#action ‘stache

[oeuvrinarydurian]

Happy Morsestache Monday!!

I present to you “Action ‘Stache”, a.k.a. Mustache in Action. 

I know guns are bad, but the bad guys are worse.

“…like you shot George Fancy…?!?”

Thursday says, “Put him down!”

Jago shot Box and yet I stand frozen with my gun on him as he bleeds. I am unaccustomed to violence. I’m more of a violent thinker and drinker.



Everybody good is alive.

“I’ll be needing a car. A Jaguar. KAN 169 please.”

“I can manage”

[extrashortshorts]

Someone has very specific...tastes🧐

←

[stagefoureddiediaz]

The Helena diaz of it all has me fascinated. I’ve said for a long while that Eddie’s real issues are his mommy issues and this episode just cemented for me that we’re gonna explore that and deal with it.

Because it’s Helena who forced Eddie to grow up to fast - because her husband wasn’t around much - so she pushed Eddie into de facto parent and husband role ls - selfishly filling her needs and ignoring the damage it was doing to her son (it is a form of abuse in my book).

Eddie then had the audacity to fall in love with and marry Shannon and get her pregnant. It’s why Helena was always so off with Shannon - she was punishing her. She is also punishing Eddie for all of this and his refusal to return to El Paso only cemented further her bitterness and resentment.

Now she does have Ramon back she doesn’t need Eddie any longer to fill that role so she is still punishing him and part of that is tied into her glee over now getting to parent Christopher - something she has always been intent on doing the doppelgänger just gave her the opportunity- as well as allowing her to further punish her son and his love of Shannon.

Her barbed comments about building a pool were all about showing what she can provide Christopher - how she is parenting him better than Eddie - it’s part of her mind games - making Eddie feel like more of a failure as a parent to his son.

The reality of course is that the reverse is true - Helena’s parenting is all superficial, flash and showy - it isn’t the hard day to day parenting when things get tough and you have to be the bad guy. While Eddie has made mistakes, there is nothing superficial, flash, or showy about his parenting. It’s why bucks comments about Eddie being a great dad are so important.

Eddie feel like a failure right now and that he is entirely to blame for everything. But in reality, while he does bear a bit of the responsibility, the truth of the matter is that he needs to learn and deal with the fact that all of it actually stems from Helena and her abuse of her young son - Shannon never stood a chance just like Eddie never has.

[xxzapvanityxx]

but what if... we got a lil facial hair action going along on t.... last night i had a vision and realised id actually kinda be really ok with that

[puplee]

TOBY ROGERS HEAD CANONS I HAVE !! ☆

.* CW ; Mention of drug use / sh. *.

None of this is necessarily supposed to be taken seriously so please don't tug on my balls or anything. :')

I'm gonna do a list of HCs that lean on the more " realistic " side and then some that are just kinda for fun !! YAYAYYAYAYAY !!

★ —

Okay firstly, Toby absolutely smells like shit and sweat. (*DUE TO HIS CIPA, NO HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY SWEAT*) There is NO doubt about it. I gotta admit, seeing HCs that are like "He probably smells like vanilla!" just don't sit right with me because he definitely is a very smelly man

He chews on things he isn't supposed to ( real ) ( technically canon ; did it to his cheek and hands )

He probably mutters to himself on the regular like, nonstop, incoherent bullshit that's literally about nothing

He drools out of his cheek gash unintentionally

* He would probably be a stoner. Whenever he actually attended school he got his hands on it every once in awhile, probably STINKS of weed

HE IS AN ABSOLUTE LOSER. Probably listens to midwest emo music and cries to it like a bitch 😒

If he holds hands with someone he fidgets with their fingers

He's really nitpicky about his bandages, if they aren't wrapped on the correct way he hyper focuses on it for hours until they're just right

HE PLAYS WITH ACTION FIGURES. Not necessarily in a childish way but he likes to pose them

He paces

* Self inflicted scars like all across his body ( this is technically canon but we ball )

Can barely grow like any facial hair so whenever he starts to have a little bit of a stache coming in he savors the moment

Cannot cook. Burns his food

Loves raccoons so much. Tries to cuddle them but usually gets his face mutilated by some claws if he even gets near one

His favorite hero is Wolverine because he relates to him in a way

Sits down in the shower ( whenever he actually remembers to shower )

One time he got caught in a bear trap and walked around with it clamped to his leg for like a day

Major jealousy problems, especially whenever slenderman is giving the other proxies more attention than him. He takes it so seriously because he sacrificed his relationship with his mom to live this life

Gets hella annoyed when his goggles fog up because they do A LOT

Picks bugs up off the ground

He has HORRIBLE posture

AWKWARD LOSER

Of course we're all well aware of his regular get up but whenever he's chilling at the mansion he's always wearing some beat up band tee and some sweats or cargo shorts

I THINK THAT THAT'S IT FOR RN!! But I'm obsessed with him so I'm probably adding onto it and making a few changes here and there

:3

[feudalconnection]

Term 3 2024 Winners!

As always, us mods here at FeudalConnection want to give a huge thank you to everyone who participated in the Third Term 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards! Your participation and support for this fandom is simply incredible!

As a reminder, the winners have evolved into First, Second, and Third place awards. We are allowing ties for first place winners, rather than go into a run off period.

- For categories with up to four nominations, a First place banner will be awarded to the winner.

- For categories which received five to six nominations, First and Second place banners will be awarded to the winners.

- For categories which received up to seven to ten nominations, First, Second, and Third place banners will be awarded to the winners.

And now, without further delay, here we are!

Winners for Term 3 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards, hosted by FeudalConnection!

Best Action/Adventure Fiction

First Place: "In the Blood" by @dawnrider

Best Alternate Universe/Reality Fiction

First Place: "Sense and Sensibility, An Inuyasha Retelling" by @ruddcatha Second Place: "What Happens in Vegas" by @rainandyarn

Best Canon Universe Fiction

First Place: "Love Language" by @shikonstar Second Place: "Sesshomaru: A Feudal Fairy Tale" by @acb6293

Best Angst Fiction

First Place: "Held Up in the Rain" by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3) Second Place (tie): "Legacy" by @fandomobsessions016 and "Sacrifices" by @elkonigin

Best Dark Fiction

First Place: "Broken" by @my-inukag-fanfiction Second Place (tie): "Still a Fan" by TheMondayChild (AO3) and "Legacy" by @ fandomobsessions016

Best Drama Fiction

First Place: "We Can't Be Friends" by Red_Spiderliliy (AO3) Second Place: "Inevitable" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3)

Best Humor/Parody Fiction

First Place: "the yakuza boyfriend" by @thegoldenappleofdiscord / feudalreesespieces (AO3) Second Place (tie): "Hack" by @timetravellingpaperbag and "Sesshomaru Mer-made a Mistake" by @flowingsakura and "Wishful Chaos" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

Best NSFW Fiction

First Place: "Daddy, Please" by @fawn-eyed-girl Second Place: "Satisfied" by @sereia1313 Third Place: "Here With You" by @somekndofnature

Best Oneshot

First Place: "Pray miko, beg..." by Catzchen (AO3) Second Place: "i beg of you" by @thegoldenappleofdiscord / feudalreesespieces (AO3)

Best Character Portrayal Fiction

First Place: "Sacrifices" (Inuyasha) by @ elkonigin Second Place: "Dear Sesshoumaru" (Sesshomaru) by @ladydanitar

Best InuKag Romance Fiction

First Place (tie): "Inevitable" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3) and "My Brother's Bestfriend" by @keichanz

Best MirSan Romance Fiction

First Place: "Sense and Sensibility, An Inuyasha Retelling" by @ Ruddcatha

Best Romance Fiction

First Place: "Our Special Love" by @jeremymarsh Second Place: "Red" by @sagemcmae

Best Fluff Fiction

First Place: "Boyfriend's Hoodie" by @classysassy9791 Second Place: "Love Language" by @ shikonstar

Best Serial Fiction

First Place: "Hanyou Holidays" by @dawnrider Second Place: "Beneath Goshinboku" by Ldesu (AO3)

Best Ficlet

First Place: "Boyfriend's Hoodie" by @ classysassy9791

Best Friendship Portrayal

First Place: "Prayer Hands wear Cursed Gloves" (Miroku & Kagome) by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3)

Best Completed Fiction

First Place: "Nuts About You" by @shikonstar

Best Action/Adventure Fanart

First Place: "Now I will be the one to protect you" by @geda-art

Best Alternate Universe/Reality Fanart

First Place: "Untitled (Mechanic Inu & Kagome)" by Hullo Yokai (X)

Best Canon Fanart

First Place: "Untitled" by @redundantz

Best Angst Fanart

First Place: "Protect" by @pachworldx-1 Second Place: "Cycle." by @anisaanisa

Best Dark Fanart

First Place: "Passion" by @akulols

Best Humor/Parody Fanart

First Place: "ZOOMIIIIES" by Angel_KagomeX (X) Second Place: "Nothing like a fake 'stach-off in front of the mirror" by @clearwillow / BrigidTheFae (AO3)

Best Kiss Fanart

First Place: "Love is in the Air" by @cam3llia95 Second Place (tie): "Hungry like a wolf" by @otaku-108 and "Inuyasha & Kagome" by @pachworldx-1 and "Spring Fever" by @stardust414

Best Character Fanart

First Place: "Untitled (Bandaid)" by Lenbarboza (X)

Best Duo/Pairing Fanart

First Place: "A dip to cool off, you and me❤️" by CriCri Art (X) Second Place: "A Rare Moment" by @moonnueart

Best Doujinshi

First Place: "Claws and Roses" by Lenbarboza (X)

Best Redraw Fanart

First Place: "I'm a Diva" by @julytheartist

Best NSFW Fanart

First Place: "Sex at the Well" by @brain-rot-hour

Best InuKag Romance Fanart

First Place: "Stardust Birthday" by @clearwillow Second Place: "Inspired by ETERU" by @geda-art

Best MirSan Romance Fanart

First Place: "Untitled" by @kalcia

Best Romance Fanart

First Place: "Afterglow" by @stardust414 Second Place: "Mistakes Made at Midnight" by @heavenin--hell

Best Group Depiction

First Place: "Honesty with Consequences" by _taisana_ (X) Second Place: "SessKag Festival 2024" by @julytheartist

Best Improved Artist

First Place: "Robe of the Fire-Rat" by _taisana_ (X)

Best Overall Fanart

First Place: "Untitled (Bandaid)" by LenBarboza (X) Second Place (tie): "SessKag Festival 2024" by @julytheartist and "Stardust Birthday" by @ clearwillow

Congratulations to all the winners! Your awards are ready, so please send one of the mods or this blog your preferred email address so we can send them to you!

Please note, the winner ban only applies to the first place winner(s) in each division; second and third place winners will be eligible to be nominated again in the next term.

As this term comes to a close, FeudalConnection will be taking a short hiatus. This time is always spent reviewing the process and seeing what can be revamped for next term.

An immense thank you to everyone who voted on next term's roulette categories!

Roulette Fanfiction Category for Term 1 2025 will be Best Character Development. This is defined as: The craft of giving a character personality, depth, and motivations that propel them through the story. Includes how a character evolves throughout the course of a story. Must include which character within your nomination.

Roulette Fanart Category for Term 1 2025 will be Best Coloring. This is defined as: An illustration filled with hues, shadows, highlights, and intensity that bring the picture to life.

Roulette Romance Category for Term 1 2025 will be Best SessKagu Romance. This will be a category for both Fanart and Fanfiction.

For Fanfiction, it will be defined as: Stories that have developed a believable romance between Sesshomaru and Kagura. "Believable" is subjective, and it is up to those nominating/voting to draw their own line on that quantifier and vote their "Best". This includes canon universe and AU/AR settings.

For Fanart, it will be defined as: Any romantic depiction of Sesshomaru and Kagura.

Remember, all other romantic pairings, besides InuKag & SessKagu, can be nominated into the Best Romance category. All other pairings will be up for voting again next term. We will continue cycling through desired pairings to give spotlight to as many pairings as possible.

We will officially be back in full swing January 1st! We will still be around in case you have questions or concerns, but feel free to take this time to read new fanfiction and find new fanart. We strongly encourage everyone to review/comment/reblog so to spread the love of this fandom around. 

Want to stay immersed in the Inuyasha fandom? Head on over and join our Discord server, which is open to everyone! Or follow @inuyasha-events​ to stay up-to-date on all the current and upcoming fandom events!

As the day gets closer to the start of the first term of 2025, we will be keeping everyone in the loop when it comes to changes and updates. Thank you all again for making this such a wonderful experience! See you soon!

- FeudalConnection

[sir-walton-goggins]

Kiss of Purple, Blue and Green

Summary: After a drunken night together, Arthur sees a love bite on your neck and mistakens it for a bruise.

Warnings: bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff, suggestive themes

Word count: 2,361

Ask and you shall receive. Here's a one shot of the scenario I posted a few days ago ;)

Check this out on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54854827

Last night was still a bit of a blur, pieces of it manifesting disorderly, like trying to fit puzzle pieces into the wrong spots. All you knew for certain was two things: the pounding headache that was making you wince at each sound, and… that you and Arthur Morgan had been up to no good.

You shivered in the cold morning air, pulling the blanket over your trembling shoulders as you sat down in front of the last embers of the campfire, a steaming cup of coffee in your hands to warm you up. You could tell the sweet nectar was doing its job, as you were feeling more awake already. You thanked the Lord for coffee.

But you cursed him out the very next second, because you felt someone sitting next to you and you froze, your entire body stiffening. It wasn’t nice company.

“Hello there, cowpoke!” The mustached man roared, sending a wave of pain directly to your already aching temples.

“Micah… not now” you begged, features scrunched up in pain. Turning away from him, you downed the rest of the coffee in silence.

But you knew Micah. He wasn’t resisting the opportunity to have his fun with you in one of your rare vulnerable moments. He spun you around rudely, and grinned under his blonde stache when you recoiled and slapped his filthy hands away.

“Geez, does the liquor at least make you gentler? I’d have to ask Mr. Morgan about that!” he sneered loudly, prompting you to look around, alarmed.

“What do you want?” you hissed, moving in closer to shush him. Micah’s expression relaxed.

“Me? Oh, nothing, nothing at all!” he got up and paced in front of you, grabbing his belt. “If you want the whole camp knowing what you got up to, that is.”

His stupid, cocky smile made you want to punch it off his face, but you tried to keep your composure. Micah was Dutch’s second in command now, you didn’t think it smart to attack him like that. Inside, anger was boiling in your chest, filling your gaze with venom. The mere thought of him knowing what you did (something that was nebulous even to you, and so very private) made your skin crawl. Was he in Valentine too yesterday? Did he spy on y’all?

The man approached you, lowering his voice condescendingly. This would stay between the two of you, if… you did something for him. You were sitting there, trying to interpret his ominous request, you heart beating steadily faster as you felt cornered by this damned fool.

“What is it?” you sighed, wondering if being blackmailed by Micah was worth it, if it meant your foolish actions remained concealed.

This time, he got so close you could feel his foul breath on your nose. You grimaced and tried to suppress a gag. Man, he was disgusting, both inside and out. He cupped your chin, squeezing it firmly. He had just parted his lips to speak when you heard loud, thundering footsteps get closer and closer to your position. Next thing you knew, Micah was tumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding the campfire.

“DON’TCHA DARE TOUCH ‘EM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

You tilted your head upwards in shock. There he was, the man you spent the night with; Arthur Morgan, a man you knew for years and who you never saw lose his temper was there, fists clenched and a murderous rage obscuring his usually sweet blue eyes. A man you had witnessed murder, steal and intimidate, yet his violence always felt calculated, measured in a way, but not this time.

And it was gone in seconds. He turned to you, his fury fizzled away into a worried expression as he asked you if you were okay. You nodded, dazed, still processing what had happened.

You both glanced at Micah, who was still trying to regain his balance after the fall, wiping away the mud and grass from his pants. His expression was his usual, douchy one, but you saw the genuine panic and the fear in his eyes when he was on the ground: he was scared of Arthur. It was clear as day, from the way he kept a safe distance from the both of you, his wounded ego showing. Arthur put on his intimidating gaze and scowled at him until he disappeared into his tent.

“So, what did the bastar-“ he interrupted himself, noticing something on your neck. There it was again, the rage. You saw his face become completely red with anger as he gently hovered his fingers on your bruise, the contrast between the two baffling. You tried to think of some words to defuse him, but before you had a chance to say anything, he shot up and started yelling at the whole camp.

“Okay, which one of ya bastards did this?! Jus’ lemme find out…” Arthur snarled, quite literally growling the threat like a rabid animal. He frantically looked around for the culprit, only finding tired eyes and people still in their night clothes blinking at him, incredulous and concerned at his unusual display of anger.

“Arthur…” you tried to get his attention, but his mind was miles away from you. He wanted justice for whoever dared to put their filthy hands on your precious skin. He was pacing menacingly, glaring at the other men in the gang.

“Come out, ya goddamn coward!!” he shouted, spelling the word “goddamn” even more harshly and slowly than usual. Boy, was he angry… he was starting to scare you, too. You sat there, frozen, pondering what to do.

Javier, Sean and Bill exchanged confused looks, standing each in front of their tents. Sean was the only one who darted a look at you, and you widened your eyes at him, shaking your head in disbelief. But Arthur interpreted that differently and marched towards the Irishman threateningly.

“I’m watching you, boah” he threatened, but Sean was difficult to intimidate, and kept that dumb smirk on his face. The older man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, but Sean assured him he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Leave the boy alone, Arthur” Javier intervened in his usual pacifying tone. “Besides, wasn’t you out with them last night?”

Arthur kept his grip on Sean, but his expression softened a bit, his scrunched eyebrows trying to remember the events of last night. Little by little, it came back to him: you had been out on a mission, robbing a stagecoach, and then… he vaguely recalled stopping at the saloon in Valentine.

He let go of the kid and you sighed in relief. You approached him, grabbed his arm and walked him to the edge of camp, where you two could have a private conversation.

You thought you were hiding it well, but Arthur still noticed the fright in your eyes. He realized he had gone too far.

“I’m so sorry I scared ya, darlin’…” he apologized, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes firmly on his feet. “That was way outta line… it’s jus’…” he gestured aimlessly, struggling to find the words. 

You took one of his hands in yours, gently kissing his bruised knuckles. You got was he was trying to say. When it came to you, all rationality went out of the window. He was sweet on you for a while now, and he was incredibly protective… this was just the first time you’d seen his feelings in action.

“I know. If someone hurt you, I’d probably do the same” you said gently, and his face relaxed into a smile.

You pointed at your neck, smiling in amusement. “This, however? All you.” you laughed, and then cracked up some more at Arthur’s sheer panic.

“Did… did I hurtcha?!” he gasped. He couldn’t stand the idea, not even for a second. It would destroy him if it was true. He’d never forgive himself.

“No, you fool!” you elbowed him in his ribs and explained that that was no bruise. It was a love bite.

“A… what?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. He never heard of such thing. You tried to explain that when he kissed your neck, he did it so… fervently, that he left a small mark just under your jawbone.

“Oh.” His cheeks lit up in a bright, tomato red and his pupils dilated in realization. You two kissed last night? He was starting to remember now…

The stagecoach robbing went exactly as planned. Of course it did: you and Arthur were a great team, excellent criminal minds that foresee every possible outcome and handle everything expertly. You made off with quite a lot of money and jewelry, so you both decided to celebrate the successful heist with a few drinks in Valentine.

“Just a couple, we still have to go back to camp to deposit the loot” you reminded your partner, putting a coin on the counter and gesturing towards the bartender.

“Of course, no crazy business tonight” the cowboy promised, downing his first shot.

Of course, you were both full of shit. The drinks kept coming, and coming, and coming, until the next thing you remember was you waking up in Arthur’s tent, his arms wrapped around you.

And there was a room… it had a bed, so maybe it was at the saloon?

“Did… did we share a room at the saloon?!” you asked Arthur, alarmed. He was staring straight ahead, hand on his chin, as the scene revealed itself to him.

He saw your exposed neck, head tilted backwards into the pillow as he peppered kisses all over your collarbone and chest, stopping at the edge of your jawline to suck on the tender skin that bruised so quickly, so easily. He heard your moans and his name repeated over and over in delight, as you went deeper and deeper, the friction of skin against skin delicious and exasperating at the same time.

He felt breathless now, his face burning unbearably in what? Arousal? Shame? Maybe both. He didn’t dare to look you in the eye, but seeing him that flustered was enough to prove to you what had happened. You did drunkenly sleep together in that room in Smithfield’s saloon. Some recollections came back to you, making your stomach flutter and your abdomen warm with desire. You saw Arthur in his entirety, remembering his touch on your bare skin, his tongue on your neck and chest, the hair a tangled mess that covered his face. His figure revealed itself in all its vulnerability, the mask of tough outlaw crumbling to reveal a tender, passionate lover that, even in his inebriated state, made sure to put your pleasure first. You silently watched him now, trying to piece together the two sides of him: the side that you always knew, and the new one that opened up to you last night.

Arthur looked back at you, interpreting your surprise as hesitation.

“You regret that, don’tcha?” he asked, an almost imperceptible note of sadness in his tone. “I do too, in a way.”

You were not sure whether to take that as an insult. “What do you mean?”

Arthur walked towards you, taking your hands in his. He lowered his voice into a whisper that covered you in goosebumps. His expression was hard to interpret.

“I regret not making our first time special.” He rubbed his thumb on your hand lovingly, smiling at you. There they were, the eyes you always knew, those breathtaking blues you would lose yourself in every day.

You tucked a hair strand behind his ear and lingered there, caressing his scruffy cheek. Arthur leaned right into your hand, melting under your touch.

“Oh, Arthur” you smiled at him, radiant. “It was special, because it was you.” You grabbed his collar and gently pulled him closer, then put your lips on his for a brief, chaste kiss.

“Nah, I could’ve done it right for ya” he shook his head, as always rejecting the compliment. One of these days you had to make him accept one, you promised yourself.

“Now I’m curious. What would you have done differently?”

Arthur took a moment to think. “Well… for starters, I wouldn’t have been that drunk!”

You chuckled. “Then, I’d book a nice bath for the two of us, with some good wine…” as he talked, he fidgeted with the collar of your shirt, resting his hands on your chest. “Then we’d have some dinner, maybe a walk… and then we’d go back to our room, to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed.”

“That does sound nice…” you remarked, almost disappointed that it wasn’t how it actually went. “Although that’s where it did end. In that nice bed.” You joked, making the man grin.  “I guess you’re right” he laughed, pulling you closer.  

“Besides,” you continued, lowering your tone, “there’s always the next time, y’know…” you purred, putting a lot on emphasis on the word “next” and giving him a playful smile. Arthur’s eyes lit right up, and he licked his lips.

“S’that so? And when is that?” he asked, his voice so deep it boomed inside his chest, so filled with desire that the warmth in you lower belly returned unannounced. Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, taking his time with it. His stubble tickled your skin, so thick and rough compared to his soft lips. You put your hands around his neck, one cupping his nape as he pushed you against the tree, lost in his affection for you.

“Get a room, you two!” you both jolted at the voice, realizing you weren’t as well hidden from the group as you’d thought. You smiled, embarrassed, watching Hosea wink at you as he walked away.

“Well, there goes our little secret, Arthur” you exhaled, laughing nervously.

“A secret? Who do ya think is responsible for pairin’ us up on every damn mission?” the cowboy laughed, pointing his thumb at Hosea’s back.

“C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast, darlin’.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, Arthur took your hand as you both went back to the group, relieved to not have to hide your love anymore.

[justchillandshipit]

It's been on my mind all morning. I don't know if they are on set today, but do you guys ever think about how at any moment, they could be standing in front of each other waiting for the director to yell action on the scene where they share their first kiss? Right now you're scrolling. Right now Oliver might be finding out that a stray hair from a mustache can tickle. Think about it. You. Are. Welcome.

**Edit** Now that we have confirmation from Tim that the stache is not going to last long and we know that Tommy is still in the game for the moment, the first kiss is not likely to happen with the mustache. Oliver will never know its sweet tickle. LOL

[therapy-ghost]

hello! im new to the one piece fandom cus of the live action and i absolutely loved it!

I'd like to request headcannons for strawhat crew (romantic or platonic) with a new female crewmate that is very creative and crafty, but also likes to collect things like a crow for her crafts, like the reader decorates the ship and tries to make clothes or useful things for the crew members ><

have a good day/ night ^^

….I don’t know where or not you want it live action or not… but there are a lot of members in the anime compared to the live action so I’m doing live action!!!!

warning; spoilers, swearing and cuteness(straight fluff)

The straw hats(opla) x fem!crewmate that is like a crow!

Luffy

bro will help her; he will notice her finding shiny things in the streets or just randomly in the sand, and he will do the same and gift them to her

finds it really cute because she will become extremely excited over the tiniest of things

if she ever gifts him something, like a pin, or an extremely shiny rock, he will put it somewhere on his clothes

If she makes something for the ship; like some kinda decor for merry, he is putting it on(no questions ask)

Zoro

bros confused as hell; will ask her a shit tone of questions and be like “the hell are you doing?”

secret is; he finds it interesting that she does this… reminds him of Nami and her berry

if he finds something shiny; he will put it in a place where she can find it and leave it for her.

Nami

sis wants it all; Nami isn’t a fan that she just collects the shiny and very expensive stuff and keeps it to herself… so let’s just say she has stollen a few thousand berry from her

its not like she’ll notice? She’s to busy making a really pretty necklace… for Nami?

Nami eventful finds it the most adored thing ever and will bo staff anyone to death that thinks other wise.

she has suggested making a business tho….

Usopp

he accidentally lonched a pretty rock in his sling shot after thinking it was more amo and then go really said

he always tries to make her happy with finding other shiny things and tells her stories(lies) about them.

helps her clean things off and make little crafts with them

Sanji

head over heels as soon as she gifts him with anything, no matter how dirty it is.

bro will do the same for her and give her really pretty things he has found in hopes to make her happy and hug him

he is extremely touch starved and wants it all the time so…. Once he joins, her stach grows by 100 times

I hope you enjoyed it!!!!

[gothcsz]

i'm horny and thinking about how good javier peña would be at eating your pussy 😵‍💫

so real prima, so real.... with a stache and nose like that, he has no choice but to be good at it i fear.

and maybe i'm biased because i really enjoy it, but i feel like he's specifically skilled when it comes to face riding omg.... wait let me cook!

His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush against his mouth and using his strength to keep you there.

Your own mouth opens in a silent scream as his tongue sinfully laps at every crevice of your warm sex, saturated in your arousal from taking him reverse cowgirl style.

Both of you were treading that very fine line of your orgasms. His cock driving into you so deliciously from the different angle melting your brain, and the view of your folds swallowing him inside of your pretty pussy enough to have him starved and craving you.

“Gotta taste you baby. My mouth's fuckin' watering over here.”

And that's how you got here, now bending over a little more, your warm breath fanning over his slick erection, from being inside of you, while your head rests gently on his broad thigh, whiny moans pushing past your lips.

He eats you out like you're the sweetest fruit he's ever tasted. The prickly hairs of his mustache a delightful juxtaposition to the wetness of his mouth.

His swollen lips wrap around your clit, suckling it softly as he pulls back with it still in his mouth, letting the fleshy part snap back with an obscene sound. He groans, repeating the action over and over before lightly grazing his teeth against your sensitive pearl.

A jolt runs up your spine and you grind down against his face, his curved nose doing wonders gliding along your slit.

“Mmm that’s right baby keep movin’ like that.” His large hand caresses the skin of your ass, groping and enjoying how pliable you are.

You do as he says, sensually moving your hips at a rhythm that makes you sing his name.

He listens, always attuned to you and what makes you moan so sweetly. His tongue is flat at first, letting your sensitive cunt glide against his wet and slightly textured muscle. 

He’s eating your pussy so good, you just have to lean over and lick from his plush tip all the way down to his balls, sucking one gently into your mouth. This has him tightening his grip on your thighs and hips. You fucking love it.

After leaving his scrotum wet and glistening with your saliva, you bring your lips to wrap around the head of his cock before slowly taking him into your mouth.

He mutters a few curse words and you go lower until he’s brushing against the entrance of your throat.

The tip of his tongue curls upwards, hitting the sensitive spot under the fleshy hood perfectly and it has you muffling a gasp against his hard cock, choking around him.

“Fuck, cariño, don’t know which I like more— this pretty cunt or that fuckin’ mouth.” 

You whimper, going from grinding on him to lightly bouncing your ass, his mouth making out with your cunt with the same fiery passion with which he kisses you.

You swear you can cum just from smoochin’ him.

It isn’t much after that you two finish, you squeeze your thighs tightly against his head and clench around nothing; your orgasm absolutely re-wiring your brain. Javier’s just that good. And he fucking knows it.

You soak his face with your release and he grunts loudly, lapping up every. drop. then sucking on your clit before placing soft and gentle kisses to it. He can feel your sex pulsating against his lips.

His warm and heady cum fills your mouth and you swallow like a good girl, the action clenching your throat around his dick and he smacks your ass lightly in response.

“Tan rica (so tasty), hermosa. Taste like fuckin’ candy.” 

[igglemouse]

Mister Maxwel

For @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants Simply Lilac BC!

Name: Mister Maxwell. Yes, that means if you call him Mr. Maxwell you'll be saying his full name.

Age Group: Young Adult

Pronouns: He/ Him

Orientation: Heterosexual

Hometown: Chestnut Ridge

Occupation: Unemployed just living life but one day he'll be a big action start making millions.

Skills: Is flexing a skill? Otherwise, no skills at all!

Traits: Goofball, Party Animal, Self- Assured.

Aspiration: He wants to experience as many parties as possible. Is this a party?!?

Life State: A complete hunk.

Likes: Acting, Bowling, Fitness, and photography...alright that last one means he likes being in pictures as well as taking them.

Dislikes: Painting, he just doesn't understand it.

Gifts: He'd give flowers of course, he's not very original.

In Depth: Alright alright alright, it's time for me to take over and speak for myself. Actually, just scroll back up and check the pictures. Better yet, check the pecs, the biceps, and most importantly, the stache.

Done? If not, you can scroll back up and look at the pictures again. Do you feel it, the confidence? Of course you do.

I guess I'm supposed to put something about me here? I was born in a boring town, Chestnut Ridge, so I grew up wanting to get out of there and so spent most of my life going between Del Sol and San Myshuno. Usually I hit the gym in the day then find a party at night and I usually leave with a woman on my arm. So I'm not a one woman man but maybe that's what I need? I'm going to be a star one day after all!

Watcher

Are you comfortable with your pixel person:

Flirting with other contestants? YES

WooHooing other contestants? YES

Flirting with/and or woohooing NPCs?  YES

Flirting with the host?  YES

Changes to traits via gameplay prompts? YES

(Humans Only) Becoming an occult?  YES

[ki-kink]

Yo, check it! This dude was like the ultimate boss man on campus, leading the wrestling squad and rocking the prez title of Beta Rho Omega. With a killer 'stache and some serious armpit bush action, he was straight up iconic, fam!

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Hiiiii, I'm a new follow who got absolutely smitten with your work!

I saw your last post anddd I just decided to drop by this ask!

So, umm, I really crave this man named Marco I love so much like fr I'm crazy about this guy lmao 💀 anyways can I possibly get a Marco x F!reader idk just some fluff stuff with this man I really think he's super affectionate and smitten with his partner sooo can I get morning with him or something like that? Like reader waking him up for some coffee and then him taking maybe a shower and shaving while maintaining his mini beard (stache is that what its called? Idk) while reader watching him admiring him and then marco notices her and sooo you know the idea! Could be SFW or NSFW you choose the best thing you see coming up eith the plot please!

Hopefully, I didn't make this hard for you but really I love your fics so muchhhh like literally you really share the same way of thinking of the characters personalities and actions as me so I'm loveeeeee!

Anyway call me strawberry!

thank you!

Stay safe out there!

XOXO

Hey Strawberry! Here is my go at your request. Thanks for the suggestion, I had fun writing it! It kind of ties in to my Marco x Reader fluff I posted earlier today, but if you didn't like that or don't want to read that I'll give another short scenario here. It's short and sweet. I'll do a Marco NSFW hopefully in the next couple of days. Plan is to have it fit in with this fic and my earlier posted marco fluff fic. Hope you enjoy! If we want more Marco or someone else, like, comment, request below! Thanks friends!

Warnings: Suggestive, Fluff, SFW, petnames, spoilers for WANO, I do not own these characters

Scene Set up: Either follows my previous post Falling for Marco the Phoenix or You, a former member of the Whitebeard Pirates, decide to go with Marco to Sphinx Island to help protect Pop's home Island. After living on the island awhile, you and Marco confess your feelings for one another. This fic takes place the next morning as you begin to go about your routines as a couple in the same house.

A Morning with Marco

The next morning, you rolled over in bed to find Marco’s side empty. You lifted your head and looked around the room. You noticed the door to the bathroom was closed and it dawned on you that you could hear the sound of the shower running. You smiled as you realized besides the sound of the water, you could also hear Marco humming in the shower. You laughed as you heard him break out in song. You rolled on your back and listened to him for a few minutes, before finally deciding to make some coffee. You crawled out of bed and found Marco’s purple dress shirt still on the floor. You put it on and buttoned the two middle buttons, knowing full well it showed off some of your cleavage and cut open just above your mid-thigh.

You walked to the kitchen and measured out the coffee grounds and poured water into the pot, then hit the power button. You reached into the cabinet and pulled out two mugs. You noticed you heard the water stop running. You still heard the faint sound of Marco humming and singing. You still couldn’t believe yesterday had been real. Marco had feelings for you, he had kissed you, then, well you had last night with Marco… you smiled as you thought back on the details. You were hoping for a reenactment as soon as possible. You heard the bathroom door open and were immediately broken from your daydream. 

You looked at the coffee pot and noticed there was enough for two cups already brewed and quickly poured them. You returned the pot to the stream of brewing coffee and picked up your two coffee filled mugs. You walked back into the bedroom and smiled as you rounded the far side of the bed, which allowed you to see into the opened bathroom door. Marco was shaving his stubble in the mirror, wrapped only in a towel that covered his waist. His tattooed chest still glistened with water droplets as his wet hair lay messily atop his head. You walked to the bathroom doorway and leaned against it, a giant smile plastered on your face.

“I kind of liked the full stubble look.” You said.

“Oh.” Marco asked as he turned his gaze from his reflection, to over his shoulder to look at you. “Well how about half of it?” Marco asked as he set down his razor and came towards you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and rubbed his half shaved neck against your cheek. You laughed as you held the full coffee mugs away from the two of you in one hand and grabbed his arm with your free hand.

“Marco, I’ll spill the coffee!” You gently yelled.

“Coffee? Is one for me?”

“Of course.” You said with a laugh.

You handed Marco the mug and he brought it closer to his lips, still holding onto your waist with his other hand. You moved your hand to his chest and brought your coffee mug to your face. You hoped the mug covered your blush as you admired the build of the man before you. Marco’s lips parted around the rim of the mug and he smiled at you as he took a sip. As he lowered his mug, he looked down at your body and noticed what you were wearing. 

“Well you win. That shirt looks better on you than me.”

“You think so?” You laughed as you played with the collar of the shirt that hung near your cleavage.

“Mhhmm.” Marco said as he took another sip. “Thanks for the coffee, babe. You make it way better than I do.” He added as he pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. 

You pushed against his chest as he kissed you and laughed.

“That’s because Thatch never taught you guys how to make coffee. Anyways! Finish shaving! It tickles too much!” You cried and Marco laughed in response.

Marco let go of your waist and returned to the sink. He set down his coffee mug and returned to shaving. You stayed leaning against the doorway and watched him as he finished up. Marco returned to humming as he worked. A wide smile rested upon your lips. He stopped in the middle of his razor swipe and looked over his shoulder at you once more.

“What are you smiling about? Is my performance that good?” He asked with a laugh.

“What? Oh yes, it is.”

“Hmmm… well what’s your favorite part?” He urged as his eyes narrowed studying your expression.

“Hmm…” You took another sip of coffee and studied your surroundings trying to pretend to think hard. “The outfit. The towel only. I like the look.”

“Yeah. Is that what has you smiling?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

Marco gripped the counter tighter as you took another sip of your coffee. You looked at the ground between the two of you, then scanned up his body until your eyes met.

“No.” You said as a devious grin formed on your face. “Knowing what’s underneath has me smiling.” You added with a blush as you raised your coffee mug to cover it. 

You raised your eyebrows and backed out of the doorway.

“Is that so..?” Marco asked curiously.

Marco grinned at you then picked up his razor and finished shaving. You moved to sit on the bed to finish your cup of coffee. After a few minutes Marco exited the bathroom. As he entered the bedroom, still in his towel only, you set your coffee mug down on the table beside you. He jumped on the bed and rolled on top of you, where he slammed his soft lips against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands began to roam your body. You stroked Marco’s bottom lip with your tongue. His lips parted allowing you to intertwine your tongue with his. Marco’s hands started undoing the buttons of your shirt as your hands rifled through his hair.

His lips separated from yours. He looked into your (E/C) eyes warmly. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You can make coffee, taste like coffee, and you’re beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know, if I had to guess, it was the singing. I hope I get a show like that every morning.” You replied with a laugh as you pressed your lips back against his.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your front door. Your lips separated and the two of you panted as you looked towards the main room where the front door was. He looked at you and sighed.

“Marco!” A voice called. 

“Coming.” He replied. 

Marco climbed off of you and the bed. He quickly grabbed some boxers and a pair of pants from his closet and tossed them on under his towel. He threw the towel back in the bathroom and headed towards the doorway of the bedroom. As he did, you started to get out of bed, but Marco stopped you.

“I’ll be quick I promise.” Marco whispered sweetly.

Marco, kissed your forehead and walked out of the room, cracking the door behind him. As he headed towards the front door, you laid back against the pillows in the bed and decided to wait for him. A smile grew upon your lips as you hoped  every morning going forward would be like this, except without a neighborly interruption. Marco opened the front door and you heard him gasp.

“Cat Viper? What are you doing here?” He asked.

[the-maddened-hatter]

Some Hazbin Hotel death symbolism theories/headcanons

So yeah this is gonna be darker since the show literally revolves around characters in hell

Tw for drugs, suicide, murder, cannibalism, mentions of racism & and idk what to call it like in-character cultural insensitivity (if anyone knows how to tag that better lmk) , and various forms of abuse under the read more

Also I know these will probably get disproven within like 5 minutes once the show comes out, but I think they'd still be cool for an AU or something!

Vaggie: I'm gonna start out with a potentially controversial theory here: Her death X eye could be more symbolic than literal, with her choosing to "turn a blind eye" to something in life that eventually lead to her committing suicide out of guilt, and her moth features symbolizing her having been focused on a certain goal or priority to a selfish or harmful degree in life like a "moth to a flame". Putting these together, maybe she allowed something to happen either to someone directly or in such a way that they ended up being harmed/killed in the pursuit of a goal or belief and once she realized the scope of her actions she committed suicide. Maybe once she's in hell she's all but forced into a career of a bodyguard for the ruling families of hell as some kind of ironic punishment (though in her particular case it ends up working out well for her since she and Charlie fall in love)

Since her moth features are much less pronounced than Valentino, perhaps it serves as a reflection of how she realized the harm her selfish focus caused before she died.

Speaking of him, Valentino's highly pronounced moth features could suggest that his selfish focuses were much worse and more self-serving than Vaggie's were (unsurprising given his character) and his addictive smoke powers could mean he died in a fire (my theory is he went into a club that he ran during a fire to retrieve a stache of money and drugs he had hidden inside and perished due to smoke inhalation (meaning he 1 has no visible death x, 2 has a death x on his chest that we haven't seen yet, or 3 his death x shows up sometimes in the red smoke he breathes).

I wrote a fanfiction about a headcanon for Sir Pentious's backstory But the main takeaways from it are I think that he worked with poisons, became paralyzed prior to his death by them, his drug addicted son killed him in a fit of withdrawls with a shattered vial of snake venom, his death X is on his chest where he was stabbed and is hidden by a large fake eye that he wears over it. The other eyes across his body are because he became paranoid after becoming paralyzed. He knows his son went to hell along with him so he's continually searching for him, but doesn't realize that his daughter did as well several years later.

With Niffty, I theorize that her mother died when she was relatively young and she was expected by her male relatives to take up the duties of a housewife and surrender any degree of ambition she may have held about school or a career (even those that fell within the limitations of the time period). Her one hope was that if she was able to get married she'd at least be able to have some degree of freedom from her abusive controlling relatives. Given as many housewives commonly used stimulants that would be considered dangerous and illegal today to increase their productivity and lessen their desires to eat, it's hardly a stretch to think that Niffty would have tried (or been pressured into trying) them as well. It's my belief that she died due to a heart condition that was made much worse by taking the stimulants and her death X is over her heart (and this is why she has speed related abilities). Her large cyclopic eye could be symbolic of her feeling like she constantly needed to be vigilant while still being aware that there were things she wasn't getting to see in life Perhaps her small size is due to her being younger when she died (roughly 18 to 20) and that her death name is taken from the brand of the stimulants.

With Cherri Bomb her cyclopic eye that is functional despite the X may be because she, like Vaggie, chose to allow people to be harmed when she had the power to stop it, but her connection to it was less direct than Vaggie's was (perhaps she created weaponry for an extremist organization, but she didn't realize civilians would be harmed). Within this theory, she may have died sabotaging the organization, perhaps blowing up a bomb within their headquarters o unsuccessfully attempting to dismantle one on the civilian site (with her cause of death being the shrapnel impaling her). She is not ashamed of her death X, and chooses to wear clothing that implies its location.

I headcanon Vox as having been a corrupt journalist in life, overlooked due to a severe stutter in childhood and left with something to prove, he was willing to write false (but convincing) news reports for people about their competitors (ranging from small-scale businesses to political candidates) and come up with convincing doctored photographs. He wanted to quit the lifestyle and settle down with a lady he had convinced to be his fiance (she didn't really love him, but she had a daughter to care for and he genuinely cared for the both of them), so he accepted "one last job" that he believed would leave him with enough to live comfortably in anonymity. The job ended up being a set-up by someone he had previously wronged or their friends/family and was drugged, beaten, and left for dead in an alley. In his final moments he weakly tried to call attention to himself but was unable to get anyone to notice him due to a display window full of new televisions drawing a crowd and drowning out his pleas for their notice.

He has no visible death X due to dying of internal bleeding, but he still bears marks of his death with his eyes always appearing mismatched from three red lines that frequently appear in the lower left corner serve as his marker no matter how often he changes his features. Deeply saddened he was unable to be a father to his fiancee's daughter back in life, he views Velvet as an adoptive daughter. He waited hopefully for many years to see either of them again and his both relived and distraught that they seem to avoided hell.

With Alastor I'm like 99.99% certain this is already fully incorrect, but fuck it this is a headcanon post (also this one is long bc unlike Sir P I didn't get around to writing out the fic before now: Conceived through wealthy white man's abuse of a cook he employed who was of mixed race, meaning her abuser was fully unpunished for his crimes. Though unmarried and in poor health, she kept Alastor, viewing him as proof and hoping he would one day deliver vengeance upon the people who wronged her. He grew up in the care of his ailing mother who, sadly viewed him more as her poised dagger than as her son, and his grandmother who loved him dearly, but lived primarily in her own memories and passed away by the time he was 10 years old. Before she died would tell him lengthy stories about the family he'd never gotten a chance to meet and he would listen, enraptured by the rich tapestries of lineage she described, with his favorite stories being the ones about the Native American man who had been in love with her father's mother, and, she suspected, was well more than just a friend of the family. She didn't know much about the man, but that only served to fuel Alastor's imagination.

Though he hated the man who had given it to him, his lighter skin brought him advantages that were not typical to those in his situation, the most prominent being that he was able gain employment at a rather prominent local radio station in the next town over, and, given time, talent, poor studio lighting, and a false last name, work his way onto the airwaves. He put up with a lot during those long years, forcing himself to stay silent and keep a smiling face through his bosses & colleagues flippant racism, promising himself that it would be worth it one day and that hey'd be "singing a different tune" once he'd worked his way up to the top. He was right, but not in any of the ways he ever expected to be.

Short version, he was found out and fired (despite a degree of public outcry, as his program was quite popular) and he found himself unemployed and, one night, drinking alone. His mother had passed away of a violent seizure a month ago to the day and he was drowning his shames of failure in both his career and of her (she'd had her high expectations of him clear from the moment he was born).

Another man came into the bar, small, tan, scruffy, limping, with some tattoos visible. He hobbled over to the bar stool next to Alastor and with evident glee recognized his voice from the radio and with a bit more effusive praise dolled out between the pours of liquor they became the fastest of friends. When the bar shut its doors, well why didn't they continue their lively chat in Alastor's kitchen? Neither of them had anyone waiting for them at home or much business to attend to in the morning. So that was precisely what they did.

Though he tried his best, Alastor could not seem to pronounce the young man's name. It sounded to him almost like the gecker of a fox (though he blamed this on the copias amounts of bourbon swimming in his brain), and after his third slurred attempt the young man waived his apologies away and said to call him Shilo.

Shilo proved to be a very good listener that evening and, as it happened, in the coming weeks. Most would have balked at the rantings and declarations of vengeance of a total stanger, but not him. He followed each word earnestly, soaking everything in until he was finally ready to make his move.

It was truly such a shame Alastor knew so little about his lineage and about his great grandfather's culture, perhaps he wouldn't have so readily accepted Shilo's claims that he could be granted power, vengeance, and justice through a "dark magic ritual". Maybe if his mother had seen him as someone to love instead of something made to avenge her he would have been harder to talk him into performing 7 so-called "rituals" of murder and cannibalism. Who's to say? End the end the decisions were his own.

He chose people adjacent to his mother's abuser (Shilo was clear on this point, that he mustn't yet strike his target directly, that the ritual was about "absorbing the lights in his life to let you see beyond and leave him blind in the dark". Alastor took down

His uncle (his father's brother) first (a horrid man who, in Alastor's defence, reached for his pistol solely in response to his approaching him)

The house's head butler who had turned out Alastor's mother for "causing trouble",

His own half-brother (he took more pleasure in this than he cares to admit even now, knowing so little and so much separated their respective fates)

His half-brother's fiancee, as she became a convenient next victim

His father's bank broker

His father's chauffeur (for suspecting and confronting him).

And finally, the cook who replaced his mother. That's where things went wrong.

Shilo instructed Alastor to take the body of the victim into the woods once night had fallen, and he complied as he had each time before, but this time as he ate he became overwrought with the guilt of what he'd done, to murder someone fully innocent, whose position was nearly identical to his own mother's all of those years ago.

Shilo was furious when Alastor began to plead to back out of the ritual, insisting that he could well have his vengeance for it all, that once he slit his throat with the so-called ceremonial blade of bone he would awake a spirit of vengence, brimming with all of the power of his ancestors. He tried to press said blade into Alastor's bloody and shaking hands, but he swatted it away as waves of bile doubled him over and he purged most of his night's kill from his stomach.

Alastor watched Shilo's easygoing facade melting away along with his human form, morphing into a snarling canine with a mouth of sharp fangs that dribbled bloody foam. Interwoven between the creature's rage filled huffs and undercurrent of a fox's chitter slipped the words "Oh, Al. You really shouldn't have done that."

He ran for hours through the forest. Shilo, or whatever called itself that anyhow, kept pace at his heels, sometimes overtaking him and ripping away a fresh chunk of flesh or snapping a bone with its massive jaws before falling back to keep the chase going.

Horrifically bloodied and mutilated but somehow still moving he eventually managed to attract the attention of some hunters, who seemingly managed to scare off his pursuer with a few warning shots. Needless to say, Alastor collapsed the moment the beast was no longer on his heels.

One could argue that they meant well, doing what they did. He was very plainly in agony, with his neck and limbs lolling grotesquely, and they really could do virtually nothing to care for him. He wouldn't even let them touch him to try and staunch the bleeding (though for pain or delirium they couldn't tell), doing his best to strike out with a broken appendage or, when one of them tried to at least stabilize his neck with a folded coat, bit down on his would-be-healer's arm and kept locked on until he lost the strength to continue.

He regained a bit of sense for those last few seconds. He saw that horrible beast's wicked eyes and gleaming teeth lurking in the edges of the firelight and he saw one of the hunters kneeling beside him and promising it would be quick and everything would be over in just a moment as he readied his handgun.

[serenelystrange]

Rating: G, Words: 2,459

Summary:

Barely ten seconds into kissing Buck, Eddie knows everything he’s ever believed about kissing has been wrong.

At AO3, or here! As always feedback is loved and appreciated!

“Ok,” Buck says as Eddie opens the front, “hear me out.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he steps back to let Buck in, wondering why he didn’t just use his key, and closes the door behind him as he waits.

“The last few weeks have sucked,” Buck continues, strolling past Eddie and plopping himself down on one side of the couch.

“You did almost kill a guy,” Eddie agrees mildly. “But you also saved his life, so I think it evens out.”

“Not what I meant,” Buck says, watching Eddie carefully as he sits down on the opposite end of the couch, leaning up against the arm and pulling his knees up against himself.

Eddie glances toward the wall the birthday banner for Chris had been for a moment before looking back to Buck and giving a resigned sigh.

“I know,” he says. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Perfect,” Buck says, grinning. “Then you’ll have no problem with my plans for the next few days!”

“My plan is to watch shitty 80’s action movies and drink all the beer in my fridge,” Eddie huffs. “You can do whatever you want.”

Buck frowns at him for just a moment, a flash of worry cracking through the cheerful mask of his smile, and Eddie would feel bad about it if he could feel anything at all.

“Absolutely not,” Buck says after a moment, giving him a serious look. “I’m glad you lost that porn-stache, but,” he says. “You’re going to go shower off this,” he pauses to gesture to Eddie’s general hygienic funk, “and then you’re gonna come with me and shoot some arrows into strawmen.”

“What now?” Eddie asks, surprised enough to ask instead of immediately declining. “That’s a thing?”

“It is,” Buck says, grinning and leaning forward conspiratorially. “And I hear if you do a really good job, they even let you set some of them on fire.”

“The arrows or the strawmen?” Eddie asks, intrigued despite himself.

“I guess both if you’re a good shot,” Buck says, shrugging. “Wanna find out?”

Eddie glares for a moment, wanting nothing more than to lie back and drink until he falls into darkness, but crumbles under Buck’s hopeful expression.

“Fine,” he says, pointing at Buck, “but you owe me a drink after.”

“Whatever you want,” Buck agrees, grinning.

Eddie just gets up and heads off for the shower, knowing what he wants is something he can’t have, and no amount of Buck’s cheerful distractions will change that. But he loves him enough to pretend for a day, and that’s going to have to be enough.

The archery is fun, Eddie admits to himself once he’s gotten to shoot off a few arrows into the painted targets on what look like naked scarecrows. Beside him, Buck whoops with delight as his arrow embeds itself right into the painted pink heart on the strawman’s chest.

“Good job, Cupid,” Eddie laughs, as his own arrow hits the bullseye again.

“We can’t all have perfect aim,” Buck huffs teasingly as he takes in all the arrows Eddie has landed. He whistles lowly, impressed. “They’re definitely going to let you do the fire ones,” he says. “Awesome!”

Eddie does, in fact, get to shoot a few flaming arrows, and he watches with interest as one lands right in the middle of the blank straw face. For just a moment, he sees his mother’s condescending gaze in its place, eyes wide with horror as it’s engulfed in flames.

He doesn’t tell Buck what he saw, or the visceral wave of satisfaction that it gave him, but judging by the little smirk on Buck’s face as they go to leave, he thinks maybe he already knows.

“You owe me a drink,” Eddie reminds him as they head toward Buck’s jeep.

Buck hums non-committally as they reach the car and climb in. “Maybe we could get something to eat with that drink?” he asks. “I’m pretty hungry.”

“I suppose,” Eddie says with an exaggerated sigh. “But after that, you have to let me go home and wallow in peace. Promise?”

Buck gives him a sad look, but nods.

“Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” Eddie asks casually as Buck drives them to a nearby steakhouse. “He has the same days off, right?”

“He does,” Buck hedges, sparing Eddie a quick glance before focusing back on the road and shrugging. “But we don’t need to spend every free minute together. This was more important, anyway.”

Eddie has no idea what to even say to that, so he says nothing, staring out his window with feigned interest until Buck gets the hint and drops the topic.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and Eddie nods.

It feels like he’s been almost there his entire life.

“Can I come in for a while?” Buck asks as they reach Eddie’s house after dinner. Despite his insistence at drinks, Eddie only managed a beer and a half before his stomach turned sour and he couldn’t take another sip.

Eddie hesitates just long enough that he can’t miss the hurt look on Buck’s face even as he quickly smooths it out.

“I’ll probably pass out before the movie even starts,” Eddie warns.

“That’s ok,” Buck says, grinning again. “We’ll watch something you’ve already seen.”

Eddie nods easily enough, before excusing himself to the bathroom, leaving Buck to choose a movie in his absence.

It’s nearly 4AM when Eddie wakes up on the couch, neck sore from the awkward angle it was hanging against the back, and he groans as he stretches out. Buck, passed out and curled up on the other end, twitches in response but doesn’t wake up. Eddie watches him for a moment, tucked up as small as he can make his giant frame even in his sleep, and has to fight the urge to brush back his messy curls from where they’re drooping over one eyebrow. Instead, he stands up slowly before leaning down and gently pulling Buck’s legs to stretch out along the couch. He covers him with the thick crotched blanket Abuela made him and Chris as a housewarming gift, smoothing the soft fabric under his fingers as he lays it down.

Buck doesn’t stir, and Eddie selfishly takes another long moment to just look at him. The words that run through his brain every time he meets Buck’s eyes can’t hurt them if he never says them out loud.

This will have to be enough.

Buck is gone when Eddie wakes up the next afternoon, feeling like he’d only just closed his eyes. He’s disappointed despite his grumblings of wanting to be left alone, but grateful to be able to recharge after being a person for the whole last day.

His phone pings just as he’s taking the first sip of his coffee, and he doesn’t need to look to know it’s Buck, but finds himself smiling down at the text anyway.

Enjoy your robot time. I’ll be back around 5. We’re building a fire-pit.

Eddie stares at the text, sure that he should be annoyed at Buck’s lack of asking him if he even wants a firepit, never mind volunteering him for manual labor. But underneath the oppressive blanket of exhaustion, all he feels is a sliver of warmth.

“Why now?” Eddie ask as they’re putting the finishing touches on the in-ground pit, sweaty and streaked with all manner of dirt.

Buck looks up at him from where he’s crouched by the pit and shrugs, giving him a dust smeared crooked smile.

“Weather is cooling down,” he says. “As much as it ever does anyway. It’ll be nice on the cold nights.”

Eddie doesn’t ask why Buck assumes he’ll be here on the cold nights instead of at his own loft, or at his shiny new boyfriend’s house. He doesn’t want to put the idea into Buck’s head that he belongs anywhere other than exactly where he is.

It’s late when Buck finally stops being able to smother his yawns, and Eddie realizes they both have to be awake for work in less than 8 hours. Shaking his head, he clicks off the tv and pokes Buck’s thigh with one foot.

“We need sleep before work,” he says, softly. “You should go home and sleep in a real bed, that couch is not made for anyone over six feet tall.”

“I’m comfy,” Buck blatantly lies, daring Eddie to call him on it with his eyes.

Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs before moving to stand in front of Buck and placing both hands on his shoulders.

“I’ll be ok,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt myself or anything.”

“I know that,” Buck says, eyes wide but gaze soft. “I’m not here on suicide watch, Eds, Jesus.”

Eddie refrains from asking why he is there then, but the question must show on his face anyway because Buck suddenly reaches up and wraps his hands around Eddie’s wrists, holding them in place against his own shoulders.

“I’m here because you’re my best friend, and you’re really fucking sad, ok?”

At Eddie’s struck silence, he takes a breath and continues.

“I know I can’t fix it,” he says, biting his bottom lip worriedly. “As much as I want to. And since crossing state lines with a minor is kind of a federal crime, all I can do is be here as much as possible for you, even if you end up hating me for it.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, swaying slightly with months of exhaustion, only held up by the steady pressure of Buck’s shoulders under his hands. “I’m never going to hate you. Even when you drive me crazy, I could never hate you. Got it?”

“I know,” Buck says, in that tone of his that Eddie knows means he’s anything but sure.

“I mean it,” Eddie says, gripping Buck’s shirt under all ten fingers. “You’re kind of everything to me, man.”

Buck gasps at that, a quiet thing, and he goes still under Eddie’s hands even as his eyes scan Eddie’s face for any explanation other than the confession his words sound like.

“Eds?” he asks, sounding so young that it breaks Eddie’s heart all over again.

Taking a shuddering breath, Eddie pulls free of Buck’s hold and takes a step back, folding his arms around himself protectively.

“Turns out,” Eddie says to the wall behind Buck, “it’s not just one damn thing after another, you know? It’s everything, all at the same time.”

“I don’t..” Buck trails off, hands twitching on his lap from the effort of keeping them still.

“Chris ran away,” Eddie says, “and I could almost handle it, because I knew he was going to come back eventually.”

“He will,” Buck says, and he sounds so sure that Eddie can’t help but give him a quick smile.

“I hope so,” he says, before finally looking back at Buck. “But it took him leaving to make me realize I’m a fucking idiot who has been in love with his best friend for years. And now I’m going to ruin the one good thing I have left because I couldn’t just keep my mouth shut.”

Buck is on his feet so fast that Eddie actually startles, taking another step back as Buck moves forward.

“Eddie,” he says, voice helpless and achingly soft.

“You should be mad at me,” Eddie says as Buck edges closer, until he can reach out run his hand down Eddie’s arm before taking his hand and holding it in his own.

“Why would I be mad?” Buck asks, smile widening when Eddie doesn’t pull away. “Even if I wasn’t totally gone for you, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“Gone for me?” Eddie asks, torn between confusion and hope.

“Since the day you handed Chris to me even after I lost him,” Buck says, voice tight with emotion even after all this time.

“You saved him,” Eddie says, the familiar argument rolling easily from his tongue.

“Yeah, well,” Buck says, shrugging, “you literally restarted my heart. How could I not love you with all of it?”

“Sap,” Eddie teases, even as he’s taking the final few steps closer. “I really wish we’d figured this all out before you went and got yourself a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Buck says, frowning thoughtfully. “We broke up. I didn’t mention that?”

“You definitely did not,” Eddie sighs. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re not,” Buck says, laughing. “But it’s fine. Neither am I. Tommy deserves someone who isn’t hung up on their straight best friend.”

Eddie laughs at that, bordering on hysterical, and all but falls into Buck’s embrace as he gets pulled in.

“This doesn’t feel very straight,” he says against Buck’s neck, breathing him in as Buck wraps him up tighter in the hug.

“What’s it feel like?” Buck asks quietly, nuzzling his cheek down against Eddie’s hair.

Eddie considers it for a few moments, unsure how to put words to something that feels as vast as the universe and just as scary.

“It feels like,” he says finally, pulling his head up to look into Buck’s shining eyes. “It feels like breathing,” he settles on. “Like I didn’t know how much trying to stop would hurt.”

“And I’m the sap?” Buck teases, voice raspy with choked back tears. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please,” Eddie says, closing his eyes a moment before Buck’s lips find his.

Eddie has kissed plenty of people in his life, despite what his teasing team might think, and despite the fact that most of those kisses hadn’t led to anything more. He’s accepted the fact that maybe kissing is just overrated, something girls lie to each other about to keep up the façade for another generation.

Barely ten seconds into kissing Buck, Eddie knows everything he’s ever believed about kissing has been wrong. It’s warm and slick, the scratchy hint of Buck’s stubble rubbing his skin with an unfamiliar thrill, the gasp he hears come from his own mouth as Buck bites down gently on his bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. It’s a full body feeling that he’s never experienced before, and he shivers with the sensation. Eddie thinks nonsensically that this must be what a Christmas tree feels like when its lights get plugged in; bright and joyous, evergreen.

“Forget what I said before,” Eddie gasps when they break apart. “Don’t you dare go home now.”

Buck laughs, face flushed and chest heaving, and Eddie is half convinced he never made it out of his last shift, because there’s no way that he gets to have this. He says as much, and Buck just shakes his head and kisses him again, and then again for good measure.

“Don’t worry,” he says, easy as can be. “I’m already home.”

The End

[amyispxnk]

Me, you, and a motorbike.

Summary - Javi takes you for a ride on his motorbike

A/N: I am in desperate need of dividers. Does anyone know how I should go about getting those? Pls help a gal out 🙏 ALSO please tell me if the Spanish is wrongly translated. Lo siento if any mistakes 😞

Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count- 1,041

Warnings: pet names, fluff, riding a motorbike, Javier Peña in a leather jacket on said motorbike should have it's own warning tbh, language, established relationship

DO NOT COPY THIS WORK IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

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"Hermosa.. what the fuck is this?" Javi laughed as he approached you in the driveway.

You were proudly leaning up against a motorbike, letting your fingertips trace random patterns over the cool metal.

"A motorbike, obviously." You said, exaggerating the obviously with a cheeky eye-roll.

"Well yeah, but.. why?" His eyebrow raised when he realised just how nice the bike was, you had clearly spent a good amount of money on it. "You don't know how to ride one of these, do you?"

"No... but you do." You announced proudly, producing a faded photograph from your back-pocket and waving in front of him. It must've been almost 2 decades old, slightly torn at the edges and having that classic 80s look to it. In the picture, Javi was sat on a motorbike and practically beaming at the camera - already showing off the very different personality he had before Colombia with just that smile - wearing a black leather jacket, black t-shirt, and those damn skinny jeans he apparently insisted on wearing his entire life. His face looked young, the signature 'stache adorning his upper lip, messy brown hair going in all directions as he held his helmet to the side - clearly having just been on a ride.

He took the picture from you and shook his head, laughing to himself quietly as he recalled the days when he used to bike.

"Where the fuck did you find this?" Javi asked as he handed it back to you and crossed his arms, studying the motorbike.

"Chucho showed it to me a few weeks ago, and I just knew I had to see you in action." You told him, making him groan; Chucho had a habit of showing anyone he could all of Javi's childhood photos, especially the embarrassing ones. He furrowed his brows as he tried to think of any potentially incriminating ones you could've seen when you pushed a helmet into his hands.

"Let's go!" You chirped, about to put your own helmet on when he stopped you, placing his hands atop yours.

"And how do you know I can still remember how to actually work this thing, Hermosa? You haven't really thought this through have you?" He teased, knowing full-well he remembered. He'd actually rode a couple of times after leaving Texas for the first time, having the occasional chance to and gladly taking the opportunity.

"Well, I kind of wanted to surprise you and just hope for the best?" You shrugged as you tilted your head to the side, frowning when you realised he might actually not remember.

"Okay, get your helmet on." He ordered after a moment, making you let out a little excited noise of delight as you quickly put the helmet on.

"Oh- wait! Wait, one minute!" You said as you rushed back inside the house, grabbing something then hurrying back to him.

You handed him his leather jacket and winked before lowering your helmet again. "To complete the look." You explained as you sat behind him on the bike whilst he shrugged the jacket on.

He started up the bike and turned to face you sideways.

"You ready?" He said in a louder voice, the bike already making a lot of noise.

"Yeah! Let's fucking do this!" You replied, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the bike and took off, speeding down the empty roads.

It was exhilarating. You'd only been on a motorbike once before, and you were too young to remember just how good it felt. The cool night air whipped past you, blowing against your skin. The lights from stores all blurred together as you hurtled past, the colours mixing to create a mirage of blues, greens, reds and purples in your peripherals as you tightened your grip on his waist.

"This is amazing, oh my god!" You shouted, letting out a yell as he sped up even more.

"Yeah, it is! Fuck, I forgot how great this is!" He called back, turning onto a mostly empty street and intentionally swerving the vehicle a little, making you laugh loudly.

"Okay, okay! Let's go back- Javi!" You told him, in a fit of giggles as he slowed down slightly.

"What? Can't handle the speed, baby?" He said in a fake macho voice.

"I can handle the speed, you dick. Just- too much excitement for one night, I'm getting old y'know." You responded as you now both rode calmly back to the ranch, head resting sideways on his back.

"You're not that old." He countered.

"Yeah, not as old as you at least."

"Oh shut up." He said, nudging you a little as you laughed even more.

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You pulled into the driveway once more and stepped off the bike, taking your helmet off and letting out a breathy laugh, coming down from the adrenaline high by now.

"¡Dios mío, tienes la bicicleta! ¿Se divirtieron ustedes dos? (Oh my, you got the bike! Did you two have fun?)" Chucho's voice sounded from the doorway as you both walked up to the porch.

"¡Fue increíble! Gracias por revelarme esa foto a mí, Chucho, y a los demás. (It was amazing! Thank you for revealing that photo to me, Chucho, and the others.)" You smirked as you stepped past him and into the house.

"¿Qué? ¿Que otros? Oh Dios, no me digas que le mostraste el- (What? What others? Oh God, don't tell me you showed her the-)" Javier groaned as his father only responded with a guilty laugh and a shrug.

Of course he had to show you that photo - the one of him, 16 years old with the most atrocious haircut ever and the face of a baby (not in a cute way), wearing the Santa costume his mom had forced him to wear to entertain his little cousins that Christmas. Chucho had taken so many photos the camera was almost out of space and still used them to tease him to this day.

"Lo siento, hijo, sólo tenía que mostrárselo. (Sorry, son, I just had to show her)" Chucho told Javi as he walked up the stairs, your giggles echoing in his ears as you realised what they were talking about.

"You guys are both so annoying." He murmured, a grin ghosting his lips as he started to get changed to go to sleep.

"Yeah, but you love it." You teased as he got in the bed beside you, pulling you close to him.

"Yeah, you're right." He sighed dramatically before closing his eyes.

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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open! 💞