#Rolled a 1 on the check Rolled a 20 on the save

[apuckishwit]

See, it's a METAPHOR

A preview of Chapter 31 of Rolled a 1 on the Check, Rolled a 20 on the Save by APuckish_Wit on A03

The boys are acting weird.

Not bad weird or anything. He doesn’t think that anything’s wrong per se. They’re just super giggly and clearly are having private conversations in their Discord messages that they’re not letting him in on. Like…way more private conversations than they usually do during a gaming session.

It's their last gaming session before a two-week hiatus so he can attend Origins (and take a little side trip to Chicago to meet the man of his—increasingly explicit—dreams face to face for the first time and hopefully sweep him off his feet with his epic love confession), and he’s been planning an epic cliffhanger for the last month. He just needs to get Will or maybe Dustin to take the bait and convince the others to investigate the Upside Down version of the mysterious Apothecary Brenner’s estate. Ordinarily he wouldn’t care too much, besides being a little miffed that they aren’t giving his masterful storytelling its proper attention…but Steve’s acting weird, too.

He has been for the last couple weeks, honestly. Again, not so much a bad weird. He’s just been quieter than usual. Distracted, almost. Eddie kind of feels like Steve is only half paying attention to their conversations lately, but when he asks about it, Steve just says he’s fine. Has something on his mind that he’s trying to work out. Eddie tries not to be saddened that Steve hasn’t asked for his help or opinion…Steve’s his friend, not his significant other (no matter how much Eddie’s hoping, praying, and fantasizing that that might be different soon) and if Steve doesn’t want to talk about what’s bothering him, he doesn’t have to.

He tries not to let the weirdness get to him, and in the end it’s actually Lucas who takes the bait and convinces them to check out the apothecary in case there are any healing potions or herbs that could be useful. The boys howl in delighted outrage when Eddie springs his trap—dozens of the sentient vines that have been harrying the party bursting from the floor and walls of the apothecary as soon as they start searching the building and ensnaring Xerxes, Will the Wise, and Sir Stephen as loud, ominous footsteps descend from the building’s upper floor.

“And that, unfortunately, is where we’re going to have to leave it for the next two weeks,” Eddie announces gleefully, eliciting more howls and bright laughter from the boys. “I do thank everyone for joining us tonight, and don’t forget to check out my Twitch and YouTube channels for live streaming events from Origins next week! I’ve got a great panel planned and a few announcements about future projects!” For some reason, that sets off more laughter from Dustin before he quickly mutes his mic, and the boys all sign off much more quickly than usual, until it’s just him and Steve in the Discord.

“You excited for the convention?” Steve asks. In the background, Eddie can here pots and pans being moved, the clink of dishes and running water. He closes his eyes for just a moment, pretending that he’s right there with Steve, the two of them debriefing their day together over the remains of a nice dinner. God, what is his life that he’s fantasizing about clearing away dirty dishes?

It would be worth a fantasy if it was with Steve, though.

“So be honest—scale of one to ten, how fucked are we when whatever it is gets down those stairs?” Steve asks, and Eddie lets out a short bark of laughter.

“Eh, I’m not saying I’ll definitely get my first character kill in…but you might want to have a backup ready.”

“Already done.”

“Is it a human paladin named Stephano?”

“No,” Steve replies in mock-offense. “It’s a human barbarian named Stefan. Totally different.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie says, so much fondness coloring his tone he was sure someone looking at him would be able to see cartoon hearts circling his head. “Dustin will hate it.”

“You say that like it’s not my main motivation.”

Eddie laughs again, gathering his laptop up and heading out into the living room. Gandalf is waiting at the door to his recording room, immediately winding around his ankles as he makes his way over to the couch. A copy of Men at Arms he’d gotten from the local library is lying on the arm of the couch, face-down and open to the page they’d left off on a couple days ago. “You up for more of Sam tonight? We’re getting to the thrilling finale.”

“It’s his wedding—how much more chaos can there be?”

“Oh, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie—haven’t you been paying attention? There’s always more chaos in Discworld.”

“Hah, true. But, um—he and Sybil get a happy ending, right?”

Eddie tilts his head, curious at the sudden shift in Steve’s tone. He sounds almost…tentative. “I mean—do you want spoilers?”

“Maybe? Shut up, I know it’s stupid. I’m just…rooting for them. They’re so different, but they really love each other.”

Eddie can feel the soft, goofy smile splitting his face. “That they do. And yeah, I promise, they get a happy ending. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not perfect. Sam gets caught up in his work…kind of a lot now that I’m thinking about it. But they always make it work. Sir Terry wasn’t real big on fairy-tale perfection. His storytelling is so real. Sam and Lady Sybil…they have problems and challenges, but they just keep, I dunno, choosing each other? No matter what. So the differences don’t matter in the end, and the mistakes can be forgiven.”

Steve is quiet for a moment. “Choosing each other. I really like that.”

Gandalf leaps up on Eddie’s lap, and he absently scratches behind the cat’s ears. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, me too.”

[ciriceart]

Rolled a 1 on the check, rolled a 20 on the save.

[steddierecs]

Rolled a 1 on the Check, Rolled a 20 on the Save by APuckish_Wit

Word count: 111,053 (incomplete) / 30/34 Rating: T Trigger and content warnings: armed robbery, hospitalisation

Summary: A modern AU where, after his relationship with Nancy flames out in spectacular fashion, Steve finds himself feeling increasingly depressed and adrift. With nothing better to do with his time, he gives in when Dustin begs him to join his online DnD game to round out the party. To his surprise, he finds himself really enjoying it--the guy running the game is amazing, and super patient when Steve doesn't get something. He and their DM, Eddie, often find themselves talking on the games Discord server for hours after their session ends. For the first time since Nancy left him, he's starting to feel like things aren't so bleak.

Still, when he has an opportunity to take Dustin and the others to the big gaming convention Eddie's planning on attending a few states away so they can all meet in person for a one-shot session, he's nervous. Really nervous. Like...way more nervous than he should be, just meeting a friend. Eddie IS just a friend...right?

[waywardsalt]

nice to know that that one of the players i fought against in a brief bit of dnd pvp was using a min maxed character and was apparently using fudged rolls

[archivestarlyht]

❝we are the worst people.❞ (Astarion @ Sol)

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐓 𝟏

“we are the worst people,”   astarion mused as they made their way down the rosymourn monastary trail,  ensuring they were well out of earshot of the scholar they had swindled for a wonderful purse of two hundred gold.

the familiar way she had spoken about lae'zel's people had made his skin crawl.  he didn't lash out when his sensible rebuffs were handwaved away (not surprising,  he thought;  these researching types loved to puff on over the importance of their shitty 'experiments'),  rather seeing a fine chance.  upfront payment for such a task,  one,  he stressed,  where they would surely risk life and limb!  and he could be so charming when he actually put in some effort.

for the first time in a while,   sol'rys laughed.  “as though you didn't enjoy it,”   he said.  he took note of how well-used this trail appeared,  much unlike where the society of brilliance scholar had tried to hide herself,  surprised they hadn't encountered any patrols even this distance from the monastary.  “when do you think she will realize we're not bringing back shit?”

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Deathmetal Axe
Weapon (greataxe), very rare (requires attunement) ___ This adamantine axe is covered in narrow cracks, which periodically erupt with harmless, magical flame. Along its haft are four strings: plucking a string creates a deep, bone-rattling resonance from the axe. If you’re proficient with lutes, you are proficient with the “deathmetal axe”, and you can play it as if it were a lute. You gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon, as well as on any Charisma (Performance) check you make with it. Whenever the axe hits an object, the hit is a critical hit. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙨. The axe has 7 charges for the following properties. It regains 1d6 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. If you take 10 or more lightning damage and then use one of the axe’s properties on your next turn, the number of charges required by the property is reduced by 1. 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨. While holding the axe, you can use an action to expend 2 of its charges to cast either the “shatter” or “thunderwave” (2nd-level version) spell from it (save DC 16). 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚. Whenever you take the Attack action with this weapon, you can expend 1 of its charges to replace one of your attacks with a special performance. When you do, make a DC 16 Charisma (Performance) check. On a success, you create an instantaneous wave of sound, which affects creatures within 10 feet of you; friendly creatures within the wave immediately gain 2d6 + 2 temporary hit points, and hostile creatures must succeed on a DC 16 Constitution saving throw or take 2d6 + 2 thunder damage. When you roll a 20 on the Charisma (Performance) check, the radius of your wave increases to 30 feet, and the number of temporary hit points gained and thunder damage dealt is doubled. A creature is immune to these effects if it can’t hear the performance. The wave then fades. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[littjara-mirrorlake]

Plane Shift: New Phyrexia Phyresis Rules 1.0

Contact with Phyrexian creatures and glistening oil can lead to phyresis, a special condition tracked in ten stages. Phyresis is not a disease, so immunity to disease cannot prevent a creature from being afflicted. Phyrexian creatures are immune to this condition.

A creature infected by phyresis experiences the effects of its current level and all those below.

Until level 5, greater restoration may remove a phyresis level from a targeted creature in addition to its other effects.

Every 24 hours, a character who has at least 1 phyresis level must roll a d20. On a roll equal to or less than their current phyresis level, they gain one level.

Phyresis Level Effects

1: No effect 2: No effect 3: Disadvantage on saving throws against being charmed or frightened by Phyrexian creatures 4: No new effect 5: Phyresis can no longer be removed by greater restoration 6: No new effect 7: Phyrexian language proficiency 8: Gain one augmentation for which you meet the prerequisites (detailed in a later installment) 9: No new effect 10: Incapacitated; begin compleation saving throws (see “A Sublime Transformation”) (Below the cut)

A Sublime Transformation

Most compleated adult Phyrexians, including player characters, are capable of compleating other creatures with sufficient ichor and time. A compleated creature retains its original type and racial features but gains the Phyrexian supertype. As a general rule, spells cast using Phyrexian mana that raise a target from the dead will return them compleated, if they were not already.

Much like being raised from the dead, the process of compleation is an exhausting ordeal that saps the energy of affected creatures. A newly compleated Phyrexian takes a -3 penalty to all attack rolls, saving throws, and ability checks. Each time the creature finishes a long rest, the penalty is reduced by 1 until it disappears.

Often, compleation is a process of optimization, reinforcing a creature's existing strengths. In that spirit, compleated player characters may increase one ability score above 20 by subtracting 2 from another ability score for each increase by 1 to the target score, to a maximum of 22. In addition, the compleated character gains one Phyrexian augmentation for which they meet the prerequisite.

Compleation is a unique opportunity for a player to re-work their character, extending to even class and subclass choices. Additionally, the mnemonic nature of glistening oil means that genetic material is not the only thing passed down from a Phyrexian to a creature they compleat. A newly compleated creature gains one skill proficiency possessed by the Phyrexian who compleated them.

Glistening oil carries the voice of Yawgmoth, who seeks to bend all to his whims. When you reach 10 phyresis levels, you must make a DC 16 Wisdom or Charisma saving throw each turn (your choice). The Phyrexian compleating you may grant you advantage on these saving throws. Successes and failures don't need to be consecutive; keep track of both until you collect three of a kind. When you roll a 1 on the d20, it counts as two failures; likewise, a 20 on the d20 counts as two successes. On your third success, you become compleated while retaining your previous memories and convictions. On your third failure, your bonds are altered to serve Phyrexia. You retain your base alignment and personality, but may suffer memory loss. Either way, you lose all phyresis levels and their effects.

Though powerful, the alteration of loyalties during compleation can be undone. Dispel magic or remove curse cast with a 7th-level slot or higher can restore one target creature to its former bonds if its mind had been altered in this way. You can target one additional creature for each slot level above 7th.

[metafoldmaze]

Day 29: Hypno

behold the god of knowledge! been enjoying watching him play Elden Ring lately :]

@hermitadaymay

edit: my brother built him in 4th edition D&D for today! i've placed the character sheet under the cut.

Hypno, Level 9 Githzerai Avenger

Str 11 AC 24

Con 12 Fort 18

Dex 20 Ref 22

Int 11 Will 22

Wis 20 Initiative: +15

Cha 8

Hp: 66 Bloodied: 33 HSV: 16

Healing Surges: 8/8 Speed: 6

Weapons: Falchion: +15 vs. AC, 2d4+7 damage.

Languages: Common, Deep Speech

Skills: Acrobatics +16, Athletics +6, Heal +14, Religion +9, Stealth +14

Githzerai:

Danger Sense: You gain a +2 bonus to Initiative checks.

Defended Mind: You gain +2 to saving throws against effects that daze, dominate, or stun.

Shifting Fortunes: When you use your Second Wind, you can shift 3 squares as a free action.

Iron Mind (1/1 per encounter): Immediate Interrupt, when you are hit by an attack, you gain a +2 bonus to all defenses until the end of your next turn.

Avenger:

Armor of Faith: When you are neither wearing heavy armor nor using a shield, gain +3 AC.

Censure of Pursuit: If your Oath of Enmity target moves away from you willingly, you gain a +7 (2+Dex) bonus to damage rolls against them. (4+Dex at 11, 6+Dex at 21).

Channel Divinity: Once per encounter, you can use a Channel Divinity power. You have the Abjure Undead and Divine Guidance powers.

Oath of Enmity: You have the Oath of Enmity power.

Oath of Enmity (1/1 per encounter):

Minor, Close Burst 10, targets one enemy in the burst that you can see.

Effect: When you make a melee attack against the target and they are the only enemy adjacent to you, make two attack rolls and use the better result. This effect lasts until the end of the encounter or until the target drops to 0 Hp, at which point you regain the use of this power. If another effect lets you roll twice and take the higher result, this power has no effect on that attack. If another effect forces you to roll twice and take the lower result, this power has no effect on that either. If another power lets you reroll an attack roll and you rolled twice because of this power, reroll both dice.

Channel Divinity (1/1 per encounter):

Abjure Undead:

Close Burst 5, One undead creature in burst, +12 vs. Will, 4d10+7 Radiant damage, and you pull the target 6 (1+Wis) squares. The target is also Immobilized until the end of your next turn.

Miss: Half damage, and you pull the target 1 square.

Divine Guidance:

Immediate Interrupt, Close Burst 10: When an ally within 10 squares of you makes an attack roll against your Oath of Enmity target, they can roll twice and use either result.

Equipment: +2 Vicious Falchion, +2 Ghostphase Cloth Armor, +2 Holy Symbol, +2 Amulet of Protection, Standard Adventurer’s Kit

Magic Items:

Vicious Falchion: +2d12 damage on crit

Ghostphase Armor: Daily, Minor: Become Insubstantial until the end of your next turn.

Feats: Versatile Expertise: +1 to attack rolls with Heavy Blades and Holy Symbols (+2 at 11, +3 at 21).

Melee Training: Use Wisdom instead of Strength for Melee Basic Attacks.

Improved Initiative: Gain +4 to Initiative checks.

Miryath’s First Strike: The first time you hit a creature that has not acted yet during the encounter, that creature takes 6 (1+Wis) extra Psychic damage. (2+Wis at 11, 3+Wis at 21).

Rapid Assault: On your first turn during an encounter, you gain a +2 bonus to damage rolls with melee attacks. (+4 at 11, +6 at 21).

Powers:

Bond of Pursuit:

+15 vs. AC, 2d4+7 damage, and if the target doesn’t end its next turn adjacent to you, you can shift 6 (1+Dex) squares as a free action, and must end that shift adjacent to the target.

Radiant Vengeance:

Ranged 10, +12 vs. Reflex, 1d8+7 Radiant damage, and you gain 5 (Wis) Temporary Hp.

Whirlwind Charge (1/1 per encounter):

+15 vs. AC, 4d4+7 damage.

Special: You can use this in place of a melee basic attack when charging. If you do, you gain +4 to AC against Opportunity Attacks you provoke during the charge.

Sequestering Strike (1/1 per encounter):

+15 vs. AC, 4d4+7 damage, and you teleport the target 6 (1+Dex) squares. You then teleport to a space adjacent to the target.

Blade Step (1/1 per encounter): +15 vs. AC, 4d4+7 damage, and you teleport 10 squares to a space that must be adjacent to an enemy.

Resonant Escape (1/1 per encounter):

Immediate Reaction, when you are hit or missed by a melee attack, you can teleport 3 squares.

Aspect of Might (1/1 per day):

+15 vs. AC, 6d4+7 damage.

Miss: Half damage.

Effect: Until the end of the encounter, you gain a +5 bonus to Athletics checks, a +2 bonus to Speed, and a +2 bonus to the damage rolls of melee attacks.

Bond of Foresight (1/1 per day):

+15 vs. AC, 4d4+7 damage.

Miss: Half damage.

Effect: When the target hits or misses you or shifts, the target provokes an opportunity attack from you (Save ends).

Aspect of Speed (1/1 per day):

Effect: Before and after the attack, you shift 5 squares. +15 vs. AC, 4d4+7 damage.

Miss: Half damage.

Wrath of the Divine (1/1 per day):

Immediate Reaction, Close Burst 10. When an enemy scores a critical hit against you, your Oath of Enmity target takes Radiant damage equal to the critical hit’s damage if they are in the burst.

[thisisnotthenerd]

and now the best battles of the intrepid heroes go head to head

feel free to give reasoning/propaganda as you like!

the sidequest poll

quick episode descriptions:

arcade ambush: fighting biz in the arcade. the failed perception checks. getting sucked in and out of the games. riz in the palimpsest. beating a nat 20 in the box of doom. shooting off biz's fingers on the count of three.

broadway brawl: the show must go on. misty having the performance of a lifetime. queen titania. i may be little but i am fierce. esther in the rafters. don confetti. ricky, naked, bodyrolling on misty. stephen sondheim riding a bear. subduing titania with a waist trainer.

blast from the passed: after the trial for gorthalax. completely indecipherable battle. bill seacaster kills gilear. johnny spells can't get a word in edgewise. statistically i have just a good a chance at rolling good as any of you. toxic masculinity is dead, i dance now! riz is blasted off the ship into the iron city of dis.

boys' night (Roll20Con): just the lads, going to a party, where they are supremely uncool. extorting gilear for alcohol [uncle pappy's dag nasty rocket hooch] emergency poem for ragh and corey. stealth mode down the highway. chungledown bim is back. fabian falling under the car with the liquor. warping space time and going to the lan party.

deep bleu sea: peppermint batman is invisible in the darkness. primsy is attacked. jet sends stilton to the bottom of the ocean. shenanigan time. the boats sinking and shifting. cumulous appears. throwing the cheese marauders to induce a dexterity check. can i use swirlwarden to get back into the boat. annabelle in the yogurt

treachery at gramercy: fighting around the umbral engine. ricky's bat counterspell. pete surges twice. cody is a mounted combatant who read dante's inferno. tony simos is a crazy level 20 open hand monk. pete has subtle spell. ricky says tony get fucked and does 90 damage. kingston's spirits of the city. sofia stunning everyone. cody meets lucifer and makes a new contract. sofia pulls dale out of the past and into the present.

battle of the brands: the gang buys truly so much stuff. you are required to do a certain amount of drugs. barry is the angel of mercy. the sisters of the cosmic veil having a bikini party. taking kublacaine. we are the ball. barry taking brutus to the finals on a nat 20. nat 20 death save from aurora nebbins. margaret speaks to the plinth and then is down to 1 hit point. skip crits on the plinth. free teleportation shenanigans are not allowed. gunnie casts explosion. barry rapid shots the plinth and does product placement. operation slippery puppet. am i getting ocean's'd 11'd on my own fucking show? what the fuck is happening? a real son of a bitch is no more. sundry sidney has saved the dog!

terror on toy island: a soft little touch. mer-king's insect plague. no daddy. pib getting the little guys. i'm so fucking scared! the water surges around the mer-king. the terrible dogfish is here. daddy-meter is spinning. pinocchio crits to figure it out. pinocchio screaming to wake the dead. it has asthma! and another thing, with the eyes! you were about to instantly die. gerard is wearing full chain mail in the ocean.. rosamund & ylfa are swallowed. the sea witch shows up. murph causes a nat 20. call of destiny. rosamund gets the eye with a seven. i'm a lion in the water. pib's acrobatic crit. one v. one.

[apuckishwit]

Pining!Eddie and Wingman!Gareth

A preview of chapter 25 of Rolled a 1 on the Check, Rolled a 20 on the Save by APuckish_Wit on AO3

Eddie is awoken by sharp rapping on his front door, at an hour that is entirely too early to be conscious when he has nothing scheduled for the day.

He groans as he rolls over in bed, dislodging Gandalf from his back with a grumpy mrrow. He runs his hand over the cat’s head in apology, grabbing his phone from his nightstand and squinting at the screen. “The fuck?” he mumbles.

“Eddie! Eddie I know you’re in there! Open up!”

Gareth.

“The fuck,” he mumbles again, with more feeling this time, rolling out of the bed and not bothering to throw on a shirt over the boxers he slept in last night. If Gareth wants to bother him at ass o’clock in the morning, he can damn well deal with Eddie not feeling like getting dressed just yet. Smacking his lips and grimacing at the sticky crust of drool at the corners, he pads out to his living room and opens the door, scooping Gandalf off the floor with practiced ease when he makes his predictable break for the freedom of the hallway.

Why he wants to get out into the hallway is anyone’s guess, as he always immediately starts scratching and yowling to be let back in if Eddie closes the door behind him, but he tries every time.

“Dude, seriously? You couldn’t put some clothes on?” Gareth scoffs as he shoves past Eddie, not waiting for an invitation.

“You have literally seen me naked,” Eddie says, shutting the door and letting Gandalf slip from his arms.

“Not willingly!”

Yeah, it was kind of hard to get privacy in a studio apartment with a postage-stamp sized bathroom…but Gareth had been letting him couch surf there for free, so he hadn’t exactly been able to complain.

“So, not that I’m not happy to see you, but what errand is so momentous that it requires you to come knocking on my door at this obscene hour?” He shuffles into the kitchen and hits the switch on the coffeepot, before pulling the fridge open and examining the contents. “You want a bagel?” he asks after a moment, digging a bag of poppyseed bagels, some cream cheese, and strawberry jam out.

“Nah, I ate on the way over,” Gareth says. He’s making himself at home at Eddie’s small kitchen table, pulling notebooks, pens, and highlighters out of his messenger bag. Eddie raises an eyebrow, propping his hip against the counter while he waits for his bagel to toast.

“Are we doing homework?”

Gareth spins a pencil in his fingers the way he used to spin his drumsticks, stabbing it towards Eddie with a determined glint in his eye. “Yes. We are coming up with a gameplan to figure out if you have a shot with Steve.”

Eddie blinks. “We’re doing what now?”

“You heard me. You’re pining, Munson. Like, I haven’t seen you down this bad for someone since Jackson.”

Eddie winces at the mention of his ex—his longest relationship to date, the man he’d been considering introducing to Wayne. He’d been ready to talk about moving in together, maybe even getting engaged, when Jackson had blindsided him by taking a job overseas. Hadn’t even talked to him, first, hadn’t even told Eddie he was considering it. He’d tried to spin it as not wanting to be influenced on such a big decision about his future. His future, not their future.

Yeah, they hadn’t lasted long after that.

Gareth’s face softens a little. “Sorry,” he says, voice sincere and contrite. “But the point stands.”

“Gar,” Eddie sighs, raking a hand back through the tangles of his hair. “We’ve talked about this. He had a long-term girlfriend—like, high school sweethearts shit. He hasn’t said anything, but I’m pretty sure he’d have married her if she hadn’t broken it off with him.”

“Valid data, but not conclusive,” Gareth counters. “Jeff had a couple long-term girlfriends too, and he and Aidan are going strong. Also bi people exist, Eddie.”

“I know that! And Jeff was so far in the closet before he met us, he was having tea with Mr. Tumnus,” Eddie says with an affectionate laugh. “Steve does not give me that vibe. The closet vibe or the bi vibe.” He fixes a couple of coffees to his and Gareth’s liking, and then sits down across from Gareth with his breakfast. He takes a couple morose bites of his bagel. “Dude, look. I appreciate it. I really do. But I did the whole ‘falling for straight boys’ thing in high school and it never brought me anything good. Steve’s a really great friend. I’m fine with that.”

Gareth tilts his head, staring at Eddie with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Anyway, so Jeff, Aidan, and I went back and watched all your streams with him. Side note, Aidan thinks he sounds hot, is he hot? I don’t care, but Jeff and Aidan really wanted to know.”

“So hot,” Eddie sighs, though he doesn’t mention how he knows. That video was public knowledge, but he doesn’t feel like getting teased for cyberstalking. “Like…he’s beautiful, man.”

“Mmhmm,” Gareth hums, making a notation on his notebook. Eddie huffs, reaching across the table to grab the top of his pencil.

“Gareth, seriously. I love you so much for what you’re trying to do, but there’s no point. I’ll get over him, eventually.”

“Ah, but you haven’t heard my rationale, yet.”

“Oh, there’s a rationale? Do tell.”

“I will. And that rationale is…we think he’s flirting with you, too.” It’s not quite a record-scratch moment, but it comes pretty close. Eddie freezes, staring at his best friend. Gareth smirks at him, leaning back in his chair. “Yup. All three of us. We watched all the streams you’ve put up, and we each wrote down any time we thought Steve was doing something we’d interpret as flirty and when we compared notes, they were almost identical. And that’s not even counting all the people in your views who think there’s something going on between you two.”

“You…you guys ran an experiment about this?” Eddie asks slowly, unsure if he’s grateful or horrified that his friends care so much about his (non-existent) love life.

Gareth waves him off. “Sort of. Point is, as two men in a committed relationship and one man who spent a not-insignificant amount of time in high school trying to sus out if people were serious or just messing with you when they were making eyes at you—we think this bears further investigation.”

Gandalf curls around Eddie’s legs, meowing pitifully until Eddie picks him up and swipes a smear of cream cheese onto his thumb for Gandalf to lick. “I don’t know,” he says, voice wavering even to his own ears. “I feel like I would have noticed if Steve was flirting with me.”

Gareth snorts into his coffee. “You absolutely would not. You put the moves on anything with a pulse, but you’re always shocked as fuck when anyone reciprocates.”

And that’s…okay, yeah, that’s a fair point. Still, Gareth doesn’t have to say it out loud and shit. “Rude,” he mutters, taking a drink of his coffee.

“But accurate. So, how ‘bout it?” Gareth hovers his pencil over the notebook, waggling his eyebrows. “Even if we’re wrong, at least you’ll know.”

Eddie gnaws on his lip a moment, scratching behind Gandalf’s ears. There are a myriad of reasons not to rock the boat—not least of which is the fact that he’s still not convinced Steve is anything but straight. That—that would’ve come up in their conversations at some point by now, wouldn’t it? And even if he’s not, how compatible are there lives, really? They live on opposite sides of the country, and Steve seems pretty set on building a life in Chicago.

Not that—not that Eddie’s, like, super invested in Seattle. He can do the work he does anywhere, really, and Chicago is a hell of a lot closer to Wayne. Not that…whoa, not that he needs to be thinking in those terms right now. Or ever, really.

Just…

He thinks of how easy it is to talk to Steve. How much he likes reading to him, listening to him ramble about how his favorite teams are doing in their playoffs as he putters around in his kitchen. How much Steve seems to like listening to him go off on any of the subjects that have caught his attention, asking thoughtful questions and remembering important points weeks later. They are so, so different, but they just mesh, making room for each other in their lives and being happy with the space they each take up, and all without ever having met face to face.

He shouldn’t encourage Gareth. He is rapidly realizing that Steve is pretty much everything he’s ever wanted in a man, but he is not lucky enough for life to have just dropped someone like that in his lap and have an actual chance with them. Life only works that way in his stories and games.

Still…would it hurt to know for sure? If—if there is a chance that Steve would reciprocate his feelings.

Oh holy fuck, if he did reciprocate…

“What do you have in mind?” he asks, leaning forward as Gareth’s grin turns as pleased as a cat who’s caught the canary.

[percentageweirdo]

Fantasy High stats

A summary of statistics from season 1.

I have only counted d20 rolls, and only by the players as it is pretty much impossible to track Brennan's rolls. I only counted nat 20s, nat 1s and "other rolls" since the players do not consistently announce what they got on the die. I also kept track of advantage and disadvantage but I am sure some of those slipped by me unannounced.

ALL ROLLS:

As you can see, the vast majority of rolls by the players are skill checks — just over 60%.

PERCENTAGE OF NAT 20s AND NAT 1s:

This chart is really the star of the show! It is why I started this whole godforsaken mission in the first place.

NOTE: This chart is tracking percentage of each player's individual rolls! It is not representative of raw numbers, but instead each column is relative to that player's total d20 rolls this season.

For this one I factored in the advantage and disadvantage rolls, and any way you slice it Zac still rolls the most nat 20s by far.

What surprised me was that Ally rolls proportionally the most nat 1s. That has somehow not entered into the consciousness of the fandom at all, maybe because they roll the fewest dice so the raw number of nat 1s isn't the highest. Conversely, Emily rolls the fewest nat 1s! Murph has rolled more nat 20s than Lou, but he also rolled the most dice so he rolls proportionally fewer 20s.

ATTACK ROLLS:

Gorgug and Fabian go toe to toe in most number of attacks made overall, and both get to make multiple attacks per turn. Riz shoots his arquebus a decent amount. Fig and Kristen barely attack, instead relying on spells that require saving throws. Adaine has some offensive spells, as well as an affinity for fisticuffs.

SKILL CHECKS:

The players roll perception checks more often than any other kind of check, followed by insight and investigation. They don't make any nature or survival checks. As a mystery that takes place in a large town, that absolutely tracks.

ABILITY CHECKS and SAVES:

Sometimes Brennan asks the players to make a check based on a prime ability score. Not very often though.

The saving throws the players make the most often are Dexterity and Wisdom. They don't roll any Intelligence saves.

DEATH SAVES:

There is not a single nat 20 death save in Fantasy High season 1.

OTHER ROLLS:

It is probable that Siobhan made 14 portent rolls — however, she only uses 13 of them. In the house party fight she rolls a d20 three times to see if she is able to use Blink. (Two succeed.) Lou and Emily each make a luck check this season, and in the finale Murph rolls to see if the police get there a total of 10 times. During the fight on the Bloodrush field Emily makes one joke roll to see how gross her spit is. And of course, Ally rolls an absolutely wild nat 20 in part 1 of the finale.

That's it for now! Follow for more Dimension 20 stats, and stay tuned for Bloodkeep.

[psychhound]

yall i was searching for something in my google docs and just found possibly the funniest d&d homebrew i couldve ever made i dont remember this at all but im weeping

HEY DO YOU WANT SOME UH,,, ALLERGIES

IF YOU WANT YOUR CHARACTERS TO HAVE ALLERGIES HERE YOU GO

choose a number of allergy triggers from this list: 

specific animals 

specific foods 

plants and plant-based spells or effects 

specific materials or magical items

monster types (beasts, celestials, dragons, etc) 

magical damage types 

specific spells 

specific magical effects 

schools of magic 

spellcasting classes or subclasses 

choose between hay fever, nausea, or anaphylaxis for each allergen  

upon exposure to the allergen, make a DC 10 constitution saving throw. on a successful save there is no effect. on a failed save refer to your chosen allergy symptom 

hay fever: you enter the poisoned condition. your sneezing alerts enemies within 300 feet to your presence. you can make a DC 15 con save at the end of each of your turns to remove this condition 

nausea: you enter the poisoned condition. you must pass a DC 10 con save at the beginning of each of your turns in order to take bonus actions and movement, and beat a DC 15 in order to take actions. on a con save of 20 or higher the condition is removed 

anaphylaxis: you enter the incapacitated condition. you must pass a DC 10 con save at the beginning of each of your turns or your movement speed is halved. on a con save of 5 or lower you enter the stunned condition. on a con save of 20 or higher the condition is removed 

if you are under the allergy symptom condition and roll a natural 1 on a con save, you immediately enter unconsciousness but are stable and do not make death saves 

lesser restoration, protection from poison, and lay on hands all remove the allergy condition. protection from poison does grant advantage on allergy saving throws 

THERE YOU HAVE IT ????? ENJOY ........ THIS.

(for more 5e homebrew including free disability stuff check my pinned!!)

[darlingdia1007]

OMG hi I saw that you ate taking requests and I just HAD to request.

Could you maybe do a Stanley x F! Reader where they are an old married couple and resder is angry about something and keeps cussing and being a meanie. The twins are scared and looking at grunkle stan for help about this and to calm Reader down before she sets the shack on fire but Stanley just says this is normal and he intact finds it incredibly hot.😜😜

Beating the heat

(Thank you for requesting this one. It seems very silly honestly. I do apologize, it’s been a while since I’ve written a fanfic.)

It was around 1:30pm when the temperatures had reached its highest of 105° degrees and the AC wasn’t working correctly in the shack. Stepping outside wasn’t the best idea either since the wind would only blow hot air.

Stan and his wife were sitting at the kitchen table as they began debating if they should close the shack since it would become a bigger issue as the day went on. This heat was slowly getting to (Y/N) very quickly. Placing her hand on the collar of her shirt, she began to fan herself with her shirt. Beads of sweat slowly moved down her face as the breeze she created felt amazing.

“Even when you’re melting over there, I bet I can Make you melt in other ways~” a scraggly voice said in front of you. Stan had made one of his “flirty” remarks at you. Most of the time you would love them and shoot one back his way, but dear lord was it a bad time. “Hun, Right now isn’t the best time.” She said as she looked at him and rolled her eyes. This heat was really getting to her now. “Oh come on, you love that one!” He remarked as he got up from his chair.

Sometimes, even after the 30 years the two had been together, married, she could still get mad at him for reals sometimes. This was one of these moments. Getting up from her chair, she had quickly put your chair back into its place and entered the gift shop. An Idea that would probably save her life but she couldn’t do it till everyone was out of the gift shop.

Reaching for the open sign, she switched it to closed as to let people know they will be closed for the rest of the day. Now the only issue was getting people to leave the gift shop. Sitting herself down at the register, she began helping people pay out one by one. Around 20 minutes later, the last customer left. She smiled and waved goodbye to the woman and hurriedly locked the door.

A sign of relief left her lips as she ran a hand through her graying hair. Stepping away from the door, she went to the vending machine and began typing in the familiar code as she made her way down the stairs.

—————————————————————

“Grunkle stan, Why does Grauntie (Y/N) seem… mad?” Mabel had squeaked out from around the corner when leaving the gift shop and entered the living room where her grunkle was seated while watching the TV. “Mad? What do you mean kiddo?” He looked at Mabel in confusion when Dipper came from behind his sister. “She was all pushy and grouchy towards the customers when she was checking them out. She was also sweating pretty hard.” He wiped the sweat from his hands as he soon realized it was getting a little hot.

Stan sat there for a sec and an idea popped into his head, “Kids, go get your swim suits, we’re going to the pool.” Shouts of excitement lept from the kids.

——————————————————————

“Ford… hello?” She had made it to the last couple of steps as she placed her foot on the solid floor. It was surprisingly cold down here so the biggest smile crept onto her face. Standing next to the stairs, she closed her eyes and embraced the cold that was creeping over her body. Unknowingly to her, her brother-in-law heard her and was walking towards her. “Yes?” He asked as he looked at her.

“Oh good, you’re here! I need to ask the biggest favor.” She pleaded as she looked at him. “The AC is broken and I have no clue what’s wrong with it. Could you please save me and fix it? I’ll make you those sugar cookies you really like.”

His attention was quickly caught on when he heard that his favorite dessert was about to be made for him. “I’ll get right to it then.” A small smile was placed on her face as she began to go up the stairs when she heard a familiar voice that she was a little annoyed at.

“(Y/N) are you down here? Honey?” It was Stan. Her smile left her face when heard her husband calling her name. Finally making it to the surface, she came face to face with him. “God you look so hot when you’re feisty.” He quickly grabbed her and spun her around. She couldn’t be mad at him for long after that. A small kiss was placed on her lips as she held onto him, slowly melting at the affectionate she was being given from him.

“See, I told you I could make you melt.” He laughed as her face quickly became sour and pushed him away. “What? I can’t like my women a little feisty?! Hey, go get your bathing suit, I’m taking you and the kids to go swimming to beat this heat.” He began walking back to the living room as (Y/N) stood there at the small gesture.

Walking upstairs to their bedroom, the sounds of floorboard creaked as she made her way to their shared bedroom. Quickly reaching to the dresser to pull out her swimsuit, she placed it on the bed and grabbed the sunscreen, sunglasses, and the beach bag. Everything was packed and ready for the pool. The sounds of laughter could be heard from the outside porch as the twins were talking to each other. Mabel seemed to be the most excited out of the two of them though.

“Honey, we gotta be home before 5, I still need to make the cookies I promised your brother.” You had said as Stan walked out in his swimsuit. Those adorable striped swimsuits would never get old.

[katewritesthings]

Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 2

Chapter 2 // How to Touch a Girl

•warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

The first time Diana woke up the morning after her birthday was actual torture, she was sure. The need to empty her bladder caused her to wake far earlier than she would have liked, early morning light barely making it through the blackout curtains that decorated her bedroom. The redhead carefully disentangled herself from the limbs of her sister and friend and climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone from beside her on the bed. Making her way to the ensuite bathroom, Diana immediately regretted unlocking her device for two reasons. First the dull ache in her head made itself known the second the light hit her eyes in contrast to the dark bathroom. 6:21 AM . Second, was a series of text messages from a number not saved to her phone that she decided could wait before she absolutely exploded. After washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face, Diana braced herself and opened the text thread.

+1(617)-555-1425 9:36 PM    you look sooo good in your IG pics 11:15 PM ugh i wish i was with you rn 12:20 AM cmon di. dont be a btich text me back 1:37 AM Ungrateful bitch.  2:39 AM   i see. youre out there fuckin with someone new. Thats  wh you wont text me back. He’ll just get bored of you like I did.  2:41 AM How long before he starts fucking yor sister 

Disappointed that the Boston area code and the content of messages meant the sender was clear, Diana quickly locked her phone and dropped it on the counter. She couldn’t deal with Connor right now. Leaving her phone in the bathroom, Diana crawled back into bed, thankful that she insisted on a “sleepover” last night and wasn’t alone to spiral.

The second time Diana woke up was slightly better than the first. She was alone in bed and her headache eased to a dull thumping, a glass of water on her bedside table. Emptying the glass in one go, Diana searched for her phone. A string of curses rang through her head when she remembered the reason that it was not beside her. After a dramatic sigh, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the light, looked in the mirror for the first time that day, and groaned out loud. Light reddish-purple bruises littering her neck and collarbone were visible under the sports bra she was wearing.

Annoyed with herself, Diana picked up her phone and checked the time: 12:12 PM. When she unlocked the device the messages from Connor were still open on the screen. While the reason for his vitriol was now apparent, clues painted on her skin, it didn’t make it justified. ‘It wasn’t like I had sex with Joe,’ she thought, ‘ And even if I had, I’m single and can fuck who I want. 

Diana blocked the number but kept the text thread to show Biz later and moved on to check her other notifications, some birthday wishes from people who couldn't make it last night and a missed call from Cathy at 9:30. Diana decided could give her manager a call back later and was replying to all of the messages and comments as she walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her sister.

Biz, who was standing at the stove cooking bacon and French toast, spoke as Diana walked in eyes glued to her phone. “Gooood Morning beautiful, Happy actual birthday,” the younger woman sang in a joking manner. “Taylor left, she had to catch a flight for the awards tonight.” She paused a minute before excitedly saying, “There was a delivery for you this morning.”

Diana looked up at her last statement, confused even more at the smirk on the brunette’s face. “What delivery?”

Biz didn't respond except for pointing her spatula towards the living room, signaling Diana to investigate. Rolling her eyes, Diana did as she was told, walking farther down the hall to figure out what her sister was talking about.

She was not expecting multiple bouquets of roses placed in every nook and cranny they would fit to be decorating the living room. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, making her way toward the largest bouquet on the coffee table in the center of the room, silently counting the number of arrangements. Nine. 

‘What a strange number,’ she thought as she picked up the card attached to the large bundle of roses, looking out of place on the coffee table next to her TV remote.

Tried to get your number Cathy with no luck. Now who’s curving who? 513-555-6947 JB

Warmth filled Diana’s body as she reread the card for the third time, trying to make sense of it. Pulling up Cathy’s contact information on her phone and pressing call, she turned to see Bizz in the doorway smiling like the Cheshire Cat. 

“Soooo… who are those from?” Her tone gave her away, she already read the card.

“Fuck off,” Diana mouthed just as Cathy answered her phone, turning back to the flowers. “Cathy Allred,” the older woman answered cheerfully. “Hey, Cath, this is Di. I was just giving you a call back and wondering if you knew why there were 10 gigantic floral arrangements in my living room?” Diana greeted, attempting to keep her annoyance at her sister out of her voice.

Cathy’s throaty laugh came through the speaker and Di could imagine her expression was the same one that Biz was wearing. “Oh, honey. That handsome football player from last night was leaving messages at the buttcrack of dawn trying to weasel your number out of me. When I told him that I couldn’t clear that without your direct consent, he asked if he could send flowers to our office and have them forwarded to you if security approved the message. We just didn’t expect 9 separate bouquets.”

Diana was in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received flowers unrelated to work.

“Well, uh, thank you, Cathy. That’s all I wanted. I’ll talk to you Wednesday,” Diana ended the phone call, still staring blankly at the literal dozens of roses sitting in her house. “Soooooo,” Biz’s voice came out in her signature sing-songy tone.  “Are ya gonna text him?” 

Diana bit her lip. “Well, I guess I should, right?”

She could feel her anxiety creeping up in the back of her mind, almost like frost crystallizing on glass in the winter. The first voices of self-doubt were beginning to scream you’re not good enough for him and he’s only going to break your heart when a hand on Diana’s shoulder refocused her.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di,” Biz’s comforting words filled her ears. “He’s a really hot guy who is into you, so I’d say go for it. Texting him doesn’t mean you’re getting married next month, babe. But you were humping his leg like a dog in heat last night, so it probably would be proper etiquette to at least acknowledge his existence.” As was exiting the room laughing at her own joke as she said the last part. Diana rolled her eyes and thought about her sister’s advice. Joe really was an attractive man and all signs were pointing to him being attracted to her. Their physical chemistry last night had been off the charts and even though they didn’t discuss anything super deep, she was engrossed in the conversation, always wanting to hear what Joe had to say next. She was going to do it, she was going to text him.

She added his number to her phone and began debating how to start the conversation. After drafting and redrafting the generic ‘Hi! It’s Diana” messages for nearly two minutes, she finally settled on one that would let Joe know who she was.

Joe (Quarterback) 12:32 PM    you left before saying bye last night, i’d say you’re still curving me.

Phone in hand, Diana made her way toward the smell of brunch. Before she could even make it to the breakfast nook her phone buzzed in her hands signifying she had received a text.

Tee wasn’t feeling great, I had to dash. Let me make it up to you. I’m in NYC until Monday night.

Butterflies filled Diana’s stomach as her eyes scanned the messages she had just received. Joe didn’t leave the party because he was embarrassed by their hookup like her anxiety had been trying to convince her. He had a legitimate reason and he wanted to see her again to make up for it. Before she could let her nerves stop her, she fired off a reply to Joe

i’ll hold you to it. 😜 i’m free all day tomorrow.

 Diana didn’t even get a chance to lock her phone before a new message appeared on her screen.

Not anymore. Lunch?

She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger making her stomach turn the way it was, so she decided to load up her plate before responding. 

After eating a decent amount of brunch and taking a well-needed shower, Diana was lounging in her bed, Parks and Recreation on in the background, staring at Joe’s texts. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head about what her response should be. As much as she wanted to see Joe again, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear. Sure Joe seemed nice, but Connor seemed nice enough at first. She knew her ex had just sent the hateful texts to get under skin, but he knew which blows hit the hardest.

“Biiiiiiz! Come in here!” she shouted from her spot on the bed, in a frustrated squeal.

“What’s the matter?” The brunette questioned, popping her head through the door. “I think I agreed to hang out with Joe tomorrow and I’m scared,” Diana whined, dragging out the vowels in the word ‘scared’.

A snort came from Biz as she made her way fully into the room. “He’s a man, Di, not a monster. Why are you scared?”

Diana knew this was the moment that she should share that Connor had texted her this morning, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Instead, what came out was a pitiful gasp for air that made Biz by surprise.

“Just, what if I’m supposed to be more healed than I am,” Diana breathed, tears in her eyes. “Like, what if Joe turns out to be as good as he seems? Doesn’t he deserve more than this heartbroken version of me? I’m barely myself again, Biz.”

“I think you should at least hang out with him and see where it goes. Worst comes to worst, you guys know you’re physically into each other,” Biz teased. Diana rolled her eyes, “What if he’s expecting to fuck and I’m not ready?” Biz shot her sister a look. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di. But let’s be real, you need to get dicked down. How long has it been?” Diana rolled her eyes again, not wanting to acknowledge she was currently on the longest dry spell she’d ever had. Things in the bedroom aspect of her relationship with Connor never really met her standards, always dissatisfied. The past six months of their relationship had consisted of barely any intimacy, Connor claiming he wasn’t attracted to Diana at the moment. Turns out, he was just getting his needs met by her best friend. “You’re right,” Diana gave in, texting Joe back.

1:26 PM deal, burrow. tomorrow at noon. Italian or Mexican? Shit. Just got word that public restaurants are a no-go. its okay. we can do pizza and sweets at my place

A new fear ran through Diana’s head as soon as she heard the “swoosh” sound from her head. “What if-” Diana was cut off by her sister throwing a pillow at her face. “Shut up,” Biz said in a more serious tone than before. “I get that you’re nervous, but stop coming up with these what-ifs. Smoke about it and attempt to channel your thoughts into something productive.” With that, Biz left the room.

Diana knew her sister was right. Not only did she tend to handle her anxiety better if she was channeling it into something productive, but she was behind on writing. Cathy had told her that the songwriters she was meeting with on Wednesday were expecting the start of at least six new songs and at this point, Diana only had four songs, three of which were fragments.

Lighting a preroll from her bedside table, Diana reached for her notebook, anxiety still at full force. As she hit the joint, she began to scribble down the thoughts that were looping in her head in an attempt to get them to stop.

I know that I’m better than this heartbroken version of me What if he can't compete with the things that I'm scared of that keep love from me? I get so attached and when it ends and the comedown hits I just end up hating me The energy that it takes to be somebody’s somebody just ain’t in me.

After she had stubbed out her joint, the voice of Diana’s anxiety had dulled to a whisper and her mood had lifted considerably. When Diana looked up from her notebook and checked her phone she saw two new messages from Joe.

Awesome. Can’t wait to see you.

What are you up to?

Smiling to herself, her fingers glided across the screen to type out that she was writing, hoping it could turn into a song and returning the question. Joe must have had his phone in hand because within record time her phone was signaling a new message.

Just left lunch with the guys, can I call you?

The butterflies from earlier had returned with a vengeance accompanied by a warm flush taking over her body. Within seconds of replying with an affirmative text, her phone was ringing in her hand indicating she was receiving a FaceTime call from Joe. “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, internally cringing at her appearance in the camera. Her long hair was still wet from the shower and braided into Dutch braids down the side of her head and she had placed two star pimple patches on her forehead and chin, not expecting to see anyone but Biz. “Hey! You look great,” Joe responded, white smile beaming at Diana. He appeared to be sitting against a hotel headboard, dressed in a black Bengals hoodie. 

“No one likes a liar, Joe,” Diana smiled. “Wasn’t expecting a video call.”

“I just needed to make sure you were who you said you were,” Joe countered, smile turning into a playful grin. “Can’t be making plans to hang out with some rando, you know.” Diana rolled her eyes and placed her notebook on her bedside table, the action drawing Joe’s attention. “I’m sure girls are tripping over their own feet to eat lunch with you,” Diana let out a small laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I am myself and you have agreed to hang out with me. Now, if you’ll agree after this time, that’s a question for another day.” “Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?” Joe quirked an eyebrow, a grin still covering his beautiful mouth.

“Well, first of all, we’re getting pineapple on our pizza. Second of all, I planned on finishing my puzzle tomorrow, so you’re now getting roped into that.”

Laughter filled the speakers before Joe’s voice said, “Well, first things first, pineapple on pizza is the right decision… But a puzzle, really? What are you, 73?”

Diana was pleasantly surprised at the ease of carrying on a conversation with Joe. She had assumed that alcohol had lubricated their last interaction, but the way the conversation flowed for the next hour proved that wrong. Joe teasing her for doing puzzles led them to talk about their other hobbies which led to them talking about what started them on their careers.

“Yeah, so I’m hoping to be back by preseason, but there’s no guarantee. I just feel like I’m letting the team and the fans down, y’know,” Joe finished explaining his injury, something Diana had known the bare minimum about before this conversation. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side. “Sorry to overwhelm you.”

“No, please don’t ever apologize for sharing your emotions, Joe. You can’t hold everything in because you’re afraid of being judged.” Diana’s heart tugged for a moment, imagining how Joe must feel after the season he had last year. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was someone he could share with even if this went nowhere.

“Okay,” Joe nodded, but still changing the subject, “So, what about you? Any new music I get to look forward to?”

Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Connor was never interested in her career, implying that the music his band made was better and more meaningful. It felt nice to have someone who wasn’t her sister inquire about the progress she was making on her new album. “Actually, I have a few writing sessions over the next few weeks with my label and some producers and start recording some new stuff in March. We’re planning on turning the EP into an extended into a standard album” “Oh, yeah? Do you have a lot of material?” Joe asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer. “Uh, actually, I didn’t. I’ve been writing a lot recently, though, so hopefully..” Diana trailed off, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show up on Joe’s end of the video call. It was embarrassing enough to admit to herself that she had been more inspired since Joe appeared in her life than she had been in six years, but she’d die if he figured it out.

After a few more minutes of talking, one of Joe’s teammates knocked on his door causing Joe to get off the phone. They had been on the phone for an hour, but Diana was sure she could have talked to him for three more. Diana spent the rest of her night watching the Grammys on her couch. Diana’s team still thought it was best if she stayed home this year as Connor’s band was up for nomination and they wanted to avoid as many headlines about the two as they could. They insisted that Diana stream from home and interact with fans while the awards were happening, which worked out okay in her book. She had fun posting on her Instagram stories rooting for the artist she was friends or a fan of, secretly rejoicing when Bedford Scrolls lost the award they were up for. The fact that she was able to hang out with Joe because she stayed home was definitely, absolutely, not the main reason.

—-----------------------------

If there is one thing that will never change about Diana Hayes, it’s that she’s not a morning person. Or a “before 1 PM” person, really. So when her alarm went off at 10 this morning, she wanted to press snooze with everything in her being. That was until she actually looked at her phone and noticed the text notifications on her home screen. She had the normal business updates in her team group chat, but that wasn’t the one that caught Diana’s attention.

Joe (Quarterback) 7:01 AM Is there a specific dress code today?

A smile crossed Diana’s lips, relieved that he wasn’t canceling on her. Tapping a reply out on her phone, she got out of bed and headed towards her bathroom. 

10:02 AM whatever you’re comfortable in. i plan on restarting game of thrones today.

Diana busied herself by turning on her shower and adjusting the water temperature before her phone buzzed on the counter.

Sweats it is. 

Good choice on shows. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m King In The North 😉

Diana responded with an eye roll emoji before telling Joe she would see him at noon and entering the shower. She took her time in the shower, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the uncertainty of what the afternoon held. It had been ages since she had been on a first date, if this even was one, she wasn’t sure what protocol was anymore.

An hour and twenty minutes, one pair of shaved legs, and a fight with a hair dryer later Diana was freaking out. Joe would be here in less than an hour and she was regretting everything. He’s going to make fun of me, Diana thought to herself, he’s going to come over, think I’m weird, and then make fun of me to his friends. Adjusting her position on the couch, Diana brought her hands up to pick at her lips, an anxious habit she’d had since a child. 

Before her fingers could even make contact with her mouth, Biz’s hand swatted it away, an amused look on her face.

“You told me to stop you from picking!” Biz held up her arms in defense, “I just wanted to remind you to tag the bakery the croissants are from on Insta before I leave.”

Biz was driving back to Philadelphia with Eli for the day, giving Diana and Joe the apartment alone for the day. After Biz made her way out of the door, Diana busied herself taking pictures for her social media posts, starting the first episode of Game of Thrones, and snacking on the sweets that had been delivered while she was in the shower. Before she knew it her phone was ringing, Joe’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Hey,” Diana greeted, standing to pace in the living room. 

“Hey,” Joe responded, “I’m about to get in the elevator, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost there.”

“Okay. Once you get to the 14th floor, we’re on the right. See you in a minute.”

Moments later, Diana was opening the front door of her apartment, eyes scanning over Joe’s body. He was dressed in a tie-dyed blue and purple, Space Jam crewneck and a pair of gray sweats. She had never understood before when her friends had talked about men in gray sweats, but seeing Joe had shown her the light.

“Hey,” Diana finally found her voice, gesturing for him to walk in the door.

“Hey, again,” Joe joked, making his way past Diana to stand in the entryway. Closing the door, Diana met Joe’s eyes and felt her face heat up. 

“So, I have uhm, some pastries and fruit in the living room if you want to go in there. I’m like halfway through the first episode of Game of Thrones if you want to go watch.” Diana’s voice came out quicker than normal, nerves filling the space between the butterflies in her stomach.

Joe shook his head with a grin. “Alright. That sounds great to me.”

The pair made their way past the kitchen and into the living room, Diana waving her arm in the direction of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”

“Water sounds great, thanks,” Joe answered, walking to the corner of the couch. When she returned, Joe had sat down and was taking in the surroundings of Diana’s living space. The room was the same cream color that most high-end rentals are nowadays, sectional taking up most of the space. A coffee table in front held Diana’s laptop, a plate with croissants, cinnamon rolls, and strawberries, a glass of water, and two of the flower arrangements that Joe sent her the day before. The sectional was up against a full wall picture window, sage green blinds pulled halfway across and faced a flat screen TV that was paused on an image of Daenerys Targaryen walking into a steaming bath. 

“I know it’s plain, but we’re only staying here temporarily,” Diana said referring to the room they were in, her presence startling Joe.

“Oh. Planning on moving soon?” Joe inquired, pulling himself deeper into the couch. Diana set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to Joe, leaving about a foot of space between them.

“Kind of? I wanted to stay in New York until the tour starts and then Biz and I were going to look at houses,” Diana said in response, “I don’t necessarily want to settle down in a huge city, but I can’t imagine myself going back to Philly.”

“Did you hate it there or something?” Joe seemed genuinely intrigued about Diana’s plans, which was something that surprised her. She had only really known him for 36 hours and she was ready to tell him everything.

“Only since my dad died,” Diana said, instantly followed with, “Oh my god. That was so depressing. Ignore me.” 

“You’re fine. It’s the real reason,” Joe chuckled, “I’ll quit interrogating you.”

The two talked a little more about Joe’s flight back to Cincinnati at 9 and the Grammys that happened the night before, somehow landing on their Game of Thrones opinions. 

“I won’t deny that she’s completely batshit insane, yes. But she’s one of the best characters!” Diana said, excitedly of Cersei. “That’s not what you said, you said she was your favorite character,” Joe countered, “Which, if it is true, is wild.”

Diana laughed as she brought her legs onto the couch and crossed them crisscross-applesauce. The space that had previously existed between her and Joe disappeared, her knee pressing into his thigh. Attempting to ignore the heat that was making its way up her neck, Diana leaned forward and grabbed the remote. “Just watch it from my perspective,” she said before pressing play.

The rest of the first episode and the entire second one played while Diana and Joe snacked and gave commentary on what was happening in the show. Between episodes, Diana had readjusted, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over herself. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime around the opening credits of the third episode after she had ordered pizza, she found herself pressed into Joe’s side with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Within fifteen minutes of that, Diana found herself straddling Joe, hands on either side of his face, lips moving in sync with his. Joe’s right hand found its way to her hair as her lips traveled to the hair on his jawline.

“I like this scruff,” Diana panted between kisses, starting at his chin and making her way back up to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Joe’s left hand traveled to her waist, reaching under her t-shirt and making contact with her bare skin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” just loud enough for Diana to hear. Diana ground her hips into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and his hand traveled to her breast, massaging it eagerly.

They continued kissing a moment longer until Joe grabbed hold of Diana and laid her down on the couch. His lips found her neck and he asked, “Is this okay?” as he shifted his weight to not crush the woman below him, his left hand returned to its place under her shirt. “Take this off,” Joe said, gesturing to the material. Diana complied. “Couldn’t be better,” Diana sighed as Joe nipped lightly at her collarbone, tongue following shortly after his teeth.

“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement,” his voice laced with lust and arrogance. Just as Diana was about to ask what he meant, Joe’s hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her sweatpants.

With a nod of Diana’s head, Joe’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of both her sweatpants long fingers gently brushing her clit through her panties. A soft moan left Diana’s lips as she leaned forward to connect her lips to Joe’s again. His fingers teased her, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the material separating him from her core. Lifting her hips hoping Joe would get the hint, she pressed her core firmly against his fingers.

“More,” she breathed. Joe pulled the fabric aside and his fingers were instantly met with the slick wetness of Diana’s arousal. Sliding his middle finger along her slit, he brought it up to her clit and began to rub. Pleasure clouded Diana’s thoughts, Joe’s voice asking her if he could take her pants off barely making it through haze. She lifted her hips and pulled the material down her legs as Joe sat up, tugging his shirt over his head.

Joe stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. Laying in only her black lace panties, Diana was too busy enjoying her own view to shy away from the hunger Joe was staring at her with. Joe was clearly a man who took care of his body and it showed. She was in awe.

Before Diana could process the definition of his muscles, Joe had resumed his position next to her, covering her lips with another kiss. Then, without hesitation, he took her left nipple in her mouth. Diana moaned again, arousal red hot between her legs. It wasn’t long until Joe’s mouth began moving downward again, leaving kisses until he got to Diana’s hip bones.

“Can I?” Joe asked, staring up hungrily at Diana. Hesitant, Diana thought it over for a second. She had only received oral three times in her past relationship as her ex had found numerous reasons to avoid the act, most of them criticisms of Diana. Everything from she was unattractive to she was too picky when it came to the way he did it. Trying to shake thoughts of her ex from her head, Diana reassured herself that every signal Joe had given her had proved he wanted to do this. Finally, she nodded her head.

Wasting no time after getting her consent, Joe placed his lips around Diana’s clit and began sucking. Instinctively, her hips bucked into him, eager for more pleasure. Diana felt Joe smile into her skin, then a finger slid into her while he continued to suck and lick at her.  After some movement, Joe added another finger, pausing a moment to help her get used to the width.

Diana tried to clear her mind, looking down at the man between her legs. His fingers were moving inside of her, curling to hit a spot inside of her that she seemed rather receptive to the first time he hit it. A warm tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to clear any insecurities from her mind. “Fuck..” Joe’s mouth drew another slow moan out of Diana’s mouth. She leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows. “As amazing as this feels- fuck. I don’t think that I’ll be able to- holy shit!- finish this way.” Joe pulled his face away from her core, licking his lips and shaking his head. “I think you underestimate my determination,” he stated. Not breaking eye contact, he dipped his head back down and placed another kiss on her clit and added another finger to the ones busy between her folds.

Joe’s hands and mouth continued in unison to work their magic until moments later when tension in her core began to build towards a peak and her body convulsed. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down lightly as Joe’s teeth lightly grazed her clit. He used his free hand to rest against her hip bones, trying to hold her in place so he could help bring her to climax. Releasing her clit from his mouth, began to move his fingers with more purpose, trying to match the pace that Diana was trying to set. 

“Fuck. Fuck! Joe, I think I’m going to-” Diana was cut off by her orgasm. Joe continued to pump his fingers into her as he peppered kisses on her forehead. Warmth radiated through her body, starting at her core and rippling from her head to her toes. “That’s right, baby. Just let it happen,” he encouraged as Diana let herself give in to the sensation. 

Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Diana was staring into Joe’s blue eyes. “Thank you. I promise you did not need to do that” Diana whispered, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. “I didn’t have to, I wanted to,” his response helped ease her worries. “Besides, I didn’t want to not live up to what was advertised,” he joked, referencing the interview Ja’Marr had given. Just then, the doorbell rang indicating that the pizza they delivered had arrived. 

An hour later, Joe and Diana had devoured an entire pizza and had spent the entire time deep in conversation. Trying to avoid bringing up what just happened, Diana kept the topics focused on friends and growing up. She learned about Joe’s parents and his brothers and heard what it was like to grow up in a relatively small town in Ohio, while she told Joe about how she grew up in Philadelphia, her mom leaving before she turned 10, and her dad passing away a few years ago. It felt almost relieving to have someone ask questions about the things she actually cared about.

It wasn’t long before Joe’s phone started ringing from its spot on the coffee table. Joe stood up and walked out of the room to take the call. It was a quarter till six, meaning that Joe’s flight left in less than 5 hours. Diana’s head began swimming with contradicting thoughts, sad that he had to leave soon and fear of what that meant.

When Joe ended the call, he walked back into the room, looking at his phone. “Apparently, I should leave in no more than ten minutes to make it back in time to pack for our flight. I guess I should leave” Joe looked just as conflicted as Diana felt. “Will I get to see you again?”

Diana felt her heart start beating harder than it ever had. This man was a fucking dream. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that,” Diana nodded, walking Joe to the door. 

“Cool. I had a really good time today,” a smile covered Joe’s face when Diana turned a deep red. “I’m willing to repeat it anytime,” he said with a wink.

Diana shoved Joe slightly, arriving at the front door. Joe engulfed her in a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“But seriously, I would like to hang out again. I’ll text you, okay?” He was looking down at her now, smirk still on his face

With a nod, Diana pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Making sure she locked the door behind him, she raced to her phone to send her sister a text.

Sending the message, Diana couldn’t help to smile to herself. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from this relationship with Joe, but she knew for sure she wanted more of it.

===================================

Sorry for the delay, I just couldn't get this chapter right! Hope you all enjoy! If you've read this far, please let me know what you think, even on anon!

===================================

Taglist: If you'd like to be added, let me know!

@therapycat21 @rd14 @wickedfun9

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💍 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Ring of the Ring
Ring, rare (requires attunement) ___ This ring has a bell at its top, like a signet. While wearing it, you gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with unarmed strikes, and on a hit, the ring emits a faraway “ding” sound. 𝙎𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙐𝙥. While wearing the ring, you can use an action to touch your two fists together, emitting a louder “ding, ding” when you do. When this happens choose a 20-foot square on the ground that you can see; you must be within the square. A series of magical walls that are 5 feet tall and 1 inch thick spring up from the ground around the square. A creature in the way of a wall must make a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw; a Gargantuan creature automatically succeeds on this saving throw. On a failed save, the creature is moved entirely within the square and knocked prone. On a successful save, the creature is moved just outside of the square. You can use a bonus action to make a single unarmed strike after using this property. A creature can use half of its movement to climb into or out of the square. If the creature is Large or smaller, it must also make a DC 15 Dexterity (Acrobatics) check when it attempts to do so. On a failure, the creature falls prone just inside the square. While within the square, your unarmed strike attack rolls score a critical hit on a roll of 19 or 20. The square remains for 1 minute, until you fall unconscious or die, or until you end the effect using a bonus action. For the duration, creatures within the square have disadvantage on attack rolls made against targets outside the square, and creatures outside the square have disadvantage on attack rolls against creatures within it. Once this property of the ring has been used, it can’t be used again until the next dawn. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[mousical]

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

wheel to wheel

pairing; f1 x female-driver! reader

warnings; car crash, mentions of alcohol, cursing

summary; alpha tauri’s first female driver has a day.

word count; 3.7k 

a/n; part one of a multi chapter fic! will be an eventual driver x reader, just not sure which driver yet lololol. also i wrote the first half of this before the race, which is why a lot of the results don’t line up whoops

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

TURN 1 INCIDENT INVOLVING CARS 6 (LAT), 4 (NOR), 12 (Y/L/N) NOTED — CAUSING A COLLISION

"Are you okay, are you okay?"

The muffled voice of your engineer repeated over the radio.

"I'm fine." You mumbled back. Not waiting to hear a confirmation, you began maneuvering out of your seat, careful to avoid any scraps of metal torn off the body of the car.

A sigh escaped your chapped lips as you gave the car a once over. It certainly wasn't a pretty sight; the back half had taken the worst blow, rear wing nowhere in sight. It could've been a lot worse, though.

Thankfully, when your rear wheel had been touched, sending you off the track, you had managed to somewhat get control of the spin before getting thrown into the wall. If you weren't so pissed about DNFing, you would've been impressed with your reaction.

You lifted your gaze away from the car, just in time to see a limping Latifi rolling back onto the track before skidding away. Figures.

Now that you were out, you could check on the other victim of Latifi's most recent murder attempt. You winced at the soreness of your legs as you jogged to the McLaren.

You didn't quite catch the incident, but you assumed that it was probably the McLaren who had spun onto your wheel, only after being clipped himself by the Williams.

The other driver seemed to have had it a bit worse than you. His left sidepod was lodged into the barrier, the nose, at least what was left of it, angled into the wall. The back remained mostly untouched, save for a nasty hit on the rear wing. You clicked your tongue. Must've been a nasty impact.

You caught a glimpse of the driver’s helmet on your way to the car. Poor Lando.

The marshals had reached him first, standing around the car while he hopped out. Then began the work to get those cars off the track.

Meanwhile, you and Lando only had so much time to breathe before having to head back. Thankfully, the crash had occurred at the end of the main straight, which meant that the walk of shame back to the garages wouldn't be too long.

Once you had gotten off the track, you were able to slip the helmet off. Thank goodness, because between your headache from the crash and the Austin heat, you were just about ready to pass out under that suffocating helmet. You tried to keep your head down, not really in the mood for the crowd's pitying stares.

“Latifi." Lando groaned, catching up to you.

"Latifi." You repeated through a breath. The two of you walked along side of each other, helmets in hand.

"Did he clip your rear?" You asked, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

"Tried moving to my outside to pass." Lando nodded, confirming your suspicions.

"Maybe he sneezed mid-overtake. You never know." You joked dryly. Lando scoffed.

"I think you're giving him too much credit." Lando rolled his eyes. Teasing the driver was an easy distraction from the fact that the two of you had lost out on possible points.

You made simple small talk during the walk back, giving each other your own perspectives of the race before ending up in the wall. And, of course, came the inevitable Latifi slights.

"I'll never understand how someone ends up 21st in a 20 driver championship." You laughed. Lando shrugged.

"I'll never understand how he gained 20th back." The two of you had finally reached the pit lane, a couple of team members from your respective garages coming up to meet you.

"How many laps left?" You asked one of the crew members. He told you 31, to which you groaned. Turning back to Lando, you waved a quick goodbye.

"Smashing race, Lando!" You mused. He shook his head with a smile before walking off to the McLaren garage.

The Alpha Tauri garage was fairly uneventful. Franz gave you a quick pat on the back on your way in. "Come over to the wall when you can." He yelled over the bustling pit lane.

You gave the principal a quick thumbs up before heading inside, the pit crew already waiting inside to give their condolences.

To be completely honest, you weren't feeling too upset about the unfortunate end to your race. Maybe it was because you knew it wasn't your fault, maybe it was the heat getting to you- either way, you felt content to slump down in a fold out chair in the back of the garage.

You knew that you eventually had to head back out to join Franz and the engineers on the pit wall, but you didn't see the harm in giving yourself a couple seconds to unwind after such a troubling crash.

Now that the adrenaline had all but dissipated from your system, the soreness in your legs was feeling a bit worse, and a new pain had formed in-between your shoulder blades.

"Y/N! Everything alright? That looked nasty." Your PR manager appeared, causing you to jump in surprise. "Oh, sorry." She laughed, bringing a hand up to her chest.

"All good, Nat." You responded with a smile, leaning back into your chair. "Sky come racing down yet?"

"Not yet. Think they're stopping at McLaren first. They'll be around soon though. If you get to the pit wall quick enough they might not bother you." She handed you your cell phone.

"Guess I better get out there then." You yawned, slowly stretching out of the seat. You winced at the soreness, eliciting a frown from Natalie.

"Want me to get the medic over here?" She asked, walking you across the garage. You shook your head.

"Just need a massage. I'll be fine." You assured her. She pursed her lips, not sure if you could be trusted. Ultimately, she gave in.

"Alright, whatever you say. Sorry about the race." She waved you off before turning on her heels to go back inside.

After waiting for a Mercedes to pass, you jogged across the pit lane, hopping up onto a pit wall stool with a grunt.

You slipped on a headset, quickly checking the screens in front of you to get a sense of how the race was running.

The Mercedes that had just crossed your path was Hamilton's. He had come back onto the track in 5th, just ahead of Perez.

Max was running in first, little surprise there, with Sainz in second and Leclerc in a comfortable third. A ways behind the Ferrari, Russel had gained some generous distance between him and P5, a gift from Lewis's first pit stop of the race.

The rest of the grid was nothing out of the ordinary, save for Yuki, who was fighting hard to maintain a surprising P9. You would make sure to congratulate your teammate after the race was over, whether or not he ended up keeping the position.

"Any update on a penalty for Latifi?" You spoke into the headset at 20 laps to go.

"It is being investigated. Should find out in a couple laps." Your engineer's thick French accent spoke.

With only so many laps left, and Latifi running on a set of fresh hards, you assumed it would be a post race penalty. A penalty, mind you, that would serve no purpose, as Latifi had been crawling through the track in last place since the collision.

Speaking of said collision, you decided to take your newfound free time to begin thinking about answers to predictable questions that were sure to come up in the media pen.

Can you explain to us what went down on track? Did you feel as though you had the potential to score crucial points before the collision? Could Lando Norris have avoided an impact with you?

'I'm sure Crofty explained it better than I could.'

'Maybe, sure.'

'Maybe, I don't know.'

All answers you wished you could give the media, but you knew better. Whatever you were going to feed them was going to have to be filled with a lot more bullshit than those perfectly fine answers.

The last laps of the race dragged on excruciatingly slow, until finally ending in a laughably predictable way. Max won, Ferrari bottled a potential win, and George Russell complained the entire time. Typical Sunday race day.

Natalie hunted you down right after the cars had been pulled in, quickly giving you a synopsis of what not to do in the pen. That's something you loved about having her as a PR manager; she never scripted your responses. More often than not, she just told you not to be an arse and sent you on your way. This time was no different.

The media pen was as bustling as ever when you strolled in, journalists pushing over each other to jot down quotes from the drivers. You slid into an empty space next to Lando, who was in the middle of an interview with F1 TV.

"It's disappointing, of course, not to score any points on such a promising weekend, but hopefully we'll back stronger for Mexico." He explained.

The interviewer thanked him before he was shuffled away by his own PR manager, and you were thrown into his spot.

"Yeah, I mean," You started after a basic enough question. "It really is unfortunate to have had our race ended like that, especially after such a successful first stint." You sighed, crossing your hands over your chest. "The team has been working so hard all weekend, and it is a shame to have no result to show for their efforts." The interviewer nodded at your response.

"Did you think that anything could have been done to prevent such an incident?"

You pursed your lips, trying to judge how much trouble you'd get in if you told the truth. Quickly glancing at Natalie, you found your PR manager staring daggers into you, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It's racing." You smiled at the interviewer with a shrug, catching Natalie nod out of the corner of your eye. "These incidents happen. The car has been brilliant all weekend, I felt like I’ve had a lot of good pace; real results were definitely reasonable and very much in reach. There’s a lot of crucial information we’ve learned from Austin that we can hopefully apply down to Mexico. I don’t know, I guess I’m trying my best to take away what few positives we got from this weekend— stay optimistic, you know? I mean that’s really all I can do.”

“Well, the fans were certainly sad to see your drive ended so soon.” She spoke, still committed to keeping the conversation on the incident.

"Yeah, you know, I really am so lucky to have such incredible fans. Austin has been so welcoming— it's really been great." That response wasn't a lie. This was only your second time racing COTA as an F1 driver, and the city had welcomed you in with open arms.

"Glad to hear it." She paused, biting her tongue for just a moment before speaking up again. "I do have to ask, on behalf of the loyal fans of the US, will we be seeing you racing again here at COTA next year?"

Oh boy. You wish you knew.

Your eyes flew to Natalie, who looked just as thrown as you.

"I'll let you know when I find out."

After a quick thanks and good bye, you were hurried to the next interviewer, and then the next, and the next. Eventually, it was over, Natalie saving you from having to answer the same questions thirty times over. On your way out, you quickly stopped by Yuki, who was talking to Sky Sports.

"Congrats on the points!" You exclaimed with a smile, patting the other driver on the back. Startled, he spun around, sighing when he realized it was just you.

The interviewer laughed, Yuki gave you a quick thumbs up, and then you were off to the paddock.

The paddock lane was busy with activity; teams running equipment to and from the garage, post-race paddock tours mingling through the buildings, the occasional driver making their way back to their own team's temporary HQ's.

You took your time getting back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality, enjoying the way the light Austin breeze ruffled through your hair. The sun was going down, which meant that, thankfully, the heat was less punishing. You unzipped the top of your overalls, tying the sleeves around your waist.

The drivers' rooms were hardly luxurious, just a small office space with a couch, a chair, and a coffee table. An air conditioning unit sat against the wall, keeping the room cool for your arrival. The chill air was a welcome shift to the dry heat you had been melting in all afternoon.

A change of clothes was waiting for you on the couch, and you couldn't have been more excited to get out of the sweaty fireproofs. Just as you began slipping on a fresh Alpha Tauri polo, you heard a soft knock at the door.

"Y/N? You decent?" Natalie's voice rang out.

"One sec." You called out, hurriedly putting on the rest of your clothes before opening up the door.

"Not sure if you feel like celebrating-" Before she could go on, you groaned, turning around to slump down onto the couch. "Max won, so Red Bull is putting together a thing."

"A thing?" You whined.

"Yuki is going. Obviously, Max and Sergio will be there." She alluded, arms folded over her chest.

"I don't have a choice." You finished her thought.

"See you there, then. I'll send you the address." And with that, she was gone.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

The club floor was a cacophonous maze of drunk dancers and party-goers, all shamelessly slamming their bodies together in a syncopated rhythm. The music was deafening, shaking the floor itself with its pounding bass.

You maneuvered your way through the hoard, scanning each guest with a profound curiosity. Professionals in the racing world, masters of their own crafts, all stumbling through the crowd in tipsy hazes.

The place was bursting at the seems with excitement and energy, all in celebration of the team’s latest victory.

You were entirely lost. For the first half an hour or so, you simply wandered through the club, hoping to find a familiar enough face to strike up a conversation with.

Max found you before you could find him.

“Y/N!” His accent slurred. “Tough luck today!” You turned to greet him with a small smile.

“Is what it is. Congratulations on the win! Didn’t think you had it in you.” You quipped, eliciting a laugh from the Dutchman.

“Of course, of course.” Max paused, taking a sip of his drink. “Hey, did Christian find you yet?”

“Christian?” You repeated, raising a brow. “Not yet, why?” Before he could respond, a new person cut in, bombarding the race winner with congratulatory words. You swallowed a laugh, amused at the ambush. “Just find him!” Max shouted, before being whisked away.

Being honest, you didn’t really want to speak to Christian; it seemed like every time you did, you ended up getting yelled at. If it could be helped, you would do your best to avoid your boss for as long as it could be helped.

The night continued on in a similar fashion, team members from both Alpha Tauri and Red Bull giving their condolences, only before asking if you’d seen the man of the hour.

Despite knowing almost everyone in the club, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that you were alone, left to stumble your way through the night all by yourself. This, coupled with your unfortunate sobriety, as you were responsible for driving yourself back to the hotel, was shaping your evening up to be more of a bore than a celebration.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited for the team— quite the opposite in fact. You’ve always sort of seen Red Bull and Alpha Tauri as two sides of the same coin. You felt their wins as if they were your own, same with the losses. Even if Max winning was becoming a natural occurrence, each time felt just as special as the last.

Maybe the sting of your DNF was still poisoning your spirit. That must’ve been it, you decided.

The far away sight of a familiar set of curls coaxed you out of your concentration. Without another thought, you squeezed your way over.

“Lando!” You exclaimed, happy to see someone you knew enough to busy yourself with. He, just like you, looked incredibly lost. “What are you doing here? Thought this was a Red Bull party.”

“Not super sure, honestly.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, always glad to see you.” You grinned. “No party at McLaren tonight?” It was a bit of tease; a DNF and 17th weren’t anything to go clubbing about. He gave you a glare.

“Nothing to celebrate, really. Unlike you lot!” He gestured to the hoards of people around you two.

“Yeah, constructors. Pretty wild.” That fact had only just begun to sink in; the implications of Red Bull’s constructors win was a miraculous feat.

“You alright?” He quirked a brow at you, to which you swatted away.

“Perfectly fine! Maybe not as drunk as I’d like to be.” You scrunched your face, the craving for alcohol itching through your body.

“You drive here?” You nodded in response. “Well, I can always give you a ride if you need it.” He offered.

“Really?” You knew the two of you were friendly, but you didn’t think you were that close. He nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do tonight.” He shrugged. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth. The offer was very tempting.

“Alright, Norris. I’ll take you up on that.” You decided with a smile. Not wishing to waste any time, you began making your way to the bar, Lando following close behind.

You were painfully close to the counter before bumping into none other than Christian Horner. Just your luck.

“Y/N?” He shouted over the music. It took every ounce of will power you could muster not to run away right there and then. You felt Lando’s hand touch your arm, momentarily turning your attention away from your boss.

“I’ll meet you at the bar.” He nodded towards the one object of your desire, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to talk to you!” Christian regained your focus, his drunken speech accentuating his accent.

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” You half joked, not even sure if he would remember this conversation tomorrow.

“I know your contract is up,” He continued right on. “And you’ve been very patient with negotiations.” You rolled your eyes, already annoyed with where this conversation was going.

You were tired of being patient, being a team player. You wanted a contract, the one you were promised months ago. You weren’t looking forward to being told to wait for the fifth time in two weeks.

“Well, there might just be an open seat with us next year.”

Your heart dropped out of your chest right then and there. Did you hear him right?

“At- At Red Bull?” You stumbled over your words, heart rate rising exponentially. Christian brought a finger up to his lips, indicating this breaking news was still top secret.

“Just hold tight, alright?” He slurred. You nodded fiercely, suddenly very okay with playing the patient game.

A seat. At Red Bull. You didn’t see that coming.

The walk to Lando was a blur. It was a miracle you managed to keep yourself straight up before tripping into a seat at the bar.

“You get fired yet?” He mused, taking a sip from his glass. Your mouth was dry, the words stuck in your throat. His brow furrowed. “You okay?” He put down his drink.

“Red Bull.” You spit out, unable to form any full sentences.

“Red Bull.” Lando repeated slowly, confused to say the least.

“Open seat. 23’.” That was all it took for the Mclaren driver to put everything together. He slapped a hand over his mouth, letting out an excited laugh.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed. “Actually?”

“I think!” You replied, finally breaking out in a smile. An overwhelming wave of excitement, relief, and terror flooded your systems all at once.

“You think? Is that what he said?” He pressed further.

“I think?” Was all you could come up with, still not entirely sure what was going on yourself. At that moment, the specifics didn’t really matter, at least not to you.

“Wow.” You heard Lando whisper from beside you.

“I know.” You gaped, putting your head in your hands.

“Well go on, celebrate!” Lando cheered, waving the bartender over to where the two of you sat.

“No, no.” You shook your head, shooing him away. “I wanna remember this sober.” You decided out loud.

“Up to you.” There was something odd about the boy’s expression, something you didn’t really feel like deciphering at the time. “Any theories?” He broke the lull. You quirked your head.

“As to?” That made him laugh.

“I thought the Red Bull seats were pretty much set.” You hadn’t even given that a thought, but he was right. Where was this seat coming from?

“Surely not Max?” You thought aloud, and Lando shrugged.

“Guess not. That leaves Checo.”

As far as you knew, Checo wasn’t going anywhere. At the very least, Red Bull had no plans on letting him go. Did that mean he was leaving on his own accord? Retirement, maybe? No, not at the height of his career. What then?

“I’m stumped.” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand.

“Guess you’ll find out soon, huh?” He tried, not eliciting much of a reaction from you. “Hey, Y/N.” He grabbed your attention. You looked up at him through distant eyes. “This is good news!” He was right again- you knew that. So why did it still feel so strange?

You let out a long exhale.

“I sure hope so.”

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.