#i think the demons r winning

[girlnikolai]

he makes me physically ill with his existence in the best way possible

[lokh]

hehehe did u know you can draw anything at all <3 so i drew my two favorite characters. together LMAO love wins

[junkie-virus]

ough i love friends i love my friends like theyre so cool theyre just cool people & we talk. bc we enjoy talking to one another . & they have so much taste & r so silly & i love them & i love friendship

[elizaleclerc]

OMG PART TWO TO 'i dont know you at all' PLEASEEE <33

here to serve the ppl !

i don’t know you at all 🤍 (part two)

lando norris x reader

read part one here <3

summary: lando heals from bad habits as the racing season gets underway (warning for alcoholism)

song: drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

author’s note: wanted this part to be a little angsty still but mostly sweet too <3 (prob won't do a part 3) also hit 50 followers so yay me!!

word count: 2k

The exhilarating racing season was once again in full swing, providing a much-needed break from Lando's reckless behavior and destructive habits. After his violent outburst where he drunkenly hurled a glass at your head, he had promised to change his ways. And true to his word, he stopped going to wild parties and completely gave up drinking. The apartment was once again filled with a sense of peace, and you found yourself back in the comforting routine of sleeping beside him each night. He seemed like the same old Lando that you had always loved, but you couldn't help but feel that deep down, he still struggled with his inner demons of addiction.

As the racing season continued, Lando was once again fully immersed in his career. Every weekend, he was out on the track, pushing himself and his car to the limit. You loved watching him race, feeling a sense of pride and admiration as he effortlessly weaved through the other cars. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry about him.

You knew that once he got back into the cockpit of a race car, he had no choice but to be sober. You couldn't drink every night and still be healthy enough to be a Formula One driver. And while you were glad that racing forced him to stay away from alcohol, you also feared that once the season ended, he would fall back into his old habits.

But for now, you tried not to think about it and simply enjoyed seeing a glimpse of his normal self again. Surrounded by his friends in the paddock, Lando's infectious smile and carefree attitude returned as he joked around with his teammates and rivals. His world had become solely you and racing again, and it was a relief to see him find joy in those two things.

As Lando sat in his driver's room, getting dressed and mentally preparing for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and pride. This was the second season that you were accompanying him in the McLaren paddock. And just like before, the team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

You sat on Lando's small plush bed as he finished getting dressed, admiring his neon helmet that sat on the table next to you. The bright colors and design always caught your eye, and it was a symbol of his identity as a racer.

“How are you feeling about today?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He turned around to face you, a small grin on his face. “Not too bad,” he replied. “The car felt good in practice and Quali, it's got the pace to win.” You nodded, knowing how important it was for Lando to have confidence in both himself and his car. He had been working tirelessly with his engineers to fine-tune every aspect of the car for this race.

“I'm sure you'll do great,” you reassured him with a smile.

Lando's face lit up with a wide, toothy grin upon hearing your words. “I hope so,” he replied, leaning in to give you a quick, tender kiss. Your hand instinctively cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion and desire. As you stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you as the kisses became more heated. In these moments, all the harsh memories of post-party arguments and unwanted touches faded away. All that mattered was being enveloped in Lando's embrace, lost in each other's lips.

As his lips pressed against your neck, your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate quickened. "I love you," you whispered into his ear, feeling his soft kisses and love bites in return.

His smile was evident even through the passionate exchange of kisses. "You know you mean everything to me," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"I know, my love," you grinned, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He had told you countless times that he raced not only to win but to make you proud, and every time it made your heart swell with pride. You could see the positive changes he was making for the better, and it only strengthened your love for him.

As he headed out of his drivers room towards the starting grid, you followed close behind. The atmosphere in the paddock was buzzing with energy and anticipation as everyone prepared for what would surely be an exciting race.

You watched from the McLaren garage as he expertly maneuvered through each turn and overtook other cars on the track. It was clear that he had full control over his car and was pushing it to its limits. With only a few laps left in the race, Lando radioed into his team requesting updates on his position. He was currently in second place, but with the leader's increasing tire degradation, Lando was quickly approaching the opportunity to overtake him.

You gazed on in the paddock watching the last couple of laps unfold. Tensions were rising, and on the second to last lap, Lando finally overtook his way into first place. You felt giddy with excitement, and before you knew it the checkered flag was waved.

This was the first win that Lando had earned while the two of you were in a relationship. You paced down to the podium celebration with the rest of the McLaren crew. Your heart was overjoyed as you bit your bottom lip in excitement.

With the roar of the engines still ringing in his ears, Lando emerged from his car, hastily pulling off his helmet and sprinting towards you and the rest of the team. He barely spared a glance for his colleagues before rushing towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Through the metal fence that separated you, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory forever. "I'm so proud of you," Your voice cracked with emotion as you held him close, fighting back tears. A mental image of Lando stumbling home from a wild party flashed through your mind, highlighting just how much things had changed in the past few months.

“I love you so so much,” His voice was cracking too, and as he pulled back you saw the faint glimpse of tears in his eyes. He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Embracing you one more time, he left to go up to the podium celebration.

As he ascended the podium, a triumphant smile lit up his face as he held up his gleaming trophy. He glanced down at you with adoration and blew a kiss in your direction. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, highlighting the lines of his chiseled body and the flush of exertion on his tanned skin. He cradled his first place trophy like a cherished treasure, his pride evident in the way he held it close to his chest. Your heart swelled with love and admiration as you watched him bask in the glory of his victory.

The weight of his past struggles and mental battles hung heavy in the air, unseen by the world around him. As he stood on that podium, basking in the love and admiration of those around him, you could only pray that he would hold onto this moment forever. He had endured so much pain and fought through it all with incredible resilience. This race win was a well-deserved triumph, a validation of his strength and determination a thousand times over.

~

As the excitement and chaos of the Grand Prix died down, you found yourself alone with him in his driver's room. The air was thick with tension, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, everyone expected him to go out and celebrate at the clubs in Miami as the race winner. But you knew he was struggling with a difficult decision - whether or not to join the party and risk breaking his sobriety.

"Do you want me to come with you?" You offered, torn between wanting to support him and wanting to retreat to your hotel room for an early night.

As he sat next to you, head low as he muttered “Maybe,” you couldn't help but feel torn. You wanted him to enjoy his victory and let loose, but at the same time, you understood his fear. Your hand intertwined with his, offering support and reassurance.

But as a tear fell from his eye, your heart ached. He sniffed, "I just don't want to put myself in a position where I could hurt anyone." You knew what was going through his mind - the night in his apartment, the pain he had caused you. It was a wake-up call for him, one that he hated but needed. His fear of hurting someone again consumed him, even though he had promised to change.

“It’s okay, I know how hard you’ve worked to change.” You knew your words could only do so much to make him feel better, but you came to a compromise. You would come with him to the club, making sure that he didn’t do anything drastic.

~

As the night wore on, you could see Lando slowly becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the club setting. He mingled with other drivers and even took a few shots of water when they were offered to him. You were proud of how well he was doing and made sure to let him know it. You leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at you, “Thank you for being here with me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The two of you danced and laughed together, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere of the club. At one point, Max came over to congratulate Lando on his win and the two of them shared a friendly hug. It was a nice moment that reminded you that even though they were fierce competitors on the track, they were all still friends off it.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, Lando's infectious laughter filled the air as he walked arm in arm with you back to your hotel room. His warm embrace and the soft hum of a familiar song made you feel at ease and content. As you reached your room, he turned to face you with a genuine smile on his face.

"Tonight was magical," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug before leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The moment felt like it could last forever as the warmth of his body and the gentle touch of his lips stirred butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you for coming with me.”

You smiled back at him, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two of you continued kissing until eventually collapsing onto the bed in each other’s arms. You snuggled up against each other as sleep started to take over your exhausted bodies. The Lando you had once loved had finally come back to you. You knew realistically he didn’t need you there at the club to make sure he didn’t relapse, but you were more than willing to support him. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” You told him as your head rested on his chest.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, his words dripping with sincerity as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head. You were his everything, the reason for every waking breath and every beat of his heart. He would do anything to make you happy, to see that beautiful smile light up your face. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but envision the rest of his life with you by his side - growing old together, experiencing all of life's ups and downs together, and loving each other through it all.

[jistagrams]

who lasted the longest during nnn (no nut november) riize edition

bf!riize x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive, slight smut, pet names, soft dom! / hard!dom type shit for them all🤭🤭, eunseok calls u whore & slut, oral (both r receiving) , degradation if u squint, praising, fluff, lmk if I missed any

shotaro: 26 days

shotaro def tried to last longer than anyone in riize, only cus he has control and him being so busy with his schedule he didn’t have much time to see you or even get off by himself 😭, but once he saw you he literally went batshit crazy. like YOU in THAT outfit? he couldn’t take it anymore, had to have you right in that second.

“taro calm down..” you whined underneath him, “cant, fuck” one hand gripping onto your waist as the other rubbed your clit deliciously, throwing out compliments. “you take me so good you know that? shit, baby stop clenching, m’ gon-“ he moaned loudly as he came, falling down onto you. twitching slightly.

eunseok: 23 days

he was doing so good, keeping himself busy with his schedule like shotaro and hanging out with friends, shit he even made fun of his friends who lost during the first few weeks, he was excited to see you on thanksgiving since it’s been so long, thinking it would be a cute and adorable reunion. but oh was he so wrong. He didn’t expect to have his dick down your throat in his childhood room.

“such a fucking slut, just wants my dick in you at all times.” he grunted out as he held you down on it, gripping onto your hair with both hands to fuck your throat, tears fell down as he laughed slightly. “whore.” He grumbled while throwing his head back and letting go of your hair to let you do the rest of the work.

sungchan: 10 days

yeah, ten days, during those 10 days he was acting all cocky and laughing at his friends who lost before him, saying how they can’t keep it in their pants, meanwhile the whole time he was fighting DEMONS to keep his in his pants. kinda hard to when he lives with his wonderful partner, who just so happened to not be participating in nnn, (And who also didn’t want him to participate..)

“sungieeee~” you cooed while getting in his lap, he looked at you confused, “what’s up baby?” He held your hips almost immediately when you plopped down onto him, just great, just exactly what he needed. you started to grind on him softly, his eyes went wide as you placed your arms around his neck. “yn.. did you forget?” he sighed softly, the feeling was too good to stop you, “you don’t even win anything out of this” you whined quietly. he threw his head back, perfect to kiss his neck. “maybe I could lose just this once”

wonbin: 3 days

reason he only lasted 3 days was cause of you and the way you were acting, he was getting too cocky during October saying “oh ima win nnn for sure, bet u won’t even last a minute” and so on and so on, so you decided to test him, see if he could really pass nnn. It started off with small touches, small pecks that weren’t really small pecks instead they were long makeout sessions leaving him after touching him like you were deprived. This kept going till he couldn’t handle it anymore,

“think it’s cute to tease me?” he laughed softly as he slid two fingers in, setting a fast pace already. “bin, need you” you begged him as you held onto the hand that was between your thighs, he scoffs at your begging and goes faster than the original pace, “think im gonna reward you with my dick after all your teasing? your funny”

seunghan: 0 days

bro didn’t even get to start it, was already fucking on Halloween, definitely was the member in riize that was getting bullied for not even lasting a day.

“slow down fuck seung” you gasped, gripping onto his hair, “gon fuck you into the next day, yeah? you would like that wouldn’t you?” he laughed while putting your legs up to your chest, “your gunna fail nnn already” you let a breathy chuckle out whole pointing to clock next to the bed, “don’t care, at least I can do this everyday”

sohee: 4 days

idk I feel like he wouldn’t even try to participate, his sex drive isn’t just isn’t as crazy as most people, he could probably go like 5 days max without sex but you on the other hand? you always want him, any type of way. so obviously you were the one to break his “streak”

“your so needy baby” he cooed while kissing your face, holding your hand as he slid in, “can’t help it” you whined softly, tightening your grip on his hand. “your too handsome, makes me want you” he blushed and giggled at your word, he gets so geeked when you call him handsome <3

anton: 30 days

he took this sersiously guys, told you and himself that if he lost he was gonna leave riize. Said he didn’t wanna be teased for losing so he took the long measures to win, this means he literally avoided you like the bubonic plague. Oh you wanted to kiss him? Sure but nothing more than a peck, You wanted a hug? a small side hug will do, you were needy? Well…he could make some arrangements, can’t let his baby suffer like him <3

“you sure you don’t want anything in return?” you asked him, holding the hand in between your legs, softly rubbing his head with your other hand. “cant lose baby” he replied. “not even getting anything out of it” you mumbled, “uh yeah, satisfaction of winning” he spoke like it was obvious.

[absolutepokemontrash]

One of the strangest Obey Me takes I’ve ever seen was that Diavolo was a shit ruler who his people should hate- like bro- regardless of what anyone personally thinks about Dia, (whatever your opinion is, it’s valid because its yours) in the game itself, his people canonically love him. It’s explicitly stated in one of the earliest chats you can get.

Literally no one is pissed that his student council officers are fallen angels (in the original game, Nightbringer is a different story) because the brothers are almost EQUALLY as loved as Dia. IIRC Lucifer got second place in that RAD popularity contest in one of the first chats in the game, only losing to Diavolo.

And during season two, that other popularity contest that we help Asmo win, it was down to O N E vote between Asmo and Lucifer, meaning the student body must R E A L L Y like these fuckers.

AND JUST A REMINDER, in Obey Me! canon, MC is only threatened with being eaten in the FIRST LESSONS by random background demons. For the rest of their time at RAD, they’re totally fine, and in a chat between Barbatos(?) and Simeon I believe, Simeon comments on how the other demons at RAD have stopped trying to eat him after MC started whipping the brothers into shape, showing that at least most of the student body is chill by season two.

…also this is a dating otome game where we go on wacky adventures with a bunch of loveable dumbasses, why are some people looking at this from a realistic political standpoint-

(I don’t want to start fights or anything, once again, your opinion is your own, just putting mine out there lol)

[1-800-kami]

agnes, just stop and think a minute

gojo satoru x reader (1.2k)

" you're gone but you're on my mind, i'm lost but i don't know why. ,,

warnings: CHAPTER 236 SPOILERS, reader and shoko r going THRU it, i wrote this during a mental breakdown, denial, semi-comfort at the end

a/n: when i found out about what happened i just spent 2 hours on social media just. watching everything gojo related and i kind of wanted to reflect my reaction through this word vomit of a drabble. i haven't cried at all but i just feel so devastated and oh my god it's been terrible. rest in peace to my bb </3

based off of one of my favorite glass animals songs (agnes) that i've always associated with gojo.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

it’s a part of being a jujutsu sorcerer. each day, new people are trained to become one, and others die the same day. there are new beginnings, and people who meet their ends. you know sorcerers out there who have completely closed themselves off just so they don’t have to experience the soul crushing feeling of grief. 

it’s like a bud, they say. a bud that forcefully plants itself in your heart, and you can do nothing but watch it grow as it takes hold of every part of your being. people describe the feeling in many ways: a weight on top of your chest that won’t cease, or a part of your heart that’s been ripped away, and nothing in your life seems to fill the remnants of it. 

you’ve experienced grief in your life many times. loss is so normalized as a sorcerer that you’ve almost lost count at this point, but the ones that have hit you the hardest are the deaths of your closest friends: kento nanami, yu haibara, and geto suguru. they haunt your thoughts every day, up until the point where everything feels asphyxiating and you sometimes want to join your friends too.

you think that geto’s death hit you the hardest. 

you remember geto’s disappearance and the night parade of a hundred demons like it was yesterday. the hardest pill to swallow about his death was the fact that it could’ve been prevented. geto’s lifeless eyes made you see parallels from the weeks leading up to his disappearance. he just needed a push in the right direction, but then you couldn’t even do that and you didn’t see all the signs of his deteriorating mental health. you just felt so guilty, even though your friends assured you that it wasn’t your fault.

seeing geto’s body for the first time after 10 years made you wail uncontrollably–and you had to be forcefully pried off of him despite your screams of protest. the most prominent thing about his body were his lifeless eyes–and guilt coursed through your veins as you knew that they were probably devoid of life even before his death.

that guilt stuck with you for a long time, and you felt it until you thought that it would consume you whole.

that’s why shoko was hesitant to show you gojo’s body.

she knows that you would have an emotional outburst again, like last time. actually, she knew this one would be worse, because geto was a best friend to you, but satoru was the light of your life. he was your lover. your soulmate, even. the reason why you were excited to come home everyday. he grieved about geto with you, and you held each other when you both cried… usually when december 24th was nearing again. you think that, without satoru, you don’t know what you would do. you kept each other sane and grounded.

so you don’t understand.

why is his body in front of you right now? why are all your students crying around you and mourning gojo’s loss? it’s all the sorcerers are talking about right now, and you just don’t get it.

he’s the strongest, so why did he fucking leave you behind like this? no, no. he wasn’t supposed to lose that fight. he said it himself. he said he’d win, right? he’d win, and he’d come home, albeit injured, but home nonetheless. he’d celebrate his victory with you, and life would go on. so why did he lie?

that’s the only word coursing through your head. why?

you tried not to think about anything right now… like how there was probably so much crimson red on that battlefield. if you saw it, you’d think that the red would leave an everlasting stain in your mind, to the point where you’ll never forget about it. no matter how many times you’d wash your hands, all that red would still be there, and you hate to think about it.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

people describe the feeling in many ways, but if you had to describe how you felt right now, the only word you’d use is empty.

you feel so utterly empty and hollow, that you can’t even bring yourself to cry or scream.

shoko’s surprised at your reaction. when she told you what happened, you became eerily silent. your eyes and gojo’s were practically identical. both so devoid of life, that all she can bring herself to say is, “im sorry.”

what do you even say at a time like this? what do you say to someone who’s had their heart ripped apart again and again as they watch each of their friends die? for you and shoko, it’s happened four times now. four is too much. you can’t bring yourself to believe it anymore.

no. this isn’t real.

this isn’t happening right now.

you move for the first time in what seems like ages, and you place your hand in gojo’s open casket, tucking a stray pearl white strand behind his ear. you observe him for a minute. he looks so peaceful, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his infinity or constantly being on his guard anymore.

“shoko, i think he’s hungry.” you say, feeling the ice cold veins in your chest stilling.

your words catch shoko off guard. “huh?”

“he’s hungry,” you repeat simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you look away from his body and turn to leave. “i’m going to go buy kikufuku for him.” 

you suddenly remember all of the dates you’ve had with satoru, where you buy many sweets like kikufuku, but he always made sure to save you some. he’s known for his notorious sweet tooth—putting one too many sugar cubes in his drinks, but he’ll always share his sweets if it’s with you. even if it was kikufuku.

“it’s his favorite after all.”

you walk out of the funeral, leaving behind the confused and sympathetic looks of everyone there. shoko sighs at your reaction—she’ll let you go for now. everyone’s processing this in different ways, so she can’t blame you for how you’re dealing with satoru’s death. she’ll just hope you’ll learn to accept it soon.

on the way to get kikufuku, you spot a pet shop nearby. there’s a fish tank on display, and you notice that one of the tanks has a white betta fish inside. it’s the same shade as satoru’s hair, and you feel your feet moving on its own as you walk to the glass. you exhale with a shaky sob, placing a hand on it. i love you, satoru. i won’t say goodbye, though, cause i’ll be there eventually.

you make sure not to say “soon” because you knew that if you took your life with your own hands instead of letting fate choose your death, satoru would never let you hear the end of it. so you’ll keep living. you’ll keep living for yourself and satoru, even though you want to join them. every single day hurts and it also hurts to even breathe sometimes. though you know, somewhere out there, satoru and your friends are cheering you on with every step you take.

wait for me… okay?

the betta fish suddenly notices your presence, and swims up against the glass. so close, yet so far. you take that as satoru’s answer. it was like you could hear his voice directly speaking to you.

i’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

you smile for the first time today, even if it was barely a smile. you felt a familiar presence with you on the other side of that glass, even if it was just for a short moment, and it gave you what strength you had left to keep moving.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

do you think you could write something where ben/soldier boy is jealous of how butcher looks at reader and maybe add some smut so he makes her understand that she’s only his

Jealous

masterlist

pairing: soldier boy x female supe!reader (pyrokinesis - ability to control fire)

rating: R for language, smut

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language, horror movie discussion/spoilers (chucky/child’s play, halloween, it), ends with smut so 18+ only please (not like heavy smut only 231 words), the boys spoilers

timeline: set in an au after season 3

author’s note: thank you for the request, anon! i usually don’t write smut mainly cause i’m bad at it but i hope you like this fic <3

music: all i could think about was jealous by nick jonas while writing this so…

gif source

“Horror movies aren’t really scary! You’re just a fuckin’ wimp!” Butcher shook his head.

“Obviously not all horror movies are scary, but Annabelle is fucking terrifying!” You exclaimed.

“Annabelle scares you?” Ben laughed. “C’mon, sweetheart demonic dolls aren’t real! Demons aren’t even real!”

“Why can’t we just watch something else?” You asked. “If it’s killer dolls you want, let’s watch Child’s Play!”

“Yeah, I’m with Y/n on this one,” Hughie chipped in. “I vote we watch Chucky.”

“Thank you!” You smiled. “Either we watch Chucky or I won’t tell you guys where I keep the Jiffy Pop.”

“Fine, you win,” Butcher rolled his eyes. “Nice to know your weakness is possessed dolls though, now I know how to scare the shit outta you next Halloween.”

“If you bring an Annabelle doll anywhere near me I will burn it to ash before it touches me,” You laughed.

You stood up and made your way over to the kitchen. Butcher watched as you reached to grab the popcorn from an upper cabinet. He watched as your shirt rode up and he could see your lower back. He watched as you bent down to get something from a lower cabinet, and as you placed a large bowl on the table.

“Where’s the remote?” Hughie asked, seeing Ben eyeing Butcher like he wanted to strangle him.

“Should be in the top left drawer by the TV,” You called out from the kitchen. “Ben, could you show him?”

“It’s in there,” Ben grumbled, pointing to the drawer.

“Thanks,” Hughie replied quietly.

Butcher watched as you continued in the kitchen; biting your bottom lip a little as you pressed the buttons on the microwave after tossing in a bag of popcorn. Ben was slowly getting more and more angry.

He suddenly stood up and made his way over to you.

“Every-” Before you could finish he crashed his lips onto yours. You continued when he pulled away, “-thing okay?”

He didn’t say anything, just kissed you again. He brought one hand to cup your cheek and the other to slide down your back and rest on your butt. You pulled away when the popcorn sounded done.

“Could you put another one in while I pour this in the bowl, please?” You asked as you shook the bag to distribute the butter evenly.

“Sure thing,” He said, grabbing another bag out of the box. “How long?”

“Uh, four minutes, but you have to listen for when the popping stops.”

He nodded a little before doing as you instructed.

“Hey, so uh…you and Butcher…is there anything I should worry about?” He asked quietly.

“What?” You laughed a little, but then realized he was serious. “Ben you know I only have eyes for you?”

“Well now you do, what about all that time everyone thought I was dead? You’ve worked with Butcher for years, right?”

“Well that’s not fair!” You scoffed. “You slept with a ton of people before you met me!” He furrowed his brows a little.

“So you slept with Butcher?” He exclaimed.

“Shh!” Your eyes widened, glancing over your shoulder to be sure Hughie and Butcher weren’t listening. “I- I may have had a one night thing with Butcher like four years ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this before we invited him over to our fucking home?” He gritted his teeth a little.

“Please don’t be mad,” You sighed. “It really didn’t mean anything, Ben. He hates Supe’s and I’m pretty sure he regretted it instantly afterwards.” You took his hand in yours and looked up at him. “I only have eyes for you, Ben. I love you!”

“I don’t think he regrets it, he’s been mentally undressing you non-stop.”

“He can mentally undress me all he wants, you’re the one that gets to undress me for real,” You smirked a little.

“Yeah, I still wanna tear his spine out,” He mumbled and started walking away.

“Ben,” You gripped his upper arm and stopped him. He turned to look at you and you pulled him down into a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you,” He smiled.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Butcher before, does it really bother you?”

“Not really, what’s bothering me is how he’s looking at you,” He sighed a little. “They’re sleeping here tonight, right?”

“Yeah,” You nodded.

“Who’s sleeping where?”

“Hughie in the guest room, Butcher on the upstairs couch.”

“The pullout couch?” He smirked. “In the room next to ours?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothin’, nothin’ at all,” He replied and kissed you again.

**

You didn’t notice, but throughout the movie Butcher was eyeing you incrementally. When you’d reach over Ben to grab some popcorn and he could see your cleavage nicely his eyes were glued. It happened quite a few times until Ben moved the popcorn closer to you so you wouldn’t have to reach for it.

Every scary scene you’d reach for Ben’s hand and snuggle into his side for a sense of security. (Not that you were really scared, but you wanted an excuse to be even closer to Ben.) He’d respond by holding you tighter and whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how he’ll never let a killer doll hurt you.

Dinner was a little awkward between Ben and Butcher; Solder Boy caught him eyeing you over and over. You and Hughie, however, were having a lovely conversation about horror movies.

“Pennywise and Micheal Myers aren’t even comparable, Hughie! What kind of question is that?” You scoffed, laughing.

“Okay but overall, Micheal Myers is better,” He replied.

“No! Micheal Myers is just a run-of-the-mill serial killer, Pennywise is a supernatural shape shifting killer clown!” You exclaimed. “Ben, back me up here.” You turned to look at him and gained his attention by tapping his upper arm.

“What was the question sweetheart?” He asked.

“Micheal Myers from the Halloween movies, or Pennywise from Stephen King’s It?”

“Oh Myers definitely,” He nodded.

“No, you’re supposed to say Pennywise,” You whispered.

“I love you but Pennywise is fuckin’ horrific!” He whispered back, smiling.

“I win,” Hughie grinned widely.

“Wait so Annabelle doesn’t scare you but Pennywise does?” You asked Ben, purposefully annoying Hughie by ignoring him.

“All they had to do to stop Annabelle is set her on fire, Pennywise basically can’t die,” He shrugged.

“Okay one, burning the doll would just free the demon, and two, Pennywise dies at the end of the second movie.”

“Does he though, Y/n? Does he?” Ben teased, you rolled your eyes.

“Butcher, you agree with me, right?” You said.

“Pennywise is creepier but is much easier to beat in a fight,” Butcher replied. “All you gotta do is close your eyes, tell yourself he ain’t real, and the cunt disappears. Myers on the other hand has died several times but it never seems to stick. Myers is better.”

“I hate you all so much right now!” You groaned.

“Ooh how about what horror movie villain could you beat in a fight?” Hughie offered, understanding the Myers vs Pennywise topic had been settled.

“All of them,” Ben stated seriously.

**

You stepped out of the bathroom after your shower, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Ben’s.

“On the bed, now.” He said sternly. You smiled widely, you loved when he got all authoritative in the bedroom. You hurried to the bed and he quickly followed, freeing himself of his own clothes.

He knelt down between your bent legs, spreading them wider with his hands. With almost no preparation, he slid himself all the way in, making you cry out with pleasure and pain.

“Oh, god, Ben!” You exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut. He stayed there and watched you writhe under him. “B-Ben, move,” You squeaked, urging him to create some friction.

“Nuh uh,” He held your hips down when you tried to thrust upward. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Ben, I’m all yours,” You breathed.

“Louder, I want Butcher to fuckin’ hear you. I want him to know who fuckin’ owns you.”

“Ben! I’m all yours oh god!” You exclaimed. “Please- Just-”

He bent down and kissed you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t even walk tomorrow,” He whispered. “You’re all mine, Y/n.”

“I’m all yours Ben, fuck!” You screamed.

That was enough for him to pull almost all the way out and thrust back in, repeating over and over. With every thrust he had you screaming his name and proving you truly were all his.

[l3viat8an]

Kinda just imagining bullying levi casually (like how friends do and it seems viscous to bystanders but its still friendly within the circle?) and just picking at how theres no way such a skinny meek 'kid' could ever run any militia in any substantial way 😌 game strats r one thing but surely he cant strategize in a celestial level war, hed totally choke. And then que Levi snap 🫰 full on proving he's actually capable.

Either nsfw/sfw, either way xD

This could be fun sooo many different ways oml-

Like if you’re in public and ‘bullying’ Levi he’s gonna choke up, probably stammering out that you’re right, there’s no way and he really is pathetic- that just leads to a whole self degrading rant from him…

If you do it around the other brothers they’d join in and Levi would end up red in the fact, going on about the different ways he could kill off everyone of them with a fair amount of details too it’s a little scary-

And lastly if you tease him; when it’s just the two of you in his room. You’re teasing him while playing games and he messes up something fairly simple and you win! Add that to your teasing, “Well look at that! I must be even better then I thought to beat the big bad demon admiral! Oh wait, were you actually an admiral? I never remember if that’s a joke or not.” he knows you’re just teasing. He knows you’d have done the same even if he won…..but the little gleeful smile on your face and the challenging spark in your eyes it’s…..so annoying!!! He’s a demon and you’re a human and you’re always teasing him-

He’s on top of you in the blink of an eye, pushing your body down deeper into the beanbag chair, grinning when you gasp and try to wiggle away. “If you’re really soooo much better then me….why do you look so surprised, human?” his voice is low and it sends a shiver running down your spine.

When you don’t answer or tease back right away Levi laughs, “What? Did you really think I’d let you question my rank and get away with it? Wow and you call me pathetic…..you’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?”

now the thing is he might talk and act big and bad for a few minutes- but on the inside Levi’s freaking out, he’s got you pinned underneath him??? He could do anything but he can’t until you make it clear he has permission….

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Poor rendition of queer characters in HH and HB

Here I am again talking about queer representation in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, this time just more generally. Because it's always a little weird to me when people claim HH/HB to have good queer representation, when in actuality most of the queer characters are either just blatant stereotypes or get mishandled somehow. And with Helluva Boss recently winning the Queertys - Web series reward I think that this is probably a pretty good time to acknowledge that kind of stuff (as people have done before).

TW: Sexual assault, R@pe (when referring to the actions of characters)

Blitzø (Pansexual): is very sexual and seen on screen multiple times either having sex or just having had sex. Pretty much fits the general stereotype of queer men always being sexual and also the stereotype of pansexuals just sleeping with everybody. Like, he literally screwed the mutual Ex of his coworkers even though he knew how much that guy hurt them.

Stolas (Gay): also mostly sexual (from how he was introduced) and he is in a pretty terrible "relationship" with Blitzø, which includes coercion, SA, Power dynamics and fetishization. Another very sex-driven queer man. Also just great proof for the people assuming that queer relationships are inherently predatory, unhealthy and never work out.

Moxxie (Bisexual): is often forced into a very feminine role because even in relationships with women, queer men always have to be pointed out to be feminine and putting a guy in a dress is funny I guess.

Fizzarolli & Asmodeus (Queer): they're actually better than a lot of the other characters here but there is still some of that uneven power dynamic going on with them and there are obvious issues with their relationship. Overall they aren't too bad though. They didn't get that much sexual focus and what they got is kinda warranted since Ozzie is the Lust demon. But there is that one scene with Fizz stepping out of his car with Dildo confetti canons (I think) and that was sorta weird, since in an episode before that they presented Crimson as being homophobic and stereotypical for assuming queer men are all obsessed with dicks. Which is just interesting because thats most of the queer men in Vivzepops stories.

Chaz (Queer): just a sexually abusive asshole because we definitely needed more predatory queer men in this show.

Sally May (Trans mtf): basically the single recognized trans character in both shows and she only had one line. After that they made fan merch for her which consisted of her in a bikini with her bulge being drawn pretty visibly (multiple times). Of course there's nothing wrong with Trans people who don't have surgery but it's just a tiny bit weird to me that fanservice merchandise is what she got reduced to, when something like that wasn't even the joke of the only line she had in the show and because she hasn't recieved any kind of focus after that.

Angel Dust (Gay): now there is a lot of stuff that could be said about Angel. On one hand he is another very sexual gay man whose screentime often just consists of sex jokes and references. On the other hand that's a big point for his character. How he tries to act confident in his sexuality when in reality it's the main source of his problems. Though he does often harass other men in the show and that's just so unnecessary. Talking about Angel mostly leads into discussing if he is good representation for SA victims or not, which is something I don't want to talk about that much because I feel like it's not my place to judge that as someone who never has experienced SA. I'm gonna say that I do find Viv's treatment of him outside of the show insensitive (with the pro-shipping, diminishing Valentino as an Abuser and general sexualization of the characters) but as far as the portrayal of him in the show goes I've heard different opinions and you should read the discussion's of actual r@pe survivors about this topic if you want to know about more about it.

Husk (Queer): I don't have anything to say about Husk. He is a very refreshing queer man in these show's and there is nothing bad about him I could think of right now.

Valentino (Queer): for him I mostly want to talk about how he is treated outside of the show which doesn't sit right with me. He is a villian in HH so it's understandable that he is gonna do effed up stuff. I also like that the show tries to make a point about how men get sexually assaulted too (wether they succeeded in that inside the show I'm not gonna judge too hard like I said). But there are a lot of people who not only sexualize him, but also his actions and his relationship to Angel and from what I know Viv never really spoke out against that. She actually interacts with people who do that stuff and I it's just kinda gross.

Vox (Queer): I also don't have a lot to say about him. He and Val are a couple so he is dating a r@pist but he is also a villain so you can't really expect more from him. Especially since he would still be interacting with a r@pist even if they weren't dating.

Alastor (Aromantic, Asexual): is obviously not interested in relationships or sex but his identity is pretty much ignored by a huge amount of the fandom. Vivzepop never say's anything about people blatantly invalidating him like that. It seems to me like she doesn't care about characters who can't be involved in shipping but still wanted to have more diversity in her show so she just called him AroAce. In Hazbin Hotel he isn't bad representation though. His sexuality is never the focus but thats fine, it's mostly just the treatment he gets outside of HH which I don't like.

Charlie (Bisexual): doesn't have a lot to her sexuality. This is something I talked about pretty lengthy in my other post, specifically about the lack of Sapphic content in both shows, so I won't go into too much detail here. Her relationship with Vaggie would probably be the best in both shows if it wasn't for the fact that they both never get the real spotlight as a couple. And there is that thing in Vivzepops stories where the women are pretty much sexless without men and that's obviously something that is generally an issue when talking about the lack of Sapphic representation (which is also a topic heavily tied to sexism). Charlie's portrayal isn't necessarily stereotypical but that's just because there is nothing to her identity in the show.

Vaggie (Lesbian): like I said I already talked about the Chaggie relationship so now I wanna focus on something I didn't even mention in that post. Her name literally being Vagina and that's apparently funny because she is a Lesbian so she obviously likes Vagina. That's just incredibly stereotypical and also excludes Trans Lesbians and Asexual Lesbians who don't want sex. The whole joke was that Adam named her that because he is obsessed with sex and he's a jerk. But her name was always Vagina even in the pilot (from what I know Adam wasn't conceived then and neither was the idea that Vaggie even is a former exterminator).

That's all the queer characters I could think of. I hope I didn't miss any.

I thought about including Millie here too. But she was also already included in my other discussion post and I still don't know if she is canonically Bisexual of if that is just a headcannon so I didn't put her here.

I'm just gonna say that i don't have a problem with queer men being sexual (or any queer person in that regard). But it's pretty much every one of her queer male characters. This is especially bad when a lot of the relationships are toxic as well.

I just think too many characters fit stereotypes and to me that isn't good queer representation. If you like the depiction of queer characters in HH or HB that's good for you and you don't have to agree with me. But you also can't really deny a lot of this stuff and you can't expect others to just be fine with bland, hurtful and sometimes even toxic representation like there is in these shows.

[sebadztian]

It's that time of the week again. I will post my live commentary that nobody asked for, but I will give anyway...

So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the little devil cheating his way to the top!

Alexis could've been a great father figure for Ciel, tbh. He's one of the most sincere, purest character in Kuro, which is saying something...

They just have to include Harcourt scene in the recap, eh? It just has to be there.

Let's fuck after the cricket game...

Moving on...

It's hard to believe thay this is the same guy who'd lead the Phantomfive band just a few months later...

Ciel, you're in the middle of a game, you know... It's probably not the time to think about your boyfriend butler professor Complete with 💖

Anime logic:

Said in Japanese...

Maurice saw right through Ciel... Takes one to know one, eh? But they're actually more similar than Maurice thinks... For one, neither one of them is affected by ladies legs. Why? Because they're both GAY

UT is holding his hair up in a bun under that top hat!

I just had a random thought. UT chose to show himself for 2 reasons.

1. So that R!Ciel could watch his brother cheat at play cricket.

2. In BoC, UT taunted Ciel, saying that he can't do anything without his butler, so UT showed himself, knowing full well that Ciel would send Seb after 'The Head Master'. And then he took Seb on a chase game so that Ciel can prove to himself(?) that he can win the match without his butler? 🤔

Back to the game... Ciel is very smart and if he were given the chance to go to actual school normally, I'm sure he'll excel academically.

I love rhat Cheslock is calling Ciel a 'shrimp' 🦐

I was right. Seb knew about UT, or rather, UT let the demon find out.

That evil smirk... Ciel has the 'evil blood' from his dad, and that evil gene is enhanced further by having his own demon... This boy is truly a force to be reckoned with.

He found a loophole and used it to his advantage, without breaking any rule. I've a feeling that he's learned this lesson from a certain demon...

I love that Elizabeth is so torn between cheering for her brother or her fiance...

Mey-Rin is like a living, breathing, walking binocular 😂

"There's no ball that I can't hit!"

Big talk for a guy who missed the ball because of some ladies ankles, Greenhill!

What the fuck is that?? A missile?!

Silence... Everyone is so shocked at Ciel's 'heroic act'...

Wait... Wait... That's it?? Where's the scene where Seb carried Ciel to the infirmary?? i was waiting the whole episode for that!! If they cut that in next week's episode, I'm going to riot!!

[t-lostinworlds]

A Strange(r’s) Comfort | Peter Parker

A/N: had this idea right after i saw nwh which was...years ago now lol. rewatched it again recently so here’s me dusting off a wip that’s been sitting in my drafts. basically, this is just me giving peter some comfort in a way, bc that boy really needs one :((

》 PAIRING: peter parker x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: strangers to lovers (mostly implied); soft angst; hurt/comfort 》 SUMMARY: Peter found a strange comfort in the graveyard, no less. But hearing about your day-to-day had been the highlight of his. And when one night led to the both you showing vulnerability, suddenly, Peter didn't feel so alone anymore. Maybe a stranger's comfort wasn't so bad. 》 WARNINGS: Spoilers? (i mean it’s been a while); bad jokes/puns (one about chicken & one about sex lmao); peter eavesdropping (sorta...ya know, enhanced hearing); it’s mostly set in the graveyard so...; mentions of: death, car accident, drunk drivers, being in jail for a moment, petty theft, peer pressure; and overall just dealing with grief and peter & reader bonding over their experience with grief. 》 WORD COUNT: 5.2k+ (issa baby fic)

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ P. PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Some might consider it unhealthy, but was there really a 'right' way to deal with the loss of someone you hold near and dear to your heart? They might even say it was excessive, but who were they to police him? They didn't know what he was going through. They could never understand what he was going through.

A part of him had excused it with his wounds being fresh, that with time, he'd be able to learn not to dwell too long on the remnants of the people he loves. Maybe with time, he'd be able to move on, something that seemed so impossible at the moment. But he'll get there—well, he hoped so, at least.

Either way, there was no doubt that everyone handled grief differently.

For Peter Parker, that was visiting May's grave every day.

Once was enough.

That was what he limited himself to, at least.

But still, it was barely enough to settle the demons in his head. Barely enough to stop him from replaying the scene over and over.

Peter had been recalculating in utter desperation as to what else he could've done better, what else he could've done more to save her.

That was what it was like most nights.

Some nights, though, his mind would switch things up a bit, thinking that maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe it was a case of what he shouldn't have done.

Those nights Peter sometimes found himself picking apart every choice he'd ever made before it led to that point.

Maybe if he hadn't chosen to go on that stupid school trip to Europe then this wouldn't have happened. Maybe his identity wouldn't have been revealed and it wouldn't have led for that first domino to tumble, knocking over the rest that made his life turn for the absolute worse.

Or maybe, he didn't need to go that far back in the past. Maybe he simply shouldn't have chosen to question Dr. Strange's decision to send those villains back to where they came from immediately.

But sadly, that was all there was to it.

Peter's thoughts were simply and only just a whole bunch of unanswerable maybes.

Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe he owed it to them to try his best and fix things, maybe he didn't owe them anything at all. Maybe it was the wrong choice to try and save everyone, maybe it was right.

Aunt May said he did the right thing.

But it didn't feel like it sometimes.

Hell, it didn't even feel like it was even worth it. And no matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was right, his thoughts still managed to convince him that every. single. choice he made was simply wrong.

It wasn't even difficult to come to that conclusion anymore. Because ever since he got bitten by that spider, his loss considerably outweighed all his wins. And from then onwards, it just felt like he kept losing, and losing, and losing, and losing.

Right now, the most mundane thing he'd been losing lately was sleep, at the very least.

He'd gotten a job as a delivery guy at this small chicken joint a couple of streets down his apartment. Some might call it cheating—in his opinion, it was simply taking a shortcut—but he'd leave the bicycle they'd lend him in an alleyway and just swing the chickens to their destination. Sure, changing in and out of his suit was a bit tiring but it was definitely far better than dealing with New York traffic.

Apart from that, he'd also begun with some freelance photography work, dusting off the old DSLR camera Ben and May got him. He got decent at it a while back. But it got long forgotten the minute they bought him his first video game console, two years later.

He was starting off small, from random birthday parties to taking photos of restaurants or any establishment that was looking to use the pictures for ads or whatever. He was up for anything, anyone who didn't mind getting an okay photo at best.

There wasn't much to it, though, since nobody was really keen on hiring someone who didn't have experience. As a matter of fact, he didn't even have a high school diploma. Which had now led to him sacrificing countless hours of studying for his GED tests.

So, it was safe to say that he was handling a lot, especially juggling it with his still ongoing nighttime patrols.

Yet all of that seemed so much easier compared to what he had to deal with once he was lying in bed, wide awake even if it was past midnight. What went on in his day-to-day was only a fraction of the reason why he was losing sleep because his damning thoughts just had a habit of being so loud once everything else had quieted down.

It was hard as it was dealing with grief, even though he for sure had dealt with it more times than needed in such a short amount of time.

But what was more difficult about it this time around, was dealing with alone.

And Peter Parker was truly and utterly, alone.

No fellow Avenger to advise on ways to deal with this. After all, they were the only people who could understand even the slightest bit of what he was going through.

Saving the rest only to fail at saving one, losing someone in the midst of fighting for the rest of the world.

No Happy to offer some guidance on dealing with the loss of someone near and dear to you. Or for him to just be there as someone Peter could relate to, just like when Tony had died.

No Ned and MJ to give him company, offer their different ways of comfort as best as they could. They weren't there to simply make him laugh, offer that tiniest moment of reprieve, distract him with their theories and arguments about anything and everything to help him escape from, well, everything.

Right now, Peter had no one.

Going from having the people he truly cared about be only one call away, to suddenly being someone labeled as 'unknown number' in their contact lists, it was difficult.

But maybe he would just learn to live with it.

And maybe the first step to being able to live with his grief was to visit May frequently.

It didn't matter what time of the day it was. Whether it was early morning or just a few minutes after lunch, or when the sky started tinting orange as the sun slowly set. Midday or midnight, dusk or dawn, it didn't matter as long as he could visit her just once.

Maybe a part of him was hoping that by some miracle he'd hear her voice again, telling him, even if it was the last time, that you're going to be okay.

Peter needed it, so badly. He needed to be told that things would turn out alright because him being fine? It seemed like a far-off dream at this point.

He'd been to space, been to the mirror dimension, fought villains from other universes, been the center of a spell that erased people's memories and made them forget who he was.

Surely hearing the voice of a loved one that had passed wasn't too much to ask?

Yet every day, every moment he ventured into the graveyard, he was met by silence.

Well, aside from the distant hum of New York as life moved on. There was also the deep howl of the wind at night, a few cracking branches accompanied by the soft coo of crows.

Some would probably find peace from all the white noise, but Peter couldn't say he found any comfort in it. He'd only grown accustomed to it, used to tuning out the rest of the world to avoid being reminded of a life he once had.

Still, quietness had always been typical during his visits.

That, until one Saturday afternoon.

•••

Peter sensed another person approaching before he could even see them.

The soft crunch of fallen leaves was what he heard first, followed by a soft humming of some holiday song.

He looked up from the book he was reading, curious eyes landing on someone carrying flowers, a slight pep in her step which was unusual given the location.

Still, there was something about you that Peter couldn't help but be drawn to.

"There we go, all nice and clean," he heard you say, rustling of dried leaves and the soft brushing of clothes following suit. "And flowers well hydrated with bottled spring water."

You were talking to yourself.

It was a habit, he assumed. You just seemed comfortable doing it, as if you were having a mundane conversation with someone else.

Peter found it oddly endearing.

"I brought your favorite this time Dad because I am sure you're complaining to Mom why I always bring her favorite flowers," you explained with a soft laugh. "I sometimes forget you're a flowers type of guy, too."

No—you weren't talking to yourself.

You were talking to the gravestone.

His curiosity piqued even more.

It wasn't that you were being loud, either. Not at all. You were speaking softly as you typically would if you were by yourself in a graveyard, no less.

But because of his enhanced hearing, he simply couldn't help but listen.

"Sorry I haven't been here for a little while, just been busy with you know, moving, college, finding a job with a minimum wage that will not cover rent alone so what even is the point? We look for a job to survive but when we do find a job it doesn't even pay you enough to get by? Some people don't even hire you because 'not enough experience' and I'm like, duh? I'm trying to gain experience hence why I'm applying? Who even invented this shithole?"

Peter found himself nodding along, unable to argue with your claims when they were filled with nothing but the truth.

"Sorry, sorry, it just doesn't make a damn sense," you sighed. He could almost hear you rolling your eyes. "Anyway, I then have other adult things I really don't want to deal with like learning how to deal with taxes and stuff which is so dumb given I'm close to broke and—where does my tax go, anyway? Some politician's tenth vacation to the Bahamas, probably."

For the first time in a long while, Peter cracked a smile.

"Ugh, I am sorry, I promise I don't come here only to complain to you guys," you said, "But I am doing okay…"

He couldn't really explain the 'why,' but the soft tug in his heartstrings was definitely real when he heard the melancholia in your voice.

"The holidays are coming up," you said softly, the slight shake in your tone unmistakable. Yet as it rushed to the surface, it was just as quickly replaced with a chipper one.

"They always tell me how you both are watching over me now. But I don't know if I really want that," you sighed exaggeratedly. "Not because I hate you guys. But imagine if I was having sex? I really don't want to think about you 'watching over me' because it's really uncomfortable."

Peter couldn't stop his snort, his eyes widening as he spared you a glance. He was as grateful that you didn't seem to hear him.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was eavesdropping—well, maliciously, at least.

"It's a joke, Mom. See, Dad gets it."

Silence hung in the air after that, a sudden gust of wind blowing away the leaves that littered the snow-covered grass.

But he had a feeling the shake in your voice wasn't because of the cold.

"I really miss you guys…"

Peter left at that.

He didn't see you again for the next few days, probably because he never did visit at the same hour of the day. He never actively tried to see what time you were there, either—if you went every day at all. He'd just become a stalker at that point.

So, every time you did cross paths, it was entirely by chance.

The next encounter was when he brought his lunch with him to the graveyard. He'd caught sight of you sitting on a pink blanket that was laid out on the grass, legs crossed with a box of pizza to your right.

Instinctively, you looked up and over your shoulder when you heard his footsteps.

Your eyes immediately locked with his.

Pretty was the first word that came to his mind.

Beautiful, when you offered him a sweet and warm smile.

"Hello," you greeted.

Peter couldn't help but smile in return.

"Hi."

Nothing else was said after that.

You both respectively ate your lunches in your little corners, your soft humming bringing a comforting peace, one he still couldn't quite explain.

And from there on out, Peter learned that you did go there every day, but it was only either at lunchtime or late in the afternoon.

Because whenever Peter went during those times, you were always there.

As he said, he never actively tried to be there whenever you were. He didn't change anything with his routine. He still went there at random times of the day.

You and him crossing paths simply happened.

And most of those moments, Peter couldn't help but listen in on your rambles.

It might have been wrong, otherwise, creepy, but it wasn't like you were unaware of his presence. You weren't being loud, but you weren't exactly whispering into nothing either. If it were an unenhanced being, they would still hear you, but maybe only slightly inaudible. Peter just had the ability to make out your words a little clearer than the average person.

Besides, all your stories had been mundane at most, quite adorable at best.

Like that one time you ran into a post because you saw a cat wearing some boots and a clear raincoat across the road. Or that time you missed your stop in the subway because you kept talking to a Corgi who was lounging comfortably in their owner's backpack.

"His little legs were so cute!"

Like he said, adorable.

But if it was something personal, though, he'd learned to tune it out. He made sure to keep those matters out of his ear, leaving your private conversations, well, private.

Yet your silly and terrible jokes, your gripes about society and the unfairness of the world, to your little story times and mundane gossip of what you'd heard on the street, Peter couldn't help but tune in as if he was listening to the morning radio.

It made Peter feel lighter somewhat, a feeling he never once associated when being in a graveyard.

He didn't know if it was your stories, or if it was simply hearing that soft tone of your voice. Either way, he found it comforting, which was so strange.

Never had he ever thought he would find comfort from a stranger, no less.

A strange comfort.

•••

"People always ask why did the chicken cross the road. They never ask why the chicken didn't cross the road."

Peter perked up in curiosity, ready to hear another of the many jokes you'd completely ruined.

He found it absolutely hilarious how you were churning typical and old punchlines into horrible ones.

The funniest part was, it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

"Why, you ask? Because they physically can't anymore," you said, pausing for added effect. "People enjoy eating chicken legs way too much."

Peter's eyes grew wide, gaze landing on the chicken leg he just finished. He couldn't stop the sound that escaped his lips.

It was a mix between a wheeze, a laugh, and a cough.

Loud enough to get your attention.

"Hey," you called, voice sounding closer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh—uhm, hi," he stammered, caught off guard when you were now suddenly in front of him. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "And yeah, I'm good,"

"Do you need some water?" You offered him a bottle.

"No, no, I've got my own," he declined, lifting his bottle. "But thank you."

"Oh okay," you said, smiling sweetly. "It just sounded like you were choking or something so I wanted to make sure if you were alright."

Peter blushed.

"No, I was…uhm—" He scratched the back of his neck. "I was holding back my laugh."

You tilted your head, bottom lip jutted out and Peter found himself thinking of ways to smooth out the little crinkled on your forehead, maybe kiss—wait what?

"Why would you do that?" you asked.

Shit.

Did I say that out loud?

"Sorry?" He blinked at you.

"Why would you hold back your laugh?"

"Oh," he sighed, mostly in relief. "Just didn't want to seem creepy and I wasn't…eavesdropping or anything but I uhm—heard your joke." Chuckling shyly, he smiled. "It was pretty funny."

"Funny because it was bad?" You raised a knowing brow. "If you say it was good then I'm really going to question your sense of humor."

"It was really bad," he admitted, breathing out a laugh.

The way your smile brightened made Peter's heart do a funny thing.

"Thanks," you giggled. "I pride myself in my bad jokes."

"Yeah," he breathed out, willing his heart to stop being so goddamn weird, what is going on with you? "And sorry for not helping the chickens cross the road."

You stared at him confused.

That was until he pointed towards the bag on the ground that had the logo of a chicken on it.

Your hearty laugh rang in the air.

Peter found himself growing warmer at the sound, the burn starting right in his chest and spreading to the whole expanse of his body.

"I—whew, sorry, wow," you heaved after a moment. "Haven't laughed like that in a while."

Both of you fell silent after that—not an awkward one. If anything, it was pleasant, like there was an unspoken understanding being exchanged with a simple look.

"This may seem like weird advice but try and talk to them," you softly said.

Peter looked at you, confused.

You gestured toward the tombstone with a sympathetic smile.

"They might hear it, they might not, there's really no way of knowing," you explained. "But what more could you lose if you try? Plus, you'll get it off your chest and that's always progress."

"I—" Peter nodded, the corner of his lips curling up. "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

You smiled at that. "I'll see you around."

"See you around," he hummed, gaze never leaving your figure even as you left, his eyes steady on the path you walked on as he mulled over your words.

It was kind of weird advice, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

Peter didn't question it nor did he judge—who was he to judge? After all, everyone handled grief differently.

But as he sat down on the ground, eyes steady on the lettering of May's name, he found the words flowing out so easily.

"Hi, May I—" Peter took a sharp breath, blinking away the sting that started to settle in his eyes. "Wow. It's been a while since I've talked to you, huh?"

It started out simple, filling her up with what was new with his life recently—the job, his education, all those mundane stuff.

But then as he shifted from one topic to another, he inevitably started talking about all the things that felt so wrong. And once that train left the station, it was so difficult to stop.

It wasn't a complaint. It was an unloading of the baggage he'd been carrying around alone for quite some time now.

All the loneliness and grief, the boiling anger and consuming regret, the love and the love lost, to the bleak look of what his future held.

Peter didn't realize he was crying until a soft gush of wind brushed his cheeks, the coldness making him catch his breath with a shiver.

And then, a small white butterfly flew right in front of him, stopping momentarily before disappearing into the now setting sky.

Peter let out a breath.

Lighter and relieved.

It could've been a coincidence, or maybe it wasn't at all.

But what more could he lose if he took that as a sign that she heard him?

So with a small, tearful smile, he sighed,

"Thanks for always hearing me out, May."

Since then, he'd grown to tell May about his day. Some were tougher than others, while some were snippets of his new life—mundane and simple but starting to become fulfilling the more he looked at it from different perspectives.

As the weeks passed by, Peter's everyday visits became every other day. At first, the guilt of missing a day was heavily consuming. But it didn't take long for it slowly turn into a soft lull—still there, but not as bad as it used to be.

There was one other thing he hoped for whenever he wandered into the graveyard, though.

To see you again.

If it was one last time just so he could say thank you, then he'd take it.

That didn't mean he wasn't wishing for it to be more.

•••

The hair on every inch of Peter's body stood up when he heard it.

It was definitely not his spider sense going awry. This was very much a human reaction.

Well, he could imagine that when the first thing a person would hear as they venture into a graveyard in the dead of the night was crying, even the toughest men would get spooked.

But as soon as Peter located the source of the sound, his heart broke.

He wasn't expecting to find you, sat on the cold ground alone, hugging your knees to your chest, body shaking with sobs.

His first instinct was to fight whoever it was that made you cry because how fucking dare they?

But with a controlled breath, Peter walked over to you, making sure to step on dried leaves so you'd be aware of his presence.

Your head snapped up at the sound, puffy red eyes landing on him.

His frown could only deepen as he slowly sat beside you, offering you a tender smile with his arms wide open.

You stared at him with furrowed brows, eyes switching between his face and his open arms, downright confused.

Peter couldn't blame you. After all, you didn't know him.

He was ready for you to yell at him for being a creep, to scream at him to get lost. He was prepared for you to push him away—hell, punch him in the face—and run as fast as you could.

But instead, your lips quivered, a broken sob following suit. With your head hung low, you fell into his embrace.

And Peter hugged you as tightly as he could.

He didn't say anything, didn't feel like it was needed. He simply held you close, rubbing circles over your back as he gently rocked you from side to side.

Crying it all out until you couldn't anymore was, most of the time, the best thing you could do at the moment.

So he let you.

Only when your sobs turned to sniffles to soft shaky breaths did you pull away. 

"Your shirt," you gasped shakily, bottom lip jutting out as your eyes began to water again. "Oh no, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured, squeezing your shoulders before reluctantly letting you go. "I wouldn't have offered you a hug if I minded."

"Thank you," you whispered. "I really needed that."

"No worries." He nodded with a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just—" you sighed, wiping your face with the sleeves of your coat. "It's my first holiday alone so it's been kinda tough."

"Me too," he hummed, smiling sadly when you looked at him, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing your face. "My parents have been gone since I was a kid, and I was left with my uncle and aunt. My uncle died a few years ago so all I had left was her but now she's…"

"I'm sorry," you softly said, your hand finding his.

You gave it a squeeze.

Peter squeezed back.

"I only had my parents growing up," you started, gesturing at the tombstone. "Didn't get to meet my grandparents, never really met many of my relatives because they're all halfway across the world, so now it's just me."

Peter didn't know what it was, exactly. Maybe it was the warmth of your hand still holding his and your kind eyes bearing no judgment or pity. Maybe it was the sheer comfort you provided, one that he still couldn't quite explain.

Either way, he found himself sharing what it had been like for him. Sure, he left out details to keep his deepest secret uncovered, and to come and think about it, it was mostly things connected to Aunt May. But Peter definitely spilled way too much to someone he barely even knew.

He did not regret it one bit.

"I promised to protect her and I—"

"I'm sure you gave it your all," you assured.

"Not enough to keep her alive," he scoffed, tone far more bitter than he intended to. He caught himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry—"

"Never apologize for how you feel," you said firmly.

Peter nodded, his attention caught by your thumb that was absentmindedly running circles over the back of his hand. You'd been holding onto it as you listened to his story, and he found himself not minding it at all.

If anything, a part of him wanted you to never let go.

"But I get it," you breathed out. "The whole 'this is my fault' thing."

"Was it an accident?" he asked softly.

You nodded. "Car crash. Some drunk frat boys thought it was a good idea to test out how fast they could go in their new truck into an open road."

He frowned. "That's not your fault."

"It is," you insisted. "They wouldn't have been out on the road in the first place if they weren't coming to pick me up in the dead of the night." Shaking your head, you scoffed, "I wish I could say I was at a friend's house but they were coming to bail me out of jail."

Attempting to lighten up the mood, Peter softly bumped his shoulder with yours. "Am I in the midst of a troublemaker?"

That earned him a teary chuckle.

He took it as a win.

"Not quite," you sighed, your smile fading. "Got hung up with the wrong crowd. They kept teasing me that I was too much of a miss goody two shoes and that I should live a little."

"Peer pressure is one nasty thing."

"Yeah well, I still did it." You shrugged, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. "A group of us were walking home from a party and we passed by this random minimart on the way. My so-called friends thought it was a good idea to dare me to steal one thing from the store, to break my 'good girl' streak as they put it.

"They all gave me ultimatums, one of them was either I steal something or they'll tell the whole school that I was the real definition of 'The freaks in bed are always the quiet ones' so my loser reputation is no more. They said they can't hang around me anymore if I kept being the loser of the group. It was tough because they were all the friends I had."

Peter couldn't stop the surge of pure anger that ran through him. "They sound fucking horrible."

"Yeah, and I was stupid enough to go along with it." Shaking your head, you chuckled, tone void of humor. "It wasn't even the owner who saw me, it was some random white woman yelling bloody murder as if I was burning the goddamn place down. And the second my friends saw the security guards? Oh, they ran, left me there to fend for myself."

Peter unclenched his fist, settling to rub circles on your back instead.

"It was one candy," you choked back a sob, gesturing towards the tombstone. "But the punishment feels—"

Peter wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a side hug when you started crying again.

"And you know what hurts most?" you whimpered, fisting his jacket as you laid your head on his shoulder. "Knowing that the last memory they had of me was just filled with disappointment."

"I'm sure that's not true," he said softly, squeezing you close. "They loved you."

"I know they did I just—"

"Wish you could go back and change every decision you made?"

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him, eyes glossy yet he saw the flicker of gratefulness in them.

Peter felt it in himself too, an appreciation to finding someone who could understand even the littlest bit of what he was going through.

"Yeah," you shakily breathed out, letting out a soft laugh as you wiped your nose. "God, what a way to celebrate the holidays, huh?"

He chuckled at that, nodding.

It was definitely something, crying your heart out, spilling all your trauma to a stranger in the dead of night at a graveyard.

But there was only one thought that stayed at the forefront of his mind.

Peter didn't feel so alone anymore.

"Yeah," he hummed, a shy smile playing on his lips. "But I'm glad I'm not alone."

Your whole face brightened, your fingers interlacing with his.

"Me too," you said, smiling. "We're going to be okay."

Peter felt some weight lift off his entire back at those simple words of reassurance.

"We're going to be okay."

Teasingly bumping his shoulder with yours, you hummed, "I'm Y/N, by the way."

You both laughed at the absurdity of it, getting to know each other's pain, regret, hurt and grief before even getting the chance to know a name.

"Peter," he sighed, squeezing your hand. "Peter Parker."

Later that night, he somehow gathered up the courage to ask if you wanted to get some hot cocoa with him. And when you said yes with that smile he'd grown to adore so much, Peter had an inkling that you wouldn't stay a stranger to him in the long run.

But for now, as you laid your head on his shoulder, your soft breaths visible in the cold air, tiny snowflakes on your lashes, face glowing underneath the moonlight, warmth and contentment bloomed in his chest.

Peter was smiling.

Genuine and pure, and perhaps a sign of a new beginning.

A stranger's comfort wasn't so bad, after all.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading hun! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated <3

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© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[blorbocedes]

hi im pretty new to f1 and ive been watching ur reccommended nico races. do u have any nonwinning races that hes good in that u think r worth watching?

yes yes hello!!! this got lost in my drafts my bad, I had some help from my supreme nicologist @keepthedelta for some of the reccs

(here's the aforementioned nico wins recc)

so, some nico races he didn't win but put up a hell of a show:

- debut! his debut williams race, he scored points on debut AND fastest lap. highly recommend bahrain 2006

- australia 2008, first podium!!! that's where the iconic lewis spinning nico around comes from

- CRASHGATE aka what should've been Nico's First Win, Singapore 2008. iconic messy race

- china 2010 and Britain podiums in a Mercedes that was not very good at all

- Bahrain 2014 was one of the silver war battle masterclasses, and Bahrain 2015 was Nico fighting for his life with brake failure and battling seb and still podiuming

- Canada 2014 the F1 mechanical masterclass of All Time with Nico's telemetry dying multiple times and he crawled to p2.

- malaysia 2016 absolutely insane charge from last place to the podium with no safety car and a penalty

and finally the last, but never the least:

- Abu Dhabi 2016 - the title fight. HIGH STAKES DRAMA. nico being sick with nerves that entire weekend. lewis backing into him cause there's a chance if he's p4 and below lewis wins on points. teenage demon max fucking verstappen. just the most cathartic race

[final-script]

 From The Beginning| Ruben Dias

Pairing: Ruben Dias x Reader

Sumary: From the beginning he knew that he had to do everything possible to be with you.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!.There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later),

Gif: mcfc-evie

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

From the moment the Portuguese met you, he knew he had to do everything to win you over.

He knew he wanted you to be his girlfriend and if life was on his side, he wanted you to be his wife.

Fortunately, life and luck were on his side.

Indeed, the part that had cost him the most was to conquer you.

Because, well… You were the difficult part, that is, not you, but your character.

Character that let's say, you forced a little, when you saw the intentions that Ruben had with you.

You did not do it to be a bad person, but because to personal taste, you did not like when things were too easy, you liked to work for what you wanted and on a sentimental level, you liked that whoever wanted to be with you, made their own effort.

Nor was it that you believed someone important, but you had always believed that everything was easy, was not always good and this was also applied to let people into your life.

Because of past experiences, you were acting this way now.

(...)

It was their confidence and determination that made Ruben not give up with you.

And although there were times when he wanted to leave everything, fortunately he did not.

After insisting a few times, without being demonized stalker, you finally agreed to date him.

(...)

They dined in a quiet place, without much luxury but quite welcoming.

At the end of the night, the appointment, I end with him leaving you at the door of your house and with the intention of leaving again.

(…)

And so it was, a date became two and two became three, until a couple of months later, he asked the question.

For the moment, you were more than in love with the Portuguese of 1.86, you clearly said yes, sealing the moment with a kiss that expressed all emotions.

All that happened exactly 3 years ago.

3 beautiful years in which Ruben confirmed, demonstrated and returned to demonstrate and confirm, how in love he was with you.

3 years of relationship, 2 of living together and 1 years ago he began to think about wanting to join his life to yours in marriage.

A couple of weeks before its 3 anniversary it was decided to start preparing the grand proposal.

It was "grand" in a figurative sense, as it would be simple as the things that both liked.

The place, had decided for the simple restaurant in which they had had their first date.

And most importantly, the ring, also simple but that would also look beautiful adorning your hand, if you agreed to marry it.

(…)

Ruben could definitely classify organizing a marriage proposal as one of the most stressful things in his life.

I used to be a perfectionist so as simple as I wanted to do it, I wanted it to be perfect.

(…)

Y/N- can you tell me what's happening to you?

In the middle of anniversary, he kept bouncing his leg, it was not something that bothered me, but… Since I've known him, every time

I dIt took him a couple of seconds to start responding.

Y/N- you know you can trust me, whatever it is you can tell me.id that it was because I was nervous about something.

R- From the first moment I saw you, I knew I had to do, everything in my power to be with you, you were not an easy person and I think that's what motivated me to keep trying, there were times when I was about to leave everything, I'm glad I didn't, thanks to that and After managing to take you on that first date, I confirmed that you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, I know that's what I want, but you? Do you want the same? do you want to marry me? and spend the rest of your life together?

I admired the confidence and determination that the man in front of me had and how hard he tried in every part of his life, I was sure that I would be a complete fool, if I rejected him.

Y/N- I think I would have to be very sick in my head to say no right now, of course I want to spend the rest of my life with the wonderful man you are.

I place the ring on my finger and then shorten our distance.

It was going to be Mrs. Dias and I was very happy about it.

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

ANOTHERS

December Visits - Ruben Dias x Reader

Young, frightened and inexperienced - Lando Norris x Reader

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hey guess what it's more Good Ganondorf content!

@silvercaptain24 <3

The party had long since finished. Link had been escorted back to his room and left in peace. With food in his stomach and some water, he felt his strength returning. His body trembled as he stood tentatively, alone in his room, but he managed to stay on his feet nonetheless.

Stepping quietly to the door, Link put an ear to it. There had to be guards outside, but he hadn't seen any when Nabooru had brought him back here.

This entire situation was making less sense, but he wasn't going to stick around long enough to parse it all out. Nabooru had claimed Ganondorf was holding him hostage to keep him safe. Ganondorf himself had tried to make himself look like he wasn't the villain, like the entirety of Hyrule hadn't been ripped apart at the seams because of his corruption and desire for power, like he hadn't torn the Triforce from Link and Zelda in battle while his army slaughtered their men.

It didn't make sense. What game was the monster playing? Link would have to figure it out when he made it back to his own people. Zelda and his army were waiting for him. The queen was no doubt trying to get a rescue operation together, and Link didn't want to risk anyone's lives over himself, not when he could find his own way out. He wasn't some helpless fool, he could handle this, and he would get the Triforce pieces back that the queen so desperately guarded.

He'd seen the crazed look in Zelda's eyes when they'd lost the Triforce the first time. He didn't want to see that again.

There was no other way out of this room than to use the door. It felt stupidly simple and reckless. He had to open it quickly, to catch the guards by surprise, wherever they were stationed. He needed some kind of weapon. He'd managed to sneak a knife in from dinner, slipping it into his boot, but he wasn't sure how useful it would be. He gripped it firmly in his hand and took a steadying breath.

It was now or never.

Link threw the door open, quickly taking in his surroundings, and saw... nothing.

No one... was there.

Well, he couldn't stop to think about it. The noise he'd just made would attract attention.

Trying to remember the path Nabooru had led him through to get outside, Link ran quickly, ignoring the chill that sank into his bones as he moved. When had it gotten so cold? His fingers felt like they were getting numb already as they gripped the knife.

The hallway opened up to a larger room. He remembered that. This was where--

A hand grabbed him by the back of his tunic and yanked harshly, sending him to the floor with a yell. Link kicked blindly, eyes focusing on his target.

It was Ghirahim.

Snarling, Link rolled to get away and swiped with the knife to create distance. Ghirahim caught his arm by the wrist, watching him with a sadistic smile.

"I figured you wouldn't sit still for long, sky child," he purred.

Something in Link roared in response, and he let out a battle cry as gripped the demon's arm with his free hand, bringing all his weight down to drag Ghirahim to the ground. The demon gasped a little at the increased weight he was holding, but he caught the hero by the shirt instead of letting them both fall.

Link spat in his face next, and that worked brilliantly, making the demon hiss and pull away immediately. Free from his grasp, Link began to run, knowing this was not a fight he was going to win with a knife. He heard a snap and Ghirahim appeared in front of him.

"Now, now," Ghirahim said, brushing some white hair out of his face. "I have strict orders to keep you here."

"Over my dead body," Link snarled.

"Oh, I wish," Ghirahim replied. "You see, that has been a point of contention lately. My master wishes you alive and it is so dreadfully taxing on me. But I trust his judgment. He has a way to address the true matter. And then your little vassal can be safe and sound while I deal with you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Link snapped, eyes searching for another escape route as he spoke. The demon lord certainly loved to talk, so if Link could use that to his advantage, he would.

"It's amazing how dense you can be," Ghirahim grumbled. "Honestly, an entire war fought for you and you don't even understand it. Cia may have fallen in love with you, but she desires your vassal. Nevertheless, this has always been about eliminating you. My master understands that. It will be my highest honor to serve in that capacity for him, to be the one to deliver the killing blow. I cannot wait for that momentous occasion."

"You're out of your mind," Link replied. Another hallway was just to the left, and if he ran fast enough... "I am the Hero. I don't know what you're talking about with vassals. I serve the queen as a--"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT THE QUEEN!" Ghirahim screamed, face contorted in rage. "This is about you, sky child, about revenge, about eliminating the one threat in my master's way! Her Grace isn't here, and her descendant doesn't have a fraction of that power, the Triforce is all my master needs now, and I will finally be able to kill you!"

The conversation was about to end and Link knew it. He tore off in the direction of the other hallway, managing to round the corner when he heard a snap again. He was prepared this time, grabbing the nearest pot and throwing it just as diamonds materialized in front of him. Ghirahim grunted as it made impact as soon as he appeared, shattering into countless pieces while Link quickly backtracked and went a different way.

By the grace of the goddesses, that had given the captain enough time to at least outmaneuver the demon lord, who wasn't sure which part of the compound Link had ended up by now. He was grateful for it, his heart racing and pounding in his ears as he rushed to find an exit. Fighting Ghirahim in the heat of battle felt far more... controlled than this. Here he felt like prey, and Ghirahim's rage and power over him was...

He wasn't going to say he was scared. He wouldn't.

Link felt a breeze and it gave him hope. That had to mean he was close to the outdoors. But where were all the Gerudo?

A door was up ahead, sand trickling in from beneath it, a promise of freedom and safety. Link threw it open with relief.

And ran right into Ganondorf.

Gasping, Link scrambled backwards, losing his footing and his balance as he fell unceremoniously to the ground. He continued to scoot away, trying to find a way around the towering figure. The man was enormous - it could give Link the advantage of scurrying around him if he was fast enough, but the world was spinning and--

"I figured you might try this," Ganondorf sighed.

Okay. Okay, fine. So they were talking. That would give him time to catch his breath. All these fools and their monologues - and people said Link was arrogant. At least he didn't usually give his enemies time to formulate a plan while they were actively standing in front of him.

"Your strength is returning," Ganondorf noted, walking towards him. "But that doesn't mean you're ready for a fight."

Well, Link might as well try to get some answers while he was here. "Where's the Triforce, you monster?"

"Where it needs to be," Ganondorf answered simply, closing the door behind him, much to Link's dismay. He stared at Link for an uncomfortably long time, making the captain squirm.

"Nabooru said you want me alive. Tell me why," he demanded, trying to make the man talk again.

Ganondorf was silent for a moment longer and then shook his head. "You're not in a state to accept my words."

"Try me," Link goaded. He had to admit, at this point he was curious. And it bought him more time to figure out what the heck his next step would be.

"I know your type, Hero," Ganondorf said, tacking on the title as if it were a curse. "You follow the queen like a puppy that doesn't know any better. Your heart is filled with a sense of duty, a desire to help and do good, and it is fixed on that woman. You'll do whatever Zelda tells you."

Link bristled but bit his tongue. Whatever slander Ganondorf was about to say didn't interest him, but the man hadn't made a point yet.

"You don't see the mess you're in," Ganondorf continued, shaking his head. "You don't understand. I'm trying to protect you, Link."

Link blinked. Then he blinked again. Nabooru had said as much, but hearing it from him... well. She had said keep him safe. He'd interpreted it as keep him alive. "Protect me from what?"

"Everything," Ganondorf muttered in a low time, voice rumbling in his chest. He bent forward, as if to grab Link, and the captain took that as his cue.

Link bolted, rushing to the left to get out of the reach of the man as he tried to run around him, using his small size to his advantage. He reached the door and immediately realized his mistake.

It was locked.

The ground vanished beneath him, and Link felt his stomach lurch as he was held in the air by one of his arms. The strain of having his entire body weight pulled into his shoulder joint made him grit his teeth. Then his world twirled as he was tossed against the man, his back to Ganondorf's chest, held in place by an arm wrapped around his torso.

"Let me go!" he yelled, kicking his legs as much as possible.

"I told you that you were not ready for this conversation," Ganondorf said, almost chidingly. "I'm taking you back to your room so you can rest."

"You think I'll be ready for a conversation that isn't true?" Link snapped. "You're holding me hostage for a reason, stop lying to me!"

Ganondorf said nothing, walking down the hallway with Link his helpless prisoner dangling in his grip. His waist and stomach ached from the hold, though at least pressed against someone else warmed him enough that he wasn't shivering and numb. His body was screaming at him at this point, wounds he hadn't even realized existed suddenly flaring up. He supposed the battle that had gotten him captured had left more marks than he'd realized.

That didn't matter. Escaping mattered.

Link felt so utterly helpless and he hated it. He'd never felt so out of control in his life. When he was plopped back on the bed and left alone to his own musings, he curled into a ball, suddenly shivering again.

He felt so, so alone. And suddenly, with the thought of Ghirahim's twisted, demented, enraged face, with the thought of how easily Ganondorf just manhandled him, he felt...

He wasn't going to say it. He wasn't going to say it.

Damn it all, he was scared. And he hated it.

He was the bearer of the Triforce of Courage and he was scared.

Burying his face into his knees, Link hugged himself and cursed himself at the same time. The tears fell silently at first before little hiccups started to accompany them. He was too tired for this. The only mercy the goddesses provided was that he was alone. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

His body felt impossibly heavy. The room felt like it was closing in. He was exhausted. His head hurt. His stomach ached from how he'd been held. Something on his back seared like fire. His knees were bothering him. He was freezing. He felt so unbelievably overwhelmed. He felt so unbelievably unsafe.

He'd always been the one to save the day. He'd been invincible with the Master Sword, though he'd learned that having others to help him was equally as important. But he had no Master Sword here. No friends. No hope of anything.

In the darkness and cold of the night, his fears consumed him, and he gave into despair. Link cried, so desperately alone. He just wanted to feel safe.

Warmth enveloped him, and he sank into it willingly, his hiccups turning into sobs. Something ran soothingly along his back, soft cloth was pressed against his face, and he found himself clinging to it desperately like a lifeline.

He needed to get himself together. He didn't care. No one was here anyway.

Then what's... why am I...?

He was too tired to process it anymore. All he knew was he felt safe.

"You'll be okay, child."

The voice was deep and gentle, whispered into his hair. Gentle pressure pressed him against whatever softness was in front of him. He heard a heartbeat.

A heartbeat. Pressure. Words. This was... he wasn't alone.

Hiccupping, Link opened his eyes, hands still clinging for dear life to patterned cloth in front of him, red hair spilling into his face as it slid over the person's shoulders.

A deep voice. A man's voice. A man wearing Gerudo--

What the hell.

Alarms rang in Link's mind as he put the pieces together. This couldn't be right this couldn't be right--

"You're safe," the voice said gently, continuing to run a hand along his back.

Link was so lost and confused and hurt and why the hell didn't anything make sense what was happening--

"I'll fix this," Ganondorf promised, and Link gave up entirely, falling apart.

[underworld-park-offical]

CRAIG: DIE, WHORE!!!!!

GREGORY: AGHHHHAGAHSGHJDguiwbulABUKBUICGDosah8CF0H()o

GREGORY: I HAVE BEEN ASSAULTED I HAVE BEEN HATE CRIMED I HAVE BEEN DESTROYED

GREGORY: THEY’VE RUINED ME!!!!

GREGORY: MY CONTOUR GREGORY: MY LOUIS VUTTION!!!  

GREGORY: YOU LITTLE SHITS 

STAN: Hey uh. You kinda cute ngl

GREGORY: Huh? I am? 

STAN: Yeah I just uhm… are you gay? 

GREGORY: Gay as fuck

STAN: Let's date

GREGORY: Okay pookie

GREGORY: Wow Stan, you are so handsome

STAN: I know honeybun

GREGORY: oh my Satan you are so hot

STAN: SATAN!? 

GREGORY: Yes snookums… I'm a demon

STAN: WHAT!!? OH MY GOD DEMON!! GET AWAY! 

GREGORY: POOKIE BEAR!! COME BACK! 

GREGORY: MY MASCARA IS GETTING RUINED!!

STAN: AGOUIFYUOIGCGTJUOVHUHIGVYUIGVBJKH STAN: (AGGRESSIVE HACKING/COUGHING NOISES)

STAN: HUHBUHUBUBUBUHBHUH

STAN:(WEEZE(r))

GREGORY: Ow what the fuck

GREGORY: That shit hit me so hard that I got transported to a damn Wattpad fanfiction

GREGORY: Fucking ow

GREGORY: You whore

CRAIG: That's what you get for dissing my merch

CRAIG: Smh my fucking head

STAN: Buhhh

STAN: What happened? STAN: What's going on?

STAN: Why is there a twink in my living room?

GREGORY: Shut up, Shane Dawson

STAN: Fuck you

GREGORY: Just so you KNOW Craig_The_Real_Tucker,

GREGORY: You just started a war you could never win

GREGORY: My account, GREGORY_CUTIE_PIE_3rd has over 14 million followers

GREGORY: They will ALL cancel you

 CRAIG: Not before I reveal your secret, bitch

GREGORY: What are you on about?

CRAIG: You’ll see what I mean when I make my 3 AM cancellation post lmao

THOMAS: What the hell is going on in there?

THOMAS: I heard a chair breaking…

TWEEK: lord of Satan, it's probably some dumb petty internet drama

TWEEK: Let's not get involved

TWEEK: Nothing is worse than getting caught in the crossfires of influencer war

THOMAS: O… okay if you say so?

THOMAS: We should probably get out of the road though…

THOMAS: Estella had us watch a bunch of safety PSAS and im scared of dying

TWEEK: You're already dead

THOMAS: I- I know but I don't want to die twice

TWEEK: You

TWEEK: You can't???????

TWEEK: HUH?????

THOMAS: TWEEKHOLYSHITLOOKOUTCAR!!!!!

TWEEK: WHAT THE FUCK IS A-

TWEEK:AGFUTDF(O&YCTGUIJHFY*OUGJHTRFUFYGUMBNCFT&FCFGHJFGHCUIOYJDCGUIOUYFFYCGHIFTYGU

THOMAS: HOLY FUCK- SHIT- FUCK- COCK FUCK- IHIYFGOIGUIFYGUIFILYHVCKFCVHLIVLUYCHVK

TOLKIEN: Oh look what your bitching made me do, Clyde!

TOLKIEN: I hit a fucking deer!

TOLKIEN: I….

TOLKIEN: ….think?

THOMAS: YOU HIT TWEE- FUCK SHIT SHIT ASS ASS! OIGFI^YGIUOGUKGUFLCTGHVJCKHG

STAN: What the fuck

STAN: What is going on outside

KYLE: Global warming? 

STAN: Other than what's not real

KYLE: Stan don't start with this

STAN: I'm just saying, if it DID exist wouldn't it make the whole world feel warm?

KYLE: IT IS!!! IT'S MELTING THE ICE CAPS!!!

STAN: That's what they want you to believe

KYLE: Okay, you’ve lost talking privileges

GREGORY: YOU WOULDN'T 

CRAIG: OH I FUCKING WOULD BITCH CRAIG: YOURE ABOUT TO BE CANCELLED IN T MINUS FUCK YOU GREGORY: NOT BEFORE YOU DIE CRAIG: BITCH I'M TOO FAMOUS TO DIE GREGORY: BULLSHIT CRAIG: NOT MY FAULT YOU USED ARDELLE WHISPIES GREGORY: YOU WHORE

STAN: SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M WATCHING SOMEONE PUKE BLOOD

GREGORY: OH MY GOD IS TOMMY OKAY? GREGORY: TOMMY BOY????

GREGORY: TOMMY BOY??? TWEEKY?????

TWEEK: uuuughhh

TWEEK: That HURT you asshole

THOMAS: YOU SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO THOSE FUCK! SHIT! SHIT! FUCK!  SAFETY PSAS BLUHGHUGJGKBVHBJUVHJKb

TOLKIEN: Oh

TOLKIEN: Look, Clyde

TOLKIEN: It's your new boyfriend

CLYDE: Aww is he okay???

TWEEK: NO I GOT HIT BY A FUCKING CAR TWEEK: YOU BROKE MY LEGS!!!

CLYDE: Well SOMEONE was fighting so hard with me that they weren't looking at the ROAD

TOLKIEN: Oh so this is MY fault now???

CLYDE: YES THIS IS YOUR FAULT CLYDE: YOU HIT HIM WITH YOUR CAR

TOLKIEN: MAYBE IF YOU WASHED YOUR DAMN HANDS THAT WOULDN'T HAPPEN

CLYDE: WHAT DOES WASHING MY HANDS HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT???

TOLKIEN: IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH IT!!!

TWEEK: CALL 911

TWEEK: MY LEGS ARE FUCKING BROKEN

THOMAS: BLUHJBHJVUIGY*HUGH TWEEK: STOP GETTING KOOL AID ON MY BROKEN LEGS YOU ASS

THOMAS: SORRYBIHGUHIJKLUHHHH

TWEEK: Wait a second

TWEEK: IS YOUR KOOL AID VOMIT HEALING MY LEGS????? TWEEK: KEEP DOING IT KEEP DOING IT YOU LIL PISSBOY

THOMAS: OKAYBLUGHUIHVJBKBFUCK SHIT BPHUIGLKNJBHI

GREGORY: TWEEKY

GREGORY: TOMMY BOY

TOLKIEN: Fuck

CLYDE: Awww man

CLYDE: You ruined my chances at asking out Tweek

GREGORY: What?

CLYDE: What?

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @zemoleinyourtrashcan)

(Nyan Neko sugar girls art made by @zemoleinyourtrashcan credits go to Nyan Neko Sugar Girls for making the og images)

(Wattpad fanfic segment written by either @smilerzart or @cattpup5, unsure)