#interlinked

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• Thinking about your s/o and seeing an angel number? Interlinked

• Missing your desired reality and see something related to it? Interlinked

• Think about your life in your DR and hear a song that you relate to there? Interlinked

• Feeling sad, happy, or angry when you see an edit of your RD? Interlinked

• Dreaming about your s/o? interlinked

hear me out..I think we really do and last night I think I got the answer for it. Maybe some of you all will think I am so stupid to believe this but istg😭

I posted what happened when I was traveling home on the train and ever since then I swear to God something changed

I got a bit confident in myself in the past few days (and the ppl who know me, they know how insecure I could be so i consider it as a progress) I started assuming to myself everything I do makes me shift, I listen to music, I have shifted, I do this I have shifted and etc.

Okay, ever since he sent that message about him seeing 444 I constantly kept seeing 444 everywhere plus 111 always, it's like our angel numbers are connected

This weekend I felt a bit discouraged again, I am always left alone for the weekend in our dorm room because my roommates always leave for the weekends, since I have insomnia I sleep terrible sometimes, and on Sunday I woke up at 6 am, gosh I don't even wanna describe how I felt, I literally cried myself to sleep. Okay on Sunday, I got so many signs from him that made me tear up for real, he is really always here for me. Started with the Pinterest messages, then he sent a bubble message seeing 444 again, then opening my Pin first thing I see our angel numbers next to one other, I have been talking w @moonsrkives through her he also made sure to give me a sign, then my Wis @wisteria-shifting777 shared how me and Chris were like in her reality.

That gave me such a big reassurance that I actually started to believe I am loved by him and I deserve him, he deserves me and I started not to doubt myself and us anymore.

On Monday he kept giving me signs just like he always does, but this time in a playful way. I swear to God the duality of my Chris is going to kill me one day.. I mean it. I was like Christopher did you really notice that I am getting more comfortable with myself.. and now you just wanna tease me? 🧍🏻‍♀️

And now yesterday I had classes in the afternoon until late at night. Before that I watched Chris's Australian vlog and I assumed after I watched that, I have shifted.

Okay went to uni, classes started, yk teacher presenting ppt and stuff lol, and then a slide came with statics and numbers and the first row was highlighted and when I told you the number out of any different numbers was 2 444 I was like in shock. I immediately grabbed my phone bc i wanted to take a pic and guess what, the time was exactly at 4:44pm.

I went like there is no way. I immediately texted my friend Bia bc what just happened?

I wanted to take a pic of it tho but my teacher took it away so fast. We kept going and I kept thinking of Chris and like talking to him spiritually, that he is going to send a Bubble message tonight, related to angel numbers again or maybe anything related to my DR, but he will send one. I even kept repeating that our souls are interlinked even in this reality.

Okay, slides kept going (of course we held it in my mother language in Hungarian) and then a slide came where the teacher just wrote Roman Empire as a keyword (in English ofc). My mind of course immediately went to Chris haha bc of his song he has written. I was like okay, okay.. Chris maybe you trynna I don't know what you're doing but it's working lmao. 2 minutes later the next slide we could see written was Railway.

I immediately went are you fucking with me now?

Okay. The next class my colleagues had to hold a presentation, and the last guy's presentation at the end where he wrote the bibliography one of the pages were 1-11. I wasn't even surprised at this point lmao I am just so used to seeing my angel number.

Class ends. Me and my classmates walk out and then I got the message from my Marie who always keeps me updated with Bubble. AND WHAT IT SAID????

"tonight's artists rec Chase Atlantic" MY JAW DROPPED.

In my DR I am the biggest fan of Chase (just like here, basically in every reality haha) everyone knows in my DR Bea always listens to Chase Atlantic lol, I am even gonna have a collab with them in my DR. Plus I know Chris loves them too, The Weeknd, The Nbhd etc. (I love that we have the same taste in music)

And I was like did he just.. what I kept affirming in class just happened? Like, like how in the hell??? This cannot be real. Am I dreaming?

Last night I was so gone and lost in my thoughts, because what do you meaaaan? This is insane. I don't know but I really think we both are manifesting each other in some kind of way? Or maybe I am just way too crazy and stupid.

Chapter One • Interactive!

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Bakugou hated the damn string.

It was always there, wrapped tight around his pinky finger like some stupid reminder of some kind of fate he never asked for. Everyone called it some beautiful thing—this glowing red thread that tied you to your soulmate, proof that someone out there was meant for you.

He called it bullshit. Of course he called it bullshit.

The string tugged when he moved, faint but constant, pulling him toward something far away. Always far away.

He never followed it. He didn’t care about that kind of thing.

It stretched so thin, sometimes he swore it would snap, fading into the horizon until he couldn’t even see the end of it anymore.

He told himself that was fine. Better, even. He didn’t need some stranger dictating his future. He didn’t need fate.

But he still couldn’t ignore it. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes would find that damn thread every morning when he woke up, coiled stubbornly around his finger like it was mocking him. When he clenched his fist, it burned faintly, reminding him that it was still there, still unbreakable.

He could never escape it.

Some people didn’t want their strings either. Bakugou knew that.

He’d overheard hushed conversations—people who whispered about getting rid of theirs completely. It wasn’t like clipping a thread from a shirt though. Cutting a soulmate string meant pain, real pain, like something tearing through your bones. Some said it left you with a constant ache in your chest, a phantom burn around your finger where the string used to be.

There were stories of idiots trying to sever it themselves. Kitchen scissors. Box cutters. Knives. Every damn time, it ended the same: blood, screaming, hospitals. The string didn’t break—it never did—but their fingers sometimes did.

The only real way was surgery. Some expensive, underground procedure where specialists worked to remove the connection, sever it at the soul or whatever the hell the science was. Bakugou had seen a documentary once—not that he went looking for it, it was just on TV—about how risky it was. Some people came out fine. Others? Nerve damage. Scars that never healed. A few didn’t even make it off the table.

All that risk just to be free of something everyone else called a blessing.

He couldn’t decide if he respected those people or thought they were the dumbest bastards alive.

But, he understood the feeling. The itch of wanting it gone. Because every time that thread glowed faintly against his skin, every time it caught in the light like a leash pulling at him, Bakugou wanted to rip it off with his teeth.

People talked about their strings like lifelines. To him, it was a noose.

The worst part? He could never ignore it. No matter how much he told himself it didn’t matter, it followed him everywhere—mocking him in silence.

Sometimes, in the middle of training, when the roar of his explosions drowned out the world, it was there. Wrapped around his pinky, glinting in the corner of his vision, dragging at his focus. Everyone else acted like the red string was some romantic fairy tale, some guarantee of happiness.

“Mine loops just around the corner I think! Can you believe it?” Ashido would gush, waving her hand around as the string shimmered like a ribbon in the sunlight.

Sero once laughed that his soulmate lived only a few blocks away. “Fate’s making it easy for me, huh?”

Even Deku—damn nerd—talked about how meaningful it all was, like the universe personally designed this crap to give people strength.

Bakugou wanted to puke.

“What the hell’s the point of some dumbass string telling me who I’m supposed to like?” he’d snap whenever the subject came up. “If I want something, I’ll get it myself. Don’t need the universe holding my damn hand.”

And it was true—soulmates didn’t mean jack. People fell in love without them, lived full lives without ever finding the other end of the thread. He’d seen interviews on TV where couples laughed about ignoring their strings completely.

So why did his string refuse to leave him alone?

Every time he glanced down, there it was, stretched too thin to follow. Always fading into the distance, reminding him that whoever was tied to him was nowhere close. Maybe that was the only good part: that they were far away, far enough he didn’t have to deal with it.

But the longer he stared at that glow, the more it pissed him off. It wasn't a choice. It wasn’t earned. It wasn’t him.

His parents didn’t make it any easier either.

Mitsuki loved to remind him how she and Masaru were red-string soulmates, how their threads had pulled them together across different schools, different lives, until fate tied them in a knot. She’d laugh about it like it was the funniest, sweetest thing in the world. Masaru would just smile, quiet as ever, and squeeze her hand, like their whole marriage was proof the universe had it right.

“You should be grateful you’ve got someone waiting for you,” his mom would scold whenever she caught him glaring at his string. “Not everyone gets that. Some people search their whole lives and never find the other end.”

His dad, softer but just as insistent, would tell him, “Sometimes it’s good to listen, Katsuki. The string isn’t there to hurt you—it’s there to help.”

Help? What the hell did they know?

They didn’t get it. They didn’t see how much it burned. How it distracted him. How it felt like the universe was trying to tug him off his own damn path.

He didn’t need some invisible leash pulling him around. Didn’t need some stranger he’d never met to shape his future. His goal was crystal clear: he was going to be the Number One Hero. That was it. That was everything.

So when his parents smiled knowingly and said, “One day, you’ll understand,” it only made him want to explode more.

Because no, he wouldn’t understand. He didn’t want to. His dream wasn’t going to take a backseat to some string, some soulmate, some cosmic joke.

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This chapter's votes have concluded.

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