#anyone who tells you it's boring and dry is wrong and frankly stupid

[ennaih]

Not Every Film I Watch In 2024

6. Persuasion (1995) -- eleventy-billionth rewatch

and bonus:

[onlyyyariii]

Death Note 6

*******

“I wanted to talk to you about Light.”

She sighs, but opens the door and lets me walk inside, “Of course you do. I hear he’s in love with you. Why don’t you just tell him so he can break my heart already?”

“Tell him? Tell him what?”

“Tell him that you love him too. Don’t be stupid Chinami, I see the way you two look at each other. He will never look at me that way.”

I grab Misas hands and hold them in mine, “Misa, I came here today to tell you that I’m not in love with Light.”

She gasps, “Huh? You aren’t!?”

“Not in the slightest, I actually have feelings for someone else right now.”

“Someone else? Who?”

I look away, blushing, “It’s not important. I just want you to know that I’m not after Light. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”

She smiles, “Thank you Chi. But seriously who do you like?! Now that we aren’t fighting over Light, we can have girl talks, it could be fun.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No, of course not. I will keep it a secret.”

“Fine,” I look down and mumble, “Ryuzaki.”

“What was that Chi? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I have a crush on Ryuzaki!” I exclaim, a bit loud. 

She gasps, “Really!? You guys would be so cute together awwww. So you like the older guys huh?”

I shake my head and laugh, “Misa, it’s only six years.”

“But still! This is so amazing! You need to tell Ryuzaki how you feel! What if he likes you back?”

“I already told him. I was going to talk to him about it this morning when I got up but-“

“What do you mean when you got up? Did he stay over your house?” She looks at me with wide eyes.

“Um yeah. But I guess he left before I woke up.”

“Aw I’m sorry. Now we can go on double dates! Me and Light and you and L! Oh this will be so much fun!”

I regret telling her, but I need her to trust me. Lawliet said she could be the second Kira. If I can keep surveillance on her and Light, that would be amazing. Plus it would be a big help to L.

“I agree, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go back downstairs and meet with the task force. Is that alright?”

Misa scoffs, “They’re boring but you go ahead. Have fun, make sure you get close to Ryuzaki.”

I blush and give her a hug before walking out of the room.

“Ready to go downstairs?”

I jump back holding my chest, “Oh my god Watari! Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, smiling.

“Did you hear all of that?”

“Only some.”

“So the part about me liking L?”

“That is some, yes.”

“Don’t say anything about it okay Watari? I already told him how I feel and he ghosted me this morning.”

“Of course.”

We walk side by side all the way to the elevator. Once we get on, I hold onto the rail on the wall tightly. Elevators are a fear of mine. Just everything about them. The cables could snap at any time and the cart could fall and- my thoughts are cut off as the doors open. Watari walks out calmly while I jump out of the cart.

“The task force is right down there.” He says, pointing to a light at the end of the hall.

“Thank you.”

I walk down the hallway and enter the room. I notice everyone looking at me.

“Um hi?”

“Chinami! You need to leave now.” Light says rushing towards me.

I back away scared, “What-“

“Light get your hands off of her.” Ryuzaki says, not looking in our direction.

“Light what happened?”

“L seems to think that you may be involved with Kira. You might be helping them.”

Tears spring to my eyes, helping Kira? Why would I do such a thing? He told me his real name because he wanted to see if he would die.

“What? Why... why would I do that? Ryuzaki, I-“

“I did not say that. Light is merely upset because of how close we are.”

I look between Light and L. I brush Lights hands off of my arms and walk over to L.

“What did you tell them?” I say, look at the team as well.

“Miss Misora you can’t get mad at Ryuzaki for telling us we-“

“Shut up Aizawa. Ryuzaki what did you tell them!?”

He looks up at me from his crouch on the chair, “I told them of the mere possibility of a romantic relationship between the two of us. Light is upset because he loves you and thinks I’m a bad guy. Chief Yagami is mad at me for making his son upset. Aizawa frankly just doesn’t care. But Matsuda seems heart broken as well.”

I look over to see Matsuda with his head in his hands, sitting by L.

“Ryuzaki, I’m only going to tell you this once. Stuff like that, is private between you and I, until we figure everything out.”

“I just thought that’s what ‘the boys’ talk to each other about. I wasn’t aware I was going to cause such commotion.”

I stand next to L and grab one of his cherry’s off the tray in front of him, “That’s how girls talk, love. Not boys.” I lean down and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll be leaving now, I’m sorry if any of you are upset but this is my life and I can make my own choices.”

I turn around and walk out of the room. Jeez Ryuzaki, you’re going to be the death of me.

“Chinami!”

I turn around to see Light running towards me. He grabs my arm and pulls me towards him. I gasp as his lips touch mine. What- he holds his hands in my hair and moves his lips against mine. He pulls away after I don’t reciprocate.

“Chinami, Ryuzaki is right. I do love you. I can’t be happy with Misa. I want you Chi. It’s Ryuzaki or me.”

I watch as he turns around and runs back into the building. What just happened? I don’t know how long I had been standing outside for before it started raining. Since I exited the back of the building, no one came out even after the task force is usually done.

“Chi, is that you?”

I turn around quickly, water flying in all directions. Watari is staring at me.

“Oh, Chi let’s get you some warm clothes.”

I nod and let Watari guide me into the building. He guides me to this room where L is sitting on a couch by a coffee table.

“Watari I-,” he gasps, “Chinami! Are you alright?” He comes over and wraps his arms around me.

“D-Don’t hug m-me. I’m w..wet.”

“Chi we thought you went home.”

“I was going to but...” did I want to tell him about Light?

“Whatever, never mind that. Let me get the bath turned on for you. Watari, can you run Chinami a warm bath?”

“Of course sir.”

“Thank you,” he says, turning back towards me, “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“Thank y-you.”

I sit down on the couch and watch as he pulls out a white shirt from his drawer. He glances back at me.

“Uh I don’t think my pants would fit you but I could-“

“No, it’s fine.”

Watari walks out of the bathroom, “The bath is ready for you, Ms Misora.”

“Thank you Watari.” I say, standing up and kissing his cheek.

I grab the shirt from L’s hand and kiss his cheek as well, “I’ll be back shortly.”

I take my time in bath as I let the warm water, warm up my cold body. When I feel ready, I hop out of the tub and dry off. I put my undergarments back on before pulling L’s shirt over my head.

“Chinami, are you alright?” I hear Ryuzaki say, lightly knocking on the door.

“Yes, I’ll be right out.” I brush through my hair with my fingers.

I open the door to see Ryuzaki standing there in awe. He looks shocked. I look down and then back up at him.

“Is... is something wrong?”

“Um no, nothing at all.” He blushes and turns away.

“Ry- Lawliet you don’t have to be shy with me. I love you, you can speak your mind.”

“Well I just, you look different is all.”

“Oh,” I respond, looking down, “a bad different?”

He looks up his eyes wide again, “Um no! Not at all, you um you look gorgeous actually.”

“Oh,” I blush and walk past him, “thank you. Um, where do you want me to sleep? I could take the couch uh...”

“No definitely not, Watari agreed to getting you situated into a room so you could have privacy and-“

“No,” I shout, interrupting him, “um I wanted to stay with you...”

“Oh,” he says, blushing, “sure. Just like-“

“Just like last night.” I say before he has the chance to finish.

He looks up at me and smiles, “Yeah, of course.”

We both lay down together, I lay my head on Ryu’s chest as he lays on his back.

“I like being like this with you Lawliet.”

I don’t hear anything from him so I look up, his eyes are filled with tears.

“Lawliet, are you okay?” I lean up on an elbow and run my fingers through his hair.

“I love you Chinami. Really, truly love you.”

I smile and lay my head back on his chest, “Yeah, I love you too Lawliet.”

*******

Sorry it took me so long to get this out 😔 I was really busy these past few days. Love y’all!

Tag list: @grantzarrr @dolan-habits @blindedbythelightt

[puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig]

If You Want To Get Warm You Must Stand Near The Fire (Parts 8 & 9)

Warnings: Angst (most of it mine :P)

Very Important Note: I have been staring at this for hours and days. I hate, hate, hate, writing sex scenes. I just feel so awkward doing it, and I hate it, because I want Hope and Guy to make beautiful love :( If anyone wants to write them for me, I will be grateful, give you credit, send you puppies, or whatever else you ask. For now, after spending hours reading other people’s erotica trying to breathe some life to my fossilised imagination, I’m just going ahead and posting this. I’m not tagging anyone this time, because frankly I’m too embarrassed and cross at myself that I can’t even do this in the privacy of my own mind. If you think it’s not completely cringe worthy, throw me a comment or a reblog. I promise I’ll try to get over myself and tag people next time. Ok you’ve all been encouraging nd lovely so I will stop being a giant infant and tag people for this too. Thanks, and sorry if I seemed to be high maintenance compliment-fishing!

After that day, Hope was amazed to see a side to Guy that she never expected. That night he showed up in her bedroom, smiling like the cat that got the cream; she moved to make space for him and he spent the night draped over her, much to the disgust of Falkor, who had been displaced to the foot of the bed. He did the same again the next night, and the next, and it quickly became a routine.

During the day they would potter along companionably, Guy slowly exploring and learning more about how everything worked. Hope had imagined that he would have a hard time with a lot of modern concepts and inventions, but to her surprise and relief, Guy was stoically accepting of most things. It seemed like, once he had fixed in his mind the fact that this was the year 2020, he just expected that a lot of things would not make sense. Guy, thought Hope, was the most practical man she’d ever met. He was far from unintelligent, but surrounded with all this newness, he didn’t bother with the how and why -he just methodically collected every new skill she showed him and moved on to the next one.

She also discovered that he had a really dry sense of humour, when he let himself show it. He had this habit of looking up for a reaction when he made a joke -Guy was a man who liked an audience, Hope was realising.

He never offered her any words of affection during the days, although in unspoken ways he was behaving very differently than he had before.

From being stiff and distant he became surprisingly tactile, always touching her back, running a hand down her arms, breathing in her ear... Then, every evening, they got in the same bed, had sex, and slept holding each other through the night.

It was a fragile equilibrium, and Hope was finding herself holding her breath. She was very aware that things couldn’t stay like this for too long. One way or another, Guy would have to move on soon.

Chapter 9

One evening, Hope was sitting up in bed with Guy’s head on her lap. She was ostensibly reading a book, but in reality kept peering over the top at his eyelashes casting a shadow on his pale cheeks, his long nose, his thin, clever lips. He was drowsy, looking relaxed, but his fingers kept dancing just under the hem of her shirt.

I’m getting too attached... she thought to herself.

He’s not some stray you can adopt, Poppet, Gran’s voice was in her head again, spelling out her thoughts like she had when she was alive. Hope sighed, and closed her book.

“Guy?”

“Mmmmm?”

“Sing me a song...”

“Mmm.” His fingers travelling higher, playing with her breast. “There are better ways to pass the time.”

“Come on, sing me a song!”

Amused, she flicked his nose, and he glared at her.

“I’m not a minstrel!”

“And I’m not Freddie Mercury, but you still got me to sing.”

“Ah, but that was for your own good.”

“So is this. I’m getting bored, I might leave in a minute,” she teased him.

“I don’t know any songs,” Guy groaned, then gave up when Hope pretended to be getting up.

“Paura pichona,

Perqué plorar?

Lo niu d'ironda

Va s'envolar.

Paura pichona,

Cal pas plorar,

Ambe l'aureta

Lo niu vendrà.

Paura pichona,

Consòla-te,

Lo niu d'ironda

Tornarà ben.”

“That’s lovely,” breathed Hope. “What is it?”

Guy blinked. “It’s a lullaby,” he said, “my mother used to sing it. I didn’t think I’d remember it.”

“What language is that?”

“Occitan. My mother was French.”

“Tell me about your life, before,” Hoped asked him, and Guy was torn. On the one hand, having someone want to get to know him better was a very nice feeling, and not one he was accustomed to. On the other hand he really didn’t feel like going back, even just in his mind. What good could possibly come from it? Everything he had worked for all these years was gone, and all that was left was the taint.

He compromised by shrugging and keeping it short. “Not much to tell. I worked for the Sheriff for years, ran things for him. I was...” (Feared? Loathed?) “...respected,” was what he settled on.

“Do you want to go back?” Hope hated how needy she sounded, but she couldn’t help herself. Don’t go back...

Guy shook his head. “No. Things got... bad. There’s nothing left for me there.” There really isn’t, he thought bitterly. All these years of putting up with Vaisey’s whims and humiliations, all the bits of himself he had had to amputate and shed in the process of rebuilding the Gisborne name and fortune, and there was nothing to show for it all.

“No... family?”

“No.” None to speak of...

Guy had had enough of these questions, now. What difference did it make, picking at the past like a scab? He had lost everything and had to start from scratch before, and, although he would never have chosen it, it appeared he had to do the same again. So be it. Guy was surprised to find the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should have. All the ambition that drove him for so many years had been burnt away, turned to ashes in the blaze that was Marian’s death, and in its place a need for revenge had grown like a twisted, blackened tree that had survived a forest fire. But now, after being away for just a few days, his appetite for revenge had left him. Let Isabella have Nottingham, let Hood have Sherwood. They could kill each other, for all he cared, he was done. I want to stay here... With Hope, Guy realised. Why not? He liked being around her, she had the means to help him, and she responded to him in a way that was very... flattering. She sure as hell was a better choice of someone to throw his lot in with, than Vaisey had been, Guy knew.

No one would accuse him of having a poet’s soul, but Hope reminded him of the sun-drenched fields in France. She reminded him of the Earth. She was generous, and nurturing, and warm, and vast, and heavy, and, Guy thought, she grounded him.

“Your turn,” he said, changing the subject. “And none of those songs about the men you killed.”

Hope giggled. “I’ve told you, that was Freddie Mercury. We’ve got to do something about your musical education.”

“Now seems a good time to start!”

“Right, ok...” Hope scrunched her forehead, trying to think of a song. “I know, this is one my dad used to sing to me when I was a teenager and got in a strop.

#In the crazy world

Anything can happen

If you will it to

I'm just a hazy girl

Blurring all the edges

Only seeing blue

It's a wild hope

A wild hope

A wild hope

Everything will be alright.”

“Wild Hope, hmmm?” Guy murmured against her neck. “I’d like to hear more about that...”

Guy is back in Locksley, about to get married.

“Are you married, Thornton?”

“I was. She died, years ago.”

“Did your wife... understand you?”

“I’d like to think so, yes.” The old servant’s kindly face twists into a mocking parody of itself. “We were both human, you see. So we could understand each other. No one understands you... because there is no humanity left in you, is there, Gisborne? No heart... Just the howling void.

Don’t look inside you Gisborne. You know what they say happens, when you look into the abyss... It looks back.”

Thornton’s face twists again, morphing into Vaisey.

“Lepers, Gisborne... You were always running after lepers. I wonder why that is, hmmm? Could it be -rot calling to rot? Like father, like son, eh?”

Maggots are squirming out of Vaisey’s eyes now, he smiles widely and his jeweled tooth winks at Guy. “My boy...” The Sheriff leans close, his carrion breath stroking Guy’s face like a promise. “I made you. I know you...”

“Nooooo...”

“What is it, Guy?” It’s Marian’s voice, and he opens his eyes and sees her smiling, looking down at him. “It’s just a nightmare, it’s not real.” She strokes his forehead with her cool fingers, and pulls up the blankets, tucking him in.

“It’s not real, none of it was ever real, you stupid boy... Only the sand, the sand is real and it gets COLD, Guy, I’m COLD, it’s COLD where you sent me.”

And the floor turns to sand, the bed turns to sand, it’s in Guy’s mouth, in his nostrils, and everything goes dark.

“Paura pichona,

Consòla-te,

Lo niu d'ironda

Tornarà ben.”

“Mother? I destroyed everything, mother...”

“Shhhh, Fiéu mèus. It’s fine. Nothing is destroyed, just changing. Lo niu tornarà ben, remember.

Look, the door is open. Go out in the sun for a bit, it will do you good.”

# It’s a wild hope,

A wild hope,#

“-everyone deserves to be loved-“

#A wild hope,

Everything will be alright.#

Hope started awake in the middle of the night. Guy was kicking her, tangled in the covers, obviously having a nightmare. She reached over to turn the bedside light on, intending to wake him up, but then he suddenly sat up, calling out her name.

“Hope!”

“Shhh... I’m here.”

Before Hope could ask what was wrong, Guy was on her like a starving man, kissing her desperately, cupping her breasts, pressing against her like he was trying to bury his whole self inside her. He was holding her so tightly that it was almost hurting her, but Hope couldn’t bring herself to care. Something had changed. Guy’s teeth and tongue were all over her, and Hope could feel him tremble. She had never realised how much he held back every other time she’d been with him. Instinctively, she put her hands on his face and kissed him back, keeping her eyes on his. She just felt like, more than anything else, he needed to be seen..

Guy pulled his head back and looked at her. His pupils were so dilated that his blue eyes looked almost black.

“Tell me you want to be with me,” he begged.

“I want to be with you.”

He moaned and reached between her legs, pulled her underwear aside and pushed inside her.

“Say it again.”

“I want to - Oh! - I want to be with you. I want you to stay with me. Guy! I love you...”

He rained kisses all over her face, thrusting, and it was all over so quickly; but that felt right, too. She stroked his face and kissed him, and Guy stared at her, lost for words.

“Hope... You deserve to be loved. I don’t know that there’s enough good left in me to do that.”

She kissed him again, and spoke his words back to him. “Hush. I know it’s hard. But it hurts more if you fight it.”

Notes:

*The Occitan lullaby is this one: https://www.mamalisa.com/?t=es&p=3877

Can’t say I’m sure how old it is, but I’m sure Ghislaine would have sung something similar.

*The song Hope sings is Wild Hope, by Mandy Moore.

*Fiéu mèus: my son

Lo niu tornarà ben: The nest will come back again.

Tagging: @whofriend @moony-artnstuff @fizzyxcustard @tigereyesf @guylty @xxbyimm @dumbassunderthemountain @aspookybunny @patanghill17 @ruthoakenshield

[lurafita]

SIM Tony x Peter, part two

I’ll warn you all upfront, I haven’t gotten any better at writing smut, and this chapter has zero. Actually, this chapter doesn’t even have Peter in it. It’s just a lot of introspection into Tony’s character and how I envision he could slowly slip into SIM-mode. You will likely find this pretty boring.

If you are still willing to read, however, THANK YOU VERY MUCH AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

Read the first part here: part 1

SIM Tony x Peter, part 2

He had drunken himself into a stupor after Peter had left first the living room, and then the tower.

Alcohol had always been one of his vices, and admittedly not the greatest coping mechanism. However, no matter how truly stupid, and sometimes even abhorrent, he behaved under its influence, the morning after often brought with it a new insight and understanding for his problems.

As well as a headache. Jesus!

“Jarvis, hangover protocol.” He rasped at the ceiling.

The A.I. complied immediately with the demand, lowering the shutters on every window to dim the natural light in the penthouse, and started the coffee maker in the kitchen.

“You should find some Tylenol in your bedside drawer, Sir.”

Tony blindly grabbed for the bottle after prying the drawer open, and swallowed two pills dry.

“Should I order you breakfast, or would you prefer to further endanger your health by ignoring your basic bodily needs, as usual?”

The billionaire let out a long and tormented groan as he got up from his bed (for which he mentally patted himself on the back. It wasn't often that his intoxicated mind managed to get his drunk ass into an actual bed, before he passed out)

“Remind me to program the sass out of you later, J.”

He wouldn't

“Certainly, Sir.”

Tony slowly made his way across the room, already able to smell the godly brew that was coffee.

“And that's a no for breakfast. But remind me in a few hours to order something hearty from that one restaurant I like. I'm starting on a new project, and I probably shouldn't 'endanger my health' – as you put it – too much before I get to finish it.”

The coffee was too hot and too strong and exactly what the genius needed right then.

“A new project, Sir? Does this have anything to do with Mr. Parker's visit and subsequent departure yesterday? I should caution you on making any rash decisions. Research shows that people are very susceptible to such upon experiencing rejection.”

Tony winced at that, but blamed it on the temperature of the coffee.

“Okay, J, one: we are not calling it a rejection. Peter loves me, he is just too worried that something might happen to me, if we started a relationship. That's not rejection; that's fear. Two: while this may seem rash, my new project is possibly one of the sanest, safest, and best decisions I have made in my life.”

Which Tony actually believed to be true.

No matter how much he wanted to be angry at Peter for the younger man's unwillingness to take that step with Tony, he couldn't.

Peter's rejection (god how he hated that word) might have been a fear based response, but it wasn't a groundless one. Everything Peter had said last night was the truth.

His enemies were deranged and obsessed with making Spiderman suffer.

Tony was vulnerable without the suit, and there had been instances when his technology had either malfunctioned due to outside tampering, or he himself hadn't been aware of any danger or not fast enough to activate his suit.

The losses Peter had suffered due to his superhero alter ego, had left the younger man scarred and traumatized, and Tony could hardly fault him for that.

Arriving in her personal lab (a space he usually loved to share with Peter, but after the events of yesterday evening, the brunette would probably avoid the lab – and the tower as a whole – for a while) Tony had narrowed down three major obstacles that stood in the way of him and his love.

The first was his suit.

Peter was right. Technology wasn't infallible, and Iron Man was due for an upgrade anyway. For years now, Tony Stark had spearheaded any advancements there were in the field of engineering. It was time to take the next step.

A press of a button and a command typed into his holographic interface, brought up the specs of all of his suits. From the clunky and uncomfortable Mark 1, to the sleek nano-technology Mark 75.

The second problem, was the fragility of his human body.

There would be no point in creating the perfect Iron Man suit, if he fell victim to things like illness, infection, or senility. The age difference between him and Peter was another sore spot. Meeting and falling for the Spiderling when Tony had already been in his late 40's was bad luck, because it would leave them with that much less time to spend with each other. Bruce and Peter, both sharing an interest in the sciences dealing with biology, cross species dynamics and mutations, had figured out that the spider bite that had given Peter his powers, had also slowed down the rate of cell decay in his body. They had estimated that the brunette would likely live way past a hundred years. Which meant that he deserved far more than the maybe 30 to 40 years that Tony still had in him. If Tony wanted to be with his Baby Boy for as long as possible, the too short human lifespan was a hurdle that needed to be overcome.

More tapping on the holographic keyboard opened up all the files he had on the Extremis virus. The genius had isolated the cause of it's recipients exploding two years ago, and fixed it. The only reason he hadn't utilized the new and improved Extremis sooner, was that it was one of those 'too powerful for humanity' things, that morally uptight people like Rogers would frown upon. Also, he hadn't felt that he needed it, placing far more trust and value into his suits. Just goes to show, doesn't it? Even Tony Stark was wrong sometimes.

The third major stepping stone were Spiderman's villains.

This was both the easiest and hardest to fix. The easiest way (and quite frankly the one Tony himself would prefer) was to kill them. Again, Peter was right. It didn't matter how many times the spider-themed hero beat them and handed them over into Shield custody, they always found a way out of their imprisonment. And as soon as they did, their main goal was to make Peter pay.

However, Tony also understood why Peter could never bring himself (or allow anyone else) to eliminate them for good.

Harry had been his best friend since childhood, Conners and Octavius had been mentors, and Eddie Brock had been a pseudo older brother. And even disregarding the personal feelings and history that bound Peter to each man, non of them were technically evil.

Harry had been a terminally ill teenager, hoping to escape his father's fate. The serum he had thought would cure him, had molded and messed up his body and mind, akin to someone who had been drugged or brainwashed.

Conners and Octavius had been decent, even honorable, men, who had sought to use their intelligence and research to help people in need. It had backfired and, as with Harry, twisted their minds, and in Conners case, mutated his body.

Brock had simply been unfortunate to be so compatible with the symbiote that Spiderman had managed to resist and fight off. Being bonded to Venom so thoroughly had changed the man.

The fact that each of the four knew who Spiderman was underneath the mask, but had never shared that information with anyone else, had manifested the believe in Peter that somewhere, deep down, their original, good, selves were still alive. That there was still hope for reversing the transformations, restoring them to the men they used to be.

And while Tony thought it naive, he also understood. After all, it was this penchant to hope where others would have long given up, this forgiveness and purity, that had attracted him to Peter in the first place, when they had just gotten to know each other years ago.

So, no. Tony could never make Peter change his stance on his 'No killing' policy, and he didn't want to.

But neither did he want for his love to keep being haunted by the people who had, if anyone were to ask Tony, lost their right to a second chance long, long ago.

Which meant that Tony would just have to deal with them himself.

More holograms popped up, this time displaying all the information that had been gathered on Doctor Octopus, the Lizard, Green Goblin and Venom. Tony zoomed in on the black alien parasite.

And he knew just where to start.

_______________________________________

I thank you all very much for reading and hope you have a wonderful day. Remeber to drink enough water and give yourself frequent breaks if you start getting stressed. Be fair to yourself and treat yourself with kindness, as you deserve no less. Find at least one thing to truly smile about today (and every other day). Also, never be too hard on yourself should you fail at something. Nobody is perfect, and it is often through defeat, that we learn how to overcome many of life’s difficulties.

Tagging: I simply always tag anyone who commented on the last chapter, if you don’t want to be tagged, drop me a quick message, please.

@sassy-starker @momobaby227 @retroxvailles @grimalkinmessor @bbalienbae @deliciousflapbanditfarm @starkersenses @kirakishou @von--gelmini @kaddiisarat

Kaddiisarat for some reason didn’t work? I’m really sorry honey, I tried!

Please tell me if I forgot anyone!

[felix-tee]

finders keepers | mink + fee

@kidrebelmink‌:

The weather was sort of nice today, meaning there was no rain and the overhanging clouds didn’t seem to offer any rain for the rest of the day either. If you looked well enough, you might see some sunshine once in a while pull through the grey clouds. Meaning a training session outside could be welcomed by all, or at least Mink was looking forward to some chucks of wind brushing through their hair, pulled at the short strands, having the sweat dry up under the edgy cold of a January season. Nothing wrong with a little cold.

The trainer had them walk a couple of laps in order to heat up, and Mink had been feeling extremely feisty that morning, being called back a couple of times whenever they pushed through into a sprint. That wasn’t the goal of the exercise. It didn’t hold Mink back however, they felt a surge of energy pick up and had to act on it. Their whole body felt like it was bursting with energy, wanting to run, fight, jump, whatever the trainer had in store for them.

After ten laps, which Mink finished first, the trainer teamed them up based on quality, and told them to work on their offense and defense poses. That part of training seemed even harder to Mink, because poses meant not really attacking other people, nor going all out. It meant holding back. And they were getting extremely irritated by holding back. Didn’t help that their opponent was someone they really wanted to smash. The other, probably noticing how Mink was jumping around on their spot, taunted them whenever it was their turn to attack. Saying things like “boy” or “girl”, which Mink hated, and telling them that they hit like a “girl”, which in itself was a stupid taunt, but the fact that the person had the audacity to assume their gender was a hateful thing.

Mink eventually, thinking the trainer wasn’t watching, made their move on their opponent, coming out of nowhere after having placed themselves in a defensive position, to attack the other straight on. Bending their stance a little so the put the other off guard, making use of the other’s sudden open pose, and swinging a fist into the other’s belly. Watching with great enjoyment how the person doubled over and fell to the ground.

Not a smart move however, the trainer shouted at them from a distance and told them to take a time out, sit at the bleachers until the end of training. Fuck! Mink threw the trainer a middle finger when they weren’t looking, and fuming, they made their way to the stupid benches.

To their surprise, they weren’t the only person who had to sit there, or at least they figured as much. Some youngster with blonde hair had taken a seat on the bleachers as well, he wore a pretty cool jacket, with flowers in different colors. They recognized it as a jacket that they also owned that exact jacket.

Still fuming, Mink sat down a little away from the other, looking up, studying him momentarily. “That’s a freaking awesome jacket.” They said, forcing themself not to look down, because from the corner of their eye they could see their opponent looking up with a grin. There was a little suspicion in their voice, as they studied the other. “I have the same one, but I lost it a couple days ago.”

@felix-tee

From behind a set of oversized, Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses, Felix sat chewing rather flavourless bubble gum on the bleachers like some kind of high school dramedy cliché. With his legs neatly and tightly crossed, his propped up ankle shook in an absent but consistent rhythm: he was bored. Restless. But he was also smug. 

He didn’t particularly want to be there—even back in grade school he’d had very little interest in watching or participating in the hype of team sports. In fact, the only thing that ever did put him in the stands a time or two had been when he’d either been there on the arm of a pretty and popular boy, who’d later try (try being the operative word) to get Felix out of his daks in the locker rooms, or because he’d simply wanted to soak in the view of jocks getting muddy and taking off their shirts at half time—that’s what they called it right? Half time? To be honest, if that was right, it was a lucky fucking guess. No matter the reason Felix had ever had to put him at one of those games, none of them had ever been for the sake of learning anything about the sport, or paying any kind of real attention.

But now he was smug, because he got to sit on the sidelines looking cute as fuck, if he did say so himself, and simply observe while everyone else was killing themselves over relays or circuits or... whatever the poor sods were doing. He sort of felt sorry for them. But not sorry enough to stop him from feeling a little triumphant that he was up here, smelling of tangy summer eau de parfume and they were down there smelling like... that. Of course, he couldn’t smell much at all from this vantage point other than salt water and seaweed carried up on the wind from the rocks below, but his nose crinkled just at the thought. He did, after all, have a very active and capable imagination. 

But Cambie has specifically told him that until further notice, he wouldn’t have to participate, and as soon as she got approval through the ‘correct avenues’—whatever that meant—they’d be able start their one on one dance training. Honestly, Felix doesn’t like to show too much enthusiasm for anything that someone of authority is offering to him, because it sort of puts him at risk of getting lazy and simply going along with rules or expectations, instead of making a fuss to get exactly what wants and how he wants it—and even if it’s a delicate, passive-aggressive fuss, he’d always rather make at least something of one, because getting too complacent was dangerous. It could mean that his standards were lowering, and that was a very slippery slope to find oneself on. One minute you’re at the top of the social food chain, and the next you’re making friends with the rejects and the lunch lady, wearing—shiver—knock off brand hand-me-downs and letting yourself physically and hygienically go. 

God, if he had any motivation at all to make even a single close friend (or fan) here, the leading one might strictly be so that he had someone to stab him in the throat if he ever let himself become one of those un-self-respecting bogans. Ugh, just... ew. 

So he made an effort to keep himself and his eagerness for Cambie’s plan both respectable and in check. He showed her enough sweet, angelic appreciation to encourage her to follow through with the whole thing, but monitored just how grateful he was, because he didn’t want to wind up in a position where she was the one holding all the power. She was only meant to think she was. 

Unfortunately, the truth of it was that he was already quite fond of Cambie. And he was genuindely very excited about the idea of dancing again. Like really dancing. With structure and a goal, and a purpose—and hell, a partner to do it with him. As self absorbed as he was, he had to admit it was more fun to share those kinds of things with other people—even if it was just so someone else was there to praise him and tell him what beautiful, impressive work he was doing. He knew that, of course, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like to also hear it confirmed.

But he was still waiting to hear from Cambie regarding setting up the dance sessions, and he didn’t really have too many friends to reach out to yet to keep his time filled, so for now he used the glaringly open block to sit perched in the stands watching everyone else suffer. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. But he found lying pretty easy, so—he’d be happy to tell you what you whatever you wanted to hear about his current mood, one way or another. 

The cherry on the cake, however, was that he’d found this fabulous floral jacket. It was a bright print of cherry reds, sunshine yellows and lime greens—there was even a hit of vibrant fuchsias in the daring and delightful petal-like design. Frankly, it looked designer, but he couldn’t really tell one way or another because some total drongo had gone and ripped out the label. Ugh, whoever the past owner was, they were clearly a tragedy.

But it’d just been lying over the back of one of the sofas in Delma, and it fit him perfectly. It was just a touch too big, as most things were on Felix, naturally, but that was also the ideal fit for the style. He didn’t know who it had belonged to, but it didn’t have a name in it anywhere, and if the owner had just gone and left something that fetch just lying around, they clearly didn’t appreciate its value, much less deserve it for themselves. Finders were totally keepers, anyway, everybody knew that. 

Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell it looked as good on anyone here as it did on Felix. No offence to the Colony 22 population—there were at least a handful of pretty people worth taking long looks at around here—but he was Felix Turner. It wasn’t like anyone would expect them to compete with the likes of him.

The person who loped over to him then had been the little one causing trouble on the fields a few minutes ago. To be honest, Felix hadn’t been paying much attention to the kerfuffle because he’d been too busy staring at some fit, dark skinned boy running laps in the other direction (who’s brows, by the way, were totally slaying, like wow). But he looked to his new approaching company now, and he was glad he was wearing sunglasses because he could feel his expression running skeptical at first. This person looked.... dirty. And just a little too friendly, considering what he’d just half-witnessed on the field. It made Felix think this person was a little like a feral cat—unpredictable and possibly diseased. 

Maybe it was too early to judge—but that had never stopped Felix before. 

He blew a thin bubble with his gum. He’d probably been chewing it too long, because it was getting weak and a bit grainy, and the bubbles were barely holding any elasticity. It’d been pretty bad to start with, anyhow. 

With the compliment and the appreciation of his jacket, he was fully prepared to preen, and semi-preparing to like this stranger just a fraction more—but then the words, ‘but I lost it a couple days ago.’ 

Something latched onto Felix’ Adam’s apple uncomfortably, and the little blond faerie of a creature was yet again grateful he was wearing sunnies. He swallowed, kept his tone even, and tried to inject it with just enough positivity to pull off flattered, if a little bored. 

“Oh, thanks. It’s nice isn’t it? Well, clearly you have good taste.” 

[jancys-blue-bayou]

Hi, I just wanted to say that I loved your stuttery Jonathan fic! Do you think we could have a followup fic at some point where it's years later and showing how Jonathan has progressed with Nancy at his side? Maybe even Jonathan asking her to marry him (and some engagement night smut after?) Tysm!

A/N: Thanks for the prompt, it was really fun revisiting this story, I’m so happy people liked it! So here comes 5000 words more on it, though no smut (sorry) because I wanted to keep the rating down.

Also on Ao3 and FFNet (and don’t miss chapter 1 there)!

”Ready for this?” She asks him on the porch to her house.

”Your dad will kill me,” Jonathan deadpans.

”No he won’t. He’d have to go through me first. And mom, frankly. And Holly. Maybe even Mike,” she smiles back.

He’s still nervous around her family, mostly her dad, even though they’ve been together for over a year now. She can’t blame him, really. She thinks of her dad as harmless and to be honest a pretty useless jaded guy with seemingly only a passing interest in his children’s lives. But she gets that his suffocating silence, stony gaze and dry tone puts Jonathan on edge. He’s sure her dad hates him, she herself wouldn’t go that far but it’s hard for her to deny that he at least doesn’t care much for Jonathan. She doesn’t get why, since Jonathan is the best. But then again her dad is the most boring person she knows so maybe it’s natural he doesn’t like the funniest. But to be honest maybe Jonathan’s right in his suspicions that it’s because of his stutter (”he thinks I’m an idiot”) and/or that he’s ”too poor and not good enough for you”.

”Plus, he’ll hear about me being accepted by Columbia first. That’s gotta put even him in a good mood, his eldest being accepted into a great school,” she continues.

”S-sure, but then your mom will ask me and I’ll tell t-them about NYU and then we’ll have to tell them about our plans of l-living together in sin and that’s where I see this going south,” he continues in his slightly sarcastic tone.

”Listen to me,” she begins and puts her hands on either side of his face, drawing him in close. ”Demogorgon. Mind Flayer. My father. We’ve battled well against two, I think we can take the third too.”

That draws a chuckle which is all she wanted. She gives him a kiss before they head inside.

”Oh honey I’m so proud of you!” Her mom positively beams over the dinner table. ”That is wonderful! Congratulations!”

”Thank you,” she smiles.

”Yes, congratulations honey,” her dad says. With… well his voice is at least not completely devoid of emotion for once. ”What happened to Northwestern? Or IU?” He then asks in his ’neutral’ tone which is really not neutral, she knows by now.

”Northwestern was just a backup, Columbia was my first choice. And I didn’t apply to IU,” she calmly explains.

”Hm. Nothing wrong with IU. I went there, you know.”

”I know, I never said there were? I wanted to go to Columbia, and I got in!”

”Yes, that’s great.”

”It is great! So great,” her mom chimes in. ”We’re so proud of you honey.”

”Yeah, congrats I guess,” Mike butts in using his patented I-don’t-really-care-that-much tone.

”Thanks,” she says again.

”Oh Jonathan, how about you then? Heard anything?” Her mom turns to Jonathan with a smile. She grabs his hand under the table for support.

”Oh, y-yes actually. I g-got into NYU,” he answers with a polite smile.

”Oh congratulations! That’s great! Oh Joyce must be so proud, as she should be!”

”She is,” Jonathan smiles.

”So, Tisch?” Mike asks.

”Yeah.”

”Cool. Congrats.”

”T-thanks.”

”Well, congratulations,” her father says, curtly.

”T-thank y-you,” Jonathan politely answers and she gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

”So, New York,” her father continues in a short tone.

”Yes,” she answers. ”We’ll both be in New York, isn’t it great?” She throws out there, gauging the reaction.

”Of course it is,” her mom smiles. Her dad just gives off a grunt.

”We think we’re gonna try and find an apartment together, off-campus. Cheaper, plus we’d just constantly be in each other’s dorm anyway,” she ploughs on now that she’s started. She can feel Jonathan grow more nervous. For real, his knee’s touching her knee and he’s tapping his foot like he does when he’s anxious, she can feel.

”That sounds lovely,” her mom continues to be enthusiastic, which is no surprise. She adores Jonathan. Her dad just grunts in response again but then opens his mouth.

”You know, you shouldn’t pick your college just because of a boy.”

”What? I’m not!” She’s flabbergasted by his take.

”Really? Seems to me there’s a lot colleges you could go to, but you’re set on the one that happens to be in the same city as his.”

”Now, Ted…” her mom admonishes.

”T-that’s n-not h-how it h-happened,” Jonathan says, nervously but right to her dad’s face. His stutter has really become much better in the last year, but it becomes prominent when people make him nervous or anxious.

”I’m going to Columbia because I want to become a journalist and they’re the best at that! Don’t you listen?”

”Hm. Just seems like you’ve already made all these plans together. Hm. Just saying, high school romances are all well and good but they don’t usually last now do they?” Her dad bluntly continues and she’s exasperated.

”W-with all d-due r-respect Mr. Wheeler,” Jonathan starts instead, and ignores all eyes, including her dad’s condescending gaze, falling on him and powers forward. ”T-that’s a p-pretty stupid n-notion.”

”Excuse me?” Her dad challenges and glares at Jonathan.

”N-nance is g-gonna be the b-best j-jou-journalist in the w-world and that’s why she’s g-going to C-columbia. She told you s-so. She d-didn’t pick it for me.”

Her dad scoffs condescendingly at Jonathan’s stutter. She has to hold herself back from going at him for it. It infuriates her. But Jonathan ignores it and just continues.

”A-a-and… I l-love Nancy and t-this,” he gestures between them, ”i-isn’t just a high school th-thing and i-it wouldn’t end just b-because of d-dis-dis-…” he’s heated and gets stuck on the word so she squeezes his hand again and jumps in before her father can with more condescending bullshit.

”Distance, it wouldn’t matter if we went to college in different cities, I love Jonathan and he loves me and that’s what matters and thankfully it just so happens that our dreams happen to match up nicely like this which is great, why can’t you just be happy for us?!”

Her dad has no response to that. She’s had it, she’s done with this. She gets up from the table and Jonathan follows. With his hand clutched in hers she marches out to the hall with him right behind her. They can hear her mom giving her dad some choice words and then come their way. They halt in the doorway.

”Oh you don’t have to leave like this,” her mom pleads.

”Please mom, I just can’t with him tonight,” she pleads in response.

”Oh well. You guys go, enjoy your evening. Ugh, I can’t believe him sometimes. I’ll talk to him. I’m so happy for you, both of you! And I think living together sounds like a great idea!” Her mom responds.

”Thanks,” she says.

”T-thanks. And thanks for d-dinner, it was delicious,” Jonathan adds.

”Oh thank you,” her mom smiles and pulls first Jonathan and then her into hugs.

”Thanks for standing up for me,” she tells him when they’re alone outside, walking in the nice spring evening.

”You’d have done it yourself I just c-couldn’t help myself. Your dad can be a real idiot,” he replies, stutter less noticeable now when it’s just the two of them.

”I know. But anyway, thanks. And screw him, doesn’t matter what he thinks. What matters is this, she tells him and gestures between them like he did earlier.

”Right,” he says and presses a kiss to her temple.

Four years later…

”S-sometimes, people don’t say what they’re r-really thinking.”

Jonathan takes a pause after saying it and looks right at her. She smiles and nods to him. They’ve worked on the speech for weeks. He’s worked on the exhibition for months. The nod means good start and good length on the dramatic pause, continue now.

”Capture the right m-moment, it says more.”

He’s so amazing. So talented, so hardworking. He graduated top of his class from Tisch this spring. He couldn’t decide between artistic or journalistic photography – so the genius built a course-load consisting of both and aced all of it. And now… boy have the two of them both been on a roll these last few months. Especially him. They both graduated this summer. With honors. He’d already been headhunted by this art gallery to do this autumn exhibition even before graduation. And one day in the summer she came home to their apartment to tell him she had applied for a position as junior staff writer at the New York Times. Amazingly, he had smiled his crooked smile and told her he’d just gotten off the phone with one of his old professors who’d encouraged him to apply for the position of junior photographer because the professor could put a good word in. And did. And even more amazingly, they both got the jobs. They’re a team, ready to take the world by storm. Ready to get to the truth of everything.

”Street photography is all about t-the moment.”

They’ve both worked their asses off. Especially Jonathan, using his free time to work on the exhibition. But it’s fun. They’re both doing what they want to do. And they’re together. He’s capturing moments in time. But they’re both in motion.

”I don’t claim to know what p-people are thinking, or saying. I don’t know if anyone of us knows. But I think photographs gives us a chance of working it out.”

Ms. Lacroix who owns the gallery caught sight of Jonathan’s photographs at a Tisch exhibit and it all started there. Now they’re here, opening day. Jonathan came home to the apartment one day in a slight panic because ”Ms. Lacroix wants me to ’say a few words’ at the opening”. All these years later public speaking still terrifies him, even though he’s gotten so much better at it. Even though his stutter overall has gotten extremely better, it’s barely even noticeable anymore when he’s just speaking in normal every day situations. When it’s just the two of them it’s near non-existent because he’s completely at ease with her. It’s mostly noticeable when he’s stressed or anxious. Such as when he’s speaking in front of a group. She managed to calm him down. Pointed out that he’s done this before, that he’ll crush it and that she’ll help him.

”I think these photographs says something about the people in them, about the streets they were taken on, about the city they were taken in. And maybe also about me who took them. I hope t-they say something to you too.”

She told him that less is more really is a good strategy for speeches. She told him it was time to go back to basics, strip everything else away. So they started off with what he told her in the red hue of the Hawkins High darkroom many years ago. And then took it from there.

”Thank you all for coming.”

Nailed it. Short, simple and sweet. Letting his photos speak more. She enthusiastically claps like the rest of the room. Jonathan blushes slightly and humbly bows his head. He can’t wait for the applause to stop so he can get off, she knows and smiles at him. Next to her Will and Joyce stand, just as enthusiastic as she is. Will is at Tisch himself now – though not in the photography department. Joyce came out to visit now for the exhibition. ”I am not missing my eldest first big solo exhibition” as she told them. Joyce is beaming with pride. She’s so proud of her boys. Nancy’s heard from Holly that Joyce has had Jonathan’s photographs and Will’s artworks up by the register at Melvald’s and has been telling anyone and everyone who will listen (or not even that) about ”her Jonathan’s big exhibition at a gallery in New York”. She relayed this information to Jonathan who went completely crimson upon hearing it, while she thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever.

The applause finally peters out as servers steps forth with trays filled with champagne glasses, and Jonathan gets to step down and heads straight towards them.

”You did awesome babe,” she tells him as soon as he’s reached them. ”And congrats again, I’m so proud of you,” she continues and gives him a quick kiss.

”Thanks,” he answers as she naturally tucks herself into his side.

”Honey I’m so so proud of you,” Joyce says and gives him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

”You’ve said that f-five times already today,” Jonathan notes through a crooked smile.

”Well I am!” Joyce throws back.

”This is so cool!” Will exclaims. ”All these people came here to see your pictures!”

Jonathan bashfully looks down at the ground instead of up at the packed room full of people now milling around looking at his photographs, his art. She bumps his hip and beams at him when he looks at her. He mirrors her smile.

”Jonathan! Humble boy, that was great!” Ms. Lacroix calls out as she swoops down on them, beckoning a server with her and swiftly passing out champagne glasses to them all before taking one herself. The gallery owner is eccentric, unapologetic and a big fan of Jonathan, which makes Nancy a big fan of her.

”T-thanks, Nancy helped me,” Jonathan answers.

”It was your words! You did awesome, there’s a lot of people here just to see your photos, stop being so modest,” she smiles at him and bumps his hip with hers again.

”Yes, it’s a great turnout!” Ms. Lacroix agrees and looks around the room at the mumbling mess of people wandering around along the walls. ”Compared to other opening nights this is great, good amount of people, good mix of people and hear that sound?” She continues and dramatically pauses. They all listen. They can’t hear anything, just the murmur of the room as people look at Jonathan’s photos, mumbles about them and talks among themselves.

”What? I just hear a lot of noise of people,” Will is the one to say it.

”Yes but it’s a good noise! Trust me, I’m a great judge of these noises. You don’t want it to be too loud – that means people are talking amongst themselves more than looking at the art, but you don’t want it too quiet either, that means people look at it and don’t have anything to say about what they see. This is the perfect level. I can already tell you’re gonna be hit, Jonathan!” Ms. Lacroix explains. Joyce looks even prouder.

”I don’t know,” Jonathan mumbles and looks down at his shoes. ”Feels awkward to be s-standing here while everyone walks around looking at my photos,” he continues. She puts her hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles. She gets that feeling. She could only wish to be as Jonathan, but even if she was, she’s not sure she’d be brave enough to display it to the world like this, displaying a part of yourself as the art is.

”Oh that’s normal,” Ms. Lacroix waves it off while reaching out to shake Joyce’s and Will’s hands. ”Louise Lacroix, nice to meet you!”

”Joyce Byers, proud mother,” Joyce beams.

”Will Byers, uh, proud brother,” Will says.

”Will’s an a-artist,” Jonathan quickly says.

”No come on-” Will protests, as modest as his brother.

”Ooh, that’s interesting! Are you based here too?” Ms. Lacroix asks.

”Uh, I guess, I go to Tisch…”

”Ah, you too? It’s a great school. What’s your preferred mode of expression? Do you paint, draw, sculpt, photograph…?”

”Uh, draw… and paint some.”

”Wonderful! Do you-” Ms. Lacroix cuts herself off as she spies someone across the room. ”Excuse me, lovely meeting you all and I’ll see you all later but I just spotted Mr. Francis over there and he’s loaded with cash and a friend of the gallery, I’ve got some schmoozing to do,” she finishes and hurries off in the direction of some old guy in an expensive suit.

Friends and some of Jonathan’s old professors take turns coming up to them to gush about the exhibition. Jonathan is continually flustered by all the praise, he’s so modest and uncomfortable in the spotlight, and it makes his stutter a bit more noticeable. No one else seems to care, or even really notice it but she knows he himself is infuriated by it which just makes him stutter more. So she helps him in the way that’s become second nature to her, to them when carrying conversations when he stutters. She takes some of the load off of him by finishing his sentences when she can tell he’s about to get stuck on a word, she fills in gaps, butts in and adds on to his sentences, to give him time to breathe and collect himself. They’ve found it’s a good way to cope with it. They know each other so well they can finish each other’s sentences all the time, usually she doesn’t because she loves to hear him speak but in situations like this she does, to seamlessly alleviate him without anyone else thinking twice about it, she knows no one bats an eyelash at it, it’s really not surprising to anyone that they are ”one of those couples” as her friend Amanda once said.

Soon as she gets the chance though, when there’s a brief lull in people coming up to talk to them, she leads Jonathan outside, to get some much needed fresh air. They sneak out the back and finally find themselves alone. He leans back against the brick wall and she can tell how he’s instantly relaxed when it’s just them, him and her. That makes her happy, will always make her happy.

”How’s New York’s best photographer doing?” She smiles softly and steps in close in front of him, fiddling with his shirt collar.

”Better now,” he smiles down at her.

”This is a great night,” she tells him.

”I know. It’s just a-awkward to be in there with everyone coming up…”

”I know, I get that.”

”I’m happy mom could come out.”

”Me too. She’s so proud of you.”

”I know.”

”I’m so proud of you,” she tells him again.

”You’ve said that.”

”I know, but I really really am. So proud. You’ve worked so hard, you’ve put your heart and soul into this. And it has turned out amazing, as I knew it would. You’re great Jonathan. You’re so talented, so hardworking and so brave. No, don’t roll your eyes, I’m serious,” she pokes him in the chest. ”You are. And you need to know how unique that is. To be this talented and combine it with your work ethic. There’s lots of talented people, and there’s lots of hardworking people. But it takes both to succeed and you have it both in bunches. And you’re the bravest person I know. You’re brave in every way. Obviously in the going face-to-face with a monster way-”

”You did too,” he interrupts, blushing.

”Don’t interrupt, yes I did but whatever, we’re both brave but this is about you. You’re incredibly brave in that regard. But also in whole other ways too, like this. Displaying your photos, your art, displaying pieces of your soul like this. That’s brave. I sure haven’t done that. And on top of it you face your fears of public speaking and stand in front of the whole crowded room and speak from the heart. I know you don’t like it when I go on like this about you and you always try to turn it around on me but I need you to get that you’re amazing.”

When she’s finished he looks at her for a half-second. Then his lips are pressed against hers, his hands are pulling her in close and then go into her hair. She eagerly responds to the kiss, deepening it before they pull apart. He rests his forehead against hers.

”I love you,” he tells her.

”I love you,” she tells him.

”And fine. We must be an awesome couple then since you’re even more amazing than-”

She silences his him with another kiss.

”Hush, can we call it a tie?” She smiles.

”Fine,” he answers before capturing her lips again.

Six months later…

Jonathan’s been a bit odd lately. It’s nothing major, she can’t quite put her finger on it. When she asks him he says he’s fine. It’s just… he’s been stuttering more around her than he’s done for a long time. As their relationship grew and he grew more confident in it he just became more relaxed around her and stuttered less and less. Because ”You make me comfortable”. He barely stutters at all anymore when it’s just the two of them unless he’s particularly stressed about something. But he says he’s fine. And there’s no reason for him to be particularly stressed now. Sure there’s a lot going on at work but not like it’s worse than last fall. But for the past week he’s been stuttering like he hasn’t done around her since high school really. But then again, maybe it’s nothing. It’s up an down with this stuff, sometimes he has a good day and sometimes a bad day and it’s no big deal. It’s just odd… usually doesn’t last for a week like this.

Maybe it’ll pass. It’s Saturday morning and they both have the whole weekend off, maybe that’s all he needs, to relax, she thinks as she stretches out in bed and rolls over to cuddle into him. Only to find emptiness beside her instead of the nice warm cuddle-bug she expected. Huh, he must already be up, she thinks and listens. Yep, she can hear him in the kitchen. She silently wishes for him to be standing there making pancakes right now. Jonathan and pancakes, that’s all she needs this morning she feels. Yawning, she swings her legs over the edge and rises from the bed. She heads to the bathroom for a shower.

Stepping out of the shower she just throws on panties and one of Jonathan’s t-shirts before venturing into the kitchen, she’ll hear from him if he’s thought of any special plans for today but as far as she’s concerned she’d be content to just basically snuggle up with him on the couch the whole day.

She finds him in front of the stove, more properly dressed in pants and a shirt.

”Yes!” She calls out, startling him a little. He looks up. She points to the frying pan he’s occupied with. ”I was hoping for pancakes,” she smiles. He breathes out and chuckles. ”Hey,” she continues, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around him from behind.

”H-hey,” he responds. She leans up and kisses his cheek. ”S-slept well?”

”Yeah, you?””Yeah,” she answers while setting the table,

He stutters like before, she notes. Odd.

”W-what do you want t-to do today?” He asks.

”I don’t know, what do you know want to do?” She answers while getting juice, maple syrup and jam from the fridge as he’s finishing the last few pancakes.

”I t-thought maybe we could go for a walk, later? I d-don’t feel like going out tonight. I was t-thinking I could c-cook instead?” He nervously suggests as he comes over with the stack of pancakes and sits down opposite her.

”Sounds great, I didn’t feel like going out either. I just want you,” she tells him.

”A-and pancakes,” he smiles.

”True,” she grins and digs in. ”Luckily it’s a package deal.”

They sit and enjoy breakfast, enjoy each other’s company. But his slightly odd behavior keeps gnawing at her.

”Hey, you okay?” She finally asks.

”Y-yeah, why?”

”You sure you’re okay? You seem nervous.”

”N-nervous? Why w-would I be?”

”I don’t know, but you seem like it. You’re stuttering like you just do when you’re stressed now, you haven’t stuttered to me like this since high school. I don’t mind it, I’m just wondering, is everything okay?” She lays out.

”Yeah, a-all good. Are you good?”

”I’m fine! Also you keep tapping your foot like you do when you’re anxious,” she further observes. His foot immediately comes to a halt, she can tell. ”Why are you anxious? It’s just us, you and me. What’s eating you?”

He’s quiet for a second, thinking. Then he breaks into a grin, smiling and shaking his head.

”Damn y-your observation s-skills…”

”Sorry, can’t help it,” she grins back. ”But seriously, what’s up?”

He gets up and starts clearing the table. She remains seated, waiting. She knows he’ll tell her when he’s ready. He takes his time putting the dishes in the sink, pensive, thinking. Then he turns and looks at her. Looks at her with so much love and adoration it puts a big smile on her face. A smile takes form over his features too. He seems to make his mind up. He steps forward.

”N-nance… I love you. I l-love everything about you. H-how brave you are, b-bravest in the world. How s-smart you are. T-the smartest in the world. How k-k-kind you are. How f-funny you are. How b-beautiful you are. I-inside a-and out,” he begins, stopping himself to silently berate himself for stuttering and stumbling, she can tell. His words makes her heart swell. He’s standing in front of her now. She takes one of his hands in hers, rubbing her thumb in gentle circles over the back of it to calm him, let him know it’s okay. She wonders where he’s going with all this. A passing thought that he’s working up to a proposal invades her brain but she quickly shoves it aside. Not think like that. Just listen. ”Y-you’re p-perfect. It a-amazes me that you are t-the bravest, smartest, k-kindest, funniest, most beautiful person in the w-world, all at once. A-and that y-you being that s-still want… m-me.” He stops again and looks her in the eye.

”You are, and I do,” she softly says. He nods and readies himself to continue so she doesn’t say anything else, she doesn’t want to interrupt him. The intrusive thought of where he could be headed returns. Blood rushes to her head and she feels butterflies in her stomach.

”T-that’s amazing to me. You’re amazing. You s-saved Will, saved my mom… saved the whole w-world… I’ve been in l-love with you since we were 16. You make me a b-better person. You make me h-happy, you make me s-stronger, b-braver. You support me. I w-want to always support you, I’ll do anything for you. I c-can’t imagine my l-life without you.” He pauses and lets out a deep breath.

Okay now she’s pretty sure of where he’s heading. She quells her instinct to just shout yes and jump his bones here and now because he’s obviously prepared his words and she knows how hard he must’ve worked on them, always struggling with his confidence in delivering speeches, but together they always get it. But this he’s done alone.

”I w-want to do everything with you. I want t-to always be with you. Seriously you m-make every situation b-better just by b-being there and b-being you. I w-want to see the world with you. I’d say I’d want to g-give you the whole w-world but I know you’d do a better job of t-taking it yourself. B-but I’ll do anything for you. I love you.” He drops to a knee in front of her where she’s still sitting on her chair and from his shirt pocket produces a simple but elegant ring. ”S-so, N-nancy Wheeler would you marry me?”

She can’t help but stare at the ring for a second. Then back to his eyes. He’s looking up at her with an earnest but nervous look. Like he’s somehow incredibly unsure of her answer and anxious for her reply.

”Of course!!” She finally bursts out and throws herself at him, tackling him to the kitchen floor. He somehow manages to catch her without dropping the ring and holds her close on top of him while she grabs his face and plants a big kiss on his lips. He lets out a deep breath she didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiles up at her. She beams down at him.

”Really?” He asks.

”Of course you doofus, what did you think?!”

”I don’t know!”

She plants about nine more kisses all over his face before he halts and moves his hand from her hip to grasp her hand and brings it up between their faces. She holds out her finger and he gently slides the ring on it with his other hand. They both marvel at it for a second. Then she captures his lips again.

”I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeats to him. ”Everything you said, Jonathan everything… same back to you. You’re the bravest. The smartest, kindest, funniest best person I know and you make everything better and I never want to be apart from you. I love you I love you,” she giddily gets out, so amped to get her thoughts and feelings out after refraining from saying anything before since she didn’t want to interrupt him.

”I love you,” he responds and kisses her again.

She grins down at him, she can’t stop smiling from ear to ear. His change in demeanor is so clear, the nerves, the stutter has disappeared again. So this is what he’s been anxious about all week. Suddenly she’s very aware of something.

”I can’t believe you proposed to me when I wasn’t even wearing pants!” She exclaims. He chuckles.

”Well I wasn’t going to, I was going to do it tonight but then this relentless investigative reporter got me with her astute observations and I couldn’t keep it in any longer!”

”Oops,” she grins. ”I’m glad you did, now that I’m engaged to you I feel like I couldn’t have taken another second being not-engaged to you!”

”Me either,” he grins and pecks her lips again. Before turning serious. ”Sorry it wasn’t… eloquent, I wanted to do it better, but I just got nervous and…”

”Hey, it was great. It was eloquent. It was beautiful. Perfect,” she tells him.

”I don’t know…”

”It’s not how you say it. It’s what you say. But for the record you said it well too. Because it was straight from the heart. I knew.”

”It was.”

”I love you so much,” she tells him. She can’t stop saying it.

”I love you,” he responds. ”We’re still on the floor,” he then notes with a chuckle.

”Oh, right,” she laughs and gets up off of him before giving him a hand to get up. Not just any hand, the hand now adorned with a ring that promises to seal and confirm what she’s known for years now. That she belongs with Jonathan. Forever. ”Hey that walk you you mentioned before,” she continues. ”I don’t really feel like it anymore. I can think of another activity…”

He takes one look at her. With a glimmer in his eye he picks her up and carries her off to their bedroom. She giggles into his neck as she holds on to him. She’s had pancakes. Now Jonathan is all she needs.

[thorne93]

Insulting

Prompt: Imagine Constantine meeting your boyfriend and finding him utterly ridiculous and boring. He even teases you about it and makes fun of him which genuinely pisses you off and it leads to a serious argument. John tells you that you should be with a smarter man and it all ends in an angry kiss between the two of you. ( @keanu-c-reeves and @theartofimagining13)

Word Count: 1749

Warning: verbal fight, anger, cheating, language

Note: First Constantine fic. I love Keanu....Just..a note, lol. Beta’d by my other half @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please@superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks for dinner,” you said sweetly as you put your hair behind your ear, walking down the sidewalk, as a chill swept through the air, a sign that autumn was gaining power.

“Anytime,” Ryan noted with a smile as he walked beside you, looking handsome in a dark long coat and sensible scarf. He could certainly afford to look dapper on a CFO salary. “I’m glad I got to see you this week,” he remarked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy with meetings and work and deadlines…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, the two of you still strolling side by side. You glanced up, for some unknown reason and saw the street you were on and stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh, hey, would you care if we stopped in on my friend? I’d love for you to meet him.”

“You mean Constantine?” he asked, recalling the hundreds of times you’d brought up your best friend, the guy you’d known for what seemed like ages.

“That’s the one. Please? It would mean a lot,” you nearly begged with puppy dog eyes. “We’ve been going out for three months. I think it’s time.”

He seemed to hesitate for just a moment before nodding his head. “Alright. Sure. Let’s go see this infamous Constantine.”

Beaming at him and hooking your arm through his, you showed him to the apartment. Knocking on the dingy door, only to be greeted by the best man you’d ever known -- John Constantine, clad in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black tie, and black suit pants. He was your rock. There for you through thick and thin. He was a bit of a drunk, a bit of an ass, but a really good guy deep down, he just had a funny way of showing it.

“Y/N, kind of late for a house call,” he greeted, his dry tone so familiar to you that you could probably recite what he would say.

“Not a house call, Constantine. I want you to meet someone!” you said with a wide grin.

His eyes went from yours to your boyfriend. The look of total disdain swirling into his dark eyes as he assessed the man on your arm.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes sliding back to yours, his lip slightly curling up in disgust.

“Because he’s my boyfriend. I told you about him,” you reminded in a kind tone.

“Ah, right, the glorified accountant. Come on in,” he offered with a taste of sarcasm as gestured while he opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

“Thank you,” you kindly said. No matter how rude Constantine was, no matter how cruel, or mean, or apathetic, or sarcastic he ever got, you always countered it with a full on ray of sunshine, refusing to be anything but positive around him, he already had it hard enough as it was.

“So Constantine, this is Ryan. Ryan this is Constantine, or John but--”

“But don’t ever call me John,” he cut you off, looking directly at Ryan, and you could swear he flinched.

“Oh, okay. No problem. Nice to meet you, Constantine. Any friend of Y/N…” he trailed off, holding out his hand for John to shake it, but John just looked at it as if it were leftover scraps. Utterly uninterested and unappealing. Instead, he reached over onto his table, grabbed a cigarette, and lit up, forcing Ryan to awkwardly drop his hand and shove it into his pocket.

“What do you do for a living, Constantine?” Ryan asked, trying to get conversation going.

“I work,” he responded in a short, clipped tone before taking a hit of the cigarette.

“Uh, yes, but I meant what do you do for--”

“Hey, you want a drink?” Constantine asked, interrupting yet again. “You look like you could use a drink. Let me get you one.” He pretended to be kind and polite for a moment before going to his dingy kitchen, pulling out two small glasses, pouring the scotch, and then brought them back. One for you and Ryan, and his was already half empty on the small table where he’d been leaning. The three of you sat down at the table.

“So, you work with numbers, huh?” John asked before taking another puff, letting the cigarette rest between his lips as he eyed your boyfriend. “Must just be a fucking thrill.”

“John,” you chastised lightly.

Ryan eyed you for a moment before peeling them off of you to look at your friend. “Uh, yes. I’m a CFO for Leaflin and Co. It makes pretty good money and--”

“Something you can’t take with you when you die.”

Ryan frowned and leaned forward a tad, as if he hadn’t heard John. “Beg your pardon?”

“Money. You think you can take that shit with you when you die? Any of your thousands or millions? You think any of that matters when you’re in Hell with demons clawing at your eyes and fire setting your skin ablaze for eternity?” John was leaning closer now, his tone more harsh, more serious than it had been. When his rant was done, he took another puff and leaned back.

“I..I don’t think I follow,” Ryan meekly said.

“No, of course you don’t,” John remarked, looking down, ashing his cigarette into the ashtray you’d gotten him about five years ago as a Christmas gift.  “How did you wrangle this one up, Y/N?”

The three of you talked about how you met Ryan and a little more about what Ryan was interested in, and what you two did together on your dates, hoping maybe he’d warm up to him.

“Really, Y/N? This is him? This is the guy you’ve been telling me about? I hate to break it to you, but he’s another money hungry, trophy wife hunter.”

“John,” you chided again. He’d only ever met one of your other boyfriends and this is why you didn’t introduce them. Because he always behaved like an ass.

His dark brown orbs shot over to you. “What? I’m just saying. You could do better.”

“I’ll have you know I care very much for Y/N,” Ryan responded.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but she could do a hell of a lot better than some dude in a suit that will either end up with a coke habit, fuck his secretary when you tire of her, or embezzle so much money you become filthy rich, giving Y/N a life she never dreamed of just to have it all ripped away by feds because you were too fucking stupid to keep it hidden.” He leaned forward, a satisfied smirk on his face as he stared intensely at your boyfriend. “Am I in the ballpark, ace?”

“I don’t have to stand for this,” Ryan said as he stood up, angry.

“Wait, Ryan. Don’t go,” you requested.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N. Some company you keep,” he remarked, glancing between you and Constantine, before storming out.

Constantine got up and poured himself another drink.

“What the hell? Why did you do that?” you asked, standing up.

“He’s a douche.” He got done pouring the drink, setting the bottle down before looking at you. “I did you a favor.”

“What is so wrong with him?” you demanded, your kindness slipping away, desperation in your voice.

“Nothing, if you like the absolute mundane,” he responded.

“Don’t be a dick, John. At least I have someone,” you said, a bit of exhaustion in your voice. You always wondered if he was a bitter ass because he was alone at night. “You just want me to be alone like you.”

“If my choices were between that--” he pointed at the door where Ryan had exited just moments ago--”and no one, I’d pick nothing, every time.” His smugness was nearly irritating as it saturated the atmosphere between you two.

“What is so wrong with wanting normal?” you asked, your hands on your hips as you stood before him.

John rolled his eyes. “Because you’re not normal. Because you deserve someone smart, and frankly more worth your time.”

Your eyebrows shot up, wondering where this concerned attitude was coming from. For years, you assumed John could care less who you were with. But sometimes you wondered if the reason he acted the way he did about all of your boyfriends or dates was because….he wanted to be one. And his actions and words now were merely enforcing that.

“Oh? And where do you suppose I find someone who is so worthy of such a thing?” you inquired, your sarcasm heavy as you crossed your arms. Seeing what his answer would be was a mystery to you.

“I don’t know. But it’s not him,” he answered, his eyes down, looking at his cigarette.

You shook your head, a small, humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Coward. You’re so god damn afraid to feel and let someone in, you’d rather just be alone and miserable than put any risk in being happy.”

He was taking a sip of his drink as you spoke. When you were done, he slammed the glass on the table, amber liquid splashing out of the side and spilling onto his fingers. “I’m a coward?” he demanded, standing up and getting in your face. “I’m not afraid of a damn thing. You're the one who would rather be with anyone than…” He trailed off, his eyes slowly drifting from your face, the words hanging in the air between you two.

“Than what, John?” you wondered, your voice barely above a whisper, praying and hoping he’d just say what the fuck was on his mind for once.

He muttered a “fuck it” quickly and quietly before his hands flashed to the sides of your head and his lips crashed on yours, the sensation lighting you up from within. Every nerve felt awakened has his mouth hungrily molded around yours and you melted into his form, kissing back with as much fervor. The heated moment ended, both of you panting slightly.

“Than risk being happy with me,” he breathed, his eyes closed as the two of you rested your foreheads against each other.

“It’s not the happiness I’m afraid of,” you admitted quietly.

“Let’s scare the shit out of ourselves, then,” he suggested, his mouth finding yours again, both of you knowing exactly what you wanted. Knowing that you’d rather risk it all for each other, than not at all.

[victorineb]

Nice and Weird

Today is my darling @desperatelyseekingcannibals‘ birthday and so I wrote a little thing featuring their favourite movie Mads (Elias, from Men and Chicken) and their favourite movie Hugh (Grigg, from the Jane Austen Book Club). Happy birthday to my dear friend Max, I hope you enjoy <3<3<3

Also on AO3.

It all started with an argument. Well, less an argument than Jocelyn telling Grigg why he was wrong and Grigg trying to be pleasant while defending himself. It was something she’d always done, when they were dating and only slightly less now that they weren’t. Grigg didn’t mind it, really; Joss meant well, she just had this unfortunate habit of always believing she was right about everything. Unfortunately, what started as a fairly good-natured discussion about the relative merits of paper versus e-books (Joss, inevitably, was wedded to her dead trees, while Grigg, equally inevitably, was delighted by the way that touchscreens felt like something straight out of the future) had now descended into a personal attack on Grigg’s good nature.

“You’re talking out your ass, Joss,” Grigg told her, patience at having his personality dragged through the mud wearing thin.

“It’s true!” she retorted. “You’re completely undiscerning. You like everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re rude, or boring, or stupid. My dogs are choosier about the company they keep!”

“Clearly untrue, given that they happily spend most of their time with you!”

“Keep it civil, you two,” Bernadette murmured, from her seat opposite them. Most of the other club members had wandered off into Allegra’s kitchen, waiting for Joss and Grigg to finish their bickering before the official discussion could recommence.

“All I’m saying is, it’s lovely that you’re so, well, lovely,” Jocelyn offered (all typical alpha condescension, in Grigg’s opinion), “but if you just like everybody by default, it’s basically the same as not liking anybody at all! It doesn’t mean anything when you like someone, if you just automatically like everyone.”

“Look, I still think that’s crap, and an excuse for you being your usual judge-first-ask-questions-later self, but it’s not even true anyway. I don’t like everybody,” Grigg protested.

“No?” Joss looked at the omega doubtfully. “Name one single person you don’t like. Just one and I’ll drop the whole thing.”

“Fine. Easy,” Grigg told her.

“Real people, Grigg, not politicians or celebrities,” came the proviso.

“No problem.” There were plenty of people he couldn’t stand. Must be dozens of them.

It was just that Grigg was having real difficulty bringing one to mind right now.

Minutes passed as Grigg racked his brains, and a smug smile spread across Joss’ face. It was infuriating enough for Grigg to simply grab the first name that came to mind. “Well… Elias is pretty weird…”

Elias was the new member of the book club, having joined three months previously. He had moved all the way from Denmark to California, after some incident with his family that no one could quite grasp the nature of. Apparently he had decided his destination by throwing a dart at a map, instead of considering such little details as where he might get a job, or the fact that he knew no one in the country, let alone the state. It was the latter issue that had brought him to the book club, after meeting Bernadette at a speed dating event. She hadn’t wanted to date the alpha, but had taken pity on the strange man, who clearly didn’t have anybody in his life, and had invited him to join their group. It wasn’t her most popular decision.

None of the other members could stand Elias, with his awkward manners and brusque attitude, with the way he would talk over them and criticise their opinions. He was loud, opinionated, obnoxious and eccentric. More than eccentric, frankly, he was just plain weird, given to flights of Walter Mitty-like exaggeration about his accomplishments and his prowess as an alpha. Elias was rude. He was overbearing. He was horribly pedantic. He was just, well, really hard to like.

(Even if Grigg did rather enjoy the way Elias would ride roughshod over Jocelyn’s opinions. And the dry sense of humour he displayed when he wasn’t being a jackass. And the way he would give out hugs for no reason at all, holding Grigg against his large, warm, surprisingly solid body. And the way he smelled fucking fantastic, the kind of scent that would make even a beta sit up and take notice, and was, to Grigg’s sensitive omega nose, good enough to take a bath in.)

He was also, judging by Bernie’s horrified expression and the rough inhale of breath behind Grigg, standing right behind him.

Grigg cringed, and turned slowly, to be met with teary eyes and a trembling mouth that sat oddly on a fifty-ish bull of a man.

“Elias, I didn’t,” Grigg started, but with a strangled noise, Elias dropped the book he had been holding and rushed from the house.

“Oops,” Jocelyn said, insincerity dripping from every pore, and it was all Grigg could do not to give her a telling off in the middle of Allegra’s living room. Instead he simply glared at her and took off after Elias, grabbing the dropped book and shoving it inside his jacket as he went.

Grigg ran out into the street, hurriedly strapping his helmet on and craning his neck to see which direction Elias had gone in. The alpha’s size was a blessing in this case, Grigg easily catching sight of his thatch of greying curls as he ran in the direction of the park. Grigg hopped onto his bike and set off in pursuit, weaving through traffic with a recklessness that was completely unlike him. He had the strangest need to get to Elias and make everything better between them, like something was tugging at him from the inside. He could feel it almost like a physical tether, dragging him towards the alpha. Not like when he was in heat and the desire to find and bed an alpha was almost irresistible, more that he wanted to protect Elias from the hurt he had caused, wrap him in his arms for once and soothe the pain away.

Maybe Joss was right about him being unable to dislike anyone.

Grigg skidded into the park, nearly knocking a guy down in the process and not even stopping to check if he was alright. Every bone in his body was telling him not to lose Elias, to keep him in his sights until he caught up and could make him listen. So he yelled an apology and kept moving, speeding up when he caught sight of Elias heading straight for the other side of the park, beyond which Grigg was sure to lose him in the bustle of shops and traffic. Grigg put his head down and pedalled harder, determined not to let that happen, easily gaining on Elias now that there was no traffic in the way and a decent path beneath him. When he was close enough, he began shouting the alpha’s name, ignoring the disapproving looks he got for disrupting the relative peace.

“Elias!” Finally, after ignoring him for a good minute, Elias acknowledged Grigg’s calls and turned to watch him approach. Grigg’s stomach dropped as he realised the man had been crying, and the need to make things right grew unbearable. He slid to a halt and stumbled off his bike, dropping it carelessly to the ground. “Elias, I’m so-”

Elias cut him off with a raised hand. “It is alright, Grigg, you do not have to explain,” he sniffed, tears still running down his face. “I am aware that nobody likes me and I am not welcome to be in the club. I thought perhaps you were different, because you let me hug you and do not run away like the girls, but I see now that you were only being polite.” He drew himself up tall, trying to look arrogant and imposing, and failing miserably because of his still-shaking shoulders and the tracks of tears down his cheeks. “I am sure there are lots of clubs that would be happy to have an alpha of my stature, unlike you and your silly girls’ club.”

Guilt-stricken or not, Grigg balked at these words. “Now you see that is your problem, Elias,” he snapped.

The alpha’s eyebrows raised and he sneered at Grigg. “I think my only problem is that I am still talking to you,” he growled, and make to push past Grigg, who set his feet and grabbed onto the bigger man.

“Look, Elias, I’m trying to help you here,” Grigg said, struggling not to be overpowered by Elias’ more powerful form.

“You are helping me by insulting me? I think you are the weird one, Grigg.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s always starting fights,” Grigg retorted, choosing to ignore the fact that he was, essentially, engaged in a wrestling match in the middle of a public park.

Elias glared at him and opened his mouth, apparently to protest, but then his face seemed to crumple and he began crying again. “You’re right, Grigg, I am a terrible man, cruel and horrible. Nobody should like me, I do not deserve it,” he wailed, provoking yet more disapproving looks to be cast in Grigg’s direction.

Grigg sighed, and manhandled the now-pliant alpha towards a bench, onto which Elias collapsed and buried his face in his hands. Grigg sighed, and took the seat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to soothe. “Look, Elias, I admit, you’re not the easiest guy in the world to get along with…”

Elias sobbed, and choked out, “You said I was weird…”

“Well sure,” Grigg said, aiming for lightness and mostly succeeding, “what’s wrong with weird? It’s fine to be weird, Elias. I’m pretty weird. Some of my favourite people in the world are completely weird.”

Elias sniffed, the tears abating somewhat. “So… you don’t hate me?”

Grigg punched the alpha softly in the arm. “I’m not saying you can’t be a handful, big guy. But I definitely don’t hate you. In fact, there are times when I really like you.”

Elias looked up at that, hope in his tear-filled eyes. “Really?”

“Remember last meeting, when you asked Jocelyn if she had lost a bet and wasn’t allowed to say anything sensible for twenty-four hours?” Grigg asked, shooting a conspiratorial look at Elias, who nodded and gave a watery smile. “I nearly broke something trying not to laugh at that.”

Elias’ smile widened momentarily at the confession, but then shrank almost immediately. “But the others, the women, they all shouted at me.”

“That’s probably because you also called Joss ‘a domineering shrew who always smells of wet dog,’ Elias,” Grigg told him, grinning at the memory and then shaking himself, adding, “which is not cool at all, and definitely not funny.” Grigg sighed and leaned a little against Elias. “Look, the thing is, it’s not ok for you to go around insulting everybody. And it’s really not smart if you want people to like you.”

Elias sniffed and nodded morosely. “Nobody likes me because of the things I say. I do not know why I say them. My brother says that I should keep my mouth closed but people say stupid things and then I shout at them and I cannot stop.” He sniffled again. “I would like people to like me. I would like you to like me.”

Grigg was suddenly aware that he was blushing and turned his head from Elias’ red-rimmed gaze. “I do like you,” he said, trying to make his voice light, though it came out somewhat throaty, “I already said I did.”

“Yes,” Elias agreed, his own voice still thick with tears, “you did say that.”

They sat for a moment in silence, Grigg increasingly aware of how close they were, and of the scent of Elias, becoming gradually less distressed, which soothed Grigg’s own tension in turn. It was odd, how comfortable he felt just sitting with Elias and he realised that he’d never actually been alone with the alpha before. Suddenly, Grigg felt very strongly that it wasn’t something he wanted to lose, this inexplicable, out-of-the-blue intimacy, and decided that something would have to be done about the club.

“Look, Elias, if I could help you get on better with the girls, would you let me?” Grigg asked carefully.

Elias took a deep breath, and Grigg braced to be shouted down, but then the alpha looked at him with such a puppyish expression of hope that Grigg couldn’t help but reach out and pat him gently on the knee.

“You’ll let me?” he asked, and smiled when Elias nodded. “Ok, good. Let me think about it and… maybe I could call you and we could get together and chat about-”

“Are you asking me for a date, Grigg?” Elias was peering at him with a very odd expression.

“What? No. Not… I wasn’t asking you out, Elias.” Grigg laughed, hoping it sounded less horribly awkward to Elias than it did to him. “I just thought we could, you know, strategize, before the next club meeting.”

“Oh.” Elias scrutinised him a moment longer, then suddenly burst out, “I only wanted to check, of course. Because you are unmated.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to jump every stray alpha I come across, Elias,” Grigg said, chalking the odd flutter in his stomach up to irritation at the old-fashioned assumption.

“Of course not, I only…” Now Elias was the one stumbling over his words. “I did not…  want any misunderstanding between us. Now we are friends. Just friends.”

“Oh. Ok.” Grigg took a deep breath and tried to remember that Elias came from a different culture, and that he had at least been trying to be considerate. He decided to cut the man a break. “So you’ll still let me help you?”

Elias nodded, though he avoided looking Grigg in the eyes. “Yes, thank you, I would like that.”

“Least I could do, after upsetting you like that,” Grigg shrugged and surveyed the park. It was coming up on magic hour, a golden glow settling across the stretch of green. Suddenly, Grigg didn’t want to be anywhere else. “Hey, I think I’m gonna stay here for a while, maybe start on the book for the next meeting. Oh, which reminds me, I brought this.” He pulled Elias’ abandoned book from his jacket and handed it to him.

Elias accepted it with a smile and said, “Thank you, Grigg. You are the only person who has been kind to me in this country. I am glad to have met you.”

Once again, Grigg felt his face heat. Elias had the strangest ability to make him feel pleased and embarrassed all at once with his guileless comments. Even stranger, Grigg found he didn’t want him to stop.

“Would you want to maybe sit with me for a while?” he asked. “It’s beautiful here, don’t you think?”

Elias looked at him with that inscrutable expression again, and then asked the last question Grigg ever would have expected. “Would you read it to me?”

“I…” Grigg looked around. “What, out here in the middle of the park?”

“Please. My brother, he used to read to me before bed, I always liked it. Your voice is pleasant, I think I would enjoy listening to you.”

And, well, surely even the hardest-hearted person who struggle to say no to that, Grigg mused. So he took out his tablet and called up the new book – Nights at the Circus – before looking over at Elias. “I’m not doing the accents, just so you know.”

“That is acceptable,” Elias told him.

“Acceptable,” Grigg muttered, but he couldn’t help but grin at the childish happiness in Elias’ expression as he turned to the first page and began: “‘Lor’ love you sir!’”

They stayed there together, Grigg leaning back against the bench, Elias forward with his arms resting on his knees, until it grew too dark to read. And when they parted, Grigg couldn’t help but hear Elias’ words from earlier, now we are friends, and feel that odd little tug inside him again.

The next meeting started well enough. Elias and Grigg arrived early at Jocelyn’s place and commandeered the sofa (and if Grigg sat closer than was strictly necessary, it was only so that they could carry out their plan and certainly not so that Elias’ scent could wrap around him like it had that day at the park). The others trickled in one by one and Grigg took special care to ignore Jocelyn smugly mouthing told you so when she caught sight of him and Elias sitting so cosily together. Really, he couldn’t remember why he’d been in such a hurry to prove her wrong. So he liked people, how was that remotely a bad thing? It had brought him closer to Elias, after all and that was… that was unexpectedly important to Grigg, somehow.

Instinctively, he nestled in a bit closer to Elias and then was surprised to find the alpha reaching his arm around as if to hold Grigg. Both of them froze and then turned sheepish looks on each other as Elias retracted his arm and Grigg sat up straighter, trying to subtly scoot a little away from Elias. It didn’t work terribly well, since Bernie chose that moment to plop down in the seat next to Grigg and start the meeting.

After that bit of awkwardness, though, things progressed pretty well. Grigg had decided to go for simple and direct with his plan to help Elias, mostly because when he’d tried to describe his idea involving a complex system of book-related code-words, Elias had given the distinct impression that he was about to either start crying or hitting things. Instead, Grigg was now in possession of a tiny remote control, while Elias had a small device strapped to his wrist, designed to give out a very mild shock whenever Grigg activated it. Any time Elias started saying something insulting, Grigg would press the button to give Elias the signal that he had gone too far.

So far, Grigg had had to use it seven times and they were only forty minutes into the meeting.

Still, it was working well, Elias barely flinching when Grigg shocked him and managing to follow Grigg’s instructions to stop himself and then apologise and allow someone else to talk. From the other members’ reactions, Elias’ attempts to restrain himself and be considerate were not lost on the group, and the discussion began to flow amiably. Sylvia even offered him more coffee when Elias drained his cup, and Allegra asked him to expand on a point about the novel’s portrayal of a human-animal hybrid.

Then Jocelyn piped up.

She’d been a pill at every meeting since they’d decided to read Angela Carter instead of her preferred Bronte sisters. All Grigg’s fault, of course. She’d won pretty much everyone round to Charlotte, Emily, and the other one whose name Grigg could never remember, when he’d mentioned Carter in passing. Before he knew what was happening, the whole group… almost the whole group had decided her novels sounded fascinating and just what they were looking for. And Jocelyn had decided to sulk over every single last word of “silly, fantastical, overwritten nonsense” they read. So it wasn’t surprising that she went to town over the new book, accusing it of being post-feminist melodrama with literary pretensions.

What was surprising was that halfway through her tirade on how ridiculous it was to expect anyone to take seriously a heroine who was half-woman, half-swan, Elias shot to his feet and started his own rant about how Jocelyn was cruel and insensitive, and that there was nothing wrong with a person having wings, or any other animal parts if they wanted to…

Grigg, of course, had started slamming the button in his pocket the second Elias moved, but instead of causing the alpha to rein himself in, it only resulted in Elias tearing the bracelet from his wrist and throwing it onto the couch behind him. All Grigg could do was pick it up and hold its warmth against his palm, as he watched the argument intensify. He felt unsettled, disproportionately upset by the dispute, by Elias being angry and distressed. That strange urge to soothe and protect the alpha was back again, tugging at his chest, and he found himself scenting the bracelet instinctively, the reminder of Elias somehow calming him. Coming back to himself a little, Grigg looked up to see Elias and Joss facing off, staring daggers at each other.

“I want to propose-” Jocelyn started.

“Oh, Joss, don’t,” Bernadette said, causing Grigg to wonder just what they’d been discussing behind his back.

“I. Want. To. Propose,” Jocelyn gritted out, ignoring Bernie and staring down Elias, “that Elias should be removed from this club. He is rude and obnoxious and nobody can stand him. He needs to go.”

“Fine,” spat Elias. “I will leave. I have no need of your silly girls’ book party anyway.”

Grigg was on his feet now, and caught Elias by the arm to stop him storming out. “Hey now,” he said, trying to sound encouraging, “there’s no need for any of this. Elias knows he can be a bit aggressive sometimes, but we’re working on it, right Elias?” Elias just grunted so Grigg ploughed on. “Anyway, we didn’t all get along to begin with, did we? Allegra thought Prudie was a stuck up bitch.”

The two women in question looked at each other and nodded. “He has a point,” Prudie said.

“See?” Grigg looked at Jocelyn hopefully. She looked unimpressed. “And, and,” Grigg went on, undeterred, “you all thought I was an empty-headed dork when you met me.”

“Some of us are still waiting to be proven wrong on that,” Allegra called out, grinning at Grigg when he turned to her. He was about to tease her back, hoping some lightheartedness would break the tension and make Jocelyn back off, when they both jumped at the sound of Elias actually growling at Allegra, sounding for all the world like an alpha whose mate had just been insulted.

Which was insane, obviously, Grigg thought, through the haze of confusion, Elias didn’t even have a mate.

“Ok, see, you and Prudie never growled at any of us,” Jocelyn said, triumphantly. “And neither of you give off the horrible stench, either, thank god,” she added, wrinkling her nose.

Grigg turned on her, irritated by the unfounded insult. “What are you talking about, Joss, Elias doesn’t smell bad.”

Sylvia raised a hand and, with an apologetic expression, gently said, “Actually, he does. We’ve all noticed it.”

Grigg cast around the room in amazement, taking in the reluctant nods from the rest of the group. “You’re all mad,” he exclaimed, frustrated, “Elias smells fantastic. I’ve never met anyone who smells better!” Behind him, Elias actually purred at this, and really, all this alpha posturing was a bit ridiculous. It was as if Elias… as if Elias…

Oh.

“Oh!” Bernie cried, throwing her hands in the air. “True mates! Grigg and Elias are true mates!”

The entire room stared at her, but it was Elias who spoke first. “Grigg is my åndsfælle?”

“I’m your what?” Grigg blurted.

“Åndsfælle… is… I think you have it as soul’s mate, in English?” Elias smiled hopefully at Grigg, who could only shake his head in disbelief.

“I… but…” He turned to Bernadette with a pleading look. “Could someone please explain what my being the only one to find Elias’ scent appealing has to do with us being fated to be together in some fantastical way?”

Bernie looked at him kindly and said, “Not quite fated, Grigg sweetie, though lots of cultures still refer to something like soulmates. It just means you’re biologically perfect for each other. It’s very rare, most people don’t know about it. I only do because husband three and I were the same way. And if that’s anything to go by, you boys have some fantastic sex in your future,” she grinned.

Grigg stared at her, and then collapsed back onto the couch. “Holy shit.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and then lowered it slowly, cringing. “Wait, does this mean I smell bad to everyone except Elias?”

“No honey,” Bernie said, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s only the alpha’s scent that changes, and only when they come into contact with their omega. It explains why I didn’t notice it the first time we met – Elias probably smelled like your average alpha right up until the time he met you. I bet no one avoided you because of your scent before, right Elias?”

“No,” the alpha agreed, “most people said it was because of my personality.”

Bernie slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her laughter, but Grigg just felt another urge to hug Elias and make sure no one was cruel to him ever again.

He must have noticed the way Grigg was looking at him, because Elias came to sit by him, taking his hand gently and looking earnestly into Grigg’s eyes. “This is not so much a shock to me, Grigg, as I have been attracted to you for many weeks now. You are very beautiful and you smell good to me also, though often very sweaty because of you riding your bike everywhere.”

Grigg held up a hand and Elias trailed off. Then he strapped the shock bracelet back onto Elias’ wrist, saying, “I think we may need to keep this on if we’re going to pursue this.”

Elias pouted at the bracelet and then Grigg’s words seemed to catch up to him. He looked up, wide smile baring pointed teeth that Grigg couldn’t help but imagine latching onto his bonding spot. “Then,” he asked, “you would like to? You would be mine?”

“I… I mean,” Grigg trailed off, suddenly aware of the group of women watching them. Apparently Jocelyn picked up on his discomfort, because the next minute she was herding everybody out of the living room to go play with the dogs for a while. On the way out, she mouthed a good luck at a surprised Grigg. He was going to have to talk to her later, because obviously Elias would have to be part of their lives now, now that he and Grigg were… were…

“Grigg?” Elias’ voice roused him. “Do you have an answer, now it is just us?”

“Elias, I…” Grigg took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, he needed time to figure it out. But he didn’t want to hurt Elias, and he didn’t want to chase him off. “Look, I like you. And I’m attracted to you.” His eyes roamed Elias’ body: long legs, firm chest, broad shoulders, a face that became more handsome the longer you looked at it, even with the terrible moustache. “Definitely attracted to you.”

“Then everything is good?” Elias asked.

“I mean, yes. Yes, in theory everything is good. Even without this… mates thing, if you’d just asked me out, I probably would have said yes. But this is… this is huge. And overwhelming. And… and huge.”

Elias glanced down at himself. “Yes, I know it is very large. But there have been no complaints. I have pleasured many omegas-”

Grigg held up a hand again. “I didn’t mean… wait, how big?” He shook himself. “Never mind, not the point. I meant, we’ve only known each other a few months and now we’re soulmates? It’s too fast, Elias. Even if we’re a perfect biological match, I barely know you. I don’t want to jump into a relationship just because of some weird alpha/omega quirk.”

“So, you are saying…” Elias looked at him questioningly, “what are you saying?”

“I think… I’m saying I’d like to try this. But I’d like to go slow, to get to know you, instead of just jumping into bed and letting you knot me. Would that be ok?”

Elias took his hand and rubbed his thumb across the knuckles. “I have thought about knotting you often while touching myself.”

Grigg had to bite back a moan. “Jesus, Elias, that’s not slow.”

“I have thought about it,” the alpha continued, “but I am happy not to do it until you are ready. I think I would wait a long time for you, Grigg.”

Grigg smiled. “Thank you, Elias.”

“I will not touch you until you want me to. But I hope I will be allowed to continue touching myself, as I find I need to do so quite often. I-”

“Oh god, you’re going to be impossible, aren’t you?” Grigg laughed. “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me. A kiss might be a good way to start.”

Elias beamed, and then the next moment looked nervous. “Grigg, even though I have kissed very many omegas, and I am sure this kiss will be wonderful…”

Grigg leaned into him and smiled. “Don’t worry, the first one doesn’t have to be perfect.”

The funny thing was though, as Grigg parted Elias’ lips with his tongue, and felt strong arms come up to hold him tight, he really couldn’t imagine a more perfect first kiss than this.

Eventually they parted for breath, grinning stupidly at each other, and Grigg found enough wits to say, “Remember that thing I said about going slow?”

“Yes.”

“Turns out I’m willing to negotiate.”