#tommy martini

[temothylol]

hhngh. its done 👍

insp under cut

[gnomer4]

im on that tawog shi

[teslapunk3327]

ianto is to me what James Bond is to Ianto

[thefishdeath]

Benrey and Tommy are on opposite ends of the uncanny valley spectrum to me. They're both people aligned aliens. Benrey is the thing in your ally that you've know was not human from the start. Tommy is the next door neighbor and you are slowly starting to realize that something is off here

[dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai]

Welcome to the AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!

Thoughts below the cut, ID in alt!

SO: Caine is still the ringmaster, and the others may or may not be there, but for what I was specifically thinking, this is a sort of replace-the-cast thing. The most obvious two are Gordon as Pomni and Coomer as Kinger. I was thinking Bubby could be a Zooble equivalent, Benrey as Jax, and Tommy as Ragatha. Darnold would be left in Gangle's spot (though the two are nothing alike), and Forzen would have been Kaufmo.

I picked and chose names based on how weird they were GFDHJSAK

So, normal names like Gordon or Tommy got replaced, while unconventional ones like Benrey and Bubby are the same.

Leodoll is a play on Leo, meaning lion, and doll, which is. obvious.

Asher Blau literally means "happy blue." They're both Jewish names (from what I understand, PLEASE tell me if I'm wrong here), and of course Asher is a double play on Ash, like fire.

Beybend is a play on "Beyblade," while also suggesting Tommy's new flexibility

Benji Calzone is funny

Gotcher is a play on tamogotchi and Kinger's name (or, the last part of Coomer's original name)

The designs are also a play on their personalities, going off the theory for the show that that's the case (like Ragatha being a bit of a doormat and Jax being a jackass)

Gordon: Plush lion. Fierce, brave, and strong, but also a huge softie. Makes others feel better and/or safe.

Bubby: Mime action figure. Going off the idea of him being in the tube like how mimes usually start their routines pretending to be in boxes. Also his joints CAN detatch and re-attach, so something something symbolism somthing he was built instead of born something

Tommy: Heavily inspired by Betty Spaghetty. Literally really flexible, playing into the idea of him having really good instincts/adaptability.

Benrey: LEGO ass. Wanted to play into the idea of his shapeshifting, and also stepping on LEGOs sucks and you KNOW he'd find that funny. Moves like Queen Whatevawanabe (how do you spell her name?) from The Lego Movie 2. Also I liked the idea of he and Gordon being opposites: Gordon is soft, Benrey is hard. You cannot really change Gordon's appearance at all, Benrey's is MEANT to be changed, ect. I like stuff like that idk

Coomer: Tamogatchi. Easy. You ever seen Wreck-It Ralph? He moves like the Nicelanders from that movie, but with a lot more casual glitching. His speech pattern is basically identical to canon. My guy has ADHD and a terrible memory, so although he's kind, he's not super reliable. He's been here for a LONG time.

I do not know what Forzen and Darnold would look like.

Sunkist is one of those lil ducklings on wheels little kids play with, but ofc a dog instead of a duck.

If/when Joshua shows up, Gordon would be SO upset. Relieved as well, but mostly concerned. I was thinking he could either be a lion, too, cuz the idea of a lion cub is SO CUTE, but I think him being a horse makes more sense for his personality. Cowboy horsie!

Before anyone asks, yes, Gordon DOES run on all fours if he wants to be faster

I have zero idea as to where Gman fits into this. Maybe he MADE the program, I don't know.

Anyway, yeah! :)

[bingoary]

crys loudly my style was on it's way to realism why must i do this

[h0undeye]

art requests for the awesome sauce hlvrai discord

[smolcrow465]

JUST A FEW HOURS HOW WE FEELIN

[aphroditeslover11]

I’m part way through reading ‘American Prometheus’ and have just reached Oppie’s martinis. Apparently his signature trick was to rim the glass with a mix of honey and lime juice. After a bit of digging I also found a Washington Post article that said he liked his measures large and with only a dash of vermouth. The real question is whether I should try it at a party in a few weeks?!

[nerds-yearbook]

Marvel began reprinting the Punisher in a magazine format with The Punisher Magazine. The first issue had a cover date of September, 1989. ("Circle of Blood" The Punisher Magazine 1#, Marvel Comic Event)

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Who’s the Other Girl?

Summary: Tommy is having an affair with you in the states but what happens when you are face to face with his wife, Lizzie.

Warnings: Infidelity, talks of divorce, women standing up for other women.

I bet you're from out West somewhere

Hazel eyes and dark brown hair

And everything you wear fits you just right

I bet you drink martinis dry

And never let him see you cry

I bet you're more promiscuous than I

I bet your bold, 

I bet that’s why you seem to occupy his mind

I bet you’re smart

But do you know about me?

“You were just in the states last week, tell me again why can’t Arthur go and get this woman if she’s so needed here?” Tommy huffed as he finished lacing his shoes, snagging the cigarette from between his lips, looking up at Lizzy with a stare of annoyance as if he hadn’t explained several times before.

This was now the fifth week in a row that Tommy had met with Y/N due to “business”, Lizzie was already calling the bluff on that after a photo of the two of you together had been posted in the paper.

Rumors had already circled the Garrison that Thomas was involved with another woman and he had refused to make any comments regarding the accusations. 

Standing up he disposed of his cigarette, noticing the upset in his wife’s eyes. 

“Hey c’mere.” She allowed him to pull her near and dear into a hug but somehow even with his arms wrapped around her, he felt tremendously far away, straying further each time he’d come home.

“I’ll be back before you know it alright? Tell the children I love them.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, Lizzie tilted her chin up, hoping for more but all she received was Tommy walking out the door, leaving her bottom lip quivering, hands shaking with anxiety, knowing all too well how the story goes.

Going to the window, she watched him get into the car, glancing at his watch while Ruby’s footsteps hurriedly ran across the room, tugging at her mothers skirt. “Mommy, mommy! Where’s daddy going?” She looked down at their child, trying to come up with an answer suitable for a child.

“He’ll be back soon honey. Your father works hard to ensure our safety, and he loves us very much. He’ll be back soon.” Picking the child up, holding her closely to her heart she watched her husband leave, nothing but hopelessness filling her heart.

The fire was lit dimly in the living room as she settled with a cup of tea, trying to avoid picking up the paper but curiosity and the need to know getting the best of her.

Finishing off the tea, with shaking hands she looked at the headlines, her heart aching at how beautiful Y/N was. The picture was her and Tommy seated at a bar, far too closely to be just friends. Her legs were crossed like a lady but Tommy’s hand lay on her thigh, other arm wrapped behind her while she was smiling brightly, blushing like a girl in love.

She looked beautiful, attractive, young, strong, all the traits Lizzie didn’t feel she had anymore. A sudden, simple realization in the photo was almost too much to bare for her weeping heart when she realized Tommy’s wedding ring was no longer on his finger.

The question lingered in the air, did you even know about her, has Tommy told you he was married and if so why engage. Then again Lizzie was aware how convincing and manipulating her husband was. After all from the photo, you did strike her as smart but that didn’t take away from the younger facial features. If she had to guess you were in your mid twenties, and she was well aware how simple it was for men to deceive young women, especially when they were in love for the very first time.

Attempting to put her mindset in yours, she ganderd into Tommy’s office, opening multiple drawers and rummaging through scattered papers until she found the document of the deal.

Surely a young woman like yourself didn’t know how Tommy Shelby operated and to always read the fine print.

Skimming through the contract, she noticed your signature was not at the bottom yet which she believed to be rather odd, but maybe that was why he was bringing you back here. Why not just take it with him though?

All of the endless questions became answered with a simple sentence written in smaller, italicized text at the very bottom of the paper. Almost too small for even Lizzie to read.

“Termination of ownership shall commence after signature is received. Ownership of business transferred solely to receiving partner Thomas Shelby along with any additional funds requested.”

He was going to leave her with nothing. Absolutely nothing, high and dry. Lizzie knew very well what it was like to have nothing and try to find her way through life living off of the scraps of men. Searching the paper once more she found your address in the states, contacting one of Tommy’s assistants insisting that he get a letter to Y/N before it was too late on the behalf of Tommy. Simply stating he had forgotten to take an important paper. Maybe after all the wrongs she had committed in her life, this one good thing would act as a repetence.

Are you the one he's talkin' to

When he gets up and leaves the room

And comes back with a distance in his eyes?

Maybe I should be the one to leave

But damn, when he starts lovin' me

He makes me think I'm all that's on his mind

The knock on the door startled you from your reading. Glancing at the clock, a wide grinned expression spread across your face, knowing fully well who was at the other side of the door.

You’d been aware he was married but after some time of convincing, Tommy had ensured you he’d be leaving Lizzie and there was nothing to be ashamed of, nor feel guilt about. You had never met Lizzie, only heard about his wife through passerby’s conversations.

With the door opening, his piercing blue eyes enchanted your every being, reeling you in, never allowing you to take a second to think. It was like he put a spell on you. “I’ve missed you darling. We’re set to leave around four, surely plenty of time to…” He brushed his warm hand down your cheek sweetly, those ocean eyes scanning your body with such precision and crave. 

Jumping up into his arms, your legs wrapped around him as he kicked the door shut behind him, walking you into the bedroom as your lips collided together in a profound, lustful sensation.

As clothes were shed and he towered over you in the bed, your legs spread once more for this handsome, intimidating man.

He peppered poetic kisses down your neck, leaving marks on your shoulder blades as he thrusted momentously through your sweet succulency, fucking you in a way no other man could.

Impatience, and pure desire washing over you every time you saw his nude, muscular body, you thrusted down with him in harmonious rhythm, stemming your blooming rose with his cock. His eyes never once left yours, your fingers intertwining together as he released his seed into the tight, tunnel of love between your thighs.

When he excused himself to the restroom, out of the corner of your eye the wedding ring sitting atop the bedside table caught your attention. 

Was he really going to leave her? Are the children aware? What were you getting yourself into?

Hearing the toilet flush, the phone rang along with it, and it wasn’t long until you heard Tommy’s voice. Talking as if he were somewhere else, still closing the deal with you.

“We’ll be leaving soon….I invited her to dinner….it’s just business….alright see you soon.”

Just business? Is that all you were? Saddening, you rolled out of bed to retreive your clothes as if that would mask the betrayal and pain bubbling in your heart.

This exchange was supposed to be more than business, maybe not at first but you had grown up with nothing and Tommy was the only willing to invest in the idea of your, and the amount of money he invested was more than enough and made you feel like your ideas weren’t of nonsense or daydreams. One thing turned into another and once that pub opened after a tremendous amount of indecent flirting, you found yourself bent over the bar and Tommy making endless visits to your hometown, spending nights tangled between the sheets of your bed, him spoiling you with surprises and gifts. But what was it all for?

His heavy footsteps entering the room pulled you away from the questions.

Right away he could tell you were upset when your teary, pained eyes connected with his.

“Is that all I am to you is business?” He scoffed, approaching the clear understanding that you’d overheard the phone call and just like that with the flip of a switch his lips curled into a soft, endearing smile while his ocean eyes bore over you sincerely.

“Of course not. I’m trying to let her down easy Y/N. After we finish business, the loose ends will tie together and things will be settled. Alright?” Why did you believe this man who had promised you nothing? Why did his voice have to sound suave and convincing? Your mind was telling you one thing while your heart told you another.

Is it me? Is it you?

Tell me who

Who's the other girl?

Who's the first? Who's the fool?

Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?

Are you mad? Me too

And I wonder in his world

Is it me? Is it you?

Who's the other girl?

You stop to collect the post, realizing there was a letter addressed to you from Birmingham, surely it wasn’t Tommy considering he was in front of you.

Guilt, and shamefulness flooded your veins while your heart felt like it was waiting to explode in your throat. Contemplating on throwing the letter in the trash, you thought better and slipped the envelope into the clutch Tommy had bought you weeks beforehand.

Stopping along the way to put petrol in the car, you excused yourself to the restroom while Tommy went inside to pay the employee, grabbing a pack of smokes as he did so.

Locking the door and fumbling frantically, you ripped open the letter, not knowing what to expect but it was quite clear who wrote this.

             “Y/N. My name is Lizzie Shelby, 

I’ve presumed you’re aware of me. I’m writing this letter to inform you there is no hatred in my heart toward you. I’ve been in your position of the other woman. There’s no need to tell Thomas as we will meet soon. Don’t allow your heart to stop you from seeing the manipulation. I must speak with you when you arrive, please don’t take this as jealousy but coming from a woman who has been at the other hand.”

What did this mean? How did she know about you? Surely Tommy wouldn’t tell his wife about his mistress.

A sudden knock on the door reeled your mind away from the letter.

“You alright in there?” Checking yourself in the mirror and shoving the letter in the pocket of your purse, you opened the door, attempting to appear unpanicked and at ease.

“Yeah, just was washing my face, let’s go.”

Who's gonna put on the red dress

Scarlet letter on her chest

Can't love with this on her conscience

Tell me who's the other girl

I bet you're cool, I bet that's why

You seem to occupy his time

I bet by now

You know about me

And you know about me

Walking into the dining room, you were taken aback by just how much money Tommy had. The shimmering chandelier, the golden authentic tablecloth, the peruvian curtains, the fine china. Amidst your shock, Lizzie strutted into the room from the kitchen, cradling Ruby gently in her arms while Charlie was running circles around the house. Your eyes locking in a surprised, yet insecure expression while the question, the elephant in the room sat quaintly up in the air. Who did Tommy’s heart really belong to?

Strutting behind you, Tommy lay his hand gentleman like on your back, offering you a drink in the process.

“Y/N this is my lovely wife Lizzie. Very wise she is, and my two children Ruby and Charlie. Dinner is almost ready, sha’ll we sit?” You smiled kindly, ready to take your seat before Lizzie interrupted. Clearing her throat as Tommy pulled your seat out before her own.

“Actually, Y/N do you mind if I speak with you for a moment? I just have a million questions about the states, I’ve always wanted to go.” Tommy peered in her direction, slightly agitated but nodded that it was alright. Lizzie handed Ruby to Tommy, escorting you two rooms away into the living area.

She was poise, collected, much taller than yourself but never did you get the impression she was a threat, even though you considered the situation rather uncomfortable and off.

“I assume you’ve read my letter.” She spoke in a hushed tone, but with a kind hearted smile, insisting you take a seat across from her.

Nodding, a cat felt like it had a hold of your tongue, not knowing exactly how to respond or act.

Reading you like a book, she could tell you were quite nervous and maybe the best way possible to approach this was to come straight to the point head on.

Reaching for her purse, you couldn’t help but notice it was the same one Tommy had surprised you with but a different color. That’s odd.

Pulling out the contract, she allowed it to sit on the glass table in between you for a brief moment.

The hand writing you recognized right off the bat to be Thomas’s with the perfect cursive letters, simply reminding you off all the letters he had mailed to you when he was in Birmingham.

Shrugging off your confusion, you straightened your back, pretending as if you held confidence.

“Y/N is it?” Nodding, she carried on, glancing into the corridor, ensuring her husband wasn’t on his way in here.

When she spoke her voice was gentle, speaking with kind concern, and a soft tone.

“I remember when I was your age. So young and in love, willing to do anything just for another moment with a man. I assume this is you first-“

“How long have you known about me?” You interjected, anxiety and curiosity rising in your throat. She was beautiful, quite breathtaking and the children were so innocent and completely unaware of their father’s infidelity. Why would he do this to such a magnificent woman, whom carried his child. Guilt was eating away at your stomach.

“I’ve had my inklings for quite some time now. Probably back in November. How about you?”

“Mrs. Shelby I don’t mean any disrespect but the plan here tonight um-“ You itched at the back of your neck nervoulsy, the guilt and truth eating you alive.

“His plans you mean. I feel it my duty to inform you to read the fine print before you sign your business over to him.” Before you could respond Lizzie excused herself, not wanting to take longer than she already was without Tommy gaining suspicion.

Reading over the night quickly, you were in shock and disbelief, realizing Lizzie was the one telling the truth. Fighting back tears, you set the paper back down, wiping your teary eyes.

“Y/N, dinner’s prepared. We have your place set.” 

Who's the first? Who's the fool? 

Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?

Are you mad? Me too 

And I wonder in his world

Is it me?  Is it you? 

Who's the other girl?

“I suppose this dinner conversation is about the contract you’ve left mistakenly on the table. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Lizzie shifted in her seat as you took a deep perforated breath, thinking wisely before speaking. The atmosphere in the room came to a still, eyes wandering from one another in guilt and shame.

“This can’t be real. I-I thought we had a future together, we had a plan.” Your voice cracked, sadness washing over your aching heart while Lizzie looked confused from the other side of the table.

“I-I’m sorry what?” Settling his napkin over his thigh and sighing, he took a drink of his wine, clearing his throat.

“Did you think I would leave my family for you? My children?” Lizzie was stunned by the revelation that Tommy told you he was leaving her. Was she really just a pawn all along?

“Where does your heart truly belong Tommy?” Her eyes spoke with vindication, and impatience for her dying marriage. 

Tommy stood from his seat, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, allowing the cold stream of alcohol to stream down his throat, reminiscing the moment before lighting a cigarette.

“It’s just business. If I recall correctly, I’ve given you many things Y/N. A car, a home, enough money to live your life comfortably.” Lizzie scoffed in her seat, swirling the wine in her glass.

“Oh please, that’s not the only thing you’ve given her.”

“Nevertheless. With signing over your business you’d be doing yourself a favor and I knew by making you fall in love with me, that would be quite easy with me as the only investor. Such a small, inexperienced girl in a world full of wolves waiting to sink their teeth in. Signing your rights over would be the wisest thing to do. You give me the business, we’ll part ways just as business deals operate.” Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, as each venomous word he spoke shattered your heart.

All sense of reality diminished, any hope that a man could love you and take a risk for you seemed impossible.

This was no one night stand, but an ongoing affair and you were sat in the lions den between a rock and a hard place.

Lizzie frowned in her seat, thinking of where she went wrong that Tommy would throw their entire marriage away just for extra money he didn’t need. The cold hard truth was Tommy could buy out a business with a simple sentence, he wanted to fuck you and dispose of you.

“Clock’s ticking Y/N. What’s it going to be?” Time bore down on you, massive decisions between right and wrong impending a headache.

Tommy held out the pen, watching you sit there in defeat. 

Reaching for the pen, about to sign the paper Lizzie stood up grabbing the pen from your shaking grip, taking you both by surprise.

“No! Do not sign that pub over to him. After everything you’ve worked, all the time and effort you’ve taken into opening this place up. You’ve taken so many risks. Don’t do this Y/N, he has done nothing but manipulate. Please be wiser than I was at your age. He will leave you high and dry though you may not see it now, believe me.” Tommy’s shallow blue eyes rolled in irritation, slamming his drink down on the table nearly shattering the glass.

“Enough! I don’t recall your name on the contract Lizzie.”

“This is my fucking house as much as yours and I will not let you stomp and parade all over me any longer nor her. In fact I think I’ve just developed a new way of business. I want a divorce.” The room turned completely silent.

When you tried to get up and excuse yourself in unison they spoke loudly, “Sit down.”

Lizzie was fuming, the vein in her forehead visibly popping through her skin while her nostrils flared in anger.

Aiming for the contract, she picked it up ripping the paper in shreds while Tommy grasped for her wrists to try and stop her.

“You can expect to hear from my lawyer and I will be taking the children. They’re hardly yours, you’re never here to take care of them. The endless nights I dealt with them asking why their daddy is never home because he was fucking some other woman out of the country. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.” Tommy was at a silence, excusing himself from the room leaving you and Lizzie alone.

“Lizzie I- I really don’t have the money to keep this place open on my own. I can’t-“

“Well then consider me your next investor.” You were shocked by her statement, not expecting the sincere offer.

“I- I feel like I just tore apart your whole marriage, why would you want to do business with me?” Shaking her head, she smiled sweetly, raising her glass in satisfactionz

“No sweetheart, you got rid of my problem. I’m better off without him. We both are. So what do you say?”

[markrosewater]

Hi mark. There were a few people who had commented on the technology and aesthetic of Duskmourne and how it feels too close to the present, referencing planes like Capenna or Neo-kamigawa as other examples of modernity in Magic’s fantasy setting. Because I am the main character and my opinion is the most important one, I thought I’d give my two cents on the topic.

Although kamigawa and capenna are obviously more “modern” than a plane like innistrad, they still don’t feel like “now”. By definition, sci-fi is not modern. Although Neon kamigawa doesn’t feel like high fantasy, it doesn’t feel “modern” to me either, it’s too far in the future. In the opposite direction, Capenna feels too far in the past to feel “modern”. Yeah, arc spitter is a Tommy gun and the treasure token is a martini glass, but it still doesn’t feel like the present. My grandpa wasn’t even born until after the end of prohibition. Time period Capenna is based on was literally a century ago. Sure the aesthetic isn’t as far back in history as the aesthetic of a knight in shining armor, but it’s still far enough back that it feels like “another time”, at least to me.

I think the reason those two planes pass the vibe check is because they feel different enough from modern day. TV’s have existed since the late 1920’s, so it would have been historically accurate if the plane themed around 1920s America had TVs. but that still *feeeeeels* wrong. The vibes are off. Yeah sci fi japan would probably have cell phones or something, but that just feels wrong. In other words, fantasy (to me) isn’t about looking like lord of the rings, it’s about NOT looking like everyday life.

This is where Duskmourne comes in. I wasn’t alive in the 70’s or 80’s. Heck, I’m so young that my parents hadn’t even met until after homelands came out. But the 70’s and 80’s feels like modern day. Screaming nemesis and cursed recording have TVs in their art. The booster fun frame looks like it would be on a ghostbusters poster. I feel like I saw my baby cousin wearing the exact same outfit as Toby just the other day. The term “fear of missing out” is just such a modern day thing, even if that concept isn’t new. I’m withholding my judgement until I see the whole set, but based on what we’ve seen so far, I (somewhat) agree with the sentiment a lot of Duskmourne feels too “real”.

I’m sure more detail will be given closer to release, but I would be really interested in learning the whole process of how y’all built this world, even more interested than I would be with any other plane.

We're trying something new. Some people seem to like it, some don't. Time will show whether it was overall a good idea. I will say we need time to better gauge it. There are a lot of very popular Magic things that had an initial negative opinion.

[sage-lights]

this love’s possessing me

word count: 2085 Amanda unknowingly starts to tiptoe the line and now Angela wants all in. (as always, a huge thank you to @babychosen for being my sounding board and helping me workshop different ideas!)

Normally, Angela isn’t one to spend her Friday nights at a kitschy beach bar. It feels horribly cliche living in Los Angeles. But when Erin came barrelling into the office Monday morning raving about a small bar she found with Vida that past weekend, it undoubtedly piqued Angela’s interest. She’s gone out on the weekends with Erin enough times to know that her friends are particular about what she deems a place worth recommending to others.

Later that week, during their lunch break, the topic comes up again. Angela is sitting with Arasha, chatting idly about random topics when Arasha starts talking about how she went out a while ago with Fabian and Rowan.

“Are you talking about that tiny place in Venice?” Angela asks, holding a fork-full of food mid-air.

Arasha lights up, “Yeah, have you been?”

“No, but I think Erin’s been talking about the same place earlier this week.”

As if the sound of her name summoned her, Erin plops down at their table, “What about me?”

“Remember that beach bar you were telling us about? ‘Rash’s been too,” says Angela.

“Oh my god, no way!” Erin turns to Arasha, “What are you doing Friday night? You’ve gotta help me convince them to come.”

Arasha laughs, “Don’t worry, Tommy’s already in. He said, and I quote, ‘There’s no way that place is actually good, I’ve gotta go!’ And I’m pretty sure Court and Shayne will be down to come too!”

They look at Angela expectantly.

“Oh, um, I don’t know guys…”

“Come on! You’ve been so busy it’s been a while since you’ve had a night out with us,” pleads Erin.

Arasha nods, “It’ll be fun, I promise. The cocktails are cheap and not shitty. And I’m sure I can get Chanse to come with as well.”

“And it’s got karaoke,” Erin cheekily adds, her voice laced with a sing-songy quality.

In the same way Erin gets summoned by someone saying her name, Amanda is bound to appear the moment someone mentions karaoke.

“Karaoke where?” Doesn’t matter, I’m already in,” Amanda takes a seat right next to Angela. Almost like it’s on instinct, Amanda leans back and drapes her arm around Angela’s shoulders. “You’re coming too, right Ang?”

She groans, “Ugh, fine. Count me in.”

Which is how Angela found herself drinking sugary cocktails garnished with brightly colored paper umbrellas and a variety of tropical fruit slices. The bar was decked out in fairy lights and tiki decor.

Her friends were all scattered about the crowded space—Tommy and Chanse were chatting (more like flirting, if she was being honest) with the bartenders, Courtney and Arasha were waiting eagerly near the karaoke stage for their turn to sing a duet, and the rest of the group were talking and laughing loudly at a couple tables near the back.

Angela raises her glass to her lips and is disappointed to find she’s already finished her drink. There’s a pleasant buzz that courses through her, but it’s not prominent enough for her liking. If she’s going to let loose tonight, then she’s going to let loose.

Wandering over to the counter, she sidles up next to Tommy and Chanse, props her elbow to lean against the counter, and sets down her empty glass.

“Do you guys do a dirty martini here?” she asks.

Chanse rolls his eyes, “Of course they do, Ang. This is a bar.”

“I don’t know! What if they only do, like, tropical themed drinks here?”

Tommy snickers, “You’d think she snuck in here or something. It’s like she’s never been to a bar before.”

“Get off my back!” Angela faces the amused bartender, deciding to make him an ally if her friends are going to turn on her. “I’d like to personally apologize for any bullshit you’ve had to endure talking to my two idiot friends. They’re the absolute worst.”

“Hey!” Chanse yells indignantly.

The bartender chuckled, wiping condensation from his hands before reaching for her empty glass, “I’ll get you that dirty martini.”

“Thank you! Hey, do you want to be my new best friend? I’m currently taking applications to replace these two!” shouts Angela, to which Chanse slaps her arm, a little harder than he intended. He winces.

She pouts, “Ow, what the fuck?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy shakes his head lovingly, “you two are ridiculous.”

Angela opens her mouth, about to retort when she’s cut off by Amanda magically appearing to her right side.

“What are you guys going tucked away over here?”

“There was a really cute bartender that Angela just scared away,” Chanse tries to point subtly at the man now on the far side pouring the martini from a silver shaker.

Amanda sneaks a glance over Tommy’s shoulder, “Oh, he is cute!”

“Shhh! You’re being too obvious, Amanda!” scolds Chanse.

She ignores him, laughing. “So, who’s going home with his number?”

“Oh no, I’m too busy to date right now. Plus, he’s so not my type,” clarifies Tommy, “I’m just trying to wingman for Chanse tonight.”

“How’s it going? Have you guys gotten anywhere?” Amanda prods.

The boys launch straight into recounting every single second of their conversation with the bartender from the moment they said hello. Angela smiles and nods along, occasionally lobbing insults (that lacked any real fire behind them) at Chanse.

At some point during the conversion—Angela’s not entirely sure when it happened—Amanda snakes her hand around Angela’s waist and shifts her weight onto one leg, leaning further into Angela’s personal space. She’s close enough that Angela could feel the warmth radiating from her skin and the faint brush of Amanda’s breath against her neck.

It’s been happening more often recently. An arm slung around Angela’s shoulders, a hand on her waist, a caressing thumb over her knuckles. All these little touches that make Angela’s heart skip. Amanda has never been one to shy away from physical touch and the touches are innocent enough to be friendly, but they linger just long enough to make her hope for something more.

Not that Angela’s complaining. It’s just…interesting. In the dimly lit room and with her cheeks already flushed a little rosy from the alcohol, she’s just hoping no one will clock the way her body heats up more as Amanda slowly runs her fingers up and down her side.

This happened to be one of the rare nights Angela wore a crop top, giving Amanda’s hand direct contact with her skin. The touch of her fingers on Angela’s bare skin sent a jolt through her, like a live wire sparking with each stroke leaving her a little more breathless.

Angela swears there was something about the way Amanda is stroking her that made her feel even drunker.

“Hello? Earth to Angela!”

She blinks, registering Chanse’s waving hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a second. What were you saying?”

“We’ve got to cut her off after this drink,” jokes Tommy, attempting to reach over and gingerly take Angela’s martini glass from her hand. She snatches her hand back.

“Guy, I’m fine. I swear. I’ve barely had anything to drink.”

“We’ll, as a first time drinker, you’ve got to take it slow,” Chanse mocks.

“Shut up!” Angela returns his earlier favor, and wacks his arm back.

“Okay, that actually hurt, bitch.”

“Your bitch count is at four today, bitch!”

“Whatever,” tsks Chanse before redirecting his attention back to the conversation they were previously having, leaving Angela glad that they didn’t keep questioning her about what she was thinking about.

Angela’s mind drifts again, her attention slowly returning when she feels something tickling her side. At first, she thought it was the tag of her shirt, so she wiggles around trying to slightly jostle it into a new position. But the prickling sensation travels lower and lower, and oh.

Amanda’s hand has made its way into the back pocket of her jeans. Amanda’s hand is in her pocket.

It’s not like Amanda is acting inappropriately (if anything about this situation can even be considered “appropriate”); she’s not squeezing Angela’s ass or anything. Her hand is just there. Firm, but not moving. Warm, undoubtedly noticeable, and, as much as Angela doesn’t want to admit it, comforting.

She looks up wide eyed, searching for some kind of acknowledgement in Amanda’s eyes. Luckily, Amanda catches Angela staring at her and it’s like this bubble that they’re in has burst because she suddenly realized exactly where her hand has wandered.

The moment that Angela feels Amanda try to pull away, she reaches behind her and holds Amanda’s hand there.

“Ang—,” Amanda begins.

Angela leans in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I like it when you touch me like that.” The words come out before she can stop herself, a quiet confession buried under the noise of the bar.

Amanda stares, dazed. And blinks. Oh, she’s actually serious about this. Carefully, she slips her hand fully back into Angela’s pocket. Only then does Angela loosen her vice grip on her wrist.

Chanse is thankfully none the wiser, still babbling on about the bartender. Tommy, on the other hand, notices how stiff Amanda now seems. They lock eyes and he slowly lowers his gaze to where Amanda’s hand is buried.

He raises an eyebrow and mouths, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she replies silently, though she can tell that Tommy isn’t even a little bit convinced. He’s about to ask again, but Amanda shakes her head, telling him to drop it.

But, he doesn’t.

“I’ve been standing way too long. We should join everyone because I need to take a seat,” announces Tommy.

Chanse shrugs and follows, leaving Angela and Amanda alone in silence. They don’t say anything as Amanda removes her hand, and this time, Angela doesn’t stop her.

“Well, I should probably get going,” she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Amanda’s touch.

“Come say ‘bye’ to everyone at least?” Amanda asks, voice gentle, her eyes searching Angela’s face.

“Say ‘bye’ for me,” Angela pulls out her phone and taps the screen, “My UberEats is about to get to my house anyways.”

“Of course it is. I’ll walk you out.”

They stop by the curb, standing in the soft glow of a streetlamp, and Angela sighs. Outside, the night air hits Angela like a wave, cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth inside.

It’s sobering, but not enough to dim the electric current between them. Her pulse quickens, heat blooming in her chest as she thinks about Amanda’s touch, her warmth, and before she can stop herself, the words spill out.

“You should come home with me,” her words slurred but sincere. It’s vulnerable, though there’s an obvious desire that burns in her eyes as well.

Amanda’s lips part as if she’s going to say yes, but she hesitates and sighs, “Angela…I want to. Trust me, I do. But…”

Angela frowns, confused, her heart sinking at the rejection. “But?”

Amanda strokes Angela’s cheek gently, her thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. “You’ve been drinking, and I…I’m not sure what this all means yet.”

The words land heavily between them, leaving Angela speechless. Behind her, she hears a car pull up and hears the driver call her name.

Amanda presses a soft kiss to Angela’s forehead, her lips lingering just a moment longer than they should. The tenderness in the kiss tells Angela everything—there’s something there, but Amanda’s not ready to face it. The warmth of it lingers, though it only deepens the ache in Angela’s chest, the unanswered question of where they stand hanging heavy between them.

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay?” she opens the door for Angela to climb in.

“Good night, ‘Manda.”

“Good night, honey.”

Through the window, Angela watches as Amanda grows smaller in the distance until it’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

She turns to look out the window, catching one last glimpse of Amanda, her figure bathed in a soft glow. There’s something painfully beautiful about the sight, but it only makes Angela’s chest tighten.

As the car pulls away, Amanda grows smaller and smaller until she’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

(About an hour later, Amanda checks her phone and sees a selfie of Angela and Spork sitting on her bed with a bowl of pasta in her lap. She smiles and double taps the image.)

[dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai]

WIP! I haven't missed it!

Happy 4th anniversary, HLVRAI!

[bidisasterevankinard]

Fuck it Friday

I had inspiration for bucktommy date night where Buck is in a dress so here's more (who forgot/doesn't know how dress look under cut is the photo)

“What are you doing?” 

Evan raises his eyebrow with adorable head tilt and Tommy just smirks at him, when he drips the remains of a cocktail, the name he doesn’t remember, onto Evan's exposed neck, enjoying the way the drops flow closer to the neckline on his chest. Licking all the tracks from the skin with his tongue, Tommy revels in the sharp intake of breath and the way Evan's body shudders under his tongue. Tommy grins. Evan's skin smells like floral shower gel and a little sweat from being in a slightly stuffy room. This blend with tart-sweet alcohol turns Tommy's head better than rum and tequila in their cocktails.

“Enjoying my cocktail and my hot boyfriend. Two in one,” Tommy winks and Evan smiles at him. “Tell me more about cocktails and its history.”

Evan beams and pushes his body so now he sits on his lap, having easy access to his ear.

“The most expensive cocktail in the world costs $22,579.”

Tommy chokes on his beverage.

“Yeah, I had the same reaction. It’s a Diamonds Are Forever Martini at the Ritz Carlton in Tokyo. It’s made from vodka, lime juice, and a one carat diamond.”

“Will you make this at home for a cheaper price?” Tommy nuzzles Evan’s neck.

“When l will propose to you,” Evan nods.

“What if I do it first?”

“Then I’ll do it for our first night as husbands, before fucking you like a king.”

Tommy growls and grinds his again half hard cock into Evan’s perfect little ass.

“It’s a deal, baby,” he bites Evan’s earlobe. “Tell me more.”

“One last fact and we’re dancing, right?” 

Evan bats his eyelashes, pouting, and his blue eyes getting so adorably soft and pleading, that Tommy would kill a man or steal the moon if Evan just asked him like that.

God, this fucking kid. He can make a man do anything he wants with just his pretty face.

Np tagging @wikiangela @bewilderedbuckley @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @diazheartsbuckley @queerbuck @queerdiaz @watchyourbuck @epiphainie @evnnkinard @evansboyfriend @evanbi-ckley @eddiestummy @repressedqueen @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @pirrusstuff @underwaterninja13 @saybiwithme @devirnis @lavenderleahy @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @cal-daisies-and-briars @buckera @bi-buckrights @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @theweewooshow @eddiebabygirldiaz and you if you want to