pinkponydiaz

[pinkponydiaz]

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knowing he’s on vacation and hasn’t had the mustache in 8 months makes it even funnier

It's SO embarrassing .. like why not at least post something he had from his vacation this week ? But nooo he just haddd to repost the sluttiest fucking picture he could find from his shoots with the mustache months n months ago . FOR OLIVER because he said HE'S HANDSOME with the 'STACHE and has A SLUTTY WAIST AND A LIL THING GOIN ON . GOOD LORD .

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mating rituals worthy of amazonian rain forest birds

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man leave me out of it

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haven’t watched a show that made me laugh like this in so long plz go watch adults on fx/hulu

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Oh! 😃

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“I don’t have to fuck Eddie just bc I have feelings for him, and just because I slept with YOU doesn’t mean I have feelings for you.”

And that’s just like. Canon. Buck said that canonically to his ex-boyfriend. & we’re just supposed to be normal about that?????

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evan buckley + ADHD

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welcome back Moira Rose

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911 hiatus rewatch ↝ 2.08 Buck, Actually ↝↝ When we got married… we thought, what the hell, we have so little life left, we might as well live. That was Mitchell, always daring the clock. And me, I always followed along. All those foolish things we did. We only ever wanted to… to go together. That's love. I'm sorry. I really am. I guess I can only hope to find something that good. You don't find it, son. You make it.

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re: the post you reblogged. I sooo need a fic where eddie learns about "the competition" and either was fully aware it was happening or is strangely happy to learn it was and he won. So he claims his prize 🤭 Bonus points if they run into tommy

hi, anon! i lost my mind a bit and wrote an entire ficlet for this, lmao.

Competition [on AO3] 1.6K words | buddie established relationship | public displays of affection | past buck/tommy | possessive eddie diaz | fluff and humor

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It's not that Eddie's not openly affectionate. Of the two of them, he's always been the most physically demonstrative—even before they got together, he was the one to set a hand on Buck's shoulder, to knock their knees together on the couch, to sling an arm around him. Buck always found it harder to reach out first, but he drank up that easy affection like water in a desert. And once they got together it was even better—these days, Eddie holds his hand in the grocery store, settles a palm at the base of his spine to guide him through doorways, kisses the corner of his mouth when Buck hands him a plate of barbecue at a family dinner, even though it makes Chris loudly roll his eyes every single time.

Eddie's an affectionate guy, is the thing. But he's not usually like this, at least not where other people can see them.

It takes Buck an embarrassingly long time to catch on. They're both drinking—celebrating the high of a tricky rescue at the 118's favorite bar. Hen and Chim are doing a margarita-soaked rendition of I Will Survive on the karaoke stage, and Buck doesn't know where everyone else has gotten to, but then Eddie reappears at his side with another pair of beers. He presses one into Buck's hand and then slouches against him, wrapping an arm around his hips and tucking his hand into Buck's back pocket to give his ass an affectionate little squeeze. Buck startles a little, glancing down at him, but Eddie is watching the stage, sipping his beer, apparently unconcerned. His hand stays where it is. And it's not like Buck minds, so he bumps his hip against Eddie's and watches Eddie smile into his beer as the two A-shift paramedics do a decent job at bringing the house down with Gloria Gaynor.

Buck can't clap with a beer in his hand, but he whistles as loud as he can at the grand finale, laughs while the pair of them bow dramatically and Chim hands off the mic to a petite redhead as disco gives way to some 90s pop hit that Buck doesn't recognize. Eddie laughs, then glances at the bar and reaches up to cup Buck's cheek and pull him down into a kiss, lingering about it much longer than he usually would in public.

"You want to play a round of darts?" he asks when he pulls back. Buck blinks at him, lips tingling. "Looks like the board is free."

"Uh, yeah," Buck says, a beat too late. "Sure. Sounds good."

"Cool," Eddie says, and kisses him again. He does not remove his hand from Buck's pocket until they're already at the dart board, which is closer to the bar than the stage—fortunately, there are still a couple of tables free. He sets down his beer and takes the set of darts Eddie hands him, accompanied by another lingering kiss.

Buck squints at him, vaguely suspicious. Eddie seems normal, though, and well—they've both had a couple of drinks, after an adrenaline-soaked shift that could have gone badly but didn't. It's probably nothing. Or not nothing, it's probably the kind of thing that'll have Eddie fucking him into the mattress when they get home, or climbing on top of Buck to ride him until he's sobbing, presuming they make it as far as the bed. Something to look forward to, but nothing to worry about. Just Eddie, kicked back against the table, laughing and beautiful, watching Buck with bright, sparkling eyes.

"Well?" he asks. "You gonna take your shot?"

"You're just trying to throw me off my game," Buck accuses, without much heat. Eddie grins and shrugs and doesn't even try to deny it.

Buck loses, which he usually does, because Eddie's got some kind of freakish knack for darts, probably acquired in the military. It doesn't sting very much, with Eddie right next to him, focused on him, goading him with that low trash-talking voice shot through with heat. They're both done with their beers by the time Eddie lands his final bullseye and pumps his fists like a dork, crowing. Buck rolls his eyes and laughs at him, and Eddie gives him a look, then glances at the bar again, then backs Buck up against the table and pulls him down with a hand at his nape into a slow, filthy kiss, the kind that would usually precede him dropping to his knees, if they weren't currently in the middle of a fairly crowded bar. As it is, Buck is breathless when he pulls back.

"Um," he breathes, and Eddie grins up at him, private and pleased. Buck clears his throat. "You, uh, you wanna get out of here?"

Eddie tilts his head, like he's considering it, then says, "One more drink? Then we can go."

"You're killing me here," Buck groans, and Eddie laughs at him, like the sadist he is. "Better make it worth it."

"Oh, it will be."

"Fine, fine." He scoops up their glasses—the bartenders have enough work tonight, it's the least he can do. "Another one of the same?"

"Oh, uh." Eddie glances at the bar again, quick and suddenly, oddly nervous. "I can get it."

"Nah, that's fine, I got it. You grab the darts," Buck says. "Maybe we can do another round, if you're gonna make me wait."

Eddie laughs, a beat off. His cheeks are red. "Yeah, okay," he says, and tugs Buck back in for another kiss before releasing him.

He doesn't really think much of it, winding through the crowd to deposit the empty glasses at the end of the bar and then leaning his hip against it, waiting as the bartender makes her way down to him. He's half watching her, half watching Eddie gather up the darts and then linger by the table, looking oddly—shifty, almost. Buck narrows his eyes.

"What can I get for ya," the bartender says, barely audible over the din, and Buck jumps and turns back to sheepishly ask for their beers. She nods and pulls out a pair of glasses, and Buck looks back toward their table. Eddie is nowhere to be seen. He frowns, craning his head, and shifts backward until he bumps the person on the other side of him.

"Sorry, sorry," Buck says, and then the guy turns and the words die in his throat, because there's his ex, large as life right in the middle of a bar that it makes sense they both frequent, probably. "Uh. Tommy, hey. It's been a while."

"It has," Tommy says in an unreadable tone. It's not unfriendly, exactly. But it's—something. Wary. "Good to see you, Evan."

"Buck," Eddie says from his other side, sudden and close. His arm slips around Buck's waist as he presses against him, closer than he really needs to. Only then does he look past him to offer Tommy a very bland smile. "Kinard."

"Diaz," Tommy says.

"Um," Buck says, looking back and forth between them. Something is beginning to occur to him. He narrows his eyes at Eddie, who isn't looking at him; instead, he's staring at Tommy with that butter-wouldn't-melt smile on his face. "Wait a second, are you…"

"I better get going," Tommy says abruptly, even though he still has half a beer in front of him.

"Too bad," Eddie says, bland and pleasant. "It was great running into you."

"Yeah," Tommy says, dry. "Well. Looks like congratulations are in order."

"That's maybe jumping the gun. We're not engaged." Eddie smiles again, this time showing his teeth. "Yet."

Buck stares at him. Then looks back at Tommy, who is already digging out his wallet to lay a couple of bills on the bar. He looks at Eddie, then at Buck, then shakes his head and sighs.

"Well, congratulations anyway," he says, and slips away through the crowd.

The bartender sets a pair of beers in front of them. Buck ignores them, staring at Eddie, who is still not meeting his eyes.

"Eddie," he says slowly.

"Listen, you, uh, you wanna play another round of darts?" Eddie asks. "The board is still free, if we hurry."

"Eddie," Buck says again, starting to smile. Eddie is blushing, bright red and obvious.

"What?"

"We're not engaged yet?" Buck repeats, gleeful.

"Well, we're not." He's pouting. It's beautiful.

"You did not just halfway propose to me in the middle of a bar to piss off my ex-boyfriend." Eddie looks even more shifty. Buck pulls him in by the belt loops. "How long has he been sitting here? Is that why you kept kissing me like that?"

"What, I can't kiss my boyfriend?" Eddie asks, clearly going for innocent and missing it by a mile.

"Uh huh. You can kiss me. Maybe you'd like to bend me over the nearest table, really show him—"

"Jesus, Buck," Eddie hisses, but he's laughing now, pink-cheeked. "I just—I don't know, I saw him, and he was looking at you, and it was like—he thought I was the competition? And he dumped you, anyway. Let him see what he's missing."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?"

"Yeah, not likely," Eddie mutters. "Idiot. He didn't deserve you anyway."

"He dumped me," Buck says, leaning in to kiss him, "because he thought I was in love with you. And he was right. So."

"So what," Eddie mutters. "He should have, I don't know, fought for you. I would have."

"He wouldn't have won," Buck points out, just to see Eddie blush harder, his mouth softening into a smile.

"Okay."

"Okay." Buck pulls their beers to him. Then he pauses, and says, "You don't really want to stick around for another drink, do you?"

"No," Eddie says, immediately, slipping his hand back into Buck's back pocket like it belongs there. "No, let's get out of here."

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obviously calling buck a deadbeat dad in the grocery store ("do you know how much chris misses you" ) was eddie using chris as an excuse to not have to say do you know how much AYE miss you. but to the extent any of that was actually about chris... how much of that was just eddie's internalized self-hate and guilt being projected as anger at buck. because buck didn't actually owe it to chris to be a constant in his life. it's giving just started dating a single dad ''you can't take becoming part of his life lightly, he can't lose another parent figure'' vibes, which isn't the situation here (or is it... 🤔). but eddie's the one who DID leave chris, as his actual parent, so he's very aware of the fact that BOTH of chris' parents failed him at different points, which is why he's so sensitive to buck doing it to him again. which is a completely unfair thing to put on buck, as dads friend from work of 1.5 years.

but where it gets delicious, in their classic freak4freak manner, is that buck AGREES with him. and very sincerely apologises for being a deadbeat partner/dad to eddie and chris. again, i cannot emphasize this enough, as dads friend from work of 1.5 years.

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OK hi just discovered mcsteve is in fact the cute serial killer from criminal minds

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Daily Eddiestache day 51/♾️

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wip [day of the week]

tagged by lovely @spaceshipkat <3

this isn't really a wip. just something i started writing for no reason and it probably won't grow into anything else but anyway, here it is:

this isn't something that's a part of their hang-out routine. they touch, of course they do, probably more than even the closest of friends are platonically supposed to, but not like this. never like this. not with this kind of purpose and not when it's just the two of them sprawled across the couch in their sleep clothes with nothing but a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table to judge them. eddie's— eddie's left hand is tucked between buck's knees, and he's not quite pushing them apart, not quite fondling anything, but it still feels monumental, his fingers wrapped around the angle of buck's knee. buck likes his hands; he keeps staring, has been getting distracted by them for a while now, and eddie hasn't been trying to use it to his own advantage, not really, but it still makes him weirdly proud to know that buck's absolutely bound to sputter and blush and grunt (and sometimes even adjust himself in his pants) whenever he sees eddie lick some butter off his thumb or suck melted ice cream away from the groove of his palm. only now eddie's hand is squeezing buck's surprisingly bony knee, and then moves on to pinch the softness of the fat on the inside of buck's massive thigh, and eddie's hard. eddie's hard in his stupid basketball shorts because his hand is making its way up his best friend's thigh and into his loose cut-off sweats like it has a mind of its own. he thinks of thing from the addams family; maybe he's losing his goddamn mind. eddie wishes he could blame it on alcohol or weed, but he can't because they've been cutting down on beer ever since eddie and chris have moved back in. the overpriced craft sodas buck keeps buying instead are alcohol-free, and they don't even manage to provide a sugar high. as far as weed goes, it's not their once-in-a-month 'night of chill' as buck likes to call it, so eddie can't blame it on that, either. eddie is stone-cold sober and so hard in his pants that it's starting to ache, and his best friend keeps flexing his legs like he doesn't know whether he should spread them apart or lock them together, so eddie's horny hand can't make it further up his loose pants and straight into the guts of the most important relationship they've ever built. eddie doesn't even know how it happened. one minute they were watching that stupid nicolas cage movie, and the next eddie's been tugging on the fair, wiry hair on buck's leg. he wants to suck them into his mouth and find out if buck's pubes look and feel and taste the same, and isn't that a thought to have about one's platonic best friend.

tagging: @cranberrymoons @hyruling @holocrone @shitouttabuck @llovely @thatbuddie if you feel like it <3

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you know what, i respect it. get these views, nineteen92.