#the press conference scene. THE FUCKING PRESS CONFERENCE SCENE

[weidli]

[ID: an edited version of the Jenny Slate "I had to unfollow NASA" meme from Drunk History. the edited caption of image 1 is "I had to stop watching Außer Gefecht because it made me too crazyyy.", image 2: "It would just be like, So war das nicht gemeint, mit den getrennten Wegen.", image 3: "And I was like: (in caps) *screams*." /end ID]

this post is a lie i have not and will not stop watching außer gefecht

#it's not even just that line i could make 3467536452 different versions of this meme just for this episode #it's not my fault this episode makes me so fucking insane !!! just LOOK AT IT #there's fucking layers to EVERYTHING i am lying on the floor chewing glass #ivo and franz' argument. (which. like. i have so many thoughts about how the thing that makes it so hard hitting for both of them is that #it is an EXACT REVERSAL of their usual arguments. how the problem at the core of it is that ivo can't recognize the person franz is being!! #because he is missing a MAJOR DETAIL #and the cherry on top of it is that when he sets out his ultimatum (wenn du mir nicht mehr traust franz etc) franz DOESN'T back down #something something that margaret atwood line. i used to think i'd know you anywhere. but it's getting harder #but that is a whole nother essay) #(AND also ivo saying zwölf erbärmliche leben to franz' face when [REDACTED] is one of the people peschen killed. hhhhhhh) #everything about franz and peschen in the elevator. #the press conference scene. THE FUCKING PRESS CONFERENCE SCENE #FRANZ VISIBLY STARTING TO DISINTEGRATE WHEN THE GUY ASKS IF THEY'RE ASSUMING THE DEATHS WERE BY CONSENT OF THE FAMILIES #the reoccuring motif of trust!! ivo says franz if you dont trust me anymore .... franz saying carlo and ivo will figure out what was in the #spritze auf die ist verlass ... peschen saying believe me. what's in this syringe is your salvation #franz saying i'll never let you go. over my dead fucking body #HHT. THE SCENE WHERE FRANZ IS STARTING TO FEEL THE SEROTONIN EFFECT #AND HE JUST FUCKING. SLAMS HIS HEAD AGAINST THE WALL. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WASTHAT #every day i think about this goddamn episode #tatort münchen #also the whole thing with. peschen WAITED. he fucking. he WAITED FOR THE MORPHINE TO TELL FRANZ THAT HIS FATHER LOVED HIM #WE CANNOT. WE DO NOT KNOW IF HE WAS FUCKING LYING OR NOT #NEITHER WILL FRANZ #among the many many things außer gefecht is about. it is also about the dead losing any chance to speak #franz will never know if anything peschen said is true #if josef's death was suicide or murder #AND then it is also about handholding. the humanity in the middle of horror!!! #i am a simple man i htink about franz and peschen holding hands and i make inhuman shrieking noises

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Me, crying over Trent Crimm (The Independent) breaking the number one rule of journalism and sharing his source with Ted bc of how much he respects him? More likely than you think.

#it’s just. the way that they’ve changed so much since the pilot #Trent crimm of the early days wouldn’t have hesitated #and then it’s the fact that he’s a professional. and it’s so blatantly obvious by the way he holds himself in press conferences that it’s #important to him. that being a professional journalist is a big deal. it’s who he is #and he just. threw it away. bc Ted deserves better than the betrayal from Nate #it’s like. a testament to how profoundly Ted has impacted so many peoples lives #and we don’t even get to see that development occur really with Ted and Trent #we get the whole journey with Jamie. with Rebecca. with Nate. #but we can get a pretty good idea of what it looked like given the scenes we did have and given this absolutely critical moment #fuck man #can’t believe I’m crying over the soccer/football show #Ted lasso #ted lasso series #Trent crimm the independent

[margaritalaux-antille]

ok i'm at the end of season 2 and ken has gotten me a little bit i'm not gonna lie. he's still not my fave but i can at least understand now why he's popular.

#kit speaks #succession lb #the press conference scene wasn't the same without look what you made me do playing in the background tho i love that edit #(but also with the full context it's definitely more fun asfsjdlkf) #loved his kiss of judas moment with logan too that fucked

[lemmetreatya]

actor!armin who always plays innocent, helpful characters on screen but is a manipulative menace in real life.

when press conferences and interviews come around, he knows how to put on an act; sweet smiles, careful attention to younger children and their fumbled words, barely any contact when it comes to female colleagues. when fans catch him outside of the studio, he’s friendly and never shuns admirers away. actor!armin knows he has the whole thing down to a T and has never had to worry about his exposure of behind the scenes behaviour.

but when it comes to you, his most trusted fan site runner, actor!armin doesnt know what draws him to you.

you’re fucking crazy, he thinks — follow his press tour routes, know most of his family and friends on a personal level. hell, sometimes you post updates on schedules even he hasn’t found out yet

actor!armin wants to get rid of you; really and truly, because you make him feel a way about himself that no one else does. you seem to glorify him on a level he’d hate to attain. yes, actor!armin wants people to worship the ground he walks on, but you seem to worship his very being.

“don’t you have any family to fucking attend to? friends? a life?”

actor!armins cornered you around the block wall of the studio although hes due up on stage in 15 for the press release of his latest action film. all he wanted to do was take a quick smoke break, have a breather! but he couldn’t even have that as you too seem to be round the back too.

with a snort, you dont even mind the way he heaves a wad of spit near your foot. did he think that was going to push you away??

“what, you think i do this for free?” a sweet giggle leaves your mouth along with the wad of smoke you puff into his face. “your pa pays me too handsomely for me to walk away because simply because you told me to.”

actor!armin wheres a confused look on his face because actually yes, he did think you did this for free. now that he thinks about it, the fact you were being paid for this makes sense, but he just never thought that was the case. as you watch his face, you realise that too.

“you didnt know?! fuck, you’re more pathetic than i imagined.”

actor!armin doesnt know why but he feels his straight trousers grow slightly uncomfortable at your words. and of course you notice that too because as his mouth gaps for lack of answer, you’re raising your knee between his crotch — the ghosting sensation causing him to slip out an unsolicited moan.

“just think…” your free hand comes down to palm at his trousers in replacement of your knee, your other hand letting you take another drag of your cigarette.

“imagine if people knew just how nasty you were. if all your fans were aware about what the sick type of fuck you were — mighty and worshipped armin arlert getting off to user arminofficialupdates at the back of a conference building, gets hard off of an insult. fucking lame.”

actor!armin starts to let out watery whimpers as he hears you talk down at him. he didnt even realise your hand had slipped past his trousers or boxer briefs until he feels the icy cold air of your hands invading from outside.

actor!armin had his head dipped just over your shoulder whilst his hand stayed on the brick wall by your head for support. your hand dryly ran up and down his cock. the shick, shick of his handjob over powered by actor!armin’s pathetic whines. you continue to finish your cigarette, throwing the stub to the ground once it burnt to the filter. all throughout, your face was unbothered as you continued to degrade the blonde in spouts of annoyance — the occasional “good boy” added in for affect.

actor!armin messily finished over your clenched fist and the light grey of his suit jacket — the material now blotched dark.

the blonde pants for his breath, still stood in the same position. however, you duck under his arm to escape his grasp, but not before wiping the semen that was on your hand onto the back of his jacket. actor!armin whips round as soon as you do it but you dont stay long enough to face the brunt of his reaction. you only smugly walk back into the building through the side door, the fire exit shutting with a grinded halt.

actor!armin lets out a loud “fuck” as he angrily shrugs off his suit jacket — the item soiled. his pa was so gonna kill him.

#armin aot #armin x you #armin arlet #armin x reader #armin headcanons #armin smut #armin x y/n #snk armin #shingeki no kyoujin #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan armin #armin x black reader

[theemporium]

Max ready to destroy the earth if someone so much as disrespects or pisses Trouble off

it’s low-key giving will smith🤠anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Max was always very blunt and honest in conferences and interviews, it was just the way he was.

And it wasn’t uncommon for him to defend himself and his friends in said interviews. He did it countless times when journalists tried to push stories about him being too aggressive, too angry, too competitive on track.

He did it countless times when they would come for Charles and blame he was taking for his team’s mistakes. He did it countless times when people questioned Daniel’s performance and his right to have the Red Bull seat. He did it countless times when they tried to drag Lando for not achieving highly when McLaren weren’t giving him the car he needed to be proving he could do as much.

And he would be damned if he didn’t do it for you too.

It was after a race. He was tired, exhausted even, and all he wanted to do was wrap up the rest of his duties so he could maybe sneak a nap in with you before you both joined the rest of the team for a night out to celebrate his win.

He was approaching the last interviewers, a name he vaguely recognised and his nose scrunched up when he remembered most of the man’s questions were tasteless and dry. But he shrugged it off, keeping a passive face as he approached the journalist with his PR manager lingering behind him with a tape recorder in hand.

“Max Verstappen, how does it feel to be a winner again?”

He gave the man a tight-lipped smile and hoped it was enough to hide his exhaustion as he continued the interview.

And it was going fine, in retrospect. The man’s questions were similar to the countless ones he had been asked before. But he couldn’t complain because they were easy to answer, and easy to mostly zone out until he knew he had to answer.

Until he asked something that caught Max’s attention right away.

“Any plans to celebrate with your side piece after your race win? Maybe get her on her knees?”

Max blinked, and for a short moment he wondered if he just completely mistranslated what the man said.

“What?”

But the man repeated the question again, a slimy smirk on his face and your name was rolling off his tongue. And truthfully, Max didn’t even remember moving or reacting or even breathing in that moment.

One second the man was holding a microphone to his face, awaiting his answer. And the next, he was on the floor as he clutched his bloody nose and screamed Bloody Mary.

He was vaguely aware of other drivers and journalists and PR managers looking over, trying to understand the scene in front of them. He was vaguely aware of security being called and someone mentioning Christian or Helmut. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to tug him back, but he just shrugged them off.

“She’s my girlfriend, you moronic dickhead,” Max spat at the crying journalist. “Put some fucking respect on her name.”

“Alright, let’s go before you break any more noses,” he heard Daniel mutter behind him, and this time he let himself be pulled back.

But then his eyes caught the wide, scared gaze of the cameraman who was recording the whole thing, and he glared. “I hope that bullshit was live. Because next time, I’m breaking more than a fucking nose if anyone ever disrespects her again.”

Despite the commotion being sudden, news spread very quickly around the paddock so it was no surprise to Max that you knew by the time he made it to his driver’s room.

“Playing the knight in shining armour now, huh?” You teased as he entered, still sprawled on the couch without a bother in the world.

“He deserved it,” Max stated simply as he made his way towards you. No matter what happened, no matter what put him in a shitty mood, just being near you always helped.

“He did,” you hummed as you opened your arms and let your boy settle on top of you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Always, Trouble,” he murmured in reply.

A few beats passed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you do it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice as casual as possible as you ran your fingers through his hair. “It was kinda hot.”

You could feel his smirk against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Max lifted his head, his eyes a little darker and his mood significantly different to when he entered minutes ago. “Hot enough for me to fuck you over this couch?”

“Hot enough for you to have me any way you want me,” you confessed, your words a little breathier than usual as you felt his hands graze down your side.

Max’s smile was almost sadistic. “Bend over the couch, Trouble.”

.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[forteafy]

3 + max!

MV1 x 'You and your stupid smile...Get that shit away from me.'

I've NEVER written for Max before, but I'm low-key in my enemies to lovers arc with him.

Loosing your paddock pass was bad; the rain tricking down the back of your neck was worse.

Working behind-the-scenes of Formula 1 came with some incredible perks; good pay, cooperate outings & the anonymity of your life; you’d seen it go really bad for some couples which had gone public. The same had gone for you and your ex-boyfriend, the golden child of Christian Horner. 

After a few weeks of cold stares and silence, the press had died down on your part, leaving you alone whilst the cameras were continuously shoved into Max’s face; his stance was to keep his head down, his target solely being his third championship. Eventually, you faded back into one of the unknown faces of Red Bull Racing, a whisper sometimes crossing from a rival team; you. It was you. The ex-girlfriend of Max Verstappen. 

Albeit, being well-known may have helped you in your current situation. Instead, you were stood in front of a security guard, arms folded as he waiting for you to pull out a pass. In all fairness, how many women showed up in team attire, playing the card that they had ‘forgotten’ their pass? Your phone was still at the hotel; a silent regret you had thought of, imagining your pass laid atop of it on your mad rush to leave that morning. Fuck Christian Horner for moving the meeting two hours earlier. 

You were on the verge of admitting defeat- you would have admitted defeat, if not for the sudden eyebrow raise by the security guard and the voice emitting from behind you. 

“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He nods, pulling his cap tighter to his head upon the weather becoming heavier. There’s a gentle pressure at the small of your back; after giving a thankful nod towards the security guard, Max leads the two of you through the barrier, waiting until you reached the other side to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“No pass? That’s not like you.” He hums; his voice seems almost a ghost, having barely spoken more than ten words to one another in the past few months. 

“No. Blame your boss.” You huff, feeling your clothes dampen by the minute. On top of the triple header, it seems you’re going to be carrying a huge cold through Austria and Silverstone. “Who moves forward a meeting at four in the morning?” 

Max can’t help the smirk settling on his face; he’d miss this. The upmost sulking. The sheer black-cat energy that emitted from you. Everybody had been used to seeing him as the grumpy trope, anybody who knew the two of you understood it was so, so different. 

“Don’t.” You snap, the wind only getting heavier, now soaking through the Red-Bull shirt you’d freshly steamed that morning. 

“Don’t what?”

“You and your stupid smile…get that shit away from me.” 

You’d not been able to get his grin out of your mind for weeks. Interviews, meetings, press conferences, nights out. It was always there, a reminder he wasn’t the cold, heartless brute the media could paint him as. 

Your mind is drawn out of its trance of thoughts when you feel a sudden warmth pressed around your shoulders, vision darkening as something covers your sodden head; Max had wiggled out of his own windbreaker, slipping it around your body, pulling the hood up to cover your head. The man waits patiently, and at this point your body is so cold, it will take anything. 

It’s clearly not thinking either, as once you’ve adjusted the garment, you automatically reach out to clasp Max’s hand, breath catching when you feel nothing but raindrops and cold air. 

You prey he hasn’t noticed, ready to simply thank him for his gesture and walk on. What you didn’t expect, was for his hand to find yours, motioning forward, hands interlocked for the first time in months. And you couldn’t be mad, not truly. Not when you looked up at the man whom sacrificed his warmth and dry for you. 

And especially not with that smile. A smile that emitted when Daniel walked past, eyes widening at seeing his favourite couple reunited for the first time in months. 

Max says nothing, but his smile says it all. 

#MV1 #Max Verstappen #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Max Verstappen x Y/N #Max Verstappen x You #Max #Lestappen #Verstappen #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Formula 1 x Reader #Red Bull #RBR #Red Bull Oracle

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Can you please do the office meeting fucking "hyunjin x m'reader" please?? I'm begging you! :D

Boss's Request

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Top!Boss!Hyunjin x Bttm!Assisant!Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Hyunjin decides to spice up the meeting after being pent up and teased by you all day.

More: Masterlist

A/n: Requests are open

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

The fashion world was abuzz with anticipation as the new Hwang Hyunjin line was about to be unveiled. M/n, the boss's "personal" assistant, was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, making sure every last detail was perfect. Hyunjin himself was pacing the floor, his usually immaculate suit rumpled and his hair mussed. Something was clearly bothering him, but no one could quite put their finger on it. Everyone else was too focused on the new designs and the potential impact they could have on the industry.

Meanwhile, M/n caught a glimpse of Hyunjin stealing glances in his direction every now and then. It was almost as if the boss was… admiring him. M/n couldn't help but feel a blush creep up his neck. He'd been with Hyunjin for long enough to know that look, and it usually meant trouble.

As the final touches were being put on the collection, Hyunjin called M/n over to his office. Once the door was closed and they were alone, Hyunjin leaned against his desk, his eyes raking over M/n's body. "You've been busy lately," he purred. "I've barely seen you. I've missed…" He trailed off, biting his bottom lip. "I've missed my stress reliever."

M/n felt his heart skip a beat. He knew exactly what Hyunjin meant. Their relationship had been secret for months, but it was no secret that whenever M/n was around, Hyunjin seemed to forget about everything else. He was always so focused on M/n, and it drove him wild.

As the two went to the meeting and sat down, M/n could feel Hyunjin's eyes on him, even when he was speaking with the other designers. It was a mix of desire and possessiveness that made M/n's blood race. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't help but feel turned on by the attention.

The meeting went on, with M/n doing his best to keep his mind on the task at hand. But every time Hyunjin shifted in his seat or let out a soft groan, M/n's focus would slip. It was obvious that Hyunjin was struggling to contain himself, and M/n couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he gave in to those urges.

Finally, midway through the presentation, M/n felt Hyunjin's hand snake its way up his inner thigh. He glanced over in surprise, only to find Hyunjin's dark eyes locked on him. The boss's expression was a mix of desire and possession that made M/n's heart race. Without another word, Hyunjin leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I can't take it anymore. Bend over the table."

Embarrassment washed over M/n as he complied, lowering his body and resting his elbows on the smooth surface. He felt Hyunjin's fingers trace the line of his boxers and pants before they were roughly yanked down, exposing him. The cool air from the air conditioner hit his sensitive skin, making him shiver.

But any hint of modesty was quickly forgotten as Hyunjin's hard length pressed against his entrance. There was no gentleness in the thrust, only a primal need that took control of the boss. M/n let out a gasp as Hyunjin pushed deeper, filling him completely.

Their moans filled the conference room full with employees, drowning out the sounds of the other designers as they presented their work. M/n could feel Hyunjin's hips slapping against his ass, driving himself deeper inside him with each thrust. He arched his back, unable to contain his own pleasure as his boss took control of him.

The other employees shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying to pretend like they weren't watching the intimate scene unfolding before them. But Hyunjin didn't seem to care; he continued to fuck M/n, his gaze never leaving the other people in the room. He let out a husky laugh as he pulled out, only to thrust back in harder. "See, M/n? They're all looking away. They're afraid of what I'll do to them if they say anything about this. And you? You're mine. You have no reason to be embarrassed."

M/n gasped as Hyunjin's words sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't deny the thrill he felt, knowing that they were putting on a show for everyone. It was a power play, and Hyunjin was in control. He arched his back, meeting Hyunjin's thrusts with equal fervor. The boss's cock felt impossibly big inside him, stretching him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"That's it, baby," he whispered in M/n's ear. "Make them jealous. Make them wish it was them up there, taking my cock." With each thrust, Hyunjin's hips slapped against M/n's ass, driving him deeper inside. The boss's hands gripped M/n's hips tightly, holding him in place as he took him roughly.

M/n could feel his orgasm building, the pleasure overwhelming him as he felt so completely owned by his boss. He moaned Hyunjin's name, the sound filling the room as he lost control. His muscles tensed, and he arched his back, meeting Hyunjin's thrusts with a ferocity that left them both gasping for breath.

As he came, M/n felt Hyunjin's own release, felt the hot liquid spill over his entrance as the boss found his own release inside him. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, the rhythm of their movements mirroring the power struggle that had brought them to this moment.

When at last they came down from their shared high, Hyunjin pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants. He straightened his tie, adjusting his suit jacket before turning back to face the others in the room. His expression was cool and confident, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.

M/n, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions as he tried to regain his composure. His heart raced, his body still trembling from the intense release. He looked around, feeling the weight of the other designers' gazes on him, knowing that they had all witnessed what had just happened. But he also felt a newfound sense of power, of being a part of something bigger than himself.

Hyunjin leaned back against the table, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes met M/n's, and there was a smug satisfaction in them that M/n couldn't quite place. "Well," he said, his voice still husky from their exertions, "I think that's enough for today. You all have your assignments. Get back to your desks and make me proud."

As the other designers began to file out of the room, murmuring amongst themselves, M/n lingered behind, still feeling the aftershocks of their encounter. Hyunjin placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. "Come on, M/n," he whispered in his ear, "let's go back to my office and discuss your performance today."

#bangchansdirty-slut #boss x employee #office smut #kpop x male reader #bottom male reader #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x male reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x male reader #male reader #skz x male reader #x male reader #kpop smut

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.

Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:

Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.

First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.

Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.

Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.

You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*

Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--

#good omens mascot #good omens #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #good omens fandom #crowley #lgbtqia #aziraphale #neil gaiman #ineffable fandom #good omens 2 #final fifteen #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #good omens brainrot #ineffable brainrot #good omens book #the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter #aziracrow

[youspeakshit]

lestappen 2022 moments ~

I wrote this as a reblog to a different post when I saw people saying they barely interacted up until half of 2023. I wanted to share it as its own thing since it really confused me, I actually changed ships in 2022 bc lestappen were all over each other and I fell in love with them.

I'm gonna link some 2022 content so everyone can cheer up together abt the saudi gp podium weirdness, and make heart eyes at their cuteness.

Getting it outta the way first thing, press conference silliness: one two three four. And an extra twitter thread sharing stuff from each gp.

Max interrupting Charles' interview to say hi, and both forgetting about it to have a small chat.

Do I hear hot ass battles on track? And second link has as surprise this gay ass moment bellow.

And here from a different angle bc austria 2022 is everyone's roman empire.

Charles congratulating Max on his win; they also greeted each other from the cars.

The infamous Charles vlog with Max in the us gp: mysteriously hidden and then removed from his channel.

Them touching 166 times for no reason.

Spending too much time together and using the same phrases.

Behind the scenes of monaco gp by Ferrari and Red Bull are a good watch as well!

Charles got Max for the secret santa that year.

British gp had hidden camera silly debriefings, and also my personal favorite... Charles went after Max to vent about Ferrari fucking up his race and Max looked genuinely upset for him. Extra gifset.

This is just a short compilation of a long year fueled by lestappen that I hope ppl enjoy to learn about or revisit. That year they had 8 podiums together, that's 8 cool down rooms podcasts. And 14 qualis shared, plus 14 post-quali press conferences and waist-hugs. Countless sightings of them out and about with their personal debriefing after qualis and races. It sure was kinda awkward at first, they both seemed to wanna make small talk before getting the hang of their dynamic. But they were battling each other A LOT during this season and having so much fun racing together!

I'll end it linking to a twitter thread with some extra bits. Including this photo from when they got f1 married. Or whatever this was.

#lestappen #formula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #formula one #there are many more things you could find but it was 4am and i had to sleep lol #but yeah guys they interacted a FUCKTON #like i was disappointed in 2013 bc ferrari's car never let charles keep up with max #oh and their battles 100% paved the way for the relationship to heal and flourish #f1

[thelaurenshippen]

finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

#sag aftra #sag #sag strike #AI #me: I'm just gonna look through the terms #me: I'm just gonna do a quick write up before starting my day #clock: it's been almost two hours #not to keep hammering at the 'this is not me saying that I am correct or that I've made up my mind' bit #but this is the piss on the poor reading comprehension website so #I'M NOT SAYING I'M RIGHT #TAKE ALL THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT #i mostly have questions and concerns and am pleasantly surprised at some stuff #knowing that there *is* a degree to which we will have to compromise #and I'm WILDLY concerned about other stuff #would love to hear what other SAG members think

[itsclydebitches]

We've all rightly been gushing over Trent listening in on the parent-teacher conference and there are a lot of cool interpretations for why he'd eavesdrop: a crush on Ted, a tendency towards gossip (as seen in "International Break"), the fact that you just can't take the journalism out of the boy, Trent is clearly picking up personal tidbits for the book if the group's initial "Don't print that" worries are any indication, etc. So yeah, it's clear why he'd want/be okay with the door staying open.

Meanwhile, I'm slightly feral over Ted letting the door stay open and what that conveys to Trent.

Based on what we've picked up about his personal life and the direction of this season, we have good reason to believe that Trent was a deeply isolated man prior to Ted arriving. His job makes enemies simply by virtue of the profession itself, especially when you "bring the heat" as hard as he did. Roy flipping the press off at the gala in Season 1 and Nate sneaking out at dark this last episode shows us how journalists are treated on the regular: ignored, dismissed, told to "fuck off" as a matter of course. That's often well deserved, as Roy's two personal stories (Trent's article about him + the response to Isaac's attack) attest, but the end result is still a profession that alienates you from anyone other than your peers. When you're a "colossal prick" in your articles, people hate you all the more.

So Trent at least has other journalist buddies, yeah? Well, not that we've seen. I always think back to that chorus of "--The Independent" in the press room when everyone knew what Trent was going to say and how it... wasn't entirely fun ribbing. I think there's a fair bit of mockery there. Even if others disagree, I doubt that was received well by someone who wears their professionalism as an armor, who takes off his glasses as soon as they're complimented, who was, notably, closeted into his 40s. Trent is a man who is deeply aware of how others perceive him (pointing out his "vibe" feels quite calculated now: highlight what you want people to notice rather than waiting for them to find something on their own) and he is likely to read the worst of most interactions. Cue his shocked, "You really mean that, don't you?" when faced with someone like Ted who is not only genuinely nice, but blunt about it in a way that Trent can't misunderstand, or brush off via denial.

What's his home life like? Married to a woman when he's gay and that's putting a serious strain on them both. He tries to come out and isn't believed. The only other family members we know about are a toddler (who, while lovely I'm sure, can't provide Trent with the kind of emotional support an adult needs) and a father who, if we read the series through Lance's headcanons, may not have been very supportive of his son. Who else does Trent know? Uhhh... other subjects who hate him? Owners like Rebecca who want to use him? A random, potential date that he felt so little for he ditched to get a quote?

(EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to mention the strong implications that Ted was bullied in childhood/as a teenager, based on how he reacts to the whole of the club ignoring him -- resigned but unsurprised -- his reaction to Roy telling him to fuck off after he tries to mend that relationship -- disappointedly awkward "I can't believe I even tried that. What was I thinking?" -- and his body language during the locker room scene -- jumping, furtive glances towards Ted, backed up against the shower stall because shit, he's been in this situation before.

So uh, yeah. Trent may not have had a lot of friends growing up either! That was not the response of a social butterfly, but rather someone who is already very used to being ignored/dismissed/cursed out/threatened, not just within his profession, but within the school-like atmosphere of Richmond's family too.)

I'm by no means reinventing the meta wheel here, but Trent has truly undergone a STAGGERING transformation in Season 3 and the result of that is the reframing of his Season 1 and 2 scenes as, frankly, more depressing than they originally seemed. Seeing him now smiling, singing, gossiping, dressing just in t-shirts, casually snacking, making jokes, letting go enough to be a complete, hyperactive "dork" in front of others... it just hammers home how deeply unhappy Trent was before. How closed off. How closeted--in more ways than one.

So what must it mean to someone like Trent for Ted to leave the door open?

It's not just an open invitation towards community--sit near me, listen in, quietly participate, there's literally no barrier between us--but a staggeringly personal one too. I don't care if a 10-ish year old failing science is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that letting anyone hear a parent-teacher conference with your ex is a hell of a show of trust. That would mean a lot to Trent in general, this acknowledgement that someone trusts the ex-prick journalist with that amount of personal information, but Ted in particular? Oh boy. Ted is the one Trent betrayed with that article! And yeah, Ted forgave him the instant he learned of it, but Trent himself was obviously feeling a lot of guilt, hence him burning his source and orchestrating a firing. Toss in the fact that Ted, despite being a VERY open man on the regular (I still laugh at his "I don't mind" to Rebecca when over-sharing about Michelle) has in fact denied Trent information in the past. No, I won't tell you that was a panic attack. Yes, I will continue the lie that it was food poisoning. Perhaps for Ted it was less about Trent knowing and more about anyone getting at the truth, but at the end of the day it amounts to the same: there was a time when Ted did not fully trust him and Trent justified that fear by writing the very article Ted was looking to avoid, even if Trent approached that situation with as much grace as he could.

So this moment, beyond the humor, just makes my brain go !!!!!! for Trent. Ted Lasso, of all people, has left the door open for Trent Crimm, also of all people, to hear the messy details of his, Henry, and Michelle's life. He is not at all afraid that this information will be spun in a bad light--Local Gaffer's Son Suffers While Father Plays at Coach Across the Pond--despite the fact that Trent is actively writing a book about him. Trent himself is so unguarded in this moment, dressed only in a t-shirt, playing around with his orange, making little quips. The Trent of Season 1 would NEVER. I mean, I think we see small glimpses of the real Trent back then, especially when Ted amuses him enough to coax his guard down for half a second (Trent's reaction to “Make like Dunst and Union and bring it on, baby!" comes to mind. That's a gesture we're seeing a lot now that he's comfortable around the club), but on the whole he was still so, so, so isolated. No one knew the real him: gay, funny, dorky, inquisitive, longing for companionship and using the artificial 'closeness' of journalism to cover that ache up.

Now? Trent is fully a part of the Richmond community and he knows he's a part of it because everyone--Ted, Beard, Roy, Colin, Rebecca--are going out of their way to tell him that, notably in very overt ways. Trent strikes me as someone who wouldn't fully believe it when he's told someone enjoys his company; the kind of wounded, anxiety-prone person who, if casually invited to participate, would assume they're just being polite and he'd actually be an annoyance to them. Trent needs overt, obvious, beat-you-over-the-head-with-it reassurance, which is why Ted is so very good for him because Ted is composed of THE most over-the-top positivity you've ever seen. (Compare that need of Trent's to Michelle thinking that Ted is too much...) When faced with a defensive journalist Ted says explicitly that he liked spending time with Trent. When faced with a still unsure writer who thinks of himself only as an observer--never a part of the team himself--Ted literally begs with monkey noises to hear Trent's opinions. He's blunt to the point of absurdity and someone like Trent who has likely spent the majority of his life hiding/being told that his true self is inadequate needs that level of constant, neon-light reassurance.

So Ted leaves the door open to a personal conversation, refusing to literally bar Trent from his life. The best part? Colin re-opens the door because he understands Trent and he knows his coach; of course Ted wants him included. Colin asks permission to CLOSE the door, not open it, and Trent is seeing this openness again and again over the course of several months, with each episode bringing him further out of his shell as he slowly unlearns that self-doubt. Yes, please stay, please tell us what you think, please offer your advice, please join our Diamond Dogs, please ask us questions (they're no longer perceived as a threat), please become an integral part of our lives. We trust you and we like you and we want you here.

Everyone's waiting for Trent to catch the door again because, you know, the rule of three, but what if he doesn't need to? What if he's past slipping a hand or a foot through the crack and scraping by on what that gets him? He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Colin. He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Ted. Now they've both kept the door open for him, his presence welcomed from the get-go.

Trent doesn't need to sprint for that opening anymore.

#Ted Lasso #Trent Crimm #Tedependent #ted x trent #mymetas

[dustykneed]

OKAY YALL. jim totally has movie nights/show watching nights with bones and spock (jim's captain's quarters have this big retractable screen meant for conference calls or viewing ship logs but obviously it also effectively doubles as a giant tv screen!!) and it basically turns into sleepover night where they have fun doing the fun kiddy shit they deserve (after bones and jim nearly started brawling after jim wiped the floor at monopoly via "underhanded GODDAMN tactics" according to bones, spock has made a note never to attempt to bring up monopoly on movie nights EVER AGAIN)

but also consider: pre-slash spones watching a show and arguing about favourite characters ("Your parameters for selecting a 'favourite character' are most illogical, Doctor." "Favouritism is favouritism, Spock! I couldn't give a rat's ass about goddamned logic!") but agreeing that their favourite chars would make a great couple ("It would be illogical to deny the high compatibility of these characters. One might be inclined to infer that their opposing characteristics may in fact be complementary and hence conducive to an optimal relationship." "By God, just say that ya think they look good together, Spock!") EXCEPT THEIR FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ARE BASICALLY THEMSELVES RESPECTIVELY lmao

jim is sitting next to them on the couch watching them argue shaking his head like it is So obvious ya doofuses GET TOGETHER ALREADY

until this new character (extremely jim-coded) is introduced in the next season who has shockingly intense chemistry with each of the bones/spock coded chars individually. Which starts a whole ship war between bones and spock, who, ironically, ship the other's character with the new one, and go ham on trying to prove (quoting scenes, acting choices, prop choices, even theorising about behind-the-scenes agendas) that they're right about their ship. jim thinks it's absolutely fucking hilarious seeing his best friends come extremely close to duking it the fuck out on his couch over FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, GUYS, COME ON. all the while bones and spock are losing their fucking minds because occasionally their own favourite characters will have Moments and they'll go insane trying to figure out which ship is definitively endgame. they have a bet going that whoever has their ship sunk will have to hand over a quarter of their lab time to the victor and act as assistant while the other uses the time to work on their own experiments.

jim thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen- UNTIL ON THE LAST EPISODE OF THE SEASON ALL THREE CHARACTERS GET TOGETHER. jim (who has Known how much the character dynamics reflected the triumvirate themselves all along) is completely fucking speechless and has a huuuuge epiphany about his own feelings for spock and bones. meanwhile bones (speechless with pure unfettered rage both at the fact that technically he was wrong but also HOW COULD HE NOT HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE???) and spock (kicking himself mentally for not having considered this possibility previously) are about to argue (all while jim is spiralling lmfao) when the bones-coded character says something like "huh. I guess we were so focused on trying to pair up that we forgot we worked best together as a trio." and bones starts to Get It, and then spock also starts to Get It, and they turn to jim, who gets that they Get It, and begins to giggle hysterically, and it is so contagious that bones starts to die of laughter and even spock cracks a chuckle.

Later, when they're all lying in jim's giant bed sleepy and happy and satisfied, cuddled together and cozy as hell, jim tells them that he's sorta known they (spones) would get together like in the show all along but he doesn't know how he didn't figure out where he came into the equation until now when it was so obvious!! and bones tells him he thinks he had always loved jim and spock but for some reason it took months and months of ship wars to see it (lol) which he's definitely glad for despite the high blood pressure every time he and spock would argue. and spock presses a kiss to the corner of jim's mouth and two fingers to bones' own, and whispers that for once, he agrees fully with leonard on the matters of their new favourite ship. jim doesn't think he's ever grinned that wide in his entire fucking life.

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek aos #tos #aos #works for both methinks #mcspirk #spones #spirk #mckirk #leonard mccoy #spock #jim kirk #mcspirk headcanons #star trek headcanons #LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD DO ART OF THIS LMAO #im too brain't to figure out how to deal with finding fictional characters to actually write a fic about this but i might do art #dust hcs #dust trek hcs #GOD AFTER WRITING THIS I FIGURED OUT I SPELT A WORD WRONG IN MY MIDTERM PAPER #agh #AGH #sigh should have gone w my first instinct DAMMIT #THIS IS 724 WORDS #i WISH i could write fic that quickly but nooo #WHO WAS GONNA TELL ME THERES LIKE 3 TYPOS i fixed it but its going to be in the rbs forever lmao RIP

[sleepymccoy]

Please enjoy this fairly horny spones scene I wrote last night. I'm unlikely to ever write more of it, but it's still fun

And that seemed to wrap things up.

“Mr. Spock,” McCoy said quickly, before he took the cowards way out and said nothing.

Kirk and Chapel looked at him, their expressions as curious as Spock's was blank.

“Yessir?” Spock asked.

McCoy smiled with banality. “Do you have a minute for me?”

“Ah, I have nothing pressing.” Spock looked at Kirk and raised his eyebrows for permission. “Captain?”

“Everything alright, Bones?”

“I think I have my nanoscope setting wrong,” McCoy lied. He'd prepared this lie in the last few minutes of their impromptu meeting and it flowed of his tongue easily. He grinned sheepishly. “Spock's better with this newfangled shit than I am. Not that you heard me say it.”

Kirk smirked and mimed zipping his lips shut. “Mum’s the word.” He invited Chapel to leave, muttering to her on the way out.

Spock craned his neck, peering behind McCoy. “Your nanoscope, Doctor?”

“What's wrong with you?” McCoy asked.

Spock stopped craning. “Pardon me?”

McCoy walked quickly to Spock's side and placed his hand on his forehead. Slightly warm, as usual. He looked into Spock's eyes and found his pupils dilated wide. The pulse in his throat was high.

“Doctor, what are you -?”

“You're off kilter.” McCoy slipped his medscanner out and began going over the readings. Pulse was high, temperature normal. Blood flow to his extremities was a bit low.

McCoy took Spock's hand and pressed his thumb into Spock's wrist. Spock gasped quietly. He wasn't fighting McCoy's medical attention, he must know something was wrong too. He must need help. McCoy found his pulse and compared the manual reading to the scanners results.

It was fine, slightly varied reading showed in the strengths of diastolic, but nothing to worry about. That may just be from McCoy taking the pulse at his wrist where the scanner took a body average.

“Doctor,” Spock breathed.

His temperature blinked orange. McCoy double checked that he was on Spock's settings. It hadn't been orange earlier, it had raised. “What the fuck?” McCoy muttered. It didn't make sense. He put the scanner down and dropped Spock's wrist, stalking back over to his desk.

Returning to face Spock he found him rubbing his own wrist, where McCoy's thumb had been pressed.

“C’mere,” McCoy ordered absentmindedly as he cleaned the thermometer he'd pulled from his desk drawer. He cleaned it after use, of course, but he always cleaned it beforehand anyway.

Spock staggered forward. Flushed skin, pupils wide, flakey pulse, and now a high temperature?

“How are you feeling?” McCoy asked.

“This is unnecessary,” Spock whispered. He stopped closer to McCoy then he usually would. Was his balance off? He had been walking weakly.

“Unless you're going to volunteer matters to me, it's completely necessary.”

McCoy held Spock's chin between his finger and thumb and eased his mouth open. “Lift your tongue.”

Spock did so, and McCoy slipped the thermometer in. Spock groaned, then winced and shut his eyes as McCoy gently closed his mouth around the thermometer.

Briefly, a theory presented itself. Based in drunken memories, hot nights shared at conference weekends or diplomatic missions away. The sound Spock made when undone, wrapped around McCoy and perfectly willing to express just how much more he wanted.

It wasn't something he and Spock did on the Enterprise. No, it was saved for shoreleaved where they happened to run into one another, or unexpected nights in hotels as the ship was repaired.

Never here, with no excuse, no separation. Hell, right now they were both on duty. It wouldn't be.

Unless it was-

No, even if Spock was, heaven forbid, turned on, the fact of that was a symptom not the cause.

But still a symptom worth testing. As they stood there, Spock's eyes closed, resting his weight in McCoy's hand, McCoy slid his thumb up slightly. He scratched the underside of Spock's lip. Spock’s eyes flew open at the contact, bright and alive.

McCoy hesitated, but he had good cause for his suspicion. So he pushed up and pressed his thumb to Spock's lower lip, dragging it down enough to catch a hint of teeth.

Nothing physical changed, but the energy shifted immediately. A rumble in the air and the heat from Spock's chest suddenly felt scorching. His eye contact lost that hesitant touch and McCoy felt like he was halfway to bring fucked already. The thermometer in Spock's mouth twitched and rolled.

McCoy took a deep breath. He let go of Spock's chin and removed the thermometer, checking the reading automatically. Same as the scanner, there was no instrument error.

He put the thermometer down next to them, not looking to move away from the gasping Vulcan.

“What's brought this on?” McCoy muttered.

“I-” Spock gasped. His mouth snapped with saliva. Lord, he looked desperate.

“Spock,” McCoy said quietly after Spock didn't continue to speak.

Spock groaned, an echo of his most intimate sounds, and swayed forward. McCoy caught his arms, repositioning himself to keep Spock standing.

Well, this was at least concerning enough that anyone looking in would assume a medical need.

“What's going on?”

“It is perfectly natural,” Spock said, his mouth my McCoy's ear, his breath hot.

“Pon farr?” McCoy guessed. The timing was off, but half Vulcan, who knew?

“Not so serious, merely an inconvenience.” Spock's chest heaved. “I apologise, it is unprofessional of me.

McCoy laughed despite himself. “Sure is,” he admitted. He swung Spock around so he was sitting on the edge of McCoy's desk. He leaned past him to get his med scanner but on the way Spock turned in towards him. Slightly too hot lips pressed against McCoy's neck in a simple kiss.

McCoy waited a moment, let Spock kiss him, then stood up straight. He began scanning, focusing instead on hormonal imbalance. If there was anything dangerous, anything spiking in an alarming way, he wanted to know. Horny was one thing, Pon farr was another.

McCoy did not meet Spock's eyes, but from his focused gaze on the scanner read outs he could see Spock's chest heaving.

“Is it need or want?” McCoy asked.

Spock took a deep breath. “I need to orgasm,” he said quietly. “I want you.”

He was barely reading the bloody scanner. And he was standing too close, Spock's knees pressed against the outside edge of his thighs. “Do you-” McCoy felt slightly breathless, just slightly dizzy. Fuck, he was meant to be working. He clamped down on his writhing gut, his eager hips.

“Ah, would anyone do?” McCoy asked. And, mercy, his voice had deepened. He wasn't just turned on, he was communicating it.

Spock didn't point it out, but his attention shifted. His eyes dragged heavily down McCoy's face, his throat, to his hands. “If you do not wish to have me,” Spock said, his voice dripping with honeyed meaning, “I would rather my own fist than any other.”

McCoy went to speak but his voice had dried up. He cleared his throat, then cleared his throat again. The sound snapped him out of it slightly, even if he had pressed his thighs against Spock's knees as he spoke. Fuck, he was used to Spock playing hard to get until they were near a bed. Or at least near some furniture to bend over. This eager man was quite different.

“Ah,” McCoy said wildly. He looked around his office, trying to find meaning in something he saw. A clock. Four-thirty. “I'm off in an hour and a half.”

Spock blinked, then leaned back. When had he leaned forward? It was hot. McCoy took a step away.

“I will meet you,” Spock said.

McCoy fixed his shirt and tried to smile at Spock. Spock stood, shakily, and met his gaze with customary dourness.

“You're sure it's natural, Spock?” he asked.

Spock nodded once. “It is lunar.”

“Right.”

McCoy looked at the instruments across his desk and ignored Spock as he left. Jesus, time to see how long ninety minutes can take.

#spones #spock #mccoy #star trek ficlet

[mooncurses]

To add to the current trend of calling out the bullshit that Zionists spout, here's a collection of not so fun facts for my friends outside of Italy.

Some of you may have heard of how Ghali, one of the most famous singers in Italy who is of Tunisian descent, has been criticized by Israel's Ambassador to Italy Alon Bar, who accused him of spreading hate just because he called for a ceasefire in Gaza. Then to remind us all of how much of a grip on the balls of our entire nation Isr*el has, a letter recounting the October 7 happenings was read on air to "balance" things out politically speaking (as our useless Deputy Premier and Foreign Minister stated, whatever the fuck that means). On his part Ghali responded with confusion and honesty, simply saying that as an artist he's always going to use his platform to talk about what he thinks is important, besides the fact that he's always been supportive of the Palestinian people since he was a kid (thus reiterating how their struggle has NOT started on October 7). In no part he ever invoked anything but peace, and yet he sparked controversy.

Of course what this episode merely sheds light on is the shameful and blatant climate of selfcensorship that has taken over the Italian mainstream media. It's not even an isolated accident: just days prior another contestant of the Sanremo festival, Dargen D'Amico, was attacked by the mainstream press after he dared take a minute after his exhibition to remind everyone that with our silence we are all complicit in the deaths of countless children right now. Sure enough he was forced to apologize "for getting political" the very day after.

To protest this cowardly and disgusting attitude that has become the standard in Italy, a peaceful sit-in was organized today in Naples in front of RAI (the public TV network that broadcast the Sanremo festival and that is funded with tax payers' money). After the protestants tried to hang a pro-Palestine banner on the fence of the building, police brutality quickly ensued and several people got hurt after being hit in the head with batons (you can find a video of the whole scene unfolding here).

So the thing here is that you can see how the top brass of our government desperately wants us all to just be complacent in the killing of Palestinians at hands of Isr*el. Much like what happened with the bombing of Rafah carefully made to overlap with the Super Bowl, the pro Isr*el Western governements very much hope that our silence can be bought with as little as good old panem et circaenses. And I've gotta say, at least in the case of Italy, it's almost like in doing so they forget how we young people were taught about genocide in the first place.

They drilled an acute awareness of what genocide looks like into each of our heads throughout our whole grade school life. We would hold our yearly minute of silence for the victims of the Holocaust on Remembrance Day without fail, we would read "Se Questo È Un Uomo" by Primo Levi as early as eight grade and analyze it thoroughly. We would study Hannah Arendt's philosophy while focusing especially on her ideas about the banality of evil that she witnessed during the Nuremberg Trials. Most high schools organized mandatory conferences with Holocaust survivors as speakers and visits at the local synagogue, as well as extra curricular activities (I'm talking weeks long train trips to Dachau and other concentration camps while accompanied by members of survivors associations and historians) to further spread awareness about the horror of the Holocaust and make sure that we would never let it happen again, that we would take a strong stance against it if the situation ever called for it.

And now we are living through the first genocide that's being documented live for the whole world to see and yet apparently nobody can say nothing about it. The countries that so far have taken a strong stance against Isr*el are so few it's absurd considering the enormous amount of damning evidence of war crimes, human trafficking, and ultimately ethnic cleansing that Isr*el is carrying out. It's even more absurd if you think of how casual the Isr*elis are about all of this, perfectly knowing that as long as they are backed by the world's largest powers they are basically untouchable. The banality of evil for real.

But here's the thing. Isr*el is just a country run by the military and made up of brainwashed ultranationalist colonialists, who think it is their birth right to kill every last Palestinian and mock their suffering because that's what they've been told confidently their whole lives. They think that the suffering their people lived in the past made them beyond moral reproach today, that their right to self-defense can spill over to offense and nobody will ever blame them, and they are so convinced of this that they will respond to actual accusations of genocide and war crimes simply by saying "that's antisemitic" and moving on.

Even just recalling the words of Holocaust survivors who spoke up about genocide has stopped clicking in the heads of many people because they see everything pertaining to the Jews as exceptional in its political, social, and historical dimensions, even when it's not. To better explain what I mean let me summarize another fun fact from very recent happenings in Italy. This last January 27, on Remembrance Day, several protests by young people of Palestinian descent and other supporters were held in various cities to condemn Isr*el's actions in Palestine, despite having been forbidden for "security reasons" after some complaints of the Jewish community called for the protest to be rescheduled. Some of the words that were written on the banners that the protestors held are quotes of Primo Levi, a writer and Holocaust survivor who passed in 1987. The aftermath of the protests was basically centered around Noemi Di Segni, the president of the Union of Italian Jewish Communities (UCEI), who said that the remembrance of Levi's words should be left to Jews, and then called for an end to the "verbal violence" against Jews that pro Palestine stances imply.

"Cease the fire of words against us is what we say to those who continue to accuse Israel of war crimes and genocide, with slogans based on nationality and faith, giving credence only to Hamas propaganda and giving new life to prejudices that we had hoped were extinct," Di Segni said. She also said that this kind of "Islamic suprematism" should look for quotes elsewhere, basically.

The funny thing here, however, is that the words that Levi originally spoke and that Di Segni and many other Zionists say have been "appropriated" by Palestinians were words that were never meant to be exclusively related to the Holocaust and the persecution of Jews specifically. All the contrary, they invite caution especially by reiterating that everyone needs to retain awareness of the horrors of genocide, because anyone (even Jews themselves in theory) could let such unspeakable things happen again if they let themselves forget. These are the words:

"Se comprendere è impossibile conoscere è necessario, perché ciò che è accaduto può ritornare, le coscienze possono nuovamente essere sedotte ed oscurate: anche le nostre". (trans: "If understanding is impossible then knowing is necessary, because what happened can come back, the consciences can again be seduced and obscured: even ours.")

This is important because to imply as Di Segni did that the Holocaust is a self contained episode in history, that words of warning against genocide in general can only be used in the context of a particular genocide that happened over 75 years ago, is the exact opposite of what survivors like Levi wanted the world to think.

The title Levi gave to what his English-language publishers called “Survival in Auschwitz” was “Se Questo È un Uomo” (“If This Is a Man”). The Nazis’ crime, he believed, was to treat the Jews as if they weren’t men—human beings. But the Jews’ suffering, he said, did not make them better people, or give them special rights. They had to observe the same moral standards as anyone else. Levi abhorred what we now call “exceptionalism.” This affected his views on Israel. He repeatedly condemned the Israelis’ treatment of the Palestinians. When, in 1982, the Israelis stood by as the Christian Phalangists massacred the Palestinians at Sabra and Shatila, he called for the resignation of Ariel Sharon and Menachem Begin. “Everybody is somebody’s Jew,” he told a reporter, Filippo Gentiloni, from the Italian newspaper Il Manifesto, and he cited the abuse of Poland by the Russians and the Germans. At that point in the interview, printed on June 29, 1982, Gentiloni closed the Levi quote and added a sentence of his own: “And today Palestinians are the Jews of the Israelis.”

Anyways, keep calling things as you see them. It may piss off some people, but it's the only way things can actually start to change in such a mud pool of empty politics and performative activism such as what we're witnessing in most Western countries.

#palestine #italy #sanremo #free palestine #anti israel #ceasefire

[justmeinadaze]

Do you know what I’m thinking about?

Boxer!Eddie and Boxer!Steve

Enemies to lovers oof.

A/N: A gift for you on this Friday. We're all just horny, thirsty bitches. Lol. Love ya!

Warning: SMUT (slightly rough with some dirty talk and choking), ANGST (they aren't fans of each other; Eddie mentions his rough upbringing) FLUFF (at the end if you squint)

Word Count: 1935

Steve hated everything about him. His long hair that flowed around his shoulders before pulling it back during a fight. His stupid, cocky smile when he was being interviewed by the press or during a conference when they took his picture. Steve hated his snarky attitude that made it seem like he could care less about the sport as a whole. He despised the way his shorts hung low enough to expose the V leading into the waistband. He thought those tattoos splattered across his well-toned chest were ridiculous. But the one that Steve hated most of all was the fact that Eddie Munson didn’t seem intimidated by him at all. 

Steve Harrington had been training to be a boxer since he left high school, finding a peace in the ring that he never found anywhere else. He worked hard to get where he was and this new up and comer just bursts onto the scene without a care in the world or even putting in the time. 

“Mr. Munson! Do you really think you will be the one to finally knock out Mr. Harrington here?”, a reporter asked making Eddie grin widely. 

“I mean, I haven’t been knocked out yet either so we’ll see.”

“Mr. Harrington! Thoughts?”

“I’ve been boxing now for over 5 years and worked hard. I’m not worried.”

“Are you implying I didn’t work hard, Stevie?”, Eddie teases.

“DON’T. Call me that. I’m not your fucking friend, Munson.”

“Ooo someone is grumpy this morning.”, he chuckles. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Harrington?”

“I woke up just fine. What side of the trailer did you wake up on?!”

The metalhead narrowed his eyes in his direction as his jaw tightened and he turned away. 

***

Steve’s leg bounced in his corner of the ring as he glared across the way at his opponent. Eddie seemed more jazzed up than usual, staring back at him with just as much anger and annoyance. The bell rung as both men stood and met each other in the middle.

They each got in some good hits, Steve underestimating Eddie’s strength as he hit the mat hard, spitting out blood before rising to his feet. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head, ringing in his ears. 

“Come on, son. You have to do better. You can’t just be lazy your entire life. I swear to God, you aren’t trying as hard as you should be.”

Steve swung his arm but Eddie swiftly blocked it and delivered his final blow, knocking the boy to the mat again. As the ref began counting down, Steve stared out into the audience as the images blurred around him and he passed out.

***

“You should go home, ya know, before I leave you here again in the dark.”, Eddie taunted as he walked through the arena to head for his car, stopping when he found Steve sitting cross legged in the middle of the ring. “Everyone else is already gone.”

“Good so get the fuck out of here so I can be alone.”

“Jesus Christ. You have an attitude problem.”, the long-haired boy scoffs as he starts for the door. 

“I have an attitude problem?! No, Munson, you’re the one with the problem!”, he shouted giving the other man pause. 

“Oh yeah? How so, pretty boy?”

“I have worked every day for this! I put in the time and training and you show up out of nowhere with your blasé attitude like boxing is the easiest fucking thing in world!”

“I didn’t work hard?”, he countered as he threw his gear to the ground and climbed up into the ring to face him. “I didn’t train and do anything possible to get here?! Oh no. How could I? Eddie Munson is just some trailer trash idiot who couldn’t be on the same level as Steve fucking Harrington. What would make you approve of me, huh? Maybe if I trained with equipment like Ivan Drago I could come close, huh, Stevie?”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“Or what?”

Steve takes a swing at him but Eddie swiftly moves out of the way, grabbing his arm and tossing him towards the ropes. 

“You know, I can’t believe I actually fucking looked up to you.” The metalhead takes off his jacket and tosses it away as the other boy does the same. “When I was growing up, I was a huge wrestling fan. More than anything I studied the moves so when my drunk father came at me I could defend myself.”

Steve charged towards him and once again Eddie threw him to the floor. 

“When I finally had enough money to find a gym and train, rumors about thee Steve Harrington flew all around the boxing circuit. I thought ‘Maybe one day I can be as good as him.’ Now I know…I’m better.”, he smirks and allows the other boy to actually tackle him to the mat.

They wrestle on the floor for a bit before Eddie gets the upper hand and locks Steve between his legs.

“See, I think your problem is you over think everything. It’s all numbers and stats for you. That’s why you hate me, isn’t it. Because I don’t give a shit about any of that. I just want to do good and have fun. Do you have fun anymore, Stevie?”

Elbowing him in the side, Steve flips Eddie over onto his back and straddles his waist as he pins his wrists to the floor.

“Oh…”, Eddie coos softly as he rolls his hips upwards, grazing the bulge between Steve’s legs. “I see. You need to be in control to have fun don’t you, big boy? You need to be the best at everything or else you’re a failure is that it?”

Steve exhales heavily, releasing the man from his hold with the intention of standing up and walking way but Eddie quickly grabs his face and roughly brings it down to hover over his own. 

“Don’t let your dad dictate how you live your life. I don’t.” 

With that he yanked Steve’s lips his own. Something lit up inside Steve he hadn’t felt in a long time, passion. When he pulled away, Eddie saw it reflecting in his eyes and smirked up at him, willing to play his game. 

Wrapping his arms around his waist, the long-haired boy wrestled him onto his back and kissed him again, sliding his tongue along his own as he continued to grind against him. 

Steve pushed Eddie’s chest, maneuvering him till he was underneath him once more and placed his palm around his throat lightly choking him as Eddie’s hands roamed underneath the man’s shirt. 

“Come on, Stevie, baby. Show me what you got.”

Growling, he pushed up onto his knees and unbuckled his belt, reaching into his pants to pull out his cock. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise at the man’s size causing Steve to flash him a smirk of his own. 

“I think it’s time I shut that mouth up for you.”

Leaning forward, he guided himself into the man’s awaiting mouth, groaning when he felt him choke around him. Eddie tried to continue to wrestle but Steve had the upper hand here, gripping his hair tightly in his fingers. 

“You can take my cock. Trust me. Your mouth is fucking big enough with all the attitude that comes out of it.” 

Eddie quickly kicked off his shoes and looped his legs around Steve’s chest, knocking him backward as he climbed on top of him, and lifted off his shirt. 

Steve mewled as Eddie’s lips sloppily kissed down his chest before enveloping him in his mouth again. The man’s own limbs circled around the metalhead’s waist but he didn’t try to pin him this time. More than anything, he just wants him closer. 

Eddie drooled and spit around him, taking him as far back into his throat as he could. He was genuinely surprised at how good the man beneath him tasted, half expecting his natural flavor to be as bland as Steve seemed. Maybe there was more to him he didn’t know. 

Hell, Steve misjudged him so badly, he may have very well done the same. 

Steve released Eddie from his hold and roughly lifted him by the chin to bring his lips to his. After yanking down his shorts, the long-haired boy straddled his waist again before reaching between them and slowly sliding his cock into his entrance. 

Their eyes scrunched close as Steve’s head fell forward onto his chest and Eddie responded by threading his fingers through his fluffy hair.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, Eddie purred as he pulled off his shirt, mewling when Steve’s lips kissed along his tattoos. 

Once he was fully seated on his lap, he leaned back a little to watch Eddie bounce on top of him. The long, wavy hair he had hated fell around the boy’s face blocking those intensely, beautiful chocolate eyes that he had glared into numerous times. Those stupid tattoos he hadn’t liked were now glistening with sweat and his spit as Steve ran his mouth along his upper body.

That sarcasm he hated was now muted by moans and pants as his cock hit Eddie’s spot repeatedly causing him to clench tighter around him. 

“Talk to me.”, Steve moaned. “I want to hear you.”

“Why?”, Eddie breathily chuckled. “I-I thought you hated my sass. We’re—shit—we’re not friends, right?”

Grabbing his neck, Steve flipped them around till Eddie was underneath him, grunting as he roughly thrust his cock deeper into him.

“T-Tell me why, Steve. Why do you need to hear how good you feel inside of me? Mmm—that no one has ever been this deep. Do you need to feel like you’re succeeding to get off?”

The man’s eyes met his before leaning down to place his head in the nook between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. His hips slam into his own till he hears the metalhead groan and cling to his hair as ropes of his seed hit his stomach. Steve follows close behind, panting loudly in his ear as he releases his spend inside of him. 

Falling to his side, both men breathe heavily as they try to catch their breath. As Eddie pulls up his shorts and reaches for his shirt, he winces slightly as his other arm wraps around his ribs. 

“They should have put ice on that.”, Steve responds casually as he grabs the boy’s shirt and hands it to him. “You’re also probably going to need to tape it up if your ribs are bruised.”

“I’m fine, Harrington, but thanks for the advice.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he huffs, rolling his eyes as he gets to his feet. “Still so fucking stubborn.”

Grabbing his shirt and his gear, Steve heads for the edge of the ring and throws his things to the floor. Allowing himself one more cursory glance, he watches Eddie struggle to put on his clothes before meeting him at the edge.

“Sit.”

“Huh?”

“Just sit! Please.”

Taken a back, Eddie does what he commands as Steve jumps down, carefully places his strong hands on the man’s sides, and guides him down beside him. 

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome. I need you 100% if we’re going to be in the ring together again for a rematch.”

As he starts to walk away, he pauses when he hears Eddie’s voice echo through arena. 

“Hey, Stevie! Did you mean the fight with gloves or without?”, the metalhead smirks as he waits for an answer. 

“Keep calling me that and you’ll find out soon enough.”

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #joseph quinn #fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #joe keery #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #eddie fanfic #steddie ask #eddie munson angst #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve and eddie #boxer!steve harrington #boxer!Eddie munson #boxing!steddie

[queen-mabs-revenge]

ok but the fact that sam's story line this episode was filmed before but aired after the whole gary lineker situation (i'm assuming) is such an indictment of the uk gov that their vile racism is so routine and ingrained that you can write stories about it down to the very detail and it plays out that eerily accurately.

but having said that, i'm really actually kind of appalled with the way sam's whole story was handled. the fact that it is a fucking to-the-letter accurate representation of the horrific political situation and the takeaway was... what? shit is wretched but anger will get you nowhere? forgive and move on in the face of actual violent injustice? sam's anger wasn't just lashing out, it was justified anger.

i appreciated the solidarity of the last scene, but i think with the stakes that they set up that story needed to be taken a lot more seriously within the larger story of the club -- keeley's storyline should have very involved in working ways to support and protect sam, there should have been a wider discussion about publicly supporting sam, the restaurant clean-up effort should have been a publicized response to condemn the violent policies sam was speaking out against and the violence and hate crimes it begets, and to show solidarity in fighting against it. that needed to be front and centre re: the ties that bind us, not just sam's side story with a feel-good coda.

like i think the dubai air story was handled better in the sense of the public facing aspect of it and the political weight of it. the fact that the consequences were knitted in with the club's story with the sponsor change, the entire team taking a public stance in solidarity, the press conference after. meanwhile this seemed very... hmmmmmmmmm yeah idk it didn't feel like it was given the weight that something sam's denouncements and the subsequent hate-fueled property damage really would have.

and esp bc we've since seen how an absolute institution like gary lineker was punished for similar criticisms, and how the solidaristic actions of other pundits refusing to go on air and publicly stating why was a huge deal as far as supporting that denouncement of state-sponsored racist violence. like the quiet response in the show feels really inadequate in light of that, you know?

it just felt like if they were gonna go there they needed to really commit to going there with all of the fall-out and club involvement it would entail, and they just didn't, which feels wishy-washy and frankly really dismissive. it was a writing choice to introduce this story and not actually deal with it with the weight it deserved.

really feels worse the more i think about it

#ted lasso spoilers #sam obisanya #ted lasso #like keeley is literally pr and she should have been involved heavily in this story line and it's actually weird that she's not #tbh i kind of feel like a lot of what sam's story could have been was sidelined bc they wanted to do the keeley/jack love bomb thing #which??? #feels really inconsequential as compared to the heavy political topics they decided to go into #and the idea of the show being about the ensemble cast and their interactions with each other #just feels like really disproportionate storytelling both from a plot and character standpoint considering the political stakes