This one was quite a surprise when I read the prompt, but I like it.

Prompt: belladonna is in the blue mountains and met frerin who fell in luv with her. he follows her to the shire and makes a version of bag-end where they live and have bilbo later.

Paring: Belladonna Took/Frerin

Rating: T

The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

"What it is?"

"I dun kno' its gots elf ears."

"Is it alive?"

"Look Amad! It's moving!"

Pain filled her senses as she was poked and prodded by unknown people, and her poor body was just battered. Her black hair was muddy and filled with twigs as well as the stray orc ear. The rest of her fared no better it seemed, by the way her broken arm looked as well as the infection that set in a slash on her right side, it seemed that she was lucky to be alive.

Luck indeed! To have the rudest people find her and instead of doing the sensible thing and helping her all they did was question her ears! Saying she looked like a breed of dwarf and elf was most rude, and the insults to her perfect feet hair had her bristling on the inside. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her at all, well in her opinion that was. She just refused to allow their bullying to go on any longer, there was no stopping a Took when you insult their feet hair.

She was not some Grubb or Proudfoot that would just take these insults with a grain of salt, oh no! She was the first daughter of Gerontius Took and Adamanta Chubb, the ninth in line for the position of Thain of the Shire. She was the one who traveled to the lands beyond the Shire with Gandalf the Grey of all people as her guide. By Yavanna, she was Belladonna Took and she was not going to let them talk willy-nilly about her!

The last straw was when one of the people began to pull on her ears and she completely snapped. Belladonna opened her weary hazel eyes and used all her strength to deck the most handsome man she had ever seen in the face. The nose to be specific and was victorious when she heard his nose snap under her fist, "Please don't touch my ears!" Laughter was the last thing she had been expecting, it truly was. Lo and behold there was laughter in the destroyed campsite that Belladonna made that evening.

"Tha lassie gottcha good Frerin!"

"Uncle?"

Belladonna put everything she had into that punch and now lay on her left side with her wild black curls covering her face. Her breathing began to get labored and the laughter around her grew silent when they saw how bad the hobbit was. The blonde man she punched pushed himself to his feet and nodded to another person with a weird beard that was braided with white on one side of the braid on graying black on the other. She was alarmed by the ax that was embedded in his forehead but the way he held her, as if she was a precious treasure, made Belladonna rethink her initial opinion of him.

Just where had it all go wrong again?

Ah, yes. Belladonna remembered now, where this entire adventure went so horribly. Why had she bothered to act as a messenger for Gandalf? To travel leagues upon leagues with her wits and some letters. To leave the comfort of Rivendell so letters can be delivered to the dwarves of the Blue Mountains, while he left for the sanctuary of Lothlorien. To get these damned letters to the most secretive race in Middle Earth. She regretted every moment that followed her acceptance of the task handed to her.

Belladonna regretted letting that damned wizard talk her into traversing hundred of leagues to deliver some damn letters.

She regretted not taking getting a waxed traveling coat from the elves, to protect herself from rain.

She regretted making a campfire that would attract an orc pack.

She regretted not wearing her iron chain mail that Gandalf made her take with her.

There was a lot that Belladonna Took regretted not doing, and she was sure that her rescuers realized that when they stumbled upon her decimated campsite. Her small elven blade was stuck in a corpse and blood was shed all over the place, it wasn't hard to see that there was a struggle. So why in the world were those people taking so long to help?

The man that picked her up was gentle enough she supposed, and the others were mulling over her possessions. Picking up the pieces of what was her campsite and retrieving the sword that she left in a warg. The small pitter-patter of a child was behind her but she couldn't turn her head to see it, only because such an action would cause herself more pain. Someone touched the sole of her foot and she kicked them out of reflex; her body was pulsating with agony as she did that. It probably wasn't the best thing to do but it was a natural reaction of hers.

"Again wiff da nose!" she assumed that she kicked the man, who had been at the receiving end of her punch, again in the nose. Frerin? That was what another had called him right? So Frerin he was, and he shall be until she was sure of his name. The person who was holding her spoke in a deep, guttural language that she could not comprehend and Frerin responded in that same language. Albeit his part of the conversation was held back a bit due to the slur his voice had taken on, you know after being repeatedly hurt.

"I can 'elp dat she 'as big fee!"

If she thought that the insults to her ears were bad enough, here he was bad mouthing her feet right in front of her no less! These people couldn't get any ruder could they?!

"Fili, leave her undergarments and clothes alone!"

They could, they really could.

All she wanted was to take a real bath and sit down to tea with Lord Elrond, who was the most gracious of hosts, and his daughter. To be able to walk the entire length of Rivendell's lovely garden, or maybe partake in dinner with the elves. But no, she could not enjoy these luxuries since she was in THE BLUE FUCKING MOUNTAINS AND IS CURRENTLY FAR AWAY FROM ANY OF THESE WANTS BECAUSE IT WAS TOO MUCH TO EVEN HOPE FOR!

Calm, there was no need for that. None at all.

She was a hobbit lass of the Shire though and had enough manners not to say this out loud, but she was seething as pain engulfed her body in its cruel hands. All she really wanted- no needed at this point was rest. Yes, if she could rest she would be fine and then she would be able to make the trip back to Rivendell and then later get escorted back to Tookborough. Where her mother and father were no doubt waiting anxiously for their daughter's safe return home.

On a downside, things wouldn't be the same when she got back home.

Who would want a damaged good such as herself? A lass who held the scars of battle and proved herself among the same warriors that stood against the filth known as Orcs. No self respecting Hobbit lad would want such a thing. Not even Bungo would look at her the same, for she had too many flaws that even he couldn't disagree with. Yavanna knows his mother, the completely respectable Laura Baggins nee Grubb would even allow her anywhere near her precious son.

Belladonna slipped into the embrace that was known as sleep, no matter how restless it was, and the group that found her had began their way back. To their village. To the place she was supposed to travel to in the first place, Ered Luin. The last refuge for the Dwarves of Erebor, and little did she know Belladonna had assaulted a prince.

The Golden Prince, to be exact.

Prince Frerin of an Exiled People was now hopelessly in love with the lass that broke his nose.

.

.

.

Twice.

~.~.~.

There was no way to possibly explain the fact that his brother, the leader of the patrol, had come back to Ered Luin with a hobbit and a broken nose. He refused to believe that he had allowed his nephew, who was not of age may he add, on this same patrol that went wrong very quick. His sister carrying the pack of the hobbit that they found as if she was a servant, and the rest of the party of six had come back five days after they were due to return.

Needless to say Thorin Oakenshield was not having a good day.

Having to watch his youngest nephew was a joy for the most part, until he started to miss his mother and brother more than Thorin thought possible. The dwarfling was only thirty for Mahal's sake, and yet he was just as bossy as Dwalin when he wanted to be. "I wan' Amad!" the brunette cried out on the second day the patrol had left.

"She'll be home tomorrow, as will Fili and Uncle Frerin."

"I WAN' AMAD!"

"Kili she'll be here tomorrow, so please eat your oats!"

That was seven days ago, and Kili's attitude was declining as the hours passed. Nine days was the amount of time he was watching over Kili, nine damned days filled with crying and screaming. Sure there were moments in the first day that had been easy for Thorin to handle, but the days following had been hell for the two dwarrows. Complete and utter hell, and the worst thing was that in those nine days no paperwork had been done. Not even Balin could help the exiled king get caught up on his work since the elder dwarf had his own share of work to fill out.

So when Frerin came home Thorin was pissed, how can such a short patrol get such a long delay!

"Where have you been?!" he practically seethed in anger as he rounded on his brother in the healers' tents. The blonde was in the middle of getting his nose re-broken and set properly, while Dis was getting her arm bandaged. The ever present weight on Thorin's shoulders that was Kili had scurried off to his mother, happy that she had returned.

Frerin, who had the audacity to look abashed, was rubbing the back of his head nervously as Thorin stalked near him. "Well, uh, you see. We, uh, got delayed by a storm. It was, uh, followed by many different packs of orcs," he explained, hoping that Thorin would take pity on Dis and him.

"Then how does that explain that," he said while pointing to Belladonna. Dis merely threw a grey bag at her brother, to busy looking over Kili to see if he caught it or not. Inside the bag was letters, addressed to him, Balin, members of the court in Ered Luin and many more prominent dwarves; the hobbit must have been some kind of messenger. So how did it end up here? "Frerin," he growled out at his younger brother fiddled with his braids, as he did when he was nervous.

"Yes, well. It seemed that she gained the attention of the uh, aforementioned packs. You know the rest," he said as he looked to the sleeping hobbit. Oin was taking care of her well, avoiding her feet and ears much to Thorin's confusion. Noticing the way Thorin observed the hobbit's particular treatment Frerin stepped in with an explanation, "She has a tendency to kick and punch, as well as break noses when someone touches her feet and ears."

"I assume you were the idiot who did."

"You assume many things Thorin," he pouted at the elder of the two.

"So I am right."

"You're not wrong."

The raven headed dwarf only shook his head at his brother and exited the tent as Oin looked over the woman, behind him was Frerin as he made his way for their home. Unlike many dwarven settlements those of the Blue Mountains lived in houses above ground, in houses of wood and not carved stone. Just the like the race of men who destroyed entire forests just to make a small wooden town that could burn down at any moment. This is where dwarves see fault in the race, for stone can't be set ablaze and if it could it wouldn't be easy.

Yes, the dwarves of Ered Luin took risks living in these above ground houses, even more that they were made of wood; but this was home. It would never compare to living under a mountain like they had in Erebor, but it was better than nothing. The home the royal family lived in was slightly better than the other houses in the town, a weird two story as the carpenters said with a nice stone basement.

Fili and Kili had their rooms in the top story, where they could wake and see the sun rising in the east while Dis, Frerin, and himself slept in the basement. As close as they could get to living underground while they used the ground level floor for their daily life. A dining room that was used everyday as well as a kitchen with a living room that doubled as a family place as well as a place of learning. The boys never did like it when Balin would drag out their desks and chairs before making them sit down to have some Khuzdul grammar lessons.

This would never be home for Thrain's children but it was home for Dis' boys.

It was on the living room where Thorin sat in his favorite rocking chair while Frerin sat on the small couch Bifur made for them. "Report please," he ordered, no longer Frerin's brother but the King-In-Exile. Frerin seemed to recognize this as his posture straightened and he no longer played the part of a younger brother but a Captain of a Squad.

"After setting out from Home we split into two groups, Fili and Dwalin with me. Dis, Gloin, and Bifur were under Dis' leadership. Scouting out the region did take the allotted two days and for the third day it began to rain. Dis didn't want to risk Fili's health after we got back together and we waited out the rain for six days. Then on the seventh day after the rain started it let up to the point where we could leave the little cave Bifur found and came across an orc pack. It lead us straight to a small campsite where this little hobbit woman killed three wargs and five orcs before she was overwhelmed. She, uh, broke my nose in two different places and we couldn't get it fixed until we saw Oin. He then re-broke it and you know the rest," he said as his posture began to slouch slightly.

"Must you be sassy when you give reports Frerin?"

"Must you have that stick shoved up your-"

"Frerin!"

The blonde only laughed at him, his aforementioned posture become completely atrocious and Thorin could only sigh in exasperation. He was related to someone with the manners of an orc, and if anything he was lucky that Dis wasn't as bad as Frerin. She was better at mannerism and that reflected in her oldest son more than her youngest, but on the down side she was absolutely terrifying when she wanted to be.

Good thing Thorin didn't plan to get on her bad side.

Frerin on the other hand, just didn't give a single fuck.

He would gladly piss off the spitfire known as their sister, but he was a great Uncle to Fili and Kili so those two qualities balanced out.

"You're a smart ass," he said while rubbing his head. Trying to stop the oncoming headache from happening, but it was never so with Frerin.

"You love me anyway!"

"Just keep telling you're self that."

A laugh bubbled up from Frerin and Thorin couldn't help but to laugh along, he was that kind of guy; he truly was. Thorin stopped when he heard the front door open and slam shut behind the people who came in. The sound of pounding feet let them know that Fili and Kili were back and the much heavier footsteps followed by grunts was not something they normally heard. When Dis came in with an injured hobbit on her back Thorin and Frerin jumped up to help her but the dwarrowdam only shook her head.

"Oin told me that I could take her home, since I had the space. And that Frerin gets to take care of her," the mother informed as she lay the hobbit on the couch Frerin once occupied.

"Why do I have to take care of her?"

"She seems to like you, by the way she constantly attacks you."

"So that means?"

Dis rubbed her short beard as a wicked smile stretched across her face, "It means dear brother, your nose will not be the only thing broken before too long."

Frerin was afraid that his two siblings were grinning evilly at him, and what the future holds for him.

Mahal have mercy on his soul.

~.~.~.

Days had passed since Frerin was forced to take on the task of watching over Belladonna, and he found out shortly after she woke the first time that she had a thing for hurting him. Gave him a black eye when she awoke to the sight of his peering at her face from above and Dis and Thorin snickered as the hobbit became flustered at her actions.

"I'm sorry! You startled me!"

He could only admire her strength as he sat on the floor with a hand over his right eye, the other in awe at the sight before him. A small hobbit lass, beautiful in his opinion, hovering over him in worry and it seemed in that moment that she was one of the Valar. Kind yet fierce, sweet but sour, a dream dressed as a nightmare. All he could think in that moment was beautiful.

Dis tried to hid her laughter at the sight of Frerin being completely love-stricken, she really did but the raven haired woman just burst into laughter completely. Her normally stoic facade melting as she caught the faintest hints at a blush above his blonde beard. "I like her," she giggled out as Kili and Fili held onto their mother's skirts.

"Can we keep her Amad?" Fili asked. His childlike fuzz on his chin and cheeks emphasizing his cuteness and Kili just used his puppy dog eyes on her.

"She is not an object we can keep son."

"Why not?"

Dis only smiled and kissed one of his furred cheeks, "Because she has an Amad to go home to. She has a family my little jewel."

When Frerin got to his feet he knew that the hobbit had dug a little mine shaft into his heart and he didn't even know her name yet! The black haired woman was now leaning against the couch, sweat dripping down her face as she apologized profusely. This was only the first day of many, and the days following the first meeting Frerin knew that he could want no one else.

She was a lot like him: impulsive, fun, but fiery. There was no mistaking it, she was the one to hit first and ask questions later.

Frerin knew that Belladonna Took was his one and he would follow her to the ends of Arda if she asked.

After Oin had pronounced Belladonna healthy after weeks upon weeks of healing, and armed with responses from the people whom Gandalf had sent letters to and her little elvish sword she set off from Ered Luin. Thanking the royal family for taking her in and helping her get back to her feet, which they all learned not to ask about or touch, and after a tearful goodbye from Fili and Kili she left. The royal dwarves of Erebor waved at her retreating figure as she walked out of the village on the worn, dirt road.

When Dis and Thorin lead Fili and Kili back inside their house it was little Kili who was clinging onto Fili's sleeve who noticed something different, "Amad?"

"Yes little raven?"

"Where is Uncle Frerin?"

Said Uncle Frerin was currently running with his axe strapped firmly to his back over his large pack down the same dirt road Belladonna just left on. His blonde braids jingled in the wind as the silver beads hit another bead, but there was no stopping him. He was going to catch up with the little hobbit that stole his heart. There was no way that he was going to let his One just walk out of his life that easily, and with his mind set Frerin ran.

It took him a good hour to catch up with the hobbit, who was singing a lovely tune as she walked without a care in the world. His words stolen from him when the first thing she did when he burst into the path she walked was punch him in his left eye, giving him a good shiner. "What's with you and hurting me!?" he cried out as he held his face.

"Stop scaring me!"

"I didn't mean to!"

She sighed as he let his hands fall away from his face and the area around his eye was already swelling; Belladonna cringed was she saw the red skin. Her dainty hand brushed his face tenderly as she prodded the area slightly, "Sorry Frerin." He only shook his head at her and grinned his award winning mithril smile at her and she giggled at how stupid he looked. That thousand sun smile with the growing black hole that was the black eye contradicted each other greatly.

"Where are you going anyway?" she asked as he began to walk beside her.

"I don't really know, just following you."

"But I'm going home, back to the Shire after I deliver these letters to Lord Elrond," she said as she patted the messenger bag on her hip.

"You're going to go see the elves?" he asked with a frown on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with the elves, they are rather hospitable."

He nodded but wasn't so sure about that, the tree-shaggers were rather... strict. By strict he meant 'stick-up-the-ass' strict, since the last time he went to Rivendell he may or may not have played Toss-The-Really-Expensive-Vase and may or may not have broken said vase. Well he did have all the time to woo Belladonna and he even brought the marriage beads that he made when he was young and lived in Erebor. Made for the woman he was destined to marry and here she was, right next to him and it was maddening that he couldn't braid them into her beautiful black curls.

Who knows where they would be by the end of this little adventure.

Only Mahal did.

~.~.~.

"You want what, Master Dwarf?"

"I want you daughter's hand in marriage."

The entirety of Belladonna's clan was silent, which was unusual for the Tooks, but they had a good reason for their silence. When Belladonna came back all of her Took family went to Great Smials to welcome her back they did that. And they also meet the dwarf she brought back as a souvenir, the dwarf that wanted her hand in marriage. The same dwarf that had gotten approval from Gandalf the Grey and intimidated the life out of the hobbits in the Shire with his axe and scars.

"What makes you think you're good enough for my daughter?"

"I can make her anything with my bare hands, I will follow her to the ends of the earth. I would give up the chance to be a King, to be one of Durin's sons for her. Good man, I would do anything for her," he said with a fist firmly over his heart.

"If you don't do these things what then?"

"I would shave myself bald, from head to toe."

The Thain of the Shire and Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror stood there staring the other down as Belladonna sighed and walked past the two. Her head shaking as her mother and female relatives whisked her away, checking her for injuries. The war beaten dwarf and the aged hobbit, head to head and toe to toe.

When Gerontius raised his hand and some of his many children began to circle Frerin, he put a hand on the hilt of his axe. Ready for anything. Except for the sudden hug that he was engulfed in, but it broke the ice and he gladly returned it. A few headbutts to the ones brave enough to headbutt a dwarf and a few handshakes here and there. "Let us dine! It is time for supper anyhow," the Thain announced as the Tooks lead Frerin into the massive hobbit holes.

The night went by in a flurry and there was much to be had. Food was brought out in waves and there was enough in one wave to feed an entire army of dwarves, and that was saying something. Next was the beer and ales, by Mahal was there enough alcohol to get a dragon drunk! Then it got crazy when Belladonna and her cousin Adalgrim got on the table and started to sing.

"Oh, you can search far and wide

You can drink the whole town dry!" Frerin watched mystified as the two interlinked arms and began kicking their feet back and forth. Dancing a wild dance with their bare feet on the table, a mug of beer in their hands.

"But you'll never find a beer so brown,

Oh you'll never find a beer so brown,

As the one we drink in our home town,

As the one we drink in our home town!" he burst into laughter when Belladonna kicked a mug of the table and onto her brother Isengrim's face.

"You can keep your fancy ales!

You can drink 'em by the flagon!

But the only brew for the brave and true-" Belladonna let go of Adalgrim's arm and skipped down the large table and looked at Frerin's blue eyes.

"Bella!" her cousin called out, breaking the lass from her stupor.

"But the only brew for the brave and true," she sang loudly, stomping her feet to the beat her family made. Frerin clapped along with the rest of them happily as she and Adalgrim met in the middle of the table. "Comes from the Green Dragon!" they finished by toasting their mugs and chugging down the beer.

"Thank you! I win!" Belladonna said as her father helped her off the table.

That was the first night of many, for the night after Frerin was pulled to the side by Gerontius and was told very firmly that he still had to give him a task before he could allow him to court his daughter. "Only the best for my daughter Master Dwarf," he said very seriously. To which Frerin nodded and began to wonder; just what was he going to make?

"A smial? What is that?"

Gerontius laughed at the question before he saw that the dwarf was serious; the blonde really was stumped at what a smial was. "It is a hobbit hole, and to ensure you're seriousness I want you to make a home for her. A place that her children can grow in," he said as he lead Frerin through his own Hobbit hole. "This one was inherited but many times fathers had made suitors make homes to see if they are serious. You, master dwarf, have twp months."

Two months seemed like a long time when he said it, but while constructing the best smial he could. Frerin made a schedule that he was to follow and there was no one to help him with his task. None in a village called Hobbiton liked him well enough to extend their help, none but a person who liked to be called Gaffer. The hobbit was nice enough and helped Frerin plan where to put the new smial but that was all he was allowed to do for Frerin must construct the hole all on his own.

It was a big hill that overlooked much of Hobbiton and that was where he made their home, and he worked night and day. Digging out the space and more than once causing the dirt above to fall on him; then he lay wood board after board. Brick after brick, made a pathway to the front law and to the main road, hell he even made all the furniture that went in. Bed after bed, chair after chair, table after table, shelf after shelf; you name it he made it.

The smial was a grand hobbit hole that had seven bedrooms, three bathrooms, a sitting room, a living room, a great room*, a dining room, an office, two pantries, a basement, a little library, a nursery near the master bedroom, a laundry room, and last but not least a kitchen. He spent most of his time on the kitchen, taking extra care to make it spacious with an island in the middle that had two stools at it. For little tea times alone, he thought to himself.

It was the envy of Hobbiton and Frerin went a step farther to make the kitchenware himself in a forge and made their marriage bed out of the best materials he could find and afford. He sold his golden arm braces to get all the money to make such a home, and it was worth it. Two months of working was worth it by the look on Gerontius' face when he inspected the home.

"You've done well my lad, you really have," he said awestruck as he fingered the dwarven symbols on the round door to the home. "What does it say?" he asked as the runes were foreign to him.

"It means Durin's Halls," he puffed up proudly as the Thain looked at every room.

"You did all this? By yourself?"

"Don't underestimate dwarves."

The Thain looked at the nursery that Frerin made with the utmost care, "You've earned the right to have her hand. You've earned it since Bella told me of how you protected her during your travels." He hugged the blonde dwarf and gave him a headbutt, something he found that spoke more than words when it came to dwarves. While rubbing his forehead he smiled at Frerin, "Welcome to the family."

On their wedding day the Thain had planned the best wedding underneath the Party Tree, where he swore he had never seen a more beautiful woman. Since Frerin had made their home in Hobbiton he was forced to invite the Baggins clan and the Sacksville-Baggins. Dreadful people if you asked Frerin, who claimed that Durin's Halls belong to them since he built his smial so close to the Sacksville-Baggins smial and they were forced to live with such dreadful noise for the last two months. Frerin came near to beheading an Camelia when she had proclaimed that such filth should not even live with respectable hobbits and as such the 'filth' must release the land he had purchased. As well as his smial built just for Belladonna.

"I HAVE SOLD MY FAMILY ARMBANDS JUST TO MAKE THIS HOBBIT HOLE FOR HER! WHO ARE YOU TO PUT CLAIM ON MY LAND?!" there was no way he was letting such people destroy all his hard work. For the better part of a year he had wooed, fought, and built for Belladonna; he was not going to let some usurper take all he worked for.

"There shall be none of the on such a joyous day!" the Thain cried out. His anger at the horrid woman for saying such things was noticed, but she wasn't done yet.

"No Took shall tell me what to do! I am a Bagg-" she was stopped by the sharp blade of an axe to her throat.

"You dare challenge me and mine?" Frerin growled out.

That was how the day started for it took all the Tooks had to get Frerin calm enough for the wedding to take place; though he wasn't fond of the reception that followed. Having to dance with every other married woman while Belladonna danced with the other married men, but their wedding night drowned out all the disgust Frerin had after dancing barefoot with Camelia.

That night he gave the Sacksville-Baggins a real reason to make a noise complaint.

Nine weeks later he was worried as he held back Belladonna's hair as she puked into their toilet, even more worried when he found she went to the healers in Tookborough. Though nothing could shake the happiness off his face when he learned he was to be a father, oh he sent ranger after ranger to the Blue Mountains. Inviting his brother and sister along with his nephews to meet his firstborn son, born the 22nd of September in the year 1290 by Shire Reckoning.

Christened Bilbo, son of Frerin, son of Thrain; the third in line for the Throne of Erebor. A little dwobbit born of love.

Belladonna regretted many things in her past adventures with Gandalf, but choosing to deliver those letters to the Blue Mountains will never be one of them.

"Tell me, 'ow you meet Adad," her little son asked on his fifth birthday.

"Well my lad, I met your father near the Blue Mountains. Instead of properly greeting him, the first thing I ever did to your father was break his nose."

Bilbo giggled and hid his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle the giggle; the mother only patted his blonde hair.

"But my little son, I did more than that. I broke his nose," she said dramatically as Frerin watched from the doorway to the nursery.

"Twice."

YAY! Dwobbit Bilbo is so cute! I hope you all like the one-shot guys!

Ragehappy Mavin Fan