#makes him squirm

[frau-kali]

"And when the Urca is ours, what's to stop me from killing you anyway?" "Well, that's a few weeks from now, isn't it? We might be friends by then."

[killldeer]

god i love navani. literal first thing she does onscreen is arrive from the other side of the continent, beeline to a party where she can go sit next to dalinar, and go “hm so i’ve noticed that my son is kind of a loser”. and then when dalinar tries to protest For Honor or whatever she’s just like “no no i was not asking for feedback. this was a simple statement of fact. elhokar is a loser.” what an entrance

[bougiebutchbinch]

woke up semi-convinced that there was an actual House episode where, as a B-plot, House got a sex toy stuck up his butt and was trying to get it out without anyone noticing

honestly a little disappointed to come back to reality

[ryansjane]

"Why did he ask to meet so early?"

[kaeyx]

Thinking about Beastzai sleeping next to you... You're tied up tight, blindfolded and maybe gagged, and he's spooning you from behind with his face buried in the back of your neck. Whenever you struggle he just grinds against your ass and gropes your hip and thigh, maybe even cupping your pussy. He's not trying to fuck you, just enjoying your body and how close you are to him, enjoying how deeply you belong to him and can't do anything about it. Maybe if you behave extra well he fucks you full of cum and slips a dildo into you, taping your cunt shut so nothing escapes while you sleep and you have something to clench around. Beastzai could even get you a little vibrator, keeping the remote in his hand while he kisses and bites your neck and shoulders, keeping it on a low buzz to tease you while he has his fun. That way you can't do anything stupid and he can enjoy your body, plus it helps you associate his presence, being restrained, and pleasure!

[viperwhispered]

Too Fast

Part 4 of Jamil versus feelings (aka How Not to Be Swept Under, aka the Too Much series). Let's see how Jamil's plan of action pans out. Part 1, part 2, part 3.

Jamil had a plan.

He already knew he could make you smile, even laugh. That you sought out his company - and not just to sample his cooking (or Kalim’s generosity). Like that time when Jamil had helped you with your homework - considering how little you needed the help, it seemed to have been an excuse on both your sides to just spend time with each other.

Jamil knew the foods that would bring that delighted sparkle to your eye, knew when to step in before you were overwhelmed. You often shared any news with Jamil, filling him in the little happenings of your life - and had gotten him to do the same with you, too. He’d listened to you reminisce about your childhood and your home, even knew a few embarrassing secrets you’d revealed over the course of your conversations.

In short, it was clear that you had some degree of fondness for him.

However, Jamil had yet to ascertain the exact nature of how you felt about him.

But he was certain he could pull it out of you. Nudge you to act, to talk, so that he could gather those signs to tell him if you were open for more.

He’d see if you truly didn’t speak to others the same way you did to him. If you truly didn’t give others that look which always made things so difficult for him.

There had been those times when you had blushed in Jamil’s presence. You’d flustered, stuttered, restless fingers showing your nervousness.

But Jamil needed to make sure if it was because of him, or just the situations you’d been in.

Jamil had recognized the things you were doing, how you kept on getting closer to him.

But he needed to know if it all was enough for what he wanted with you.

And if not… Well. Perhaps there was something to be done about that. Given enough time, enough attention…

He could be a listening ear, a supporting presence, get to know you further, if he needed to.

Yes, he wanted you to be his sooner rather than later, but if he had to wait and work for it, he would.

After all, it was not like him to ruin such things with haste.

When Jamil’s phone buzzed, he pulled it out without even thinking about it.

Before, he always dreaded it, his phone typically only coming to life when Kalim needed something or there was another crisis to deal with.

Yet, nowadays, there was always the hope of it being you.

Jamil hefted his gym bag over his shoulder and unlocked his phone. The basketball club had run late today, and he needed to hurry back to Scarabia - but not before checking the message.

Thankfully, you were indeed the sender.

Hey, wanna go out to the town sometime? Cater told me there’s a nice cafe that opened recently.

Another message popped in before Jamil could finish reading the first.

Like, go out as a date.

The phone slipped from Jamil’s grip, landing on the locker room bench with a thud.

“Hey, Jamil, what’s got you so clumsy?” Ace said, peering at Jamil with a teasing grin.

Jamil cursed himself internally, quickly hiding your messages from view. Normally, he would’ve been walking across campus at this time, perhaps at the dorm already, rather than under the watchful eyes of his clubmates.

But, of course, not today.

“Just fumbled,” Jamil said, struggling to school his expression back to neutral.

“You sure about that? You’re looking awfully flustered,” Ace snickered.

“Ooo, is Sea Snake getting some exciting messages?” Floyd asked, looming closer.

Jamil gave both of them a sharp glare - the effect perhaps hampered by his flushed complexion. He really did not need Floyd and Ace’s antics on top of this bombshell right now.

“Must be the effects of the practice,” Jamil said with a tone of finality.

Not that that seemed to deter the two, now that they’d gotten a taste of blood in the water.

Rather than bickering with them further Jamil grabbed his things and hurried off. He almost expected Floyd to chase after him, even half-dressed as Floyd still was, but thankfully the eel did not seem to be in that much of an inquisitive mood today.

Small blessings.

Jamil was barely aware of his surroundings as he walked, his heart beating a more frantic rhythm than it had during the practice.

How was he supposed to respond to you?

He had not even done anything as he planned, and you already…

Jamil shook his head, tried to keep himself together despite the turmoil your little messages had thrown him into.

Sure, he had intended to push you to act, to reveal the nature of your feelings.

Yet that had left Jamil woefully unprepared for this.

Jamil stared at his phone again, barely remembering to blink or breathe, nearly colliding head-first with some other students.

Finally, he typed out a message.

Are you serious?

Your reply was almost immediate.

Yes

Jamil fidgeted with the strings of his hood, watching the little bubble that told him you were still typing.

Sorry for being a coward and not asking in person.

If you don't feel the same way we can just pretend this never happened.

Oh how Jamil wished he could see your expression right now, could talk to you in person, get to the bottom of this.

Or would it be better to respond to you in text, without worries of stumbling over his words, or getting caught in your eyes like a deer in headlights?

Jamil started writing a reply, frowned and erased it, began to compose another.

He took a deep breath, briefly lifting his eyes from the phone to check where he was going.

What did he have planned for today, anyway? How much time could he clear for you?

Mind abuzz with plans, Jamil tried again.

Can I come over later? I’ll bring something to eat.

I’d rather talk this over in private first, if that’s okay with you.

A few more messages, setting the time, assuring you that he was not opposed to your proposal. Then Jamil shoved the phone into his pocket, reviewing his options.

He’d make something quick for Kalim’s dinner while preparing something to share with you. (What could he make with the time and ingredients he had that you really liked? What about dessert? He knew how much you enjoyed sweets, after all.)

Kalim had no homework deadlines or quizzes tomorrow, and Jamil’s own schoolwork schedule had room for adjustment, as well. They could catch up later. (He’d have to make sure he looked impeccable. Would flowers be too much? Would he have the time to visit Sam’s for them?)

Jamil might have to get up a little early tomorrow for a few things, but he’d deal with that tomorrow. (What if you’d let him stay late? How close would you let him tonight? Would you let him hold you? Maybe even kiss you?)

When Jamil realized that he was standing in front of Sam’s shop instead of the mirror to Scarabia, he simply stared at the storefront for a moment, uncomprehending.

Then Jamil shook his head, frowning.

He’d have to focus, keep his mind on target. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Yet, despite his best efforts, Jamil salted the food twice, having to scramble to fix the flavor. When he left Scarabia he nearly left behind the small package he’d picked up at Sam’s, forced to turn back to retrieve.

And when he walked over to your dorm, Jamil had to consciously tell himself to slow down, lest he’d appear too frazzled by the time he made it.

Mentally, Jamil berated himself. Get a grip! After everything Kalim has thrown your way, you can definitely handle this.

Yet, Jamil still had to steel himself before he rapped on your door.

Jamil’s greeting nearly caught in his throat when he saw you.

He could see the effort you’d put in, dressing up a little, yet more than that it was all those emotions swirling on your features that took his breath away. The nervous excitement which had you fidget in place, the radiance in your smile, the way your eyes seemed to drink him in…

Jamil cleared his throat, determined to not drown in you.

“Thank you for accepting me on such short notice,” Jamil said, handing you a small, neatly wrapped box.

With a thrilling sense of satisfaction Jamil noted the way your eyes widened, how your voice wavered when you invited him in. How you smiled when you found out what he had picked out for you, the gift clearly finding its mark.

Still, you were both stepping around each other, following the scripts of a regular visit when this felt like anything but.

Jamil took out the food he’d made, insisted he’d help you with setting the table despite your protests.

It was an awkward dance, both of you trying to regain your footing.

“I just… feel like I have to say it,” you finally said as you were setting out the food. “That I like you. A lot. So…”

The way you spoke, pouring out your feelings, hesitant and nervous as you were…

Yes, Jamil had wanted to talk this over in person, had wanted to see and hear you say it. Still, now he had just as much trouble meeting your eyes as you had, both of you busying yourselves with the tableware.

You were so nervous, and Jamil felt the urge to pull you close and chase away all your worries.

But he would not push.

Not when he had his hands full keeping his own self under control.

A part of him couldn’t help but feel like he’d deceived you, somehow, for you to hold him in such regard.

And when the silence lingered… What could he even say?

Jamil had thought of it, sure, imagined how you’d react to his words… But at this moment nothing would rise to his tongue, all the carefully picked words gone from his mind.

Jamil took your hand, holding it in between both of his. He spoke your name, oh so softly, his voice cracking under the weight of it.

Hearing himself made Jamil cringe, yet he pushed on.

“I’m… I am glad to know we both want the same. That we feel the same.”

For a brief moment, Jamil hesitated. Then he raised your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. His eyes flicked to yours, full of those feelings that threatened to sweep him under.

Just him being here with you like this… It told you enough, didn’t it?

Your blush certainly seemed to suggest so.

Jamil would make sure to cause your cheeks to burn brighter. Later.

Once his own face stopped feeling like a hot plate under the sun.

* * *

Later, you sat side by side on the couch, Jamil’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting against him.

You’d hardly stopped smiling the whole evening, and Jamil could feel the hurt in his own cheeks. 

It was strange, giving into those urges Jamil had been doing his best to hold back all this time.

Still, he had to admit that it was easier trying to move with the current rather than fighting against it.

Yes, the looks you gave him were still overwhelming, your words - and touch - sending his heart aflutter almost painfully.

When you sang his praises, looking at him like your happiness depended on him… It really was just a tidal wave, one far too large for Jamil to withstand.

Yet, finally, Jamil was beginning to allow himself to enjoy it all.

These things - your sweetness, your warmth - were only for him, after all. A heady thought, something that made him greedy for even more despite the overwhelming nature of it all.

Of course, Jamil still didn’t want to overstep.

Truthfully, he himself wasn’t ready for some of the scenarios tugging at the back of his mind.

With the wisdom of hindsight it seemed that you had always been ahead of Jamil, more aware of your feelings than he was of his.

Perhaps even more aware of his feelings than Jamil had been, considering how you’d pursued him - because that was what you had been doing, all this time.

Even if Jamil himself had been too busy contending with his own thoughts to truly see it.

Still, it was difficult even for Jamil to worry about such things with your warmth pressed against his side. Jamil played with your hair, let himself just soak up your presence.

And in that sweet moment Jamil finally stopped fighting, at least for a moment. He let go of his plans, his resistance, and allowed himself to be swept up by you.

Indeed, it hardly felt like he had a choice in the matter.

ETA: you can find the final / 5th part of this series here. This sure stayed in my drafts longer than I thought it would, but here we are. There’s still one more part coming and then we’ll be reaching the end of this particular journey. If you'd like to be tagged in my future works, do let me know! Jamil: alright I need to make sure they want to be with me and then I can move forward Reader: I’ve been trying to get with you for a while now and I can’t wait any longer or Jamil: I gotta gain control over this situation Reader: surprise :)

[malewifingonside]

Afternoon nap at Lotus Pier

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[localcryptic]

if i think too hard about marshal steel i'm gonna end up on the news. he is making me actually insane. dog dad of the year. hated your guts when he met you. a kind and gentle lover. has made unforgivable mistakes. has also made charming stupid jokes. i can't tell if i want him to have a good calm life or if i want his guilt to devour him from the inside out. and on top of it all hes gay. happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[lorelune]

maybe i'm taking neuvillette's whole water tasting bit too far but he would be SOOOOOO incredibly insatiable about oral once he figures it out

[shower-phantom-ideas]

I want to believe danny finds it more annoying to use children swears.

Vlad uses food

Mr. William Lancer uses book titles

And Danny can say things like “oh golly this is on heck of a situation”

At first it started as it starts with any child. Wanting to test the limits of the rules and then he noticed it annoyed some adults. They can’t tell him to just swear :3. So he kept it. As he gets older he does curse like normal but not very often. Like it’s rare. Imagine his coworkers the first time he drops the “f-bomb”

Do you think they are shellshocked (thats a good handsoap) or do you think they scold him.

[marley-manson]

I actually really love that Hawkeye seems to consider 'Hawkeye' his Real Name, much moreso than Ben or Benjamin, and to a much stricter extent than any other nicknames we see, like Trapper, or even Radar, who seems overjoyed when football player Billy refers to him as Walter. I get the impression that Trapper thinks of himself as John, Klinger thinks of himself as Max, Radar thinks of himself as Walter even if he's resigned to only being known by a different name, etc, but Hawkeye thinks of himself as Hawkeye.

People, including Hawkeye, pretty much only ever refer to him as Ben or Benjamin in legal contexts, when yelling at him, when using his full name to make a joke, or to demonstrate their obnoxiousness (eg the Stars and Stripes guy in Depressing News). Even Daniel's use of "Ben" in The Party was in a mildly chastising context. tbf an aunt uses it in a letter too once, neutrally, but that's just how extended family is in my experience lol. He introduces himself as Hawkeye, corrects people when they use his legal name, and his childhood friends, his uni friends, and his ex girlfriend from his residency years all refer to him as Hawkeye.

Idk why I love it really lol, but it's a detail that I just dig. The sense of individualism, maybe? Hawkeye doesn't care for his stupid president name so he latches onto one that does have meaning for him and makes it his real name as far as anyone except paperwork filers are concerned? I do admire that vibe. Or maybe it's just that I can get attached to the names for characters we're given in canon and dislike when other names are used for them, at least in the wrong context (eg Starsky and Hutch referring to each other by first name after they fuck despite having already been about as emotionally intimate as possible) and I find it validating that Hawkeye also seems to dislike his alternate name and never uses it lol.

[mandareeboo]

"He would not fucking say that" he will when I'm done with him

[suguwu]

aventurine who flushes so prettily when you praise him, a soft pink spilling across his cheeks and down his chest as he arches into your touch. he tilts his head back, throat bobbing as he swallows, and breathes out a little laugh that's half disbelief.

flatterer, he purrs.

you hum, not taking the bait. press your lips to the curve of his shoulder, too light to be called a kiss. you stamp little whispers of praise into the salt of his skin as you do, and he shudders.

but he doesn't stop you.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.