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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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Ooh I just read the other part to the baby Jamie tartt story and it was amazing!! What about where it’s bea’s first soccer game and the team shows up and Jamie is just a proud dad or she’s 2 or 3 watching her dad play and cheering super loud and getting into it!?!

Heyyo! Mixed this with another ask. It was fun to write! Thank you!

today’s a day like any other

Bea is two years old and five months, and she’s at the age where she is talking in sentences and can understand things that are happening around her. She makes little two-year-old jokes that only she understands, and her favorite person in the whole entire world is Sam Obisanya.

You have a picture of her at her second birthday party, pointing at something while Sam holds her, both in matching Obisanya 24 kits. She can’t read, but she knows enough to tell that the markings are the same. She wears it every day it’s clean, and some days it’s not. You think it’s hilarious because Jamie has to cajole her into wearing her Baby Tartt 9 kit.

Jamie is her second favorite person. She calls him “dada,” and shrieks whenever he comes home from training. Both of you are in your mid-twenties now, and you get stares whenever you’re out with her. The press is still the press, but they keep Bea’s face out of it when they speculate how long Jamie will keep “playing house,” or you will “put up with his antics.” They comment on young marriage and early divorce, and you and Jamie make the choice to laugh through it.

He calls Ted about once a week for advice on marriage and fatherhood, and Rebecca stops by for lunch for you and Bea twice a week to give you advice on marriage and encourage you in motherhood. Bea adores her, almost as much as she does Sam. Almost.

Rebecca had been hesitant at first to share, but once you said, “I’m pretty sure you know what red flags I should look for,” she laughed and went full steam ahead.

All that to say, Bea’s favorite people are Sam, Jamie, and you, in exactly that order. (You could rank the rest of the team, but honestly it’s pretty close between some of them and they don’t need that type of competition.)

Bea is two years old and five months, and she is at yet another football match, wearing her Obisanya 24 jersey and bouncing up and down in your arms. You’re three months along with your son name undisclosed so you can still hide it, but you’re wearing one of Jamie’s kits as opposed to your own. You put tiny lines of red and blue face paint on Bea and are standing up in Rebecca’s box, pointing things out to Bea. You point to a tiny Sam on the pitch, and Bea starts yelling, “Sam, Sam, Sam!” He can’t hear her, of course, but he’s looking around and smiling. The stadium is chanting, “Go, Sam Obisanya,” and Bea picks it up. You see Jamie nudge Sam and point up to where you’re sitting and Sam waves. Bea waves back, giggling.

“Bea, do you see Dada?” you ask. Jamie’s face is on the big screen, and she wiggles even harder. She’s practically vibrating in your arms. You think this might be the first game she actually understands enough to remember. You spend the first half narrating the game to her- “See, Sam has the ball. He’s trying to get it to Dada. Oh look, there he goes. Do you think he’s going to pass it?”

Bea is watching intently as Jamie zips by player after player. You see him fake out Wolverhampton’s last line of defense and then the stadium erupts. He’s scored the first goal of the game.

Bea is yelling her head off and bouncing again. Jamie looks up to where he knows you are an blow a kiss, which only makes Bea lose it more.

On the drive home, all she can talk about is how “dada got a goal,” and “dada is my favorite.”

—

Bea is seven years old and one month, and she is very adamant that she wants to play football. Her friends are all playing, plus she’s Beatrice fricken’ Tartt. Isn’t football in her blood?

You and Jamie tried to talk her out of it, not wanting her to feel like she had to. She insisted.

So there you are on a Saturday morning, seven months pregnant (yes, again thanks to goddamn Jamie Tartt) getting ready to cheer Bea on in her first match of the season.

Her kit says Tartt 24 because of course it does. The teams are doing little stretches to get ready, so you smile and reach down to get a juice for four-year-old Theo (no, you don’t call him Ted) out of the cooler Jamie brought.

“Eyy, it’s the Tartts!” says a voice. You look up to a grinning Dani.

“Dani! What are you doing here?” you ask, grinning back.

“Couldn’t miss my favorite niece’s first match, could I? And I heard you had drinks,” he says, peering into the cooler.

You laugh and someone else says, “let me know what’s in the cooler, bruv.” You turn, and there’s Isaac, Colin, and Michael. Dani waves to someone across the field, and it’s Sam, Jan Maas, Richard, and Bumbercatch. Roy’s Jeep screeches into the parking lot, and you see him get out followed by a flurry of pink. Of course it’s Keeley.

“I hope I’m not late,” says another voice, and Bea runs up to say “Aunt Bex!” and does a flying leap at Rebecca.

All of Bea’s uncles are here, minus Ted and Beard, to support her at her first game.

You think you might cry.

Jamie, on the other hand, is looking extremely proud of himself.

Bea is showing of her number 24, Sam is grinning proudly, Richard, Isaac, and Jan Maas are hyping her up, and Dani is doing arm curls with Theo hanging onto his wrist.

Jamie slides his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your neck.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say, “did you invite all of them?”

Jamie grins. “I might’ve.“

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever done. It might even make me not mad at you anymore.”

Jamie pulls away a little, indignant. “What’re you mad at me for? I haven’t done anything!”

You point to your stomach and say, “Oh really, then what do you call this?”

Jamie fixes you with a devilish grin. “Proof that I’m still fucking sexy?”

You giggle like a teenager. He is definitely still fucking sexy.

The game is filled with wild cheers from Bea’s aunts and uncles, especially when she performs a header.

“I taught her that,” Roy says to anyone who will listen.

They swarm her on the field after the game’s over, uncaring if she’s won or lost. It doesn’t matter. They don’t all play for Richmond anymore, but they will always be a family.

—

Bea is sixteen years old when she causually mentions a boy named Thomas in one of her classes. You’re all at the dinner table and Jamie doesn’t clock it, but you do.

Jamie is only a few years out from retirement. He’s around the age Roy was when Roy hurt his knee, and although he’s still tearing it up on the pitch, you both know his time is coming to a close.

He’s a lot sadder than he lets on, but you remind him there’s more to life. Your family has become somewhat famous, even in the States, so he’ll still have opportunities to do what he loves. Just not with the League. It’s become a bit of a routine, at this point, having the same conversation at the end of ever season.

Just one more, Jamie promises, One more and then I’ll retire. You just hope he isn’t forced to by an injury.

But anyway, Bea’s got her eye on a boy and Jamie is completely oblivious until you bring it up that night while getting ready for bed. He’s flossing his teeth and your putting lotion on your face.

“She fuckin’ what?” Spit goes flying.

“Jamie, that’s disgusting. Please wipe that up.”

Jamie grabs a towel and swipes at the mirror. “How d’you know? It could just be a friend. She’s too young to be thinking like that!”

You smile. Bea’s a very thoughtful girl. You’re pretty sure she timed the name-drop with great precision and care, testing the waters.

She’s a lot like you.

“Babe, I just know. And, not sure if you’ve noticed, but she’s not seven anymore. Plus, I’ve seen Thomas around. He’s a very bright, respectful young man. Bea’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Jamie pales, not listening to a thing you said. He grabs your hand. “Babe. Babe. Think about what I was like. Fucking hell, I was an absolute wanker. Oh fuck. This is not fucking good.”

He’s spiraling. He’s spiraling about his oldest daughter and it’s adorable. His hair is all crazy from running his hands through it, and his eyes are wild. You know what Jamie was like. You met a toned-down version of him, and you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t want Bea even near someone like that. You’ve heard the stories of how he was before.

“Jaim,” you say, “it’s going to be ok. Seriously.”

“You don’t understand,” he says, hands now on your face. “I was an absolute shithead. I was rude and a fucking dick. I didn’t treat women well, or anyone well, and I don’t want Bea with someone like me.”

You understand. You’re not minimizing his concerns or apathetic about Bea, it’s just that you know the daughter you’ve raised, and you tell Jamie as much. “I know this is new for us, but she’s wonderful. And anyway, it’s not like she’s going to end up like me, twenty-two and knocked up.”

“We were married!” Jamie protests, “And twenty-two is like being a real adult!”

You raise an eyebrow. “We were barely married. And we were basically kids.”

Jamie still looks distraught, so you place your hands on his wrists.

“Darling, don’t worry. She’ll be ok. We made it this far being stupid, and she’s so much smarter than either of us.”

Jamie snorts, which you take as a victory.

“And anyway,” you continue, “any boy that breaks her heart has like a million of her scary uncles to deal with. I promise, promise, promise she’ll be alright.”

Jamie smiles at that. “She does, doesn’t she?” He kisses the tip of your nose. “Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t have any of those, otherwise we might not have gotten together.”

You laugh. “Alright, you sentimental dweeb. It’s past your bedtime.”

“Just one more kiss,” Jamie replies, and then his lips are on yours and you forget what you were even talking about, anyway.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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igotanidea · 4 months

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A men's talk : Jason Todd x reader

Christmas bingo day 24 : christmas market

A/N: I'm sorry for all the spellings that might be there! The preparations are crazy today and I;m in a hurry! Nonetheless enjoy the story and MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

***

Y/N was a master planer.

Every year, before Christmas she has prepared a list of things to do and connected them to day on which should be done.

Any every year it worked perfectly, everything was ready right on time before anyone loosing their minds during preparations. Until now.

And before I tell you what exactly happened on that particular year, please bare in mind that her boyfriend Jason was way more spontaneous than her and making "to-do" list was definitely not his style.

Now, on that year - Y/N fell sick.

And while she was being busy choking on her lungs and sneezing her brains out Jason was left to follow the detailed instructions of what and when to do. How hard could it have been to just read with understading and fulfil the steps?

Well-

In Jason's head it was an aberration. She couldn't truly have expected him to do the shopping and clean the aparrment while she was fighting for her life right? It was his duty, as a good boyfriend, to put her well-being above christmas preparations. Therefore, instead of checking the boxes he spent his time by her bedside, holding her hand and stroking her head whenever his vigilante duties allowed him to. Y/N's perfectly prepared list long forgoten as he was holding her close and checking her temperature making sure she was ok.

"Did you buy the presents?" she asked softly a few days before the christmas eve, nuzzling into his arms, feeling safe and taken care of.

"Mhm. Yes, yes, absolutely." obviously he didn;t but there was still hell lot of time and Jason was busy with much more important things in the form of loving his girlfriend.

'What about the christmas tree?" she snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of his bare chest, cause even despite the fever she was freezing.

"Obviously baby." he kissed her forehead. In any other circumstances he would be worried about catching the cold from her, but apparently Lazarus Pit gave him some extra immunity and he was taking full advantage of it "don't worry about a thing, I got it all handled. Now rest princess, I'm here. Everything is fine." her hair was silky under his fingers, her body fitting his perfectly - he just couldn't leave the love of his life alone, could he?

The panic started on the day of the christmas eve when he figured that pretty much nothing was done in the apartment. A few emergency calls got him a quite decent christmas tree and some decorations alongside with the basic dishes.

But.

One thing he could not get - and which was an absolute must for Y/N was fish. This was the only dish she was dead set on having on the christmas table.

And it was a problem that forced Jason to leave her and rush to the miraculously-still-open christmas market in hope of acquiring something.

And if you ever watched any movie about the last-minute holiday preparations you probably know all the comedic gags and funny situations portayed there.

Haha... haha... hilarious.

When you see it on TV and not take part in the great fighting for fish with Jason Todd.

Poor guy.

He emerged from the shop with his hair slighly ruffled and his coat askew, pretty sure he lost a few buttons and at least a bif of dignity. But it was all for Y/N and the though made it teeny tiny bit easier to swallow the humiliation. nonetheless he was starting to understand the point of her list, not that he was going to admit it to her out loud.

Nonetheless, he was a champion and was already imagining his girlrfriend's sparkling eyes and happy smile after seving her the perfectly prepared and seasoned fish. Those thoughts consumed him to such extend he was barely paying attention to the surroudning and didn;t notice the unwanted someone following him all the way from the shop to the apartment.

Flexible and sly little fella sneaked behind him into the stairwell and went up the stairs completely unnoticed, hiding in the shadow. He also used the few spare seconds between opening and closing the door to the apartment to penetrate inside the warmth he has been deprived of for so long.

"Y/N! Baby I'm home!" Jason called from the hallway taking off his shoes and coat, completly unaware of the tail he brough home "I'm gonna start cooking now, I got your favourite dish and - fuck!"

"Meow!"

The unexpected visitor seemed to be outraged that his meal was interrupted. The fish was delicious, fresh and even if the cat had to tear off the foil in which it was wrapped, the claws and little sharp teeth was perfect for this task.

"you little -!" Jason hissed grabbing the cat from the floor by his back getting ready to kick him out the door.

"Meow!!" the poor animal cried out desperately over and over again risking dragging y/n out of bed, dragged by the noise.

"shut up!"

"Meow!"

"just shut the-" Jason stopped int he middle of the sentence for the first time truly looking at the being that invaded his space. He took in cat's emaciation - it was pretty much skin and bones. He noticed the dull, dirty fur and the sheer desperation and sadness in those little eyes that were focusing on Jason, showing a mix of readiness to be kicked out and silent begging to be kept even if just for a moment.

"Meow...." this time the sound coming from the tiny shaggy animal was far more pleading and humble. "meow...." the resignation reverberating from every tone broke Jason;s heart at the spot.

"shhh...." he loosened the grip on the cat and started caressing its fur. "shhh kitty. I won't hurt you. it's okay. You're safe here."

The cat acted caucious for a second. After all this man was shouting at him just a minute ago and now was rubbing its tiny body in all the right places and it was so nice and something the cat didn;t get to experience in a long long time while living on the streets and -

That Jason guy couldn't really be this bad, the cat finally decided allowing himself to enjoy the little bit of caressing and purring softly.

The truth was that this unexpected guest reminded Jason of his own time as a shabby kid forced to fend for himself on the street and searching for scraps of food in the dumpsters and other places. Those memories in comparision of what he had now almost made him tear up and holding the cat was the only way to keep his cool. At this point he was sure he'll keep that fella.

There was just one problem -

"Now kitty I wonder how Y/N will react seeing what yo did with her favourite fish...."

"What is going on here? What's all that noice?" the girl finally showed in the corridor and her eyes grew wide at the scene.

***

Jason was torn between fury at the fact that she had willingly given up the fish he had fought so hard for her, and happiness because he had never seen Y/N smiling wider then when she put the cat on her lap and was running fingers through its fur.

And then it hit him.

She was smiling at the cat.

She was rubbing and caressing the cat.

How does that song go?

Jealousy, Jealousy?

A men's talk was going to take place in this household. Soon.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #christmas bingo

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jtargaryen18 · 1 year

Text

His Inheritance: Chapter 26

Part 26: Duplicity

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.3k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to illegal prescription drug use, firearm use, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

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

Chapter 26

Dark dreams pulled Steve from sleep. It was 3:37 AM according to his phone.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, propping his pillow behind his wife’s back in his place. She was sound asleep and that had him smiling. The night before in the bath had been delicious. He had her again later in bed.

She’d need to sleep in after that.

So much raw emotion welled up in his chest as he watched her. His wife took up a lot of room when she slept, sprawling over the bed at night. Over him. He loved it, especially now that she mostly slept nude as he did. She was beautiful, her radiance and confidence growing by the day.

As he got dressed, he kept stealing glances at her. She’d brought a hell of a lot more than just status into his life. His wife challenged him. She challenged everyone. As delicate as she appeared now, asleep in his bed, she was formidable as a lioness, especially when defending those she cared about.

Steve couldn’t wait to have children with her. How fierce would their sons be? Hell, his daughters would be fierce too. He hoped they looked like her.

Making his way downstairs, thoughts of the family he wanted faded like dreams as he reached his study, returning to reality. Wincing in the light when he flicked it on, he saw the office was just as neat and sterile as it had ever been. Steve always had strict rules about who was allowed in his study, just like his father had.

Those rules didn’t apply to his wife, he realized, who came and went from his center of business as she damn well pleased.

Those memories he loved. Holding her in his chair, spanking her over the desk. Twice. That last one had to led to him just taking her like a beast on that refined wooden surface. It had him stirring just thinking about it. Steve wanted more memories like that. He wanted more.

What would it be like seeing toys littering the floor one day? Or to have little drawings left for him on his desk?

With a deep sigh, he sank heavily into his chair.

Ever since his wife had entered his life, she’d blurred the lines between his personal life and business. Steve walked a fine line between frustration and ecstasy the entire time with her, his need for her so often consuming his thoughts.

In the meantime, everything he thought he had control of was unraveling.

Barnes was coming for him, swiftly and methodically, and he needed to deal with that before he lost respect and credibility in that dark world. The fact that his rival was getting away with hitting his turf made Steve look weak, incompetent. Barnes striking his home, his family’s home, demanded a harsh answer. His leadership of the families would be defined by the decision he made here.

But Steve also needed to protect his family. And hadn’t he done a poor job of that lately? His sister had been severely beaten by her husband and before that Clint had been shot. Hansen’s attack on their home left Belova and Dyson both laid up.

His enemies seemed as obsessed with his wife as he was. If Hansen had gotten his hands on her…

Barnes had more than adequately demonstrated that no one was beyond his reach.

That had to change.

Steve had tried to be diplomatic in calling the meeting with the other family leaders. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Why was he trying to win the other families over when at least one of them was gunning for his?

“Up early, boss?” Luca looked in, making Steve realize he didn’t remember to close the door.

Steve nodded.

The portly cook walked just inside the office door. It was the only time of the day he ever saw the man in a pristine white apron.

“Your father used to do the same thing. Couldn’t sleep the night before. He’d just get up and get started. Always admired that about him.”

Steve snorted. “Probably never found himself in a situation this fucked up.”

“Sure he did,” Luca told him. “Someone challenged him, he hit them hard, and he hit them fast. That’s all. No mercy. No regrets.”

Luca made it sound so easy.

“You got a new consigliere yet?” Luca asked.

Steve nodded. “I’m going with Murdock.”

Luca nodded his approval. “Good choice. We’ll see what he’s made of these next few weeks.”

That was an understatement.

“I’m calling a meeting this evening,” Steve told him. “If I remember right Dyson’s going to get medical tests this morning?”

“That’s right,” the cook said. “Him and Belova both. They should be back from the hospital by this afternoon. We sending Scott with them?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll be here all day. Send Neal.”

Luca nodded, closing the door behind him on the way out of the office.

Steve would spend some time getting his thoughts together. Then, with his crew, they’d decide how best to deal with Barnes.

***

Dyson smiled when she made her way from the exam room back out to the waiting area.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Yelena smiled back. “The CT scan didn’t show any damage. They also did a Brain Trauma Indicator test, but it will be a couple of days before we get the results of that.”

Dyson rose from his chair, and she hoped that meant they were ready to head back to the house. While she took some comfort from the fact that Mrs. Rogers’ husband was there with her – and she had Scott, Luca, and Clint – things were just so tense right now. So dangerous.

She would feel much better once she got back.

Dyson shrugged as they walked out of the office area to head back into the reception area of the hospital. “I’m just old.”

He laughed with her as they found the lobby where there were gift shops, a cafeteria, and an information desk. Neal sat not far from that desk with the paper in his hand. So much for being there to keep her and Dyson safe. He looked like he could really care less.

Neal couldn’t have cared less when Bruce Banner had been about to knock the shit out of her boss. Scott pulled Mrs. Rogers back but that wouldn’t have stopped him. And she was still cursing herself for not hearing the commotion sooner than she did.

Neal noticed the two of them a beat before they reached him. Dyson cleared his throat loudly, telling Yelena he was as unhappy with the soldier as she was.

“Ready to go?” Neal sounded bored.

“Yeah,” Dyson grumbled. “Go get the car, will ya?”

Yelena was hard put not to laugh as Neal glared at him, folding up the paper. His knuckles were white as he gripped that paper and marched toward the exit to do as he was told.

Just as he was walking out the electric doors at the hospital’s entrance, a familiar figure in teal-colored scrubs was walking in. Agnes spotted Yelena in an instant, smiling brightly.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

Of course Neal recognized her, slowing down and glancing over his shoulder to get a good look. He would remember she came to the Rogers’ home. He’d already mentioned thinking she looked familiar. It wouldn’t be hard for him to put the pieces together and figure out why she really came that day.

It was the worst timing imaginable.

Dyson didn’t know either, so she had to fake a smile when Agnes walked up. It wasn’t her fault, and Yelena talked to her for moment. Her ID badge announcing her position as an RN was right there in plain sight.

“Let me know when the lady of the house needs another manicure,” Agnes said, a big wink and then she headed off to work.

Beyond the glass entrance, she could see Neal pulled up to the door in the car. She felt Dyson’s attention on her. She took a step but his hand on his shoulder stayed her.

“That’s the lady you brought to the house to do Mrs. Rogers manicure?” he asked.

Yelena nodded. “She does it as a side hustle,” she tried.

“She’s an RN according to her badge,” Dyson pointed out.

She shrugged, turning to meet his gaze. “So? She does a good job. Mrs. Rogers was happy with how her nails turned out.”

Yelena tried to continue walking. This time Dyson jerked her to a halt.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” he said, dead serious.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Yelena played dumb. She wasn’t counting on it to work but she had to try.

“Yes, you do.” Dyson blew out an exhale.

Yelena shook her head. “Mrs. Rogers is perfectly healthy. What other reason would I have to bring Agnes to the house?”

“To make it so Mrs. Rogers don’t get pregnant,” Dyson said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, my God. Do you know how bad this is?”

Yelena didn’t deny it. But she didn’t drop her gaze. The deed was done now. What did he expect her to say?

“Did she put you up to this?” he asked.

Now her heart slammed on her chest. If she said yes and this went as badly as she suspected it was about to, Yelena would have betrayed Mrs. Rogers. And she couldn’t live with that.

But if she said it was her own idea, and it most definitely was, she jeopardized her own position. And Lloyd was still out there. And Dyson knew it.

“Fuck,” Dyson muttered a little too loudly. “You know Neal recognized your nurse friend, right?”

She wasn’t stupid.

“The trick here is to keep him from telling the boss what he thinks happened here,” Dyson explained. “And he’ll think exactly what I think.”

Now Yelena was seeing red. “I know he’d like nothing better than getting Mrs. Rogers in trouble with her husband.”

She could tell Dyson didn’t expect her to say that, but it was the truth.

“When Banner showed up at the house, the only one protecting her from him was Lang,” she insisted. “I was down there as soon as I heard the commotion. Neal? He would have let Banner have her.”

Now the older man looked appalled. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because he doesn’t like Mrs. Rogers,” Yelena said. “And he doesn’t appear to have her best interests at heart. That puts her in danger because the boss trusts him implicitly.”

“Neal’s earned that,” Dyson replied.

“So much so that the boss should choose him over his own wife?”

Dyson shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned towards the car with Neal watching them from the driver’s seat. “I got to try and get to the boss before Neal does or there will be absolute hell to pay.”

She was all too afraid he was right.

“He’s going to ask if there was a problem,” Dyson instructed her. “When he does, you act pissy. I’ll tell him you didn’t get one of the tests I wanted you to. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sending up every prayer she knew, Yelena followed him out to the car.

***

You made it back to your room, still winded because you’d practiced for nearly two hours today. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you removed your pointe shoes, the band-aids and tape beneath. You winced at the fresh blister forming on the outside of the smallest toe on your left foot.

What you’d planned to wear the rest of the day was already laid out on your bed, you just needed undergarments and socks and you’d be ready to shower. You smiled when you opened the drawer where you kept your intimates to see the satin red thong there that went with the teddy you bought in New York for Valentine’s Day last week.

Well, Steve bought it for you after surprising you in the city when you thought you’d catch holy hell for being out of the house.

What a night that had been. Your heart still fluttered to think about it.

The hum of your phone on your bedside table got your attention. Maybe it was Yelena. You hoped her and Dyson’s medical tests went well.

The text was from Yelena, but it stopped you in your tracks.

I'm so sorry.

You stared at the text message from Yelena on your phone, wondering what the hell that meant. Your heart was sped up as you typed a reply asking if she and Dyson were okay.

You heard voices beyond your window. Peering out, you saw the black Jeep had pulled up, watched your husband climb out and march towards the front door. You hadn’t realized he left the house, but he sure seemed on a mission to return to it.

We are fine. I’m worried about you.

What?

Her next text came a beat later.

Neal figured out who Agnes is.

You froze in place. Holy shit. If Neal knew who Agnes really was, he had an idea of why she came to your house. And if he didn’t figure it out, Steve would.

Telling Steve would be the first thing Neal would do with that information.

Steve’s tread was loud on the stairs, pounding in time with your heart. Steve was coming and you had nowhere to go, no time to prepare.

The door of your shared bedroom flew open, and Steve slammed it behind him, his face flushed from the cold, from anger. His blue-eyed gaze found you fast, and there you stood in leotard, leggings, and bare feet. You were sweaty, tired, with your hair pulled back from your face.

As much of a sweaty mess as you were, your husband looked as well-groomed as always. He peeled off the leather jacket he wore and tossed it over the chair at your vanity. The deep wine of the sweater he wore with jeans emphasized the angry color seeping out of his collar.

Dropping your phone on the edge of your bed, you folded your arms across your chest, bracing yourself for the storm that was coming.

Steve took in your stance. A muscle at his jaw flexed.

“We need to talk,” he said with a tight voice.

You just nodded. What else could you do?

You calm demeanor only seemed to piss him off more.

“Tell me about your manicure a few weeks ago,” Steve demanded, moving closer to the bed.

You held your ground. You didn’t like the way he was trying to set you up.

“I already did,” you said. “You said you liked my nails. Remember?”

His scowl deepened. “What was the woman’s name?”

“Agnes.”

“And was this manicure your idea?” Bitterness crept into his tone.

It was hard to hold your tongue. That question put you on the spot. If you said no, and you were pretty sure you told him Yelena arranged it to lift your spirits, he would get rid of her. And you needed her. As your friend and as a protector.

That meant you had to take the blame. And you weren’t sure you were ready for the consequences of that…

“It was,” you said finally. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was the course you chose.

Steve paused, surprised at your admission. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, just staring at you.

“She did more than your nails.” Steve shook his head. “The injection is good for three months, right?”

Wait. Agnes said that there would be no medical record of the injection. Had she lied to you? Or did he…?

“How do you know it was an injection?” you had to ask.

“Neal paid Agnes a visit at the hospital today.”

Steve knew everything.

“What did Neal do?” You were seeing red now. “Agnes isn’t in this. If he hurt her...”

“Neal warned her,” Steve told you.

Neal was intimidating. The poor woman just came to do you a favor.

“Neal is good at subduing women,” you told him. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he wasn’t so quick to protect me when Banner stormed in this house,” you said. “Scott pulled me away. Yelena saved me.”

“Don’t try to shift the blame for this to Neal,” Steve said. “Neal has proven his loyalty to me.”

“I’m not one of your men,” you shot back. “I’m your wife.”

“And a wife’s duty is to give her husband a family. To take care of that family.” New emotion entered his voice. He wasn’t just angry. “Why? Why would you go behind my back and do this?”

You shook your head, frustration welling up in you fast. Was he serious?

When you didn’t say anything, he charged forward, grabbing your chin in his large hand. His grip hurt as he pulled you to him by your face.

“You know what I want,” he said angrily, his face inches from yours. “Every time I’ve made love to you, I was hoping that was it. That was the one. And it would only be a few weeks after that when you’d be waiting here for me for a different reason. To tell me I was going to be a father.”

When he shoved you away from him hard, you stumbled back. The bed was right behind you, and you tumbled onto the edge of it.

“But here we are,” he growled.

Your own temper flared at that. You were going to be punished for this. You knew that. You weren’t going meekly. You weren’t just handing him a victory like he’d been handed everything else in his goddamn life.

“Here we are,” you said. “And once again, it’s all about what you want. About what you expect.”

“Enough!” he yelled. “This is the part where you remind me that you had no choices. I know. Your father hid you away and then I forced you to marry me. And I’m sorry, I truly am, that he didn’t even try to be a father to you.”

The venom in his voice told you he wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Steve’s fury was palpable, you could feel it coming off him in waves.

“Want to know what I regret?” Steve asked. “I regret that he didn’t try to prepare you for the world. He should have taught you your place.”

You would have agreed with him if you hadn’t been so angry yourself.

“No, he did just what he was supposed to, according to you. He didn’t spend time with my mother, or my brother and I from what I hear. She tried to get us out of your world.”

“She found a lover.” Steve moved closer. “If she hadn’t done that, maybe she and your brother would still be alive.”

Jumping off the end of the bed, you marched forward and slapped him across the face with all your strength. It was satisfying to see his head turn with your blow, but he was quick to recover.

“I wasn’t prepared,” you told him angrily. “I haven’t been married before. I never had a lover before. You’ve had many. You’ve had time to enjoy life and learn what you like, what you want. You’re at a place in life where you want to start a family. I haven’t had that time or experience. What? I was just supposed to spread my legs and pop out babies because that’s what you wanted?”

“You didn’t have a lot of experiences in your life,” Steve pointed out. “I considered it an advantage.”

You snorted. “I’m sure you did.”

“Somehow all of this lack of experiences wasn’t a problem until you married me,” he said.

“Is that what you thought?” you asked. “I’d go from being his hidden little girl to your dutiful wife? That just makes you naïve.”

Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve stared you down. “You might have a point there. I was naïve in just letting you run free in this marriage. Letting you do what you wanted.”

“I’ve asked for so much,” you shot back, sarcasm bleeding into your tone.

“I gave you the bodyguard you wanted,” Steve snapped. “I had to find out she was training you with weapons when Hansen attacked my home. You hid that from me. I allowed it. Now I find out you hid your little contraceptive shot from me. I can’t trust you. What else have you hidden or lied to me about?”

Steve was right. You had hidden things from him.

“What is your problem with starting a family?” he wanted to know. His gaze swept over you. “What else are you going to do? You’re fit. You could probably have children and get right back in shape after.”

“So I’m vain?” you asked.

“Are you?” Steve asked. “You’ll have the best doctors, the best care. You can hire personal trainers if you're worried about your figure. We can hire people to help you with them once they're born. Nannies, tutors. Whatever you want.”

Now you were staring him down. “Don’t you know how that sounds? You want us to be parents and you’re already planning on how to let other people raise them.”

“Excuse me?” That pissed him off.

“I had all of that,” you said. “Nannies, tutors, governesses. What I didn’t have was a good relationship with my father. I didn’t have a mother or a sibling because of your world. I’m not saying I don’t want children one day. But I’d like to reach the point you have where I’ve lived a life and I’m ready for that.”

“Did you ever think of trying to tell me that? I thought we were finally on the same page. That we wanted the same things. You let me believe that,” he said bitterly.

“Would you have listened?” you asked. “And maybe I did let you believe that I could pregnant. But I was afraid. How could I enjoy sex when each time I was worried that would be the one? And I’d be pushed into something I wasn’t ready for. Responsible for a child.”

The hurt showing on his face surprised you. “You enjoyed sex with me because you knew you weren’t going to get pregnant?”

Your heart lurched. You felt like so much was riding on your answer, and you were angry.

But it was truth, damn it. Hiding things was how you got here.

“Yes,” you said slowly. “I would hope you’d understand why. I wasn’t even familiar with sex. I just wanted time.”

“You just wanted to take control away from me.” Steve’s glare made you pause.

“I thought you wanted me to trust you? You said you hoped one day this marriage would be something I needed too.”

“I thought you loved me,” he said with a finality that had fear spiking in you.

Faster than you could blink, Steve snatched your phone off the bed and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. The speed of his movements had you flinching. He noticed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sounding way less confident now.

“Taking control of my household,” he said coldly. “Just like I’m getting ready to take care of business with the families. What do you think I’m doing?”

You swallowed hard. Steve’s gaze on you was assessing. He could read you so easily.

“Thought I’d spank you?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’d enjoy that.”

Humiliation had your face heating up, remember the last one that you’d provoked.

“I should have done this from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” you had to ask.

Steve moved back, putting a distance between you.

“Your injection is good for another four weeks,” he said. “We’ll resume our marriage then.”

What?

“Resume our marriage?” Your voice pitched higher than you would have like. But he caught you off guard. “What does that mean?”

“That means when that shot has reached the end of its efficacy, I’ll be back. Until then, you’ll stay in this room. My men will bring you meals and anything you need for toiletries and supplies. But that’s it.”

Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Your men?” You had to be careful now. “What about Yelena?”

“She’s done,” Steve said curtly. “She’s worked her last day in this house. She just makes you worse.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. It was exactly what you feared.

“You can watch television but I have your phone,” Steve continued. “And your laptop is downstairs.”

And he was cutting you off from the rest of the world, from any support. Tears streamed from your eyes. Some from regret, most from anger. You blinked them back as you considered the weeks ahead.

And what you’d done to Yelena. What if losing this job put her in danger? What if Hansen got to her?

“When I come back, we will get to work on starting a family,” he informed you. “Just maybe you’ll be more grateful by then.”

“Or I’ll hate you.”

Steve shook his head, marching for the door of the bedroom you’d been sharing. “I’ll find another place to sleep in the meantime.”

“I’m sure you will,” you said through your tears. Visions of him with Kat flashed in your mind, threatening to break you.

And with that Steve marched out of the room. You heard the lock turn a beat later.

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#His Inheritance #Mafia AU #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Lloyd Hansen #dark fic

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

Text

Least Valuable Player

He may be the LVP on the court, but at least he's the MVP in your office

Reader has a dick, no pronouns used, is called 'sir' and 'daddy'

Bottom!FTM Steve x Top!Masc!Coach Reader

[Series] [Part Two] AFAB Language Used

CW: Heavy Dub-Con/Non-Con (Up to Interpretation), Slapping, Dom/Sub, Daddy Issues, Dacryphilia, Past & Threatened Abuse, Choking, Manhandling, Spanking, Squirting, Objectification, Rough Sex, Mult. Orgasms, Creampie

📝 1,570 Words

──────────────────

"Coach-" Steve tries to explain himself, why he cost his team the whole game but you stop him, dragging him into your office. The rest of the team thinks you're going to yell at him so they leave the gym, not wanting to hear it for the sake of Steve's dignity.

You slap him harshly. "Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse! We would've won the game if it weren't for you!"

"I'm sorry, okay! Jesus! I didn't do it on fucking purpose!" He's already annoyed by his teammates treating him badly for the last.

You look at him like he's crazy. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

Steve gasps, realizing what he just said. "I'm sorry- please, sir- I didn't mean it!"

You grip his neck, lifting him in the air so that he's making direct eye contact with you. You spit on his face. "Pathetic little bitch." You pull down his shorts and boxers. "You're gonna be here all night taking my cock, got it?"

Steve manages to choke out a 'Yes sir' in response. This has been a thing for a while, roughly fucking and hurting Steve when he does something wrong or just using his body when you feel like it.

The first time, you were only yelling at him for having his head in the clouds during practice. And then he started to cry, the almighty Steve 'the hair' Harrington was crying and trembling from being yelled at.

"Why the hell are you crying? You can't be this weak."

Steve was shaking and sniffling. "My dad...he used to yell at me like this.."

The sight of him crying made you hard. "You probably deserved it and with the way you've been acting lately, I have no choice but to yell at you." You grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants and your boxers, pulling them both down. "I need to teach you a lesson. Hopefully you'll stop screwing up again after I teach you this."

Steve looked down then up at you. "Sir..?" His stomach twisted, an odd feeling he couldn't identify.

"If you don't want to lose your spot on the team, kneel down and suck it."

Steve didn't say a word sank down to his knees, he held your hot length in his hand and sucked on the tip. It was clear he'd never done it before. You couldn't tell if he was doing it because he wanted to or because he needed that spot on the team.

You're still not sure of the answer yourself.

You take your fingers down to his clit, rubbing it and getting him wet. "I wonder if you even feel bad for making the team lose, did you do it on purpose? So you could get fucked afterwords?"

"I didn't-"

You smack his cunt. "You're lucky you didn't ruin the season for us. Count." You spank his cunt again.

"On- one."

You spank his pussy again, then again, and again.

"Se- seve- seven."

You spank him again and his body seizes up, his eyes rolling back as he squirts over the floor. "You better clean that up later."

"Eig- eight. I will- I promise-"

You spank him two more times before throwing his back onto the desk. "I'm feeling kind today, so these bruises might be the last ones you'll receive today." You trace the light bruise on bis cheek and bring your hand down to the red outlines on his neck.

Steve whimpers as your hand glides down to his collar. You pull on it and rip it apart. Steve's glad he's got a few extras.

"You haven't been missing days, right?" You ask, referring to his contraceptives.

Steve shakes his head. "I'm safe.."

"Good. Even if you're becoming the worst on the team, I still can't have you getting pregnant." You pull your pants and boxers down, hard cock making contact with Steve's wet pussy. "How am I supposed to use you if you're knocked up?" You laugh.

Steve looks down and watches as you push your length inside him, it's the same every time but he always seems to focus on it.

You grip his waist, digging your nails into his skin. "You make such a good cocksleeve, you know that?" You groan, making slow but hard thrusts into him. "You never complain and you're always so fucking tight. The perfect little toy."

Steve only moans softly. Your hand wraps around underneath his neck, just below his chin. "Say thank you."

"Th- thank you, da- daddy hhn~" Steve squeezes your length. You rarely give compliments to him, even if the compliment objectifies him, so you're probably in a good mood. He knows he should do anything he can to stay in your good graces. "I'm so- sorry..for ruin- ruining the gh- gam- game.."

"Do it again and I'll beat you harder than ever." You let go of his neck. If it happens a another time, it'll prevent the team from going to nationals. Steve knows you're not being dramatic.

You flip him onto his stomach and rub his ass. "You still need a few more spankings, can't let you think you can get away with everything." You strike his ass once, then twice before fucking him faster and harder.

Steve fills the office with his wanton whines and moans, crying hard as you have your way with him. His ass turns red after a few more spanks.

"Gon- gonna co- co- come~!" He barely manages to say something coherently. He always gets a little, or a lot, out of his mind when you fuck him. He doesn't know his left from his right.

All he knows is the feeling of your thick cock dragging along his walls, your strong hands grabbing him tightly and hitting him harshly, your voice as you degrade him, his own pleasure, and the warm feeling of you pumping your seed into him.

When he's in this state, it's all that matters. It's beyond easy to get him like this, unaware and acting like a whore in heat, he's completely helpless beneath you.

"That's right, come all over your coach's cock like the whore you are." You spank him again, causing him gasp and squirt over the floor (and a bit of your desk) again. "One of the few things you know how to fucking do right."

Steve's head starts to get fuzzy as you carelessly fuck him through and after his orgasm. He babbles something incomprehensible, something in between 'so good' and 'too much'.

You ignore him, not really caring about anything he says anymore. He's a toy after all, his pleasure isn't your concern. "Close-" You mutter.

Your thrusts never slow or stutter as you reach your peak, staying equally as rough and brutal as you fuck your cum into him. "Mmh- Just take it, bitch."

Steve slobbers onto your cheap chair, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Ye- yes da- daddy-" He mewls as your nails dig into his ass and your thrusts finally come to a halt.

You take wrap your arms around his torso and bring him close to you, back flush against your chest. Steve instinctively rests his head on your shoulder as your hands grab his thighs and dig into his soft flesh, nails just a few millimeters away from the previous markings they created.

You only wait a few seconds before fucking him again, the sounds coming from his pussy far more obscene than before.

"Touch your pussy for me, doll." You nibble on his ear.

Steve whimpers, taking a few seconds to register the command and earning a sharp slap to his sex as punishment. His hand shakily moves to his clit, rubbing it the best he can. Steve mumbles something. "...mess.."

You make a good guess as to what the full sentence was supposed to be. Likely that he's going to make a bigger mess. "Not my problem. I'm not the one who has to clean it up." You chuckle.

Steve whines. "Sor- sorry-" He makes a high pitched noise as he feels an almost electric feeling surge through his body. It's even more intense than before. His walls spasm around you, almost as if he's trying to vacuum up the cum that's sloshing inside him. He mewls as he squirts for the third time, adding more to the mess he's going to have to clean up tonight or even tomorrow morning.

He's just thankful it's the weekend.

You fuck him in every position possible and in all three of his holes. Against the door, on the chair, on the floor, everywhere. By the end of it, his ass is red, his voice is hoarse, and he's littered with bites. The marks on his neck are much darker and more obvious.

With one final thrust, you spill inside of him for the last time today. You pull out and slap his twitching cunt. "See you on Monday." You drop your school keys on the desk so he can lock up whenever he leaves.

As athletes, your stamina is better than an average person's but with the way you treat Steve during sex, he always ends up spent by the end of it.

You're cruel enough to leave him in the office half conscious and with cum dripping out of him. He won't know his place if you treat him kindly.

He's just your toy, nothing more.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dark content #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader #sub steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #bottom steve harrington #stranger things x male reader #🕯️steve #🕯️stranger things

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bultaoreunheyyy · 19 days

Text

It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2)

Title: It’s not a mountain, it’s a butte (1/2)

Word Count: 5451

Summary: Jungkook loves hiking. He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. It does not go quite as planned.

Sickie: Jungkook (snz, allergies, asthma)

Caretakers: OT7

A/N: This got a bit long, so I split it into 3 chapters. I'll probably post the other chapters sometime next week. This first one is the main story and fulfills this request, but I couldn't resists adding on the aftermath of Jungkook's allergy/asthma attack and the aftercare and then the after after care of the next day too, lol. Also, this is completely unedited and likely full of typos and grammatical errors per usual.

Jungkook lowkey hates springtime.

Overall, spring is actually his second favorite season because of the milder temperatures. His first favorite season by far is winter, because hot weather sucks and cold weather is where he belongs to his very core.

Spring, however, usually means allergies. Lots and lots of allergies. Itchy, sniffly, sneezy allergies. Jungkook’s body unfortunately did not get the memo that other bodies get and so on top of allergies, he also has asthma, which of course is always the worst for him in the springtime.

On this particular spring Saturday morning, he wakes up with puffy eyes and a stuffy nose. It’s pretty typical for this time of year, and he’s usually not so cheerful upon waking when he has to immediately sneeze before he even fully has his eyes open, but this morning he doesn’t give a shit because it’s hiking day.

Jungkook loves hiking.

He absolutely loves being in nature– even if nature does not love him back. And today, on a very rare occasion, all six of his best friends are joining him for a short hike that he’s been planning for months. He’s very excited for hiking day.

With a mildly irritated sigh, Jungkook pulls the comforter completely over his head, sneezes six times in a row, and sniffs sharply to chase away the tickle that will be returning as soon as he lets his guard down and then remain in his sinuses for the rest of the day.

When he resurfaces he finds two faces staring down at him.

“Morning,” he says with a cheerful smile and a soft sniffle.

“Good morning, and bless you!” Jimin responds.

“Good morning!” Taehyung says. “We thought we would have to wake you up.”

“Nope!” Jungkook replies. He cups a hand over his mouth and nose and sneezes once more, his whole body shaking. “I’m up. It’s hiking day!” He pauses, hand still over his lower face, anticipating another sneeze that never comes. After a minute he shakes his head and scrubs hard at his nose with a sleepy, irritated groan.

Both Jimin and Taehyung, looking more than half-asleep themselves, lean down at the same time– Jimin on his left and Taehyung on his right– to pat him on the chest sympathetically.

“Don’t forget to take your allergy pill,” Jimin reminds him. “Did you pack your inhaler last night?”

Jungkook glances towards his nightstand where his inhaler is. “Yep.”

Taehyung pokes him in the belly. “Well, get up, then. You made us all wake up at the asscrack of dawn so this better be worth it. Let’s go hike your mountain.”

“It’s a butte,” Jungkook corrects him, but Taehyung is already leaving the room, yawning so widely his jaw cracks.

“I need coffee,” Jimin says, also yawning, and he trails behind Taehyung.

Despite his excitement, Jungkook is the last to be ready, and when he gets to the living room everyone else is lounging about.

“Let’s go!” He practically shouts, urging them all out the door. “It’s hiking day!”

“Does the whole street have to know?” Yoongi grumbles, making a face as Jungkook pushes a set of keys into his palm. Even though he’s making a show of being grumpy, he’s the only one Jungkook trusts besides himself to drive at such an early hour.

The seven of them take two cars to the trail, arriving before the sun rises. There’s a slight chill to the morning air, but the skies are clear and it’s already the start of a beautiful day weather wise.

Jungkook gets out of the car and reaches his arms up high above his head, leaning to one side and then the other and moaning loudly at the stretch. He’s wearing tight black spandex shorts and a black hoodie that’s halfway to being a crop top, and Taehyung pokes at his exposed stomach with a smirk.

“We might see some deer if we’re quiet enough,” Jungkook announces, ignoring Taehyung. He pulls a camera from his backpack and hangs the strap around his neck. After he shoulders his backpack, he turns towards the trailhead. “Ahhh,” he says with a noisy exhale that he follows with a long, deep breath in through his nose. “Smell that? That’s the beautiful smell of nature.”

He sneezes immediately afterwards.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison.

“Did you take your allergy pill?” Yoongi asks.

“I take it every morning,” Jungkook responds. “Did you take your brain pill?”

Yoongi flips him off and mimics, “I take it every morning.”

“Only because I have to remind you,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

Taehyung yawns and plasters himself against Jimin’s back, snaking his arms around his waist and tucking his hands into Jimin’s hoodie pocket. “I can only smell Jimin’s coffee breath.”

Jimin, still half asleep, only pouts.

Jungkook sneezes, again.

“Bless you,” Hoseok and Namjoon say in unison, again.

“Doesn’t seem like you took your allergy pill,” Yoongi grumbles. “At least tell me you brought your inhaler.”

Ignoring him, Jungkook bends down to check that his black hiking boots are laced up properly. He adjusts his backpack, stretches his calves for all of ten seconds, and straightens his posture.

“Let’s hike this butte,” he says cheerfully, and then he takes off at a light jog, disappearing down the trail and leaving them all behind.

When they catch up to him, Jungkook has his camera raised to his face and he’s squatting by the base of a pine tree, looking at the ground.

“What are you taking a picture of?” Taehyung wonders. “A worm?”

“Caterpillar,” Jungkook murmurs. “See? Right there.”

Taehyung pats him on the shoulder in a way that indicates that he does not in fact see the caterpillar. “It’s a very nice caterpillar,” he says anyway.

The hike Jungkook has chosen isn’t too long nor too strenuous of a hike– only 7 kilometers or so of a well established trail– and they get a beautiful view of the sun rising when they start their hike in earnest, climbing up the east side of the butte.

Although he’d started off at a fast pace, Jungkook isn’t feeling particularly competitive today, and because he has his camera he chooses to take his time watching wildlife and taking pictures of every bird and plant he sees along the way.

Namjoon leads the group instead, long legs carrying him far very quickly. Jimin has the shortest stride but he’s the second most competitive of the group behind Jungkook, and so he falls into pace right next to Namjoon. Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok stay in the middle of the pack, their pace a bit more average.

Seokjin falls back and keeps Jungkook company in the rear. He watches fondly as Jungkook gushes over the beauty in nature and patiently listens when Jungkook explains the different species of birds they see on the trail.

“Do you think we’ll see any deer?” Jungkook asks Seokjin, scanning the hillside hopefully.

“Maybe,” Seokjin replies. “Are there usually deer on this mountain?”

“It’s not a mountain,” Jungkook whispers as a curious chipmunk peeks out at them from behind a fern. “It’s a butte.”

Jungkook and Seokjin continue up the steepest part of the path until it evens out in elevation, stopping every so often so Jungkook can take his pictures, and they’re the last to reach the summit. There’s a small lookout with a view of the surrounding mountains and the other five are all crammed onto the one single bench there, eating snacks.

“Look,” Hoseok says around a mouthful of trail mix. He points at the ground where Jungkook and Seokjin are standing. “There’s a compass on the ground. It shows what mountains are in the distance, too.”

Jungkook already knows this. He’s been up hiking here before. He’s about to look down at it when Seokjin covers his eyes from behind.

“Guess which way is north?” he says, chuckling in Jungkook’s ear.

“Fuck off,” he says, shrugging Seokjin off, because he’s shit at directions and has absolutely no idea which direction north is.

Hoseok and Jimin nearly fall off the bench from laughing so hard.

Jungkook flips them off and then walks to the lookout point, cheeks flushed in sudden embarrassment. He lifts his camera to hide his face and marvels at the beautiful early morning view. He can hear Seokjin join the others on the bench– if Yoongi’s complaints of getting squished are anything to go off– and he can’t stay mad for long when he hears their chatter and joyful laughter.

He turns and snaps a picture just as Seokjin is shoving a massive handful of trail mix into his mouth.

“That’s hot,” he smirks, and this time Seokjin is flipping him off.

They stay up at the summit for about fifteen minutes before Jungkook is itching to get moving again. He takes a long drink from his water bottle and shoves it back into his backpack. Even though it’s still a bit chilly, he peels off his hoodie and ties it around his waist, snaps one more picture of the group sitting on the bench, and then starts the descent knowing they’ll all follow quickly once they realize he’s leaving.

Jungkook smiles when he remembers there’s a meadow just on the other side, full of beautiful wildflowers that he can’t wait to photograph. Sure enough, he doesn’t have to go very far down the trail before he spots the colorful field ahead of him.

“Hey,” Seokjin says, catching up to him. “Wait up!”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mumbles, but there’s no real heat behind it.

He hears Seokjin’s pace quicken behind him and slows down a little. His eyes are starting to itch and he scrunches up his face, trying not to rub at them. His nose is starting to itch, too.

Seokjin peers at Jungkook, taking in the irritation he can see on his face. “Oh, come on,” he says. “I was just teasing about the direction thing. Don’t be grumpy with me.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Jungkook gives in and digs his fist into his eye.

“Okay,” Seokjin says, sounding unconvinced.

Jungkook rubs at his nose, and then sniffles, and then nearly stumbles a step when his nose prickles sharply, bringing a few tears to his eyes.

And then he sneezes.

It’s not just any sneeze. It’s harsh, quick and forceful and so itchy sounding that Seokjin winces.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond. He’s bent at the waist, sneezing again. The irritation makes him cough afterward, and he feels Seokjin’s hand on his upper arm, like he’s getting ready to steady him if needed.

When he straightens, his eyes and nose are streaming and his eyes are still itchy as fuck.

“You okay?” Seokjin repeats. He’s biting his lower lip.

Jungkook rubs at his eyes with his fists. “Yep. I’m fine.”

At this point, the others have caught up to them.

“Was that Jungkook sneezing?” Jimin asks, pulling a small packet of tissues from his pocket of his sweatpants. “Here.”

Jungkook accepts the tissues, but he doesn’t have time to get one out before he has to sneeze again, another harsh expulsion that has him bending at the waist.

Jimin rolls his eyes in amusement and takes the unused tissue pack back, opening the plastic and pulling several tissues out before passing them to Jungkook. They all know by the sound that it’s not just a regular sneeze– it’s very clearly the start of an allergy attack. Jungkook thinks about how often they all like to comment on his sneezing, which apparently sounds different depending on what’s making him sneeze. To him, it all just sounds like sneezing. Instead of going off the sound, he goes off the feeling, and the current feeling is an unbearably itchy allergy attack that’s going to have him sneezing his head off for the rest of the hike, probably.

Fuck springtime.

While Jungkook blows his nose, Yoongi digs through his backpack and locates Jungkook’s epi pen, extra inhaler, allergy medication and more tissues.

“Holy shit, Yoongi,” Jungkook laughs. He scrubs the wad of tissues in his hand under his nose back and forth several times until the undersides of his nostrils are bright pink. “I actually did my meds this morning.”

“When are you due for more?”

“I’m fine.” Jungkook says instead of answering. He tucks the used tissues into his pocket. “I can breathe. I’m just a little itchy.”

Hoseok watches him rubbing his eyes again with a frown. “Yeah, we can see that. Quit rubbing your face.”

Jungkook sneezes again and does not quit rubbing his face.

Namjoon sighs and pats his shoulder. “Why did you plan your hike by all these flowers?” He asks, gesturing at the meadow. “There are so many. Damn.”

Jungkook starts to answer, but he’s hit with another sharp prickle in his sinuses. He holds up a finger, sucks in a massive breath, and then sneezes loudly four times in a row.

“Uh, pretty sure you just scared all the deer away,” Seokjin teases, smiling a little before going back to chewing on his bottom lip.

Jimin pulls more tissues out of the pack and hands them to Jungkook. “Bless you!”

“Jimin, you’re a lifesaver with these tissues,” Jungkook says with a sniffle. His nose is drippy now and he can feel the next sneeze approaching fast. “C’mon, let’s start heading back to the car. There might be deer closer to the trailhead.”

“Wait! Don’t you want to take a moment and–”

Whatever Yoongi’s saying, Jungkook doesn’t catch the end of it. He’s scanning the meadow for deer and wondering how close he can get to the pretty wildflowers without throwing himself into an asthma attack on top of everything. He might already be heading for an asthma attack, with the way his chest is starting to feel, but they’re already halfway through the short hike and he has his own inhaler in his backpack in addition to the one Yoongi apparently thought to bring along.

In the end, he decides to take pictures of the flowers as he walks and doesn’t stray from the trail even an inch. Namjoon and Seokjin take the lead once they catch up, but they don’t let themselves get too far ahead, and Jungkook notices them glancing back over their shoulders every time he sneezes.

Jimin, his sweet angel of a friend, sticks close and keeps handing him tissues. Hoseok blesses him from behind so frequently that eventually, Jungkook stops and turns around.

“Seok,” he says, and wow he sounds like shit. He clears his throat and holds up a tissue. “You don’t have to say bless you every single time.”

Hoseok blushes. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

Jungkook rips the tissue in half and shoves one half up his right nostril, then the other half up his left. “There,” he says, sounding even more stuffed-up and ridiculous. “This will hold off the sneezing for a bit.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow skeptically but doesn’t say anything.

“That’s…kind of gross, but okay,” Jimin tells him. He stays close by with tissues at the ready anyway.

They all start walking again. The tissue stuffed up his nose does keep the sneezing at bay, but only for about ten minutes. In that time, they descend past the meadow and get back to the treeline, where Jungkook spots a woodpecker and spends a good few minutes photographing it.

“That’s a nice bird,” Taehyung says, reaching up to thread his fingers through the hair at Jungkook’s nape. “You sure you can breathe okay like that?”

Jungkook sniffs hard in response, which turns out to be a mistake since there’s still a half a tissue stuffed up each of his nostrils. The intake of air pulls the tissues further up his nose and sets off an intense tickle that makes him snort and then cough.

It’s not his smartest moment.

He reaches up and tugs the pieces of tissue out of his nose, and he’s pretty sure Jimin gags next to him at the sight, but he doesn’t really hear him because doing so only makes the tickle so, so much worse. He finds himself suddenly trapped in between sneezing and not sneezing, his lungs forcing him to suck in air and his nose twitching in irritation but not quite completing the job. It’s torturous and it lasts for what feels like hours, but in reality is probably only twelve seconds before he hears the crinkle of plastic next to his ear.

“Try blowing your nose,” Jimin suggests, and Jungkook forces his eyes open so he can see. He takes the tissue that Jimin’s offering and cups it over his nose.

“Jungkook,” he hears Jimin say after a moment. “You gotta try blowing your nose. Or sneeze, or something.”

He’s vaguely aware that he’s still standing there in sneezy limbo, mouth wide open and nostrils flaring, but he can’t do anything because his sinuses are on fire and his breath keeps catching with nowhere to go and the tickle is spreading to the back of his throat and he’s still not sneezing.

He feels something swipe beneath his eyes to catch the irritated tears– Jimin’s fingers– and then a hand covers his hand around the tissue and squeezes lightly.

As soon as the air is cut off to his nostrils, Jungkook sighs in relief, the tension draining from his body, and as soon as Jimin lets go of his hand, he sneezes explosively.

“Bless you!” Hoseok chirps.

“Bless you,” Jimin says. He passes another tissue over.

“Fuck, shit,” Jungkook grunts out, coughing a few times.

Taehyung squeezes the back of his neck.

Hoseok and Yoongi are looking at each other, communicating silently with each other in their own secret language that only they speak, but that Jungkook can understand perfectly– they’re debating whether or not to ask him if he wants to take his inhaler. Jungkook can tell by the way they’re staring into each other's eyes and frowning, and also by the way that Yoongi is cradling Jungkook’s inhaler in his palm.

“So, that sucked,” Jungkook croaks out. He coughs a few more times. “Please never let me put tissues up my nose again.”

“Gladly,” Jimin responds with a grimace.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, rubbing his eyes as he starts walking down the trail again. “I don’t want Joon and Seokjin to see a deer without me.”

“That would be tragic,” Taehyung agrees, following behind.

Jungkook’s sinuses and lungs are starting to ache, and his eyes are so itchy he can’t keep himself from rubbing at them every minute or so, but he’s still in good spirits as they take a switchback and finally get the final, glorious view for the last part of their hike.

Jungkook lifts his camera and snaps about ten pictures. He uses his viewfinder to spot Namjoon and Seokjin below, not too far ahead of them on the trail, and takes a picture of them too.

Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi stop behind him as he takes pictures and drink from their water bottles.

“Why does going downhill hurt my knees so much?” Yoongi complains.

“It’s because you’re old,” Taehyung retorts.

Hoseok and Jimin fall into each other with laughter, and Jungkook shushes them. “Shh, you’ll scare the deer away!”

It doesn’t matter how loud they’re laughing, though, because in the next moment a tickle flares in Jungkook’s sinuses and he has to sneeze. The sneeze rings out through the air, and it’s followed by a second sneeze, and then a third, the itch spreading again in a way that only his allergies can do. He reaches up and scrubs hard at his nose, but it does nothing to stop the tickle nor the resulting sneezes, one right after the other without much of a chance to breathe in between.

“Bless you,” Hoseok says after about seven or eight sneezes.

Jungkook shakes his head, swipes the back of his hand over his streaming eyes, and then cups both hands over his mouth and nose and keeps on sneezing. He sneezes so many times in a row that he grows dizzy, head spinning when he tries to open his eyes. He instinctively reaches out and grabs on to the thing nearest to him, which happens to be Jimin’s arm.

“Woah, Kook–? What’s wrong?”

Jungkook can only dig his fingers into Jimin’s arm as another fit of sneezes takes him over.

“Sit down for a sec,” Hoseok says in his ear, helping to guide him to the ground as he sniffles and blinks against the spots in his vision.

Once he’s sitting on the ground, he feels Jimin take his hand, press a handful of tissues against his palm, and then help lift his arm back up to his face.

“Blow,” he says, waiting until Jungkook gets the tissues to his nose before he reaches over and slides Jungkook’s backpack off his shoulders for him.

Jungkook sneezes into his wad of tissues. And sneezes some more. And then sneezes about ten more times for good measure, and not a single sneeze does anything to relieve the maddening tickle in the back of his nose and throat. He pauses to suck in a greedy breath of air, cough harshly, and then sneezes twice more before he can finally stop. The tissues in his hand are soaked through and are practically useless by the time he tries to blow his nose, but he does it anyway, snorting air out of his nostrils forcefully and shuddering at the awful, raw feeling he always has post sneezing fit.

“Bless you!” Jimin and Hoseok exclaim at the same time as soon as it’s apparent that Jungkook is done sneezing for the time being.

Seokjin and Namjoon are squatting down in front of him.

“You’re both going to get permanent wrinkles from frowning so hard,” Jungkook tells them. His voice is nearly gone.

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh and stands up. He offers a hand out to Jungkook, helping him up off the ground. Jungkook hops up and brushes the dirt off his ass, then turns to Jimin.

“Please tell me there are more tissues.”

Jimin holds up another unopened pack of tissues. “So many more tissues. Take all you need.”

Jungkook grabs his backpack from the ground and opens the front pocket so he can shove all the used tissues inside, emptying out his pockets as well. He finishes off the rest of his water, shoulders his backpack, and gratefully takes the pack of tissues from Jimin.

“Need your inhaler before we keep going?” Yoongi asks. He cups a hand under Jungkook’s chin and gently tilts his head back, eyes narrowed as he inspects the puffiness around his eyes and nose.

“Your nose is so red,” Taehyung comments, poking the tip of Jungkook’s nose with a grin.

Jungkook squirms under their gaze.

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely.

Taehyung reaches over and pulls the collar of Jungkook’s t-shirt from his neck.

“I’m not going to get a rash!” He nudges Taehyung’s hand away just in time to get his own hand up to his face, sneezing against the back of his wrist once. “I’m really fine,” he tries to reassure everyone, even as his breath hitches in preparation for yet another sneeze. “Honestly, I’m just really sneezy right now.”

“You’re sneezier than I’ve ever seen you before,” Seokjin agrees.

“I hope I didn’t scare all the deer away,” Jungkook pouts.

Hoseok hooks his arm through Jungkook’s and gives him an optimistic smile. “If you did, we’ll just come back some other time.”

They start walking again, this time sticking together as a group. Jungkook carries his own tissues this time, though his sneezes have gotten smaller and stuffier and he stops trying to cover them up after a while. Soon, he’ll be too stuffed up to sneeze properly and it will hurt– he can already feel his sinuses throbbing.

He has to stop walking again not five minutes later, annoyed about having to pause every three steps to sneeze. Despite the increase in frequency of sneezes, he’s getting very little relief from sneezing so much– his whole face just feels too itchy and he knows it’s only going to keep growing worse until he can get back home and shower. After a fit of sneezes that lasts too long for him to count, making him have to stop on the trail for a good several minutes, he turns to Yoongi.

“You happen to have eye drops in that bag?”

Yoongi does in fact have eye drops, and Jungkook takes the bottle as fast as he can because Yoongi looks like he’s a second away from putting them in Jungkook’s eyes himself. After, he unzips his own backpack and pulls out his inhaler to take a hit.

“Preventative measure,” he croaks out before Yoongi can say anything.

Suddenly, Taehyung gasps and they all startle.

“What?” Hoseok squeaks.

Taeyhung is pointing just over Jungkook’s shoulder. “Kook, look at that butterfly!”

Jungkook turns and looks to where Taehyung is pointing, a grin spreading over his entire face when he sees one of the biggest monarch butterflies he’s even seen before, fluttering so close he could probably reach out and touch it. He lifts his camera, snaps a couple of pictures, and then turns to Taehyung.

“Good spot!”

Taehyung puffs up his chest, proud of himself.

Jungkook’s nose twitches. His smile fades, his breath hitching erratically. “Fuck,” he pants out breathlessly before sneezing harshly. When he looks up, six mouths are frowning at him. “Sorry,” he rasps, suddenly feeling upset. “I don’t…” He trails off, unsure of what to say, but Yoongi immediately grabs his hand.

“No apologizing,” he says firmly. “Let’s get you back to the car, hm? Do you want Namjoon to give you a piggyback ride?”

“Hey!” Namjoon protests halfheartedly. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“I would take up that offer in a second if there wasn’t the risk of me sneezing in your hair the whole way back,” Jungkook chuckles.

“I appreciate that,” Namjoon says with a grin.

As soon as the parking lot is in view, Jungkook launches into another seemingly endless sneezing fit.

He stifles each sneeze into his hand, trying to hold them back as best as he can so they can make it back to the cars. It’s a difficult feat– his sneezes, especially his allergy sneezes, are strong and not at all easy to contain– but it makes it so he can keep walking and sneeze at the same time. One of the downsides, however, is that as soon as he starts stifling, he also starts to wheeze slightly, and it only takes a couple of minutes for everyone else to hear it.

“No, no,” Yoongi scolds when he realizes what Jungkook is doing. “Do not hold them back like that. Shit, Kookie, what are you thinking?” Then, a little softer, he adds knowingly, “Really, just let them out, baby. We’ll help you get back to the car.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at the pet name, but doesn’t say anything.

He feels Namjoon cup the back of his neck. “We’re almost there, Koo.”

Jungkook slows his pace just a little. Now his friends are breaking out the pet names and the gentle touches, which means they are officially worried about him and they’re going to be openly babying him like they’ve been wanting to this entire time.

Not that he cares, in this moment, because now that he’s not allowed to hold back his sneezing, he has to fully stop walking every time he sneezes.

One step. A harsh, ticklish sneeze that sucks the energy out of him and makes his eyes water. And before he’s taking the next step, he’s already building up to the next sneeze, sucking a trembling breath in, in, in– before he explodes. And then it repeats.

Jungkook feels a soft grip on his upper arm. Jimin is on his right and Hoseok is on his left, and at first they’re just trying to gently guide him along, but he’s sneezing so helplessly that eventually they each hook and arm through his elbows, and start nudging him a little more firmly down the trail. He trusts them to get him back to the car and not let him trip.

“Here, love,” Jimin says, holding a tissue to his nose for him.

Another pet name. Jungkook feels his face heat up. His nose is running profusely, though, so he doesn’t really have room to refuse the help.

“Don’t know why I can’t stop sneezing,” he mumbles congestedly, his breath rushing out in a wheezy exhale before he promptly sneezes again.

Jimin and Hoseok guide him to a bench near the trailhead to sit down, even though they can literally see their cars from the spot. Jungkook slumps against whoever is sitting next to him– Hoseok, he’s pretty sure, and closes his eyes tiredly.

“Poor thing,” Taehyung murmurs. “You sound so miserable and itchy.”

“Should we try to let him ride out the sneezing first?” He hears Seokjin say. “It seems like it’s slowing down, right?”

Namjoon voices his agreement and Jungkook hopes he’s right, because he honestly can’t tell at this point.

Yoongi keeps a hand on his back, rubbing lightly between his shoulder blades, standing behind the bench. Jimin sits to his right and holds tissues for him, which would embarrass Jungkook on most days, but in this moment he tolerates simply because he’s so fucking itchy and he can hardly see past the irritated tears that won’t quit– not to mention the fact that his nose is a drippy faucet now.

Hoseok sits to his left and keeps a grounding hand on his thigh, allowing Jungkook to lean on him. The others hover and give him sips of water every so often, petting his hair and squeezing his shoulders, offering encouragement after every sneeze.

Jungkook does eventually slow down on the sneezing, enough that he can actually tell he’s slowing down, but as the sneezing dies down a growing sense of irritation and embarrassment replace it.

He also might be the tiniest bit grumpy, because hiking day did not go as he planned at all.

Fuck springtime.

He huffs out a wheezy breath. “Sorry I ruined the hike,” he rasps, crossing his arms and frowning.

Yoongi holds his inhaler out. “What did I say about apologizing?”

Jungkook snatches the tissues that Jimin is holding and pulls several out of the pack, pressing the bundle to his nose. He stifles a tired sneeze, coughs, and then closes his eyes. “Well. I’m still sorry.”

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok says, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, and Jungkook lets himself be tugged against his chest.

He feels tears welling up in his eyes and keeps them squeezed shut, not willing to let them fall. He jams the tissues under his nose, stifles two more sneezes, and then pinches his nose shut so no more can escape.

Jungkook, not at all pouting and definitely not crying, rests his head on Hoseok’s chest and only his stuffy breathing fills the still-early morning air. For a moment, they’re all quiet, listening to Jungkook breathe. As soon as he feels like he has his tears under control, Jungkook squints one eye open, glancing between everyone to get a read on their expressions, and feeling relief when he doesn’t see any disappointment on any of their faces. He blinks a few times to clear any remaining tears, looks towards the parking lot to determine how much farther they have left to go, and then freezes.

Suddenly, Jungkook snorts, which results in a soft sneeze, and then full-on giggles, because he absolutely cannot believe his eyes.

“What?” Namjoon asks, whipping his head around to look at Jungkook.

“Are you laughing?”

“Kookie, baby, are you okay?”

They follow his finger when he points away from them and see a deer in the distance, standing so still it looks fake, staring directly at them.

“See? I didn’t scare all the deer away,” he croaks out.

“The fuck, Jungkook?” Seokjin yells. “Don’t joke about deer at a time like this!”

Jungkook stands and coughs hoarsely into his fist. The deer is still unmoving despite Seokjin’s loud voice, but he wants to get a picture of it before it runs away. He raises his camera, snaps a picture, and then lets his camera fall back against his chest just in time to cup both hands over his mouth and nose and sneeze mightily.

The deer bolts. Jungkook swipes his wrist under his nose and turns to Seokjin.

“At a time like what?”

With that, Jungkook turns and strolls back toward the cars, leaving his friends in stunned silence behind him.

Read Chapter 2 HERE

#chaptered fic #bts sickfic #sickfic #bts snz #sick jungkook #allergic jungkook #allergy fic #asthma fic #jungkook snz #bts hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #caretaker seokjin #caretaker yoongi #caretaker jimin #caretaker taehyung #caretaker namjoon #caretaker hoseok

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beauty-and-passion · 1 month

Text

Tackling The Magnus Archives

I hope you’re satisfied, TMA fandom.

For a lot of time, I’ve seen this fandom everywhere: posts, fanarts, even more fanarts, people mentioning scary stuff and an overall positive reaction about this series.

At first, I didn’t pay it any attention. It seemed just like any other series, with nothing exceptional about it. But the more time passed, the more fanarts I saw, the more they got my interest. I still had no idea what the series was about, but it looked interesting. Maybe there was something I didn’t notice before.

So… why not give it a try?

Cool, what’s the plan?

From the moment I decided to give this series a try, I ran away from all spoilers. That means I am currently facing a series I have no idea what will be about. I know nothing about the plot, nor the characters.

Well, nothing except for a few things I accidentally learned before:

Jonathan Sims is the protagonist. I think?

There is a Michael somewhere

Also, a Martin doing stuff

There are a lot of names

And a library

I’ve also seen a spider lady

Someone explores a dungeon? Is there a dungeon in this story?

There is a homoerotic story too

I also recently found out there is a season 2 - or a related series? No idea what the plot is about, but we will find out along the road.

How?

I had two choices: to analyze every single episode (and die of old age because it would take an eternity) or listen to the whole series first, then write one/several posts analyzing it. But it would still take a lot of time and I will inevitably forget a lot of stuff or don’t cover things as well as they deserve.

So, I chose a third option: to tackle the series ten episodes at a time and write a post with my impressions about all of them. (a bit like I do for Eurovision, only for TMA). This way:

I’ll cover every episode

I will remember more stuff

I will post constantly, so you won’t have to wait forever for me to finish the whole thing first

It will be funnier and more entertaining

Is there something we should/shouldn’t do?

I want my impressions and comments to be as genuine as possible, but in order to do that, I shouldn’t know anything about what I will read.

That means I will actively avoid every little information about the series. It doesn’t matter if it’s about harmless or well-known info: I won’t read it, period.

So please, do not write me anything about this series. I will not read any ask regarding TMA. You can still ask me stuff and write comments, sure. And you can put spoilers if you want, but please: be kind and put a big warning before them. Do not spoil the fun.

What’s the timeline?

Asap: I will write a new post and add it to the main masterlist. This new post will seve as masterlist for TMA and include this introductory post, as well as all other reactions. So If you ever miss one of them, you will read all of them there.

In the next couple days: it will come out the first post with my reactions about chapters 1-10. I’m already working on it, so it should come out very soon.

I will try to keep up a consistent schedule, but can’t promise you anything. I am preparing two exams and my final thesis too, so it might take me some time to post. But I will end this series. By now, you know that when I start something, I finish it.

In conclusion

Thank you in advance to all the people who will follow me in this adventure. If you already know about TMA, you can have fun, by mocking me for my ignorance or wait for the moment I will face the real shit. If you don’t know about TMA, maybe you will find the inspiration to start it - or to do it with me. It’ll be fun! And even if the series ends up being bad, at least we can laugh together at how terrible it is.

See you very soon with the first post about chapters 1-10.

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl@allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia@whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire

@riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads

@dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing

@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims

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j0kers-light · 7 months

Note

Imagine y/n shows up to joker wearing a playboy bunny suit and ears and fluffy tail with rope in her hands.

I’m squealing just thinking about it.

His Lighthouse: Joker’s Bunny (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Joker’s Bunny - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Hey hi anon 🖤✨

I love love loved this imagine! I can’t believe tumblr had the audacity to delete it! It’s been sitting in the inbox since August 7th! Yay for refreshing?

Anyhooooooo I’ve been merging asks to dwindle the numbers down and I came across one that…. well.. It’s not my cup of tea. BUT! If it's up your alley (lol no pun intended) it's implied. I’ll mark it with an ** and let you figure it out. I do regret to inform that this is rather short because I love to tease. I will return to this idea later 😏

I won’t add a tag list until I complete this oneshot!

It was only supposed to be a nickname, an inside joke to use however Joker seemed fit. He gave you so many, it was hard to keep up with them all— yet this one stuck.

You were naturally curious, a timid little thing and overly cautious.

You always weighed out the options presented to you before jumping all in. Joker said it as a joke all those months ago but overtime, it became something more. One could argue that you adopted the moniker.

You responded to it without fuss and rarely rolled your eyes or huffed under your breath whenever he used it.

You would tilt your head and scrunch your nose to really bring the nickname to life. One random day you found yourself accepting the name when you used the emoji to refer to yourself.

You were without a doubt, Joker’s Bunny. He never thought you would take the title so seriously.

Joker groaned to himself.

Whhhhhy didn’t he stay with you tonight? You practically begged him to with those e/c eyes of yours but he stood firm on his ‘I have to go, it's im-port-ant’ spiel.

You pouted but sent him off with a kiss. Now Joker regretted his decision as each boring minute dragged on during this briefing. To be fair, it was important. Too bad Joker wasn’t listening. He spent his time staring off into space. daydreaming about you.

He wondered what you cooked tonight. Was it that new recipe you wanted to try or did you play it safe and fix one of his favorites? He loved your cooking and could go for a hearty meal after sitting through this snoozefest.

His thoughts were plenty and quickly changed. Did you take a bubble bath with that new bath bomb he bought you? Joker saw it in passing and immediately thought of you after seeing its onyx and opal swirls in the store.

If he remembered correctly it was called Night Sky and smelled like forbidden fruits. It had your name written all over it. So what if he stole a few for you?

Joker was envisioning your body soaking in the tinted water when his phone chiming startled him out of the fantasy.

He fished it out of his coat pocket and arched an eyebrow when he saw your message come through. Speak of an angel and you appear.

you coming home?

J smirked to himself after reading the word home.

It stirred up a flurry of emotions within him every time you used it. Joker thought he had no need for a home until you entered his life and proved him wrong. Every person needs a home; his just so happened to be you.

And Joker was feeling a bit homesick.

He found your message a bit odd since you knew he was overseeing a meeting tonight. Did something happen or were you just as needy as he was? He really should’ve stayed at home with you in the first place. Joker sighed and scanned the room.

The team was talking amongst themselves on how to pull off the hit without gaining the authorities’ attention. Joker drowned them out thirty minutes ago. He was only here for appearance’s sake and could care less.

They could iron out the details without him and that became the determining factor to answer your question. With a roll of his green eyes, he replied.

What’s in it 4 me?

Joker watched three tiny dots appear and fade multiple times over a course of several minutes. Whatever you wanted to say was deleted over and over until Joker finally got a vague response.

Come and find out 🐰

Such a sassy little thing you were tonight. A few seconds later, Joker received an attachment pic from you. He took one glance at it and reacted.

“Oi! Where you going, Boss?” A henchman called out.

Joker was already storming out the door to even notice that he scared everyone with his abrupt exit.

They were waiting for Joker to voice his opinion and he just up and left. Not like he cared. The small group however began to panic and scrambled to find a way to revise the plans to meet Joker’s high expectations.

They could all die trying to rob the bank for all he cared. Joker’s mind was elsewhere, solely on you.

His Bunny was asking for it.

It was the only explanation as to why the dying sun captured your sexy silhouette oh so perfectly. When Joker got home, he was gonna ruin you.

Joker didn’t notice Frost coming down the hall in his mad dash to the elevator. Frost took one look at his boss and scoffed.

“Let me guess. It’s either the airheads in the meeting or something B did.” He ignored Joker’s venomous glare yet the lack of response spoke volumes.

“Are you coming back after you fix her attitude?” Frost sighed softly.

The elevator door dinged open upon arrival and Joker marched inside to stab the ground floor button. He locked eyes with Frost and set his demands.

“Don’t bother us unless.. I dunno, it’s err raining cats and dogs.” Which meant no, he wasn’t coming back and they both knew it.

Frost spoke his own reflection as the doors slid closed. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

There really should be a guide to these types of things. How to look sexy for your lover while wearing a ridiculous outfit.

Perhaps you could write a guide yourself; it beat psyching yourself up to no avail.

You planned this for weeks and now the day finally came to commit and you were having second thoughts.

The last component arrived a little while after Joker left for his meeting and you just couldn’t stall another night. It was now or never.

You wouldn’t have the confidence to do this after today. Just looking in the mirror you felt silly all over again. Knowing that Joker left you on read didn’t boost that confidence any higher either.

It wasn’t that disappointing– Joker constantly left you on read in text conversations, the problem was that he left you hanging after you sent him a risque picture.

It took you ages to get the angle, the lighting, and find a pic you actually liked, before sending it to the clown and he didn’t appreciate none of it.

You checked yourself out in front of the floor length mirror and sighed as your heels clicked sharply on the hardwood. You thought you looked cute, hot even! But your opinion was moot if Joker didn’t approve.

Maybe he opened the message and got busy before he could respond? You told yourself anything except the truth.

He probably hated it and didn’t want to hurt yor feelings.

You puckered your glossy lips at your reflection, preparing to take off the ensemble when you heard keys turning in the front door.

Joker was back in record time. It made you wonder how he got here so fast but that was the least of your worries.

You grabbed his gift off the dresser right as you heard the bedroom door slam into the wall.

Joker was going to leave a dent in the wall if he kept doing that. You told him time and time again to stop. You were about to scold him right then but the fiery heat in his eyes stole your breath.

Joker was a raging bull, just shy of steam blowing out his nose.

His target? Poor ol’ you shifting your weight from heel to heel. You hid his surprise further behind your back and of course, he noticed.

“Whatcha got there.. Bunny.” Joker stressed the endearment more so than usual since you were dressed the part.

You wore your tallest pumps and donned a fresh pair of fishnets to go nicely with your f/c bunny suit. It clung to your figure in all the best ways and the white cuff links and debonair tie around your neck was the icing on the cake.

You looked every part the bunny Joker called you. He admired the bunny ears atop your head; one bent, the other straight. He loved every little detail you had.

Joker slowly stalked towards you with his head tilted slightly. “I asked... Whatcha got behind your back Bunny? Is it a surprise?”

You nodded demurely. So that’s how you wanted to play? Joker just grinned.

“Yeah? Is it…. for me?” You giggled when he tried to steal a peek if not for you dodging his attempts at the last minute.

Joker was all for your playful mood tonight and growled lowly, seeing your sly smirk. You did your makeup so pretty, but he was over the moon seeing your plump lips shimmering all for him. You wore that shade he bought you recently. The one that tasted like strawberries.

He wanted to ruin it and you.

His green eyes roamed down your beautiful face to your neck on full display for him to nibble and mark, down to your breasts practically bursting out of your suit.

He wouldn’t be surprised if you bought it two sizes too small with how your curves spilled out over the leather confines. Joker wanted to lay you down and knead your soft flesh and rip holes in your fishnets. You looked so good and he wanted to play.

There was so much he wanted to do! He grew tired of you ducking and dodging and grabbed your arms roughly. “Gotcha Bunny! Now… let’s uh, see what you oh..”

Joker audibly swallowed as you bit your lip and looked away.

Joker stared at the bundle of rope in your hands, honestly at a loss for words. The bright color would look heavenly against your skin tone and you knew Joker wanted to tie you up for months now. He introduced the idea once or twice and tested out the new concept by binding your wrists.

It excited you and drove him wild. It was high time he got his wish by going all in.

Joker rubbed his thumb against the rope and met your shy gaze. “Y/n… are you sure.”

You nodded and leaned up (even with heels on J towered over you) and kissed his cheek but Joker required a verbal agreement.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny. That you’ll let me uhh, tie ya up? You wanna be my sweet rope bunny huh doll?”

You nodded again but Joker reached out and gripped your chin, “Use your words, bunny.”

You moaned out and closed your eyes. Joker had yet to do anything and you were already worked up. “B-Bunnies don’t t-talk.” You gasped.

Joker was speechless as you finally turned around and let him see the fluffy bunny tail** you wore. You walked over to the edge of the bed and bent by your waist to wiggle your buns for Joker.

His breath was shaky but overly excited for what was about to happen. Joker unraveled the colored rope in his hands with a mocking tsk of his lips.

“What a naughty, naughty bunny girl I have.”

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker x reader #black!fem!reader #joker x y/n #ledger joker #bunny girl #reader insert #Joker’s Bunny #his lighthouse #🐰 series #to be continued

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faebaex · 1 year

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Lilia Vanrouge | GN (AFAB) | Getting Drunk on Absinthe Chocolate (SFW or NSFW)

I’ve been eating absinthe chocolate lately and couldn’t help but think about the old man because it’s also called « green fairy chocolate » and I think Lilia would find it cute to see MC getting drunk on chocolate !! (〃ω〃)

500 Follower Valentine Event - Lilia Vanrouge

author note: dasfsgh i can't believe i said these would be short and then i wrote almost 2000 words for this Lilia prompt (*ﾉωﾉ) can you tell my bias is showing?? dear me, this old man won't even come home yet he still won't let me live o(>< )o anyway! happy Valentines Day!!

characters: Lilia Vanrouge x GN!Reader

You hurriedly packed away your textbooks and stationary as Professor Trein signaled the end of class, throwing them haphazardly in your bag as you pushed back your chair, giving your friends a rushed goodbye before leaving them in your proverbial dust as you rushed through the corridor back to your dorm.

After all, you needed to get ready for tonight!

You'd been excitedly waiting since February began. Today was Valentines Day, and you'd be spending it with your love, Lilia. A sudden onslaught of snow had disturbed your plans, but you'd both agreed to share the evening together, a lowkey event in his bedroom - a meal, maybe a movie, cuddling guaranteed. For some, such low effort may be unappealing on such a hyped up day, but for you, it was perfect.

You reached Ramshackle at record time, careful not to take the door off its hinges in your excitement. Rushing to your bedroom, you hurriedly showered and began to get ready for the night ahead, thankful that you'd chosen your outfit ahead of time. The excited butterflies floating in your stomach had you knowing you'd be fretting now if you hadn't.

Around an hour later, you were ready. Having already left some tuna and a note for Grim, you picked up the hefty giftbag by the door with a smile on your lips and made your way to the Hall of Mirrors to go to the Diasomnia dorm.

Lilia was waiting for you as you crossed through the threshold into the Diasomnia space, immediately greeting you with a bow that made you giggle before looping his arm through yours, leading you onward and inside his dorm, towards his room.

"You look absolutely delightful, my dear." Lilia complimented with a twinkle in your eye, and you felt a bashful flush dust your cheeks despite your grin. "You don't look so bad yourself." You teased back, Lilia shooting you a wistful smile at your banter. You reached Lilia's room, and he stopped purposefully outside the door. You shot him a confused look at his sudden pause, but he turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile.

"Now close your eyes, and I'll lead you." Lilia instructed, and you raised an eyebrow at the request. "O-okay..." You agreed, closing your eyes as requested, only to stiffen with a chill up your spine as you felt a puff of air ghost your ear, "and no peeking, because I'll know..." Lilia purred, and a blush erupted over your cheeks as you blindly attempted to bat him away, but of course missing. "Lilia!" You chastised, not without a smile on your face, only hearing Lilia's signature laugh as he gently grabbed your free hand and began leading you forward. You heard the creak of his door opening and you being led forward again, before the soft click of the door being shut sounded behind you.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

You opened your eyes and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You would have done a double take, to check that you were actually in Lilia's room if you weren't so taken by the wonderous sight in front of you. Lilia's room was entirely transformed, all furniture pushed aside so a large blanket could lay on the floor, loaded with a picnic basket and all essentials. But the most wonderous sight was above, for the ceiling was transformed to look like the night sky, stars twinkling and shining above akin to the clearest of nights. Ethereal light bathed the room, courtesy of several will-o'-wisps that floated carefree around the room, finishing the aesthetic and pulling the room together to look like a magnificent dreamscape.

"Lilia..." You let out the puff of air that you didn't realise that you were holding, the beautiful scenery around you making you almost lose your words, "... I... You... This is..." You felt arms curl around your waist as Lilia hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder, "I trust its to your liking?"

"Lilia this is... Amazing... How did you manage to do this..? You set this up all by yourself?" You turned to face him as you spoke, Lilia's arms loosening around you to allow the movement. He smiled once he could see your face, the smile maybe just a hint smug as he gazed at you, "isn't it wonderful what a little magic could do? My, one would even say such a display deserves a little kiss." If you weren't so shocked by the scenery around you, you'd have teased him for making such a remark, but instead you simply leaned and placed a small kiss upon his lips, his eyes lidding and expression becoming much more smug at how compliant you were.

"Mm... Come now, my dear. Your picnic awaits." Lilia guided you over to the blanket, you carefully dodging a passing will-o'-wisp, not wanting to disrupt it lest it spook. Lilia chuckled indulgently at your display, taking a seat on the blanket and patting the spot beside him. You carefully lowered yourself down beside Lilia, placing the giftbag beside you mindlessly. The rustling of the paper finally brought the bag to Lilia's notice, and he tilted his head towards it, "oho. Might that be a gift for me?" His question was finally enough to break you from your spellbound-like state, and you grinned, pulling the bag into your lap and then passing the handle to Lilia. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours in what you would swear was a deliberate gesture before pulling the bag into his own lap and reaching a hand inside.

"Oho, now how did you know I had a particular liking to these?" Lilia hummed, pulling an almost comically large sized box of chocolates from the giftbag. You smiled almost conspiratorially, leaning towards him as he laid the chocolate box across his lap, "Sam told me those chocolates are also known in some places as 'green fairy chocolates', and it reminded me of you instantly, so I had to get them. And," you stuck you tongue out cheekily, "I thought it was cute that the box was almost as tall as you."

Lilia scoffed at your words, a glimmer in his eyes that you couldn't discern as he smirked at you, "careful, you never know when I'm due a growth spurt." Lilia slid the box of chocolates off of his lap to join the rest of the picnic before he grabbed your wrist to haul you onto his lap in a way that had you straddling him. "Well, now it's time for your gift."

Lilia fished into his pocked before bringing out a small, cube box. He placed it gently in your hands, and you were hesitant to open it. "Lilia..." You began, only for his to jostle your hips from side to side to stop you. "Just open it." He said firmly, and you looked at him reproachfully before carefully opening the box.

Inside, imbedded on a simple velvet cushion, was a ring. Only a simple glance at it would confirm that it fit Lilia's cutesy style impeccably. The ring was chunky in style, reminding you of rings you'd see being styled in decora fashion. A cute depiction of a bat adorned the middle of the ring, with small gems forming a circle around it. Despite its cutesy style, you could tell from closer inspection that this ring was not cheap - which broke your Valentines rule.

"Lilia, we set a price limit and this is definitely above the price limit!" You scolded, and Lilia only smiled with an air of faux innocent beneath you, "and who told you that? I don't recall there being a price tag anywhere." He sang and you began to pout, only for him to take the ring from the box and present it to you, "allow me to do the honour?"

You felt your cheeks flush again, feeling suddenly bashful as you presented your right hand for him to slip the ring onto your finger. He tutted, but slipped the ring onto your fourth finger all the same, the fit perfect. "A shame, if only you had presented your left hand..." You lightly slapped his shoulder at his outrageous comment and he chuckled, squeezing your hips before giving you a pat.

"Let's feast, shall we?"

You were laying on the blanket, staring up at the starry sky above you. It had amazed you greatly when you saw the first shooting star rocket across the ceiling, prompting both you and Lilia to lay side by side and stargaze together. You mind felt a little fuzzy but you couldn't quite pinpoint why. Your heart felt warm, but so did your cheeks, and the urge to smile and giggle was almost overwhelming.

You reached out and grabbed another green fairy chocolate, taking a bite out of it and tasting the sweetness with the unmistakable hit of licorice. You suddenly giggled, giving into the urge that had nagged at your cheeks for awhile now, and pointed up at the ceiling, "hey, that cluster of bats there kind of looks like stars."

Lilia rolled over so he was facing you, propping his face up on his hand as he stared at you with unconcealed amusement. "Hm, would you like to try that again, dear?" You rolled your head towards him, squinting as you tried to figure out what he meant. Eventually, it dawned upon you and you covered your mouth as fresh giggles sputtered forth. "Oops."

Lilia smiled indulgently at you before propping himself so he could lean over you. "Perhaps you should ease up on the chocolate, love." As he spoke, he leaned his mouth towards the half chocolate that you still held between your fingers, but you defiantly popped the rest of the chocolate in your mouth before his lips could reach it. He pouted at your action, settling to press a chaste kiss to your fingertips instead, "so disobedient." He purred, his gaze heavy lidded as he chased your hand as you tried to reach for another chocolate, eventually lacing his fingers through yours to stop you from grabbing another chocolate.

"Do you know what are in these, love?" He teased, his thumb gently stroking along your finger in a loving gesture. You hummed, feigning as though you were actually thinking about his question, before giving him a bubbly smile, "chocolate?" you said, not realising how slurred your words sounded as they fell from your lips. Lilia clicked his tongue, yet his indulgent smile did not change as he shifted his weight so that he could properly straddle you, a knee planted either side of your hips.

"Oh dear," he sighed, looming over you and stroking his free hand gently over the flush of your cheeks, you leaning into his cool touch as it ghosted down your cheek towards your chin, "I should have kept a better eye on you. But I must say, it is so cute that just a few chocolates have got you into this state... What an unexpected gift..."

You pouted at his words, your mind too fuzzy to do much else, much lest fuss about whether his words actually bothered you or not. Lilia took in your expression with heavily lidded eyes, his crimson gaze burning into you as he tilted up your chin.

"No need to pout, my love. I'll give you as many kisses as you desire..."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x y/n #lilia vanrouge x y/n

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fatehbaz · 9 months

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Nothing in the past, moreover, gave any cause to suspect ginseng’s presence so far away. Or even closer by: since antiquity, for well over a millennium, the ginseng consumed in all of East Asia had come from just one area -- the northeast mountainous lands straddling Manchuria and Korea. No one had found it anywhere else. No one was even thinking, now, to look elsewhere. The [...] [French traveler] Joseph-Francois Lafitau didn’t know this. He had been [...] visiting Quebec on mission business in October of 1715 [...]. He began to search for ginseng. [...] [T]hen one day he spotted it [...]. Ginseng did indeed grow in North America. [...]

Prior to the nuclear disaster in the spring of 2011, few outside Japan could have placed Fukushima on a map of the world. In the geography of ginseng, however, it had long been a significant site. The Edo period domain of Aizu, which was located here, had been the first to try to grow the plant on Japanese soil, and over the course of the following centuries, Fukushima, together with Nagano prefecture, has accounted for the overwhelming majority of ginseng production in the country.

Aizu’s pioneering trials in cultivation began in 1716 – by coincidence, exactly the same year that Lafitau found the plant growing wild in the forests of Canada. [...]

---

Since the 1670s the numbers of people [in Japan] clamoring for access to the drug had swelled enormously, and this demand had to be met entirely through imports. The attempt to cultivate ginseng in Aizu -- and soon after, many other domains -- was a response to a fiscal crisis.

Massive sums of silver were flowing out of the country to pay for ginseng and other drugs [...]. Arai Hakuseki, the chief policy maker [...], calculated that no less than 75% of the country’s gold, and 25% of its silver had drained out of Japan [to pay for imports] [...]. Expenditures for ginseng were particularly egregious [...]: in the half-century between 1670s through the mid-1720s that marked the height of ginseng fever in Japan, officially recorded yearly imports of Korean ginseng through Tsushima sometimes reached as much as four to five thousand kin (approx. 2.4–3 metric tons).

What was to be done? [...] The drain of bullion was unrelenting. [...] [T]he shogunate repeatedly debased its currency, minting coins that bore the same denomination, but contained progressively less silver. Whereas the large silver coin first issued in 1601 had been 80% pure, the version issued in 1695 was only 64% silver, and the 1703 mint just 50%. Naturally enough, ginseng dealers in Korea were indifferent to the quandaries of the Japanese rulers, and insisted on payment as before; they refused the debased coins. The Japanese response speaks volumes about the unique claims of the drug among national priorities: in 1710 (and again in 1736) a special silver coin of the original 80% purity was minted exclusively for use in the ginseng trade. [...]

[T]he project of cultivating ginseng and other medicines in Japan became central to the economic and social strategy of the eighth shogun Yoshimune after he assumed power in 1716. [...]

---

China and Korea were naturally eager to retain their monopolies of this precious commodity, and strictly banned all export of live plants and seeds. They jealously guarded as well against theft of mature roots: contemporary Chinese histories, for example, record that the prisons of Shenjing (present day Shenyang) overflowed with ginseng poaching suspects. So many were caught, indeed, that the legal bureaucracy couldn’t keep up.

In 1724, the alarming numbers of suspected poachers who died in prison while awaiting trial led to the abandonment of the regular system of trials by judges dispatched from Beijing, and a shift to more expeditious reviews handled by local officials. [...]

Even in 1721. the secret orders that the shogunate sent the domain of Tsushima called for procuring merely three live plants [...]. Two other forays into Korea 1727 succeeded in presenting the shogun with another four and seven plants respectively. Meanwhile, in 1725 a Manchu merchant in Nagasaki named Yu Meiji [...] managed to smuggle in and present three live plants and a hundred seeds. [...]

Despite its modest volume, this botanical piracy eventually did the trick. By 1738, transplanted plants yielded enough seeds that the shogunate could share them with enterprising domains. [...] Ginseng eventually became so plentiful that in 1790 the government announced the complete liberalization of cultivation and sales: anyone was now free to grow or sell it.

---

By the late eighteenth century, then, the geography of ginseng looked dramatically different from a century earlier.

This precious root, which had long been restricted to a small corner of the northeast Asian continent, had not only been found growing naturally and in abundance in distant North America, but had also been successfully transplanted and was now flourishing in the neighboring island of Japan. […]

---

Colonial Americans, for their part, had developed their own new addiction: an unquenchable thirst for tea. […] This implacable need could have posed a serious problem. [...] [I]ts regular consumption was a costly habit.

Which is why the local discovery of ginseng was a true godsend.

When the Empress of China sailed to Canton in 1784 as the first ship to trade under the flag of the newly independent United States, it was this coveted root that furnished the overwhelming bulk of sales. Though other goods formed part of early Sino-American commerce – Chinese porcelain and silk, for example, and American pelts – the essential core of trade was the exchange of American ginseng for Chinese tea. [...]

---

Yoshimune’s transplantation project had succeeded to the point that Japan actually became a ginseng exporter. As early as 1765, Zhao Xuemin’s Supplement to the compedium of material medica would note the recent popularity of Japanese ginseng in China. Unlike the “French” ginseng from Canada, which cooled the body, Zhao explained, the “Asian” ginseng (dongyang shen) from Japan, like the native [Korean/Chinese] variety, tended to warm. Local habitats still mattered in the reconfigured geography of ginseng. [...]

What is place? What is time? The history of ginseng in the long eighteenth century is the story of an ever-shifting alchemical web. [...] Thanks to the English craving for tea, ginseng, which two centuries earlier had threatened to bankrupt Japan, now figured to become a major source of national wealth [for Japan] .

---

Text by: Shigehisa Kuriyama. “The Geography of Ginseng and the Strange Alchemy of Needs.” In: The Botany of Empire in the Long Eighteenth Century, edited by Yota Batsaki, Sarah Burke Cahalan, and Anatole Tchikine. 2017. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#all kinds of fun stuff smuggling piracy biogeography medicinal tea shogunates secret orders #the irony of emerging US empire beginning relationship with china based on export of american ginseng which europeans hadnt known existed #the irony of japan quickly transitioning from almost being bankrupted by ginseng to becoming a ginseng exporter #the importance of local habitats and smallscale biogeography despite the global scale of imperial trade #the french cartographer in 1711 in manchuria who had never been to canada but correctly predicted ginseng might grow there #abolition #ecology #imperial #colonial

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aaasbrutus · 23 days

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Kiss Me Goodbye

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (modern au)

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, infidelity

Word Count: 421

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Steve was driving you home from a date while the radio was softly playing with his hand on your thigh. You happily hummed along to the radio, it had been a perfect day. Steve took you out to the diner to buy you your favorite milkshake and brought you to Lover’s Lake to watch the sunset, and you couldn’t be happier. That is, of course, if you ignore what he is saying to the person on the phone.

While you and Seve have been dating for a few months now, it has all been in secret. Not because you were hiding it from strict parents, or hiding it for the thrill of getting caught. Because of Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy Wheeler was Steve’s first love and he was technically still seeing her, making you the other woman. But shortly after their honeymoon phase, Steve had fallen out of love with her and began to see you in secret. In the beginning, you were hesitant. You did not want to be the girl a man cheats on his girlfriend with, but still had always promised that he was going to leave her. He just needed to break up with her when the time was right. And now 3 months later, he was still with her, and the two of you were still sneaking around.

Despite how bad it makes you seem and feel, you never brought it up with Steve. Even when he was actively saying how much he missed her and loved her right next to you. You wanted to trust Steve, and you wanted to trust him to break up with her when the time was right. Finally allowing the both of you to be vocal about your relationship and to no longer have to worry about his “girlfriend.” But on the other hand, you knew that you were nothing like Nancy Wheeler. And while he was supposedly falling out of love with Nancy, you were falling more and more for him. And you knew that you couldn’t risk bringing it up in fear of him getting mad at you and leaving you instead.

You need him. It was as simple as that. And you don’t mind hiding your relationship. For the time being, even if he was still with Nancy. Even if it meant that you were technically stealing someone’s boyfriend. As of now, all that matters is that at the end of your date, when he drops you off before he goes to kiss Nancy, he kisses you goodbye.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Thank you for reading :))

main masterlist, fics named after songs masterlist

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington

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ginxparker · 1 year

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Ghost Drink Scale

i like this headcanon that lives in my mind, that Ghost is a excelent drinker, but a terrible one if we are talking about tequila.

So obv one day, los vaqueros bring tequila to a kinda off party that 141 is having (except there is no music, only a bunch of dudes in small circles chatting, drinking and being loud -and sometimes a little fight, but is all friendly).

141 knows for a fact that Ghost is a awful tequila guy, that is gonna drive someone insane that night, and give everybody headche tomorrow, but the AleRudy have never seen Ghost even tipsy so they dont belive that this is possible. In some way, Gaz convince Soap to prove for the couple that Ghost is indeed a horrible tequila drinker.

So Soap offered LT a drink and the mask man did not refuse while being swip by the nice talker.

And from that day they ended up creating a scale of how much Ghost can change with a glass of tequila:

One Drink Simon: He does space out more frequently, nothing too alarming for now.

Two Drink Simon: He is loud. You can hear his voice across the street. And he dont volume down if you ask, he only whispers loud and in seconds is being loud again.

Three Drink Simon: Extremely confident. He passes to flirt non-stop with Soap, witch makes Jhonny go red. Rudy is dying of laugh with Gaz, and he just promeses that makes better. Four Drink Simon: He speaks all in any language, but none of them are English. Seven of the ten sentences the group can decipher are profanity (Simon is a real potty mouth with tequila on his head), two are something inexplicable about Soap, and one is a dead mystery because they are 100% sure the language doesn't exist (it is dead Latin, and it's a recipe that reminds him of his family).

Five Drink Simon: He's kind of bummer. He is very sad. He doesn't cry, but he will question the existence of life with himself, that nothing should matter because everyone is going to die, and before he gets to damn emotional, everyone agrees to give it another shot of tequila.

Six Drink Simon: His head doesn't work anymore, he dont wants to know about sad things, or whatever. He just needs to move, he stands, he walks, he can't stay still, until Alejandro drop the best mexican music and Simon starts an awkward dance in place. (At this point everyone is so drunk they aren't the only ones dancing).

Seve Drink Simon: he is sweating duo the dance moves, but he cant care less. He is a little pervert horny guy trying to get in Soap pants like his life depends on this.

And at this point, Gaz is lost in some place with Alex, AleRudy are too distracted burning everyone in the dance floor to notice that Soap likes this Simon too damn much, and leaves with him to some room where them can do all the dirty things that Soap dind't know that Simon could even think of doing with him, but here he was, having all of this being whispered in his ear in one of the sexiest voices that he can ever hear.

They stop in Seven Drink Simon for now, but 141 and los vaqueros are not done with Ghost, some day he will not be able to run way with Soap before they can feed him another shot of tequila.

who would imagine that even the might Ghost have a little weakness like tequila. And, well, at least now they have Soap to relief the headche that Ghost in definilly give everyone in the next morning.

#tequila may not be able to kill you but she will kill your dignity #call of duty mwii #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #alerudy #inspired in b99 #english is not my first language #price is with Nikolai the whole time so he dont have the power to stop them #Ghost let himself be sweet talked for Jhonny #Ghost as Amy Santiago #AleRudy are killer husbands and dancers

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queer-here-and-in-fear · 3 months

Text

underneath (silver linings are found)

A03 version

tags:

Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Post-Canon, Feel-good, Protective Charlie Magne, Lilith Magne is a Bitch, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lilith Magne owns Alastor's Soul, owned actually. past tense, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), look. hes technically a bit ooc but its also 2 years post canon SUE ME, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)

note: uhh hope this is good!! my first hazbin fic lol!!! if you like this feel free to send me writing or art requests in the comments, or on my tumblr, @queer-here-and-in-fear!!

It had been exactly two months and three days since Alastor had last grinned, and Charlie was starting to lose it a little. She wasn’t the only one in the hotel to notice, no, Vaggie had been giving Alastor weird looks since it started, and Angel Dust had been joking about it up and down, but nobody else was concerned. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but so much had been happening, Charlie couldn’t really blame them for not asking.

But someone had too.

It wasn’t like there was any reason for this, at least none that Charlie could figure out. Everything was better now. Sir Pentious wasn’t dead, he was ok (even if he didn’t remember them - because they could fix that, they couldn’t fix death), they had managed to push back extermination while heavens court deliberated, and Alastor wasn’t stuck in the deal with Charlies mom anymore, he was free. So everything was supposed to better.

.. But something was still wrong, because Alastor still wasn’t grinning. He was still smiling, sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes and compared to the big wide grin Charlie had grown to know over the past two years; it wasn’t much. He was still Alastor, Charlie knew it wasn’t all just faked because of the deal with her mom, but.. it was odd.

She had tried her best to ignore it, really, she had tried so hard. Alastor warned them (in what she could swear was meant to be a moment of vulnerability, holy shit her hotel was working) that he was gonna need some time to get better. That was okay by Charlie, she knew a solid half of that deal was just meaningless torture on her moms part (which was not messing with her head, thank you very much.)

It had been two months, though, and Alastor had said he felt mostly better now, and he still wasn’t grinning. Charlie wasn’t sure the last time she had seen his teeth where he wasn’t eating or baring them. It was a stupid, small thing to get caught up when everything was better and they were working to make it even more better, but she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was going to go Nifty levels of insane if she keeped trying to ignore it.

So, after a long long hour of pacing and ringing her hands and running her fingers through her hair and ranting aloud to herself (she wasn’t sure she could thank her dad enough for the sound proof room), she slid out of her room and into the lobby. She had a good feeling Alastor was in there, and it took about two steps into the lobby and a quick look around to prove herself right.

“Oh, Charlie, my dear! Any reason why you’re up at the devils hour?” Alastor looked up from his book and asked with a small little smile, the hum of radio static steady under his voice, and Charlie felt her heart ease a bit up at the soft sight. Right.

There was another reason she hadn’t asked yet, other than her anxiety - Alastor was genuinely getting better. She could see it now as Alastor placed his book on the table and shifted to the side to give her room to sit down. He looked, and acted, genuinely better.

All his movements felt lighter now; less deliberate, more genuine. She was pretty sure Husk had said it best one night when they were talking over whisky. (“I damn knew somethin’ was wrong with the bastard when he came back. He was all tight strung and quick spoke - wasn’t like that before. I swear, I thought he had been a professional actor past seven years, he did nothing naturally! Feels more normal now, and I’m damn glad for it.”)

“Just a bit antsy,” she answered with a smile she was pretty sure held her painfully obvious anxiety. She slid into the spot Alastor had made for her and quickly pulled her ankles up to sit criss-cross, her hands running over her legs and her eyes, for the moment, glued to her lap. She knew her anxious tells were painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure trying to act normal would make her combust. After a second, her gaze drifted back up to Alastor, “what about you?”

“I’m doing just splendid darling!” He answered with an ease that soothed Charlie a bit. It was.. nicer to hear him speak now, knowing that every word was of his free will. Even if he was lying, at least he was choosing to lie. That had to count for something. “Say, Charlie, what has you oh so antsy at this witching hour?”

“I just,” she cut herself off and took a deep breath before looking back to Alastor, and explaining, “ok, so - I know a lot has changed and a lot is changing and I’m ok with that, of course I am! And if you don’t want to answer that’s completely fine, no bad blood - and no matter what you do answer, if you even choose too - I won’t be mad or anything. I just - I have a question. For you.”

Alastor blinked, giving her a blank stare for a moment as he processed the ramble. After a moment though, he gave Charlie another of his too small smiles and a clapped a hand on to her shoulder. “Well, ask away my dear! No need to leave me or yourself waiting any longer now.” He said, giving her an expectant look.

It took Charlie another five seconds of painfully staring at her lap before the words wouldn’t be held in anymore, and the whole question came tumbling out so fast Charlie was pretty sure it counted as one word- “why haven’t you been grinning at all?”

It took about another two seconds of no answer until Charlie was rambling again, the words spilling out before she could really stop them. “I mean, it’s not like you have to, of course not! I would never make you do anything you don’t want too, I’m not like my mom, I’m just.. concerned, I guess. You used to grin all the time and now you don’t and-”

Alastor cleared his throat and Charlie snapped her head up so fast she vaguely worried she was going to give herself a neck injury. “I take no offense to the question, Charlie,” he started, “and my will is not so easily swayed that I will change my behavior just because of a simple question you asked.”

“Right, right, of course,” Charlie said, hands still ringing in her lap as she practically brimmed with anxiety.

There was another uncomfortable silence before Alastor started speaking again. Just a year or two ago Charlie would’ve called herself stupid for even thinking it, but now she could recognize the furrow to his brow as nervousness. “I will answer your question. I just.. would like to give some context first. Charlie, do you know how your mother could be cruel?”

Charlie did. She couldn’t unknow it, because it all made her sick. The same women who preached about being their to impower demon kind could torture one of them, needlessly. She fucking sowed his mouth half shut instead of just making a vocal deal about it like a normal person to- to fucking what, prove a point? Alastor had been cooperating, he hadn’t done anything, and she fucking hurt him for fun while playing at being an angel-

It was only when Alastor’s gentle hand tapped against the point of her horn she realized she had horns to be tapped, and she cleared her throat with embarrassment. “I’ll take that for a yes,” Alastor started, a small bit of brimming affection in his tone, “there was.. one more incident of that I haven’t brought up yet.”

The words already set a chill to Charlies spine and her mind racing, a million god awful and painful to think about possibilities running through her head, but Alastor’s next question made her blood run cold. “Do you remember a single time I wasn’t grinning before the deal was broken?”

Charlie.. Charlie couldn’t, could she? That was why she was so concerned about his lack of teeth baring in the first place, it was so normal that the loss of it sent her mind spinning. But now that she thought to it, the dates lining up perfectly - oh. She was the last to realize, wasn’t she.

“... No. You couldn’t stop grinning, could you?” She whispered with mounting horror.

Alastor gave a small nod. “That is true.”

Charlie suddenly threw herself back on the couch, groaning with painful frustration and hiding her face in her hands. “Of course you didn’t want to grin while crying! Shit, how didn’t I realize it earlier? I- fuck, I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you.”

Alastor blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hesitantly, he reached down with a comforting hand, lightly patting her shoulder. “There there, my demon belle. It is no bad blood you didn’t get me out earlier - I’m out now, am I not? As well, it might’ve been.. for the best, that the deal stayed as it was for a while. Even if it was terribly unpleasant.”

That caught Charlies attention as she sat up again, looking over to Alastor with pure, unmarred confusion covering her face. “.. What do you mean it’s for the better the deal stayed in place? The deal nearly got you killed, like.. twice!” She said, waving her hands around with frustration.

“..I’ll concede, it is true that the deal did cause me great detriment,” Alastor said, before continuing, “however - it wasn’t all bad. I would’ve never came to the hotel if your mother didn’t force me too.” He pointed out with a small smile on his lips, “I would’ve never met Vagatha, or Angel Dust, or our dear Sir Repentious, or even-” he reached down, suddenly tapping Charlie on the nose, “you, my dear.”

Charlie laughed softly before turning back around again, guilt still brimming under her voice. “Sure, I guess, but you should have never been forced to stay. I wanted that to be a choice, y’know, and you, my co-host, were forced and I didn’t even know. It just.. it bothers me.”

“Well, even if the situation was forced, my affection wasn’t,” Alastor held up one finger to stop Charlie from contesting him, “I know it wasn’t, because for a long long time before you freed me, I had resentment building.” Charlie blinked, staring up at him with surprise.

“I wanted to get my just-deserts, my bloody vengeance in glorious fashion once my wings were unclipped - however, after so long of having only you as a symbol of your mother, I missed sight of who was at fault,” Charlie listened, vaguely recognizing the emotion in his voice as guilt. “I wanted to get vengeance upon you, even when I was more than aware you weren’t at fault.”

“However, over time, that rage faded - not for your mother, of course, but for you. After so many nights of you healing wounds and helping souls and showing me kindness, even as I loudly detested everything you stood for with a grin on my face, I realized that you weren’t the one to blame. So, really, it was for the best.”

Charlie blinked up at him, before slowing leaning over and resting her head on Alastor’s shoulder, taking in the warm and familiar silence of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

#nox text posts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie magne #the radio demon

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mommastanberry-blog · 2 months

Text

It was late. Much later than Draco wanted it to be when he cast a Tempus charm to check the time.

Great. Good job Draco, another sleepless night.

He pulled on his coat and made his way out of his office, realizing quickly that he was the last one left in the building. He sighed. Owning a Quidditch team was not as fun as he had assumed. The paperwork and politics were grueling, leaving Draco almost no time on a broom. He missed the days of just being on a team and flying with his friends, the rush of the wind on a cold fall day made him feel more alive than breathing.

I’ll owl Theo tomorrow and see if he's busy. We can go fly up to Hogsmeade and have a pint at the Hog’s Head.

Stepping off the lift into the atrium, and out the door, Draco could see strikes of lightning in the distance. The strength of the wind told him a storm would be here soon; he needed to get home before it hit.

Riding a bike in the rain… definitely not my smartest move.

He mounted his bike, casting a few spells to repel the wind and rain, and donned his helmet. He hated the thing, but he drove in muggle London enough that he didn’t want to risk dealing with the police. He had had enough of that for a lifetime. He shuddered thinking about the 6 months he had spent in Azkaban. He had been at risk of a 10-year sentence, but thanks to an apparent earful, and Salazar knows what else, from a very swotty and bushy-haired Gryffindor, he had been given time served and a 5-year probationary period. Once he had returned home he had written her a letter, saying all the things he could never bring himself to in person.

Never got a letter back. I deserved that.

The rain was coming down in heavy sheets making it difficult for Draco to see. He took it slow, but that didn’t stop him from nearly hitting something that had appeared in the road.

FUCK!

He screeched to a stop, barely missing the…

Is that a woman? What is she doing out here?

He hopped off his bike and rushed over to the woman who was soaked from head to toe. He couldn’t see her face that was hidden under a large hood, but he knew she must be a witch, as muggles didn’t typically wear cloaks.

“Ma’am are you okay? What are you doing out here?”

She didn’t speak, she just kept trying to walk away.

What is going on here?

“Miss? MISS! It is not safe for you to be out here on the road in this storm!” He shouted through the thunder.

She jerked away, and Draco didn’t know if it was out of fright or disgust. He reached for her again, and his hand snagged her hood, pulling it off. He gasped as her face came into view. It was dark out, and the rain obscured his vision, but he knew instantly that the woman before him was Hermione Granger. She refused to look up and her bushy hair was matted to her face from the rain, but there was no mistaking who she was.

“Granger?! What are you—” he was stunned silent when another detail came into view.

Her eye was swollen and black, and her brow was split open. Judging by the level of swelling Draco could assume her orbital was broken. It was difficult to ascertain the other injuries in the dark. He needed to get her to the manor.

“Granger? Listen to me, you can’t stay out here, I’m going to apparate us to the Manor. Nod if you understand me?”

It took several moments, but she gave him a shallow nod and he returned it in kind. She still hadn’t looked up at him and he worried she was going to panic if she noticed before he got her to safety, so he quickly parked his bike far off the side of the road, and placed a concealment charm on it, returning to the witch and offering his hand. She stared at it for a moment before taking it in her own, and he immediately transported them to his bedroom in the Manor. He figured it would be the place least likely to make her think of the drawing room and, therefore, least likely to trigger her more.

He sat her down on his bed, casting several charms to dry and warm her, “Granger, I need you to tell me if you know where you are?” No response.

He reached over to unclip her cloak so he could remove it, but she flinched, yet again.

Gods what happened to her?

“Listen, Granger,” he said, kneeling down in front of her, “I need you to look at me. I’m not going to hurt you, but I need you to know where you are, and I need to make sure you realize who I am. Please, I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

It took her several minutes. Draco sat quietly as she violently shook before him, eyes pinched tightly shut. He cast another warming charm, hoping it would slow the shakes, but he knew the reality was that it wasn’t likely from the cold, but shock. He stood and began to pace, unsure of what to do to end the spiral she was going through. A thought crossed his mind and he turned towards the bathroom, retrieving a washcloth and soaking it in cold water.

Returning to Granger, who hadn’t moved an inch, he reached a hand out carefully, taking one of her hands gently in his own. Flipping it over, he placed the cold cloth in her hands, but not letting go.

“Granger, would it—”

“It was Ron.”

She lifted her head and their eyes met. Fire shot through his veins and his heart began to race.

The weasel did this?

He couldn’t decide what he was feeling; rage? How could anyone have done this, much less someone who, to Draco’s knowledge, was supposed to love her.

Was this the first time? Can’t be, its too gruesome for that. Do her friends know? Does Potter?

“Gilly!” he called, not breaking eye contact.

“Yes Masters Draco? Oh! We have a guest, why didn’t you inform Gilly?”

“Gil! I need you to tend to Miss Granger here, she is quite injured. Keep her safe, do you understand? Give her anything she needs, a place to stay, food, whatever. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Malfoy…”

“She is a free elf Granger, has been for years.” He said, allowing her a moment to process before taking her hand, “Where is he?”

She hesitated, clearly battling with herself on if she should answer, before quickly steeling herself, “Home. I think.”

“Where is home?”

“8 Heathgate, Hampstead Garden Suburb, London.”

He stood to leave, “Wait here.”

“Malfoy?”

“Just… Wait here.”

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

He stumbled out of the floo and tore through the unfamiliar home. After clearing the first floor, he checked the second, searching each room thoroughly. There was no sign of the weasel.

Where is he?

His final place to check was the garden. Pushing open the door, wand drawn, he braced himself for a fight.

Fuck! Where is he?

He scoured every corner of the garden, checking bushes and behind the willow tree, before resigning to put away his wand and head inside. He paced the kitchen, trying to decide his next move, when the floo roared to life and the weasel appeared, stumbling out of the green flames. They locked eyes for a moment, Draco’s heartbeat thundering in his chest.

“What the hell are you doing in my house Malfoy? How did you even get in here?”

He hadn’t really thought about what he had planned to do, but when his eyes caught a glimpse of Weasley’s bloodied knuckles his resolve snapped. He launched himself at Weasley, on him before he could draw his wand, connecting his fist to the weasel’s nose. They tumbled to the ground in a tangled mess. Weasley was bulkier than Draco, but it was clear he had been drinking heavily with his slowed responses to Draco’s moves. He was able to mount himself atop Weasley, pinning him to the ground with his legs.

“You…will regret…this……Malfoy!” He spat between blows, blood pouring from his mouth and nose as he held up his arms to cover his face.

He paused, catching Weasley’s gaze, “Doubtful.” He spat, and the air crackled around him as he reared his fist back, allowing all his rage to course through his body, and connecting his fist to Weasley’s face one last time, before his body stilled beneath him.

He blew out a breath and stood. Using his last bit of energy, he lifted his foot before stomping it down, hearing the crunch of Weasley’s skull as it cracked beneath his boot. He was dead, Draco would bet his entire vault on it. He plopped down on Granger’s couch as he tried to figure out what to do. There was no point in running, he was already tracked due to his probation, which had been due to expire soon.

So much for that.

He sat thinking for half an hour before his decision was made, “Gilly!”

She popped up beside him, wringing her hands nervously, “Yes, Master Draco?”

“Gilly love, I need you to do some things for me, alright? I need them done as soon as possible, and please don’t ask any questions. Time is of the essence.”

“Yes sir.”

“First, I need you to go to Gringotts and transfer all my personal funds into Granger’s vault. Second, please send all the books from the library that are safe to this address, someone should have them that will appreciate them. Can you do that?”

“Master Draco, what is—”

“No questions Gilly, not right now, there’s no time. I need you to do this before the Aurors come.”

“Aurors?”

“NOW GILLY!” he shouted, sighing as the guilt flowed through him, “Please. Do as I say.”

“Yes sir.”

She popped away, leaving Draco alone again. He gave it another half hour, stepping outside to smoke a cigarette, trying to give Gilly enough time to at least complete the trip to Gringotts.

Well, I guess it’s time.

He walked to the floo, tossed in some powder and called out for the DMLE, disappearing into the flash of green.

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

Draco was very familiar with the holding cell of the DMLE. Concrete walls and no door; the Aurors were taught the spell to make one appear when they needed in and out, same as Azkaban. He never thought he would be back here, and yet he had decided on his own to turn himself in.

For Granger.

He tried to rationalize the rash decision he had made, but more often than not, the truth was less sexy than fantasy. He saved Hermione Granger, because he hadn’t saved her before; not that he could have, he would have been killed. This time he had a choice, and he wanted it to be the right one, no matter the consequences.

“Mister Malfoy.” A voice said, startling him from his thoughts.

“Auror Dawlish.”

“Would you care to explain to me what happened tonight?”

“I was driving home from my office, when I saw a figure on the road. I nearly hit her cause the rain was so heavy and she was wandering down the middle of the road. I stopped to help, could tell she had been through something because she kept flinching when I would try to help.”

“Maybe it was just because it was you, Malfoy.”

“I don’t think she even saw my face. She had her hood pulled down so far, and refused to lift her head to look at me.”

“What happened next?”

“She was panicked and trying to get away, but I was afraid she was going to get injured or killed being out on the road in this storm, so I reached out to grab her, and accidentally caught her hood, pulling it down. That was when I noticed it was Hermione Granger.”

“Granger? What was she doing out there in the middle of the night?”

“I had that same question, until I saw her face. She had been assaulted. So I did everything I could to calm her down so I could get her to let me apparate us to the Manor.”

“Is that where she is?”

“She should be, its where I left her once she told me it was Weasley who did it.”

“Weasley? Ronald Weasley?”

“Yes.”

“Then what did you do Mister Malfoy?”

“I killed him.”

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

Sixty months and eleven days had passed since he had been sentenced to 10 years. Hermione had pulled every string she could to get him the sentence he had.

Will I ever be able to pay back my debt to her?

She came to see him often, twice a week when she was free, and wrote to him nearly every day even though he could only receive them on Sunday’s. Her most recent visit, she had snuck him a lemon drop, and Draco nearly cried with joy. He had popped it into his mouth so fast, without considering the length of time it had been since he had one, and instantly regretted it. His jaw seized up and his eyes watered as the sour candy overtook his mouth. He coughed trying to regain his composure when he heard a chuckle come from across the table. His heart stopped in his chest. He looked up at her, the tingling in his mouth long forgotten as he saw the smile that spread across her face. In that moment everything became clear to him, like the dark cloud that permanently hung over Azkaban had lifted.

It was worth it, all of it, to see her smile. Even if I’m here forever, I don’t care, she’s safe; and it’s a hell of a lot better than whatever place I’ve sent him to.

#draco malfoy #draco x hermione #dramione #harry potter #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #hp fanfcition #spotify

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