#literally im the last slot. and now

[oysterie]

soooo glad i checked i would have cried if i showed up day one and had a diff instructor lmfaoo

[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 

[machveil]

POOKIE!! hear me out a fic for an extremely sub!ghost like to the point where he's on his hands and knees literally sobbing his heart out because he wants to eat you out and you're denying him because you're just enjoying watching him beg but eventually you give in

(I'm ovulating don't judge me im not usually this cruel 😭)

pookie… I see and hear you, I feel you in my bones we’re jumping straight in

CW: Fem!Reader, Sub!Ghost, weepy Simon Riley to soothe the soul… and other things, clothed humping, oral (fem!receiving)

tactical gear still fastened and balaclava tugged up just over his nose, the sight before you has your thighs pressed together as you sit on the edge of his bed. Ghost, in all his glory, sitting at your feet - tears wetting his eyelashes and balaclava as he looks up at you. he’s still large even when he’s kneeling, but the way he’s behaving makes him look so small

the last deployment he had been on, one where you stayed back at base, had taken such a toll on him. all in one piece, but exhausted and sore. he was admittedly gross right now, sweaty and gear dirty from field work, but god— as soon as he had guided you to his room he all but fell to his knees for you. “Please, jus’ wanna taste you sweet’art.”, strained, voice ragged and gravelly from giving out constant streams of orders. pitiful, deep brown eyes gazing at you as he tugged his mask up

something about the way he looked made a spark flicker to life in your chest, heat pooling in your gut. Ghost is never like this, your Ghost would never be like this - let alone on base. your Simon Riley? that’s what makes this all too familiar, the way he’s looking up at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. that’s saved for the comfort of your home, your shared flat back in Manchester. to see him like this? a needy, desperate man crawling towards you, resting his chin on your lap? who could blame you for wanting to see a little more?

it almost makes you feel bad when a choked sob leaves his lips - you had let him slip your slacks off, pooled around your boots. your boots, maybe that was why Ghost’s eyebrows were screwed together as he sloppily mouthed at your thighs. “You can— just need you to cum for me first, Ghost.”, maybe that request was too cruel for him, you knew him too well. the sight of him grinding his painfully hard bulge against your boot, spit and drool slicking your thighs as he cried against your lap. you know he can’t, not like this. Ghost— Simon’s too used to you helping him

he can’t cum, not without you - your hand, your mouth, anything you’re willing to give him, even if it’s just his mouth pleasing you. skin on skin contact, it’s nothing compared to grinding on your boot or using his hand. his sclera are tinted red at the edges, salty tears mixing with his spit as he sucks at your thighs, anything to keep his mouth occupied as his hips buck against your shoe. five minutes, five minutes too long when Simon looks up at you. scarred lips smeared with his own saliva, a broken little hiccup followed by a shoulder shaking sob leaves him, “Missed you— please, please, lemme make you feel good, lovie, m’sorry.”

he nearly breaks down when you shift to tug your underwear down, shaky hands coming up to rest on your knees. before you can even finish saying ‘okay’ Simon is parting your legs, slotting himself between your plush thighs. sloppy, a man starved of affection and your cunt for weeks. it would have tugged at your heartstrings if you were paying attention to him, head lolled back as he desperately sucks on your clit. if you had been paying attention you would have caught his sobs, your poor Simon, crying against your cunt. as good as you feel, Simon’s already gone, underwear soaked through as soon as he had his mouth on you

[pillarofna]

happy pride! please help me pay bills until my job starts 💔

last post died, hi im dylan a disabled bi trans guy who is unemployed (new job starts in 2-3 weeks). i was $442 away from my goal ($150 internet/phone, $155 insurance, $99 HRT, $50 vet payment plan) but now this month’s car payment + insurance (additional $300) is about to come out of my account on june 13. plus the cost of my interview clothes which were $30.

my new goal is $780. thats a huge amount but i’m about $1600 in credit card debt so it’s just getting myself afloat until i (hopefully) get hired and start the job in 2-3 weeks. literally anything helps right now and 28% APR is going to kick my ass the longer i can’t pay

paypaI @ aidenallison

ca$happ $diabolicshrimp

v3nmo @ diabolicshrimp

i also have commissions open! (3/5 slots open)

$80 / $780 thank you, please rb!!!

[sorrowsaint]

i think you can summon those. theyre common in the mountains of chaos so (well around the base)

Oh everything hurts…

[holllandtrash]

long live | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (epilogue to fragile line)

long live the walls we crashed through i had the time of my life with you long, long live the walls we crashed through how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

time passes and feelings may fade, but the memories never will word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: time jumps like always, angst and heartbreak but it's not all sad this time, or is it?

four years later

“Daniel Ricciardo, 2025 Formula 1 World Champion, The Honey Badger,” James Hinchcliffe put his arm around the fellow commentator, “Tell us what you know.”

“What I know, Hinch,” Daniel repeated, taking a dramatic look up towards the clear sky. “What do I know?”

They didn’t need to act like they were friends for the camera, James and Daniel had grown close in a short time, ever since Daniel put down the helmet and picked up a microphone, Replacing the racing overalls with a suit and tie. He had the personality to be a motorsports commentator. No one was surprised when he was announced as Sky Sports newest reporter following his Formula 1 retirement. 

And James, a fellow retired driver himself from the IndyCar side, a Canadian with the humour and the banter that could keep up with Daniel, they were truly one of the best duos when it came to motorsports broadcasting.

They weren't often together, though. Daniel stuck to Formula 1. James was a regular for IndyCar. There were only a handful of races where they came together and the Indianapolis 500 was one of them. 

They were a comedic duo last year at the 2026 running, it only made sense to bring Daniel back again this year.

“Who’s your money on?” James asked. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started he had an answer. 

But he hesitated. 

Or, maybe froze was a better word. Daniel froze when he dropped his gaze from the sky and looked further down the pit lane. They didn’t plan on standing a few slots away from the number 6 car of Arrow McLaren, but that's where they found themselves.

Daniel froze when he spotted the familiar face sitting on the bench in the pit wall, looking at the data on the screens and nodding along with the engineer as he spoke. Daniel froze, because even though he knew exactly who was driving that car, he still wasn’t prepared for what he would do when he saw the driver.

When he saw you. 

You guys had agreed, long ago, that there would be no more interactions. That your careers, your lives, would be better if the other stayed as far away as possible.

Daniel knew that even now, four years later, he had no right to talk to you, to talk about you. He knew that at this point, it was for the best that ties were still cut, that the conversations didn’t happen. It had been over a year since your last interaction, he was in no position to change that. 

And he tried, desperately, over the years to follow the rules you agreed on. You as well kept your distance, you had to. 

But you were only human. There had been a few slip ups over the years.

For the remainder of the season, after the Austin race, you both had stuck to your word. You stopped giving the world the moments they were waiting for. You refused to interact with each other, you forced yourself to stop caring. 

It grew easier with time. The 2024 season was challenging in itself, but with Max and Daniel fighting amongst each other in a league of their own, you knew you couldn’t fight them in a McLaren. All you could do was make the most of what you had. 

Lando and you had a strong opening those first few races. McLaren was third in the constructors for a short time until other teams started to catch up, filling in the holes of their designs. 

You quite literally didn’t have time to care about Daniel when you were so focused on the rest of the grid, your actual competition. Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston Martin even. Your upgrades were no match with theirs and by the end of the season, it was disappointing to look back without a podium to reminisce on. Lando scored two, one in Spa, the other in Singapore. You did well, but not well enough to bring home a trophy.

2025 was…different.

In many ways. Firstly, the McLarens showed consistency as the season continued. You and Lando were always top contenders for points.  

Secondly, Daniel was giving Max a run for his money. He had a bit the year prior, but this season was far more competitive. You, like everyone else, was dying to see who would pull through and score that first place trophy at the end of the day, but you had to hide your desires for it to be Daniel. 

You still hadn’t spoken. You had successfully veered away from any accidental interactions. His name stayed out of your mouth and at this point, everyone on the grid knew there was a disconnect. You both had gone out of your way, this year and in 2024, to assure there would be no media appearances together, no driver conferences, nothing that the online world could twist. 

But you couldn’t do anything about still being happy for him. That would never go away. You would always want Daniel to succeed. You just couldn’t be watching the screens when he podiumed. You couldn’t go out with him and the others to celebrate. You couldn’t wish him a congrats in passing like Lando could if you were walking down the paddock. 

Daniel felt the same. While the love was gone, there was nothing he could do about those proud moments. He wanted you to make a name in this sport, to make history. He wanted you to be someone and even though he once wanted to be at your side while you planted your roots, he couldn’t.

Except that one time when he physically was at your side. 

There was a mistake in the media pen scheduling on that Thursday in Miami. From what you knew, Daniel was supposed to be in the press conference and you’d be one of the ten unlucky few that had to stand under the Miami sun in the football field, talking about how you were looking forward to this race when in reality you personally thought this was the worst race on the calendar. 

But it was too hot to complain about anything other than the heat and how you needed to change shirts as soon as the media pen segment was over because the breathable material of your papaya polo was anything but breathable.

You had barely stepped into the roped off circle to join the other drivers when you heard your name being called. Glancing over your shoulder, it took a second to realise that the call was coming from a young girl running in your direction. Her paddock lanyard flailing over her shoulder as she sprinted, one hand held onto her McLaren hat so it wouldn’t fall off.

“She can’t be here-”

“Piss off, she’s fine,” you weren’t even sure who you interrupted, but you didn’t give the risk of a reprending a second thought as you stepped forward to meet the young fan.

She was small, and you weren’t a professional when it came to guessing the ages of kids but you would put her somewhere in the range of six and eight. Maybe?

You knelt down to be more at eye level, “Hi darling, what’s your name?”

“Cara,” she answered, slightly out of breath. There was a gap in her teeth from where she must have just lost one, but it didn’t affect her grin at all. 

“Hi Cara,” you smiled at her, only then noticing she wore a shirt with your last name on it. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw an older gentleman running towards her. “Is that your dad?”

Cara looked and then nodded, but she didn’t care that she had completely abandoned him and given him a heart attack. “I saw you last year here. You finished fifth, my dad took me to watch. He says you- he says that you’re the only girl driver.”

“I am the only girl driver,” you confirmed, pouting slightly. You brushed your hand over her shoulder to smooth out the material of the shirt, “That should change soon, don’t you think? All of these boys need to be put in their place and I can’t do it alone.”

“I can join,” Cara suggested. The carefree optimism was a rare sight at one of these race weekends, but you admired it in Cara. She was too young to know the difficulties of being a female in this field and hopefully by the time she grew up, there were less walls for her to climb over, just doors to open. 

“You can join,” you nodded at the idea, laughing slightly, mostly because her dad had caught up to her and he was more out of breath than she saw. You smiled at him but looked back at Cara, “Do you race?”

“Yes!”

“No,” her dad answered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, at least. We’ve signed her up for karting this summer, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I can already tell you’ll be a natural,” you told Cara. Watching her face light up was probably the most rewarding feeling you’d get all weekend. 

“I want to be like you. I want to win races, I want to win a championship!”

“You know what Cara, I can’t break every record, being the first girl driver. So I’ll save the championship one for you, how about that? I want to see you become the first girl to win the championship.” You gave her arm a squeeze and then stood up, turning your focus to her dad. 

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and although you couldn’t make assumptions that he was single, the greying hair at a fairly young age and the bags under his eyes told you that he was mostly likely the main caretaker for Cara. 

“She’s got dreams,” you said.

He nodded, but smiled proudly, “That she does.”

You didn’t want to speak negatively about this industry in front of Cara, you didn’t want to crush her dreams, but you also didn't want her to grow up and be hopelessly disappointed either.

“It’s not easy for girls in this sport,” you told him. “But if she’s serious, if both of you are, look into working with Mary from Victory Speedway, located out in Tampa. She’s got contacts with F1 Academy as well. They’re goal is to make it easier.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “And thank you for talking with Cara. Both of us are big fans, you truly are inspiring.”

You chatted for a bit longer, ignoring Oliver who was at your side reminding you that you had media duties. They could wait. A photo with the girl that seemed to be your biggest fan and maybe one day your predecessor, couldn’t wait.

No one really heard what you spoke about, the other drivers had their own obligations in the media pen. 

Daniel, though, he listened. 

He was standing right near the entrance when Cara had run up. He had watched you bend down to chat with her, making her a priority opposed to the reporters. He was less than two feet away as he overheard your conversation and when you turned around, ready to get the media day over with, you met his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t look away.

Daniel wanted to tell you he admired that conversation, the hope you installed in the young fan. He wanted to tell you that you made a great role model, for not just girls but all aspiring drivers. He wanted to say a lot of things to you.

He settled on a question, “You’re not trying to win the championship?”

This was the first time you had spoken in months and it wasn’t even in private. It was quite literally in front of cameras, reporters, people with audio recording devices and microphones. You opened your mouth slightly only to lock up, giving him an apologetic look because you both knew better than to be having any sort of interaction. 

You turned to face the first reporter, ignoring Daniel’s question completely. He just nodded to himself and walked to his own spot, keeping you in the corner of his eye. 

This young reporter, though, was also curious, having overheard what Daniel asked. 

“You’re not vying for a championship? Does Zak Brown know this?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged and gave him a smile, “I mean, every driver's dream is the championship, but it’s not my goal currently. Your goals can, and should, be different than your dreams. And yes, Zak knows this, don’t you worry.”

“Your goal then, what is it?”

You inhaled, thinking to yourself for a second, “I’ve got a few and I have a good team supporting me while I work towards them. First would be to make as much history as I can, set as many records while I have a spot in Formula 1 and then I want to help other female drivers break them.”

“You want your records to be broken?”

“If it means getting more females into Formula 1, then yes.”

Daniel, who was in the middle of trying to listen to the reporter in front of him, smiled as he heard that. It was a very you response. He leaned forward, gripping the railing a bit because he completely misheard his own question and needed him to repeat it.

“And your other goal?” The young reporter asked you. 

Your lips curved into more of a devious smile, deciding to keep that one close to your chest. “Do you have any questions about the race this weekend? Or are you trying to write a biography on my life?”

Daniel was dying to know what it was too. He spent the rest of that media session racking through the memories of you, there were a lot, trying to think if you ever had that conversation. You must have, right? So why couldn’t he remember?

When all of you made your way out and back to the paddock, Daniel ignored the voice in his head telling him to just let it go. He completely drowned it out as he jogged up to your side, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand over your elbow to grab your attention. Instead he just said, 

“Hey.”

You glanced up, instinctively stepping to the side as you walked to put more space between your bodies. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, pulling your eyes off of him and on the Red Bull motorhome that was coming up. This conversation would be short, he’d have to go back inside. You’d be fine for ten seconds, right?

“So what-” he cleared his throat. This shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. After so long of not even glancing at each other, there were new lines painted between you. Daniel didn’t know how to navigate them, and honestly, neither did you.

“Triple Crown, Dan,” you answered, knowing that's where he was going when he opened his mouth. 

The Triple Crown. Monaco. Indy 500. 24 Hours of Le Mans. 

He took a second to process that goal, not having expected it in the slightest. When he nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes, only there was less pain and more distance. He didn’t know you like he thought he did.

“I never knew you were aiming for the Triple Crown.”

“You never asked.”

He had trained you, helped you become the best athlete you could be. He had introduced you to the right people. He acted as a mentor, but the conversations you had about racing were limited. There was a lack of communication in that sense because why bring work home with you? 

But that was the wedge driven between you. Had you talked about racing, contracts, your futures, you would have never found yourself in that McLaren contract scandal that ultimately broke you two up. 

He nodded, because what else could he say to that? You gave him a soft smile and told yourself to keep walking, to move to the other side of the paddock as Daniel headed into the Red Bull motorhome. 

You don’t interact again until Monaco. Daniel now knew winning this race meant more to you than others. Winning this would be one third of the Triple Crown checked off and as much as he was gunning for the podium, thankful for his P2 starting position, he saw that you were starting fourth and took a breath of relief. You had a shot.

Daniel wasn’t sure what came over him when he saw you in the paddock after qualifying. Maybe it was because you not completely shutting him down in Miami gave him a strange surge of confidence to approach you again, or maybe it was because he was ignoring all the voices in his head to just keep walking. Whatever it was, Daniel saw you chatting with a member of Sky Sports and as he walked passed, patted your shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

You paused whatever it was you were saying and turned in his direction, just in time to see him give you a smile and a thumbs up as he continued on his way. You returned it, but that small interaction had you stumbling over your words for the next two hours. 

Not because you were smitten, you were past that. You didn’t look at Daniel anymore and lose your train of thought, you didn’t get lost in a daze and allow everything else to fade around you.

But he didn’t seem to let go of you completely yet, and you could work with that. You could be civil. You could be neutral during race weekends, as long as it didn’t go further than the friendly smiles and minimal chats.

It shouldn’t have been hard to keep the conversations short, you hadn’t actually had anything meaningful to say to each other in over a year. When you ran into him after the race on Sunday, after he claimed the title of Monaco Grand Prix race winner for a second time, you should have just said congratulations and kept walking.

But Daniel saw you as he was propped up against the side of the Red Bull motorhome and then he stood up straighter, almost inviting you to walk up to him. There were no cameras around anymore, the majority of the paddock had gone home so you felt safer, sort of. If the world hadn’t lost their minds at the clip of him patting your back yesterday, you could talk to him now.

The Red Bull engineer he was with said his goodbyes and smiled politely at you as you approached, stopping at a safe distance.

“Another Monaco win under your belt.”

“So it seems,” Daniel tried his best to not look too proud of himself. You could see his dimples poking through. You wanted him to not be holding back, you missed his grin but gone were the days when he didn’t have to refrain with you. 

“You deserve it,” you nodded, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. You were scared of any stragglers with iPhones, but no one around seemed to care that you and Daniel were talking. You were drivers, it shouldn’t have been a strange sight.

“You deserve it,” Daniel playfully shot back. “I mean, I couldn’t just hand it over this year though, despite your Triple Crown goal.”

“Oh but next year? You’ll let me have it then?” You asked, eyebrows raised. It was a joke, a small tease, but Daniel’s smile slipped and you caught it. You caught it and you stepped forward, hand flinching because it would be moments like this where you’d want to reach for him but you couldn’t do that anymore, could you?

Daniel tensed. Now it was his turn to look anxiously around, “I might not-” a sharp inhale passed through his lips, “Yeah I might not be here next year.”

You scoffed because that idea was preposterous, “Oh shut up.”

“No it’s true,” Daniel said, but his smile told you that he wasn’t sad about it. “You know how your goal is the Triple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Mine’s the championship, sweets.”

You weren’t given an opportunity to react to the nickname because he continued on explaining without missing a beat. Either he didn’t see the way saying sweets affected you or he didn’t even notice he said it because even after all this time, it still came naturally to him. 

“There’s a clause in my contract,” he said. “If I win the championship this year, we can renegotiate. I can leave, I can- I can retire. The way I want to.”

You didn’t know how to process this. 

Daniel belonged in Formula 1. He fought so hard for his seat, he was a mess when he was left without one and now there was a chance he’d be gone? 

And even though you were only eight races in, already he was leading the driver standings over Max, not by much, but he was. There was a strong possibility Daniel could take the championship home at the end of the season.

You couldn’t say what was on your mind. You couldn’t say, selfishly, I hope you lose the championship. You couldn’t say that it was impossible to imagine the paddock without him because even those few months when he wasn’t racing, he was still there. 

“We’ve still got a few months to go,” Daniel’s voice broke you from your thoughts, trying to move to a brighter note because that’s just who he was. “But this could be good for you. You’ll have a real shot at winning Monaco next year. But I mean- you technically already won Monaco.”

“That was F2.”

“I think it still counts.”

“I think I’ll win it again, just to be safe.”

Daniel liked that response, he liked how confident you were that the win was coming. He nodded and he really would have liked to talk to you more about this, about his potential leave, about your success, but when he was called from across the paddock you didn’t hesitate before saying goodbye. The conversation was long enough.

Things seemed lighter between you after that. 

You didn’t stop yourself from being visibly happy when he was doing well. You laughed if you overheard the stupid shit he said in the paddock. You didn’t make a big deal about it when you two were signed up for the same press conference session. Granted, you still sat on complete opposite ends of the couch, but you sat there with a smile because you liked hearing Daniel talk about the lead he still carried in the standings.

Spa was the turning point for you two.

While you hadn’t taken any more steps beyond paddock conversations and friendly interactions, what was Daniel supposed to do when you both ended up on the podium together? Him on top, claiming first, you right next to him on the second step?

You both held back when you climbed out of the cars. He opted for a friendly pat on the back even though he wanted nothing more than to bring you in for an embrace. You had podiumed once already this season, but not with Daniel. You stood between the two Mercedes drivers back in Austria but now you were there, with Daniel at your side, both of you beaming. 

You were proud of yourselves. You were proud of each other. 

Both of you had dreamt of this moment, standing next to each other on the podium. You still remembered that conversation years ago, trying to imagine what it would be like to hear the cheers for both of you.

‘You’ll have to do a shoey.’

‘Only if you win. I’m not doing one if I win.’

You had shared this dream when you were in love and even though that wasn’t the case anymore, the dream was still very much alive. Because of that, it almost didn’t feel right. 

It felt sort of unfulfilling, despite you being handed a heavy trophy. 

But this was a moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. All of your accomplishments were held very close to your heart but this one meant more than you could put into words. 

Hands shaking, crowd going wild, you were on top of the world and you were standing next to the man you used to be in love with. You glanced to the side to watch him, not able to stop yourself from smiling wide and then wider still as he held his head high like a hero. 

Daniel was larger than life. 

He always would be. 

You tried not to let yourself think that this might be the only chance you’d get to stand here with him. This win only pushed him further ahead in the championship and you were, seemingly, the only one who knew this year would be his last if he ended up winning. 

You had to hold onto this moment. It wouldn’t come again. 

To everyone watching at home, this was the start of a new age with you and Daniel. Fans could see the way you two interacted, the sheer joy you had for each other, something they hadn’t seen since you still raced in F2. 

To you, this was the beginning of the end. 

Finally, you and Daniel were getting to a place where things could be good and in a few short months, he’d be gone.

You couldn’t think about it more, not when you felt champagne being sprayed in your direction. You were late to the game and popped yours after Daniel and Max had, but you still joined in with the celebration. 

You laughed when Daniel took his shoe off and poured some of the bubbly liquid into the sole. He laughed when you refused to drink it, both of you ignoring the fact that if you were still in love, if you were still together, you would have done the shoey with him. 

Daniel was content with the nod. He knew you were happy for him, the same way he was happy for you. But neither of you could show it the way you wanted to. 

The championship win was decided at the second last race of the season, Qatar.

You didn’t have a good weekend, and you knew this. You took responsibility for the poor qualifying, the bad performance, for all of it. But you were distracted, unable to keep yourself from thinking about Daniel because if he won this race, he won it all. 

And then he’d walk away.

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Daniel take home the win but selfishly, you wanted him in Formula 1. You always wanted him in Formula 1. 

So when he crossed that line, ahead of Max, ahead of the rest of the grid, when he did celebratory donuts and stood on the podium with his chin held high, you stood on the sidelines and ignored how you used to wish for a day like this, wished for a day where he would be crowned the Championship Winner.

Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. 

It had a nice ring to it. 

That’s what you told him that night when you were out at dinner and saw him sitting with a few members from his team just a few feet away. You weren’t surprised to see him at the establishment, it was exclusive, it was way overpriced and it was where many drivers went prior to going out and partying. 

You avoided his eyes that evening, scared that if you’d meet them you’d be forced to accept the reality that he really was leaving. At least, you know, if you didn’t look at him, you could live in your own little world where he wasn’t gone just yet.

You were genuinely annoyed when you bumped into him after leaving the toilets. The hall was dim, narrow and there was quite literally nowhere for you to go when he turned the corner and stopped walking when he saw you. 

“Hi,” you swallowed, anxiously smoothing out the skirt you wore, even more anxiously trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” Daniel slid his hands into his pockets. His Enchante shirt clung to his skin due to the heat, but you told yourself you weren’t allowed to look at the way his little curls stuck to his forehead. 

“You, um-” you held your hand out. “Congratulations, really. Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

When he leaned against the wall, you realised you were stuck. There was no getting out of this conversation. No escaping this reality. 

It didn’t help that the rest of the dining room faded behind him. The people, the sounds, the light, it was just Daniel. 

Just Daniel and just you.

How it always should have been.

How it would never be again.

You opened your mouth, intent on saying something else about his win but all that came out was a shaky breath and a choked back sob that triggered the tears you didn’t even know were building. It was quiet, but it was desperate and it was painful and Daniel didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your cries were muffled against his shirt and Daniel stroked your back and then your hair, holding you tight against him.

You were happy for him, really. If anyone deserved this win, it was him but god you were devastated because up until now, you didn’t realise you still held this much love for him. Up until now, you didn’t realise that even after everything, you still needed him.

You needed him.

“What am I going to do without you on the grid?” You asked, your voice was already quiet but it was even more so muffled as you spoke directly into his body.

Daniel chuckled, it vibrated through his chest. “What you’ve been doing this whole time, sweets. You’ll make history. You’ll put the rest of the guys in their places. You’ll be the driver I know you to be.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a few minutes actually, of just standing there and crying into his chest until you snapped out of it. You weren’t dating anymore, your conversations now didn’t last longer than five minutes, it was embarrassing to be losing it in front of him, because of him.

You stepped back and wiped your eyes, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- I just-”

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he breathed out. 

You nodded, because if you tried to say anything else you would be crying again. Daniel held his finger up and walked into the toilets to grab some tissue for you. It took another minute for you to be able to trust your voice again.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” you dabbed at your cheeks, knowing you’d have to go back to the hotel to fix your make up before going out again. 

“I’ve got things lined up,” Daniel shrugged.

“Care to share?”

He tried to hide his smile and failed miserably, “Just don’t be surprised if I show up at the track next year with a microphone instead of a helmet.”

That was about as much he would say as his deal with Sky Sports wasn’t yet official. 

But now you felt more like an idiot for crying about him leaving if he wasn’t even actually leaving. You’d still see him. He’d still be around. You could work with that.

Daniel could still be proud of your accomplishments, even if he was on the sidelines. 

He was, however, a little conflicted when you won the last race of the 2025 season.

You made history in Abu Dhabi. The first female driver to win a race. This was a wall you had spent years trying to crash through and now there you were. On top of the podium, on top of the world as confetti fell to the ground around you, champagne sprayed in all directions. 

This was your moment.

Your win, your first win and all you wanted was Daniel up on that podium with you. As happy as you were to celebrate with Max and George, you couldn’t deny something was missing. 

Because you really could never cut yourself off from Daniel completely, could you? You could try, you could attempt to distance yourself, you could stop the interactions and you could tell yourself you didn’t care but you were right that day you told Lando that Daniel was your missing piece.

So it made sense that you were at a bit of a loss for words when he showed up at your hotel room that next morning. 

You invited him in, despite being slightly hungover. He didn’t care that your clothes were spread all throughout the room, but he did smile at the sight of your trophy on proud display on the table before you had to give it to your engineer for safe travels.

“So this is it,” you sighed, sitting down on the far side of the couch. Daniel sat down as well, the opposite side, arm stretched along the back of it.

“This is it,” he agreed. 

“When does the news drop?”

He clicked his tongue, “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Not sure,” he scratched the stubble along his jaw. “My guess is Lawson or possibly Palou.”

You sat in silence for a while, thankful that it wasn’t uncomfortable because it easily could have been. 

But you both grew this season.

You could both admit now, being in love and being drivers was an unattainable dream.

But you could be drivers and you could still have love for each other. 

You reached across the couch, a gentle smirk playing on your lips as you nudged his arm, “So what are you going to say about me?”

Daniel dipped his head back and laughed, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you shrugged. “Like when you talk about us drivers on Sky Sports. What are you going to say about me?”

“I’m going to say that not only did you steal my seat, but you stole the glory of my last race by winning.”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the sarcasm but you were thankful his words weren’t malicious anymore, “I thought we were past this. I didn’t steal your seat, Dan.”

“No, but I don’t think I can joke about it on air so this is my last chance.”

You reached behind you and grabbed one of the throw pillows, smacking it against his chest. You chose to look at this playfully, instead of it as the inevitable end. 

And Daniel needed a second to think about your question anyway, so the joke was just a way to stall. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t already thought about it considering you were on his mind more than you should have been. 

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the couch cushion. You could see that he was struggling to come up with a good response and you didn’t mean for this. You didn’t want him to think he had to choose his words carefully. 

“Hey,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, “Promise me something.”

You met his eyes, his dark brown eyes that once had such a strong hold over you. You looked at him and remembered why you fell in love with him in the first place. In this moment, it was hard to remember why you ever wanted to stop loving him.

Had you stopped loving him? Did that day really come?

You could have love for someone and not be in love with him anymore, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself in a position where you had to differentiate between the two. You thought, you knew, you would always be in love with Daniel that to sit here and think that maybe, possibly, you didn’t anymore, felt like a betrayal. 

He was supposed to be the one that stood by you through it all. The good, the bad, the wins, the losses. It wasn’t supposed to end with you two sitting on the couch and admitting that this truly was over. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but you always knew it would. 

Fate stepped in and whether you liked it or not, it was forcing you into a goodbye, into an acceptance that your lives would no longer be intertwined, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. 

“Anything,” Daniel spoke softly. Maybe one day he would have said, I’d promise you the world, if you asked, but that seemed a little too forward for the moment.

“Be honest, Dan,” you told him, your hand finding his over the edge of the couch. Your thumb brushed against his fingers and both of you fought the urge to just connect them further. “Tell them my name, but tell them how I got to Formula 1. Tell them it was you, that you helped me pave the way, that you helped me make a name in this sport. Don’t just point to the pictures of me, point to the ones of us. Now that you’re done with racing, I don’t care about the assumptions, the rumours, any of it. Tell people how it really was you and I, how we were the team that should have been, that never was, please,  because even though I know-” 

You paused, taking a second to swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You glanced at your hand and maybe it was you or maybe it was him, but your fingers started to interlock. Your eyes stayed glued to the touch as your last admittance filled the air between you.

“I know I could have made it to Formula 1 without you, but I can’t put into words how thankful I am that I didn’t have to.”

Daniel nodded, because he agreed with you. He knew you could have gotten here without him but he too was grateful he was by your side for the start of it. He agreed that you two really were the team that never was but should have been. He nodded and agreed that he would say all of those things.

But you knew that he wouldn’t.

Those words were for him, not the rest of the world. 

He would tell people that you shined on top of the podium. He would say that the crowds went wild, louder for you than any other driver.

And he would never say that he had any part of shaping your career. Despite you knowing he did, despite the whole world knowing he played a detrimental part, Daniel didn’t hold onto those connections when you went on to race in 2026 and he stood in the commentators box. 

He stayed neutral, surprisingly. 

It helped that he didn’t interact with many drivers or if he did, it was never you. He did talk about you, but only about your performance on the track. His colleagues knew not to bring up your past, not when the only thing that mattered was how well you were doing in the present.

He had some thoughts when you announced you were making the switch to IndyCar at the end of this season, but mostly because you made that announcement before the Monaco Grand Prix, before you claimed the win you were chasing, before you could check off one third of the Triple Crown.

He wanted to pull you aside and question why you were making this choice but he couldn’t. He also couldn’t call you out publicly on air like other reporters had. 

All he could do was hold his breath after you qualified P2 in Monaco. He sat on the edge of his seat, struggling to do his job, struggling to commentate on the race because the second you made the move to overtake Max and it worked, Daniel had to leave the room. 

He had to leave because he knew that if you kept the lead, if you won, he couldn’t celebrate the way he wanted to with cameras on him. Instead, he watched from the privacy of a separate media suite. The broadcast was a few seconds delayed but at least he was able to cheer and be visibly proud of you and not have to hold back when you crossed the line ahead of Max.

You won the Monaco Grand Prix, in a McLaren of all cars, and now he knew what you were gunning for next.

The Indy 500. 

Signing that Arrow McLaren deal ended up being the right move after all.

“Who’s your money on?” James Hinchcliffe asked him as they stood on the pit lane where the teams were preparing for the greatest spectacle in racing. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started, he had an answer. Despite knowing you were still far from winning the Indy 500, his money would always be on you. 

You looked up from where you sat on the Arrow McLaren bench and you smiled at him.

You were having a pretty good season, for a rookie. With O’Ward and Rossi as your teammates, you knew you couldn’t compare, but they were good people to have on your team, in your corner. They helped you, guided you through the shift from Formula 1 to Indy and you could be proud that in a grid of 26 drivers, you were 11th in the standings. 

“Not betting on anyone, James,” Daniel answered, but his eyes were still locked on you and his smirk said otherwise. “It’ll be a good race.”

He could say your name, he wanted to. But Daniel stayed as far away from your life as he could because you decided on it a long time ago and nothing that happened since told him that you’d be going back on that decision, that you wanted him back in your life.

He might not have been a driver anymore, but you still were. So he was content with being civil, neutral. He was fine with the friendly smiles and if an old photo of the two of you circulated every now and again, well, he didn’t hate it. 

He sat with the rest of the Indy commentators during the race. He shared his honest opinions throughout and he, along with the other reporters, praised Alexander Rossi for taking home his second Indy 500 victory, eleven years after his first. 

But that was not the Arrow McLaren driver he wished was celebrating in Victory Lane.

Daniel waited until his job was done, but he knew he had to find you before the day ended. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing twelfth. That was something he was proud of and he hoped you were as well. 

It would only go up from there. The Indy 500 was still an achievable goal. 

He found you in the paddock. It wasn’t hard. You stood out, even in the crowd of people. He waited off to the side and watched you take photos with young girls, young fans that resembled that one girl in Miami, all of them looking up to you and thanking you for paving the way for them, for other females in motorsport.

It was by chance that you looked over your shoulder and saw Daniel standing there. He nodded, wordlessly assuring you that he could wait, to take your time with the fans. 

He ended up waiting almost fifteen minutes. 

Eventually, you started to approach him. Daniel stood up straighter, having been leaning against the Penske trailers until you were done. You still had your racing overalls on, but unzipped and hanging loosely on your hips. The black fireproofs under the papaya looked good on you, but Daniel hadn’t let himself appreciate your appearance for years, he couldn’t start now, even if he really wanted to.

“Hey,” you called out when you were only a few steps away.

“Hey yourself,” Daniel chuckled. When you finally stood in front of him, he was sort of expecting to see a sliver of defeat, but you were happy. You may not have won the 500, but you had a good run and there was always next year. Plus, you still had the rest of the season to finish. The season wasn’t over, you could still make history in this sport. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around, jaw clenched until you finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes. 

“So,” you inhaled a breath. “You’ve got some time on your hands now that you’re retired, right?”

Daniel wasn’t sure where this was going but he laughed and nodded, “Somewhat, yes, but I do still work race weekends.”

“But Monday through Wednesday?”

He pondered it for a second, just for dramatic effect. “I’m fairly open.”

You nodded, hoping for that answer. 

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a conversation you wanted to have with Daniel since he announced his retirement almost two years ago, you just never knew what the outcome would be.

You felt a bit safer now, knowing that he was based out of the UK and your races were only North American. If he hated where you were going with this, well, it was rare you’d be crossing paths so soon afterwards. 

You just had to blurt it out.

“Ever thought about being a trainer?” You asked. “Or a manager? Mentor even? You know- my last mentor walked out on me-”

Daniel cut you off with a booming laugh, “Walked out? Really? Is that what you tell people?”

Him playing along with your humour felt like a weight off your shoulders, “Only if they ask.”

Daniel, finally, didn’t have to refrain himself anymore. He felt confident enough to drape his arm over your shoulders and walk with you down the paddock. For once, he didn’t care if people looked or recorded and secretly, he hoped they did. 

All he wanted was to be at your side. All he wanted was for the world to know he was proud of you, that, if you asked, he’d be back in your corner.

And you were asking.

“So you need a mentor?” He repeated. “A trainer?”

Your hand slipped around his waist. It was natural, comforting, right.

“Well, I need to win the 500 eventually and then I need to get into Le Mans. I can’t do it alone.”

Daniel looked at you, wearing that stupid grin you missed so much even if you had memorised it the first day you met. You missed him, despite hearing his voice on the broadcasts and seeing him in the paddock. You missed him, he was your missing piece after all.

Daniel looked at you, and you knew, you weren’t alone.

__________________

the end ♡

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora @simple-soul-searcher

for some reason im struggling to add people to the taglist, i deeply apologise

[issdisgrace]

Heyy! I have a request.

Literally Patrick Bateman x reader. Patrick is lowkey down bad for the reader 😫

IDK BUT IM SO GAY FOR HIM

HIS

WARNINGS: None

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you like this anon. Also thanks for the follow up message telling me it was x male reader. I appreciated that.

I watch as Y/n discusses something with Paul Allen. His hair was neatly gelled back like usual. His black Giorgio Armani suit, crisp and well tailored to his body and his black Christian Louboutin’s shining, no creases or scuff marks on them. The silver Rolex on his left wrist complimenting the 2 silver signet rings on his left pinky and right index, respectively. He looked like a statue of a Greek god, sculpted to perfection. I wonder how sculpted he is underneath his clothes. Patrick stops. He’s your superior. You shouldn’t be thinking of him in such a way. But look at him, he’s gorgeous. God his voice so deep, so smooth, so perfect like a well-tuned baritone violin. The smirk that dances on his lips fitting him perfectly. Oh god, Patrick stops. 

I pull my thoughts from Y/n and back to the conversation at hand.

“So, Bateman heard you got a new business card. Let us see,” Bryce says. 

I pull my silver card case from the inside pocket of my Valentino Couture suit. Flipping the case open, I take a card out and set it down, sliding it across the table.

“Bone and the lettering is something called Silian Rail.”

“Impressive, but not as impressive as this,” Van Patten says sliding his own card across the table. However, before he can say anything further, he is interrupted.

“Bateman, Patrick Bateman, just the man I was looking for.” I know who it is without looking up, Y/n. I can smell his Dior Fahrenheit cologne. It smells of wood and leather with a nice citrus undertone. My heart skips a beat as I look up at him and meet his eyes. “I have an account I want to bring you in on. I’ve heard good things about you. Heres my card so you can call me later and we can discuss the details.” Y/n says, pulling out a sleek ebony card with Cortez lettering in silver from his own silver card case. The card was just as perfect and as gorgeous as him. Grabbing it from him our fingers brush and I feel a shiver go up my spine. Slotting his card away in the inner pocket of my suit jacket. 

“I’ll definitely give you a call.” I say, reaching out for a handshake. 

“Good to hear.” You say reciprocating the handshake. I feel myself getting a little hot under the collar. Now I’m hyper aware of just how close I am to him. This is the closet I managed to get to him since last year’s Christmas party hosted by whoever. His hands are soft, with a slight roughness to them. I wonder what they would feel like around my neck. I quickly shake myself out of that thought. I pull my hand back despite wishing I could continue to hold his hand. Y/n then bids goodbye before leaving. My eyes trail after him, his cologne still lingering in the air and the only thought in my head is how am I going to get into his bed.

[zeephyre]

CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3 EPISODE 85 SPOILERS

IM LITERALLY ABOUT TO LOSE MY MIND YALL

Where do I even ??? start ???

I haven't been posting c3 as the episodes dropped in...a while actually, like right before they went to the feywild. i have many thoughts and many feelings about so many things that have happened since then and I'll summarise them so I can get to THIS episode.

fearne and ashton - love their shard powers, they're literally royalty and terrifying, and i want them to make-out. i can't wait to see them go full primordial again in a real combat situation.

imogen - save her. literally save her. free her, even. i love everything about the call of ruidus when it comes to imogen on a narrative standpoint, but...God I get so worried that we're gonna lose her. I don't mean she's gonna betray the hells, but...ruidus could take her and then i would simply perish.

laudna - before i really get into wtf went down this episode with her and she who must not be named, i gotta say... im worried. very very worried. however, that fireball was objectively the best shit ever.

fcg - i can't even really remember anything stand out abt fcg except what Sam pulled last night so.

chetney - still the heart of the team, still my baby girl, still my favourite. love him to bits.

orym - i think laudna is going to beat his ass one of these days and im... even more concerned about that after this episode. his nana morri powers are cool as fuck tho... does that make him a warlock now? i know he isn't multi-classing but wouldn't that be cool

ANYWAY WE'RE ON THE FUCKING MOON AND WE GOT MOON LORE AND EVERYTHING WAS SHITTY THEN FUN THEN SHITTY THEN FUN AGAIN THEN REALLY FUCKING SAD THEN IT ALL WENT TO SHIT AGAIN.

the moment imogen reached out to ruidus and matt mentioned that she could sense where other ruidusborn were i fucking knew that otohan was high tailing it in their direction, and i thought they instinctively knew that too but they probably got so distracted.

we were travelling for hours and had a huge fight that almost got them captured (not to be confused with the OTHER two fights that almost got them captured) and I was begging and screaming and crying for them to get a long rest safely hidden away AND THEN THEY SPLIT THE PARTY WITH BARELY ANY SPELL SLOTS OR HIT POINTS AFTER BEING DRAINED FROM ANOTHER BATTLE WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM

(Sidenote, the willmaster really opened up the door to the further increase in moral pondering in a certain number of hellians. i do think using the harness is disgusting and hypocritical, but i don't condemn them for it, it just...makes me wanna vomit thinking abt what ludinus did with it. not to mention the HUNGER parallels between laudna and ludinus...its just not good yall. also??? objectively funny that fcg seemed weirded out by the idea of killing the willmaster, not just with the harness but in general, considering how many people they've killed up to this point)

idk if its just the inherent terror that an evil old hot lady can inspire that makes otohan so much more terrifying to me than ludinus. like, objectively, ludinus is a worse threat and could wipe them out EASILY but jesus otohan is like the damn reaper to me. it's the trauma from the laudna, fearne, orym massacre mixed with the underlying little drop from their uthodurn romp that let us know that resurrection spells are NOT working and idk if that got fixed bc of time passing or distance from the leylines but i really did not want to test that shit out in real time

thank...god that sam riegel is a damn genius player, that banishment of fcg and fearne was the ONLY reason fcg survived. and thank GOD FOR KEYLETH BECAUSE WITHOUT THAT CLOUD SPELL BELLS HELLS WOULD BE VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY DEAD RN.

God, "otohan has us. run." is going to haunt me just as much, if not more than the almost tpk. it just...shot me straight back to bassuras and the plan to run that just...immediately fell apart.

god fcg truly could have died there. and fearne would be captured. i know the hells would be too stupid and too brave and too loyal to leave fearne with otohan in their cloud form but can you imagine a world where fcg was gone, fearne was captured and the hells had to switch from recon to rescue... itd be stressful but pretty fun.

thankfully it didn't come to that and some good came from the shit.

ruidus is so beautiful. i was worried they'd end being trapped under ruidus while they explored (not that I wasn't on board with the detours, I wish this wasn't a time sensitive mission), but matt's imagery of the fossilized elven structure and garden made me sad but also happy that we got to see it.

i cannot believe that the stupid plan to shove fearne up a water hole happened AGAIN and it ended up with us FINDING A BACK HOLE TO RUIDUS GOD I LOVE THESE CHUCKLEFUCKS WHEN IS THE NEXT EPISODE MATT YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME. WHERE EVEN ARE THEY??? IS IT EVEN EXANDRIA???? WHAT DO WE DO IF IT IS EXANDRIA??? WHERE DID THIS HOLE EVEN COME FROM???? DOES IT CLOSE AND REOPEN??? IS IT STAGNANT?????? IS IT FUCKING STABLE?!?!?!?!?!

God...we could go back to keyleth and the others and actually invade ruidus without encountering the ruby vanguard. (that's if they're alright because otohan did go out onto the battlefield and we don't know what fhe fuck she did when the illusion fell through)

GOD. IS IT THURSDAY YET??? WE HAVENT EVEN FOUND THE RESISTANCE????

[zucchiyeni]

Bro my inner be pansexuality be actinup whenever i saw IDOL!AU sanses especially dream gawd demn

Btw is IDOL!Geno was already taken? If not then can I take his place 🫢🫢(sorry if this is asked 2 times rn i literally did that so u wont get tired of scrolling in the notification finding my comment☠️)

Many people already asked me whether they could take some other sanses' official slots, so before more ppl ask me

Sorry but my answer is no, atleast not yet

Since the last wave I was so overwhelmed and stress ( i dont even know why) and i dont like it. My purpose of growing this AU is For Fun, and now im not feeling it lately.

Maybe when things settles down and im feeling better. Maybe, just maybe, i'll be ready for the next wave. I'll neither made them myself or open slots for you guys💞

Untill then, i'll stick with zaddy Kill 😔🖐️ hes literally my coping mechanism rn kkk

[icicleteeth]

I think the crisis is for now (i say for now because im always prepared for something to happen out of nowhere) averted wrt the computer not booting to windows 🥹 I don’t know how this makes sense because the expert that fixed it doesn’t know why this happened either, but something with installing the new cpu fan did something to the slot my storage goes into (it kept boot looping to bios because it could no longer detect my storage at all)

BUT there’s another slot on the bottom of the motherboard we could put it in (it’s below the gpu which is a bit awkward but clearly the original slot wasn’t working) and now it boots 🥹 When i ran tests, xiv stuttered a bit when loading the title screen and character select, but doesn’t stutter in game… bit confusing but im hoping it’s just a quirk with recompiling shaders or the pc acclimating to being changed around (we reseated almost everything and reset the cmos battery and reflashed bios in the process of trying to get the motherboard to detect the storage, so we did do quite a bit)

But!!! Fingers crossed this is the last crisis 🥲 Temp wise, it’s actually been incredible, the new cooler keeps the cpu at mid 50c-60c even in high traffic zones (i used to get low 70s-high 70s constant, which was probably safe but i wanted the extra peace of mind since i am stuck with this 14th gen) Quite literally operating on wishes and prayer with this thing 👍

[thechainbreakingdreamweaver]

well delicious friends, this is it. my last coilheart update.

number one, first off, we FINALLY got another glasswork item for the gloves slot besides the lucky claw. additionally, we got a cthnoscopy home comfort, and a new vanity item depending on what you reflected upon at the end.

now, to the meaty stuff.

wow. i mean WOW. what a finale! and whoever said this event was a plotless grind? (looking at you @thedeafprophet)

first off, the seventh coil itself is an eldrich abomination tucked neatly inside an archfey, and terrifying for it. i wonder if October could beat them in a fight? the portrait was incredibly well done, and i personally liked that we couldnt slay this thing, only make a better form of containment. we quite literally cannot kill something this ancient and powerful, and i really like how the seventh coil seemed to genuinely care for the (former)tiger keeper, and honestly i think they'll have a marvelous romance in there.

now, i didnt regret cashing in my renown, but i do wish i had take more screenshots. there's just so much a journal entry cant convey. i also randomly found an eyeless skull while trying to grind SoTC? guess i can finally do the cave of the nadir.

i do kinda wish we could've continued to explore the outer reaches of the sixth coil, but i suppose that wouldn't have made sense lore-wise. speaking of lore-wise, i hear there was a 100 airs storylet in the sixth coil that had a lot of lore snippets! wiki editors are gonna have a field day with this. along with just the whole revelation that tigers and figerkings can fuse into a horrifyingly powerful parabolan nightmare. i wonder if the silvered future was caused by letting the seventh coil of of it's prison? food for thought.

but im afraid thats all folks, i got no more commentary to give. i cant wait to see all the cool art this ending will inspire, and i love the comfirmation of fingerkings being able to truly love.

now, i have some witcher 3 to play. toodleloo!

[mad-c1oud]

hiiii i just wanted to say that i saved your starcicle fic ages ago when i saw someone on here recommend it so i was like aight bet ill bite lemme save this till my unmedicated adhd is able to slot it in

and last night i had the attention span to slot it in and when i tell you i was up midnight-8am reading your entire discography of fics i mean it. starcicle was all i could think about. and i was neutral on the ship before last night (mainly cause id never really thought about it tbh) ive been inflicted w the rarepair sickness and im 100% here for it (also i adore all of your hybrid headcanons they are Canon to me) that is all and i hope you have a lovely day :3

dude oh my GOOOOOOOOOD

can I just be like, really pathetic for a moment and say that you made me cry a lil. been having a rough go at it recently and here you come, literally so fucking nice unprompted

You read all my fics!!!!!!!! BACK TO BACK!!!!!!!! dude holy shit I have posted 197k just to ao3 are you okay??????

I’ll never ever get tired of people telling they looked at starcicle apprehensively, maybe just curious, before reading my fic and then whoops- infected, brainrotting. It’s literally sooooooooooo gratifying like… I have power hehehehehehe. It’s also really sweet too when people decide to tell me in the first place like now I LOVE YOUUU!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!! /parasocial

Dude thank you sm genuinely, this was such a nice ask to wake up too and it really made my day <3333

[stormyoceans]

It seems to be the reason for the postponement is infact the unexpected engagement and noise it got. They have now decided to do a rerun on Saturdays and to push Last Twilight to Fri. This expalins the reason to postpone the trailer a whole week so the time between the trailer and airing time is closer. What are your options on getting the friday slot instead the saturday slot. Honestly if a show is good people WILL watch whether it's a weekend or a weekend imo think it all comes down to perception

SORRY BUT THIS IS LITERALLY SO FUNNY TO ME IM SUDDENLY NO LONGER UPSET ABOUT THE TRAILER BEING POSTPONED LIKE IMAGINE HAVING SO MUCH SHEER IMPACTICISM THAT IN JUST A FEW HOURS YOU MAKE A WHOLE ASS MULTI MILLION DOLLAR COMPANY REARRANGE ITS ENTIRE SCHEDULE JUST FOR YOU

anyway, i do personally agree with you that if a show is good, people are gonna watch it no matter on which day it airs, but i also know that friday is indeed deemed to be the best time slot because on saturday there can be events and concerts pulling viewers away. of course it's not that convenient for international fans because of the time difference (like for me GMMTV shows air in the middle of the day, which means that if we're getting last twilight on friday im not gonna be able to watch it live with everyone since im still at work at that time 🥲), but GMMTV's priority has always been local, so under this point of view it's giving last twilight the best chance it can get (and it's kinda frustrating that they didn't expect the show to pull those kind of numbers to begin with, but better late than never)

SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS????? JIMMYSEA AND LAST TWILIGHT YOU'RE GONNA BE FAMOUS

[richardsphere]

Leverage Log: The Last Dam Job

"all a man has in this world is three things: His business, his posessions and his name". Well thanks for telling Nate exactly what to take away from you. I'll admit the name might be most difficult but should be doable. "They're my team..." "I certainly know them better then you"... Ok so that explains why we had the cocoa futures con. Because they were trying to seed the idea of a con-by-proxy. But that con relied in it being a mere distraction, which is why they could afford amateurs. Having the professional con-artist see through the con was part of the con. It wont be here.

Which means Nate's gonna outsource this con. Now im putting in the exact time in the episode where im analysing this. Its currently 1:49 in the episode. And im gonna make some guesses as to whom we're getting this episode.

Mastermind, Grifter, Hitter, Hacker, Thief.

I think Nate might still be the mastermind, because he doesnt have to be up front in the con for that. I mean there is

Grifter is gonna be Tara.

Hitter... I dont think we have much for that, there arent a lot of Back-up Elliots around in this show. There's his friend from the Boys Night Out, and there's his distaff counterpart from the Van Gogh Job. (by which i mean the first Van Gogh job, where everyone was up against their equivalents. The woman who was former Mossad or something?) Im betting on her,

Hacker: We literally only have Chaos, if there is a second hacker im forgetting then im blanking entirely. So i think we're going for "tell everyone Chaos will betray them. But we do with what we must" situation.

Thief: Its strange how Parker has three counterparts and everyone else has only 1 or 2 up for grabs. But Thief could be Archie, Himbo-lupin or Apollo. Now i've already bet on at least 2 members of that crew so its not gonna be Apollo, and i dont think Himbo is as likely as Archie is. (especially with last episodes plot being thematically linked to his debut episode, and this being a two-parter that is verry much about family and parental relationships) So my prediction: Nate is still mastermind, but he probably has a decoy. Tara Chaos and Archie are locked in. And I dont think that Distaff Elliot whose name isnt coming to mind RN would willingly work with Chaos again, so probably pull his friend back?

Those are my predictions. Time to let time resume ---" "welcome to the next time". Congrats on the directors and actor for selling a line that stupid. Its not a good line but they somehow made it work. (8/10)

"Dubenich is already in jail what's left to do to him" Sophie, you know Nate. There is so much left to do to him. --- Ok yeah, its a proxy-job like the Futures Con. Also shout out to last episodes creative use for duct-tape as an improv weapon, it was awesome but i didnt feel like stopping to write it. But combined with this seasons use of the Wurlitzer pipe and now the fire extinguishers for a blinding chemical excellerant gun that serves as a bludgeon i want to compliment the fight choreographer or whatever position is in charge of that decision. You did good work this season.

---

So to see if my predictions are right: Quinn. I have to admit i dont know who you are. I think you might've been a hired goon from an earlier episode but I did not remember you. Archie! I almost feel like I shouldn't score you. But also, Parker has the most non-imprisoned foils in the show so you actually had the most competetion for the thief slot. I wonder what is going through Bio-daughter's mind. "Dad has a second family?" Chaos. Because every episode needs a designated moment where the plan seems to get fucked, and a designated traitor was the simplest call.

Im counting three not five. Thats suspicious. Now Tara famously got introduced by being in disguise for an entire episode so she might be a man on the inside when our heists get called. But so far im gonna call it as 2/3, with a possible "nate is still mastermind" for 3/4 ---

Cant really read the glass-board. But also, every bone in my body says this episode could've ended right this moment as Dubenich looks at the glass board. I think it was the Season 1 finale where Hardison blew up HQ? Using Dubenich own signature move against him, in a way that directly parallels the S1 finale? That would've been the move. --- Hardison and Chaos in total agreement for the one time in their life. (they are right, this is legally a batcave)

Archie straight for the jugular. (also tasers, good to see where Parker gets it from) --- "How many fingers do you need to type? round down!" Im sorry for not remembering you existed allright. --- Ooh i love the invasive species ploy. Its simple yet genius. --- Double-heist! Stealing the sword and destroying the entire vault! Dubenich realises he fucked up in his conversation with Nate. (always love it when the mark is just smart enough to realise how he fucked up). --- Elliot almost shooting Dubenich... Quinn and him are bros. --- and that is Maggie! I'll admit, i expected Tara. But i guess she meets the "someone who is not in the game" requirement. Shows got one over on me twice. 2/4.

"if temptation counted as cheating no marriage would last for a year", and going straight for the jugular with Jim. --- Chemical Warfare! Drug a guy and smuggle him off to the fucking Cayman Islands. With all the goods you stole from him. (remember, if Nate has a "signature move" its framing them for Insurance Fraud.) --- -"I do care" -"how does that feel" -"getting used to it" --- "my son would be ashamed of me if I was a murderer... My father on the other hand, he's buy me an ice-cream". good line. 9/10. Ah, Now i understand the importance of the experimental job. Seeding Prisoners Dilemma in the audience awareness so Nate can play them against eachother in the finale. Good one. --- BIG KISS! --- I like how they ask nate if they can keep the cave, like little kids asking their parents about a stray dog that has been following them around.

[rickinboots]

newest rick and morty ep thoughts

so i really liked this episode! last ep i was pretty meh on it, it might actually be my least favorite season premiere. (I don't think it was bad. just not my cup of tea) but I've always enjoyed the rick and jerry centric episodes and this one was really crazy in a fun way. I was thoroughly entertained throughout the entire ep

still sad we're not getting a lot of morty? idk I've noticed as the show fleshes out its plot and side characters, morty is the one that suffers and gets shunted to the side. which is frustrating because the show is literally called rick AND morty

but anyways. newest ep. really fun imo and really goofy. i've noticed a few people saying they didn't like the cold open because of rick's suicide attempt but it didn't really bother me? bro tried to kill himself in the unity episode and only didn't succeed because he passed out. maybe it was less about being JERRY and more all the anxiety and confusion that comes with jerry's brain that pushed rick over the edge

i also think it was sweet how both rick(?) and jerry(?) were pissed/concerned when they heard morty was kidnapped. like they both thought they were rick and the other was jerry to some degree and they still really cared about morty

also im so happy they added the rake joke at the end. i love it

also also you have no idea how excited I was when they brought up memory rick. and we even got confirmation that rick didn't bring him to life. i guess he's stuck in jerry now though. poor fuck lol

though im curious if memory rick would ever run into memory diane in jerry's mind. we don't have confirmation on how old beth was when diane died but I think it must be somewhere after she had summer. there's never been any implication that beth was an orphan so I doubt diane died when beth was still a child/young teen. so that means jerry probably met diane

this is barely tied to the episode i just think it's fun to speculate

finally, i've noticed they've been adding gene in a lot more! i think they might be utilizing tom kenny's voice acting abilities to fill roilands slot for the background characters. i recognized he voiced one of the officers in the epilogue scene in ep 1 as well. i'm very excited about that because tom kenny is awesome

[voxofthevoid]

I voted puppyjou and the more i hear about shibuya swap im not even mad about it. It's been gnawing at my brain since chapter four of the kidnapping fic, where yuuji reminscing about being trapped ("at home" i cannot BELIEVE how close he came to saying that out loud. Yuuji you make me so unwell my fucking god.) in the forest with gojo sounded a lot like he's being domesticated. Like gojo taking his little tiger out for walkies and outside the barrier for enrichment and finger foods :))) seeing that flipped sounded fun, but oh my god.

When you said you were going to put yuuji through the horrors you weren't kidding. Kenjaku raising yuuji uh huh yes please♡

but before that, my favorite lines-

'Brat, Sukuna growls. I’ll eat you alive.

“I’m eating you dead,”'

YESS its so snarly and personal and its not civil, its just not🥰♡ It's seared in my brain, i love it and it sounds like Alt!Yuuji took that and ran. The correct response to Sukuna is eating his everything and leaving nothing, and I can't wait. And of course that means taking all the coolest parts of his design and claiming them as your own!! Irrevocably changed by the horrors we may be, but we look good doing it (●’∇’)♪ doubling the amount of arms, eyes and dicks in a scene sounds like a logistical nightmare lmao you're a legend for making it work. and wait holdup, 'blowing an oversized tongue' is there making out with the tummy mouth👀 i need to mentally prepare for sloppy tummy mouth makeouts oh my god

You 🤝 me on being made unwell by Yuuji. He adapts so well that the *checks notes* isolated forest cabin he’s literally imprisoned in gets slotted into the mental category of “home” in a span of like two months. Normal things! I’m cracking up at “gojo taking his little tiger out for walkies and outside the barrier for enrichment and finger foods,” but it really does feel like that, doesn’t it? Well, Yuuji’s about to get a lot more enrichment in his enclosure—for better or for worse.

If you want the dynamics of the kidnapping fic reversed, more than the Shibuya swap, I have another role/age reversal idea outlined that fits it so, so well—its descriptive title is “domain rape AU” and actual title is i'll be the star (you can be the horrified one), so you can imagine the…themes. But I really need the manga to finish so I can do the idea justice. For now, know that there are tiny hints of puppyjou in the Shibuya swap, mostly Yuuji treating adult!Gojou like he’d treat his teen!Gojou. For example—

“I’m sure he’s trying,” Yuuji says. He pats Satoru, a light touch at the top of his head like he’s a puppy. It stuns him silent. “You always work hard when it matters, don’t you, Satoru?”

“You look so disappointed,” Yuuji says, clearly amused. Satoru tries to school his expression, but too little too late; Yuuji pats his cheek like he’s a puppy. “Don’t pout, Satoru. You’ll get distracted if that thing’s there. And you don’t want that, right?”

The “thing” in that last passage is indeed the belly mouth! I wasn’t planning on adding it, but I did give Yuuji scars where that mouth is and where Sukuna’s extra arms would join his torso, and then my hand slipped, so Gojou mouthing at the scar turned into this: “Flesh splits open against Satoru’s lips, and an obscenely big tongue plunges into his mouth.” It only escalates from there, so sloppy belly mouth makeouts are very much on the menu 😏

…Might be a problem how much of it is there actually. It’s a longass scene. But @nearalways volunteered as my guinea pig (read: they blissfully went to sleep and woke up to 2.3k of Gojou choking on a tongue the size of a dick), and the reaction is very promising. It won’t see the light of Ao3 until 2025 though.

The correct response to Sukuna is eating his everything and leaving nothing, and I can't wait. And of course that means taking all the coolest parts of his design and claiming them as your own!! Irrevocably changed by the horrors we may be, but we look good doing it.

ANON, YOU GET IT!!! I’ve had this HC for nearly as long as I've been into JJK, fueled by how canon handles the marriage of bodies and souls, plus Gojou’s comment about Yuuji inheriting Sukuna’s CT and the fanbook information on what’d happen if Yuuji ate the Death Painting Wombs. Him actually eating them and, as hinted by the conversation with Kamo, inheriting some sort of blood manipulation made me so damn gleeful precisely because of how it could be applied to scenarios where Sukuna stays in him and gets chewed up. Cannibalism is sexy.

Shibuya swap alt!Yuuji’s version of eating Sukuna is a little different than my usual route, but you're right that he took that line and ran with it. That plus being raised by Kenjaku has made extra him fun to write.

Thanks for this lovely ask 💗