epiphainie

[epiphainie]

wip wednesday (belated tidbit tuesday)

hello i promise i'm still writing...kind of, maybe. sometimes. but i was tagged by the lovely @tizniz for tease tidbit tuesday but it's wednesday now so...wip wednesday. continuation of this

The sick feeling in his stomach grows. A clammy chill prickles across his skin, making the damp hair on the back of his neck stand on end.  Maybe…maybe the call got dropped and then— then his phone glitched out. Or maybe it’s the service? That has to be it. The service is bad on Bobby’s end and Buck needs to be the one to call so it will actually go through.  Buck’s phone is pressed to his ear before he even forms a conscious thought of doing so.  His renewed sense of conviction dies quickly. The phone doesn’t even ring this time, sending Buck straight to voicemail.  The animal sound from before is back, and it’s louder— getting stuck in the back of his throat as he draws in a shaky inhale. He forces himself to swallow it down.  "Bobby— h-hi, um, I-I," Buck's words sputter out, throat going tight and choking him. "C-can you— could, could you call me back? Please? Just w–want to make sure you're okay."

no pressure tagging @honestlydarkprincess @princessfbi @laurenttheninth @allisonrw96 @mellaithwen

@maygrantgf @iinryer @try-set-me-on-fire @epiphainie @devirnis

and anyone else who has something they want to post! i'm tagging u all!! (i don't remember who is writing what i am so out of the game)

[epiphainie]

This scenario reminds me of a fic I read eons ago where Buck was trying to romance Tommy more, since he’s mister romcom, but ever time he did something romantic he’d end up bent over something afterwards. He likes it, yeah, but he’s trying to be romantic here, dammit!

Bucks on one side going: I’m trying to romance you, stop distracting me with sex

Meanwhile, Tommy’s on the other side going: he’s being really romantic today. I kind of want to fuck him about it.

wait, i love this and i wanna read this

related but alternatively i was thinking of buck being made aware just how much sex him and tommy are having, like an off-hand comment someone makes about how not every date needs to end with sex and it's nice to sit together sometimes, so he's like oh no are we only having sex, just indulging in buck's learning every night (bc let's be real, they lowkey were) so he's like, no, i'll prove (to myself) that we are a well-rounded couple who can and would love to spend time together without it leading to sex

so you have him removing tommy's hand when he feels it on his thigh, trying to turn tommy's attention back to the movie they are watching, and straight up breaking kisses and jumping off the couch when the touches he couldn't stop start getting too heavy and tommy's like, beyond confused lol

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Buck feels real stupid that evening when Tommy whisks him away to a surprise dinner date at a nice restaurant he’s always wanted to try. Tommy asks if he wants to go stay at his cousin’s vacation home in Big Bear next month for that weekend they have off together. It’s all very romantic. Buck’s still peeved about his lack of good morning blowie. And fuck this guy, right? No mention of Valentine’s Day all day and then he still gets to be all romantic in the evening and Buck’s just supposed to let him win the holiday?

(Buck does, in fact, fuck that guy when they get home. He’s semi-cooled off by then.)

he does in fact fuck that guy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i think my favorite version of this is like, tommy's not even trying to keep a surprise till the evening. he just assumes yeah they'll have a nice dinner later in the evening, that's what you do on valentines day with your long term partner, so he's not even vying for any sort of special reaction from buck let alone thinking buck cursed him and forgave him like 17 times in his head since that blowie lacking morning

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i really have no scenario for this right now but i adore adore adore buck scowling/pouting/being passive aggressive and tommy just being like c'mere and pulling him close and kissing him kind of fondly shaking his head or rolling his eyes as buck continues to be pouty through it. but after a couple pecks and tommy teasing him about his behavior his expression melts a little and he bites back his smile

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why did i skip this ep lol i love these queens and the twist was awesome

i love it when the smosh cast is on dropout

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this episode is killing meeee esp angela

i love it when the smosh cast is on dropout

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izzy looks so beautiful in this episode

i love it when the smosh cast is on dropout

[epiphainie]

Hello mimi I will do you bidding and ask for some 🏠🏠🏠 from you please and thank you!!!

nameless roommates fic that's been eating my mind, yes. this is right beginning of it, sorry there's no tommy in it yet and i'm still trying to find the vibes! mwah 🩷💖 @overtea @kinardnatural @setmeatopthepyre @a-mel0n @hyperfocusthusly @siratonin

It looks like stained glass, like Bobby’s church, like backlit gems where the light catches on the bottles of amaretto, ruby, and jade lined up along the mirrored shelves of the bar. Buck doesn’t know it yet but he falls tonight. Sinks. Like clear ice sliding down crystal glass. Somewhere along Santa Monica Boulevard, in the arms of West Hollywood, he’s in a club that glows from within. The music thuds in his teeth, the bodies ride the thick air of their joint breath, sweat, cologne, and vape, and the light diffuses, haloes. It hits the wet labels and the bending lines of glass, the polished surface of the counter and the pools of liquor that swims through Buck’s gaze. Ankle hooked around the stool, he pushes himself off his ass. “Hey!” he shouts over the pulsing beat. “How does one drink a bottle of tequila here?” That’s what the top shelf is. Gleaming silver and drops of gold. Buck knows the classics, margaritas and sunrise, tequila sour and palomo he learned one summer on the white beaches of Lima with sand warm between his toes, but you don’t go through an entire bottle of hard spirits sipping on cocktails. Buck’s not a drunk, and he’s not drunk, and he doesn’t even know if he’s here to be drunk, but he muses. About neat drinks, straight drinks, shot glasses in a row, and the mouth of a bottle right between his lips. There must be something more practical, more tenable, more point-blank to all this. Especially for Buck who’s tall and big, has become tall and big between now and being fourteen getting blitzed on cheap beer for the first time in the basement of Jeremy Mclean. He was pretty, Jeremy, with a beauty mark under his lip. Buck never understood why it made him feel things. “We don’t serve one a bottle of tequila,” the bartender tells him, brows quirked. He doesn’t have a beauty mark but Buck looks at him. “Are you sure?” he asks because in his mind’s eye he can see Bobby sitting on a stool like this drinking from one of those bottles holding gold. Not in a gay club and not anywhere this loud, but one long drink for one man. “I’m sure, handsome.” Maybe somewhere grey. Like that room he used to rent before he broke down in front of Buck and Hen. That room very similar to the one Buck has all packed-up life occupying right now. Grey, destitute, and a little sad. Sparkling shots of Jose Cuervo feels wrong in that still. He doesn’t even know if Bobby’s drink was tequila.

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i love it when the smosh cast is on dropout

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lowkey had my first meal of the day just now

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You needn’t worry for a thing, sir.

@theterrorbingo​ fill: Thomas Jopson

[epiphainie]

Hello mimi I will do you bidding and ask for some 🏠🏠🏠 from you please and thank you!!!

nameless roommates fic that's been eating my mind, yes. this is right beginning of it, sorry there's no tommy in it yet and i'm still trying to find the vibes! mwah 🩷💖 @overtea @kinardnatural @setmeatopthepyre @a-mel0n @hyperfocusthusly @siratonin

It looks like stained glass, like Bobby’s church, like backlit gems where the light catches on the bottles of amaretto, ruby, and jade lined up along the mirrored shelves of the bar. Buck doesn’t know it yet but he falls tonight. Sinks. Like clear ice sliding down crystal glass. Somewhere along Santa Monica Boulevard, in the arms of West Hollywood, he’s in a club that glows from within. The music thuds in his teeth, the bodies ride the thick air of their joint breath, sweat, cologne, and vape, and the light diffuses, haloes. It hits the wet labels and the bending lines of glass, the polished surface of the counter and the pools of liquor that swims through Buck’s gaze. Ankle hooked around the stool, he pushes himself off his ass. “Hey!” he shouts over the pulsing beat. “How does one drink a bottle of tequila here?” That’s what the top shelf is. Gleaming silver and drops of gold. Buck knows the classics, margaritas and sunrise, tequila sour and palomo he learned one summer on the white beaches of Lima with sand warm between his toes, but you don’t go through an entire bottle of hard spirits sipping on cocktails. Buck’s not a drunk, and he’s not drunk, and he doesn’t even know if he’s here to be drunk, but he muses. About neat drinks, straight drinks, shot glasses in a row, and the mouth of a bottle right between his lips. There must be something more practical, more tenable, more point-blank to all this. Especially for Buck who’s tall and big, has become tall and big between now and being fourteen getting blitzed on cheap beer for the first time in the basement of Jeremy Mclean. He was pretty, Jeremy, with a beauty mark under his lip. Buck never understood why it made him feel things. “We don’t serve one a bottle of tequila,” the bartender tells him, brows quirked. He doesn’t have a beauty mark but Buck looks at him. “Are you sure?” he asks because in his mind’s eye he can see Bobby sitting on a stool like this drinking from one of those bottles holding gold. Not in a gay club and not anywhere this loud, but one long drink for one man. “I’m sure, handsome.” Maybe somewhere grey. Like that room he used to rent before he broke down in front of Buck and Hen. That room very similar to the one Buck has all packed-up life occupying right now. Grey, destitute, and a little sad. Sparkling shots of Jose Cuervo feels wrong in that still. He doesn’t even know if Bobby’s drink was tequila.

[epiphainie]

[epiphainie]

humbly asking for some ☀️

– @bisexualbrainrots

okay as always i'm gonna do a long(ish) excerpt sharing for each of these instead of writing a bit for each as bc my mind doesn't really function like that. all of this is always subject to change! mwah all of you 💛 @a-mel0n @rosyhoneydew @beanarie @klutzygirl

“And you’re lying, Evan, if you say you don’t feel pretty like this,” he said, licking at Evan’s shiny throat, tasting his sweat, feeling his overheated skin. “Look how wet you are, baby. Just how pretty you are leaking into my fist.” “Tommy. Please.” Tommy gave another squeeze. “So, so pretty.” “Tomm—” He crushed their mouths, swallowing the rest of his name from Evan’s lips. Open-mouthed and unguarded, Evan shivered against him, having no choice but to let his moans be fed into Tommy’s mouth as Tommy appreciated each of them like he appreciated the soft flesh of his tongue. With his hand freed from the curls, he grabbed at the meat of Evan’s ass, urging them as close as Evan’s belly would allow. It hardly felt like an obstacle. Tommy loved it. He loved it a bit more in the moment than he’d ever realized as Evan broke out into goosebumps under his touch and made pebbles of his own rise on Tommy’s exposed nape. With a gravely chuckle, he dipped lower. “Look, baby.” His throat burned dry and his hands worked clumsier. “Look how you’ve already soiled this pretty thing. You wanna ruin them for me, don’t you, sweetheart?” With a keen, Evan shook his head.

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evan "valentines day is a scam by women to make us buy them gifts" buckley is the most annoying mf expecting to be pampered on special days once him and tommy sort their issues and are so obviously for forever btw. tommy doesn't wake him up with the blowjob he deserved on the morning of february 14th and buck marches into the kitchen scowling. tommy's like, unaware this was an expectation let alone something he promised

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Part of true yearning is looking stupid as hell to everyone who doesn’t get it

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not to air out our laundry but me and zahraa are going through our third divorce in the last 6 months