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#certainly not me tho
livingblurr · 7 months
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I was supposed to be responsible and go to bed but I kind of ended up 1k deep into this one shot of civvie!reader, whose married to Price and works for the government and her workplace gets taken hostage and she just books it since she was in the stairwell when it happened.
But somehow I ended up giving her an intern and a promise to take said intern out for lunch instead while talking about her busted tights??
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stevebabey · 1 year
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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
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redsray · 1 month
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if tim and jason were allowed to be a villain duo I think the world would burn at their feet and I need a bucket of popcorn and a front row seat.
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zylev-blog · 4 months
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Danny was being followed. He wasn’t sure by who. All he knew is that he saved the life of some kid, and now he had an entourage. No matter what he did, where he went, there was always someone in the shadows. Someone watching. Waiting.
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pouletpourri · 5 months
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could you draw Caine pls🥹I love your art style and your what if Kaufmo didn’t abstract art!❤️❤️❤️
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thought drawing him would be hard but it ended being fun (also thank you!! :^)
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shaottzang · 6 days
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I have two sides.
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lemon-wedges · 11 months
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Breakfast 🍳 
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essektheylyss · 1 year
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It remains so funny to me that Caleb's idea of 'settled' is definitely "stirring up revolutionary talk in the capital like a 19th century philosophy professor while his wanted criminal boyfriend shows up on his front porch once a week in the flimsiest disguise imaginable." Icon shit.
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maniacwatchestheworld · 3 months
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DPxDC requested prompt (#7)
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(@bearerofendlesspain You know... Only after writing this whole thing do I realize that I had read this prompt wrong... WHOOPS! I read it as "Poison Ivy and Tucker are eating blood blossoms to extinction." and not as what was likely intended which seems to have been more along the lines of... "Batman rogue: Poison Ivy. Conflict: Tucker is eating blood blossoms to extinction." ... Which in this particular context are way, WAAAAAY different ideas! I could have saved myself a lot of distress if I had read it correctly... >.> But ah well! Whoops! Hope you enjoy this anyway! Thinking about a plant going extinct like this was quite distressing for me to write! :D)
"Hey. Thanks for helping me out with this, Tuck. And you know... For keeping all of this a secret from Sam." Danny smiled in appreciation to Tucker as they began to break ground with their shovels. "She would probably HATE what we're doing right now!"
"Yeah, of course, dude! It's no problem at all. The more we get rid of these blood blossoms here in Amity Park, the better it is for you and all of the ghosts in the area! Besides, I never want to even think about having to eat another one of these things ever again!" Tucker shivered at the memory of having to eat blood blossoms to save Danny and Sam's lives.
With that, the two got to work killing the bush of blood blossoms. They were digging to expose the roots so they could tear the plant from the ground whole. That made things easier when they would shove the entirety of the plant into a plastic garbage bag along with the other blood blossom bushes they had already uprooted. Once they were done with this area, they would take all of the bushes they had uprooted over the course of the day and bring them to an incinerator where they would destroy the plant- burning the flowers, stems, roots, and seeds all in one fell swoop. They had to make certain to destroy the whole plant, including the roots and seeds, just to make sure that there was no chance of the bush growing back from just its roots or more bushes getting planted in their place. They had been making good progress in wiping out the blood blossoms in this area. They just had a few more to uproot here and they could move on to the next area! They had been at this for months and were getting pretty close to their goal of exterminating blood blossoms in the whole of Amity Park!
But just as they were pulling this bush from the ground, a beautiful red-haired woman started charging towards them. "What do you think you're doing!???" she roared. The woman was clearly frantic.
Danny and Tucker glanced to one another. "Removing a bush...?" Danny answered, not certain what was going on.
"'Removing a bush' ... Alright, kids, stop what you're going and step away from that 'bush' right now!" She demanded. And while Danny complied, letting go of the plant and backing away, Tucker didn't and instead began to haul the shrub from the ground.
"Come on, lady. We're just removing some weeds. This isn't anything to freak out over." Tucker turned to roll his eyes at the woman where Danny could see but she couldn't.
"A 'weed'? A 'WEED'!!? You really don't have any idea what you're doing do you!? Do you even know what these 'weeds' are!?" The woman was obviously distressed, and growing more agitated by the moment.
Tucker let out a flippant breath. "They're blood blossoms, duh."
"Yes. And this specific species of blood blossoms are native and endemic to the Amity Park area!"
"Okay...? So what?" Tucker wasn't entirely certain what she was talking about.
"And they're an endangered species!"
"Oh... I- I didn't know!" Danny swore, suddenly feeling bad about what he and Tucker had been doing.
"So?" Meanwhile, Tucker had the opposite reaction. "What are you, a botanist or something? Who cares if these blood blossoms go extinct?"
"Yes. I am a botanist..." Danny was watching as the horror on the woman's face was slowly turning into fury.
"Tucker...? I think that you should just leave the plant alone..." Danny cautiously advised.
"What!? After all the work we've put into killing off all of these stupid flowers? Now you're starting to sound like Sam! We've been at this months! No way I'm stopping now!"
"MONTHS!???" That was the absolute last straw. These children have been exterminating these poor, defenseless, endangered plants for months!? Dr. Pamela Isley- more famously known as Poison Ivy- had heard enough. These boys were going to pay. "You might not care about these flowers dying, but I do! The land- The Green does! You need biodiversity in order to have a healthy ecosystem, and these flowers play an important role in that! You can't just go around, carelessly digging up and killing innocent, endangered plants without there being... Consequences."
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hellishgayliath · 7 months
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GUESS WHO JUST TURNED A YEAR OLDER TODAY :P
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 4 months
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Finja x Chase angst? 👀
oh dude their whole "relationship" is basically messed up angst lol (despite me often portraying it as cracky angst)
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I mean, we have some good angst in Chase pursuing First not because he 'loves/cares about' him, but because he selfishly desires him for his power/sees him as a challenge to get into his Fallen Warriors army. And First having to be constantly on alert against Chase, especially when he behaves like a charming honorable warrior, hiding that cunning manipulative side of him behind amused 'harmless' smiles. I would imagine its hard for First to not start to care about Chase (he can be very charming ;) ) to some degree, so there is like this delicious angst in starting to care about someone with whom morally you would never agree with. (very Prof. X vs Magneto vibe imho)
(this also could lead to some interesting spin-off angst opportunity about First being in the Fallen Warriors Army and just...existing in this weird limbo of being a target of Chase's favorable attention, but still essentially being a servant to his Master so thus really unable to trully care about/love this evil man but he still kinda cares after all these years and, like ooooooh baby thats some scrumptious angst possibility)
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Or we can have some angst in form of First, being technically 'moved on'/left only in spirit in this world and Chase, still obsessing over him all these centuries, not even realizing that he is basically pining at this point. Showing up to bother current Ninjas, Ninjanomicon and Spirit of First at every opportunity, but not being able to actually be (in any capacity) with First, besides those very brief reunions. And First, throughout the years, while still being very annoyed about Chase's continuoes presence, also feels... incredibly saddened about this man to some degree. But he still can not falter, for his duty and successors still need him and they take priority, so this weird relationship just continues on.
And like OOOOH BABIES this is just scratching the surface of any possible angst, but these are the ones that are currently circling in my mind (i want to make some comics with these scenarious) so yeah! angst! ;D
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viperwhispered · 16 days
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Too Hard
Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.
The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.
What a stupid thought to have because of you.
Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.
So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.
“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.
Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.
On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.
Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”
Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.
His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.
Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.
After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.
If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.
The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!
For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.
After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.
Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.
Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?
Could you possibly-
Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.
He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-
Jamil froze in his tracks.
The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.
Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.
Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.
Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.
Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?
Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.
What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?
Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.
He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.
Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.
“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.
“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.
As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.
And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.
Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.
All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.
“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.
Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.
Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?
Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.
Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.
“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.
Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.
“Hmm. Maybe he will.”
Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?
Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.
How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?
“You know-”
“So-”
You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.
Even your surprised look was so-
“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.
“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.
“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”
He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.
“No. It is not.”
You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.
Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?
“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.
“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.
Wait.
Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?
The thought twisted his stomach into knots.
Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)
#twisted wonderland#jamil viper#twisted wonderland x reader#jamil viper x reader#ner writes#jamil definitely knows how to deal with his feels#also writing this is making me wonder how aware jamil is of his inner versus outer life#like he’s very aware of how he comes across because that’s what he’s been told to watch out for#but how well has he truly learned to understand himself and his own feelings wants etc?#(I mean as you can tell I’m assuming not very well)#originally this went to more of a “jamil hears just the wrong part of the conversation” route but#a) I kinda hate that trope especially when it’s dragged on beyond belief and#b) Kalim maybe doesn’t want to spill anyone’s secrets but he really is such an open book especially with Jamil so#also it’s not like jamil needs the extra help to catastrophize he already does that well enough on his own 🙃#tho then I went a little too far in the other direction and had to pull back#but let's just hope I didn't edit this to death by now#also also: since I seem to have a bit of a naming theme going on for this series#if I were to be the sort to go for the angst route what part would definitely be titled Too Late or something along those lines#also x3 but loved folks commenting on that part about reader being inoffensive in the first part#I certainly had fun writing that line#(and in general extra love to everyone who leaves comments on tags replies wherever always great to read those)#(and in general chat with y'all)
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essenceofarda · 7 months
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Of Blessed Thyme and Thistle - Chapter 1 | Page 1
Faramir's cousin, Lothiriel, comes to Minas Tirith to become a companion of his new bride, Eowyn, something that he hopes will ease Eowyn's rough transition into Gondorian Society. Eowyn, for her part, decides her new companion would in turn make the perfect bride for her brother Eomer, King of Rohan. Matchmaking shenanigans ensue 😏
Yayy I finished page 1!! I plan to do at least another page this weekend, but do let me know if you'd like me to continue!! I survive on encouragement 😆
Also yes i know i Know "Black" is the color of Sauron, shhh let's just pretend that now that Sauron is out of the picture Normal people can be goth or wear black without moral issues lol
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shadow-the-crow · 8 days
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The tma lore is great because you can do so many things with it.
You can point at literally anything and say "tma reference." You can categorize anything and everything into fears. You can learn more about yourself and what you're afraid of deep down. You can make a tma oc who's an avatar of the fear you're aligned with and project all your trauma onto them.
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I've been getting gendered as a woman so much more since claiming and presenting as butch than the prior 6 years of being out as trans and it's such an odd feeling. I find myself questioning how much my years of saying I was nonbinary stemmed from not being accepted as a woman socially. Not being viewed as such, and then not being able to view myself as such. The social influence of gender is something not as talked about and I think it should be. I don't fit as a woman within white society. Within cisheteronormative society. But, as a butch? As a two-spirit butch? Now that I'm finally being honest with myself, woman feels right again. She/her in many contexts feels right again, and honestly with some people they/them is starting to feel like a lie. When my brother calls me his sister it just fills me with so much joy. When my grandmother calls me her grandaughter I want to cry. When my femme calls me her girl, I feel at home and so loved. Womanhood is feeling right again. It's odd, but nice. I can't say this is where the gender exploration ends, but yeah.
I am a Métis two-spirit butch, and within that womanhood feels like home again 💕
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outer-edges · 9 months
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reblogging a post about wanting to talk to mutuals but being scared only for your mutuals to interact with the post, and still no one starts a conversation is next level mutual behavior
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