#this is a genuine question i’m so confused

[evajzcks]

between light and shadow ── tom riddle

summary: you ran away after discovering you were pregnant during your final year at hogwarts. three years later, you and your son are in danger, and to protect your child, you must return to him, your past lover, tom riddle.

warnings: tom riddle x reader, the timeline is a mess, both tom and reader are 21 in this

word count: 1,8k

the grand dining hall of the manor was illuminated by a cascade of floating candles, their warm glow contrasting with the heavy, imposing decor. you entered with mattheo’s hand in yours, the little boy wide-eyed as he marveled at the room’s grandeur.

tom was already seated at the head of the table, his piercing gaze softening slightly as he saw them approach. he gestured to the seats beside him and mattheo immediately climbed onto the one closest to tom.

“is this where you always eat?” mattheo asked, his voice filled with innocent curiosity as he looked at the vast table.

tom’s brow furrowed, clearly unprepared for the child’s inquisitiveness. “most of the time,” he replied carefully, his deep voice tinged with an awkward stiffness.

“do you eat alone?” mattheo pressed, his head tilted.

tom hesitated. “yes.”

“that’s sad,” mattheo said matter-of-factly, his bluntness drawing a stifled laugh from you. you quickly masked it with a sip of water, though your eyes sparkled with amusement.

tom shot you a look that was equal parts exasperated and confused before turning back to mattheo. “it’s… practical.”

“what’s practical?” mattheo asked, his small face scrunched in concentration.

tom blinked, clearly unused to being questioned so persistently. “it means… useful. efficient.”

mattheo nodded solemnly, as if tom had just imparted a great wisdom. “do you like being alone?”

this time, tom hesitated longer, his gaze flicking to you as though searching for an answer. you raised an eyebrow, smirking at his discomfort.

“sometimes,” he finally said, his tone quieter.

mattheo tilted his head again. “do you have any friends?”

you nearly choked on your water, quickly covering your mouth to suppress the laugh threatening to escape. tom’s lips twitched, his patience wearing thin.

“i have… associates,” he answered stiffly.

“what’s an associate?”

you let out a soft giggle, unable to hold it in any longer. “mattheo, darling, why don’t we let mr. riddle eat his dinner in peace?”

“but I like asking questions,” mattheo said, looking genuinely puzzled by your suggestion.

“and mr. riddle isn’t very good at answering them,” you teased, your grin widening as you met tom’s glare.

tom’s jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—an unfamiliar warmth, even as he fought to maintain his composure.

“perhaps i’m simply not accustomed to interrogations during meals,” he said, his tone dry but lacking his usual sharp edge.

“that’s because you’re not used to dining with company,” you quipped, reaching over to ruffle mattheo’s curls.

tom watched them, his gaze lingering on you as you laughed with their son. for a moment, the cold, calculating mask he always wore seemed to slip. he looked almost…human.

“mattheo,” he said, his voice softer now, “do you enjoy living here?”

the little boy shrugged. “it’s okay but mama says we won’t stay forever.”

you stiffened slightly, your eyes darting to tom, who had gone very still. his gaze was sharp as he turned to you, the unspoken question clear in his expression.

“we’ll discuss that later,” you said quickly, your tone firm as you focused on your plate.

mattheo looked between them, clearly sensing the tension but too young to understand its weight. “i like the library,” he said cheerfully, breaking the silence. “it has so many books! did you read all of them?”

tom’s lips curved into a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “most of them.”

“wow,” mattheo said, his admiration genuine. “can you show me which ones are the best?”

“perhaps tomorrow,” tom replied, his voice softer now, though his gaze remained locked on you.

as the meal went on, mattheo’s questions continued, ranging from “do you like cats?” to, “if you’re so tall, can you touch the sky?”. you found yourself laughing more than you had in months, your heart lightened by your son’s innocence.

but every now and then, you would catch tom watching you, his dark eyes unreadable. you couldn’t tell if he was irritated by mattheo’s endless chatter or if he was quietly mourning the time he had lost with his son.

as they finished dessert, mattheo yawned, his head nodding sleepily against your arm.

“i think someone’s ready for bed,” you said, smiling as she scooped him up into her arms.

“goodnight, mr. riddle,” mattheo mumbled, his eyes half-closed as he rested his head on your shoulder

tom nodded, his gaze following them as you carried mattheo out of the dining hall.

when they were gone, tom leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty space where they had been. he was unaccustomed to the warmth that had settled in his chest during the meal, and he didn’t know whether to embrace it or push it away.

all he knew was that y/n and mattheo had a way of making him feel things he thought he had buried long ago—and it terrified him.

tom sat in silence for a long moment, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the table. his thoughts swirled with confusion and something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. the little scene with you and mattheo had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.

he had lived his life by control, by power—everything within his grasp, manipulated and ordered. but tonight, with mattheo’s innocent questions, the laughter in y/n’s voice, and the unspoken bond between them, it was as though everything he thought he knew had been turned upside down. the reality that he had a son—his son—was still too raw to fully comprehend.

he hadn’t expected this. he hadn’t expected them to feel so… normal. so human.

“this isn’t what i wanted for you,” he whispered to himself, though the words were not directed at anyone in particular.

what was it about you? why did you make him feel things no one else could? the thought lingered in his mind, clinging to him like a shadow. even as his cold, calculating side tried to push it away, something in him resisted, drawn to the warmth you provided despite everything.

minutes passed, and eventually, he stood up, smoothing down the fabric of his robes. his fingers brushed the edge of his wine glass, but he didn’t drink—he wasn’t thirsty. his mind was elsewhere.

fhe sound of mattheo’s soft laughter echoed faintly from the hall as you tucked him into bed, and for a brief moment, tom considered going to check on you—just to see, just to… but the thought vanished quickly, replaced by a sharp twinge of anger.

what would it even mean? to go to you now, to step into their world? was he really ready to acknowledge the life he had never asked for, yet was bound to in a way he could never escape?

he needed to focus, to remember his purpose. his empire, his power—those things mattered, didn’t they? everything else was secondary. everything else was just a distraction.

and yet, the more he tried to focus on his plans, on his goals, the more mattheo’s innocent voice echoed in his mind, asking questions about cats, the sky, and his tallness. it’s ridiculous. he wasn’t even sure how to answer a question like that, but the way mattheo had looked up at him with such trust—it had nearly broken him.

when you returned to the dining hall later, your footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floor, you found tom standing by the grand windows, looking out over the darkened grounds. the moonlight cast long shadows, the silence in the room almost suffocating.

you watched him for a moment before speaking. “you’re thinking too much, tom.”

he didn’t turn, but you could hear the soft exhale of air he released in response.

“i always think,” he replied, his voice low.

you took a few steps toward him, pausing just behind him. for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to watch the way the light hit his profile—the way the years had shaped him, the hard edge of his jawline that once seemed so cold, now softened in the moonlight. despite everything, despite his darkness, there was still something that called to you.

“i didn’t expect mattheo to… be so curious,” he said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. “he doesn’t fear me like everyone else does.”

you took a breath, your hands folding in front of you “he’s just a child, tom. he sees the world through different eyes.”

“i suppose.” his voice was distant, but you could feel the tension building in him. “i didn’t expect him to want to talk to me.”

“he’s a little like you,” you remarked, your voice soft. “he doesn’t know any better.”

tom looked at you then, the intensity in his gaze sharper than you remembered. “and you? do you still think of me as someone who can be reasoned with?” he asked, his tone suddenly more biting.

your chest tightened, but you met his gaze steadily. “i think of you as a lot of things, tom,” you replied, your voice calm. “but the truth is… you’re not the person i thought you were. you’re not who you showed me you were back then.”

his eyes darkened, but you noticed the flicker of hesitation before he spoke again. “what does that mean?”

“it means that i’m not so sure about you anymore,” you said, your words carrying the weight of the past three years of uncertainty, fear, and betrayal. “you’ve changed… but so have i.”

tom’s gaze hardened, and he took a step closer to you, his presence consuming the space between you. “you still think i’m capable of the things i’ve done,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “of course, you do.”

“i think you’re capable of more,” you answered, your voice steady. “but that doesn’t mean i trust you.”

tom’s jaw clenched, but there was something else there, something unreadable in his eyes.

“i never wanted you to trust me,” he said, his voice softer now. “i wanted you to understand me.”

you looked at him for a long moment, your heart heavy. “i don’t understand you, tom,” you admitted quietly. “i don’t think I ever will.”

there was silence then, a pregnant pause between them as the distance stretched thin, and yet, despite everything that had happened, there was something that lingered in the air—something neither of them could quite grasp. tom’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for you, but he held back.

and in that moment, you realized that you might never truly understand tom—you might never be able to. but perhaps, just perhaps, that was the very thing that made him so dangerous.

this is my christmas present to y’all. got so excited writing this that I already wrote the part 2 but i might only publish it in 3 days!!!!! please never forget to tell me about your thoughts!!!

[lune-moon-nuit]

Thoughts about Mike I had last week while watching the middle of season 4

While watching Season 4 last week (yes, I’m extremely late to the party), I’m truly astonished at how misunderstood Mike is by much of the fandom and the general audience. It’s clear that Mike from Seasons 3 and 4 often comes across as an awkward idiot who can hurt others with his words or actions—particularly Will and El. This starkly contrasts with how he behaved in Seasons 1 and 2. However, it seems people overlook an important factor: Mike is now a teenager. A teenager who already carries a significant amount of trauma yet isn’t in a position to complain, because he has always been the friend or boyfriend supporting the “main victim” of the story.

Mike was traumatized by Will’s disappearance, by the abnormal events and creatures that turned their lives and town upside down. He has witnessed countless deaths—just in the episode I recently finished in Season 4, he literally watched a government agent die right in front of him after barely surviving a shootout, and he even helped bury the body himself alongside Jonathan, Will and Argyle. Let’s not forget that Mike has also come close to death multiple times. The list of what he’s endured is long. Yet through all of it, he was just a child, then a teenager.

While it’s true he’s sometimes hurtful or clumsy in his behavior toward El—primarily out of awkwardness—people forget that this is his first romantic relationship. And not just any relationship: one forged under extraordinary circumstances. El herself couldn’t initially distinguish between familial love and romantic love, and Mike was subtly pushed into seeing El romantically, thanks to a heteronormative society and remarks like Lucas’s, which suggested a boy taking care of a girl must mean he “likes” her. After all, in such an environment, a boy and girl can’t just share a bond of care without romantic undertones.

Another critical detail the fandom seems to overlook relates to Will. In Season 1, at just 10 to 12 years old, Mike had suicidal thoughts. He literally jumped off a cliff, unaware that El would use her powers to save him. He had no idea. He made a deliberate choice to jump, hiding behind the bully’s threat toward Dustin. But let’s be honest—anyone with a natural survival instinct wouldn’t so easily choose to leap to their death, even under pressure. Mike knew he had no chance of surviving that fall. It was deliberate.

So we must ask: What drives a 12-year-old boy to feel so hopeless, despite having friends and a family who love him? By now, we know that Mike, alongside Will, was a target of relentless bullying, much of it homophobic. Even Mike’s father made homophobic remarks in Season 1, adding pressure that Mike likely didn’t fully comprehend. At the cliffside, hope for finding Will alive was nearly gone. Mike had lost all hope. I genuinely believe that for him to have reached that point, the weight of his struggles was far heavier than we realized.

Mike has suffered immensely. He was already dealing with significant psychological distress in Season 1, which continued to accumulate. In Season 1, his focus was on finding Will. In Season 2, it was on protecting and saving Will. In Season 3, he acted like a “normal” teenager, but he was still targeted—being threatened violently by an adult who lashed out simply because Mike was behaving like any other boyfriend with El. Instead of questioning the why behind his actions, people just blamed him. In Season 4, rather than asking why Mike struggles to express his love for El, the audience blames him for supposedly not loving her enough.

But if Mike is confused—if he struggles to articulate his feelings—why is that? Mike has always been the devoted friend and boyfriend, but the series rarely highlights the immense psychological toll this has taken on him. His reactions, in truth, are quite logical and normal. Especially when you consider the more-than-plausible theory that Mike is either bisexual or homosexual. His internalized homophobia, combined with societal pressure in the 1980s, the fear of judgment, the fear of himself, and his confusion about his own feelings, all align perfectly with his behavior in Seasons 3 and 4. After all, adolescence is when most people begin to explore their sexual identity, desire, and emotions.

Take his words to Will, where he mentions their meeting in kindergarten as “the best thing that ever happened to him.”Mike’s connection to Will is profound. But being a gay teenager in the 1980s—while also not wanting to hurt El, whom he deeply cares for and feels responsible toward—would mean he’s carrying immense self-hatred, frustration, anger, fear, anxiety, depression, guilt, and the overwhelming sense of being “wrong” (a feeling Will also experiences).

All of this makes me believe that Season 5 could greatly benefit from focusing on Mike by making him Vecna’s target. Vecna would have plenty to exploit: Mike’s traumas, his unspoken suffering, and his struggles with his sexuality. It would be a perfect way to force Mike to confront who he is and what he feels for Will—while also allowing Will to learn the truth. Such a storyline would introduce rich internal conflict, both for Mike and for their relationship.

Considering how explicitly queer-coded Mike is in Season 4, it would be an enormous waste not to explore this as a central narrative thread in Season 5. Doing so would not only bring Will and Mike’s relationship to the forefront but would also give us a deeper look into Mike’s psyche—all the pain he has endured silently, all the while remaining loyal and supportive toward Will and El. Mike has worried for them, searched for them, protected them, and fought for them. It’s time the series recognizes that, even without powers, Mike is the heart of the group. Without him, everything falls apart.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

are we going to find a hockey!peter angsty (like when him and bug are still kinda hate fucking) under our tree?

Pick Up

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: giving peter a taste of his own medicine feels good.

✰ warnings: language, angst, fluff, sexual innuedos at the end, a deep kiss.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

i think santa left this under your tree ;).

gif by @ddlovatosrps

The chilled air inside the rink sniped at your cheeks, but the fire that sparked through your nerves kept your body warm. 

You were practically seething in anger, and yet no one knew. You always tried to keep your calm, but when it came to Peter? He made it close to impossible. 

It was hard to be upset at Peter while watching him play. The crowd surrounding him adored him. You would go far enough to say that some girls would kill to be in your position. Who wouldn’t want to keep ‘hockey captain’ Peter’s bed warm? 

At this point? You wouldn’t, and you wish you never did. 

 Your mind was completely distracted until the last second of the previous period. Another win for Peter, of course. After parting with the opposing team and celebrating with his teammates, he liked to make his way to the glass, greeting you and making sure you met with him outside of the locker room. 

But as he was scanning the bleachers for the jersey you always wore, you weren’t there. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, only to see you already at the exit, shoving open the door. Clearing his throat, he tries to throw away the odd feeling of disappointment. 

The both of you were trying to walk as fast as possible, only you were walking home while Peter was trying to catch you before you made it far. The speed he undressed and packed all of his things was astonishing, and his teammates questioned his haste on his way out. Peter carried a look of determination on his face, making them step out of his way. 

As you were weaving through the cars in the parking lot, you mentally cursed the size of the lot. You swore you were walking as fast as possible, yet the main street was still so far away. “Bug,” a voice yelled out behind you. Your body tenses for a second, knowing who is calling out for you. Yet, you refuse to turn around, pretending to not hear him. 

Peter calls out for you again, this time, his voice is louder. You barely have time to take another breath as he suddenly appears next to you. Looking over at him, he’s out of breath. He’s the last person you wanted to see, “What.” You didn’t phrase it as a question. You were genuinely looking for the quickest way out of this conversation as fast as possible. 

“I didn’t see you at the glass,” he pauses, “or outside the locker room.” 

“Mhm,” you nod, letting him put in the work for once. 

Peter’s getting fed up with your attitude. He’s trying to get to the bottom of it and you’re not making it easy. He huffs out a frustrated laugh, “And why’s that, bug?” A hint of irritation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. 

A flicker of satisfaction makes your body tingle. It feels nice knowing that you’re the one playing with Peter’s mind. It almost makes you giggle. Biting your lip, you cut him some slack. “Someone was supposed to pick me up from the train station today,” you sigh dramatically, “but they didn’t; so I had to find a ride. Can you believe it?” You were milking it, but you couldn’t stop now.

“Fuck, I am so sorry–,” you grab his arm, silencing him. 

“Why are you apologizing, Petey? Unless you were the one who had to pick me up? That couldn’t be you, because you wouldn’t forget,” you were almost at the point of yelling at this point, causing the people around you to stare. Letting go of his arm, you smile sweetly before starting to walk away from him. 

“(Y/N),” he reaches for your hand, “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” You stop as he holds your hand before he pulls you closer to him. You don’t dare look at him, your eyes avoiding any sort of contact with his. You’ve made it this far. Don’t crack now. 

A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips, “You’re funny if you think you’re getting another chance to make it up.” Your body is screaming to wriggle out of his soft hold and walk away, but you remain there. And you mentally cursed yourself for it. 

Peter’s searching for your eyes, the eyes he loved. He remembers how quickly your eyes switched from soft to fierce, and he loves that about you. You could never hide your true feelings from your eyes, they seemed to give you away every single time. “Cmon bug,” he places two fingers under your chin, revealing your irritated expression, “that’s not true, and you know it.”

You sharply move your chin from his touch, rolling your eyes in the process, “Fuck you.” 

He wraps an arm around the back of your neck, effectively pulling you into his chest, and planting a kiss to the crown of your head. “I wasn’t saying all that to make you feel better by the way,” he mutters into your scalp, “I will make it up to you.”

Tilting your head up and away from his shirt, you look up at him. You still have an obvious pout on your face, “You promise?”

Peter laughs and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls you in tight as he deepens the kiss. Pulling away he looks at your lips and then up to your eyes, “I promise, bug. I can even start tonight.” 

“Well then we better hurry home,” you smirk. 

Peter reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his car keys. That stupid boyish smile on his face, reaching his eyes.

✰ author's note: HI YALLL!!! you guys can't get enough of hockey peter and i understand (what did i create). ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS FOR THOSE WHO CELEBRATE!!! and happy holidays for those that don't!!! extending all my love to everyone this holiday season!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! send in more requests and asks if you would like :) till next time, byeeee.

[the-offside-rule]

Lance Stroll (Aston Martin) - Happy Hanukkah

Day 24 of Christmas

Prompt: The Differences in Christmas

25 Days Of Christmas

Y/n was filled with excitement as she stepped off the plane, a flurry of anticipation swirling around her. Christmas was just around the corner, and she was invited to spend the holidays with her boyfriend, Lance, at his family home. As she arrived, she took in the lavish surroundings, the elegant decorations, and the warm, inviting atmosphere that enveloped her. As she settled in, she stumbled into the living room, looking confused at how bare it looked and wondering why there was no tree.

"Lance?" She called out, looking around. Lance peeped in. "Where’s your Christmas tree?" Lance chuckled softly, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Y/n, I’m Jewish, remember?" He replied gently, his smile reassuring. "We don’t have a Christmas tree." Her face flushed in realization. "Oh! Right! I completely forgot." She admitted, laughing at her own oversight. "So what do you do instead?"

Lance was more than happy to explain. "Well, we celebrate Hanukkah instead." He said simply. "It’s a festival of lights. We light the menorah, play dreidel, and eat traditional foods. It’s a little different from Christmas, but it’s just as special in its own way." Y/n listened intently, fascinated by the rich traditions he described. "What kind of foods?" She asked, her curiosity piqued. "Latkes, which are potato pancakes, and sufganiyot, which are jelly-filled donuts." He explained, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the treats. "We’ll make some together!" The thought of spending time with Lance in the kitchen made her heart flutter. "I can’t wait to try them!" She said enthusiastically.

The next morning, Y/n and Lance were in the kitchen, the warm scent of donuts lingering in the air. "I just need to grab something from upstairs." She said, wiping her hands on a towel. As she made her way through the expansive house, she stumbled upon a door that was slightly ajar. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peeked inside. It was Lawrence’s office, filled with books and family photos. One picture caught her eye: a younger Lance beaming as he helped his father prepare food for the final day of Hanukkah.

"Oh! I’m so sorry!" Y/n exclaimed, stepping back. "I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just exploring and got lost." Lawrence looked up, a friendly smile on his face. "No problem at all, Y/n. You can join me if you'd like." He invited, motioning for her to sit down. "I was just reminiscing about those days. Lance loved helping out in the kitchen." Y/n felt at ease as she sat down, her initial embarrassment fading away. "He told me you celebrate Hanukkah. I’d love to hear more about it, I just don't wanna annoy him with all the questions I'm asking about it."

Lawrence was more than willing to share. He talked about the significance of the menorah, the stories behind each night of Hanukkah, and how the family would gather to celebrate together. The conversation flowed easily, and Y/n felt grateful for the insight.

Just then, Lance walked by, overhearing snippets of their conversation. He paused, feeling a swell of pride as he watched his dad share their family traditions with her. “Dad, what are you telling her?” He called out, playfully suspicious. "Just some stories about your childhood." Lawrence replied with a grin. "Did know your girlfriend is curious about our traditions?" Lance smiled, his heart swelling. "I’ll take her to the airport to pick up Chloe and Scotty. She can learn more about Hanukkah from them!"

On the car ride to the airport, Y/n leaned back in her seat, looking out the window as the scenery rushed by. Lance glanced over at her, a content smile on his face. "Are you finding everything okay?" He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. "Oh, I’m loving it!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "Your dad told me so much about Hanukkah. It’s all so interesting!" Lance’s heart skipped a beat. He thought to himself, I’ve definitely found the one. They arrived at the airport and helped bring the bags back to the car. Y/n chatted animatedly with Chloe and Scotty as they walked ahead, while Lance lagged behind, soaking in the happiness of the moment.

As they loaded the car, Chloe turned to Lance with a knowing smile. "This is the happiest I’ve seen you in a while." She remarked. "It’s because I’ve realized I’ve found the one." Lance replied, a serious note in his voice. Chloe rolled her eyes playfully. "You’ve said that about the last two girlfriends, and we all know how that ended."

"Yeah, but this time it’s different, and I know I've said thay before too, but I mean it this tims." He insisted, his gaze locked on Y/n, who was laughing with Scotty.

Once they were back in the car, they turned on the radio, and Christmas songs filled the air. Y/n joined in, singing off-key but with pure joy, and Lance couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Chloe watched them, feeling a warmth in her heart, like when she and Scotty started dating and still to this day felt. She finally understood what Lance had been saying; he had found someone special.

*please lmk if there are any mistakes! This is just the understanding I have from my Jewish friend about Hanukkah*

[ducksido]

When two become three.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ .·:·.*✧.·:·.*✧.·:·.*═╗

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the Ramshackle Dorm, casting long shadows across the cluttered living room. You, Y/N, were sitting comfortably on the couch, with Deuce seated beside you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders. You both had been dating for a few weeks now, and though things were still new, everything felt natural.

"Hey, Deuce," you said with a soft smile, leaning into him. "Do you want to go to the library later? I need to get some extra studying done."

Deuce, ever the diligent student, nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! We can study together. I’ll bring snacks, too."

As the two of you chatted, the door to the dorm creaked open. Ace Trappola, ever the troublemaker, walked in with his usual grin plastered on his face. But today, there was something off about him. His eyes flickered to the two of you on the couch, and for the briefest moment, you caught a glimpse of something… hurt?

"Ace, you okay?" you asked, noticing his hesitation.

Ace didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he just dropped his bag onto the floor with a frustrated sigh. "I’m fine, just tired," he muttered, but his tone was flat. He avoided meeting your eyes, focusing on the floor.

You glanced at Deuce, who seemed to notice the tension too, but didn't say anything. Ace had always been unpredictable, but lately, his behavior seemed… different. Almost as if something was gnawing at him.

"You sure?" you pressed, standing up and taking a few steps toward him. "You look upset."

"Yeah, well, maybe I am," Ace snapped, his voice sharper than usual. "Maybe I’m just tired of seeing you two being all lovey-dovey all the time."

You froze at his words, your heart sinking. Ace’s jealousy was nothing new—he’d always been a bit dramatic when it came to matters of the heart—but hearing him say it so openly stung. "Ace, what are you talking about?"

Deuce’s face flushed with discomfort, but he stood up, stepping closer to you. "Ace, that’s not fair. You know Y/N and I—"

"No, Deuce," Ace interrupted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I’m talking about how you two are always together, how you’re always so happy. And here I am, stuck watching it all like some idiot."

You took a step back, understanding suddenly dawning on you. Ace had feelings for both you and Deuce. It made sense now—the way he’d act all carefree and flirtatious, but it never felt genuine. It was his way of hiding the truth, even from himself.

"I didn’t know you felt like this, Ace," you said softly. "I thought we were just friends."

"Yeah, well," Ace muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets, "sometimes friends want more than that, but they never get it."

The room fell silent. Deuce looked at you, his eyes full of confusion and concern. He seemed to understand, but the situation was too complicated. The three of you stood there, the air thick with unspoken words.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ..☆: ───

Days passed, and things between the three of you remained awkward. Ace kept his distance, acting out in small, passive-aggressive ways. He would crack jokes at your expense, sometimes deliberately trying to make you feel guilty. Deuce, for his part, tried to keep the peace, but even he couldn’t ignore the growing tension.

One evening, after a particularly tense lunch in the cafeteria, you and Deuce found yourselves alone in the hallway. "I don’t like seeing Ace like this," Deuce confessed, his voice low. "He’s always been… well, difficult, but this is different."

"I know," you replied, running a hand through your hair. "I don’t want to hurt him, but I also don’t want to give up what we have."

"Y/N," Deuce said gently, turning to face you, "do you think Ace might… might feel something for both of us?"

The question hung in the air, and you felt your stomach twist. "I think he does. I think he’s been hiding it for a while."

"But he’s not saying anything, and he’s pushing us away," Deuce added. "I don’t know how to fix this."

You sighed, feeling conflicted. The last thing you wanted was to lose either of them, but the situation was tearing you apart. "Maybe… maybe we need to talk to him. All three of us. Honestly. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s been holding something back."

Deuce met your gaze, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Yeah… maybe we need to be honest with each other. We’ve always been able to talk, so why not now?"

=─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ..☆: ───

That evening, the three of you found yourselves sitting in the Ramshackle Dorm, a heavy silence hanging between you. Ace slouched on the couch, staring at his hands, while Deuce sat next to you, his hand resting on your knee in silent support. You took a deep breath.

"Ace," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside, "we know you’re upset, and we’re sorry. But the thing is… we care about you. You’re not just a friend to us, Ace. You never were."

Ace looked up, his eyes widening slightly, though his face was still full of frustration. "What are you saying?"

You glanced at Deuce, who gave you a nod. Then, with a slow breath, you continued. "We’re not just saying this because we feel guilty. We’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I think… I think there’s a way for us all to be together."

"You’re saying…?" Ace trailed off, his voice hesitant, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"We could all be together," Deuce added quietly. "If that’s what we all want."

Ace blinked rapidly, as if processing the words. "You mean… a polyamorous relationship?"

"Yeah," you said softly. "If you’re okay with it. We’re not asking you to just accept it, but we all have feelings for each other. And I think we could make it work, if we’re honest and communicate."

The room was still, the weight of the conversation heavy. Ace’s face softened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to smile—genuinely. "I always thought it was too much to ask for. I didn’t think… I didn’t think either of you would feel the same way."

You reached out to him, placing your hand on his. "It’s not easy, but we’re in this together, Ace. We want to make it work."

Deuce nodded, his voice warm. "We’re not in a hurry to rush anything. We just want to make sure everyone’s comfortable. But we want this, too."

Ace’s eyes shone with a mixture of relief and emotion, and slowly, he leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. "I never thought I’d be lucky enough for this… but maybe I was wrong."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ..☆: ───

Days turned into weeks, and the dynamic between the three of you evolved. There were bumps along the way—moments of jealousy, uncertainty, and growing pains—but through open communication and a commitment to each other, the three of you slowly built something stronger than before.

You learned that love didn’t always come in simple packages. Sometimes, it was messy, complicated, and difficult. But in the end, it was worth it.

And as you walked alongside Ace and Deuce—your partners, your friends, your equals—you realized that, together, you were unstoppable.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ .·:·.*✧.·:·.*✧.·:·.*═╝

Borders and Dividers made by this website: https://www.aestheticsymbols.me/circle.html

This has just been sitting in my drafts for a while. so y'know. Happy Christmas Eve, your gift from me :)

[death-himself]

is my definition of mascot horror wrong, because why do some people call hello neighbor a mascot horror game?

mascot horror is about some sort of twist on a childish sort of thing, like how FNAF is basically chuck e cheese horror and BATIM is a horror version of old black and white cartoons

i haven’t paid attention to hello neighbor in years, but if i remember right the only things it had in common with mascot horror was the intentionally confusing lore and it kinda turning into a cash grab overtime

do people just lump it in with mascot horror because it came out during the mascot horror boom or was maybe inspired by some of those games or??

[shewhowillrise]

Serious question for batjokes shippers:

How does this ship work with BatDad. Like legitimate healthy batdad? Specifically batdad with Jason. Or Pseudo BatDad with Barbara. Like…I used to like “ha gaaaay” ship it as a joke back when I was in my marvel phase. Now that I’ve jumped into the deep end of dc, I hate Joker. Like, Joker literally broke Bruce’s family. Sure I can see that out of love some twisted love from Joker. But love from Bruce? I don’t see it.

So like genuine question: how does Jason and Barbara or Duke (or Tim from BMB/BMAU) work in the universe of BatJokes? For example, SuperBat or WonderBat, I see Jason and Barbara and Duke conversing and being with the family and having dinner with Bruce’s SO. Joker as the SO?

I don’t see anyone but Bruce at that dinner table.

(This doesn’t even cover the universe where joker’s the one that kills the Waynes)

[clowningcrows]

how do i know if my chosen name is the right name :(

[skyleathero]

🕊✨❤️

[veone]

I personally enjoy fight club because it’s very interesting to watch the physical and mental self destruction of person trying to find a purpose in life when they don’t desire the typical traditional american ideal life. To see the descent into delusion.

[brutal-out-here]

So from what I’m understanding today there’s been yet another instance where Taylor/her team has said she was straight/not part of the community and that speculating these things is bad/she doesn’t like it and yet there’s still tons of people who choose to believe making blogs dedicated to decoding every second of her life to make connections to whatever sexuality they want her to have is a good thing?

[iattachtooeasilytocartoons]

i genuinely am asking, but when people post “goodnight say it back” are they serious?? like, i nearly did and chickened out, is that genuinely.

[willowpotatox]

Okay question.

If y’all are watching a show and the characters are eating a specific food does anyone else get the urge to eat that food too?

Like for example one time I was watching critical role campaign 2 and they were eating Carmel apples and It was October so I had some caramel apple making stuff at home and I went and made one and ate it while I watched. Another time they were drinking hot coco so I went and made some. And just now they are eating carrots so I went and got some carrots

This like only happens when I’m watching specific shows though, like critical role.

Idk if this is weird or just a me thing aldjksjf

Please lmk if you do this too lahdlajdkf

[alaskan-wallflower]

genuine question

does kyle eat kosher? because i know he said his mom packs him kosher lunches and stuff but he was also shown to eat ham and supposedly bacon pancakes from denny’s, so i’m kinda lost, can someone please help

[stuartpitfall]

Okay I gotta know if this has happened to any other Medic. It’s happened to me three times.

So first time I’m running around on 2fort as Medic and Scout with intel comes up to me. He suddenly drops it. He won’t pick it back up and is looking at me. So I pick it up and cap it for him. Okay strange.

Second time. Same situation. Gets the intel. Drops it at my feet. Has me cap.

Then today. A half health Scout runs in with the intel. I heal him and start to run with him down to the intel room. Right before he could cap he drops it. I move away. He picks it back up and drops it closer. So I pick it up and cap it. He then praises me as we run back up to the surface.

Like has this happened to other medics? Or do I just have an effect on Scouts?

[nct127s]

need all these idols to drop samsung because their tiktoks and selfies are looking terrible 😬