#but it got WAY away from me

[tallbluelady]

"what's wrong?" "your feet are cold!"

As a healer himself, Urianger understood Krile's desire to keep her patients in one place and for one more night, but with only curtains to separate the beds, it was hardly private in the Dawn's Respite. He groaned and opened his eyes when his thoughts would not release him to sleep. It was not the morrow, surely... he pulled back the curtain and tried to gauge the time of night. He saw it was dark enough to be deep within the night, save for a very soft light coming from Rowan's direction. He remembered that the earring her mother had given her had a faint glow to it due to the aetherial composition of the sand it was made from. Judging from the light's position, it appeared that Rowan was standing up with the object in one of her hands, the other on a curtain.

"Beloved, wherefore art thou awake?" he asked in a stage whisper.

Her large pale eyes grew wide, picking up the earring's glow in an almost eerie fashion. She pocketed the object before replying. "I... I couldn't sleep with all the thoughts I had. So I thought I'd check on all of you."

"Pray, come hither to avoid waking the others."

 He was uncertain if his ploy would work, but Urianger smiled as Rowan sighed and tiptoed to come see him. She sat on the chair next to his bed.

"There's not much to speak of, darling. Just thinking about... love I suppose."

"Then, pray think of such subjects in mine arms, my love. I can think of no better locale." He lifted the covers and patted the space next to him.

"Jey! We're not alone in here..." she hissed.

As if to make her point, one of their comrades coughed and muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm far too fatigued to pursue any amorous activity," he said truthfully. "Thou mayest return to thine own bed once I return to sleep."

"You know that's not how that works..." Rowan muttered as she closed the curtain then climbed into bed with him.

Urianger held the feeling of smug satisfaction until an icy chill touched his feet.

"What? Do you want me to leave?" she asked as he flinched.

"Nay... but from what source did thine extremities gain this precipitous chill?" He moved his feet away from hers.

She snorted. "The stone floor must be colder than I remember." Then she traced a toe down his shin.

He hissed at the sensation and Rowan covered her mouth to stifle the laughter. At Alisaie's command of quiet, he lifted the covers over their heads.

"I suppose twas fairly childish of me to do..." Rowan's voice still shook with laughter.

Urianger felt a few chuckles start to bubble up within himself, so he took Rowan's face in his hands and kissed her. "I love thee."

Rowan shook with a few more chuckles before asking, "Cold feet and all?"

"Mayhap our shared body heat will alleviate such things..."

At that, Rowan had to pinch her nose to keep from laughing.

[lowpolyshadow]

for all the people on this planet ... i promise you ...

[wispscribbles]

Do you think Ghost will just stick his face in Soap's hair to smell it

he likes his soap <3

[antigonenikk]

batman perhaps the most prodigious child abuser to ever live. no wife. no biological children of his own whose lives he could destroy (at first) so he got smart. hustled. took to the streets picking up and adopting orphans and then ruining each of their lives systematically. until ofc he got sick of them and threw them out for the next best model. he was flawless in his execution of it too. these kids still want daddys attention til this very day. even after he rocks their shit or kicks them out for the millionth time. these mfs are willing to KILL each other for a chance at being daddys favorite candy baby for a week. batman truly is a sick mf i understand why joker thinks they have a connection.

[solarpunkani]

You know what, while I'm doing hot takes. And this one may be obvious considering I'm actively contributing to hosting the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week event but like.

Dear everyone who's constantly deriding the aesthetic portions of the solarpunk movement/genre; do you just not understand that being able to visualize the future you want is immensely important to being able to work towards it? Being able to get other people on board with it?

When I first got interested in Solarpunk, it wasn't for the hot leftist takes about the top ways to dismantle the government for the people, or top tips on how to build your own solar panel apparatuses. What brought me in? Visions of a hopeful future. I learned and began to love the rest as I dove deeper into solarpunk circles, but there is no denying that my first intro to it--and likely many people's first intro to it--was via the art and aesthetic spheres. The term 'solarpunk' was literally coined to refer to the aesthetic movement, and we've been building up from there ever since.

'When are people going to realize the aesthetic parts don't matter and what really matters is praxis--' dude, the aesthetic parts do matter. Inspiring people does matter. Showing people visions of a hopeful future is immensely important, it's why so many people join this movement. We see glimpses of what a hopeful future could look like, through beautiful art or riveting stories, we're inspired by things like stained glass and organic designs and statues and fashion concepts--and then we think to ourselves 'how can we help make this future happen?' And we learn the praxis and we work towards the goals and we share it with others because that's just how we work.

Seeing isn't always believing, but sometimes in order to believe in something with your whole heart, it helps to be able to visualize what you want. For yourself and for others.

So yes. The aesthetic parts of solarpunk do matter. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

[14dayswithyou]

Hi, Howdy! Hey! I really love your novel!! I got a little confused by the 4 day, may maybe you help me please? who is it? why we got the bad end staying the night in Ren’s apartment and he disappear of the home screen? I can’t understand “unset memory” game, sorry if I wrote smth wrong or smth sounds rude, I swear that I didn’t mean it if happened, I’m really a fan of the novel, I’ve been playing the game since day 1 or 2 I guess, probably day 1, english isn’t my first language, but I tried lol

⌞♥⌝ I hope you don't mind me answering these as bullet points!! ^^

"It" will be revealed later in the game! So I won't reveal too much right now.

You can only get the Dead End in Day 4 by staying at Ren's apartment — the rest of your choices before that don't matter. I'd also pay closer attention to the black smoke and Ren's reaction towards it!

Ren disappears from the home screen because he promised to help the player out (and stop them from getting the Dead End again). Try replaying the game again from the beginning for a surprise!

"Unsent Memories" was another visual novel (initially being written by @10chimes / @unsentmemory, though the project has since been dropped and handed back to me /pos) and is set in the same universe as 14 Days With You. Its storyline and characters are completely separate from 14DWY, so you don't have to worry about them while playing 14DWY.

[chawliekin]

and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…

[purpleminte]

Sparkly AND Soft™

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

I was wondering, does Fiddleford still have a wife in your Halloween au? And if yes, does she know about him being a vampire?

I've been sitting on this ask for a bit, but I think I should finally answer.

In my AU, Fidds is actually pretty old-- not like ancient or anything, but surely a few centuries?

Anyway, so way back, when he was human, he did have a wife and a kid!! But when he got bit and became a vampire, he actually outlived them :(

He tries to think about them often, but it's definitely one of the things he chooses to erase when he creates the memory gun

[katierosefun]

pyramid game is such a perfect little drama for the sapphics because you've got a whole demented psychological thriller going on about high school girls creating a whole fake social class system that results because one bored little princess bitch thought it'd be funny, and you've got all these dynamics that can only be boiled down to some kind of love story because like. ye lim and eun jeong's dynamic? the princess idol and her athlete bodyguard. soo ji and ja eun's dynamic? the cold mastermind and the compassionate heart. even whatever da yeon and seol ha have got going on? typical hitter and loyal dog dynamic. the list can go on.

[mikakuna]

anyone ever notice that mainly the only way that bruce and jason mend their relationship, both in canon and fics, is by jason realizing bruce actually feels bad for everything he did or is shouldering too much and it guilt trips jason into trying to fix his relationship with bruce? this isn't all cases but it definitely is the case with most popular fics. bruce apologizes sometimes yeah but it's usually just someone telling jason or him realizing just how heartbroken and depressed bruce is. jason then internalizes out of guilt that he needs to lay off bruce and realize that maybe bruce is trying his best

in fact most relationships jason has with the bats in fanon is like this. jason calls tim replacement until oh nooo the poor baby is so sleepy and running on coffee and awww he's just a little boy i need to stop being a menace, meanwhile tim or alfred never apologized for every nasty thing they said or imagined about jason when he was robin. enemy to caretaker makes me barf. do not make my boy who has been a caretaker to adults since birth take care of this rich boy who's been taken care of extraordinarily since day one. tim having this supposed childhood trauma fans talk about doesn't take away from the fact that he was taken care of as a child

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Does

Does Barnaby

Does Barnaby tell the others to get off his lawn when he's angry

psh, who do you think he is, an old man? he'd Bark, like any lively young dog

[tommykinardkink]

Tommy manhandling Buck all over his apartment (casually picking him up because he can, wrestling him to pin him to the bed, Buck curling into Tommy and reaching for him and just needing to feel held, Tommy pressing him against counters and walls to kiss him until he's all weak and pleading)

Okay. So.

The first time it happens, Buck can't help letting out this surprised little squeak. Tommy's strong, he knows that. But Buck's a big guy, he's used to doing the manhandling.

So maybe Tommy stayed over the night before and now Buck is in the kitchen, peering into the fridge as he talks about what to have for breakfast. He's in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips and his chest and feet are bare. And as tempting as that sight is, Tommy's eyes keep straying to Buck's ridiculous bed head and the way the sunshine streaming in from the windows catches in his curls.

Tommy can't help it. He needs to touch.

He goes round the kitchen counter and gently shuts the fridge. Buck's about to grumble—because, hello, hungry—but Tommy cuts him off with a kiss.

Alright, so maybe breakfast can wait.

And things are starting to get heated. Tommy uses his weight to press Buck back against the fridge and his hands have threaded themselves into Buck's hair. The contrast between the cold of the fridge and Tommy's big, warm body makes Buck shiver, and he wraps his arms around Tommy even more tightly, pressing right up close against him.

Tommy's hands begin to wander. They slip lower and lower until they're cupping Buck's ass, and he uses the grip to grind their hardening cocks together. It's a dizzying feeling and Tommy doesn't think before lifting Buck into his arms and carrying him the short distance to the kitchen counter.

"Shit," Buck squeaks, arms tightening around Tommy even further, and not letting go even after Tommy's set him down.

Oops.

"Was that okay?" Tommy asks breathlessly, pulling back as much as he can to check his expression. Buck's wrapped around him like an octopus, eyes wide and lips—pink and glistening and Tommy's thisclose to kissing him again—parted.

It takes Buck a few seconds to answer because... like. Wow. His brain needs a little time to reboot because this is a first that Buck hadn't ever anticipated. Because he's the one who sweeps the girl off her feet. He's the one who has to be mindful of his strength. He's the protector.

It's not the first time that Tommy's turned his world upside down. Buck hopes it won't be the last. He licks his lips as he meets Tommy's gaze.

"Do it again."

Tommy's smile is brighter than the early morning sunshine. It's impossible not to mirror the expression as Buck closes the distance between them again, tasting the joy on Tommy's lips as he kisses him.

It isn't long before Tommy's tugging Buck off the counter and shepherding him back towards the bedroom. He takes every opportunity to push Buck up against the walls and furniture, using his weight to keep him pinned while he luxuriates in the hungry little sounds Buck makes every time he does it. They make it up to the bedroom—each on their own two feet, those stairs are a goddamn death trap and they've both been to too many calls where some lothario has dropped his date on their head—and Buck is grinning, running his palms up and down Tommy's arms, squeezing.

And okay, fine, maybe Tommy's showing off a little bit, but so what? He hasn't missed the dazed, slightly awed, look Buck gets every time Tommy manoeuvres him just how he wants him. So as soon as the bed presses against the back of Buck's knees, Tommy pushes him down onto the mattress. He watches as Buck peers up at him from beneath his lashes, spreading his thighs to make room for Tommy between them.

This fucking kid is going to be the death of him. And what a way to go. So Tommy crawls up over Buck's sprawled out body and takes hold of his wrists, pinning them above his head.

Buck's buzzing, giggling as he gazes up at Tommy. He tests the strength of Tommy's grip and can't help but just marvel at how easily the other man holds him down. He knows that he can free himself if he wanted to, knows that it won't even be a fight because as soon as he says the word, Tommy will let go.

And for the first time, maybe since Abby, Buck feels... safe.

But he's distracted from the fluttering in his chest when Tommy begins to grind down against him, rutting against Buck through their sweatpants. He gasps, eyelashes fluttering, as pleasure flashes through him. It's instinct to pull against Tommy's grip, to try pulling him closer, but Tommy doesn't budge.

Fuck.

So he does the only thing he can. He wraps his legs around Tommy and arches his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Tommy grunts above him, warm breath ghosting over Buck's already overheated skin as he picks up the pace, working them closer and closer to orgasm.

It's hot and sticky and kinda gross, and Tommy wouldn't trade it for anything. Tommy peppers kisses up the column of Buck's neck and along his jaw, loving how responsive he is, how he whines and bares his throat for him.

"Come for me, Evan. Come for me now."

He feels Buck shuddering against him, hears his panting breath, and he's so close that it's a kind of agony. But he wants to bear witness to this, to the beautiful way Buck comes undone.

Buck's eyes flutter open after a long moment, and he feels boneless and blissed out. He gazes up at Tommy, at the... fondness in his expression that never fails to make Buck's heart skip a beat. And then he realises—

"You didn't come?"

Tommy smiles ruefully, finally loosening his hold on Buck's wrists to brush an errant curl off Buck's forehead. "I was a little too busy watching you," he admits.

A blush creeps across Buck's face and he ducks his head. He isn't sure what to say to that, can't name the feelings blossoming inside his chest. He opens his mouth to protest because, seriously, he can't be the only one to get off. But Tommy hushes him and presses a kiss to his brow.

"Just let me hold you a little while, yeah?"

He can still feel Tommy's erection pressing into him and uncertainty nags at him. Is Tommy really okay with this? Tommy doesn't give Buck the chance to argue. He rolls over onto his side before pulling Buck along with him, arranging his limbs until he and Tommy are slotted together.

They fit perfectly.

It isn't long before sleep begins to tug at him. He snuggles deeper into Tommy's embrace, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder and breathing him in.

He has this big, strong, gentle man in his arms, and maybe... maybe it's his turn to be taken care of.

[tricoufamily]

if you're wondering why bob is here it's bc in the original villareal story there was a very minor background detail that diego lobo and bob pancakes dated in college and broke up tragically and that's where the story peaked. so i included him it's still canon

thank you for these it was so fun!!!!!!!!!!!!

i did these in my this is the fall sim style so i'm thinking. if they exist in this universe what's all their opinions on the 'did jacques do it' situation. let's take a look

don: saw a photo of jacques's wife on the news during the investigation. said "whoa mama that's a hot babe!" like johnny bravo and did not read the headline. does not know anything about it still.

vlad: well he's psychic he could figure out the truth if he actually cared. and he has!

olive: obviously respects it. except for the getting investigated part, would never happen to her.

diego: does not think jacques did it but enjoys the tabloids. knows other rich people personally who he thinks have killed their spouses

morgyn: will post things like "friendly reminder that j*cques v*llareal literally killed his wife and is a billionaire so maybe don't go to one of their hotels" on tumblr and will then do a call out post about like a fanfic writer who wrote an unhealthy relationship with more severity

pascal: knows conspiracy theories and this one is bullshit. or maybe it just doesn't interest him as much as aliens and that's why he thinks that

jeb: has a very "well of course he did. them rich folk can do whatever they want. there ain't no hope for the rest of us" while kicking a can down the road approach

bob: thinks he did it. is very alarmed that it was brushed off. eliza's like bob book the hotel and he's like am i going crazy. does anyone hear me.

[introspectivememories]

sorry but do you ever think about the fact that the bernard we have today is a direct amalgamation of everything that happened in his past and i know that sound like such an obvious statement to say but it actually kills me to know that you can draw a direct line from who he is today all the way back to that sixteen year old boy who watched his best friend bleed out. like it is the defining moment in his life. it fundamentally shaped who he is and the person he's become. he is the bernard we know and love not despite the grieves shooting but because of it. because the gangs all got together and shot up his school. because tim walked out of that room with nothing but a baseball bat. because his darla got shot. because he watched her gasp and cry as she died. because he watched the blood coagulate around the wound. because he sat there and held her hand as her life drained out of her. because he walked into school that day with a joke he knew would make her laugh and her nose would scrunch up and she'd snort a little and tim would roll his eyes at him and call him ridiculous and instead he walked out with a bloody white shirt, blood under his fingernails, and two friends less. because, even now, almost half a decade out from the shooting, he thinks that if he closes his eyes, he will always be that stupid, scared little sixteen year old, holding the cooling body of dead best friend.