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viperwhispered · 15 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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starwarjotta · 1 year

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so angst it is

#star wars #sw tcw #I'M SORRY #WELL NOT REALLY BUT #I SUFFERED WHEN DRAWING THIS SO YOU HAVE TO SUFFER TOO SORRY #and legit two people said cuddles and two angst so skfjsdlf I just decided to go in the order I've drawn them #and I also do like hurt/comfot so first hurt and later comfort #......maybe #huehuehue #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #I need them to be happy

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thegreatcrowdragon · 1 month

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Shadow Milk loves Pure Vanilla.

But not in the lovey dovey way, and certainly not the way Pure Vanilla loves White Lily.

He loves him like how a child has a favorite doll, or how a cat has a favorite toy, or how a rich woman loves her quivering little chihuahua. He says he loves him, and he smothers him almost nearly as much, but he still hurts him. And it’s not his fault the man looks so handsome when he’s crying.

Well, maybe it is a little. But he won’t admit that.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #pureshadow #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #I’m not expanding on this I was just Thinking #I don’t really write angst all that well sorry #this is just something that appeared in my brain #sm seeing pv: damn your hot but I bet you’d be hotter if you were a sobbing wreck on the floor <3 #we have the same taste in men: wet napkins #inspo was my cat and his lil catnip squirrel whom he sleeps with in his cat tree (which he is getting too fat for)

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arunneronthird · 1 year

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I love your art so much do not get me wrong but please can we get one drawing even the most dog shit doodle of damian being happy please

(but only if you wanna bless us with happy damian, I'll happily but also sadly take sopping wet cat damian)

full disclosure this ask made me laugh so hard i was worried people here would notice

i have a lot of angst to draw but! i do like drawing soft smiles and i do love this ask so here u go, sadly im at work so its a doodle

its the fearsome BATCHICK

#ill draw him happy more #i just #have a lot of terrible ideas too #oh boy prepare #damian wayne #batman #thanks for the ask! ot was really sweet but man i really went hard on the angst huh #my art #ladies. gentlemen. you have eaten well.

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jennilah · 2 months

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au where Strahm loses his voice entirely & permanently from the tracheotomy

food for thought

#jennilargh #peter strahm #saw #sawposting #i couldnt write it because ive already written a mute fic and i dont want that to be like a whole thing right #theres just a lot of angst potential with that PARTICULAR affliction that works well with romance and angst stories #like imagine? a hoffstrahm fic that basically follows the same beats as my series where Hoffman is horrendously guilty for what he did #but instead of just a neck scar and strahm's ptsd he also has to be faced with it every SINGLE time strahm communicates with him #or shit man. what if hes in trouble and trying to scream out #could go on really

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a-really-cool-blog-name · 1 month

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I think we should give Rise!Casey a little brother named Angel and do something angsty with that

#Because in 2003 Casey had a little sister named angel I think that'd be fun #I personally think that all the caseys deserve a little sibling named angel and I've seen people at her or an equivalent to her in 2012 #But never in rise and I feel like that's a shame cause I think you can get some really good angst out of that make him feel hurt about her #But then again this fandom doesn't really do anything with Cassandra they all just forget about her existence and only think of JR #And Junior is great and all come on guys he's shadows equivalent he's the Casey Marie of rise NOT the Casey Jones ™#Uh I got ranty #Also give him dyed blue hair #a rare original post #I've never actually watched 03 so I don't really know her personality very well but -\_(o-o)_/-#tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Casey Jones #angel jones #I can't believe I forgot the Cassandra Jones tag #Cassandra jones

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moonstruckdraws · 9 months

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Hanging Over Your Shoulder

Leo: ...anything new today? "..." Leo: ..no? Of course not, who would have guessed "..." Leo: You know, your whole silent intimidation and creepy looming has been getting on my nerves lately. It's getting old. "..." Leo: sigh ...just ignore it Leo... it's not real.. nothing will happen...nothing ever happens

"Nothing will happen"?

Hah.. well I guess I should make a habit of talking then..

I am a sucker for the Leo has psychosis head-cannon (tho Krang Prime is a pain to draw) and I just think it's a fun horror element. Still stuck on the rendering for the other post so I did another color palette drawing to help :]

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leo angst #krang leader #color palette art #sorry not really sorry #please don't think that Donnie and Mikey can see Krang (if it wasn't illustrated well)#I just wanted to add a foreground element lol #krang prime is a PAIN to draw

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maskyartist · 3 months

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okay so "tomorrow" got late BUT heres my goofy ass Clay/Creek idea :)

the entire summery is under the cut but in case ur curious dont worry

Branch eventually finds out :D

more info under the cut!

Once the Putt Putts end up getting moved to Trollstopia (i imagine they have their own sectioned off area, they're not exactly "pop trolls" anymore yknow? they got a lil makeshift spot they're turning into a new mini golf course as we speak), Clay was properly hired as Viva's royal advisor. Aka her assistant :)

He loves doing all his usual serious boy work, but its gotten hard doing it by himself now that it's less "trying to keep a small community from burning down" and more "trying to convince all the other genre's theyre not feral as hell". its a lotta work, along with keeping up with Putt Putts and their wants and needs for their new kingdom

So Clay puts out a flier for an assistant position and after weeks of no luck, he gets a hit and hires the guy as soon as he can!

Creek has been living on the outskirts of Pop Village ever since the "Bergen" incident, too afraid of the consequences of his actions to try and rejoin the Pop Trolls. Instead he ends up watching them build a newer area with Trolls he's never even met before.

Creek begins exploring the Putt Putt Range and is happy to be greeted as a full stranger. This spot might be safe. Social, not too far from his "home" (a tucked away cave in the forest), and no one knows what he did. He can start over!

Even better, there's a job offer for Putt Putt Range specifically. Hes not one for hard work, but after living on his own for long enough, hes sick of having to fight for his own food. He'd rather have a paycheck and something MUCH better then whatever crap he finds lying around. Or has to cook. Even worse.

Clay may be desperate but Creek does do good work. Being his assistant is thankfully rather simple. Creek is in charge of smaller, less important file information, along with manning the front and taking requests for the Putt Putts on what should be done to the Range. All in all? It's peaceful. It really does feel like a fresh start, and even better? Clay is...really nice. Patient, understanding, he listens and Creek has been alone so long it's just nice to be heard.

Things could really take a turn for the better.

...and then he learns who Clay's brothers are and all hell breaks loose :)

(its a lot of back and forth, Clay learning new info and having to just sorta grapple with it, being caught in the middle of a family feud situation. He cant STAY with Creek/keep him on staff if he wants to keep Branch happy, but he also doesnt wanna FIRE Creek because he hasnt hurt the Putt Putts. He has no reason to fire him, family business is just that. Family business. Its not for a professional setting.

Clay's caught between a rock and a hard place, and he's gonna have to squeeze himself out before he breaks.)

#masky says #doodles #trolls dreamworks #trolls clay #trolls creek #trolls branch #cleek #clay x creek #we usin x's in this fandom??? i like it picasso (miss the days of x characters.../ are just so not fun)#the assistant's assistant AU #less an au and more my own personal goofy post-movie story but i like things organized :)#when i remember to do it >3>#ANYWAYS THEYRE GOOFY SILLY WITH A LIL BIT OF ANGST ITS PERFECT!#idk i like the idea of Creek just getting a place he can BE.#doesnt have to walk on eggshells doesnt have to find solutions he can just heal on his own surrounded by people who dont know him #feel thats the only way he can be semi-normal idk pop village was a lot i think his mellow attitude really didnt do well there #feel him and Clay just have good conversations about forgiving themselves and finding the little things to look forward to #AND THEN HERE COMES BRANCH WITH THE STEEL CHAIR-#oh my god anytime he sees Creek in that office hes two seconds away from smashing his face in with a led pipe #he RELUCTANTLY will be civil >3> For now.

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helpimstuckposting · 8 months

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I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

—

Ever since the Upside-down and Vecna and the world going to shit, Steve’s spent a lot of time roaming the bars inside and out of Hawkins. Once he’d finished with his dad’s liquor cabinet and the only liquor store in town stopped selling to him, he started being a regular at multiple establishments.

It was hard, after losing Max and El and Will and others Steve couldn’t think about without ripping open the wounds again. The portals were all closed, but at what cost? The world was technically saved, but Steve’s was a wreck. The metaphorical wounds were still ripped up and bleeding, fresh holes that would never quite stitch themselves over and heal.

His parents never came back, and he couldn’t even blame them, it’s not like he expected to be worth it to them. He was an adult now, on his own, there was no need for them to come back and pick him up. Honestly, he never wanted to see them again, didn’t really even know who they were. Steve had lived with practical strangers his whole life, made a semblance of family from skin and bone, and had it all ripped away from him.

Steve Harrington was always meant to be alone.

So he drank, went back to King Steve’s routes, used the alcohol to ground him while his mind drifted away to heaven or hell or wherever. It didn’t matter, because Steve never remembered the night before. The nightmares melted with the sunrise, the tremors and gasps, and flooding eyes gave way to cotton mouth and hunger in the daylight, and the blinding sun made it easier to forget all the bad things. Easier, but altogether impossible none the less.

So Steve didn’t quite remember how he ended up in the woods behind his house, dead leaves tangled in his hair and a particularly sharp twig shoved into his spine. He groaned against the sunlight blinding him through the branches and dug the stick out from under him, standing up on wobbling legs to trudge back inside. It wasn’t uncommon to find himself on his porch or lying in an old and tattered lounge chair, or even on a park bench some times. He wandered a lot. There was nothing else to do.

He still had money in his trust fund, still had his parents house to stay in, it wasn’t like anyone was knocking on his door to put him back together. Eddie was somewhere, in another state or wherever he ran off to. Again, Steve couldn’t blame him, either. Wayne wasn’t here anymore, there was no reason for Eddie to stay after everything. There wasn’t any reason for Steve to stay, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go, either.

So he stayed. So he drank. So he blacked out and woke up outside sometimes.

He rested against a tree for a minute, trying to gain his bearings and see past the blinding sunlight, rubbing circles into his eyes until he saw sparks of white behind his eyelids. He was probably a mess, probably looked half dead, hadn’t been able to look into a mirror in months.

Blinking out into his backyard, he could see a bit better now but the world still wobbled on its axis just a bit. It would probably be another half hour until he was sober enough to see straight, but he wasn’t going to stay in the burning sun for that. He trekked across the dead grass of his yard, using passing lawn chairs and tables as crutches to make the distance more bearable, ignored the memories pressing at the edges of his mind and embraced the pain in his head to push the thoughts away.

The house seemed a bit cleaner on the inside than he last remembered, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t remember the last time he cleaned, but he couldn’t remember much of anything these days. That was the point, after all.

Steve rounded the hallway into the open arch of the kitchen entry — hoping he had some cereal left in the pantry somewhere, not brave enough to handle the stares and whispers he’d get at the diner or grocery store — when he was roughly slammed against the kitchen wall. His head swam with the abrupt movement, stomach churning uncomfortably. He blinked against the sudden impact, feeling one of his own kitchen knives at his throat; pressing, but not digging, a warning. The knife wobbled slightly before the grip righted, pressing just a bit stronger than before, a threat.

Steve opened his eyes, trying to get his brain back online in his hazy state. Putting the pieces together slowly. Brown hair. Curly. Angry eyes. A set grimace on his lips. Eddie Munson. The last time Eddie Munson had a sharp object to his neck, Steve was pinned to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boat house. Now, pinned to the wall of his own kitchen, Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away, couldn’t fathom what Eddie would be doing here, either.

“Eddie? What the fuck are you doing in my house?” He asked, pushing through the uncomfortable cotton mouth and stale alcohol taste on his tongue.

Eddie just stared at him, the hand fisted into Steve’s shirt tightening. He winced.

“Seriously dude, what are you doing?” Was he still asleep outside? Was he ever outside? What the hell did he drink last night?

Eddie kept staring, glaring, like Steve did something wrong again. Steve always did something wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what. The grip on his shirt tightened again, pinching Steve’s chest and clearing his head just a bit more. Definitely not a dream.

“Who are you?” Eddie growled out, shoving Steve harder into the wall.

Steve blinked. What? That was not the question Steve was expecting. Not that he was expecting any of this, really.

“Who. Are. You?” Eddie repeated.

“Steve. Harring-ton?” Steve replied, following the other man’s cadence, words dripping with confusion.

Eddie’s glare tightened like his grip, knife digging into his throat just a bit more. He was sure his brain should be screaming danger, danger, danger, but the fact that it was Eddie standing in front of him was throwing him way off kilter.

“Seriously, Eddie, what’s going on?” Steve begged, unsure if the confusion muddling his brain was because of the alcohol, lack of any decent nutrition for the past few months, or something else. Did he seriously miss something so big that had Eddie up in arms like this? He couldn’t possibly look so bad he was unrecognizable.

“Is this some kind of trick from Vecna? Hm? What are you?”

“Eddie, man, I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about!” Steve’s voice was gaining a more hysterical edge at this point, but it had no effect on Eddie what-so-ever. “I am so not sober enough for this, just tell me what’s going on!”

“Steve Harrington is dead!” Eddie yelled in his face, “Steve Harrington is dead, so what the fuck are you?”

—

If y’all have world building questions pls ask in the replies because maybe it’ll get me somewhere near a plot. Anyway, please enjoy sad lonely Steve

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