#I’m definitely already writing this

[viperwhispered]

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.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, part 4 here, and finally part 5 here. 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.)

[whiscey]

re: my post about liam and sherly being pretty

liam’s beautiful like a romantic, slow song. he’s pretty like the beams of sunlight that peek through your blinds in the morning, like that first clear day of spring where everything starts to feel alright again. he’s pretty in the way that everything he does is oh so gentle. and no, that’s not saying he’s weak or meek in any way (god knows he’s sassy when he wants to be. and i think we all know that he can more than just defend himself). it’s saying that, if given the choice to live the way he truly wants to live, liam would choose kindness every time. it’s saying that liam’s love for the people he cares about isn’t big or loud, and yet it’s still so obvious in the way he smiles so softly, or the way he says “sherly” like it’s a goddamn prayer, or the way his biggest wish for so long was that his brothers and comrades get to experience the beauty of the world he was striving for. it’s saying that despite everything, he dreams and hopes and yearns and feels, and yet he would choose to slowly burn himself and everything he wants if it meant keeping others warm. it’s saying that the real liam isn’t crime consultant william james moriarty, but the math professor who’s incredibly proud of his students, the brother who louis makes tea for every morning and who albert comforts when the guilt is too much for him, the partner who sherlock loved enough to jump of a bridge for, and the man who cried tears of joy when a little girl said “thank you” to him.

and sherly’s pretty like an indie rock song that you want to scream along to in the car. he’s pretty like a full moon, like late nights out with your friends where you forget about your problems for just a few hours, like the last snowfall in winter.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Oh no, another mood board.

[untodeath]

(nervous) howdy 🤠

[sometimesraven]

Okay so last season was messy as hell and felt more nostalgia-bait mixed with recycled ideas, but so far even just one episode into this season the callbacks and references to previous stories seem more deliberate and pointed (helped by Belinda not being a 1:1 of Martha like we feared and also the references aren’t solely to his own era)

and I’m immediately brought back to “I made a jigsaw out of your history” 👀

[simplyghosting]

I’ll be honest, for as many years at I’ve seen October art/writing challenges (and art challenges the rest of the weeks/months of the year), I’ve only attempted a few and never finished any.

That being said, I think what I’m going to do for my umpteenth attempt this new October is to just.. do. Just do something every day. Any challenge, any prompt, any event, even if it’s mixed and mismatched. Doesn’t matter if it’s finished, though I will try for it. A few well-typed sentences, a sketched drawing, an unfinished study, I’ll still label them a success. I want my goal for this month to be to make improvements in my art and passions and to make an effort. Not bogged down by perfectionism or despair or lack of motivation or whatever else may stop me. I want to make the challenge of this month for me to live my life thoughtfully and love and respect what I bring into it again.

[valeovalairs]

People follow me for my fanart only for me to then remove my clown mask and reveal my second clown mask beneath it that says fic writer on it.

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Eddie Munson is Schrödingers gender, just saying

You could say he’s a cis man and I’d believe you

You could say he’s a trans man and I’d believe you

You could say he’s transmasc and I’d believe you

You could say he’s nonbinary and I’d believe you

You could say he’s a transfem and I’d believe you

You could say she’s a trans woman and I’d believe you

This also applies to Argyle actually now that I think of it…

[doubleappled]

The thing with the names

… is under the cut bc of s3 spoilers…

We’ve noticed how NYC chef calls Carmy “Bergazzo,” right, and how Shapiro then calls Luca “Lucas”? We see this?

And then we see Chef Terry at the end asking Carmy to call her by her first name the next time they’re together?

That’s something.

[anothermansjeans]

here is a little sneak peek for the untitled scream inspired fic (part 2) i have been working on 🫶 (she’s a long one)

++

“If you don’t stop, you’ll be late.” There was laughter in Y/N’s voice as she rolled Spencer off of her.

“And you won’t be late?” He got up and started to button up a white shirt while staring at Y/N in his bed, her hair sprawled messily on the pillows beneath her. He has never felt so lucky.

“No, Dr. Smartass. My first class today isn’t until three.” She leaned up on her elbow and grabbed a fist-full of his shirt, pulling him down so that their lips barely touched. “Plus, I’m just going to have them watch and analyze a movie today… not really in the mood for discussion.”

“Really?” He smirked as she brought them even closer together.

“Really, really,” pressing their lips together, she pulled him on top of her again, only coming up for air and for Spencer to speak.

“I thought I was going to be late?”

Looking over at the clock, Y/N pursed her lips to the side and looked back at him, “five minutes?”

“Two.”

“Two and a half?” She bargained, earning an eye roll from Spencer.

“Fine. Two and a half. But that’s it.”

She let out a chuckle and he brought his lips back down, meeting her in a passionate kiss before they were rudely interrupted by her cell phone ringing.

Y/N groaned and picked up her phone, not looking before answering. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

An annoyed expression crossed her face, causing Spencer to sit up mouthing ‘are you okay?’.

“Who is this?”

“Who do you think this is?” the voice from Scream asked back.

She removed her phone from her ear, looking at the caller ID before scoffing, “Well I think you’re someone who was too dense to use star 67, so I’ll take a wild guess and go with Riley Reynolds, who also happens to be in my 3pm lecture on Wednesdays!”

“Dammit!”

“See you later, Riley.” And with that, she hung up the phone, letting out a sigh while closing her eyes and throwing her hands onto the bed by her head.

“Another call?”

She opened her eyes and softened her expression at the concerned look spread across Spencer’s face. “Yeah…”

“We can get it changed again. Penelope can get it done in a maximum of ten minutes— I’m sure she could do it in five if we tell her now—”

“Spencer,” she put her hands on both sides of his neck, thumbs rubbing across his jaw as her eyes zoned out, thinking back to the night Danny and Joey tried to kill them. “It’s fine. It’s only because of the new Scream movie that came out. I’m an easy target to fuck with.”

Spencer let out a sigh, “I just don’t want you to be scared all of the time.”

“I won’t be,” she said, pushing him up so he could finish getting ready, “I happen to have my very strong, and very sexy FBI boyfriend. I heard he kicks ass.”

“Well, I’ve heard I kick like a girl…”

“Hey!” Standing up, Y/N finished buttoning Spencer’s shirt for him, reaching over to the armchair in the corner to hand him his pants, “I’m healthy, I’m happy, and I’m safe. I wouldn’t have moved here after everything if I didn’t feel that way, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Spencer looks at the determination in her eyes and nods, “you’re right. I just get scared sometimes. People are crazy and no one knows what might happen.”

She had waited until he was finally dressed to wrap her arms around his waist, feeling him sink into her embrace. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Kissing the top of her head, he hummed in response, “I could say the same about you.”

[foxesfantasys]

New Double Trouble fic! Woo!

Summary:

In which Fenton and Phantom have an important talk about the future.

“Yes, we were. And now we are us again.” Phantom replies simply, letting his gaze move more pointedly to the toy in his hands.

He shouldn’t avoid something like this. It’s important, for both of them. But he knows what the next question will be.

And that’s exactly why he’s avoiding it.

[totaled-drama]

I have so many thoughts about this season

[the-pastel-dreamer]

*sighs* ok I’ll write the Heathers Star Wars: High Republic AU I’ve been thinking about for over a year

[enterstellars]

been reaaaaaally struggling with the whole disabled thing as of late

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

anxiety will have me wishing i could google search things like “how to ask my manager if i can put her as a reference on my resume while i try to find a second job so i don’t have to move back halfway across the country to live with my mom and feel like i’m starting over again”