#he’s a smarmy rich boy in this

[peridotsarelongterm]

PSA - Also found a copy of 77 Sunset Strip, “88 Bars.” Again, this is downloadable on seriesvault for anyone interested.

@citizenkampbell, some French cuffs for you. 😋

@cheer-deforest-kelley have you seen this one?

[unfinishedslurs]

matchmaking gone wrong (steddie)

“So,” Murray says, smarmy little smirk in place. Steve kind of hates him. “How long have you two been dancing around each other?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, now,” he says. “Everyone can see it. Or, well, maybe they can’t, but I can. Small town boys, both fighting against the odds. Alternate dimensions bring people together in the strangest ways, don’t they?”

“Hey, now,” Steve objects, shooting a panicked glance next to him. Eddie hasn’t moved a muscle since Murray opened his big mouth. His pose reminds Steve of a frightened rabbit, frozen in the eye of a snake. 

“Hey, now,” Murray mimics. “Real eloquent, Steve.” He says Steve like he’s saying something else. If he’s not careful, Steve is going to punch his fucking teeth in.“I gotta say, when I met you, you managed to take me by surprise. I really thought you were gonna be different. Small town rich boy, right? Big house, no parents, thought I knew the type. But you’ve managed to turn it on its head, haven’t you? Still, you’re lonely. Must be nice, having all those kids in your house. Less empty with them around. And Eddie here, too. I bet it’s real nice with him around.”

“Dude,” Steve says, prickling. He doesn’t know what eloquent means, or what that has to do with anything, but he really does not like what this guy is putting down. What business does this washed up mess of a conspiracy theorist have digging into Steve’s personal life? He chances another look at Eddie, who has unfrozen in favor of straightening up and glaring at Murray. 

“What the fuck do you know?” he spits, vicious in the way he only ever is when he’s defending someone. Steve is touched, really. 

“I know a lot,” Murray says, smile growing ever wider. “Like that you sleep in his bed, even though there’s…what, three perfectly good guest rooms here?”

“Two,” Steve corrects automatically. “The other one is Max’s.” Unofficially, of course, but she sleeps here enough that everyone else knows she’s claimed it. Technically it’s one and a half, given that Dustin is slowly taking over the one next to hers, but Ms. Henderson is actually responsible so he only stays the night occasionally. Robin just sleeps in Steve’s bed with them.

He realizes his mistake when Murray’s smile grows even wider. “Two!” He exclaims. “Two guest bedrooms, and yet you sleep in his bed, wake up next to him, end up with his pillow lines on your face. I bet it’s nice, huh? To have him soothe your nightmares, to fall asleep knowing he’s there. We like Steve, indeed. How could a man possibly resist? Tell me, Eddie, is that handkerchief in your pocket just for show? I’d have thought masochism was more your style.”

“Hey!” Steve barks. Eddie jumps next to him, and Steve puts his hand over his unthinkingly. Murray’s eyes track the movement, but Steve speaks before he can open his mouth. 

“Not cool, man,” he says firmly. Eddie’s hand is trembling under his, and Steve thinks that Murray is lucky that he cares more about comforting Eddie than he does about punching the smug look off his fucking face. 

“What’s not cool?” Murray asks. “Telling you two to get your shit together, for the betterment of us all?”

“You barely fucking know us,” Steve snaps. “There’s no ‘betterment of us all,’ Jesus. You can’t just…you can’t…” he lowers his voice, like he can protect Eddie from hearing it if he tries hard enough. “You can’t just out people, man. You should fucking know better.”

Eddie’s frozen again. Steve doesn’t look at him, instead staring Murray down like a challenge. The man does lose steam with that, wilting like a weed in the heat. “Ah,” he says. “I…ah, hell, I thought you knew.”

“What I know doesn’t mean shit if he’s not the one who told me,” Steve says. Eddie makes a sound, slowly sliding his hand out from under Steve’s. Steve lets him, resisting the urge to grab it back. He knows Eddie won’t run away from him, even if he wants to. “And what if you’d been wrong about me being cool, huh? Seriously man, aren’t you supposed to be smart or something? Act like it.”

Murray opens his mouth again, but Eddie interjects. “As fascinating and eye opening as this has been,” he says, clapping his shaking hands together, “I need to be gone, like, before this conversation ever happened. I appreciate your attempt to get me into golden boy’s pants over here, really, but, uh, yeah. I think the whole being straight thing kind of puts a damper on that, don’t you?”

“You’re straight?” Steve blurts out, hurt and embarrassed all at once. Well, shit, there goes whatever Steve thought they were hurtling towards. And after Steve just confessed he thought Eddie was gay. Is that discrimination? He’s going to kill Robin, dammit, she’s the one who pointed out Eddie’s hanky in the first place. 

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, you are.”

“I am?”

“Yes!”

“Uh,” Steve says, extremely confused. Is Eddie coming out as straight for him? He’s pretty sure this is supposed to go, like, the opposite way. “Since when?”

“Since—“ Eddie’s mouth drops open. “I thought since always, Harrington, what the fuck?” 

“Me what the fuck?” Steve sputters. “You what the fuck! You thought I was straight?”

“Of course I did!” Eddie throws his hands up. “You’re, like, the epitome of straight jock!”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says. “Because my painted nails and affinity for sucking cock scream heterosexual man.”

Affinity might be a stretch given that he’s only ever sucked one dick in his entire life, but hey, a little embellishment never hurts. He wasn’t awful at it. The painted nails weren’t actually his choice, either, thanks to El’s killer puppy eyes, but still. He’s been blatantly flirting with Eddie for months now. Would it kill him to notice?

Eddie doesn’t seem to have a response for this, mouth opening and closing without sound. 

“Well,” Murray says at last. Steve and Eddie both jump, having completely forgotten about him. “I guess you needed my help after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says, rounding on him. “I don’t need your help for jack-fucking-shit, alright? I am a grown-ass man. I am not repressed, I am not in denial, and I am not thanking you for this. You messed up my plan!”

“Your plan?” Eddie asks. 

“Your plan,” Murray repeats, amused. 

“Yes, my plan,” he hisses. “You’re not smarter than everyone else just because you don’t like the government, asshole. None of us like the fucking government, we’re just not about to go off the rails and become total shut-ins about it. We fucking get it, you’re lonely and have no friends. We don’t need you to tell us our own business for us, okay? You want to talk about getting help? Go to a fucking AA meeting and leave us alone.”

The skin around Murray’s eyes tightens. Steve might feel bad, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d fucking outed Eddie. Mistake or not, it doesn’t matter that Steve already knew if Eddie wasn’t ready to fucking tell him. 

Eddie’s hand on his arm stops him from saying much worse. 

He doesn’t turn around, just stares Murray down like a warning. Murray looks back at him, seemingly unimpressed, but Steve can see shame in the line of his shoulders. There’s apology in his eyes when he breaks Steve’s gaze to glance at Eddie. 

He’s not a bad guy, Steve knows. Joyce tells them fondly about how he helped her and Hopper get their shit together. How they’d both be Russian chow ten times over if it wasn’t for him. Nancy, too, has some good things to say about the guy. He was the one who helped her get word out about Barb’s death. He helped her get with Jonathan too, even if that didn’t exactly work out. 

And it’s not like he blames Murray for Nancy cheating on him. She’s her own person, and makes her own decisions, even if they’re shitty, hurtful ones that he’s still not sure he’ll ever fully get over. 

Jonathan said it best, once. He’s weird, and nosy, and annoying, and I don’t really like him. But I think he really just wants to help, in any way he can. Plus he’s a really good cook. 

Steve breaks.

“Just get out of my house, man,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Joyce will be happy to host you for the night, they’ve got a spare room there. Tell her my house was too ‘rich kid’ for you, or something. But you’re not staying here anymore.”

Murray nods, accepting this at face value. He gets up from the table, pausing to snag the vodka. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he offers, and disappears before either of them can reply. 

“So,” Eddie says, after a considerable length of silence. His voice shakes slightly. “That was, uh, enlightening.” 

He huffs a tired laugh. “That’s one word for it,” he says, finally turning to look Eddie in the eye. He’s shifty, eyes flitting around the room, hands playing out guitar chords against the counter. Steve takes one in hand. 

Eddie stills, finally looking at his face. Steve won’t force eye contact, but he needs to know Eddie’s focusing on him and not whatever shitty thoughts are flying across his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he offers quietly. “I didn’t know he’d try that shit with us, when I told Hopper he could stay here.”

Eddie resumes his finger chords. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

“I know,” he says. “Still, that wasn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“Go? ‘Go’ what? What’s going?”

Steve shuts his eyes. “Us. I wasn’t going to say anything yet. Not until after you told me you were…”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

“I can get out of your hair, man, if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“What?” Steve‘s eyes fly open. “No! I’m not kicking you out, what the fuck?”

“You’re not?”

“Literally what part of that conversation made you think that’s where this was headed?” He demands. 

“I dunno, man,” Eddie confesses. “Good things don’t really happen to people like me.”

“And I’m a good thing?” Steve tries to joke, raising an eyebrow. 

Eddie doesn’t take the bait, just briefly meets Steve’s eyes and lowers his voice. “Steve, you’re, uh. You’re kind of one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Oh,” falls weakly from his lips. 

“Shit, was that too much? That was totally too much, sorry, I’m not good at this. You can totally kick me out now, fuck, that’s so embarrassing—“

Steve kisses him. 

“Honestly, I’m not that worried about it,” Eddie says, laying with his feet on Steve’s pillow and head hanging off the bed. 

“Really?”

“I mean, like, it was a dick thing to do, but what’s he gonna do? Tell the whole town? They all know about me anyway.”

Steve kind of shrugs at this, because as much as he wishes it weren’t true he’s right. He’s walked past fag sharpied on Eddie’s locker enough times to know that unlike Steve, he never really had the luxury of hiding it. 

“People always just knew,” he tells Steve. “Don’t know how, don't know why. I’m not sure I‘ve ever actually come out to anyone except Wayne, and that was more of a bitter, self-loathing explosion than anything. It backfired, obviously. Instead of kicking me out, he told me he loved me and I cried so hard I threw up. Totally embarrassing. But even with Wayne…I didn’t have to. It’s like it was tattooed on my forehead, or something. Too soft, too close with other boys, too obvious. So I leaned into it. Learned to fight, ‘cause getting beat up might end in something worse. Let my freak flag fly, let ‘em focus on the DND and the devil worshiping because somehow that was better than being queer.”

Steve, who’d also known about Eddie long before Eddie had told him, bites his tongue. 

“I think he’s safe,” Eddie finishes with a nod. “He really did seem like he wouldn’t have said anything, if he’d known I hadn’t told you. Which is hilarious to me, by the way, because I’d just kind of assumed I didn’t have to so you might have just waited forever. Plus I think he and Hopper have, like, a vibe.”

Steve chokes. “A vibe?”

“They’re not fucking,” he clarifies, “but they have fucked, yanno?”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“Nah, man. I bet that’s why Hopper asked us to host him, instead of offering up his spare room immediately. Your ex and your new squeeze living together?” He whistles lowly. “Awkward.” “I don’t want to know this,” Steve declares, flipping face first into his pillow. He pushes Eddie’s stinky feet away from his face, ignoring his squawk. “Why would you give me information? Now I have to look Hopper in the eye knowing that his taste in men is Murray.”

[randomprose]

a series of texts/letters/notes that mo guan shan has written for he tian but will never send

note: he tian left after high school

—

xx/xx/xx to: chicken dick [unsent]

are you at wherever the fuck you should be at now? hope your flight was as shitty as your goodbye was

—

xx/xx/xx

Decided to give the old college experience a try after all. The high school teachers did say my grades were good enough to apply to some. Thanks for that I guess by the way. Studying wasn’t so bad when you have help.

Tuition costs are gonna be a bitch though so I’ll have to look for scholarship and shit.

I’m keeping my promise and trying my best to be better.

—

xx-xx 01:09 PM to: chicken dick [unsent]

[photo attached: a black puppy]

ma got a new dog. the mutt followed her from the market after she shooed some bigger dogs picking on it. 

xx-xx 01:10 PM to: chicken dick [unsent]

now it switched to following me around it’s fucking annoying. i have to look where i walk or i’ll step on it and then it’ll cry non-stop. stupid mutt. 

xx-xx 01:10 PM to: chicken dick [unsent]

told ma not to name it or it’ll get attached.

—

xx-xx 10:34 AM to: chicken dick [unsent]

[photo attached: a black puppy with an orange collar]

named him tian-tian

—

xx/xx/xx

Got accepted to a university in Shanghai. Food science and tech. It feels so fucking surreal.

Ma cried when we got the acceptance letter. I legit thought it was another rejection but the envelope was different. She opened the letter because my hands were shaking. It came with a fucking scholarship. She’s on the phone now telling all our relatives about it. We’re gonna see Pa tomorrow to tell him.

I wish you were here to open the letter with me too, chicken dick.

—

xx-xx 02:38 AM to: chicken dick [unsent]

ma said there’s a chance pa could get out on parole. they’re hopeful but i don’t wanna get my hopes up. 

xx-xx 02:40 AM to: chicken dick [unsent]

sorry. idk who else to tell this to.

—

xx/xx/xx

I applied for an athletic scholarship too. Track and field. The one the school gave was just for basic tuition. This one will cover the rest. It helped that I won a couple of track meets in high school. Guess all that running from gang’s in middle school paid off, huh?

Did you ever imagine I’ll be in college with not one but two scholarship? ‘Cause I sure as hell fuckin’ didn’t. Holy fucking shit.

Still gotta work part time though. Living expenses in Shanghai is no joke. Fuck. Do you know how much cong you bing costs here? Don’t even get me started on how much a bowl of noodle is here. Unbefuckinglievable. 

It wasn’t even as good as the one we used to eat at after school. I miss eating xiaomian with you.

—

xx-xx 11:21 AM to: chicken dick [unsent]

shanghai is fucking big and confusing. and busy. 

xx-xx 11:30 AM to: chicken dick [unsent]

i missed a station and messed up my train switch.

xx-xx 01:19 PM to: chicken dick [unsent]

it’s fine. i still made it to the campus. lots of rich boys here like you btw. you would’ve fit right in.

—

xx/xx/xx

First years have to live on campus and the dorming system fucking sucks ass. And my roommate was an even bigger dick than you but at least he wasn’t a slob. No one will top you in that department I guess.

Rented a cheaper apartment off campus this year. It’s a shitty studio type, a bit cramped, but I like the privacy. It’s also closer to my part-time job and there’s this elderly couple who lives below me. I help them around sometimes and they give me food. The old landlady is a bit of a hardass though but…I think you would’ve charmed and won her over too, you smarmy ass shithead.

Rent isn’t cheap but it’s not too expensive either. If you were here, we could’ve shared an apartment. A regular one, not the high-end one you used to live in. Better for costs and splitting chores—not that you were any good at them, but you would’ve gotten better if you stayed. I wasn’t gonna tolerate your rich boy ass in college.

I know you had to leave but I wish you stayed instead. Would’ve been less lonely here.

—

xx/xx/xx

Finals exams are coming up and it’s kicking my fucking ass. Between classes and my part-time job I hardly have time to study. It’s a good thing sports training and extra-curricular activities are on pause now. But holy fucking shit why is it so hard to study?? It’s like I’m back in middle school and nothing is going in my head. How did I make it through high school?!

Yeah, yeah. I know. You were there. You tutored me and shit. Whatever, you dick. I don’t know why but it was just easier to focus with you around…but also not. It’s…you’re a distraction, but also you help me focus. Does that makes sense?

I guess what I’m trying to say is…you being around made me want to do better. 

It’s selfish but I wish it was just Jian Yi. I wish I got to keep you here with me.

—

xx/xx/xx

Exams are finally fucking done ended. I think I passed all of them. I have to pass all of them. I wanna graduate next year already. I can't be delayed. I’m so exhausted I feel like my brain is running on fumes. Bet you’ll be all smug and shit because you know you aced all your exams, you fucking smart ass. If you were here I mean. Fuck. I’m hungry but I’m too tired to get up. I want those sandwiches you used to make. If you were here would you make them for me? Would you pat my head and tell me I did a good job? When are you coming back? I miss your stupid smugass face. I miss y—

—

xx/xx/xx

I smoked a cigarette tonight. Just one. I was at a party and someone somehow had real cigarettes instead of a vape or those fancy e-cigarette shit. Does your rich boy ass use those? Or do you still prefer real nicotine? Bet you still smoke sticks you fucking edgelord.

I smoked in the balcony while my friends talked shit. Yeah, I have friends, dick head. You pick a few of those up when you do the college experience apparently. The owner of the house and the host is also my friend. Never imagined my punk ass self to hang out with college kids and get invited to honest to god normal college parties, but, fuck it. Here I am.

Zhengxi was there too. We go to the same university. Don’t think I ever mentioned that before, have I? I’m not sure what he’s taking. I think it was business? Something with a lot of math. I don’t fucking know. He’s…he’s been better. He was a fucking hot mess after Jian Yi left but now he’s…still a mess. Sometimes. I am too. After you left. But he’s trying. I am too. And some days are harder than others.

I don’t really smoke. Just felt like it tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol (no, I’m not drunk, I barely drank) or the company. Maybe I just missed you and thought this is what you’ll do if you were here.

It was menthol. The cig I smoked. It fell cool in my lungs, calming almost, and I kind of understand why you're addicted to this shit I guess. If I didn’t hate the taste of smoke and the aftertaste maybe I’ll be too.

I didn’t hate it when you were blowing it in my mouth though.

The air in the balcony was cold. The smoke from the cig reminded me how you’d sometimes forget you still have a lighted stick between your fingers and just watch the smoke float up. I finished the stick and stubbed it twice on the ash tray before twisting it. Just like how you put it out.

—

xx/xx/xx

‘will he be sad if i leave?’ you wrote that down in your notebook. Before. In middle school. It was scratched over by ballpoint but the ink was blue and the words were written in black. It’s like you didn’t want to erase it after all. Did you want me to read it, you fuck?

Will I be sad if you leave? Guess what, dick head? I’m fucking devastated. Not really. 🖕

[softquietsteadylove]

Just Eros, Full with his ego, trying to win over the new stallion and Gil watching him with amusement. Eros learns a hard lesson 😈

Eros hit the ground hard, flat on his back with his hair rustling in the dust. The stallion he had attempted to mount whinnied with glee at his failure. "All right, mate, it wasn't that funny."

"I found it pretty funny."

Eros dusted himself off, still with plenty of dignity for a guy who had just been tossed to the dirt by their newest stable addition. He straightened his vest and looked at Gil, "do you not have anything else that needs your attention at the moment?"

He shrugged, leaning off the door frame and walking closer to arguably his second-least-favourite club member. "Nothing as fun as watching Heracles reject you."

"Hercules?"

Gil shook his head, his arms still crossed, "Heracles. Thena picked it."

Eros' face changed in a way Gil didn't entirely enjoy. "Ah, my beautiful Thena named him? I suppose that tracks--she does so have a way with the classics."

Gil resisted the urge to make a face at Eros kissing ass when the woman in question wasn't even present to hear it. "He's responded to her pretty well. But it'll be a long time before he's fit for riding, so I've told everyone to keep their distance for a while. I don't suppose you got that memo."

"Ah, must've flew under my radar, old chap," Eros excused vaguely as he clasped his hands behind his back like the old-money rich boy he was. "Apologies--I merely wanted to test out the new steed for myself."

"Well, you did, and you can see he's not up for it," Gil muttered, but Eros didn't scurry out of the stable like he would have hoped. In fact, he walked closer to the black stallion again. "Hey!"

"Fascinating creatures, are they not?" Eros tossed over his shoulder, leaning his face forward to observe Heracles. The horse paced back and forth in front of him, still tied up but obviously ready to kick and fight and fuss at a moment's notice.

"Uh, yeah man, I'm a big fan," Gil sighed, walking closer mostly to make sure Eros didn't get his skull bashed in by the obstinate stallion. That would for sure come out of his paycheck.

"I had always been around them," Eros shrugged, still monologuing to both of them but also no one in particular. "Comes with the upbringing, of course. But I truly loved riding from the moment I tried it."

Eros was pretty good too, not that Gil particularly wanted to admit it. But the club prized him as a member. He was aggressive and competitive when it called for it. And Gil did somewhat believe that his pretty boy status also helped in that regard.

"Being drawn to my lovely Thena simply came with the territory."

Gil twitched again. It wasn't really any of his business, technically. And he was pretty sure they weren't actually together, despite Eros' overly familiar way of speaking about her. But it gave Gil the creeps the way he attached 'my' to every adjective about her.

Eros gave him a look that felt like an odd mix of resentment and admiration. "Unfortunately, I believe she shares your obsession with these lovely creatures. I've never been able to lure her away form Olympia's side."

Gil had seen him try it, too. But Olympia was always eager to keep her dear rider away from the smarmy equestrian whose hair refused to be defined by the shape of their helmets.

"It seems you have succeeded in forging a," Eros paused, and again Gil got the distinct feeling his cage was being rattled, "friendship, of sorts, with her."

Not that he was an expert by any means, but Gil wouldn't say he completely lacked social awareness with people in exchange for his way with the horses. And he was pretty close to entirely sure that Eros was saying he was jealous, in not so many words.

"In such a short span of time working here, I do not know how."

Maybe it was more like he was about to warn him to stay away from her. Which Gil found even funnier in concept than watching Eros fall face first off of Heracles' back.

"But!" Eros ruffled his ridiculous coif of hair and looked at Gil head on. He put on a pleasant, if uncomfortable seeming smile. "I do believe it would be for my darling Thena's happiness alone that I could see myself setting aside our differences."

Now Gil was having to really dig to find the meaning behind Eros' many unnecessary words. But like shovelling the dung, he was up to the task, and he was pretty sure Eros was trying to say that Thena would be happy if they could be civil with one another.

Gil eyed Eros' vaguely gesturing hand, not at all held out for a real handshake between peers. "She tell you that?"

Pretty boy faltered, and Gil bit back a grin. "Not in so many words. But my dearest Thena isn't so loquacious by nature, now is she?"

My, my, my--that was all this guy ever said. Gil uncrossed his arms and swatted Eros' intrusive hands out of his personal space. And Heracles' for that matter! "I don't know about that. But the Thena I know always says exactly what she means. And she hasn't mentioned anything to me about us having to act like we're drinking buddies."

This time it was Eros who squirmed, and Gil enjoyed it maybe just a little, tiny bit too much. "Ah, well, my-"

"Look, man," Gil addressed the highborn gentleman the way he would any of his fellow shit shovellers. He put a hand on Heracles' neck, whose tail was still whipping around behind him in displeasure. "I don't care what problem you think you have with me. I'm here to take care of the horses. And I don't really care what you have to say on the matter, I trust that if Thena wants me to know something, she'll tell me."

Eros's pleasant smile slowly melted off his face, leaving a cold disdain in its place. He clasped his hands in front of him now, drawing up his shoulders to take advantage of his height. "Talk often with ma cherie, do you?"

Here was the root of the problem. Gil eyed Eros the same way he would Heracles or any other young colt getting a little too brash with him. He could recognise stomping hooves and aggressive breathing in more than just equines. "I don't know if everyday is often."

Eros bristled.

"But Thena likes to come in and spend time with Olympia," Gil shrugged, back to having a little too much fun messing with Eros. He ran his hand over Heracles' mane. "I guess we talk and hang out in here while she does."

It was common knowledge that Eros liked to all but follow Thena around when they were both on club grounds at the same time. The only one who didn't know she was completely uninterested, was Eros. Or maybe he did know, in which case Gil's distaste for the guy would only get worse from now on.

"Gil?"

"Speaking of," Gil waved to her.

"My love!"

"Eros," she greeted as dryly and formally as she could. She gave him and his outstretched arms a wide berth as she walked over to them. "How is he today?"

Gil stepped aside to let Thena greet Heracles in person. The stallion indeed eyed her with mild tolerance, passively allowing her presence in a way he didn't with many other club members. "He's in a pretty good mood. I think that's from rejecting riders left and right, though."

Thena took one look at Eros - and the dirt on the white sleeves of his riding shirt - and smiled. Her hand touched Heracles' nose gently, pulling him so she could nuzzle his snout in good humour. "I can't blame you, boy."

Heracles pulled his head from Thena's grasp, although it did seem like he was nodding. And he didn't kick up his back hooves in protest, either.

"Are you done training for the day, my sweet?" Eros continued, completely undeterred by his rejection, now thrice, nor Thena's refusal to even look him in the eye. "I would be happy to fetch us some lunch."

"No."

Gil chuckled, but Eros looked like she had whispered a sweet nothing to him. A woman of few words indeed. Poor guy; Gil could at least sympathise with the sucker who was clearly blindly in love with the rider between them.

He could see how Thena could have that affect on someone.

"Are you departing for the day, then? I-"

"I'm here to spend time with Olympia, Eros," Thena glared at him, no longer in the mood to even entertain his small talk. "I realise you and Pip are not so close, but some of us actually like our horses."

Eros sniffed, taking at least a little offense at the jab at his pride as a rider. He straightened again, "I shall leave you to it then, mi amor."

Thena didn't even bother looking at him as he dragged himself out of the stables, looking back at her no less than four times in the two minutes it took for him to exit the building completely. "Is he gone?"

Gil chuckled, happy to keep her secret for her. "He's gone."

She let out a sigh, which Heracles pretended annoyed him by shuffling away from her. "Usually he's gone by the afternoon so I can have some peace, but he's been hanging around more and more. He and Ikaris really think they can tame this fellow."

Heracles freely voiced what a ridiculous notion that was.

"Okay, okay, easy," Gil chided the excitable male. "Get over yourself, buddy."

Thena laughed faintly, moving away from the tied stallion with Gil and towards Olympia's pen. "I do hope he wasn't in here pestering you again."

Pestering sure, but not technically about anything related to his job this time. Gil glanced at her, "I mean I wouldn't say we're best friends or anything, but I guess he was harmless."

Thena freely shook her head, how sleek blonde ponytail swishing behind her. "You have my sympathies. But I admit I would rather he be bothering you than me and Olympia."

Gil's smile grew. She was still in her breeches and riding boots, which were pretty flat compared to the elegant heels he'd seen her wear casually. She was shorter than usual, allowing him to look down at her slightly.

"Sorry," she uttered after finding him staring at her. "I suppose that is cruel of me."

"Hey, I don't mind, consider it part of the job," he shrugged with a laugh. He looked in on Olympia, who was standing with her butt to them, as if to give them some privacy. He leaned on the edge of her gate. "I don't think he likes us being friends."

Thena startled faintly at the word. Last they had discussed being friends, he did have a distinct memory of her caring for him rather attentively.

The feeling of her lips on his cheek always came to his mind, whether he wanted it to or not.

"Well, I suppose I have to thank you for that," she pursed her lips faintly, waiting to see if he would further dig up the topic she clearly didn't feel the need to discuss further.

Gil just grinned, opening the gate for her and sliding out of her way. "What are friends for?"

She could definitely tell he was still in a teasing mood after having his fun giving Eros a hard time. But she walked into Olympia's pen to greet her horse.

"Holler if you need anything, ladies," he chuckled, bidding his goodbye to both Thena and Olympia. It was childish of him to like teasing Thena, but she was a lot cuter to tease than Eros.

[terrence-silver]

Read somewhere that the only reason Terry Silver was shown to be kind towards his staff, namely helping Carla at the begining of Season 4, was because he's been through therapy and mellowed his ways or some crap. Like Terry Silver was ever unkind towards his staff even before therapy?? He was there chilling with his secretary in the 80's and talking to her like a friend from his tub at the height of him being coked out of his mind. Truth is, Terry was always nice and oddly nice towards his employees. That is just fact. Okay, sorry, rant over.

Agreed.

I think Terry Silver just has gallant, old money manners in general when he wishes to --- he has them the way one has a weapon; he can produce and utilize it whenever and however he sees fit because a battle can be fought with many tools, and he's a master of all at his disposal --- and this includes the time pre-therapy, post-therapy, mid-therapy, in the 80's, 90's, 00's, present day, whenever, however. Always. I think him being the typical evil rich guy shouting at the pool boy or something is a gross mischaracterization and blatantly missing the point.

Out of character galore.

He is nice towards his people. Emphasis on the his. Those he pays. Keeps around. Those he trusts to run his household(s) and mansions. His tasks. His businesses. Important chunks of his life, if we're honest. A wise man once said it is prudent to be polite towards the one tasked and charged with serving you your food, because one never knows how they could tamper with it and this is a belief I feel Terry firmly holds to. Don't shit where you eat. Quite literally. Don't openly mistreat your staff because you never know ways in which they can retalliate and if he loathes one thing it is having no control over someone's actions and it so happens, being nice affords you a lot of control. He might be shouting at a Dynatox agent half way across the world, but he isn't going to shout at someone bringing him his cocktail and placing it down on the edge of his jacuzzi, because one is far away and the other could be an immediate threat.

What kind of captain wants mutiny inside of his ship?

And I do think that all his life, he was actually a surprisingly good boss to work under when one filters out everything else about him and just exists in that liminal space where he's a boss and someone's a worker --- he's bafflingly okay as an authority figure, creepily so --- shockingly so, all things considered, to the point that if some maid working for him was told all about his otherwise bad dealings and practices, she might not even believe it because Mr. Silver is just the salt of the earth and it rings true in the 70's, 80's, present day and constantly. He might even come off as oddly relaxed and jovial at times and that being his underling came with some amazing perks and rewards, so long as you don't cross lines, fail him and betray him, of course.

Naturally.

Even then, I picture Terry smarmy enough to where he can cleverly gaslight and convince the one who failed it is their doing and that he's taking disciplinary actions because he was given no choice. Truly, regretful. Ah, well. Hell, he might have them apologizing to him. But, this chastising usually never has him raising his tone. Not once. He is nice. He understands niceness, like one understands a cavity in their tooth and the outline of its shape when they push the tip of their tongue inside of it.

N i c e.

He is nice.

Margaret Spencer chats with him while he's bathing and one almost gets the impression of friendship and intimacy with all the mutual teasing going on, on equal footing --- like an elderly aunt from overseas berating her unruly American nephew. She is never subjegated or submissive, because Terry is nice, and Terry seems infinitely amused by their interactions. Milos knows Terry Silver's contacts enough to address John Kreese and ask him if he wants coffee right from the threshold of the door. With Snake and Dennis, we aren't certain if they're just some kids that co-habitate under his roof, if they're proteeges, his own personal wind-up jesters, his hired thugs or all four. Even with Mike Barnes back in the days, the way he initially greets him is genuinely inviting, offering the chance of a lifetime, with all the rewards and opportunities it entails; sponsoring him, cheekily sharing pleasantaries, joking around offering him cars, welcoming him to LA, giving him allowance like an overly (and worryingly kind) host.

This isn't nessecarily a bad boss. Not on the surface. Not until he's crossed.

This can all coexist with the fact that he was still a morally repugnant and corrupt individual who relished in the pain of others, but I don't think Terry needed therapy to be genuinely polite towards his people or to understand the power of charm and the perks of some hefty lovebombing, because he didn't need to therapy to understand a gallant approach inspires awesome loyalty that can't be bought with mere money. So, no, I don't think there's an era in his life, in truth, where he wouldn't help a maid or approach them with this disarmingly cavalier attitude where the staff themselves aren't certain if Mr. Silver is just the nicest man ever or if they're imagining things. Mr. Silver is almost like a...friend. Working for him is like being in a family.

[seiya-starsniper]

10 fandoms/10 characters/10 tags

FUCK YEAH LET'S GO BLORBO LOVING HOURS

Tagged by the amazing @sans--seraph and @verminetroglodyte

Loki from MCU He is single-handedly responsible for my descent into madness with the MCU. None of my friends could get me to watch a single movie until the bestie one day said, "Hey you should come watch Thor with us, there's a character we think you'd like" and it was OVER after that.

The Corinthian from Sandman A lot of people probably think my favorite character must be Dream or Hob because of my ship but nope, it's The Corinthian. My beloved serial killing, eyeball eating, just needs a hug and some validation baby, I love you so. Also, it helps that he'd played by Boyd Holbrook, who I was OBSESSED with as a teen when he was a twinky model lmao.

Hawks from My Hero Academia I know Hawks is a pretty polarizing character in the fandom, and I think that's part of the reason why I love him so so much. He's technically one of the "good guys" as a hero yes, but he has done so many questionably things in the name of corrupt hero society. He's the type of character I'm not sure I'd like if he were a real person, but I think that's part of what makes him so interesting. Absolute sweetheart on the outside, but will gut you like a fish if he thinks it's for the greater good.

Seto Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh MY OG BLORBO I LOVE YOU SO 💖💖💖 What else is there to say about this iconic boy? He's a dick. He's rich, screw the rules he has money. He's a meme. He is absolutely over the top and tries to insist he has no friends but he's been adopted by the heroes as a bestie. Love him forever.

Sara Lance from DCTV/Arrowverse I've GOTTA include my White Canary queen because she was my bisexual awakening. I had always known I had some attraction to women, and even had gone by pan for a little bit, but lord my attraction to women came alive with Sara. I may not longer care for Arrowverse, but Sara Lance will always have a special place in my heart.

Hiccup Haddock from How to Train Your Dragon Hiccup holds a special place in my heart for bucking the trend on traditional protagonists. He's a little weakling. People underestimate him. He doesn't always get things right! But he loves fiercely, he's determined, he's smart, and he believes the best in everyone. One of my favorite blorbos ever.

Roy Mustang from Fullmetal Alchemist Smarmy bastard with a heart of gold. He will go the distance to protect those he loves, and he's not afraid to burn people to a crisp to do it. He knows his weaknesses and tries to push past them anyways if he needs to protect someone he loves. Best boy, I love him so.

Harley Quinn from DC Comics Another important character in my bisexual development ahahha. I know Harley's kind of over saturated the market as a Strong Female Character but she's still so important to me for so many reasons. She came out on the other side of an abusive relationship. She's funny, she's silly, she loves life, no matter how many wrenches get thrown at her, literally and figuratively. And her relationship with Pam is SO IMPORTANT to me ahhhhhhhhh.

Jyn Erso from Rogue One Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee. I love her. She's a grump. She's a survivor. She's a tragic figure drawn into a war she never asked to be a part of and she dies for a cause that never knowing how important her impact truly was. I have read a million fix-it fics and AUs of her and the whole Rogue One crew and still love her to this day.

Q from James Bond (Daniel Craig Movies) My nerdy baby. He's so smart and so awkward and so endearing it hurts. I love him so. He has two cats and a mortgage. Bond takes too much advantage of his goodwill and Q lets him because he's in love a good friend.

Tagging: @rooftopwreck @virgo-dream @nygmobblepot-trash @lyriclorelei @gil212 @valeriianz @valiantstarlights @writing-for-life @two-hands-toward-the-sun @bazzybelle

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

One thing I really miss from Season 1 Jack was just how snarky he was. Sure he was a Bit of a coward as a character flaw, but he had some Bite to him that made him feel like a credible villain, even if a mostly ineffectual one. Instead of being a flat out Cowardly Mama's Boy, he sassed off about his parents always doing Dumb Parents things and throwing wild parties, snarked back at Wuya, and had an attitude beyond occasionally smarmy coward. Which would be fine if you were to develop him out of that and use that lessening of seeming threat level by making him maybe doubt his clinging to the side of evil and migrate towards good or even just neutrality. But instead it kind of feels like the narrative expects us to simultaneously believe he's both a villain with potential to have his own Evil Overlord Jack timeline and also that he's a simpering coward who's perfectly fine acting like a total stooge to other, bigger baddies.

Yeah, season 1 established Jack as a much more... human character. 

He's an antisocial rich kid who's desperate for the acknowledgement of others, but also actively acts abrasively to keep them at arm's length. He's a genius in robotics and knows how smart he is. He's snarky and cocky, he knows what he wants and feels entitled to the whole world's praises, and if conquest is what it takes to show off what he has, he'll happily do it, because it means less social interaction he has to awkwardly work through.

In fact, he's prone to self-sabotaging or bristling in response to positive social situations, is avoidant of things like parties but still wants to be talked about positively, and automatically meets even polite greetings with snarkiness.

Oh yeah! Can I strut now?

First order of business when I rule the world: vaporize all mimes.

Nice place you have here, Clay, too bad about the sudden change in weather.

Oh, I'm leaving alright, and you're coming with me! (Oh really, who's gonna make me?) You are. Kimiko, meet Kimiko. Or should I say, meet your match.

(No hands.) Yeah. And no game.

You fully get why the monks are wary and unfond of him. He was a smarmy threat and he actively mocks and belittles them unpleasantly. He insults their intelligence and appearance, steals from them and actively tries to kill them, is occasionally creepy towards Kimiko. And he gets pretty frequent W's or near wins, so his threats were not empty threats. It's very clear why there's mutual bad blood.

And then there’s the thing with his parents. He didn't have a very strong negative or positive reaction to his father sending him the puzzlebox, so it's evidently not unusual to get gifts like that from his parents. He’s neither surprised nor completely uninterested. Then, he says it's lame and throws it away when he solves it. 

A sort of distant relationship from an antisocial teenager trying to come into his own. The only parental figure’s gift he seemed immediately impressed and sentimental about was the helibot his villainous grandmother gave him. Otherwise, he’s not particularly desperate for presents from them.

Like the scene you mention, where he insults his parent's boring parties.

Jack: Standard for my folk's parties. Snobfest a-go-go. Ashley: So, are you Jack? the kid they're all talking about upstairs? Jack: (Perking up hopefully) They're talking about me?! Are they calling me a genius?! Ashley: More like "weirdo" Jack: WHAT'S SO WEIRD ABOUT ME?!

He thinks his parents are lame and throw lame parties. He avoids parties because he’s antisocial and doesn’t do as well with people as he does with machines, but it makes him happy to know that they might all be talking about how smart he is up there. And when he hears that they’re insulting him, he doesn’t simper or shrink, he throws a furious tantrum and lashes out.

It’s a far cry from the Mama's boy who "has panic attacks when he's away from his mama for more then one day".

The later seasons feel off because he's more of a simpering lackey and doesn't even pull off any smug attitudes or land any biting insults anymore, he just... shrinks back and cries. Makes the encounters with the monks feel painfully one-sided.

Even entirely separate from the villain decay that all the Heylin character underwent and the massive flanderization almost all the characters had in season 3 to undermine their previous growth, Jack just feels like a different character.

He was always immature in a way that was well communicated, but by the end of the series, it's less "edgy teenager rebellion" and more "uncomfortably infantilized by the narrative".

He was always cowardly and cocksure with an Napoleon complex. Always the type who’s taunt an angry dog while it’s leashed only to scream and run when it broke its chain, but at some point he’s very much just a recurring joke about how pitiful he is. But the type of cowardice changes into something less teenager-who-thinks-he-can-take-over-the-world and more shrinking-violet. He’s very woobified.

And it’s sad, because for a while there was a nice opening for places where he could have gone. He had an episode where he acknowledged that he’s only evil is out of fear of failure and an internal logic that evil is sure to lose anyway so it doesn’t matter if he fails or not.

Jack could have either cemented his desire to have a reason for being on the Heylin side that’s not just that desperate fear, or he could have made the step to the Xiaolin side that every finale teases.

Ultimately they didn’t go either direction though. Like you said, he sort of ends up as just “a simpering coward who's perfectly fine acting like a total stooge to other, bigger baddies.” Especially in his ping-ponging relationship with Hannibal Bean, where he’s either trembling and begging Bean to leave him alone, or groveling unquestioningly at Bean’s brilliant evil plans before walking directly into being betrayed.

[shippingcontacts]

Love in the air ep 8

Prapai is capital H horny.

I knew even before their episodes started that prapaisky where gonna get some heads turning (understandably I guess?) but moving on.

They didn't have to be so good at their jobs🤧 prapai is living his enemies to lovers, slow burn, self insert fan fic. Remember when I said this show was just full of all my fictional turn ons? Yeahhhh

He's so smitten it makes him look stupid. Sex with sky broke his brain now he's all he can think about. (three months mr playboy?) That's so very rich pain in the ass™ of him.

I'm not ready for the pain and angst that is probably going to be skys backstory 😔 I can't bare to watch best boy sad.

He's cute. Not quite golden retrieve but close enough.

He's already so tired of him 😂

Prapai liked that a little TOO much. He's so smug. Sky my boy you've got your hands full. But also it's gonna be so nice to see such a self assured, smarmy playboy fall completely and utterly in love with sky.

Now to close this off. Rain was still too adorable for his own good. I shouldn't have enjoyed seeing him pleading on his knees as much as I did but I no longer go to therapy so im not gonna open that can of worms🤠

Secondly if I see one more reused scene from the first 2 episodes I may loose my mind.

And lastly if anyone would like I could give my thoughts on the conditions leading to prapaiskys roll in the sheets. (in a tagged and tw post of course)

[ladysawblay]

Aizawa sighs. "What's the plan then?"

"Right," Drake says, sniffing. He returns to the map on the table. "There are three likely cases for where they might have settled." 

They map out three different locations. Shouto is assigned the entertainment district thanks to his renown family status and Aizawa is set to investigate the Quirkless communities, though Hitoshi thinks Drake wants him in the least likely spot his wife would be.

"Last, but not least, the Pearl Dragon. The Black District's most popular entertainment hub, run by my cousin, Kekyou-san. If she found Izuku and discovered how smart my boy is, she'd put him to work in business management. Psyren, that's where I want you."

Hitoshi startles, heat rising to his cheeks. "You want me to go to the pleasure house?" While he obviously has sexual experience, brothels or strip clubs have never been his vibe. They're too impersonal, too smarmy, too much like he's taking advantage of someone in a situation they can't get out of.

"You can't be serious," Aizawa growls.

"Absolutely," Drake confirms. "Eraserhead is best suited for sorting through groups of people quickly and you, quite frankly, don't act rich enough to fit into the casinos. The Pearl Dragon's been gunning it for the younger crowd lately and—" his eyes narrow, searching Hitoshi up and down.

"You're of age, right?"

"Y-yeah? Twenty one."

[thegloweringcastle]

Part Four - 14 Days Later

Merry Christmas Eve @the-lonelybarricade​!! I present to you the last chapter of your gift 🥺

It was so much fun to write this little series for you and even better to gift it. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story as much as I have, my love! ❤️❤️❤️

warnings: light angst, unhappy/unhealthy family & relationship briefly mentioned in beginning

word count: ~2.2k

Her entire life, Feyre and her family had lived in a low-income community. The education was poor, the job opportunities even more abysmal. Feyre received only hand-me-downs and never had the means to do what she wanted. Those resources were saved only for her sisters; for Nesta and her books, for Elain and her plants.

Their parents had been another story altogether; their father was absentminded and always seemed lost in his own little world, their mother had been harsh and controlling.

“A pipe dream” she had said when Feyre expressed interest in traveling. “You can barely even read. How are you supposed to do anything?” And Feyre hadn’t known any better than to bite her tongue and never mention it again. Besides, why would she believe otherwise when the kids at school were just as unforgiving? They never held back when it came to sharing their opinions of her.

By the time Feyre started high school, and her mother was gone and her father was declining and her sisters had left, she knew better than to trick herself into believing she could ever escape. She wasn’t smart enough to find a job with substantial pay, she wasn’t rich enough to go to a four year university, she wasn’t talented enough to create what her heart ached for.

It was all too easy to fall for the tall, blond classmate, fresh off the football field. A Daddy’s Money type boy, he expected to have her at his beck and call in no time. He had not been disappointed. Feyre had been left alone for so long, had been struggling to simply survive, that she gave in. He was attractive enough, nice enough, wealthy enough. But when things went south, and he revealed the predatory, controlling side to himself, Feyre knew staying with him would be even worse than staying in her hometown.

After the flames died and the rubble cooled, Feyre promised herself she would never let something like it - something like him - happen again. She grew tired of relying on other people, of simply giving into the world’s expectations of her.

There was a sense of triumph that came with quitting a job, especially when your manager was a sleazy, smarmy man with wandering eyes and a god complex. Feyre’s boss was the reason arrogance had a bad rap; she knew another man who wore it far better.

Feyre didn’t know why she owned three can openers, but she figured she could get by with just one. Maybe even none. Same for the two hammers and many throw pillows.

She was ruthless in clearing out her apartment, tossing things she might end up regretting, but only having the patience to entertain the possibility for so long. She wanted out.

Books went into boxes, clothes went into bags. She kept the necessities and valuables and split the rest between donations and sales. Moving before had always been a chore, something she did when there was nothing or no one left for her in a too-quiet house. But this time… this time was rejuvenating. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was her love-sick mind. Either way, Feyre had never emptied her living quarters more quickly.

She wouldn’t lie and say there weren’t any doubts. After the way she left, she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up rejected and homeless after moving out. But at least her sisters had extended an olive branch over the past year, flimsy as it was.

It was true; the doubt crept up on her like a stalker in the night, an insecurity she had become all too companionable with over the years. The best she could do in the most recent cases, in cases where panic seized her and her body froze as still as ice, was to recall the different shades of blue visible in Rhys’ eyes.

It always began with violet, but ended with a myriad of different shades, hues, and tints. Periwinkle, indigo, plum, steel… 

Reciting colors was therapeutic; picturing his eyes was a comfort, even if slightly masochistic. There was no guarantee her plan would “sort itself out” as she told herself it would, nor was there any promise that he hadn’t moved on after the little stunt she pulled. As she stuffed her bags into the boot of a taxi, she reassured herself that no matter what, she would keep the new promise she made to herself.

The fourth time Feyre arrived in Velaris, she was there to stay. She had an air of finality about her, walking with a newfound confidence as she navigated through ice and snow towards a series of townhouses. If you were to stop her on the street for a chat, you would never guess there was a hurricane of fears and doubts wearing through her mind. You wouldn’t be able to tell she had been crying for hours on end before catching the train. You would simply see a woman - a tourist on vacation, perhaps, exploring what the world has to offer. There were few guesses further off the mark. She knew what she wanted, and she was there to get it.

***

Rhysand Moreno had always been a different type of child. Yes, he was mischievous and hellbent on causing trouble like many others his age. Yes, his favorite thing was to wreak havoc anytime the opportunity arose. But he also had a heart bigger than most people could comprehend. He had the wisdom of an old soul - of someone who understood the complexities of life.

It was because of this that Rhysand found the two boys he would eventually come to call brothers. It was because of this that when his cousin came to live with them, weepy and afraid and quiet, he took the time to sit with her in silence, reading books and sharing toys. It was because of this that Rhys never shied away from showing affection for those he loved. And it was because of this that when Feyre Archeron left him alone on a cold New Year’s morning, his heart hurt more than it ever had before.

I’m in love with you. She had never said it back. And now Rhysand was left waiting, wondering. He had tried calling her, texting her, emailing her. He even sent a letter, but it had been returned to him in no time, marked “Nonexistent Address”. He had nearly given up.

His mother had tried to help, asking him to come into the shop for company more often. His sister had asked to spend more time with him. Even his father had tried to spend “quality” time with him at a golf range. Rhys didn’t like golf. Mor and his brothers had taken him for drinks, and Cassian had roughed it out with him at the gym multiple nights in a row.

The point being: they all knew something was up. Rhys never said anything, but maybe that was more meaningful; the fact that he hadn’t said a word about the woman he had been head-over-heels for was most telling.

That was how he found himself at the counter of his mother’s shop after hours - the exact place he and Feyre had met - trying to distract himself with campaign plans and city laws.

“Sweetie,” His mom stepped from her workroom, the lights shut off and the supplies put away. “I’m all done for tonight. Would you like to come home with me? Have dinner with us? Your father was asking about you this morning.”

“That’s okay ma,” He gathered his papers, sorting and filing them for later use. “It’s late, I think I’ll just have something at my place.”

Her smile was sweet and concerned, and it made Rhys’ heart twinge with guilt. She patted his cheek, the gesture familiar and soft. “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah,” He kissed her forehead. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

They stepped out into the beginnings of a blizzard and made it to their separate cars. Rhys drove home in a daze, one hand at twelve o’clock and the other propping his head up, elbow resting on the door. He didn’t even register the trip; it was like he teleported from his mother’s shop to his home in the wink of an eye. The next thing he knew, he was locking his car doors and turning to head up the front steps. The thin, shivering figure sitting on his porch stopped him dead in his tracks.

***

“Feyre,” He said her name under his breath like a prayer. “What are you- are you really? You’re here…” She thought he was about to drop his things to hug her. She sure hoped he was.

She stood from where she sat on the cold, concrete steps. Her rear had long ago gone numb, and her pants were soaked with melted ice and snow. “I am.”

His mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Come inside, it’s cold out here.” He brushed past her, their shoulders bumping. She could smell his soft jasmine, and it made her pulse slow ever so slightly.

Rhys moved about in silence, setting his things down and putting water on for tea as if his body were on autopilot. It wasn’t until Feyre had changed clothes and Rhys had started dinner that he spoke.

“I didn’t think you would come back.” His voice was hoarse, and he kept his eyes on the stove. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I wasn’t sure…” She trailed off, gripping her warm mug. Rhys was patient as she gathered her thoughts.  “I know what I did was… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I did that.”

Rhys turned then, switching the flame off and moving to stand right in front of her. “Then why didn’t you answer my calls? My messages?”

Feyre shrugged. “I was busy, but also- also I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know how. I didn’t know if you’d let me, and I was afraid that you wouldn’t forgive me.”

“You know I could still easily not accept your apology, right?” His words intended to harm, but they were void of any real anger.

“I know.” She looked down where her hands fidgeted with the end of her braid. “But what you said, Rhys… it stuck with me. I know leaving like that was cruel, and I know what I’m doing right now is absolutely insane, but you were right. I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.” She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, finally looking Rhys in the eye. “So I would like to take you up on your offer, if you’re still willing to help me get where I want to be.”

He was silent for a beat, and then, “You’ve never said it.” Rhys didn’t need to specify for Feyre to know what he was talking about.

She should have known this was what truly bothered him, the fact that he gave her a piece of himself so delicate, that he entrusted her with his entire heart, and he had never witnessed her do the same.

“Rhysand,” She savored his name, took the time to appreciate the warmth as it rolled off her tongue. “That’s not true. I say it all the time. I say it to myself on the train ride home, I whisper it when I’m at work and the world feels hopeless.” He moved closer, so close they shared the air between them “It’s the only thing running through my mind when we text back and forth. You’re the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, and I lose myself in fantasies where there is nothing and no one in the world but you and I.” She swallowed thickly, fighting back tears. “I love you, Rhysand. Of course I love you.”

The kiss Rhys swept her into was more than enough of an answer to her earlier question. His hands wandered to the small of her back, beneath the hem of her sweater.

“Three hundred and sixty five days was too long,” His voice was husky. “Fourteen days was too damn long.” He pressed kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her throat. “Three hundred seventy five days was nearly the death of me.” His lips wandered - lower.

“Well it’s a good thing,” Feyre gasped. “That you won’t ever have to wait that long again.”

“Good,” Rhys’ hum reverberated through Feyre, a low rumble that warmed her from head to toe. “Because I am very, very, impatient.”

They used the blizzard as an excuse to not leave the house the next morning, opting instead to lounge about and appreciate each other’s company. Later. There would be time to go over plans and communicate with real estate agents and all of that, later. Because Feyre was staying for good. Right then, in that moment, they put it all aside in favor of celebrating together - keeping each other warm and safe long after the cold spell had passed.

…

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Here is the link to the master list for this fic! Here is my main master list 😊

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

I finally watched episodes 1-4 of Only Friends. I think it’s a show that’s well done, well acted, well directed, pretty, etc. But I don’t like any of these couples. So please feel free to ignore the rest of this while I ramble. I just need to get this out. I do like the show! It’s very entertaining!

And I do like Sand and Ray. But I prefer Ray and Mew. How do they want me to watch Ray calling Mew, crying, to tell him he loves him, seconds away from killing himself, and not expect me to ship them? Insane. And for Mew to say he’ll never abandon Ray, only for Ray to end up drinking in a bathtub again, feeling abandoned. Unforgivable, show. ☹️

Here’s my bad opinions because my brain doesn’t want me to just be happy and enjoy the messy, sexy show, so please don’t take offense or take it too seriously. I swear my brain likes to undermine my enjoyment of television.

Nick is creepy. Looking through his customer’s phone. Wiretapping his FWB’s car. Playing the tape of two people having sex for his roommate. At least he acknowledges that he’s nasty, I guess.

Ton is messing with Ray, Mew, and Top. Mew and Ray are supposed to be his friends. Mew does not deserve that. And I’m not sure how much Ton and Cheum know about Ray almost killing himself, or if they just know he was in a bad place, but if Ton does know, that’s really messed up for him to manipulate Ray like that and open him up to being rejected again if he knows Mew already rejected him once and that Ray is really sensitive to feeling unloveable and like a burden. I do still enjoy watching Ton try to manipulate people, though.

Top gives me such a smarmy feel. I don’t know if he’s supposed to, though. Or if that’s just a me problem. Like it’s hard for me to believe that he really does like Mew, but I think I am supposed to believe that. But the audacity of him telling Mew he has nothing to hide when he just slept with one of Mew’s friends is hilariously awful. And he slept with Ton because of a photo of Mew kissing Ray two years ago. And didn’t even bother to talk to Mew first. Also throwing out one packet of drugs does not mean you’ve quit.

Cheum seems great. Although she was a little pushy with Mew having a boyfriend. But she’s cute with her gf.

Sand, I do love. He’s great. My only issue with him is that he was mad at Ray for leaving to help Mew. Disappointed, sad, let down, that’s understandable. But would you really want to be with someone who prioritizes having sex with you over helping a friend who has nowhere to spend the night? But overall he’s great. And him not like Top is a strike against Top.

Mew, I also love. I don’t get what he sees in Top, though. And in terms of his list of requirements. Ray, yes, did kiss him in his sleep. But he apologized and does feel bad genuinely and he really does respect Mew. He is Mew’s friend and gets along with all his other friends. And I thought the only secret he was keeping was his crush on Mew, but Mew already knew that. So ✔️✔️✔️ Whereas, Top does not respect him, or he would’ve talked to him about Ray before having sex with Ton. Ray hates Top, so as Mew’s most beloved friend, that’s another fail. And he definitely has secrets. So ❌❌❌ So if you want a rich boy, Mew… also of course, Ray was wrong to kiss Mew. But separately from that event, over the past two years, I do think that Mew (and Ton and Cheum) should take more care in general with Ray, knowing his mental health history. I don’t think it’s reasonable of Mew to expect their friendship can be the same as it was, at least until he knows for a fact that Ray has moved on. So I don’t he should be calling Ray his most beloved friend or be as affectionate with Ray or talk to him about how happy he wants Ray to be, knowing how Ray feels. That sucks from Mew’s perspective, but he has to know that’s not helping Ray get over him. That’s just going to make it hurt more when he turns him down again. It’s not Mew’s fault that he feels that way, but Mew shouldn’t expect that nothing will change. But then again, after promising to never abandon him, if Ray and Mew ended up not being as close, I would have murder in my heart. So either way is a lose-lose for me. Also it was cruel of him to say Top is the first person to make his heart tremble. Hon, just say, yep really like him. And it’s not nice of him to keep trying to push Ray on Sand to make himself feel better about not liking Ray back. But more broadly, Mew, Ton, and Cheum go out drinking all the time with their friend who clearly has a drinking problem, and also apparently, a drug addiction and they just pawn him off on each other, knowing he feels like a burden. His mental health isn’t their responsibility, but maybe they could consider inviting Ray to some events that don’t involve drinking and partying once in a while.

And Ray. Ray is my favorite. My poor (in all but money), sad, lonely, lovestruck boy. I adore him. He’s always smiling, but dead inside. He has no one but Mew to be his emergency contact, even though he talks about his dad often. I can’t blame him for loving Mew. He feels like a burden to everyone, thinks everyone hates him, and Mew is over here giving him sun themed keychains and telling him he brings brightness, that he’s a ray of sunshine. How do you not fall in love? And it has to hurt to see that the person Mew is falling for is so much like him, except worse. I think he genuinely likes Sand, too. But I just don’t think it would work. Because he seeks Sand out when he’s upset about Mew. And that’s just not fair to Sand or Ray himself.

In conclusion, I think the best way to go is RayMewSand, even though I just said Ray and Sand wouldn’t work (Mew does seem to pay a lot of attention to Sand, calling him lovely [jealous of not having Ray’s attention perhaps? 🤫]) to make everyone (me) happy. And also TonTop so they don’t inflict their garbage on anyone else. And Nick gets no one because he does have sad eyes, but I draw the line at looking through a customer’s personal photos and masturbating to them to boot.

[gumnut-logic]

A reblog because I was discussing it with a friend. Just a scene from a long ago wip :D @onereyofstarlight

-o-o-o-

He must truly have some kind of sibling radar because there was no way in hell he could have recognised his brother otherwise.

“John?”

“Hey, Virgil.”

And yes, that was a smirk on that face.

He eyed the man from bottom to top. High heeled boots in shiny black leather. Black tights! High cut, buttoned up, deep blue coat sequined in an elaborate filigree with almost ankle length tails. The ends of his sleeves flared out like flowers over leather gloves. And a white silk cravat wrapped his throat with about ten layers of frills.

But all that didn’t live up to the hair. Oh, god, the hair. Gone was the familiar red, replaced with a fountain of silver white, springing in strands from the top of his head like a spray of leafless weeping willow, long enough to reach his chest.

Virgil stared. “Are you wearing makeup?”

The smirk widened and, yes, there was some kind of lip gloss to go with the elaborate eyeshadow arching into his brows.

Blink. “Wh-who are you?”

“Why, my dear child,” and John tapped him on the head with his ornamental riding crop. “I’m the Goblin King.”

Another blink. “Who?” He couldn’t recall ever seeing a goblin who looked quite like that.

And the more familiar John rolled his eyes. “A friend of mine advised me that this would be easier if I made myself completely unrecognisable. She is a fan of old movies, so I picked one.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “She?”

“She.”

“Okay.” He eyed his brother again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

The riding crop nudged him in the belly. “So, who are you supposed to be?”

“Trade secret.”

One of those elaborate eyebrows arched at him.

Virgil pointed back at his room. “Oh, and warning, the terrible two have already been at the candy.”

The Goblin King’s shoulders slumped. “Great.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Virgil looked at his brother again, still a little wary. “Any sign of the royal first born?”

The Goblin King’s mouth quirked sideways. “Same as last year.”

“Again?”

“Yep.”

“Did he at least change the costume?”

John pondered the question. “A little, I think. Remember the spaghetti sauce? Well, apparently the dry cleaners couldn’t get it out so he’s poured some fake blood on it.”

Virgil just stared.

A shrug. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. You know he does this every year. The gladrags even have a poll going to see if he will wear it again.”

“What’s our time frame?”

“Limo is ready. Maybe another fifteen minutes.”

“Give me ten.” And Virgil stalked around his brother and went off in search of another.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy hated the Halloween Charity Ball. Sure, there was always great food and the ladies could sometimes be entertaining, but it was really just a Tracy brother parade for the press. It did good things and Scott was thoroughly behind the money and the humanitarian value of the whole event, that was the only reason it still existed. But after twenty-odd years of the Tracy boys parade, he found no joy in it at all.

The terrible two adored it, totally in their element. Gordon managed to out do himself each year, his costume getting more and more outlandish and elaborate. Alan just seemed to have fun. John hated it even more than Scott and tried desperately every year to get out of it. He even managed it once by breaking his leg, an event that to this day Scott suspected might have been slightly on purpose. So had Dad, and there had been a therapist after that as well...so his brother could attend the following year.

Virgil took it like he took everything, calmly and in his stride. Scott suspected his younger brother did enjoy it, at least in part, but there was a worry factor as well, since the brothers either side of him tended to bleed stress leading up to the event.

Yes, stress, Scott Tracy was stressed. And not because of the costume, but because of standing in for his father, the speech and the damn handshaking and smarmy smiles of rich people, a good percentage of which wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it up and slapped them.

But it was for a good Cause.

And because of the Cause, it was one of the few opportunities the press had access to both the Tracy brothers and the operators of International Rescue. Consequently, they took full advantage.

Scott had faced raging volcanoes with less concern.

There was a knock on his door, but before he could answer, Virgil barrelled in holding a plastic wrapped coat hanger of clothing in his hands. “Take it off, and put this on.”

“What?”

Virgil was staring at his shirt. “There is no way you are wearing that stained monstrosity. You’ll give Grandma a heart attack brought on by shame. You’re wearing this.” And his brother held up the coathanger and unwrapped it.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Strip.”

“Virgil...”

“You are not going as Dracula for the third year in a row.”

“It was perfectly fine last year.”

“Only if you didn’t read the news articles. Which you didn’t because of the quake in Japan, and because I had John hack your tablet.”

“You did what?!”

Virgil sighed. “You didn’t need the crap, Scott. Now shut up and put this on.”

The costume was shoved in his face, the glare of two brown eyes above it punctuating Virgil’s point.

Scott stared at outfit for a moment, reaching out to touch the deep red fabric. An internal sigh. Perhaps Virg was right, and the costume wasn’t too bad. It didn’t have a spaghetti sauce stain on it at least.

He snatched it from his brother. “Fine.”

“Good.”

Virgil turned to leave and it was only then Scott realised what his brother was wearing. “Nice suit? Does Kayo know?”

“Of course.”

“Well, this will be interesting.”

Virgil shrugged. “I kinda liked the idea.”

Scott hung the coat hanger on the back of a chair. “I’m looking forward to Kayo’s interpretation.”

His brother grinned. “Not as much as I am.”

“I bet.” A sigh. “Now get out of here. I’ll see you in the car.”

“Will do. And Scott...” He looked up to see his brother giving him a sympathetic smile. “See you for a beer on the balcony tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

His elegantly dressed brother left him staring at his new costume.

Man, that was a lot of leather.

-o-o-o-

[sbtb22]

Main Cast an Characters

Zack Morris (played by Mark-Paul Gosselaar) - Zack is the main protagonist of Saved by the Bell and the first crush I ever had on a 3-D person. The character of Zack was heavily inspired by Ferris Bueller from the 1986 movie "Ferris Bueller's day off." Both characters are chancers often getting way with things through a combination scheming and pure charm. Another commonality between the characters is their tendency to "break the 4th wall" where the character will look directly at the camera and address the audience. Zack is constantly lying, scheming and making bets, usually to make money or to win the affections of his crush, Kelly Kapowski.

Kelly Kapowski (played by Tiffani Thiessen) - Kelly is the popular, beautiful down to earth girl of your dreams, captain of every sports team, head cheerleader. Ditsy, nice , pretty written to be fallen in love with.

Samuel "Screech" Powers (played by Dustin Diamond) - Screech is Zack's best friend/side kick/minion. Typically 80's geek, obsessed with science and inventing. Socially awkward boy genius type. Dustin Diamond was 11 when he was cast for "Good Morning Miss Bliss" where the other actors were between 14 and 15. This meant that Dustin Diamond was not as far into puberty as the rest of the cast leading to a smaller stature and higher voice, adding to his perceived awkwardness. Casting such a young actor was not intentional and was due to a producer misreading his headshot and thinking he was older. Apparently had the producer known his true age he would not of cast Diamond in the show.

A.C. Slater (played by Mario Lopez) - Slater is a jock who's character was inspired by John Travolta. He is a transfer student and it suggested that he moves around a fair amount due to his dad's station in the army. Zack and Slater are kind of frenemies, fighting over girls an just generally bumping heads. Slater is often be smarmy, cocky and sexist.

Jessie Spano (played by Elizabeth Berkley) - Jessie is a straight A student, liberal and second wave feminist. She has a strong sense of justice and can be a bit neurotic (lol me.) Her and Zack are neighbours and Zack often climbs through her window to hang out in her room. (this happened so much in 90's teen media that as a kid I used to get upset that my room was at the back of my house and not easily accessible so it would be difficult for boys to climb through my window come my teen years)

Lisa Turtle (played by Lark Voorhies) - Lisa is very rich and interested in fashion. Apparently her character was originally written to be a stereotypical jewish-american princess archetype which was reimagined after Lark Voorhies auditioned. Lisa spends most of her time fighting the advances of Screech who has an obsessive crush on her.

Mr. Belding (played by Dennis Haskins) - The school principal, generally cringe and trying to be "hip with the kids." His name come from "Bell-ding" in reference to the shows title.

[chryzure-archive]

💫 😳

probably lanque 😔💔 he’s got that smarmy rich boy energy that makes me want to sock him in the jaw. just once. for fun. i promise i won’t make it hurt TOO much

[sarcasticdolphin]

And another kind of cracky idea for some sort of modern au: (smutty)

Tod is an obscenely rich man engaged in somewhat sketchy stuff. FJ is a smarmy political candidate trying to hit Tod up for donations.

FJ: Calls Tod kind of late a night after a campaign event where Tod didn’t donate.

Tod: Lol I’m kind of busy.

FJ: Meh. Money. [Long obnoxious spiel]

Tod: By busy, I mean that your son is giving me a blowjob.

FJ: *Is shocked and appalled*

Tod: Now that I have your attention. Please do shut up. While your son isn’t actually blowing me (technically true, he’s sucking a hickey into Tod’s neck or something now) I do have company at the moment. *Hangs up on FJ*

FJ *Calls Rudolf*

Rudolf: It’s midnight Dad, I’m busy.

FJ [I’m making sure you are being an upstanding boy, son. type thing]

Tod: *Makes Rudolf moan*

Rudolf: Like I said, busy!

FJ: Be a more respectful son

Rudolf: I’ve had enough of your lectures. If you say one more word I’ll call up that Tod guy you hate and tell him to bend me over the nearest table and ruin me.

FJ: *is shocked and appalled and calls Rudolf’s bluff*

Tod (Audible on Rudolf’s phone) So which table is closer - kitchen or dining room?

Rudolf: Coffee table is closest.

Tod: (Into Rudolf’s phone) Hello again, daddy dearest. You did such an excellent job raising such a _talented_ son. But I suppose I do still need to finish testing him out. *hangs Rudolf’s phone up*

[jbycrs]

[ @pcrfectstorms​ said: “ you were going to leave without saying goodbye? ”  (steve) from question prompts ]

He was stressed enough already.  That was the problem.  That was why he had been sneaking out to begin with; waking up in Steve Harrington’s house and almost gagging- not because of Steve, not really, but the circumstances.

It was waking up in his ex-bully’s house.  The smarmy rich kid’s house.  The guy who used to harass him in a herd.  The pretty boy.  The one person he didn’t feel like he had to lie around because he had been expecting him to bail anyway, so there was no need to pretend, if he was going to be rejected it may as well be because of the truth rather than the walls.  So he’s been more honest with Steve than anyone else, and last night they were together, they were drinking, and Jonathan fell asleep with Steve’s head on his chest.  Nothing else happened.  He wasn’t obliterated, he hadn’t blacked out.  They had fun.  They shared things.  And they had literally slept together.

The problem was that Jonathan knew how it would end.  Platonic or otherwise, he knows it can’t last.  He got too close.  He woke up immediately picturing how Steve would change his tune if he knew the way they had fallen asleep.

He started panicking, stomach twisting, shame making his skin crawl.  His only solace was that he was going to get out of there before anything hit the fan but now, as he’s putting on his shoes, Steve was coming down the stairs to find him.

“I uh...”  His tone says he’s joking- only teasing.  Maybe he didn’t care at all, or he did and was pretending not to.  It doesn’t matter.  Jonathan’s mind had already been racing and his pulse was jumping up to meet it.  He’s losing it.

He’s losing it-

Jonathan straightens, shoulders hunched and both hands clasping over his mouth in case the next gag was more than that.  As if he didn’t have enough reason to be embarrassed already.