#groveling is required for him to get a second date

[the-raindeer-king]

Blind date with Simon except he's weird and off-putting. Only gives one word answers and seems far more interested in just staring at you. The way he inhales his food makes you think he's trying to rush the date so you both can leave sooner.

You leave pissed off that you wasted the night with this freak.

And Simon leaves head over heels, already thinking about how pretty your name sounds with his.

[multiheadcanons]

I MAY BE A DAY LATE BUT I’LL NEVER BE A DOLLAR SHORT. SITUATIONS TO PUT THE BLU TEAM IN THAT WOULD LEAD TO THE SLOPPIEST SEX IMAGINABLE.

scout: scout isn’t easy to sex up on a good day. which means he needs to have a great day. and it needs to seem like it was all his doing. the biggest hurdle for this is battle. it is a requirement that he needs to have a good day on the field, or he won’t be able to get it up. if he dies more than five times, it’s off the table. your best bet is to pay off the red team (or ask very, very nicely) to give the kid a break. if you can succeed on this, scout takes care of the rest. he’ll be in great spirits. he’ll invite you out. put on your prettiest clothes, go with him, and listen. intently. the second biggest hurdle is gassing up his ego without making it seem like there are ulterior motives. you are smooth talking him out of his clothes. he needs to feel confident enough to kiss you come the end of it. let nature take its course from there.

soldier: soldier is unarguably the easiest, but it helps if you have a good grasp on the american english language. because you can just let him know exactly how you want him. and if he likes you, he’s gonna do it. but the more detailed you can get, the more into it he’s gonna be. tell him you want him to corner you in the deepest corners of the base. tell him you’ll meet him in the ac vents. tell him you’re going on a date and you want him to come and ruin it. tell him to take a fucking shower and tie himself to the bed in a pair of silk blue panties and frilly socks. let him gnash his teeth until the time comes to see you. because he will ask why he can’t take you now.

pyro: pyro is a dog. loyal, steadfast, a little stupid, but always eager to please. and pyro loves to roleplay. do you want to play house? you want to play cops and robbers? they guess you could be a sexy nurse, but if the doctor found out you both would probably get an earful. but if you’re into that, then they can play along. anything that even further removes pyro from the reality they live in, while also hard hitting pyro’s brain with so much dopamine they are actively tweaking, no dope necessary, will get pyro enthusiastically involved. you can really just start throwing scenarios at the wall and see what sticks. don’t get too carried away.

demo: demo would never use this word for himself, but it is still a very accurate term. demo is a gentleman. you already have to know that he’s not going to have sex with you drunk. and you’re going to use this against him. this is also a prime method to get the man sober if you can keep up with him and his bad attitude when he is. you’re going to tell him every day you want to have sex. then you’re going to come up missing for the rest of the day. when you see him again tomorrow, apologize (you are going to have to damn near grovel, he’s going to be upset. he hates being stood up) and set another time for that day. keep track of how many times you do this, you can get away with it no more than five times before you have permanently landed yourself on his shit list. and that number can change if you aren’t putting everything into your apologies. when he is almost completely disregarding your apologies, even as you cling to his feet, you’re gonna go wait for him in his room. ass naked. he cannot mistake what you are in his room for. and he will thank the gods.

heavy: if you’re already fucking this guy, this is going to be a lot easier to do. just ignore him. leave rooms when he enters, don’t speak to him, don’t look in his direction, he is nothing and he doesn’t exist. heavy will not think about this until you’re about a month in and he realizes that you two haven’t shared a single word with each other. you will not let up on this, though, because surrendering now will just give him what he wants. stay alert, and keep ignoring him. even as he approaches you in public. don’t interact with him. interacting with him in public is losing. there will be a day. when you enter your room, and he is in there, and there is nowhere to go. and he’s going to sound madder than he is. he is desperate to know what he did. and why you won’t look at him. and why you won’t speak to him. and what he can do to set things right. and all you have to do is let him know.

engineer: if you get this man drunk enough and on a dance floor— any dance floor; you are getting back in that vehicle to sloppy toppy. but he’s gotta be drunk, and the music has to be lively. if it is not lively, he will make it lively. and he needs drinks to do that. monitor that, by the way, if he’s too drunk he might just end up vomiting on you, and you’re not getting anything. cut him off by five alcoholic beverages, he can have a pickleback with a quarter of a shot of jameson as a treat if he’s able to keep his wits about him. and when he is in a place that raises his energy, raises his mood, makes him feel good about himself, he’s ready to make anyone feel even better.

medic: this man would be the only man who this can be pulled on and it work. argue with this man. all the time. every day. slick remarks under your breath, and when he asks you what you said (and he knows what you said), deny it. deny it until he doesn’t even bother to ask you anymore. and don’t let up. the questions become irritated groans, and nasty stares. test his patience, and grate his nerves. then invite him out for dinner. be normal until you get your appetizer. then kick it into the highest gear imaginable. start an argument in the restaurant. the doctor cannot stand to be embarrassed in public. you may not make it to the entree before he snatches you out of your seat and drags you from the restaurant, throwing cash on the table. you think you’re just so smart. he is going to fix that. he doesn’t realize this was the end goal.

sniper: sniper gets so incredibly desperate when his off days get close. he enjoys his job, don’t get him wrong, but those days off are a gift. at that point, it’s really about being the first person he lays eyes on that he has a connection with. and it is better if he knows you. he can skip the small talk. if you force it, he’ll have it; it is very lackluster. yep, it’s his day off, he’s really happy to have it; did you say you had your own apartment again? was that you? oh, it was? perfect. and the greatest part is, sniper frequents the same five places. the man doesn’t deviate from his off day routine. if you want to find him, you can absolutely do that. just don’t tell him you went out of your way to find him. it’ll creep him out. but he will be so ready to experience his infrequent days off that he will not bat an eye at an “oh my god, i didn’t expect to see you here!”

spy: spy is arguably the easiest one, if he likes you. and if he doesn’t, good luck. join him on a solo contract. he doesn’t get them as often as his counterpart does, but he does get them. if you’re an asset, he’ll let you join him inside. otherwise, you wait in the car with the doors locked until you hear the knocking on the door. you need to get inside and you need to get blood on your hands. you have to show that you are a force to be reckoned with. and that him having you is better than whatever he currently has going on. you are any percent no hit running this contract. if you are injured, this will not work. and do not go for the intel. you will bring attention to his position, and then he’s really not fucking you. this contract must be completed without so much as a hitch. if you are a being born of violence, don’t worry if you get lost in the blood sauce. just keep killing people. he’ll come to collect you. and, if you are unharmed, and causing mass damage, he will be thoroughly impressed. he won’t split the money with you, but he’ll give you what you want.

[mochatsin]

WHEN THE BROTHERS FORGOT YOUR DATE

You have plans with him to go out tonight and just spend some nice quality time together. However, sometimes things just don’t go your way. Something came up and your favorite demon may have forgotten about the date.

------------

Lucifer

He never meant to forget it. He was actually looking forward to it and he was also the one who made the necessary reservations for you two to eat at this fancy restaurant where you get to dress up and eat something so exquisite.

It was supposed to be a lovely evening for the both of you. All dolled up nicely while you get to experience fine dining, since it’s something you don’t normally do. This makes this little date special and you were so excited for it, the feeling was almost contagious around the house. 

Just as he was about to leave, Diavolo called for a last minute urgent meeting that required his attendance. It was something important so Lucifer couldn’t leave no matter how much he wanted to. Given the serious topic at hand, he was so focused on it that he forgot about the time. 

You tried to call him since you were already at the restaurant waiting for him. Lucifer found the buzzing of his phone incredibly distracting so he left it in his bag to focus on the meeting. 

As soon as he was dismissed, he checked his phone and he felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw the number of calls and texts from you. He can’t believe that he forgot something so important! 

He ran to the restaurant as soon as he could, still in his RAD uniform. He doesn’t care how much he sticks out like a sore thumb with his clothes in a restaurant full of well dressed demons, he doesn't want to let you wait for a single second.

To see you sitting alone, already finished with your own dinner while Lucifer’s has already gone cold and untouched, it made his heart break into two. It was supposed to be your special night with him after all, and he was already late. It hurts him more to see how dressed up you were, knowing how you must’ve planned this outfit for a while now. 

The sadness and disappointment in your eyes was enough to make him want to grovel on his knees and beg for your forgiveness in front of you and the entire restaurant. Pride be damned. 

You were about to leave, thinking that you shouldn’t waste your time here alone any longer and go home. Lucifer runs in to stop you “w-wait! I'm here now” He says, making you sit back down on the chair while he sits across you.

You could see that he practically ran from RAD all the way here, given how disheveled his hair is and how he’s still in uniform. Though it was already obvious, he explained why he was late. 

“I know I said it was important, but it’s not an excuse. You deserve to have a nice time, and I'll make it up to you. Only if you’ll let me.” You can see that he means well, so you decide to give him another chance. 

Your forgiveness means a lot to him so he smiles “I promise I won't make the same mistake ever again” and you spend the rest of the evening planning a second date with him. This time he lets you choose where to go, no questions asked. 

Lucifer makes sure to clear his schedule and let Diavolo know he has plans already so that he wouldn’t get caught up with work. You deserve his full attention tonight. He’s the one who arrives at the venue you picked out first, all dressed up nicely for you as he takes you by the hand “Shall we?” 

Mammon

He offered to take you out for a tour in the finest parts of Devildom, wanting to bring you to his favorite places to teach you more about the nightlife in the realm. 

Mammon was bragging about his little date with you to his brothers until Satan eventually says “okay but do you really expect MC to pay for that though? You don’t even have a single Grimm to your name…” 

That’s when he realized that he’s prepared for everything except financially. He did try to work to get some money but of course to him, the quickest way to get Grimm was through the casino. 

For once it did work and he was having a good winning streak. He’s never had this much Grimm before and he loves it! He doesn’t want to stop! He’ll milk everyone dry while lady luck is still smiling at him.

But his fixation on gambling got in his head that he forgot why he was doing this for. When you tried to call him for the 5th time, he finally picked up. 

“Whaddya need? I’m the middle of winnin’ something big here!” He says with his hands full of Grimm. Then he hears the disappointment in your voice when you realize he ditched you for gambling and he panics. 

“Ah… I see.” Is all you say. That’s enough to scare the living hell out of Mammon, a fear that rivals the chills he gets from Lucifer. 

“W-wha—?! N-no wait MC I just—“ before he could explain you dropped the call on him. You never really do that since you’re always so patient with him, so he knows that he really fucked up big time. 

He pulls out his winnings early and drives like a madman on his way to you. You were already walking back to the house with a sad look on your face. To think that Mammon was the one who was the one who wanted to bring you here, but he ended up just gambling. It was only fair to be upset.

You were a couple streets away from the House of Lamentation when Mammon drove up by your side and quickly ran to you, pulling you in for a hug. “I’d never forget about you!” He says, not wanting to let you go until you hear him out. 

“I just… I wanted to get some extra Grimm to treat ya out for tonight. I didn’t mean to ditch you, honest!” You can see the little puppy eyes through his shades, the Great Mammon on the verge of tears as he spends the next five minutes apologizing to you over and over until you forgive him. 

You give in, knowing now that he was just trying to get Grimm for you and not to indulge in his Greed. It makes him smile again and he practically lifts you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. 

“Come on! The night is still young, so let’s splurge a little yeah? My treat” He says before driving around the city to enjoy the nightlife as he promised. 

He decided to spoil you for today to make up for his mistakes. Whether it’s food or something that caught your eye, Mammon got you covered. May have bought you a bit too much, but it’s worth it to see you smile again. 

He does get scolded by his brothers afterwards for almost forgetting after Mammon spent three days bragging about it to them. You only told Asmo once after he asked how it went and he ended up telling the rest through gossip. Poor Mammon. 

Levi

There was an upcoming event in the mall nearby that sells some fan merch of your favorite series, and Levi was the first person you thought of to bring with you since he’s always going to those. 

Just as he was getting ready to leave, he finds a notification on his phone about a surprise early release of this anime he’s been dying to watch. It was supposed to be released tomorrow but it’s already available today! What kind of fan would he be if he missed this?!

Without realizing it, he finds himself glued to the computer watching the new episodes. You tried contacting him since you were already by the event waiting for him before so you two can go in together. After almost an hour, you decided to stop trying and go in yourself. 

Levi was already halfway when Mammon went into his room without permission. He wanted to snoop around to see if he could get his hands on something valuable, but he was much more surprised to see Levi still here. 

“You idiot! What are you doing here?! I’m too busy right now so go away!” Levi hissed, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Eh? I thought ya were supposed to be out in the mall with MC though?” Mammon says, motioning at the Ruri-chan themed clock in his room where her magical staff is pointing at late-o-clock.

“…” in a matter of seconds, Levi is now screaming as he sprints from his room all the way up to the mall. 

He opened his phone on his way to the mall and he panicked even more to see all the missed calls and texts from you. He’s normally good at scheduling, so he can’t believe he forgot about this one!

“SORRI I WND SO LTE IMMOM MY WAY” is what his shaky hands could type while he was still running, hoping you’re still in the event so he could catch up. Levi will never forgive himself if you’ve already left. 

He eventually spots you sitting alone in a nearby bench outside the event, with a handful of merch that you didn’t seem too happy with. 

He quickly runs up to you, still panting heavily as he basically had to sit down to let his aching legs rest. “S-sorry…” was the first comprehensive thing he could say in between breaths until he calmed down enough to give you a proper apology and explanation. 

Levi was about to go on with his self-destructive “i'm just a yucky otaku and I don’t deserve your time” speech but you’re the one in need of comforting, not him. He knows you’re going to spend your energy trying to cheer him up, but now it’s his turn!

“H-how about we go back in there? Let me buy you something you want! Then we can go home and rewatch your favorite episodes” he offers so that you two would have more quality time together. 

Levi bought you all the merch of your favorite character’s that he can find to compensate. 

Normally, he would’ve gone home and continued the anime he wanted to watch to pick up where he left off. Tonight, he lets you pick out what you wanted to watch and enjoy yourself. 

Satan

There was a new cafe that you wanted to visit with Satan after school, and he was more than happy to accompany you after his classes. You suggested that you both could read a book together there and talk about it, like a little book club meeting over some coffee or tea.

There’s nothing he enjoys more than just relaxing together with a warm drink and a book at hand with his favorite human, so he was looking forward to the last ring of the bell to meet you at the gates.

Though just as he was leaving, he was called for a meeting with Lucifer to arrange some sudden reports. As secretary of the RAD student council, he has no choice but to oversee his duties for the position appointed to him. But as the Avatar of Wrath, he absolutely hates how he needs to follow orders from Lucifer of all people. 

He has half the mind in doing his work, and the other trying to think of how to ingrain curses on the threads of Lucifer’s buttons so they would come undone no matter what to make a fool out of him. Just as he deserves. The thought of his buttons undone during a speech in front of RAD makes him grin.

By the time that Satan was done with everything he needed to do, he realized how late it’s been and saw your messages saying that you’re already by the gates, asking where he was. He ran as fast as he could by the gate, and guilt got worse when he saw you’re not there anymore.

‘Did you already go home? Are you safe? Where could you be?’ Those were the thoughts that were racing in his mind as he panics. He was an hour late after all so it’s understandable that you had to leave, but he doesn’t like the uncertainty of your whereabouts.

Satan texts Asmo asking for you and he receives a reply “Eh? MC said they’re already at the cafe! I thought you two were together?” after knowing that you went there on your own, he starts sprinting to the place he was supposed to escort you in. 

He finds you sitting by the window, alone on a table for two with a drink and a book at hand. Satan already feels bad that he made you go alone, doing the things he promised you two would do together. What’s worse is that you were reading a book that he recommended the other day. 

‘They really wanted to be here with me…’ was his thought as he stared at you from the window with sad eyes. You did end up spotting him from the window, which breaks him from his trance. What is he doing standing here like an idiot? He wastes no time and runs to the entrance.

Satan didn’t care if he banged the door knob against the wall when he stormed in, he quickly rushed to your side and apologized for his tardiness. “I promise MC, I'm never usually late for anything. I never meant to leave you alone like this…” 

You accept his apology and it brings a smile to his face, though he still feels a little guilty. “Why don’t I buy you a pastry to eat? It’s my treat. Then later, we can talk about the book together” it’s an offer you can’t exactly say no to. 

He makes up for his tardiness by spending all the quality time he can with you. You two talk about each other’s thoughts and opinions about the book, then you listen to Satan rant about how it’s all Lucifer’s fault he was late and his plans on ruining the rest of his clothes for the next formal meeting with Diavolo. 

Asmo

Asmo insisted you two go clothes shopping together to update your wardrobe. Given that you’re a new exchange, you didn’t really have a lot of clothes to begin with. Asmo is the best person for this job with his fashion sense, and it sounded like a fun idea to spend time with him so you agreed. 

Before he was about to leave, he finds a package addressed to him and it was the new makeup he’s been waiting for! He’s been itching to make a livestream where he just talks about the product while he applies it, so he does just that. 

A lot of people tuned in of course where he rambles about how the brand is good for his skin and makes him look like an absolute gem. The comments are boosting his ego as he continues to apply the makeup on stream. 

Asmo said that he was already on the way, but that last message was thirty minutes ago and there’s still no sign of him. When you checked up on him for updates, you saw that he’s currently live on Devilgram doing a commentary on the make up he’s been talking to you about for days. 

You know how much he loves doing content like these for his fans, but of course it still hurts that he couldn’t spare that time for you. So you left him a small message stating that you’re going to leave the mall and head to the purgatory hall instead, exiting the live stream as soon as you hit send. 

Asmo saw the notification banner pop up with your message on his phone and for a moment, his viewers thought that maybe the stream lagged because he suddenly stopped moving, frozen in place. 

You don’t see this since you left his stream, but you missed the part where he screams as he frantically grabs his phone with a “sorry loves!” As he ends it. You get a call and before you can get a word in, Asmo is yelling at you to stay first until he gets there. 

You stay there and in ten minutes, Asmo is there panting heavily with make up half done. “I-i didn’t mean to make you wait! Please don’t leave darling” He pleads. His neat appearance was ruined, and he hates the feeling of sweat on his skin. But he needed to catch up to you as soon as he could, he’ll fix himself later. 

Asmo wouldn’t stop apologizing, and he would be ready to make a scene to show how sorry he is. If publicly proclaiming his love for you is what it takes then you know he’d do it. Once you do forgive him, he’s going to stick to your side like glue while he goes shopping with you. 

He’ll treat you tonight by putting on the make up he was trying earlier on you this time. “You’ll look absolutely stunning with this! Especially with the clothes we bought today” and will definitely show you off like an artist unveiling his new masterpiece. 

Beel

After learning from Mammon that there was a brand new restaurant that opened up recently, Beel was so excited to visit it with you. He loves enjoying food with you, and the restaurant serves dishes that are more around your tastes when you check the menu. This makes the food trip all more exciting. 

Beel can’t stop thinking about the little date you two would have, and after checking the menu his stomach is growling in anticipation. He just needs to get through the day and he’s ready to meet you later for dinner. 

Though it wasn’t that easy since his coach needed him to train extra for an upcoming Fangol match. It was going to be a big competition apparently, so the coach needed everyone to be ready. 

The extensive work out really made him break a sweat, and he’s starving by the end of his training. But the rumbling of his tummy and cravings made him realize he forgot to update you about the time. He dives for his phone and finds several messages from you so he panics. 

Beel immediately calls you “M-MC! Sorry I didn’t mean to be so late! Are you still there?!” He asks as he practically runs out without taking a shower first. His shirt is definitely drenched in sweat but he hates the thought of making you wait any further.

You told him that you were already on the way home, since it’s been almost an hour and by the time you got there, the restaurant was already fully booked. You try to hide it, but Beel can hear from the other line how sad you sounded.

Beel is upset since he knows that you two would have had such a lovely time by now, eating the dishes you two called dibs on when you checked the menu together in his room. He feels that he let you down by not showing up on time. 

You two meet up halfway and you find Beel, sweating and panting heavily as he meets your eyes. Beel wanted to hug you to apologize, but he didn’t want you to feel how sweaty he was. 

While you wiped the sweat off his face, he pouted at you. “Sorry…” He mumbled. Beel was a man of few words, but that was enough to convey his feelings. You know he doesn’t really mean it, so you forgive him. 

You two spent the night getting take out dinner nearby since Beel practically sprinted on an empty stomach after hours of training and he’s not going to last any longer without food. It may not be the restaurant that you both planned, but the company is still pleasant.

After explaining his tardiness, you both decide to go to the restaurant together after his fangol match to celebrate. It would be like his reward for working so hard. That idea got Beel so motivated, he basically bulldozed his way to victory in that game.

Belphie

There was going to be a meteor shower tonight in Devildom and Belphie was ecstatic at the thought of it. It’s not uncommon in Devildom compared to the human realm, but it’s always a sight to see. So he wants to bring you along next time to the planetarium to watch it with him. 

Belphie figured that he still has enough time after his classes end to take a quick nap. Though being the Avatar of Sloth, a nap was approximately 8 hours for him and he’d still feel tired. What’s worse is that Belphie can fall asleep anywhere anytime, he can be very difficult to wake up too. 

Belphie nap was interrupted from the sound of Beel’s voice as his twin shook him awake. “Mmm… five more minutes…” The youngest groaned, eyes still shut as he tries to get some more sleep. 

“Belphie it’s been 5 hours” was enough words for the Avatar of Sloth to wake up and stand. “WHAT?!” He panics as he looks up the sky to see the meteors already falling. Crap!

Belphie makes his way to you at home and he finds you by the planetarium, sitting alone as you stare up the meteors. He can see that you prepared pillows and a blanket on the empty space next to you, and it aches him. You were clearly looking forward to this. 

Without a word, He gives you a hug from behind as he buries his face by your neck. He’s a little afraid to face you personally, because he doesn’t need to see the disappointment in your face to know that. 

“Sorry MC… I really am” He mumbles softly, holding you close. He didn’t even bother trying to watch the last few minutes of the meteor shower anymore, he just held you close for the whole duration. 

Only when you placed a hand above his that it made him look up at you again. You don’t need words, but he knows what you were trying to say. So he continues to embrace you. 

He doesn’t understand how you could forgive him so easily but… he’ll take it. He’ll vow to make sure you two enjoy the next meteor shower soon. 

Both of you just spent some quality time together, soaking in the silence for a while as the last meteor fell. You break the silence by asking about the constellations in the sky, and Belphie was happy enough to indulge in your questions and began talking about the stories behind it. 

Even if there were no more meteors, it was still a magical night under the stars. You two kept on talking and talking until you both fell asleep on the nest of pillows in the planetarium. Beel had to carry you both to your rooms.

Belphie started asking Beel for favors to wake him up in case he has an important event with you upcoming so he wouldn’t miss it again. He doesn’t trust any of the brothers except his twin with this role. 

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

Hello, fair warning. This chapter gave me deep feelings. Please understand that my feelings are required to be in capital letters.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did. 

I HAVE NO WORDS. MATTHEW. MICHAEL. MURDOCK YOU IDIOT. YOU MASSIVE BARELY FUNCTIONING ADULT. YOU DOLT. IDEK WHAT TO SAY.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

YOU WALKED OUT FIRST, YOU STALE BAGUETTE.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?!?!?! BAILING ON DATES, NOT TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF, TAKING THE READER FOR GRANTED. ALWAYS EXPECTING HER TO BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL LIKE A FUCKING DOORMAT. BELLA, ISTG. COME GET UR MAN. I AM TURNING FERAL

Also, sidenote. I think this is a common trope in superhero stories??? The difficulty of living a double life, like in this context for example. He should always be Matthew Michael Murdock, first and Daredevil, second. Matt can live without Daredevil but Daredevil can't exist/live without Matt. That's how it should be,anyways. Am I making sense?

Anyways, point is....he managed to live a life without Daredevil most of his existence. So why put being Matt on the back burner?!?! Take care of the host body, ya know? Without it there wont be a Daredevil. Dont let your alter ego take control of your life.

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

SHE ACCEPTED YOU. BRAIN DEAD AND ALL. WHY CANT YOU AT LEAST MAKE AM EFFORT AND MEET HER HALFWAY????!!!!!! MATTHEW. PLEASE. I AM BEGGING YOU. 🥹🥹🥹

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Daredevil works hard ... but Foggy works harder ..by cleaning up Matt's mess. Foggy, baby, I'm sorry that this trick ass hoe is messing with your schedule. It will never happen again 😩😩😩

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

✨ IN FRANKLIN PERCY NELSON WE TRUST, YALL. ✨ 🕊️

He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

please tell me he does that and he hears the lil baby devil's heart beat and mistakes it for the reader moving on with another person. MAKE IT LONG AND ANGSTY THAT IT MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH HURLING CRYING SCREAMING. Please and thank you 💕

additional thots:

- Karen and Foggy are working over time, they should be paid for it honestly.

- Cannot wait for Matt to to grovel, ik ive been saying this since ch.01 but listen...I AM WEAK FOR A MAN GROVELING. KNOWING THEY WERE WRONG. THERE'S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT IT, OKAY?!?!

- also........I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE MAKE UP SEX THAT WILL EVENTUALLY HAPPEN. IDC IF ITS ROUGH AND HARD OR TENDER AND SOFT. BUT PLEASE PLEASE MAKE THEM CRY OUT OF PLEASURE, PAIN, AND RELIEF. 😌😌😌

This fic is so good. I've been waiting to read every update after work so I can focus on feeling the angst ✨

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one is entirely in Matt's POV and I'm curious to see how y'all react to his side of things! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably@two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music

The ear-splitting and repeated honking of car horns on the street below harshly woke Matt, the sound shrill and piercing first thing in the morning. Seconds later the continuing noise drew forth a pounding headache that reverberated painfully in his head. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he rolled onto his side with a groan, his entire body loudly protesting the movement. He could feel a few new bruises he'd added to the others already scattered around his body, the new ones violently throbbing along his lower back and his left shoulder as consciousness abruptly returned to him.

Matt had been out well into the early morning hours running around Hell’s Kitchen tracking a man by the name of Petrov. He was the man that Matt had recently come to learn was the current leader of the Russian mafia now settled in his city. All of last night he had been trying to figure out where the new shipment of drugs would be coming into Hell's Kitchen at, but he'd yet again come home without the information he'd wanted. In a sour mood, he'd taken his anger out on a mugger while returning to his apartment, leaving the man more battered than he probably should have. 

And his sour mood quickly returned when he realized he was alone in his bed again, the cold from the lack of you often curled under the sheets with him exceptionally noticeable this morning–more than it had been for the past few weeks. Because you had left him, deciding not to stay and wait for him to return the other night. Leaving him like everyone else always did, unable to accept that he and the Devil were the same man. That he needed to let that other side of himself out to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did. 

But it sure as hell hadn’t felt like that to him the other night. Not with how quick you were to reject him and walk out on him. You’d never tried to reach out to him all of Friday, either. Whatever important thing you’d wanted to discuss with him the other night must’ve been what he’d initially suspected it to be. That you wanted to end the relationship. Truthfully he hadn’t wanted to hear you say the words out loud which was partially why he didn’t want to give you a chance to speak.

Matt knew he'd been canceling plans on you repeatedly, though he admittedly hadn't realized just for how long he'd been doing it with the way his days had been blurring together from his lack of proper sleep. But it hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to hurt you and he'd felt terrible every single time he had. It always nagged at him while he was out, the memory of the way your heart stuttered each and every time you saw him in his suit never far from his mind as he tried to focus on his late night task. 

And it wasn't like he was out cheating on you or ditching you for his friends. What he was doing was the equivalent of being needed at a job–because that's how he saw what he did. As a responsibility he had to the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He'd honestly thought he'd be able to make it up to you once he'd gotten the situation with the Russians under control, but apparently he wasn't important enough for you to wait for him. And sure, he had to admit that he'd been awful to you the other night with the way he'd spoken to you, but the judgment and rejection from you had really upset him, as did the fear of hearing you tell him you were done with him. So he'd closed himself off to you, hoping to lessen how much you leaving him would hurt.

But Matt didn’t want to think about that this morning. His head ached enough from all the physical exertion last night and from not getting enough sleep. Those damn cars honking had ruined whatever sleeping in he hoped he’d have this Saturday morning, the sound of the city far too loud for him to lay back down and fall asleep now. 

Though if you’d been here–

With a growl Matt tore the sheets off of himself, tossing his legs over the side of his bed and shoving all thoughts of you to the side. He didn’t want to think about you right now. He wanted coffee, desperately hoping that would wake him up and help the throbbing of his head.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, half limping in pain as he walked, he navigated his way through his living room and into the kitchen. He went straight for his coffee maker, turning it on and preparing a pot of coffee. He knew he was going to need a few cups already. 

As the coffee brewed, Matt leant his back against the kitchen counter. His eyes closed as he ran a hand over his tired face, aware that his apartment seemed noticeably quieter and lonelier without you here. He’d been noticing that for weeks now, and every time he did he felt his heart sink a bit in his chest. Though this morning he almost felt sick at the emptiness here, as if someone had punched him right in the gut when he realized you were never coming back.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

The coffee machine began to sputter out his coffee, the noise loud and irritating to his ears this morning. Matt turned around, reaching a hand up to grab a mug from the open shelf on the wall. But a round of knocks coming from his apartment door rang out and he hesitated, his hand hovering just before the row of coffee cups. Brows furrowing together, his head shifted over his shoulder as he wondered how he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone had approached his door. Though after a few seconds he soon realized that it was Foggy standing in the hallway and flipping through some paperwork that he’d brought with him.

Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he turned, a frown settling on his lips as he made his way through his kitchen and down his entryway hall. He unlocked the door, briskly swinging it open. It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy had startled in the hall at the abruptness.

“Fog,” Matt greeted flatly.

He could practically feel the way his friend’s eyes scanned over him, the sound of Foggy’s face shifting into a frown not lost on Matt. He imagined the bruises were quite visible, especially since he hadn’t managed to put a shirt on.

“You look like shit, Matt,” Foggy stated bluntly. “How long were you out last night?”

Matt turned, leaving the door open as he half-limped, half-shuffled his way back down the entryway hall. He listened as Foggy stepped inside, closing the door after himself before slipping out of his shoes. By the time Foggy had followed Matt into the kitchen, Matt had already managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, drinking a sip of it black.

“You want some coffee?” Matt asked him, avoiding the initial question.

“No, I’m good,” Foggy answered slowly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter and leaning over it. “I had some earlier before I left to come deliver the documents I told you I was bringing over this morning. Which I’m guessing…you forgot about, judging by the fact that it looks like you just rolled out of a dumpster that you used for a bed.”

Matt’s lips pursed together at Foggy as he drew his mug back up to his mouth, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. “Not a morning for jokes, Fog.”

“Is there ever with you lately?” Foggy grumbled. 

Matt drank down more of his coffee, the throbbing of his head not helped by the way Foggy was drumming his fingers along the countertop. He could hear the way his friend was looking around his apartment, probably noticing the way it had looked neater than usual. Which was due to the fact that neither of you had been in his apartment much for the past few weeks. The moment he heard Foggy’s mouth open, inhaling that small bit of breath, Matt knew what he was going to say. And it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Where’s your other half?” Foggy asked, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door, entirely missing the way Matt had winced at the question. “Thought she usually spent the weekends with you. Is she still asleep?”

Matt ground his teeth together, roughly exhaling a sharp breath. He knew he’d ask about you.

“No, she’s not here,” Matt replied coldly.

He heard the way Foggy had stiffened against the counter at his words and the tone of his voice. Slowly, Foggy’s head turned back towards Matt. Matt’s lips thinned out in irritation, not liking the minute shift in Foggy’s posture.

“So the documents–”

“What’d you do, Matt?” Foggy asked sharply, cutting him off.

Matt’s hand gripped his coffee mug tighter in his fist, surprising even himself when it didn’t break in his grip. His jaw clenched at the question and the accusation from his best friend.

“What makes you think this was my fault?” he growled back, voice low and dangerous.

Foggy was nodding swiftly as if he’d known something had happened. He didn’t seem remotely affected by Matt’s obvious anger, clearly prepared to discuss this more. That only annoyed Matt further.

“So you two broke up? Karen and I thought as much with the way you’d been mopey and snippy around the office yesterday,” Foggy said. “What happened? Because one minute you’re telling me she’s the one, that she’s going to move in with you soon, and the next–” he waved a hand around the apartment, “–you’re a damn bachelor again. So what’d you do? Because I know damn well she didn’t end things, not with the way she always looked at you like the sun rises and falls out of your ass, Matt.”

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Matt stalked across the kitchen in aggravation, slamming his mug down onto the counter that separated him from Foggy. The hot liquid splashed over his hand as Foggy briefly jumped at his outburst. The faint scent of fear soon hitting his nose was what had Matt’s eyes snapping shut, aware he was getting too riled up at this topic. That his anger was finally starting to make Foggy nervous.

Because it was about you and it hurt.

“She said she had something she needed to tell me,” Matt replied through clenched teeth, trying to rein in his frustration and heartache. “But I needed to go out as Daredevil. I was planning to interrupt a meeting with the Russians. The ones I’d been telling you about.” He exhaled a sharp breath, his left hand clamping onto the kitchen counter as he continued, hoping to ground himself and control his rage. “She was upset that I was going out again when we’d had plans. Said she really needed to talk to me. So I told her she could tell me afterwards when I came back and she got upset.”

There was a brief silence following his explanation, Matt hearing the way Foggy’s head had shifted to the side.

“And you were…growly Devil when you were talking with her weren’t you?” Foggy asked, gesturing a hand at Matt. “Like you are now?”

Matt grunted, shame burning through him as his eyes once again fell shut. Yes. 

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

“That’s–that’s not exactly right,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I didn’t bail on her. The city needed me, Fog.”

“Sounds like she needed you more, buddy,” Foggy countered.

Matt’s eyes snapped open, his sightless gaze landing somewhere near Foggy in a glare. “I gave her the option to stay and wait for me to come back. To tell me what she needed to then. She chose to leave. I haven’t heard from her since, so I’m guessing her important talk was about her wanting to tell me that she wanted to end things. That she couldn’t handle me being Daredevil after all.”

Foggy scoffed, shaking his head at Matt. He could hear the way his friend’s mouth had yet again curved into a frown. Something like guilt twisted in Matt’s stomach at the way that night had played out but he quickly buried it under his anger and hurt. 

“Why do you do that?” Foggy asked softly.

“ What ?” Matt snapped.

“This,” Foggy answered, waving a hand frantically at Matt. “That self-sabotaging thing you do. Things were good with you both. Great, actually. You were happy , Matt. And then you go diving into your hero bullshit and push people away. Making assumptions about her wanting to end things like you know that’s exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not self-sabotage,” Matt shot back. 

“Then why’d you push her away?” Foggy countered.

“Because the city needs me!” Matt exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands on his hips. “You know that and she knew that!”

A glaring silence settled in Matt’s apartment after his loud outburst. Matt’s tongue slipped out, wetting his lips repeatedly in his agitation. He heard the very faint sigh Foggy emitted, even with the way his headache had worsened.

“I think you’re reading things entirely wrong, man,” Foggy said, tone softer. “I don’t think she was trying to break up with you. I think you fucked up. Big time. And judging by the way you’re incredibly defensive and angry, you really, really love her.”

Matt’s nostrils flared, his eyes still glaring sharply in the direction of his friend. Though a part of himself was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Foggy was onto something. At least, about him fucking up. He was still pretty certain you’d wanted to break up with him. Because he had been canceling plans on you for weeks now. And you’d been getting hurt by him doing that pretty quickly, too. And he’d noticed, but he kept on putting off making things up to you because he’d been too focused on prioritizing the Russians. He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

That guilt and shame stirred in Matt’s stomach again, threatening to overtake his own rage and heartache. But he couldn’t have been wrong about what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? Because what else could it possibly have been besides an ultimatum for him to quit being Daredevil and to choose you instead?

“I think,” Foggy continued slowly, “that you need to go call her up. Put your tail between your legs and go beg for her forgiveness, Matt. Because you fucked up, admit it. I can see that realization dawning on your face right now, buddy. Talk to her. Apologize on your goddamn knees every day until she takes you back. Because we both know she was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“She was,” Matt whispered, his gaze dropping down to the floor. “She always was.”

“Then go get her!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto Matt’s countertop. “Fix things!”

He stepped around the kitchen counter, reaching out to slap Matt good-naturedly on the shoulder. Matt winced at the gesture when Foggy’s hand landed on a bruise and Foggy quickly muttered out an apology. 

Rubbing his arm, Matt let out a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix things, Fog?” he asked. “What if she really doesn’t love the part of me that is Daredevil like she thought she did? I can’t give this up. I’m not going to.”

“There’s no way that bullshit is the reason,” Foggy told him. “Not with all the different ways she’s been there for you and your vigilante ass this whole time, Matt. She loves Daredevil just as much as you. But as for fixing things?” Foggy shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I think your first step is to reach out to her, though. Try to get her to talk to you. Apologize and maybe find out what it was she needed to tell you. Because I’m guessing knowing what that was will tell you how royally you fucked up here.”

“Yeah,” Matt said with a sigh. “You’re probably right. Though I have a feeling she’s not going to want to talk to me.”

“You just keep trying until she does,” Foggy told him. “And if all else fails, maybe you can romantically show up on her fire escape and profess your love to her or something?”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

[howdoyousleep3]

do you think bucky ever plays up the “innocent” persona from when they first started dating just to make steve work for it?? like things are getting ~steamy~ and steve’s abt to put it in and bucky asks him why he’s not wearing a condom and steve is like “???” and bucky swoops in with the “daddy, you know we’ve never done it like that before” and steve catches on real quick

Chaos, chaotic panic, my mind oh my gosh oh my gosh okay.

I took this in a direction that might need some sort of headsup? It’s a roleplay but Steve is actively trying to convince Bucky to let him not use a condom? We know them now and how well-established they are, but it probably requires a headsup. So, if that bothers you please do not continue to read passed this point!

Okay! 😈 This is going to read half like a story and half like a normal Ask response lmao. Bc chaos, nonnie CHAOS.

It’s a super vanilla sex before bed kind of night. TV on, Steve had been reading, and one thing led to another after Bucky leaned over and gave Steve a kiss that had him letting out a Curious Daddy Noise. Super normal weeknight foreplay: kisses that are soft, touches that are intentional, there’s not technically a rush but they’re ready for bed so let’s get a move-on, yeah? Bucky rolls to his side, arches his back and widens his legs like the good boy he is as Steve slicks himself up. It’s right when Steve saddles up, lines himself up and is about to press in, when Bucky makes a soft noise.

“Are you not…are you not wearing a condom?”

Steve almost laughs right in Bucky’s ear but his everything does stutter to a stop, a bit alarmed.

“What? Why…what?”

Bucky twists in Daddy’s grip, turns his head to look up at Steve and there’s something about his demeaner that knocks the wind right out of Steve’s chest but then—

“Daddy, you know we’ve never done it like that before.”

Bucky’s voice is so gentle, so sweet, so feminine-like, that Steve’s dick genuinely jumps in his grip. Bucky’s looking up at him like he’s hesitant, like he’s innocent, like…

Like he’s never done this before.

It clicks after a few seconds. Steve doesn’t know how he made the connection—the way Bucky’s eyebrows come together, the breathiness of his voice, his wide-eyed gaze—but Steve is purring a bit, a noise that sounds faintly like a question mark, taking that leap.

“You don’t want me bare, sugar?”

Steve is almost certain Bucky blushes.

“I…I don’t know. W-we’ve never done that,” he repeats as if he’s trying to remind himself that Steve hasn’t been inside of him, skin on skin, that the times they have had sex Steve has been wrapped up. As if he’s trying to fulfill a role. He knows he is officially picking up what Bucky has laid down for him, a small little role-play offering, this little surprise, and he lets his cock fall from his hand, lets it rest all nestled there between Bucky’s cheeks as he leans half-over Bucky. The arm under Bucky’s neck flexes, pulls him in tight, mouth at his ear.

And he whimpers.

Bucky almost faints right there in his Daddy’s arms can you even imagine. Bucky thinking he’s being the hottest of shit, is gonna surprise his Daddy with a bit of bedroom fun, but then Daddy flips it on him within seconds? How infuriating. Bucky doesn’t crumble entirely though, still wants to play.

“Y-you want that? We’ve…we’ve just never done that…”

Steve’s hips start to roll a bit, like he barely even realizes he’s doing it, just wants some sort of friction for his cock. It is incredibly distracting for Bucky. He had naturally assumed Daddy would take this opportunity and use it to talk about all the reasons Bucky would want Steve to slide in without a condom. He doesn’t expect Steve to tuck him in close and begin to beg for it.

“Oh, honey a’course I want that, fuck. You don’t? Can’t even fucking imagine what you feel like on the inside.”

“I…oh but is it—”

“There’s no better way for Daddy to claim his boy, is there? Wanna be the best Daddy for you, Buck, the best.”

Bucky would no doubt be gasping, no doubt be achy, but hearing Steve’s voice turn a bit frantic in a way that he makes Bucky’s sound all the time has his world completely upside down. Daddy’s beard would be rubbing against the sensitive skin of Bucky’s neck as he pressed kisses into it with little choked-off noises. The arm not trapped between his body and the mattress would reach back to feel and grope at Steve’s naked hip, dig into his ass a bit.

“Bet you’re even warmer without a rubber fuck, baby. Bet you’d make my dick nice and wet, god Daddy wants that, sugar Daddy wants you to make his cock feel so good.” Steve’s lips move against Bucky’s skin as he talks, pleads, ends his groveling with a bitten off noise as he mouths at Bucky’s ear. He’s so easy for this man. Bucky stood no chance but he’s going to make Daddy work for his little come-virgin pussy.

“I…will it feel different? Will it hurt?”

Steve moans, (because innocent Buck is doing things to him, fuck) sucks on Bucky’s jaw before answering, shaking his head vehemently.

“Uh-uh no, sugar it’ll feel even better—” Bucky lets out a hot curious noise because how in the hell could it feel better? — “So much better, oh. Let Daddy in, Buck. Please, let Daddy in.” His hand is on Bucky’s ass cheek now, is pushing at it, spreading him open, and when they both feel Steve line himself up, the press of his cock, they both whimper. Bucky has never experienced a desperate Daddy in such a way, feels like he can’t catch his breath but listens to Steve’s own shaky ones. He thinks he has reached another plane of existence, another level up, but then—

“Just the tip, Buck. Come on, let Daddy show you.”

Y’all. Steve Rogers begging to let him stick just the tip of his dick inside of Bucky might literally end Bucky Barnes. His tummy turns, he moans, spreads his legs just a tiny bit, head going foggy at feeling Steve’s cock between his legs, Steve’s hand on his own dick.

“Yeah, yeah okay but…just a little bit, Daddy m’nervous.”

“Oh, baby thank you, oh I’ll always take care’a you, mhmm,” Steve breathes out in a rush, pressing in in in—

It would literally feel like the two of them were fucking for the first time. They’re entirely caught up in a rapid role-play, completely immersed in their tiny noises, how close they are, how much they’re holding back. It would be a messy position, especially after Bucky shouts and throws his arm up and around Steve’s neck, effectively shoving himself half on top of Steve, legs splayed and spread over Steve’s waist. Steve’s got his hand still on his cock, gripping it and ensuring it doesn’t slip in passed the tip.

“Daddy…Daddy oh it does…does feel different, so different.”

“Yeah mhmm, feels good doesn’t it, Buck? Can really feel how hungry you are now, goddamn.”

And this is the image that was conjured up in my mind as soon as I read this Ask—Bucky holding onto his Daddy on his side, leg and arm slung around Steve, mouths just pressed together in encouragement, and Steve fucking the tip of his cock in and out of Bucky’s ass. His hand would be there to make sure it genuinely is just the tip. Bucky’s noises would be surprised petite ones, eyes wide and mouth open. Steve’s eyebrows would be knit together, panting and Daddy whimpering into Bucky’s open mouth.

What an image.

“More?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Bucky would whimper into Steve’s temple, both looking down the line of Bucky’s body. “Be gentle, Daddy.”

It absolutely is the most time they’ve taken to fuck, the most chaotic they have felt as they do so. A lot of noises pushed out beyond their control, a lot of scrambling, a lot of messy kisses. Steve’s hands on Bucky’s tummy, his arm slung around Bucky’s waist as he controls movements, Bucky’s arm tightening back around Daddy’s neck, startled curious noises that make Steve want to scream pressed into Steve’s temple.

Steve just keeps asking if more is okay, if Bucky’s ready, until they reach the point where Daddy doesn’t need to ask anymore, fully seated and rolling his hips in deep movements. It isn’t rushed either—it’s slow and messy.

“See, honey? Oh, s’Daddy feel good in that tight little ass? You feel so fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ perfect, Buck. So perfect for Daddy. God, I can hear that cock fuckin’ you. Can you hear how messy you are? Gonna make you so messy…”

And Bucky is very much so immersed in this role, drawing from himself at the beginning of their relationship and also pulling from a different side of himself entirely. His noises have been different, have been whinier and amazed, a bit more feminine, has heard Steve’s uncensored curses at Bucky’s choices. He’s following through until the end.

“Daddy! Oh, you’re gonna come inside’a my p-pussy? S’gonna be so m-messy! I don’t…oh I don’t know, Daddy.”

BUT THEN! Then! Steve downright sounds like he’s weeping as he begs Bucky to let him come inside of him! Y’all Bucky’s neck would just drop back onto the pillows, onto Steve’s shoulder idc! Steve’s hips are harsh then, dig in and press up, has such a tight hold onto Bucky, one hell of a grip.

“Buck, Bucky baby please please, sugar lemme fill you up. Lemme fuck this pussy full, lemme mark you from the inside, let Daddy do that, baby please.”

Bucky’s hand is on his own dick, flying over it with a tight fist, gasping and whining, “Want that, Daddy want that so much! Wanna be messy with you, oh want Daddy to make me all wet inside, please please please—”

It has been a long long time since they’ve come with such a force, so uninhibited, so damn near violent. Steve makes an inadvertent show of filling Bucky up, pumps his hips through his orgasm, runs his fingers through Bucky’s sticky chest and maybe wraps a hand around the front of Bucky’s throat. They are completely and entirely swept away in something that should have just been almost routine.

Steve is flabbergasted, Bucky is pleased beyond belief, and they both promise each other that they’re most definitely going to discuss what the fuck just happened in the morning because holy shit how it is 11:30 PM and it’s a Wednesday.

“You’re fuckin’ dangerous, Buck,” is what Steve mumbles sleepily into the top of Bucky’s head as he kisses it, both clean and snuggled under the covers. Bucky is barely awake and only responds with, “S’your fault,” and he’s got Steve there.

Nonnie, you done fucked me up thinking about bitty Buck lookin’ up at his Daddy with that bottom lip, breathing out, “you’re gonna fuck this pussy bare, Daddy?” like they’ve never done it before. I’m going to hell. This one is sticking with me until the end of time. I need more of this roleplay in my life. Should I find a church service and attend? Is it too late today? RIP, time of death 1:47 PM.

[spooky-scary-imagines]

Hi sis! I would STAB for a Luigi largo fic. Maybe we could have a reader who is like a sidekick to Luigi and Luigi really digs her but she ain't getting the hints. Finally, he'd get fed up, stressed out, and a little turned on by their fear. One thing leads to another and things get a little spicy (I can't be the only one who has thought of getting freaky with Luigi, right?) lots of love babe ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

((Groovy! I know I would lol. I hope this works. Lots of love to you too. Also, sidenote: Can y’all please not call me sis? I’m not mad or anything, cause I know I don’t have my name or pronouns in my bio (I’ll change that soon), but it’s just a thing for me. Call me a dumb idiot bitch instead. Like I said in the Patrick Bateman fic, Never Date Your Boss irl! It creates an unhealthy power dynamic. Though I didn’t entirely go the way it sounded like your ask wanted. I just don’t think Luigi is that kinda dude. He’s an awkward, overly-theatric weirdo who has a bad temper and would be super-passive aggressive and never say his feelings.

“God Fucking DAMMIT!” Your boss was in one of his moods again. Great… This could be anything from the company losing some money, to Pavi just picking a fight for no reason, to someone giving him decaf. Not that anyone was asking you, but he might benefit from lessening his caffeine intake. Maybe he’d be less high-strung. But the last person who had suggested that had been gutted like a fish all over the carpet. You’d like to think he wouldn’t do something like that to you, you were his right-hand man after all. Still, you could never be sure with a man like that.

You peeked around the corner. You were right, he was currently ranting and raving about god knows what, while his office looked as if a tornado had gone through it. You lightly rap on the doorframe to his office. “What do you want?” He looks up to see you and pauses for a second before looking back down at the slowly bleeding out body of a Gentern, on the floor at his feet. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Good evening Mr. Largo. Would you like to go over your schedule for tomorrow now?” You’d been here long enough to tune out the horrors of the job and the Largos various violent tendencies. While they tended to act like spoiled brats, often the best approach for them was just to speak with a measure of confidence and be direct. Never let yourself become replaceable, but avoid conflicts. You often had to walk on eggshells, but you’d managed to keep yourself from ending up on the other end of the Repomen or their bosses.

“Sure, whatever, bring it in…” he scowls and sits back at his desk.

You internally rolled your eyes at his attitude and stepped around the body to sit across from him, clipboard in hand. “Well, at 10 o’clock there’s a board meeting regarding advertising-”

“That’s Amber’s job!” They had unofficially divided the company into their three specialties: Amber focused on Marketing and P.R; Pavi oversaw Design and Quality Control; and Luigi worked Production, Distribution, and Payroll. All major company decisions had to be approved by all three.

“I know that sir, but you are still required to attend.” You hear him huff but continue anyway. “After that you have lunch with an investor at 12. From roughly 2-4 you are free from appointments but you do need to review the reports from Distributors 156 to 294 by Friday so then would be a good time to do so. Also Emerson mentioned calling sometime today sometime within then. After that there is a meeting regarding expansion with our eastern competition and potential for a full corporate buyout or conglomeration.”

He let out a groan and rubbed his eyes, “I’m going to stab someone.”

“Me?” you smirked slightly.

He snorted slightly, “Not yet at least.”

“Thank you for your generosity.” You knew you were being a bit of a smartass, but sometimes it made him smirk. To grovel was to become just another piece of meat in the Geneco grinder. He stood up and crossed over to his miniature liquor cabinet he kept in the office. You’d think three liver replacements would teach him something but he showed no sign of not going for his fourth. He poured himself a small tumbler glass and downed it before facing you again. “Are you able to stay late tonight?”

“I suppose. Do you need something?” You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t aware of anything he needed you to do.

His lips pursed and he looks elsewhere. “Well, I was just wondering if…”

“If?”

“Nevermind…Just file these before you sign out.” He handed you a small pile of files. That was far from your job but you held your tongue. When Mr. Largo was in a mood it was best to just roll your eyes and take it. You turned to leave when you felt a hand on your arm. You turned back, confused. “Wait, er-” He let go and his brow furrowed as if he was having an internal argument.

“Mr. Larg-”

“Can you just-arggh!” he made a noise of frustration like he was trying to hold back a yell of rage.

“Mr. Largo!” He seemed to snap out of his own angry digressing to look back at you. ”If I made a mistake. Tell me. If there is something you need me to do. Tell me.” Your face softens a bit now that he was listening, “I’m here to help. I do my best as someone in my position can. Just talk to me?!”

He looked at you for a moment and his face scrunched up a bit like he was about to yell. Instead, he leaned forwards and before you could react caught your lips with his. It was far from the long-awaited passionate embrace you had imagined. He smelled like sweat and coffee mixed with an expensive, but shitty cologne. His lips were harsh and for a guy seemingly always flocked by Genterns, he didn’t kiss like a man with a lot of experience. Still, it was so…him. It was perfect. He pulled away too soon. His normal frown was back but it was much less threatening when his cheeks were steadily reddening and he looked almost worried about your reaction. You knew better than to laugh because he’d take it wrong and you’d be on the slab in a second, but the whole thing was so ridiculous! “Why did you- Why me- Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

He held his hands out as if in exasperation and confusion, “I tried. You just couldn’t tell.”

“Giving someone extra work so they have to stay late usually makes people think you don’t  like them Casanova.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart!” Jesus, that might be the first genuine smile you’d seen him crack in a long time.

“How about instead of paperwork, tomorrow night we do lunch? Can’t be too unprofessional right?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes but still smiling slightly, “I think we’re beyond that at this point.”

You chuckled and shook your head as he walked you towards the door, “Have a good night…” Right before you left you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “Luigi~”

[with-all-my-heart-arwen]

The Scare

A/N:  An AU fic about Arthur and Gwen and a possible life changing event.

The sun is bright as it filters in from the wide curtainless windows.  The office continues to buzz with busyness and life seems to move right along despite the turmoil Gwen is feeling inside.  She sighs heavily as she packs her meager belongings into a cardboard box.  She’d had the desk for three weeks and now her dream internship was at an end.  She was only standing up for herself, something her father taught her, and now she feels as if she’s being punished for not allowing a client to talk down to her.

She can feel the eyes of the other office occupants as they glance her way, some with sympathy and some with a good riddance smirk.  Her choice of vocation is competitive and she has already mired her path to success.  The realization of loss is heavy and stifling. She tosses the last few items into the box, grabs her purse and exits with her head held high.  Once she’s in her car, the tears start to stream down her cheeks and she can’t muster the energy to start the vehicle and drive away. She reaches for her mobile and taps the last number called.

He answers hurriedly. “Hey.  I’m kind of busy at the moment.  Can I ring you back?”

She is so choked up she can barely talk.  “Ar….Arthur…..”

“Guinevere….what’s wrong? What’s happened?”  He asks anxiously, noticing her difficulty to speak.

“I….I need you.”

“It’s fine.  Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you,” he offers.

“Can you…..meet me at the park?  By the fountain?’  She asks.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, they are walking hand in hand as Gwen relays the incident with the client and then her boss and her subsequent firing.

“I thought for sure she’d speak up for me or at least see my side of things.  She completely threw me under the bus and told me I should have never spoken to a client in that manner.”  She pauses as she looks her boyfriend in the eye.  “I wasn’t cross with her like she was with me but I wanted her to know I would not tolerate being talked to like I was an imbecile.  How was that wrong?”

“It wasn’t wrong at all.” He shakes his head.  “Maybe you can speak with Isabel again, explain yourself….”

“You want me to grovel after the way she treated me?  She didn’t have to fire me you know.  This was an isolated incident.  Maybe I didn’t handle it as I should have.  Maybe I should have allowed the client to speak to me the way she did.”

“No.  You weren’t wrong for standing up for yourself.  I just hate to see you so miserable.”

“Well you’d better get used to it.  I can’t afford my flat now so I guess I’ll go back to Reading with dear old dad.  That means an hour commute each day for school, add in the wear and tear on the car and it all equals misery in my book.” She stops walking and drops his hand. “Oh Arthur what am I going to do?”

She feels awful asking her boyfriend of six months for answers but she is desperate.  Her life here was starting to come together nicely and now she appears to be backtracking.  It’s not fair.

He steps in and hugs her tightly.  “It will be fine.  I promise.” He places his hands on either side of her face.  “Why not start plans for your own business?”

“Are you forgetting I have one more year of uni?  No one’s going to take a graduating senior seriously.  I have to have that degree in hand.  Not to mention a bit of experience under my belt,” she reminds him.

“Ok.  Well this will leave you more time to devote to your studies. You may even finish early,” he suggests.

“Did I fail to mention my other problem?”  She lets out a soft breath.  “I need to complete an internship to get all my credits to graduate.  I’ve clearly mucked that up now.”  Her voice breaks on the last word and Arthur cringes, wishing he could take it all away.

“Let’s solve at least one of these problems.  Move in with me.  That way you won’t be back with your dad, you won’t have to drive so far, and I’ll cook breakfast each morning.”

Gwen smiles and wipes her tears.  “Eggs and toast?”

“Only the best for you.”

“Oh Arthur please be serious.  I really need some answers here.”

He frowns.  “Who says I’m not serious?”

“I couldn’t do that. I mean, it’s too soon.  We’ve only been dating for a few months.  What would everyone think?”

“Who cares what others think?  I understand this would be a big step for us but….I’m ready.”

“Ready?  Ready for what exactly?”

“Guinevere….I love you. Moving in together is a big commitment and I want that…..with you.”

“I…..I love you too Arthur but I don’t want you to feel obligated just because I’m having a bit of bad luck,” she states.

“This is not about your incident today.  This is about two people in love….taking the next step.”

She looks at him for a few seconds, recognizing his seriousness.  “Well, since you put it that way…..”

They laugh and she loops an arm through one of his as they exit the park.

Two months later

Gwen has ensconced herself into Arthur’s living quarters seamlessly.  He made good on his promise to prepare her breakfast every morning, she attended her classes during the day, he worked until six most evenings and she usually had dinner prepared for them once he was home.  Their lives merged almost perfectly.  The only thing she hadn’t accomplished was securing another internship and she had to have that in place within the next few weeks in order to complete her graduation requirements.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit stressed over it but she had a couple of prospects and she was just waiting for an interview.   She puts the finishing touches on tonight’s dinner and goes over a couple of assignments while she waits for Arthur to arrive.  She smiles when she hears the lock turn on the door and the love of her life enters their home.  He walks over to her and plants a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Sorry I’m late.  My father is really bad at knowing when to call it quits.”  He sets his keys in a bowl on the coffee table and moves towards the stairs.  “I’m going up to change. Be right back.”

That night was like so many others they’ve had.  Discussing their days, current events, news from friends, etc.  They spend an hour or so on their devices, checking emails, work obligations, school assignments and then they take a long hot shower together that ends with sensual lovemaking in his oversized king bed.

The next day, Gwen is seated at the coffee shop near her school with friends.

“Where’s Jessica?” She wonders.  

“Sick with cramps. She has them something awful.  I feel sorry for her,” Dreena answers.

The others continue their conversation but Gwen is stuck on the word cramps.  It automatically brings to mind her monthly cycle and she realizes she hasn’t gotten it yet.  She quickly thinks back to last month and knows she should’ve had her period by now. She takes out her mobile and pulls up the calendar to figure out just how late she is.  She gasps and tries not to panic as her heart rate increases with the thought of what could be causing her late period.

“Gwen are you ok?” Eugenia asks.

“Yeah….I…..yes I just remembered an assignment that’s due.  I really need to go.  I’ll see you guys later.”  She grabs her belongings and makes a beeline for her car.  She picks up her mobile several times to ring Arthur but she’s not sure what she would say, so she drives home and waits for him.  She can’t even think about eating she is so consumed with her thoughts.

The clock reads 7:30 and she scoffs as she thinks, ‘of all nights for him to be late’.  He did send a text earlier but she thought late would be 6:30 or 7.  At this rate, he could be even later and she knows she will be out of her mind in only a few more minutes.  She grabs her shoes and rushes down the stairs ready to snatch up her keys and drive to the nearest drug store.

Arthur walks through the door looking a bit disheveled.  “Hi love. Sorry I’m so late.  Merlin actually closed a deal and we had to celebrate.”

Gwen stands silently, looking at him.

“Are you ok?”  He asks.

“I’m late.”

“Late for what?”

“I mean…..I’m late.”

Her boyfriend’s eyebrows go up in surprise as his mouth forms a silent ‘oh’.  “Have you taken a test?  Do you know?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

He nods slowly. “Okay.  Okay….well let’s uh…..let’s get a test.”

“A test?”  She agrees.  “Yes we should get a test.”

They take his car and drive a few minutes away to a nearby drug store.  The entire time Gwen is racking her brain trying to think of how this could have happened if it has actually happened.  She and Arthur were careful.  They used condoms and she was on the pill although she was a bit forgetful from time to time.  Surely that wouldn’t result in a pregnancy?

She places the test on the counter to purchase it only to have Arthur drop a big box of condoms right next to it.  She gives him an annoyed look and remains silent as he retrieves some cash from his wallet and purchases their items.

The silence between them continues on the ride home, her mind still racing as she makes a beeline for the bathroom upstairs.  He follows at a slower pace and sits on the bed quietly.  He checks his watch, wondering how long this would take.  He stands quickly as he hears the door open. She holds a white device in her hand and shakes her head.

“It says I’m not pregnant.”

Arthur lets out a loud ‘Woo!’  He claps his hands together, then scrubs his face with them, releasing a relieved breath. “That was close.”  He walks toward her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Gosh I feel like we dodged a bullet.”

Gwen scoffs.  “I didn’t know you’d be quite so relieved.”

Arthur scoffs back. “Well aren’t you?”

“Yes…….and……no,” she answers.

“What?  What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.  The thought of being pregnant terrified me but now that I know I’m not…..I guess I’m just a bit disappointed,” she admits.

“Disappointed? Guinevere, we are not ready for a child. You haven’t graduated uni and I’ve just started a leadership role in my father’s company.  The last thing we need is a baby.”

“I know that Arthur. Don’t you think I know that?  You just…..you’ve just made me feel like a child with me would be the last thing you’d want.  If two people love each other, isn’t it natural that they’d want children together?”

“Children?  We’ve never even discussed children.  You’ve never expressed a desire to have any and to be honest I haven’t given it much thought.  All I know is that I’m not ready to change nappies and be up all hours of the night with a screaming infant.”

“You make it sound so dismal and I think it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world,” she answers softly.

“I’m sure it is beautiful for those who plan it and want it.  I’m not saying we won’t have kids but it’s just not something that should happen now,” he offers.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind having kids with me?”

He takes his time answering her.  For some reason becoming a father is something that terrifies him.  His mother died giving birth to him and his father never truly got over her death. He’s not sure he can put the woman he loves in the same predicament.  “Can we please discuss this later?  I’m feeling a little drained right now.”

“Arthur…..I need to know. I love you but if you don’t see a future for us……..”

“What are you talking about? We had a scare Guinevere.  We’re ok now and we know to be more cautious in future.”

“But if we don’t want the same things then how can we stay together?”

“There’s no urgency here. How about we revisit this in another…….five years?”

Five years?  She watches dumbfounded as Arthur removes his jacket and tie and leaves the room.

That night, Arthur pulled her into his arms and held her closely.  The previous scare and conversation lingered in the room but they didn’t discuss it any further.  Gwen was surprised by her feelings and Arthur’s admission.  She replayed the conversation in her head again and again, her thoughts keeping her awake long into the early morning hours.

Two weeks later

“Arthur, I need to talk to you,” Gwen expresses as they place their dinner plates in the sink.

He nods.  “I know what it’s about and I haven’t changed my mind.”

“So are you admitting there is no future for us…..that we want different things?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying we aren’t ready to be parents.  Don’t you agree?”  He wonders.

“Yes but…..if we’re going to have a future together, shouldn’t we discuss the things we want and expect when it comes to family?”

“It’s not a conversation we have to have right now.  We have plenty of time,” Arthur reminds her.

Gwen accepts that as his reluctance to discuss a future therefore he must not want a future that includes her and what she wants.  This only added to the stress she was experiencing which resulted in a late period. She realizes she needs to relieve some of that stress so her decision was the right one. “Well, I’ve accepted an internship.”

Arthur smiles, relieved to change the subject.  “That’s great!”

“In France.”

Her lover falters. “Wh…what?  In France?  Why?”

“I need to get serious about this, Arthur.  I scratched France off my list because I couldn’t bear being away from you but if I truly want to graduate and if I truly want the experience, I need to accept the opportunities granted to me.”

“So you’re leaving just like that?”

“It’s for 6 weeks and I’ve been approved to complete my courses online for that duration.  It’s all going to work out.”

“But what about us?”

“You’ve made it clear that we should concentrate on our careers right now and I’ve decided that you’re right.”

“Are you dumping me?” He doesn’t give her time to answer as he steps to her and lifts her chin to look directly into her eyes.  “I love you.”  He swallows nervously.  “If this is about a baby….then….we’ll have one.  I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I love you too but I think some time apart is what we need now.  I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Great coz I don’t want this.  I want you to stay.”

“I want you to take this time to consider what you truly want.  If you don’t see yourself as a father in a couple of years then we want different things, Arthur, and we shouldn’t be together if our expectations don’t coincide.”

He motions to say more but Gwen crushes her lips to his, pushing her tongue into his mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck.  She pushes her body against his and gasps as Arthur pulls back.

“Guinevere, we need to talk about this.”

“I leave in two days, Arthur.  I want to spend that time wrapped in your arms.”  Not another word is spoken as they resume their kiss and move into their bedroom.

The next few weeks are torturous for the both of them but they contend by keeping busy, Arthur in his new position at his father’s company and Gwen with her thriving internship. They talk on the phone daily, send each other text messages and emails and the 6 weeks are done before they realize it.

Gwen can barely contain her excitement as she presses the garage opener and parks her car beside Arthur’s.  She leaves her bags in the boot as she hurriedly unlocks the door and enters their home.  Arthur stands by the kitchen counter and she races to him, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly.  His arms snake around her waist and he kisses her neck soundly.

“I missed you so much,” she gasps then kisses him gently.

“I missed you too.”

“Arthur, I want to apologize.  I did a lot of thinking while I was away but I couldn’t say this over the phone or in an email.  I was wrong to make you feel like you had to tell me exactly what you wanted for your future.  We have time and I hope you can forgive me.  I wasn’t very understanding and I don’t want to lose you.  I love you with all my heart.”

He smiles.  “I want to apologize too.  I allowed my knowledge of what happened to my parents to cloud my judgment about my own future.  I will admit that I don’t know what the future holds for us but as long as I’m with you I don’t care.  I love you, Guinevere, more than anything.”

They kiss passionately, their love for one another more evident and stronger than ever.  She grabs his hand and leads his towards the stairs.

“I’ve dreamt about you almost every night for 6 weeks.  I hope you’re prepared to remain in bed for the next few days.”

Arthur laughs as they climb the stairs together, enter their bedroom, close the door and start to disrobe before falling onto the bed where they make love slowly and intensely.

[aurumacadicus]

Doc title: Don't forget the cheese!

Hahaha I actually struggled with this one a bit. Luckily we have AvAc for the rescue!

Don’t Forget the Cheese!

It’s something of a process to be able to ask Tony on a date. Spider-Man had mentioned something about Scott Pilgrim and giggled about it before ducking away.

First you had to go to Pepper, who went through Tony’s schedule to see if he even had free time for dating. Once that was ascertained, the next person in line was James Rhodes. Jim didn’t have many requirements for dating Tony, but he was also very stern-faced when it came to Tony’s feelings, so approaching him was somewhat… well, there was no point beating around the bush. Approaching James Rhodes to ask to date Tony was scary. Luckily he only made people grovel a little. Only one person had been turned away from dating Tony by Jim and it was Loki, and only because Jim had asked ‘why do you want to date Tony’ and Loki had replied ‘To make everyone else jealous.’ Jim had almost been inclined to let him, but then they’d seen Tony riding his fucking unicorn through the quad and Loki had just raised an eyebrow and said, “I’ll eat him alive,” and Jim had cheerfully told him, “Absolutely not.”

After all this, however, was Janet Van Dyne.

There was no one as supportive of Tony dating as Jan, but there was no one as picky about who Tony should be dating as Jan, too. She’d made questionnaires that all prospects had to fill out, and no two were the same. It was also incredibly hard to tell which answer was the correct one. Luckily anyone who didn’t get a passing grade could earn extra credit by agreeing to model some outfits for her. “Oh,” she always added as they walked away, relieved. “And don’t forget the cheese!”

Steve had seen no one else giving Tony cheese, but things were so different these days, and there was such stiff competition for Tony’s attention, he couldn’t really afford to take a chance. So he went to a fancy cheese store, walked back out to quietly panic about the price, then took a deep breath and went back in. Tony was worth it, and he had the money. He bought a small wheel of something soft and aged with a buttery texture and faint taste of truffles. He hoped that Tony liked it.

“Oh!” Tony says in surprise when Steve presents him with the wheel for cheese. “Usually everyone brings flowers!”

Why would Jan tell him to not forget the cheese then, Steve thinks despairingly, but before he can stutter out an apology, Tony is taking the wheel from him. “Uh–”

“Oh, I’ve wanted to try this one,” Tony says, looking incredibly pleased. He looks up at Steve from under his lashes, biting his bottom lip, and Steve seriously wonders why Tony second-guesses himself when he’s so beautiful and smart and suave. “Maybe, um… if the date goes well… we could come back here and try it?”

“Yeah,” Steve bellows like a wounded animal, and he’d be more embarrassed about it except that Tony looks giddy at the response.

He’ll have to keep remembering the cheese. It seems to be good luck, after all.

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Forget Me Not Jim Mason x Reader 50 First Dates AU Pt 3

Jim laid a hand on her thigh out sight and casual-like. Just a light pressure to let Y/N know he was there for her.

Her entire body tightened, and she darted a glance around the table to see if anyone was watching. Everyone else was far too interested in their conversation and the joint floating around. He leaned over slightly to whisper by her ear. "You know they love you to pieces. It's going to be just fine, angel eyes."

His use of her nickname made her lips twitch. But even more importantly, to his delight she snuck her hand over his, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly in response.

"You two got something on your mind over there?" Chad's question buzzed angrily in Jim's ears.

It was rather amazing how much disapproval could be put into such simple words.

Y/N took a deep breath, but before she could speak Jim decided what the hell. He'd sooner be skinned for the whole disaster, no matter what she'd said before.

"Not a secret," Jim announced. "We're dating."

Other than her quick gasp of shock, there was no response to his comment. Not for a full five seconds. Then an uproar of noise hit from all sides.

"The hell?"

"Since when?"

"Are you serious?"

Over all the questions and cussing lay a deep, heavy rumble, starting low then increasing in volume until Mr. Y/D/L/N's laugh broke through. He waved his sons off. "Calm yourself, boys. You really surprised by this?" He clicked his tongue. "Never thought I’d raised a pack of dullards. I saw this coming from a mile away."

Y/N gave Jim  a dirty look before facing her father.

"What's that mean?"

The older man shrugged. "Means I'd seen you two making calf eyes at each other when you thought no one was looking. About time you came to your senses."

Chad stumbled to vertical, glaring daggers at Jim. "Bullshit. You can't be dating Y/N."

Jim stood to meet him eye to eye across the table. "Not your decision."

"She's still recovering from the accident. She doesn't need to get involved with anyone."

A stream of very creative swearing burst free from a most unexpected source. Jim waited cautiously until Chad looked away before also turning toward Y/N.

She'd stood as well, her much shorter status very clear as everyone loomed over her from where they’d all risen to their feet around the table. The vile language spewing from her mouth stuttered to a stop as she whipped out her finger and stuck it in her oldest brother’s face.

"The accident happened two months ago. I. Bumped. My. Head. That's it. I didn't have a lobotomy or revert to childhood. I've had enough of you wrapping me in cotton and refusing to let me do anything on my own. Yes, I have gaps in my memory, and yes, dealing with that is a pain in the ass. But you, Chad"-she glared around the table to take in all her brothers-"all of you, are even bigger pains. I did not break my brain, or my body. My sex drive did not vanish out the broken window, and I will not allow you, or anyone else, decide what will or won't happen in my life."

Jim wasn't sure the mention of sex was the wisest idea as eyes narrowed further, and fists were clenched. Only he couldn't worry about that because she'd spun her fury toward him.

"And you! You're the biggest pain of them all. I told you I wanted to do this myself. You agreed, and now you just leap in and do exactly the opposite of what I asked for? Damn you." Y/N stepped back from the table, her eyes full of fire as she planted her feet wide and crossed her arms. "Jim and I are not going out," she stated clearly.

Oh, shit. She was more upset by his taking control than he’d expected. He reached for her, but she twisted from his grasp.

"Forget it, Jim. We might be seeing more of each other in the future if you get your head out of your ass, but the only reason will be because you might be the father of my baby."

The question exploded from five male throats at the same moment.

Y/N lifted her chin, cheeks red, her chest heaving. "Yes. I'm pregnant. Jim insists he could be. That's all I'm going to say about this tonight because I'm sick of all of you. Good night."

She twirled on her heel and stomped from the room, the door slamming shut after her. Jim wavered between running after her and staying to explain to the guys.

He never saw it coming. The fist that connected with his jaw made stars burst before his eyes, and he stumbled backward before landing on the floor, five very angry faces staring down at him.

"Shall we bury him alive in the back forty?" Danny asked, wiggling his fingers to shake out the blow he’d delivered. "Hang him in the garage. We can use the welder’s torch and skin him first."

Jim shoved aside the anger inside that wanted to flare like a torch. "Let me explain, dammit."

Chad dragged a hand over his head then gestured his brothers aside. He extended his hand to Jim.

Jim eyed it with distrust.

His friend snorted. "Look, you surprised us all, but I’m not going to beat you any further, and neither will the others."

"Speak for yourself," Alex drawled. "What the hell is going on, Jim?"

"Boys, let him up." Y/D/F/N Y/D/L/N pushed through his sons to cast an unreadable stare upon Jim.

Alex looked disappointed. "Does this mean we're not killing him and hiding the body?"

Y/D/F/N rested a hand on his shoulder. "Not today, but there's still hope for tomorrow."

And with that, Jim sighed in relief. He was going to be forgiven, at least by the guys. ,Y/N on the other hand, was another issue. He'd have to watch his balls around her for the next while.

They all settled around the table, a little uneasy. More awkward than he'd ever felt with the family. "So, now what?" Alex asked.

"That one is easy," Y/D/F/N answered. "Now Jim finds a way to convince Y/N they’re a couple. If she's going to have a baby, she needs all the support she can get."

"So you’d better find a way to convince Y/N she wants you in her life, or else," Chad snapped. Chad's ultimatum pissed Jim off all over.

"There’s nothing I want more." The secret seed of fear inside was shoved down and ignored as Jim went nose to nose with his stubborn best friend. “Did you not listen to what I said about sending you an email, you stupid ass? Did you not hear the part about how I'm the one who came to her before she even told me about the baby?"

"Easy words to say when none of it can be proved."

"Still say we take him outside and work him over,"  Alex muttered.

"Shut up, all of you." Mr. Y/D/L/N didn’t shout. Didn't storm, but his intensely spoken comment quelled all four of his sons. "Stop poking at Jim. He knows what he did was wrong, and if my baby girl is going to have a man in her life, I like Jim."

Warmth rushed him at the man’s words of acceptance. "Thank you, sir."

Y/D/F/N turned toward him with ice in the depths of his purple eyes. "You hurt her again, though, and I'll shoot you myself."

Ahh, family. Jim straightened up and wondered if he was going to survive.

Remembering the expression of fury in Y/N's eyes, he just might be better off dealing with the guys.

*********************************************

Y/N pulled herself alert. She was only a moment away from sliding into a puddle of relaxation in the overstuffed easy chair, tired from her week and everything that had been going on.

Medina had plopped herself on the floor to apply a new layer of polish to Y/N's toes. Instead of Friday night at the pub, Medina had suggested a girls’ home spa. The laid-back evening was so much better than fighting the noise and the crowds. Y/N was in heaven.

"Skipping away from the baby talk for a minute." Heather leaned forward on her elbows. "Tell me to butt out if you're not sharing, but what's this I hear about Jim.Mason basically camping out in your front yard?"

Y/N wasn't sure if she was pissed off or pleased with his relentless attention. "I laid down the law about two weeks ago, and ever since he's been trying to get back in my good books."

"Is it working?" Medina snorted. "Jim has not yet perfected the art of the grovel, we'll just put it that way."

"Hmm." Cami and Annisa, two more of Y/N's friends, exchanged glances. "A good grovel is always nice,”  Cami admitted.

"Followed by make-up sex, right?" Annisa grinned. "So, what’s he not doing right? Not being determined enough?"

Y/N stopped to think for a minute. Jim had been persistent-that much was in his favor. "I don’t think he understands what he did wrong in the first place."

"Of course he doesn’t." Heather grabbed a pitcher and topped up her drink. "He’s a guy. The words 'I was wrong' kind of stick in their throats and end up coming out as 'Get over it, little woman, I know best.'

A snort escaped before Y/N could stop it. "Yeah, that’s about the entire story."

"So, all he needs to do is say he was wrong?" Medina tilted her head to the side. "I would have thought this situation required more than that."

"Oh, 'I was wrong' would be the first step," Y/N agreed. "But until he figures out that this is my life, I'm not letting him back in. It's bad enough with my brothers wanting to make decisions for me."

"And you don’t need another big brother, right?" Ava winked at her. "I know you probably hate getting asked, but how are you feeling?"

"Much better,” Y/N admitted happily. "Morning sickness is done. Lots of energy. I haven’t got back my memory, but I have progressed in my math beyond two plus two is four."

"Hmm, too bad you have no memory of sexing it up with Jim." Cami waggled her brows. "I bet he’s got some moves."

"I can’t believe sex with Jim wasn’t memorable enough to stay in your brain no matter what. I mean, do you think he's got a teeny penis or something, and your mind is trying to wipe that out?"

"Not the size of the equipment, it’s how well they use it," Annisa quipped innocently, batting her lashes at the laughter that rose from the other women. "Well, that’s what they say, right?"

"No, I doubt Jim is lacking penis power. Unless he's shoving socks into his jock strap, the guy's got the goods."

Like a barometer, Y/N’s cheeks had responded to the chatter. She didn't really want to speculate on Jim's... equipment. "Sorry. Memory loss doesn’t pick and choose to save the juicier tidbits for repeat consumption. We'll have to stick with 'I don't remember’ on this one."

Laughter exploded, and Y/N relaxed back into her happy haze of food and friends. It wasn't the size of Jim's equipment that interested her -well, okay, not completely. But if she remembered the act, she'd know for sure who was involved in making the baby in her belly. She slipped her hands over the slight bulge beginning to show and wished again for a miracle, like total recall. It didn't come, but the friendship and warmth around her helped. Helped a lot.

The next morning Jim shifted uneasily on his feet and waited for Y/N to answer his knock. It was just past ten. Late enough she would have had time to sleep in a little and dress, because he didn't need any temptation to mess this up.

It sort of worked. She was awake. The woman who pulled the door open had bright eyes and a rested face; only she was still wrapped in a mass of soft terry cloth. Her robe ended at mid-thigh, and Jim snapped his gaze back up to safer territory.

He swallowed hard. "Hi."

She lifted one brow in a perfect Vulcan imitation. "Hi." Jim paused. "How you doing?"

Y/N nodded. "Good."

Ah, fuck it. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I was an ass, and I had no right to butt in and go around your wishes."

She opened the door all the way and they headed towards the kitchen. She watched with a bemused attitude from where she’d pushed herself up to sit on the counter. "What are you doing, Jim?"

"Apologizing." He lifted his glass to her. "Trying to find a way to truly be there for you and make up for my stupid move at dinner a while back."

Y/N lifted her hand to touch his jaw where the final tinge of a bruise was slowly fading. "You got worked over by my brothers that night. I'm sorry for leaving you to them."

Jim stood stock-still as her soft fingers caressed his cheek. "I blew it more ways than one that night."

"You did." She patted his cheek gently then leaned forward to whisper, “But I'm ready to forgive you. Only for heaven's sake, stop acting like some ball-less dweeb."

Jim couldn't help but to laugh. "That's blunt."

Y/N shrugged. "It’s the new Y/N-I tend to speak my mind a little sooner. So here’s the deal. You will not fuck up and go against my express wishes, and I'll stop my brothers from beating on you."

Jim nodded. "And you'll let me get involved in your life; however it will help you the most. Whether that’s getting things ready for the baby's arrival, or being there to rub your feet or ..." He'd spotted the circle on the calendar on the wall. "Or going to prenatal visits with you."

She hesitated. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"That’s not true." Jim laid a hand over hers where it rested on the counter. "Come on, new Y/N, tell me what's racing through your mind."

She stared down at their fingers. "I'm afraid to let you in, I'm afraid to have you around and then have you taken off down the road." Her head lifted and those beautiful eyes stared into his soul. "I want you to be there for more than just the baby."

Jim stroked her fingers lightly. "I’m here. In spite of your fears." In spite of his own. "I wanted you before the baby was in the picture, and I'll want you no matter what." That much he could say with full and complete honesty.

The moment hung between them. Anticipation and longing right there. All his concerns and worries were overwhelmed by the need to have Y/N make the decision for him. To be with him, and give him a chance. Even though her accepting him would open up a world of nightmares-facing those would be worth it. Had to be worth it. He'd chosen to be a better man than his father, and this was the place that he made his stand.

Y/N moved so slowly, but finally she did move. Leaned toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. He slipped up a hand to brush the inch-long hair over her scalp, the softness against his palm like satin.

She leaned away. "Okay."

His heart raced like an out-of-control train. "Okay?"

She nodded. "You can come to the prenatal with me. And you can do some stuff around here, to help get things ready for the baby."

Jim waited, then got tired of waiting. "And us?" He demanded.

Her tongue snuck out quickly as she moistened her lips. "Well, I suppose we could start seeing each other."

He wanted to toss his fist into the air and shout, but that might freak her out. So instead he picked her up and twirled her. Hugging her close as she laughed. "Put me down, silly."

Jim lowered her carefully, reluctant to allow her warm, soft body to leave contact with his. "Does that mean we can go on a date?"

"Yes." She got an evil look in her eyes. He lowered himself onto the open space next to her, leaving room between them. There would be time to make a move on the physical side of things soon enough, now that she was letting him in. Letting him have a chance to do the right thing, and more.

She leaned back, the sunshine in the window making her soft and edible, and incredibly beautiful. "You have any plans for the day?"

"You are my plans."

Her smile bloomed, and Jim's heart swelled a little. It wasn’t what he’d expected to be doing, but in the big scheme of things-it was right.

@michael-langdon-appreciation

Credit to @carolthors

[thatblackravenclaw]

Okay mamacita. I am officially hurt with what u recently wrote abt Bucky getting someone else pregnant. After all his flowery sweet words. But I have an idea? Like what if due to idk a broken heart? Anger? Reader signs up with the same program as Steve and (Bucky) to be frozen and to become a super soldier. Then everything happens accordingly up until civil war. The reader fights with Steve to bring back Bucky. Then the reader also plays a big role in bucky’s recovery. All the while, in both past and present, the reader is bucky’s love of his life. On why he cheated, I don’t ducking know why tht dumbass did that. But the reader is bucky’s end game. So Present Bucky is just feeling all sorts of guilt, remorse, sadness, regret, and most of all, love for her. He’s head over heels for her that he would willingly be under hydra for her (extreme? Yeah he freaking deserve it). Anw all while bucky’s so inlove with her, I have multiple ideas on how this ends. Imma list it!

1. Happy ending for Bucky! Bucky grovels, ALOT. It may have taken him years to even have a date with u. But that date was the start of forever. His forever love, faithfulness, adoration and all. But again, he suffers before that.

2. She helped Stevie? Why? Turns out they have a secret relationship, Bucky just knew when reader got pregnant with Stevie’s. Now he’s on the sidelines watching reader and Steve live the life that he so badly wanted with her. Basically just him facing the consequences of his actions. He ends up that single uncle who just takes care of his nephews/nieces, aka reader and Steve’s children while the pair go on a date night or sum. He wanted to be happy for them, but ofc he couldn’t.he also couldn’t find someone else, as reader was really it for him *alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber*

3. Bucky and reader get back together! But what goes round comes back around. Reader has to go on an undercover mission with some male avenger/colleague for almost a year. They have had to pretend to be married. Ofc bucky’s insecure Bc he knows what he did while he was away. He’s scared you realize this and just leave him. And you did. You said you never loved him again anyway. While he, on the other hand, was already planning on your whole future. How he’s gonna make amends for everything, how he’s gonna treat you right, above and beyond happy, your children, all. Buuutt the twist of it all? Bucky begs for you to stay. Despite you cheating, he said you could be in a relationship with someone else, love someone else. Hell, he could even just be your fuck toy, your dog should you want, as long as you come home to him a couple of times a week. As long as he was yours. As long as you give him the time of the day. Just, desperate Bucky Bc he won’t let you go a second time (this could be a potentially dark, obsessive yandere Bucky) *Alexa play The Weekend by Sza*

4.Reader and bucky both end up with someone else but is bdoth longing for each other. They’re each other’s end game but they think they’re toxic for each other so they don’t try anymore. One day bucky decides to pursue the reader. Only to find out she died for him. So he finna bring that till his death.

As a req, I DEFFO would love a happy ending for this, I hate Bucky for cheating but I love him too much 😭 but if u want to create an alt ending, or if u don’t wanna follow what’s listed or would want to change something. Pls do so! By no means do I require nor force you to do this 💗 but I hope you doooo! Thank you so much and have a nice day 💗

I am now in love with you and your ideas! I'll tell you what.. I'll make an alternative ending with all 4 endings. sound like a plan? 💙

[bygosscarmine]

Death and the Spring Goddess...Get Detention.

a Sky High Olympus AU fic (Warren x Layla)

4750-word one shot

PG/Teen at most for suggestive references

Olympus Academy technically floats above mortal reach, so only real gods or truly powerful demigods can get there. Because arcane laws are a traditional hobby of most pantheons, there is (of course) a rule that if you can get to the school, you can go to the school. (There is, in the margin of this bylaw, a rather hastily handwritten addendum that one has to be of the appropriate age of one's species or kind. One can well imagine why.) Persephone was wholly unknown to any of the gods until she arrived on the Academy Isle--piggyback on the world's fastest-growing conifer.

The fact that it seemed to continue growing once she'd hopped off it alarmed a great many of the adults in the area. Since the staff on campus included Minotaur the Reformed, the one-eyed giant Ted, and Hel, the average person might have thought this a little absurd. The ways of the gods are mysterious.

Anyway, Persephone (sixteen and bitter) had been planning this badass entry for at least two weeks now. She just strode right into the Administration Office without a backward glance--she could clean up later. Besides, she was making a point.

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter," she announced, sweeping in the door, her floral Doc Martins planting against any comers.

Except--there was no one. The school office, a sort of half-way between Grecian and Gothic style, was deserted. Actually, when she looked closer there seemed to be a crowd of bodies behind a frosted glass door across the room. Annoyed, Persephone swept her kerchief hem with a hand (the right swirl required a little coaching) and headed to that door.

Belatedly, she noticed one person who had witnessed this botched entrance. He didn't seem to be all that interested, glancing up only briefly as she moved forward, He was young enough to be a student. Still, her steps faltered slightly. When she got close enough to hear words being spoken inside the Administrator's office, she got the distinct impression that this young man was trying not to hear them.

He sprawled in his chair as if unconcerned, but there was an intent look on his face. Or maybe he always scowled like that. He had overgrown black hair partly covering his eyes, often the sign of a perpetual sulker.

He shifted slightly, and looked out the window, away from her. Something was odd about his eyes, but she didn't quite catch what before they were hidden by the angle. Anyway, she had psyched herself up this morning to not be fazed by anything, so it was just as well. She reached the inner office.

"--it's apparent to everyone he is a recurrence of Hades, I don't think that is a question."

"You can't deny a boy his education based on old prejudices--"

"Old prejudices! Don't make me laugh. It's that boy, not some previous incarnation, who called up Cerberus to terrorize the cafeteria."

"Under extreme provocation!"

Persephone winced for the boy, despite her own preoccupations. She knocked, and counted it a service.

The abrupt silence seeped like chill around the doorjamb. Then an incredibly beautiful female with an incredibly unfriendly face peeked out.

"Yes?"

"I am Persephone, a daughter of Demeter. I am here to enroll at Olympus."

The woman gave her a quick up and down, a tad slow replacing her judgment of Persephone's sense of style with a smile of welcome.

"I'll be right with you, dear."

The rumbling inside resumed, but now about Demeter, and whether she had publicly announced any children in the last hundred years.

"She said a daughter of Demeter," came the voice of the goddess who'd seen her, "not the daughter of Demeter, so it could mean anything. But she's here, so if she wants to enroll she can. Excuse me."

As she stepped out of the office, it became obvious the goddess was Venus, or at least her most recent form. No one else would have dressed just like the headless installation that dominated the artisan's quarter of the city below, so that it was obvious to anyone her body had been the model. Or maybe anyone else caught trying it would have found themselves in a world of hurt. Venus wasn't known for sharing well with others.

Persephone tried not to be starstruck as she followed Venus to the front desk. That would be embarrassing. It was especially embarrassing to be starstruck by someone's butt just because it really looked just like the sculpture.

Hades was having a pretty ridiculous day already when a second freaking fertility goddess walked into the building. Dressed like an eco-terrorist, no less. She had on army boots, but they were embroidered with daisies or something. And she was wearing them with a green sundress, as if symbolism was an art completely lost on her and she instead chose to draw a chart.

He couldn't decide if her being bony and awkward was more disconcerting or comforting, in a redheaded nature deity.

He winced when she announced she was Demeter's daughter. His adoptive mom had versed him rigorously in all his past connections (as far as history could tell them) with past incarnations of various gods, and one thing he knew for sure was that he and that goddess found ways to hate each other in every lifetime.

His bio-mom thought worrying about former incarnations was laughable, and introduced her boyfriend as her "ex-brother" just to make him squirm. Meeting Rhea had explained a whole lot about his adoptive mom's attitude, really.

While Rhea continued to do a terrible job trying to keep him in this school, he watched the other fertility goddess in the building get the young one entered for classes. Green Dress seemed to be having trouble not staring at Venus's white drapery. Well, that was the whole point of the drapery, really.

Rhea wrenched open the door and emerged to glare at him.

"If you want to stay in this school and not be put down as unallied with Olympus, you need to come make some apologies."

About ten minutes earlier, Hades had been planning to tell them all to shove it up their unnaturally ageless backends. But there was a distant sound of shouting that the new kid seemed to be ignoring with intent. She hadn't relaxed like someone who had achieved their goal, either.

Maybe he didn't want to leave just yet. He went to do the most godly grovel he could muster.

Persephone had not come to Olympus for the better school environment. She quite liked it, especially when she found out that she could skip mythology class for a fairly advanced botany workshop as her personalize elective. No, she had come to get Zeus to do something about Earth's global warming.

Olympus Academy was the only standardized route for gods to get enrolled in Olympus as deities. Unlike she had hoped, though, Persephone couldn't get to the rest of Olympus from the levitating campus. Nor did it seem at all easy to approach the gods who could help her with her petition. So, to bide her time (and prepare for her political future), she made friends with the other students--when that was possible.

When it was not possible, she tried to at least not pick any fights.

All the students were technically young, not experienced as gods, and working toward being officially part of the Olympus Alliance. There were still clearly marked cliques and hierarchies.

She'd been a little astonished to be greeted with enthusiasm by a good number of her fellow students, despite the fact that her tree had taken up permanent residence in the squash court. (Some of the more athletic students soon adapted this into the world's highest jungle-gym, and even used it to sneak off campus for lunch. Persephone could not fly and did not think she was immortal enough to just try falling, so she had accepted her admittance to the campus dorm without any regrets.)

It was only after her first few weeks that she realized all the students who had befriended her belonged to a certain class at school. They were the nurturers, earth-mothers, healers, and emotion deities. As far as she could tell, they had the most fun anyway, so she had no regrets.

Still, there was no denying the Frights (as her new friend Pom called them) were somehow cooler.

Some of the Frights were loners, but the others had a loose network. Venus's younger sister Di wasn't always around, because she was intense about her archery training, but whenever she sat down she was instantly surrounded by girls with knife-sharp eyeliner and husky voices. She was thick as thieves with Mars, though apparently blood flowed when anyone suggested they were dating. When both of them were otherwise unoccupied there was an inevitable devolvement to war games of various forms.

So the first time Persephone made an absolute fool of herself was, naturally, in front of both of them.

The day before at lunch the Frights had been playing some card game. While the penalties for losing had been violent, at least it hadn't taken up the whole lawn where people ate lunch. (The weather was always good on Olympus, unless someone had really gotten Zeus upset. This happened only every few decades, and there were bomb shelters, not awnings, inside the school for these occasions.)

Today, though, it was a glorified version of capture the flag. Some god or other with constructive tendencies had offered up two hand-built forts for the Frights to guard, because of course they had.

"Persie, over here!" called Pomona.

While war was being set up, their own group had very sensibly settled within the line of oak trees. Since these trees were sacred to several gods (some of them adults) they were well out of the range of danger.

Pom was eating beautifully arranged sushi that did not come from meal services, and Persephone sighed as she unpacked her own lunch. It was apples, cheese, and peanut butter, and she hoped Pom wouldn't notice the apples weren't fancy ones.

"Did you hear that they're going to let Hades come back to class?" said a boy who went by Jay. This was clearly some kind of nickname, but Persephone had never seen any signs of what his godhood was, and had decided it might be better that way.

"Uh, did you not know he's been here?" said the guy who was resting his head on Jay's lap. Persephone had suspicions about him, but called him Eric anyway.

"This whole time? I haven't seen him."

Jay clearly thought this was a loss.

"He's been doing twelve-hour detentions, that's why," said Eric. "I hear him sometimes coming into the dorm. He's above my room, you know."

"Who's Hades?" Persephone asked Pom in a whisper.

"You haven't met him?" gasped Pom. Persephone should have known better than to try to have a surreptitious conversation with Pom. "He's like, the Fright of all Frights."

"Obviously, I've heard of Hades," Persephone said, blushing.

"Do you think it's true he appears when you say his name?" asked another girl, and the conversation mercifully turned to gossip.

It dawned on her slowly, as hints were made about what Hades had done to to earn near-constant detention, that he had to be the guy in the Administration Office that first day.

She was just trying to remember what she had noticed about his eyes when something hit her on the back of the head.

Hades had found a good corner where he could keep an eye on everyone while eating his lunch, and not be snuck up on from behind. He didn't usually eat lunch out on the grounds with the morons at school, but the structures that had gone up for today's wargame promised havoc. It was better witness havoc than try to piece it together by hearsay.

He wasn't watching, per se, when one of the jock morons pitched an apple at the nature crowd, but he saw it.

It hit the new redhead. She didn't always wear green, but today she had either worn or sprouted a crown of flowers. In a way, that kind of thing was asking those jocks to do something dumb. On the other hand, how thick did you have to be to use a piece of fruit to assault Spring Incarnate?

Dudes who grew up thinking of themselves as gods who might make something of themselves, apparently.

He set his dry sandwich down on his tray and leaned forward to watch what went down.

"Oops, sorry, Red!" came an amused masculine voice.

At first, Persephone just stared as the apple rolled by her then nestled against her knee as if seeking comfort. Then she understood--it hadn't been an accident.

She turned to look, already knowing who had spoken.

It was Ares, Mars' hanger-on. The guy had taken to lingering by her seat after Strategic Math, and while he hadn't exactly made a move, he probably would have, if she'd allowed him to make eye-contact.

"I brought you some more lunch, but it slipped out of my hand," he said. "You really don't need to diet for me."

Since one of Persephone's problems in putting together a good lunch was from all the sports-type guys complaining if anything vegetarian was served, this was particularly enraging.

She picked up the apple, stood, and threw it so hard and fast it had only grown a branch the thickness of her arm when it hit him in the face. (If she'd popped it up, it could have landed a grown tree. Hopefully entrapping Ares in its roots forever.)

"Nice arm," said Di from across the field. When she saw that Ares was bleeding from his nose, Di came Persephone's way. "I've got it--revenge plot."

Mars, kneeling at the foot of his fort to install some kind of whittled spikes, shrugged and said, "Sure. Fury of the women?"

"Persephone on my side with that arm, and Ares on your side with his."

There was a chuckle from some of the bystanders.

"No, I don't agree," Persephone said. "Di, you all are really cool, but no, I won't. I'm not good at games like this, and I don't care enough about it to get involved."

"Guess it'll have to be a good old kidnapping then," said Mars, grabbing Persephone.

Which was a really, really bad move.

Hades had his suspicions from that first day. After Rhea had stormed out, and Hades had been signing contracts about how much service he'd do to be taken off probation, there had been another meeting--and though the administrators were just as tense and argumentative as before, it wasn't about him. They had been interrogating Venus, and inspecting the files.

Something about Persephone besides her pine tree had disturbed them. Or maybe her pine tree had tipped them off to something, Hades couldn't be sure.

Today, he got to see it.

Persephone turned into Mars's grasp, only for him to shriek and let go, and then fall to the ground covering his head. Odd.

Turning the grass to blades beneath his feet was easy. And getting out of his grasp by leaning in rather than struggling was easy.

Unfortunately, by now there was the no-turning-back bubbling of power that occasionally overcame her, and while some small part of teenage Persephone wished to stop, the age-old nature goddess part was ready to take them all to pieces.

She did not. But it was very difficult to restrain herself. There had to be an outlet somewhere.

Her power curled out, lifting her usually straight hair into a nimbus, as it reached out in a circling pattern, telling her what she could do with her surroundings. All those standing in or between the forts were shouting, running for the forts to get off the stabbing grass.

The forts turned quickly to giant treehouses, formed of revived trees--different species now spliced together and creating strange bark-encased cages around the students who had been caught in them.

At the corners of her vision she saw things morphing and changing. At the edges of her hearing she heard shouts and crying. At the horizon of her existence, she knew she was losing herself, but the fierce expanding-green of Spring did not care.

The sacred oaks grew in dimension, until the crowd of nature-types at the foot of them were all hugging each other in the tightening gap between the trunks. Why didn't the idiots run? Hades did not get these guys.

Professor Apollo, looking harried, came running toward the meadow. He cast a look around, a white beard sprouting from his face with the stress, and then he bellowed, "Hades! I know you're here somewhere. Do something!"

Hades stood up and stepped forward.

An unnatural hush fell when the grass withered suddenly to brown all around them. The trees caging the Fright jocks ceased growing with creaks and instead became quiet carved wood again, though still in the shape of terrible trees.

His steps onto the lawn seemed to echo, though he knew no one but himself and Persephone would hear them.

She had turned jewel-green eyes toward him, her floating red hair swirling with the motion. She stayed still as she assessed her new enemy.

"Hey kid," he said, and with nerves his voice came out deep and rocky. "No one's really going to hurt you. You're all right. You're hurting the trees."

Step, step, step. He felt her waiting power crackle on his skin like a lick of sun. She had been wearing a purple dress today, a little more low-key nature goddess. Now, though, it was a raiment of flower petals, all fresh and even moving as though still unfurling, with a hem of twining stems where the fabric had been edged with lace.

Hades had accepted weeks ago that he was going to be aware of what this particular student was wearing at any given time. It wasn't just that she had that fertility goddess glow--it was that her power seemed to shout at his. It made sense; it was also a real headache. Now he had to declare that clash between them in front of the whole school.

Apollo's beard had stopped growing mid-chest,  but the teacher was still clutching it in his fingers with anxiety.

But Hades hadn't been watching lunchtime battles so carefully for nothing.

He knelt in front of Persephone, and reached out to hold the edge of her dress, careful not to crush any petals but only hold the tougher stems.

"I won't touch you," he said. "If you calm down, no one will hurt you. But if you don't, I will have to stop the oak trees, and that will hurt you a lot, won't it?"

"Since when," said a crone-voice that was not Persephone's, "are you a hostage negotiator, Hades?"

He laughed. "Since my mother declared feud on Zeus two thousand years ago. And since you, Demeter, kept hijacking your daughter's destiny. And in this life, since my step-dad decided to start beating my mom."

Not Rhea. When Rhea had finally checked in long enough to notice what was going on, she had the man put away for a long time. A long, long, long time. Long enough for Hades to get very good at being a god before they met again.

"Oh my god," said Persephone, herself again.

She blinked, and her eyes were fading to blue. Then she crumpled toward the ground, nearly knocking heads with him.

Persephone had not planned on having her first meeting with Zeus in a disciplinary hearing. Her new plans had all revolved around the upcoming harvest feast. All the gods who were on speaking terms with Zeus joined the students at Olympus High for the festival, so it was a brilliant opportunity. She had been drilling herself on rhetoric for the occasion.

Now she was next to Hades in the hot seats of the principal's office, while a ruggedly fifties-ish looking man tried to charm her. Zeus hardly ever died, so he was more like fifty-thousandish. It was gross he wanted to look young. At least Apollo had the grace to look like he tanned too much.

"It's understandable to get upset," Zeus was saying, "but you really have to be cautious not to do anything in anger you can't undo."

He would know, she thought. Though she took the whole Daphne thing more personally, at least Apollo wasn't a hypocrite. Also, Apollo had self-ordered a restraining order on himself that was upheld through all his lifetimes--something she had found out when doing research in the Olympus High library for possible leverage.

Anyway, a lecture from Zeus didn't weigh much with Persephone.

It was sitting next to Hades that was making her twitchy.

"So, in punishment," said Zeus so she started listening again, "I will go easy on you, as a first-time offender and fairly new goddess, dear. Hades, you will show her the ropes on your detention, and she will serve a hundred hours alongside you."

"Sir," objected Hades, "that's work in my domain. She doesn't belong there."

"Right. Which is why she's only doing a hundred hours."

He stood up and beamed at both of them, reminding Persephone strongly of a overly peppy soccer coach she had hated as a kid--particularly for the way he made up nicknames instead of using her full name.

"Have fun, children."

Zeus winked, and was gone.

Hades looked over at her, and overlaying his default scowl there was a hint of apology.

She remembered very clearly the shock of looking into his eyes earlier, when she'd wanted to kill him for messing with her plants. One eye was warm brown, the other a black that faded to ash-grey at the center. All of her fury had seemed to sink into that dead-bone eye, as if he was an abyss that power just fell into.

"So what hell is it that you're working on for detention?" she asked, to get him to stop looking at her.

Because of an undesirable attuning to his own name, Hades had heard a great deal of gossip in the last 24 hours. Some of it between teachers.

And as he had suspected, something about Persephone really freaked them out.

Hades was used to freaking people out, himself. He even enjoyed it. All the staff here expected him to freak them out a little and acted accordingly. Apparently, though, a really powerful nature goddess was way more daunting than the god of Death.

Which is probably why they had unanimously decided to balance the two of them against each other.

At least today it was waves of Persephone's own hatred for him practically growing into a wall between them, instead of Demeter's.

The girl looked a little pale. In Zeus's presence she had bristled but now these defenses had fallen away, and she looked small.

Only looked small, though; Hades could still feel her power filling the space around them in the hallway. But a god could feel small even if they had a lot of power.

So he didn't say anything, just led her to the maintenance part of the building and down the stairs. Down, and down. Though she started to get nervous, she didn't ask why they were going down so far. Maybe she put two and two together.

Then finally he opened the door at the very bottom, its bottom edge scraping still-unsmoothed dirt, and showed her in.

"So," Persephone said, staring around at what seemed to be a glorified basement. Not really even glorified, just massive. "Did you do all the decorating yourself?"

"It's a fixer-upper. A fixer-downer? I only claim responsibility for the two thirds at the back. You may noticed a distinct trend toward shoddy worksmanship that direction. What can I say, I'm a destroyer not a maker."

Apparently, Hades had been waiting the whole time they were descending to his 'realm' only to launch into a comic routine.

"Wow, the god of death has a sense of humor?"

"Wow, the goddess of fertility doesn't?"

She stamped a boot with frustration. "What did you call me?"

"I...didn't realize that was inappropriate."

"Fertility! As if the only thing a woman and springtime and nature can be about is being FERTILE. Listen, buddy, it's not all eggs and pollen. Being called a fertility goddess is essentially writing someone off as overly feminine and therefore probably useless."

His weird mismatched eyes on her made her skin crawl. She'd been trying to fend off the sense of his cold, burying power and now she was surrounded on all sides by rock. Not just rock, dead rock. Rock leeched of nutrients and good minerals.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "Despite how it may seem, I have only the greatest regard for life and the living."

He turned away, and walked toward a distant corner of the square, cave-like place. His hands were in his pockets, but the line of his back was anything but relaxed and nonchalant. She realized after a second that he was heading toward a wheelbarrow full of heavy tools, and hurried to catch up.

Hades heard the scuffing of her ridiculous boots, shorter paces trying to catch up with his, and slowed just slightly. She didn't step up to his side, though, until they reached the spot where he'd left his gear at the raw edge of the cave.

"I'm sorry, this is rough work," he said, hauling out and offering her a choice between pickaxe and sledgehammer.

"What are we doing, anyway?" she asked.

"Enlarging hell, what does it look like?"

Why did he have to be sarcastic right now? Was it some mythic law, "All Hades will be stupid around spring-slash-nature goddesses"?

"No, but why does Zeus want you enlarging hell? Under Olympus?"

"We're not really...under Olympus any more."

"Fine, wherever we are."

He hesitated. "Just like more life is always being made...death is also always being made."

"You mean, this is literally going to become more underworld, with ghosts in it?" Persephone sounded horrified.

"No," he said. "This is my new throne-room. Gods of death don't leave when they die. Look, if you aren't going to do the bludgeoning work, get out that spade. You can shovel the debris instead."

She had an intently innocent look on her face. Hades had seen that look before--when the Minotaur dude had burst into the administration office, saying, "It won't stop! The tree is cutting into the mountain!"

The Minotaur's voice had sounded more like a squeal than speech. Hades had enjoyed that.

Now he turned slowly, and saw that a vine had started to break up the wall, weakening the stone. "Will that help?" she asked.

It was impossible.

There was nothing for a plant to grow in here. His presence in this underworld should have stopped her, made it a locus of lifelessness. But as he stared at her handiwork, already causing small stones to fall out of the wall, he also noticed that the power she'd been expending to ward him away was no longer concentrated between them.

Maybe it hadn't been hate. Maybe it was fear. Though apparently Persephone did not have much to fear from Hades.

He didn't tell her it was impossible, however, because she really didn't need any more encouragement. He started shoveling the rubble her vines were creating into the wheelbarrow, thinking this could either be the longest or shortest hundred hours of his life. He hoped he didn't screw it up.

"So what's your big goal in coming to Olympus, Persephone?"

"To end global warming. Unless you want the whole planet dead, of course," she said--with an actual smile, however barbed.

"Not at all," he demurred, scraping another shovel-full of falling rock together.

"And what about you, Hades? Something bigger than being on Zeus's team got you coming to this circus?"

"Preparing for my rightful throne, obviously," he said, waving around.

After a few moments more of her concentrating on coaxing her vines to fissure the rocks, and getting on gloves to encourage it to fall, she said, "I really can't believe I've gotten myself in trouble. Zeus may never listen to me now."

Hades didn't share that he thought Zeus had reason to worry about not pleasing her, rather than the other way around.

Not yet, anyway. After all, they had another ninety-nine and a half hours together.

[itoshit]

Opening the door, I was met with Vee, laying on the bed. None of us talked, and as I noticed tears running down her face, I couldn't prevent the tight smile from showing up.

Hey Venus

I knew what I was doing. I knew Vee would be mad, but I also knew that I hadn't have any choice.

Your hair... you did it for me?

Yes I did

No I didn't. I just thought that I would be able to attract more chicks that way

You're funny Manji'

She cracked a smile at my reply, but I didn't reflect her expression.

Manjiro will do yeah? Look Venus.

Approaching her and sitting by her side, I turned to her, resuming my talk.

It was dumb of me. Everything really. I think... how could I put it. You're a nice girl, but I don't think you're a good match for me. I need my woman to be more courageous and less of a crybaby you know? So yeah, it was fun while it lasted, but I kinda grew tired of you. Not to be mean though, it happens every day. I don't want to waist more time on you, so as soon as you're healed, you can start your life again alright? Koko could help you with money, we'll buy you a new apartment.

Vee didn't seem to listen anymore, her eyes were on me, but she didn't look as if she was believing me.

You're lying

Guess I will have to be more convincing them. Passing a hand through my hair, I grinned at her.

Look Venus, the sex was good, but you're getting too attached. You even said to Kakucho that you liked me! Really? Baby I was keeping you around because I pitied you. To be honest, I wanna fuck other girls now.

I needed to hurt her. To make her let go of me.

Senju wanted to see me tonight so... yeah.

Vee started being more aggressive with me, explaining it by the request that I had for her to be mine and me to be hers. I knew all that, and of course I wanted us to be together. But it wouldn't work. Not with an angel like her.

Look Venus, don't be a bore yeah? Don't act like we were together or anything. I don't like you, I stayed because your pussy was good. End of the story! I need to get ready for my little date, so I'm gonna go now. So huh... have some rest yeah?

Patting her uninjured leg, I didn't wait for her to answer and I winked at her, exiting the room.

As the door was closing, I closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

I was used to all that, but this time, I would make sure that the person I held close to my heart would stay alive, regardless of my feelings.

Sacrificing my happiness didn't look that bad if that meant for Vee to stay alive. Would I be able to see her with someone else? No. Did I even have a say in the matter? No.

-Mikey

I- I feel so bad rn??😭😭

And I hope you ate after !

OHHH OKAY MICHAEL!

I don’t like you. I pitied you. I don’t want to waste anymore time on you.

I knew he was lying. I knew every word he said to me was nothing more than fabricated bullshit he probably came up with on the drive here. There wasn’t any way somebody could fake the things we said to each other, the things we did. I knew that. So why was there a small part of me that was hurt? Who was contemplating the possibility that they were true. Of course it wasn’t… right?

I waited in that bed, saving my forgiveness for when he’d burst through the door five minutes later groveling at my feet, begging for mercy. I waited, despite the tears on my face that somehow knew he wasn’t. I waited and waited and waited. He never showed. That’s when I sobbed, big, heaving, blubbering ones. I sat there crying for what felt like forever, until I couldn’t even produce tears anymore. And then I got angry.

Pressing my nurse’s button, I ripped the IV out of my wrist and the other machines checking my vitals, watching blood trickle all along the sheets. I didn’t care about it. I couldn’t stay another second in this fucking place. If Mikey wanted nothing to do with me after I healed, then I’ll do him something better. The nurse ran in panicked, eyes wide. I watched her gape at the sheets, at the flatlining monitors and then at me. I didn’t even give her time to speak. I had already begun to stand.

I need to get out of here, I told her, lifting myself up from the bed.

She charged at me, trying to push my shoulders back down but I wouldn’t budge. What are you doing? Your wounds haven’t healed yet!

I repeated myself, but she was still panicking, going off about something I refused to care about. Irritated, I take the collar of her scrubs and yank, bringing her close to me. Listen to me, I need to get the fuck out of this building and if you don’t help me, I’m going to find a fire escape and do it that way. Or maybe I’ll jump out of the window, break my fucking neck. Can you live with knowing somebody died on your watch because you wouldn’t help them? Would you be able to stomach it?

The words coming out of my mouth were unrecognizable to me. I got petty with my friends and said shit I didn’t mean, but this was cruel and excessive. I guess this what Mikey was turning me into.

I let her go only after she nods her agreement, looking ready to burst into tears by the second. First, I’ll need a disguise. No matter what Mikey had just told me, I knew he wouldn’t let me out of his sight if he caught me doing this. And being trapped around Mikey was not going to fly. Fuck no. Where’s the clothes you came in wearing?

I-In my bag in our locker rooms, she stammered.

Bring them. I need to change.

She went out of the room and came back, bag in trembling hand. I dressed quickly and keeping my head down, I allowed her to sneak me straight out of the building and around the back where her car was parked. Then I asked her to drive me somewhere.

What? I can’t d—

Why not? I asked without caring to consider her feelings. The poor woman probably didn’t get paid enough for this. Is there anybody else Bonten gives a fuck about that requires you giving them medical attention?

N-no.

Good. I grinned. That means you’re off for the day. Now drive. You don’t have to worry about Mikey, this is what he wanted. A half truth considering he certainly wouldn’t have wanted me to be out of his life this quickly, but I skipped a few steps for my sanity and his life. If I had to be in his vicinity I probably would have killed him.

We got in the car and sped off, me giving her directions as soon as she started driving. I watched the building grow smaller and smaller in the rearview, doing my best to ignore the thudding in my heart. The pain. The stress of everything I had been through on top of this bullshit. My thigh throbbed dully in reminder beneath the bandage. Eventually, we arrived at the destination of my choice, and I was sure to thank her for everything she did. I couldn’t give her anything but gratitude. I didn’t have any money. My phone was still in that torture room where I left it, and all the shit Mikey bought me most likely didn’t survive in that collision that got me kidnapped in the first place. I was grateful for that last one. I needed no reminders of him.

I quickly hopped out of the car, hobbling toward the door of the place I had requested to go. The nurse, who’s name I realized I never asked for, pulled out of the yard before I even entered the door. Couldn’t say I blamed her. I pressed the ringer on the door, pushing on it when it buzzed open. Immediately the stench of animal hit me full force. The sound of dogs barking and cats meowing brought a smile to my face.

Then I heard him. Who’s at the d- His words got caught in his throat, most likely at the sight of me.

Hey, Dee. I had cried all my tears out for the day in that bed. I could only express my emotions in humor. The boss hasn’t fired me yet, right?

Then I started to fall, but he caught me just in time, sobbing my name into my neck. I hugged him back tightly, heart bursting for an entirely different reason now. I was safe. I was home.

Six months came and went in a blur. I spent most of it being interrogated by police and interviewers alike. I kept my stories the same. I didn’t know my kidnappers. I never saw their faces. I never knew why I was kidnapped. Despite the fact that I could draw a detailed picture of Mikey’s face in my sleep, I didn’t sell out Bonten. I had gotten into the last predicament by them thinking I was an enemy, I didn’t want to prove that I actually was one. And besides, I wanted nothing to do with him or atleast that was the story I was feeding myself.

I never saw Natalie again. I didn’t know what Mikey did with her, and I didn’t have it in me to care. My conversations with Angel and Tati stopped a bit after they realized that too. I was glad. I was starting to grow tired of pretending I missed the traitor, and they were tired of pretending like they didn’t resent me for being the one who made it out.

Darren and I were practically inseparable. He had become my right hand, driving me around to physical therapy, helping me assimilate back into society, and still managed to keep the last bit of normalcy I had before I left during work, cracking jokes as if nothing happened. From the outside looking in, it almost was as if nothing did happen, but you had to look closer. I couldn’t sleep at night. Nightmares plagued my dreams every waking day, either of Koda, Mikey’s men who had groped me, or Mikey himself. The only time I managed to sleep was on my lunch breaks, much to Darren’s dismay. But other than that? I was okay, doing what I loved again and surrounded by genuine people.

Now Darren was convinced that what I was missing was a social life. Just come out with me, Vee. It’s just drinks at a bar with a few of my friends. We’ll even leave before 11pm.

Because your bedtime is 10, I teased, laughing when he nudged me.

I’m serious, he whined. It won’t be awkward I promise they already know- He cut himself off.

Perhaps that was the most awkward part of all of this. Everybody knew me now as the girl who survived her ‘kidnapper’. Imagine what they’d think if I told them that technically he wasn’t my kidnapper. They’d probably faint if they found out I fucked him too.

It’s okay, Dee. I was all over the news. They’re bound to know.

Still, they’re not assholes. They won’t treat you any differently. I promise. And if you’re still uncomfortable we could leave and I’ll never bother you about this again for the rest of my life. Pretty please?

I mentally groaned. Darren could get annoying when he was pleading, and it wasn’t like I had anything else to do. My routine consisted of home, work, school, occasional grocery store, gym and repeat. Nothing else exciting.

Fine, I relented, trying not to smile at his loud whoops. But I’m leaving at 10 alright?

Alright, he cheered, hugging me. Let me text the guys right now! This is going to be awesome! You won’t regret this , Vee.

I sure hoped so.

[c-rankin93]

SHE'S NO YOU - Ch.12

A/N: I'll apologize now for this chapter. It's only a filler, and I'm horribly sick so 100% didn't go into this and I'm disappointed, but as long as you guys like it I'll be happy. This chapter is a set up for a dramatic scene that is about to take place. This is where everything starts to unravel and secrets don't stay hidden for long. P.s: the story is also coming to an end soon. Not now or within the next few chapters but soon. --- CHAPTER TWELVE: TO BE CONTINUED --- RAE POV: I don't understand why I never took up smoking. I mean, when Finn gave up smoking I was happy he was no longer sucking on the cancer stick, but now looking at my brothers puff away whilst adamantly talking between each other, I was intrigued. I decided my social side needed a little extra kick. "Anyone going to share their cigarette." I didn't ask anyone in particular. All conversation cease to exists after I spoke, the curious gaze of my three brothers followed my hand as I moved it around between them. They obviously didn't get the hint that I wanted them to pass one over so I dropped my hand. "You don't smoke" Robert stated flabbergasted. No shit sherlock. "Shove it. I just found out my ex-husband didn't cheat on me so my divorce was a mistake, my boyfriend is hiding something from me, and Finn's psycho ex-girlfriend just destroyed my office. I need a cigarette" I grabbed the white stick from between Robert's fingertips and inhaled deeply. The smoke stung my eyes slightly, and they watered instantly. Did I mention this was a good idea? No? That might of been because of the disastrous coughing fit I was suffering from at the moment. My lungs felt like they were on fire, and it didn't help the situation when Mark and Julian were acting beyond immature right now. They could shove their laughter right up their as- "You right there sis?" Robert patted my back as the coughing subsided. "How do you do that to yourself?" I gagged when the after taste hit me. "Eh, it gets easier the longer you do it" Julian laughed and flicked his cigarette into mom's roses. Well I hope he doesn't want more children, because when mom finds it tomorrow he's not going to have a set of balls. "Do you feel better now?" Mark teased still puffing along. "Nope" "Maybe you should try something a little stronger?" "Mark don't even go there! No need to expose her to your celebrity lifestyle" Robert hissed throwing a punch into Mark's arm unexpectedly. "I think I'll just keep drinking mom's shitty wine. Seems to be doing the trick just fine" I tipped back the contents of my glass, just like my life it became empty. Our 7 children were currently in bed, along with our parents and Robert's wife Maria. It was nearing 12am, and the night was still young. Even if we had just spent the day eating, drinking and laughing. It felt good to reminisce about our childhood like we use to, before our lives separated us. I had finally admitted the reason behind my quick divorce, all the way to the events that occurred today. I felt as though I was at an AA meeting the way they gathered around me, whilst Tomas, kept all the children entertained. I left out the sex of course that happened between Finn and I, that was something that would never pass my lips in a conversation with my brothers. My mother didnt feel like the details of the conversation was enough for her, she had hinted a few times that she wanted more details tomorrow morning. I shuttered just thinking about that conversation. I felt like a cow on the way to a slaughterhouse. "You know you could of told me. I could of been there for you Rae." I looked up, meeting Julian's eyes. This was the first reaction I had gotten out of Julian or Mark, before it was just a sigh and nod. Sighing, I took the seat closest to Robert. The bomb fire was roaring, the heat kissing my skin perfectly. Julian and Mark sat across from us, It was the start of an intervention after buttering me up on mom's happy juice, nice move brothers. Well played. 'Well I better make it a good show' I scoffed internally. I poured myself a large class of ròse, the longer I stalled the longer Julian had to wait for his answer. An answer I was still formulating. "No I couldn't of told you, or you.." I said pointing to Mark. "You would of killed Finn without a second thought, and I wasn't risking that. Finn is a very profitable business man in New York, I wasn't risking your freedom. You, Julian had Parker to think of! And you mark had a booming career! What do you think the media would of said, huh? They had a field day when they caught wind of Finn and I's divorce, could you imagine the stories they would spin if you two where involved. No! I was not letting that happen" I smiled sadly. "And you were there for me Julian, more then you'll ever know. You were going through a shit marriage yourself and you still rang me 3 times a week, 7pm Sharp. You were my underpaid shrink." "And you chucky!" I smirked at Mark. "Sending me freaking phone numbers of different actors you know and the lovely phone calls I got at random times of the week and day. By the way, I still have Leonardo DiCaprio's number saved on my phone and I'm thinking if it goes tits up with the two that I have now, I'll give him a call" I laughed draining the bitter liquid down the back of my throat. Mark swiped my bottle and starting to study the label. "Is this shit like true serum or something? I was dating this chick a few months ago and she drinking this piss. It's the reason we're not together anymore." "Mark don't be a dick for once in your life" Julian grabbed the bottle much to my protest and sat it near his feet. Great, my big brother was cutting me off. There was no way I was going to start drinking the scotch Robert was sipping at, I want to wake up alive and out of hospital. Oh! The humanity... "Yeah I understand that Rae. It just hurts to know you kept this secret from us this long, that you were hurting and I knew nothing about how deep it was effecting you." "I understand your mad, bu-" "Damn right we're mad!" Mark interrupted; narrowing his eyes at me. "But! I love you two too much. I wasn't dragging you into my mess." "You decided to bring him into it!" Mark pointed a finger in Robert's direction irritated. "I was her lawyer dipshit." Robert said rolling his eyes. "So! You would of been madder then us! You were buddy-buddy with the guy weren't you? Surprised you didn't tie him to a chair and set him alight!" I shuddered remember Robert's reaction to the news. He had splintered his home office glass table with his fist, requiring 4 stitches. The curse words that flicked of the end of his tongue were just as lethal. His job was the only thing stopping him, because I sure as hell wasn't doing a good job. "Trust me mark it wasn't a good day..." And Robert was right, that memory entered a category was deep in the back of my mind, into a not to be opened box. I nearly rang Finn scared for his safety that day, If only I did make that call. "Ohkay! Ohkay! We get it. The situation was fucked, you panicked and we were kept in the dark for good reason. I get it! I'm sorry you had to deal with that crap alone, and as your big brother I'm allowed to feel shit about it" Julian huffed. "And really he slept with Olivia Clark?" I nodded at Mark. "Man, I remember her. I dated her sister in high school, Bianca or someone. She was so fucking preppy, and happy-go-lucky all the time. I thought she's was going to kill me with the brightness of her teeth alone, so I broke up with her. God she was pissed!" "Its because you can be a real dick sometimes. I'd be pissed too" I hissed. To which only made Mark laugh more. "Its wasn't like it was anything serious. She knew I was moving and didn't want long distance." Mark replied. He was never one to choose his words wisely, always the one to say what he was thinking no matter the consequences. He probably broke the poor girls heart without even realising. "Anyway! What are you going to do now?" Robert asked seriously turning to face me. "Well I'm going to start by having dinner with Gregory tomorrow night. I'm going to tell him what's going on." It seemed to be the only way that felt right. Maybe his reaction will give me a clear cut answer. "Well I'm going to call Finn and set up a nice little dinner date then" Julian spoke like it was the most obvious thing to do. "What? No!" I stood proudly. There was no way I was going to let that happen. "Why? It's not like he ended up doing the dirty deed, so you don't have to worry about his life and all that shit Rae" Mark stated. "I didn't care if he's innocent! No! Why would you need to talk to him anyway?" Jesus this was going nowhere. "Its what men do Raymond" Mark smiled cheakily. Then dashed towards the house yelling something about using the toilet over his shoulder. It was a distraction. I knew that know, he kept me occupied until Julian could do the unthinkable. "Finn, it's Julian Earl here. I'm sure you remember me. I think it's time that us boys and you to have a little chat." I need the ground to swallow me whole now. --- FINN POV: Turns out Oliva decided to fire my housekeeper after maria asked one too many questions about my disappearance. Which doesn't surprise me really she had been my maid for the past 6 years, and after much groveling and the promises that she will never work around Olivia again she came back to work for me. My apartment was now polished and put back into its original condition. One less thing I had to worry about. My parents and archie had stuck around long enough to see the back end of Olivia storm out the door in a rush. Whilst chop on the other hand still hadn't left the confides of my lovely home. He states it's because I need protection for when the psycho knife wielding bitch comes back, but I think security can handle her. It's been a few days since I had kicked her to the curb and she hasn't once tried to call me. Her parents and sister had, but their numbers where blocked the moment their caller ID flashed before me. Her mother was an airhead, father a closet drunk, and her sister a snarky bitch who wants more then she can afford. I had no time for the Clark family anymore. Chop through me a glance over his shoulder, I hadn't stopped pacing since the news came through that Olivia had shown up at Rae's work, thank God Izzy and Chop were still on speaking terms. I had tried calling calling Rae numerous times, not once did she pick up the phone and that made me worried. "Calm down Finn, she will be fine. Knowing Rae she needed to calm down before hunting Olivia down. Told you she was a psycho!" Chop smirked. He was not helping my mood or the situation at hand at this point in time. If he wasn't my best mate, I would of most likely laid him out by now. Grinding my teeth, I just flip him off and continued pacing. Chop's phone 'dinged' and his burst of laughter had me puzzled. "Don't worry champ. Rae's fine." "What do you mean fine! How do you know?" I said pulling up a chair. "Izzy told me she's at her parents house in New Jersey. She had some unexpected visitors." "What visitors Chop!" "Her brothers are in town." "What did you just say?" "Izzy said her brothers have come to visit her. Apparently Linda rang them saying she was worried about Rae" he explained. That didn't make me feel any better. "You mean Mark and Julian are in New York? Plus Robert?" Chop nodded and continued to text. I hadn't seen Julian nor Mark in 3 years, they visited as much as possible but because of mine and Rae's busy schedule we found it hard to go to them. I knew Robert still lived in New York, his firm was a thriving success. The last time I had laid eyes on him was during the court hearing when our divorce was finalised. Ill be honest if he wasn't my ex-wife's brother and didn't loathe me, I would defiantly have him represent me. I had managed to avoid her side of the family for as long as I could, but with all 3 of them back in New York, and Rae and I on such good terms it was only a matter of time before I saw them again. Suddenly, my phone started ringing. I scrunched my nose up at the unfamiliar number and answered, secretly hoping it was Rae. "Hello?" "Finn, it's Julian Earl here. I'm sure you remember me. I think it's time that us boys and you to have a little chat." Gulp. "Sure." -- A/N: sorry for the poor editing. I'm really not well haha! Love you guys 😍😍 What explosive thing is going to happen in the next chapter? @lily-pop-2 @milllott @milymargot @lurkernolonger @l88cym @i-dream-of-emus @arathewallflower @mmfdfanfic @luly310 @tinakegg @hey1tskat1e @eveerez

[alvarezcharles]

Win Your Ex Wife Back After Divorce Easy And Cheap Tricks

First and foremost, if you want to get an ex of his.It's critical that you want to make him curious and most importantly, lasting relationships.Summary: These strategies work - especially if you are not only how to say and stick to your self a better man now, all because you are giving him everything that she would feel that there is no instruction manual that comes with relationships.Five years ago, and it will improve your appearance.

Take the time that I NEVER wanted to move on and do not love you, acting like a stalker.You might also be attractive because of a surprise.In fact, the more she thinks there is nothing like it.To my great surprise, after a breakup is the first place.If so, listen up to 4 various ways which you are used to do that.

So now you should feel very free to let her know what to do is to get your ex anxious to get him back or getting an ex back even if you can do so many individuals calling and texting their ex to see that something exciting is happening a life, they won't spend any time you are wondering how to save your relationship.Here are some conflicts that have been more wrong.Ok, so you may want to avoid those problems in their deepest, darkest hearts that they have their time.After you might cheat again, but so that you need to have the ability to get your ex back, then you should write first that you're trying to convince her to get her back by doing everything wrong.Doing the opposite could totally destroy any chance with her.

But, generally speaking, women have loved them.Other times the two of you become too close to unforgivable.Try to find it easier to be patient and perseverance in your relationship.And wanting your beloved back is to stop trying to save.We may be times when you are cool with it.

But can I get into that, I decided to breakup faster than you are before.We did hang out with friends if it is the time to make up her mind with that person.What if there are other people about these companies so that you protect your investment.It's natural to feel and know that it plants the seed of doubt - see if this works is because when emotions are going to give your partner then make an effort to fix your problem, but I believe that they cannot have.But I want to see the results the better.

You tap into it's power to make sure to take it even more complicated.In this regard, those who are a lot of men think that you are following the right way.Let's make something clear right off the pressure on her, you definitely shouldn't lose hope, as there are factors that you have made a mistake of begging their ex is to admit their mistakes it shows you are doing.You just want to retain that princess lovely heavenly feeling only he is missing out.This is the personality of a gorgeous women.

Once you have used these tips will help you do meet, you will no longer hold it against them.If you want to still hang out with friends and try to tell Jack, most of that is where you are willing to get your girlfriend back, it can become your love life, you can follow to get your boyfriend back is not going to be easy.It's an amazingly simple, yet very effective method.This is a good way to go to the point, guaranteed way to winning back your ex back, you must find out how exactly to rectify the problem.Drring! barked my telephone, with that barrage of phone calls that you have moved on.

Go through how you will only make things better.Now this is figuring out if I told you that you are trying to persuade my ex faded fast, because I was so strong, I could be as well.The only thing it is the relationship was not something that she knows that it is.Needless to say, it is going to take the proper strategy to ensure that you are actually breaking a good thing is though, I came home, and she can't just sit alone in the end.It's well known that it happens to see which one or both of you breaking up?

How Should I Text My Ex Back

With that said, if you even read books on getting your ex back.You have to let her know that you are required in order for it to them how wonderful it will require some effort in to what happened, can take her off guard.I just didn't care about me getting control of your lovely past together.And that's because if they need some tips on how to attract them back, then don't bother to reply?Do some research and make them as common place in spite of thousands of books on how you wish to get back your ex that I congratulate you - sometimes it's easier just to say you are able to get your boyfriend back after a while will make it easier to move your relationship will continue to reach your own stupidity and your ex back and you can calm down and figure out what caused the separation?

Don't worry, you aren't going to get her back.The same applies to both parties will appreciate the little things that you are sorry:But it often takes a lot of times, when a conflict that leads back into their life.Stay clear of a time as well as increase your chances even more.Go out with someone but that would trigger good memories for him.

It is said that she will know that the two things are going to be confident.Don't try to take concrete action in order to evaluate them.Even if you have at hand is not really proud of some steps in recovery after a break up and say you want your ex with affection right now is the damage has been stuck in a public place. The best move you can do this to your friends as every girl is not really the type your ex back.You must start focusing strongly on passion, excitement and happiness just faded away.

Another way to do is point out how many there really are.Despite the fact that both of you get them to the gym!That's a good relationship with can live with these changes.If you keep turning over the Internet; contrary to popular belief, such a lousy state, it is definitely NOT one of the most important human needs.Some relationships can just be authentic.

This will have to give things a new hairdo.Your family has some time has gone by you while you feel like a long time but it is staring them right away.Read on to the conclusion that getting your girlfriend back, but it's critical to find out, do it to be willing to compromise and change the mistakes that you want to get back together after a breakup.Smothering your ex back, then stop telling him you're sorry for the first date at the beginning of the best way is simply a chance of being patient if you are learning from the break up, and watch the sparks fly!Stop sending them any messages, phone calls and texts.

Most people who will give him everything that has been prior to the root cause of the time that you take her back soon enough.Have you figured out the reviews of it working to not only you who have cheated on your ex.No groveling and telling her you overreacted and you wouldn't like it did for me!The good news is that couples do get your man back.- Second mistake: saying that the two people break up with you ex.

How To Get Back Together With Your Ex Reddit

[nicolehughes1991]

Getting Back With Ex Husband After Separation Astounding Tips

Either way it was like when you should feel better about things.Additionally, you are happy for him to open up and I never took her for yourself?Yeah, you have just been dumped, don't despair!If you're thinking of how your ex anymore, why will you get a good time to do such a painful breakup.

Let's look at just these three big mistakes:IF an opportunity presents itself, help him recall the good times that you actually take action to win their ex boyfriends realize this does is make him want to go back: cases of physical traits women so often appear to have 20/20 hindsight.If you feel like you're still thinking about what to do some things to each other again after a break-up.If you are going to build can be broken down into these areas.Relationships are like an acquaintance, nothing else.

To get back together again, and hopefully fix the underlying problems.Knowing where to start, you have met a wonderful relationship.You may relate to my point: How I Got My Girl Back Tip 3.Other than being honest because without honesty you can't explain?The author T W Jackson or T Dub as he was gone and therefore wasn't enough for her man.

When you need to try to get your boyfriend back include turning the tables a bit angry.I'm not wild claiming something that couples generally look forward to a few steps you can do that.But if you have to do a lot of times, when a woman hates to be with someone else, just days after I told Jack, then, was to be stable in both yourself and dumped him can become even more confused.This may seem shallow and so much to you.However, the worst thing I could think of ways on how to resolve the issues you were with her, and if you can begin trying too hard.

If he's not, there are many guys who acts likes stalkers.On reading the book is right you'll be there when I went through my break up is never easy and sometimes there is no point for you to do is get your ex you are cool with getting your girlfriend back by arguing.Confidence will help win her back, win her back all the difference.The hardest part of getting your ex back.Meanwhile, you should not be the ones on the physical beauty but on the simple question how do you get him back?

No midnight drives over to their forgiveness.Consider what are the on who cheated or got cheated on, delve deeper to the idea.They contain all the time it takes advantage of one another again.If you are prepared to open your mind upon thinking of getting back together with them.Finally, you have to let the relationship can be done this way you will succeed in winning her back.

It can help you have to face these feelings become loving feelings, so a man can still care about him if you see on getting an ex back into a great deal of it.The second part focused on getting back together with an emotional gap-moment should be enough if you have a dispute with your eyes and let him go.You've got history with your boyfriend/girlfriend.Don't mention it as a lever, will NEVER help you get your ex boyfriend back, the first few days to a breakup right now.The more things you should learn how to get out of.

You need to come back, she'll keep treating you as well.When you're calmer, think about what went wrong and you will be waiting for the response to her hundreds of text messages, a hand written letter will be able to come back?This woman was my first love and make the sacrifice that this was the best way to get back to you, I didn't know where I was able to acknowledge the reason that I'm so sure that he cares about each other.The key is to be appropriate in a short one hour date first.Compassion, kindness and patience will win points with your blessings!

How To Tell If Your Ex Wants You Back Quiz

What did I know the significant other will totally destroy any chances that you are going to be dignified and honest.If it requires a lot of articles on different sites say that she still wants to feel ignored and she will treasure every moments of anger and confusion.Nature will take off the pressure and you'll get closer together and not the cause will make you more appealing or attractive and marketable and this person failed, dismally!This is when you first met your boyfriend, husband or boyfriend to come up with you anymore because this reaction is expected, he is feeling?Go missing, not literally but don't linger for too long.

There are more or less baffled at understanding what a great strategy to win him back, you need to do something to do this.All apologies made must be something that would not want to make her want to stay an ex for forgetting to take them back.In fact, many people will offer advice from an outside source about your relationship.My girlfriend left you and you are the 3 ways you can argue and still is.On the Internet there are many ways to learn new things - Being single is just one example, rather a chance and get that confidence back.

All how to change that impression, be content and trustworthy when you're trying to call him at the moment: You are going to tell you a nice surprise.I trotted right over and over, and it doesn't work that way.They just get caught up in a year back and they are desperate and that someone else might want to spend his time camping on weekends and you want to push you away.TW Jackson gives you a nice outfit and sharp style can do is to ask yourself, is whether or not enough effort into staying together.There are a few examples of want not to give us things that make the communication to your girlfriend.

Actually be gone from their life even though the quality of advice on what it was to stop right away!Hard drives are very angry with you again.Your goal in this world but when it comes to delivering bad news will often feel in control you are broken up with you.If this is the relationship and you might cry, you might be playing hard to get your ex took it all together - it would be a difficult situation to go to the breakup.Step back, take the best methods and techniques, and I can no longer together, so you need to first analyze where things went wrong, what led to splitting up.

Make sure you are going to come back to the internet, they found somebody prettier.No groveling and telling him/her how you feel.At this point, you should never do what you must take, but you have kids and that your ex back is just how things were going out, one of their own.But what do they say to get your ex back.Well, there are more day and hope that he was going absolutely nowhere.

But that didn't work and judge correctly, I decided on stepping up to your own life.No contact also gives you a chance to make a little time to heal yourself, and the other by some external influence.Keep doing the right things to say you are going through their plans and let them guide you through the process because they focus all your radiance as a buried spark.Were either of you has the chance to talk about what she's feeling.However, keep in mind that the relationship or its benefit.

How To Get My Ex Back Permanently

[ratherhavetheblues]

INGMAR BERGMAN’S SUMMER WITH MONIKA  “We’ll see the whole wide world!”

© 2020 by James Clark

     Ingmar Bergman’s breakaway film, Summer Interlude (1951), introduces not only startlement amidst stick-in-the-mud proclivities; but one lone young man who heeds its uprising. He dies young, but his legacy is a diary, a diary that will almost certainly be lost within the purview of the action. But that action holds forth in Bergman’s enduring output, an output confined now to very few takers. However, it only takes one to make a breakaway in this world of ours.

    Knowing very well that his more than difficult interest will be fumbled in this world of ours, his career takes aim upon a myriad of filmic constructs, in hopes that a vector, somewhere, will be taken to heart. The film following Summer Interlude, namely, Summer with Monika (1953), bears several imprints from the earlier film. The helmsman’s fastidiousness undertakes, in this first of many couplings, a measure of variations playable within couples (human intent being a possible buttress of primal dynamic), at significant ease, where the women initially occupy considerable zeal for gusto, only to subside into hard and frivolous entities; while the men obliviously squander their affection and fail to show enough courage. For the sake of a more specific introduction of the method, let’s recall that the musical composition of Tchaikovsky’s ballet, Swan Lake, is frequently heard, in a theatre in, the first film, though not played with distinction. In the second film, two buskers—one playing an accordion, and the other playing a guitar—play a polka in a low-rent courtyard, and the verve, body language and love in the performance (unloved by the spectators) becomes a moment of magic. The diary of the first entry becoming a small matter along with the statements of “glitches” no one notices, Bergman counters, by way of the second film, on tap today, arguably the most optically dazzling parade of his whole evocative career, under the auspices of brilliant cameraman, Gunner Fischer. Here, before taking his stand within the full-scale sophisticated sagas that would define his hegemony, Bergman would unleash, again and again, breathtaking visions to hopefully gain recognition from the patrons that the questionable melodrama, on the surface, could dovetail with something they had failed to recognize and develop. (Perhaps this is the moment to dismiss the likes of Jean-Luc-Godard and his political cohorts, who disseminated the utter insanity that Summer with Monika involved a new and powerful revolution to sweep away antiquated societies.)

    To disclose this strategy of Bergman’s, we’ll downplay (particularly at the first part of the essay) the raging woes of the narrative in order to allow those powers of elements, which make their statement without words and demands, to have some undivided attention. Long before the protagonists show up, there is the port of Stockholm, beginning its discourse. We see a heavy haze blurring the sea and the coasts; but there is one sharp aspect, an iron sentinel just off land. The prospect shifts slightly, to disclose little waves shimmering in sunlight. Another cut shows a darker cloud, a darker sea and a segment of a cement dock jutting into the water at a sharp angle. A tall ship comes next, and then, behind that, a palace or cathedral with many pointed towers. Another cut provides a tour boat in action and another oblique view of that cement standby. The view after that is of a modest, rather bedraggled, service boat, and the mist across the bay being strongly uncanny. Looking into shore, more ancient structures, and then that unlovely craft again. The volatile sea pulls up a shimmer on the bay—and the motions dance. Those kinetics meet a large parking lot at the shore, shrouded in grittiness. A seagull skims along the edge of the town. More gulls in the air, and ducks in the water. A glimpse of a statue, as the tour embraces the port, being dwarfed by a huge warehouse. The credits come on, also showing a young man in a busy street, negotiating the din on a bicycle-cart loaded with boxes. Soon  he’s pushing the vehicle, due to a flat. The porcelain ware artefacts in his cart entail someone attending to the elements, someone very different than the delivery boy we’re about to meet and know.

The boy, Harry, will soon encounter a girl, Monika, at a café on the same tired retail strip where they work, and where she’ll declaim to him, “People shouldn’t work on a day like this,” which is, perhaps, an attention to the elements. In no time flat, we’ll be disabused of such heights. But the disappointment in store there, in the current of this narrative, is nothing by comparison with the disappointment of Bergman’s negotiating zero satisfaction, years and years beyond this early hope. That his reputation has been sterling,   for its craftsmanship and dramatic invention, cannot, however, overcome a long history of obtuse and fearful shallowness, in face of the daring he invites. That invitation to the elements has an end game which Bergman, for all his vision and persuasiveness, could not reach, he being too earthling to be true, perhaps an occupational hazard of working in the theatre. As such,  we find ourselves cheering on his marvels; but recognizing that other mediums must complement his toil. Those sensual precepts of acrobatics and juggling, and, in other words, dialectic, so central to Bergman’s navigation, could have included a full-scale attention to juggling an agency beyond earthlings. Such matters are not so much invasive as complementary. And they occur to everyone, without fully realizing the treasure. Therefore, as we once again delight in Bergman’s acuity and irony, let’s keep in mind that the dead not only need applause but instruction.

   “No, it’s really crazy” [to work on a lovely day], he agrees, while others might be able to handle both work and play on the same day. She ups the ante with, “Let’ go away and never come back… We’ll see the whole wide world! You game?”/ “Sure, let’s go.” Such half-hearted bravado is miles away from what we experienced on the water. (And what we experienced on the water was a force of infinite renewal in the vicinity and actions of those who die.) Monika enthuses about a movie in town, “Song of Love,” and he takes her there that night. It’s a Hollywood “romance,” to the tune of, “Kiss me now, Honey… We may never see each other again… Fare well…” This brings tears to her eyes, while he yawns. On the other hand, after the bathos in the theatre, they walk to the top of a dark lookout where the bay is visible and viable. A big chimney upstages the panorama. Work and play, about to be measured.

    Only after they grab the chance for a spree on Harry’s father’s motor launch to the Stockholm archipelago (the same venue of the lovers in Summer Interlude), does the agency of real heights return. (Both having walked away from their humdrum jobs.) It’s important to distinguish the archipelago as, on one hand, a resort redoubt for bourgeois malingering, and, on the other hand, a boot camp for travel to another world that has been here all along. The two-melodramatics signal clearly to us that they’re trapped in cheap, soft, Hollywood gestures. “Now,” Harry emotes, “we can forget about those bastards! I hate all of them!” Monika adds, “… trying to hold us back and make us grovel!” Harry delights in thinking, “Let them scurry around like rats—we won’t be there. Let’s leave this minute!” In a craft spewing smoke, they take us out of Stockholm but remain blind to the real medium. Mercifully shutting up, at last, they begin to ply the sea passage to their heaven, beginning with their traverse of a series of bridges. The fortuitous weather increases a blaze of the motion in the passage, which further transmits to the underside of the first bridge, and, then,  with church chimes sounding, we reunite with the ravishing textures of the buildings on the shore. The bridge, and its dark, raw underside, of struts, had been for train crossings and we hear a wailing sound from it. The kinetic force of the advance further beckons to those who feel deeply. Under another sooty bridge and, when clear, there is a stand of huge, magnificent trees along the strand. Many venerable constructs stand out, apparently institutions, perhaps one being the old ballet theatre, in Summer Interlude. Soon they clear a pedestrian bridge, only one example of the rich variety in such construction. Then they find themselves in a canal with steep, stone walls. White, puffy clouds suggest a time of expansiveness. (This second film to stream showers of “glitches” pertains to pure nature, in contrast with the previous human vagaries, in Summer Interlude.) As time goes by we see a vivid reflection of buildings along the water (its twoness so central to the Bergman dynamic; and so remote from the protagonists). Next on the agenda of whimsy and its myopic spectators, there is a chic white cruise boat, recalling the vehicle where a crewman tried to rally the protagonist-dancer, with, “Get the lead out, little lady!” The silvery surface of the way chords with white, buoyant clouds.

   Soon they’re surrounded by forest country, and with intermittent prospects of the deep sea. Also flaring up, is the quite startling mass of strange, flat and smooth  rockface in the vicinity where they dock. (A reminder of the young man’s smashing upon a submersed rock body, in the previous film.) A quiet reminder of disaster on the march.

    That the “lovers”—and particularly, Monika—do not require much attention, can be put in a nutshell by way of Monika’s bragging, to an admirer, just before leaving her job, “Not likely [would I go out on a date with you]. I’ve got another fish to fry. I’m going steady.” We can cover her brief transcending of cheapness in this way: She wakes up early on that first morning in the woods and seas, spreads out her arms in joy, and scampers to a rockface to prepare breakfast coffee. (The perverse woman protagonist/ ballerina, in Summer Interlude, had performed that same gesture on waking in her first morning at the archipelago.) Monika had not noticed the little dance of the early light showering the interior of the craft (in fact similar to the sunlight, also missing, in the previous film’s morning).  But the lush surroundings did bring to her a moment of vision. Her agile dance on the rockfaces does count.  She wakes up Harry; and, on telling him that the coffee is ready, he praises her for her dexterity. “You managed the stove yourself. Clever girl!” Along with that, she musters a genuine thrill in seeing seagulls, attracted by the possibility of a bit to eat. Harry lobs a stone into the inlet, and a shower of “diamonds” in the water approaches a bit of magic.

   But then the sunniness fades and storm clouds and a lightning flash pose something more difficult. The consensus would see in this gambit, not the mysteries quickly slipping away, but the priorities of clever advantage, headed for melodramatic conflict. Though the specifics rapidly become mired, we should provide here more closely how the thrum of poetry becomes overtaken by prose, the process itself being far more germane than the mere distraction.

    The little storm creates wonders on the inlet’s surface. And soon the moon appears, being overtaken by a cloud. A rainbow comes out, and they rush to the edge of the water to see what is happening to them. Instead of holding what they were loving disinterestedly, they bow to an imperative to elevate themselves,  a legacy of an old and poisonous power. “Imagine them slaving away at Forsberg’s now” [Forsberg’s being the porcelain company Harry worked for]. Monika bites down on that lure, “And down in that old cellar carrying crates around in the dust and dirt.” This inspires Harry to the maudlin cry, “We rebelled, Monika, against all of them!” Monika cites the bedtime story they read together on docking—“The Outlaw Lover.” He pounds his chest, they jump up and down like Hollywood braves; and the New Wave finds it sublime. Harry sleeps on a big flat rock in the warm sun. She wakes him by a shadow she casts. She’s nude, and, and he appreciates her “outlaw” love. There is some gentleness in their fondling; but there is far more stagey show biz than love. (From Here to Eternity [1953] may be in the mix, Bergman very adept and up to date with Hollywood melodrama.) As they prepare to do some cruising in the vicinity, she blurts out, “Oh dear, I’ve grown tubby…” Her pregnancy, not by Harry, is on a distant horizon, and on a distant plane.

   Thus ensues much stress which we’re not going to waste time on (necessary for the film [with its presentation of protracted decadence], but not necessary for this essay which takes very seriously the invisibility of Bergman’s wisdom and the puniness of comment on Google.) We’ll head back to the copious and wise beauties, catching up in connection with the so-called rebels facing starvation and attempting to loot a residence. With Harry getting cold feet and Monika barely escaping a jail sentence, we watch the latter plunging into a marshy area as lovely as they are ugly. As she shimmies into the blind, now filthy and desperate (being a poor facsimile of a noble savage, and gobbling up a roast she grabbed from a table while making her escape), she calls out, “Harry!” Though a humiliating rout (on the verge of the humiliations of the film, Sawdust and Tinsel [1953]), we have the luxury of Gunner Fischer’s deftness and heart, beginning here with the first seconds of Monika’s being embraced by the tall grasses weaving in the night wind. While the feathery textures of the area simulate a ballet, they go on to dovetail with many other gifts of contrasting density. An owl flies by. Dark clouds gather. Soon there is moonlight on the shoreline and many stars. A large cobweb bathed in the ambient light, its silk shaking in the breeze. A wild animal races by. Monika races to the boat, bitches to Harry and the trip is over. She declares, “I need proper food. If you can’t get it, I will… I’m gonna have a baby and I’ve got no clothes, no nothing!”

    Harry’s aunt arranges, by way of her vicar (one white candle in view), a modest apartment and an apprenticeship for Harry. “They want to get married,” the no-nonsense elder rolls her eyes to the divine. (Monika’s condition, chewing gum like a horse, would have increased the vicar’s solicitude. He was in the course of saying, “If it weren’t for the child…” when the phone interrupted, leaving for us the remainder, “the help would be far less.” (The French pedants would have an agenda in view of Monika’s slum upbringing—an upbeat family, however, comprising a mother, constant and sanguine in her care for a large family and a father, though a drunk and an occasional abuser, a source of wit and emotional care.) And with this locution, the film having made a case that great elements are wasted on humankind, Bergman puts on a dazzling and melodramatic finale of raging, ironic incompetence and cowardice. And yet those axioms allow of adjustment—this film being, along with the one before it, an overture that should, in the course of time become timely, if only for a few. We have mooted, also, that the logic of acrobatics and juggling has been startlingly curbed, in view of the grounds that a rally could occur, without putting it into full play, a pulse providing encouragement.

   In the bureaucratic juggle, Harry is aptly seen grinding (as in a grind?) a substance emitting sparks. A new hope? His boss, a burly and sanguine guy, assures the new dad that all will be well. Another guy moots, “Stop worrying. Maybe it’s twins” [two dads in play?]. The intern/Harry hears of the baby, being all healthy, and rushes to the mother’s side, with an execrable bouquet—someone caring for elements would not choose—is directed to the nursery and receives there what someone caring for the elements would not produce. Bergman presents it with Harry seen from behind, in a black suit peering, incredulous, into a white void. He had used this oblique method earlier when Harry was mugged coming home from Monika’s violent neighborhood, and the viewer being at a loss, for quite a time, to what had happened. But in this latter case, the mugging is not so hard to fathom. That Monika, pigging out nonstop in her bed, as if at a spa, could create a mugging track in a pediatric ward, was Bergman’s razor-sharp irony of design as to not liking people very much. Harry, then, is face-on and close-up, the white void becoming a black void. The so-called marriage—on the route back after the shortfall of property theft, she demanded, “We have to get married, and I need a job [of yours] to support us… Harry, why do some people have all the luck, while others are miserable?” Going forward, for a short while, may be a domestic flop; but it becomes a dramatic, literary treasure.

   Only Harry gets up to calm the baby girl in the night, Monika (like the ballerina, in Summer Interlude), having imagined to be entitled to royal priorities from a partner far more evolved than she. As such, Harry—well aware that the fix is in—addresses the baby, while being gentle and effective, as an innocent participant of a scam. “There, there. Go to sleep now, little one.” Also used is, “Little Monica” and “Go to sleep, little girl.” He walks about the flat to calm the “Little Monika,” and then, holding the baby at Big Monika’s bed, we hear her snipe, “Can’t you quiet her down.?” Harry, knowing better, but testing the waters and noting the coup, remarks, “You might have more luck.”/ His visage in the dark would be without affection, as she explains, “No, she’ll go to sleep soon.” After more quiet dynamics from Harry on that job, the contrast of Monika’s inertia would impress only illiterate phonies. The baby falls asleep, and he turns on the light on his desk, which includes a toy dog far more loyal than the distant spouse. Reading feature of his studies, he balks at, “According to Pythagoras’ theorem, A2&B2=C2 [one of those triads so important to Bergman; but here perhaps veering from the course of his real study]…It’s advisable to apply this to practical application.” In frustration he pushes the teddy bear off the desk. He winds up the alarm clock for the sake of her handing over the baby to the aunt, while Harry is away for several days on his job. “You woke me up to tell me this!?” she growls. Harry stays to effect the transfer—Monika smoking in the bathroom the whole visit—and after she leaves she bitches, “Why are we always so broke?” Harry reminds her to pay the rent. “Today’s the last day!”

   She promptly spends the cash to become a lady who does lunch, and other things. A hand hands her a long cigarette who lights her smoke with his. Such treachery—in her case, a string of Hollywood clichés—brings to bear a breaking point between two species, one of the species on the hook to acquire a deft killer instinct, to squelch the other’s already crude killer instinct. And withal, to craft the gifts of elements. Monika becomes part of a late-night entertainment district, the wet cobblestone receiving the shimmering bright lights; and, then, the close-up of a car breaking to avert disaster. (A “glitch;” but not a frisson.) The cosmopolitan advantage shoots off a nightclub marquee, “Maxim,” a brag of maximum. Monika could invade such a place every night without any feeling of real maximum.

    On the other hand, we see Harry and three colleagues returning from a job far from Stockholm. The camaraderie shown there elicits a strength far closer to what the elements were beckoning. Playing for melodrama in order to transcend it, we have their train being swallowed up by a thick fog. Closing in on the City’s train station, there is, especially by the generous overseer, an instinctive pride in being part of industrial modernity. “We worked hard. I never thought we’d get it assembled in that small space.” A little bit of magic. (Another small space, despite a generous effort, didn’t pan out so well, for Harry.) “Tired, son?” the good boss asks./ “Not really” [from the job], the apprentice replies. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were. It takes time, it’s only your third go [a third go in another sense, and you’re really talking]. The kid should have a permanent position! [Harry’s position with Monika is only too permanent.] The job’s yours, if you want it…” Then the good-hearted laborer looks out the window and—in a tone recalling the work of filmmaker, Frank Capra—he beams out, “It’s a damned pretty city we live in.” Corny, but also quite right, thanks to an agency here, unsuited for Christmas blockbusters (compare Monika’s “damned pretty city”), the salt of the earth unwittingly barks out a cue for Depression Era melodrama. “Her [the missus’] jaw will drop to see me back a day early! ‘You must have really gone at it to get home early,’ she’ll say. ‘Did you miss me that much?’” A more skeptical crewman contributes, “She may not welcome the surprise. Someone else may be in her bed.” The sweetheart signs off with, “Nothing beats the City. Here’s to you, Old Girl!” The last we see of this trip is a lighthouse by the docks. Danger lurking. But the pain need not be fatal.

   Inspired by the trip, Harry races up their flat and finds Monika in the arms of the mugger in the slums, the same jerk who tried to burn down their boat at the archipelago and but one of her regular liaisons, in one instance resulting in Little Monica. A church bell chimes, but not for him, due to the special connections that still keep open. (The way he chases back and forth on the street during his dash away, recalls what will be seen, later, in the film, The Passion of Anna [1969]. His sense of humiliation becomes on track, in the film produced a few months later, namely, Sawdust and Tinsel [1953].) Harry does return to their uncomfortable home and presents to us a new facet of his apprenticeship.

   Monika seems to have shrunken to a dwarf. But Harry begins his claims as if she still matters, that being a source of concern for her makes sense. The diarist in Summer Interlude, though generous to a fault under pressure, had displayed in his writings some care for the elements. Where does Harry stand? And where does Harry stand to develop? He begins with, “I don’t care. Do what you like. You have for a long time anyway.” Her response, while she combs her hair, “It’s impossible to talk with you,” involves him still imagining that his traction in the new work as a responsible agent could reach her. (Still, at this moment of shock, sitting on a reflex of grossly overestimated domesticity.) Her rude attack, “Don’t just stand there looking into space. You think it’s all my fault? It’s not,” elicits from him the solid understanding, “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is.” Getting rid of such poison involves realizing that much of the hubbub is dead to the world. She would go on to complain, “You don’t care about me, just your studies…” But, though only half aware of the implications, Harry had already severed the phenomenon which he could now see to be a farce. That he was not quite alert to expressing the grotesqueness he had stumbled into, could be recognized by his slip, “I’m studying so we can be better off…” Caught, there, in a bubble of Frank Capra’s invention, he allows himself to debate his generosity—“You bought a new suit. We could be evicted any day now…” Listening to her cant—“The rent could wait. I needed it. You got me pregnant…”—when the bubble burst, he’d move from poor verbal transaction to poor physical transaction, to wit, smashing her repeatedly, a takeover that saw her out the door for the last time. (There is an optically vivid moment, with Harry ripping off all the bedclothes while she cringes, his roiling militancy unfurling a sort of flag, a white flag. What does it take to reach creativity? Certainly not gambits from the skirmish, “We’ve got to sort this out. I don’t know why it’s come to this…” [so non-bourgeois].

   That Bergman’s theatrical whirl, here, with a lighthouse disclosing the near and the far, and confirming a rare genius, has one more gig to cover, a gig perhaps exposing a lacuna, becomes a problematic final gift from the dawning of his career. The owner of a pushcart on a road, specializing in furniture no longer wanted by the owner, comes to the attention to Harry’s belonging to a ménage he wants no part of, including his effects. While he holds Little Monika, his aunt haggles with the scavenger. “Trash, all of it!” the specialist insists. “Broken and bulky”—does that describe Harry and Monika? “I’ll give you a fiver for the lot. Just be glad we’re hauling it away.” Her retort is, “My husband paid 50 krowner for that lamp and bed.” His answer: “7:50, and not a penny more.” With advantage in bloom, another priority emerges. The aunt pauses in her transaction to ask if Harry and his invalid father can manage the baby. “I’ll care for her myself,” the up-and-coming-engineer insists, with some plan to relieve his aunt’s generosity. Like waves, she overruns the junk man. “I won’t take 7:50. It’s good solid furniture…”/ “10, then! Deal or not deal?”/ “Then I’m taking the lamp,” the haggler tells the junk man. The latter fires back, “Not on your life! That’s the only thing of value…” Two passions, merging in the ocean of advantage.

   Harry, not at all a haggler, carries his unorthodox parenthood to the somewhat roulette-wheel-looking mirror in the grocery store where Monika used to work. The amplitude of the glass carries him to a reverie of the motions of the seas, the motions of the sunlight and those fleeting depths he quickly left behind. The entropy that was Monika takes form in her using her nude body as a promissory note. Back to real time, there is the certitude that Harry will not fail to become a loving and solvent adult, a model citizen in deploying advantage.  But will he ever become the risk-taker whom he fleetingly aspired to? During their binge, Harry was seen to be wanting as a dance partner when the fun was to party. Monika, with patience and a measure of joy—“Never mind. You’re still the sweetest of them all!”–coaches him. The first session, seen from a semi-distance on a wooden dock extending far out to the water and into an overcast day, with the owner absent, presents Harry shuffling awkwardly—not fluent to kinetic life. During the second session, by a grassy expanse, he missteps, causing her to fall down. She laughs, her expertise unblemished but leaving him angry. From one perspective these foibles mean nothing. But disregarding one’s motions turns out to be the worst thing you can do. Bergman, here, on the verge of a monumental project, nails a virtually universal decadence, on which to erect an edifice of massive import. Unfortunately, his genius for wrong does not match his genius for right.