wipe the blood off your face (it may stain)

Your Mind Is Playing Tricks On You, My Dear

Tommy's been thinking a lot about what Wilbur said yesterday.

He's staring up at the ceiling while laying on his lumpy couch, and he knows he could be doing something useful, but his thoughts has been taken over by how Wilbur acted in the medical wing.

Tommy, you don't understand.

It just makes him wonder; how can such a high-ranking hero be so scared of him?

I'm fucking terrified of Crimson.

Logically, he knows why Wilbur feels this way. Hell, the hero even explained it to him to why he's so afraid. But it's just so surprising.

Maybe being a villain isn't what he thinks it is. Maybe you must be crueller than Tommy can handle, because it melts his brain to even think that someone as powerful as the hero Siren never wants to see him – or rather Crimson – again out of fear.

That's another thing, the villain has been working in the Hero Tower for nearly three weeks and he's just sitting around. He hasn't even tried to do anything, even when he was offered an opportunity to possibly steal some technology from the workshop and he turned it down to be with Wilbur.

Well, he did that to not raise suspicion, that's all. He couldn't have let the heroes think he hurt the brunette on purpose.

It doesn't matter. That was then and this is now, what he needs to be doing is planning how he should steal or blackmail the heroes. The next time he's actually free to do whatever he pleases at work; he'll look around at some of the Hero Tower's files on cases. There's bound to be some things that wasn't strictly on whatever website the Hero Tower uses to keep track of missions and people. The internet hasn't been around as long as the heroes have, after all.

"Ready to eat, Tommy?" Ranboo asked. Tommy looked over to where the voice was located to see Tubbo and Ranboo sitting at their poor excuse of a table, ready to eat. So much for planning.

Tommy moved to get up and sat down with them. He looked down at his plate and groaned once he realized what they're eating. "Spaghetti Again, Ranboo?" He whined.

Ranboo crossed his arms. "You're so ungrateful for having a home cooked meal. Spaghetti is a wonderful dinner." He replied and wasted no time to dig into his meal.

Tommy turned to face Tubbo with a pleading expression. The brunette stared at him before sighing. "Ranboo, my friend, my beloved. You got to slow down on the spaghetti." Tubbo spoke up. Before anyone else could open their mouth to speak, he continued. "This doesn't mean we won't eat it this time." He gave a pointed look at Tommy. "We're not going to waste food. Especially when we don't have the money for it. But after this, let's take a break from spaghetti."

"Tubbo, you don't understand." Ranboo insisted. "Spaghetti is fantastic. It's cheap and delicious! What more could you two want?" As if to prove his point, he stuffed his face with more spaghetti.

"I'm fine with spaghetti, just not every time you make something for dinner." Tommy stated. "You know, spaghetti brings out a different side of you, Ranboob." He shook his head sadly. "You've just been changing, and frankly, I don't know if you can be in my life if you keep going on like this."

Ranboo shot him an unimpressed look. "Are you seriously trying to stage an intervention for me eating spaghetti?" The enderman hybrid drawled.

Tommy slammed his hands on this table. "Don't question my actions!" He yelled at Ranboo. "You know you need this Ranboob! You must go to spaghetti rehab!"

"Tommy just eat your damn spaghetti." Tubbo said, exasperated.

The blonde grumbled before begrudgingly eating his meal. They sat in silence before Tommy stared at the two. As Ranboo began drinking his water, he did what every big man would do with his amazing social skills, talk.