#Jonathan Chow

[gooooose]

Just saw someone say that TMA is basically a mukbang with plot and im actually losing my mind

[camyfilms]

AT WORLD’S END 2007

Still thinkin' of running, Jack? Think you can outrun the world? You know the problem with being the last of anything, by and by there be none left at all.

[baeaisling]

“The Children of Huang Shi,” (2008) a fact-based war drama filmed in China starring Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Radha Mitchell, Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh.

Roger Spottiswoode’s feature tells the story of a British reporter (Rhys Meyers) in China during the country’s second invasion by Japan in 1937. He rescues 60 war orphans by leading them on a thousand-mile journey to a village near the end of China’s Great Wall with the help of a local political leader (Yun-Fat), an aristocrat (Yeoh) and the American nurse he falls in love with (Mitchell).

[olivierdemangeon]

CHASING THE DRAGON (2017) ★★★✮☆

[jolieeason]

Feburary 2024 TBR

NetGalley: Indie Authors/Publishers

[perfettamentechic]

22 settembre … ricordiamo …

22 settembre … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2020: Michael Gwisdek, attore e regista tedesco. (n. 1942) 2011: Jonathan Cecil, Jonathan Hugh Gascoyne-Cecil, è stato un attore, doppiatore e giornalista britannico. Amico di Dudley Moore e Alan Bennett. Cecil si è sposato due volte: con Vivien Sarah Frances Heilbron, da cui è divorziato pochi anni dopo, e con Anna Sharkey. (n. 1939) 2010: Eddie Fisher, cantante e attore statunitense. Cantante…

[thenerdsofcolor]

Hard NOC Life 309: Din is a Daddy

Keith and Britney return to discuss the finale of The Mandalorian and compare it to the other show that features Daddy Pedro Pascal, The Last of Us. They also discuss the week in controversial actors and why Coachella is too dusty for them. https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/traffic.libsyn.com/thenerdsofcolor/HNL309.mp3 Continue reading Untitled

[ataliagold]

Keep Me Afloat

For @astrangersummer week 8 prompt 'ocean waves.' Title from Passenger by Noah Kahan.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: G

W/C: 1723

Tags: post-Vecna, established Steddie, Steve is self-conscious about his scars, Eddie loves every part of him, minor angst, emotional hurt/comfort.

Summary: Standing in ankle-deep water watching his friends enjoy a summer beach day, Steve looks down at himself and hates what he sees.

___

“You ok?” Robin murmured to him, hand on the small of Steve’s back, on the one small spot of skin unmarred by the now mostly-healed grazes on his back.

“Mmm hmm,” Steve said through tight lips, arms curled over his stomach.

Robin looked at him, eyes falling to where his hands were folded against his sides, against the extensive scarring there. “The kids don’t care, you know,” she said quietly.

Steve scoffed, something bitter and sad. “Yeah. I do, though.”

Ahead of them, the kids were shrieking in chest-deep water, Mike yelling as Lucas dunked him under a wave, Dustin pointing and laughing until he received the same treatment, resurfacing with an angry splutter and splashing water at Lucas.

Max and El were on the shore, Max’s chair parked up on a flat bit of sand, El content to sit beside her and watch their friends’ antics.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle were wandering to the other end of the beach, scouting out the possibility of an ice-cream stand down there.

None of them were even looking at Steve, at the state of the ugly scars across his skin, but it didn’t matter.

Steve was aware enough of them for everyone.

Robin dragged her foot through ankle-deep water. “It’s warm,” she commented, tone light. “Do you want to go in?”

He did.

He’d love to swim out past the kids, let his feet lift off the sand, allow the water to carry him out deep until he could just float under the warm sun and not think about anything for a while.

But he didn’t think he could.

Even now, with the water gently pulling at his toes, sucking at the sand below his feet, his heart rate was picking up.

Try as he might, he couldn’t help but think back to Lover’s Lake, to freezing water rushing into his lungs, to the slimy grip on his ankle that had pulled him down to hell.

Swallowing thickly, he shook his head.

Robin nodded, small and sad. “Eddie’ll be here soon,” she said, trying to cheer him up.

Steve managed a small smile at that. Of course Eddie had overslept for their beach day, leading to a rehash of their plans when Dustin had rung Steve complaining that Eddie hadn’t picked him up as planned.

He was arriving now, though – Steve heard the whine of his van coming to a slammed halt in the parking lot even from where he was standing in the shallows.

Eddie tumbled out, towel in hand, and grinned when he caught sight of Steve, raising his hand in greeting.

Steve smiled softly, a wave of fondness rushing over him.

Robin shook her head, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling too. “Here’s your knight in shining armour.”

Eddie tore his shirt off on his way to the water, balling it up and tossing it at Max who responded by grabbing the towel in her lap and snapping it against his ass. Shrieking, Eddie swore, clutching his butt with one hand as he ran the rest of the way over the hot sand.

Eddie wore his scars unashamedly.

They were in full view for everyone to see – the skin on his sides and torso left puckered and twisted, tattoos warped and some unrecognizable where flesh had been stripped. They were worse than Steve’s – the bats had bitten deeper, had had far longer to chow down on him than they had Steve.

But Eddie bared himself easily, confidently, and Steve burned with jealousy.

He’d asked Eddie, once, on a particular night curled up together on the couch when Steve had been feeling small. How he did it, how he didn’t care if people stared, how he wasn’t so…self-conscious.

Eddie had looked down at him through heavy lashes, had brushed his fingertips over Steve’s t shirt above the scarring on his back. “People have always stared at me, Stevie,” he murmured eventually. “Because of my clothes, my hair, because I play D&D, because I’m too loud or too…weird, or because I’m the Devil, I’m a murderer, whatever it is people think…I’ve been stared at and looked down on my whole life, I learnt to stop giving a shit what other people thought a long time ago.”

Steve had tried, he really had. Tried to be more like Eddie, tried to not worry about what other people thought of his appearance. But truthfully…his appearance had always been important to him. He was supposed to be strong, fit, athletic…the King of Hawkins High, once.

Not this pale, gaunt, chewed up and spat-out version of himself.

Eddie reached him with a loud splash, showering cool droplets across Steve’s thighs and stomach. He shivered lightly.

“Sorry,” Eddie panted, “got here as quick as I could. That little shrimp complain much?” he gestured ahead to Dustin.

“Only the whole way here,” Robin replied. “You’re lucky Nance had room in her car for him too.”

Eddie turned his gaze to Steve, smile quickly fading, replaced by a frown. “Stevie, you ok?” he asked gently, squeezing his upper arm.

“I’m gonna go check on the girls,” Robin said, making a strategic exit back towards Max and El, leaving Eddie and Steve alone in the water lapping at their feet.

“Hey, what is it?” Eddie breathed, stepping closer, trying to catch Steve’s eye.

But Steve kept his gaze fixed on the tiny waves, watching them break and recede again. “I’m fine. Just…you know.” He gestured down at himself, then quickly folded his arms back across his stomach.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured, hands coming to rest on Steve’s arms, not pulling them away but just holding. “You’re with friends here, ok? No one minds, no one’s looking. Well, except me, because you’re my boyfriend and you’re hot as hell and I never want to not be looking at you, but…”

One side of Steve’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Here.” Eddie coaxed one of Steve’s hands into his own, tugged him gently towards deeper water. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

Steve followed him, because he’d follow Eddie anywhere.

He sucked in a breath as the water climbed higher, over the top of his waistband, up to his chest.

“Eds,” he said eventually, breath coming faster as the water approached his shoulders. “S’deep enough.”

Eddie stopped, turning to face him, hair falling wetly around his neck. Despite Steve’s half-hearted protest because what if someone saw, Eddie pulled Steve to him, hands resting under the water on his hips, cold thumbs rubbing circles across the scars there. Although he was nervous at being in the deeper water, Steve was a little relieved to be out here, where the water covered his scars completely.

“You’re beautiful,” Eddie whispered to him.

“Eds…” Steve started, looking away.

“No.” Eddie brought one hand to his chin, keeping Steve’s gaze on him. “You are. I know you don’t like your scars, shit, I don’t like my own either. But they’re a part of us now, ok? And you know what?”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, but Eddie waited, eyes wide and earnest until Steve muttered,

“What?”

“They mean we survived. We took everything that fucking place could throw at us, and we made it out, and those kids -” Eddie pointed across the water to the boys playing in the waves. “ – they’re alive because of you.”

“And you,” Steve murmured.

“Sure. And me. And I know it’s gonna take some time, Stevie, but please don’t think you need to hide around us. Your scars are part of you, and everyone here loves you.”

Steve took a shaky breath, hand grasping for Eddie’s under the water, holding it tight. “They’re so…they’re so ugly, Eds,” he whispered, looking down at himself.

“Steve,” Eddie said, with a ghost of a smile, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Scars and all, sweetheart, so please don’t say that.”

Steve floundered a little for something to say, feeling vulnerable under Eddie’s steady gaze.

“Do you think my scars are ugly?” Eddie tried.

Steve shook his head quickly. “No.” Because they weren’t, not to Steve. Eddie was badass, he’d gone through hell and been on death’s door for way too long and gone through a grueling recovery and Steve had kissed every one of his scars, he’d never dream of calling them ugly. They were Eddie.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

Eddie leaned in closer, forehead almost brushing against Steve’s. “When you see my scars, what do you think?”

“I think…I think they’re just…part of you, I love you, they don’t…they don’t matter to me,” Steve stammered, a wave of emotion rising up in his throat because he knew what Eddie was doing. “I don’t care how they look, and I love that you can be so confident about them, but I…I can’t do that. With my own. Not yet, anyway.”

Eddie’s brows knitted together. “Try, for me? Just for today. Try and see yourself how you see me.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I…I’ll try.”

Eddie’s smile was reward enough.

Later, Steve lay on the beach bracketed by Eddie and Robin, stretched out under the sun while the kids exhausted themselves in the waves. He’d still tense up whenever someone else walked past him on the sand, still automatically go to throw an arm across his stomach, but that was ok. It was a start, and just the fact that he was lying there with his shirt still off was progress.

Eddie squeezed his hand whenever he could, fed him with small smiles and soft glances, while Robin kept up a steady stream of chatter that helped distract him.

By the time an ice cream run had been completed, by the time Lucas had talked some other beach-goers into borrowing their volleyball net, Steve was feeling…ok. Not his old self, not by a long shot, but it was getting gradually easier to forget about his scars for a short time and just enjoy himself.

And when he leapt into the air to slap the ball back over the net to Lucas, when he turned to see Eddie’s hot and heavy gaze locked on him, Steve even managed a small smirk in his direction.

He’d get there, he thought. Day by day. And Eddie would be there with him every step of the way.

___

[dathen]

One of the weirdest arguments for why people who think Dracula fed on Jonathan are Wrong is that “no one ever thought this before 2022 and no interpretations included it” when there’s a little thing called The Hayes Code. Acting like something that Stoker had to self-censor about in a book published right after the Wilde trials is a 1000% completely neutral topic on par with “what color is Lucy’s hair” or something is just BEYOND baffling to me. Homoerotic subtext has been leeched out of and censored from adaptions of all kinds of stories for ages (where is my Frankenstein adaption that actually includes his intimacy with Henry); all that proves is society’s homophobia.

And then there’s the fact it simply isn’t true. The very first Dracula adaption/spin-off, Nosferatu, had the Count drink from the Jonathan stand-in several times. The scene implying that Dracula fed on Renfield, the 1931 stand-in for Jonathan, almost got censored by movie makers anxious about the homoerotic implications—but the creators pushed it through and refused to cut it. Michael Pink’s Dracula ballet with its incredible sequence of Jonathan struggling with Dracula before being bitten premiered in 1996, just a couple years after the notorious Coppola film that reinforced so much of modern mainstream perception of the story. Freaking Moffat even used it in 2020. This is not an interpretation invented wholesale by Dracula Daily readers on Tumblr Dot Com in 2022.

But on top of that, haven’t we been ranting about how inaccurate and heteronormative adaptions have been this whole time?? How Jonathan’s story in particular is almost never treated with any care or caution, whether by cinema or by academics trying to make him the boring cardboard stand-in for everything wrong with the Victorian era? These are the same adaptions and readings saying that Lucy is a slut who was asking for it and that Mina is in love with Dracula; putting these obscenely heteronormative readings on a pedestal to say “THEY didn’t think Dracula fed on anyone but women, why should we??” is honest to god making my brain dissolve.

I don’t care if anyone personally has a different theory. If you feel that after “tonight is mine!” Dracula changed his mind last-minute and decided to chow on some random worker nailing the boxes shut, knock yourself out. But this weird backlash against the reading and the insistence it’s wrong because it’s not explicit enough on the page isn’t just baffling, it’s downright ignorant.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Soooo you cut us off right at the good part 😭😭 so if you are feeling up to it, how would angel Stevie help her. What would he say? I feel like he is such a smooth sweet talker 😭🥺😭 ALSO we can’t forget about our devil Eddie. What would he be doing? Would be continue to mock her for having to have her angel get her off? How she is corrupting Stevie(even though we all know that’s not the case) but I mean he is the devil so I feel like he would be a bit of a dick 🤔🤔

What do you think 🤔💋💋💋

A/N: PLEASE I just chowed down some chocolate and immediately wrote this continuation

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

“Just block him out, baby,” Steve’s eyes bore into your very soul as his fingers deftly swirled your little pearl, “yeah, that’s it, there you go,” he let his other hand drop from the sweet hold he had on the side of your face, down to where your tits rippled like waves from every clumsy thrust your friend enforced from behind you, “it’s just us, yeah?” you felt him just lightly caress one of your nipples, tickling your sensitive bud before capturing it between his fingers, “just this right here…” 

Silencing your whimper with his lips, Steve didn’t stay there long, dancing his gentle kisses over your jaw and along your neck. Eyes fluttering and with the angel no longer obscuring your view, you caught sight of Eddie still sitting on the desk, although now he wasn’t just watching you like a hawk, he was doing something very different.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, blinking as he brazenly jerked his angry cock, the flushed length rippled with veins so pronounced that you could almost see his pulse from here. 

“Yeah, you like that?” Jonathan mistook your words. 

Your eyes travelled up the demon’s body and locked with his impossibly dark ones, from here it almost looked like his pupils blacked out everything else, making his chocolaty gaze but a memory of yesteryear, “yes, please don’t stop.”

Detaching his lips from the lavender mark he swiftly blooming on your neck, Steve whipped his head around and scowled, “seriously, Munson? Can you not make it about you for like two seconds?” 

“What?” he nearly laughed, not slowing his movements for one second, “she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” and after offering him a shy nod of complete confirmation, Eddie continued, “see, I’m just doing my part, same as you. Now don’t start slacking, man. Make her feel good while I give her a show.”

Huffing out a small chuckle, the angel kneeling before you pressed down harder on your puffy clit, causing your eyebrows to curl up as you let out a moan much more authentic than any of the faked ones you’d let your friend hear all night. 

“Yeah, there it is,” Eddie groaned, tightening his ringed fingers around his lavish girth, “keep sounding like that and you’ll have me drowning out buddy boy’s pathetic moans for you real soon.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[brentchua]

willy chavarria s/s 2025, show, p1

america

featuring from top to bottom JOEL SILVA, THOMAS ALLEN @ platformme, JUANA BURGA @ caa, LARA MENEZES @ next, EION OSBORNE @ dna, SAMIR @ next, IDRIYS CHOW @ no smoking, NIGEL SYLVESTER @ img, ERIK CHACHI MARTINEZ @ next, KAI ISAIAH JAMAL @ the society, JOEY BADA$$, VALERIA GOMEZ @ muse, MEHDI ABOUZAID @ next, ALAATO JAZYPER @ women, XU MEEN @ img, PALAOMA ELSESSER @ img, MAHMOOD, JONATHAN GONZALES @ next, DELFIN FINLEY @ next, DARA, LUTHANDO NGEMA @ next, and ANARCIUS JEAN @ img.

creative director WILLY CHAVARRIA

art director JESS CUEVAS

stylist CARLOS NAZARIO

hair JOEY GEORGE

make up KUMA

casting BRENT CHUA

pr PURPLE PR

for full story please visit:

vogue runway

models.com

[hitchell-mope]

Nancy: I’m a good cook. Jonathan. Tell them I’m a good cook.

Jonathan (chowing down on cookies that Nancy lovingly tried to bake but accidentally ended up cremating): the best.

Jane: he’s really committed to this isn’t he?

Mike: oh yeah.

Jane: I wish I could cook.

Mike: ah don’t worry. We can learn together.

Jane: waffles first?

Mike: of course.

Jane: YES!

[jolieeason]

February 2023 TBR

January has flown by for me (I don’t know about you guys). Indie Authors/Publishers From Author From Author From Novel Cause From Novel Cause From Author NetGalley Reading Challenges:

[mymariahcarey]

The Incident

I've been rewatching Schitt's Creek and had the idea to rewrite some of the more iconic moments with Steddie and other characters from Stranger Things. Maybe I'll make it into a series, anyway... here's The Incident.

Steve was a bedwetter as a kid, much to his father’s displeasure. John Harrington had initially taken out his frustration on Steve’s mother, blaming her for not being thorough enough when she’d been potty training Steve. 

By the time Steve was 7 and still occasionally wetting the bed, mostly on nights when his father’s voice raised louder than normal at the dinner table or after they’d announced they’d be going out of town for a week and Steve’s paternal grandmother would be coming to stay, his father lost all patience. 

“You’re not a baby Stephen. Clean this up and don’t discuss this with anyone! No one wants to be friends with a bedwetter. Think of your poor mother, how do you think she would feel if ladies in her book club found out about this? Susan Harrington can’t even potty train her son right or maybe they’ll just think we’ve been cursed with a child too dim to get up during the night to use the bathroom.” 

After that particular conversation Steve isn’t allowed any liquids after dinner time as long as his parents are in town.

Steve does eventually grow out of it, he goes years without a single incident until he finds Jonathan Byers in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom. 

He’s so upset he drinks way too many cans of Schlitz and falls into bed.

When he wakes up to his bed being uncomfortably wet he knows instantly what’s happened. He wants to cry but he doesn’t, he simply strips his bed and pads downstairs to the laundry room as quickly and quietly as possible. His mother catches him switching the bedding over to the dryer when she comes down to start cooking breakfast for his father.

She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him and sighs heavily. He silently pleads that she keeps this to herself, he can’t imagine what his father would think, what he would do. His father has spent the last few years becoming even more disinterested in Steve. When he’d shown athletic talent he’d hoped his father would care, would see Steve was good for something. Apparently swimming and baseball just weren’t impressive enough for John Harrington. Not even when Steve was crowned co-captain of the swim team and won second place in butterfly at the state championship.

It was such an awful start to an already awful day that when Tommy comes up with the idea of defacing the movie theater and shaming Nancy Wheeler publicly for all to see, Steve doesn’t even think about it. He doesn’t even consider talking to Nancy first, getting her side of the story. He’d not been enough for her, he’s not enough for his parents, he’s a 17 year old that wets the bed, who could possibly love him? Of course she’d rather be with Jonathan fucking Byers. 

His nighttime incidents return after he sinks a nail studded baseball bat into a teethey tulip faced giant everyone calls a demogorgon. They come with a vengeance after the demodogs almost chow down on him and these kids that now follow him around like little ducklings. 

His parents are home even less now that he’s 18, but he still has a meltdown every single time it happens. He immediately washes everything to hide his shame and falls asleep on the cold tile floor of the laundry room, bright overhead lights on, on more than one occasion. 

It isn’t until after the Russians and after truth serum confessions on a bathroom floor that anyone learns of his little secret. He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t entertain the idea of turning Robin away when she shows up two nights after, tear tracks still evident on her face and Steve’s still foggy brain goes instantly into nurturing mode, pulling Robin inside and upstairs to his room. 

When he wakes up the following morning and finds, to his horror, that he’s wet the bed with Robin sleeping beside him he tries his best to lay a towel over most of it and scoot Robin away without waking her up. 

She of course flails awake as soon as he touches her, her long limbs causing her to smack Steve in the face as she turns over. It doesn’t even phase him, he just gently pulls her out of bed now that she’s awake and yanks the bedding off in one pull, the mattress sliding halfway off the frame from the force of it. 

“Steve– what? Are you okay, what’s happening?” Her voice is still thick with sleep and her eyes still puffy from crying last night.

He doesn’t answer, just takes off down the stairs to the laundry room, Robin trailing quickly after him. He can feel her waiting in the doorway to the laundry room as he shuts the lid on the washer. 

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to come over anymore. I swear I’m not— this just happens sometimes. If I– if something is bothering me or if I have a particularly violent dream or… sometimes when my parents call to tell me they’re coming home? I’m really sorry, I should have made you sleep in the guest room I just wanted to help–“

“Steve, Steve, it’s okay!”

“No, it’s really not. It’s so gross Robin, I’m so embarrassed… how is anyone going to– it’s no wonder my parents… Nancy’s better off,” he says, his words growing more frantic by the second. “My parents took me to so many doctors as a kid and they never could figure out what was wrong with me but there’s just something so wrong.” 

He feels Rob’s hands on his shoulders and she turns him around and wraps him in her arms, “there’s nothing wrong with you dingus.”

Two weeks later Robin shows up at this house with a stack of books from the library. She reads him sections of books about how bedwetting in children and adults can be triggered by shame, fear, stress, and PTSD. 

Steve starts meditating, talking to Robin, and saving what money he can to eventually move out of his parent’s house. These things help and his incidents become few and far between. 

Until Spring Break. Until Vecna. 

They really very nearly don’t survive this round with the upside down. When he closes his eyes at night he sees Eddie dead, Dustin’s hands and clothes drench in Eddie’s blood. He sees Robin and Nancy lifeless, held by vines against the walls of the Creel House. He dreams he’s the only one that made it, that he’s alone again. Alone forever. 

No amount of meditation, of numbing his brain with weed, of exercising so much his body has no option but to shut down, is enough to stop the nightmares, the accidents. He doesn’t have them every night, but he has them enough he refuses to let Robin stay in his bed anymore.

He knows now it’s not his fault, it's the wiring in his brain, his father’s cruel words when he was a child, the fact everyone he loves nearly died… the fact he’s in love with Eddie Munson but can’t tell him, not when he sees Eddie’s dying bleeding body every time he goes to bed. 

He knows Robin accepting him, this thing about him, is rare. It’s because they’re soulmates, because she’s the other half of his brain. He can’t allow someone close enough to see this, he wouldn’t survive it if Eddie–

However, Eddie is Eddie. Eddie who wormed his way right into the party’s hearts and right into Steve’s life and he relents, he allows himself to date, to love.

It’s wonderful, Eddie is wonderful. He loves being with him, cuddling with him, touching him, kissing him, loving him. 

But, he never stays the night at Munson’s new place and when Eddie stay’s over at Steve’s, Steve makes him sleep in the guest room. He knows Eddie’s confused, that it makes him sad because they both love being wrapped around each other, not knowing where one stops and the other begins but he can’t. 

He just has to wait until this passes, until the nightmares slow and he can get his brain and heart back in control. 

He doesn’t get to wait though, because he falls asleep at Eddie’s one night by accident. They’d had a brilliant date (trip to an out of town music store, picnic in a park, quickie in the back seat of the beemer) and had continued their date once in the safety of Eddie’s room, in Eddie’s new bed.

Steve hadn’t slept well the night before and Eddie fucking him not once, but twice, had melted his bones and his brain and he’d fallen asleep. 

“Something spilled,” Eddie murmurs the following morning as he wakes, rousing Steve from his sleep.

“What?”

“Steve something spilled in the bed,” he says again.

Steve’s immediately awake, unable to move, too scared to breath. 

“Stevie, are you okay? Are you bleeding?!” Eddie asks, a tinge of panic to his voice as he moved to rip the covers off the both of them. 

“Eddie stop! No it’s not—“

“Is it you? What happened?!”

“Nothing! It’s nothing,” Steve answers sharply.

“Oh my god Stevie… did you wet the bed?” Eddie says, a soft grin spreading across his face.

Steve looks away, slips out from under the covers and grabs his clothes and shoes, “I have to go… I promised Robin I’d… drive her to work.” He said, pulling on his jeans and stuffing his feet in his shoes. 

“Stevie, Robin doesn’t work today. We’re hanging out later remember? It’s okay babe, just… let me change the sheets and we can go back to—“

“No, no… I should– let me take them home, I’ll clean them. I'm so sorry Eddie, I can have Robin bring them back once they’re out of the dryer.”

“Steve why would you– why would Robin bring them back? Wait? Please just stop for a second sweetheart,”

Eddie says, stumbling as his foot gets tangled in the blanket as he moves to stop Steve from opening the bedroom door.

Steve still can’t make eye contact with Eddie. He can’t bear to see the disgust, the disappointment. 

“Stevie, baby, look at me,” Eddie says softly, fingers touching Steve’s chin but not forcing him to look up. He looks up anyway.

Eddie’s eyes are soft, they even look understanding. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s disgust—“

“It’s not a big deal babe. You think a little bedwetting is enough to scare me away? Do you remember what my mattress at the trailer looked like? The amount of times I’ve spilt bong water man?”

“That-that’s different.”

“Not to me. We can fix it. Sheets can be washed, mattresses can be like, protected right? We can get a cover for it.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want you to feel comfortable enough to sleep with me, to stay here with me Stevie.”

“You… want that? Even after all this?”

Eddie steps forward, into Steve’s space, his warm hands moving to hold Steve’s face between his palms. “Steve Harrington, I’m in love with you. I want to sleep in a bed with you every night for as long as you’ll have me… even if you try to turn it into a waterbed occasionally.”

Steve lets out a wet laugh, lets a few tears roll down his cheeks, but they don’t make it far before Eddie swipes them away with his calloused thumbs. “O–okay, if you’re… sure. I– I want that too Eds.”

[thenerdsofcolor]

Hard NOC Life 305: Put Some Respeq on Kelleran Beq

Keith and Britney break down the latest episode of The Mandalorian and the return of Ahmed Best to the Star Wars universe. They also discuss the twin controversies surrounding Marvel Studios currently. Yikes! https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/traffic.libsyn.com/thenerdsofcolor/HNL305.mp3 (more…) “”

[snappysprinkledog]

So I just watched Renfield (2023)

Honestly for what was very much a comedy gore fest horror, some very strong emotional messages in there

Spoilers under the cut of what i remember

. There is a gang called the lobos, they wear wolf masks, the lobos end up working for dracula lmao

. Quincy Morris exists in this universe, or 'Morris Quincy'

. Quincy Morris is unfortunately a cop in this universe

. Quincy Morris is very dead in this universe, the story in part follows his daughter

. Rebecca Quincy is unfortunately also a cop

. Renfield is literally one of the most prolific serial killers

. Renfield goes to a self help group for those in co- dependant relationships because he kills their toxic partner to feed to dracula

. Honestly for a buckwild gore comedy movie that was just kinda insane, weirdly passionate underlying theme and message about escaping toxic relationships?

. They chop up dracula, blend him, and put the blended body bits into little concrete cubes made with ice cube molds

. Renfield gives himself a soft boy makeover

. As well as the toxic relationship, also kinda passionate message about acknowledging your own issues and where you've been toxic?

. They kinda mash renfield and Jonathan a bit together but ngl, it was fun

. Renfield is chowing down on bugs like his life depends on it

. Tbh his life does depend on it, he is literally disembowled twice

. They have a jug of dracula blood at the end which they use to resurrect people

. Many people get beheaded

. Renfield accidently persuades dracula to try world domination

. Tumblr exists in this universe, it gets a mention, it helps them beat dracula because the incantation they need is on a Wiccan Tumblr blog

. MCR is blasted over a montage sequence

. Renfield has a crush on Rebecca Quincy