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I prompt "what's wrong with you?" because it made me giggle even though that's probably not how it's meant! If it sparks ofc ✨

that also made me giggle, so this is... definitely not a serious interpretation of the prompt, lol.

-

"Listen," Buck says. "I can explain."

"Uh huh." Eddie sounds deeply skeptical. Buck can picture the expression that goes with it: the flattened mouth betrayed by the teasing sparkle in his eyes. He can't see that expression, unfortunately, because he is currently wedged headfirst in the basement wall along with a jagged tangle of dislodged pipes. At least one of them has ruptured, and there's a sour stink of stale water. Buck should probably count himself lucky that it's nothing worse than that, but he's not feeling especially lucky right now.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Well, it looks like you got your head stuck in the basement wall."

"Okay," Buck concedes. "It is what it looks like. But it's not my fault."

"How did you even…" Eddie trails off. His footsteps move around Buck, like he's trying to take in the whole humiliating scene.

Buck tilts his forehead against the bare concrete wall with a sigh. That makes the pipes shift slightly, but not enough that he can actually disentangle himself. "I was trying to get at the trap vent. Maddie said they've been having a weird smell coming from the bathroom sink, and I told her I could just take care of it while she was at work so she didn't have to call a plumber, and then…"

"And then the plumbing came to life and tried to kill you," Eddie concludes. He's not doing a very good job of pretending not to be laughing at Buck, here.

"You're very funny," Buck says sourly.

"So I'm told."

"No, listen, whoever did the plumbing down here was a moron who didn't secure everything right, and one of the anchors came out, and—can you just help me out, please? You can make fun of me as much as you want afterward."

He probably could get out by himself if he really had to, but not without breaking something potentially expensive. At least Eddie lives within fairly easy driving distance. His other options would have been waiting for Maddie to get home in six hours, or calling 911, and he'd absolutely never hear the end of it. Good thing his phone, which he left on the other side of the room, has voice commands enabled.

"Oh, believe me, I will," Eddie says, but he also steps closer, pressing against Buck to peer over his shoulder. "Is that big pipe anchored to anything?"

"I think so. I didn't really want to yank on it too hard and find out."

"Okay, but what if I lift here—" He leans over Buck's shoulder as he speaks. "Hang on, let me get a better grip."

And then he hitches himself against Buck, warm and solid from chest to thigh, and honestly, Buck's life is a fucking farce.

"I'm pretty sure I saw a porno that started like this once," he blurts, because he can always be counted on to make an awkward situation worse by running his big mouth. And, okay, a little bit because Eddie plastered against him like this is extremely distracting, even under the current circumstances.

There's a long silence behind him, long enough to make him wonder if Eddie is genuinely offended. If maybe he's just going to stomp off and leave Buck stuck halfway through a basement wall until the 118 can show up with the halligan to rescue him, and then inevitably tease him mercilessly for the rest of his life. Which, like, he'd probably deserve, but he hopes not. The warm weight of Eddie's thigh tenses, then relaxes, but doesn't pull back.

"Oh my god," he says finally.

"Just saying," Buck adds, pressing his burning face to the cool concrete.

"What is wrong with you?" Eddie asks, but he sounds like he's laughing. "Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question."

"I mean. Lots, technically."

"And we are not—" Eddie breaks off with a grunt, shifting back. Something creaks ominously overhead. "Okay, here. Duck your head a little, and I think we can—"

The pipe shifts, scraping painfully across Buck's trapped arm. Cloth tears, and he winces as the sharp edge of the metal digs into the point of his shoulder, but then he's free. He stumbles backward, the torn shoulder seam of his shirt flapping stupidly, and trips over Eddie, sending them both to the floor in an awkward tangle of limbs.

"Oof," Eddie mumbles, and shoves Buck's elbow out of his gut to sit up. "You good?"

"My pride is never going to recover," Buck says, putting a hand over his burning face. Then, "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"Anytime," Eddie says, reaching down to pry Buck's hand out of the way. His hair is ruffled, and he's grinning, and honestly, Buck is in hell. "Come on. I think maybe this time we can leave the plumbing to the professionals. Have you had lunch yet?"

"No, I've been stuck in a wall for the past hour," Buck grumbles.

Eddie laughs again and gets to his feet, leaning down to offer Buck a hand. "Come on. We can stop by my place so you can grab a clean shirt, and then go get lunch. My treat."

"No, come on, I'm—you drove all the way over here to rescue me, I'll buy lunch."

"Well, I wasn't gonna leave you stuck in a wall all day."

"You're a good friend."

"Believe me, I know," Eddie says, but there's no rancor in it, or in the smile he aims Buck's way. His face is still faintly pink with laughter, and his eyes are sparkling, and Buck wants to kiss him.

It's an urge that's more or less constant these days, but it overwhelms him at the oddest moments. And the thing is, he's starting to think that if he tried it, Eddie might let him.

Now is probably not the moment for it; his shirt is still damp and smelly and Eddie is going to spend the rest of the day rightfully heckling him about this. But maybe someday. Maybe even someday soon.

Eddie pauses at the door, tilting his head toward the stairs. "You coming, or what?"

"Yeah, okay, I'm coming," Buck says, and follows him up out of the basement.

[imsozorii]

I prompt "what's wrong with you?" because it made me giggle even though that's probably not how it's meant! If it sparks ofc ✨

that also made me giggle, so this is... definitely not a serious interpretation of the prompt, lol.

-

"Listen," Buck says. "I can explain."

"Uh huh." Eddie sounds deeply skeptical. Buck can picture the expression that goes with it: the flattened mouth betrayed by the teasing sparkle in his eyes. He can't see that expression, unfortunately, because he is currently wedged headfirst in the basement wall along with a jagged tangle of dislodged pipes. At least one of them has ruptured, and there's a sour stink of stale water. Buck should probably count himself lucky that it's nothing worse than that, but he's not feeling especially lucky right now.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Well, it looks like you got your head stuck in the basement wall."

"Okay," Buck concedes. "It is what it looks like. But it's not my fault."

"How did you even…" Eddie trails off. His footsteps move around Buck, like he's trying to take in the whole humiliating scene.

Buck tilts his forehead against the bare concrete wall with a sigh. That makes the pipes shift slightly, but not enough that he can actually disentangle himself. "I was trying to get at the trap vent. Maddie said they've been having a weird smell coming from the bathroom sink, and I told her I could just take care of it while she was at work so she didn't have to call a plumber, and then…"

"And then the plumbing came to life and tried to kill you," Eddie concludes. He's not doing a very good job of pretending not to be laughing at Buck, here.

"You're very funny," Buck says sourly.

"So I'm told."

"No, listen, whoever did the plumbing down here was a moron who didn't secure everything right, and one of the anchors came out, and—can you just help me out, please? You can make fun of me as much as you want afterward."

He probably could get out by himself if he really had to, but not without breaking something potentially expensive. At least Eddie lives within fairly easy driving distance. His other options would have been waiting for Maddie to get home in six hours, or calling 911, and he'd absolutely never hear the end of it. Good thing his phone, which he left on the other side of the room, has voice commands enabled.

"Oh, believe me, I will," Eddie says, but he also steps closer, pressing against Buck to peer over his shoulder. "Is that big pipe anchored to anything?"

"I think so. I didn't really want to yank on it too hard and find out."

"Okay, but what if I lift here—" He leans over Buck's shoulder as he speaks. "Hang on, let me get a better grip."

And then he hitches himself against Buck, warm and solid from chest to thigh, and honestly, Buck's life is a fucking farce.

"I'm pretty sure I saw a porno that started like this once," he blurts, because he can always be counted on to make an awkward situation worse by running his big mouth. And, okay, a little bit because Eddie plastered against him like this is extremely distracting, even under the current circumstances.

There's a long silence behind him, long enough to make him wonder if Eddie is genuinely offended. If maybe he's just going to stomp off and leave Buck stuck halfway through a basement wall until the 118 can show up with the halligan to rescue him, and then inevitably tease him mercilessly for the rest of his life. Which, like, he'd probably deserve, but he hopes not. The warm weight of Eddie's thigh tenses, then relaxes, but doesn't pull back.

"Oh my god," he says finally.

"Just saying," Buck adds, pressing his burning face to the cool concrete.

"What is wrong with you?" Eddie asks, but he sounds like he's laughing. "Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question."

"I mean. Lots, technically."

"And we are not—" Eddie breaks off with a grunt, shifting back. Something creaks ominously overhead. "Okay, here. Duck your head a little, and I think we can—"

The pipe shifts, scraping painfully across Buck's trapped arm. Cloth tears, and he winces as the sharp edge of the metal digs into the point of his shoulder, but then he's free. He stumbles backward, the torn shoulder seam of his shirt flapping stupidly, and trips over Eddie, sending them both to the floor in an awkward tangle of limbs.

"Oof," Eddie mumbles, and shoves Buck's elbow out of his gut to sit up. "You good?"

"My pride is never going to recover," Buck says, putting a hand over his burning face. Then, "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"Anytime," Eddie says, reaching down to pry Buck's hand out of the way. His hair is ruffled, and he's grinning, and honestly, Buck is in hell. "Come on. I think maybe this time we can leave the plumbing to the professionals. Have you had lunch yet?"

"No, I've been stuck in a wall for the past hour," Buck grumbles.

Eddie laughs again and gets to his feet, leaning down to offer Buck a hand. "Come on. We can stop by my place so you can grab a clean shirt, and then go get lunch. My treat."

"No, come on, I'm—you drove all the way over here to rescue me, I'll buy lunch."

"Well, I wasn't gonna leave you stuck in a wall all day."

"You're a good friend."

"Believe me, I know," Eddie says, but there's no rancor in it, or in the smile he aims Buck's way. His face is still faintly pink with laughter, and his eyes are sparkling, and Buck wants to kiss him.

It's an urge that's more or less constant these days, but it overwhelms him at the oddest moments. And the thing is, he's starting to think that if he tried it, Eddie might let him.

Now is probably not the moment for it; his shirt is still damp and smelly and Eddie is going to spend the rest of the day rightfully heckling him about this. But maybe someday. Maybe even someday soon.

Eddie pauses at the door, tilting his head toward the stairs. "You coming, or what?"

"Yeah, okay, I'm coming," Buck says, and follows him up out of the basement.

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her voice was as silky as silken tofu. but her words were as firm as extra firm tofu

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people act like 20-22 year olds are adults who should be fully responsible and knowledgeable and with it and it’s like have you ever been 20, 21, 22? i knew nothing, i woke up every day dumb as rocks and made every bad choice possible until i went to bed

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the thing about being nonbinary is that you really do start to forget that other people have such strict walls around what is and isn’t allowed for genders. i thought we all agreed that we made that up. could you climb out of the cave real quick and feel the sunshine for a minute.

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the thing about piracy is that i know i deserve everything for free forever

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Sometimes people ask me 'why did you reblog your own post' and I'll answer that question with another question: why are people not giving me more attention I'm literally so funnyyy

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so what if I want to have total control over every single thing at all times. just let me lol

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hate when people are like "trust your gut! listen to your intuition!" like okay well my gut is telling me every person i lay eyes on is hunting me for sport and my intuition is saying i should find a secluded cave and live there forever so what do you suggest i do with that information

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im letting the days go by and i dont even have a beautiful house or a beautiful wife

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this dumb website is in need of some love, so reblog this if you like the person you reblogged it from!!!

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im always quoting this tweet and am shocked and appalled that it has under 5k likes

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“is this really the hill you want to die on?”

listen: yes. there are at least 72 hills i’d die on. quick, name a hill– boom. i’d die on that one too. don’t question my willingness to die on a hill

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They should invent a way to sit hunched over doing crafts that is Good for your body