#i was just sitting on the couch

[baconandvibrators]

Counterpoint

[otto-doctavius]

Logan and Mary Puppins are so “dad and the dog he said he didn’t want” coded. He was acting disgusted by that dog for 90% of the movie, then when they were going to fight the Deadpools that almost baby-talk “You won’t wanna see this, bub.” slipped out. Then ofc there’s the bit at the end when they’re all at the table and he’s just sitting there playing with her ears and laughing as he makes her high-five Laura. I see you, mr “she is NOT coming with us”. You like that nasty little dog

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[cross-d-a]

I truly absolutely ADORE how in Fugitive Telemetry Ratthi and Gurathin are just like- Murderbot’s bestie sidekicks who are so ready and willing to back it up and help kick ass and investigate a murder and worry all over Murderbot and then just like— go chill and grab lunch while Murderbot is Dealing With Things and also maybe possibly getting into some harrowing trouble and that moment where Murderbot calls them and is like HELP ME and Ratthi is so started he knocks his fucking chair over and Gurathin spills his drink and they help and then Murderbot is just like can’t talk now bye and then fucks off without explaining anything or if it’s okay like- I love them soooooo baddddddd plsssss

[copias-juicebox]

tobias daddy interview or whatever

[sourscratched]

warmup draws w my fave jocks

[confessionseddie]

BUCK AND EDDIE in 2.06, “Dosed” bonus:

[cherubytes]

i like how it's likely there's so much fanart of gabriel shirtless because his pauldrons just make no fucking sense and are a nightmare to draw

[inkskinned]

it's just that sometimes you have to love a thing including the ways that it inconveniences you like i keep picking dog hair out of my clothes because he steals things from my laundry basket to lay on them while i'm gone and whenever i use my laptop i have to type with my arms in a parabola to make room for his head on my legs and yes it's kind of a far ride to my mom's house but she always remembers to have dairy-free options available just in case i stop at home and nick lives in another timezone so we have to plan our calls carefully to be sure he's available and i'm not in bed and i hate driving and looking for parking but it means i get to visit my friends and i hate doing dishes but i'll do a million if it means i get to throw a dinner party for everybody and i hate being cold but one time we stood outside in the snow for 5 hours waiting for a concert, bundled up and red-nosed

i always apologize about the ways i take up space even when they're medical like at a restaurant i usually have to take the moment to say i really am allergic, sorry, and feel like i am making everyone around me angry and i always apologize when i am too tired to be funny or when i actually really do need to take care of my human body because it feels like i'm making everything about-me and i always apologize for the ways that i become needy; how i get scared when we're high up (and no for real please get down it actually kind of stops being funny) or how i panic if i hear a loud noise i wasn't expecting or how it's been years but there are days when i'm still doing the same shit, still drowning

the trick about relaxing, i think. like the answer to why i couldn't trust the idea anyone actually likes me. was realizing that at some point i am going to be an inconvenience, which means that at some point i need to trust other people want me to take up space. and yes, some people have to take up a lot of space. but. i relish this little gratitude: making room for people and things in my life. i love picking the dog hairs out of my food - it means i get to have a dog. i love answering the phone at 3 in the morning - it means someone is on the other line, and i can help them weave through life. i love the little chores - it means i have something productive to do. so what if you take up space - it means this world gets to have you.

[ivvyela]

thinking about that theory where peter parker is the mcu's anchor being. and like. the possibilities of it. imagine learning your entire universe's anchor being, the person who pretty much controls the fate of the universe, is some guy who just doesn't exist??? not even dropped off the face of the earth, but there is no proof of this person even existing in the first place???? and maybe strange or the fantastic four or whoever feels responsible for/is tasked with finding and protecting this anchor being but that's kinda hard to do when you have Absolutely Nothing to go off of.

or alternatively, peter himself learning that the entire universe is basically relying on him staying alive, and he already has a lot on his shoulders but this??? having lost everything and everyone and now learning that the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders and fuck!!! he just wanted to be a friendly neighborhood spider-man but that's parker luck for you!!

and like. there's so many ways to take it and i haven't seen anyone considering this and guys. guys. consider it. take it and run with it or what have you. fuck it and throw doctor doom in the mix for the irondad girlies because surely that will be fun.

and i know i know the theory doesn't fully go hand in hand with the mcu cannon but. fuck the cannon. let me scream into the void about this. let me shove it in your faces and hope someone does something with it. let me have my silly where's waldo peter parker anchor being au.

[couchsterfield]

tim gives enrichment days to patrick where price just lets him into his office and hands bateman a jar of pistachios and starts playing like a phil collins album or something for patrick to listen to while he nibbles a bunch of pistachios like a little hamster

[loulovingho]

wait is the whole thing of Tommy saying "it must be nice to have a whole crew behind you" foreshadowing that when he and Buck go through their rough patch, Buck will have Maddie, Josh, and Bobby to talk to and Tommy will... have no one?

[powerfulkicks]

so many tips for budgeting/being frugal are just twice as hard when you have a disability

"meal plan!" idk if i'll be feeling well enough to cook every day so it's hard to plan for what to eat

"cook in advance!" i can't cook meals for a whole week at once and plus i can't count on that because again idk if ill feel okay to cook at the same time every week

"use cloth napkins and towels!" those need to be washed and folded, i already have trouble doing my laundry

"delivery is expensive, always shop in person!" going to the grocery store can wipe me out for the day.

"base your food shopping on whats on sale that week!" one, allergies are a thing and some people don't have that luxury, two, that's a lot that you have to prep for and that takes energy.

"DIY!" takes time and energy. maybe i could do it by myself but would it be worth all the time i need to take to recover?

i mean none of these are bad ideas or trying to exclude people. most of it is cutting out conveniences. but for disabled people, something that's a convenience for someone can be a necessity to others

[theloveinc]

Bakugo is the type of idiot who doesn’t realize that roughhousing with someone you’re interested in is erotic … not until your legs end up around his waist, his arms above your head and his mouth near yours … and then he’s just thinking oh shit lmfao

[theladycarpathia]

Happiness, love, cohabitation (Clipboards and couches notwithstanding)

a.k.a. Tommy's still smitten by Clipboard Buck. (sequel to To Do List: Me (Buck's Tasklist)

“I hope you’re ready for this,” Eddie says under his breath, just as the moving truck pulls in.

“Ready for what?” Tommy asks, shielding his eyes against the sun. “Happiness? Love? Cohabitation?”

Eddie just gives him a look. Perhaps there’s a reason that he’s the only person from the 118 that volunteered to help today. Hen and Howie were conveniently otherwise engaged. Cowards.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he says darkly, nodding at the gleam of Buck’s truck down the road. It sounds ridiculous but Tommy’s stomach still dips a little at the mere suggestion of Buck.

“Evan’s moving in today,” Tommy says, choosing to ignore every single thinly veiled, ominous word out of Eddie’s mouth. “I swear to you, I have no idea.”

“Yes, you do,” Eddie says, as Buck pulls in, the flatbed still somehow piled high despite the large truck filled with Buck’s belongings. It hadn’t made a lot of sense for Tommy to move into Buck’s loft so it had been an easy decision. Tommy lives close enough to the 118 that it’s not that much more of a commute for Buck. “But you’re being a dick about it.”

“I told you,” Tommy says easily, as Buck climbs out, balancing a box on his knee as he shuts the door. “I’m happy.” Eddie just shakes his head.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” he promises, as Buck bounds over.

“Hi,” Tommy says and Buck beams back, beautiful and soft.

“Hi,” Buck returns, almost looking uncertain. Tommy’s had to face a few wobbly moments in the past few weeks. But he gathers that the past few times Buck’s moved in with someone it hasn’t gone very well.

“It’s not until Eddie pointedly clears his throat that Tommy realizes they’re just standing in the drive, with the removal men waiting patiently.

“Sorry we were a bit late,” Buck apologizes, looking as flustered as Tommy feels. They’re still in the ‘honeymoon stage’ as Hen likes to quip. Which is bull, because Tommy knows that when it’s the right person that it never just goes away. Hen and Karen for starters, are not exempt. “There was some trouble getting the furniture down the stairwell. I don’t remember it being so difficult to move in…”

“That’s because it was flat packed, Buck,” Eddie says and rolls his shoulders. “Where do we start?”

And then - alright, so Tommy had been expecting it, he had - Buck reaches into the cardboard box and pulls out a clipboard.

The look that Eddie gives him is very nearly worth it.

“I fucking told you,” Eddie says, tipping back the bottle of water until it’s empty. “God, I just knew it.”

“So you did,” Tommy says and Eddie crumples up the bottle.

“Are you telling me that you don’t see it?” he demands, tossing the bottle towards the recycling. “Are you seriously telling me that Clipboard Buck is just…Buck to you?”

Tommy’s been hearing about Clipboard Buck for nearly as long as he’s been dating Buck. Like Maurice, the jinx and the heist, it’s one of those things that seems to just pass into the 118 lore. Clipboard Buck is like a unicorn that occasionally appears before vanishing once more. If unicorns wore frowns and clicked their pens if you forgot to follow his exacting instructions.

The thing is that Tommy doesn’t mind. Everyone has their quirks. Howard smacks his gum, Hen frequently forgets to turn off her mothering, Eddie veers to the over dramatic. It’s just one of those things you learn to live with for someone you love.

“It’s endearing,” he says defensively, while Eddie snorts. “Besides, you just have to know how to use it.”

Eddie pauses, mouth open, before he wrinkles his nose. It didn’t take him long to think of the implications.

To be fair, it hadn’t taken Tommy all that long either the first time he’d seen Buck with a clipboard.

“Actually,” Eddie says, grabbing a few new bottles of water from the fridge. “I really don’t want to know.”

“Want to know what?” Buck asks, appearing in the doorway. It’s been hard work - it’s a beautifully sunny Los Angeles day and even with Buck’s loft, there’s still an astounding amount of stuff that needs to be moved in and arranged. Tommy’s - now theirs - bedroom has a significant pile of boxes lined up against the far wall.

Absolutely nothing obstructing the bed. Tommy had been very clear about that.

“What you do with that clipboard,” Eddie says bluntly and ducks out. Tommy reaches out to grab hold of Buck’s waist and pull him closer, deftly removing the clipboard from his grasp.

“This isn’t unpacking,” Buck says against Tommy’s bottom lip. Tommy slides a hand down the curve of Buck’s rear and isn’t surprised that Buck doesn’t take a whole lot of persuading to lean in. They’re pressed together, chests down to knees, and Tommy is pretty sure that Eddie handing out water to the removal guys can at least buy them a few minutes.

“We deserve a break,” Tommy insists and kisses him.

And yeah, a break turns into a few minutes of making out like horny teenagers against the kitchen island but sometimes you take what you have to to get through the day.

“This is going to make it very difficult to move the bookcase,” Buck sighs, letting Tommy kiss along his jaw.

“How’s the list?” Tommy asks, because that’s another, unforeseen advantage of Buck’s clipboard. Aside from the very memorable occasions where Buck writes out every awesomely filthy want in his head (to be ticked off meticulously) it also gives them an end goal for when everyone else goes home.

“Getting there,” Buck says, sliding a hand around Tommy’s neck. “A few more boxes, some bigger items. Are you sure all this stuff is going to fit?” Tommy shrugs. He hadn’t worried about it too much. He’s got the space and they’re both off tomorrow. Tonight they can christen the bed and unpack Buck’s essentials and tomorrow they can make a start on combining their lives.

“We’ll manage,” Tommy soothes. He can hear noises outside and they don’t have long but he wants to keep Buck here for just a moment longer. He smells faintly of sweat and lemon shower gel and Tommy wants to just keep breathing it in.

But when they emerge from the kitchen - the back of Buck’s hair rather obviously ruffled - they encounter an obstacle in the living room. Literally.

“We’ll have to shift that,” Tommy notes, because there’s not quite enough space for his couch, Buck’s couch, and the armchair. “It’s not exactly going to…Buck?”

Because Buck is staring, wide-eyed at the collection of furniture currently crowding Tommy’s front room.

“You have a couch,” Buck says and Tommy blinks.

“Yes,” he says. “Most people do.”

“I have a couch,” Buck says and Tommy is completely lost. He’s learned a lot of things about Buck by now - the jealousy (the incident with Sal was a good indicator,) the insecurities, the abandonment issues, and the obvious Clipboard Tyrant tendencies. Not one of them has been a deal breaker, despite Buck’s concerns.

But this is new.

“Still not seeing the problem here, Evan,” Tommy says. Eddie passes by the open doorway, hands now empty of water bottles. He sticks his head through, and briefly makes a confused face at Tommy behind Buck’s back.

“My previous couches came with girlfriends,” Buck explains and Eddie hurriedly disappears again.

“Did this couch come with a girlfriend?” Tommy asks, eying the blue three-seater that’s been wedged up against the wall.

“Look, I never had a couch because I lived in a frat house and then with Abby. And then couch one was chosen by Ali, who left me. Couch two had to go when Taylor moved in and then she moved out and I didn’t have a couch. And then my mom bought me a couch but Cameron had her baby on it and Couch four had to go to Goodwill because it was chosen by Natalia the Death Doula.”

“I see,” Tommy says, although he really doesn’t. But there’s not a lot of point in trying to decipher Buck when he babbles like this. “So. You bought this couch. By yourself?”

“No girlfriends,” Buck says and gestures to the couch in question. “Statistically, I don’t have the best luck with couches. Or girlfriends. If I get rid of this couch, I’m starting the cycle all over again. I know Hen told me to stop counting but if I buckle on this it’s very not Buck 5.0.”

Not one word of that made sense to Tommy. But he knows when Buck is spiraling and for some reason right now, Buck is spiraling.

“Evan,” Tommy says and rests his hands on either side of Buck’s face. He strokes his thumbs over Buck’s cheeks until he stops talking. “It’s fine. We can keep your couch. Mine can go downstairs or we can move the armchair. You don’t need to get rid of it.”

“I don’t?” Buck asks, looking dumbfounded.

“No,” Tommy says firmly. He still doesn’t quite understand it but the thing is that he doesn’t need to to soothe Buck. Buck’s worried about something and he can fix it. That’s all there is. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow. Your couch looks nice up here.”

“Okay,” Buck mumbles and then slumps against Tommy. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Tommy says and presses a kiss against the port-wine stain of Buck’s birthmark.

They stay like that for a while, wrapped around each other, Buck tucking his head in the curve of Tommy’s neck.

“I knew there might be complications moving in together, I just didn’t expect something like that,” Tommy says frankly when Buck finally lifts his head up.

“I’ll explain later,” Buck says, looking a little sheepish now that the moment of panic is over. “We should get the rest of the stuff in. Where’s Eddie?”

“Run away like a chicken,” Tommy says. “Does he know about the couch theory?”

“He knows,” Buck says darkly. Okay, maybe this is another part of the 118 lore - and Tommy needs to remember to ask later about the Buck labeling system. What was Buck 1.0? Does he even want to know?

When they emerge out into the sunshine again, the removal men and Eddie are sitting on the grass out front, drinking water.

“All good?” Eddie asks and Buck offers him a hand.

“Good,” he says, pulling Eddie up. “Are we nearly done?”

“You tell me,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips and looking at Tommy. It’s very much saying ‘You asked for this.’

But all Tommy can think as Buck hurries back inside for his clipboard is that yes, he absolutely did.

[deadleafpard]

'i'm so tired of having self respect, let's do something i'll regret"