#absolute fuckery but whatever

[eyes-of-nine]

sqx but it's that one quote from black sails

[honeyed-lemonade]

hands down I think the best writing choice of anthony’s in all of s2 was grant shooting terry (semi) consciously. soooo much more fucked up than willy just being willy. love you tony you sure know how to make a man mentally ill

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

why didn't anyone tell me that Hannibal is a comedy

[bugsbenefit]

okay i'll say it again. i'm personally not a very big fan of the theory that Alice Creel and Karen Wheeler are the same person from a personal perspective. However, looking at the show, i think at this point we should consider it as more of an option because aside from the multiple weird instances about it. i think the most notable is that it's one of the most solid explanations for what Nancy saw in her vision.

Vecna specifically threatening Karen, Holly, and Mike. leaving Ted out. is funny to us from an audience perspective because it allows for the assumption that Nancy just doesn't give enough of a shit about Ted for Vecna to use his death as something shocking.

but this makes very little sense in universe and with the way it was shot:

While Nancy is never shown to be close to Ted it's also clear she doesn't hate him. they're very ambivalent to each other, we rarely even see them in the same scenes. from a character perspective, jumping from this to Nancy not caring if something happened to him is very inconsistent character writing. most people would care if someone in their lives died even if they weren't personally very close. for Nancy to really not care if he died they would require a more negatively afflicted relationship. which they don't have.

the moment is also not played like a joke. the entirety of Nancy's vision serves as foreshadowing to the end of s4 and s5. it's all taken very seriously both by the characters and the audience. Nancy leaving Ted out of her vision is subtle and something we only talk about in hindsight because it's weird Vecna left only him out. causing jokes like "even Vecna says fuck Ted Wheeler" to spring up as an explanation. but the scene isn't shot like a joke and the exclusion of him falls flat. it was just subtle enough to be there and pass by ga's prime focus since no character drew attention to it, or asked afterwards "what about your dad?" "what about my dad?" which would have made it an actual joke and given pay off to this weird list. but none of this happens. Ted is just Missing from the vision and we're moving on. it's not played like something funny to notice, Nancy is crying and everyone is serious.

so. why IS Ted missing from the vision? summing up what we know:

it does not come across like a joke at all. without drawing attention to it the GA misses it, causing the joke to not work. and even more attentive audiences who pick up on it, recognize it's not really a funny haha joke. and while we can try and turn it into something jokey and say it's because Ted is stupid and nobody likes him, that explanation makes much less sense for the characters themselves. Nancy and Ted don't have a bad enough relationship as far as we're shown to justify Nancy suddenly not caring if he died. he's still a person she sees every day, even without a parental bond she would at least have an opinion on him dying.

so if this dialogue doesn't serve the purpose of character development/ exposition or comedy, why is it there?

well like the rest of the vision, it's part of the points that pretty straightforwardly tell us what will happen next season. s5 will have a creature with a gaping mouth, monsters all over Hawkins, and the Wheeler family minus Ted in danger.

Mike being in danger here makes sense since he's already hinted at being a central character in s5. both from a "return to s1" perspective, because of the "love triangle" plot and painting plot that include him, AND the fact that him and Will had a whole scene dedicated to planning Vecna's death as a conclusion to the season. Mike and his relationship with Will and the overall story are being highlighted so him subsequently being in danger because of that is a given. (there's also the whole argument to be made of Mike getting targeted Specifically because of Will as a bargaining tool) still, why Holly and Karen would have that same target on their back is a little bit more unclear as of now.

but the Real question is why Vecna doesn't include Ted when he already lists the whole Wheeler family by name. naming three people and then being too lazy for a fourth is... pointed. again i've made it clear i do believe Nancy would be sad if Ted died. there's also the opposite question to be raised: why does Vecna go to Nancy and show her Karen, Holly, and Mike specifically? there's other people Nancy is close to, arguably even closer with than with Mike for example since the two of them Also have a very minimal bond. Vecna showing her Jonathan dead, or any of the kids, Steve, even Robin by this point. it would hurt her just as bad. if not worse. because Nancy is Not a family oriented character. she doesn't value her family over her friends, the whole blood is thicker than water is bullshit to her and her characterization shows that, she's actively afraid of repeating the suburban nuclear family life her mother chose. Nancy is NOT more scared of her family dying than she is of her friends dying.

so this raises even More questions now as if the one we have isn't out there enough already. into the question pile it goes:

why does Vecna only show her her family and no one else when it would arguably be equally as shocking for her, if not more so in some cases? why is only Ted missing? and honestly why does Vecna even show Nancy the vision? (there were 7 people present so it was a 1/7 chance it would be her. why didn't he go for Steve standing right next to her? he had to pick one of them but given he had 7 options and seemingly no bias towards any of them we can question this choice.)

as of now we can't answer any of these questions, we'll need more insight from s5 to understand what Vecna is trying to get at here. however, this is where the theory comes back in because as of now it's one of the only things that actually Could explain it.

if Karen was actually Alice Creel and somehow survived that night. (there's a Lot to say about this but this i'll get into it on another post) it would mean Henry's attempt at familicide went even worse than originally thought. not only did his father survive but his sister would have lived as well and even gone on to have a family of her own after the fact. Victor tells us that he fears the "demon" will return, kill him for good, even Vecna himself tells Nancy he's interested in paying Victor a visit soon, so by that we can assume Henry is finishing his sloppy family murder that really only killed his mom next season. (and in all honesty, i don't see Victor surviving it, he's got death flags all over him)

but this presents a new possibility. Alice, now having children of her own, means that Henry's original family he wanted to kill is now extended by a nephew and two nieces he didn't have before. which raises the question: why wouldn't he want them dead too? Henry's murders were never about the people he Lived with, it was targeted at his family specifically - it was about the ideals he hated so much and what their superficially perfect happy nuclear family embodied despite being "bad people" on the inside, according to Henry's perception.

so when Henry finally goes back on what he announced to Nancy and kills his family for real next time, who would he classify as family? just Victor and Alice? or Alice's children who are his blood relatives as well?

because "Mom, and Holly... Mike" would be the exact list of Henry's living relatives according to this theory. minus of course Victor (locked in Pennhurst) and Nancy herself (the one receiving the threat).

and this would also finally give us an explanation of why Ted wasn't included in the vision. being a random well-earning man Karen married years ago he has no blood relation to the Creel family and therefore no significant role in a potential familicide. giving us the explanation that it's not Nancy who doesn't care about him dying but actually Vecna, since he would really just be a Random Guy to him.

this theory would all in all go to explain why:

the 1/7 chance of having the vision fell on Nancy.

Vecna then went out of his way to give her his whole tragic backstory in an immersive dia show instead of us seeing it through El's NINA memories

AND why Ted Wheeler is weirdly missing from the threats known family killer Henry Creel makes.

again, i'm personally not a die hard believer of this theory myself, but at this point there's a lot that would make infinitely more sense when placed with the backdrop of this theory. for this scene alone it's the only solid explanation as of now to really give us a reason as to what could be going on here. of course we're still missing the facts s5 will give us but with what we're working with right now? this theory is actually a lot less crack-y than i initially believed.

(ngl i was pretty anti this theory at first. again, not the biggest fan of the "and they're related" trope in general so it's not my full jam. but I have to consider it at this point because there's just so much in canon hinting at it. it'll either actually be what canon goes for or it's supposed to be a deliberate audience misguide and fakeout to leave people guessing for s5 because there's Too Much going on here. this scene is just the tip of the iceberg too, i'm genuinely amazed how much there actually is both in the show as well as narrative wise)

[happy10thousandyears]

Wait a second all my faves r trans women rn

[lukasagitta]

.

[the-kipsabian]

since tumblr wants me to celebrate five posts (lol) on this blog, hey go follow my side @underratedandoverit

i'll be posting stuff like fics, wip snippets, headcanons, etc. creative writing related things over there if youre interested 💜

(also yes the current obsession is heavily on penelope and will probably continue to be for some time lol)

[on-a-lucky-tide]

just thought of a very sleepy nik w his hair ruffled and he's so so so warm and soft and i just died .im gone . How does Price not lose his mind at that sight

Anon, I think he actually would. I think it would be a full blown case of Price.exe has stopped working, 404 Error, bluescreening fuckery.

I think it would happen the first time he used his leave to spend time with Nik. Until then, their relationship had been fully and inextricably tangled in their work; snatched affection between operations, maybe sharing a cot or sleeping bag in a tent, a bed in a grotty rundown hotel but they still have to be up at the arse crack of dawn so they never get that full morning experience.

When they become "official", Nik asks Price whether they can spend some time away and Price, who has never had a reason to take leave beyond injury, gingerly books it in. Feels like he's breaking the law somehow, and Major MacMillan just calls him a "feckin' twat" with that sheepish look on his face.

Nik flies them to a little chateau in the south of France that belongs to a... uh, friend. Price doesn't ask any questions. They arrive late at night, shower, and tumble into bed because it has been a seriously exhausting few months. Price wakes at 5.30am because his body clock is wired that way after so many years. He leaves Nik to sleep because he looked absolutely shagged the previous day; perhaps he'd been up for over 24 hours due to an op.

Price goes for a walk into the little village for some pastries and coffees, enjoys the scenery and plans a few longer hikes in those distant hills, and then wanders his way back.

He expects Nik to be awake and standing on in the kitchen, but he isn't, so Price arranges breakfast on a tray and carries it upstairs, feeling all chuffed with himself that he's doing something romantic.

He stops in the doorway, his shoulder butting into the doorframe as he takes a moment to drink in the sight before him.

Nik is still tucked up in bed, the white sheets pooled around his waist, an arm beneath the pillow that cradles his head like a giant marshmallow. He is the most peaceful Price has ever seen him, hair ruffled, big chest and shoulders rising and falling in an even rhythm, completely out of it. His lips are slightly parted, stubbled jaw with its masculine lines all snuggled down into the softness of the bed.

Price has seen many a sunset, a mountain range, rainforests with rare and colourful animals, flowers. He's seen all seven wonders of the world. None of those compare to the sight of the man he loves safe, snug and relaxed in all those blankets.

And he's... well, he's Price's, right?

Price sets the tray down and sits carefully on the edge of the bed. He strokes the hair out of Nik's face and it's enough to stir Nik from whatever sweet dreams he was enjoying. He blinks awake, groggy, briefly confused, but it soon melts into a sleepy smile. "Dobroye utro, John," he murmurs, deep voice all sleep rough. "You are... dressed."

"Went for a walk," Price says. "Got breakfast."

"Hmm." Nik stretches his long legs out, seizes in a full body flex, like a bear waking from hibernation. "I would like an appetiser."

"An appe--?"

Price doesn't get to finish. In fact, his question devolves into an undignified yelp because Nik strikes like a bleedin' KorTac specialist and drags Price back under the blankets, making quick work of burrowing him out of his clothes. Turns out Price is the appetiser and holidays make Nik horny as all hell. Who knew.

[witchofthesouls]

There's so many variations of "Things about Humans/Things Humans do that gross/creep out the Transformers". What would they find interesting about humans that we may not necessarily think much of? Hair is definitely up there I'd say.

That humans can't see their own stripes since they are only visible under ultraviolet light.

They're called Blaschko lines, and they're as unique as fingerprints. They can be visible with skin disorders.

Some people can figure out their pattern if they have a tendency to freckle from sunlight. Others claim they figured theirs out by following mole placement.

So Cybertronians would be absolutely fascinated by humans walking around with their markings and completely boggled that they can't see them. At one point, they thought flannel, zebra stripes, cheetah print, and other fun patterns were some sort of fashion statement along with their Blaschko lines. Cybertronians thought it was abstract art that delighted some and infuriated others because of incongruent matches.

Hair wouldn't be too strange to them as long, thin strands of wires were a fashion statement and a status symbol at some points. It's just that human 'fur' doesn't fulfill its primary function of warmth. It's the secondary functions that humans fuss over. Some hairstyles are absolutely wild to them, like the pouf style of Marie Antoinette's era with ships and bird cages with live specimens.

Cybertronians are rightfully concerned over humanity's collective urge to adopt dangerous fauna as pets or to keep in their household. Canines and felines are popular, but so are reptiles, arachnids, avians, and sea predators. Humans have no fangs, claws, or exoskeleton, but they feel compelled to take poisonous, venomous, and/or proficient hunters into their arms.

Humanity's history of agriculture and culinary explorations are multi-tiered mental fuckery mazes. It brought many mechs to tears trying to trace the impact of the cabbage family across the world. Fungi is another field that the less is delved into, the better their mental health. (Who!? Who the Pits came up with Hákarl!?)

What's really fascinating about human biology is just how resilient they can be. Sure, they can squish one with their foot, but humans manage to figure out how to survive without major organs with medical intervention, which is far more metal than some other organic species they deal with. What's really gross-curious is the extent, like how a bone graft will attempt to match the skeleton of its new host or how their resiliency can backfire with medical conditions, like autoimmune diseases and cancers. (Teratoma was a freaky thing to them. An unwanted extra mass that could grow teeth, bones, and hair within it!?)

Food intolerances confuse them. Especially since individuals with lactose intolerance have no fear of any culinary deity. Whatever sins committed is a wretched pact between that human and the toilet.

Another confusing aspect is the constant debate of a soul among humans. Popular arguments are the heart, stomach, and brain/mind. Meanwhile, the Cybertronian 'soul' isn't a philosophical debate. It's a physical reality with their spark.

[robiniswriting]

donna noble consulting at unit is hilarious to me considering she’s got the doctor living in the tardis in her backyard and he’s actively trying to temporarily retire from the whole “saving humanity from the current existential alien threat” business.

the doctor asking about how her day went and donna just staring him down trying to decide whether or not she should let on that there’s some kind of invasion happening.

the doctor and donna having staring contests where they both know that he wants to go do something about the problem but donna is absolutely not going to let him.

rose comes home after school to find the doctor and donna sitting on the couch opposite each other forcefully drinking tea and engaging in the most intense version of small talk that has ever existed because they both know that if donna relents he will absolutely get involved in whatever unit-fuckery is going down on any given day.

but he’s committed to living life the slow way round (for the most part at least) and donna’s his best friend so she’s gonna help him goddammit, even if it means forcing him to sit on sylvia’s floral-patterned couch while he’s mentally bouncing off the walls with the desire to be useful.

poor rose, shaun, sylvia, and wilf are forced to bear witness to this battle of wills for the next ten to fifteen years before donna’s point — which is that we can manage without you sometimes, you idiot, you’re not the center of the universe and things don’t necessarily always fall apart just because you weren’t directly involved — finally sinks in and the doctor manages to find some semblance of chill.

(donna absolutely never admits to him how many of those crises were averted by other versions of him. she doesn’t want his ego to reinflate. they’ve been doing so well getting it to go down.)

[blindmagdalena]

Do you think Homelander would inject V into a non-sup SO?

A part of me says absolutely, but another disputes this as I don't think Homelander would be willing to risk purposely potentially killing them.

At least if he loves them/the reader 🥴.

this is really situational to me. Homelander wouldn't feel compelled to risk it for no reason because there's a lot of weird fuckery V can do. he's seen firsthand the successes and—more importantly—the horrific failures of compound V injected in adults.

some powers are just... objectively useless. some cause deformities. some supes are just as frail as regular humans. some people just spasm, break all their bones and explode. V doesn't really guarantee anything spectacular, and whatever it does accomplish, they're still not going to measure up to someone like him.

that said, if they were maimed, sick, or put in some kind of terrible peril, and he came to the conclusion that V would "fix" them (and by extension, him) then... yeah, absolutely he would.

of course he wouldn't want to hurt/kill them, but he's also delusional. he really could convince himself that it'll be okay because he loves them, and because they love him.

"I know you won't leave me," he'd tell them before he did it, smiling tightly, heart racing. "You'll be okay. You stay with me, okay? Just stay with me. You promised you'd stay with me."

just rambling more to himself than anything as he pushes on the end of the syringe. hell, for the first time in a real long time, he might even pray.

[lunarose-moonflower]

reverse robins au but make it dead serious for ✨flavor✨

Dick is a relatively new addition to the family he's only been at the Manor for about a year and a half and his eldest brother is someone he only sees sporadically

From his baby child understanding his oldest brother, Damien, is mildly estranged due to both him and Bruce being too emotionally constipated to work out their issues so they're just awkward about it

He shows up on birthdays holidays and important stuff but he basically exclusively communicates with his brothers and Alfred almost ignoring Bruce at times and he absolutely never not even once mentioned anything about his personal life

So imagine everyone's surprise when one day Damian shows up at the Manor with a random guy they've never met holding a baby.

Apparently Damien has been able to completely avoid mentioning that he's been married for a couple of years to a random guy from Illinois's named Danny who's also apparently a ghost??

And the cherry on top is that they've had a baby (adoption ghost fuckery or trans!Danny pulling a seahorse whatever you want)

Dick will never understand his oldest brother but at least his new baby niece is cute

[zenkindoflove]

There is some real fuckery in this fandom when it comes to both sharing AI art and then weaponizing accusations of artists using AI just because people don't like their style or who they draw.

You are not “supporting artists" or rooting out AI generated fanart from this fandom - which we absolutely should do - by tearing down real artists who absolutely are not using AI.

I've seen it happen twice now. Recently, an artist on Instagram (jinart369) who makes lovely Gwynriel and Gwyn art is being attacked (and their husband who is a tattoo artist attacked) with claims they use AI when it's very, very clear they do not and they each individually have unique art styles. This one seems related to the ship war fandom wank.

A month or so ago, my good friend @works-of-heart, who is a talented Elucien artist, received similar harassment in the form of anon hate. Whatever campaign this anon was on reached others in our fandom who actually believed them. It was evident both in the amount of hate she was getting in her inbox and people telling her they were fans of hers but no longer because they "heard she used AI".

I've personally commissioned art from her, and it's actually laughable that anyone thinks she is using AI. The process I went through with her, which included very specific asks and references I provided and seeing several versions and various stages of the WIP process is not something someone could fake. The harassment got to the point she had to post evidence of her process, which she has pinned just so that people would stop sending her hate, which she really shouldn't have to do to prove herself. She also had to turn off anon because the harassment was so nasty. She showed me the messages, and I was appalled at how gross, personal, and vitriolic these anons were. It's clear they have a personal distaste for the artist rather than an educated understanding of what AI is capable of or how people use it.

We should trust our artists in this fandom. Witch hunts do not root out AI. There are ways to spot AI art when you educate yourself on what AI can and cannot do. We should be adamant about not uplifting those accounts that generate those kinds of images. But we also should not turn those accusations on real artists simply because we don't like their art style or the ship they draw. How do you prove you are NOT something? And I know personally even after @works-of-heart showed her evidence (and it looks like the same thing is now happening to this other artist after posting their proof) that the haters only move their goal posts of what they consider "evidence". As if they are any kind of authority on the subject.

Fuck AI. Support artists. And that also means believing them.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 2)

part 1 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Steve spends a lot of his spare time at the gym. Comes with the territory of modeling or whatever. Gotta keep himself strong, without developing bulging muscles. Gotta keep himself toned, without becoming too lean. Somewhat of a balancing act to this media fuckery circus.

Times are changing, yeah maybe. But not for puffy-lipped preps with killer bone structure. Steve still falls under the category of stereotypical Pretty Boy, and he’s chill with that. Fucking owns it.

Most days…

He’s currently cooling down on the treadmill - brisk walk, almost a jog. It’s a good pace for multitasking some adult shit that he needs to get done. Staying hydrated, keeping his photoshoot calendar up-to-date, answering a few emails. Yada yada.

Steve takes a swig of his seaweed (more like arsenic) smoothie. Opens the top email that reads:

The Fallen King - Final Commercial Cut

Right. Steve almost forgot about this particular shoot. Well, tried to repress the thoughts of that mega-douche director who kept referring to Steve’s ass as ‘prime real estate.’ Fucking creep.

He scrolls down to the attached file and slides his headphones back over his ears.

The ad opens with a wide shot of Steve draped over the throne, fog swelling around the bottom of the screen. The music is an eerie cello solo, set to a heavy bassline. 

Just another oversexualized cologne campaign, he thinks. Probably will barely feature the product because they paid big money for Steve’s body. Gotta get their fill of it (ha, they fucking wish Steve would fill them up).

But then the narration rolls into his ears and the room does a somersault. Practically inverts it’s axis at the sound dripping in Steve’s ears:

‘The mighty will fall from grace…’

“Oh shit.” Steve almost wipes out on the treadmill, has to catch his fall on the side bars. His knees are tingling, calves molten and shaky. Already half hard, which is definitely going to be a problem in these flimsy, mesh gym shorts.

‘Forbidden love and public slander…’

But that voice. That tone. That sinful register set in the minor key of Holy Fuck.

‘Will bring them to their knees.’

Alright, that fucking does it. Steve pauses the video before he’s fully tenting-out in a goddamn fitness center. Packs up his shit, chucks the sludge smoothie in the trash, and finds an empty stall. Emphatically locks it.

“Agh, damnit!” Steve's thumb slips over the screen and exits out of the video. It scrolls back to the top of the email - a new message has been added to the chain.

Seriously, what obnoxious fucker does ‘Reply All’ these days?

The new message reads:

Great work, team. (Sorry for being such a vocal slut.)

(… Not that sorry though.) - Eddie Munson

That’s right - the voice artist. Almost didn’t recognize the voice, but the repressed memory of that day comes flying to the surface when Steve sees the name. 

He recalls the guy being objectively cute too. Not in the California ‘sun-kissed skin’ kind of way. More in the Seattle ‘rain forces me to be a pale homebody’ kind of way. His eyes were something else though. They reminded Steve of the sepia tone filters he used in his early modeling portfolio. No way in hell Steve could ever forget knockout eyes like that.

The locker room is empty. Steve reopens the video, raises the volume high enough to mute out the thin hum from the air conditioning unit. Only wants to hear Eddie’s voice. That’s it. 

He’s already touching himself when the first phrase falls out of the headphones. Can’t even help it now that he’s alone. It’s all too good. Works himself up all stuffy and sensitive by the time the new part comes up:

‘Drenched in their guilt. Soaked in their shame.’

Fucking christ.

‘Choking on worthless confessions…’

Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Choking? Worthless? What is this, a sado hotline? Steve feels the heat spreading on his neck, flushed over in a non-exercise way. There’s a thump in his dick, has to squeeze his fingers around it. Like his body needs a reminder to calm the fuck down.

‘Until all that is left of them is desolate darkness.’

Pretty sure the raspy exhale after every phrase is going to do Steve in, saturate his last ounce of dignity with want. Eddie’s breathing is taking Steve’s breath away, and that’s an outright mindfuck. Earfuck. 

Something is getting fucked, and somehow, Steve still needs more.

While the song sustains, Steve strokes himself to the percussive rhythm. 

‘The Fallen King. The scent of secrets.’

The hiss on the last syllable fades into the music till everything fizzles out, going dead silent.

Well, everything goes silent except for Steve, who is utterly rattled. Can hear his dense breath and it’s way too noisy for a public space. The pulse in his neck is irregular, hitched the fuck up. His smartwatch is buzzing, alerting him that his heart rate is elevated, which duh. His whole body feels like it underwent some sexual awakening in the middle of a fitness center. 

And, sure. That’s a common place for people to realize how gay and desperate they are, but not like this. Not with zero visuals of sweaty bodies. 

Before he starts the video over to… finish the job, a phone call lights up his screen. Because of course it does.

He reads the name and swipes it open. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“I need coffee.” Robin whines, already pouting into the phone speaker no doubt. 

“You always need coffee.”

“Yeah but like… it tastes better when you buy me coffee.”

“Oh, so you want to mooch off of your own client?” Steve teases because he can. They can annoy the shit out of each other and write it off as endearment. “Pretty unprofessional of you, Ms. Manager.”

Robin groans. Makes it a long one too - probably to show off both her annoyance and lung capacity. “Fuck all the way off, you were my friend first. Always friends first.”

“Always friends first.” Steve agrees. She’s right, usually is about most things. Robin has been his manager since his last agency went bankrupt from pouring their funds into promoting Fyre Fest. And everyone knows that turned out to be an entire fuckshow.

Honestly, it’s easier this way - Robin being his manager. They get to hang out more, he has more input on gigs that he’s interested in…

Interested in. Huh. The metaphorical lightbulb flicks on in Steve’s voice-drunk brain. Having his best friend as his manager is also convenient when Steve needs the phone number of a certain co-worker.

“Alright, fine.” Steve has a sly grin on as he talks. “I’ll bring over some coffee.”

“Thank god.”

“If!”

“Ugh.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you can send me the cast and crew contact sheet from the Fallen King commercial.”

“Ew, why?” Robin asks, sounds totally repulsed. Valid, that shoot was Objectification Station.

But truly, Steve’s not in the mood to make up an excuse. He’s sore and sweaty and half-hard. So he just gets to the damn point. “Look, do you want coffee or not?”

“Okay okay.” That’s one way to speed up the process. Caffeine threats - works every time. “Dropping the file to you now.” 

“You’re the best.” Steve sings.

“I know, I know.” And the line clicks dead.

Okay. This is not a booty call, it’s not.

Steve is just texting a semi-stranger to tell him that his voice is potentially the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Okay, he’ll definitely phrase it better than that, maybe throw a few emojis in there to normalize the tone. Soften it up to sound very un-stalkery.

Yeah. Not a booty call. And if Eddie happens to send an audio message, and Steve happens to jerk off to it… still not a booty call, right?

Pathetic, maybe. But not basic, thank fuck.

He types, then re-types the message out way too many times before settling on this:

Steve: Great work on the commercial voiceover! Got ur number from the call sheet. hope that’s cool.

Steve hits send before realizing he didn’t have the goddamn common sense to introduce himself. He’s not even a rookie at hookups, why is he suddenly so frazzled by this guy?

“This is Steve by the way…” he mumbles into an audio message. Hits send, then quickly makes another:

“The… model guy.”

The model guy? What in the flustered hell is going on with him?

A chime notification goes off maybe two minutes after Steve sends the last message. Which is like… hot. Shameless fast texters are a millennial turn-on, for sure.

It’s a voice text, so Steve takes thirty seconds to calm down whatever involuntary throb just happened in his sweatpants. He sucks in some air and presses play:

“Pretty sure all the kids these days just send a ‘u up’ message to people they wanna dick down at midnight.”

Damn. Eddie’s voice sounds totally different, but just as sexy. Like amateur porn sexy. Is amateur audio porn a thing? It should be.

Steve quickly saves the audio file and types back.

Steve:  Ok pls don’t mention ��kids’ while I’m trying to flirt with u

Eddie: Waitwaitwait So we're definitely flirting right now? I actually interpreted that correctly?

Steve: Like u said It’s midnight So… *shrug emoji*

And a phone call comes through. Eddie’s contact name flashing in a harsh light, too blinding and too unexpected. Steve’s heart is hammering at his rib cage, suddenly so fucking nervous. He waits until the last ring to answer, buys himself some time cause god knows, he needs it.

Steve takes a breath and swallows. “He-”

“Okay, so you do realize this is the sewer rat voice actor guy from the commercial shoot, right?” Eddie interrupts, sounds out of breath. “And not like… a fellow model or Timothee Chalamet’s cousin or something?”

That earns a hearty laugh and eye-roll from Steve. “He is so not my type.”

“Thought he was everyone’s type.”

“Nah.” Steve rolls onto his belly, very giddy and disarmed by the ease of the exchange. His nerves are set aside, replaced with his usual confidence. “More into sewer rat voice actor guys.”

“That… is some very specific criteria.” Eddie coughs or maybe it's just a dry laugh. He sounds pleased as hell, so laugh seems more likely. “Holy shit, I’m flirting with a model!”

“You’re cute." Steve should not be so charmed right now, but the impulsive honesty is really doing it for him. "Dorky, but cute.” 

Eddie mumbles something incoherent, then clears his throat. Speaks quieter this time. “So why’d you text?”

“So why’d you call?”

“Just, uh… needed confirmation that this is real life.”

Steve lets out a ‘hmm,’ thinks of a proper response to that. “If I was there, I could pinch you. Ya know... so you’d know it’s real.” Okay. Maybe not proper, but whatever. It’s late. His brain is half scrambled from hormones and exhaustion, cut him some slack.

“Would do a lot more than pinch you if you were actually here.” And sure, Eddie might have mumbled that, but Steve clearly heard it. He heard exactly what Eddie just suggested.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, we’re doing this?” Eddie whispers.

Steve turns onto his back again, lets his hand wander down. “If you’re into that. Like hearing your voice, Eddie.”

“Like hearing you say my name like that.” And Eddie sounds like he means it. His tone is smoothing over, the same way it did in the narration. “You sound so worked up already.”

Steve moans, chest falling hard enough that the phone slips. Has to reposition it to get all that good vocal seduction back in his ear.

“God, wish I could see what you look like right now.” Eddie exhales, getting that nice rasp that Steve likes so much. It’s sultry and rich. Breathless at just the right moments. “Bet you’re lying down, aren’t you? Phone wedged between your neck and ear cause your hands are too busy to hold it properly. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” Steve pushes past the waistband of his sweatpants, then his boxers.

Eddie hums. Growls. “The things I’d do to you like that. Lying down, looking so eager to please. Saw how good you are at taking direction that day of the shoot. Does that apply in the bedroom too, baby?”

“It… fuck.” Steve strokes himself slowly. Can barely get the words out cause it feels like he's chewing on Eddie's voice. Swallowing every syllable. “Yeah, it does.”

“See - that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That I don’t know what you’re into. How you like it.”

“Pretty open to… trying things.” Steve reassures, eyes closing to soak in every sensation. “Just keep talking.”

And thank all that is holy, Eddie does just that. He keeps talking. “Can’t stop thinking about that pretty neck of yours. How I’d kiss it, suck on it till your skin goes tender and soft under my lips. Till your head rolls back like it did in that video.”

Eddie's words are syrup. Heavy and tempting. “I’d let you rest it on my shoulder while I get my hands all over you. See what sweet spots drive you wild, get you to squirm for me.”

Steve's grip tightens, pumping at a pace that’s close to getting fucked. A pace that makes it easier to pretend that it’s Eddie’s hand wrapped around him, making his vision blurred and spotty - even with his eyes screwed shut.

“Eddie, you’re… oh my god.” Steve whines, knows it must be pretty fucking loud with the speaker smushed against his cheek. “You’re so good at this.”

Eddie shushes him, sounds like he’s snickering a bit. “I’d tease you like that until your thighs start to tremble. Until you beg me to go further. End the torture.”

“Fucking christ…please.” Guess Steve really is that good at taking direction. Or maybe he’s extra easy for guys that turn his brain into liquor. Too busy begging to know which one it might be. “Keep going.”

Eddie’s laugh is dark and rough. “Sounds nice hearing you beg like that. Like sin.”

Feels like sin too. 

Steve’s fingers are slicked nicely with precome. The friction of his palm is making everything warmer, better. And stirring all of those feelings up with Eddie’s voice? Fucking hell, Steve is close. He’s so damn- “Okay, okay. If we don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“I know.” Eddie purrs, sweetly mean. “Thought that was the point.”

“Cannot believe I'm about to say this, but maybe…” Steve has to dig his hand out from his boxers to complete the sentence. Knocks his head against the wall because his behavior is totally batshit right now. “Maybe I want to see you again first? Is that weird?”

His skin sort of tingles from going this long without finishing. Never solved the blue-balling issue back at the gym either, so Steve’s on the verge of climax insanity right now. Didn’t think he’d discover an edging kink at the ripe age of twenty-five, but eureka. Here it is.

“Not weird.” Eddie’s voice returns back to a calmer one. The one that doesn’t make Steve want to bend over and get fucked so hard that his organs shift around. “I mean, I’m weird, sure. But wanting to complete this in person is not weird. Very un-weird, in fact.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Yeah well… voice actor.” Eddie says, sort of deadpan. “You couldn’t see that, but I just did ‘razzle dazzle’ hands.”

Shit, Steve really likes this guy. He just used the phrase ‘razzle dazzle hands,’ and Steve is still horny for him. Wow.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Steve manages to say before overthinking it.

“Tomorrow-tomorrow, or like today-tomorrow?” Eddie asks. “Cause it’s past midnight.”

Right. Booty call time moves at an entirely different pace than normal time does. “Today-tomorrow. If you’re free.”

“Free as a dead composer’s anthology of music.” Eddie answers happily.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it because what? What does that even mean? Is that a yes or a no? Goddamnit, his head hurts. Too many questions, not enough orgasms.

“Most classical music is royalty-free.” Eddie clears his throat, sounds like he’s tapping on something. “… So yeah. I’m free.”

“Right.” Steve chuckles, hard to believe he’s unapologetically gushing. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“Great. See you today, Steve.” Eddie is still snorting at his own joke while the call ends.

They haven’t sorted out any of the details yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s happening. It’s real.

So real, that he wants an actual date with Eddie before steamy phone sex. He wants to make Eddie laugh before making him come. That's like... unheard of for Steve. Uncharted.

Damn.

Today-tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

[sleepymccoy]

Spones fake romance subplots that make me want to write normal star trek episode scripts (can you imagine?),

Spock is required to battle some alien thing, and spend the night beforehand alone under alien observation. He was injured so Kirk is desperate for McCoy to get access to him. Kirk finds out that spouses are the exception and insists that Spock and McCoy are married. They have to act married with absolutely no chance to set boundaries or communicate what they're doing beyond a hasty whisper

On some planet and they do something together that the culture accept as a proposal (walking through an archway, getting excited about the same xenobiology thing, whatev) and no matter what Spock and McCoy say the aliens believe they're newly engaged and insist on throwing a party in their honour. Kirk tells them to play along please, they're so excited and it's making things easier. Also it's hilarious.

They need to travel through alien space that requires all people in their space be married (cultural thing about single people being half a person, not able to hold a job). Spock and McCoy team up cos neither of them want to, but at least the Vulcan privacy customs will mean they don't have to PDA. Unfortunately, they keep having to attend diplomatic dinners and Kirk insists they at least compliment each other occasionally, ffs

The enterprise is in trouble for some fuckery and everyone is on their best behaviour. Spock and McCoy get caught fighting somewhere inappropriate within starfleet because they weren't paying attention to where they were walking. While getting a dressing down Spock knows the admiral telling them off is a romantic so he says that he and McCoy were kissing. McCoy, head in hands, cannot disagree or it'll make things worse. "Yep, we were making out." So they have to play a couple from then. Kirk loves it. He involves it in their trial defence.

Classic hiding from the cops on some planet behaviour and in order to give themselves an alibi for being found in a cupboard they make out. They then have to, individually in their interrogation cells, try and guess what romantic backstory the other would be spinning and do their best to match it. They do a terrible job

They go to a conference together and get cheaper tickets by applying for the travel as a pair. They put themselves down as colleagues on everything, but when they get to the cruise they're in the honeymoon suite and an attendant politely advises them to play along or they'll be bumped to the next ship. McCoy finds a way to deeply enjoy every moment until things actually get a little bit romantic and then he's super uncomfortable. Spock appears unaffected (he's very affected).

McCoy starts addressing Spock by Vulcan pet names to be a shit stirrer and some diplomat overhears it and deduces that they're secretly dating. Lots of the diplomat finding ways to leave the two of them alone, but Spock and McCoy are none the wiser and just enjoy a squabble. Ep ends with the diplomat winking at them as they all stare blankly, before being transported away

Similar, but post Katra some Vulcan assumes that Spock and McCoy were married and asks all these questions about it over dinner, but doesn't outright say it so everyone's just answering the weird questions as honestly as they can. Nothing they say makes it clear that they aren't dating until like the end of the dinner. McCoy loses his shit about it

Spock is required to mindmeld with McCoy for some plot reason, the aliens they're with think it's awesome and are like!! Can you do that on everyone!!! So cool! So Spock is like, "nope, only McCoy. Because... We're... Married?" And McCoy will always support Spock in a consent thing, and mind melds are v invasive for him, but even so. They're only on the planet for the first like fifteen min, the rest is them on the ship with McCoy making endless fun of Spock over it

Someone is hitting on McCoy but he's not keen. Lets her down easy by saying he's seeing someone. Spock wanders by as this convo is wrapping up and due to convoluted shit pretends he's the someone. McCoy is grateful, but very annoyed about how it all worked out really. But when they have a fight the lady shoots her shot again so McCoy gets like romantic about it to keep the story alive

Actually hell yeah, what's your favourite?

[anghraine]

It's true that minimal effort or qualifications in white men go a lot further than for most others, and is absolutely a significant issue worth engaging with. That said, I think the "mediocre white man" catchphrase is often a bit of a trap, because it's so easy for it to devolve into arguments or self-congratulations or anxiety about just how mediocre the man in question is.

IMO the question of mediocrity mostly matters when it comes to the much higher demands for qualifications or abilities or talents placed on everyone else and the smoothing of professional paths for less qualified white men. That absolutely does happen, but most of the time when I see the "mediocre white man" thing, it's about a white man who has done something morally abhorrent and not about some random guy undeservingly getting breaks in his profession.

And the thing is, if you're condemning a man for doing something horribly unethical, it doesn't matter whether or not he's actually good at writing or directing or music or speaking or inventing things or cooking or programming or lifting heavy objects or whatever. Some dreadful moral affront committed by this guy doesn't become somehow more acceptable if he's genuinely talented, nor worse if he's not. And bringing his supposed mediocrity in his profession or hobbies into the argument invites a separate and usually less important debate that dilutes the one about the guy's RL fuckery.

(This may sound like I'm just vagueblogging about Neil Gaiman, but it's not—I've seen it many times and this specific post was actually set off by seeing virtually identical discourse about a completely different, long-dead guy that had one valid criticism buried in a sea of irrelevant and IMO untrue tangents that did nothing to elevate the point worth talking about.)