In the beginning, itβs enough for him to keep track of where you are and what youβre doing.Β
Your socials make it easier for him, allowing him to check who youβre with and what youβre thinking about. Youβre so good at that, posting daily little updates for him.Β
Of course, he doesnβt enjoy how you allow just anyone to see it, but heβs sure not everyone pays as close attention as he does. No, heβs certain of it. Everyone else takes it for granted. Only he appreciates it, saving all your little pics and snippets in a dozen folders on a dozen USBs he carries around with him. Theyβre his stress reliefβhe canβt bring himself to leave the house without them.
Itβs soothing. But soon, thatβs just not enough anymore.Β
He canβt afford to follow you around all day, but he dedicates those hours he can to keeping track of you, not just online, but out in the real world. He likes thinking of it like heβs taking you for a walkβhis cute little therapy petβwatching you, sometimes at work, sometimes when youβre out and about with friends, sometimes when youβre grocery shopping. Heβll buy the same things you get just to feel closer to you.
It helps keep the stress at bay, but even that just isnβt enough after a while.
For even though heβs able to catch glimpses of you inside the house when you walk to and fro in front of the windows, thereβs just so much he still canβt see. Sometimes youβll spend entire days out of viewβheβs even had to resort to ringing your bell and hiding just to see you in the brief moment you answer the door. It helps cool his nerves for a while, but the second you disappear again, the anxiety in his chest blossoms anew. He fears that soon he wonβt even be able to breathe without having eyes on you and what youβre doing.
He thought putting cameras in your house would help bring him peace, that by giving himself full access, it would somehow put a damper on his needs just a little bitβ¦
It didnβt.
In fact, he doesnβt think heβs ever been more desperately dependent. Watching you, sometimes in your bed all alone, on top of the covers in the perfect position like youβre fully aware youβre being watched and want to give him the best angle, making him feel sweaty and heavy and all in all hopeless, wanting to give in to the sticky feelings in his chest and lower beneath his stomach, but wanting to stick to his moralsβbecause, you know, heβs not a creep.Β
Youβre his source of relaxation, his comfort show, his special interest, thatβs all. He knows most people wouldn't understand itβtheyβd probably think heβs up to something perverted, but thatβs not it. Thatβs not it, and yetβ¦
He just canβt help himselfβwatching you, all nude, getting bent over by yet another guy youβd brought home. Heβs not jealous or anything, no. Itβs the opposite, reallyβ¦ heβs happy for you. It makes him glad to see you enjoying yourself, looking so blissful in the sheets, basking in the pleasure as it takes you with a gorgeous, dewy glow.
Of course, he has to wrap a fist around himself. He would be remiss not toβto give the beautiful performance the proper admiration it deserves by jerking himself until exploding all over the screen like heβs tossing roses on the stage.
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I actually found this so fun to draw, i think it was slightly simpler to do than the other 3 days, but i think it turned out well. That might be because i was refrencing my friend.
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happy death anniversary ianto jones, youβve been dead for 15 slutty slutty years - youβre truly the only character ever, you shrine is still standing and you will always be remembered
