#donolinc

[ctrvpani]

Moments where Lincoln and Donovan know when something is up

[gianniscringespace]

The only unrealistic thing is Donovan having the energy to yell after all that but he probably would say something really unserious the second he was handed the baby.

Hello little Danielle! Your dad's are both dorks and also criminals! You are very loved though!

[lostheaventales]

Paralives is coming out today at 10 am. I was going to wait to get it but they are going to increase the price as updates are added, so I’m going to get while it’s at its least. And guess who I’m going to be creating first. Sad that in order for them to have children they’d have to adopt (which I’m not sure if that’s available in early access but if not I’ll just create a child in the para maker) but hopefully men would be able to get pregnant in a future update or through modding.

And to anybody who wants to get this game but is scared of any future payments: all future updates and dlc will be FREE!!! But it depends on when you buy because the price will go up.

This is the first life sim that’s not THE sims that I’ve actually been excited for. I wasn’t interested in inzoi because I don’t really like the realistic graphics and the fact it uses AI. This is completely AI free as far as we know.

A little update: I forgot that specs were a thing and I’m not sure my computer will handle it, so I will test it out first. And if it can’t or the lag is unbearable, I will refund it.

Another update: I’m going to wait until they expand on families, so I’ll most likely get it towards the end of the year.

[weetlebeetle]

Dreamy sigh. DonoLinc.

[rottingmanifesto]

B-Side

John convinces Lincoln to dance with him.

Note: I am not a “soft” writer by any stretch of the imagination, so take this attempt with a grain of salt. Comments are appreciated!

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just didn’t think you were the ‘dancing’ type.”

Lincoln leans in the peeled-paint doorway, sideways grinning. A flustered John quickly removes the needle off the platter as the music sputters to a stop. Lincoln lets out a little laugh. John’s dressed as he always is— minus the coat and with the tie a little loose— with a cigarette in his mouth. He quickly takes it out and ashes it.

“Ha ha, well, you didn’t see anything if anybody asks.” He signals for Lincoln to come in.

“Didn’t see a thing,” Lincoln echoes, throwing his hands up. “You didn’t tell me you could dance.”

“You never asked.” He plops down in the motel’s wooden chair, lighting a different cigarette. Like that man needed any more than he already had. Shit’s a fire hazard at this point. Lincoln closes the door and eyes his watch.

“Didn’t think about askin’ about it.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

Lincoln rolls his eyes.

“So, what brings you here at eleven-thirty at night?”

“Eleven-thirty-two. An’ nothing. Just needed a place to lie low. Unless you have an objection to it—”

“No, you’re fine,” John hastily responds. “So long as you don’t mind the mess.”

“Never have.” Lincoln picks up a folder and examines it. Derazio file. Useless now that he’s dead, but John might’ve been holding onto it as a souvenir. Or as collateral. “So, ballroom dancin’?”

“Are you really going to harp on that?” He groans.

“What, I can’t be curious ‘bout what you do?”

John ashes another cigarette mid-way through and adjusts his tie. “It’s— private.”

“I got all night to listen.” He pulls up a seat on the opposite side of John’s desk and hovers.

John sighs. “You aren’t gonna let go of this, are you?”

“Nope.” Curiosity had gotten the best of him.

“Fine. Jesus Christ, you’re stubborn.”

“One of my many virtues.”

“Yeah, sure.” He ashes yet another cigarette, face tinted pink. “My old man taught me when he was around. Said ‘every young man should know’.” He puts on an accent for the last phrase, half-smiling at the memory. “Served me very well, as you can see.”

“Didn’t know‘ servin’ you well’ meant bein’ a fed.”

“Fuck you. You know I was being sarcastic. At least I’m not one of Hoover’s fairies.”

Lincoln laughs while John rolls his eyes and grabs a bottle from behind the desk. He pours Lincoln a glass and sets it back down.

“Surprised you learned how to dance, given your dad’s track record.” Lincoln finally sits down. Shit, these chairs weren’t meant for sitting.

“Well, he was a man full of surprises, I’ll give him that.”

“That’s one way of puttin’ it.” Lincoln shrugs. He’d heard stories of all the shit Donovan Sr. had done while over in ‘Nam. Some hard-ass World War II vet who never quite let go of his battlefield glory.

John hands him a package of Camels.

“Never learned how to dance myself.”

“Really? Perla didn’t teach you?” John raises a skeptical eyebrow, bemused.

He downs part of his drink. “She, uh, tried. Got two left feet when it comes to that.” The memories of late-night dance lessons came to mind. Anything beyond that would either have him fall flat on his ass or flat on his face. Ellis had laughed at him at the time, but he always tried again.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, you want me to prove it?”

This could go one of two ways. One, he accepts it, or two—

“Sure,” John shrugs, “I can lead you if you want.”

Whether it was the whiskey for the feelings, Lincoln’s face flared with heat for a split-second. He swallows whatever’s in his mouth. “I ain’t so sure—”

“Oh, so now you’re backing down?”

“I’m not a dancer.”

John steals a sip from Lincoln’s glass. “C’mon. Just once. I’ll show you the basics.”

“Fine,” Lincoln relents. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve said no. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he just wanted to fuck it up to prove a point. “Don’t laugh if I fuck up.”

“No promises.”

Lincoln drinks the rest of his glass. He’d need it.

John flips the track over to the B-side and puts the needle back into place.

“Okay, so first—”

“Wait, ain’t this a waltz song?”

“Yeah. What, are you questioning my music taste?”

“Hell yeah I’m questionin’ your music taste. Aren’t waltzes hard or some shit?”

“I’m starting you off with the basics. You’ll take the male lead this time, I’ll take the female lead.”

Lincoln chews the inside of his cheek. “An’ you’re okay with this?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t’ve asked.”

“Fair enough.”

“So the woman follows the man. Step forward with your left foot, then step diagonal with your right foot.”

“Like this?”

John glances down then shrugs. “Eh, close enough.”

—

“You know, you aren’t that bad.”

Lincoln glances up from his drink. They’d spent maybe twenty minutes doing something adjacent to dancing before John’s hand started acting up.

“Really? ‘Cause Roxy said I was shit.”

“Well, she’s not wrong necessarily.”

“Fuck you, man.”

John fiddles with his tie. “But really. I’ve seen worse. Jesus Christ, this tie won’t work with me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re doin’ it with one hand.”

John’s hand spasms. “No shit.”

“Want some help?”

“I— fine. Sure.” He lets his good hand drop. “Tonight’s been fun.”

“Thought your definition of fun was listenin’ into people’s conversations,” Lincoln says, smirking, while loosening John’s tie. “That or fuckin’ shit up.”

“I can have more than one hobby.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“But— thanks. For uh, for the dance. And the tie.”

Lincoln takes the cigarette from behind John’s ear, lighting it up and sticking it in his own mouth. “I’ll swing by in the morning.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

[naomana]

[moved-to-arcticlogik]

'say cheese!'

[tommytranselo]

cracking myself up over my new donolinc headcanon...homophobic gay king john donovan doing his damnedest to flirt with lincoln but in this really awkward half-joking-but-not-really way that comes off as like...straight dude bravado but takes it a little too far for plausible deniability.  and lincoln really doesn’t know what to make of it but he’s like, so are you into me, or...??

edit: come to think of it, lincoln deliberately not pushing him too much the first time donovan tries to flirt because it forces donovan to initiate and confirm he’s actually attracted to him, so he can’t turn around and say “no YOU were hitting on me” later