odileblr

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[a-spacecadet]

✨ Morning Routine ✨

-

The girls also had a sleepover and also woke up ✨beautiful✨ ✨flawless✨ and ✨gorgeous✨

Companion piece to my other drawing of the boys~

[souvenir116]

he's so 😮‍💨

[crunchchute]

an assortment

[sebfreak]

JUMP MV /『ハイキュー!!』×『オレンジ』| SPYAIR

[sad-trekkie-life]

Me: I love all of the TOS trio individually.

Me: How can I have a fave, when they are all equally amazing.

Me: They can’t be separated.

My Star Trek Pinterest board:

50 pins of Kirk, 50 pins of Spock, 165 pins of Leonard McCoy.

[pasdetrois]

like eve before you

George Frederic Watts, Eve Tempted (detail) • Vievee Francis, "Apologia" • Edmund Blair Leighton, The Keys (detail) • Maria Tatar, Secrets Beyond the Door: The Story of Bluebeard and His Wives • Angela Carter, "The Bloody Chamber" • Heinrich Aldegrever, Adam and Eve • Gustave Doré, Illustration for "Blue Beard" • Paul Dukas, Ariane et Barbe-bleue • Glen Duncan, I, Lucifer • Hans Baldung Grien, Eve, Serpent and Death • Erika Steiskal, Illustration for "The Bloody Chamber"

[catd2014]

Tim in Funny Woman S2 E1

[weirdmageddon]

sorry for liking davejade in 2023 btw its in a cool way though

[raayllum]

the TDP x Egyptian mythology (post-s4) meta really does always come back to haunt me like??

CALLUM AS THOTH So why Callum as Thoth? Well, Thoth was the Egyptian god of scribes, magic, master of knowledge, and known as the Divine Author of All Books. This fits not only with Callum’s key characters being linked to his curiosity and cleverness, and the infamous “Destiny is a book you write yourself”. Last but not least, Thoth’s Egyptian name was Djehuty, which means “He who is like the Ibis.” He often provides counsel to others and indeed gambled with the Moon to earn the extra five days of the calendar.

RAYLA AS MA’AT Ma’at had a double meaning to the Egyptians, referring to both a goddess who personified many concepts, and the concepts of Truth, Justice, Morality, and Balance in addition to being Thoth's wife. However, the main reason I aligned Rayla with Ma’at is, along with her conceptual associations, Ma’at was involved in the Afterlife’s most important ceremony: the weighing the newly dead mortal’s heart against her Feather of Truth.

Thoth presenting the Key of Life to Osiris, a death god who was cut into many pieces

[powdermelonkeg]

...So. Gale. How exactly did you buy your tower?

[aspenous]

Korean Manwha has such a issue with same face/body syndrome when it comes to women it aint funny anymore 😭

[firefly-party]

so that's the brainrot everyone's talking about? 😩

[thehumanwiki]

I wonder what would happen if the Maestro from Doctor Who, who is music incarnate, knew about microtones. Like, if they saw this—

would they explode.

[galactic-rhea]

I'll admit that the reason why I have been doodling so much super silly things these last two days it's because i saw the most ungodly takes ever that made my eye twitch and it wasn't like just your classic ship war, it was just-

"did we watch the same thing? if so I volunterr for a comparative study between the both of us, I think researchers would find this fascinating"

Is not even a moral thing or anything, is just that I feel gasligthed because I can't see how you ended with that Conclusion(tm) and you keep explaining and I still can't see.

Is like looking at a solved math problem, and you can't just conprehend the steps, that's how it feels. And also I get a bit petty because-...idk, is a children show, is not that complex

Tbh, what makes me eye twitch is actually the,,,hmm,,,the way some people seem to be so unaware of how trauma works, I think. Because I'm quite invested in analizing trauma in fictional characters and Anakin's is like served on a silver tray, so it's baffling when I come across with people that have such a deep misunderstanding of how trauma can affect a brain cuz yeah, is fictional but you're meant to write the characters with logic.

But I'm derailing i don't even know what i'm writting anymore, but no worries, i'm mostly just baffled and confused sdfnkljgnkdjfg

[skyf0ckz]

Chris and Scott meeting at a show as requested by @russolaw !! Also a little extra moodboard and writing<3

♡

A spark landed on him. "Ow! Fuck-" Chris yelped, dropping his lighter and shaking his hand. He popped his cigarette out of his mouth with his free hand, letting out a puff of smoke. 

"You alright?"

He looked up and nearly jumped backward at the site of the blonde man now standing closer. He gulped, "Uh...yeah...just fine..." he stammered, licking his lips. 

The blonde tilted his head, and the sight made Chris want to squirm, "Are you sure?" He asked, voice rising ever so slightly in the most adorable way. 

Chris blinked dumbly, "Uh yeah, no, yeah..uh sorry I.." he stuttered, glancing away and smiling wide out of embarrassment. Oh God, what is he doing? He brought the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling. 

He glanced down and noticed how the man's hands were clasped together, twitching and fidgeting. The thought of raising them to his mouth and kissing them passed through his brain, and he blushed. 

"Uh..did you watch the show?" Chris asked, exhaling a huff of smoke to the side of him. 

The man raised his eyebrows, before resting them and smiling softly, "I did, yeah," he dug one hand in his jacket, and pulled out a rolled-up playbill. He unraveled it and held it in front of him like it was proof he watched it. 

Chris couldn't help but smile, "Yeah? Did you...like it?" He asked slowly, bringing his cigarette up to his lips. 

For some reason, his opinion meant a lot to Chris. He knew it was a bit pathetic, especially considering he just met this guy, but he couldn't help it. 

The blonde shrugged, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, "Hmm..yeah it was okay,"

Chris' face dropped slightly. Okay? It was just okay?  He let out a puff of smoke. 

Then the man laughed, his hand combing away his hair and pushing it behind his ear, "I'm only kidding," he huffed, a sweet smile replacing the previously sinister one, "You're a really talented playwright, Chris."

Chris' heart skipped. He sounded so genuine, and...well he'd never been told that before. People compliment the actors of course because...well they're what you see on stage. But so far tonight this was the first compliment he'd gotten over his writing.

Wait. 

Chris' jaw dropped, "How'd you know I was the playwright?" He asked, dumbfounded. It wasn't like he was wearing a name tag. 

"Mmm, I asked around. I wanted to compliment you on the work," the man hummed. 

Chris' face heated up. Wow. This...gorgeous man wanted to meet him? And compliment him? Shit his play must've actually been good...

He chuckled, "Huh..well now I feel bad. You know my name, and came here to compliment me and all I've done has stammer uselessly," Chris shook his head, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. 

The man plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, "It's Scott," he smiled sweetly, bringing the cigarette to his lips. 

Chris' face tightened, and his entire body felt hot. He watched as Scott inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, blowing it in his face. And he looked fucking ethereal doing it. Does he normally smoke? Did he just do that to tease Chris? Was Scott flirting with him openly? 

"It was a good show," Scott's squeaky voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his jaw dropped as he watched Scott put the cigarette back into Chris's mouth, holding it for him.

Chris felt like he may faint if he tried to do anything. So he simply closed his mouth around the cigarette, inhaling as he stared up at Scott. 

Scott's eyelashes fluttered as he stared down at Chris, and his hair fell into his face. It didn't matter, because he looked beautiful no matter what. 

Chris took his lips off the cigarette, exhaling smoke, "Thank you."