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sarangkstars · 2 years

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Short Kdramas/Drama Special/Web Drama

Part 3

These dramas happen when nothing I watch grabs me or when I'm too exhausted for long dramas and when I just need something where I could just relax and smile.

Part 1 / Part 2

BingGoo

Bing Goo is a fantasy drama about a man named Go Man Soo (Kim Jung Hyun) who lives in the 70s. His world revolves around the woman he loves Yoo Shin Young (Cha Joo Young), who is very ill. One fateful night, his body is frozen for 37 years. When he wakes up he's in the year 2016 and meets Ha Da (Han Sun Hwa) who will help him face reality.

Time travel is one of my favourite plots so I was excited when I found this drama. And I'm glad I found it because I loved it.

To. Jenny

To. Jenny is a music drama about a young man who expresses his unrequited first love for a girl through music and a young woman who chases after her dream despite a harsh situation.

This drama is so good. I loved Park Jung-min, who is adorable and so ordinary but turns into a completely different person when he shows his love for music. We'll be rooting for him till the end and craving for more.

I loved his younger sister who gave him dating advice and his supportive friends.

I also loved the songs in this little drama. They are definitely the highlight.

Unfortunately, the two hours of episodes are not enough for the closure I desired. I needed more episodes with these characters.

Breakup Probation, a Week

After breaking up with her boyfriend Seo Jae (Hyun Woo), Ga Ram (Kwon Yu Ri) has an accident and dies. A man tells her that her boyfriend tried to save her and is in a coma. He gives her a second chance to go back in time and stop Seo Jae but she only has a week to break up with him.

It's 10 half hour episodes of a fairly enjoyable but heartbreaking drama. The story is nice although a bit predictable. The pace is slow but shine through the multiple flashbacks.

The lead actors were very good and the chemistry is quite sweet. As always Hyun Woo looks like an adorable little puppy.

Kang Deoksun's Love Story

Drama Special KBS2 of 1 episode of 1h and 10 Min. It is set in the year 1926 and is about Deoksun (Kim So Hye) and her personal growth and new friendships.

I really enjoyed the story of the innocent little girl who learns to write and grow as a person. And I was glad that she chose the future she wanted.

Be Positive

Hwan Dong (D.O.) is a film major and has a project to hand in for his graduation but encounters quite a few difficulties and obstacles. He asks his ex-girlfriend Hye-jung (Chae Seo-Jin) to play the main role in his production.

As I'm a D.O. fan I probably enjoyed this little drama a lot more than it deserves. As it only has 6 episodes of about 10 minutes it's not very substantial but it's quite enjoyable and has quite a positive message for youth.

Soundtrack #1

Sun Woo (Park Hyung Sik) and Eun Soo (Ha So Hee) have been friends for 20 years and support each other. Sun Woo has been in love with her for 8 years but in order not to damage that friendship he never confesses his love, until the day they have to live together for a few days.

If you like friends to lovers stories you will love this short drama of 4 episodes of 45 minutes each. As soon as I heard that this drama was available I immediately went to check it out, mainly because I wanted more of Park Hyung Sik after having seen (and loved) him in the drama Happiness. And I must say that I was very satisfied with the drama and I even wish I had seen more episodes and could have gotten to know the characters better.

Eun Soo and Sun Woo together - it was hard for me to accept this relationship, firstly because I'm not a big fan of Han So Hee, secondly because after Happiness, the only girl I wanted to see with PHS was Han Hyo Joo. 😅 But overall, I came to appreciate the two of them together, especially during the scenes of them playing house.

Traces of Love

It's about Ju Yeong (Lee Yoo Young), a strong, independent woman who still has feelings for her ex-boyfriend Ji Sub (Lee Sang Yeob), who she broke up with three years ago. One day, Ji Sub shows up as the new hire in her office and she will have to see him every day.

This one-hour short drama is reminiscent of one of my favourite short dramas - You Drive me Crazy - with the same actress. The only cons is Ju Yeong's personality, who struck me as a bit self-centred and unreasonable. On the other hand, Lee Sang Yeob is always a treat to the eyes with his soothing charm.

Be My Boyfriend

It's about a quiet boy, Lee Seung-Min (Shin Hyun Seung) and the most popular girl in school, Oh Ji-na (Lee Si-woo) who start a fake relationship.

Another web drama of 15 episodes of 13 minutes each. It's a teen romance with a fairly predictable but enjoyable plot and a cute couple. I loved the fact that it's about a contract relationship and that's what made me want to go see this show.

Let Us Meet

Another Drama Special KBS2 of 1 episode of 1h and 10 Min. It is set in the year 1937 and is about Soo Ji (Jo Bo Ah), a countryside girl who goes to a marriage agency run by Joo Oh (Son Ho Jun) to marry a rich man. Review here

XX is a ten episode web drama, with each episode running for only twenty-five minutes. It's about a renowned bartender named Yoon Na Na (Hani) who is the head bartender of XX bar. Her initial goal was to save up and buy XX, but the owner suddenly sells it to Lee Roo Mi (Hwang Seung Eon), who was Na Na's best friend in college but betrayed her.

We have a friends to lovers romance, a best friend who is awesome and reconciliation with the past.

Honestly, I didn't care much for the romance between Na Na and Danny although I really enjoyed seeing Bae In-hyuk in that role and it was a sweet romance. The best part were really the rivalry between the two friends. Hani and Hwang Seung-eon have good chemistry together and it was a pleasure to see their dynamic because they both had strong personalities. I loved every moment of the story because it felt refreshing and intriguing all the way.

#bing goo #to. jenny #breakup probation a week #kang deoksun's love story #be positive #sountrack #traces of love #be my boyfriend #let us meet #xx kdrama #short kdramas #kbs drama special #web drama

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ladyluscinia · 6 months

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I'm trying to pull some thoughts together and I cannot emphasize enough how fast this season is happening in-universe. A lot of it probably has to do with MAX only letting them make 8 episodes instead of 10 - and the noticeable budget cuts they've suffered - but not really blaming the writers doesn't fix the pacing.

So as best as I can figure it...

The OFMD S2 Timeline

2x01 takes place after a pretty significant timeskip from 1x10, in which Edward has apparently raided at least 89 ships consecutively by the end of Kraken Era (based on Ned Low's record). At a ship a day (as shown in the brief flashbacks) we can estimate 3 months or more.

The two teams' timelines are still separate but presumably happening mostly concurrently - Stede & Co. end up with Zheng Yi Sao while Edward raids the wedding and ends on shooting Izzy.

2x02 is the next day - Frenchie's singular day as First Mate before Edward tries to kill them all and gets mutinied, and Stede & Co.'s first day on the Red Flag.

I think there's a timeskip before 2x03, albeit a short one, where the breakup boat crew is drifting. Edward only has a few days before he would actually die of dehydration - especially given how much booze he's been drinking - so it can't be more than that. The series of events in this episode is a few hours at most.

2x04 is the next day, from maybe midday to night.

2x05 might have another very short timeskip - we're talking like one day of discussion - because it goes from "I'll beg the crew to let you stay one night" to a scripted apology and fully agreed upon probation measures. It takes one day while Fang and Edward fish.

I want there to be a timeskip here before 2x06 - and the best method would probably be taking @danajsparks suggestion the proposal is a different day than the rest of 2x05 - but in canon they do seem to imply that it's the next day again despite Edward returning to his leathers, probation over. Frenchie establishes "Today is Calypso's Birthday" (meaning shopping and party are the same day) and then Lucius and Pete imply they've been missing (having engagement sex) for 24 hours that evening.

Also Ricky got his nose cut off like 7 - 10 days ago and he's already giving inspiring speeches to the Navy / being blackmailed by Zheng Yi Sao.

2x07 opens, again, the next day with them docking at the Republic of Pirates and, again, episode events last only one day.

There's no way in hell we've even hit the 2 week mark since the wedding massacre from 2x01. 😩

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #timeline #ofmd meta #ofmd 2x07 #ladyluscinia

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bakugotrashpanda · 2 years

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Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter 2: Life Goes On

Bakugou x Fem!Reader

◈ Pro Hero, Fake Engagement ◈ Word Count: 1433

◇ Chapter Select

◇ Previous Chapter

You’re suffering and it shows.

The following three weeks of your life are an absolute nightmare. The quality of sleep you get goes from fantastic to subpar. Sleeping on the couch to avoid the bedroom and the inevitable breakdown you’d have is the only logical choice to keep going.

And your suffering isn’t contained to your apartment. Your way to work is lined with advertisements and billboards of Midoriya. No matter where you go, you can’t avoid seeing him.

It doesn’t help that you don’t have anything to fill your time with. Staying home binge watching shows and crying into your meals only lasted a day or so. Typing, deleting, and retyping social media posts could only get you so far. And sitting in the darkness letting the soul crushing reality that you are in fact alone is your least favorite of the ways you spent your evenings. As a result, your work performance began to suffer.

It’s just a normal day of typing up your interrogation notes and staring off into space when an email pops up at your computer from your boss marked ‘urgent’. Your blood pressure and anxiety skyrocket.

Rubbing your hands on your pants, you knock on your boss’ door. She looks up from her keyboard and waves you in

“You wanted to see me?” you ask.

“Close the door.”

Never a good way to start a meeting. Sitting in the leather chair across from her, your boss takes off her glasses and rubs her temple.

She pulls out a stack of files. Complaints. “We need to talk about your performance.”

“What, are you going to fire me?” The sarcastic jab leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

Snapping her glasses back into place, she opens the top folder and glances at the report. “No, but you’ll be pulled from active duty if you don’t get your shit together. Showing up late, being abnormally callous during interrogations-”

You can’t hold back a snort. “Oh, so now you don’t like the way I talk to people?” Your job is to grill people – get information needed by any means necessary. “Should I just not speak ever again?”

“Insubordination.” Your boss sighs and takes off her glasses. A flash of irritation makes you want to reach over her desk and snap the glasses in half… Maybe she does have a point. She pinches the bridge of her nose, her brows scrunched together. “I get going through a breakup. I really do. But you need to leave the baggage at the door.”

There’s a pause as her words sink in. They simmer inside you, a low burning heat in your chest that slowly bubbles into anger. She gets going through a breakup?

Does she get being surrounded by nothing and yet everything at the same time? Does she get only being able to use half of what used to be a home? Does she understand that you have absolutely nothing going for you?

So yeah, you’re a little rough around the edges right now. And your fuse is a little short. And you probably should talk to someone about it, but you’re not going to. Not right now.

A breath you didn’t know you’re holding hisses out your nose. Message received; don’t be a dick at work.

“If that’s all,” you stand abruptly and wait for her to nod like she usually does to let you leave.

Except she doesn’t. “I’m recommending taking a week off. A soft reset may be just what you need.”

Icy dread shoots through your veins and extinguishes your anger. “Don’t,” you say softly. Your boss raises an eyebrow. Your knees weaken and you sink back into the chair. “Don’t make me take a week off. All I’m surrounded by in my apartment are memories I want to forget. Don’t make me spend a week by myself in that hellhole.” What the hell would you do with a week of probation?

Hard amber eyes soften slightly. Her head softly tilts side to side as if weighing the pros and cons of keeping you around. Sweat prickles your back the whole time. “One more day,” she decides. “I better not have a single complaint cross my desk, is that clear.”

“Crystal,” you murmur and stand. Your boss nods once and returns to her paperwork, the stack of complaints disappearing somewhere into the abyss of her desk again.

Christ. You didn’t think the break up was affecting you that much. Plastering on a smile, you sarcastically tell yourself to ‘think positive’ and head back onto the floor.

Back at your cubicle you look at your schedule. One more interrogation and then you could in theory clock off early. It should be easy, just another robbery where one of the guys got caught. He’s not spilling where the rest of his team is or where they stored the cash.

That’s where you come in – sweet talking your way into whatever information you want. If you lay your quirk on thick, you could have him wrapped around your little finger spouting off his personal banking details in a matter of minutes. And you’ll do everything by the book.

But, you might as well see what you’re working with before marching straight into the interrogation room. You head to the back room and see a coworker standing in the dark. The two-way mirror shows the criminal with a quirk inhibiting bracelet slapped on his wrist.

“I take it he’s not speaking?” you murmur.

“No.” Your coworker hides a smile by taking a sip of water. “But I know you’ll get the truth from him, Verity.” You watch the man fidget at the table and tug at the cuff – as if that would take it off or stop the terrifying feeling of having your quirk taken away from you.

Gotcha right where I want you.

“I’ll get you a location,” you say confidently and leave. This’ll be a piece of cake.

“You always do.”

And you did. It took you a minute of talking to loosen the guy up before he responded, but once he did, he was yours. You charmed the information right out of him without over doing your quirk and made sure there would be nothing but glowing reports all around. Probation would be a nonissue for you.

A cold evening breeze kisses your cheeks as you leave the office. Averting your gaze from the giant screen advertising a new underwear brand with your ex as the model, you let your feet take you to your new favorite watering hole on autopilot.

The bar is a little hole in the wall favored by up-and-coming heroes and sidekicks. It’s less about schmoozing and elbow rubbing, and more about unwinding from the day with a cold one with friends. Plus the cook makes some of the best food for cheap. The few tables in the place aren’t filled yet, but give it an hour or so and you would find four or five people all squeezing together to fit at each.

You take your place at the bar – your new ‘usual’ spot and find a beer sliding your way.

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this,” you smile wryly at the bartender and take a sip from the bottle.

“How strong are you talking?” the bartender asks.

“Dealer’s choice,” you hum. Ten seconds later a shot glass filled with clear liquid is plopped in front of you.

“Bottoms up,” you salute before downing the shot. The beer you chase it with tastes like water in comparison. You nearly choke on it though when your eyes glance over at the TV in the corner.

“Too strong for ya?” the bartender asks, but you ignore him. The ticker tape headline sears your brain.

“Pro-Hero Deku and Uravity announce their relationship on social media.” Your drink turns to sludge in your mouth. Pro-Hero Deku fucking what? The alcohol burns in your mouth and the whole way down. Your stomach churns – from the news or the drink, you’re unsure.

Deku and Uravity. Two friends from highschool who decided to take their friendship to the next level. Lovers reunited at long last.

There’s no mention of you or the fact that Midoriya got out of a relationship almost a month ago down to the day in the report. All you can see are candid pictures of the two of them in public, looking all cute and shit. It makes you want to vomit. Or throw your bottle. Or both.

“Well if he’s fucking dating her, then I’m engaged to Dynamight,” you mutter to yourself. “Can I get a few more shots down here?”

Truth: You can’t escape your ex.

Truth: It hurts to know he moved on so quickly.

Lie: You can recall everything that happened at the bar.

◇ Next Chapter

Tag List: @thatfanfictionwriter, @loving-katsuki, @dienamights, @katditca, @boosyboo9206, @alex-sulli, @hypernovaxx, @daddyissxes, @ti-mame, @thekaylahub, @ms0milk, @nerd-nowandforever, @minninugget, @tiny-wooden-robot, @icedemon1314, @xviternity, @naiomiwinchester, @sincerelyyrosemary, @abnormalanimeweeb, @satogg, @liberace2 , @acid-rain27, @itgetzweird08 , @chaoticorganizedmess , @neurovascular-entrapta , @kiwiified , @bnha-free-writing , @fishbolw , @xxkay15xx , @zombiewarprincess , @izuwumidoriya , @blue-enigma , @mommy-without-milkers , @plaggi , @budibbly , @hiqhkey

#bakugou #bakugou x reader #two truths and a lie #writing #mine

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brn1029 · 1 year

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On this date in music history….

November 29th

2009 - Susan Boyle

Susan Boyle's album became the best-selling debut in UK chart history when it went to No.1 on the UK chart. The 48 year-old runner-up in ITV's Britain's Got Talent, sold 410,000 copies of ‘I Dreamed a Dream’. Boyle also topped the US charts, setting a first-week sales record for a female debut album with 701,000 copies sold in its first week.

2007 - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Former Lynyrd Skynyrd drummer Artimus Pyle, a convicted sex offender, was arrested for failing to properly register a new permanent address. The 59-year-old had pleaded guilty in 1993 to charges of attempted capital sexual battery by an adult on a victim younger than 12 and being principal to lewd and lascivious behavior on a child younger than 16. He was sentenced to eight years of probation.

2002 - Paul McCartney

Three paintings by Sir Paul McCartney were bought for just £35 each at the Secrets Postcard Sale at London's Royal College of Art. Members of the public gambled on whether they were buying works by celebrity artists at a fraction of their value, as a picture's creator was only made known after it has sold.

2001 - George Harrison

Beatles guitarist George Harrison died in Los Angeles of lung cancer aged 58. Following the breakup of The Beatles Harrison had a successful career as a solo artist and later as part of the Traveling Wilburys. The youngest member of The Beatles, (aged 16 when he joined), his compositions include ‘Taxman’, ‘Here Comes the Sun’, ‘Something’, and ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’. Harrison released the acclaimed triple album, All Things Must Pass, in 1970, from which came the worldwide No.1 single 'My Sweet Lord.'

1997 - Lou Reed

'Perfect Day' performed by various artists including Elton John, Bono, Tom Jones & David Bowie went to No.1 on the UK singles chart. Originally written and recorded in 1973 by Lou Reed, this new collaboration of 29 major artists was a fund raiser for the BBC Children In Need charity.

1980 - Abba

ABBA scored their ninth and last UK No.1 single with 'Super Trouper', the group's 25th Top 40 hit in the UK. The name "Super Trouper" referred to the gigantic spotlights used in stadium concerts.

1969 - The Beatles

The Beatles went to No.1 on the US singles chart with their twenty-sixth release in the United States.'Come Together / Something', which became the group's 18th US No.1. Lennon was inspired by Timothy Leary's campaign for governor of California titled "Come together, join the party" against Ronald Reagan giving him the idea for the track. ’Something’ was the first Beatles song written by George Harrison to appear as an A-side.

1965 - The Rolling Stones

Colorado Governor John A. Love declared a Rolling Stones day throughout the State as The Stones appeared at The Denver Coliseum in Colorado during a North American tour.

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kdramatizerdotcom · 3 years

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Drana Korea Breakup Probation, A Week Subtitle Indonesia

Sinopsis Drama Korea Breakup Probation, A Week (2021) Ga Ram dan Seon Jae yang akan segera menikah, tiba-tiba mengalami kecelakaan mobil. Kecelakaan itu membuat Seon Jae koma, dan Ga Ram kehilangan nyawanya. Setelah meninggalkan dunia ini, Ga Ram mendapati dirinya berada di tempat yang tidak diketahui dimana dia menerima tawaran aneh dari seorang pria bernama X. “Aku akan memberimu waktu…

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#A Week Before Farewell #A Week Delay of Farewell #Break-up Suspension #Breakup Probation A Week Drakorindo #Breakup Probation A Week Kordramas #Breakup Probation A Week Kwon Yuri #Breakup Probation A Week Narashika #Breakup Probation A Week Nodrakor #Breakup Probation A Week Sub Indo #Breakup Probation A Week Subscene #Download Breakup Probation A Week #Ibyeolyue #Ibyeolyue Iljuil #Iljuil #Nonton Breakup Probation A Week #One Week #Parting Grace

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harrydracobang · 3 years

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Harry/Draco Big Bang Week #1 Round-Up

Below you'll find a round-up of all of our amazing submissions that have posted during our first week of @harrydracobang!

We hope you’ve been enjoying all the novel-length Drarry and amazing art so far, and we want to thank everybody who has been following the fest and supporting our participants with comments, kudos and recs! You are amazing and we know for certain our fantastic artists and writers appreciate all your support! <3

The next fic will go up tomorrow, and we still have one more week of amazing fic and art, but for now, check our first week below to make sure you didn’t miss anything. Don’t forget to leave some love for our participants as you make your way through the submissions!

Make Yourself written by @anyaelizabethfic with art by @zigster-ao3 [Explicit, 103k] Summary : Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can't help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof. -Zigster's Tumblr Art Post 1 -Zigster’s Tumblr Art Post 2

sweeten to taste written by @bigblackdogfic with art by @babooshkart [Explicit, 51k] Summary: It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more. -Babooshkart’s Tumblr Art Post

Graceless Heart written by @orange-peony with art by @chuckalart and @secretartlair [Explicit, 132k] Summary: Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry.

When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook.

Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

See How They Run written by @harryromper with art by @inveigler81 [Mature, 51k] Summary: Harry’s living above the shop in Knockturn Alley, working as a private detective after a failed stint as an Auror, when he gets an invitation from Luna Lovegood to the last place he could have imagined: Malfoy Manor.

As Luna and Draco’s friends gather for the weekend, it isn’t only memories of wartime violence that surface. It seems that a lot of the guests have things they want to hide, including murder.

It falls to Harry to solve the mystery, and while he’s at it, to untangle his feelings for Draco Malfoy once and for all. -Inveigler81′s Tumblr Art Post 1 -Inveigler81′s Tumblr Art Post 2

Brave Though The Stars They Make Me written by @dwell-the-brave with art by @puncertainty [Mature, 108k] Summary: After the events at the end of his Sixth Year, Draco Malfoy has been kept all but prisoner in his childhood home, Malfoy Manor. Alone, terrified, and desperate for some way out, he begins to have strange dreams - dreams of Harry Potter. Are they a trick of his mind? Or are they a way to change his fate, and a chance at redemption? -Puncertainty's AO3 Art Post -Puncertainty's Tumblr Art Post

Nor All That Glisters written by @sweet-s0rr0w with art by @deancebra-art and @fantalf [Explicit, 110k] Summary: Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking… -Fantalf’s Tumblr Art Post

spins madly on written by asofthaven with art by @iaooa and Monotremata [Teen, 56k] Summary: As part of his probation, Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T.s. Gobstones, the political machinations of the Hogwarts student body, and one Harry James Potter captures Draco’s attention instead. -Iaooa’s Tumblr Art Post

Chasing Shadows written by @manixzen with art by @avaeryn [Explicit, 93k] Summary: The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.

A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers.

Home Truths written by @skeptiquewrites with art by @fantalf [Explicit, 67k] Summary: In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

On professional Quidditch, magical houses, hard choices, Life Debts, and inconvenient truths. -Fantalf’s Tumblr Art Post

The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets written by @iero0 & @ladderofyears with art by @egggnoodles and @faevorite-main-blog [Explicit, 287k] Summary: Hogwarts is the very last place that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy want to return to after the war. The Castle feels claustrophobic and stifling. Both feel trapped within its walls.

Harry is traumatised by the war, by his sudden breakup from Ginny, and by the knowledge that his friends all know what they want to do with their life.

Meanwhile Draco is reeling. He has narrowly escaped an Azkaban prison sentence and is struggling under the strict rules of his probation. He doesn't know where his mother is, and finds himself a pariah among the other students.

The last thing that either student wants is mandatory Mind Healing. What has happened to them feels so big and devastating, that writing to a stranger feels farcical.

Even so, they are not given a choice.

Harry and Draco are both given a shared magical diary, and soon they begin writing letters to an anonymous fellow student.

Their letters, terse at first, grow longer as the days pass. Before long, each wizard confesses their secrets and their fantasies, their wishes and their dreams.

What will happen when their true identities are exposed? Will their vulnerable new relationship be destroyed before it has even begun? -Egggnoodles Tumblr Art Post

A Sense of Scale written by @fantalf with art by @dragontamerdame [Mature, 71k] Summary: Potter merely shrugged, as if it was nothing. After all, it wasn’t his life’s work. “You can try to win it over.” Draco snapped, “What?!” “The school. Win it over.” “How the fuck do I win a school over, Potter?! It’s a bloody school, not a person!” And he didn’t win people over that easily, overall. “I don’t know. Use your charms. I know you to be very inventive.” —— In which Draco spends an obscene amount of time thinking of new nicknames for The Living Git, lying to himself and using his charms to seduce an extremely uncooperative sentient school.

Independent Art: Homage by @cambiodipolvere [General] Summary: A space between dangling feet, less than a foot.

#drarry #drarry fests #drarry fest #draco x harry #harry x draco #drarry fic #drarry art #harrydracobang #2021 fest #weekly roundup #mod post

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lisbonsteresa · 3 years

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We Keep This Love (In a Photograph) (Nancy x Ace)

The first time he finds the photo is the day after the food festival.

He arrives at the Claw late, rushing to shove his jacket into his locker and get to the kitchen before George notices his absence, when something crinkles unexpectedly in the pocket. Reaching in, he pulls out the polaroid - a bit wrinkled, the right corner completely folded over - but still in one piece even after the events of the day before. He stares at it for a moment, crouching in front of his open locker, trying to recall when he had acted on the impulse to grab it off the coffee table in their rush to leave, and before he can stop to realize what he’s doing he’s studying the picture’s subject instead. Hair falling into her eyes, dirt from the tunnels still smeared across her face, her features set in an expression of determined focus as she dug into the box of files Carson had procured for her, still looking so perfectly…Nancy. A small grin crosses his face as he remembers her amused reaction to the flash of the camera turning into a sincere smile as Carson told her how proud of her he was - Because of her testimony. The grin drops off his face as the memories of the rest of the day rush back into sharp focus. The sense of uselessness he’d felt as he’d dangled from that railing and watched his life be traded for the lives of countless others; the terrifying amount of finality he’d heard in her ‘I couldn’t lose you.’; the way there was no doubt in his mind about what “favor” Celia had asked for in return - a favor that for all he knows Nancy could be fulfilling right this moment.

As if summoned by his own despondent thoughts, the door to the storeroom suddenly bursts open and Nancy rushes in, her coat hanging off of one arm as she fastens her hair into a hurried bun. Her mad dash stops short upon seeing him, and as their eyes meet he’s suddenly overwhelmed by all the things he wants to say to her; all the things he held back the day before while Grant was around. The questions of ‘How could you -’ and ‘Why would you -’ and the arguments starting with ‘This will ruin your -’ and ‘I’m not worth -’ cycle around each other in his mind, and he can tell that something’s about to slip out his mouth but he can’t make the connection between them to know what it’ll be - And then suddenly he doesn’t have to. George’s annoyed voice rings out from the kitchen, and he’s never heard the phrase ‘saved by the boss’ before, but after this he might consider adopting it. He quickly crumples the photo into a ball and tosses it into his locker, following it with his jacket as if burying the image would help him bury the feelings it brought up. He gives Nancy a curt nod, avoiding whatever he might have seen in her eyes as he turns and heads towards the stairs, knowing there was a difference between delaying something and running away from it, but not quite sure which side this was falling on.

——————————————————————

It’s several months before he sees it again. Long enough for Everett Hudson’s first case to be declared a mistrial due to jury tampering, and for the time between it and his retrial to be just enough to allow Nick and Ryan to find a smoking gun hidden in Tiffany’s files that put the Hudson patriarch away for his full sentence (officially, at least). Long enough for Amanda to turn to him on her doorstep two weeks after the trial and tell him that she and Gil were leaving - finally following up on his lead in Santa Fe. There were kisses goodbye and offers to help in any way he could, but they both agreed it would be better for her to focus on finding her mother, and at this point it’s been long enough that he’s starting to feel like he’s doing okay after the breakup. He’s starting to feel like everything’s back to…whatever passes for normal in Horseshoe Bay. At least, he is until Nancy announces - midway through George’s mandated After Hours End-of-Summer-Cleaning Locker Inspection, no less - that she’s gotten into Columbia.

His hand had just closed around a crumpled ball of paper in the back of his locker when the words leave her mouth, and the ball stays in his hand even as he joins in on the group hug an ecstatic Bess initiates; as he tells Nancy how happy he is for her; as he reassures George that he’ll close up so she can ride with Nick to the celebration he’s sure Carson has planned for Nancy back at their place.

It isn’t until he’s left alone in the storeroom and he drops down onto the bench in front of his locker that he notices how tightly he’s been gripping the paper. Or the…not paper, he corrects himself as he notices the different texture of whatever he was holding. A sneaking suspicion comes from the back of his mind as he starts to smooth out the ball, and once the image is revealed in full - slightly faded with the right corner ripping off altogether after he pulls a bit too hard - he has to fight the urge to crumple the photo again and toss it into the trash.

Which is a weird impulse, isn’t it? Because he was happy for her, of course he was. This was Nancy’s dream school, after all, and after the year that she’s had, doesn’t she deserve to do what makes her happy? To move on with her - His thoughts stutter to a stop. He shakes his head and tries again. After all, hasn’t he - haven’t they all - known this was coming, sooner or later? Hasn’t he known from the start that Nancy was meant for bigger and better things? That she wasn’t going to hang around forever, not in this nowhere small town, with her ragtag group of friends and the dishwasher who’s been at a standstill since high school -

He’s being unfair, he knows. Because Nancy doesn’t see it, any of it, like that. He knows how much Nancy cares; about Horseshoe Bay, about her friends…about him. She’d told him as much during the countless knock-down-drag-out arguments they’d had after the incident at the paper mill, hadn’t she? But he can feel annoyance - or maybe even anger - rising up inside him, and if he doesn’t deflect it towards her, then he’ll have to confront himself, and he’s been avoiding that confrontation for months now. He’d have to actually think about why he’s been keeping Nancy at arm’s length even after they’d both said their piece during those arguments. Why he’d been so insistent that they’d ‘gotten back to normal’ when he honestly wasn’t sure he had any idea of what ‘normal’ was for them. It certainly wasn’t the way she’d avoided his eyes when he’d congratulated her, but he wasn’t sure it was the way she had held onto his hand long after everyone else had left their hug either. He’d have to actually think about how he’d wasted so much time pretending there wasn’t still something to fix between them, and how he didn’t know what to feel now that he’s realized they’ve run out of time anyway.

When Amanda had left, it had felt like they were mutually closing a door - calm and maybe a little sad, but with both of them smiling and understanding on their respective sides. Knowing that Nancy was leaving felt like having to struggle with a door against hurricane-level winds, without a clue of what side he wanted to be on once he finally got it closed. But maybe that’s not a fair comparison to make, he rationalizes. After all, he and Amanda were together. He and Nancy have just been… He looks back down at the polaroid, his thumb running along the torn edge as he considers just what exactly he and Nancy have been, before dragging a hand through his hair with a sigh. Too late to figure it out now, anyway.

He leans forward and slips the photo between the pages of a library book already overdue by a year at the bottom of his locker. So he’ll have something to remember her by, he tells himself, unsure if the unpleasant feeling that settles in his gut as he slams the locker shut is bitterness or just plain sadness.

——————————————————————

Life goes on in Horseshoe Bay, even without Nancy Drew. It’s not until late fall when he sees the photo again. He’s helping George and Nick with the Claw’s first official Allhallowtide event, spending his day helping kids decorate their lanterns whenever he’s not hyping Bess up over text for her ‘very preliminary, very probational, very terrifying!!!!!’ (her exclamation points, not his) first in-person meeting with Aunt Diana since she’d started slowly rebuilding their relationship.

He’s sitting on the steps leading into the storeroom after one of their longer text exchanges, laughing when George calls out for him to make himself useful and find more markers, but he rises to follow her instructions anyway. It takes him all of 5 minutes to realize that they are completely marker-free, digging through every drawer and pencil holder in the room and coming up with nothing, before he remembers the pack of Crayolas he’s pretty sure survived his last locker clean-out.

He unloads his jacket, a few books, and the jumbo pack of earplugs he’s been drawing from ever since that siren incident three weeks ago onto the bench to make it easier to find the markers, but the earplugs overbalance the books and everything comes toppling down before he can even look through what’s left in the locker.

With a sigh, he leans over and picks up the old library book that fell face-down, watching curiously as a square of paper drops out from between the pages and back down onto the floor. A catalogue card, he wonders, or maybe a note someone stashed and forgot about? But as he picks it up and sees the torn right corner, he realizes that not only is it not regular paper, but that he knows exactly what he’s going to see before he flips the item over.

A shock runs through him all the same once he does, seeing Nancy’s face for the first time in months. He doesn’t have more than a moment to think about that though, as his phone erupts with seven text tones in rapid succession at the same time George’s shouts for him to hurry up reach the storeroom. After a tiny moment of hesitation, he slides the polaroid into his back pocket and shoves everything else back into the locker before making his way back to the dining room, marker-less and contrite.

That was a mistake. He spends the rest of the day hyperaware of what he’s holding onto, patting his pocket for reassurance it hasn’t slipped out so many times that one of Ted’s friends asks him - with all the seriousness a 9-year old can muster - if he is also suffering from the ‘wedgie-saurus’.

It isn’t until that night, after he insists that he’ll close up the Claw so Nick and George can stay with her sisters at the lantern-lighting event, that he has a moment alone to actually look at the picture. He straddles the storeroom bench, placing it down in front of him and resting his elbows on his knees so he can lean in close as a sudden wave of guilt hits him. He remembers the way their text conversations had petered out after long stretches of one-word or emoji-only replies; the way her calls had slowly become less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. He still gets weird looks from the others when he makes excuses to avoid their video calls with her; can still hear Bess’s overly-sympathetic voice after she’d spent a long weekend in New York telling him that everything was fine, that Nancy just misses him.

He misses her too; of course he does. Some days he misses her so much the ache of it catches him by surprise. Like when he'd realized his habit of watching the door for the first ten minutes of every shift, still expecting her to rush through it with her name tag missing and an excuse at the ready. When he made a Big Lebowski reference at dinner one night and got nothing other than a confused smile from his mother in response. When he was researching something at the end of the bar and felt a phantom presence at his shoulder, like she was just outside his peripheral, leaning up against him and waiting impatiently for him to turn towards her and give her the answer she was looking for.

It didn’t seem possible for someone he’d known for barely a year to have become such a big part of every aspect of his life, but everywhere he’s turned for months there seems to be another reminder of Nancy Drew.

And that just makes everything worse. Because he hadn’t been able to give her the answers she might have needed before she left. And now, now that he’s had the time to figure those answers out, now that they kept him up at night, running endlessly through his head while he stares dejectedly at the ceiling, he doesn’t know if they’re still the same answers she was looking for now. And he’s terrified by the thought that they might not be. He’s gotten himself caught in a mystery he doesn’t know how to solve on his own.

But maybe… His thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the clock hanging above the back door, and he starts when he realizes nearly an hour has passed since he first sat down. Glancing at the photo again, he waits for the urge to tuck it back between the pages of that book; to push his feelings down and avoid having to confront them, but it doesn’t come.

Something else clicks into place with the last chime of the clock, and holding the polaroid in one hand, he unlocks his phone with the other, ignoring Bess’s 5 recap and 2 goodnight texts for the moment while he taps the contact info for the only other person he’s sure will be awake at midnight on a Tuesday.

She picks up on the first ring. “Ace?”

Her voice sounds tired, maybe even a little worried, but so deeply familiar his heart jumps into his throat just at the sound of her saying his name. “Hey, Nancy.” he begins, unable to hold back a small smile as he looks down at her picture. “Can we talk?”

Maybe he doesn’t have to solve this one alone.

Maybe neither of them do.

——————————————————————

Nancy’s bright hair makes her easy to spot, even from his position across the train platform. He watches as she peers through the crowd, noticing him with a grin and a tiny wave, before he pushes off from the wall and starts to make his way over to meet her.

He’d practically had to fight Ryan to be the one picking her up, he imagines telling her as she laughs. The man had been ready to push him down in the driveway until Carson had stepped in to - heavily, mind you - imply that maybe Nancy and Ace could use a little ‘alone time’.

That part he might keep to himself, actually. It was bad enough that Carson acted like he was in on some big secret every time he got off the phone with his daughter; he didn’t need her wondering why both her father figures were trading smug smiles every time the four of them were in a room together.

He realizes too late that he’d gotten caught up in his thoughts and that Nancy was suddenly standing less than a foot away from him. “Hi.” he murmurs, the memory of their last - somewhat awkward - reunion tugging at the back of his mind. (He almost wished his arm was still in a sling. Then at least he’d only have to worry about what to do with one of his hands).

“Hi.” she replies in the same tone, her own hands twisting nervously in the strap of her bag, but a beaming smile on her face. It was the same smile he’d seen during their almost daily video calls for the past month and a half, but he hadn’t thought to prepare for the way it makes his heart flip to see it directed at him, live and in person.

“H-how’s Columbia?” he manages to only stumble over the first word, but it doesn’t really seem to matter because suddenly Nancy’s dropped her luggage and launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him while his arms instinctively wrap around her, pulling her closer still as he breathes in the fact that this is really happening, that it’s not a dream he’s going to wake up from to find the calendar mockingly reminding him there was another three days until her holiday break started.

He’s not sure how long they stay there, wrapped up in each other while the rest of the world moves around them, but when they finally pull away he knows his smile is as bright as hers. There’s a lot they still have to share - he hasn’t told her about his first day interning with John Sander yet, and she has a copy of the Daily Spectator with her first front page article stowed safely in her bag - and a lot - the distance, their schedules, missing each other - that they still have to figure out. But as he holds out his hand and Nancy takes it in hers, intertwining their fingers as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Ace can’t find it in himself to worry.

Whatever happens, they’ll figure out a way to solve it. Together.

——————————————————————

(She finds the photo less than a week later; sees it hanging on the inside of his locker when she stops by the Claw to help them decorate for the holidays. Bess is beside herself at somehow being one of the last to know, but Ace can’t really focus on anything other than the look in Nancy’s eyes as she pulls him in for a kiss.)

#ndff #nancy drew cw #if i told you how long this took me to actually get down.....babes you would LAUGH at me alkdsjf #anyway it's been just under 2 weeks off and i've already 1. reached the 'no plot just vibes' stage of my writing and #2. completely lost track of tense; i'm sorry #(also sorry for the title but it's like 5am here so actually no i'm not)#otp: knock 'em dead #longpost

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nellie-elizabeth · 2 years

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Grey's Anatomy: Put It to the Test (18x15)

Wow, the stuff with Schmitt was stressful as hell! This was an intense episode.

Cons:

I liked the intensity of the performances during Meredith and Bailey's big fight, but I felt like it wasn't totally justified on the merits of the situation. Bailey went from zero to one hundred in being angry with Meredith for... checks notes... getting a job offer. She doesn't even ask her if she's taking it before she starts screaming at her and throwing Derek in her face, it's just awful and doesn't feel like it was built up enough.

Nick, as I've said a thousand times, is pretty boring. It's not that there's anything wrong with his transplant plot thread here, or how he's trying to grapple with the despair he feels in career. It's all perfectly unobjectionable. It's just not interesting. I'm glad his cool new medical procedure works, I guess, but I'm not interested in seeing how he responds to any of it.

I wish Nico could have been in this episode. I loved the focus on Schmitt and Webber's relationship, but I wish someone had at least told him about what was going on with Schmitt and his mother. I hope we get some of the fallout, some reckoning between them soon. Their breakup was so unceremonious, and so clearly a part of Levi's spiral, that it needs more focus soon!

Atticus being a little baby about Amelia and Kai pisses me off. Grow up, dude.

Pros:

So, like I said, the performances in that yelling scene... Bailey yelling at Meredith, Meredith standing her ground, defending Nick... man, that was some great stuff. There was so much going into that conversation. Bailey's stress about the residency program, her career, all of that, her relationship with Meredith, all their history. I thought Meredith made a good and interesting point about how the legacy of her past will always follow her around if she stays at Grey Sloan. I don't want Meredith to leave, but I kind of don't blame her? Which is not something I was expecting to feel, so kudos to this episode for making that work.

The stuff with Schmitt was... holy shit... this guy is a good actor. The sheer terror during the whole situation with his mom and her fall down the stairs, the way he calls for help, calls Richard, does everything right and then breaks down at the hospital, Richard holding him... I was really feeling for him the whole way through. I love Richard, but when you see the consequences of the Webber Method in such a stark and specific way, it's hard not to think that people might be right in saying that he messed up majorly.

I liked Hamilton and Kai giving Richard his assessment. It was reassuring and interesting to see him doing so well, I worried he was going to bomb and have to retire again, and I feel like we've done so many stories around "is this the end of Richard's career?" that I wasn't interested in dragging this one out any further. Instead, he does really well. I like how Kai and Hamilton are firm but fair, and how Kai has to wrestle with some conflicting feelings, since Richard means a lot to Amelia. But it's not a big fight or anything, just a stressful day that resolves peacefully for all involved.

Then there's the residency program... they did kind of a trick ending with this plot thread. We see the assessors going around the hospital asking tough questions about the program, and at first it seems it's going really poorly, what with their witnessing of Schmitt's breakdown, and Richard being MIA for the interviewing at first, and Meredith flaking out on being there for the program. At every turn, Bailey is confronted with the weaknesses of her teaching hospital. It's no wonder she works herself up into a panic attack. But then, at the moment of reckoning, Bailey is told that the residents seem happy and fulfilled, that this is one of the better, healthier residency programs they've ever examined. But they can't ignore the complaints, and the poor retention, and what they're seeing on paper, so... the program is on probation, with only a couple of weeks to turn things around, or they'll get shut down!

This is some good drama. I think I've mentioned this before, but I like when instead of literally putting all the characters in life and death situations, you have stories that have more thematic/administrative consequences. It feels a little more grounded, and the stakes are different in an interesting way. I hope they can save the residency program! I hope Schmitt is okay, whether he chooses to come back or not!

As always, I'm sure I missed out on plenty of detail, but I'll leave things there for now. Things are getting dramatic up in here... we've got a couple weeks off before the next episode. See you then!

8/10

#review #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy review #greys anatomy #greys anatomy review #grey's abc #greys abc

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worldboywhump · 3 years

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Breakup Probation, A Week Ep- 2&3

#asian whump #korean drama #male whumpee #kdrama whump #fainting #kwhump #whump #kdrama

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sheilajsn · 2 years

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Breakup Probation, A Week - Un sacrificio por amor

Breakup Probation, A Week – Un sacrificio por amor

Breakup Probation, A Week (2021), A Week Delay of Farewell o A Week’s Grace, es un mini drama de diez episodios de treinta minutos cada uno. (more…)

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#2021 #24/7 #Breakup Probation A Week #Girls Generation #Hyun Woo #Kwon Yu Ri #SBS #Yoon Ji On

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cadetcama · 3 years

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hi, i love your hsmtmts headcanons! if it's not too much trouble could you write some about ricky and gina addressing all the stuff that led to them avoiding eachother, and getting their old friendship back? think all the rinas need it after the finale :)

"If it's not too much trouble" - friend, I LIVE for asks like these. It may take me a minute, but it's just because I'm THINKING!

Timing-wise, we'll say this happens a few days/maybe a week after EHS drops out of the Menkies

Post-breakup and having started therapy, Ricky's looking back on the last year and realizing how much he messed up in places

He also realizes... he misses Gina

Now that he's not distracted by the musical, or his relationship with Nini, he has a lot more time to THINK and missing Gina is primarily what he realizes

So he and his therapist devise a plan

Ricky shows up at the Caswell/Porter house with some nice yarn, some truly terrible cupcakes, and an apology

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I handled things the way that I did. I'm sorry for asking for your advice all the time - especially at Carlos's birthday"

The primary point of the apology is "I miss being your friend"

Because Ricky knows he fucked up and doesn't want to mess things up more than he already has

"I miss being your friend. How we always understood each other. I even miss you making fun of me"

But at the end of day, it's for Gina to decide what happens next. So the apology ends with"

"I'm ready when you're ready. If that never comes, I understand."

Gina listens to all of this with a stony face, but does accept the cupcakes and the yarn, and says "thank you for the apology. I'll think about it" (because she's not RUDE, okay?)

Which Ricky takes as a victory because he wasn't even expecting her to come to the door

But she did, and she said she'd think about it so Ricky's like !!!

Cause she needs to process her emotions

So over the next few days, Gina processes and talks to Ashlyn about it A LOT

And Ricky leaves her be! He gets that it won't be an instant thing.

Gina's also got whatever she's got going on with EJ and Ricky doesn't want to get involved with that.

He's not trying to step on her relationship or make things harder for her; he just misses her

And she misses him too, but she's also proud

And scared of being hurt again

But people deserve second chances right?

Ashlyn has to remind her that if she wants to be friends with Ricky again, she's going to have to RESPOND to his peace offering

Because at this point its been like 4 days of silence and awkward passing each other in the halls

Gina's like "how?? make him another hat??"

Ashlyn's like "or... you could see if he wants to hang out?"

So Gina does

She tells Ricky he's on "friend-probation" because its not like they can just jump to how things were before Thanksgiving

Ricky would take his probationary status very seriously

He plans hang outs, with the group and just with each other and also a couple of one-on-one hangouts that are just to hash out the past and move forward

Gina sets very clear boundaries and expectations because she's still scared and he's still on thin ice

(He gets on thicker ice really quickly but she cant let him know that)

#cama rants #rina back to basics #bc im hoping i get more asks about this

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petri808 · 5 years

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Izuku dated Shoto and they broke up on bad terms and he didn't date anyone for a year or two and then he met Katsuki and he fell in love with him and wanted to date him and he asked him out and they got together and he wanted to make peace with Shoto so he went and talked things out with him and told him about katsuki and then he left but Shoto isn't able to move on and now he is sad that he let izuku go

A Painful Reunion

It had been a year since Izuku Midoriya had broken up with his boyfriend Shouto Todoroki and he really didn’t think he’d be able to keep going this way. The breakup had been painful for both of them, ending with such a massive fight over such a stupid little thing. He could throw himself into his work all he wanted to avoid the sadness, but at the end of the day he returned to an empty apartment.

“You need to get out again, Midoriya,” his co-worker Tenya Iida counsels the stricken man. “How about the new guy, I saw you looking at him the other day; interested?”

Quickly, Izuku’s ear start to burn. Yes, he had in fact noticed their newest partner at the firm. A man named Katsuki Bakugou had just been brought in as a junior partner, and something about the man’s feisty personality intrigued him because it was so different from Shouto’s cooler disposition.

“I take that as a yes,” Iida chuckles, settling back in his desk chair as he watches the cherry expression bloom on Izuku’s face. “In that case, as senior partner I am putting you both to work on the T.A.Y. merger.” He pushes a folder across the desk. “It should give you plenty of opportunities to get to know each other better.”

“Are you serious! I-I’m gonna be so nervous working with him!”

“Just think of it as any other case you’ve worked on with others. He’s new so it’ll be good for someone with experience in our style to partner with him for his first major case.”

Izuku runs a hand down his face, “I’ll do my best boss.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

He takes the folder and walks it down the hall to Bakugou’s office, knocking before entering.

“Hey,” Izuku holds the folder up, “Iida gave us a merger to work on.”

“We?” The man leans forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes. “I thought they weren’t gonna give me any till I pass probation?”

Oh crap, Iida didn’t mention that! “I don’t know bout that, but that’s the instructions he gave me. Could be why he has me working with you.”

Katsuki motions towards the chair across from him. “Sit, you’re making me nervous just standing there.” Holding out his hand, “let me see the file.”

Midoriya does as he’s asked, handing over the folder. He sits there quietly, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap while Bakugou peruses the folder. But Bakugou wasn’t blind to the other man’s plights.

“Do I make ya nervous?” Bakugou asks without looking up from the paperwork.

“No,” Izuku sits up straighter in the chair, trying though failing to be nonchalant about it.

“Tch, right.” He places the folder on his desk. “Well, where do we begin?”

“I know one of the CEO’s, I could call to set up a meeting.”

��Not bad,” Bakugou nods, “connections in high places, you’re one to stay close to Midoriya.”

Izuku flushes, scratching the back of his head with a wide smile, “nah, I just happened to have met him at a function.”

For the next several days, Izuku and Katsuki work at the details of the merger. Their client, T.A.Y. Corp. was moving to purchase a competitor, but that company A.F.O Inc. was trying to renege on the deal, despite the fact it would save them from bankruptcy. This merger would net their firm a sizable closing fee, so, many eyes were watching the pair. Some thought they were an odd match up. Izuku known more for his softer, meticulous approaches, and Katsuki as a bold, plan-as-he-went kind of guy. Both had impressive resume’s despite the differences, but it really was like watching two opposites somehow attracting like a magnet. Maybe their styles complimented each other, brought a balance they could tag team off of, at least, that’s what their bosses hoped for.

Their best bet to push things along smoothly, was to find leverage, and that took research, something Izuku specialized in. Katsuki knew he wasn’t very strong in that area, so he just stayed back and watched, lending a hand wherever he could. Negotiation was more of his strong suit, and that’s where he’ll come into play. He had to admit that despite being a nervous and nerdy guy, Izuku was overly sweet which normally irritated Katsuki, but this man was endearing to him. Every morning the man would show up in his office with coffee and snacks for the both of them. It was even odd how Izuku had guessed his coffee preference. Black, no cream, just a couple of sugar packets. But when asked, Izuku just shrugged and said it was just a lucky guess.

It took a week to get everything together, and a meeting set up between the two companies at their firm’s conference room. Izuku and Katsuki planned out their strategy, which came down to a good cop, bad cop routine. Izuku would handle pushing the facts, and Bakugou would focus on ratcheting up the pressure. Their client was on-board with the plan because all they cared about was gaining A.F.O. and in reality, shutting down some of its questionable operations.

And it worked!

Izuku had been so worried that Katsuki’s pushy behavior might make things difficult, but in the end watching that man work was like a really good thriller movie that you couldn’t keep your eyes off of! He was probably the only one in the room actually starstruck, but that was it for him. Izuku was in love. The exhilaration was palpable by the flash of Katsuki’s eyes, his fiery prose demanding yet coolly calculated. Katsuki was clearly a lion stalking its prey when he worked, and even Izuku fell victim to his deadly reproach. He, they couldn’t take their eyes off the man, and when it was finally over, it was Katsuki standing over A.F.O.’s CEO as the delegate signed on the dotted line.

“You were really amazing to watch in action Bakugou,” a darkening tinge filtering onto Izuku’s cheeks. “I could never be so bold as you.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t as good with all that research and stuff, so you did well on your part too Midoriya.”

‘Is that a blush on Katsuki’s face?’ Izuku wondered as they stood there, awkwardly complimenting each other. They were the last ones in the conference room, their bosses having led the client and other parties out by that time. So, there was no other reason to evoke embarrassment out of the brash man. “I guess… we make a good team?” he asks hesitantly, sweeping his eyes to floor in order not to see Katsuki’s response or reaction if it wasn’t a favorable one.

“Right…. Team…” Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, “speaking of team… we-well, I mean…. oi look at me when I’m talking to you!” Izuku’s eyes, widened by the sudden scolding, snap back to Katsuki. “Tch, better. I was gonna ask you if, you’d like to maybe go, you know, out to dinner or something to celebrate the win… with me?”

If Izuku’s eyes were big earlier, at that moment, he was pretty sure they could see space now. He couldn’t fathom that this man, this polar opposite in so many ways, would ever be interested in going on a date with a nerd like him. I mean sure, they got along fine working on the merger, and it wasn’t for a lack of wanting on his end, but he never any inkling that Katsuki would be interested in more than just a working relationship.

“Well? You gonna answer me or just keep staring?”

Right! He needed an answer! “S-Sorry, yes, Yes! I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Katsuki looks at his watch, “Then I’ll meet you by your car at 6?”

“T-That’ll be fine with me.”

“Good, and don’t be late,” Katsuki pats Izuku on the shoulder and walks out of the room.

Izuku follows not long after, beelining it for his office. Once inside he shuts the door and braces against it. The rush of adrenaline still funneled through his system, and he needed to calm down. He was going on a date with Bakugou tonight! Was this all a dream? Izuku pinches his arm only to find himself still standing, clutching the completed merger files in his hands, with his back against the door. It’s been a long time since he’s had such a rush of romantic emotions, sending his heart soaring, and anxieties through the roof. He didn’t want to hold out too much hope lest his heart be broken a second time in a year, but it did feel good to be wanted again.

That evening at dinner, Izuku did his best to reign in his nerves, and enjoy their time together outside of work. Two men in business suits didn’t quite look very romantic but, there was definitely electricity in the air between them and when Katsuki suggested winding down with a stroll in the park across the street, Izuku jumped at the opportunity. The glass of wine to Katsuki’s whiskey giving him a rosy glow.

At first, it was just the two of them walking along the path in idle conversation until they hit a more secluded area, further from the prying eyes of the lit sidewalks and city street. Katsuki reaches over, taking hold of Izuku’s hand, intertwining their fingers. If not for the shadowed lighting, they would have been able to see the darkening patches on each other’s cheeks. But they could feel a spike in temperature, warming the cooling night air that surrounded them. Neither said a word as the continued along the pathway, simply allowing the excitement to build and tension melt away. It was a step towards a new beginning.

The next several months were a whirlwind.

At the firm, they maintained a professional level, becoming the seamless team envied by other partners, but heralded by their bosses as the perfect storm, able to utilize their differences to affect great results. They really were very different in so many ways, yet once they married those divergent styles and personalities, they truly were a sight to be seen in a conference room. Iida couldn’t be more pleased with himself for pushing them together in the first place.

Outside of work was another story. In the confines of privacy, the bolder Katsuki drew out the quieter Izuku, pulling him not only out of his shell, but showing the shy man that happiness may actually be achievable. After the first couple of months, they were at each other’s apartments on a daily basis, switching back and forth on a whim. They took turns doing things to cater to each other’s desires, maybe a quiet movie at home for Izuku, or even a game of laser tag for Katsuki. Whatever one wanted, the other tried to make it happen.

“I want you to move in with me Izuku,” Katsuki places his arm over the man’s shoulder, pulling his attention away from the television screen. “You mentioned your lease coming due in a month, so it makes sense to just come here instead.”

A whole year had gone by, barely noticed really by Izuku. He’d been so happy about this relationship, but to move in together was a big step. What if things went wrong? His worried lip and furrowed brows trigger a sneer from his boyfriend.

“What? You don’t wanna live with me or something?”

“Huh?” Izuku flushes, “no I do! It’s just, its what killed my last relationship and…” moistures starts to gather in his eyes, “I-I’m afraid.”

“Tch, what’ll really change? I mean half your clothes are here already. You know my habits probably better than I do cause you’re so damn organized.” Katsuki laughs, and leans over, letting his cheek rest against Izuku’s. “I know it’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Izuku breathes out. “I’ll put in my notice to the landlord,” he turns his face to Katsuki, peering up into the man’s crimson eyes. “And move in with you.”

“You sure?”

The flash in Katsuki’s eyes sends a shiver racing up Izuku’s spine. Was he? “Yes,” he nods adding a physical reminder of his determination.

“Good,” Katsuki kisses Izuku on the lips, then letting his trail over the man’s cheek. He whispers close to Izuku’s ear, “we should celebrate tonight, would you agree?” Katsuki places kisses along the nape, lingering at the junction of the shoulder, his canines dragging over the skin’s pulse.

Izuku could only nod and give in to his boyfriends demands…

If the bounce in his step didn’t relay to onlookers the cloud-nine feelings surging through Izuku’s heart, or maybe the ear to ear grin he sported at the idea that today was the day! He was officially moving in with Katsuki! Everything had been packed and moved already, but today was the final walk through, so he’d taken off to deal with it. Izuku pauses at the entrance of the apartment building and stares up at the imposing structure. He really likes it here. It was quiet, friendly, and close to work.

Well, Izuku glances at his watch, Katsuki should be home in a couple of hours, he should get dinner going, maybe even get a little more unpacked. He reaches for the handle of the double door, when another pair of hands grabs it first.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he looks over. He’d been so absorbed with his own thoughts he’d missed another tenant right behind him. But as soon as he sees the man, all the blood drains from his face. “Shouto?! What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t ask you the same question, I live here.”

Izuku cracks a half smile, hoping to break the tension, “I-I’ve moved in too, today is officially my first day.”

Shouto’s eyes widen, “by yourself?” Had his luck improved, that the man he was still in love with would end up moving into the same building as him? He’d moved into this building to get away from the memories that lingered in their old shared one, and every day he kicked himself for not trying to stop Izuku from walking out the door.

“No, no,” Izuku waves his hands excitedly, “I moved in with my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” The man deflates but catches himself quickly not wanting to show his despair. “Congratulations.” Shouto opens the door, gesturing towards it.

“Thanks,” Izuku blushes and walks through. “So, how have things been going with you?” He makes idle conversation on their way to the elevators. Shouto responds with short answers, the whole time doing his best to avoid eye contact. When the doors open on the 5th floor, Izuku steps out. “Well it was nice seeing you, take care!”

“Yeah, you too,” Shouto gives a half wave as the doors close.

As soon as he makes it into the apartment, Izuku braces himself against the front door. Of all the people to run into here, his ex, but you know what? It wasn’t so bad. All this time, he’d been so worried about how he would react to seeing Shouto again, but now he knew the answer. It didn’t bother him. No racing heart, no lingering emotions for his ex, nothing. Izuku smiles, things really were going to be okay.

But, one floor above, Shouto Todoroki felt like his world had completely shattered. Izuku looked so happy the moment he’d mentioned a boyfriend. It was obvious his ex-boyfriend had moved on and that thought just killed him. He drops onto the cold tile floor, with barely the strength to keep himself propped up. Tears well up and he grits his teeth against the stabbing pains, turning his heart into a broken vessel. Stupid! Stupid! He punches the floor. “I should have chased after him!” It was too late now.

A few hours later, Izuku hear the tell-tale sounds of his boyfriend’s keys in the door. He walks out of the kitchen where he’d been finishing a roast to greet the man. “Hey babe,” he smiles wide and kisses Katsuki on the lips. “welcome home…”

#bakudeku #tododekubaku #angst n fluff #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku drabble #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #shouto todoroki #bnha #au story #bakudeku au #request

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skirplyfe · 4 years

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Reflections

This year began with a trip to Portland with the girl.

A few weeks prior, two of my closest friends from High School overdosed and died days apart from each other. I’ve always struggled with depression and anxiety, but at no other time in my collegiate career were these two beasts more prevalent in my everyday life. My days were filled with a sense of dread, emotional instability, crippling panic attacks, and a complete lack of motivation. Getting out of bed was a herculean task at best, as my nights were filled with nightmares and an inability to achieve REM sleep. I was, in short, a complete mess.

All of this, coupled with a myriad of issues that had already plagued the girl and I’s relationship, began to take a toll around this time. There was an unspoken agreement that this trip north was to be our hail Mary attempt at mending whatever issues we had as a couple before she left to work in Southern California.

The first fight of the trip took place two hours into our drive as we crossed the Oregon border. Though the fit was short-lived, the animosity we felt towards one another echoed in the car for the remainder of our drive. I began to drink almost immediately after we arrived in the city, achieving a desired level of intoxication by around 10 that evening. I attempted to hide this from Sabrina.

The next few days followed a cycle of arguments and makeups, both of us attempting to hide our true irritabilities from one another in an effort to both savor the experience of being in a new city and ignore the rapid decay of what we began to realize was never a healthy relationship. The girl hid her emotions under a guise of busywork and tourism, and I, with rigorously scheduled drinking.

As we returned home, there was little conversation in the car. Sabrina slept and I drove, thinking the entire time of how best to approach the conversation I had so masterfully evaded for the last few months.

Through tears, she told me that we could work things out, that if I could just be a man and stop hyper-fixating on the negatives in my life I could be happy. She grew furious that I didn’t cry, asking how someone so emotional could be so cold in a moment like this. I wanted to cry for her, to make her feel better, but I couldn’t. She left early the next morning, making sure to tell me she loved me before departing. I wondered if the absence of feeling could be a feeling.

The spring semester began a few days later, though I paid little attention to anything related to academics. In the days following our return from Portland, it was hard for me to pay attention to anything. Every day felt the same as the last, with minor adjustments of figure and schedule. I scheduled appointments to see a therapist and a psychiatrist.

Each day began the same, with my brain waking before my body, that semi-consciousness that occurs before your eyes open. My mind would assess the state that I had left my body in the night before; dehydrated, sore, lungs filled with tar and liver working overtime. I avoided opening my eyes and letting in the pale morning light, knowing that doing so would allow the entirety of my self-abuse to rear its ugly head. I became apt at grabbing for the bottle of Advil next to my bed and chasing two pills with the water left out the night before. After, a sprint to the bathroom, making sure to turn on the shower and jump right into shock my body into acute consciousness. After a week or so, I was adept at this routine, so long as I could avoid the mirror. I rued the idea of looking into the mirror, as it was my sworn enemy.

I did my best to make it to classes, work, and convince those closest to me that I was fine. For the most part, I think I was pretty successful in the beginning. When people pushed me on certain topics like the breakup or my mental health, I was smart. I’d give them just enough to think I was struggling but maintain a jovial disposition and parry sensitive inquisition with a signature self-deprecating humor. It’s really easy to say how you’re actually feeling to everyone when they think you’re joking. The truth at that point was that I fucking hated myself. I hated that I couldn’t muster up the courage or drive to find anything I found interesting, let alone pursue it. I hated that I was getting fat and not taking care of myself. I hated the lethargy that maintained its presence at the forefront of my psyche. But the thing I hated most was my inability to change the narrative I had written for myself in my own head, that of a self-centered, arrogant, unintelligent bastard. All of this kept up for a couple of months, the weekdays and weekends blurring together in a haze of bad decisions, fueled by a burning desire for self-destruction and a loss of consciousness. I’ve been told I was really fun at parties.

Booze and an assortment of other intoxicating substances became even more of a mainstay then they already had been throughout college. For a short period, I decided that becoming a psychonaut could aid in my quest for redemption. However, I soon found that while mushrooms and LSD are on the safer side of recreational drug use, creating a chasm inside your own mind and hanging out there by yourself may not be the best course of action for a clinically depressed individual.

Eventually, I decided to attempt to sober up, at least a little. Drugs stopped being a mainstay of my group’s consumption, and we all began to invest more of our time into academic pursuits. This was hard for me, as I had completely lacked the motivation to do anything related to school for the last year. Frankly, it’s a miracle I haven’t been put on academic probation. Nevertheless, I did my best to at least attend classes and participate when I could. But then, as things were starting to look a little better, the entire world shut down due to the bitch known as COVID-19, the Novel Coronavirus.

Fuck me was this the worst time for a lockdown to happen. Just as I was beginning to leave my house and change my mindset about both myself and the world around me, it all went to shit. The last two months have been filled with every emotion across the spectrum; rage, depression, anxiety, and uncertainty have permeated through my thoughts on a daily basis. I’m angry at the way leaders and individuals across the country have completely fucked this situation and not given it the credence it deserved. I’m depressed that there’s no time limit to this crisis, and that things that would have light at the end of the tunnel have no concrete date. I’m anxious about school and the fact that I may have to repeat classes due to my inability to light a fire under my ass and do the work on my own volition. And finally, I’m uncertain about everything. Will things change because of this? Will I be able to grow from this experience or be destroyed by it? Will I be able to get a job? Will I be able to keep the job I already have? Is all of this worth it?

All of this being said, the trials and tribulations of the past six months have made me realize something; I have the best fucking group of friends a person could ask for.

I don’t have any close family, and I never really have. Thus, I’ve never really known what being a part of a caring and supportive group is like. The friendships I’ve made over the last three years have changed that entirely though. Never had I been around so many people that make it their priority to lift me up and support me through good times and bad, checking in and supplying me with the strength to carry on day by day. Never have I felt a reason to reciprocate those feelings either, through their emotional generosity I’ve been able to feel capable of empathizing and assisting with their navigation of trauma. As a whole, we’ve grown together throughout this entire experience.

Most of what I’ve written on these three pages may seem as though I’m stuck in a rut, and that my depression and anxiety is getting the best of me. In truth, writing this has really just given me a sense of catharsis, providing me with a checklist of not things that have defeated me in the last 185 days, but traumatic situations and ordeals that I’ve overcome. While I’m far from perfect or even being remotely successful, I’m still here throwing punches at everything life throws my way. I’ll always have bad days, but in turn, I’ll have good ones too. Though it’s hard for me right now to ignore the negatives in my life, it too is hard for me to ignore the positives. That’s progress, and I’ll take it.

#coivd #isolation #sober

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drrjsb · 5 years

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Body & Soul: The Endgame Fix Part 3: Resurrections

Summary: We start on Monday morning of October 30, 2023, the day before Halloween. Bruce plans Natasha's memorial while visiting the wreckage at the Avengers Compound, and he thinks back to what led up to losing her.

On the thirteenth day since he’d learned Natasha was gone, Bruce stood on the spit of lakeshore high ground that was left between the crater where the Avengers Compound had stood and the partially drained lake. The salvage efforts were almost complete, and the rebuilding would start soon. It was so-called “Mischief Night” and Halloween was tomorrow, but he wasn’t particularly feeling it. He looked to his left at the mist over the diminished lake and couldn’t stop remembering what was gone. The dock that he’d ripped the bench from and tossed to the other shore was washed away. It was probably somewhere in the muddy pit with all the high-tech rubble from the buildings. The spot where he’d held up the pancaked concrete layers of the wrecked main building on his left shoulder while he, Rocket, and Rhodey waited those tense minutes for Scott to save the day was now under thirty feet of muddy water.

Tony’s estate wouldn’t be through probate for several months, but he, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey had been meeting to rough out plans for the new and (as always) improved facility. He imagined it would be done before the legal will was read. Tony had left them a ton of ideas to go through, but they obviously had a jump on the demolition Bruce thought with a little bitterness.

The excavation and recovery effort had started immediately after the funeral, but with Scott’s help, Bruce had been the one to find most of Natasha’s things that were salvageable. To be honest, he was really just looking for some mementoes, something of hers to bury since they didn’t have a body. The ballet toe shoes and her third favorite sidearm seemed appropriate. Old Stanislaus, the maintenance worker who’d returned to duty the day after the battle, had offered to make a box for them. Bruce had brought him the bench he’d pitched since it was one of them Nat and he liked to sit on together when he first arrived back on Earth before he moved to his place in Bridgewater about forty minutes to the north.

His rural property was a quiet place, but it had a lot of old small-town charm and was within walking distance of anything he needed day to day. He’d also wanted to be part of a community and not a hermit. Happily, he’d found a home there in Bridgewater. Bruce had initially picked it because of the extensive grounds and the lack of zoning, so he was able to add cutting-edge lab spaces into the older gutted buildings yet still keep the overall appeal of the Arts and Crafts and Victorian exteriors. After his metamorphosis, he’d redone the interiors to a larger scale to match his increased size and height. Everything was off the grid and sustainable, so he was rather proud of that. At some point, he began to think of it as his permanent home.

Tony had even worked with him on modifying his Hummer HX and switching it over to run on a modified Arc Reactor. Bruce was really glad they’d been able to talk as they worked because they’d both felt like they were trying to get over breakups of a sort, yet really feeling guilty deep down for enjoying themselves and finding some normalcy and even joy after the Decimation. Little Morgan had never known him as anyone other than big, green Uncle Bruce, so she didn’t judge. Thankfully, Pepper hadn’t either. She and Tony both saw that he was finally comfortable as himself. No tip-toeing. No overwhelming fear of destroying those he loved. No debilitating pain from the transformations or from holding his larger form. In many ways, Bruce was at peace. With one huge exception, he was happy, too.

He never could get Natasha away from her station at the Avengers Compound, not even to see the gardens he’d added so naively three and four years ago for her. Rhodey had even offered to step in for her to take the helm at the Compound, so she and Bruce could spend some time together. That proposition had really brought things to a head, and Nat and he had quarreled . . . loudly, over her fixation with saving what was left of the universe and what it was costing her psychologically and physically. He had begged her to come with him, just for the weekend, for a day or two, no pressure, separate bedrooms, and she’d scornfully told him he was selfish. He only cared about himself and his desires.

Bruce had finally had enough. “They used to be your desires, too, Nat.” During the first three weeks after they’d killed Thanos, the two of them had started making plans, but the day he’d returned from his trip to Willowdale, Virginia, to see Leonard Samson and start therapy, she’d ignored and avoided him, acted like he was a complete stranger and then a leper. Not three days before that, he’d poured his heart out to her about needing to find a compromise between both halves. He’d explained that might require serious changes, a lot of digging down deep to find the root of their anger, if he was ever going be whole. She’d said she understood and would be his . . . their partner in this journey. She sincerely wanted this for him . . . for both of them, and by extension their own relationship.

After he arrived back at the Compound from Virginia, her sudden coolness had shocked him. What had he done? He must have done something to offend her, but she’d never say. For crying out loud, they’d shared a bed for nearly two months! Suddenly, she wouldn’t even stay in the same room with him unless he physically cornered her. After a month of that icy treatment and tension, he’d been forced to embark on his journey alone. Maybe if she’d been there with them like she’d promised, the changes might have come about differently or seemed less drastic and more of an organic progression like he’d experienced them. Even if he couldn’t convince her to engage with them, they’d been very satisfied with the “upgrades” once the physical and mental integration process was complete. In 18 months, what was done was done. No going back. He was finally whole. Maybe he’d made it permanent to burn their bridges and give her the excuse to be repelled by his size, his color, his “monstrousness”? If she was really that shallow . . . Yet, the thing that still didn’t make any sense, the issue he couldn’t reconcile, was that she’d pursued him . . . waited for him . . . said she loved him and wanted a life with him. Bruce knew she’d been sincere, that she hadn’t lied to him. He would have known.

Yet, that day in the conference room, all of that frustration boiled over as she attacked him and refused to let him help her or give their relationship one last chance. Bruce had crossed his massive forearms across his chest and asked if she was too embarrassed now to even be seen with him much less touch him like she once had. Natasha admitted she was repelled by the sight of him because he’d “mutilated” himself. He didn’t even look human to her.

Bruce had left, but not before pointing out that he’d repeatedly asked for her input before he started, and she’d ignored him and his requests. Yes, maybe he was selfish, but he was willing to put in the hard work on himself to find some peace for him and safety for others. There was no “mutilation” unless she counted her cutting his heart out. Whether or not she approved of the results, he was happier and healthier than he’d been since 2003, maybe even before that. He did not feel guilty about that one bit. He’d asked her several times to go to counselling, and she’d made every excuse to avoid it. Where had her “mission” and her unnecessary martyrdom gotten her? Try looking in the mirror. She was a wreck inside and out. When she was ready to start living again, she knew where to find him. He’d be damned if he’d stand by and watch her slowly, needlessly kill herself any longer. After that, he’d taken a page from Tony’s playbook and mostly washed his hands of anything to do with Avenging.

He hadn’t seen her face-to-face again until Steve had called and asked him to come meet with him and Scott about a new possibility to science their way out of the Decimation, so Bruce had picked a diner where he’d been often enough they had a chair made especially for him. He’d been completely surprised when she walked in with Steve and Scott. Natasha looked even more chronically fatigued than before, but she was still beautiful to him. He’d half expected her to be “with” Steve, but their body language said otherwise. Bruce did his best to be cordial, which made him feel down right manic. He was in a good place, and when she threw out the line about what he’d done for himself having seemed impossible, Bruce didn’t fight her stoking his vanity and wrapping him around her little finger one more time. Despite how she’d treated him and abandon what they’d agreed they both wanted, he’d still loved her, and he still desired what they’d almost had. She’d meant that much to him. Now, he knew he’d never really been over her at all. “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” He wasn’t so certain he agreed with Tennyson because he certainly hadn’t learned from the experience. He hadn’t moved on. Now, all he could do was mourn her, and it hurt.

Bruce took a deep breath and filled his large set of lungs with crisp morning air. Now, it was fall and the oaks and maples were finally showing their colors. Bruce walked the grassy strip with the blast crater on his right and the lake on his left. He was feeling melancholy, mostly because he was trying to plan Natasha’s memorial. He’d Skyped earlier that morning with Lee and talked to Betty for the first time since she’d been back. She’d returned to a son and daughter who’d jumped from three and five years old to eight and ten. Lee said that deep down he had held onto the hope she wasn’t lost, and it had paid off thanks to Bruce. Betty had thanked him, and Bruce was too happy for them to say anything. He was just thankful they’d had their reunion, their resurrection. She’d wanted to have a look at the arm, and he’d agreed to come down in a month or so. He’d already gone through two treatments with Helen and Shuri, which had the limb looking and functioning a lot closer to normal. Thankfully, Betty hadn’t given him any negative feedback about his looks or the “changes,” so at least he’d not had to deal with that. No doubt, Lee had given her a heads-up, but still, it was a kindness and he appreciated it.

Bruce had been having fun over the past week or so discovering what Shuri had packed into the Kimoyo Bead she’d given him. He was not wearing the glove or the prosthetic sleeve that morning because everything was healing so well. He used his scared right hand to roll the Bead on his left wrist to see what the new campus would look like via his glasses. The main building and visitor’s center would have Tony’s name on it, but the committee had agreed the Natasha Romanoff Training Facility would be the next biggest structure along with the new practice grounds. There would be a rose garden and a columbarium for remains, too. Later, they would probably add statues to keep Hap appeased, but Pepper, Rhodey, and he wanted to keep things simple here. Clint and Steve would probably agree with the majority. Thor had told him to be his proxy. There were already enough heroic statues planned elsewhere around the world.

Bruce wasn’t quite sure why he scanned back toward the left to the half-empty lake with its dissipating mists, but he was thinking of sitting on the dock with her, placing his arm around her shoulders and Nat leaning her head against the crook of his neck. They’d had plans. Maybe they’d have been able to patch things up once all the damn guilt-soaked red ink had been washed out of her ledger a hundred billion times over. Something set the Kimoyo Bead blinking and then it vibrated, so Bruce swung his attention back around and looked at the water left in the middle of the lake. It was a deep-water lake, so there was still well over a hundred feet of water in the middle beyond the 25-30 yards of sloping mudflats, gravel beds, and brush left exposed. He’d estimated it might take as long as a year for the lake to fill up naturally now that the shoreline had been mostly repaired.

Bruce tapped his earpiece to access the mobile interface in his glasses. “Friday, use the Bead’s sensors to analyze what set it off. I want to know what’s left in the center of the lake.”

“Aye, Dr. Banner, aside from rocks and detritus, it appears to be a metallic object about 25 x 20 meters. It may be a craft. Make and type, unknown. Possibly a type of . . . spacecraft,” the Interface informed him as it continued to gather data and analyze it. “That would be my best guess as to what it is, Sar. It seems to have been in place for an extended period of time, but has just recently ‘decloaked,’ for the lack of a better description.”

“Then it’s not Tony’s?”

If the Interface could have cleared its throat, it would have. “I think I’d recognize Mr. Stark’s work.”

“Sorry, Friday, I had to ask. Are you sure it’s not a Chitauri craft or something else left over from Thanos’ attack?”

“No, Doctor, it’s much smaller, too lightly armored: it’s only about eighteen tons and not at all like what previously did battle here. The sediment would indicate it’s been in place for a number of years.”

“Any idea what it’s doing here? Is there anyone in it?”

“Nothing conclusive yet, Dr. Banner. The metal makes scanning a challenge. Wait, an affirmative: there is one humanoid aboard. No detectable mechanical activity aside from life support though. Shall I try and establish contact?”

“Yes, and alert Colonel Rhodes and whomever else is closest . . . Get Fury if he’s available.”

A few tense moments passed as Bruce considered what to do. He wasn’t back up to fighting form yet, but he could summon the Hulk-Buster armor and a couple of others from storage at his place for backup if needed—Tony had those and more than a few other projects stored there in various stages of completion. He hoped Morgan or Peter or Harley would finish them with him.

Friday’s lilting voice finally reported back: “I’ve not been able to reach Colonel Rhodes because he’s on assignment, but I successfully contacted Fury. Ms. Maximov is on her way from New York City. Fury advises you to sit tight and wait till they arrive. He has contacted Carol Danvers as well.”

Great. The big gun. “All right, Friday. Is the mystery ship still just sitting there? No response?”

“No response to my . . . wait. I’m getting audio. I’ll patch it through . . .”

“Avengers? Anyone? Mayday. Hello . . . ?”

Continue on AO3, WattPad, or Fanfiction.net

#DrRJSB #Bruce Banner #Hulk #Brutasha #Black Widow #Natasha Romanoff #Body & Soul #Resurrections #HulkWidow #Brucenat #Justice4Nat #Endlame #The Avengers #MCU #post endgame #FTR

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purple-spring · 6 years

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In here, too.

Post-2x12 extended moment.

Summary: The Jones trailer was a document of their story - of their love, their wounds and their scars. Tonight, they were writing a new chapter.

“Betty’s limbs were imbued with a will of their own, and though she was slowed by the headiness of the moment, she had never felt more sure of herself, or of what she was doing.

He wanted her. Needed her.

And she was going to give it all to him.”

Author’s notes: My first smutty fic, so please be kind! Thank you to the incredible @jandjsalmon and @theatreofexpression for all your help, encouragement and support as I wrote this, and to @aunt-imogene for the gorgeous gif.

Read below the cut, or here on my Ao3.

The Jones trailer was dotted with remnants of their history.

From where she sat, Betty had a clear view of everything. The spot in the living room where he first told her that he loved her. The kitchen counter where he had lifted her roughly, his mouth hot and searching on hers, overcome with passion. The door he creaked open to an ominous crowd of Serpents, who handed him his own jacket. The couch where they had fallen asleep the night they were investigating the Black Hood.

And where they sat now, silently watching TV.

What chapter of our history is this supposed to be? Betty pondered the question as she glanced at him tentatively. They were seated away from each other, their bodies not even touching, yet painfully, the closest they’d been in weeks. Her shoes were off and his beanie was lying flat on the space next to him - small items of clothing discarded casually, as though they were learning to be exposed and unguarded around each other all over again.

The last 24 hours had been a blur. By some twist of fate, they had fallen into the old rhythms of Betty and Jughead, Sleuthing Duo Extraordinaire, all over again. It felt familiar. It felt right.

But there was something else there - something aching and tender that lingered beneath the dynamic energy that came from bouncing ideas off each other and pursuing leads. To Betty’s surprise, Jughead had broached the subject of their relationship and had been open and vulnerable, apologising to her and owning up to so much - his regret over their breakup, his misdemeanours with Toni, his brief time as a drug mule, and his mutilation of Penny Peabody.

He was laying it all out for her, exposing himself willingly after weeks of shutting himself away from her.

And she was overwhelmed.

What does this mean for us? She looked over to him, fought the urge to reach out and touch his face. Is there still an ‘us’ to be salvaged from the wreck?

Jughead turned the television off. “Good old Hiram Lodge,” he muttered. “I wonder what he’s planning for us. On the Southside.”

She contemplated the question silently. “Maybe we can ask Veronica on Monday.” Oh god, Veronica. Betty winced at the thought of her best friend being drawn into this mess. How does she fit into all this? For the most part, she may have been reeling from the suddenness of being thrust back into Jughead’s sphere again, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder about what would become of them - Veronica, Archie, Jughead, herself. Even Josie and Cheryl. The children of Riverdale. The victims of their parents’ histories.

“Yeah.” Jughead sighed. “Maybe we should just investigate quietly, until we know more.”

Betty nodded, acquiescing.

“We haven’t saved the trailer park yet. And I’m on probation from the Serpents, whatever that means. Because of what I did to Penny.”

What I did to Penny. The thought of it still unsettled her. He hadn’t gone into detail, but Betty knew him enough not to feel angry or incensed - instead, she could only feel unbearable sadness at the desperation he must have been driven to, to feel as though he had no other option than to do what he did.

“But we stopped her from coming back,” Jughead conceded. “ And we got rid of Tall Boy.”

“ We. ” She couldn’t help it. Her face broke out into an involuntary smile. “It’s just nice to hear that again.” And it was. After the many lonely nights that followed their breakup, the dark days of the Black Hood, the emotional rollercoaster of finding her brother and being led into the sordid, clandestine world he inhabited, sitting here with Jughead felt… good. Stable.

He turned to her. “ Look, I’ll be apologising for it for the rest of my life, but I’m sorry. I am.” Betty looked up at him, and saw that his eyes were filled with remorse. “For feeling like I needed to shield you from what I was going through with the Serpents, or… my darkness.” He scoffed at that last word, seeming to cringe at the cliche, but finding nothing better to describe the bleakness of his world without her.

“I can handle it.” And I want to, she added silently.

“I know,” he responded, as if reading her thoughts. “I know you can.”

Betty exhaled. The weight of his words stirred something in her, and suddenly the door she had worked so hard to close since their breakup flew wide open, inviting her to walk through again. And though every part of her longed to do just that, she felt tentative and scared. There was still so much that she needed to tell him. So much that she feared to divulge.

She sighed, her yearning overcome by common sense. “I should probably…” she broke off. You should stay. You should stay. You should stay. “…start heading home.”

The fragile bubble of their moment deflated. But what else was she supposed to do? This had to be enough for her, for now - the simple hope that they weren’t done yet. She needed to leave on that note, because she wanted to fall asleep tonight with that hope tucked away into her heart.

“Or you could stay,” he said, in a half-whisper.

Oh.

Betty stared straight ahead, alarmed by the sudden turn of events and afraid that if she so much as breathed in his direction, she’d betray just how desperately she needed to hear him say that - a direct reversal of their ill-fated conversation in front of the Whyte Wyrm, when he told her to go home. This was anything but that. He was inviting her into his home, into himself. No more pushing each other away.

I guess it didn’t stick, after all.

She exhaled slowly, releasing a breath that had been constricting her chest. She still couldn’t bear to look at him, not now when every part of her - body, heart, mind and soul - was clicking into place as it pointed her to one inevitable conclusion.

“Stay,” he repeated.

His fingers grazed the edge of her dress, a wordless request for her consent. His eyes were fixed on her, all but begging. His mouth hung open, parted as it lingered on the remnants of that single word. Stay.

Betty’s limbs were imbued with a will of their own, and though she was slowed by the headiness of the moment, she had never felt more sure of herself, or of what she was doing.

He wanted her. Needed her.

And she was going to give it all to him.

…

Betty’s heart was clamorous in her chest as their lips met for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She felt curious rather than shocked at the sight of herself climbing up to straddle his lap and pin him against the couch. How did her body even know how to do such things? Then she remembered who she was kissing, remembered that his touch incinerated her unlike anything or anyone she had ever known, and she knew that the answer to that question was tied up entirely in him.

This is your doing, Jughead Jones. This is –

A sharp, metallic sound interrupted her thoughts, and suddenly she was aware of goosebumps raising on the bare flesh on her back as it met the cold air. He had unzipped her dress, and his hands now frantically, expertly grasped the hems, sliding them forward, away from her body.

If there had been any question about where this was going, they were swiftly answered in that one motion. She was now partially naked, her dress bunched around her waist, her silken lavender bra exposed. Hungrily, Jughead continued to kiss her, but his mouth now wandered downwards and away from her mouth, to her neck, her chest, the top of her breasts, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, every coherent thought undone. Underneath her, his desire was making itself evident as she felt his length harden against her, right where she was already growing wetter by the second. On instinct, her hips pressed forward, wanting this, wanting him with a primal, possessive fierceness. He bucked up in response, and she felt a jolt of pure, white-hot pleasure shooting through her body.

“W-wait, wait, wait…” she managed to breathe out. He barely let up, his lips now making quick work of her collarbone. “I need to tell you something.”

If Jughead heard her, it would’ve been entirely accidental. He was completely focused on her, and she remembered now how he always had a thing for kissing her neck, for nipping his teeth at her pulse point in a way that always elicited a breathy moan (which she always had to bite back whenever they were making out on her bed, afraid of the thin walls and of Alice Cooper’s wrath). She knew that if she didn’t physically pull away, he wouldn’t have paid her any heed.

“What?” he panted. “What is it?”

S he felt her body screaming at her, protesting now as Jughead’s lips left her skin. Yes, Betty, it huffed at her. What IS it?

She looked down at him - his head slightly tilted, questioning, his eyes soft and vulnerable but darkened by lust, his face flushed by the heat from its contact with her skin. She had stopped them with the intention of telling him the truth - which truth, she could barely say herself. There were… a few, to put it mildly.

But they were immediately overwhelmed and overtaken by the one truth that mattered most in that moment.

That she loved him. That she never stopped. Couldn’t stop.

And that this - this swirling storm of passion and lust that churned between them, even now as they were parted - was long overdue.

She decided to tell him that truth.

“Nothing,” she whispered in response to his question. Her fingers grazed his bare chest, longing to undo his shirt. “I just… want you. I want all of you. Tonight.”

All of him. Every last inch. Every shade of light and dark. Everything.

If Jughead was impassioned before, her words clearly switched on another gear. She watched him, with a faint sense of pride and smug pleasure, as his eyes grazed greedily over her breasts, evidently seconds away from ravishing them with his mouth.

No, she thought, as she gently tilted his chin up and pulled him in for a searing kiss. Not yet.

Betty needed him in slow motion, at least for now. Needed to savour each second of this encounter. To store up every last frame of it in her memory.

Jughead instinctively picked up on the hint and circled his arms around her bare waist, leaning into the kiss, gentler than before. She sighed into his mouth, their tongues tangling together as they sought a softer intimacy.

How long they spent there, suspended in the leisurely heat of their kiss, Betty had no idea. But as she felt his fingers inching their way up again to the clasp of her bra, she quickly decided that she’d had enough of being the only one naked on the couch. She broke away from their kiss and swiftly pulled him up by his suspenders, which she promptly slid off his shoulders.

Betty saw surprise register on his face at the abrupt change in pace before leaning forward to kiss him again, this time with her hands busy at his shirt. Her fingers sought flesh, and was rewarded when Jughead reached down and unbuttoned the shirt himself. Mirroring his early movements, she gripped the hems and half-tore the garment off his body, freeing his skin so that it was hers to explore. This time, it was her turn to gawk at him - the sinewy muscles of his frame, the slight shadows made by the ripples on his torso.

She had barely finished sweeping her eyes over the expanse of his skin when he pressed his mouth to her left shoulder, the lacy strap of her bra falling off as it gave way to his persistent need to taste her. Leaving a trail of hot breath in their wake, his lips caressed the downward slope of her right breast, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes in ecstasy as she bit back a cry.

Jughead noticed that and pulled her closer to him, pressing his mouth against her ear. “You’re here with me, Betty, not in your room,” he murmured against her earlobe. “Let me hear you. Please.”

She was so caught up in the urgency of that whisper that she was stunned when her bra suddenly came loose, his clever fingers having worked the clasp, her breasts now freed and exposed to his hungry stare. As he bent down and took one peaked nipple into his mouth, the moans she had worked so hard to stop in her throat pierced the air of the empty trailer, fast and breathless.

“Yeah, Betts, that’s it,” he said, murmuring against her skin. She rocked on top of him, her pussy wet and in desperate need of friction. He was right there with her, thrusting his hardness up against her, and she thought - in between the ministrations of his mouth and the wandering of his hands - that if they kept this up any longer, she’d probably end up reeling over the edge of an orgasm before she even knew it.

Jughead broke away and looked up at her, their eyes level. “Turn around,” he said, his voice low but assertive, no trace of softness or vulnerability evident.

Betty arched an eyebrow at him as she stood up, discarding her dress on the couch, her body completely naked, save for her lacy lavender briefs.

“Wait,” he said, interrupting her as she began to turn. “Can you…? Just stand there for me.”

Betty obeyed him tentatively. They had done some fooling around prior to their break-up, but she had never been this nude in front of him before. His eyebrows were knitted together, his brow furrowed as he looked her over. Betty grew nervous as his silence extended.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” he said, his voice ragged, reverent. “You’re just… you’re breathtaking, Betty.”

His words reduced her to a hot, wanton mess. He inched forward in his seat and drew her closer, planting a flutter of a kiss on her abdomen while his hands grazed the back of her thighs. He reached up to cup her ass, then hooked his fingers underneath the flimsy material of her underwear, dragging it down slowly over her lithe, shapely legs.

Her heart was hammering in her ribs as his hands gripped her hips and swivelled her around before pulling her naked form down onto his lap, with the two of them facing in the same direction. Immediately, Betty saw why he wanted her positioned this way: his hands reached around, firmly groping her full, pert breasts.

Jughead’s hands had wandered before, and she had actively encouraged him, but those incursions upon her body were nothing like this: forward, dominant and sure. Perhaps the darkening days of Riverdale were propelling this need: if tomorrow can’t be promised, if death and danger were right around the corner, then…

“ Fuck, Betts.” He swore as she reached behind her to stroke his cock. Sitting up slightly, he pressed his mouth up against her jaw, whispering and groaning her name, loosening forth a stream of words incoherent, sweet and filthy all at once. In rare moments of lucidity, she watched her body in fascination as it squirmed and contorted in response to him, her legs spreading wide open, begging for him to touch her. When his fingers finally found her throbbing entrance, her back arched right off him, she let out an obscene moan, and he threw an arm around her to hold her down against his body.

“Stay with me,” he commanded. Her breath was coming out in wild spurts now as he traced circles on her clit. It took all of her restraint not to bear down and have the whole thing over quickly. She was frantic for release, but she needed more than that tonight; she needed intimacy.

Jughead slipped a finger into her, slowly at first, gauging her reaction. “Keep going,” she pleaded, and with one slick movement he buried it in. Her cries were pure and primal as he pumped it in and out of her, his voice still raspy in her ear, his other hand working her breast as she writhed in ecstasy.

The tightness that was winding up in her abdomen was now building up to an eruption. Betty recognised the onslaught, and reached up to grab a firm hold of Jughead’s hair - not enough to pull, but certainly enough to be felt. “I’m… I’m nearly…”

“Let me feel it, Betts,” he muttered into her ear as he nipped on her earlobe and pressed down on her clit. “Every bit of it.”

She clamped her pelvis down into his hand, shamelessly fucking his finger. “Jug. I’m, oh god , I–”

Explosions of white behind her eyes. Her mouth forming a silent, salacious scream. Every muscle taut with pleasure as she rode wave after wave. Then, just as she thought it had died down, the aftershocks of her orgasm shuddered through her body like small tremors.

It could’ve been seconds or hours later - she wasn’t sure. Time suddenly felt fluid, irrelevant. Her body lay limp in Jughead’s arms as he kissed her neck, which was now covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

“Jug… please. In me.” Her breath hitched and she was on the verge of incoherence as the last quivers of their encounter shook out of her.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder before looking around the living room. “Here? You don’t want to move to the bed?”

If he had asked her the same question on that night when he unceremoniously slammed her against the kitchen cabinets, she would have undoubtedly said yes. After all, his bed was the trailer’s closest approximation to how she’d pictured their first time in her mind: a small, quaint cottage in the middle of nowhere, a four-poster bed covered in damask curtains, roses on the sheets, candles on the floor.

But she had tended to his wounds on this couch. Fallen asleep in it while enveloped in his arms. Sat upon it with him through happiness and tension and peace and instability.

It was perfect.

“No,” she whispered, as she turned around. “I want this. I want you. Right here.”

Jughead didn’t need to be told twice, as he undid his belt and pushed down his trousers, his hard length springing forth. Betty straddled him again and immediately started kissing him, her wetness slick on his cock. In between kisses, he managed to ask her, “Are you still…? Do I need to…?”

“I’m on the pill, yeah,” she murmured.

He leaned back and looked at her. “If you want… I can still get a condom, Betty. It’s no big deal.”

“No, no,” she protested, before fixing her stare on him. “I said I wanted all of you, Jug. I… I want to feel you, too.”

Jughead could only nod dumbly, much too overcome for speech. He wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss. They locked eyes, and she nodded in assent. Yes. Now.

Betty sat up off his lap and lowered herself gently, gingerly, onto him. She hissed through her teeth as she felt her walls expand suddenly upon his entrance, a sharp pang of pain shooting through her body. Jughead groaned as he was buried to the hilt, but kept his eyes on her. As she winced, he grabbed her hands, gently prying her fingers open before kissing her palms, right where her scars were.

Betty was suddenly less alert to the pain and more conscious of the significance of that gesture. How was it that the person who had shattered her world just moments earlier was now being so gentle, so tender? She looked down at him before tucking her hair behind her ear, and bending down to kiss his shoulder - the very same one that Toni had tattooed with the symbol of his loyalty to the South.

When she said she wanted all of him, she meant it.

Every mistake. Every misdemeanour. Every dark and hidden corner.

Jughead began to thrust up into her, and though some remnant of pain lingered behind, she began to sense how this might feel good, how she might want to try it again, and soon. He leaned back on the couch, taking her forward with him, and the new angle sent sparks of pleasures through her. Slowly, they began to build a rhythm - thrust, grind, up, down.

She clenched down on him, experimenting with the sensation, wanting to see what he liked, what made him feel good. At times, he stopped their rhythm in order to press her down onto him, lapping up her tits, ravishing them again with his mouth. As he built up pressure, his speed increasing, she sensed it; he was nearing the brink, and he was ready for freefall.

She pushed up against him, grinding, bucking up her hips with wild abandon, the pain now a distant memory. He groaned his appreciation, all words lost in incoherent bliss, only sensation remaining. Tight. Wet. Euphoria. Faster, she rode him, every part of her thrumming and throbbing and present in the moment.

“Betts, I’m–”

“Yes, Jug,” She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“I’m about to –”

His body tensed. Their voices mingled as they said each other’s names in tandem - her voice a whisper; his, a muted shout. Seconds of stunned silence followed as he wordlessly buried his head in her neck before breaking out into a deeper, more guttural groan. Betty held on to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as his warm release filled her. A final moan escaped his lips before he collapsed back into the couch.

A small laugh escaped her lips.

Holy.

Shit.

…

Later on, after they were both cleaned up and somewhat dressed, they did end up on his bed, only because she was cold and the couch was too narrow for them to lie on. His arm was slung lazily over her bare stomach, their legs entangled, their silence a comfort.

“I need to go home soon,” she finally said, her tone regretful as she stared at all the missed calls on her phone.

Jughead drew her closer. “You’re home here.”

Betty smiled and turned so that she was facing him. “I know. I am.”

She kissed him before she sat up and got off the bed, the soreness in her legs a pleasant reminder of their encounter. He groaned as she stood up, loathe to part with her. As she slipped her dress back on, combing her fingers through her hair, he fixed his eyes on her, unrelenting.

“You feel okay?” he asked.

“I’ve never been better, Juggie.”

“Good,” he said. “Do you want a ride home or something?”

“No, I’ve got the car,” she replied, somewhat reluctantly, the temptation to feel him between her legs again sorely inviting. “Thank you, though.”

They both fell quiet.

Three unsaid words hung in the air between them. It had been a while since either of them had verbalised it. If she really thought about it, Betty supposed that it might be nice to hear themselves say it. Complete the circle, as it were.

But the night had made that redundant, at least for now. And there were many nights ahead of them. Many days in which they could let it be said, whether whispered against a pillow or uttered in conversation or screamed at the height of pleasure.

Betty looked around Jughead’s room. She thought of the trailer, how it framed and reflected their story, and what her presence in his room now said about the next sequence in their narrative.

The Underwood typewriter she had given him sat proudly on his desk. His small library of books was piled high on the floor. His Serpent jacket was draped over a chair. His bedsheets of dark plaid were soft and inviting.

All of a sudden, she knew the three words that she wanted to and could say, right here and right now. They came out of pure desire, but also out of the promise that the chapters of their history had not shuddered to a halt; that they were being written again.

“In here, too,” she half-whispered to herself.

Jughead smiled, not quite catching it. “What was that?”

“In here, too,” she repeated more clearly. “It’ll happen again, and it’ll happen in here. You and me. We’ll make this ours.”

“‘Ours’,” he exhaled. “I like that.”

She stooped down to kiss him one more time. Quietly, she made it a vow. Imbued it with her love, her desire, her passion for him. Whispered into it the memory of tonight. Made it a wish for an infinite amount of tomorrows.

“Yeah,” she said, her laughter on his lips. “Ours.”

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead smut #paperlesscrown writes

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