#he is stronger & taller than me and i most definitely will lose but that doesn't matter

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero chapter 4

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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Your horror and fear after what happened at the town hall are mixed with hope. Unfortunately, the newly met man in the mask doesn't make things any easier for you. He is stubborn and distrustful. However, when night comes, he takes you to his only safe place. To his house. Home.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, weapon, suicide

author's note: I decided to post a new chapter today, unfortunately I'm having a worse time in my life again…. I hope it will get better soon. The longest chapter so far, let me know what you think.

Warning!! Mention of a suicide attempt, if you don't want to or can't read this, skip the parts where day 64 is referred to. Your mental health is more important! Take care of yourself, dear reader.

AO3

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Chapter 4: The one where you visit Ghost's house

Day 732

Getting to the tower by car definitely shouldn't take as long as your hike. The distance to cover, from the center to the suburbs, did not seem so far. You both remain silent the entire way. Ghost keeps looking in the rearview mirror while driving. As if he had to make sure you were still sitting on the trunk. When it reduces speed or (worse) brakes to almost zero on the odometer. His gaze focuses on the mirror. As if the man expected you to take advantage of the opportunity and jump out of the car, taking Riley with you. You will run away and disappear, just as you suddenly and unexpectedly appeared.

Admittedly, you had no intention of doing so. Quite the opposite. You wanted to stay. Even though the man was hostile towards you, you were sure of that. Damn, he wanted to shoot you!

Like a hunter hunting a defenseless deer. A sniper in war, shooting at a designated, nameless target. Without blinking an eye, in cold blood, in one breath. Shot. Exhale. End.

Without even exchanging a word with you. Without asking you anything. Not wanting to know anything. One shot and you're done, you wouldn't even feel it. He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Remembering what happened a dozen or so minutes ago, you clench your hands into fists. Rubbing the material of your gloves against each other. Feeling the rough material slide over the skin of your hand. You try to focus exactly on that feeling.. You don't want to let fear and terror get the best of you. Breathe, slowly. Don't let these bad thoughts defeat you. Luckily for you, the man didn't do anything to you. Maybe he is also a lost and lonely man. Who is slowly losing his mind under these circumstances. He can't cope. Just like you.

You swallow. The hands are still tightly clenched into fists. Your hands are sweaty from stress.

The sun slowly hides behind the buildings, getting darker with each passing minute. The night is getting closer. The car is traveling at a higher speed. There are fewer and fewer buildings, they are probably suburbs, so you are getting closer to your goal - the tower.

You have to be strong, not show weakness. Focus. To listen carefully. Observe.

Although it's all Ghost, he has the upper hand. He has the most important argument and strength - he has a gun. Also, he's in his own territory and is undoubtedly a man with military training. He's taller and better built than you. Definitely stronger and athletic. Yet you try to control another panic attack, you won't give in to him so easily. You may not be in a lost position. You just have to convince him somehow. After all, somehow he has to believe that you came here alone. If you gain his trust without lying to him, maybe he'll let you stay. You don't really have anywhere to go back to. That house somewhere far away wasn't fit to live in for another winter. No heating, a leaking roof, you could list more defects. And the food supply in the area was running out, you found almost everything edible. You didn't know if it would be safe to return to that place.

You swallow. Your hands are still clenched into fists. Sweaty from stress.

The sun slowly hides behind the buildings, getting darker by the minute. The night is getting closer. The car is traveling at an increasing speed. There are fewer and fewer buildings, probably suburbs, so you are getting closer to your goal - the tower.

You have to be strong, not show weakness. Focus. To listen carefully. Observe.

Without a doubt, the whole Ghost guy, has an advantage over you. He has the most important argument and power - he has a gun. Besides, he is in his own territory and is undoubtedly a man with military training. Higher and much better built than you. Stronger. Athletic. But, if you are trying to control another panic attack, you won't give in to him so easily. You may not be in a lost position. You just have to convince him somehow. After all, he has to believe in some way that you came here alone. If you gain his trust without lying to him, maybe he will let you stay. You don't really have anywhere to go back to. That house somewhere far away, is uninhabitable for another winter. There's no heating, the roof is leaking. And food supplies were running out in the area, you could find almost anything edible. You don't know if it would be safe to go back there.

This town you are in now is the only one of the larger ones in this area. He seems to be better organized, definitely better than you. You haven't even found a car in working order with at least a little bit of fuel in the tank. So maybe it's better to stay with him. It will be easier to survive. Maybe the two of you can find other people?

Maybe the man knows something more, maybe he knows about a settlement, a safe place? Some larger group of living people? Maybe there is some hope.

Meeting this man caused a small spark that some future might exist.

Although it is probably not difficult, you have never been able to plan or predict. You lived in the moment. Not worrying too much about what the next day will bring. Not really taking into account.

The consequences of your actions or, inversely, your inaction. It's time to grow up, the worried voices of your parents echo in your head. Well, maybe you should have listened to them.

You sigh and look away from the passing suburban landscape, still lost in your own thoughts. You look down for a moment, at your protruding belly and wide thighs. You haven't even lost much weight in the last two years. You blame it on your bad, inappropriate diet. You mainly ate carbohydrates and cans of ready-made or sweetened food. You found any canned vegetables less and less often. Lots of cans of carbonated drinks and lots of sweets. Not to mention salty snacks. It was easier that way. Everything had long expiration dates and was tightly packed. Thanks to this food, you satisfy your hunger and provide your body with endorphins. Fighting with your own bad, dark thoughts, when you had supplies of food and drink. You simply lay in bed on the mattress for weeks. Vegetating, waiting. Counting on... you didn't know what.

You look back at the passing landscape, individual buildings and road signs. City exit sign, highway exit, empty fields.

You regret that in the past you were never interested in the army. You didn't even know what military unit this man was from. The only thing that was clear to you was the British flag attached to his uniform. Maybe it meant something? Perhaps he was here for a reason?

Even now, when the cold of the coming evening and the breeze caused by the speed of the car caress your cheeks and exposed neck. This causes goosebumps and reddened cheeks. It was bearable, the feeling of cold wasn't really that bad.

The most significant thing is that you no longer have to walk.

The important thing is that after so many days you at last found hope.

The fact that you are finally not alone.

You choose not to think about it any longer, clinging to Riley, thanking him without words for saving him. You calm down a little.

When you finally arrive at your destination, the man hurriedly gets out of the car and opens the trunk with a gun in one hand.

“Riley stays with me”

If you don't mind the penetrating chill of the coming evening, the coldness in the man's voice definitely makes you shiver.

‘And you, woman, go into the building and tell your people to leave. I have you in my sights all the time.’

You don't have the strength to argue with him. Another exchange of words makes no sense at this point. You dream of eating something and finally taking off those damn shoes. Your legs hurt so terribly. Subconsciously, you already know that a verbal battle with this man is pointless now. He won't believe you anyway, he has to see for himself. See what you keep telling him.

One thing you were sure of right from the start. This guy was definitely confident and he didn't tolerate a word of disagreement, he knew best. Stubborn. Probably soulless, a killing machine. Who knows what bad shit he'd done in the past?

So as you slowly walk towards the building next to the tower, you wonder if your back might get shot. Simple and clear. He will execute you and this will all be over. Perhaps it would have been better. Maybe that was your end.

Fate. Destiny.

Maybe these two years of loneliness and torment were supposed to end this way. Your body will remain near the tower as a warning to other travelers. If anyone but the two of you had survived this long. Because during these few months, without seeing any sign of another person's life, you began to believe that you were completely alone. That somehow you were the only one who survived.

Day 64

You

You didn't think the crisis would come so quickly. That you will lose faith. You didn't see any solution to the situation, or there never was one.

You weren't the type of person who was sad, emotional, or prone to depression. You were always a ray of light, a cheerful green pea, as your dad used to say.

But now, as more days passed, more days of darkness, emptiness, silence. Fucking loneliness.

You couldn't handle it.

You have stopped looking out the window for hours, hoping that your loved ones will come home.

That some familiar face will save you. That someone will break the silence.

The worst were the sleepless nights. Curled up somewhere in a corner or hidden in a bathroom, somewhere in a room without windows. As far away from the outside walls as possible.

You gave up really fast. And you made one most important decision. And that day, early in the morning, when the first rays of sunlight appeared in the sky. You left the house at a brisk pace and easily reached your destination without stopping. Standing in front of the abandoned pharmacy, you knew why and for what you had come here. Without blinking an eye, you went inside and quickly found the right packages and took them from the shelves. Then, just as efficiently, you hurried back to the empty family house.

However, as you crossed the threshold of the building, the familiar smell, so close to your heart reached your nostrils. Home, the family nest. The door slammed behind you and then, for the first and only time, you hesitated.

Just as you had done for years, now, you called out to the empty rooms.

“Mom? Dad? Sis?... I'm back..."

Silence.

Nobody answered.

Emptiness.

So that was a sign, no one was there. And the decision was made, there was no turning back.

Sitting down on a chair in the dining room, you carefully unpacked the contents of the packages you brought. Earlier, you prepared a kitchen mortar and a glass of water.

Slowly, systematically, one by one, you place tablets of different sizes on the bottom of the agate dish. You don't know what quantity is right. Probably the bigger the better. The more the faster. The larger the quantity, the much painless it should be. You hope so. End the pain. Put an end to this misery.

Stirring slowly with a heavy stone pestle, you don't worry that some of the grinded medicine, will fall on the table. White powder stains the dining room table and your jeans.

Nobody will see the mess anyway. And if they do, they won't pay attention to such a detail anyway. They're more likely to notice you.

You pour the ground contents into a glass of water. Hoping that some of it will dissolve and make it easier for you to drink.

Bitterness. This is all you feel.

The cold water with the crushed tablets slowly passes down your throat into your stomach.... The bitterness on your tongue. The ground up undissolved pieces irritate your gums, sticking like sand between your teeth. You feel the acid under your tongue. Something in your throat.

You slowly swallow the rest of the mixture in the glass. Now you just have to wait. You fall asleep.

Alone.

But you won't wake up on your own. Eternal peace. Eternal peaceful sleep.

Maybe it'll be better if there's anything waiting for you afterward. If only this pain would go away.

That's what you're counting on. Well, you haven't been good at math since kindergarten.

Day 732 

Finally, after a long while of walking, with a feeling of fear, with the gun pointed at your back, you reach the door of the building. With a deep sigh, slightly irritated by this whole protracted situation, you open the door

“Hey guys, come out.”

With irony in your voice, you look at the man standing at a notable distance from you.

"You see? Like I said, no one. here. There isn't"

You say angrily, clenching your fists. After a few moments, you turn on your heel and cross your arms over your chest, waiting for Ghost to move. Whatever was going on in his head right now was starting to irritate you. Constant silence on his part, and when he did have something to say. It was his words that were cold, harsh. Angry, rough commands. He addresses you without respect.

In fact, he treats you worse than a dog.

“I'll shoot you if no one comes out soon."

Ghost adjusted the gun resting on his shoulder, still aiming at you.

“No one will come out of this building...”

You sigh.

“...maybe you'll finally believe me and we'll end this nonsense? If this is how you host all your guests. I'd rather not know how my predecessors ended up.”

You add, exhaling loudly through your nose

“And I don't really want to find out”

While waiting for the man's reaction, you look at him closely. Why is he so hostile? Why does he still not believe you?

Yes, no one had the right in these strange times to trust anyone or anything, however, you appeared in the area defenseless. Without any weapons. You didn't even think to bring a knife with you. Nothing for possible self-defense. So he, after all, was just plain stubborn.

Finally, the man slowly, silently approaches you and searches the inside of the building.

Of course there is no one inside.

Paying no attention to you, the masked man turned around and moves back toward the vehicle.

“Let's go. There's not much time left.”

He throws over his shoulder in your direction. Nothing more, no apologies, you're right. I believe you now. No remorse, no understanding. Heartless, strange, Ghost.

As you sit next to the dog, with your back to the boot, the man starts the car with a squeal of tyres. The speed of the car is definitely higher. You are going too fast, even though there are no other road users besides you. It's as if Ghost is racing against the setting sun. Every now and then he nervously checks his watch and turns his head over his shoulder, towards the western sky. And so on and on.

The streets grow darker and darker. Night is coming. Nightfall.

This time you are heading in a different direction from the centre. A new, unfamiliar one. With Riley at your side, you watch the changing landscape with curiosity. Crowded, densely built-up streets with many tall buildings turn into new suburbs. Single family houses and wide pavements with overgrown yards appear before our eyes. This must once have been a nice, quiet and green neighbourhood. Families with children probably spent their best moments here, enjoying a happy life together. The middle class probably lived here and worked hard for every square metre. After school, children rode their bikes on the wide streets or ran on the green, evenly mowed lawns.

Once. Past. Memories.

Finally, after several minutes of crazy driving, the man parks the car next to one of the houses. Hurriedly he gets out and opens the garage door with a flourish.

Ghost quickly pulls in and reaches for the dog and pulls him out of the trunk. He puts him in another car, parked in the garage next door.

“Hurry up, we don't have much time.”

With that, Ghost opens the passenger door and gets behind the wheel without waiting for you.

When you change to a smaller vehicle and sit on the passenger side, you ask in surprise

“Why a we changing the car? What's going on?"

He doesn't answer anything, he rushes away. He drives for a while, again, in silence you notice him circling the area. You definitely pass the same house several times.

“Why are we driving around?”

You ask with a little fear. From minute to minute, every behavior of a man causes increasing nervousness in your body. Again, you find his behavior strange, irrational.

‘We need to confuse the trail, cover our tracks.’

The man finally speaks up and after a few moments stops at the next house.

‘Stay in the car and don't go anywhere, understood?’

Ghost quickly picks up Riley and, with the dog in his arms, marches quickly in an unknown direction. Disappearing from your sight after a moment. You're left alone, in the car, in an unknown place.

The sun was almost below the horizon, a small red glow gently illuminated the wide street.

Suddenly, the door opens on your side and you jump in your seat, slightly scared. Seeing the now familiar, masked figure, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Shit!”

 You clutch your chest, mumbling.

“Put this on your shoes and walk fast, damn it.”

The man hands you something like hospital slippers. You quickly put them on over your shoes. Hearing his voice, you know perfectly well that there is no time for discussion. Time is running out.

"Pull your hair back or keep it out of the wind and follow me quickly. Don't you dare turn around and stop!"

The man grabs you by the elbow and pulls you out of the car. He moves quickly, taking quick and decisive long strides. Compared to his legs, yours are considerably shorter than his, you practically have to run to keep up with his pace.

Not only do your legs hurt, but you are simply out of shape. Many weeks of trekking to this city and saving the portions of food you took with you. And also, the nerves caused by today have left you simply out of shape, out of strength.

Stumbling, your legs slowly give up and you hold your hair with one hand to keep it from being blown away by the wind, as commanded. You try not to fall behind the man.

At one point, Ghost slows down for a moment and turns his head, looking behind him.

“Damn it, faster.”

Regardless of your protests, he grabs you and lifts you off the ground.

"Hold on to me and don't let go."

He energetically grabs your hips and lifts you up, pulling your body towards him. He squeezes your plump body hard, digging into your skin. He's practically running now. You hold on to him, praying that he doesn't fall under the pressure of your weight or suddenly drop you.

However, nothing of the sort happens, and you both quickly reach one of the larger houses in the area. The only thing that distinguishes it from the others. Apart from its size, is that it has massive shutters and is not as overgrown with weeds as the others in the area.

The man opens the door locks, with one hand, and hurriedly enters the house. Finally, he sets you down on the floor, mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He closes first one front door and then another, more massive one with multiple security features.

The room goes dark.

‘Where are we?’

You finally ask hesitantly, catching your breath. You didn't even notice when you held your breath.

‘In my house.’

He answers briefly and walks past you into the cramped vestibule, deep into the dark hallway

‘Take off your shoes and jacket, leave them here. Follow me.’

Ghost's house is warm and somehow strangely cozy. Standing in the doorway of the living room, while the man hastily closes the shutters and before the room goes completely dark, you try to look around. Get acquainted with the new surroundings.

The interior is decorated in a simple style. Plain, single-coloured shelves. The dark furniture bends slightly under the pressure of the collected objects. Against the walls, where there is no furniture, stand towers of neatly arranged things. There were a lot of objects here. Everything neatly, perfectly arranged. Books, CDs, clothes, bins, boxes containing other things (rather essential for survival and ordinary daily needs). Everything neatly and evenly grouped. You will not be surprised if you find that the man has everything carefully catalogued. So if you were to ask him for a small lithium battery of the CR1620 type, he would certainly find it in a few moments, without hesitation.

Despite the large number of items stored, the space does not seem cluttered. In the middle of the room is a large dark sofa with a small coffee table, opposite one of the walls on which is a large flat-screen TV. Looking to your right, you notice a slight glow and notice that instead of another wall with lots of cupboards and shelves filled in, there are open double sliding doors that lead into the kitchen. Now that glow reaches you, it's the light from the LED lamps above the worktop, slightly illuminating the distant room. You make a mental note to ask the man later where he gets his electricity from. Because he definitely has some sort of energy source. So it's not just the tower you were in last time that has a power source. It looks like this house has been inhabited for a long time and is definitely set up to live in such apocalyptic conditions for a long time. Rather, you could ask the man if he found this house by chance. Did he know about this building beforehand, and if not, how did he know to prepare so much?

Maybe he was one of those weirdos who believed every conspiracy theory, every rumour. Perhaps he was once in some sect that spoke of the imminent end of the world.

When Ghost finishes closing the shutters, the room is completely dark. You don't even hear the man moving around the room because suddenly you hear his low voice from behind you.

“Follow me, you need to wash up.”

It's only now that it's come to you. That's right. You must stink badly. Now the smell must be clearly noticeable in an enclosed room.

You feel a wave of shame sweep over you. Your cheeks are definitely red.

So many days of wandering, sleeping anywhere, as long as there was a roof over your head.

When you set off, you didn't take too many things with you. You mainly packed food, a sleeping bag and one thick sweatshirt, which usually served as a pillow. In order not to carry too many weight in your rucksack. You did not take excess clothing, but only the most necessary things to survive. You didn't expect to find much food along the way that was still edible. You didn't know how long the trek would take. However, you didn't think it would be that long. Too long.

So you turn away in shame, lowering your head, even though the house is dark, you are afraid of the man's gaze. You feel your way towards where the Ghost's voice had just come from.

You feel embarrassed about yourself, you must have, well literally, stank. You can't even remember the last time you washed yourself properly. Before setting off, you managed to heat up the water you had collected and washed yourself thoroughly in the bath. You don't even remember how many days ago that was. Too long ago to remember.

You have quite long hair, which you had tied up in a braid for days without even untangling it or combing it every day. Now many strands have fallen out of the braid, in fact, even your hairstyle looked more like your hair was loose than braided.

But the fatigue and frustration of the ongoing journey had subsided and you no longer cared about looking presentable. You didn't expect to meet anyone.

Seeing the soft light that spread a pleasant warm and yellow aura in the narrow corridor. You slowly approach the open door. Finally you hear the clear voice of a man from deep in the room, and he speaks to you again in the same dark and monotonous voice.

“Take a bath, you have everything you need in the bathtub”

Then, following his voice, you enter a slightly lit room.

It is a large bathroom decorated in a minimalist style. Dark tiles and silver fittings. No windows, no shelves of supplies. Simple minimalist interior.

A man stands next to a large free-standing bathtub. Without waiting for your answer, he leaves and speaks again.

“Wait a few minutes, the water needs to heat up”

Before you can say anything, Ghost pushes past you and closes the door behind him.

You stand in the room for a few moments, you feel so unreal and strange. As if you were in some hotel. On a special vacation.

There was a time, well, you hardly even remember, when you had things like hot water, warmth, a house without a dripping roof and just a safe space. Everything is prepared and at your disposal. You don't have to search for anything. Scouring shops and houses to find the thing you need like shampoo, toothpaste or a hairbrush.

You sit down on the closed toilet, gently remove your gloves and place them on the sink, having to wash them by hand to put them back on as quickly as possible.

You struggle to remove your shoes, and a terrible sight appears to your eyes: socks that were probably white were now a mixture of several colours. Brown, greyish black or crimson. With great difficulty you remove the sock, hissing loudly in pain. The cotton material has stuck to the dried blood, fusing with the cotton material of the sock and with your foot. Some of the wounds are reopening. Most of the nails are practically black. They are likely to fall off soon. Now that your feet are finally uncovered and you are free to lay them on the cold stone tiles on the bathroom floor. You breathe more deeply.

Cursing under your breath, you try to undress. You slowly stand up, shaking on your swollen legs. It seems to you that it is even worse than when you had tightly knotted shoes on your feet the whole time.

After a few moments, you slowly reach for the rest of your clothes and slowly undress, throwing your dirty clothes on the floor. The last layer of clothes, the one closest to your skin, has practically stuck to it. The material is wet, as if greasy and even hard in some places, soaked through with the sweat that your skin has secreted over many weeks.

When you finally manage to undress, with shaking legs you walk over to the bath and sit down on its edge. As you turn on the tap you almost sob with joy. It's been a long time since you've seen running water. Hot straight from the tap. It used to be a normal thing that attracted attention, today it's an incredible luxury.

You hesitantly reach your hand under the flowing stream of water and shiver with pleasure. It's really, really warm. You don't even know what you're going to say to Ghost when you get out after your bath. You are so grateful to him. There are no words now to describe your joy and gratitude over such a trivial matter as this bath.

You reach for the bottle standing next to the bath. A 3-in-1 body wash. For men. Well, you can't have everything. But even if you only had warm running water at your disposal, you wouldn't mind at all.

When the bath fills to the bottom, you slowly step into it and sit down. Despite the growing tingling on your skin and the pinching of your wounds. You lean more comfortably against the tub, tilt your head back and close your eyes. You finally feel comfortable and can relax, at least for a while. Your muscles and injured skin, although they seem to hurt less for a while, can finally rest.

Hot water heats the bathroom, slowly steam appears in this small space, it becomes stuffy.

The bath takes a really long time. You contemplate how the water will slowly warm your frozen, swollen body. You wash every inch of your body thoroughly. The gel smells nice, you can feel lavender and sandalwood.

You don't care that a man might be angry with you and full of further resentment. Because you spent so much time in the bathroom. That you used too much water.

It feels so wonderful. Blissful. You finally wash your greasy and tangled hair and massage your scalp. You feel tears coming to your eyes. For the first time in you don't know when, you feel safe, just clean and comfortable. You allow yourself moments of weakness.

Relaxed, you fall asleep, but unfortunately the bad memories haunt you once again.

Days 64-66

You

You didn't see how long it would be before these peculiar cocktails full of anxiety would kick in, so you chose the closest place that seemed comfortable. The sofa in the living room.

Lying down, you hugged one of the cushions you had taken from your parents' bedroom earlier. It was big, soft and smelled like.... Mum. Home. The closeness. Security. Stability. All the good things that no longer existed.

You don't know how much time has passed, each passing minute seems like an eternity.

Eventually your eyelids become heavier and heavier. Your breathing slows down. You fall asleep. Hoping forever.

Unfortunately, you were wrong, the mixture of drugs was not what you expected. You wake up with a terrible, huge stomach ache, headache, nausea. You don't even have the strength to open your eyes.

You vomit. You can't collect your thoughts, you don't know what's going on. There is only one thing in your head: pain, pain, pain.

All this goes on for hours, moaning in pain, nausea, fainting. Breathing problems come on suddenly, convulsions occur.

Everything is one long agony.

This is not how it was supposed to be.

You were not meant to suffer.

Tears run down your cheeks, mixing with the vomit that is practically everywhere. You must have fallen off the couch. You don't even feel yourself hitting the floor.

Everything hurts so much.

 You fall asleep for brief moments. It all continues, the pain, the crying, the momentary loss of consciousness and then back again. Vicious circle. Endless.

When it all goes away for a while, you don't have the strength to get up, you stare at the white ceiling. Your heart beats fast.

Night and day pass. In the end, everything slowly subsides. This time you have failed. Something gave you another chance. Maybe there was a reason that you survived after all.

Days 732

You

You wake up abruptly and only after a while do you remember where you are. The bath water is already cold. You sit up shrinking your legs, hugging your legs tightly to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them. You bury your head, trying to make the bad memories disappear, hide, or preferably erase them from your mind.

It's not just the constant, daily nightmares that remind you of the ordeal that day. When you swallowed the ground pills and the wrong mixture caused one of the side effects to appear. That night you lost some of your hearing.

Maybe it was a punishment, or maybe it was meant as a reminder. It's not worth it. You shouldn't. No.

You will never forget.

Once the water is very cold, we get out of the bath. Although your body has thankfully relaxed a little. You wrap yourself in a towel and look around the bathroom. No sign of a change of clothes. After all, you're not going to parade around in a small towel that barely covers your pudgy body.

Slowly, hesitantly, you open the bathroom door, wanting to call out and ask a man for clean clothes. Because there is no point in wearing the old ones. They are fit to burn at most. You don't believe that even the best washing machine and detergents can cope with such dirt that has dried for weeks.

Looking down the corridor you notice a few changes. The corridor is softly lit, no longer dark.

And the other thing is that there is a chair opposite the bathroom door.

And on it lie nicely stacked brand new clothes, deodorant and a toothbrush. Next to it lie plasters, bandages and wound disinfectant.

You look around the corridor, but there is no one there but you.

In the distant kitchen you hear the clink of plates and cupboards being opened. You think you hear the clatter of Riley's claws walking quickly across the kitchen floor, a very familiar sound, something known from the past.

In addition to the symphony of sounds, your nostrils are filled with a smell. Food. Dinner. Definitely a warm meal. It's all so unreal, ordinary, idyllic. So innocent and mundane. As if those two years never happened, as if you were spending your weekend off gossiping at a friend's house. And you weren't struggling in drudgery and terror to survive.

Hurriedly, feeling your stomach growl with hunger, you pick up the things Ghost left for you from the chair. You glance at the tag of one of the clothes, not only were they the right size, they were from a really good and expensive company.

Returning to the bathroom you smile slightly, hugging the fresh and tactile clothes.

Well, maybe meeting and visiting Ghost's house wasn't as bad as you thought at first.

And maybe under the mask he wasn't such a scary person after all.

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[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Die Hard With a Vengeance (McTiernan, 1995)

The first two movies I rewatch most years for Christmas so I've seen them a ton of times. This one I've seen less, in part because it's not tied to any specific holiday, but also because I always felt it loses a little once Gruber's motives are revealed (that he loves gold and isn't just a psycho out for revenge) and fizzles out at the end. I probably still feel that way but this time around I definitely appreciated more how much it plays like a video game. Gruber's diabolical puzzles are like minigames, and the heroes drive like maniacs across town, stealing one shitty car after another when they've managed to wreck the one they're currently using, like a Grand Theft Auto game.

Given Bruce Willis' retirement last year, it's been nice to go back and see him in his prime. One great discovery has been his guest role in the "No Exit" episode of Miami Vice, a show I will never, ever stop talking about, where his charisma clashes with his vileness. McClane in this one isn't peak magnetism Bruce Willis like the first two movies, but more the hungover asshole Bruce Willis like in The Last Boy Scout (another great discovery for me last year). He looks like shit, everyone keeps telling him he smells bad, he's working through a brutal hangover, and he wields profanities like a blunt weapon. ("Hey, fuckhead. Yeah, you, fuckhead.")

The racial stuff has definitely aged awkwardly, but what can I say, Willis and Samuel Jackson play off each other terrifically. I also appreciate that it's in the context of New York as a living, breathing city. And on that note, I like that this movie shows the city apparatus working in concert and reasonably effectively in the face of such unprecedented challenges. It's a nice contrast to the incompetence of the authorities in the first movie. I don't think the supporting characters are fleshed out with as much personality as in the first two movies, but I liked seeing people like Colleen Camp and Graham Greene and even little Aldis Hodge. And while Kevin Chamberlin seems like he's being set up for comic relief, he gets a nice moment of genuine courage.

The second movie gets knocked for following the original's template as slavishly as it does (one of the reasons I like it so much is that it's pretty much the best Die Hard clone there is and just happens to be a sequel), but this definitely has its share of overt callbacks. McClane slamming the door into the guy, McClane taking out a taller, stronger opponent using a chain, McClane (and Zeus) jumping away from the explosion, the last of which looks quite a bit choppier than in the original. I don't think this has as many exclamatory moments as the previous films, and the emphasis on expansive, open air action doesn't really play to John McTiernan's strengths as a visual stylist, but there are plenty of the classic glossy, lens-flare-heavy McTiernan widescreen frames if you look for them.

One last note: When McClane calls his wife, he refers to somebody named Carmine. True Die Hard fans know that this is the first name of the Dennis Franz character in the second movie. Is the implication that McClane's wife left him for Dennis Franz when he moved back to New York and she stayed in L.A.? To my knowledge, none of the sequels proved otherwise.

[wjforever]

Shatter me again. Chapter 95. Final chapter

"We're here," Kenji declares, and I look out the window, tearing my eyes away from Adam. 

I discover that we're underground, in some kind of elaborate parking garage, and I am angry with myself for missing the moment when we drove inside. I should have been more careful. But I have an excuse. Adam is getting worse, and I tried to periodically bring him out of a semi-conscious state. It was getting harder and harder for me. It hurts to feel almost useless when you can't help a loved one. Not surprisingly, all my attention was exclusively on him. It doesn't matter where we're going or how we get there. If only Adam would alive.

"Adam has to go straight to the medical wing," Kenji announces.

"They have a medical wing?" This surprises me. I hoped that they had doctors and some medicines, medical instruments. But the medical wing… It doesn't make me happy, it scares me. Because I just recently escaped from a place where there was something similar. But Kenji doesn't notice my worry.

"Oh, this place has everything. It'll blow your goddamn mind."

The anxiety only gets stronger. Because I'm not sure we haven't arrived at another base, with another handful of psychopaths. I just got rid of one. I won't outlive anyone else.

Kenji hits a switch on the ceiling and a faint light illuminates the car. Still struggling with his body, he steps out the door.

"Wait here, I'll get someone to bring a stretcher."

"Okay." I nod. Adam's health is the most important thing right now.

Kenji disappears from sight and I look at Adam. I study his facial features. He should be fine, he definitely should. 

A few seconds pass. A few moments of peace and calm. And then everything happens too fast.

Four people suddenly run into the room. Two men and two women. They immediately approach the car. Kenji opens the door for them from Adam's side. It's strange, but Kenji suddenly looks completely different. He seems stronger, faster, even taller. It's weird, considering how exhausted he seemed to me recently. But now I see that he's in control. A figure of authority. These people know and obey him.

I suddenly feel real anxiety, almost fear. What if I was wrong? What if I trusted the wrong person. Another psychopath could have played another role. Someone good-natured, friendly-minded to us. Hasn't Warner been doing the same thing all this time? My God, what am I doing? I should have listened to Adam's intuition. He has it much better developed than mine.

But it's too late. Adam is already being lifted onto a stretcher, quickly examined. It's hard for me to make out what they're saying. Something about blood loss, about the need for urgent measures. 

A young woman and a man look at me. They are all dressed in strange outfits. White suits with gray stripes down the side. It's probably a medical uniform.

"How long has he been in such condition?" A woman asks me.

"It's been a few hours." Kenji answers for me. "Hurry up."

His voice is so authoritative, confident.

I see them starting to take Adam away.

"Wait!" I shout and at the same time trip out of the car. "Wait. I'll go with you!"

I know James is still in the car and I should probably stay with him. But I want to be near Adam.

Kenji stops me halfway.

"You can't go with them. Not now. Don't prevent them from doing their job. You can’t be with him for what they need to do."

"What? What do you mean?"

The world goes is fading in and out of focus. Everything suddenly seems so unreal. It's like I'm in a dream. And everything loses its meaning. It seems to me that I was deceived. Again. I was mistaken. I trusted someone I shouldn't have. I don't know where we are. I don't know who all these people are. I have no idea who Kenji is. And in his appearance at our place are so many oddities. He never explained anything to us, joking or talking some nonsense. Why did I believe him at all? Wasn't experience supposed to teach me anything? You can't take people's word for it. And this doesn't look at all like groundless paranoia.

Kenji. He has been Adam's friend. But is he a friend? Judging by their relationship, Adam has always treated him skeptically, without much trust and enthusiasm. Adam seems to know him, but hasn't he doubted him all this time? Adam. My Adam. Adam, who these people are taking away from me now, and I'm not even allowed to go with him to make sure everything is okay. And I don't know why.

"They will help him, Juliette. You need to focus, pull yourself together. I understand it's been a crazy day, you're tired. But I need you to stay calm.

His voice is suddenly so soft, so steady, so clear. I've heard something similar before. Warner talked to me like that when he tried to convince me of something. Oh, my God.

"Who are you?" I'm beginning to panic. I want to take James and Adam and get the hell out of here. But I can't. Adam has already been taken away. James is unconscious and I don't even know what he did to him. And I can't drive the damn car. "Who are you…?"

Kenji sighs. "You're exhausted. Probably starving. You're in shock from a million emotions. This is logical. I understand. I won't hurt you. You're safe now. All of you. Adam is safe. James is safe."

Jesus, how familiar it sounds, how familiar it is. I can hear him in Kenji's voice. I still have the gun in my hand. His gun. I can't handle them all, I'm not sure that the gun will fire even one more time. But I could try. At least try… I squeeze the butt of the gun, trying to give Kenji one last chance. To give myself one last attempt to believe…

"I want to be with Adam… I want to see what they're going to do to him…"

"Juliette, it's unnecessary. They're helping him…"

I don't want to hear him.

"What are you going to do with us? Why do you really need us? Why did you lure us here?" My eyes are wide open, I look around, trying to better understand where we are. "What do you want from us? Do you need me? Right? You all need me. And Adam and James are suffering because of me."

"Hey, Juliette. I'll explain everything to you when you rest and calm down."

"No! No! I don't want to be here."

Kenji looks down, rubs his forehead, reaches into his pocket. "I really didn’t want to have to do this."

I freeze. I know I'm in danger, but I feel numb and for some reason I can't bring myself to raise my hand with a gun. Just not again. And I don't even think about using my power against him. Meanwhile, he takes something that looks like a gun out of his pocket. But strange, plastic, transparent one. I've seen something like this before. It seems to be used to put wild animals to sleep. They've already disabled Adam. And James, too. And he's got a portion for me too.

It's all a lie. I doubted for a reason. No wonder I felt alarm and suspicion. He didn't find sleeping pills in Adam's first aid kit, he had it with him. I start backing away, I want to run away, it seems to me that I'm screaming.

Something pricks my arm.

And the darkness consumes me, dissolving my consciousness without a trace.

THE END

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[mothman-is-my-girlfriend]

Saw this making the rounds on my dashboard and wanted to add to the chain!

1. Are you named after anyone? Yes, actually. My mom was a very big fan of Jimmy Buffett in the 90s (and still is but it's not a daily occurrence anymore lol) so I'm actually named after his daughter, Savannah. Funny tidbit to mention when people ask if I'm named for the city in Georgia. 😅

2. When was the last time you cried? Oh, girl... I cry all the time. My brain has a hard time tracking emotions over time so I just kind of feel everything very intensely in the moment. I have to use journals to track my emotions over time, but I'm just a fairly sensitive person in general thanks to my upbringing. It is what it is, and I deal with it. I'm just glad I let it out frequently instead of bottling it up like I used to!

3. Do you use sarcasm? Ehhh.... sometimes, maybe? Depends on your definition of sarcasm. I have a hard time figuring out when people are joking with me though, especially at work.

4. What's the first thing you notice about people? Usually their personality to be honest. I had a really hard time making friends as a kid so I pretty much get along with someone right away, or we aren't ever friends. (Not to say that I'm ever outright rude to people, of course.) I guess that's just ADHD to ADHD communication? For example, I had a new coworker start in mid September and I just immediately knew we'd be friends outside of work eventually. Now we go on hikes and hang out! Idk how else to describe the feeling.

5. What's your eye color? Hazel - which is annoying because most people assume I'm full of shit until I'm in good light. 🤣 any other lighting and the green doesn't show through.

6. Scary movie or happy ending? I love creepy-scary vibes but actually watching or playing a scary movie or game is too much for me. I don't enjoy being scared. Happy endings for me!

7. Any special talents? I'm quite good at art when given proper direction. I'm thinking of taking some non credit classes at my local community college to really push me back into my old hobby in a way that isn't just drawing my little OCs on blank backgrounds. I have painted a few things this year, though, like a portrait of my cat, and a flower pot. I really need to get back into it. I'd say my stronger skill at the moment is making exceptional coffee! I love my job and enjoy brewing at home as well.

8. Where were you born? Maryland. (Mid Atlantic US) I still live in MD, but I made the jump from the teeny tiny town I grew up in, to Baltimore. I love the city, and this state. It's little, but we have the ocean, the famous Chesapeake Bay, Assateague Island, and a bit of the Appalachians. When you get past the terrible traffic, there's so much to do here.

9. What are your hobbies? Doodling, playing older video games, hiking/camping, and learning as much as I can about coffee.

10. Do you have any pets? This is such a complex answer for me. I have two cats currently living with my partner and I in our home. Our lease wouldn't allow us to bring my snakes, so my mother is currently caring for my two ball pythons. I hope to have a whole room for them one day when I get a home! My mom also still has one of my childhood dogs, Chance, who is 13, and struggling with dementia and arthritis. He comes to visit me sometimes. :) I miss that big old dopey dog.

11. What sports do you play/have you played? I was actually involved in competitive cheerleading growing up. I remember it fondly, even if I wasn't ever very flexible and kept losing my backhand spring no matter how many times I learned. I had the best jump on my team, though! Unfortunately, I do have permanent damage to my knees and shoulders from it. The knee pain in particular has kept me off the hiking trails for the last year. :(

12. How tall are you? VERY short! I'm 5'2 (even shorter than gillian anderson lol) which is hilarious because my partner is a solid foot taller than me!!

13. What was your favorite subject in school? Growing up, my favorite subject was definitely band class. I can remember every song we played in my 8th grade year. I still miss Mrs. Ewing! She was an incredible teacher and our simple middle school band was actually well known in the area for being better than most high school bands! I also adored Latin class and I'm even friends with my old magistra on facebook 😅 she had a tumblr back in 2015 when I had her class so maybe she's still bouncing around on here somewhere. She made a point to never tell us her username lol

14. Dream job? This has actually changed a lot recently. Now that I've been a barista for 2 years, I've really developed a passion for making coffee. I'm signed up for some business classes at my local community college next month and have ideas for my own coffee roasting business one day. I'm envisioning a shop named for my cat, Oliver. ❤️ Coffee tastes good, and I love the connections you can make with people through it. Idk, it just makes me really happy to see customers enjoy my coffee while catching up with an old friend, or sitting on their laptop doing work all day in the shop while I'm also working. Food service really isn't all bad when you have a great crew.

Thanks for reading all of that! If you see this and you're my mutual (or not) consider yourself tagged and free to copy this.

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, I feel really bad about making this so long so there is a split at 7 where its onto another ask. Every answer past 7 is kinda long (especially 8), so im very very sorry. I'll try to not make anything this long again I promise.

1: He does fall back into that mindset at times. At first the others didn't get it but just let him be him. Not realizing it was a bad thing. Its only after they finally got Ranbob to tell then what lead to him getting so connected to the Dream Presence they realizie its a bad thing. But unlike the Presence which promises to make him perfect, they just constantly re-assure him that he doesn't need to be perfect and even encouraging him to make mistakes. Like if Ranbob makes a mistake and drops a plate, he'll freak out, but Benjamin conforts him. Reassuring him that he's ok and that no one is mad. 

2: I still sadly don't have a backstory for them or have planned who met who first. I have some ideas but so far I haven't choosen to go with any certain one yet. The ages don't really play a huge role in their relationship, but it is agreed that Benjamins a father figure or role model to the rest of the group. Especially Ranbob. Isaac actually takes the lead more often than not! Benjamin just sometimes takes the lead in certain situations and is a follower who has a stronger voice/say in what happens than the rest. 

3: If you ask Ran, he'll say he went along because he saw how happy the idea of the roadtrip made his family, and saw how much it meant to them. But there's also a small part of Ran that he pretends he doesnt know exists, that wants to consider Ranbob his brother again and wants to be as close as they used to be, a part of Ran does severly miss his brother and wants him back. But he's far to scared to get close to him again and let him close to his family after what happened. 

4: Nah Jackie knows those things. He's just messing around with Watson and wanted to see him be uncomfortable.

5: Not as many people forfeit as you would think surprisingly! When people get far enough to face off against the gladiators their usually either to stubborn to forfeit or they falsely believe they can beat them. I like to think that Grievous had a problem with people putting stuff in his food, like maybe his family used to put strength potions (basically drugs in this world) in his soup before any training sessions, making him cheat without knowing, and even putting poison in his food a few times when he confronted them about it or was disobedient. And since it was said Jackie was found off the streets I like to think that his family had abandoned him, and over time he got close to people who said would protect him, only for them to either die or leave him.

6: Ran wins most of the time in the games like Dart Throwing or Spoons. Like Jackie tends to win Gold Fish and Tic Tac Toe. Uh, let's just say Jackie and Ran got very heated during a round of Dart Throwing and a dart was thrown that ended up hitting Ran in the stomach, and a punch followed that to Jackie. Watson had to come and break it up and since then enforced that he had to be present during any game of Dart Throwing. He wasnt present once and while nothing bad happened Watson chastised them about not having him there. Everyone has good poker faces expect Jackie, he just can't keep a straight face which usually ends up in someone else laughing at him and losing their poker face for the rest of the game. Grievous has the best luck in games of chance! He doesn't know how but most of the time he manages to win and is between confused and disbelief. 

7: I am not very good with height. I have no concept of measurement of any kind what so ever. I have it so Ran is 8'6 and Jackie is 5'5 but I have no idea how big that exactly is and if its to big or to small for them. Jackie has two main options for dealing with mean people, 1)Be mean back and hit them where it hurts (physically and mentally if possible) or 2)Act like its all ok then go cry later. He typically picks 2 and goes to anyone from the group for comfort. And im not sure if your talking about the fishermens fighting skills or how they react to the gladiators fighting skills (same for the last question)? The fishermen defiantly aren't the best fighters, but because they live in a area where they do get attacked by mobs or thefts everynow and again they do know how to fight. Their actually surprised how far they got in the Pit. The difference in skill level is enough to be noticed definitely, its big enough that Grievous, Jackie, and Watson offer training and mentorship to them. 

1: Ranbob needs a lot of help and comfort-it’s very lucky the fishermen are willing to give it to him. However, it does sound like it was a bit before such happened. How far along did it get before one of the others noticed, or he told them about Dream?

2: So Isaac takes the lead? Interesting. Why is that exactly? What does he have/do that makes him a good leader?

3: Ran’s going through some stuff, huh? But hey, a start’s a start. Hopefully it goes somewhere better than it was. I look forward to seeing the healing journey.

4: I’m not surprised in the slightest, but I am vaguely amused. 

5: Well, I’m sure some quickly come to regret their decisions. Also, ouch. Everyone’s really going through the ringer here. Did those potions have any lasting affects? Do the others’ know of their friends’ tragic backstories? If so, how do they feel about that, and how did they find out?

6: Y’know, I never would have imagined dart throwing could escalate like that, but then again, considering the group, I’m not as surprised as I should be. Was that dart an accident or? And how far does Grievous’ luck extend? Could he win the lottery, or is it more just for small games?

7: I believe there are height charts, if you want help with that, where you can type in the height. But I may be wrong, I’ve only seen them in passing. Ran sounds like an absolute tree, and Jackie’s taller than me, so at the very least, he can probably reach the top cabinets, if that’s any help. I’m not much good with height either though, so possibly wrong. How mean can Jackie get by the way? And how do the others react to both scenerios?

[alkhale]

Omg omg can one of the causes of fights between mini shanks n mini mihawks be bcs Hoku doesn't call him "Brat" ????

(First scene Mihawk is fifteen, next scene is 16 along with Shanks, best reference is the young Mihawk Oda drew but I found a slightly older version someone made, it’s colored by a deviantart user but I don’t know who the original artist is so credits to them!)

When fifteen-year-old Mihawk finally woke up, wild, ink black hair pushed back over his headit was to something soft and warm beneath his head and the flash, secondary instinct to grab his sword at his side, as though the hilt and his palm were connected entirely.

And then a soft laugh hit his ears.

A simple click and the memories returned, easy and a bit bitter to swallow, but he was not a fool and he was not an idiot. 

Dracule Mihawk, on a quest to become the strongest swordsman alive, had challenged the current reigning king of said title, and lost. Quickly, decisively and fairly. There was nothing more to dwell on the matter aside from his own lack of discipline, of training, and of certain skill.

Though such an action very much might have warranted losing his life, he was not dead.

Mihawk half turned to the woman who was waiting behind him, kneeling with a warm grin playing on her lips that allowed a thin glint of white from a canine of hers to peek out.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” Hoku said, “I’m never sure how to handle types like yours.”

Mihawk remained silent for a moment, dropping his eyes down to his hands. He considered their scabbed, rough feel hidden behind now clean white bandages. He touched his chest where he was no longer bleeding, tight white bandages wrapping neatly around him along with nothing but a bruise along the side of his face where the legendary Wado Ichimonji had decked him sideways and knocked him into the ocean without mercy.

“I did not ask to be treated,” Mihawk said calmly.

Hoku looked even more amused now, eyes a little half-lidded when she looked at him. Her heavy, sturdy coat hung over her shoulders but was pushed back to reveal the warm tan of steady arms–hands that knew work. He could clearly see the outline of her own blade–a notable, ungraded and legendary short sword by the name of Mau who earned its reputation far and wide.

This woman, Mihawk knew. He did not concern himself with the particulars of the legendary Straw Hat crew aside from their captain, Zoro, whom he longed to beat, and this woman, Hoku, since she was the only other crew member to carry a sword.

“I know,” Hoku said. Mihawk realized she had moved his head to her lap while he was unconscious. “I only did your hands, by the way. Chopper did the rest.”

Mihawk continued to stare at her.

“He thinks you have potential,” Hoku said simply. “You trim buds, but you don’t kill them off before they can bloom, do you?”

He understood now why he made it out with his life.

“You fight with that blade,” Mihawk said, though he posed it as a question. Hoku seemed to be considering whether or not he was worthy of an answer and he took no offense to this. He did not know of this woman’s skill, but he knew it existed. She had earned her rank and place. Her sword spoke to that.

“Not as much anymore,” Hoku said instead. “The two of us are a bit retired now and I definitely don’t take challenges like that monster. I’m more of an artist at heart.”

Mihawk had heard about that too. “But you craft.”

There was something pleased in her expression by his knowledge of this, though a touch wary. It made Mihawk a bit more interested himself. He turned, on his knees as he faced her with his hands on his lap.

“Yes,” Hoku said, a little warm. “I do.”

She tilted her head to the side for a moment, as though listening. “That’s a good sword. It kept you safe for now. It’ll do what it can to bring you as far as it can go.”

Mihawk touched his hilt and then looked at Hoku.He stared at her for a moment longer than he would have liked and then stood. Hoku blinked, curious as he remained standing before he promptly bowed to her.

“Thank you.”

And then Mihawk turned, a young man and his sword, and left.

Hoku watched him until he disappeared, a small, fond little huff escaping her lips.

“Told you there’s no point in talking to him,” a lazy voice called above her. Hoku didn’t even look, shrugging helplessly as heavy feet came to rest behind her. “Not much of a chatterbox.”

“Neither are you,” Hoku said. She rubbed the back of her neck, “Dunno. I just feel like you won’t see people like him often. He’s a bit cute. Like a stray, maybe?”

“You called that golden axe the other day cute too,” Zoro snorted. Hoku leaned back against his legs, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms high as she relaxed. “Might have to give him a scar to remember next time.”

“Ah, you’re soft on him,” Hoku said. “You like him.”

“Brat’s gonna come for my head next time.”

“I dunno, can’t you guys trade titles in the future without chopping each other’s heads off?”

Zoro set a hand down on her head. His fingers splayed out and Hoku turned to look up at him.

“That eager for me to kick the bucket?”

“Oh, please,” Hoku mused, tipping her head into Zoro’s hand. Her humored her, leaving it there for now and curving his fingers below her chin. “I don’t plan on letting anyone take your head anytime soon.”

Hoku made a face. “I’m speaking for Luffy, not for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, get off your lazy ass. I need a coating.”

“I’ll charge you one day for all you owe me. Nami’s keeping track.”

- - - -

Shanks really was lucky.

He had felt good about this beach the moment his crew set anchor on the other side of the harbor. He and Buggy were racing to see who could find the biggest and best catch and bring it back to the ship by dawn–

And truly, this was without a doubt, the best catch.

He knew it was her in an instant. It’d been a little while and he’d only caught glimpses of her in the newspapers, her captain making headline after headline as the marines raced after him. But that moon-white hair, the slope of her shoulders hidden by a cloak and–

She was just sitting there, where the grass of the forest met the sand, her back to everything else as she seemed to watch the ocean a safe distance away. Shanks thought he must be dreaming at first or perhaps this island had a secret mirage.

But he caught sight of their ship, her ship. A legendary ship anchored several leagues away and knew–

It was fate.

Something curled in the pit of his stomach. His heart pumped blood fast and hot through his body, fueling liquid courage all the way down to his fingertips. He was a year older now. He was less lank more muscle. He was taller too, maybe even taller than her now, he’d like to think, though he never minded a tall woman, he fancied the idea of cupping his hand under that curved chin and raising it to his–

Shanks’ eyes landed on a heavy bough of flowers beside him. Pretty, bright red things. A smaller branch of silver flowers grew below it. He considered them both, teetered dangerously and cursed under his breath, snapping the branch of soft silver flowers clean. 

He had to ease into this sort of thing after all. Coax her sweet so she wouldn’t slip off, make her a bit interested enough to stay.

Shanks ran a hand through his bright red hair and walked forward, lightly swinging the branch.

When he was only a little ways away, she seemed to finally register his approaching presence, as though he were a deer who’d broken away from a herd of things. She still faced away from him, tilting her head to the side as though listening curiously before she started to turn.

Shanks stopped as close as he dared for now, a few steps from her–and he kept in mind to treat kindly the fact that she let him get this close and that gave him hope–he dipped the branch low.

Those ocean eyes blinked, slow and curious, round at the bundle of flowers presented before her before looking up.

“I didn’t think there was treasure on this island,” Shanks said with a bright, sunny grin. “But it looks like I found some.”

“Brat,” Hoku said, pleasantly surprised. He withheld a wince at the name. “Huh, I guess Robin was right. This island is getting a little more popular now…”

“I think it was fate,” Shanks said. He shook the branch. Petals fell, dappling her hair and she looked up, amused at his antics. “Did you miss me?”

“I hardly thought about you at all,” Hoku said, a small smile on her lips. Shanks inched a step closer. “I thought we wouldn’t meet for ten more years.”

“I don’t think my heart could take such a thing,” Shanks crouched on the sand beside her. Hoku looked amused, watching him with vague curiosity. Her hair was a little longer and he’d fight to run his hands through it once.

“Too long for–” Shanks’ eyes dropped down and he stopped. He blinked, once, twice, and then a third time for good measure.

There, stretched out in the sand before her, was a youthful face. A face not much older than his own. A hardened face who Shanks recognized from the waves he was making. A face that was currently attached to a head that was very much resting on the soft and supple skin of Hoku’s thighs, fast asleep and–

Dracule Mihawk was sleeping on Hoku’s lap.

Shanks stared.

“Oh,” Hoku said, following his eyes. “He’s another rookie like you. Maybe you two have heard of each other–”

Shanks stared at Hoku as though she’d driven a knife right through his heart. His eyes went soft, staring at her in his best, most charming sense of a puppy-dog face. Hoku stared at him with round eyes, blinking. “What’s that look for? All I said was–”

As though summoned, Mihawks’ eyes finally slid open. Shanks gaped at him. Hoku looked down. The young swordsman seemed to consider several things for a moment before promptly he sat up–to Shanks’ relief–and turned to Hoku.

“He developed an even stronger technique,” Mihawk said.

“Oh, you noticed,” Hoku grinned. “He never stops advancing, you know. You’ll have to run to even get close to catching up.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes flickered before he nodded. He moved, standing up and Hoku let her hands fall into her lap. Shanks continued to gape.

“What’s the matter with you?” Soft fingers tapped the side of his face and Shanks’ head jerked to the side. His cheek connected with Hoku’s warm palm, ocean eyes curious as she watched him. “You seemed confident as a lion just a moment ago–”

“I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted,” Shanks said, a wide, quick grin curling on his lips. He flashed Mihawk a sharp look who simply stared blankly back at him in return. Hoku moved to pull her hand away and Shanks quickly reached up, cupping his hand over hers.

Hoku arched a brow.

“Lovely dove,” Shanks said, voice a little low, eyes a little pleading, expression soft. His fingers moved lightly over the back of her hand in a way he hoped was distracting. “What do I have to do to be spoiled like that?”

Hoku blinked. She seemed confused by his question for a moment before something must have clicked and then she laughed. Shanks’ eyes went half lidded at the sound and Mihawk raised a brow at the redhead’s expression.

“Challenge the greatest swordsman alive,” Hoku said, eyes a little wild. “And we’ll see what happens.”

Maybe I should play a little sick next time. Shanks wondered. I wouldn’t mind being spoiled like that–

“And you should really just let me coat your sword for you,” Hoku said, ignoring Shanks and pulling her hand away. He pouted at the loss and Hoku faced a calm Mihawk. “I promise it’ll help–”

“I’m not good enough to have you coat for me,” Mihawk said simply. “Not yet.”

Shanks huffed, “Dove, I’d gladly let you do anything to or for me–”

Shanks stopped.

He was fairly certain his heart might’ve too.

Red, soft, flush red colored her cheeks. Hoku’s eyes were a little wide, almost soft at Mihawk’s words. She looked hopelessly embarrassed, flushing in pride at the praise as she reached up and placed a hand over her face as though to hide the entire view, crumpling a bit.

“You can’t just going saying things like that,” Hoku said, sheepish and soft. “Really now–”

Shanks wanted that face engraved to memory. He wanted that face to be made because of him. He wanted it under his fingertips. He wanted it, begged for it beside him. He wanted to see it color darker, a little more flushed, eyes soft on him and his hands running low and pushing, playing, trying to see how much more he could–

Shanks paused. Maybe this time Buggy was right and a little bit of that passion was bleeding a bit toward somewhere else.

“HOOOKKKKKUUUUUU!” Shanks and Mihawk froze, the loud, resounding voice boomed across mountains, echoing blaringly clear. “WHEEEEEERREEE ARRREEEE YOOOUUUU?”

They both looked to each other, realization coloring their faces as to who the voice belonged to and–

Without another word, Hoku stood. Her head turned toward the sound of her name, at her call, eyes warm, the expression on her face–

Something Shanks wasn’t sure he knew how he ought to feel about. It reminded him of her moment with Zoro. A simple call of her name and yet–

Something too far for him to ever grasp. Something that shouldn’t be touched. Something he couldn’t touch.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, brat,” Hoku grinned at Shanks, holding a silver flower up. Shanks blinked in realization. “Thanks for the flowers.”

Turning to Mihawk she added over her shoulder, “Rest up. See you again, Mihawk.”

She beamed at the two of them and promptly set off, never once looking back as she followed the continued calls of her name, hurrying maybe just a bit.

…

…

…

“Alright, spill it you sly dog. What did you do and what did you say to get her to treat you like that?” Shanks nearly pulled tufts of red out. “You were in her lap! Her lap, you dog! And that face–do you understand how cute she is?”

Mihawk stared at him as one would a bug.

“Who are you?”

- they’ll all meet again

[marshmallowprotection]

This isn't related to cats XD sorry everyone, but can I request the RFA and being with a short MC? - 4'10 anon 💕

I’m on the short spectrum but I’m not the shortest average sized person you could meet. I’m about 5′4 so I pretty much stand at Jaehee’s height, if not a little taller then she is if I remember their canonical heights right. 

Yoosung Kim

° “Y/N…?” 

° “Uhuh! It’s me!” 

° He didn’t expect you to be much shorter than him because most girls are about his height… and they always seem to want guys much taller than he is. Boy, is he relieved.  

° It’s actually kind of a relief to him that you’re short because he feels pretty insecure about his height when you first meet him. He’s not all that tall like some of the other guys that he knows, and he feels like that might be part of the reason why he doesn't have any luck with anyone. It’s definitely more complex than that but yeah, this is one of his irrational thoughts. 

° When you meet, he’s filled with all kinds of emotions but like he’s quietly happy that you can fit into his arms when he hugs you. 

° People might assume that both of you are kids just because of your height, more you than him, but don’t worry, he’ll hold your hand and tell you to pay no mind to anyone. 

° His favorite thing to do is hug you. He loves the way your head tucks just underneath his chin. 

Hyun Ryu

° Who is this middle schooler and why does she know where I live is this one of my fans do I give her autograph and then call her parents what do I do here?

° There’s a knock at his door so he goes to answer it. He’s expecting you to come over so hey, this must be his MC. He opens the door and sees nobody but hears somebody say his name. “Hello?”

° “Hi Zen!” 

° “I’m happy to see you, Jagiya.” He’s trying to keep his composure but he really did not think you would be this cute. 

° You just beam with enthusiasm. "Me too!”

° It is you. Oh my God, you’re a lot shorter than he expected and it’s in such a cute way. It will probably be easy to lose you in a crowd on a busy day in the city, but gosh, if he isn’t ecstatic to think about how easy it would be to pick you up and smother you in kisses. 

°   It’s really not all that different for him if his MC is tall or short. He just thinks you’re cute… adorable even. It makes him bring out those protective urges even stronger than usual. He’ll be your knight in a heartbeat. Nobody better mess with his MC. 

° He just loves the way he can scoop you up with ease. He works out. He can do it. Don’t judge him. 

Jaehee Kang

° “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” 

°  “I’m so happy to see you too, Jahee.” 

°  It really doesn’t strike Jaehee at first that you’re significantly shorter than she is. It’s likely because the first time that she met you she was just so happy that you had become her friend, and she wanted more than anything to be close to you for staying at her side like you had. 

°   She does think it’s charming and rather respectable that you don’t really need anyone’s help to get anything. You just do it. Especially when the two of you start working together in the Cafe. You lean, you jump, you bounce from step to step to get things that seem far out of your own reach without even trying. 

° Jaehee is just like. “Wow.” 

° Her favorite thing with you is the fact that she can hold a conversation with you without having to look up at someone. She doesn’t have to strain her body to speak with you about anything. Because a lot of your relationship is built on talking and being honest. 

° It’s also sweet when you lean up on your tiptoes to get a kiss. 

Jumin Han

° “Jumin, hello!” 

° “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N... I’m...” 

° You’re standing there in front of him and it appears as though he’s really misjudged this mental image. 

° I don’t know if Jumin knew what to expect. When he spoke to you online he really didn’t have a mental image of you except for the small descriptions that you had given to him over the phone. It’s definitely not what he expected and it’s almost laughable given the difference between you two. Because he’s a pretty tall guy. His instinctual reaction isn’t as bad as the one that Zen had as I mentioned but it’s probably close. 

° That urge of his to protect you from the dangers out there is pretty strong, though. That’s going to be even stronger then it seemed to be when you think about how his route is. He might think that he can keep you from gettting into danger because you’re so small but you don’t let it be that way. 

° His favorite thing is when you crawl on top of him. It doesn’t matter if he’s laying down or he’s sitting down. It’s just that feeling of having your body splayed against his that really gets him going. 

° It’s going to be difficult to get a good kiss when you’re both standing up. No heels are going to fix that gap. 

Saeyoung Choi

° “How’s the weather down there, Y/N?” 

° “Haha. Like I haven’t heard that one before in my life. I’ve heard every single joke before and I won’t hesitate to smack you with a pillow S-A-E-Y-O-U-N-G. I have no fear!  Do you know why short people are always so bitter and angry about everything? Because we’re closer to hell.”

° Seriously though, I have to inform you that Seven is going to be the worst of all of the RFA to tease you about your height even if it’s something that you’re a little touchy about. (I.E. Please don’t tell me you’re like Edward Elric, but if that’s the level of petty that you are about your height, I respect you.) 

° He’s not going to get into it when he first meets you. Because he’s so caught up in everything but the fact that you’re so little and small he wants to keep you safe and away from danger at all costs. Boy... is he dumb when it comes to that too, he just doesn’t realize that until later on. He should have known that you’re a capable person. It doesn’t matter how tall you are. 

° He’s kind of like Zen though when it comes to what makes him the happiest about you. He likes that you can lift you up a bit and give it a twirl. He’s bad about that. 

° He thinks it’s romantic. You don’t have to humor him though. 

° Seven is also really good about leaning down and stealing kisses without warning.