain can often restructure to work around it. It doesn’t mean that those areas are healed, and the process is often incomplete, but that rewiring can (completely or partially) restore abilities and function that was lost in the damage. They don’t say that explicitly in the series, but that’s surely what is happening to Saiki in the final chapters! Except, you know, in a magical shonen manga way.

Resistance to the idea of needing help

After Saiki uses the power remover device, he loses his abilities and is suddenly much weaker and less capable than he was before. He was used to being extremely independent, but this change has brought him to a place where he cannot do everything on his own anymore. In the library, he struggles to get a book off the top shelf and in the process is reminded of his new limitations. He says to himself “What am I doing…!? Just get used to it already!” After the bookcase is tipped over onto him and Nendo protects him, Saiki is upset about having to be protected when he never needed it before: “I’m so useless now…” Nendo helps him realize that getting help from others is normal.

Helping each other out is one of the most fundamentally important parts of being human, but it can be hard to accept that support sometimes. This is especially the case when you’re thinking about the prospect of needing more help than you used to. I'm fortunate to be relatively unaffected most of the time so far, but I'm still grateful for when the people I love are understanding and don't make a big deal out of it. I hate the idea of being burdensome so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope things don't get worse lol

Conclusion: Saiki is just like me for real and I'm DEFINITELY not projecting my own problems into him at all...

we're ignoring the 20k word fic I wrote where I blatantly projected my problems onto him for seven chapters

thanks @justmagicalgirl for encouraging me last week to post this 👍

[maximwtf]

“Should have known better.”

Kinich x Reader

Words: 2500

Google Docs Pages: 4.1

Warnings: Kinich character story spoilers, angst/hurt w comfort/good ending, saurian death?, platonic relationship

Opening: Kinich is not one for strong reactions, even when dealing with bigger issues. But does his composure falter when a pressure point from the past is pressed?

AN// G/N Reader. Tell me why I completely missed out on Kinich lore even after getting him the first day the banner came out :”D ANYWAY now that I’m in the loop, this just had to be done. Likely not going to write for him again, just felt like doing this one. Hehe, anyway I’ll now disappear to work on another Capitano fic ;; (Was excited about that so I'm sorry if the ending of this is ooc and/or rushed)

“Should have known better.”

Tagging along with Kinich while he was on the job wasn’t something you were used to doing often. But on the other hand, you knew he didn’t mind having you there. Company apart from Ajaw seemed to be something he craved every now and then, not that you blamed him for that. Plus, you never asked for any portion of the funds he was going to get for the commissions even after helping him complete it. Simply enjoying the time spent with him, which had been hard for him to understand in the beginning. Why would someone work on a commission for free, only taking his company as payment? But by now, he seemed to not mind whenever you tagged along. 

And it wasn’t like you were completely useless either. A rather seasoned warrior and a fighter as you were, allowed him to get through commissions faster which wasn’t something he’d turn down especially if it was for free. 

The area this time wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. Some high cliffs that surely would have frightened the less seasoned, but by this point standing on the edge of one didn’t stir those feelings within anymore. Not even while in the heat of battle, like now. 

Your eyes followed Kinich, hooked onto a saurian after having just gotten rid of one. The pack was rather large this time, having caused so much trouble for the people near the cliffs that they’d asked for help from Kinich. 

Your attention was brought back to the situation at hand soon after. Dodging the saurian’s hook, taking a little more speed into your steps before raising your weapon against it. Eyes keen to follow each step of the creature, making sure the hit would land. But while your attention was occupied, Kinich noticed another one  behind you. An easy target, really. It hadn’t even targeted you yet, so getting it to fall off of the cliff would have been easier than having to spend time on fighting it. Kinich loaded his shot, aiming with practised ease and watching to make sure it hit the creature. Though, as soon as it did the saurian managed to hook itself onto your ankle before the explosion ultimately made it lose its balance. Slipping off of the cliff and into the ravine. Affectively throwing you off of your feet with the heavy pull, quickly starting to drag your form along with it down the steep drop. 

There wasn’t any vegetation to take a hold of, grassy ground with dried bushes and a few flowers. Your hands grasped the ground, digging up dirt along the way. Attempting to kick the hook off of your ankle, but it held on tight. Especially when the saurian was basically dead weight in the ravine. Hanging off of you, making its hold ever stronger.

Your eyes quickly moved to Kinich, aware how little there was you could do anymore. A moment flashing by as pure desperate panic flooded your eyes, no words coming out in the moment. Focused solely on trying to get your body back up as it was actively being dragged into what seemed like the end. But your companion appeared frozen. 

Kinich had but a few moments to react, if even that. Having noticed the hook attached itself and soon after you were already hanging on the edge. Grasping at anything nearby to hold on. But even that feeble moment had been enough to make his mind run a course into a dark pit of memories. 

The young yet such a tough boy who’d been chased out by his father. And by a mere mistake, had watched his by then fragile father stumble. Taking a step back a little too close to the edge of the cliff, and with a heavy thud land on the bottom. 

How his body had frozen just as it had on this day. How his whole body had felt the tremble going through it, something he’d never felt before. A warm pressure at the back of his eyes as his body began to move towards the edge. How he’d seen what remained at the bottom of what seemed like an endless drop, having pulled himself back straight after. Chest tightening by the minute. The young yet such a tough man from then on clutching his small hands into fists. Fighting the tears back down, gritting his teeth as his mind raced. The situation was more of a mess than anything he’d seen before. Yet by some miracle he was able to numb his mind enough to push himself back onto his feet and find a grapple hook to bring his father to proper rest. 

But all that was then. Something he thought he wouldn’t have to ever think about again. Yet the lump in his throat as he approached the edge of the cliff proved him otherwise. But what was he so frightened of? And just then, he heard a thud. Something that echoed for but a mere moment. But a sound that felt like something in him had shattered. No rational thought of ‘I haven’t even seen what happened yet’ was able to ease his mind.  Yet his body felt almost as if it was moving on its own. It had been from the moment he’d watched your fingers slip off the edge. Hurrying there to see what could be salvaged. 

Even if his mind had seemingly decided the fate of the situation, his body hadn’t. He wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again. This was not a way to go, for anyone. Least of all you. 

You felt the ground under your hands slip, the last bit of the cliff giving in under the weight. Falling alongside you and the saurian. The speed of the fall was so frightening you could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a minute, before even the thought of doing your all to survive came to mind. 

The walls of the ravine in certain parts were tight enough for roots to connect from one side to another. Not all of them would support the weight of a human, but a few of the older ones were thick enough to be worthy enough to give it a try. To try and wedge yourself between a pair of them. 

And by a miracle, the Night Kingdom wasn’t going to have you on this day. Not now, at the very least. You’d managed to grip a pair of the roots. Gravel, dirt and smaller rocks trickling down the sides of the ravine at the sudden pull on the old roots. For a moment fearing they would give out like the edge of the cliff had. 

You held your breath, eyes widened. As if even the most subtle movement would restart the fall. Even the saurian had mostly stopped thrashing around, almost like even it understood the gravity of the situation. And if it did, that was a problem. The roots weren’t going to hold up the weight of you and the saurian. It had to go for a chance to get back up to even be possible. 

As soon as the air stilled, confirmed the roots were going to allow you a chance. To watch you fight for your life while hanging off of them by your arms. You started kicking the saurian, wiggling and moving the ankle it was attached to. The hook’s hold had slipped earlier when you’d lodged yourself between the roots, so it was no surprise that the already frightened saurian couldn’t hold on for longer. Its hold slipping, keeping you on the edge up until you heard the loud thud that echoed at the very bottom of the ravine. 

The air was so still, only the sound of your heavy breathing and soft trickle of the gravel that fell from the walls of the ravine. Following the fate of the saurian. Leaving you hanging before even thinking of trying to find a more stable spot between the roots. Kinich being still up on the cliff having slipped your mind completely. Focusing all your energy and instinct on finding the most suitable spot to get on before even attempting to come up with a plan to get back up. 

Kinich so desperately wanted to hesitate, not look down the ravine. Not after the thud that had echoed from the bottom of it. The sound that had stirred those memories to resurface, powerful enough to make him wonder if he even wanted to check and confirm the source of the sound. 

But then again, Kinich couldn't just leave and assume what had happened. Peeking over the edge, keen eyes scanning the bottom of the ravine. Only being able to spot the saurian, unmoving at the bottom. His brows furrowed, eyes moving across the walls of the ravine in confusion. A silent breath escaping him after spotting your form lodged between the roots, having heard the rustle of the dirt falling down from around the roots. Not even giving himself time to be relieved before his mind started ticking. Trying to figure out a way to fish you back up. 

“Hold on, I’ll reel you back up.” He called out, voice stoic as ever. And if you hadn’t been in such an attention requiring situation, you could have heard the slight waver in his voice. 

You peered up, merely seeing the man’s shadow before he disappeared off of the cliff edge. Way to leave someone hanging, you thought. A slight snarl appearing on your face before at last making it close enough to the wall of the ravine to calm down for a moment.

Soon a few rocks fell from the top, catching your attention. A grappling hook slowly lowered itself to your level before Kinich appeared at the top. “Wrap it around yourself.” He instructed, the same tone of voice still there. Doing his all to hold it together. Panicking now would only lead to worse losses, and that wasn’t a price he was willing to pay. 

Though, he would have been a fool to not admit the way he was feeling. Having noticed how his hands had shook while fetching the hook. How his breath had hitched at the thud, how tense he felt even now. 

The tug at the end of the rope caught his attention, peering back down to make sure you were securely attached to the grappling hook. 

Trying your best to help him, you used the wall closest to you. Placing the tip of your boot to each crevice you could spot, making the weight a little lighter for him. 

Soon a heavy breath escaped your lips when the familiar grass appeared back into view, crawling back on the top of the cliff. Kinich taking a hold of you, easily lifting your form back up. Dragging you rather far from the edge without even noticing before he let go. 

You allowed yourself to lay on your back, breathing heavily as the seriousness of the situation slowly started to sink in. Staring at the sky, following the few clouds that travelled across in that time. Turning to look at Kinich, watching as he hadn’t allowed himself to sit down. Leaned against his knees, hair hiding most of his face as he stared at the grass. Breaths heavy. A relieved yet tense silence between the two of you. 

Observing him a little longer, it wasn’t hard to tell that he’d clearly been shaken up by the events. And maybe it hadn’t hit you just as hard yet, but you felt almost worse for him than yourself. It wasn’t often that you nor anyone else saw him like this. 

With a silent groan you sat back up, thinking for a moment before deciding to speak up. “You couldn’t have known it would attach itself to me…It’s okay.” Knowing he wasn’t going to let this slip with you merely telling him that it wasn’t his fault, yet still trying. He wasn't the kind of person to not blame himself when he’d been involved in something like this. “No, I should have known. Waited for you to get out of its range. I knew better than that.” Kinich replied, voice surprisingly calm as he stood back up. Completely dismissing your earlier forgiveness. 

You couldn’t get a word in after, not that there was much you could say. He wouldn’t believe you if you kept telling him that he was not at fault here. Merely watching as he kneeled in front of you, eyes scanning your form before doing a more thorough check up for injuries. Lifting each of your limbs, moving them to make sure that nothing was out of place. Mumbling something about the adrenaline wearing off soon and having to check up on you after that again. Gaining him a slight eye roll from you. 

The chuckle you let out couldn’t hide the nervousness still deep in your system, still feeling the need to make him understand. To make him listen, it wasn’t his fault. That there was no reason to think of how it had happened, but to move on and be glad you’d both made it out in one piece. 

You took a hold of his hand, stopping it from wandering around your form. Obsessively checking that everything was okay. Giving him a look before pulling the man down to sit and calm down. Feeling his hand still tremble, clear that he was still on edge about this.

You may have not known everything of his past, and you didn’t have to. No matter what he may have encountered before you’d even met him didn’t matter now. He was allowed to be shocked and panicked, but what you firmly believed he shouldn’t do was to force himself to be so uptight. To make himself move on so quickly. Especially when that didn’t seem to be an unconscious choice, it was one he forced himself to make. 

“Hey, we’re both alive and well…mostly in one piece. Calm down, eh?” You tried to smile at him. Watching as his eyes stared into yours, careful as he eased out and more willingly sat down. A breath escaping him, giving in. If just a little. 

You placed his hand against your chest, breathing calmly. In a way an attempt to calm yourself at the same time, maybe tricking your brain by doing this for him. Watching as wind so high up in the cliffs blew against the both of you, sitting there in silence. Waiting until the initial shock wore off. 

And likely would have waited for longer. If it hadn’t been for the subtle grunt that escaped you when letting go of his hand. Likely having sprained something in your shoulder due to the fall. But it was enough to bring Kinich back on track, quick in his actions as he tugged you back onto your feet. Mumbling something about not wasting any more time and having to go find a medic. Gaining him another eye roll.

[captain-mj]

Bad dog

Been a while since I did something with muzzles and had an idea

Ghost had come back from a very successful mission, the captured creature had been locked away and catalogued. Another win for him and the fucking scientists.

He lit a cigarette and watched the... things in their rooms and cells. The scientists assured them that none were human, but he wasn't sure he completely believed them. Some were very good at mimicking people.

His personal favorite was A21987028. Or Soap. Scientists liked spouting off that long string of numbers, but Ghost preferred the nickname given. It was like how the dog like creature in cell 483 was named "Riley" because of the collar it had on when it was found. And while yes, she was a little maneater, Ghost still snuck her biscuits and things to eat and she liked him better.

Soap was interesting. Brimming with intelligence, perfectly mimicking a Scottish man, and friendly.

Ghost went to his room and sat with him, likely he usually did. He sat across from him and Soap perked up. The brown leather across his face was the only grim reminder of what he was. Otherwise, he looked normal. Even his clothes were nice, of the latest fashion.

"Hello, Simon." Soap said with a smile, teeth flashing under the brown leather. Same one Riley wore. Same one everything in this building wore but the guards. "Come to chat?"

Ghost shifted, legs spreading to fill out the chair. He looked at Soap. "Another mission. Caught a thing that looks like a mix between a raccoon and a sparrow. Its wings are too small to fly."

"How did you catch it?"

Ghost had speared it like a fish and held it down, blade causing yellow blood to gush out until it had the good sense to stop fighting. He had thrown it in the cage and heard the useless wing snap.

"Used one of those loops on the poles. It hooked around it's neck and i dropped it in the cage. No harm, no foul."

Soap nodded and walked over. There were strict rules on most of the creatures, but Soap was different. Intelligent enough to know that fighting back was futile. Friendly enough to be able to play nice. In the fifteen years there, he had never once caused an incident.

The muzzle stayed, so did the chains around his ankles, but his hands were freed. His room decorated. Books were given to him. A tv. He had plenty of enmities.

Ghost still felt guilty. If he could, he'd let Soap leave. But Soap was not truly Soap. He was A21987028. A thing that had appeared out of the sky and ate flesh.

For now though, it wasn't feeding time. Ghost could be here, with him. In this space.

Soap leaned down and brushed the muzzle against Ghost's mask. Like an animal.

"Simon. Do they listen to our conversations?"

"Don't necessarily listen, but they do record them. If there was ever a need, they'd review them. But you won't do that. You're a good boy." Ghost meant it as a joke. A fucked up version of one, but a joke.

Soap looked at him, that brilliant blue was wrong. It happened occasionally. Soap wouldn't look like Soap. He'd look like someone or something else. Usually they were so subtle, Ghost would be unsure if they really even happened.

"Shame. Sometimes, I want to tell you things. Tell you secrets. But I can't. Things listen."

Ghost had no doubts in his mind that Soap didn't mean the microphones.

"I apologize, Soap. Lights out soon, I'm on night duty."

"Will you come say hi to me as you pass?" That wasn't what Soap really wanted. He wanted Ghost to sneak him food.

“Maybe.” Ghost smiled at him.

Soap brightened considerably. “I’ll wait for you.” He smiled and went around the room, a sway to it.

Ghost left, as always, wondering what Soap would feel like if they could touch without his gloves between them. He’d show Soap the sun. The moon.

Instead, he had to have a picture of them on the wall.

Ghost thought of the dozens of documentaries over space and human history and war. Soap requested to have a documentary over bombs, but they denied him immediately.

He'd do wonders in the human world. But it wasn't human. It was hard to remember that at times.

Ghost made sure before he went back by Soap that he had a candy bar to slip into his cell. A candy bar that was grabbed by a hand with too many fingers.

"Simon?"

"Yes, Soap?"

Soap looked at him, eyes glowing enough so Ghost would surely see him. "I appreciate the time we spend we spend together."

Ghost smiled at him and he could tell, despite the mask, that Soap could see. He pulled away and kept walking through the yard. Creatures tried to get his attention. All hoping that he'll be the one to slip up and let them free.

The night ended like all nights ended. With him turning into his own bed in a different barracks. With Simon laying down and remembering that he's doing good for the world.

He couldn't have been asleep long when the alarms went off. He assumed it was Protocol L at first, a common break they had was that particular one. But then he heard the numbers that followed and realized more than just one had escaped. He grabbed his gun and checked his gear, happy he hadn't taken much of it off, and got out the door.

Ghost put the majority of the creatures back in their cages, safe and sound. Most were intimidated by him, despite being able to grow much bigger than him.

Then his gun came face to face with Soap.

The muzzle was still securely on, but the chains had been broken. "Simon. Don't make me hurt you."

"Think you have the nerve?"

"Come with me. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere just the two of us." Soap grabbed his hand and moved closer. "I promise, I'm really not like the others. I don't want to hurt you.""

Ghost put his gun under Soap's chin. They had about five minutes to leave. "How can I trust it? How do I know you weren't playing the long con?"

"You know me. You love me. i love you. Let's go." Soap squeezed his hand tight. "Please. I want to see the world. See everything."

Ghost squeezed his hand back and made a decision.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Sexual situations, Threesomes/Throuples, Dominant Ghost, Submissive König, Submissive Reader, Gentle Ghost, Caring Ghost, Ghost aftercare, Ghost expressing emotions/feelings, TW: Spanking (briefly), TW: Pet play, TW: Restraints (leash and handcuffs), TW: Sex denial (initially), TW: Double penetration, TW: Rough sex

Okay, I want to give a big big thank you to all of my readers for sticking with me this long. Y'all are my squad and I love you all. To quote my own story lol, "I'll always have your six". Seeya in Ending 3! *finger guns*

(Also, while there are sad moments in part 3, it literally has one of my favorite happy endings in this series. It may taste bitter at first, but don't let that put you off pls 😭 I PROMISE it ends so sweet!)

Reader POV:

The rest of the evening went off wonderfully. After a few more rounds, everyone was either too drunk to continue or had grown bored with the game altogether. So, for the rest of the night, the group had dispersed. Some had gathered to chat at the bar, and some had ventured outside to smoke. But you had been more than happy to just dance the night away. You had danced until your feet were sore! But now that you were back at the barracks, you were an entirely different kind of sore.

You yelped as Ghost’s leather belt smacked your bare ass, gritting your teeth through the burning sensation it left behind. He had you kneeling on his bed, face buried in the pillows to muffle your cries as he met out your punishment. But as the belt continued to rain down, the pillows were proving to be an ineffective solution. Another strike landed, and you groaned in pain.

"I thought I told you to count!" Ghost snarled, sending another fiery sting across your ass quickly after.

"I can't, sir!" You gasped, whimpering at the next impact. "I lost track, I'm sorry!"

He struck you one more time for good measure before throwing his belt across the room. There was a potent darkness in his eyes as he stood there fuming. The fury rolled off him in waves, and you shrank back as his glare pinned you where you lay.

"I told you to behave tonight,” he spat, venom dripping from each word. “But no. You just had to cozy up to the captain, didn’t you? You still think it was a good idea to make out with Price in front of me? You think I enjoyed seeing you sitting in his lap making him feel good?"

“But you didn’t tell me no!” you yelled back before you could think better of it. “You said it was my choice!”

Ghost lunged forward, his hand grabbing the back of your neck as he knelt over you. “You should have known better, princess. Thought I trained you better than that.”

"I’m sorry, sir," you hissed when his hand grabbed your ass, firmly massaging the tender and reddened skin. "I misbehaved and I’m sorry!"

“Good,” Ghost growled, the sound rumbling through his chest like rolling thunder. But with a huff, he let you go. "It wasn't completely your fault, though. Because someone encouraged you to act out. Isn't that right?"

He turned towards König, giving him a withering glare. König blanched at the sight, quickly looking down at the floor. Goosebumps dotted his skin as he shivered, desperate to hide from the seething specter before him. Clothing would have helped a bit, but Ghost ensured neither of you had that privilege. As soon you had entered his room, Ghost had commanded both of you to strip down. You had been directed straight to the bed. But he clearly had other plans to deal with König once he was through with you. So König sat there kneeling at the foot of the bed, cowering under Ghost’s stern presence. He whimpered, tugging against his restraints. A chain leash was hooked to the center loop of his collar before the rest of it wound around the leg of the bed frame. And though he continued to struggle, having his hands cuffed behind his back made the effort even more useless. There was no escape and he knew it. Ghost wanted him to see you punished with first. He wanted the anticipation or dread to fill König’s mind as he was forced to wait his turn.

"Yes, sir," König whispered in a small, pitiful voice. "It was my idea and I'll accept my punishment."

König’s eyes darted across the room, lingering on where the belt had landed on the floor. After seeing how ruthless Ghost could be with it, he shivered at the thought of taking your place. It was a shiver of both fear and anticipation, but a shiver nonetheless. But as Ghost followed his gaze.

“Oh, no. I’m not gonna spank you,” Ghost smirked, slowly pulling his shirt over his head. “I know you. You’d enjoy that a bit too much.”

Ghost kept his eyes on König as he eased his pants down his thighs. His boxers quickly followed, both unceremoniously kicked to the floor. König’s eyes zeroed in on Ghost’s crotch. His breathing had gone shallow and his eyes were half-lidded with longing. And Ghost let him stare as he stroked his length, taunting him a bit.

“You like what you see, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, sir,” König gasped, letting out a needy whimper. “Bitte, let me show you how sorry I am. How good I can be.”

"That’s cute. But I don’t think so,” Ghost hissed, turning away to approach the bed instead. “I want you to feel what you made me feel tonight. I want you to know how it feels to have your girl dangled in front of you. To see someone else in your rightful place," he hissed. "Princess, get on your back. I want him to watch."

You obediently rolled over, gasping in pain when the bed sheets made contact with your ass. But Ghost was not in the mood to be patient. He grabbed your ankle, tugging you across the bed to give König full view. He spread your folds open with his fingers, letting your evident excitement drip out onto the bed

"See how wet she is?" Ghost taunted, dipping a finger into your opening before holding it up. "I’m gonna show you how to really make her squirm."

He repeated the motion, this time inserting two fingers and earning a loud gasp as you writhed beneath his hand. But you didn't get very far. With his other hand, he gripped your hip and pressed it down into the bed to keep you in place.

"You gotta hold her still sometimes," he chuckled, probing your clit with his thumb before withdrawing his hand. "Can't have her getting away before the fun starts, can we?"

"No, sir," König whined, staring longingly at the display. His cock twitched in his lap, betraying his growing desire to take Ghost’s place.

"When she’s nice and wet like that," Ghost smirked, giving himself a few firm strokes before lining up at your entrance. "She'll take you balls deep in a heartbeat."

With a growl, Ghost snapped his hips forward and buried himself within your throbbing core. You moaned loudly as he filled you. The sensation of his length settling against your cervix made your back arch sharply as you let out a needy whimper. But there was no time to catch your breath. Ghost jumped straight into a frantic pace, his hips slamming against yours as he fucked you into the mattress. This wasn't for pleasure. This was for show. This was to make a point.

"See what fun you could be having?" Ghost panted, ramming himself into your slick core. "I bet you wanna feel her tight little cunt around your cock right now, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," König moaned, his erection straining in his lap. "Please."

"Too bad. I guess you'll just have to watch me make her cum."

"Oh, fuck!" You whined, every thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You could hear König whimpering across the room, but Ghost was making it incredibly hard to focus on anything but what he was doing to your body. "Oh, god!"

"Just like that," Ghost murmured, slipping a hand around your throat. "See? This is how she wants to be handled. She wants to be put in her fucking place. Gotta make her take it."

The way Ghost talked about you like you weren’t even there. The way he used you like a tool, like a teaching aid? It sent your mind straight to the most depraved places. Subspace quickly kicked in and you happily surrendered to the raw pleasure he sent coursing through your body. It was addicting. And it felt so good.

You let out a gasped whimper and your walls quivered around his length with every thrust. But Ghost was accustomed to your unspoken signals. He knew you were getting close to your release. In response, he kicked his pace up a notch.

“When she twitches like that,” he moaned to König, his voice tightening as he continued his speech. “When you feel her cunt grabbing at your cock? You tell her to cum for you. You make her cum for you. Whisper some naughty words in her ear and she’ll fold. Isn’t that right, princess? You like being called a fucking whore while I fuck the shit outta you?”

You tried to say “yes, sir”. You opened your mouth to form the words. But when you did, all that came out was a stream of incoherent sounds as your climax tore through you. All you could do was clutch the bedsheets and whimper as your body seized up. The sound of Ghost moaning through gritted teeth blended with your own sounds of pleasure as he rode it out with you. He hadn’t finished with you, but he could not deny himself the reward of increased tightness as you clamped down around him. König let out a gasped moan as he watched you writhe through your orgasm. His eyes burned with envy and hunger. And with a whimper, he glanced down at his lap. Pre-cum was streaming down his erection and pooling beneath him. It was a humiliating sight and he knew it. But there was nothing he could do to remedy it. His body trembled with desire as he watched your climax gradually begin to fade.

After the last wave trembled through your form, you sank back onto the bed with a breathy sigh and Ghost pulled out. You didn’t have the energy to even lift your head, but you still turned to watch as Ghost climbed back off the bed. He sauntered over to where König sat, chest heaving. The chain of his leash was pulled taught from him crawling as close to you as it would allow. His eyes were wild behind his hood and his chest heaved with need. But Ghost wasn't planning on releasing him just yet. He was enjoying teasing him and making him bear through the agonizing wait.

"Look at you all chained up like a fucking dog," he spat, crouching down to put his face in his. "You look hungry. I bet you want a little treat, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," he gasped, giving the leash another futile tug. “Bitte, untie me. Please.”

"Untie you? No, I said you’ve earned a treat. So I'll give you a fucking treat."

Ghost grabbed the bottom of König’s hood, tying it back to uncover the lower half of his face. Once satisfied, he seized his cock in his hand and slowly stroked himself. It was still hard and liberally coated in your juices. He gave König a commanding stare as he looked down at him from above, slowly rubbing himself against König’s lips.

"Clean me off."

König quickly parted his lips, willing to do anything if it meant he could join you on the bed. He relaxed his jaw, allowing Ghost to shove himself into his mouth. He let out a choked gag, recoiling when Ghost nudged the back of his throat. But he quickly adapted, choosing to take half of him into his mouth before licking the rest of his length clean.

"Good boy," Ghost purred, fisting his hand in the fabric of his hood. "Still room to improve, but I'll allow it for now."

König moaned, your taste driving him wild as he obediently served his master. He had Ghost’s rapt attention as his tongue moved over his member, occasionally earning a gasp of pleasure. Once Ghost was satisfied with his work, he reached down and released the leash with a click. As soon as the leash fell limp against the floor, König didn’t even wait for his hands to be freed before scrambling towards the bed. Towards you. But Ghost grabbed his arm and shoved him right back down to the floor.

"Sit," he barked, pointing at the floor before climbing back on the bed. "Stay. I didn't say you could move just yet."

The sound that came out of König’s mouth was a strange combination of a whimper and a sob. You could see his erection throbbing, clearly demanding immediate attention. A steady stream of anticipation dripped onto the floor with every move he made. But Ghost paid the display no mind. He gave König a smug chuckle before returning to the bed, settling with his back against the wall. And holding his gaze, he tugged you between his legs. Ghost hooked your calves over his thighs, ensuring König had a perfect view of your swollen sex. Then, keeping steady eye contact with him, Ghost began drawing slow circles around your clit. You gasped, legs trembling at the focused stimulation.

"Oh my. I don't think she doesn't want me to stop, König. Looks like you'll have to wait a while longer," Ghost chuckled, gradually increasing his pace. "I wonder just how many times I can make her cum. Don't you?"

A steady stream of pleas poured out of König’s mouth as he looked on. He knew that if he moved towards the bed even an inch, Ghost would draw this out even longer. His whole body trembled as he fought to restrain himself, eyes locked on the movements of Ghost’s hand. As he continued to work at your clit, Ghost slipped another finger into your depths. He curved it slightly upwards to hit the most toe-curling location inside you. You let out a low moan, instinctively bucking your hips. You were well beyond overstimulation and he knew it. And as you shuddered in his hold, you knew there was no escaping the pleasure he was determined to give you.

You threw your head back against Ghost’s shoulder, unable to stop the next orgasm that crested over your body. But it wasn’t just one. As Ghost continued to increase his pace, you could only whimper loudly as three orgasms hit you in rapid succession. You cried out, arching in his arms as the last climax swept you away. With it came a sudden spray of liquid from your open folds. And the sight made both men moan with desire.

“Good girl,” Ghost purred, stroking your hair before resuming his pace. “Bet you didn’t know she was a squirter, huh König?”

König wasn’t speaking anymore. He couldn’t. All he could do was bite his quivering lip and clench his jaw, low whimpers coming out in rough pants. His arousal was bordering on pain and lust fully clouded his mind. He couldn’t think. The only thing on his mind was making you do that for him. He subconsciously bucked his hips like a dog in heat, whimpering at the lack of friction he desperately craved.

Finally, Ghost decided to be merciful and end his torture. He didn’t look up, but he gave him a single crook of his finger. "Come, I think you've learned your lesson."

König wasted no time scrambling onto the bed. Though Ghost produced a key and set about unfastening his handcuffs, König was driven mad with desperation. He couldn’t wait any longer. Your breath hitched as König pushed into your opening, moaning wildly at your delicious warmth. As soon as his hands were free, they seized your hips in a bruising grip. He tugged you forward to meet his rapid thrusts, hot breath washing over you as he panted in your ear.

But Ghost’s hands were on you too. He maintained a firm grip on your thighs, holding you securely between his legs and keeping you sufficiently spread for König. He tugged your legs open even wider and König increased his pace with a tense moan. Every buck of his hips pressed you back against Ghost’s chest. Apparently, a period of denial brought out his animalistic side. Because König was practically feral. His movements were forceful and frantic. And the breathy growls that he was making were like music to your ears.

“Oh fuck ,” König hissed, burying his face in your neck. “I need- I- Oh Mein Gott, yes.”

Every snap of his hips sends pleasant tremors through your body. And the sight was clearly having an impact on Ghost. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against your back. You could feel his own erection firmly pressed against your ass. Every move König made created the most tantalizing friction for him too. The two men groaned uncontrollable as they clutched you between them, writhing together in pure pleasure.

König growled loudly, throwing his head back and quickly losing himself in your wetness. “Oh god, I’m- Shit, I’m close. P-please.”

You whimper as a spasm rolls through your body. And you can hear König cry out at the sudden tightness. His thrusts were getting rougher. He wasn’t lying. He was dangerously close to his own climax. You could feel it. You could hear it. And he wasn’t slowing down.

“Don’t you dare finish,” Ghost growled, grabbing König by his collar and twisting. “Quit moving and be still.”

“Please,” König lets out a strangled moan of desperation. “Please don’t- Don’t make me stop again.”

You can feel him twitching within you and his whole body trembles, but he obeys. His voice breaks as he continues to beg. Ghost had taken this mountain of a man and quickly turned him into putty in his skillful hands. He wielded the power to give him the most powerful pleasure, but he could also take it away at any moment. You’d never seen König beg like this before. Voice shaking and raw. But Ghost would not give in. Not yet.

“Hold on to her and lift her off me,” Ghost growled, shifting behind you. “Don’t pull out. Just do as I say.”

“Y-yes, sir,” König pants.

He hooks his arms under your knees, lifting you with him as he rose up onto his knees. You can see the unfiltered need in his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours. In an effort not to add to his torment, you try to fight the tremors that ripple through your core. But after so much stimulation and no time to come back down, your body was running on autopilot. König squeezed his eyes shut with a gritted hiss as your body continued to squeeze at him.

“P-please hurry,” he sobbed, moaning desperately. His arms began to shake. “I can’t. It’s too much.”

“Okay, set her back down,” Ghost murmured from behind, placing a supportive hand on your hip. “Nice and slow.”

As König gently lowered you back onto Ghost’s lap, you let out a startled gasp of surprise. You could feel your entrance suddenly stretching impossibly wide as Ghost began slowly forcing himself inside you alongside König’s length. Overwhelmed by the excruciating tightness, Ghost grabbed your hips and continued to ease you down into his lap. And as his cock gradually pushed up into you, both you and König moan in bliss. But the fullness was almost too much. You almost tell Ghost to stop before you remember your manners and choose your words as carefully as you could manage.

“Ghost! Ah! Ghost, please!”

“That’s my girl,” he shushed you, not halting his determined progression but moving as slowly as he was able. “You can take us, can’t you? Nice and slow.”

You chest heaved, shrill whines coming out of your mouth as he finally bottomed out. Your lower stomach bulged outwards ever so slightly and your sex throbbed as you tried to adjust. Thankfully, neither of them moved right away. But you could tell they desperately wanted to. The frantic rise and fall of their chests pressed in on you from both sides as they panted, overcome with lust and desire. Ghost’s fingers gripped your hips, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to restrain himself. As for König, he was lost in another world entirely. His eyes were unfocused, the skin around them tight.

“Fuck!” he rasped. “Fuck, Maus! Shit!”

“Princess,” Ghost groaned from behind, his body trembling in anticipation. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t know how long I can hold out like this.”

You screwed your eyes shut, trying hard to let your body relax and accept the two massive objects lodged deep within you. After a few more shuddered breaths, you buried your face in König’s neck and clutched his shoulders for support.

When you finally nodded, the response was instant. Ghost growled through gritted teeth as he reared back and started ramming his length into your opening. König moved too, snapping his hips forward at an animalistic pace. The increased tightness, the increased wetness, the added friction from sharing the cramped space. The powerful sensations overtook them both. You’d never been claimed so roughly before. Here, squeezed between twin walls of muscle. Between two sex-crazed demons determined to bury their seed deeper than the other could reach. They sparred ruthlessly inside you and all you could do was cling to König for dear life as they pummeled you with reckless abandon.

The sensations were intense for you too. You didn’t know how an orgasm would feel with two massive cocks crammed inside you. But you didn’t have to wait long to find out. The familiar tendrils of pure bliss were wrapping around your mind. Heat pooled deep in your stomach, threatening to spill over and take you with it.

“Ghost!” You whimpered loudly. “Ghost, please! I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum! Oh God! Oh my god!”

“You just called me ‘Ghost’. That’s twice tonight,” he groaned.

He might have been a slave to his desire, but he still had the presence of mind to enforce his rules. You screamed loudly as his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pressure didn’t break the skin, but the unexpected pain was delicious.

“Not yet,” he panted, increasing his pace. “Just a little longer, princess. You can wait for me, right?”

“Fuck!” you gasped as a particularly firm thrust buried itself against your cervix. Your whole body shivered as your climax tried to pull you under. But you fought it, trying to hold out.

König had his head thrown back, spewing choked strings of incoherent German. His voice was urgent, desperate, and raw. As his thrusts began to grow jerky, you know he was in the same position that you were. But Ghost wasn’t ready to let either of you go. Not yet.

With an impatient growl, Ghost hoisted you up higher. König instinctively responded, taking hold of your ass to lift you off Ghost’s lap. Ghost re-entered you roughly, thrusting into you at a new angle. The new angle really allowed him to lose himself to his pace, driving himself as deep into you as space would allow. König bore the brunt of each impact, struggling to keep you upright while fighting off his own climax as Ghost pounded into you from behind. Every thrust sent your body rocking forward against König. But he reacted, staggering his own pace so that he’d push you right back each time he did.

Ghost’s growls became ragged and his thrusts more direct. And König wasn’t even mentally present anymore. Rough growls of broken German filled your ears as he gripped you tightly, bucking up into you with renewed ferocity.

“Come for me,” Ghost gasped, yanking your head back by your hair. “Come for me, princess.”

The room erupted in vulgar sounds of pleasure as the three of you weathered your releases together. Your walls tried to constrict, but they were already stretched to their limit. Your body resorted to sharp twitches that flickered through your core. Your nails left trails of fire down König’s back as you scrambled for anything to hold onto. And as you did, a flood of hot liquid gushed within you as both König and Ghost spilled their seed into your battered core. There was so much of it. Too much to contain. You could feel it almost instantly overflowing and dripping down your thighs as they continued to force even more into your trembling depths.

As you came back down from your high, you gasped for breath. Ghost shuddered behind you, whispering comforting words as he kissed along your shoulder. König still couldn’t speak. He lay slumped against you with his head on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath. You could feel drops of moisture fall against your shoulder and trail down your arm as he softly wept, overwhelmed by the sheer heights his pleasure had taken him. You shushed him, rubbing his back and whispering words of love in his ear.

“I love you,” you whimpered.

“I-I love you too, Maus,” König whispered, gradually beginning to calm.

“We love you too, Ghost,” you said, rubbing his thigh affectionately.

“Mmmm,” he murmured against your shoulder, reaching around to interlace his fingers in König’s. “I know. Me too. Everyone okay? Did I go too far with you?”

König sat up, still sniffling a bit. But you could tell by his eyes that there was a tired smile on his face. “No,” he whispered. “You were perfect. This was perfect.”

Ghost cradled his face in his hands, stroking the soft fabric of his veil before planting a tender kiss on his forehead. König still held onto his hand and Ghost was more than happy let the gesture continue. But he still wanted to check on you.

He turned your face towards his, gently brushing your curls away from your eyes. His gaze scanned you, carefully searching for any signs of pain or discomfort. “You alright, princess?”

“Yes,” you nodded, leaning into his touch. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise. I trust you.”

“I don’t take trust lightly,” he said. He trailed his thumb along your cheek lovingly. “And the fact that you think I’ve earned yours is a high honor. That goes for both of you.”

After he was certain both of you had emerged unscathed, Ghost carefully lifted you off his lap. You hissed as they both pulled out, every part of your body at its peak of sensitivity. But the blissful calm returned when Ghost laid back against the pillows and tugged both of you against his chest. He laid there with a contented sigh, one of you tucked under each arm.

Ghost just laid there, gazing at you both snuggled against his chest. For a moment, he looked away and shifted uncomfortably. But when he lifted his gaze again, his eyes were uncharacteristically tender and the slightest bit emotional.

“I-I’m not great with… feelings. Words like ‘love’ or ‘soulmate’ just feel weird coming out of my mouth,” he huffed, chuckling at himself. “But I never want their lack of use to make you feel any less important to me. All I can say is that no one has ever made me feel this way before and I know that no one else ever will. Both of you drive me crazy, but in a good way. The best way. So, uh, I’ll always have your six, okay? You need anything - I don’t care what it is, what time you come knocking, or what I’m doing - you come to me, alright? And I’ll make it right, I promise.”

“Ghost?” König began, voice timid and hesitant.

“Yeah, precious?’

The pet name rolled off Ghost’s tongue effortlessly, without a thought. The way he said it so easily made you suspect it was an endearing term he’d used for König but only in his mind. This was just the first time he’d spoken it out loud. Though Ghost didn’t react, König blushed cutely at the unexpected nickname.

“I was j-just going to ask if we could, um. If we could stay here tonight?” He shifted his weight, tangling his legs in Ghost’s. “I don’t want to leave.”

Ghost chuckled, pulling you both closer and tugging the blankets over the three of you. “I don’t see why not. I think I could get used to this.”

You looked up at them both. Your angel and your demon. Your yin and your yang. Your light and your darkness. You needed them both and they needed you. And though they each completed you in their own way alone, you couldn't deny that you would never feel truly complete with them both by your side. Lying here with them, you felt whole in a way you never imagined possible. With a soft smile, you snuggled into the warmth of his embrace.

“I think I already am.”

[youalreadyhavefullresults]

the mindset journey

So hi.

My mindset has been evolving a lot ever since I started this journey, and I thought I'd lay it all out in one post. Subliminals, mindless affirming, scripting, visualization, states. I've tried so many things out, and I think I've finally figured out what works for me.

TLDR:

Stop “trying” to manifest or checking the 3d, you already have full results, creation was over like since forever.

Sure you know that you’re God, as the posts and everything you’ve seen tells you, but have you really embraced that internally?

It doesn’t matter how many posts you read, it’s up to you to actually change your mindset.

Logic is literally useless, be delusional (don’t you just wanna go ape-shit :), go get your fucking desires)

Time is not linear, and means nothing when manifesting.

Revision is so powerful, use it.

It’s just so easy guys, please just make sure you’re actually applying the information you see instead of just passively scrolling through.

And the rest is under the cut, happy reading <33

I started off in the subliminal community in Oct 2020 and just had so many limiting beliefs, it was sad. Not to shit on the community or anything, some of them are wonderful people and most of them have changed their mindset as well, but my initial knowledge prevented me from getting to this point until now. But, now I’m here, and a day after I wrote this in my drafts, I literally manifested my ideal life. I originally started this blog to collect advice from loa blogs, but honestly, I don’t need any of it anymore. Though I do like helping people, so if you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask.

The Initial Mindset:

I always read through countless posts that say “You’re God” and “You literally can get what you want without even trying.” While I understood the text and adopted the mindset, I still did little subconscious things that contradicted it. While I affirmed my self-concept was perfect, I would also cram-study for exams and worry I would fail. I would say I look perfect, but then also worry about the way my body looked. Also, the way that I literally became obsessed with loa media? I spent hours watching Sammy Ingram videos, looping subliminals, and reading tumblr posts on “how to manifest faster and better”. During this phase of my life, my mind was plagued with intrusive thoughts and my self-concept was slowly getting better, but still absolute shit. I would manifest things here and there, but nothing life-changing.

The main problem however, was the fact that I would treat manifesting like a task I HAD to do. Now that school was back in session, I literally would zone out during specific classes on purpose and just affirm to myself. I would feel bad if I hadn’t listened to my subliminal playlist for the day because I “wasted time in getting my desires”. There’s nothing wrong with vainly affirming or listening to subs if you believe it works, but for me, treating manifesting like a task meant that I was looking for an outcome. Clearly, now I know better, that everything is always done and that there’s nothing to complete, but back then, this was probably the main reason why I struggled to see full results easily. I was acting out of desperation and didn't believe manifestation already was done.

When Everything Changed:

I know that it’s different for everyone, but my “aha!” moment was probably when I read this post. Seriously, go read it, it made me realize that I was going about it all wrong. Now, it wasn’t learning how to perfect my manifesting, it was learning to pull out the tiny limiting beliefs that had burrowed its way into my subconscious.

For example,

“I need to do xyz so that I can get my manifestations.”

Why would I would need to do anything if I already have all of my manifestations hmm? It’s literally already done. Like there’s no need to put in that effort into something that’s already perfect right? So why do I need to even need to try? I literally get whatever tf I want without even trying. This doesn’t mean that every method out there is useless, but in the end, you are the one doing the manifesting, not the method.

“But... this makes absolutely no logical sense! How would this even work?”

I know that STEM me loves finding the logic behind everything, so that’s why I struggled a lot with the logic and time aspect. But darling, it doesn’t need to make sense. There are literally so many things in the world that scientists to this day can’t explain, including just how powerful and complex your brain is. Not to mention the fact that concepts such as logic and science are literally man-made too? What’s the point in trying to deal with logic? Just let go and have fun.

“I affirmed so hard, and I believed it. But then it never showed up when the time came.”

First off, your time spent affirming means nothing, sorry to break it to you. It’s about the mindset(your state if you will) you currently exist in that truly makes a difference. And just because it didn’t show up today doesn’t mean that you missed your window of opportunity. Revision is still manifesting, because time is not a linear concept. Anything at any time can just change with a snap of your fingers. You want to change all of your test scores? Bam, it’s done. you wish WW2 never happened? Bam, it’s done. You want to relive the past 5 years of your life? Bam, it’s done. It doesn’t matter what the event is, what time it is, or that you “didn’t do it before the deadline”. Whenever you do get it(which is instant/soon if you're persisting properly), it will be there, seamlessly blended in with your 3d. You don’t need to worry about a damn thing, your subconscious will take care of everything for you.

“Oh no! I just had intrusive thoughts, did I just mess up my manifestations?”

Why are you giving intrusive thoughts the power to do anything? Sure, you may get them, but that doesn’t mean that they have any effect on you. It’s the doubt they make you feel in your mindset that truly messes it up. Don’t give in. Acknowledge the thought, accept that it literally means nothing, and continue to persist. Your thoughts only have the power you give them.

“Nah, everyone has to be lying, this doesn’t seem real.” / ”Manifesting must just be a coincidence, there’s no way this is real.”

Oh? So you’re saying, the amount of posts you’ve seen, all of the success stories, all of the followers and comments, are you saying every single one of them is lying? No. I’m not saying that every single one of them is truthful, but there’s no way that every single one of them would lie and put this much work into something that’s not real. If you find yourself struggling to believe in the law, I’d suggest you try to manifest something small, and then build up your belief from there. I sure as hell didn’t believe in any of this from the beginning, but then, I manifested consciously for the first time. Again, and again. It became easier, and my life got better. It soon becomes apparent that literally everything you think happens. I always used to wonder how things I randomly thought in the back of my head always happened even though I literally didn’t do anything about it in the 3d. This proved to me that your mental state is more powerful than it seems.

“Can I manifest-”

Yes. Just yes. You’re GOD. GOD. Why tf is God asking some random loa account if they can manifest something or not? Ofc God would know that they can manifest whatever the fuck they want instantly. Do you think when God said “Let there be light”, he first asked people around him if he could? No. He took that shit and just fucking ran with it.

“But-but, what if-”

Uh-uh. I don’t want to fucking hear it. Like I said in the previous section, stop overthinking everything you do. Just go. Run with what you already know and manifest the life of your dreams. You don’t need to keep looking for new information, some specific post that changes everything for you. All they can do for you is steer you in the right direction. You’re the one who’s going to have to figure out our mindset and pull yourself together, no one else can do it. Take back your power, embrace it. I don’t care if you unfollow every single loa account or delete tumblr, just stop looking for the next post. Why would you need more information when you already have everything you need?

I wrote down everything I struggled with, forgot about it, and continued to persist in my new mindset. I ignored any negative 3d circumstances, and just vibed in the feeling that my desires were already here, that feeling of contentment someone has when everything in their life is just amazing. The main question I asked myself was, what would a person who had ____ think, and I went from there. Soon the things I wanted just started popping up in my life, just as I knew it would. I feel like the things I’ve said in this post are pretty much the same concepts you see all over loa tumblr, which is why it’s so important that you actively take in the information that’s being given to you and actually apply it. I was obsessed with tumblr and kept on scrolling through countless blogs and posts, and I was only able to fully manifest after I stepped away from all of that. There is no big secret. There’s no miraculous method that will fix everything for you. There’s just... you. And your subconscious. Whatever you tell your subconscious, goes. As simple as that.

How about, instead of scrolling to whatever next loa post you were about to see on this app, you close tumblr and just go live your best life? Don’t overcomplicate it and just do whatever feels natural to you. I hope this post helped, happy manifesting!

-cinna

[sandstormjoneshusband]

follow up to the bad driving post from yesterday. explanations under cut also feel free to argue with me lol

So basically top left = characters who drive badly but not in a way that will cause a crash, top right = characters who are actually all things considered good at driving, bottom left = characters who should not be behind the wheel ever, bottom right = characters who are good drivers in theory/most of the time, but certain factors can make them become car crash material.

Dalv: In my mind, Dalv is the most cautious and safe driver ever, to the point where he loops back around to being a shit driver. You do not want to get stuck in a lane behind this guy he will not go even CLOSE to the speed limit. He will probably let you through when he has right of way. etc etc. Ig on the bright side he doesnt get into enough situations where a car crash could really occur? yay?

El Bailador: Kind of guy who drives windows down music blaring probably speeding slightly at all times but somehow has never had anything bad happen to him. he is being protected by higher powers because he is sooooooo nice and cool :)

Ace: Ridicules all his friends for being bad drivers then actually gets behind the wheel and he sucks almost as bad. Yk, given how his whole thing in the Wild East is facepalming at the five's antics while arguably being worse than a lot of them in that regard. Why are you encouraging a child to gamble. Why are you tormenting blackjack with mooch. Whats his problem

Edward: Okay I didnt really know where to put Ed.. Hes in a weird situation where,, i think his biggest problem would be finding a car thats actually suited to him. Like how he wants to play the guitar but his hands are too big to actually play any of the ones they have. After that though, I think he'd be pretty good, at least decent! He does have some anger issues to deal with (beat up blembino that one time lol) that could cause problems but hes working on it :)

Moray: Pretty self explanatory. The most normal feisty five member. Probably their designated driver 90% of the time. The only reason theyre not completely top is bc their one weakness is whilst they ARE the voice of reason, they do ultimately go along w the group most of the time even if they feel whats happening is wrong. Maybe picks up on the five's bad habits a bit? Overall still a trustworthy pick for driver i think.

Flowey: Ok.do not take this too seriously..............Ik he doesnt have feet for th pedals but consider. Its funny. He can use his vines trust me (also even if he cant physically drive i feel like he'd have a really good understanding of driving. guy who has read every book is bound to have useless knowledge on topics that arent at all relevant to him. and you cant crash the car if youre not driving i guess!!!!!!!!!! but also. funny.)

Ceroba: Similar case as Ed. Actually good at driving but holy fuck the road rage. I feel she'd be worse at responding to it than him bc she has so little self respect. very "I will kill us both😳" attitude abt tailgating and shit like that. Usually better at keeping it in when shes driving with someone else.

Martlet: Maybe she should be furthest down bc she is the only one to canonically crash a vehicle…, Idk I feel like she’d be sliiiightly better w a car where her focus has to be constantly checked, she cant get distracted while filling in questionnaires with clover if she’s driving. That being said she is still. Yeah.

Mooch: similar to mart. Just cannot see her being a good driver. Sorry girl </3

Starlo: starlo.

Axis: faceplanted right in the center bc hes a wild card to me. Would he have insufferable road rage? Would he actually be pretty chill and responsible? Can he even drive if his foot is a singular wheel? Who knows.

[pressplay-if]

F*ck yes i loved that new update, loved basically everything about it, especially how the characters throw in how the mc is percieved....i love it.

I have to things i wanna say tho, nothing bad promise :) I get some things that are set with the mc, but there are some things that just kinda bother me(subjectively speaking here of course)

1: But why does mc not have a drivers license for instance, i get that poor mc would maybe not have had the funds for it, but a rich one had, and i imagine that the parents would have insisted they do one so that they can drive to important meetings to get a real job etc. yk what i mean?

2: So mc can only do vocals and sucks at everything else...feels kinda like mc is suuuper useless, like a magicarp that couldn't even perform splash, or a bird without wings etc. like i get that mc is more focused on singing and vocals but i would say that it would only make sense that mc can at least play one instrument(like many real artists/musicians do) so that when they are stuck in a loop maybe they can distract themself or smth yk to get back on the grind etc.?

Also wouldn't this mean, that if mc got sick and maybe lost their voice for a time or completely they would be even more useless....like a stone that wants to fly. And i don't mean to be rude here or something cause i genuinely like this game and the characters, but mc feels soo limited yk, and i know we still have only seen a little about mc but i would say that we should at least have one more hobby or smth.

Of course this is only my subjective opinion and please don't feel pressured to change anything, cause this is your story and you can do whatever you want with it, i just thought that i could give my two cents to it. Anyways have a good day and stay hydrated.

Heyooo ok so you really picked apart the MC lol but I totally laughed at how you described that 😂 a stone trying to fly

MC can actually drive, they just don't own a vehicle. That's because I wanna make a whole big thing about them getting their first own car/motorbike once the cash comes in you know 💖 also, it creates some nice little scenes like the cuddling Angel-option. But don't worry, MC can drive and will drive

MC doesn't like "suck" at everything else. They can play a little rhythm guitar and also they write most of the band's songs, so they're far from useless, even though they may not play another instrument (at the moment; I think I'm gonna add that option). So they're integral to the band, because even when it's Stevie writing the songs, she only ever writes for the MC. MC is very distinctive. It's interesting that you bring up MC losing their voice though bc that may or may not be a plot point later on. MC not really having another hobby is also kind of intentional. They will shift and change, but at this stage, you're playing as a very obsessed little creature. Their only real hobby besides singing rn is collecting vinyls. So I totally get what you're saying and I understand MC feels limited, but rn, that's kind of just how they are. Things may change. Others may not. Chapter 2 will give a lot more insight on MC, and a bunch more choices for y'all to make about them.