#and I wouldn't want to creep on anyone in real life

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: can i put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Please let me know if I missed any!

Previous

The bar isn't as crowded as you'd feared. Usually you spend New Year's Eve in the comfort of your own home where no one can judge you for going to sleep at a decent time. But Ransom had insisted that going to a random bar full of strangers was his New Year's Eve tradition. You probably would have fought him a bit harder but you were still recovering from Christmas.

Ransom knew you were trying to reach out to your family again. That you'd hoped to make progress with them over Christmas. When you came back to the office the day after he saw through your fake smile. He's not pushing for details, part of being a good friend, right? But he can at least hang around so there's someone you can talk to if needed. He'd hoped that going to a bar and picking out potential kissers would be a good distraction for you.

At least until you confessed you'd never had a New Year's Eve kiss before.

"I've told you my parents were...fundamentalists," you griped. "There are some aspects of it that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to shake. Like kissing some random guy being a bad idea."

"Well, what if you get to know the guy first?" Ransom thinks. "Just don't lead with 'never had a New Year's Kiss'. That'll just bring out the weirdos."

That makes you half smile. "Yeah, definitely wouldn't want my first kiss to be with a stranger."

Ransom's brow furrows in confusion, "you mean first New Year's Eve kiss, right?"

"That too," you casually confess before taking a long sip of your Pretty In Pink cocktail.

Ransom gives you a look you can't decipher before saying, "maybe this was a mistake."

"No! It's a new year, it can be a new experience, another aspect of the old me that I let go."

"Only if you're certain now, before you've had too much to drink."

"Aren't you supposed to get drunk first? Liquid courage and all that?"

Ransom hesitates. It wasn't that long ago he'd be the first to encourage you to kiss whatever creep came along, just to spite your parents. Encourage you to be more like him, playing life like a game without consequences. But he's not that guy anymore. Right? At the very least, you're too good a person to be mimicking his behaviors.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "no. You're telling me now, while you're sober and thinking relatively straight, if you really want to do this. Before you take another sip of that drink."

You give Ransom your best pout and you see him bristling. "I just wanna have some fun, Ran," you pout.

"Maybe this was a mistake," he shakes his head.

"No! You participated in my Friendsgiving tradition, I want to participate in one of your traditions! You said this is something you do every year and I want to participate!"

"We can spend the evening here, but we're gonna both forgo the kissing part," Ransom concedes. "We'll just get drunk and raise a toast at midnight, okay?"

You pout for real this time. "Why is it such a big deal? It's just a first kiss. Aren't women today supposed to be empowered to kiss whoever they want?"

Ransom considers his words. "You're right that you don't need permission to kiss anyone you want. I just...Something I've been trying to work on is reducing my family-induced cynicism. I know from experience that if you treat kisses like they're nothing, they can lose their meaning. I...I want better for you. Better for my friend."

Knowing how difficult it is for Ransom to talk about these things you stop pouting. "Okay," you nod. "Just a toast to bring in the new year."

"Thank you," he sighs, looking a bit more relaxed.

"How about we start the evening with a toast?" you offer, raising your glass. "A toast to friendship and new beginnings?"

Ransom raises his beer bottle, "and to not letting our past dictate our future."

You clink your drinks together and take a sip.

A couple hours and several drinks later you're feeling a little woozy. Ransom offers to go get the refills but you're adamant that it's your turn to do so. He's a bit tipsy himself, you've never seen him smile so much, and he agrees to let you go.

You give your order to the bartender and hold onto the bar to steady yourself when you feel a presence to your left. A tall man in a blue suit leans on the bar next to you. He's pretty handsome, even with the stubble. It actually works with his short hair. He turns to you and you struggle not to gasp at how pretty blue his eyes are.

"Oh, sorry if I'm crowding you," he smiles.

"No, not at all," you giggle.

"You here with your boyfriend?" he asks, gesturing to Ransom.

"Friend," you tell him.

His smile widens, "I'm Nick."

You give him your name as heat rushes to your face. This handsome man is talking with you!

"Got any plans for midnight? It's coming up in just an hour or so," Nick asks.

"A toast!" you say a little too loudly.

He gives you a mock frown, "no kiss?"

"No kisses! Just a toast. Ransom's idea."

"Ransom your friend?"

"Yup! And he's great! Once you get to know him."

"Yeah? Would you be up for introducing me? Letting me get to know him?"

"Sure! He could use more friends and you seem the friendly type!"

"That I am," he smirks.

The bartender brings you your drinks and you pay for them before making your way back to Ransom. Nick is very helpful at keeping you steady on your feet.

Back at the table you beam at Ransom, "I made a new friend! His name is Nick."

Nick holds out his hand to Ransom and says, "nice to meet you Hugh."

Ransom's smile is gone and whatever buzz he'd been feeling is greatly diminished. He grabs your hand, "we're going. Now."

"What? Why?" you pout. But Ransom gives you a look that pierces your drunken haze enough that you're grabbing your coat to go with him.

Ransom's jaw is clenched and he's practically dragging you out of the bar. Risking a glance back at Nick you see him smiling smugly, making you feel even more confused.

Once outside Ransom takes a breath of the cold air to steady himself. The plan was to walk back to your place since it was so close to the bar but now he's not sure. What if that asshole follows and makes things worse for you?

"C'mon," he tells you, taking your arm. "We're going to catch a cab back to my place."

"I don't like your place," you drunkenly confess. "It's so bare."

"Well then I'll make sure to get some interior decorating advice from you while we're there tonight, okay?"

You giggle at the thought but then you shiver, "Ransom, it's cold out here and I don't have my gloves."

"We're going to get a cab soon enough," he promises as he walks down the sidewalk, pulling you along with him.

"What's gotten into you? Oh, why did Nick call you Hugh? Is that what set you off?"

"Sort of," he grunts, looking everywhere for a cab. He doesn't want to use a Lyft or Uber in case this Nick character decides to share in on it.

"My hands are cold," you whine. "Can i put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?"

"When we get into the cab, sure."

You giggle, "I'm gonna hold you to that."

Ransom's barely gotten you into the back of the cab before you shove your hands underneath his sweater, making him yipe.

"Mmm, so warm. You gently squeeze his belly and snuggle close. "Even better than a plushie," you murmur as you start to fall asleep.

Ransom half carries you into his apartment and you give a little squeal when you see the Sweater Pusheen you'd gotten him sitting in a chair.

"You kept it?"

"Of course I did," Ransom admits. "Makes for good company."

You start to tear up, "I thought you hated it because I never saw it after I gave it to you."

"It's a nice gift and I like to have it around. Kept me from getting too lonely at Christmas."

You wrap your arms around Ransom with such force he falls back onto the couch. He tries to unclasp your arms from around him but you're holding tight so he waits for a few moments, letting you get the hug out of your system. Normally you ask permission but he's not going to begrudge you being a happy drunk.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes when he hears your soft snoring and resigns himself to a night on the couch. He looks at you softly and kisses the top of your head. There are worse ways to bring in the new year, he figures.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

@thiquefunlover63

[extra-stout-stories]

Feedist Yearning Is

Wishing the cute fat people picking up drive-thru and eating in their cars would decide to eat in the restaurant instead so you can admire them.

[stevieschrodinger]

I do not have time to write this, but I really need to write it down.

All the events of Stranger things happen as normal - one crucial difference, Eddie gets involved, but not in the same way. He's an innocent by stander who never made friends with the kids. He's a vague background character to the action. He's an extra on set, effectively, and when he drops out of school and leaves town abruptly, someone might notice, but no one really questions it.

Years later, the only thing that feels real about the whole thing are the scars Steve still carries on his body. Sometimes, sometimes, he has to call Robin, just to check it was all real. That he hasn't lost his mind. He still flinches when a light flickers, to this day his ears ring for hours after a loud noise. He has headaches.

The only people he can talk to about it are Robin and the kids; but he feels bad. The kids aren't kids anymore, and they all seem to have just...gotten on with their lives. Seemed to have grown and evolved past it all, even though Steve regularly still wakes in the night, sweating and fighting with his bed covers. He doesn't put that on them, he sounds happy on the phone, and he is, loves hearing about their lives, their relationships, their plans and their own kids.

Robin has a girlfriend, she's happy and settled. Steve's the only one who seems...stuck. Like he cant move past it. He bums around. Stays with Nancy for a while, then Robin. Visits Argyle, makes loose acquaintances and sofa surfs. Drifts, aimlessly, through life.

It's about time in his cycle to visit Robin, but the relationship is serious this time and she nags him to find his own place to stay near by - loosing patience with him when he fails to be motivated and finding it for him herself. It's tiny, the kind of place where the bed is also the couch and the TV rests on a short run of kitchen counter because there's no where else. Feels okay though.

Steve gets a job. Spends a day on foot, door to door, walking through town; lands in a record shop of all places, even though CD's have now well and truly taken hold and vinyl isn't much of a thing. It's dark inside, the walls painted black, the bare brick red. A couple of people browse through, but Steve heads right for the counter.

There's some screamo rock stuff playing that Steve doesn't recognize, but it's quiet, so it's okay.

Behind the counter, someone Steve half recognizes from another life. Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. What are the odds.

Eddie isn't who Steve remembers. He's angry now. Bitter. Has a horrible scar that creeps up his neck and onto his face, pulling the corner of his lip down. Steve does his best to ignore it. Begs for work.

Eddie employs him, but only because he thinks it's fucking funny how far the king has fallen. Now the king works for the jester.

Steve does his best at the shop. Cleans a lot. Gets on well with the customers, charms plenty of sales.

Eddie walks with a cane and seems to hate everyone and everything; but nothing so much as a cold morning. Seems to be in more pain than usual.

Steve wants to ask, Eddie tells him it was an animal attack. In 86.

Steve's seen some of the scars by now, caught glimpses of how bad Eddie was hurt; helped Eddie even when Eddie was spitting angry about accepting any help.

What the fuck kind of animal could do that much damage in Hawkins?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

And Steve puts it together then, instantly and viscerally realizes in his bones what must have happened. No one ever believed Eddie. Why would they? How could anyone think that monsters coming out of the walls, out of the floors, out of glowing red portals could be the truth?

And Steve says, did it's face peel apart like a flower?

And then he tells Eddie. He tells Eddie everything. He shows Eddie his own scars. Tells him about every monster they ever come across. It was one of the demo dogs. Like Dart. Steve knew it must have been, but Eddie confirms with a description.

And then Eddie cries, because he finally has a explanation. He's not crazy. For the first time in his life, someone believes him.

[g0niki]

through your window ── h.ts & k.lh

pairing: sneaky link! taesan x afab!reader x voyeur!leehan (used their real names for plot purposes)

word count: 964 (shorter than usual)

contents: no protection(do better.), taesan's a bit rough, leehan is a creep... non-con voyeurism, mmm pretty tame lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: not my best,, but i need to get out of this writer's block 🤸 @jwonsite helped me with the ending🖤

donghyun hated the way he touched you. he hated the way his hands ran down your curves, the way he pushed his lips against yours, how he firmly pushed you down onto the soft material of the mattress. 

but what he hated most of all was that he wasn’t the one in your room with you, only ever an observer.

he had the perfect view into your dorm from his current position. the flowers and leaves of the bush hiding him in the dark. 

donghyun had only ever seen you from afar; the first time was an accident, he swears it was. he had found himself walking around the dark campus, taking a late night walk to ease his mind during the hectic exam season and then he saw you. 

lying with your face pushed into the pillows and your ass up, using an unimpressive toy to get yourself off. the sheer curtains doing little to cover you. 

he couldn't look away.

【☆】★【☆】

it had been around 3 months since then. he never interacted with you outside of these moments... (if you could even call it an interaction.) opting to be an observer and continue living your life without ever coming into contact. 

he did his best to avoid you, feeling guilty after every late-night viewing. standing in the shower trying to wash away his impure actions, telling himself that he wouldn't dare go back. he did his best but fell into temptation each time. 

it didn't help when you started bringing a third party into the equation.

donghyun envied dongmin. he should be the one making you feel good, your lips should be uttering his name, and your legs should be wrapped around his waist.

not dongmin's. 

he even envied the older's name, shamelessly getting off as you uttered the almost identical name. he couldn't hear you, but the way your lips mixed and the syllables rolled off your tongue would make him shamelessly grip his needy member.

tonight was no different. dongmin had entered your dorm not too long ago, pinning you against your room door and wasting no time, pressing his lips against your neck. 

the entry faced the window directly, meaning donghyun's view was obscured by dongmin's frame. he could only see your upper articles of clothing tossed off and the taller male marking your neck. 

your head leaning back on the door as your small hand grips the back of dongmin's hair, his lips marking all over your neck and shoulders leaving no space unmarked. he watches as dongmin grips your thighs and hoists you up in the air, pushing your small frame against the door. 

the older’s hips pushing up into yours as his lips come in contact with yours, leaving you breathless. 

god, how he wishes that were him. 

donghyun watches as dongmin tosses your figure onto the mattress, bending you over the bed and giving him the perfect view of your blissed-out face. he watches as dongmin kisses down your back and slides your underwear off, giving himself access to your sweet center. 

dongmin dives down, spreading your legs to eat your cunt from behind and donghyun watches. his brows pressing together as he watches your jaw drop open, imagining the sweet sounds leaving your lips.

the thought of your essence dripping down his lips and staining his t-shirt. the scent of your center being so close, he could only dream of getting a taste. no matter how badly donghyun wants to lose himself to his pleasure, he wouldn’t dare look away from you. he couldn’t let dongmin have you all to himself. 

dongmin stands up, towering over your bent figure as he presses his groin against your ass, gripping your hair and yanking you up. 

donghyun groans. he couldn’t care if anyone heard, your body being on full display for him and leaving none to the imagination was everything he could ask for. 

hands gripping your chest, tracing your figure. his cock sliding between your thighs and bumping your clit, making your body jump with each touch. 

donghyun feels his face turn red, he doesn’t know whether or not to be angry at the fact that he isn’t experiencing this or if he’s turned on just by watching something so private. his grip around his length tightens, his pumps slowing down as his teeth grit down. he wouldn’t dare cum before you. 

the stretch of dongmin’s cock has you biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, donghyun’s thumb brushes his tip, he knows he could fill you just as good if not better. wanting to brush against your cervix and fuck you full, make you his instead. 

“dongmin! dongmin! dongmin!” the words leaving your lips make him even harder, he’s so close to being the one you like,  yet so far all at the same time. 

dongmin pushes down your upper body, using his grip on your head to bury your body further into the mattress, drool leaving your lips and staining the sheets.

your hands gripping onto the plush material.

“fuck.” donghyun is panting hard now. how he needs to be in you, needs you wrapped around him milking him of everything he has to give you. 

and he watches you shake. watches you finish. watches you clench around another man. he watches it all. 

and dongmin watches him watch. 

locking his eyes with the younger boy he pulls your head up to give donghyun a good look at your blissed-out face, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you pant rapidly. and he smirks.

he has exactly what the other can’t have.

dongmin flips you onto your back and bites down on your shoulder, his eyes still locked with donghyun’s, claiming you as his own.

donghyun can’t look away from the scene unfolding in front of him, eyes locked in on how dongmin starts to stretch you open.

the hand wrapped around his member speeds up as he watches the older ram into you, grabbing your face to make you look at him just as donghyun is cumming all over his hand, dripping down to stain his pants.

and he becomes aware of the situation, his face and ears turning red when he locks eyes with dongmin again, quickly tucking his member back into his pants and leaving the scene. promising himself he would never come back again, but he knows that isn’t true.

ᯓ★

@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.

[heartfullofleeches]

Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

-

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

-

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

-

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

[lizardsfromspace]

The almost anti-evidence sourceless nature of that kind of discourse dovetails really badly with how many people who do that also love to make violent threats, which are okay if they're against bad people, and if it's ironic in that way everything is ironic online now, where any humor in it, even dark, vanished years ago but it persists as a shambling zombie where irony once was

This is the result of "it's not my job to educate you" morphing from "people in marginalized groups shouldn't have to educate privileged people on their oppression and existence all the time" to this odd status quo where you're never supposed to explain anything, no matter how arcane or niche, to anyone, but you can hold them responsible for not knowing it

So it's resulted in this culture of people going "if you support this, you should die!" and then...nobody outside the bubble discovering what that is, since they never see anything about it

And people who do this would say, well, they should educate themselves. But, and I can't believe this eludes grown ass adults:

if people's first encounter with you is you being scary and threatening to them for seemingly no reason, they will never care about what you have to say

If someone screamed at you like that in real life, you'd cross the street and walk faster. You wouldn't go home and intently look up what they were saying so you could learn more. It's no different online. They'll just block you. This is a teaching moment, but what they're being taught is that you're a strange, aggressive creep they don't want anything to do with, and, you know, they're right to think that?

[pinksilkribbons]

MAMA SAID: Yandere! Jason Voorhees x F! Reader

CW/TW: bullying, sort of stalking (?), ableism, kidnapping, canon divergence, death (not mentioned in detail at all)

i might make a part two if you guys want it idk. also the end is kinda rushed sorry lol. i love jason sm and i really tried to explore his character a bit here, specifically younger jason.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you met at camp.

This was your first time attending and you were pretty nervous. Your whole life you've always been a little shy around new people, and your mother decided it would be the perfect opportunity for you to make some new friends.

No matter how much you whined and begged she was dead set on you going. You even faked a fever, and she still wouldn't budge! And so, here you were: Hot, sweaty, and carrying an overpacked duffel bag.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who has been to camp crystal lake a few times now. Thanks to his past experiences he knows his way around pretty well. He also knows who to avoid and not mess with. Since a lot of people like to pick on him, he's kind of took it upon himself to be prepared for anything.

Thats why he makes sure to hide behind some trees, closely watching the entrance. It's important that he knows what to expect or, in this case, who to expect.

First comes in Mia and her twin brother Mikey. The two of them don't really mess with him much so there isn't much concern there. Next, Terri. Terri was pretty mean to him, but she never got physical. As long as he stayed quiet and out of her way things should run smoothly.

A few more campers who he isn't familiar with walk through. A sick feeling sets in his stomach. The kind that tells you something bad is going to happen. His mother warned him of this. They were expecting far more campers than usual this year...he wishes he could say it excited him.

To his dismay, the last few campers rush through. A terrible chill runs through his body at the sight of his bully. Or, well, bullies. There's a small group of kids who especially get a kick out of messing with him.

Last year they set up a "prank" in his cabin and poured an entire bucket of water over his head while he slept. When he started choking, they just ran off while giggling. If his mother didn't come to help him who knows what could've happened.

Among the group is a new person. A girl, actually. A pretty one at that. Jason zeroes in on the pretty girl as they all walk in together. The leader of the group, Alex, is walking much closer to the girl than anyone else.

Of course, she's probably his girlfriend. I mean, they're pretty young but he's seen a few people claim to be dating anyway. But he's noticed it's a different kind of dating compared to what the counselors do. Kind of weird.

Jason sometimes wishes he could have a girlfriend. Maybe even just a friend. He just wants someone to talk to. Someone to play with. Someone to look at him and not be disgusted or scared.

"Jason! I made your favorite!" His mom calls from a distance.

As weird as it may seem, Jason feels a connection to the girl already. If he worked up the courage, he'd like to speak with her...even if it's just once. He really wanted to stay and watch her some more, but he knew better than to worry his mama. So, he walks through the woods and makes his way towards the cafeteria.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who has been discreetly searching for you. Most campers are near the campfire making s'mores, but you're nowhere to be found. As risky as it is Jason makes a decision. Besides, there's a camp counselor not too far from here so he should be safe.

"Hey, Alex? Can I ask you s-something?"

The blonde swifty turns back and scowls at him. Jason already feels a sense of fear creeping up his neck. "What do you want, freak?"

With a deep breathe he continues. "Uhm...what happened to your friend? The...girl?" The last part comes out as if he's questioning if he saw correctly. If that girl was even real at all.

Alex's face seems to get even more annoyed by the second. He jumps up and hands his friend the pack of marshmallows he was holding. The bully glances around, clearly checking to see if any adults or counselors are within range. The two of them meet eyes and there's an unspoken agreement.

He won't do anything when a counselor is just over there.

A leaf crunches under his shoe as he moves closer. Jason wants to move back, every inch of his body is ushering him to get away, but his fear keeps his feet right where they are.

"Listen to me, mama's boy", his words come out venomously, "[Name] is my cousin and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from her." Tears surface near the end of Jason's eyes at the harsh tone. He feels ashamed for even crying anymore. It's happened so many times that he should be used to it by now.

Alex and his friends cackle loudly. Whatever they're saying he's sure it isn't nice. No matter, though. Jason already feels himself cheering up. He speeds up and swings open the cafeteria door, making his mother jump in surprise.

The boy can't help the wide grin taking over his face.

"Goodness, baby! Knock next time. I almost had a heart attack."

His mother's words don't even register in his mind. He may not know where the girl is, but he knows her name now. That's a win in his book!

Even her name is pretty.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who finally sees you again during lunch. A few of the newer campers were calling him names so he ran off with his sandwich in hand. He finally came to a stop once he was a little deeper in the woods, and there you were, sitting against a tree and drawing a sketch of the lake.

A blush rushed to his cheeks and he nervously ducked behind a nearby tree. Unfortunately, you'd heard him and jumped up rather quickly.

"Who's there?" You asked, eyes scanning for anyone nearby. He stayed quiet and hoped you'd just dismiss the sound.

"I'm serious, Alex. After that stunt you pulled last night you're lucky I didn't tell anyone." You seemed to pause, as if you were waiting for a response. "Hello...Alex? Is it you?"

Jason felt a bit bad when he seen you so scared. You held the sketch book to your chest tightly and your legs were trembling in fear. His mom taught him to always be honest and true so, maybe he should just come out. "Uhm. It isn't Alex..." He said, slowly peeking his head from around the tree.

"Oh."

The two of you stood there awkwardly taking in each other. To his surprise you didn't seem disgusting or scared. Just curious, if anything. He felt a little nervous being looked at so thoroughly. You hated him already, didn't you?

"Sorry about that. I'm [Name]. Jason, right?" You tucked the sketchbook under your arm and reached out with the other, offering him a shake. Jason's hand trembled against your own, yet still firmly shook all the while.

You hadn't spoken with him much, but he has quite the reputation at camp, so you've heard of him. No good things unfortunately. He didn't seem like a bad guy to you though. Just a different one.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you became friends with ever since that handshake. He introduced you to his mom and she was more than excited to learn her son made a friend.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you sneak into the cafeteria with at night to steal some sweet treats. The two of you haven't got caught once since the counselors are never doing their job anyway.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you defend from bullies. Including your cousin Alex. Sometimes it ends with the both of you bleeding, but you don't care about that! Jason is your friend and you're not going to stand by and let him get bullied!

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who loves watching you draw. At night after scoring some cookies, the two of you sit near the lake and he watches you sketch. His favorite was a self-portrait you drew, and since he liked it so much, you signed it and let him keep it.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who can't find you at breakfast time. When he asked him mom she simply told him that she didn't know. So, he decided to go check on you. As he approaches the girls cabin a counselor stops him with a strict look on her face.

"Can I help you?" Jason fails to mask his look of annoyance. Since when did they start caring about the kids around here? "M-my friend [Name]. I couldn't find her at breakfast and wanted to make sure she's okay."

"Oh, her. Yeah, she's sick. For some reason they're making me watch the kid." Her emphasis on 'me' made it seem like it was an insult for her to have to watch [Name]. How stuck-up.

From this alone Jason could tell today would be a rough one.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who suddenly gets ambushed by Alex and several other campers when he walks back near the campfire. They rush towards him and begin pulling the white mask off his face, shouting insults all the while.

"I heard [Name] got sick! Bet he gave her the cooties!"

"Ew, look at his face! I can see why he wears that thing around."

"You're such a mama's boy. Too good to hang out with the rest of us, huh?"

A terrible feeling settles on his chest. He'd been bullied before, but so many people throwing insults at him all at once was a lot to handle. Too much to handle.

With newfound adrenaline Jason runs off, not even realizing that he's nearing the dock. All he can think about is getting away. He just wants it to stop. He hates himself. He hates his face, his personality, he hates all of it. A part of him wishes he was never born.

He just wants to be left alone!

The voices of the campers get louder. They're Approaching. They're getting closer. And suddenly, Jason is right back to that same day.

That day where he approached Alex and asked about [Name]. That same day he couldn't move and was just frozen with fear. He hated how he felt then. And he never wants to feel that way again.

He has to move! He has to do something!!

So... he jumps into the lake.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who misses you more than anything. He misses his mother too, of course, but she was still with him. In spirit at least.

"You should go find her, Jason", his mother tells him.

And He wants to. He wants to find you. He wants to hug you again. He wants to eat cookies with you again. He wants to sit by the trees and watch you draw again. He misses his old life. He misses you.

"So go find her and re-live that life."

If he leaves then who will watch over camp? Forget it. It would be selfish of him to leave their home unattended for his own desires. Anything could happen while he's gone! Besides, there's no telling how long it'll take him to find you.

The voice of his mother laughs a bit. "You're so sweet, my son. I will lead you to her. A quick trip. Here and back."

Jason was still hesitant to agree. But if mama said it'll be okay, then it should be okay. Right?

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who finds your apartment quicker than he expected. Judging by the boxes scattered throughout different rooms, he's assuming you've only just moved in.

He snoops around a bit out of curiosity. Can you blame him? It’s been years since you’ve seen each other. He finds a picture of you graduating high-school in the living room. He realizes then that he’s never met your parents.

Moving forward, he creaks open the door to your bedroom. In the corner he spots a canvas with a few strokes of paint on the surface. He isn’t sure what you were trying to paint, but it makes him happy to know you’re still into art just as much as back then.

Luckily you live alone. He was a little worried about having to kill someone in order to bring you back with him. He didn't want to ruin your clothes with blood or anything like that!

The second he sees your sleeping face he feels a warm feeling hug his heart. It had been too long. You lost all that baby fat and now had a mature, even more beautiful face. Not that he expected any different. You were always so gorgeous to him.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who grabs you out of bed and throws you against his shoulder. You wake up pretty quickly and start kicking and squirming as soon as you register what’s going on. Who the hell even is this?!

“Hey! L-let me go!!” You start banging your fists against his back but it doesn’t even seem to affect him. He just keeps walking and walking, not speaking a single word the entire time.

Eventually, you begin sobbing. Your throat goes dry from how much you’ve been screaming. It is pretty late, but how come no one is coming to save you? Why can’t anyone hear you?

The cold air is eating at your legs since you slept in a cami top and some shorts. Your captor still has yet to speak. He also has a super tight grip. It would definitely bruise. If you even make it out of this alive.

“Please…” You beg, slowly losing hope. There are no street lights, cars, houses…nothing. He was taking you to a secluded area to do who knows what to you. This was the end. This was how you’d die.

After a few more minutes the man grunts and swings open a door. It’s pitch black outside so you aren’t exactly sure where you’re at. “Please, just let me go.”

He stays silent and lays you down on a bed surprisingly gently. Before you can even blink he’s binding your hands against the headboard with some rope. His hands move fast to make sure you have no chances of running away.

You feel more tears fall down your cheeks. How could this happen to you? Why was this happening to you?

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who feels bad for tying your hands up. He didn’t miss the way you winced in pain. Mama said it would be necessary until you get used to living here though.

When she says it’s time, he’ll allow you to take them off.

“She’s so beautiful, Jason. It’s only a matter of time until she gets comfortable with you again. Until then, she’ll have to stay like this. . .”

He hates this. Jason just wants to untie you and hug you like old times! He hates seeing you so sad, so scared. He feels bad for even doing this in the first place.

He trusts his mama, though. So for now, he’ll stay patient and wait for you to come around.

Just like mama said.

[hiskillingjar]

hi! (Asking on anon because interesting people scare me, in a good way.) I was wondering if you knew the Gatobob post saying that teen Lawrence would have given stuff like dead animals or anything generally dead as a gift to whoever their crush was. And wanted to ask if you had any headcanons about how the guys would act now if they found someone they were interested in?

this is a cute idea <3

ren 🦊

the most prone to developing crushes, i think.

partly down to his age and down to theeeee lack of connection to anyone in his life before that (/this?)

he's pretty lonely and pretty extroverted too, so this man THRIVES when he's in love with someone and has someone he can put all of his attention into. he's a great hyperfixater

falls pretty quickly. if someone is nice to him, pays attention to him, whatever, he'll just fall head over heels super easy

crushes like a teenage girl, too. drawing their names together in a notebook, surrounding their names with hearts, staring, sighing dreamily, kicking his legs, twirling his hair etc. he's not subtle at allllll

he just wants someone to love! he loves being in love, it's the best thing ever, why wouldn't he put his whole heart and soul into it?

he's also a totally weird pervert who will jerk off to stolen panties and clippings of hair and all that

pervert <3

law 🥀

weirdo. creep. creep by radiohead.

you're so fucking special, i wish i was special. but i'm a creep.

(that song is about a tgirl i think. i know it is, actually)

real doomer style approach to love and romance and sex and everything.

the few times they would actually develop a crush on someone (cus let's be real, they don't leave the house enough to do that), it would ruin their lifeeeeee

yes, they'd certainly TRY to connect, give a dead animal, taxidermy an animal heart, all that, but if that didn't work??? if they were vulnerable with someone and it was thrown back in their face

doom spiral. self harm. extreme isolation. maybe a little rage. broken windows, broken plant pots, broken mirrors.

how could they have been so stupid?? you're stupid, you're not like them, you'll never be like them. lie down and rot.

(don't tell me, i already know <3)

strade 🔨

i mean.

honestly i don't think strade has a pining bone in his body lol

if he's interested in someone, he's just going to say it. he isn't concerned with anyone turning him down. their loss! (or his gain, if he gets to take them by force <3)

and like. love/fondness/adoration creeps up on strade. it's not something he's naturally akin to.

interest is there, though, so once that happens, the others MAY come...if they last long enough, anyway :)

[damnfandomproblems]

Responding to 3 anons in #5796

"I agree with this tbh. Like adults are the ones making things unsafe for minors in fandom spaces. YOU are the ones who approach minors unprompted. Minors are just minding their own business in fandom, then you all come along and bother everyone."

Predators that are adults are not synonymous with all adults in fandom. It's not the fault of the vast majority of fandom that kids purposefully bust into adult spaces and arbitrarily believe the creeps saying they're "safe" adults. It's the fault of your parents for not reaching you worth a damn and the predator. And yes, kids do fucking barge into adult NSFW spaces. None of the the ones that say they mind their business actually do.

"I agree with this post, cause like... the ones doing the most harassing are adults. I am a minor, and it makes me feel unsafe in fandom spaces. Especially when I see adults drawing nsfw of characters who are MINORS! aging them up does not excuse that gross and creepy behavior. Just stop and give us a space where we don't get pushed into a corner and called annoying. Leave our fandom spaces!"

It's gonna be really funny when you age out of your favorite characters and have a moral dilemma over the fact that you don't stop thirsting over Bakugo or whoever the fuck the minute you're older than him.

And aging up is...how time works. That's like saying no one can view anyone sexually, fictional or real life, because they were once a child. Do you realize how stupid that sounds? If you don't want to be sat at the kids table, learn how to behave rather than screaming at the main table because Aunt Milly told an off color joke and Grandpa Joe has a naked Princess Peach tattooed on his arm.

"I see people getting mad about Fandom Problem #5796, but that kind of is just proving the point? You all act like the minors are the biggest problem in fandom, but you are the ones constantly inserting yourselves and making it about you.

I see adults say things like:

- "Fandom wouldn't exist without adults."

- "Who do you think created fandom? Not minors!"

- "Minors wouldn't have content if it weren't for adults."

All are ignorant of the idea that minors are the foundation to fandom. Fandom would not exist if it wasn't for minors being interested in it and starting groups for people to join. Often times, the best artists and writers in the fandoms are THE MINORS.

Adults make the space uncomfortable by inserting themselves and putting NSFW fics and art of minor characters. Then they get pissy when a minor points out it makes them uncomfortable and go "stop invading our space!"

You are the ones trying to push minors out when we just want to have fun! Just leave us alone!

-A minor"

Minors aren't the biggest problem, no. But by food are they the loudest. You say you just want to have fun but minors have on mass harassed people that were leaving them alone simply because they didn't understand the concept of dead dove don't eat.

And no, you are not, nor have you ever been, the foundation of fandom. It has always been adults, from the very beginning when Sherlock Holmes novels gained an international fan club unlike the world had ever seen to the 1960s housewife Spock/Kirk shipping Trekkies starting conventions, mailing lists, having coalate parties for zines, and laying down the foundation we have today. Adults were the ones that got sued my lunatic writers in the 90s, and they're the ones that, 90% of the time, are buying the services or media for you to consume in the first place.

And I'm sorry, but the best artists and writers in the fandom are never minors. Exceptionally talented minors are exceptional for a reason. The rest of you sit somewhere between "average and has potential" to "would make My Immortal hide its face in secondhand embarassment." Art and writing are skills, and anyone under the age of 16 likely hasn't been writing fiction long enough to run with the heavy hitters. Considering the state of the US education system, this is an even more laughable stance.

Many minors have great potential, but acting like your the best in show when you just made it out the gate is the height of hubris.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[mur4sak1]

Elves with an insecure reader (part 1)

A/N: I apologize in advance but for this time I preferred to divide the story into two parts because I really wanted to deeply analyze this aspect of insecurity which I care a lot about. For this reason, putting them all together would have been too long and chaotic. There will be 4 characters in this one and 4 in the next one, who do you think they will be? (Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3)

For the following part click here -> Part 2

Characters: Galdor, Maedhros, Maglor, Glorfindel

Galdor: I think we can all agree that with Galdor by your side it would be IMPOSSIBLE to feel insecure. The brown elf is so loving and caring that, whenever you have any insecurity, he would shower you with sincere and affectionate praise, making you feel like the most precious creature in all of Belerian. He would never allow a doubt to creep into your heart, especially when it comes to the way you see or perceive yourself. If your insecurity issues were purely aesthetic, I can assure you that he would never make you doubt your beauty. In his eyes you are an angel, a pure soul that only deserves to be preserved and he would be the last elf in the world capable of making you compete with anyone else. He wouldn't look at any woman and would never do anything disrespectful towards you, so it would be more unique than rare to have this kind of insecurity with him. However, as regards non-aesthetic problems, which therefore come from you, he would be by your side like no other person could. Even before you could say anything, he would already be working on it. In fact, Galdor would have a natural talent in capturing the moments when his beloved is feeling down. He would notice it from the little things; the way your breathing becomes shorter and more held, your gaze lowering, or your body movements becoming slower and less confident. And promptly, as if it were written in his DNA, he would have the most suitable reactions to comfort you and bring you back to him. Even in moments of panic, where you could become aggressive and seemingly intractable, he always managed to make you calm down and realize how far from reality your paranoia was. One thing guys, he would NEVER judge you, he would NEVER belittle any of your fears, he would always and only try to make you understand how distant the monsters in your head were from real life, from you. He was always so kind, so reassuring, so perfect that it seemed unreal. Any praise he would offer you would be genuine, not dictated by the need to make you feel better, but because, in his eyes, your qualities are evident. And it hurts him so much every time to see how much pain he causes you needlessly. How can you not see how perfect you are? He would really like you to see yourself through his eyes…

Maedhros: I firmly believe that with Maedhros, your insecurities would definitely come from his role and family situation. Being the first son of the king he would certainly have countless expectations behind him and his role would require many responsibilities which would inevitably fall on you too. Most likely you didn't come from a noble family, you didn't have a large inheritance and in addition you weren't even a pure elf, so this created quite a few insecurities and shortcomings that couldn't be calmed. However, this did not interfere with your love. Maedhros has always been by your side from the first moment, supporting you and making you understand that he did not want any woman other than you, even if that other met the requirements expected from the wife of a future elven king. There had certainly been some attempt on Feanor's part to match his son with an elf of noble lineage before you were accepted by him, but without success. In fact, he always feared that you wanted his son for money and power, and he was indignant that, not being able to offer anything, you only wanted to rip out his heart and exploit it. But he soon realized that, despite the benefits that marriages between powerful people could provide, the feeling would be in vain, and therefore a useless force (on the other hand, remember that Maedhros never married, so I imagine that was not of vital importance for Feanor). It took a while to change his mind and make him realize that you really cared about him, and when that happened the situation calmed down slightly. Feanor's strong and greedy character was difficult to identify and you never understood if he had ever really accepted you or if he just tolerated you, and not being fully appreciated by him made you suffer a lot. But the fact that he knew how deep your love for his son was, was enough. Furthermore, the redhead would become even more sensitive and sweet after Angband. He himself had fought against his insecurities after his imprisonment and the pain caused by the loss of his hand... precisely for this reason he understood more than anyone else what it meant to feel vulnerable. You had always been by his side, you had never judged him for his fears and weaknesses, giving him all the strength he needed, so he would never have allowed himself to let you suffer alone. Maedhros would be patient, never forcing you to talk about your insecurities if you don't feel like it, but always remaining by your side, ready to offer you his comfort when you are ready to open up.

Maglor: Maglor would be very capable at dealing with an insecure person. Although he wasn't the eldest brother, he was certainly the most mature and empathetic in the family and for this reason he often found himself having to deal with little crying pests or giving them strength when they didn't feel up to Feanor's expectations. I want to clarify one thing, because I believe that in Maglor's eyes, having an insecure person alongside would be a great fortune. In fact, if on the paternal side traits such as strength, determination and pride were strengthened, on her side, Nerdanel placed great emphasis on maintaining humility and humanity, love for life and the attempt to preserve it. Their mother was in fact against all the atrocities that her husband wanted to commit and it was she who had kept his impulses in check for the first period of their marriage. However, when he urged the Noldor to abandon Valinor, she refused to follow him, remaining faithful to his values. The separation, however, caused great pain to Maglor who, in part, felt responsible for following them as the "only maternal and reasonable figure" who could stand by her brothers. He never wanted to leave his home but he was afraid of what could happen to them in the hands of his father's violent obsession with power. Consequently, for him it was like being able to always keep a part of your mother and all of her teachings alive in you, not having to always be forced to pretend to be "detached" to gain respect in a world much crueler than he would have ever imagined. In fact, when your insecurity arose, helping you overcome it made him feel good, made him feel useful. Maglor was also very unsure of himself, not in terms of his diplomatic or artistic skills, but in terms of feeling valid, feeling necessary. In fact, he thought he was not usefull and was a simple secondary character without any fundamental role... but when he helped others he felt important, as being someone's support, as his mother had taught him, becomes the necessary condition that allows your sun to shine, and you surely were all his light.

Glorfindel: Despite his imposing figure and status, Glorfindel would be very attentive to the feelings of the person he loves and would make it his main goal to eliminate even the smallest traces of insecurity or worry in you. But the way he would do it, oh boy, would it really make you laugh. Given how deep the love and the respect he has for you is, just to see you smile and stop the cold tears from staining your face, he would go so far as to embarrass himself; he would never worry about appearing uncomfortable in public if it meant making you feel better. In fact, very often, Glorfindel would resort to gestures that are both exaggerated and unexpected. Imagine finding him in the middle of the square in Gondolin telling some awkward joke or improvising some stupid interaction with the world around you to try to make you smile. If someone looked at him with perplexity, the blond elf wouldn't worry in the slightest: the only thing that matters to him is seeing your face shine again. And if that meant putting aside his heroic and dignified figure for a few minutes, he would do so without hesitation. His clumsiness is not just an attempt to distract you, but also a way to show you that you are much more important to him than his reputation or pride. And when he finally sees your expression relax and your eyes shine again, he would approach you with a disarming tenderness. "You see?" he would say with a playful smile but a very serious tone, "If I can make fun of myself to make you feel better, then no doubt or insecurity should ever faze you. You are much stronger than all of that."

[knoepfl]

Frayed Threads of Control

So I thought since we've got a villain (Shigaraki) and a student (Monoma) we either need a teacher or a hero and lucky us Aizawa is both! So here he is! I was inspired by the post of @devotion-disorder so check them out! If you want to see more characters in that room be sure to check out the Masterlist and/or write a comment or request if you want to see someone specific! I'm always open and happy to do them!^^ Anyways.... ENJOY!

Masterlist

---

The room was dim and quiet, save for the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Aizawa Shouta stood motionless, his black hair a tangled mess as his tired eyes scanned the walls. Photos were pinned across every surface—your face beaming in each one. It was a familiar sight, the kind of expression you usually saved just for him.

But you weren’t alone in these pictures.

Every image showed you beside someone else. Laughing, holding hands, gazing at this stranger with the kind of warmth that Aizawa thought was his. The man’s hands rested comfortably on your waist, his arm around your shoulder. The sight of it was enough to make Aizawa’s fingers curl into fists inside the deep pockets of his jacket.

His throat felt tight, but his face remained unreadable. Years as a pro hero had taught him to suppress his emotions, to keep himself steady no matter the situation. But right now? That resolve was slipping.

Slowly. Unforgivingly.

5 Minutes in:

Aizawa stood completely still, staring at the photos with narrowed, calculating eyes. His mind churned, trying to piece together some logical explanation. This has to be a trick. A prank. You wouldn't—

His jaw clenched as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to fight off the unease rising in his chest. “What’s the point of this?” he muttered under his breath. “You wouldn’t do this to me.”

A small part of him wanted to believe this wasn’t real—that it couldn’t be real. But the images were vivid. Too vivid. And that stranger’s face lingered in his mind like a thorn, one that kept twisting deeper the longer he stared.

“Calm down,” he whispered to himself. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

But even as he said it, doubt began to creep in, its weight sinking into his bones.

1 Hour in:

The room felt too quiet. Aizawa’s arms were folded across his chest, fingers digging into his biceps as if holding himself together. His breathing remained slow and steady, but his mind was anything but calm.

He dragged a chair to the center of the room and sat down, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto the photos with an intensity that could shatter glass. His heart thumped heavily, though he kept his expression neutral—detached, even.

Why does this bother me? It shouldn’t. He was supposed to be in control, wasn’t he? Control was everything to him.

But every time he looked at those pictures, the control slipped. The sight of you smiling for someone else? It made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat.

Did you really let someone touch you like that?

His hands clenched until his knuckles turned white.

“No,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. “This is fake. It has to be.”

And yet… what if it wasn’t?

3 Hours in:

The room was suffocating now, the air thick with tension and thoughts he couldn’t silence. Aizawa ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. His usual calm demeanor was unraveling, thread by thread.

He could still see your face—clear as day—in every image. He knew you better than anyone else. The way your eyes crinkled when you laughed. The way your voice softened when you whispered to him in the dead of night. And now that same softness was aimed at someone else.

His breath hitched as an unfamiliar emotion clawed at his chest—something ugly and desperate.

You were his anchor, the person who kept him grounded in a life that often felt like chaos. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable, twisting his insides until it hurt to breathe.

“Why would you do this?” he whispered hoarsely, gripping the edge of the chair so tightly it creaked under his weight.

Rationality told him these were just photos—edited, manipulated, false. But the images kept feeding the darkest part of his mind. The part that feared losing you. The part that whispered, What if they took you away?

6+ Hours in:

By the time six hours had passed, Aizawa was no longer sitting. He stood in front of the wall, his gaze cold and distant, as if staring through the pictures rather than at them. The calm mask he usually wore had cracked, revealing something far more dangerous underneath—possessiveness born from fear and love twisted together.

His gloved hand hovered over one of the photos, fingers brushing against your image. For a moment, his touch was soft, almost tender. But then his hand curled, crumpling the picture in a fist.

“I won’t let them have you,” he whispered, voice dark with resolve.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. He wasn’t the type to lash out impulsively, no matter how much this hurt. But he wasn’t above taking control of the situation—any way he could.

If someone thought they could take you from him, they were sorely mistaken.

Aizawa pulled his phone from his pocket, his fingers steady as he dialed your number. He knew you wouldn’t pick up—you were probably with them. But that didn’t matter. He would find you. And once he did, he would fix this.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

His lips curled into a grim smile. “We’ll talk soon,” he whispered. “And after that… you won’t need anyone else.”

He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket. His mind was already working, planning the next steps. He didn’t know if the photos were real or not, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

You were his.

And Aizawa wasn’t about to let you forget that.

The Aftermath:

When Aizawa finally found you, his expression was unreadable, as calm as ever. But the tension in his shoulders told a different story.

“You and I need to talk,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. There was no anger in his tone—just an unwavering certainty that left no room for argument.

Before you could say anything, his hand slipped around your wrist, his grip secure but not painful.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmured, his dark eyes boring into yours. “But you’re not leaving my side. Not now. Not ever.”

There was no threat in his words—just the truth, plain and simple. You belonged with him. That was all that mattered.

And in his mind, that was exactly where you would stay.

Forever.

---

[riddles-fiddles]

Can we get the dorm leaders reaction to s/o telling them that Twisted wonderland is a game in her world? She gave them plenty of proof and even showed them the game on her phone.

Riddle's confused and extremely intrigued from this piece of information

Though he's more on the confused side of things. He's not so acquainted with technology so it's a hard time for him to discern what's true or fake

And honestly, your claims are so absurd it easily slips on his side as a prank. He'll be polite and look interested the whole time, but his brain is racing against time to make reason of it all

"Cater always tells me about this 'effects' things you can add to photos and there are plenty apps for image manipulation"

Dismisses all the proof you show him as a very dedicated prank of yours, because how could he be merely an AI when he very much feels very alive? Bullshit.

He lays down on his bed for a few nights with a deep sense of dread, being unable to sleep from all the doubt that creeps on his mind. He wants to believe that it's all just a lie, but what if it isn't?

Sleeps through half your essay about how everything he knows is a lie, growing in boredom as you stubbornly shove evidence, talking like some scientist presenting a thesis

Honestly half your argument has already gone through his head at some point so he's not truly impressed

Plays it cool saying you're gone nuts and that all this magic stuff fried your brain

"Geez easy now herbivore, nothing you're blabbering about makes sense", and he looks absolutely unnafected, shrugging it off

He can't help but dwell on it for some time though, but he'll never show it on your face or hesitate for even a moment in front of anyone

No, you are the crazy one, he's very much real. His pain is real, or else all the things he feels deeply rooted on his heart wouldn't hurt this much... right?

At first he's skeptical and scoffs off at your attempts at making his mind around your little antics

He's got the mind of a businessman, he's not falling for such childish pranks, no matter how well made that photoshopped image looks. Oh, wait, it's an app? Well, you're probably just teaming up with Idia to piss him off

His interest is piqued the moment he sees the cards with his face, and as you tell him it's a gacha game, his features light up for a fraction of a second - but then he remembers that you're trying to shove some absurd nonsense down his throat. No, it's not the time for profit thinking

Though you sure did gave him an idea, and he'll be sure to talk it out to Idia some other time

Azul keeps on a composed and rational feeling to him, one he pridefully shows to everyone around him, but he's got his insecurities and doubts, and now you just sparkled something inside his heart

He can't quite grasp it, but it always leaves him choking and uncomfortable, something alike to fear and anxiety, something he used to feel when he was the pathetic little octopus with too much time alone

For the first time after many years, he finds himself pondering about life, questioning everything he knows, a sense of dread tugging at the confines of his mind. He didn't like to think that maybe you were right, that everything he might have experienced was nothing but a cruel lie

Kalim can't quite grasp the concept of his existence being literally a video game, but he's the first one to not treat it like a joke

He's very interested on everything you says naturally, but he's very impressed to know that there's a game where he is a character!

"But... y/n, how could I be a literal game character when I'm right in front of you? Doesn't that mean that you are ficitional as well?"

He laughs light-hearted, taking things surprisingly well - because he can't understand he's not truly real. No matter how many screenshots you show, his wiki page, his cards, not even playing through the whole Scarabia arch will suffice to convince him

He just thinks you're a very talented person who made the game as some kind of diary or something, being inspired by everything that happened in Night Raven College

Eventually Kalim just convinces you to brush your point off, seeing how happy and entertained he looked. Maybe it's for the best to just allow him to eat up that lie

You wouldn't want to make Kalim sad now, would you?

Vil looks at you like you have just insulted his whole bloodline and then threw all his makeup on his face

Stands there in awkward silence, processing all the information and carefully picked proof, snatching your phone to look through it

By the end of this tense moment, he shakes his head, laughing out as if finally understanding that everything was merely a joke.

But you don't laugh back, instead looking him dead in the face

Vil's unsettled by everything, from the way you look at him and the new, hard to swallow information

He asks you to go to therapy and says that he'll be more than happy to accompany you, sincerely worried about you

He doesn't want to believe the things you showed him, so just like the others, he'll just settle on the idea of you playing a prank on him for the sake of his own mental health.

Idia.exe has stopped working

"I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!" shouts out once he snaps out of his paralyzed processation so loudly you're sure everyone at NRC could hear him

He looks mortified and equally thrilled as he goes on blabbering about some underground government bullshit

Red and blue pill kinda shit, you know? Talks about simulations and how he dreamed saw the walls around his room glitch for a moment while gaming (he's sleep deprived)

Shut him up or else he'll be wailing in his fake existence and talking to you about some conspirational theories he formulated with the source of his own brain

Malleus is eerily silent as you present him with all the information you have, a perfect display of your confidence and everything that just fell right like puzzle pieces

When you're done and looks up at him, expecting an answer, he stares back, his emerald eyes deep and piercing, silently rummaging through your features though his gaze made you feel like he was reaching directly for your soul

"I know," he responds simply, an amused smile creeping between his lips

With a nod of farewell, he turns on his heels and simply leaves, unbothered to give any kind of explanation

Malleus leaves you with an existential crisis, hanging where you stood without understanding a thing

He knows? How can he know? Is he programmed to say that? Is he truly an IA?

You're not sure and will never be, because Malleus never gives you an answer eveytime you poke at the matter, simply smiling warmly before resuming to his tasks

[butwhatifidothis]

I LOVED To Be a Creature, and it genuinely creeped me out to see the things Edelgard and Hubert said to Byleth (though it's the same as the game, stripped out of its voice acting and background music, the dialogue is so much more horrifying). Really makes me wonder if Edelgard's love for Byleth is genuine in any way. Do you think there's any real love there or is it just obsession?

Thank you!!! I had a feeling that placing Edelgard and Hubert's words in a context that isn't meant to make them look flattering would really let their casual racism shine, and I'm glad it's seeming like that is in fact the impression people are getting lol. SO sorry for the late answer btw 😭😭😭

As for whether Edelgard's love is genuine... I got opinions lmao.

got a bit long lmao under the cut it goes

If Edelgard felt the way she does for Byleth on exclusively SS and CF, I could maybe see how this is a "genuine" love (insofar as a love steeped in "I may hate your race but you're special and Not Like The Other Ones because I think you're special to me" can, uh, ever be genuine, in any case). But because Edelgard still feels as strongly towards Byleth on AM and VW where she quite literally never talks to them directly in any meaningful way, it becomes waaaaay more like she's just weirdly obsessed with this person who saved her one singular time ever five years ago from an attack Edelgard set up. It makes the "love" way more forced and contrived and obviously trying to squeeze tears out of the player for standing up against the cute girly trying to murder them. Or, alternatively, it makes Edelgard come off as manipulative, saying that she just wanted to walk with Byleth and it makes her so sad to HAVE to fight Byleth because BYLETH wouldn't stand by HER - and she's saying this on AM/VW to a person she's talked to in conversation a cumulative, what? Hour? Two? Maybe a few days, being nice? Over the course of, being as absolutely generous as physically possible and not counting the five years Byleth was missing... two fucking years? She's shitting herself over fighting this stranger she doesn't fucking know? Yeah, sure buddy, whatever you say - you see what I mean?

And honestly even outside of those two routes, I think it's more that she sees Byleth as being hers rather than actually liking them for who they are. A body to stand next to her and tell her how right she is and comfort her - who doesn't have the background of "I was literally raised to think this is my only purpose in life" muddying the sincerity of the brown-nosing - who also happens to also act as The Perfect Fighter and The Perfect Strategist to actively help her get what she wants. That view of Byleth being a tool doesn't really go away unless they marry her, seen by how they quite literally get nothing for all they've done for Edelgard should they go unmarried to a noble (guess they just weren't meritable enough once their use to her was done).

As well as how much more Edelgard doesn't like Byleth disagreeing with her or otherwise going against her flow than pretty much anyone else in the game - you lose supports points if you don't think the Black Eagle Strike Force name she made is good, she quickly denies the notion that Byleth isn't detached from others/emotions and insists they are just like she is, she gives them the same callous and thoughtless words she was apparently given once in her life while they are in the midst of mourning their recently murdered father so that they get over it already and get back to being useful to her (directly saying she will only reach out her hand when it's time for HER to move forward, not when BYLETH heals from WATCHING THEIR DAD DIE IN THEIR FUCKING ARMS MAYBE A WEEK AGO). She never treats Byleth kindly unless they do everything she wants, which like. Isn't love???? At all????

There's just this... weirdly possessive air Edelgard has around Byleth that always threw me off, especially with how easily she admits to have been willing to kill them so far into CF and how readily she cuts ties with them the second the fighting's done (which is particular because how just how clingy she was to Byleth everywhere else - you know during all that time Byleth had a use to her). Incorporating that into being an intentional part of her character is certainly interesting, but not in a way that's flattering to the idea of Edelgard genuinely being in love with Byleth lmao.

Personally tho, even disregarding almost everything else, the simple explanation is that I don't think you can really sit there and say you love someone while openly hating part of their racial heritage. Wild thought, I know lmao

[sophie1973]

Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @suseagull04 today. Thank you !

Here is a snippet of my WIP 'Wait for me (To come home) which I will start posting on September 27.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Claremont-Diaz,”  “Mrs. Carter,” he greets her. Henry notices with a faint contentment that he doesn’t tell her to call him Alex. “I don’t believe we had an appointment, right? Is Jack alright?” The woman's eyes dart between Alex and Henry, poorly concealing her curiosity. "Oh yes, he’s perfectly fine," she says with a fond look at her pomeranian. “I saw you and just wanted to say hi.” She lingers a moment longer than necessary, her gaze inquisitive.

After a brief exchange about Jack’s well-being, Mrs. Carter moves on, but not before throwing one last speculative glance over her shoulder. As soon as she's out of earshot, Alex lets out a small chuckle. “That was Janet Carter,” Alex explains, a hint of amusement in his voice. "She's the town's unofficial gossip center. By tomorrow, everyone will know that Dr. Claremont-Diaz was having lunch in the square with a handsome stranger." Henry feels a blush creeping up his neck. "Oh, I... I'm sorry. I hope I haven't caused any trouble for you." Alex waves off his concern. "Don't sweat it. Small-town life, you know? People love a bit of excitement." A moment of silence settles between them, and Henry finds himself grappling with a question that's been nagging at him. Aiming for nonchalance, he ventures, "I wouldn't want to cause any trouble with a... significant other." Smooth, Fox. Real smooth. Alex's eyes lock onto Henry's, a flicker of something indefinable dancing in their depths. "Henry, I clock 65 hours a week at the clinic. I've yet to meet anyone willing to put up with that schedule," he says, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "So, no. No girlfriend or boyfriend." He punctuates this with a meaningful look that sets Henry's pulse racing. Message received, loud and clear.

Tagging with no pressure : @onthewaytosomewhere @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @firenati0n

@thighzp @14carrotghoul @taste-thewaste @bitbybitwrites

@blueeyedgrlwrites @kj-bee @wordsofhoneydew @whoevenknows-things

@porcelainmortal @caterpills @thesleepyskipper @milowren29

@priincebutt @iboatedhere @magicmelinoe @theprinceandagcd

[weebsinstash]

I have some more ideas, observations, and thoughts to drop before Hazbin is officially here tomorrow!

-Vox's blue fingertips are sharp metal claws and they make audible clinking noises when he touches certain things with them. It makes me curious about the composition of his body but... nice detail

-oh so you're telling me Vox can enter security cameras and warp around and also teleport short distances like he's Tracer, ok, ok, he definitely is primo stalker material, you could literally have this man warp to your location if he really really wanted to find you

-seeing Vox handle Valentino and know how to calm him down (which was kinda sexy ngl) gives me big BIG "Vox would want to keep you for himself but if you ever run away or threaten to leave him he'll threaten to bring Val into the mix to intimidate you into obedience" vibes. You're halfway down the block from like escaping out a window and suddenly your phone turns itself on and you hear Vox say "Valentino is still asleep. If i dont see you don't turn around in 5 seconds I'm gonna wake him up and he's going to be REAL hungover while I tell him you left" and you do a u-turn on the sidewalk right then and there because, Vox might take away privileges and confine you, but Val is the one who's more likely to get physically violent or at the very least yell and scream at you

-ughhhh I just really like the idea of Reader actually getting to be like his platonic friend or secret crush and you're running around as like either his own PA or even his co-host and, you're just a positive influence in his life, he likes you, spending time with you, like you guys hang out outside of work, and eventually having you hang around so much catches Val's eye. He sees Vox talk casually to you and suddenly is overwhelmed with curiosity on who tf you are and is maybe a little jealous his man seems more than comfortable around you

honestly just platonic/genuinely cares for you yandere Vox who hides you away from Valentino when our favorite moth starts being a creep. You tell Vox ONE TIME that Val cracked a joke about you throwing neck for him when your boss left the room and Vox is sure never to leave you alone with Val ever again

-I just see like in some noncon poly scenario where you get passed between them like a blunt that there would still be hard lines Vox hopefullyyy wouldn't let Val cross? Like you start hysterically crying one day, "do YOU think I'm ugly Vox?!" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Val wants me to have cosmetic surgery! He gave me a list of all the work he wants to have done!" and you hand him like a literal actual list in very familiar pink handwriting and here's Vox, forcing a smile, "hm! Gonna be right back!" and he leaves the room and like in 10 seconds flat you hear them roaring at each other from the other side of the house and Vox zooms back, "hey, great news! You aren't having surgery" and it's never brought up again

-also as an end note. Reader who winds up having the same body type as one of Velvet's models and she snags you from Vox or Valentino one day to have you try on something and you become her like. Her new favorite little pincushion she likes to try new ideas on. You're just minding your own business and she's barging into the room with sudden inspiration and she's, doing her little finger waggle and changing your clothes without your consent, potentially making you half naked or explicitly dressed in front of your male companions or anyone else around

I'm just definitely looking to watching the show and seeing more of everyone in full ^^

[ghcstao3]

Absolutely loosing it over the idea of Ghost sneaking around to see what Soap is doing on leave. He gets jealous/insecure seeing him set up a date/picnic etc. Can't get it out of his head, has to know who John is getting things for. Stalking only for Soap to call out to Ghost while hes waiting-

"'Knew you were here the whole time, Lt. Join me? I brought tea." (or something along those lines).

-🤺

what a silly thing for ghost to do. also so real. love it

-

Ghost hadn't ever thought of himself as the jealous type until he met John "Soap" MacTavish.

Truly, he hadn't ever had reason to be the jealous type before Soap. Nor does he now, really, but of course the man who brings out the best in Ghost also has to bring out the very green-eyed worst. It's upsetting.

And impossible to ignore.

His envy begins with smaller things, like the casual touches Soap offers to just about anyone, or the smile he always seems to be wearing when Ghost wishes it were just him such a thing was reserved for. It's an ugly feeling that only grows worse with time—but what else can Ghost do but stand in the sidelines and feel miserable for himself? Soap has always and will always deserve better than Ghost.

But even if Ghost's jealousy gets to the point where it's a constant, overbearing presence, he does his best to manage it well. He does manage it well.

On base, that is. Surrounded by other soldiers, his colleagues, and always with something more important to do, Ghost is able to tame the beast that Soap has brought life to.

Then they're sent on leave. Horrible, ever-dreaded leave. The entire 141, including Price for once. And suddenly Ghost's envy cannot be shoved aside for menial tasks and conversation, not for long, at least. Being on his own doesn't bode well.

So he decides he'd visit Soap. Sort of.

The train ticket booking is on impulse. Ghost finds a hotel room even knowing where Soap lives, because he doesn't know if Soap would want to see him.

He's... pathetic, really. Utterly hopeless.

By the time he's mustered any courage to actually show up at Soap's front door, Ghost happens upon the man on his convoluted route there.

Well, happens upon is a strong term. It's more like Ghost sees Soap from afar, sitting on a park bench with his journal, and plants himself far enough that Soap wouldn't see him, but Ghost would still be able to watch.

Forgive him, for being so nosy.

Ghost isn't sure what overcomes him, when Soap eventually stands and Ghost rises, too. He isn't sure what overcomes him when he waits a few seconds before continuing to follow, to lurk like a complete creep. But he does, anyway. Until he snaps out of whatever stupid trance he's in, turns tail and heads back to the hotel.

It doesn't stop that day, though. He figures Soap might frequent the park, knowing the sergeant and his love for any sort of outdoors—and Ghost is easily proven right, as he watches Soap set up at the same bench with his journal the very next day.

He's curious, alright? Nothing more—until jealousy flares through him with the easy smiles Soap offers passersby. Until Ghost is envious of whatever kind greetings Soap offers those same people with that accent Ghost had grown to love even in spite of the nonsense Soap sometimes spoke.

Until a young woman, beautiful and surely Soap's type, joins him on the bench and makes Soap laugh. Until Soap is happily showing her whatever is in his journal and talks to her for ages.

Ghost leaves the park first, that time. But he comes back the next day, and the next. It's the same thing, minus the woman, until one day Soap isn't at the bench. Instead, he's laid out a blanket on the green and is unpacking enough food for two from a plain rucksack.

Ghost doesn't know when, but he creeps closer. He still stays out of sight—God forbid Soap see his lieutenant stalking him—but close enough that he can make out the things Soap has brought. Close enough that he can see the vague shapes of sketches Soap is still endeavouring to draw before whoever he's surely waiting for arrives.

Which is too close, apparently.

"LT," Soap is suddenly calling out. He hasn't so much as looked up from his journal. "I know you're here, ya numpty."

Ghost hesitates a long while, the kind of hesitation that would get him killed on the field. But here, it only stretches on an awkwardness Ghost had hoped never to face. To never have to admit he'd been observing Soap, his subordinate, from afar because he was jealous.

But Soap is patient as Ghost gradually makes his way to the blanket. He doesn't sit right away, however, even when Soap prompts him.

"Aren't you waiting on someone?" Ghost asks. He prays he sounds impassive enough, but he can't help the tinge of bitterness that seeps into his voice.

Soap shakes his head. "Unless I count you," he says. "C'mon, Simon, sit. I brought more than enough for the both of us."

Ghost complies, dropping cautiously across from Soap, staring owlishly at the sergeant who seems far too casual about all of this.

"You're not going to ask?"

Again, Soap shakes his head. "If I wanted to know on my terms, I woulda walked over to you the first day I saw you at the park. Now, I dinnae have much tea at home, so I hope what I brought'll do."

Soap continues to chatter away to both himself and Ghost while he shoves food and drink in Ghost's direction. Ghost just sits in disbelief before he's able to settle.

But once he realizes that the green-eyed monster has finally backed away for once, Ghost allows himself to just enjoy Soap's company, before he thinks to answer any questions and ruin this peace. He has the sergeant to himself, for this one moment, and, really, it's all he's ever been needing.