#I don’t really keep up with watcher but

[jackklinemybeloved]

shane madej on top 5 beat down revealing his top character he’d want to be his dad and prefacing it with “I will admit this is maybe the most selfish” and then revealing his top pick as “God (Bible)” is the funniest one-two punch of a joke I’ve seen in a while

[yourqueenb]

I know this has already been discussed a bit, but the pacing in Blades is still kind of fucked imo. And before anyone accuses me of purposely looking for things to criticize 🙄 I do think the last two chapters picked up and were a lot of fun. The book overall is definitely improving gradually, with today’s chapter arguably being the best we’ve gotten. But while we had kind of a slow start to the action, I feel like they’re still flying through all of the emotional moments, friend interactions, and developmental opportunities at breakneck speed.

Like Mal taking a blade for us? That’s a huge thing and could’ve been a very poignant moment even though we were in the middle of a battle, and especially for those of us who are romancing him. And having the opportunity to check in with all of our friends after making it through the portal? Imtura apologizes for giving up on us, Mal says he was running/doing things out of guilt instead of living in one breath then brushes it off in the next, Nia and Tyril still barely acknowledge what was really going on with them throughout the year we were gone…. yet we don’t get more than 2 seconds to respond to any of that?

They’re not even giving MC the chance to react to what happened to her internally. Like it’s one thing for us not to be able to outwardly express how we’re feeling to our friends. But it’s another when even the narration doesn’t portray any sort of introspection on MC’s part. For example in the elite skill scene with Tyril, I purposely had my MC focus on being trapped and restrained in Valax’s lair because I expected to get at least a little insight on how that’s affecting her presently. And yes, we did get a couple of sentences saying we were thinking about fear, helplessness, and confusion. But it would’ve been so much better if they described MC actually reliving that moment and those emotions.

Basically, all I’m trying to say is that they really already have everything they need to make certain scenes more impactful. They just need to set them up and let them breathe, so we, the readers, can feel and appreciate them as well instead of having to fill in the blanks for everything

[luveline]

I love Hotch sm. How can someone be so handsome - esp s1 Hotch omigosh! 😭😭😭 Can we possibly get a fic where sunshine!reader (or even bombshell!reader, if you prefer instead!) loves to kiss and cuddle away her grumpy!Hotch’s frowns and scowls? 🙏🏼❤️

“C’mere.” 

“No.” 

“Come here,” you whisper, curling your finger, beckoning your boyfriend into your space. 

Aaron gives you a knowing look but eventually steps forward. He stops in front of you, all business today. He smiles less and less at work as responsibilities pile on, but you remember your smiley coworker. He used to like his job. You still love it, and you love him, but you aren’t unit chief.

You smile, daring him to smile back. 

“Did you want something?” he asks. 

His hair flops onto his forehead. You rake it back. “So long.” 

“I’m thinking about going shorter.” 

“That’s a decision for both of us,” you say, teasing while he stays incredibly still. 

You’d helped him get dressed that morning, pinching his shirt together over his undershirt, buttoning it to the neck, and bending his stiff collar away. You’d thrown the tie over his shoulders and brought it together. Tied it, tucked it, and used it as an anchor to pull him down for kissing. In your bedroom, he’d grabbed you by the face and kissed you ardently. 

Here, he only looks at you. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m stressed,” he says. 

“Can I fix it?” 

“It’s politics,” he explains away. “I’m fine.” 

You check the landing for watchers and tilt your head up to kiss his chin. He laughs softly, head angled down, allowing you better access as you pepper his cheek with kisses. You kiss until you feel his cheek apple, evidence of a smile you can’t see, and when his hand comes to the small of your back you wrap your arms around his neck and hide there.

“Does it get exhausting, being serious?” you ask. 

“Mm… no, not really.”

“I wish you had less of a propensity for misery.” 

“How can I be miserable when you’re around?” he asks, cupping your head to keep you in the curve of his neck. 

Down in the main offices, keyboards clack and phones ring. You’re slightly secluded where you stand in front of the conference room door, but not by much. You honestly don’t care if people see you kissing your boyfriend in work hours —perhaps they should make him less kissable— or holding him when you should be at your desk. They can dock your pay, if they want. 

It helps that Aaron is technically your boss. There isn’t protocol for one half of a couple becoming boss of the other one, so you get to make the rules. 

Or, Aaron does. “Alright,” he says, peeling you away from him gently. “I have things to do.” 

“One last one?” you ask, equally gentle. 

He nudges your nose with his and kisses you. Again, you persevere in kissing until he smiles. 

“No more frowning. You’ll get wrinkles,” you say.

“I have them already.” 

“And they’re contagious.” You frown deeply at him. He manages another smile before he sends you on your way. 

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Oscar Piastri Ver.

WC: 4.9K

Oscar x soulmate!reader

Summery: You live in a world where you hear your soulmate’s thoughts.

Warning: jealousy, curse words?

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Max Ver. , Lewis Ver. , Charles Ver.

You live in a world where soulmates could communicate through thoughts, it was both a blessing and a curse. After you meet your soulmate it’s definitely a blessing but before that you just get random thoughts through your mind, you can’t control what your soulmate hears and don’t know what they do and what they don’t. And the way to start controlling it, is kissing. Yes, sharing a soulmate kiss is the way to be able to control your thoughts. You’re not responsible. It’s like getting to know someone so deeply and fully but not really. No way of getting to them, you just have a few pieces of the puzzle and you have to put it together without the picture on the box.

The first time you heard his voice in your mind, you were ten years old. It was a simple thought, something about the sky being unusually grey, and it had felt like an echo of your own thoughts. You had no idea what was happening, even if it was described to you before, it still felt new and weird. But you couldn't deny the connection, it was like hearing your own thoughts, like the voice is a part of you.

As the years passed, the voice remained a constant companion. It was both thrilling and confusing to hear snippets of thoughts from someone you had never met, but know so well. His voice was calm, collected and often tinged with an air of judgments. His thoughts were never directed towards you, just his musings and reflection that drifted into your consciousness. One of the things you heard from your soulmate and helped shape your life, is his love for karting, you knew he loved racing, and so you have taken to watching motorsport, NASCAR, IndyCar, MotoGP and Formula1 to name a few. It fills your life, keeping up with these sports. But you enjoyed them all the same, your major in university was in athletic training and exercise science.

Loving sports and how athletes train and work hard for their sport has been a passion of yours. You heard your soulmate train many times, how much he struggled but preserved, and that made you want to pursue working with athletes even more. Since you've been an avid Motorsport watcher for years, you sent in your resume to all the sports' emails, all the teams in all of the different sports. And you heard back from F1 Academy, they would have you in as a trainer for Bianca, whose under McLaren, her trainer was leaving soon and she needed a new one, and that gave you the opportunity to train with them for a bit before you would take the role of her trainer.

The F1 paddock was a love with the hum of engines and the chatter of team members preparing for the day's practice sessions.

"Stay focused on your lines, Bianca, remember, it's all about consistency." You said, patting her on the back as she adjusted her helmet.

"I will, thanks." She smiled before heading to her car.

As you turned to head back to the F1 Academy McLaren garage, a stray thought intruded into your mind, clear and distinct.

’Another long day ahead. Hope we can nail the set up this time.’ You paused, momentarily disoriented. This wasn't unusual; on race days you'd hear things related to racing, and as off the last year you had a feeling that your soulmate was in the Formula serious, and more likely in Formula 1, that helped narrow down your search from the 7 billion people in the world to just the ones working in Formula series and then it narrowed it down to drivers, since he's been karting and then racing since you could hear his thoughts. You glanced around and spotted Lando Norris, laughing and chatting animatedly with a group of engineers, he's here to watch the academy race. Could it be? Lando was always so lively and easy going, it made sense that it could be him and he’s one of the single drivers without a soulmate.

After the academy race you and Bianca made it to the formula 1 Mclaren garage, and with a new sense of curiosity, you approached the garage where Oscar was standing, reviewing data on a tablet. Oscar was known for his calm and quiet demeanour and intense focus. He barely spoke, but his racing skills spoke volumes.

'Great, another adjustment, just what we need.'

You chuckled as another thought invaded your mind. softly, convinced more and more that it's Lando with each new thought. The thoughts matched Lando's personality.

"Morning, Oscar." You greeted the driver warmly.

"Morning." He looked up briefly, giving you a polite nod, his face was as unreadable as ever.

'why so serious all the time!’

The thought drifted to your mind and you couldn't help but agree. Oscar's stoic exterior was such a stark contrast to the thoughts you thought were coming from Lando. As the day went on, you found yourself listening more intently, trying to piece together the puzzle of your soulmate's identity. Each time you heard a thought you looked towards Lando, watching his animated gestures and easy smile. It all seemed to fit.

Meanwhile, Oscar worked quietly in the background, his thoughts a constant, subtle presence.

'I need to improve my lap times, focus.’ He was always focused, always pushing himself.

Weeks went by, and the thoughts in your mind continued to shape your perception of Lando as your soulmate. You somehow convinced yourself that his easy going nature and frequent thoughts aligned perfectly, but there's always that little bit of doubt in the back of your mind that kept you from talking to Lando about him being your possible soulmate.

One afternoon you were busy in the paddock working with Bianca on her fitness routine. After doing a grid jog with her, you went through a gruelling set of exercises.

'she works so hard, I wish I could tell her how much I admire her dedication.’

You smile, thinking that Lando was admiring Bianca's progress.

"Lando's such a nice guy, don't you think?" You commented to Bianca, who was catching her breath after the last exercise. Bianca looked up from her spot and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he's nice, but why bring him up now?" You shrugged brushing it

off.

"Just a thought." As both you and Bianca walked back to the McLaren motorhome, you saw Lando talking with some of the team, joking and laughing with them, you felt something warm in you. You smiled thinking it's your connection with Lando, looking around the room you spotted Oscar watching you, and as always an unreadable expression on his face.

At one point the team decided to book a restaurant and invited everyone out for a bonding dinner, and you found yourself sitting next to Lando, who you spent the night speaking and laughing with. He was as lively and as charming as ever.

"You know, I've been thinking about soulmates a lot lately." Lando said casually, taking a sip from his drink. "It's strange how we can hear their thoughts, but it's not always clear who they are."

"Tell me about it." You replied, laughing. "It's like you're trying to sort the puzzle pieces and put them in place."

‘I’ve done it.’

This thought came through more seriously than the rest. You glanced at Lando and he was making a joke with the person next to him, the thought didn't fit the mood he's in but you brushed it off. As the night went on and you and Lando shared stories and got closer to each other, Oscar observed the both of you. He knew. But as frustrated as he was, he kept it all in, his exterior calm and collected. However Oscar's patience was wearing thin, he knew you were his soulmate. It took him a while to figure it out, but your thoughts just fit in, and he seemed to receive your thoughts more than you did his. His every thought that went your way seemed to be miscommunicated and interpreted as Lando's. The more that happened the more it was harder for him to get to you.

Oscar even tried to focus all his energy to send his thoughts to you, even though he knew it’s impossible.

'it's me not Lando, I wish you could hear me clearly!’

But he watched you as you didn't react at all. But no, you were engrossed in a conversation with Lando.

‘Why can't you see me?’

His frustration was palpable, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap.

There was these moments that just left you confused, when the thoughts you

had in your mind didn't fit what Lando was doing. For an instant, you were with Bianca looking over some data, when the thought went through your mind.

'She's incredible at what she does, I wish she knew how much I respect her?’

You looked around and saw Lando smiling with his mechanic, in the middle of a story. Oscar was looking intently at the screen in front of him.

"Thanks, Bianca." You found yourself saying, feeling confused. "You too."

"Uh, what? Sure?" She replied, clearly confused as well.

The more time you spent with Lando the more you felt like there's something wrong in the back of your mind, because you and Lando continued to grow closer. Lando is fun and light-hearted, but the thoughts you heard often carried a depth and seriousness that didn't always match his personality, and the judge-ness in them you wouldn't match with him.

Oscar was reaching his breaking point, he had no idea how long he could take it, seeing his soulmate this close to his teammate left him uneasy. He knew that there's nothing more going on between the two of you but friendship, and you only felt close to him and weren't attracted to Lando. That left him wondering how you didn't notice that you weren't attracted to Lando, because the moment he noticed you and realised that you're his soulmate the attraction and connection he felt towards you was undeniable.

Oscar walked into the motorhome and saw you on one of the sofas going over some notes for Bianca, he looked around and saw how empty the room is, and decided to just gather all his courage and go up to talk to you.

"Hey, y/n." Oscar greeted and sat on the other end of the sofa, his voice breaking your concentration.

“Hey, Oscar, how are you doing?" You asked the Australian driver with a smile on your face, that his heart clenched.

"I'm good, how about you?"

"I'm alright, what's up?" You asked, still feeling a little surprised by his approach.

Oscar seemed to be second guessing what he wanted to say as he hesitated. "Do you ever feel like you're trying to tell someone something important, but they just don't get it."

You look up at him and hum as you think through his question, your eyes meeting his. There's a depth in his eyes that you haven't noticed before. "All the time." You admitted, a hint of frustration in your voice.

‘I wish you could hear what I'm really thinking.’

His thoughts followed. The connection was undeniable, but the reality was too confusing to process fully. You started to feel a growing doubt about Lando being your soulmate. Shouldn’t you know 100% when you meet your soulmate?

As the days went on, tension started growing between you, Lando and Oscar, it was all mounting to something heading somewhere but you have no idea where.

The Hungarian weekend had no F1 Academy race but you found yourself attending the race weekend with the team nonetheless. There was something in you that told you, you had to be there this weekend, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it you couldn't. And so here you are.

This weekend looks so good for Mclaren, the team has been on an incline all season, the boys have been on top this season. Gaining valuable points for the constructors championship. They were closing in on RedBull since Max seemed to be the only one gaining points at this point. Qualifying went by so well, with Lando and Oscar securing a 1-2 for the team. For some reason you found yourself on Lando's side of

the garage, and just as they were about to head out to the track for the start of the race you called out to him.

"Good luck, Lando." You said with a smile, which he returned.

"Thank you." Lando hesitated for a moment before he turned and left, you tilted your head slightly in thought, humming to yourself.

You turned to walk to the back of the garage so you're out of the way for the race, your eyes fell onto Oscar.

"Good luck, Oscar." You tell the Aussie and he gives you a nod in reply before he too heads out, his head a bit down.

'Can't I ever win?'

The thought went through your head and once again you're confused. Lando won in Miami, yes, time went on since then, but he still won. Is he not talking about racing then? But what else would he mean on a race day?

By the first corner Oscar is leading, you find yourself cheering for him more than Lando, hoping in your heart it's him that would win. Your eye kept going to the gap between Lando and Oscar throughout the race hoping it wouldn't close. Your hands were clasped together and your eyes were glued to the screens.

You knew instantly that Mclaren missed up big time when they called in Lando before they did Oscar. Oscar is leading, he should be the one prioritised, they said it's to cover Lewis, and yes there's a threat form Lewis but the Mercedes doesn't have the pace of the Mclaren, them winning in the UK was all because of their strategy, you hope that Mclaren doesn't miss up the race for the drivers just because of their strategies again.

Your heart clenched when the team asked Lando to give position to Lando and he wouldn't listen. Oscar deserved the win, he's been doing so great, not making any mistakes during the race, he was ahead for so long with a good gap between him and Lando and if it weren't for the pitstop he'd still be the one leading, he'd be winning his first grand prix. With Oscar it was always a when not an if and you hopped the when would be today.

'I need this win.’

That thought made your heart break, the voice was desperate, needy. Was it Oscar? Or was it Lando? Who is your soulmate, there's no doubt in your mind that it's one of them, but, who?

The team went on back and forth with Lando for what seemed like forever, but the stubbornness of drivers wouldn't let him follow the team order. Oscar's race engineer kept reassuring him that Lando would let him through but as the laps went on and time ticked it seemed like it wouldn't happen. All that and Oscar kept calm.

'He can't have everything, he can't make her only see him and take the win from me.’

Your heart stopped and your eyes went wide. Oh god, there's no doubt in your mind now. You know who your soulmate is. And you've been wrong for so long. You went back through every thought you had lately and there's no doubt in your mind that Oscar is your soulmate and he knew that you're his soulmate. He knew. And he's seen you getting all close and cosy with Lando, he's seen it all.

It's 3 laps to the end when Lando drastically slows down to let Oscar by, the team manipulation finally works, and Lando decides to stop being childish. This is a weekend where you're not proud to be a part of the team. They messed up everything for both Lando and Oscar, and Lando wasn't helping in the slightest. Your heart went out to Oscar and it wasn't just because he's your soulmate. It's because he deserves this win, he's worked so hard for this and he's wanted this for years, since as long as you could remember. Oscar crossed the line becoming the 115th grand prix winner. You don't know why or when, but tears gathered in your eyes and you struggled to keep them in, they just flowed. Your hand was pressed to your lips. He's the 7th winner of 2024 in 13 races, it took Oscar a season and a half to win his first grand prix. The best rookie since Lewis Hamilton. And he just won.

Hearing his team radio had you boiling with rage. His voice wasn't happy. Instead of crying of happiness, or screaming in excitement, he was apologising to the team for making this hard on them, when it was Lando that made it hard, and it was the team that put them in that position in the first place.

'I won, I freaking won, oh god. I thought I'd be happier.'

The tears you were fighting won, and slipped from your eyes in waves, you must look crazy crying while looking at the screen.

"y/n, are you okay?" One of the team members asked you in concern, you wave her off and try to muster a smile.

"Yeah, just my soulmate." You tell her and she nods in understanding.

You make your way to the back of the podiums, at the staircase, where the top three will be coming off. You stand to the side, and Lewis is the first to descend and leave followed by the Mclaren team member taking the constructor's trophy, which the team certainly didn't deserve this weekend. Following him were the two drivers, Lando followed by Oscar. Looking at Oscar now, you could tell he isn't 100% happy. You slip between everyone. Lando sees you first, he thinks you're going to him, but your eyes are focused solely on Oscar, you don't even register anything else right now. Oscar was looking at the trophy before he looked up, his eyes meeting yours before they flickered to Lando, he too thought you're here for Lando.

The guilt is eating at you. You push all your feelings aside and just throw your arms around Oscar, he huffs in surprise of your body hitting his. He wasn't expecting your hug. One of his arms wrapped around you instantly, your body buzzing, as electricity went through your body. A feeling that Oscar shared with you. One of the Mclaren team members took the trophy from Oscar not wanting it to break, and Oscar's other arm wrapped around you and he hugged you closer. Your body was flushed with his.

"You're an asshole." You mutter as you once again fight the tears.

"Me?" He chuckles and you feel the vibration rumbling through his body.

"You knew, and didn't tell me." You whine, his hands go to your back.

"I know, I'm sorry." Oscar whispers in your ear and you sigh.

"Congratulations, Oscar, I'm so incredible proud of you and happy for you." You tell your soulmate and hold him even tighter. "I know how much you've worked for this, and how much you dreamt and thought about this."

"You're my lucky charm." He tells you with a smile on his lips, you pull back and meet his eyes.

"Doubt it." You say and sniff a little, wiping the tears that left your eye away, it's then that you start to notice everyone around you. Your face flushes and you pull back from Oscar. "I uh, I should let you go do your duties."

"Yeah, you probably should." Oscar says and looks at everyone that's still around, they're trying to give you two privacy but they're un mistakenly looking and listening

to the both of you. "I'll find you after."

"Okay." Oscar walks away, there's a pip in his step that wasn't there before. Not only did he win the race, he won you.

'What a nice ass.’

You think and Oscar glances over his shoulder at you and smirks. You blush and turn and escape your embarrassment. You need to kiss already.

You couldn’t get a hold of Oscar until after the team celebration, he sees you standing to the side after he’s been sprayed and taken pictures with the team. The smile on his face widens and you see his teeth, it makes you smile. He holds the trophy in one hand and takes yours in the other before he’s pulling you through the garage, through hallways until you reach his room. He walks in before you sets the trophy down before he twists, your back hits the door slamming it shut. You manage to close your eyes before his lips are on yours. You gasp from the surprise, his lips are a bit chapped but all you can taste and smell is champagne. One of his hands cups your cheek while the other is on your waist, your hands land on his chest. You shiver feeling the muscles under your fingers. The flood gates open.

’fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this.’

’you taste like champagne.’

’you taste like cherry, your favourite chapstick.’

Oscar hums and you smile through the kiss, your nose nudging his as you tilt your head to the side deepening the kiss.

’I think we need to slow down.’

’I know.’

But you don’t slow down, Oscar only pulls you closer the hand on your waist moves under your shirt feeling your skin gets him groaning in your mouth.

’we actully need to slow down.’

With this last thought from you, you slow down the kiss. When Oscar goes to pull away you can’t help but chase after his lips. He chuckles and presses three kisses to your lips before he pulls away and takes half a step back, you lean your head on the door and take your soulmate in.

”You’re so hot.” You tell him, taking him in, in his race suit, his fireproof shirt tight on his shoulders, chest and biceps.

“Good to know.” Oscar smirks, his tone sassy, and you meet his eyes, the twinkle in them that you see now, fits with the thought you have in your mind.

”Huh, interesting.” You mutter.

”What?”

"Nothing, just finish what you have to before we can go." You tell Oscar, patting his chest before you kiss his cheek, turn and leave the room, knowing that the team must have other things to film with him still.

After all, Oscar Piastri is a Grand Prix winner. Oscar does end up filming a few things for Mclaren social media accounts. You stand in the garage with one of the photographers, he shows you some of the pictures he took today on his camera, when Lando comes up to the two of you.

"Any good pictures of me?" He asks with a smile, honestly it looked a tad bit forced, but he's had one hell of a race today.

"Yeah, a bunch." You tell him and he looks at the screen as the photographer flips through the display and shows Lando the pictures he took today. You point out the ones you like and talk about the moments those pictures were taken, but soon the photographer had to go, do some editing for them to be posted on social media.

You and Lando stood there for an awkward silence, you've never shared an awkward moment with Lando before, but the reason you started getting close to him in the first place is because you thought he's your soulmate. Not that you want to stop being his friend or anything.

"So, Oscar is your soulmate?" Lando asked, even though he knows Oscar is your soulmate, every team member was talking about it, and he's seen the hug, he's seen the smile on Oscar's face, how in peace and content he was.

"Yeah, turns out he is." You tell him with a smile, just the thought of Oscar gets you smiling now. There's a beat of silence.

"Did you think I was your soulmate?" Lando asked timidly, his voice dropped and you almost missed what he said, you bit your bottom lip slightly feeling a bit anxious, and guilty.

"Yeah, I-uh I did." You admit to Lando and you watch as his face drops. "But Oscar being my soulmate won't change anything, I enjoy your company and I enjoy being your friend."

"I think it changes a few things... not that Oscar being your soulmate is a bad thing, but you only getting close to me to see if I'm your soulmate." Lando says and he looks away to hide the hurt he's feeling, despite what some people think, Lando sometimes struggles with making friends, and he doesn't see them all the time, even Max F. But you're always there, whenever Bianca is racing you're there, and with the races for the academy being on F1 race weekends this year, it means you're there for half of the season, more than he can say about anyone else in his circle of friends.

"But it doesn't have to." You try to plead with him, he's had a rough day and the last thing you want is to make it even tougher. "Lando you have to believe that I enjoy being your friend, I should have realised sooner that you're not my soulmate, but I think I still would've gotten to know you better anyways."

"I don't know." He didn't sound too sure, but it's better than nothing. You'll take what you get, maybe after he calms down and has some time to think he'll be okay again.

"I understand what you're saying." You give Lando a small smile and put your hand on his arm in comfort. "Take the time you need to think about what you want to do, and I'll respect your decision, but just know that I like having you as a friend and I would like to keep you as a friend."

Lando only manages a nod, you see Oscar from over his shoulder.

‘Are you waiting for me?’

‘Yeah, but take all the time you need!’

"Are you going back to Monaco today?" You ask Lando, he nods.

"Okay, I'll see you next week then." You tell him, smile and walk away.

"Everything okay?" Oscar asks once you're out of the garage and heading to the car park.

"Yeah, I'll tell you later."

You end up on the sofa in Oscar's room, you're sharing a room with another girl, and his room is bigger. It was the perfect place for you two to talk.

"I have a question." You say, and look at Oscar, his hand is in yours as you play with his fingers.

"Go ahead." You glance at your hands before you clear your throat and ask.

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"I wanted you to figure it out like I did, I didn’t think it would take you that long, and the feelings you get when you know who your soulmate is, that's a feeling I wanted you to have." Oscar told you softly.

"Yet, all I felt was guilt for not figuring it out earlier." You admit and meet his eyes. You wished he told you earlier, it would have made things easier.

"I-I guess, I haven't thought about it like that." Oscar frowns, he didn't think of it like that, but he remembers figuring it out, and how warm and bubbly he felt then, it's a feeling unlike any other he's ever felt before. "But I don't want you to feel bad or guilty, I understand how hard it is."

“But I’ve gotten so close to Lando thinking that he’s my soulmate, and you’ve seen all of that, and now he’s hurt feeling a bit used.” You say and a small pout makes its way on your lips.

“I feel bad about that, I’m not going to lie, seeing you with him made me doubt you being my soulmate a bit, but I knew you’d know it’s me eventually.” Oscar said. “And Lando would have done the same thing if he thought you’re his soulmate, his emotions are just on a high, next week everything will be back to normal.”

”You think so?”

”I know so.”

"Wait, how did you figure it was me?" It just occurred to you.

"I heard you thinking about Bianca, and I knew you were studying to be an athlete trainer, plus since we were young I heard you think about racing." Oscar tells you, and you roll your eyes at how good his detective skill is.

"I wonder who's fault it is." Oscar chuckles, before he shrugs, his eyebrows raised, acting all innocent. He practically is the reason you're doing what you're doing right now.

"I just put two and two together."

"And were you sure?"

"100%, except a couple days you were so close with Lando, but then I heart your thoughts about that meal in hospitality and then you were talking about it with Bianca."

"Now I'm feeling even more shitty." You groan and throw your head back, melting into the sofa. Oscar smiles and pulls on your arm, you raise your head to look at him.

"Don't, every soulmate meeting is different." Oscar says and brings your hand up to his lips for a couple of kisses. You sit in silence for a few minutes.

"Right, Oscar, did you call you mum?"

"Shit!" Oscar scrambles off to get his phone and call his mother, he'll get a telling for not calling her yet.

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💪 bagnus-murnsides

happy rise and grind reclaimers wednesday monday

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its literally friday ?

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

HAPPY RISE AND GRIND RECLAIMERS WEDNESDAY MONDAY FRIDAY

👖 lactosewarrior5000 Follow

#the additions are KILLING ME #laugh rule #tumblr days of the week #scheduled

(2,358 notes)

📔 sheesh-creesh

[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

#bureau business #inoculated #txt

(0 notes)

🔎 ango-mcdango

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🌱 merlehighchurch1

give me that username lup. stop impersonating me

🌱 merlehighchurch Follow

no

(893 notes)

🍵 potion-master-69

CALLOUT FOR GARFIELD THE DEALS WARLOCK

so im not trying to start anything, but it has to be said. garfield has been collecting blood from various people and using it for nefarious purposes, as well as just kind of being a dick.

receipts under the readmore vv

Keep Reading

#callout #gore tw #lilian don’t look

(41 notes)

🔎 ango-mcdango

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👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

Life is meaningless and nothing matters. Everything sucks and we should all just give in. Submit to the Hunger.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

this is exactly what ligma was saying a few years ago

👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

What is Ligma? Some minor god you think will save you when your plane is consumed?

🌱 merlehighchurch1

LIGMA BALLS OHHHHHHHH

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ohmygod you killed him

(53,007 notes)

🍑 juicy-wizard-official

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A picture of the moon I took with my new camera! If you look really closely, you can see the B.O.B. on the left side.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

🚀 cap-n-port Follow

You can't do that here

(68,913 notes)

🌱 merlehighchurch1

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hey guys! it's me, merle hightower highchurch. just wanted to come on here and say that i'm a total loser and lup is the coolest bitch alive

🌱 merlehighchurch1

STOP

#this is elder abuse

(1,002 notes)

💀 reaper-kravitz-official

.

#my coworkers are driving me CRAZY rn #what do you mean it was 'just a little bit' of necromancy #WE ARE LITERALLY REAPERS LIKE HELLO #and now rq will be pissed at me. great #vent #do not rb

(2 notes)

🕸️ krav-dementia-raven-way

i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fu

#ohhhhh my god accidentally posted on the wrong blog #i didn't realize until BOTH of my coworkers had seen it fuck me #i am dating one of their brothers as well so #dreading our next work meeting and my date plans tonight

(1 note)

🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

i need to pick up taako by the scruff of his neck and shake him around

[imaginesheaven]

Pilot!Reader x TF 141

Friendship Headcanons

Warnings: cursing

Words spread like fire about your amazing skills in the air. Every team that got assigned to you and your helicopter comes back home safe and sound.

Captain Price demands your transfer to his team after you had the honor to do a mission with the Task Force 141. He only chooses the best of the best to work with.

“John! You can’t demand every good soldier I have for your team.” – “Laswell, I can and I will~”

Needless to say, but Laswell is more than pissed since you are one of the best pilots if not the best pilot on the base, but Price always get what he wants.

With your quite sassy and funny demeanor you win the hearts of the tough men rather quickly.

“Dear Task Force 141, this is your pilot speaking. If you look to the right side of the helicopter you can see Eagle 3 challenging us to a race. So, please keep seated and hold on for dear life because shit is about to get real~”

The team making bets between you and the other pilot of Eagle 3. In the end, you always win.

At first the team makes fun of you naming your helicopter Valkyrie, but after a little nosedive after a hard mission they stop very quickly. They really made the mistake of underestimating you and your helicopter.

Valkyrie actually was ready to be dropped out from the military due to old age. It was love on first sight for you. It took weeks to convince Laswell but, in the end, you got the old birdy and brought her back to her glory. It came in handy that you are literally blessed with a mechanic soul.

In your free time you love to try out new things to improve Valkyrie for the next mission. Gaz really wants to help every time, but ends up standing in the way most of the time.

“Can you give me the screwdriver for the Fillister Head screws?” – “Uh…. this one?” – “Nope, there most be another one.” – “This one?” – “… You know, Gaz, the windows are in need for a good cleaning. Could you do that for me?”

You hit him with the puppy eyes and Gaz goes to clean the windows like you asked. In the end he is just happy to be there with you :)

Soap is really fascinated with the weapons Valkyrie carries for the missions. You always take your time to explain and show him everything. Here and there he is also allowed to help you out during missions to kill a few of the enemies. That makes him literally so happy like a little boy in the candy shop.

Nevertheless, you use every single chance to mess with Soap. Sometimes Price joins you just for the fun of it.

“Get away from my baby, Soap.” – “I’m not doing anything!” – “You are way too close and I don’t like how you look at her.” – “What the hell?” – “Do what (Y/N) says, Soap!” – “But, Captain!” – “No buts.”

Gaz and Ghost know exactly what is going on and try to hold in their snickering.

With you there is literally not a single dull moment before, during and after missions. The boys love and life for those moments.

Once you left behind one of the soldiers because he got on your nerves before take-off.

“Eagle 2, where are you going?” – “Uh, Urzikstan.” – “You forgot one of the soldiers. He’s banging on the window here.” – “Yeah, we kind of had a fight and he’s an asshole so I kind of had to kick him out. I’m sure Eagle 3 has enough space for him.” – “Eagle 2, you can’t do that. Cancel takeoff clearance!” – “Oops, I accidentally put the throttles to TO/GA. See you later alligator~”

Or the other time on the way back to the base.

„Watcher 1, we request medical at the gate. Uh, we beat up another stowaway…” – “Eagle 2… YOU DID WHAT?!” – “Uh… yeah, we found him halfway back to base and he refused to leave the helicopter so we beat him up and tied him like a present gift on Christmas morning…” – “I am not dealing with this! Land like always and contact ground for medical aid.”

To Laswell’s displeasure you take your sweet time after missions to come back to the base. Here and there you make a little stop at the next fast-food chain.

“I think the drive-through will not do it. Someone has to go out and order at the counter…”

Those encounters with Laswell over the comm create a quite close bond between the two of you over the time.

“Look, who’s back!” – “Don’t even say it, Watcher 1.” – “You were supposed to land five hours ago?!” – “You should be happy we came here at all~” – “How about you land on time for once. That’ll make me happy.” – “We got burgers. Do you want one?” – “YOU GOT WHAT, EAGLE 2?!” – “Burgers…” – “… You will be the death of me … Get them over here fast, Eagle 2.”

Of course, Kate would never admit it out loud that you are her favorite pilot.

“Oh, Eagle 2!” – “Shut up and let me concentrate!” – “Five hours late again. At least butter this landing.” – “We are not Eagle 3. At least we know how to land.” – “Let’s learn how to come in on time next… Did you secure the goods?” – “Sure, Watcher 1. Your usual order coming right to you~”

Captain Price lost count how often you saved their lives with Valkyrie. They trust you blind and know you would do anything to bring them back home. But during one special mission you show how the team really mean to you.

“(Y/N)! We need air support! We can’t get to the evac point!”, the team needs your help, but you ran out of ammo a few minutes ago. You know exactly that they won’t make it without your help. This is the hardest and easiest decision at the same time you have to make.

“It was a good time we had together, Valkyrie”, you say your goodbye to the helicopter before you let crash your baby into the pack of enemies.

“NO! (Y/N)!”, the men are devastated to see Valkyrie go down knowing exactly you must be in the helicopter. Their hearts shatter. They couldn’t save you.

“Boys, come on! We need to be at the evac point in five minutes. Eagle 3 will get us!”, you stumble around the house corner quite out of breath. “You are alive!”, they can’t believe their eyes.

“Not much longer!”, you grab the first one by the hand to drag them into the direction where Eagle 3 will collect you. Once in the helicopter you are all safe and sound for now and on the way back to the base.

“(Y/N) … you crashed Valkyrie … for us?”, Gaz looks at you with his big puppy eyes. You only shrug with your shoulder not trying to think about the helicopter trashed into thousand pieces, “I really don’t want to talk about her.”

It might sound strange, but you are mourning Valkyrie like the helicopter would have been a real soldier. You had spent so much time with her. She was part of your family.

Of course, the team would make it up to you as good as they can. So, one day Gaz comes up to you with a blindfold, “Put it on.” You shake your head immediately, “Not for anything in this world.”

He defeats you with your own weapons. The puppy eyes. You put the blindfold on and get dragged over the whole base until you lose track of where you are actually going. “Oh my god, Gaz! I’m getting really sick.”

“TADA!”, he pulls down the blindfold. For a second you were blinded from the sunshine, but then it hits you. “We can’t give you Valkyrie back, but how about Valkyrie II!”, Soap exclaims pointing at the new helicopter. The whole team looks so damn proud of themselves for gifting you an even better helicopter.

“Thank you, boys. You are too sweet”, you get wrapped up in a big bear hug. “So, you know, Laswell doesn’t want you to know she gave us the money to purchase the new helicopter”, Price tells you with a smile on his lips.

“I chose the interior of the helicopter and the color!”, Gaz exclaims and points at Valkyrie II.

“I was responsible for the weapons! I can show you everything!”, Soap adds.

“I coordinated everything”, Price shrugs his shoulders.

You look at Ghost. He holds up an air freshener, “I want it to smell good.”

[bedcorpse]

“oh its all about paying artists until you have to foot the bill” actually it’s more about doing zero market research and jumping to an almost exclusively behind-a-paywall method of content creation. if they had announced that they were doing new series’ with a platform like nebula, that they would be doing kickstarters to fund shows a-la starkid, or that they would be adopting a world of wonder model where they release content 1-2 months early for paying subscribers (but it still eventually is posted for free), i don’t think the backlash would be this severe.

of course creatives deserve to be fairly compensated, and i empathize (as a creative working two jobs to make ends meet) with El Capitalismo ruining everything. but instead of figuring out what their audience wants and trying to prioritize that, they keep trying to ball on a buzzfeed budget despite the fact that leaving buzzfeed for creative freedom means giving up some of the luxuries (cough cough Steven Lim’s Fucking Gold Leaf).

tldr i sympathize deeply with watcher not wanting to lay off employees or sacrifice the “tv level quality” they’ve been trying to uphold. however. they never stopped to consider that most of their fanbase fell in love with their content when they made most of their videos in a basement at buzzfeed with a static camera, and don’t want to (or straight up can’t) foot the bill for expenses that they don’t even really care about.

[radioactive-mouse]

i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

[faerygardenparty]

Sorry for talking about this again but I keep seeing people go “oh don’t you think artists deserve to be paid for their work??” in response to the watcher shit and it’s so…. disingenuous, by that logic we should all be fully in support of NFT artists and YouTubers who sell shitty online courses for exorbitant amounts of money, one of my biggest issues with this is that a subscription service is an inherently predatory business model that typically relies on the customer forgetting they signed up, making them jump through so many hoops to unsubscribe in the hopes that they’ll give up and keep giving them money, and making the refund process just as difficult as the unsubscribing process so the service can keep the money they scammed out of the customer

You also really can’t guilt people into paying for such a highly unreasonable price, Hulu is $7 a month, $2 with a student discount, and has over 1,200 shows and 1,300 movies, even rooster teeth at its peak had a lot more content to offer to their subscribers than watcher does, even dropout, which I’ve seen far too many people compare this to, has over 20 shows, many of which with multiple seasons, the longest of which being dimension 20 with 21 seasons and over 200 episodes, the other service I’ve seen people bring up is nebula, which has 175 content creators on it and is a dollar cheaper than watcher tv, watcher does not have nearly enough content to justify the $6 a month fee

I should also point out nebula has a membership option in which you pay a one time fee and get access to the service forever without ever having to pay again, which, yes, while it may be expensive, it’s also much better in my opinion than a predatory subscription-based model

This is also not an artistic decision, it is a business decision, artists can make shitty business decisions too, it doesn’t make them exempt from criticism just because they’re an artist

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[mochiwrites]

“G!” Scar grins as he sees the other approaching his train. He jumps down the ladder, landing with wobbly feet as he makes contact with the ground. “Just the birdie I was looking for!”

Grian lifts a brow, “Oh? What a coincidence. I was looking for you as well.” His wings flutter and twitch in response, folding neatly against his back. “Got any diamonds to spare?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve run out of diamonds again,” Scar tuts as he shakes his head in disapproval. Grian grimaces in answer, earning a disappointed sigh from the zoo keeper. “For shame, sir!”

“Just be happy I’m not skimming from the top of Ore Mountain again.” Grian squints at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I borrow a few or what?”

Scar makes a show of thinking about it, dramatizing his hum and tapping his chin. “You happen to have amayzin’ timing, considering I had something to give you.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head, looking at the other with curiosity. “Do I get the diamonds too?”

“Oh yes, of course, of course!” Scar joyfully nods, his warm smile not doing a single thing to cover up his salesman voice (as Grian has so lovingly dubbed it). “This would be an exchange of goods, after all! It’s only fair you’re compensated for your time!”

Grian stares at him for a second, eyes just shy of a squint. He doesn’t think there’s really an exchange going on, considering he’s not giving Scar anything in return; besides his presence, that is. He could point out to Scar that this isn’t an equal trade (barely a trade at all, really), but where would the fun in that be? He kind of wants to see where Scar is going with this.

Plus if he really feels bad about whatever this is, Grian can always find some way to repay Scar later.

Wings fluttering against his back, he shrugs. “Okay.”

“Great!” Scar beams at him, clapping his hands together. “Alright, I need you to stay perfectly still, no twitching a single feather, mister! Oh, and close your eyes too!” he directs the avian, earning an odd look from Grian.

“O…kay..?” Doing as told, Grian closes his eyes, curious. It’s definitely some surprise Scar has for him. But what is it? And why? He hasn’t missed any birthdays or anniversaries, has he? Maybe he can take a little peek… Scar never said anything about keeping his Watcher Eyes closed.

As if reading his thoughts, he hears Scar exclaim, “Yes that includes your funky magic eyeballs too, you pesky bird!”

Drat.

Grian sighs, resolving himself to the agony of waiting patiently. How horrible. Scar should feel terrible for making him wait like this. The build up is killing him! He’s eager with anticipation!

His breath stills as he feels Scar’s presence get closer to him. Grian can feel the warmth of his exhales as he releases them, all gentle and soft. Scar makes a few concentrated noises, and Grian can imagine the way his tongue pokes out from his mouth just slightly. He waits before feeling something being carefully set on his head, gentle palms combing through his hair. The feeling is followed by soft lips against his nose, as well as a little laugh as he scrunches his face.

“Okay, now open your eyes!”

Grian squints against the sunlight as his eyes open again, having to blink a few times before he looks at Scar in front of him. It takes him a second to notice anything different, setting a hand on top of his hair as he looks at the zoo keeper. He feels soft petals under his fingers, and finds that Scar has a crown made of sunflowers nestled in his hair. “Flower crowns?” he asks, confused.

“I made us matching ones!” Scar exclaims, his smile growing impossibly larger. “See I got the idea from Pearl after talking with her about doing a gift shop for the zoo—because you can’t have a zoo and no gift shop, that’s criminal!— and then bayum, it hit me! I’ll sell flower crowns as one of the items since I’ve got sniffers!” He gestures with his hands as he speaks, and Grian is captured by every word from the brilliant man. “I don’t even have a single enclosure of the zoo done yet but oh Grian I got so inspired, I had to do something with the idea!”

Grian can’t help his fond look as he sets a hand on his hip. “So you made some flower crowns?”

Scar eagerly nods, “Yup! I made them with you in mind so… who better to share the first try with than my pretty bird?”

The feathers on Grian’s wings fluff up at that. “You’ve got to be the biggest sap I know,” he sighs, although he finds the gesture incredibly sweet. “Though I have to ask, how is this an exchange? I’m not giving you anything.”

“Sure you are,” Scar argues, turning to set down his ender chest. “I get customer feedback and a free excuse to see you smile!” He looks at Grian, pleased, before ducking down to dig into his ender chest.

Grian decides right then and there that he’s going to kiss this man silly. Then he’s going to properly repay him.

(And if Grian leaves him a small arrangement of flowers on top of the shulker box of sniffer eggs? Well. Scar knows exactly who they’re from.)

[the-hipster-nugget]

Scott character analysis

Scott is interesting cuz he is clearly very smart. He is clearly strong, intelligent, and resilient. His will to live is so strong it pissed off the watchers. He has convinced himself and others that he’s a person driven by logic, BUT I think it’s completely the opposite. I think Scott is a very emotion driven person, and really relationship oriented.

If Scott was as calculating and game-focused as he thinks he is, I don’t think he would form the close bonds he does each season. He very clearly cares about all his alliances deeply, and he’s extremely loyal. To me, even though Scott is so good at this game I think he ends up losing (almost) every time because he truly cares more about his relationships than he does victory. He doesn’t want people to know that, but he’s always thinking about other people.

I think he’s selfless by nature, but he knows selflessness and love gets him nowhere in these games. He knows he can’t be soft, so he toughens up and puts on a game face— becoming the witty and sarcastic winner we know him as. He knows it’s the goal of the game to win, so despite the fact all he wants is to cherish time with his friends— he’s forced to wish for more. To wish for a victory he doesn’t want alone.

It’s why he is so calm and so consistently content with losing. In third life, when he dies he finally gets his real wish— which is a happy quiet life with his husband. In double life, he goes at his own whim— because in the end he cared more about Pearls happiness than his own. In limited life, he is fine at dying by the hands of his friend and partner. “My own mean gill, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He was never upset about losing. He didn’t want to win, he’s never wanted that. All he’s ever wanted is to spend time with his loved ones.

Hopes and wishes, dreams that will come true, that’s the essence of the tarot card “star” which Scott is often assigned as a winner of the series. It fits him, because he is a character who is wishing for more than the watchers ever wanted of him. He wishes to live— not because he wants to win— but because he wants to spend time with his friends just a little bit longer. Scott just wants to keep loving, because that’s all he’s ever wished for.

[ciderjacks]

Like I’m sorry I just really can’t get over how many of you said outright that you didn’t consider their art and effort worth anything, that you preferred when they didn’t have creative freedom due to financial strain, that their employees are “unnecessary”. What the hell?

Ykwat I hope that watcher succeeds and does better than they’ve ever done before and never associates with their fanbase again. And tells all of you to fuck yourselves. And cancels their lives and doesn’t refund anyone. Yall suck. The way you people are acting is some shit beyond shameful.

[sserpente]

For Old Times' Sake

Synopsis: When your landlord drags you before Lord Gortash to settle your debts, your life gets turned upside down. It is not the fear of imprisonment that paralyses you at Wyrm’s Rock—it is him. Enver Flymm, as you’d once known him, a shy and clever boy and your only childhood friend. Will he recognise you and show mercy, help you out?

A/N: My obsession with Gortash is getting out of hand. I don’t think I care.

Words: 2853 Warnings: angst, homelessness, mentions of death and abuse

The number on your tax letter was bright red—quite possibly scribbled on there with the previous tenant’s blood. Three thousand and five hundred gold pieces. That was more money than you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m a little short.”

The half-orc—your landlord—rolled his eyes. “By how much?”

“Um…about three thousand and four hundred ninety-nine gold pieces.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m not, I…I am trying to find work right now. I was preoccupied with organising a funeral and scraped together the last of my savings to buy my parents a coffin. I will start paying off the debts and all the money I owe if you give me just a little bit more time…”

The half-orc scoffed. “Funny, that’s what your parents always said too. Just a little bit more time. I’m done playing games, kid. In times like this, the Fist can’t let this keep happening. You pay your rent, you pay your taxes, you contribute to the city’s safety—and you face the consequences if you cannot do so.”

It was this new Steel Watch mainly that ate up most of the tax money. An entire Foundry had sprouted from the ground down by the docks seemingly overnight. They were rather scary automatons and they were not known for their mercy.

“It’s Friday,” the half-orc continued. “We are settling this once and for all. Your missing payments are biting a hole into my coin purse.”

Your eyes widened. Each Friday, Lord Gortash—the city’s new hero, protector, and saviour—held public hearings where citizens could voice requests, concerns, or other pleas. You’d never seen the man in person. He looked handsome enough on the posters, you’d read about his good deeds and heard about his generosity. But apart from that, he was a stranger to you. You’d known a young boy once called Enver though—Gortash sharing the same first name could only bring you luck, no?

Perhaps…perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. You could make your case—explain to him that when your parents died from sickness, the remaining debts from all the medication that didn’t help in the end had been passed on to you.

You inherited a small house with broken windows, corroding wood and a serious rat problem in the cellar rendering food rations useless. Not that you had many to spare. You’d always wondered what a full stomach felt like.

“Will you come with me willingly or do I need to get a Fist?”

“This really isn’t necessary, saer. As soon as I’ve found work—”

“I am done making exceptions. We are leaving for Wyrm’s Rock. Now.”

You didn’t want to make a scene, not here. Not with the Steel Watchers within reach. With a sigh, you folded the letter from your landlord and handed it back to him, then followed him through the Lower City to Wyrm’s Rock as if you were walking to the gallows.

The place was packed. You’d expected little else. Lord Gortash was very much in demand. There was a long queue when you arrived, several Fists positioned at every possible entrance along with some patrolling Steel Watchers to ensure no one cut the line.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes, ten minutes into twenty. With every passing second, you felt the nervousness tightening its iron grip around you more. The punishment for evading rent was eviction, for one, and imprisonment for another. But perhaps Lord Gortash would hear you out.

It took another ten minutes before you were called up to the audience chamber. As if he was worried you’d try and make a run for it now, the half-orc grabbed your upper arm, dragging you with him. At the far end of the hall, two Steel Watchers were positioned on either side of a pretty throne in front of which stood a handsome man with short black hair and elegant black armour.

“Lord Gortash…thank you for your time,” your landlord began. He bowed—and so did you. Gortash’s eyes skimmed over the half-orc with mild interest before moving on to you. Dark orbs boring into yours, stirring…recognition within you. His face…you could have sworn you’d met him before.

“How can I be of service, hmm?” he asked with a sly smirk. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest. That scar on his chin…that little boy you knew from your childhood…a boy named Enver…

“E-Enver? Enver Flymm? Is…is that you?”

Your landlord’s head whipped in your direction, the disrespect apparent, even more so when Gortash began to frown. Who were you to call the archduke by his first name? But this…this was different. You knew him. He was…or used to be…your friend.

“It’s me!” You told him your name, excitement washing over you like a wave. “R-remember me? We used to play together as kids. You…you just disappeared one day. I never found out what happened to you and your parents wouldn’t talk to me…”

Your landlord cleared his throat before Gortash could answer—the archduke’s face, however, was painted with recognition. He did remember you.

“Whatever, Lord Gortash, this…tenant of mine has been behind with paying rent for months. I am currently missing nearly four thousand gold pieces which she claims she’ll be able to ‘pay back soon as soon as she finds work’.”

Enver knew your family was poor, they always had been. He himself didn’t have a lot growing up. While other kids would brag about the new toys that they got for their birthday, Enver got a beating out of asking for some simple tools for his special day. He’d always been a tinkerer.

“I see. I am going to deal with this. Would you excuse us for a moment?” Gortash finally spoke.

Taken aback, your landlord nodded. Dismissed. You breathed out audibly. Good, this was good. You’d get to tell him your side of the story and he’d help you, he had authority now, he had the power to…

“You have chosen a criminal career then?”

Your heart dropped. “C-criminal? I’m not a criminal.”

“You refuse to pay rent. And tax evasion too?”

“I don’t refuse. I simply…I can’t, I have no money left. You…you remember my parents, right? They passed two ten days ago. We spent all we had on medication and healers and that was after they started struggling with their health. They couldn’t work as much anymore and so we fell behind.”

“Hmm.”

He tilted his head and for just a brief second, you saw the young boy flash before your eyes again. You couldn’t help but smile despite your sad circumstances. Gods, you were a childhood friend of the archduke… Now that your parents were gone…perhaps you wouldn’t be all alone after all.

“I…I thought about you a lot. You were my only friend back then. I always assumed your parents sent you off to some private school outside the city to give you better opportunities or…or that an incurable sickness claimed you. Just earlier today I thought I once knew a little boy who would have loved these Steel Watchers. And now it turns out it was you all along. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I put my talent to good use.”

“You did. I remember when we were little kids we would roam the streets and search the city for old metal parts. You’d tinker away and build your own toys with them. This one time you made me a dancing ballerina, do you remember? You…you found this old music box a merchant had abandoned. The music was all distorted at first but…you made it work again. That was the best toy I ever had.” You paused. All of a sudden…you were mourning him. Mourning your childhood friend you thought you had lost for good.

“What happened to you? Where did you go?”

Gortash’s brown eyes locked with yours. But then, his expression hardened. “That matters not. Your landlord expects a solution for his dilemma.”

Your face fell. “You…you could help.”

“I could,” he mused. “But I am the archduke of Baldur’s Gate now, my dear. If I start waiving laws in favour of an old acquaintanceship, people are going to start questioning my reliability.”

“But—“

“Your landlord is in the right. If you cannot afford rent, he has the right to evict you. I am going to spare you the dungeons—for old times’ sake.”

“Enver…”

“That is Lord Gortash to you. We are not children anymore.”

Your lips parted. “Is…is that it?”

“Yes. You are dismissed.”

You didn’t even notice your tears until they wet your cheeks. You turned around without a word of goodbye, without a formal bow. Your landlord was seemingly pleased as you rushed out. You didn’t wait for Enver to tell him the good news.

As of right now, you were homeless. And even though you hadn’t seen your only friend in years, against all reason, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You just didn’t understand. Enver used to be such a sweet boy. Innocent, full of visions and dreams, shy, quiet. Everyone who knew him including his own parents labelled him as ‘odd’ but you knew better.

Now, he was the reason you’re homeless. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. Your landlord was the reason you were homeless. Enver had simply honoured the very rules set in place before he became the archduke. Perhaps he was right and he couldn’t make an exception—it would be unfair on others. He could have sent you to prison but he didn’t. That had to be enough.

As you made your way through the Lower City past merchants, civilians, and Steel Watchers a few weeks later, wondering if you’d be able to have a meal today, the sudden tumult right in front of Basilisk Gate had you pause. You frowned, hurrying toward the crowd of people that had formed before the gallows. Three men with nooses around their necks stood on the wooden platform, in front of them, facing the citizens, stood Enver.

What in the hells was happening?

“…so let this be a fair warning. These are the consequences of disobedience. I am not going to tolerate disrespect. I have led this city to glory—and I ask for recognition and your trust in return.”

Your frown deepened when Enver gave a court nod to the hangman. The very moment the trap doors gave way under the prisoner’s feet was the moment you looked away—but not before the archduke’s eyes met yours.

“I am telling you,” you heard a citizen whisper to another, “there’s something foul about this man. He acts like a bloody Banite.”

A Banite. You swallowed. That was a serious accusation. Surely, a sweet boy like Enver wouldn’t turn to Bane worship.

“My words exactly,” the other citizen responded, “I heard he is friends with the chief editor of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette and only what he approves of gets printed.”

A scoff. “Talk about propaganda.”

You’d heard enough. With your heart in your mouth, you stepped away, attempting to disappear in the crowd and perhaps ask for a gold piece or two. You flinched when a Fist touched your shoulder and flipped you around to face her.

“Lord Gortash has requested your presence. You will follow me.”

“W-why? What does he want?”

She didn’t respond. And if you refused to follow her? You didn’t want to find out.

You hadn’t expected to return to Wyrm’s Rock any time soon, nor that you’d be led up the stairs to Lord Gortash’s private quarters. The place was imposing. And of course, when you spotted him behind his desk, he was accompanied by two Steel Watchers.

“Ah, hello, my dear. Have you been faring well?” he mused. You could have been mistaken—but it was almost like you sensed scornfulness swinging in his voice.

“I am homeless. How do you think I’m faring?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

“Oh, don’t give me that reproachful tone. We are all bound by laws and order, my dear.”

You blinked. “What do you want from me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“You do?” Hesitation mixed with suspicion. After seeing him hang people in public today…you weren’t sure a proposition would do you any good.

“It’s quite simple, really. Serve me and I shall give you a roof over your head.”

“Serve you?”

“I’ve had my Watchers keep an eye on you. It is quite noble of you not to resort to stealing. Surely, you understand why the citizens of Baldur’s Gate are becoming more and more hesitant to spare a few coins, though.”

You’d read in the Gazette only yesterday that the tax rates were going to be increased yet again starting next month. Both the Fist and the newspaper itself had become very vocal about their dismay when it came to the poor and those in need. It was concerning—terrifying, even.

“Being archduke comes with a lot of responsibilities. My hands are full with political duties, I need people around me to run errands for me and assist me. What do you say? For old times’ sake?” he continued.

“You want me to work for you?” Only weeks ago, you would have jumped at the opportunity. You and your childhood friend reunited at last. Him being the archduke, you being his assistant, his right hand. Now, however, the request left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You did not agree with his cold-hearted choices to hang usurpers. There was always a more peaceful solution. Imprisonment, for one.

“Do you know what people are whispering, Env-…Lord Gortash? They have suspicions you could be a Banite. You hung people for disobedience! How is that a fair judgement? How can I work for you if this is how you—”

“One of them plotted an assassination against me. You have no right to question my rule, my dear. Lest you’ll end up like them.”

Your lips parted. He didn’t even deny it. He…he didn’t deny he was worshipping Bane… Damn all appropriation. “Enver, please, what happened to you? You used to be such a sweet boy, you comforted me when the other kids picked on me, you—”

“My parents, my dear, sold me to a Warlock. I disappeared because I was shipped off the hells to serve a devil called Raphael in his House of Hope. I faced years of degradation and abuse until I finally managed to escape. I had nothing, I was nothing. The Black Lord picked up the pieces that were left of me and made me what I am today. And I am giving you a chance now. You have potential. Serve me and we can rise together.”

You blinked, processing his words. Sold? To a devil? No wonder his parents had refused to speak about him after his sudden disappearance. The torment he must have experienced…you could almost understand why a tyrannical god like Bane would infiltrate his dreams and promise him power and glory.

“I…I don’t know about this, Enver. This…this is tyranny.”

“In times like this, tyranny is what people need. They don’t listen—and they need a strong leader to help them make the choices that are best for the city. As of right now, free will is their greatest enemy.”

“Is that truly what you think?”

Enver’s expression darkened. He took a menacing step forward. All of a sudden, you felt so much smaller than before.

“I will not have you belittle my faith.” He paused. “I expect an answer. Now.”

You were torn—way too much so. This answer should be a decided No. Working for a Banite, for a worshipper of one of the Dead Three…it was wrong. It should be wrong. And yet…you were hesitant. Not only did Enver promise to end your homelessness but also an alliance. You were clueless as to how he assumed you would be of any use to him but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit that ever since he’d stepped into your life again…it felt like a part of yourself had returned to you. Against all reason, that made you happy. Relieved, even. You weren’t entirely alone—and you certainly wouldn’t be if you accepted his proposal.

You took a deep breath. “F-fine. I…I accept. I…I don’t want to lose you again.”

If he’d expected you to agree, he didn’t expect this. For just a split second, his composure faltered, surprise and something ever so soft washing over his face. It was gone again as fast as it had appeared.

“Splendid. A wise decision, my dear. I shall have one of the empty servants’ rooms prepared for you. Unless of course, you’d rather stay with me?” he mocked.

“You know, I would actually like that,” you said with a weak smile. Because you’d missed him. Banite or not, you were grateful he’d found his way into your life again. Not all was lost—perhaps you’d be able to talk to him. Help him be a better person just like he’d helped you be one when you were young. You’d find a way. For old times’ sake.

A/N: I already have an idea for a Part II.

[hopepetal]

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

@applestruda

“Impulse!”

“Scar!”

Cub scrambled forward, falling to his knees next to Scar's limp form. He wrapped his arms around Scar and pulled the other close. He carefully brushed a hand over Scar's face. “Scar? Scar, man, can you hear me? Scar?” His movements became more frantic with each passing moment, and he gently shook his friend. “Scar, c'mon. C'mon. Wake up.”

Pearl, still in her Watcher form, knelt by Impulse. Her hands ghosted over his body, finding his neck (he had a pulse, good), his forehead (no fever, though she wasn't sure what she was expecting), before she finally searched for magic. 

There was so much. 

It surrounded his body and wrapped around like chains. It stretched up toward his neck and wrapped around him like a collar, with another strand of magic connecting him to Grian. A quick glance told her Scar had similar magical bonds. If she looked more closely, she could see several more magic strands connecting to Grian, stretching out into the distance before fading away. 

Oh, void. 

Stay calm. Don't panic. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In, out, in, out inoutinoutinoutin–

“Pearl? Pearl? Oh goodness, oh, I don't– Cub–!”

Warm hands took her own, Cub shifting out of his vex form as he knelt in front of her. “Hey, Pearl. Can you look at me?” Void black eyes met his. Cub smiled softly, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay, good. Can we match our breathing? In… and out. In… and out. You're doing so well, Pearl. You're doing so well.”

Pearl slowly got her breathing under control. She felt her watcher form fall away, tears making tracks down her cheeks as she gazed at Cub. He was crying, too, though he made an effort to smile. “...I'm so sorry,” she sniffled, “I couldn't– I tried, I couldn't protect them…”

Cub nodded. His hands trembled slightly as he glanced over at Scar. “They're alive,” he whispered, as though speaking too loud would cause their sleeping friends to shatter. “They're alive.” It was a desperate mantra, a chant, a reminder to keep calm, don't break down, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. 

Pearl swallowed thickly, blinking away tears that clumped her eyelashes together. “I know. I– I saw magic. It was like chains and they all connected to Grian. I…” 

Cub’s eyes widened. Pearl paused, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know what's happening?” she asked. 

Cub pressed his mouth into a thin line, nodding. “I think so. One moment…” He shifted into his vex form. His eyes glowed softly as he scanned Impulse and Scar's bodies. “...oh, no. Ohhhh, no.” He pushed his glasses up, sighing heavily. “I was right. They're in a shared dreamscape.”

Mumbo paled. “A what?” he asked, wringing his hands together. “Are they okay?”

Cub gave a helpless shrug. “I don't know, man. I don't know. But shared dreamscapes– basically, Grian's magic pulled them into his own dreams. Judging by the violent nature and everything that's been happening, I doubt it was his doing.”

Pearl nodded, trying to think. “Could I override Grian's magic with my own, then?” she suggested, wings fluttering softly behind her. “Do you think that would work?”

Cub shook his head. “Dreamscapes are tied to the soul, something we don’t really want to damage. It’s probably best not to attempt that.”

“Then what do we do?” Mumbo asked. “Just wait for them to wake up? It can't be that simple. Can it?” 

Cub shook his head. “Unfortunately, unless we find another way to wake them up, they'll remain in the dreamscape until…” He trailed off. The implication was clear. 

“We can't let that happen,” Pearl decided, the others nodding. “Cub, do you know anything else about the dreamscapes? Anything at all?”

Cub hummed thoughtfully, shifting back into his mortal form. “Long ago, there was a civilization that boasted superior knowledge of the dreamscapes and souls. It's where I've gotten all my information from– but given how remote and run down their temples are, not many people have tried to venture in.” 

Mumbo tilted his head. “I think I’ve heard of those before. Aren’t they… well, cursed?”

Cub sighed. “There are quite a few rumors of a curse surrounding these places. I’ve never been to one myself, but I have reason to believe these rumors are due to the incredible amount of ambient magic there. Stay in the area for too long and you’ll probably start hallucinating.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “The connection to the void in these places is strong. We don’t know enough about this civilization to be certain, but I have a few theories that the civilization worshiped the void.”

Mumbo frowned. “So this is the best shot we have for finding something to help our friends wake up?”

Cub nodded. “Like I said earlier, the amount of information we’ve retrieved from these places is minimal. There’s a good chance that you’ll be able to find something in one of these temples– anything would help. From there, we can try our best to work out a solution, but if we’re lucky we might just find one.”

“So we find one of these temples and look for answers, then. Do we know where they are?” Pearl asked. 

Cub chewed on his lower lip, thinking for a moment. “If I had a map of the realm, I could probably give you a rough estimate of where one is. They were pretty secretive about where their temples were, but I got my hands on some books that helped me piece together where the main ones were. I believe the closest one would be about a week's journey from here.” 

“That’s wonderful and all, but, uh, we should probably–” Mumbo gestured at their fallen friends– “probably get them somewhere more… comfortable? Before we continue, I mean. It can't be too nice sleeping on the ground. Or healthy. I mean… yeah,” he finished awkwardly. 

Pearl and Cub stood, the former nodding along to Mumbo's words. “Good idea. Should we move them all into Grian's tent, do you think? It has the most space.” She turned to Cub, wordlessly asking for his opinion. 

Cub nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. We'll move some bedding in there first, and from what I've seen there will still be enough room for us to sorta move around, y'know?” 

Mumbo and Pearl nodded in sync, and the three began to move. It was a quiet task as they worked through the numbness that had settled within them as the panic slowly left. Every now and again, Pearl would sniffle softly, Cub would choke back tears, and Mumbo would mumble something under his breath. They felt hollow. Just this morning, things had been fine– as fine as they could've been, at least– and now they were down three knights, and void knows who else was affected by Grian's magic. 

Once they finished setting up the bedding, it was time to move Impulse and Scar. “I got him,” was all Cub said before he went vex and hoisted Scar up in a bridal carry. 

Mumbo glanced up at Pearl from where he stood next to Impulse. “I, uh– I don't. Got him, that is. If you couldn't tell.”

Pearl gave him a weary smile. “You got his legs, then?” She knelt by Impulse, sliding her arms under his back and shoulders. It was nice to see how much he had improved since the incident several months ago– when they'd first rescued him and brought him back, he'd been starved and fatigued, and had lost quite a bit of weight. He'd slowly regained his strength as he healed, and trained himself back up to where he'd been before. Pearl was proud of him for this. Even if it meant he was a little more difficult to pick up and maneuver. 

“Alright.” Mumbo got himself situated. “We lift on three. One, two, three!” With a soft grunt, he carefully helped Pearl lift up Impulse. Slowly, they brought him into Grian's tent and lowered him down onto the bedding they'd placed.

Cub looked up from where he had knelt by Scar, brushing the other's hair out of his face with a gentle hand. “All good?” he asked, humming softly when he received confirmation. “Okay. Do you have a map of the realm?” 

Pearl thought for a moment. “Mm, I think I should have one in my tent. I'll be right back.” She ducked out of Grian's tent, jogging over to her own and quickly digging through her storage. She easily found what she was looking for– pros of an organized storage system– and hurried back to Grian's tent with the map in hand. “Here.” She handed it to Cub, who unfurled it on the ground. 

“Oh! And!” Mumbo handed him a pen. “So you can mark it down,” he explained. 

Cub tapped the pen twice against a point on the map. “This is where we are right now, you see?” He traced the pen over the map. “And this is where I live. So you're going to start your journey as if you're heading to my place, and then…” He carefully drew the pen across the paper. “You'll be traveling through a forest, then a plains area, before running into a village. I recommend leaving your horses there– you'll be heading almost immediately into a thick jungle. I imagine it'll be about a day's travel before you reach the temple, but it could be more if you get caught up in something.”

Pearl exchanged glances with Mumbo. She reached up to nervously fiddle with the red crystal that hung on a string around her neck– it had become a bit of a nervous fidget for her over the past few months. “And this is the only lead we have. To fixing this whole thing,” she confirmed, frowning slightly at Cub's nod. “I hate to put all our diamonds in one chest, but if it's all we have, then we have to try.”

Mumbo nodded as well. “Yeah. I don't– we can't just sit around and do nothing. That would be absolutely bonkers.”

Cub nodded. “I feel like it could go unsaid, but I'll be staying here to watch over these three. If anything happens, I'll do what I can to help. And of course, I'll be protecting them and keeping them as physically healthy as I can.”

Pearl let out a shaky sigh. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. Cub, mate, I don't know what we'd do without you.”

“Scar's my friend too, Pearl,” Cub gently reminded her. “I know him better than anyone else. I have to look out for him.”

“Of course,” Pearl quickly responded, “I just– still. Thank you.”

Mumbo nodded. “Yeah, mate. You've really done so much, without you we wouldn't have our only lead.”

Cub frowned, anxiety shining in his eyes. “It may not lead you to anything of value,” he admitted, “but it's the only thing I know of that could possibly be of help. Other than traveling into the dreamscape itself, which would be a last resort if anything. Outside interference tends to change the dreamscape, and that could end up damaging not only their souls, but yours as well.”

Pearl hummed softly. “It makes me feel a little better, knowing we have a last resort at all. Two options are better than one.”

“Right on,” Mumbo agreed. “Though, it's still quite nerve-wracking, isn't it?”

Pearl let out a breathy laugh. “Just a bit.”

Cub smiled gently. “It's going to be alright, you two. Now…” He turned back to the map. “Where was I… the jungle. I've traveled this far, went right up to the village. The only reason I'm really giving any credit to this option at all is because I sensed a strong source of magic in the jungle. I wasn't able to make it there, but I know…” He tapped the pen against the map before circling an area. “The temple should be around here. Pearl, you'll be able to see the magic as a Watcher, I'd imagine, so I'm not too worried about you two getting lost. It'll still be quite the long journey, and you may run into danger along the way.” Mercenaries went unsaid. 

“I won't let anyone hurt you,” Pearl promised Mumbo. “We'll be alright. Even if we're down three knights, we're still strong. We're still– we're still knights.”

Cub handed the map to Pearl, giving her a weary smile. “I recommend you start packing for the journey. It's going to be a long one, and you'll need to be well prepared.”

Pearl and Mumbo nodded, both standing up. Pearl carefully pocketed the map as Mumbo ducked out of the tent. She glanced back at their sleeping friends before exiting the tent. 

It was quiet in camp, quieter than it had been in quite some time. As the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off, the weight of their situation truly began to settle on the three still awake. 

Pearl's hands shook as she carefully packed medical supplies. What if they never wake up? 

Cub hesitated as he carefully wrote notes about the sleeping knights' health. What if he made a mistake that he couldn't fix?

Mumbo tried to stay calm as he worked on sorting items to take for the journey. What if his lack of strength caused them to fail?

It took the two knights about an hour to finish gathering everything they'd need for the journey, and by then the sun was beginning to set. Mumbo took Pearl's hand and led her to where they always sat and watched the day give way to night. The two stood, silent and grieving, and Pearl wished she could wrap a wing around Mumbo and hold him close. She settled for giving his hand a slight squeeze, returning the teary-eyed smile he gave with one of her own. 

“It'll be okay,” she whispered. “It has to be, eventually.”

Mumbo nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I certainly hope so.”

The two slept in Pearl's tent that night, desperate for the comfort of each other's presence, clinging to the familiarity that they had come so close to losing altogether. Their sleep was dreamless, and they woke up with the sun the next day. 

“Good luck,” Cub wished them, pressing a potion of health into Pearl's hands and one of regeneration into Mumbo's. “Be safe.”

“You, too,” they responded in sync, unable to hold back smiles at that. 

Pearl quickly ducked into Grian's tent to check on her brother (his fever had gone down, at least) and say goodbye. Then it was time to leave, and the two knights mounted up. 

“I don't know if it's just me,” Mumbo pointed out as they rode out from their home, “but we seem to be a magnet for trouble.”

Pearl let out a weary chuckle. “Nah, it's not just you. Never a dull moment around here, is there?”

“You could say that again,” Mumbo muttered. 

Silence fell over the two, the only sound being the horses' hooves against the ground and the soft chirping of the early morning birds. Pearl couldn't help but be reminded of Grian, with how he would sometimes instinctively respond to the birds with little chirps and trills. 

Mumbo seemed to notice how the mood sombered. He delicately cleared his throat. “Weather's been nice, lately,” he said quite awkwardly, and Pearl started giggling. “What? I was just– I was trying to lighten the mood, is all! It's good to try and keep our spirits up!” 

Pearl shook her head, blinking away tears as she laughed. “No, no, thank you, I just wasn't expecting that. Consider the mood successfully lightened.” 

Refusing to just wait around and hope for the best, the two knights began their journey. 

“The king has collapsed!” 

Doc strode through the palace halls, following the harried footsteps of the servant. “Tell me more,” he instructed briskly. “What happened?”

“The king, his advisor, and the head of the royal guard have all collapsed after an extreme magic surge that broke past all warding sigils. The royal medic and magical specialist are on their way,” the servant explained quickly, panting slightly. 

“And who else is aware of this?” Doc pressed, rounding the corner with the servant. Up ahead was the door that led to the main meeting room, and the servant paused before entering. 

“Only those I listed, sir. As well as you and I.” Their eyes flicked nervously up to Doc's before they quickly looked away. “I'm magically sensitive, sir. I was nearby when I felt the surge.” 

Doc nodded curtly. “Listen here. You will tell no one about this,” he instructed. “If word got out that three high ranking officials– including the king himself– had collapsed after a possible terrorist attack, there would be chaos. You will be compensated as necessary.”

The servant's eyes widened as they shook their head. “Oh, no sir. I don't need compensation. Just… is his majesty… will he be alright?”

“Only one way to find out.” Doc pushed the door to the meeting room open. 

Just as the servant had told him, the three had collapsed. Martyn's nose was bleeding slightly, likely from the extreme amount of magic that had been involved in the attack. Ren had slumped over in his chair, and BigB had fallen to the floor beside Ren's chair. 

Doc strode over to Ren. He gripped the king’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. “Hey. Hey, man. Wake up.” He heard a soft, shocked inhale come from the servant, likely at the casual form of address he used with Ren. They had dropped the formalities with each other a long time ago, becoming close friends as Doc advised him and helped work on inventions together. 

“Sir, I don't think…” the servant began hesitantly, “I don't think they're going to wake up. Whatever magic that caused this is strong. I can't tell any more than that.”

Just in time, the magic specialist burst in through the door, followed closely by the royal medic. From there on out things became a blur. Ren, Martyn, and BigB were moved to the private infirmary, and Doc eventually found himself standing in front of the council. 

“As of right now, the king is incapacitated. As your acting regent, I will take his majesty's place.” Murmurs of assent and concern rose from the council, but Doc quieted them with a raised hand. “All you need to know is that the king is alive and healthy. I’m sure you’re all aware that the public must not know of this. There would be chaos, and we cannot afford for the kingdom to be in disarray at a time like this.”

The meeting concluded shortly after, and Doc left to go check in with the royal medic and magic specialist. “How are they?” he asked quietly, glancing over at his friends' sleeping forms. 

The magic specialist pursed their lips, before sighing. “I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. The magic used is more powerful than anything I've ever seen. As of right now, they are unharmed, but have effectively been put into eternal slumber.”

Doc frowned. “And is there anything we can do to help them?”

“Keep them under close watch. I'll continue to carefully study the magic affecting them, and call in those from the guild who specialize in these kinds of spells. Other than that…” The magic specialist shook their head, shrugging slightly. “All we can do is wait.”

The forest was unusually quiet as the queen of the fae stepped out from the shadows. She had been drawn to her husband by a sudden surge of foreign magic. Looking around, Lizzie was quick to find Joel. He lay on the ground, limp, surrounded by his dogs. 

Geraldine, who was pressed up against Joel's side whimpering and nudging him gently with her nose, looked up at Lizzie. She wagged her tail once, twice, before nuzzling against Joel's side with a whine.��

Lizzie quickly made her way to Geraldine, flowers blooming at her feet as she walked. “Oh, Joel…” She knelt by him and gently felt his forehead, then glanced over at Geraldine. “What happened?” she asked, and brought her hands up to rest against Geraldine's soft fur. “Tell me, my darling.”

Geraldine closed her eyes, and Lizzie saw. 

She saw Joel walking through the forest. She saw magic, surrounding him and binding him, pulling him to the ground. Her heart ached at his fear, at the expression of terror on his face right before he collapsed. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. Tears made warm tracks down her face as she pulled herself from the memory, “I couldn't protect you.”

Geraldine whimpered, placing her head in Lizzie's lap. Lizzie gently stroked her soft fur as she took deep breaths. “Good girl,” she murmured. “Thank you for staying by him.” She carefully picked her husband up, closing her eyes and bowing her head. 

In a flash of light and shower of flower petals, Lizzie and Joel, as well as his animals, disappeared. Whisked away to the fae realm, where Lizzie could keep them safe, and wait out whatever curse had taken her beloved. 

Iskall had been cleaning the counters when three of his patrons– one of his best friends included– collapsed after a rather terrifying explosion of magic. Dropping the rag they had been using, Iskall ran to where they had fallen. “Etho!” He grabbed his friend's shoulder and roughly shook him. “Etho, are you–?” They cut themselves off. Carefully, they turned Etho over and checked for a pulse. 

Okay, good. He had one. Now for the other two– Cleo and Bdubs, Etho had introduced them to him earlier. They had pulses too. That… was good. Okay. 

What now?

“I should move them somewhere more private,” Iskall muttered to themselves. “Yeah. Good idea.” 

It certainly took more than a little effort to move all three to a room– thankfully, there was an open one on the first floor, and Iskall heaved a sigh of relief when they had gotten everyone settled in a bed. “Now… what do I do?” they asked no one in particular, before sighing. “Probably call a doctor. I'm not qualified for this.” 

In the end, all Iskall could do was wait. 

Zedaph was having… a day.

He would've called it a good day on any other occasion. Skizz had found him! Somehow, the mountain guide had managed to track him down and bust into his super secret science spot, which Zed swore he'd hidden quite well. No matter. Skizz was a friend!

A very angry friend, who, given what he was ranting about, had a very good cause to be upset. 

Something had happened with Impulse– a demon had possessed him, apparently, and had come very close to dying. When Pearl (one of Impulse's new friends, Skizz had explained) sent out letters contacting the rest of Team Z.I.T.S, Zedaph had never gotten his. Most likely because he practically lived in a cave, hidden away from the world. 

(Tango had lived in a cave, too, but he had recently moved in with a friend after a creeper incident.)

“And look, man,” Skizz was saying, talking more with his hands than anything, “I'm all for living out in nature. But c'mon. We needed you!”

“I'm sorry,” Zedaph apologized, “but everything's fine now, right? Impulse is alive and safe?”

Skizz hesitated. “Yeah, he is. But I'm still mad at you, because that was a real jerk move of you. Y'know, the rest of us kept in contact! Somewhat! You just dropped off the map to do your crazy… experiments!”

“It's not crazy, it's science.”

“Oh, you–”

And then there was magic, purple and screaming and swirling around Skizz. Zedaph felt something tug at his core, but it slipped away before it took hold. Skizz wasn't as lucky, and collapsed. 

Then there was silence.

Zedaph blinked. “Oh, that's fascinating.” And slightly concerning. Actually, mostly concerning, if he thought about it.

He should get Skizz some blankets. He didn’t want one of his friends sleeping on the floor, after all!

“Alright, you two, follow me…”

Jimmy and Tango did as Scott instructed, walking down a carefully manicured path to the large structure in Scott's yard. They'd come to buy flowers for their place in the city– it would liven the place up, Jimmy had promised, so Tango had reluctantly agreed to come along. Scott grew flowers as a hobby, so they'd made the trip to his cottage. 

They stepped into the greenhouse, Scott closing the door behind them. “Come right this way. Did you have any preference on the type of flower, colour, size…?” 

Jimmy shook his head. “Probably shouldn't be too big, though. I'm not trying to grow a whole tree here.”

Scott laughed. “Shame. Trees are quite lovely this time of year.”

“With how often Sparky over here starts, well, sparking, I don't think trees would be a good idea.” Jimmy nudged Tango, who groaned. 

“I don't spark that much! And things don't catch fire, Jimmy!” he protested. 

Jimmy was about to respond when he felt a sudden surge of… was that Grian's magic? “Hold on, what–”

Pain flared in his head, and Jimmy cried out. Tango called his name, but Jimmy couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. He felt blood trickle from his nose, and then…

Magic.

He barely had time to cry out Tango's name before something tugged on his core, and Jimmy collapsed. The other two soon followed. 

Three fell asleep in a flowerbed, untouched and unseen, with only the flowers as witness.

[deadghosy]

Vlogger! Mattheo x Editor! Reader pt.1/pt.2

You woke up, it’s been 5 months since you started dating the guy you worked for. And honestly it wasn’t bad.

He was rich, kind, a very good listener, and a good boyfriend. He had told you his past when he use to fight kids when he was younger. He even demonstrated which knuckles were split during fights. You kinda found it attractive as you chuckled.

Despite his crackhead energy, he’s a lovable guy that loves to make you smile.

He always announces on his vlogs that you are his hot editor he bought off of eBay. Which was funny as hell to you and him. Many of his fans even started to like you as well. You were very handsome/beautiful. Some can’t decide to envy mattheo or you.

Mattheo then started to go on twitch which you found usual, most influencers go on twitch anyways. You don’t appear much on his streams as you are usual editing. But sometimes you go in there to check up on him.

It was a regular night, you were in mattheo’s room where he was streaming random shit. Literally, his twitch title said “random tingz.” You had joined only for a little only for it to turn for 2 hours as you guys just chatted with the stream watchers. Mattheo thee in a little flirty jokes here and there as you try to brush them off. You two haven’t told his platform that you two are dating. Worried about what they would think of course.

Mattheo kept staring at you which earned a lot of attention on it. “Awww I wish someone looked at me like mattheo looks at Y/N..” a person said, then another said “girl keep dreaming @bigballsofmattheo” you laughed at the usernames and the chatting. They all seemed like funny people. That’s when someone gifted subs.

“@Mattheosslut, thank you for the 100 gifted.” You read as Mattheo was typing something. Mattheo then looked at chat with squinted eyes. “Slut? Well that’s funny because ima slut for—” immediately you cover his mouth with a smile. “Okay! Enough of that.” Mattheo laughed as he held your hand that wasn’t in frame of the face cam. You and Mattheo started to play duo games, you two started off with fireboy and watergirl.

“Mattheo get the damn green gem!” You yelled smacking his arm. “What you think I’m trying to get babe!?” He yells nudging you. You rolled your eyes with a scoff, “just lose the attitude pretty boy.” For a second you thought you could see him freeze for a second before getting the gem and quickly getting to the door. “There..happy now.” He says eyeing you. You nodded.

“Omg they’re so cute tg!” “Are they dating???” “Y/N is so pretty/handsome!!” “Mattheo really is love gazing his editor again.” “Quick! Someone make an edit!!” The chat was going crazy as you yawned, telling mattheo you were going to bed. “Ight night gorgeous.” He says softly, and when the chat and him heard the soft click of the door closing. Immediately mattheo started to spaz out as he faced the camera.

“Pretty boy?! Am I really that pretty…oh what the fuck am I saying. Of course I’m pretty.” He said with a smug look as he started to make his stream watch random ass memes. “I’m their pretty boy…” he mumbled to himself as he just leans back and watches the video with his chat.

He’s your pretty boy…