#and yeah it makes sense you find such nicer comments on standard

[lonely-layla]

Amazing experience

Budo Masuta x fem!chubby!reader

Not proof read so if you see errors use ur brain

You made it to the martial arts club, You’re not sure who you’re looking for but from the flier it was someone named Budo. You take a deep breath and fix my skirt as you open the door to 5 people training.

“Welcome to the Martial Arts Club! What brings you here?” A man, around 5’8 with black hair approaches you. “Uhm hi. Imr looking for someone named…” you look at paper double checking the name on the flier. “Budo Masuta?” You hear a chuckled come from the black haired guy in front of you. “Well, that would be me. And you are?” He looks at you waiting for your response. “Y/n” you respond nearvously. “It's nice to meet you, y/n. And I assume you wish to join the Martial Arts Club?” He asks you with a standard enthusiastic tone he always has.

“Y-yeah” you stutter in response. “Excellent! I always welcome more members to our club. Do you have any experience in martial arts, or would you be a complete beginner?” You pause for a moment before answering “no…im a beginner”. “Don't worry, we'll start you off slowly. That should give you a good foundation to work with, and then you can always advance as you improve your skills!” He smile at you. It makes you feel warm inside, how a complete stranger is being nicer to you than anyone in the whole school has. You begin your classes with Budo until the bell rings for class.

You walk to your class when you see and you and Budo are both in class 3-2. As you sit down in class, you see that Budo is already seated next to you. He glances in your direction and smiles, then turns back to the front of the class.

“The first 6 digits of pie are 3.14159” you say answering the question. “Correct y/n” the teacher congratulates you. “It seems you know a lot about pie don’t you, fatty” Musume comments from the back of the class, giggling as some of the people in the class also laugh a little.

Budo glances over at you and notices you’re much less confident than you were before. He shoots a dangerous glare at Musume. She immediately shuts up and faces forward, visibly shaken.

Class bell rings again and everyone leaves to lunch. You pack up your stuff but Musume had stayed. You notice the rest of her friends walking into the classroom. *what the hell are they gonna do now?* you think to yourself.

Just as you ask that, you turn around and is faced with a little pig that got thrown at your face. You don’t even worry about yourself you worry if the little pig is alright as it squeals and runs away. “OMG Y/n! It’s your twin ahahaha” Hanna yells and they all laugh and walk away. You burst out into tears and run to the zen garden.

Once you arrive at the garden to calm down you take a seat at one of the benches. You hear footsteps come up behind you, and you can sense someone approaching you from behind as your breathing slows down. *Oh no, it’s probably them again. Please stop, don’t come any closer* you think, you brace for an impact but you feel a soft hand on my arm.

Budo is standing behind you. He looks worried when he sees your wet cheeks and red eyes from crying. You feel his hand squeeze gently. “Hey...are you alright?” He asks you with a worried expression on his face. It was embarrassing for you, for him to see you like this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you turn away and curl into a ball and continue sobbing.

He kneels down and rests on the ground beside you. He pulls you close to him and gently pats your back as he tries to comfort you. “Shhh, everything will be okay. I know it's tough right now, but just try to hold on and let your emotions flow naturally. I promise it gets better” . Those comforting words proved to you that he wasn’t here to judge you.

“Why do I have to look like this?” You ask softly, trying to hide your body. “Why do so many people find time out of their day to tell me what’s wrong with me?” You sigh out of exhaustion. Budo gives you a reassuring gaze as he continues to hug you.

“I don't think there's anything wrong with how you look. Yes, you may have a few extra pounds on you, but that just makes you more beautiful in my eyes. There's nothing wrong with having a little bit of extra curve, it just shows that you have a healthy amount of energy and nutrients. Musume and her friends are just jealous of your natural beauty.” He comforts you rubbings circles into your shoulder.

The bell rings to go back to class as I stand up and just him as tight as I can. Thinking about how no one had ever said that to me before. “Thank you” I say feeling more tears fall. Budo smiles warmly, angles your face to face his and gently wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “It's no problem at all, really. Just try to keep your eyes dry. I'd hate for your pretty face to be stained with tears” he giggles as he smiles at you.

This was the moment you realized you were in love with him. The man that actually care about you unlike anyone else. We both walk back to class together and I sit down, instinctively putting my bag on my lap hiding my stomach. Budo noticed this subtle act and notes it.

As the day comes to a close and you make your way to the gate, you hear footsteps approach you and you sense someone approaching you. “Hey y/n, I just wanted to ask you about one of the math problems from class today. I didn’t really understand it” Budo speaks to you, obviously trying to make an excuse to walk you home, but you don’t mind. He walks beside you discussing the problem bruh you reach your home.

You feel his hand fall to the small of your back as you two walk together, this brings butterflies to your stomach. Budo glances down as you walk up your driveway. The sight of you fills him with so much emotion. The way your soft cheeks glisten in the sunlight, the gentle sway of your hips as you walk, the way your cute little Akademi uniform clings your tummy, everything is just perfect. He waves goodbye to you as he walks to his own home.

That night you thought of making Budo a fresh batch of cookies as a gratitude gift. The next day, you walk into school and spot Budo walking in with the rest of the martial arts club. “Hey Budo!” I say waking over to him.

Before he could say good morning back I speak “thank you for protecting me yesterday. I-I brought you some fresh baked cookies. You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want but I just wanted to do something ni-“ your rambling is interrupted by Budo putting his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for the cookies, but you don't have to buy me anything. I'm just doing my part as the Martial Arts Club leader. And I was only being a gentleman by accompanying you home; it's something that I'd do for anyone” Budo states as he continues to walk into the school.

“id do that for anyone”, those words ran in your head all day. Was what he said and did back in the garden, just because he felt bad for me? Did he not actually like me the same way I liked him? Was all of his actions just him being friendly? There was so thoughts in my mind.

Today, you decide to keep your distance from Budo so that you can clear your head and make some sense of your feelings. Budo noticed that you were avoiding him,but he didn't make an effort of contacting you. He just thought that you didn’t want to talk to him because of this morning. As you sit alone, you're filled with mixed emotions, excitement, frustration, uncertainty.

Your school day concludes and you walk to the gate like you always do. Still compressing the thoughts, but then you hear footsteps behind you. You can tell it’s Budo, because… well who else would it be. But his footsteps sound fast.

You turn around to feel his lips crash into yours with a passionate kiss. It sends a jolt of butterflies through your body as you melt into Budo's embrace. His hands caress the side of your face as he kisses you. It's like all your negative feelings are being erased, leaving only pure, blissful happiness.

You break the kiss as you look at him, this kiss lingers on your lips, almost tasting the sweetness from where his lips touched yours. “I've wanted to do that for so long... You're so beautiful.” He states, tilting his head a bit smiling at you.

Why now? Why all of a sudden? He was so distant a couple hours ago, why does he think this is the right time? You look away from is gaze with a concerned look. You can’t understand why all of a sudden he’s showing you affections after being distant all day.

He noticed this body language and takes a step back. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I should have asked before I did something like tha-”

“nonono! You didn’t! I- I just didn’t think you liked me the way I liked you” you meekly say adverting his gaze. He smiles and exhales as he moves closer, “Oh, honey... I've always thought you were so cute. You don't think I kept following you around because I hate you, do you? I thought you would have put two and two together by now, but I'm guessing you didn't pick up on those hints” he awkwardly smiles.

You make eye contact again but slowly look someplace else. “I just didn’t think someone like you could like someone…like me. The whole reason why I join your club is because Musume and her friends told me to lose some weight” Budo's expression widened hearing your wirds.

*flashback to before you met Budo*

“Ahaha y/n! Don’t you think you should lost some weight you fat pig” Hanna Daidaiyama comments walking by you. “Don’t you think you need to re-dye your roots bitch?!” You angrily snap back at her. She frantically looks around as she walks towards you and pushes you to the ground. “Yeah, but unlike you, I know how to fight” she says as she walks away.

You stand up and amidst yourself off, walking to the stairs of the first floor you see a post o Brie wall “Martial Arts Club! Come show off your self defense skills and learn new ones!” Those seems like exactly what you need. You rip the poster off the wall and go straight to the class

*back to present time*

Budo pulls you into a hug. “Don't let anyone tell you any different: you are beautiful. Those bullies were just jealous of your beauty, and they took it out on you just because they had some personal problems to deal with. I know you've gone through a lot, but I swear to you that everything is going to change. From here on out, none of that bullshit is going to happen again.”

You feel tears fill your eyes to this. You finally found someone who loves you for you, who doenst want to change you. “T-thank you Budo” you sob out.

He smiles as he wipes away your tears with his thumb “Oh, my sweet little angel~” He kisses you on the forehead and wipes a few more tears before gently placing his hand on your cheek. “I'm so happy that you're mine now” he tells you warmly as the smile grows wider and brighter than ever as he stares into your eyes.

You both walk home together and this time, when you get to your doorstep, you invite him into you house. Since your parents are out on a business trip it was just you and your dog “do you want to come inside?” You asks gesturing at the door. Budo face lights up as he nods ands walks inside. He follows you inside the hallway. He pets your dog softly, then smiles warmly as he turns to look at the inside of the house.

You both get to your room as you walk to the closet to change. YIY close the door and walk out in a hoodie and some shorts. Budo couldn’t stop staring at you as you sit on the bed. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” You ask him with a light blush on your cheeks, he smiles and agrees.

Budo curls around you tightly as he rests his head against your chest. Your soft, warm body is incredibly comforting, and he feels completely at peace. He wraps his arms carefully around you, and pulls you into a tight hug. He kisses your forehead.

“I guess listening to Musume actually did do something good for once hmm~” you exhale softly as you adjust your position to be more comfortable. Budo laughs at your comment and gently strokes your hair as he rests his head on your chest. “I guess that’s one thing to thank her for. I couldn’t be happier than I am right now”

You shifted your weight so your on my side, letting out a soft groan to the movement. Budo picked up on the slight noise and it sends shivers down his spine. He begins to caress your body more intimately, stroking your hair and running his hands along your side. His touch feels heavenly, and you could almost feel the heat coming from his palms.

You turn again to face him and lean in to a kiss. Budo wraps his arms around your waist, returning the kiss. Holding you tightly against him as he kisses back with all the passion in world. He then movers you up onto his lap in a quick movement.

You are surprised at his strength as no one else was able to move you like that before. His lips are warm and tender, and they feel like heaven as they make contact with your own. You feel your body heat up with excitement, and your mind becomes clouded with pure ecstasy.

Your hips begin to unconsciously start rocking on his groin, making his breath hitch. His hands start to roam your body going from your thick thighs and ending on your lump ass.

As you continue to ride him he throws his head back “Mmm~” he melts a deep moan escape his lips as his hands grip your ass tighter, urging you on.

He begins to take off your shirt when you put your hand over his go stop him “Budo are you sure about this?” You ask letting my insecurities get the better of you. “I-I just don’t want you to be… disappointed” I look down in shame. His hands go to my chip and it leads me to connect with his lips once more. “I love you and your body, there’s nothing about you that will disappoint me” I gives you a smile.

Grabs your wrist firmly, pulling your hand away from his “You are beautiful the way you are and II’ve every inch of you. You're perfect exactly as you are.” He reassures you as he continues to undress you.

His hands start to move your pants down to expose your stomach. He pecks kisses all over your body. Once your bottom parts are exposed, he kisses you deeper, his hand gently caressing your bare thigh, moving closer to your already wet pussy “You are so beautiful” his eyes hold yours as his hand moves further up your thigh, making you shiver from anticipation and desire.

He inserts two digits inside of you. “Oh my, looks like you wanted this as much as I did~” he says getting more hard by the minute as he pumps two digits in and out of you. You take his pants off as you start pumping his already hard cock in your chubby palm. “Ahh~ damn you good” his laugh turned into a moan as he continued to pump into you, now adding a third digit and hitting deeper.

Budo groans loudly "Fuck~, I can't take this much longer~" he breathes heavily as his hips buck into your hand. He feels his orgasm coming over him as he lets out a loud moan as he comes onto your hand. his whole body shivers as his breath hitches.

His eyes widen when you don’t stop pumping and you lower your plump ass onto his cock and begin moving. “W-wait wait wait! Ah~ fuck~” he moans out loud joy expecting you to overstimulate him.

As you continue to bounce, he in clasps your bra letting your heavy breasts fall and bounce freely he reaches up to cup your breasts and his mouth goes to your right nipple "You are so fucking beautiful right now," he muffles into your breast, his hands falling to your stomach massaging it slowly.

You couldn’t believe the amount of praise you were getting from this man in the moment. it was too much for you to handle. “ahh~ fuck Budo!” You yell out as you come to my climax and squirt over his cock.

He watches in amazement, watching the liquid seep out, feeling your tightness release around him “Oh my~” He whispers as he feels the warmth of your climax cover his cock, it's something he's never experienced before with another person.

His words snap you back to reality as you see the mess you made around you. “B-Budo I’m.. Fuck I-” before u ou could spew out your apology, he kisses you softly, “Don't worry about it honey~” he soothes, pressing his lips to the curve of your neck as both of your breathing patterns even out. “It was incredible”

You lean on his chests as you two both fall into a soothing sleep. Feeling each others chests rise and fall.

#chubby reader #yandere simulator #budo masuta #budoxreader #budo x reader #Yandere sim x reader

[adore-gregor]

I saw an article on a page derstandard at and I think comments here are pretty positive with country change? But I'm not fluent in German :(

Well some yes, some no. I was fighting some people there over Gregor as well :)) but yes at least some positive comments 😊

#ask #answered #thanks ❤ #and yeah it makes sense you find such nicer comments on standard #i have some theory when it comes to people's comments online her in austria #standard is pretty good relatively #you find some good and reasonable people there who know what they're saying #then there's laola #there are a lot more stupid hater people you know #but you still find some good one's #krone however is the worst #don't ever read these comments or try to discuss anything with them #i gave up on that #there are just trolls #make a good comment there they all downvote you #because it doesn't fit whatever they want to hate on #facebook is the same #especially on post from newspapers like krone there ofc ;) #i also stopped with facebook #haha probably no one cares about this but i had to share this 'theory' of mine #and if you were to live in austria you also probably shouldn't buy krone #bad newspaper same as the people there #go for standard or kleine zeitung i'd say xd

[malloryslourd]

Madison Dating Goodeday’s Daughter

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Warnings: Some Strong Language, Mentions Of Alcohol Use, Suggestive Themes

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A/N: yea yea i did it😼 these are crazy long tho so... oops maybe

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before you two even get together there’s always a weird aura around the way you two act with each other

Madison still made her snarky comments but they were better categorized as backhanded compliments instead of her standard bitchy remarks

being raised by a Cordelia and Misty you were always taught to be as nice as possible, but the other girls notice you’re a lot nicer to Madison than anyone else

if you ever need to run an errand Madison volunteers to go with you

only to “get out of the house” tho

if you volunteer to do the dishes after dinner she conveniently will stay behind to help

if she needs help with a spell or class you’re always free to give help

it’s all just really convenient

one of those convenient nights when everyone’s already went to their own rooms and settled, you two were downstairs cleaning up the kitchen

Madison was making jokes about the other girls that you laughed at even tho they were a little rude

after a while the laughter and struggling to breathe at moments turns into a tense silence, the two of you sharing quick glances as you moved around the room

you’d finally stop to take a breath and look at her out of the corner of your eye

“You’ve been a lot nicer to me than usual, you know?”

Madison stopped cold, trying to think if it was that obvious that she had been

“I don’t... You...”

“It’s not a problem. Like, not to say you’ve been outstandingly mean to me. You’ve always been... nice”

you’d both fall quiet again, waiting for the other to continue on

“You’re easier to be nice to. You’re not like everybody else”

the conversation would end again, actually allowing for some cleaning to get done

after that you both hurried to finish and go your own way to your rooms

the convo had been awkward enough, there was no reason to continue it

the next day you talked to Mallory and Zoe about it

“I don’t know... it was just, like, weird to be honest”

Zoe would most def be like “Yeah it was weird because you’re in love with her”

#ZoeIsNoHelp

you kinda both distanced yourself from each other for a bit, neither of you wanting to be alone in a room with the other

it didn’t take long for another confrontation to take place

it would happen at a party thrown at the coven when Misty and Cordelia were away

after a few hours of music too loud to handle and few sips of whatever the hell Coco created in the kitchen, thoughts became words a lot easier

you and Madi ended up sitting next to each other on a couch, not saying anything at first

then you would turn to her, grabbing her arm and tilting your head while you waited for her to acknowledge you

“Why don’t you hate me?” “What?” “Why don’t you hate me like everyone else? What did I do?” “I... I don’t fucking know!”

you’d blink at each other

you weren’t satisfied with that answer and she knew that

“Not cool Madi” “You’re not cool” “Bullshit, you think I’m cool” “Yea, sure I do. I think you’re the goddamn coolest” “Because I am!” “Whatever” “If I wasn’t cool you wouldn’t like me as much as you do. Admit it!” “I don’t like you!”

it was definitely the drinks that had made that hurt a lot more than it should’ve

“But do you really? Like do you like me or what?” “I was joking. Of course I like you” “Not like that... Do you like me?”

she would go extremely quiet, thinking about that fact that maybe she DID like you

“I... I think” “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” “I don’t fucking no!” “It’s a yes or no question Madi!” “Well then yeah, I like you! A lot!”

you’d let go of her arm slowly, both of you slightly leaning away from the other

“What the fuck am I doing?”

Madi would get up and hurry to the kitchen, you following her through the crowd of ppl

she leaned against the counter watching as you followed her in

you were pissed, what did that even mean

you’d start asking her what was wrong, saying that something was obviously keeping her from telling you the truth

after continuous “I don’t knows” and another cup of God knows what she would finally turn to you

“We can’t be together! Are you crazy?” “Why the fuck not?” “Are you serious? I literally have tried to kill your mother, very unsuccessfully! Everyone here hates me and everyone loves you! It just doesn’t make sense!”

you’d tell her it wasn’t true and shake your head

not everyone hated her, or at least in your mind, and if they did who really cared

“Well fuck them, I don’t care. If we like each other than so what? It doesn’t matter”

her face had somehow ended up in your hands and you both just stared at each other

after a very long discussion, interrupted by way too many drunk ppl, you both would somehow end up in your room, sitting on your bed, facing each other while holding hands and trying to figure out what the hell happened downstairs

you’d fall asleep taking about it, offering absolutely no help to clean after the party- very in character for Madison, very out of character for you

the relationship would be mostly secret from there

Queenie knows everything tho, she knows everything

it would be small changes around the house

the two of you sitting together for every meal, instead of Madi joining just a few errands it was almost all of them, you would go upstairs to go to bed at just around the same time

the girls put two and two together before Cordelia and Misty did

Zoe was $100 richer

Coco? not so much let’s just say that

they didn’t say anything, they knew it wasn’t their place

it was pretty easy for a while until there was a stupid slip up: Madi forgetting to lock your door after coming in to hang out with you

Misty would just walk in to the two of you laying on each other, one of your faces buried in the other’s neck

there was no getting out of it, she knew immediately- everything made sense at that moment

Misty and Cordelia are not the happiest about this relationship

you two were able to keep it secret for two months at the absolute most, but these women aren’t stupid

Cordelia is incredibly disappointed

Misty on the other hand is trying to figure out how long her prison sentence would be if she just so happened to kill someone

it would lead to a giant argument between the three of you, Madison secretly spectating from a bit of a distance to ensure her own safety

Cordelia would say something like “I’m over it, you two can’t be together”

the conversation wouldn’t end well

you’d end up walking out of the room to go rant to Madison or some of the other girls while absolutely fuming

you, Cordelia, and Misty would exchange very few words over the next two or three weeks, at least

Madi would be there to help with it tho

reassuring you that you did nothing wrong or everything would be okay

she would feel guilty, thinking about how she HAD done some pretty horrible things to them both in the past

but she was willing to fix that

your best interest was always Madison’s top priority

she wouldn’t want to ruin anything for you

so she would help you with whatever you needed- magic, chores, literally anything

you would insist it wasn’t necessary but that’s all she wanted to do

and plus it gave you both an excuse to be with each other more

the more time you two spent together the more considerate Madi became to everyone else

granted, everyone thought this was some type of prank or worse some type of sick trap, but it was nice (?)

Cordelia would notice it

the bitchy comments at dinner almost came to a stop(emphasis on the almost), she did what she had to around the house without having to be asked more than twice or so, and she stopped going out of her way to make ppl miserable

but she couldn’t help but notice you were a lot happier too

Misty on the other hand still thought this was all a coverup for some greater evil, or so she claimed

it wasn’t that she didn’t want to admit to the changes, she just didn’t want to admit to the causes of the changes

it did NOT make sense with her reality that her sweet baby was happy with someone so evil

Cordelia would be easier about it, there would be less times she would stop you going to Madi’s room or vice versa, she’d find herself smiling at the two of you getting along instead of being angry

Misty took a lot of convincing from Cordelia on the other hand

like multiple discussions before bed about how maybe they should cut Madison some slack

that girl was not having it at all

she comes around eventually

soon? no. but eventually? sure.

Madi might not be the best roommate to some of the girls but she’s genuinely a great partner

she always puts you first

no matter what

she likes to know that if there’s anything she can do to make you feel safe or loved, she’s doing it

if she’s not with you in person she texts you as often as she can without being annoying

study dates where you’re actually trying to help her but she’s on her phone the whole time or trying to convince you to give up

she’ll “accidentally” knock the book you’re reading off of the bed or out your hands

“Ugh, looks like we can’t do that anymore... Bummer”

you learn to just give up when she starts retaliating

she’ll sneak into your room after everyone goes to bed, greeting you with a quick kiss you both smile through

you only got caught once but Cordelia didn’t even care enough to say anything at the time, just a “don’t let it happen again” in the morning

it happened again

it’s literally most of the time just the two of you talking about whatever happened throughout the day or watching a movie and laughing at Madison making jokes about on of the actors

Madi is very physically affectionate, no matter where either of you are

she won’t admit it but she’s loves sweet soft kisses rather than a rough make out session- but only in private i feel??? she has a character to uphold outside of closed doors

you’ll be laying in bed and she’ll kiss your forehead and you cheek, smiling at you if you even try to act annoyed with her

the other girls are over the PDA... OVER IT

sometimes they can’t even go into the kitchen to get something to drink, it’s ridiculous

Misty is always disapproving of it, without fail

she’s so childish she would literally make gagging noises just seeing you two sit next to each other

she did that when Madison walked into a room before you two started dating but that’s not important

Madi is very much a Look-What-I-Have-And-You-Don’t type of person (always has been, always will be)

she loves to show you off

“So my girlfriend...” “Yeah my girlfriend...” “Did you see that my girlfriend...”

you would get embarrassed after so much of it, getting flustered everytime she would say “my” or “mine”

Madison lives a very expensive lifestyle, no surprise there, so she’s always buying you some type of gift

you come home and there would be a gift bag on your bed or she’ll text you telling you she had a surprise

she has trouble with saying what she means or being able to talk about how she feels so that’s one of her go-to’s when she can’t figure out how to say “I love you”

you try to tell her it’s not necessary but she doesn’t listen

the two of you could spend all day together and not get tired of the other

you find anything and everything to talk about

some conversations carry on for days sometimes

they’ll roll over right to the next morning without missing a beat

Madi loves to call you “Baby”, “Darling”, “Sweetheart”, and “Love”

the Madison-Calling-Her-SO-Mommy stuff started when she was drunk we don’t have time for that right now

anything that makes you feel special is okay with her

you call her “Sweetheart” and “Love” too, maybe “Babe” instead of “Baby”

with her being so possessive she would buy you a piece of jewelry with her initials on it

a ring, necklace, whatever it may be

and she would love to put it on for you

k, Madison loves a good hickey gotta admit

she has no shame in it either

she likes to both put them on someone and have them out on her

she wears hers a lot more proudly than you tho

the other girls make fun of you for it, saying it look like you got in a fight with someone

thankfully you’re able to hide them from Cordelia and Misty, and Madison is nice enough to make sure they don’t see hers

she notices that Misty is still hostile towards your relationship she would eventually take matters into her own hands

Madi would tell her that she knows her and Misty aren’t the best of friends but you made Madi happy and Madi made you happy and it still hurt you to see Misty so upset with you

Misty doesn’t know why hearing this from her made it anymore convincing than anyone else, but she would understand it now

Madison is always touching you to be honest

she’ll come up behind you and hug you from behind, kissing your shoulder and staying there without saying anything

she’d put her head in your lap and just start rambling about something that happened that day

“Are you ignoring me?” “Of course not” “What did I say?” “Something about... something” “ANYWAYS, back to what I was saying” “Great babe, yeah”

half of her twitter is dedicated to you let’s be real

Madison Montgomery Tweeted: My girlfriend is so much better than all of you :)

“Let’s go do something” “It’s 3 in the morning” “... So?”

driving around the city at night, listening to music and holding hands as you take random turns and streets neither of you had really ever been on

people telling you how much better Madison had been since you got together

going on date nights where the two of you argue over who’s gonna pay for thirty minutes

one of you ending up taking the card out of the others wallet before leaving the house

once both of you did this but you were able to come up with the cash together and a tip for the waiter after making them wait so long

Madi will walk into your room to find you studying or practicing your magic and go “Ugh, you and Zoe hang out too much”

she has the most embarrassing photo of you as he screensaver... like ma’am... this isn’t funny :|

the both of you have pictures with each other everywhere in you rooms

she doesn’t like to argue

she really does try her best to not upset you

so she learns how to be more open about her feelings instead of covering them up and acting as if nothing is bothering her

stargazing on nights neither of you can sleep

making sure to tell the other how much you love them at least once a day

#ahs #american horror story #ahs coven #american horror story coven #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse #ahs headcanon #american horror story headcanons #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs x reader #american horror story x reader #madison montgomery #madison montgomery x reader #madison montgomery imagine #emma roberts #emma roberts x reader #emma roberts imagine #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode imagine #misty day #misty day x reader #misty day imagine

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Fading Falsehoods (Part 9)

So I’ve gotten some feedback that people might be interested in Maizula. I might do what I did with Speak No Evil and have an alt story for Maizula if there’s enough interest. Feel free to drop a comment if you’d be interested in having a Maizula story too.

She isn't quite up to her standard when they tell her that it is time to depart. Ideally she would have given herself another begrudging week or two. She is lesser fond of appearing before a gaggle of foes with a fraction of her skills hindered. It is mostly stamina that isn't where she would desire but Zuzu is growing impatient and apparently the situation is growing dire.

She supposes that now would be a good time to get the rundown of her mission. Of Zuko's mission.

She has her own quest to think about. She will go to the small village if Hira'a and lay low. She isn't entirely certain of what she will do there, only that she will not be returning to that loathsome institute.

Escaping between coming home from the Foggy Swamp and her transfer back to the institute will be the tricky part. Likely she will have to run full tilt as soon as she steps off of the ship.

She leans herself against the railings of the boat. Mai finds a spot next to her. 

"Why did you come along anyways?" Azula inquires.

"What else am I gonna do?" She yawns. "The palace is so boring with everyone gone. It certainly won’t be the same without hearing you snap at everyone.” 

Azula frowns. “What’s this about anyways? What am I supposed to be doing?” 

“Zuko didn’t tell you?”

She isn’t about to confess that she hadn’t paid attention. That she had every intention of having been settled in Hira’a by now. “No. Between the scolding and the insulting and that pathetic whining he always does he hasn’t gotten around to it.” 

Mai shrugs, “he certainly didn’t tell me. He wanted me to stay home and ‘take it easy.’ Even TyLee would be able to figure out that he wants a break from me.” She sighs. “And yet he’s constantly begging me not to leave. He doesn’t make sense.” 

“He operates on emotion not logic.” She gives a dismissive hand flap. 

“Most people operate on emotion.” Mai shrugs. 

Lately it seems as though she is one of those people. She needs to get ahold of herself if she wants things to go her way. “Mai?”

“What?”

“Do you hate me?” 

Mai furrows her brows. “Why does it matter if I do?” 

Azula shrugs. It would be nice to know that at least one person doesn’t. That at least one person is rooting in her favor. It would be nicer still if she had help with her escape plan, she doesn’t particularly want to do it completely on her own. Of course, she will if it comes down to it but… “just curious.” 

“Just curious or just want a friend?”

Azula swallows. “Just curious.” 

“Just want a friend, got it.” Mai gives a slight smirk. Azula doesn’t know why the woman had inquired if she was just going to make her own answer. “No, I don’t hate you.” 

“Okay.” She stares into the water as the boat cuts through it. She lets several moments pass. “But say I did want a friend…”

“You do.” 

“Would that be, in theory, possible?”

“If, in theory, you actually asked.” 

Azula crosses her arms. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you say yes? You said it yourself, things were complicated.” She drums her fingers against her elbows. 

“Just because something is complicated, doesn’t mean that it’s a lost cause. Look, we were fighting a war. I had to pick a side. I didn’t like your father or anything he did. And you were on his side so…”

“You did it for Zuko.”

“I try to forget about that. I got some thanks didn’t I?” 

“He’s not a gracious person. In fact he takes everything he has for granted.” She supposes that she had too. At the very least she hadn’t anticipated ever losing it so she hadn’t thought to savor every last bit of the everything she had. 

The few people she thought that she could turn to. 

“I didn’t take you for granted.” 

Mai is quiet for a long time. “Yeah. I know.” 

.oOo.

Azula is much quieter now. She keeps to herself. Now and then she likes to spar with Mai on the boat’s deck. Suki is certain that the boat is making the princess antsy. It isn’t as small as a padded room and it isn’t as restrictive as being strapped to a wheelchair. But it is a lot more confined than a palace and a garden. Azula doesn’t particularly seem to like the water either, not now that they are deep into the ocean. 

“Exactly what is it that I’m going to be doing?” It is the first thing that she has said to Suki in two weeks, a little more now. 

“In the Foggy Swamp there’s this thing that Aang described as a rift or a bridge. It opened and there’s this window between this world and the Spirit World.” She pauses. “Apparently it was created by a few rouge spirits who are dissatisfied with the performances of the last few Avatars. And are even more dissatisfied with the war.”

“Then we have some common ground.” Azula comments. 

Suki flinches. They haven’t even reached Earth Kingdom territory and she is already siding with the enemy. “Well these spirits have been making trouble in the Earth Kingdom and they want to make some kind of reset. I think some kind of apocalypse. They want to start everything over.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“We need you to help us stop them.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“You think that they wouldn’t kill you?”

“You think that I wouldn’t have been perfectly content with that if Zuko hadn’t come to drag me out of that deplorable place?” Azula quirks a brow. 

Suki winces. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

Azula sniffs, “is it really so hard to believe that death is better than…nevermind. Why me? Why can’t you find someone who better fits your hero profile?”

“Because you have spirit fire.”

“Spirit fire?”

Suki furrows her brows. “You really don’t know, do you? Haven’t you wondered why your fire is blue?”

“Because I work…I used to work hard. I was more powerful than most firebenders…” Her eyes are growing distant again. 

“That’s  probably part of it. But according to Aang it’s also an indicator that your fire can harm spirits that otherwise don’t react to fire. It can kill spirits. You have the right mentality for it.” 

.oOo.

“So that’s it, I’m a bloody-thirsty attack dog then.” An unfeeling, unsympathetic monster. 

“That’s not��”

“I killed one person and that person was going into the Avatar state. That person would have killed me and a couple dozen Dai Li Agents. Your boyfriend drowned several perfectly respectable men. One on his birthday. One had a little boy he promised he’d come home to…” One of them had taken a beating from father for her. “But I’m the sadist here.” 

“Azula, that’s not what I was trying to imply.” 

“It’s what you succeeded in implying.” She exhales. It isn’t as though she didn’t already know what they thought of her. “It doesn’t matter, you aren’t exactly wrong.” Perhaps killing something will release some rage. 

Some hurt.

Why does it matter if she lets herself get cozy in the mold they have shaped for her. It isn’t as though she can wriggle her way out of their preconceived notions. 

Suki’s face seems to fall. “Look, if you don’t want to kill the spirits…”

“What if I find that I like them?” She quirks a brow. “What then? Perhaps you should throw me overboard as a precautionary measure.”

Suki shakes her head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Because I’m the only person with blue fire?” There is a tickle in her tummy and she can’t place whether it is glee at the prospect of pride, dread, or sorrow. “I guess you have a lose-lose situation, don’t you? Of course I won’t win either, but at least I won’t be alone this time.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Suki #Azuki #Zuko #Mai #Fanfiction

[justasparkwritings]

The Word of Your Body: Unpretty {1}

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Body Insecurity, Beauty Standards, Vulnerability 

Listening: Unpretty by TLC  

Master List

           Your face fell as you sat on the couch in your hotel room, staring at the picture you had asked Taehyung to take of you and Namjoon. You didn’t have any photos of you and your boyfriend, largely because paparazzi and Army didn’t know you existed. Which is how it had to be, and how you wanted it to be. But staring at the two of you, his arm around your waist, smile across his lips, you just stared.

           “It’s a cute photo,” Namjoon said, plopping down next to you.

           “Is it?” You asked, swiping to bring up the next photo. “Oh god,” You said in disgust.

           “What’s wrong?” He asked, zooming in on the photo.

           “Look at us!” You said.

           “I see it, I like it,” He said glancing away from your phone.

           “Well, yeah because you look hot 100% of the time,” You said, swiping to the next one. “Why did he take so many, and all of them suck?”

           “You look beautiful 100% of the time, and those photos don’t suck.”

           “No, I don’t,” You responded tossing her phone onto the couch.  

           “What is going on?” Namjoon asked, setting his phone on the coffee table and gingerly placing a leg underneath him so he could face you as you paced across the living room.

           “I look like, I look like a fucking whale,” You declared. The tears began prickling at the corners of your eyes and you blinked quickly to try and dissipate them.

           “Babe, you look beautiful,” He reassured.

           “Joon, stop.” You said, voice trembling.

           “I don’t know where this is coming from,” He replied, staring at you. His eyebrows were knitted together, unsure what his next move was supposed to be.

           “I just, I was looking forward to a cute photo of us, our first nice one, not stolen when you’re half asleep or doing something cute… Instead, I feel blind sighted by you and the whole fucking world,” That’s when the dam broke, tears cascading down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them on the sleeves of your favorite sweatshirt. It was baggy, ragged from a decade’s worth of comforting you in the darkest moments, it’s crinkling writing showing its age. Luckily the black sleeves didn’t show the betrayal you felt towards your body.

           “How did the world get brought into our photo?” He asked, still trying to find his place in your disdain.

           “Namjoon, what happens when the world sees us together? What happens when they know about me?”

           “I don’t know, they’ll be happy,” He answered. He’d thought about it, in terms of his contract and protecting her privacy. But the world seeing a photo of them? Wouldn’t they just be focused on how beautiful she is?

           “No, Joon. Part of Army will be happy. Part of them, a small part, will be encouraging others to be happy because you’re happy. The rest will be commenting on me,” You inhaled, trying not to deter your thoughts with the recognition you’re entering into a Kerry Washington style monologue. “They will be commenting on how I look. On how I dress, on why you don’t buy me nicer clothes. They’ll be sharing post after post about how you, Prince Namjoon, leader of their beloved, beloved, BTS, could be hand in hand with a woman like me.” You took in another quick breath, knowing if you breathed again a sob world overtake your entire body.

           “Babe let’s not think the worst,” Namjoon said, scanning your face for a sign of what he could do to help. He always thought Taehyung and Jung Kook were the most helpless members of BTS. He knew full well that many others thought he should be added to that group, particularly when it came to love and romance. Watching you pace, watching you try to hold in your cries, reminded him that they were right: he was clueless.  

           “It’s the truth, Joon! What do you think will happen?”

           “I, I don’t know,” He sighed. Admitting he hadn’t thought about it was worse than admitting he knew the reality. “I just want to protect you.”

           “They’re going to eviscerate me,” You stated.

           “No, they’re not,”

           “I’m a plus sized, biracial American. I don’t know what the Korean war was about, but Miss Saigon traumatized me as a child.”

         “Isn’t that about Vietnam? Madame Butterfly is Vietnam,” Namjoon held back a laugh.  

         “See! I don’t speak Korean. I clearly don’t understand the culture! I barely understand your music. I’m not white enough, I’m not black enough, I’m for sure not Korean enough. I have spent my entire life knowing that I have to work twice as hard to be thought of as half as good. Even then, my opportunities are given to me because I fit a quota, or I sound white enough to pass.”

         “Those are so many of the reasons I like you so much, I mean, not the passing part, I don’t know much about that,” Namjoon trailed off as he realized he probably needed to become more educated in African American history, at least to understand his girlfriend.

         “It doesn’t matter, Namjoon.”

         “Why doesn’t it? I think you’re beautiful. I think you are sexy and honestly, it’s a fact. The fact is, you are beautiful. Stunning, your eyes, your heart…”

         “Do you know what it’s like to feel unpretty? To feel ugly?” You asked, arms tight across your chest.

         “I, yes,” He said.

         “To be told by every film, every magazine, every doctor, that your body is wrong. To walk through life with people giving you glances when you eat a cookie, wondering if you’re already diabetic, applauding you when you exercise, shaming you when you can’t fit into a size large. Do you know what it’s like, to try on clothes and realize they don’t carry a size that fits your body? And having to tell the sales associate that no, you don’t want the bigger size because it doesn’t exist?”

         “Babe, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon stared. He didn’t know the photo Taehyung took would open you bare.

         “To wear your retainer for 15 years to ensure your face is still pretty because your body isn’t?” You felt the sob before it roared out of you, tears sending you to your knees. You hadn’t planned on baring you soul to him or parading your insecurities around like a diamond engagement ring. It had just overwhelmed you, not just the photo, but the thought that someone could find it. You were confident that Big Hit was doing their job to ensure your safety, and Namjoon’s, but there were people out there bent on finding the cracks in BTS. The idea that a private moment, a photo you really did love, would be tossed around, sent to gossip mag after gossip mag, commented on by millions, crashed into you like a train. So here you sat, on the floor, tears and snot barreling down your face.

         “If they don’t tear me apart because I’m not Asian, they’re going to tear be apart because I’m a fucking size 18.”

           “Then, why don’t you work out with me?” He gasped the minute the words came out of his mouth and scrambled to sit next to you on the floor. “I didn’t,”

           “No, you didn’t.” You looked up at him, not realizing he was now next to you, arm beginning to pull you to him.  “I don’t want to fucking exercise with you. Look at you! Would you want to?” You made an excellent point, “Oh wait, you already do with the 6 other members of BTS. I saw the way they looked at me, Joon. When I first met them… They looked at me like I was another American stereotype. The fat black girl. And I’m fucking not,”

         “I know you’re not baby, you’re so strong, and flexible,” Namjoon said, peppering kisses on your cheek.

         “Don’t try to turn this into sex,” You responded, touching your ear to your shoulder in an attempt to sway him from kissing the exposed skin of his neck.

         “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say other than I love your body.”

         “I love my body to,” You said.

         “I love that it houses you, your brain, your thoughts, your sense of rhythm, your laugh.” He smiled as he continued, “I love how it feels in my hands, cuddled next to me on the couch, your hand in mine. I love that it holds your heart, your kindness, your empathy, your deep understanding of others. I love that it holds me, when I need it, when I’m falling short, it never turns me away, no matter how long I’ve been gone from it.” He kissed your temple, grateful that you let him hold you so close.

         “I am really flexible,” You said, tilting your head to meet his lips.

         “You do Barre, which I have done twice and never again because I couldn’t walk the next day! You tap dance! I still don’t understand how you make those sounds with your feet. And, baby you sing.”

         “I can sing… Mostly,” You said nodding. Your singing was something Namjoon knew, and only Namjoon. You barely opened your mouth in front of the other members, unless it was to rap a song you knew 100%. That was one of the first things Namjoon had fallen in love with, the fact that you could spit Kendrick Lamar lyrics better than he could.

         “Your body is amazing,” He whispered.

         “Joon, I love my body. I love myself. I am my own best friend.”

         “I know, which is why I’m so lucky you share it with me,”

         “I’m smart as hell, I’m funny as shit. And, let’s not forget: my charm.”

         “So much charm, more than Jimin,” He said, smile creeping back onto his lips.

         “I’m not willing to open myself to criticism or put you in a position to defend me. I am strong on my own. I will not be shamed for my body or my looks or some superficial comment from someone I don’t know. But I’m scared that they, Army, columnists, paparazzi, media in general, is going to find a way to weasel its way into my psyche and make you see me differently or make me see myself differently. I’ve worked my entire life to love my body and I am scared that they will take it from me,” You said, the temporary drought having been good to your tear ducts, giving them time to refill their stores to surplus.

         “I know that feeling,” The crimson of his sweatshirt had leapt to paint streaks across his cheeks.

         “You do?” You whispered.

         “Of course. You haven’t read our contract… But we’ve been a band for over ten years? You’ve seen the tweets, you’ve seen the look changes, the outfits… I have spent ten years next to Taehyung and Jung Kook, not to mention Suga and Jimin or J-Hope. How can you forget Mr. Worldwide Handsome? I know what people say, I can’t help but hear it. At first, it was hard. It was hard to conform, to create an image that I didn’t feel like I belonged to. It’s still hard. What do I have going for me?”

         “Joon,” You kissed his cheek briefly.

         “I hear what you’re saying, about how others view you. They view me too, with criticism and judgement. Korean beauty standards are out of this world. I don’t have the features that they love, that they praise… And I know it. They make sure I know it. But I get to live my dream, I get to create music and support my family because of the band. I get to do it with my brothers, and it makes me feel strong, because I am,”

         “Do you feel sexy? Or handsome?” You asked.

         “Sometimes,” He said, interlocking your fingers.

         “Joon, babe,” You straightened your back, staring into his eyes.

         “I feel that way because you make me feel sexy and wanted. You like me no matter what my hair is, or what I’m wearing, or if I’ve spent two hours at the gym,” The crimson returned, this time in result of your kind words, and turned into a blush, gentle and sweet.

         “All those things you like about me?” You cooed, a hand under his chin, tilting it towards you.

         “Yeah?” He questioned, eyes meeting yours.

         “I like those things in you, too,” You said.

         “It’s hard though,” He responded.

         “Namjoon?” You asked.

         “Yes?”

         “Thank you,” You squinted your eyes, memorizing the way his expression relaxed.

         “For what?” He wondered.

         “For listening to my insecurities and not belittling them,” You said, squeezing his hand.

         “Honestly, I was worried I was fucking up the whole time,” He let out a chuckle.

         “No, you did great. And thank you for sharing yours with me.”

         “Thank you for listening,” He met your gaze.

         “In case you’re curious, you’re sexy as hell, and not only because your body is banging,” You said kissing him quickly and standing up.

         “Where are you going?”

         “I need to wash my face, too much snot and tears. You want to join me?”

Next: Strip

#namjoon #kim namjoon #RM #RM / Reader #RM / You #Kim Namjoon / You #BTS #bangta boys #unpretty #TLC #story #the word of your body #spring awakening #imagine #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet

[ma-sulevin]

Mattie’s made it to the Henbane! You know what that means?

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E, but mostly for swearing Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 5939, chapter three of twelve

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

It wasn’t so bad at the marina, but the deeper into the Henbane they get, the more Mattie feels like she’s been smacked right in the sinuses with like a bat or a metal pipe or something. The pollen from the fucking fields of fucking bliss is so pervasive that she sneezes once every ten minutes on the dot, more than once alerting a nearby peggie to her hiding spot.

She just wants to pop three Benadryl and take an eighteen-hour nap. Maybe that would help.

Hurk and Boomer stay with her, neither of them particularly bothered by the clouds of icky greenish pollen floating in the wind, sticking with her through all the snot and the sneezing. Hurk is a constant source of chatter, which could be annoying but is actually pretty nice when the alternative is sitting in her own head worrying about everything that’s going on.

Joey. Staci. Earl. Burke. She hasn’t died again, and now she’s not sure those times weren’t bliss hallucinations. If they were -- could they happen again? Is she going to wake up in a hospital in Missoula strapped to the bed as a 10-96, her reputation in Hope County ruined?

Listening to Hurk’s (made up, she assumes) tales of the Monkey God and Kyrat is a much nicer way to spend her time. It’s good for a laugh, at least. The man is a little scattered, but he’s a natural storyteller under all that.

Mattie keeps an eye out for rogue peggie helicopters, but getting Tulip back for Adelaide isn’t her top priority by any stretch of the imagination. If she’s meant to find it, she’ll find it, and she’s not going to waste time and energy driving around until she stumbles across the right vehicle. There are real lives on the line she needs to take care of first.

A couple days after they leave the marina, Mattie’s radio comes to life once more with a request for help that has Hurk cheering before she can really parse out the message.

“Hell yeah, Sharky here--” (excited whooping) “--brain-dead cultists at the trailer park.”

“That’s my baby cousin!” Hurk says, somehow fucking bouncing even with that RPG cradled in his arms like a thirty-pound infant. “He’s at the Moonflower, let’s go get him!” He pins her in place with a hopeful look that she assumes he perfected on his mother -- and then sighs because it works.

She knows Sharky by reputation, even if she’s never personally arrested him before. She’s heard Staci and Joey talk about him, and she’s seen his wanted poster still up by the Spread Eagle even though he’s not actually wanted and is out on probation, probably.

“Okay, fine.” She makes a shooing motion at him and he sets off at a jog, heading up the mountain at a pace she knows he’ll be tired of in just a few minutes. She follows anyway, more sedately, along with Boomer, and they catch up with Hurk soon enough.

About halfway up, they find a car abandoned on the side of the dirt road. There’s blood smeared on the front passenger seat and on the door, and Hurk happily climbs in the back with Boomer, leaving Mattie to climb in the relatively clean driver’s seat.

The rest of the way to the trailer park is peaceful, no cultists or bliss fields, and Hurk barely snickers when she sneezes hard and accidentally jerks the wheel to the right and runs them through the grass for a bit.

Okay, next time they come across a gas station or a truck stop or a corner store or just a regular old house that hasn’t been ransacked: she’s dosing up on Claritin. This shit is getting old.

“This used to be a real nice trailer park,” Hurk comments, leaning forward in his seat to speak almost directly into her ear. She parks the borrowed vehicle a safe distance away from another one that’s already on fire, and they both watch as something inside the fence explodes. “Not so much anymore.”

She snorts, then coughs into her elbow. “Apparently not. Let’s go.”

They climb out and Boomer runs ahead, nose to the ground and tail wagging. There don’t seem to be any cultists hanging around right now, so she keeps her weapons safely holstered even though Hurk doesn’t bother with the same courtesy, just waves with one hand when he sees a man standing on top of one of the trailers.

Mattie casts a critical eye around the place as they climb up one of the ladders to walk across the makeshift platforms. Obviously this used to be a pretty standard trailer park, small but with a cute little playground in the middle for the kids. There are no cars sitting around other than hers and the one that was on fire, and the only bodies she can see are wearing Eden’s Gate clothes. Most of the residents must have joined up with the cult or turned tail before Sharky took over.

When they get close enough, they can see Sharky is holding a flame thrower which, okay, it’s technically legal, but it still makes Mattie frown to see him with one, and apparently that frown makes her look too much like a law enforcement officer, because Sharky takes a whole step back and yells, “You’ll never take me alive!”

Mattie just stares at him. Sharky stares right back.

Hurk laughs. “Man, we ain’t here to arrest you. You think I’d bring the cops to a barbeque like this? The dep’s cool, man.”

Sharky looks her up and down and then cocks his head to the side. “ ...oh, you’re not here to arrest me?” When she shakes her head, still frowning a bit, he shrugs and seems to accept her at her word. “Cool, sorry. I am Victor Charlemagne Boshaw, but--”

She listens as he launches into his speech about who he is and what they’re going to be doing over the next few minutes, and she knows it’s a terrible idea, and it must just be whatever genetics Hurk and Sharky share beyond frankly ridiculous names, but his enthusiasm is infectious and she finds herself agreeing to help him even though she shouldn’t.

The people he’s luring in need help. They need to be taken away from the Seeds’ influence and given to someone who can de-condition them, whatever that looks like. She doesn’t know how this stuff works -- it wasn’t covered in school or in the training she got from the Sheriff’s Department.

Her mind changes when she finally sees an Angel up close. Its eyes are completely white, unseeing but not in the way someone who’s simply lost vision would look. There’s a green shimmer to them, and standing too close makes her head spin around like she’s wandered too close to a bliss field again. They fight with inhuman strength, giving more of themselves over to the trouble than any human in their right mind would, and they shake off injuries that would bring down a normal person.

They’re fucking zombies. She nearly gets bit by one, saved only by the stained white mask covering its face, and it grunts and growls and then screams when she puts a bullet between its eyes. The sound makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, a shiver go down her spine.

What the fuck has Faith been doing to them?

What the fuck.

After the last Angel is put down and the last cognizant cultist is also put down, and Sharky’s speakers are all disconnected from his stereo, and Mattie is done celebrating the fact that she managed to not fucking die this time , Hurk and Sharky jog up to where she’s sitting on the playground steps reloading her rifle. They’re both keyed up, excited after the battle and running on adrenaline, but she’s just tired now.

She keeps saying it, but she’s so goddamn tired.

The first thing out of Sharky’s mouth is, “That was fuckin’ hot and uhhh not just cause of the fire.” She freezes, her rifle across her knees, the magazine in one hand and a few loose bullets in the other. Hurk is grinning at him, the beginnings of a laugh starting to bubble up, and Sharky immediately turns red and starts talking faster. “I mean, that didn’t help, but. I mean. Anyway. You did good, shorty, and if you want me to join up with you and Hurky, just say the word.”

Mattie clears her throat and goes back to putting the bullets back in the magazine. The smoke and gasoline fumes are mixing with her already irritated sinuses to give her a headache, and she has to pause to sneeze into her elbow again before she comes up with an answer.

“Sharky? If you burn down every field of bliss we come across, you can follow me anywhere.”

He absolutely lights up at her promise, face breaking into a wide grin as he does a little jig like he just can’t contain his joy.

It’s cute.

She ignores it.

---

“I don’t wanna argue with your plan or nothin,” Sharky says, tone conversational and voice loud over the roar of his flamethrower, “but do you think this is like… lightin’ up a giant joint?” 

Mattie laughs behind the bandana she has tied over her face. “I wouldn’t be upset about it if it wasn’t a hallucinogen,” she says. “It’s one thing to be high and another to think you can fly when you’re on the edge of a cliff.”

Sharky glances at her over his shoulder, eyeing her up and down. “You’re kind of unusual, for the fuzz.”

She shrugs, glances away before he does, catching movement out of the corner of her eye that’s probably just Boomer or Hurk. “These are unusual times, dude.” The movement isn’t either of her other companions, so she wanders a little closer while Sharky continues burning the plants. 

“Be careful!” She can barely hear his voice now, but it doesn’t occur to her to turn back to him, back to safety. “You can’t trust your senses out here!”

There are lights flashing in her vision, and she pauses to rub at her eyes with her knuckles. The lights are still there when she opens them again, her chest tight, and she pulls her bandana down so she can breathe freely.

It’s a mistake.

The bliss hits her full force, knocking her off balance, the vertigo from the marina back as Faith steps in front of her.

“Welcome to the bliss.”

Faith’s hands are on her shoulders, slipping down her arms to her hands, then she’s slipping away, and Mattie is following her without question, without even trying to grab a weapon , just… blindly following this woman through bliss pollen so thick it might as well be fog.

Faith stays just a step away the whole time, no matter how fast Mattie moves or how she lunges, giggling and twirling and speaking about who she really is in a sing-song voice.

Mattie barely even notices she’s on top of Joseph’s statue because Burke is there too, and when she tries to tackle him, he just… steps off the statue as Faith urges Mattie to do the same.

And, still surrounded by the bliss… she does.

---

“Oh, she’s waking up. Come on, Dep, you okay, man?”

She opens her eyes slowly, forcing herself to move even though every fiber of her being is screaming for her to keep her eyes closed and surrender to the white black white she’s gotten used to, that she’s started to miss just plowing through Hope County like it’s her own personal sandbox to destroy however she wants.

“I knew we shouldn’t have stuck around after the bliss started burning,” Sharky says, his voice coming from her other side. She can’t see either man, just the blue sky above her. There’s a single cloud that’s almost a perfect circle. “And you know I love fire, man, it’s just the best.”

She squeezes her eyes closed again, tight enough that she can see white lights that don’t have anything to do with bliss, then she opens them and sits up. She’s wobbly, but two sets of hands are there to help her, overlapping chatter from the two men drowning out her spiraling thoughts.

One of them hands her a water bottle and she drinks from it, unconcerned with the dampness from the grass cooling on her shirt and sinking deeper into her worn jeans. The water is warm and unpleasant, but she forces herself to swallow three mouthfuls before passing it back.

“Mayor’s on the radio,” Hurk says, talking a little louder to cut Sharky off. “Says they got supplies over in the jail, maybe they can help. Here, cuz, where’s the radio?”

Sharky produces the little hand-held with a flair, and Mattie wonders if they took it to call for help but doesn’t have time to ask because it’s switched on and she can hear Minkler’s voice coming through all tinny. “ Anyone looking for refuge, come to the Hope County Jail. We have beds and food here. ”

The radio goes silent and Hurk clicks it off. Mattie stares off in the direction she thinks the jail is instead of looking at either of the guys, and then she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t really want to go back to the jail, doesn’t want to see what happened to it once Joseph’s people took over, doesn’t want to face anyone she might know.

“It would be nice to have some real food,” she says, voice hoarse and throat raw. “Like, some vegetables.”

Both the boys are nodding, but Sharky’s the one who opens his mouth first. “I am not going to lie to you,” he says. “I have not pooped in six days.”

Mattie’s attention snaps from the crest of the hill to Hurk’s eyes, then they’re both turning to look at Sharky, whose face is a little screwed up like he’s not totally sure he actually said that out loud , and then... 

They’re all laughing, the tension broken, worry she hadn’t realized was on their faces melting away. She starts to stand and they both haul themselves to their feet and pull her up with them, propping her up between them, and she lets them because it’s been weeks since she felt the warmth of another human’s touch.

She lets Hurk drive, lets Sharky sit up front next to him, stretches herself across the back seat with Boomer on the floor, listens to them chatting about how weird it is that Hurk and his dad have the same name, smiles at the absurdity of it all, then frowns when guilt at feeling happy when her friends are being tortured sneaks in.

It takes a few minutes to get to the jail, driving slowly down the mountain and along switchbacks that Hurk is taking much more carefully than she really thought he would, and she’s able to stare at the trees passing upside down over her head. 

“Oh, shit, man.” The car comes to an abrupt stop and Mattie almost slides off the seat and onto Boomer. “Looks like peggies got the jail.”

Mattie’s stomach clenches; a cold sweat stands out on her skin. She sits up, leaning forward with her hands on the front seats. Sharky looks over at her, but she just stares through the windshield, squinting to see the details. There are peggies absolutely swarming in the front parking lot, up the hill from where Hurk pulled the car to a stop. 

“Shit.” Mattie digs her fingernails into the front seats, letting the little pricks of pain ground her for the half-second she needs to pull her thoughts away from fresh food and back to fighting. The peggies are overwhelming the jail; they need to help. “Jesus Christ, fucking -- okay. Hurk, do not blow up the jail, there are civilians in there. Find something off to the side, make a distraction. I’ll come in from the other side.”

“What do you want me to do, Dep?” Sharky asks, still too loud but serious now. His fingers are drumming on the door handle, ready to go.

She bites her lower lip, accidentally pulls a piece of dead skin off. “Fuck shit up.”

He hops out of the car and cheers. Hurk follows suit, and she jumps out with Boomer more quietly, double checking her AR-C before she follows them up the hill.

The place is a disaster. There are burnt-out cars in the parking lot, enough smoke floating through the air to make her eyes water, peggies screaming and attacking the outside walls. There are people she doesn’t recognize up on top, behind the razor wire, and she hopes they see her red flannel, Hurk’s stars-and-stripes, or Sharky’s green hoodie and realize they’re not peggies, hopes the smoke and chaos won’t be their downfall.

She doesn’t want to have to do this again, too.

Two peggies fall under her spray of bullets as something explodes off to the left side of the jail. As she’d hoped, the peggies scramble around, not sure who’s attacking them, and it makes it easy for her to sneak around and snap the neck of a third man.

When her radio crackles to life, she almost doesn’t hear it. “ Hey is that you, Rook? ” Earl. Earl. It’s Earl. He’s alive. He’s here? She blinks hard to clear her eyes of tears that suddenly have nothing to do with the smoke and squats behind a car that smells of burned rubber, pulling her radio to her face to hear the rest of his message: “ Ah, Christ, help us out here. ” 

She starts to press the talk button but a woman spots her, runs over with a shovel raised, and Mattie has enough time to wonder who shows up to a prison siege with only a shovel as a weapon before she has her pistol up and puts a bullet between the woman’s eyes.

When the last parking lot peggie falls, there are a few seconds where the only sounds are the roaring of flames, and then one of the doors in the wall opens. She walks through, doesn’t look back to see if Hurk or Sharky are following her, just steps into the courtyard and waits.

“Holy shit.” She snaps around to see Earl weaving his way through the rubble, his hat on his head and a smile on his face. He looks good, he looks healthy, and he’s trying to talk to her but she’s throwing her arms around his neck and bursting into tears before he has a chance to get out a full sentence.

He grunts and staggers back a step, but his arms still wrap around her waist and he squeezes her almost as tightly as she’s squeezing him. He rubs one hand up and down her back, soothing, shushing her when it only makes her cry harder.

She doesn’t care that she’s standing in the middle of the courtyard where everyone can see her. She doesn’t care that she’s getting tears and snot all over the shoulder of her boss’ uniform. All she cares about is that he’s alive, and he’s healthy, and he’s not an angel or trapped in a bunker, and she’s so overwhelmed with relief that she doesn’t know how to handle herself anymore.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” He cups the back of her head like he might a child’s, comforting, and she draws in a shaky breath in an effort to just stop fucking crying. “We’re okay.”

She squeezes him even tighter for half a second then forces herself to step back. It feels like she has to unclench each of her fingers individually, has to scrape the toes of her stolen boots over the crumbling asphalt before she can give him the space she’s supposed to. She wipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands, wipes at her running nose and makes an ungodly noise when she intends to make a dainty sniffle.

“Sorry.”

“You’re alright,” he says, again, this time clapping her on the shoulder like he used to sometimes. “You really saved our bacon. The peggies’ve been throwing themselves at these walls for days. They just won’t let up.” He looks at the injured stretched out on the ground, then back to meet her eyes, a grim look on his face. “We really kicked open the hornets’ nest.”

Yeah. Yeah. They weren’t ready to arrest Joseph, should have waited longer or should have done it months earlier, before John had bought up so much of the county, before Jacob started kidnapping the locals, before Faith perfected her bliss formula, before everything went to shit.

Their moment of silence is interrupted by a man yelling a warning from the high walls, then being pushed back by a grenade. He falls in front of Mattie, his body hitting the asphalt with a sickening thunk. Blood pools under his head and his eyes stare, unseeing, up at the blue sky.

Earl jumps into action before she does, numbed as she is by everything. He checks the man’s pulse, yells for a medic, and part of her brain that she’d tried to bury wants her to respond. I’m a medic. I know that man’s gone. 

He snaps her out of it. “I need you up on that wall, Rook,” he says, and he looks sorry to say it, but his silent regret doesn’t make the need less dire, doesn’t mean not fighting back won’t lead to all of them being tortured at the hands of Faith or her brothers.

So… she does it. She does what he asks her to, does what she needs to do to protect the people in the jail. Minkler fights by her side for as long as he can, but he’s a politician, not a soldier, and the second time he trips over his own feet, she shoves him in the shoulder and tells him to get the fuck inside.

Sharky and Hurk fight with her too, performing better than she thought they would when she first saw them. Hurk, in particular, is able to keep his mouth shut and grenades sailing through the air with remarkable precision, so much so that she starts to think there’s some truth to the wild stories he’s been spinning in their down time. Sharky swaps his flamethrower out for a more reasonable AK-47, and she smiles when she sees it but doesn’t bother to reflect on why she thinks that weapon is reasonable, just keeps fighting.

It’s all she can do.

Just keep fighting.

---

“So are you fucking the sheriff, or…?” Sharky lets the tail end of his question trail off, like he hadn’t already asked the most important part, the part that has her wrinkling her nose in distaste before she starts laughing. He blinks at her, lips pulling up in a grin when she starts to laugh, and pulls his hat off to run his hand through his hair. It sticks up when he’s done, dirty, greasy from hours of sweating under the brim, and she’s happy the jail still has working showers.

“No,” she says. “I’m not. I’ve never even thought -- why would you ask that?” She sits on the edge of the cot she’s been assigned even though there’s still dirt on the seat of her jeans, starts untying her boots as she listens to Sharky take a sharp breath before launching into what she assumes is going to be quite the speech.

“It’s just, you were pretty happy to see him, I guess.” He pauses and sighs. “I’ve never seen anybody cry that hard into a hug.”

Mattie sits up and scratches the tip of her nose. She can feel her cheeks heating up a bit as he stares at her, waiting. “The Seeds have all my other friends. I thought they had him too.” She shrugs and fiddles with the tail of her shirt, rubbing the soft cotton between her fingers. Sharky’s looking at her with something a little too understanding on his face, so she looks down into her lap and chews at the dead skin on her lip.

“Hurky and me, we’ll help you get your friends back,” he says, squeezing the bill of his hat between his hands. She watches the motion, the nervousness of it, then meets his gaze just before he says, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The earnestness on his face, of his offer, makes her smile. It eases the tight ball in her chest, and she takes what feels like the first full breath of the day. “I really appreciate it, Sharky.”

He shrugs, dismissing her thanks. “Once you get the other deputies back, you still won’t arrest me, right? For all the fire, and the murdering, and all?” He pitches his voice lower, but he’s still too loud. It’s like the man never learned how to whisper.

She stands and knocks his shoulder with her fist. “If anyone’s getting in trouble for what we’ve been doing out there, it’s me. You’re fine. I promise we won’t arrest you.”

“Okay, good,” Sharky says, voice brightening again. “You gonna shower now?”

“Mhm. Be right back.” She knocks him in the shoulder again for good measure.

He throws his hat at her back as she walks away.

---

She doesn’t remember dying this time. She knows what it feels like -- getting shot, falling too far, having her neck snapped, drowning, being run over by a car, or being struck in the face with the butt of some peggie’s rifle -- but she doesn’t know which of those things put her in the black white black this time.

She doesn’t remember, but she’s trapped here, searching through a place she can’t see for an exit she’s not sure exists.

Is this the final time? Has she used up her thirty lives and is now doomed to run through this place for the rest of eternity? Was she supposed to do something different, behave better, make choices for good and she ran out of chances and this is what hell is?

She grew up expecting a lake of fire, not this… nothingness.

She can’t stop the sobs, can’t stop herself from screaming for help even though it's useless.

She screams and screams and screams and

She wakes up with a start, her limbs jerking like she suddenly fell, and she tries to sit up but there’s a hand in hers and another wiping tears from her face. It doesn’t feel like a threat, so she relaxes and forces her eyes to look at something other than the ceiling.

For half a second, she’s certain the gentle touches belong to Joey, like she’s fallen asleep during a movie night and Joey’s absently stroking her hair. A half-second after that, she’s certain the gentle touches belong to Staci, because the hands are bigger than Joey’s, and he never complained when she flopped on him like a cat needing attention.

“There you are, shorty.” Sharky’s voice reminds her where she is and who she’s with, and she draws in a wet, shaky breath as the reality of everything crashes full-force into her. His fingers tighten around hers, and she curls her body around that point of contact. “You been crying in your sleep and didn’t wanna wake up, but you calmed down as long as I was holding your hand.”

She wipes her face on the back of her sleeve. “Sorry,” she says, voice thick and wet. “Did I wake you up?”

He brushes her hair away from her face. “Nah, I was still awake. Don’t worry about it.”

It doesn’t seem right that this large, boisterous man should be the one comforting her in the middle of the night, but she can’t help the impulse that tells her to nuzzle into his hand. She turns into it, blinking up at him in the dim light of what used to be the department’s bullpen, and he grins back down at her.

He’s sitting on the floor at the edge of her cot, long legs stretched out on the dirty tile floor, still in his jeans but now without his boots or hoodie. He’s got a ratty wifebeater tank on instead, stretched out at the neckline, and she can see faded swirls of ink on one of his biceps. She huffs out a laugh, and he squeezes her fingers in reply.

“How long’ve you been sitting there?”

She doesn’t mention their entwined fingers. He doesn’t seem keen to bring it up either.

“Uhh, dunno, like thirty minutes?” He shrugs, still playing with her hair. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

“I took like… four benadryl after my shower.” She starts to roll onto her back to stretch, and he releases her, moving back a little like he’s going to get on his bed. “I was dreaming that, uhm.” How best to describe it? He won’t believe her. “I was just trapped and no one could hear me.”

He nods again. “Don’t like small spaces?”

She actually does laugh this time, a sharp noise that surprises them both. “You could say that, yeah.” She considers telling him more, then remembers something he said earlier. “Wait, you’re still awake? Not sleeping?”

“Can’t always make my brain shut off,” he says. “Specially these days.”

She turns back onto her side and props herself up on one elbow, considering, weighing the pros and cons and the chances he’ll take what she wants to say the wrong way… then she decides a guy who’s willing to sit on the cold, hard floor holding her hand for half an hour to make her feel better is exactly the kind of guy she can trust.

“Come lie down with me.”

He blinks at her, cocks his head to the side like a puppy, like he’s not sure he heard her right. 

“I always sleep better when there’s someone with me. Maybe you will too.” When he doesn’t respond right away, she adds: “Humans need touch. It’s good for you. Just hop up here and go to sleep.”

He’s surprisingly silent, but he moves from his cot to hers, sits on the side to test the waters, then stretches out next to her when she doesn’t do anything to make him think her offer is a joke. She makes room for him, waits for his head to hit the pillow before she cuddles against his side, curling into his warmth with a self-satisfied sigh.

“See? It’s nice.”

It helps her forget the cold emptiness of the black white black in her dream, reminds her that this is real and she’s real and the people she’s fighting for are real too.

He jumps a little when he hears her voice, then he rolls onto his side, toward her. She gives him room to settle, then moves back in, head tucked under his chin.

“All good?”

He takes in a deep breath, lets it out in a slow exhale before he replies. “Yeah. You’re right.” His arm loops over her waist, just resting, then pulls her a little closer. “All good.”

---

Sharky doesn’t say anything about her nightmare or her offer-slash-demand for three a.m. cuddles, just slips out of her bed without waking her up from the second half of her nine-hour benadryl nap, leaving behind a cold spot and a pillow that smells faintly of gasoline. She was right though, sleeping with another body next to her soothed her until she was able to float dreamlessly through the rest of the night. 

She can only hope he feels the same.

Breakfast is instant coffee and a crumbly granola bar eaten at Earl’s side as he and the mayor take turns talking about events around the Henbane: bliss in the water, bliss plants growing unchecked, angels wandering along the roads, and Burke still with Faith.

“I can’t leave Joey and Staci to go after Burke.” She feels guilty even as she says it, knows the importance of the Marshal, but… “I can’t. You haven’t seen what I have.”

Minkler looks shocked, but Earl is nodding before she’s even finished her sentence.

“You do what you need to do, Rook,” he says. “We’re counting on you.”

She nods at him even though that makes her angry -- why is everyone counting on her? Why is this her responsibility? She’s not the only one in Hope County who’s physically capable of fighting back against the Seeds; she’s not even the most qualified.

She’s just the one person who managed to completely escape the Seeds on that first night.

“Hey.” His voice, pitched low, draws her out of that cloud of anger, and she blinks up at him as he says, “Stay safe out there, okay?”

The fight bleeds out of her as she sighs. “You too.”

Sharky and Hurk are already dressed and kitted up, standing by the jail gates and arguing good-naturedly about something. She catches just the tail end of the discussion, right when Hurk raises his voice and throws his arms out to the side: “--show my chimps, that’s right, they’re chimps, some respect! And don’t go slanderin’ their names!”

Sharky catches her eye and her confused expression and starts laughing even harder, tipping his head back and letting the sound echo around the courtyard. It’s catching, and she finds herself laughing before she has time to remember why she’d been frowning in the first place.

“You boys ready to go?” She stops a few paces away from them, tucks her hands into her pockets while she waits, and Hurk turns around to look back at her.

“I think I’m gonna head back up to the marina,” Hurk says, “maybe see if I can’t find Mama’s helicopter. You’n’Sharky’ll be okay without me?” He looks nervous like he’s afraid she’s going to say no, so she makes sure she keeps smiling at him even though the idea of him flying a helicopter makes her super fucking nervous.

“We’ll be okay, Hurk. You do what you need to do.” It’s the same thing Earl said to her, and she sighs a little even as her smile stays.

His face lights up. “Okay! Call me when you come back around, and I’ll come help you, okay?” He’s grabbing her up in a bear hug before she has time to nod, and she can’t do anything but chuckle as he picks her up off her feet and sets her back down. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me.”

“You too,” she says, breathless, amused, and she waits quietly as Sharky gets a similarly enthusiastic goodbye.

“Have you seen Boomer this morning?”

Sharky answers by pointing; Boomer’s on his back in a patch of sun, a woman Mattie doesn’t recognize kneeling beside him to scratch at his belly. Boomer blinks his eyes open when his name is called, then rolls to his feet like he’s just remembered he’s late for work. He gives the woman a wet kiss, which makes her laugh, and then runs over and jumps up onto Mattie with his front paws.

“There’s my good boy,” she coos, and ignores Sharky’s vague noise of disgust when she accepts a slobbery Boomer-kiss of her own.

When Boomer calms down enough to sit by her feet, she puts her hands on her hips and looks up at Sharky. “Ready to fuck up John’s day?”

His face lights up. “Hell yeah, chica. Lead the way.”

#sharky boshaw #sharky x deputy #hurk drubman jr #far cry 5 #female deputy #oc: mattie covington #my writing

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Kiss From A Rose

The Hunters in the Closet

Summary: Y/n has been hunting alongside the infamous Winchesters for years now, but when an unexpected case pops up in her hometown, she finds herself struggling not only with her feelings for the eldest brother but with the things from her past that she has been fighting to forget.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 2.9K+

Warnings: Language, sexual tension, angst

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

“Okay, Sammy. We’ll meet you at the hotel later,” Dean breathed out a sigh as he hung up his phone and slid it back into his jeans pocket. His hunting partner had her back turned to the eldest Winchester, watching for anyone who might pass them by in the currently empty hallway. When she heard his goodbye, she rounded on the green-eyed hunter, her brows raised. 

“What did he say?” 

“Well, it’s definitely a witch. Sam found a hex bag in the bedroom,” Dean relayed the information the taller brother had called with.  

“And Alec?” 

“Sam says he seemed pretty sincere,” Dean frowned. “Says the dude’s eyes were redder than if he had been three joints deep.” 

“Makes sense. Besides, if it was him, you would think that he'd've gotten rid of the hex bag,” The huntress was fond of the idea of eliminating Alec from the suspect pool. She was having a hard time reconciling the image of the kid she grew up with and a witch that killed his own wife. With all this information and lack of motive, she felt more than comfortable crossing him off their list and knew the brothers would agree with her. 

“That’s true. I think--” Dean’s words were cut off as someone came out of the room in which the two hunters were standing in front of. The door whacked into Y/n’s back, nearly toppling her off her feet. The eldest Winchester held out his hands as she stumbled, ready to catch her if she fell, which thankfully, never happened. 

“Oh my god! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there I- Y/N?” The sound of her name had the huntress freezing on the spot, abandoning the glare that had settled in her features for something far nicer. 

“Yeah?” Her response was tight-lipped as she turned to face whoever it was that had just run her over. 

“It’s me, Roger Bates,” the man smiled, the grin on his face wide and unsettling. The woman’s brow furrowed as she took in the visage of the man in front of her, her mind unable to connect what it was seeing with the memory of Roger Bates from high school.

Though Y/n’s high school experience had been hell, it was tame in comparison to what Roger Bates had endured. He was strange, even for her standard now, and she hunted monsters for a living. Being a greasy long-haired loner who was more intrigued with academia, computers, and playing Zelda all weekend long. Not that his obsessions with girls that seemed to switch every other week helped with his image. At one point, he even had his sights set on the huntress, to which she had to let him down as gently as possible, seeing as she wasn’t sure if she agreed on a date that she would make it home at the end of the night. 

“Roger? Wow,” she let the word fall out in a breath, unable to form a better descriptor. The once pimply young man now had a hairline that receded further than those twice his age. The pseudo-mullet was ashy gray and Roger had it pulled back in a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. The man was hunched over a mop bucket, his shoulders heavy with an additional fifty pounds around his middle. 

“I haven’t seen you since graduation,” he noted.

“Oh yeah, well a lot has happened since then,” Y/n remarked, her classmate’s words reminding her of the demise of her family that had catapulted her into a life of hunting which was the last place she wanted to go at the moment. She took the opportunity to divert the conversation to something that had registered in her brain. “Hey, was that Damon I saw helping you earlier?”

“Technically I was helping him, Damon is the janitor here. I just offered to help for the reunion,” Roger pushed the slim bifocals on his face up the bridge of his nose, taking in the woman standing across from him. “Damn Y/n, the years have been good to you.” 

“Hello, by the way,” Dean stepped around where his partner was standing, putting his body now between the old classmates. He held out his hand to the other man with a smirk. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” the woman shook her head with a grin, having forgotten for a fraction of a moment that she and Roger still had company. “This is my husband, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dean’s voice was clipped as he shook Roger’s hand. The huntress watched as the two men seemed to stand up straighter as they released their gesture, bringing themselves up to their full heights. It was much in vain for Roger, seeing as even after he uncurved his spine, Dean still had several inches on him. 

“I never took you for the marrying type, Y/n,” Roger noted, not looking away from Dean. 

“No, I supposed in high school I wasn’t,” Y/n admitted. “But people change.”

“Not in my experience,” Roger deadpanned, finally breaking off his intense gaze with the eldest Winchester. Y/n didn’t have time to ponder his words before he continued with a cough. “Congratulations though. I suppose I’ll see you at the reunion then?”

Y/n nodded and Roger retreated down the darkening hallway, the squeak of the mop bucket he was pushing echoed off the walls until he disappeared around the corner. 

“What the hell was with that guy?” Dean’s nose was scrunched on his face as he turned back to his partner.

“He’s always been that way. Just… off,” Y/n attempted to stifle her giggle at Dean’s expression. 

Okay,” Dean nodded as his face relaxed into interest. “We can work with ‘off’. Off how?”

“Just off. I don’t know. Roger was your typical nerd who was obsessed with video games and school. The most suspicious thing about him was his obsessions with just about every girl in our class, but that was decades ago, I’m sure he’s over that.”

“Not according to him,” Dean quirked an eyebrow as he pulled out his phone that had just chimed. “Any bad blood between him and Sarah?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What about this Damon guy?” 

“He and Roger were best friends, I mean that tells you just about everything you need to know,” Y/n shrugged. “What I went through was heaven compared to those guys. They didn’t get much relief from anybody.”

“And?” Dean urged, sensing the huntress wasn’t telling him something. 

“It was two months before senior prom, and Damon mustered up the courage to ask Sarah to be his date one day at lunch. As predicted, she rejected him. Made a whole scene in front of the entire cafeteria. It wasn’t pretty,” Y/n explained the scene, the deep empathy she had for the man back on that afternoon day settling in her stomach as she recalled the events. Sarah had torn into the poor kid and the huntress wasn’t sure if anyone could have recovered from a traumatic event such as that. 

“You think he has an office?” 

“Um… office is a loose word.” The woman cocked her head, confused as to where her fellow hunter’s head had just gone. “The janitor had, like, a desk in the janitor’s closet.”

Dean pointed his chin down the hall towards the back of the school, and all she could do was nod in confirmation that he would find the cabinet in that region. The Winchester took off without another word, his long bow-legs carrying him quickly down the hallway. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Y/n slapped her palms against her thighs before taking off after him, having to jog to catch up with his pace. 

“To look for clues.”

“Clues?” Y/n huffed. “Who are you? Sherlock?” 

Dean had reached the other side of the school in no time, pausing outside the heavy metal door that held a gold nameplate affixed to the front with Damon Matthews etched into it. 

“No, but I am following a lead,” he smirked back at her before glancing at his surroundings and then entering through the doorway. 

“What? There’s no way he did this. Damon may have been nerdy but he was the sweetest kid,” she hissed as she followed Dean inside. 

The closet that doubled as an office was lined with shelving. Each one was filled with haphazardly tossed tools and cleaning supplies. A desk sat farthest away from them, papers littering the surface, the gray metal rusting in places. Y/n wrinkled her nose as the strong scent of cleaner mixed with the dank aroma of the room. 

Dean didn’t comment, choosing instead to begin rifling through the paperwork littered about the desk. After watching him work, the huntress let out an incredulous huff before joining him in his search for whatever it was he thought he would find. Even if Damon was their witch, the likelihood he kept his secret manifesto in the school janitor’s closet was slim to none. 

“Don’t huff at me,” Dean glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye. “After the story you just told me, he’s the best suspect we’ve got.” 

“But just so we are clear, you are saying my ‘local insight’ doesn’t matter?” Y/n made air quotes around the words he had thrown at her only a few hours prior. Dean frowned at his partner, his displeased dimples popping up in the corners of his lips. 

“You know that’s not--“ Dean trailed off as the sound of keys in a lock jingled from just outside the door. Both hunters whipped their heads towards the noise, dropping whatever it was they had in their hands. The eldest Winchester turned back to Y/n and whispered, “Trust me?” 

The huntress gave him a single curt nod and Dean cradled her jaw in his large hands, pulling her up to crash his lips to hers. She sucked in a gasp as her body froze upon contact. He walked her back until her body came in rough contact with one of the metal shelving units and his grasp fell to her waist. 

The second her mind caught up with his actions, her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her nails scratching through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Y/n could have sworn Dean growled at the contact before he curled into her and slid his hands down her thighs, urging her to jump into his grasp. Without thought or hesitation, she complied, wrapping her thick legs around his waist. 

Everything besides Dean fell into the background as he filled her nearly every sense, even the click of the door’s latch. The weight and heat of his body enveloped her and she could taste the hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing after breakfast. His two-day-old stubble tickled her chin where it came in contact with her skin and the familiar yet subtle scent of leather and gunpowder that always seemed to cling to him permeated her nostrils. 

“Oh shit,” the voice of their guest caused Dean to pull his kisses from her lips, much to her dismay. He didn’t relent his grip on her and instead just turned his head towards the man who stood dumbstruck at the entrance. 

Y/n took in the guy whose jaw was nearly at his feet. He hadn’t changed much since high school. It was how she had recognized him earlier when they were in the gym. Damon still had the round baby face he had at sixteen, only now, it was adorned with a patchy beard. He had grown maybe another handful of inches, but other than that, Father Time had gifted the man. 

“Do you mind?” Dean mumbled at the guy as he wiped the mixture of their saliva from his lower lip with his thumb. 

The huntress figured their situation looked just as awkward as it felt. As he had given her no warning, she could feel the heat of a blush underneath her skin, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly with labored breaths. The two hunters were full and well ‘caught in the act’ as she suspected was his ploy to begin with. Y/n had to give it to Dean, he was one hell of a quick thinker, even if his decision now had her reeling. 

Dean turned back to her, a sideways smirk and cocked eyebrow on his face that she didn’t have time to discern before he was kissing her again. A moan fell involuntarily from her lips as the Winchester dug the tips of his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs. He drank up the sound of it, sucking her tongue into his mouth and causing her core to clench around nothing. 

It was her first time experiencing the feel of the man’s lips against her own as she had dreamed numerous times before. The reality of it far surpassing anything her feeble mind could have ever imagined. Dean was nothing short of a pro at everything he was doing, so much so that the anxiety of the fact of the matter had been completely washed from her brain, allowing her to just get lost in the way he was curled into her and drinking her in as she was him. 

The muttered of apologies from her former classmate came before the latch clicked shut once again. Not that Dean seemed to notice, far too engrossed in his ploy to let up his assault on the huntress. Y/n peeped an eye open to see Damon was gone and reluctantly decided if she was going to come out of this moment with any portion of herself intact, she needed to unravel herself from Dean. 

“Shit,” Y/n pulled her lips from his, licking the last taste of him from her swollen lips. She attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but she was successfully slotted between him and the shelving. “Put me down before you hurt yourself.” 

“Are you okay?” he frowned at her words but complied with her request, gently lowering her feet back to the cement floor below them. 

“You can’t just pick me up like that.” A snort left her nose as she attempted to right the mess he had made.  “I’m too heavy, you’ll hurt yourself.” 

“It ain’t no sweat sweetheart. I’ve carried my moose of a brother I don’t even know how many times, your ass is nothing,” Dean drawled.

“Yeah, okay, I probably weigh more than your brother,” she grumbled under her breath, but Dean still managed to catch her words. She caught the drop in his expression and flew by the comment before he could properly respond. 

“Let’s just finish this stupid search before we get someone else comes in. I do not want to go through that again.” The huntress purposefully averted her gaze and headed back to the piles of paper she had left only moments ago. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Y/n wasn’t sure if her heart could handle getting to have Dean so close once more only to have to let him go. It was hard enough to watch him walk off with his conquests without having to know the intimate feel of his body pressed firmly against hers. 

“Man you really know how to kick a guy below the belt,” Dean bellyached. Y/n chanced a glance back to see his frown flip back into his signature cockeyed grin. She simply held out a stack of papers to him which he took and began to rifle through. 

Between the two of them, it took only a few more minutes before they had gone through everything. Most of it was work orders and receipts that dated back to before her graduation. As suspected, there was not one shred of evidence pointing to Damon as their witch. 

“Told you,” the huntress commented as she cracked open the door, peering out to check that the coast was clear for them to exit. When she was met with an empty hallway, she proceeded to pull the door fully open and walked into the low light coming through the windows. 

“Just because we didn’t find anything doesn’t rule him out. We should have Sammy check his house,” Dean noted as he followed her down the hallway. Abruptly, she stopped and spun on her heel, causing the hunter to nearly collide with her. 

“Did you or did you not insist that I come out here on this case because my intel on these people would give you guys an advantage on catching this witch?” she hissed at him, making sure to keep her voice low for any possible eavesdropper. Dean nodded, his expression unreadable as he waited for her to continue. “So when I tell you it’s not Damon, why won’t you believe me? Do you not trust me as a hunter?” 

“Of course I trust you. You are an amazing hunter, one of the best. I just didn’t think we should overlook all the possibilities,” Dean explained, his expression softening as he realized how his actions had been perceived by his partner. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I take point on this one from now on. Okay?” 

“Cross my heart,” he fluttered his hand in an ‘X’ across his chest, giving her an earnest smile. She pursed her lips before returning the grin and continuing out of the hell that housed her for four years of her life. 

Part 5

#dean x reader #dean x plus size!reader #dean x plus size reader #plus size!reader #plus size reader #dean winchester #dean fic #supernatural #spn fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

[blxssomwrites]

Title: The scars we hide Fandom: Gintama Rating: K Word count: 1767 words

My first jump into this fandom! I’ve recently started watching this series, and Gintoki quickly cemented himself as a top fav. I haven’t went that far in yet, but I really loved the relationship shared between him and Otose so I wanted to write something about them!

This piece is inspired by the headcanons from @gintamajustaway! I’m still learning how to write the characters, so I apologize if the characterization feels off. Regardless, I hope it’ll be an enjoyable read!

They say that with age comes wisdom, at least when it comes to knowing that things aren’t always as they appear.

Otose might be old, facing pain and aches befitting of an aged body but her mind is sharp and her eyes are even sharper. It’s a boon to have when she’s running the bar; knowing when to pour and when to pull back is what allows her to have returning customers. It’s not necessarily good for business if she lets them die of alcohol poisoning, after all.

But Otose thinks that she gets more practice in telling the subtleties of human emotions and behavior from the idiot living upstairs.

Sakata Gintoki is many things, though among those who knew him, the general view seems to split into two. A lazy, good for nothing perm haired manchild that attracts trouble the way a garbage truck attracts flies. A kind yet fierce self sacrificing samurai who’d do anything in his power to protect what’s precious to him.

Otose has come to learn that there’s more to what meets the eye. Gintoki hides what he truly feels behind layers upon layers of masks, especially if it hints at pains suffered from the life or death battles that he finds himself in far too often.

It’s impossible to survive the grievous wounds inflicted on his abused body without complications. Otose knows that there are days where his old scars act up, but for all the whining that Gintoki does on a daily basis, this is the one thing that he’d keep mum on.

She learns quickly that his body language provides more information than words ever will. Gintoki laughs obnoxiously to hide a wince. Slouches when he thinks no one is looking. Clenches his jaw when he frowns. His movements are less sharp, more practiced and controlled, like he’s trying not to tug on anything in fear of ripping the seams wide open.

Otose often leaves him be, for she knows that Gintoki is both stubborn and selfless, who wouldn’t take too well with being fussed over because he made them worry about him. Whenever he comes into her bar by himself, she doesn’t question when she spots bandages peeking out of his kimono, the faint exhausted lines on a too pale face. Instead, she quietly slides him an extra drink to his order, comments that he looks like shit and pretends not to see the vaguely appreciative look he gives her from the reflection of the glass she’s polishing.

But Otose cares more than she lets on, and has enough common sense to know when to step in. If his old scars affect him too much by her standards, she’s not going to let him suffer in silence any longer, nor any more than he should.

When Kagura and Shinpachi entered her bar that morning without Gintoki trailing behind them, Otose pretends to look disinterested when she gives them breakfast, commenting on the lack of their silver haired boss.

“Ah, Gin-san said that he feels tired today,” Shinpachi replies, eating his portion slowly as opposed to the girl that’s shoveling down her second bowl of rice beside him.

“Yeah! Gin-chan told us to mooch breakfast from you cause he doesn’t want to make it,” Kagura says in between bites, then shamelessly asks for more rice.

Otose’s eye twitches even as she scoops out another bowl full, while Shinpachi flashes her an apologetic smile for her tactless remark. That soon slides off into an almost thoughtful frown. “We have a job to do today, but I guess it’s just going to be the two of us.”

“Hmph! He’s leaving us to do all the work today while he sleeps like a lazy bum.” Kagura makes a face. “Shinpachi! We’re not going to give him any of the pay, okay!? If you do I’ll hit you!” And she does smack him over the head.

“Ow! You’re hitting me anyway!” comes the heated reply, and then it degenerates into a nonsensical argument that hides the underlying worry that these two harbor. Otose knows that they sense something amiss with Gintoki, sensitive as they are when his mood genuinely plummets, but they’re unsure on how to tread on the subject. She doesn’t blame them.

When the pair finishes their breakfast and heads out to work, she makes an offhand comment on collecting rent from the lazy bastard later. Otose turns her back as the tension melts off of the children’s shoulders, and plans for her visit upstairs.

Roughly half an hour later, she exits her shop with supplies in hand and slowly makes her way upstairs. Otose doesn’t bother knocking, merely slipping inside with a slight shink.

Her steps are light, and it’s telling on how awful Gintoki feels when he fails to acknowledge her presence upon opening the door. The curtains were still drawn, probably in consideration for this prideful idiot who didn’t want his kids to see him in this state.

The blanket is pulled up that she only sees tufts of his silver hair. Otose sits a considerable distance away, for prior experiences taught her that with Gintoki and his past, it’s best to be out of his reach until she has a good grasp of his mental state.

“Gintoki,” she calls out.

There’s a flinch from under the blanket before it’s pulled down enough for red rimmed eyes to peek through. Otose feels her heart clench slightly at the pain hidden in them, but keeps her composure.

“Old hag.” Those eyes narrow. “If you’re here for rent, I don’t have the money.”

She knows that it’s an act to keep up appearances. He knows why she’s here but still puts up a front, this selfless fool.

“One of these days I’m going to throw your sorry ass out into the streets,” she replies with a faint huff. A beat of silence, then she wears a softer look. “What hurts this time?”

Gintoki closes his eyes, unable to stand the concerned gaze. He hates it, the man had once told her after too many drinks loosened his tongue. He hates making people worry for him, cause he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. Otose chalks it up to a drunkard’s rambling, and treats him a little nicer the next day when he complains of a hangover.

Otose doesn’t push even as the quietude stretches on for minutes. It’s a battle of wills, sprinkled with a dash of futile hope that if he remains still long enough, she’d give up and leave. Gintoki is stubborn but Otose didn’t survive this long by being docile, either.

They’ve done this song and dance before, back when it’s just the two of them. It’s only a matter of time before--

“... my shoulder.” Otose hums in acknowledgement, giving him room to elaborate if he wants. “... been a fucking bother since last night.”

Another hum, then she shuffles closer. Gintoki cracks open an eye at the noise, wariness clashing with her quiet resolution before he sighs. Otose doesn’t help him when he tries to sit up, though her hand hovers close at the small of his back, just in case.

He carefully sheds his pajamas, biting back winces when the simple act aggravates his shoulder. Otose has seen this strong back several times, and it’s never a pleasant sight when she sees new scars mixing with the old.

Her gaze flickers to the cause of his misery. It’s unsurprising that his dominant arm would bear the heaviest burden. It makes sense for his enemies to incapacitate the wooden sword that inflicts damage as if it were steel. Slash his shoulder and that should stop his rampage, right?

Too bad for them that Sakata Gintoki often defies common sense in his single minded desire to protect what’s precious to him. But damage is still damage, and despite being called the shiroyasha, Gintoki is very much human. His body can never fully recover, only repairs itself enough to function.

Otose brings with her a small bowl of warm water and a clean kitchen towel. She dips it in, squeezes out the excess water before she gently dabs his shoulder. Gintoki hisses at the contact, but aside from the initial flinch, he remains tight lipped.

Once it’s sufficiently cleaned, she picks up the small bottle of ointment, and squeezes out the clear gel onto her fingertips. Then it’s carefully applied on the marred skin. Another hiss, an instinctive lean to get away until he rights himself back up again. Otose continues the treatment, her practiced hand being as gentle as it could be.

After a thorough coating, she tells him to stay put prior to her exit, barely catching the grumbled complaint. Her initial action was to pour him a glass of strawberry milk, but after a moment of consideration, she switches it with cool water. A bottle of painkillers was fished out from inside her left sleeve, and with the items in tow, she returns to his room.

Gintoki is now wearing his pajamas properly again, still sitting upright. His eyes flicker to the door upon her entrance.

“At least you know how to follow orders.”

“Shut up.”

Still, he accepts the pills and water with a tiny nod. Otose goes to sit back down by his futon when he gingerly wiggles his way under the blanket again. The treatment might take the edge off, but what he really needs is rest. A difficult task while he waits for the pills to kick in, she’s sure.

Otose may not be able to alleviate his pain, but she can help him relax enough to make it bearable. Thin, wrinkled fingers slowly finds purchase in his hair, and after gauging his reaction, they slowly dig into his curls.

Ever so slowly, the tension oozes out of him. A small, appreciative sigh slips through his lips with each pass that she makes through his soft locks. Otose merely continues the comforting ministrations until his eyes slip shut and his breathing evens out. Her fingers remain for a while longer while she takes in his peaceful expression.

Her own lips curled into a small, maternal smile. Gintoki is stubborn and reckless, lazy and boorish, loyal and kind, and the son that Otose sees him as.

Eventually, she does pull away. Otose picks up her stuff, shuts the door behind her and continues on with her day. Things will return to normal soon enough.

(She doesn’t question when Shinpachi and Kagura gifts her with some red bean buns that evening, nor acknowledges the soft thank you that Gintoki utters when he passes by her the next morning).

#Gintama #Sakata Gintoki #Otose #Hana writes stuff #it was fun writing this! even if my writing style is inconsistent ahhhh

[eerythingisshaka]

Pt. 2: The Wine Down

(M’Baku x Black!OC)

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 1

A/N:This is a continuation of my Day 24 Fictober prompt.  I recommend going back to that if you want to enjoy this fully!  This will be a short little series, probably five chapters or less.  Let’s just see how it goes!

When Gina trotted backstage, wiping her brow elated, her friend Chandra was beaming at her.

“Ok!  We got a full session tonight!  Good job!”  

They shared a high five as she primped her makeup.  “Yeah, and the funny thing is, it was a guy I knew actually.”

Chandra stared at Gina suspiciously.  “Uh-huh, is he gonna be a problem or…”

Gina waves her off.  “No!  At least I don’t think so, I just met him today anyway.”

Chandra scoffs.  “If this don’t sound like some stalker shit, then I don’t know what is!  You meet a guy and a few hours after that he is showing up at your job?”

Gina takes a sip of water, rolling her eyes.  “It’s not like that!  Listen, let me do my rounds out here really quick and I’ll tell you all about it, ok?”

Gina got herself ready to serve patrons out in the lobby drinks and snacks as they played pool and lounged before and after a show.  She could here the raucous crowd as she began to step from behind the curtains of the dressing room and it was a boisterous crowd indeed.  A bunch of well dressed and rowdy Black men scattered about the room with cigars talk to one another in pockets of conversation.  Before Gina could make her way to the bar area, she saw him.  

He was standing by a chair, bent over talking to a friend sitting down who seemed to have had more than he could handle.  Gina scurried back to the other side of the curtain, running into Chandra, heart threatening to pop right out of her chest.

“Damn, Gina!  What the hell is going on?”  She exclaims.

Gina fans her face as she sits down in agony.  “He is still here, right outside.”

Chandra trots to the curtain, peeking.  “Which one??  Looks like it’s a bachelor party!”

You describe his hulking build and appearance ad Chandra spots him.  “Oh ho ho.  Girl, he is beautiful.  Mm, filling.”

“Don’t be gross, Chandra, dang!”  Gina moans.

“What can I say?  That’s a meal that’ll stick to your bones, honey.  You got a good palate after all.  No way in hell you can go out there though, rules and shit.”

Gina nods.  “I know, and trust me I don’t want to.”

Chandra looks at Gina pitifully.  “If you wanna take off, you can.  I’ll let Dean and them know you weren’t feeling good or something.”

Gina gets up to hug Chandra gratefully.  Chandra was a grad student in the physical therapy field.  She wanted to help children who suffered from debilitating illness and traumatic events push through their disabilities to live normal lives.  So, in the end, they had a lot in common being two working girls hustling for an education.  Before Gina started at the club, she prayed she wouldn’t find herself in a Player’s Club type of situation, but thankfully things never were like that for her, especially with Chandra’s guidance.

“Thanks, Chan.  I owe you one for real.”  Gina changes herself into some regular clothes before making her way to the back exit, and out of the door.

A  couple days later, after hours upon hours of studying, Gina was ready to take her microbiology exam.  The lecture hall was fullest at this time naturally, but long as she had a seat, that test was going to go down with a TKO.  And she was sure of herself when she walked out, having completed it.  She put in enough time where the test almost felt like she wrote it herself.  The answers just flowed from her onto the bubbles on her scantron and she felt better than ever for its completion.  It was time to celebrate.

After a much needed nap, Gina woke up in the evening to head over to the store.  She had a How to Get Away with Murder marathon waiting, and all she needed was some drink to wash all those ridiculous Final Destination-like plot twists down.

Heading to the liquor section, Gina perused the categories of Vodka, Rum, Brandy, Beer, and all the wine varieties before settling on a semi-sweet red that was locally made.  The price wasn’t bad, so she got another one in a sweet white before heading around to the register.

Then came the collision.

Gina tensed up as she came into contact with a big figure, nearly dropping her bottle out of her basket.

“Oh!  Sorry, I didn’t s-”

The figure started to apologize and the voice was very recognizable to Gina as she looked up at him and saw his face, appearing to have seen a ghost with that kind of expression.

Silence fell between them as their eyes locked on one another, not saying anything but saying everything that was spinning around in their minds.  When his eyes fell out of focus, Gina shuffled her weight, preparing to leave.

“It’s nothing, thanks.”  Gina muttered as she walked around M’Baku.

“Wait!”  He calls out.  

Gina stops, cursing under her breath as she turns around.  “Yeah?”

M’Baku looked around nervously, walking up to Gina with a half smile.  “Do you not remember me?”

Gina could’ve fallen through the floor at that moment and it would’ve been a nicer situation than her current one.  “Listen, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m-”

“The produce aisle?  With the viruses and disease, right?”  M’Baku says slowly and expectantly.

Gina closed her eyes, exhaling sharply.  His politeness was barely making this easier as she kicked herself for her past brazenness.

“Riiiight….still, I’m kind of in a hurry, so…”

“Have to pop those wines bottles in an ice bucket, I get it.”  M’Baku chuckles.  “But I’m sorry if I am overstepping.  It’s not my intention to make you uncomfortable, we just had a nice conversation the other day.”

Gina stares him down.  “M’Baku, are you talking to me for THAT or for what you saw?”

M’Baku took a deep breath.  “I hoped you remembered my name.  It’s foreign to America’s standards, so that’s even better on you, Gina.”  

Gina scoffs.  “I’m glad you are impressed.  But so you know, something that does not impress me is a question not being answered.”  Gin turns on her heels to walk down the aisle.  

As she sets her items for self-checkout, M’Baku posts up at the checkout beside her.  “I didn’t want to be rude.  I figured I should not lead with...that as a part of us reintroducing ourselves, if we met again.”

Gina tries running the white wine across the bar code reader and it refuses to scan.  She sets it down frustratedly.  “Do you think I am ashamed of it?  That it is  secret life or something?”

M’Baku walks over to take the bottle of wine.  “Never said any of those things.”

“You didn’t have to, I can tell.”  Gina slides her card, grabbing the wine as the receipt prints.  M’Baku rings up the white wine without issue.  “I knew you were intelligent with your facts on foodborne illnesses, but I didn’t think you would be a fool when it comes to getting to know a person.”

Gina whipped around to M’Baku in shock.  “Is that what you think?  I’m foolish?  Then tell me, why exactly are you trying to talk to me if not for my club performance, huh?”  Gina crossed her arms waiting on bated breath for M’Baku to respond.

Calmly, he finished his transaction with the white wine, bagging it up.  “You are adorable when you find yourself to be right.  It was pleasing to watch when you discussed the fruits with me, discussed our backgrounds.  Made me feel I was christened by a Queen, even though your appearance was humble, I could tell that you held yourself in high regard.  I wanted so badly to know you more but the timing just wasn’t there, and I didn’t sense you would take my number, so I left it in Hanuman’s hands.”

“Hanuman?”  she asked.

“Oh, yes.  It is part of my religion, which I can go into depth more if you wanted to crack open this wine?”  M’Baku raised his eyebrows as he held to bottle out to her.

Gina pursed her mouth.  “I didn’t ask you to buy that for me.”

M’Baku groans.  “The amount of assumptions you make, I am surprised you are not a philosophy major!  Let me be nice to you, I have not brought up a single weird or out of place comment, and that will not happen if you would give me a chance.”

Gina took the bottle, looking at it as she mulled over the possibilities.  He was right, not once did he even bring up her stage performance, but that would come up eventually, no doubt.  He got the wine, but wasn’t expecting anything, though still she didn’t know him like that.  But she kept pepper spray and lived in an apartment with nosy neighbors and thin walls, so maybe this wouldn’t be a worst case scenario.  

“Ok, you have charmed me into submission!”  Gina says.

M’Baku kisses his teeth.  “I won’t go where I’m not wanted.  I don’t force myself where I m not allowed entry.  So please, enjoy your wine, I’ll be on my way.”  

As he walks off, Gina calls to him.  “What?  Wait!  I thought you wanted to come over!”

M’Baku continues to walk out of the automatic door.  Gina stands there frustrated a moment before taking off after him.

“M’Baku!  Hang on a second, will you!”  

He stops at his car to unlock the doors before turning to her.  “Yes, Ms. Gina?”

She huffs as she takes her phone out clumsily while balancing the bottles.  “Let me at least get your number so I can get back with you...”

M’Baku smirks as he takes the bottles from her, holding them easily under his meaty arms as he typed.  Giving the phone back, Gina looked it over before putting it away.

“I texted you, so…”  Gina mutters in a low voice.

M’Baku stands against his car holding the wine.  “You know, you are a good dancer, technically.  Good control.”

“Annnd there it is!”  Gina says laughing.

M’Baku shrugs.  “It does not influence my desire to know you, however.  I wondered what you may think of me, being a patron!  It was my first time at something like that, the groom and best man had covered us to be able to enjoy ourselves fully for the night, and needless to say I maxed out.”

Gina smiles, looking at her feet.  “I know, I saw the party afterwards.  I snuck out early so I wouldn’t run into you.”

“Yet here we are…but you probably have readings to do and the like, so...”  M’Baku says, studying her face intensely.  Gina got a vibe from him that pulled her closer, she wanted to know more about this foreign man who was taken with her.  Plus it warmed her for him to have  remembered her name, her studies, and not taking her shit.  She had already had her nap, so she was far from tired.

“I actually, just finished an exam, so I’m on a break!”

M’Baku smiles genuinely.  “I’m sure you did well.”

“I know I did, like taking candy from a baby.”  Gina clears her throat.  “So, if anything tonight could be a good night to...hang out?  I just wanted to chill, so if you're cool with boring, you can come by.”

M’Baku stands up from his car, hands folded in front of him as he stands right in front of Gina, looking down at her pleasantly.  “That sounds like a plan to me.”

Masterlist

#m'baku x oc #m'baku imagine #m'baku fanfic #black panther fanfic #shakafic

[gorillaz-imaginesss-blog]

The band with a plus size s/o

[[Hi!! Thanks for asking 💕]]2D-Stuart definitely doesn't mind.-The way he sees it there's more of you to love!!-He hates seeing you insecure at times, and will always remind you how beautiful you are.-He loves the curves of your body and likes to kiss them sometimes when you cuddle.-He also loves resting his head on your tummy.-Thinks you look great in everything and finds it extremely hot when you defy standards of today's dumb society, like wearing crop tops etc.-Will always kiss you and remind you he loves you the way you are.-If it's needed he will go out of his way to find cute clothes you like in your size. - "You like that one?" "Yeah but it's not in my size"He doesn't wanna hear that. He's gonna get that damn dress in your size and you're gonna rock it.Murdoc-Whooo this man definitely loves it-Way more to grab -Expect unexpected ass grabs at any time (especially in public where he wants people to know that this beautiful lady is his) -He gets really angry when anybody comments something rude or mean.-If it hurts you they will get their ass beat.-You might have to hold him back.-He loves when you wear his shirts to bed, he thinks your body is extremely sexy (especially in all those edgy clothes) -Always encourages you when you feel insecure, doesn't really care what he has to do to make you feel better. No baby of his is gonna feel in any way bad about anything. -Loves when you're confident.Noodle-Of course she thinks you're gorgeous!!-She gets really mad that the majority of modelling agencies/magazines have a criteria where you need to be really tall and ridiculously skinny. It's so unfair and unrealistic.-She prefers curvy women anyway, way nicer for cuddles.-She loves your fashion sense and how your body compliments almost everything you wear.-Will probably post endless things on Snapchat or Instagram about how beautiful you are or how you're slaying.-Completely goes off on anyone who says anything bad or creates stereotypes.Russel-You might be chubby but you'll always look tiny compared to this man!!-He loves the shape of you.-Loves holding his hands on your hips when you kiss.-Constant compliments throughout the day.-He loves carrying you, you're so cute and nice to snuggle into his chest.-His favourite part is your thighs.-He can never seem to get over how they can be so beautiful, cute and sexy at the same time.-He hates when anyone says anything rude, but people usually won't say anything around him. Way too intimidating.

[bellarke-addict]

Jumping Ahead

A/N- I had a week before this potential scenario is disproved, so I wrote this quickly. Also posted it on ff.net

New Ark- Day 1

"No!"

John grabbed her from behind, his hands covering her eyes and she immediately freezes, "What's wrong?" she demands, trying to listen for sounds of distress from the others.

"Keep your eyes closed." He orders, "I want to show you something."

"Hey," he continues, his body pressed against her back, pillowed by the hazmat suits they hadn't taken off yet, "Raven, blindfold Echo."

Raven snorts, "How about I not, and she just follows you two?"

John shrugs, "Fine, come on Echo."

A swish of material and Emori- who does not like being blind with an Azgeda warrior around- senses her standing beside them,

"What exactly are you going to do?" Echo asks, voice thick with disdain.

But Emori can feel John's excitement in the tiny tremble of his hands, "Trust me, you'll love it."

Once Emori promises to keep her eyes closed and no peeking, a promise extracted with as much force as a blood bond, John leads her and Echo down the cold hallway, with the harsh light that penetrated her eyelids.

She hadn't thought space would be so cold and the air so…it tasted like poison.

Echo's boots stomp on the floor, the same as them until suddenly she stops and gasps.

"Oh."

Emori frowns but John is covering her eyes again and shuffling her around, "Okay," he tells her, his voice smug with pride, "You can look."

The first thing she sees is a window and her reflection in the glass, she wonders what he was talking about before her brain finally tells her what she's missing.

Right in front of her.

And it's so big. Bigger than she could have imagined and with endless blues and greens, jagged pieces that somehow came together...

The Earth.

She rocks back on her heels and glances at Echo who has covered her mouth with her hand, staring down in wonder and she doesn't want to spoil this moment for her. She looks over her shoulder where John is grinning, "It's pretty when it's not trying to kill you."

She smirks and takes his hand, "Thank-you."

New Ark- Day 1835

John meandered around the corner, leaning against the wall and taking a moment to watch Emori.

She was already in her hazmat suit, her helmet tucked under her left arm, but after five years of being treated as one of them, she's not lurking anxiously by the rocket, terrified of being left behind, instead, she was sitting on the viewing platform, staring out into space.

Down at the Earth.

John hadn't realized how much he, Bellamy, Raven, Monty and Harper had taken the view for granted until Emori and Echo spent so much time there. Harper had managed to get one of the e-books working again and while they couldn't use it for much, she had downloaded a map so the two of them could figure out what parts of the Earth they had walked across and recognized.

They had all stood there once as a group, as the death wave rolled across the planet, and they hadn't been able to literally see it, but they had seen the aftermath.

It didn't look nearly as appealing as it had when they'd been kids, but they didn't exactly have much choice about returning.

Even if they could miraculously get another five years out of the machines keeping them alive, the ones pretty much being held together by Raven's stubbornness, there wasn't anything in the universe that stood a chance of keeping Bellamy from the ground for another day.

Clarke and Octavia were down there.

A few times, John had come to fetch Emori from the window and found Bellamy there, not seeing the planet before him so much as he was glaring at it, daring it to defy him and his need to be back with the women he loved.

He'd been badgering Raven to get the rocket ready for the last year.

"I'm going to miss this," Emori confesses, turning to look up at him, "It's a lot nicer when you're very far away and safe."

He smirks, "Yeah, that's my opinion, unfortunately, I've already booked our seats on the return trip, so…"

She sighs but when he approaches her right side, she holds out what she called her 'normal' hand and he helps her up, sliding his arms about her waist and kissing her on the lips.

"Don't worry," John whispered in her ear, "There's no way in hell Bellamy's going to let that rocket do anything but land safely…"

"Screw Bellamy," Emori bit back, "I want that rocket to be safe by Raven's standards, not those of an idiot in love."

John leans back, "If you were on the ground, I'd be making the same calls he is."

She raises her eyebrows, "If I were on the ground, you'd be right there with me."

He grins, "Yeah, and we might finally have some privacy."

The Ground- Day 1836

One thousand and eight hundred days after the death wave, Clarke had left the bunker, walked across the island, rowed the boat across the water to the beach where she had parked the rover.

She had driven it into what had once been Trishanakru territory, a place of steep hills that give her the best view of the surrounding region and then set up camp.

Sheer force of will had kept her upright long enough to get her tent up so she would have cover when she slept.

Except it was hard to sleep when every sudden sound had you anticipating the roar of a rocket returning to Earth.

Still, the death wave had knocked out the radio towers and despite her best efforts to teach herself how to rebuild and rewire them, she hadn't managed to restore communication with the Ark or Octavia's bunker.

That had been a week after the death wave.

She had lasted an entire year before she'd travelled to Polis and beaten her fists bloody against the bunker door, screaming to be let in, begging for someone to hear her, for someone to talk to her.

They hadn't even known she was there.

The clans had prioritized their Nightbloods, unaware that they could potentially survive radiation and taking them into Octavia's bunker.

The only good thing to come out of the situation was that Clarke could ransack the Mountain where one of the rovers had managed to survive the destruction.

Not intact, but she'd had four years to learn how to fix it.

And to learn enough about air and water tests to know it would be another one hundred and eighty-two days before the first batch of scientists began to emerge from Octavia's bunker.

But her friends on the New Ark?

If she remembered Raven's pessimistic comments as they'd loaded up the rocket, they would have been pressing their luck to get their machines a day past the five-year mark.

So, when Clarke had drawn a diagonal line through the three hundred and sixtieth group of four vertical lines she'd marked onto the bedroom wall of her bunker, she had known that she still had more days to wait.

But she might as well wait them out, outside.

She spends her days waiting on the ridge, one fixed radio sitting in her lap even though there were no radio towers to relay the signal. And an environment which was finally starting to recover in which to wile away the hours.

She knows that the five years of solitude hadn't been good for her, especially with so many of them in the bunker, but the very worst day of her life, in the six years that she and her people had been on this Earth, had been two hundred days after the death wave when she had taken the risk and climbed out to see with her own two eyes the destruction.

It had been beyond description, the Earth reduced to brown wasteland without clear distinction in the horizon of where the ruined land had ended and the sky began.

Even when the persevering planet had started to fight back, blue starting to bleed across the sky, green crawling inch by inch across the earth, Clarke had refused to leave the bunker, turning her face away from the monitors.

She had spent a lot of time sleeping after that.

But she was awake now.

Especially when she spots something bright in the sky, something that caught the light of the sun and was moving faster than the sound of the engines could reach her.

She grabs her binoculars and checks that she's not imagining things, that it really was the rocket returning.

She grabs the radio, pressing the button even though she knows it's an impossible chance,

"Bellamy," she shouts, "I can see you, I'm coming, I promise!"

She watches the rocket, trying to guess its trajectory and its landing site.

She guesses that Raven would want to have a controlled crash in a body of water. Not the ocean because none of them could swim and who knew what kind of creatures resided there.

Her leg is shaking up and down as she stares so hard her eyes protest, water and she nearly misses it when the rocket disappears into tree line.

She notes the position in relation to the sun, tries to note any landmarks and runs back to her rover, not bothering to pack up her tent or anything that she'd left lying around.

It was early morning when the rocket came down and it is late afternoon when her rover runs out of power, so she climbs out and begins walking, looking up through the trees to keep an eye on her position in relation to the sun until she finds a stream, which she follows, hoping it leads to a lake.

Hopefully one without giant slug-snake monsters.

A shift in the wind and she catches the barest hint of smoke.

She can't remember the last time she was glad to smell that.

She starts running, her legs and arms pumping as she moves faster than she ever has before.

She loses her footing in the damp earth, scrambles on her hands before pushing herself up again and breaks out of the forest to find herself on the shore of a lake.

The setting sun bleeds triumphantly across the sky, the burning yellow, vivid reds and oranges, fading away behind her into a tender violet. She shields her eyes against the brightness, turning her face to the waterfall that cascaded down into the lake, cool air rising from the aqua water.

She takes a breath and looks back, as one figure comes splashing to shore, spitting up water and shaking his arms and legs, trying to remove his hazmat suit, managing to pull off his helmet but she already knew who he was.

"Bellamy," she croaks his name, her voice lost in the sounds of the oncoming night, but somehow, he pivots and she can tell the exact moment he sees her.

His helmet drops from his hand, rolling a foot away but he doesn't notice. He is too far away for her to see the expression on his face but he holds up his arm, waving it above his head and she finds herself lunging forward, her feet barely touching the ground as she kicks up the pebbles of the shore in her wake.

She doesn't bother slowing down, or stopping until they collide, his arms snapping closed around her as he takes a half-step back to counter the force, keeping them both upright as she throws her arms around his shoulders, stretches up on her toes and presses her face into his neck.

He groans, the breath from his nostrils warm against her ear, stirring the strands of her hair as he holds her even tighter, he laughs softly, tilting his head so that his temple rests against hers.

To her, he smells of space, of the cold, recycled air, the malnutrition, mingled up in the sweat of a stressful landing, all of which hadn't yet been washed away by the water.

Her legs shake from having to hold her position and reluctantly, she begins to release him, the two of them pulling apart slowly until she steps back.

He hasn't changed.

He's pale and there are bags under his eyes, perhaps his jaw is more sharply defined but he still has that intense, all-seeing gaze that manages to still be soft and comforting as he runs his eyes over her, noticeably checking that she's okay.

"I…" she chokes and closes her mouth to swallow before trying again, "I…is everyone okay?"

If he realizes that she changed her statement into a question he doesn't say anything but turns to the rocket that was twenty feet away still buoyant in the lake, although slowly beginning to sink.

Monty was hovering in the doorway, one foot on the step, ready to drop into the water but with his head slightly bowed. When they look at him, he takes a breath and eases his way into the lake, paddling clumsily forward until he can touch the bottom and wade out.

"Hi," Clarke exhales, a grin stretching across her face as she pulls him, soaking suit and all into a hug,

"I've missed you all, so much."

Trikru Territory- Day 1 12:01am

He had forgot what clean air smelt like.

What it tasted like.

What it meant to have earth under your shoes and to touch a tree with your bare hand.

What it was to be cold because night was falling, and for the darkness to be settling in around you.

Still, he's glad when they reach the rover and he makes his way to the driver's side without even stopping to think. He might not have driven in five years, but Clarke clambers in beside him and almost immediately twists around to continue talking to the group.

She hadn't stopped peppering them with questions since Raven had made it to shore, the last in the group. Even though, after setting up the New Ark to keep seven people alive for five years, there hadn't been much to do except hate being back there.

But she wants to know everything and stops only to put a hand on Bellamy's arm and tell him which route to take to get back to the island.

He had hoped when they'd landed that the bunker would be open, even though he'd known that his people would err on the side of caution and run every test before emerging.

Still, he could radio his sister once he got back to the island.

Clarke leads them down the stairs, turning on the light and Raven's the first to notice the change.

"Wow," she comments, limping over to the wall, "Nice artwork."

Bellamy remembers there having been a book shelf there but it was gone now, baring a wall that had been covered in a mural.

He sees Lincoln, crouched before a fire, watching it as if it contained secrets he needed to know. Lexa with her sword drawn. He sees Jasper, his goggles pushed back and smiling, Wells with his head bent over a chessboard.

He sees Spacewalker holding a flower in his hand and Clarke eyes Raven nervously as she approaches,

"I had a lot of time to kill," she explains, glancing at Bellamy carefully, "It…they need to be memorialized somewhere outside of us."

Raven nods, "Maybe one day we'll carve their names into a wall, and tell stories about them around a campfire."

Perhaps when it no longer tore their hearts to speak of them.

Bellamy clears his throat and puts a hand on his hip,

"Where's the radio?" he asks and Clarke turns away,

"Monty," she calls and he and Harper emerge from the bedroom, "We'll need you and Raven to figure out how to use a radio without a radio tower."

Monty blinks and opens his mouth but Murphy interrupts, "If there's no radio tower, how have you been communicating with the other bunker?" he asks and Bellamy feels a sinking sensation in his stomach before Clarke can bring herself to answer.

"I…I haven't," she confesses, "But I went to Polis a year after the death wave and the bunker doors were still in place, so it survived intact and I'm sure everyone is okay."

Right now, no-one in the bunker- except maybe Echo- gives a damn about the other bunker.

Not when Clarke had just told them that she'd spent the last five years alone.

If Bellamy had known…

He's not sure how he would have got back to Earth, but he would have found his way back to her a lot sooner.

The bunker isn't made for eight people, but Murphy and Emori use the excuse of 'keeping watch' to sneak out, Harper takes the bed, Raven and Monty head to the science lab to get to work on the radios, and Echo finds a spot where a pool table had used to be to stretch out.

Bellamy figures that leaves him the couch, but after an hour of staring at the ceiling and remembering that he's spent the last five years doing the exact same thing, he gets up and goes looking for Clarke.

She's in the bathroom, but the door is open and when the floorboard creaks under his foot, she whispers for him to come in.

He still edges in slowly, but she's dressed in pyjamas and is sitting on the lowered toilet seat, a sketchbook in hand and her pencil brushing over the paper.

"Weird place to find inspiration." he jokes, easing in and closing the door until it's only partially ajar. She rests the sketchbook on her knee and shrugs,

"I know, it's just…I'm getting used to being around people again, you know?"

No.

He doesn't and would give anything in the world for her not to either.

He doesn't know what to say so he turns to the mirror, looking at his reflection for the first time in years.

Raven could finally stop shaving the boys.

She'd always been way too cocky when holding her switchblade to their throats.

He still had nightmares about the time Echo had insisted on subbing-in for her.

Clarke puts her things aside and stands behind him, looking over his shoulder,

"I tried sketching you," she tells him, her voice low and yet somehow filling the tiled space before reaching his ears,

"So many times, I nearly even started on the wall…one in the lab," she adds, hurriedly, "Not the one you saw."

Good. He's not dead yet.

She reaches up, stroking one of his curls behind his ear, her pinky finger brushing the shell,

"But every time I started, it just reminded me that you were millions of miles away and made me miss you even more."

He watches her in the mirror, the expression on her face as she speaks and he struggles to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"Thought you didn't feel that way, Princess," he murmurs, even as he leans infinitesimally into her touch,

"I told you before that rocked launched what I felt for you and you told me you didn't feel the same."

She laughs softly, and presses her lips to his shoulder blade, kissing it through his shirt,

"Of course, I said that Bellamy," she says, pushing herself onto her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder, her blue eyes meeting his in the mirror,

"If I had told you how I really feel about you, there is no way you would have got on that rocket and stayed on the Ark for five years, and I needed you there, I needed you safe."

He wants to argue with her, point out that it wasn't her decision to make, that they could have found a way for him to stay with her, for them to have not lost so much time together.

But arguing with her won't get those one thousand, eight hundred and thirty-six days back.

They'd known each other for six years and been separated for five of them.

He takes his hands off the sink and begins moving slowly, turning around and she doesn't move an inch, so she has to tilt her head back to look into his eyes when he's facing her.

He slowly raises his hand, cupping her cheek gently and she smiles, her eyelids fluttering as he brushes her skin with his thumb,

"Tell me how you feel about me, Clarke."

She hums as his thumb ghosts over her cheek again, "Like you're the other half of me," she says, her eyes never leaving his, "Every time you're not beside me, I feel like I'm missing something vital, like you're my strengths and weaknesses simultaneously, and that I couldn't survive on this Earth without you."

He wants to point out that past evidence has shown she definitely cannot survive on this Earth without him there, but she turns her face slightly, kissing the pad of his thumb and before he can even register his own movement, he's leaning down to kiss her. Gently at first, chastely, savoring that they're relatively safe and have all the time in the world. He wraps an arm around her waist to tug her closer and he can sense her wincing so he pulls back, "You okay?"

She smirks, "No," she puts her hands on his shoulders as she lowers herself back down,

"You're too tall."

He chuckles, taking his hand off her cheek and putting it on her waist before lifting her onto the sink, where she opens her knees for him to stand between them and slips her arms back around his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"My height isn't the problem, Princess," he breathes as he goes to kiss her again and she's just parted her lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside her when she makes a sound of protest and leans back, "Are you calling me short?"

He bites the inside of his lip to keep himself from laughing, "No…" he manages, not convincingly at all,

"I'm not short!" she protests, "You're tall."

With boots on, he'd be lucky to break 5.9, Jasper had been six ft, as was Roan, Kane and Jaha. Lincoln had been 6.1, which, considering Octavia was the same height as Clarke, had given Bellamy a sense of pride on the rare occasions the two of them fought and she would jab him in the chest, glaring up at him and obviously not the least bit cowed by the difference.

Clarke, according to the bracelet she'd worn when they'd landed, was barely 5.4.

"Okay," he says, surrendering the high ground and leans in to kiss her again but she pulls back, folding her arms across her chest,

"Think I've changed my mind," she drawls, "I don't feel anything for you after all."

He ducks his head, laughing under his breath, "Seriously?" he asks, resting his hands on her knees and she shrugs,

"Seriously." she echoes and he steps back, losing the fight against his smile,

"Okay," he says again, "You want me to get you a step ladder to get down or…"

She picks up the bar of soap behind her and raises it above her head threateningly and he steps back, colliding with the door, his back hitting the handle and laughing as it clicked shut. Clarke watched him with a smile and pushed herself off the sink, gathering her sketchbook and pencil as he opened the door for her.

"Hey," she says, holding out her hand and he takes it in his, linking their fingers together, "I love you."

He grins, "I love you too."

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction

[essiefreds]

This one is focused more on the second half of the ask. Hopefully I concluded it to @hotemotionalmess’s standards.

Word Count: 3926

"So... you and the Elf, huh?"

Kili looked up from his stone, and glanced across the walkway to your own cell. "What?" he asked, confused.

"You uh... you were making friends with her," you replied, brushing your fingers through your hair in a way you hoped was casual. "You like her?"

Kili shrugged. "She's nicer than the other ones we've run into," he stated, and then he returned his attention to his stone.

You sighed, and settled down on the floor of your cell.

A lot had happened in a span of a few hours. You'd gotten lost in Mirkwood, been attacked by spiders, been freed from said spiders by Bilbo, attacked by spiders again, and then saved from the same spiders by a group of Wood Elves, who had then promptly take you prisoner and led you to the Kingdom of Mirkwood, which was where you now were, locked up in cells.

Needless to say, it had been quite a day.

And, all the while, you'd been paying very close attention to Kili and his interactions with the pretty redheaded she-Elf who'd been apart of the group that had saved and captured the company. You had no idea what her name was, and you didn't particularly care.

At least, you hadn't cared until she'd shown up in the cells despite the celebration that the other Elves were having somewhere else within the kingdom, for the express purpose of talking to Kili. You'd listened, closely, while he regaled her with tales that he'd already told you. You didn't know why you were so interested in their conversation, but it was definitely hard to ignore them when they were literally across the way from you.

Now, however, the she-Elf was gone, and Kili was gazing down at his stone, which had been in the she-Elf's hands for a good amount of time during their conversation.

Something that burned like dying coals had settled deep in your belly, and you weren't ready to let the topic fall.

"Hey." Kili glanced up again. "Don't... y'know, let her get inside your head."

"Get inside my head?" Kili asked, frowning. "What are you even talking about?"

You opened your mouth to respond, and then realized that you didn't know what you'd been trying to say, so you closed it again.

Kili shook his head at you. "Keep your nose in your own business, Y/N." With that, he turned his back on you entirely.

Frustrated with him, and yourself, you turned your back to your the cell gate as well, and crossed your arms.

Since the mishap in the Misty Mountains, the two of you had been on shaky ground at best. You didn't know why Kili was angry with you; you'd only been trying to keep him safe when you'd gone after the goblin that had been about to attack him from behind, and ended up getting hurt yourself.

You remembered the interaction afterwards, when you'd actually had time to talk to him, after he'd yelled at you in the middle of the battle with the goblins and the escape from the Misty Mountains. It was after the Orc attack, and the eagles had come to save you, and deposited you on a safe cliff lower down the mountain.

"Kili," you began, following him as he walked away a few paces from the rest of the company to deal with a bleeding cut on his arm.

"Don't, Y/N," he grumbled without looking at you. "I don't want to hear it."

"Hear what?" you demanded. "Hear that I was only trying to help you? It's not my fault!"

"No, I know it's not," Kili muttered, wrapping the bit of cloth he'd torn from his shirt around the cut. "It's mine."

You frowned at him. "Yours? No, Kili, it wasn't anyone's fault! That goblin just turned around to attack me once I hit him."

"I should've been paying more attention," Kili mumbled, almost to himself.

You didn't know what else to say to him. "It's not... no, it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine, either." You kicked a stray rock, and it went rolling down the hill. "I only wanted to help."

"Yeah, well, don't," Kili grumbled, a bit louder this time. He shook out his arm and shrugged past you, back to the company.

With a sigh, you buried your head in your arms, wanting to take back your decision to join the company, take back all the decisions you'd made over the course of the journey. At first, you'd thought, things were going great, but that thought was long gone.

"I want to go home," you whispered to no one.

"Y/N!"

You glanced up, shrieked, and ducked back down. An Elf flew over your head into the river, and you peered over the edge of your barrel again, exhaling.

Bilbo, who'd gone missing as soon as the Elves had shown up to kill off the spiders, had reappeared some time ago, with a brilliant plan to escape the kingdom of Mirkwood. Unfortunately, the idea of riding in barrels down a raging river hadn't been paired with the idea of Elves appearing and chasing the barrels as they moved down the raging river.

Nor had it been paired with the idea of there being a floodgate further down the river, that most of the barrels the Dwarves were riding in were now bumping against.

You peered over the edge of your own barrel and looked around. The Dwarves were either yelling at the floodgate to open, or yelling at the Elves that were lining up on both sides of the river to capture them. Bilbo was clinging to the edge of an empty barrel, trying to scramble into it.

You looked around, desperately trying to find something that you could do to help, but before you could move, the Elf standing at the top of the floodgate suddenly toppled over the edge of it into the water.

"Orcs!" someone shouted just as a flood of them start to push through the forest on either side of the river, weapons out in full force. They first went after the Elves that were still running to catch up to where the barrels had been stopped, and then they turned their attention to the defenseless Dwarves and two Hobbits.

"Uh oh," you whimpered, noticing one look you square in the eye, and raise a bow.

Before it fired, however, it changed its mind, and let its arrow fly into a different target.

You turned around, and your eyes went wide when you saw Kili, who'd managed to climb to the top of the floodgate without drawing your attention, fall to one knee, the arrow embedded into his calf.

"Kili!" Fili exclaimed from his barrel, where he'd been busy fending off an Orc with a sword he'd found somewhere.

Kili looked down at the arrow in his calf for a moment, his face screwed up in pain. He then reached up and attempted to pull the lever that would open the floodgate, but failed miserably. Instead, he fell flat on his back, and you gripped the edge of your barrel tightly with your nails.

"Y/N, do not," someone warned from behind you, and you turned to find Fili glaring at you. "I know what you're thinking; stay in your barrel."

Before you could retort that Kili needed help, there was an angry cry from above you, and you watched as an Orc jump out of the bushes, sword brandished to kill a prone Kili.

Instead, an arrow flew into its head, and it collapsed, dropping its sword neatly into your barrel. Before picking it up, you looked around to see who had killed the Orc, and frowned when you spotted the same she-Elf from before further down the river, busy fending off another Orc.

You grabbed for the sword and threw it to someone who'd put it to good use, before looking upwards at Kili.

"C'mon, Kee," you whispered.

As though he'd heard you, Kili let out a groan and sat up, reaching for the lever again. He managed to pull it down this time, and then he collapsed once more in exhaustion.

"Kili!" you and Fili exclaimed at the same time as the barrels started to move forward through the now open floodgate.

Kili grunted, pulled himself over the edge of the gate, and flopped roughly down into the closest barrel, which happened to be your own. He inhaled sharply, and you winced when you glanced down and saw the wound on his leg.

"We'll need to take care of that," you commented in your best 'not-that-concerned' tone of voice.

Thankfully, Kili let out a hoarse laugh. "Probably a good idea," he agreed, and then he looked at something from over your head. "Duck."

You did so, without question, and Kili caught a sword that was thrown to him and cut down an Orc that was sailing in the direction of your barrel.

"Good one," you told him, straightening up.

"Thanks."

It was poisoned. That much was obvious. The skin around the wound was turning black, and tendrils of black were working their way up and down Kili's leg. If you'd known more about such things, you would've been able to say it was poisoned, but because you didn't, the only thing you could say to Fili when he asked was that it was infected.

"He needs... something," you said, looking at Oin for help. Without his earhorn, he hadn't been as much help as he usually was, but he'd done his own diagnostic on Kili's arrow wound, and from the look on you face, as well as Fili's, he was able to nod in confirmation of your statement.

"We don't know what, though," you went on to the blond prince, who glanced down at his brother, who was lying on the table in the bargeman's kitchen.

When Thorin had told Kili he couldn't cross the lake to get to the Lonely Mountain on the other side, there had been plenty of shock and frustrations exchanged between the uncle and his two nephews. Obviously, Kili didn't think it was fair, and Fili wasn't about to go without his younger brother. Oin had elected to stay behind with the wounded, as was his job, and you...

Well.

You couldn't leave them alone. There wasn't an ounce of sense in any of their heads, even put together.

By the time you'd encountered Bofur, running to catch the boat but just missing it, Kili had turned a sickly white color, and the dark circles under his eyes were standing out rather prominently. It was you who'd suggested you all go back to Bard's home, even though there was little hope of him helping you after the way he'd been treated by most of the party. Still, Kili was sick. He needed help.

So, you'd gone to him, and at first he'd been ready to turn your little branch of the company away, but then he'd seen Kili, and he'd opened the door a bit wider.

Now, Kili was lying on the kitchen table, a basket of nuts beneath his head, and the company members that had remained behind were surrounding it, with Bard and his children standing off to the side.

"Is he going to die?" you heard the smaller girl whisper to her father, and you turned away from them before you could hear Bard's response.

"What are we supposed to do to help him?" Fili asked, probably a bit more hotly than he intended. No one was blaming him, however. Kili was in obvious pain, and Fili was, too.

"I don't know," you replied quietly. "I wish I did."

"I just need something to bring down his fever," Oin muttered angrily. He turned to look at Bard. "Do you have any Kingsfoil?"

Bard looked perplexed. "No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs."

Bofur let out a noise of understanding from where he stood near the window, and he jumped up. "I have it!" he declared, and then he pointed to the distressed Kili, who was writhing a bit as another pain struck him. "Don't move!"

"Bofur!" you exclaimed, but he was already racing out of the house. You started to go after him, and then the house shook.

At the same time, there was a boom from the direction of the mountain. Everyone looked up, but you all knew right away what it was.

The dragon was stirring.

"It's coming from the mountain," Bain announced after hurrying to the window.

Fili left Kili's side for the first time since you'd returned to the house, and approached Bard.

"You should leave," he said. "Take your children and go."

"Go where?" Bard asked, looking down at him. "There is no where to go."

Fili gazed at him for a moment longer, and then he turned and walked back towards the table.

You saw the little girl grab her father's arm, again.

"Are we going to die, Da?" she asked softly.

Bard offered her a small smile, but there was no heart in it. "No, darling."

"The dragon, it's going to kill us," she said, gazing up at him in fear.

Bard stared at her, and then at his two elder children, before he glanced upwards and yanked down the drying rack that was hanging from one of the ceiling boards. He gazed down at it for a moment, and then he looked at his children again.

"Not if I kill it first," he said, softly, and then his shoulders set in determination. "Bain, I need you to come with me. Girls, please, stay here."

With that, the bargeman swept out of the house with his son running after him.

"What does he aim to do, get himself killed?" Oin exclaimed, running to the window.

"I think he's going to kill the dragon," you murmured. Before you could let yourself think about it too hard, however, Kili moaned weakly, and you turned your gaze down to him.

"Y/N..." His voice was low, tired, but still filled with enough pain that you could hear it, and you looked at Oin.

"Is there really nothing we can do, until Bofur gets back?" you asked the elder Dwarf, and he blinked at you for a moment before he glanced down at the floor, where the plants that had been hanging from whatever Bard had pulled down had fallen. He shuffled over to them and bent down, sifting through them for something useful.

You moved to help, but Kili touched your hand, and you paused, glancing back down at him.

"Don't leave," he whispered.

You let out a breath, and glanced across him towards where Fili stood, his fists clenched at his sides. Looking back down at Kili, you smiled as sweetly as you were able and brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

"We're not going anywhere," you promised.

A door opened somewhere, and you looked up, hoping it was Bofur, but it was only Bain, returning without Bard.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something," Kili said.

You glanced down at him, and gave him a more real grin this time. "Don't you think it can wait until you feel better?"

"No, I n-need to tell you, in c-case I don't," Kili insisted, pressing down on your hand with as much urgency as he could. "Please, j-just listen."

You looked at Fili again, and he nodded once, backing away to help Oin sift through the herbs.

You turned your attention back to Kili. "I'm listening," you murmured.

Kili took in shuddering breath, and it must have hurt, because his eyes closed in pain. You waited for him, turning your hand over so that you could take the one he'd rested on top of it.

After a moment, Kili opened his eyes again, and looked at you. "I-I'm sorry I was mean to you, af-after the goblins. You didn't deserve it."

"Kili," you began, fully prepared to remind him that you'd already discussed this, but he shook his head as best as he was able.

"Let me talk."

You closed your mouth, and nodded.

"I was m-mad at myself, first for not protecting you, and th-hen for not teaching you how to protect yourself af-afterwards." He paused and squeezed his eyes shut, his grip tightening on your hand. He didn't groan or complain, but you could feel it all in his hold on your hand.

When the worst of it had passed, he opened his eyes again, and you saw that they were even more bleary than they had been.

"Kili, maybe you should stop," you advised.

"N-no, I have to get this out," he decided, leaving spaces between words because of his panting. He licked his lips, which were very dry, and started up again, "I on-only pushed you away, and I'm sorry."

You gazed down at him, wanting to cry and not wanting to at the same time.

A single tear escaped when you blinked, and you passed your free hand through his sweaty hair.

"Kee, you have nothing to apologize for," you told him, softly, and he let out a hoarse laugh.

"Sure, you say that now, wh-hen I'm dying," he said, and then his eyes moved past your face and seemed to take on a look of... emptiness.

And, just like that, the grip on your hand went slack.

"Oh, no," you said, squeezing hard enough for the both of you. "Don't... don't do this, Kili. Bofur is going to be back soon, with the Kingsfoil. And you'll be all right, I promise."

Kili didn't react, and you searched his face desperately. "Kili? Kili! Kili, please!"

Before you could turn around and scream yourself, Bard's eldest daughter screamed instead, and came backing into the house from the balcony.

You turned, and gasped when you saw an Orc entering the house through one door, and, from the commotion in the other room, it seemed that an Orc had just entered through another.

"No," you managed, and then you looked around for a weapon, but came up with nothing. The Orc stalked towards you, his own sword glinting dangerously in the candlelight, and you leaned back against the table, ready to defend Kili as best as you could.

Before you needed to worry about it, Fili jumped between you and the Orc, weirdo one of the 'weapons' that Bard had brought to the Dwarves the evening before.

The Orc growled, and lunged.

Fili fended him off with the staff of the weapon he was holding, and then he grunted and swung it, heavy end first. It sailed through the air and slammed into the Orc's head, knocking him out cold.

Fili dropped the weapon, breathing heavily, and looked at you.

"Kili," you started, turning back to the Dwarf, and Fili hurried around to the other side of the table.

"We need to get out of the house!" he exclaimed as Oin rushed into the room.

"Help me, then!" you shouted right back, and then you started to sling one of Kili's arms around your neck.

Orcs were coming from all entrances of the house now, and you spotted one coming towards you.

"Fili!"

Fili looked up, but before he could move away from helping Kili sit up, another blade sliced through the Orc's neck, and it collapsed to the ground. When you looked up from it, you found yourself looking at the she-Elf that had been the bane of your existence for a good day or so.

Another Elf, the blond one that had been the leader of the group to capture the company, was busy killing other Orcs that had entered the house.

"How -"

The she-Elf turned away before you could complete your question, to help her companion, and you turned back to Kili, who had started moving again once Fili had shaken him hard enough. He was groaning, eyes darting around as though he had no idea of where he was.

"Kili," you said, placing a hand against his cheek. He was even hotter than he had been before, if that was possible. You forced yourself to face it, and glanced up as the sounds of fighting faded away.

"You killed them all," you heard Bain say.

"There are others," the blond Elf responded.

Oin hurried over again, and opened one of Kili's eyes. "We're losing him," he said, glancing up and between you and Fili.

"Tauriel."

You looked over at the two Elves, and watched as the blond one exited the house, after the Orcs, no doubt. The she-Elf, Tauriel, glanced between the open door and the table where Kili lay, and then she turned, obviously about to go after her companion.

"Wait!" you exclaimed, and she stopped, glancing over her shoulder towards you.

Kili moaned, and your eyes flooded with tears. "Can you help him?"

She gazed at you, her eyes wide, but before she could speak, there was huffing from outside the door, and Bofur raced up, holding a green herb in his hands.

Tauriel turned to him, and gasped, taking it into her hands.

"Athelas," she murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, and then she turned towards the table again. "Athelas..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking.

She glanced up at you, and something changed on her face.

"What are you doing?" Bofur asked from behind her.

Tauriel looked back down at the weed she was holding, and smiled. "I'm going to save him."

She began giving instructions to Bard's daughters, who rushed about to fulfill them. Tilda hurried to her with a basin of water, and Tauriel dunked the Kingsfoil into it, tearing it apart and washing it all at once.

Kili was becoming more distressed with each passing second, and you moved closer to his head, murmuring to him.

"Easy, Kee, easy," you urged softly, stroking his hair.

"Hold him down!" Tauriel commanded, coming over with the bowl of water. She set it down on the table near Kili's legs and pulled out a clump of wet Kingsfoil. Fili and Oin and Bofur all took hold of his kind and struggled to keep him pressed to the table, even when Tauriel pushed the Kingsfoil against his wound and began to chant in elvish.

Kili screamed, and it was the worst sound you'd ever heard in your life. All the same, you continued to murmur to him, your hand never leaving his hair as he thrashed about, screaming in pain.

The rest of the world faded, and it was just you, and Kili, and a faint echoing of whatever it was that Tauriel was saying. Slowly, Kili began to calm down. His noises became less agonized, less all together. They eventually faded away to nothing, and Kili laid there before you, his eyes glassy, but fixed on you.

"That's it," you said, smiling weakly. "See? It's getting better."

Kili swallowed, and you felt something brush against the hand that wasn't in his hair. You looked down, and saw it was his, trying to take yours. You slid it closer, and his fingers slid through yours, and, although his grip was weak, it was there, and that was enough for you.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss against his forehead, which was still slick with sweat, but at this point, you could care less. "I love you," you whispered to him.

Kili responded by squeezing your hand, and you decided to take that as a form of agreement until he was strong enough to speak on the subject.

#drabble #the hobbit drabble #kili drabble #request #the hobbit #the company of thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #oin #bofur #bard #bain #tilda #sigrid #@hotemotionalmess #history has its eyes on queue

[insert-witty-comment]

Joyce don’t speed in a school zoneThat whole tentacle rape thing is still super freakyLooks like a seizure on this sideI wonder what the thing is trying to do to him :/Joyce is great, it’s nice to have an adult character who actually understands in a show like this where they would usually try to keep the kids as the ones doing everything and keeping them a secret from the adults, especially the parentsHop this isn’t a fight you can win. You should stop now.She’s not your kid hop. You treat her like this and she will fuck you up.Told you.See, Joyce does it right.Will seems rather… possessed. Those crazy eyes when he’s asleep. Hope he’s ok.Nancy you’re going to get in a lot of trouble. You’re going to get your family in trouble. Stay in school kids.A doctor couldn’t help Will with this I think.Dustin I don’t think this diet is very healthy.Why am I worried about the abomination being healthy now??Does it not like water? Or not like heat?Ok, yes, possessed. Definitely possessed. Definitely doesn’t like heat. Great.Hop no, you were so close there. You need to apologize. You’re still trying to boss her around and I don’t think you can do that.Why isn’t Steve’s team ever skins?Are we gonna get a naked fight? No? Unfortunate.Oh, now you two get paranoid. After setting up the meeting to reveal a government conspiracy. Bit too late folks.Joyce don’t give the demon what it wants. Pick that kid up and dump him in the tub yourself.Hop seems to be taking this seriously at least.And will somebody get that boy a shirtNot fair to max to leave her out, but totally necessary. She’s not ready for this kind of thing yet. Feel like it’s inevitable that she gets caught up in it though.Actually lots of things can affect the material plane from another plane, especially the ethereal and Shadow. So… makes sense to me that it could do this, especially with Will’s talk about being stuck halfway between.Does that shack have heating?OOoh, Secret Tunnel!Oh Hop is gonna be in so much trouble.This guy is at least a lot nicer than the old management. Runs a much more pleasant crew. Not that I think he’s any less evil. He’s like, super evil. Being nicer on the outside just makes him more dangerous.I wonder what all those floaty specks are in the upside down atmosphere. Are those what make it toxic to breathe there?Will has gone all psychic too. Automatic Drawing, classic medium technique. They should try some other standard psychic tools and see what he comes out with, have him write random words or something.Oh gee I wonder why Max is upset.Should have taken your jacket off before dumpster diving Lukas.Certain type of people you stay away from, billy? I wonder what kind of person you meant by that. Yeah, I wonder if there’s anyone in Max’s life she should stay away from.I hope Dart eats him first.I never thought to wonder how well El can read, given her speech problems. Didn’t seem like she had much chance to learn reading in her previous life. From here I'm guessing not too well, she seems to do the same thing she does when she talks where she just gets across the key words.Oh shit, this is bad. El was already unstable. Hop’s really in for it now.Joyce don’t try to keep Mike out, you know he knows about these things.Oh my god Nancy, what the hell are you doing. You're going to turn this town into a media circus.Dustin’s room is my favorite of the Boy’s rooms.Oh ew, don’t touch that. He shed his skin, How big is he now I wonder?He ate the cat didn’t he, that’s awful.Of course, it’s a baby fucking Demogorgon. Great.Damn hop, you don’t give up easy do you? How long have you been digging?Don’t go down there!Not sure if telling the Lab people about this would be a good idea or not. They can get rid of it the best, but honestly the less those people know the happier I am.Well shit, that was intense.Eleven and Hopper having drama is pretty inevitable given both of their issues, though I do find myself sympathizing a lot more with her than with him. Especially with Hopper in contrast to Joyce, who is dealing with a similarly fragile and supernaturally afflicted child in a much more healthy and effective way.I didn't realize until writing that how much I need El and Will to meet. They never got to last season and I feel like they would be really good for each other.Billy keeps being more and more of an asshole, except where it kinda seemed like he was hitting on Steve, but he was an asshole while he was doing that, just not to Steve.Major things moving forward: Nancy and Jonathan's shenanigans are about the get Hawkins deploying in full force. I'm guessing that's going to interfere with them dealing with the massive root problem Hopper has found. El won't help Hop either, so he and all the local farmers are pretty much screwed.The new Dart is going to kill someone. I hope it's billy but it probably won't be.I actually do like Max a lot, and I'm hoping she finally learns the truth next episode so she can be more involved.This is one of my favorite episodes so far, feels like things are starting to move really fast and a lot of conflicts are coming out in the open. via /r/StrangerThings

#stranger things