#and i love the stars. i just don't know much about them

[lilasamaaa]

Wicked games | Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre | Fluff, some light angst.

Word count | 1.5K.

Warnings | Some sexual innuendos, reader playfully gaslighting Max.

Summary | You love Max, you really do. But there’s just something about your brother’s teammate… as a driver, of course. 

Author's note | This piece was requested! Thanks to the lovely anon who came up with the idea, I had so much fun writing it! This is shorter than what I usually write, but I wanted to keep this one light and fun :)

"Babe? Max's voice comes from the living room. "Are you ready to go?"

This weekend, it's the iconic Monaco Grand Prix, and you're delighted not to have to take a flight and endure jet lag from the other side of the world for once. Not that you're complaining about having the privilege to travel so much, but you understand what flight attendants mean when they say that flying makes you age prematurely. Before the bustling week begins and paralyzes the entire city, you, your brother, and Max had agreed to go eat lunch at your favorite place before the boys had to attend their pre-race press conference.

"I'm almost done," you shout back, placing bobby pins in your bun, when you hear the footsteps of your boyfriend approaching until they reach the door.

"We're..." Max starts before his gaze lands on you. "Oh, no, baby. There's no way you're wearing that."

You arch an eyebrow, observing your boyfriend in the large mirror of the bathroom.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" you ask, tilting your head.

"You're not really going to wear that, are you? Not while holding my hand?" Max replies, starring at your white tennis skirt and red Ferrari polo while you let out a hearty laugh.

"I might be your girlfriend, Max Verstappen, but I'm a Ferrari fan first and foremost. You knew this when you first asked me out."

"Of course I know, baby, but there's a difference between supporting Ferrari and... walking around with their colors on the street. With me."

"Are you playing territorial right now?" you ask, putting both hands on his chest, struggling to suppress your laughter.

"If you're so set on wearing red, why don't you try something more... Discreet? Like the red dress I brought you from Miami?"

"I'm wearing the polo, Max. It'll make Charles happy. And Carlos too," you add, winking at your boyfriend before walking towards the living room.

"Huh? What's the connection with Carlos?" Max asks, following you. "Is Carlos invited to the restaurant?"

Ever since Max and you started dating, several years ago, this has been your favorite game. Never gets old. You just love mentioning the Scuderia and its drivers. It's not that he hates the team, no, after all, as Sebastian once said, everyone's a Ferrari fan. But while Max understands your attachment to the team in relation with your brothers, there's one thing he finds less understandable... Your fascination with the other driver.

"You didn't tell me Carlos was coming," Max says again, still following around while you put on your jewelry.

"I didn't think it was important," you shrug, smirking.

Let it be clear : you don't feel anything for Carlos. No attraction whatsoever. But ever since the Spaniard joined the team and became a close friend of Charles, your relationship naturally developed to the point where today, you genuinely consider Carlos as a member of your family. You've even met his own, spent holidays with them, and you've crashed at Carlos' place multiple times before. Sometimes, when you need someone to talk to and Charles and Max are too biased, too closely involved with you to provide good insight, you call Carlos. The same way the driver always comes to you when he's got girls troubles. Yes, the two of you share a beautiful, tight bond. And knowing there's no ambiguity between the two of you (Max knows it too, deep down), you love driving your boyfriend crazy by mentioning Carlos.

"What's the matter, Max?" you ask, turning around, smiling at him.

"Look, I don't say anything when you sleep on his couch, or when you spend hours on the phone with his sisters. It doesn't even bother me when you check his results, and I surely didn't say anything when you celebrated his victory in Australia while my car was giving me hell," Max continues, gesturing with his hands. "But isn't this a bit much?"

"What is?"

"You said we were going out... As a family? Like, your brother, you and me?"

"Carlos is family," you reply, playing dumb.

"You..." Max starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, yeah. Whatever." your boyfriend says, throwing his hands in the air.

As Max and you arrive hand in hand in front of the restaurant where Charles and Carlos are waiting, you don't miss the look your brother gives you upon seeing you dressed in the red polo.

"You're fucking impossible," Charles mutters while kissing your cheek.

Once inside, as the four of you walk over to your table, you still see the opportunity to drive Max crazy by sitting across from Charles. Next to Carlos. Diagonally, your boyfriend watches you, eyebrows furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Miami was so fun," you start, taking the menu.

"You and I must have a different definition of the word" Max says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's not so unpleasant to see someone else cross the finish line before you, for once," you reply teasingly.

"Like in Melbourne?" Max asks with an ironic smile.

"Like in Melbourne," you nod, winking at your boyfriend before turning your attention to the Spaniard. "You did so good, Carlos. I'll have you know that I was rooting for you from the start."

"Yeah," Charles interjects, rolling his eyes. "We know."

The table is engulfed in a heavy silence, and you enjoy yourself so much, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

"There's some tension in here, am I right?" Carlos asks after some time, looking at all three of you in turn.

"She's been bugging me about you all morning," Max replies, taking a sip of his coke. "She thinks it's funny."

"Why would you do that?" Carlos asks, looking at you, eyes wide. "You know he's going to push me off-track because of you, next time."

"You're better than them, that's all," you reply, eyes fixated on the menu in front of you. "They just can't admit it."

"Now, that's just nasty coming from my own sister," Charles says, laughing. "Take that back."

"Leave her to it," Max says to your brother, giving you a meaningful look. "She's decided to be bratty today. She knows it drives me crazy."

"We should all know less about each other," Carlos says before gesturing for the waiter to come over, while Charles tries to hide the red from his face with his menu.

The meal goes well, the false tensions easing over a succession of delicious dishes. But you're not done with your little game. Not yet. As the server clears your plates and refills your wine, you lean in towards Carlos.

"What dessert do you recommend? I'm in the mood for something sweet," you ask Carlos, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

Across from you, your brother sighs, running a hand across his face, while Max stares at you in a way you know all too well. A look that tells you that once the two of you set foot back in your shared apartment, you're going to pay for your behavior. Big time. But for now, you don't care, leaning over Carlos' menu, your shoulders pressed together. The Spaniard is so innocent, so far from imagining that you're using him to lead your boyfriend exactly where you want him.

"Their crème brûlée is delicious," the driver replies mechanically, eyes still looming over the piece of paper.

"Crème brûlée it is, then," you reply, setting back in your chair. "I just love to make them crack," you finish, locking eyes with Max.

That's it. You're fucked. Max's usually clear eyes are dark with annoyance and desire. Feeling the heat in your lower belly, you lower your gaze, finding it hard to meet your boyfriend's eyes. You can't wait to get home, knowing that with the afternoon of interviews ahead of him, your boyfriend will have to suppress his desire until tonight, amplifying his frustration. After dessert, the four of you head to the cashier, where Max pays for everyone before leading you all outside.

Carlos gives you a quick hug before heading back to his car, promising to call you soon, knowing that the other two drivers will follow him in a few moments. Charles approaches you, and you throw yourself in his arms, pressing your nose against his neck.

"You've got to stop doing that," your brother mumbles playfully in your ear. "You're not the one who has to deal with his awful mood in the paddock afterward."

"He's just so easy to rile up," you say, as both of you let out a laugh.

Charles pinches your cheek before waving to Max and joining Carlos in his car. You find yourself facing Max and give him a radiant smile. Perfectly innocent.

"You're the worst," your boyfriend starts, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You just love me," you say, sticking out your tongue.

"I'm going to ruin you tonight," he concludes, pulling you towards him before kissing you passionately, his hands grazing your buttocks, barely covered by your short skirt. "Show you who's better than who."

"I can't wait," you mutter against his mouth, softly biting his lower lip before taking the keys from his car in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Can't wait," you repeat, watching your boyfriend walk away until he disappears into the backseat of Carlos' car.

[11cupid-tarot11]

A letter from your future self.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

1 -> 3

DM me for private readings

$5.55 per question!

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Tips appreciated

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Love y'all!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Pile 1- The star, Two of wands, The devil.

"I think it's time you and I have a talk, I know you know who I'm talking to, yeah I'm talking to myself, but it's not just you and me here, what about little us? Past us? The most important form of ourselves? You haven't been listening to all of us, why? Why do you ignore the child in you who screams to be listened to, to be understood, who just wants to heal like the rest of you. I promise you it's not silly at all to be in tuned with your inner child, I promise you no one's going to hurt you or make you want to hide away again, they can't control your emotions. They only want you to feel so powerless against them, like you're helplessly chained to them, but you have the power to break the chain and run free again, wild. You deserve to follow your dreams, do whatever you want, whatever it is that's been bugging you like a fly in your ear, a project that's always on the back of your mind, the one that just wouldn't go away since you were a child, you can do it, I know you can because I'm already here as proof, but I can't spoil too much. Be creative, shine brightly and never let anyone dim that light. I love you with all my might! ;)

- Me"

Don't forget the poll below!

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Pile 2- The devil in reverse, Three of wands, Justice.

"Hi buttercup! I hope all is well these days, I've been thinking about you so much these days, well let me explain, I've been thinking about how hard we've worked, how far we've come and what we had to do to be here. I know, it's a lot. I'll often look back a lot and think about how unfair things were, how many people were never on your side, how many battles you've had to win on your own and how many you've had to lose. I'll never forget the day we decided we had had enough of our problems, our addictions, the toxicity and just did something about it, we cut that toxic person off, quit that stupid job or finally changed that damn schedule of yours and did something better for your health. Whatever it was we did it <3 and it paid off so much, I'm so happy we did because it led us to better days, so much abundance, everything we've always deserved. We got the justice we've always been searching for in such a cruel world and I'm so proud of us for doing that baby girl! We never gave up, no matter how much we wanted to, how much we wanted to go back to that same place because it was comfortable and we just got so blind sided we never knew we could do so much more if we just put our mind to it! Go us! Go me! Go you!

Love- The version of yourself you were always meant to be 🩷"

Don't forget the poll below! Love you!

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖.

Pile 3- Six of coins, Ace of wands in reverse, Two of coins in reverse.

"Psst! Remember that project you weren't so sure about? You know the one, well I have a message for you! If you get started with it now I bet you a million bucks you could never guess where you'll be ten years from now. You remember that big house you've always wanted? All of the wealth you've always wanted to share and give back to others? We finally can! We did it! It was always important to give back to the ones we love, to be able to support and live comfortably and we finally did it. Just try not to get too big headed, okay? Remember who you are, where you come from and why you started this in the first place. Don't forget about your loved ones, the ones who supported you through thick and thin. I know your schedule might be busier, just don't forget to find that balance. We're at a very important time in our lives right now, I understand this, but remember to take a break from that damn schedule of yours. Take time for us, okay? I want you to call off as soon as you see a single sign of distress and go to the spa, I promise you're going to need it! ;) "

-Big boss lady (this pile was channeling feminine energy, someone who's in charge of their own business and gives orders to others. Very important business woman vibes here.)

Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom! Love you!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[brucewaynehater101]

I do have a few more examples! Tim offers Mister Freeze unlimited funding to help his wife on the condition that he sometimes helps with other projects. He hires Harvey Dent to be his personal lawyer (not that he needs one). Blood Sport, Death Stroke, Dead Shot, and many other mercenaries are hired to "break into" Drake Industries to hunt down and "kill" Tim or "steal" important information in order to test his companies defenses and tell him exactly how they got in so that he can patch any holes. He hires one to break in every 2 to 3 months but never the same person in a year. Like if he uses Deathstroke in August he can't use him again until January.

Tim also doesn't want to force these rouges to move far away from their homes so he opens up branches in Metropolis, Central City, Star City, and others too. Anywhere he opens an office for Drake Industries, crime rate always plummets thanks to him hiring all the Henchmen and giving them stable jobs that pay at minimum double the minimum wage of the area plus really good health insurance and other benefits. They even have dental and 4 months paid maternity *and* paternity leave! The desk work may not be as exciting as their previous jobs but boy is it safer.

Also I would like to make one note. DI is one of the few major cooperations in America that openly does *not* donate to the Jusitce Leauge. Tim is still salty about Bruce Quest and during an interview where someone asked how much he donates to them, Tim said, "oh I don't. At all. It's not that I don't believe in them, I do, uts just. There's already so many places funding them they don't need me. But you know who does? The younger generation of heroes. Did you know that The Teen Titans only get funding through the Justice Leauge? I don't think that's very fair so I donate to them. I donate to Young Justice. I track down and do research on dozens of younger heroes who aren't part of any organization and check to make sure they're doing good in their community and then I directly donate to them. Superheroing is expensive, just look how much the JL spends on it! Could you imagine? Being fresh out of high-school, working a minimum wage job, and having to make your own suit and gadgets while also paying for *college*? The stories I have heard from some of them! This one poor kid, he told me that he had to use this roll of regular fabric he found in a dumpster because buying a roll was to expensive! Of course I sent him to a super hero tailor on my own dime, after all he just wanted to help his community saving kittens from trees and stopping local mugging. But still, small heroes like him are important. After all, didn't Superman start by saving cats from trees? Didn't Green Arrow start by stopping a mugging? Didn't Batman himself start by stopping a purse snatching? You never know who the next big hero will be in 5 or ten years."

I might have gotten a bit to into that rant. Listen. Listen this is a subject close to my heart. Small Time Heroes Are Important!

My gods, I love this so so much. You combined two tropes I love: Tim using Business to fund social programs/decrease crime/hire ex felons and criminals, and Tim turning his back on the JL after the BruceQuest.

Added with Tim funding small time heroes???? This is phenomenal

[greenlotusleaf]

I want someone to grab my soft curves, maybe just a little rough, praising and appreciating my post-pregnancy physique.

"I did this to you," they'd say, stars in their eyes. "I made you a milf, and I love it."

They're right, and I could never deny it. "It's true," I'd admit, breathy, hitch in my voice as they squeeze and shake my fat belly, my plump thighs. "You knocked me up, transformed me, into *this*...." and I'd twine my fingers in their hair and pull them in to kiss my belly.

"You got so big for me," they'd gasp out between kisses. And I'd knead my chest and agree: "I couldn't stop growing.... My tits got so swollen, they're still so much bigger than before...." And I'd think about the little chest I used to have, and look down past hands on my bloated udders, to see my lover kissing their way down my soft, empty belly.

"Your belly blew up so huge, and round," they'd marvel, remembering. Then they'd sink their fingers into my yielding flesh, and their voice would take on a little edge: "but it never got all the way back down to the size it was before, huh?"

"No..." I'd be the one gasping now, trying to fit the words around my need and pleasure. They'd tease me with their tongue as I'd confess: "I'm fat now.... I used to be so skinny until you knocked me up and made me soooo fucking fat...." I feel my belly heave and wobble as I practically sob out the words.

"You're fat," they accuse. "You got so big...." I feel my thighs hitch around their shoulders as they tease, and the flesh jiggles, reminding me.

"You did this to me," I whisper.

They pause, withdrawing. "Tell me you love it," they'd murmur into my plump new rolls, finger lazily inside me, not enough to satisfy.

I bite my lip, struggling to hold it together as they pleasure my body. My vast, plush body... "I... I do. I love it. I love how wide you made me, my hips... You made them ache, and spread, and grow.... and now my ass is too fat and my clothes are all so tight and *I love it*....

"I love the way you look at me." The words are tumbling out faster now. "You must be so proud of what you've done to me, you can't keep your eyes off me, or your hands...." My hand moves to caress my belly; I can't stop it from shaking as you play with me. "And the way you look at this belly...I know what you're imagining....

"... And my tits, what you've done to them... They're so much heavier now, it's a reminder... Don't you like them, too, these huge... jugs? You gave them to me, you did this to me, turned me into a big-titty milf, and now I... I'm so heavy all over... I'm so soft! I wobble whenever I move.... You made me a cow...." I press my tits together, deepening my cleavage. For a moment, I wonder if I should moo. Would they like that? Would it be a little too far, a little too weird?

They stand, leaning in, hand still between my legs, hard body pressing against my soft one. Lips brushing my ear.

"I'll do it again."

I gasp, I freeze.

"So... you're a cow, now?"

My heartbeat pounds in my ears, and I buck my widened hips against their hand, fingers still inside me, torturing me, waiting for an answer. When it comes, my voice is small and timid.

"...I'm your fat little cow."

"Oh, but I don't want a *little* cow."

And they'd touch me just right, grant me release, but then they'd put both hands on my belly, letting them sink in just a little, the fat of my belly rising up behind their palms and between their fingers, warm and soft.

"... But I know what I can do about that."

[middlingmay]

Marge is Gale's Beard AU

I don't know what happened, but this was supposed to be a funny cute little scene of Bucky stumbling across Marge getting a little frisky with another guy, not knowing she's not actually Gale's girlfriend, and promptly losing his shit. Like 1K words, max

BUT OVER 6000 WORDS LATER AND HERE WE ARE.

I need to be stopped, jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: violence, blood. Also period-typical attitudes towards monogamy.

Also, John doesn't look to good for part of this fic, but he is genuinely apologetic, and comes out the other side the John we all know and love. He's just going through some things!

Read under the cut!

Ostensibly, this little get together was a send off for Bucky who was being shipped off to Thorpe Abbotts in England thanks to his new and entirely unwanted position as Air Executive. But it was also a chance for the rest of the fellas to enjoy one more night of fun and frivolity with their loved ones before they left the States in a few weeks, some of them for the very first time. Maybe some of them for the last.

And for Buck, that meant none other than Marge.

They had been friends since they were kids. She was the first and remained the only girl he had ever brought home to his mother, and even father was on his best behaviour whenever she was around. Such was the power of Marjorie Spencer.

She was also the first and only girl he had ever kissed. They were teenagers, and even if Gale wasn’t as half-wild as his classmates about all the pretty girls, he was still a hormonal boy and one night, when he walked her home, he took her little face in his big hands and kissed her.

She’d pulled back frowning. “Gale. I don’t have brothers, but if I did I reckon that’s what it’d feel like to kiss ‘em.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d heard the nasty locker room talk about boys sporting half a woody just at kissin’ a girl, and Gale hadn’t felt so much as a flicker.

Then, some while later, he’d felt the full fury of those teenage hormones when James ‘Jett’ Granger, school football star, had bowled him over and landed on top of him on the floor with a thud.

Jett had laughed and apologised and hauled Gale, who was not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, up like he was nothing with an apology on his lips. Like he hadn’t just upended Gale’s entire world.

When he told Marge, she’d cackled and leered like a locker room boy and said, “Did you…” and stuck her tongue between her teeth.

Gale spluttered and coughed on his spit and his blood pounded in his ears. But he couldn’t deny it, even as he scolded, “Marjorie Spencer!”

But once she got over her glee and teasing, she saw Gale work his lip like a well done steak and softened. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.”

Gale scoffed. “We both know you’re the only one round here who thinks like that.”

Even Marge couldn’t stubborn her way out of that cold hard fact.

“Alright then,” she said with a set to her jaw. “Then you’ll be my fella, far as anyone knows. Least until you find one of your own.”

Gale’s heart flooded his body with warmth and he must have looked at Marge like she was a saint. “I can’t do that, Marge. What if you find a guy you really want to be your fella?”

But Marge looked highly sceptical. “Round here? You’re all I got.”

He smiled at the sentiment but he still wore worry on his brow and Marge darted forward to kiss at least a bit of it away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

And they never had. Right up until Gale enlisted and was due to be shipped off to basic training, Marge kept assuring him every boy that came around was a knucklehead, and as little as Gale even let himself do so much as look, he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.

The night before he left, after an awkward near silent dinner with his folks that his mother had insisted on, he and Marge had laid a blanket out on an empty field and looked at the starts.

“I still can’t believe you’re going,” she said, voice thick.

Gale couldn’t say ‘sorry’, couldn’t say he wished he wasn’t going, because he wasn’t no liar. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he was a boy and he couldn’t wait to get started.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy.” But that there, that was the truth.

Marge snorted, true and ugly. “Yeah, right. You’re going to be surrounded by all the cute boys and I’m stuck here with the cream of the Caspar crop.”

Gale kicked her shoe. “Oh, yeah. No lookin’. No touchin’. Not unless I wanna come home with a crack in my skull and a blue ticket in my first. At the least.”

Because Gale wasn’t scared of the military. He wasn’t scared of leaving home or being surrounded by strangers. He wasn’t scared at the possibility of having to head into a fight. But being found out? That petrified him.

Marge clutched his hand with all the strength she possessed. “I’ll write you,” she vowed. “Every day if I have to. I’ll spritz the letters with perfume and kiss them and everything. No one will know, I promise.”

Marge’s promises were better than the word of God.

Until he met John Egan.

The long-limbed, freckled, moustached, larger and louder than life man had thrown himself into Gale’s life with very little input from the man himself. He given him his name and kept by his side, like he’d adopted a dog.

Despite himself, Gale had actively tried to dislike John, or Bucky, at first. He put up a cold front to his overt friendliness; threw off his wandering hands possessed with so much affection that he just couldn’t keep them still. Gale refused every single invitation for as long as he could. And yet.

Gale found himself looking for Bucky in whenever he entered a room. He listened carefully whenever he spoke during briefings, and chiming in until they were bouncing ideas of off each other, unaware of the secret smiles of their superior officers. When Gale struggled to sleep, he found himself asking Bucky any question he could think of just to hear him rattle on until he was finally lulled to rest.

He stopped rejecting and started anticipating John’s touch, even positioning himself so as to welcome it, necessitate it; an arm over the back of a chair set close to his; a tiny gap in a doorway or corridor that required a gentle touch to a guy’s waist or his back. And soon Bucky became one of the only men Gale ever touched comfortably beyond a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm.

One of the other boys had tried once, to swing an arm over Gale’s shoulder. Whether it was because he saw Bucky do it and wanted to emulate the two men so respected by the others, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done it again. The less said about it, the better.

Marge noticed, of course.

He hadn’t been aware of how much Bucky had filtered into his letters, and Marge’s questions had seemed innocent at first. And Gale had been all to happy for the outlet. Then in one letter she had scribbled:

He sounds like a scream, Gale. I’m glad you’ve made such a fast friend. I can't wait to meet him, and make sure he’s good enough for my fella. Can’t have you taking up with a no good kinda man who’s just going to lead you into trouble.

He knew Marge better than he knew himself. He could read between the lines: make sure he’s no bigot before you go getting attached.

Which brought them to that night at the bar. The first thing John had done on being introduced to Marge was to sweep her off for a dance.

Springing away with Gale’s girl in tow, Bucky hollered over his shoulder, “I gotta make sure poor Marge gets to dance with someone, tonight, Buck!”

The boys had all jeered and Marge swatted John’s chest playfully, but soon she was just as swept up in the force of him as they all were, and laughed with flushed cheeks the whole time.

It warmed something healing in his heart to see the two people closest to him in the world get on like a house on fire.

At one point, when Bucky went to the bar, Marge slumped into his side.

“Oh, Gale. You never stood a chance against him, did you?”

Not a snowflake’s in hell.

But before Gale could get too despondent about that, she continued. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I think he- I think you’re safe with him. Yeah?”

Gale nodded. Of course he was. It was Bucky.

Then she got that impish look on her face. “So I say, look your fill.”

Gale shushed her and looked around to see if anyone was paying closer attention than they should’ve. No one was, thankfully, and when his heart rate returned to normal, he remembered he could tease right back.

“Well," he said coyly into her ear, “speaking of looking your fill, that black-haired fella at the corner table at the back has been throwing you looks all night.”

Marge pretended to look unaffected and Gale leaned in even closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see you lookin’ back.”

Marge’s vicious little elbow checked his ribs just as Bucky came back with their drinks.

“Thank you, John,” she said primly. “But I have to visit the powder room.”

John toasted her off and looked at Buck, bemused. “Something I said?”

Gale nearly laughed. “Naw. She just likes to keep me in line.”

John shook his head. “And ain’t that a crying shame. I’m surprised she hasn’t upbraided me for trying to undo all her hard work.”

Later, Gale would blame the giddiness that came from John’s proximity for what he said next. “I only gotta behave with her. You can get me as riled up as you like.”

John inhaled too much of his drink and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. Gale flushed to his ears and kicked him under the table.

Giggling and breathless, John kicked him right back even harder. “Noted.”

“Ask Major Cleven! He’s great at calculations.”

“Sir? Sir!”

A few boys in the ground crew called Buck over, and John waved him off good naturedly. “Go awe the masses, Buck. I need a smoke anyway.”

It look less than five minutes for Marge to come barrelling towards him, a wild and furious and worried look him her eye.

“Gale, It’s John! You gotta get John!”

*

There was a door at the back of the bar that led to the dead end of an alley outside. When he just wanted a quiet smoke in the peace of the evening, John liked to head out there instead of the front with everyone else, where he could easily while away the better part of an hour talking to all and sundry.

And he was enjoying spending his evening Buck. And Marge.

She was a sweet little spitfire. She had the looks of spun glass and high class, but even after spending nothing more than a handful of hours with her, Bucky could tell she was no wall flower, no meek dame. And John didn’t think about it too closely, but he liked that the girl who Gale loved so much wasn’t so different from himself.

Where John liked the think of him and Buck as sides of the same coin - dark and light; steady and gregarious; push and pull - Marge and Buck were one of a kind, like the couples on the movie posters. Their love felt inevitable.

And, as John was learning about himself, he was apparently a possessive man, because between him and the cigarette in his mouth, he could acknowledge the bitter flash of jealousy he got when he looked at them too long.

He pushed open the back door, a box of matches in hand, and looked up on hearing two frightened gasps.

Marge. Her eyes were so wide, there was more white than blue. Her hair was a mess, clutched in the meaty hand of another man. A man who’s face was too close to the crook of her neck.

And both of them wore such fear in their eyes.

John’s cigarette finally gave up its precarious balance on John’s gaping lips and tumbled to the floor. The box of matches dove after it.

“John.” It was a tiny, panicked sound.

And it snapped John back to attention. With two strides of his long legs he had Marge tucked behind him and slammed the man into the brick wall of the alley hard, and smiled ugly with all teeth when he heard the meaty thunk of his head hit the wall.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” John snarled in the man’s face, low and incandescent with rage he didn’t even know how to begin to unleash.

“John-” Marge tugged at his back, urgent.

“Taking advantage of a girl after a few drinks-”

“No, John-!”

He grabbed two fistfuls of the guy’s shirt and rattled him until he heard teeth clack. “A girl who’s taken. By your superior officer!”

“It’s not like that!” Marge yanked at John’s ear and he was forced to turn away from the man, but he didn’t relinquish him.

He calmed himself as much as he could. “Marge. Are you alright?”

But Marge looked painfully, worryingly exacerbated. “For God’s sake, John! It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looked like he was forcing himself on ya!”

But the Marge clutching at his lapels didn’t look scared, not of the man behind him, anyway. She had a little bit of fear when she looked at him though, and John didn’t like that at all.

It’s not what it looks like.

And if it looked like she was forced…

John’s heart broke for Gale, before the red pricks of anger started to twitch at his muscles.

“Oh. It’s like that, huh?”

“No!”

“Are you with Gale or aren’t you?!”

Marge swallowed something down and almost reluctantly said, “Yes.”

The boy chose the wrong moment to pluck at the reserves of his bravado.

“There’s no harm, Major,” he panted. “It was just some harmless fun. It didn’t mean nothing. We all know Cleven’s too much of a gentleman-”

John snapped his fist into the man’s jaw and followed through. The wall was the only thing that kept him standing. So John pulled him upright and slammed a punch into the side of his face and he went tumbling down.

John followed him, straddling him as he grabbed a handful of the guy’s jacket. Blood was already smeared over his mouth and John rained down hell and hit his nose with a crack and blood came pouring outta that too.

He switched his grip to the guy’s hair to keep the lolling head upright as he leaned down and growled into his ear. “You think you’re going to make a fool out of either one of them, you got another thing coming.”

He pulled back to land one last hit, a good one to drive his point home, when a solid weight barrelled into him from behind, wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into the air. John spun around swinging, but another arm got a stranglehold around the back of his neck and he was wrapped up painfully tight and too close to do anything.

And the scent of Buck’s cologne penetrated his senses and the fight left him.

Because fuck. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to tell Buck he’d caught his woman in the arms of another man? Should he even tell him? If it was Bucky, he’d wanna know, but maybe if he spoke to Marge and she promised it was a drunken mistake (God knows he’d had plenty of those), and it would never happen again, he wouldn’t have to tank Buck’s perfect love story.

“John!” Buck shook him hard enough that Bucky knew he tried to get his attention more than once. “The heck were you thinking?! You outta your goddamn mind?!”

Bucky heard shuffling behind him and he managed to turn just enough in Buck’s unforgiving grip to see the man being led inside by some of their boys, who shot furtive, concerned glances at their Majors.

Then there was Marge, hanging back and looking at Buck with something awfully sorry. He felt Buck nod at her and she went to head back inside, but not before sending Bucky a scathing look and a roll of her eyes.

Now there was nothing to spare him from Buck.

Only now did Buck loosen his grip and let Bucky back a step, and only a step.

“You have done some damn foolish things since I met you, Bucky. But fightin’ with a subordinate?!”

“You don’t understand-” and Buck really wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

“I understand plenty. Marge told me everything.”

Buck couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh? And what did Marge say?”

“That you caught her neckin’ with some guy and went off the damn rails!”

Buck was shocked stupid. Not just that Marge had told the truth, but that Buck seemed more pissed at him that he was at her.

“Then why are you riding me for?! I was defending you - you should be thanking me!”

Buck tensed his jaw so hard, Bucky expected to hear a crack. “Thanking you? For nearly bringing down my whole house of cards?!”

By now Bucky felt he was missing some vital information, and he couldn’t think straight with Buck so close to him, radiating fury. He shrugged off Buck’s hands and shook his head.

“Hold on, hold on,” he held up his palms. “You’re pissed at me for socking the guy making it with your girl behind your back?”

Buck sighed harsh and annoyed like Bucky was the most exasperating thing in the world and Bucky was getting more offended by the second.

“No, y’dummy!”

“Dummy?”

“I’m mad because if Marge hadn’t kept her head and got me before anyone else saw you fighting, everyone might have found out she ain’t actually my girl!”

“I - what?!”

Buck gave a frustrated groan that didn’t quite get out of his throat and prayed for patience. And maybe a little bravery. He trusted John, vexing as he could me. But sometimes fear was instinctual. But he couldn’t let Bucky go on thinking he saw what he thought he saw. But Christ if the other man didn’t make it difficult.

“But - you and Marge - since high school. You said-”

“Well, I lied. Kind of.”

“Kind of? You kind of lied?”

Bucky huffed. “We’ve been tellin’ people we’ve been together since high school. So no one would know…about me…” he trailed off meaningfully.

For all but Bucky, apparently. “Know what?”

“That I…that…” God, why couldn’t he just say it? Bucky may be as straight as they come, but he wasn’t that kind of guy, and he was Buck's best friend to boot. He choked down his frustrations and finally managed to spit out, “That…Marge ain’t the only one who likes looking at cute boys.”

Buck blushed as he said it. He sounded like a stupid teenager. But Bucky just stuttered to a stop and gawped at him. Buck watched his mouth flap, trying and failing to utter a sound, like it too couldn’t believe John Egan had finally been rendered silent.

“I - you’re-?”

“Gay? Queer? A big ol’ blue ticket? Yeah.”

What he certainly hadn’t been expecting was for Bucky to near drop to his knees in a mix of relief and panic.

“Haah-fuck, Gale," John grimaced, breathing heavy over his knees, which looked to be the only thing supporting his weight. "They're gonna court martial me in the morning. Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad I didn’t have to break your heart, tellin’ you Marge was stepping out on you, but fuck. I punched out a subordinate. Fuck.”

Side-stepping the unintentional lie in what John said, Buck, mightily and heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. “Don't get hysterical, Bucky. It don't become you. Relax, I'll fix it.”

And really, the sheer force of the scepticism on Bucky's face was down right insulting.

“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?”

Buck's brain worked furiously for an excuse - the reason’s why men hit other men over women that weren’t jealousy. Protection being the main one, but he didn’t want to put Marge in the frame at all if possible. Then he remembered a story Bucky told him once about a boy that had taken a shine to Bucky’s much younger sister, and Bucky had followed him home one day after his sister had come home cryin' with red bruises round her wrists.

“You ain't gonna like it.”

“Solid start.”

Buck nearly cuffed him round the ear like an insolent, child. “Hush. Now, you uh, ever planning on introducing your sisters to the boys?”

Bucky balked. “Absolutely not. What does that-”

“Listen. That man inside, bleeding - he looked a lot like a fella who left your sister a little worse for wear. Let the boys take that however they see fit.”

“The hell you tryna say about my sister?!”

“Nothing, idjit! Listen!”

Bucky shut his trap with visible effort.

“He looked almost exactly like that man, and when you saw him near Marge - near her and nothing else, you understand? You lost it. Alright? You’d had too much to drink, you weren’t thinking clear, and you were seeing you baby sister, not Marge. Right?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture was so typically Gale’s that it stole his breath to see it on the other man.

But he had to press on. “Right?”

Bucky capitulated. “Alright, alright. But Jeannie ever finds out about this, we’re both dead.”

Buck eyed Bucky then, waiting for the other show to fall. “Is that all you gotta say to me?”

Bucky's face fell and cleared in realisation and Buck's stomach bubbled with a flare of anxiety about what he might say.

“Ah, fuck. Sorry, yeah. I’ve got to apologise to Marge, don’t I?”

Buck’s eye twitched, because Bucky had to be playing so damn dumb on purpose.

But, he wasn’t wrong.

“Well, yeah. She liked that boy. And you gon’ scared him off.”

Bucky scoffed though, waving a dismissive hand. “If you’re her fake fella, Buck. Marge has got to raise her standards for her real one. Don’t worry, I’ll find her a nice guy; a real prince to your pauper, so to speak.”

“That is not how the story goes.”

But then something occurred to Buck. He’d seen Bucky charm plenty of women, a lot of them blondes. Now that Bucky knew Marge was technically single…

“You mean someone like you?”

Bucky smirked and stepped toe to toe with Buck. He let his large hands smooth out the wrinkles Buck had worked into his own uniform wrangling Bucky earlier. His fingers slipped to his crooked tie and slowly knotted it back into place.

“You callin’ me a prince, Buck Cleven?”

Buck wanted to brush it off, to turn it into a joke, say anything to break the tension. But his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth. All his brain could process was the proximity of Bucky, the smell of Bucky, and heat of his fingers at Buck’s collar.

Bucky leaned closer, like a he had a secret to share. “That make you my princess?”

And that should not have crackled a hot, thrilling tremor to life that sent him rocking infinitesimally closer to Bucky, a gasp somehow escaping the clutch his teeth had on his lips.

Bucky’s eyes darkened, but before he could say or do anything, the backdoor to the pub opened again and Marge’s golden head popped out.

“If you two are quite done?” she sounded like a teacher scolding the class clowns. “I am fending off almost an entire bomb group in there by myself and they’re like a pack of wild dogs. Some help, if you’d be so kind.”

Buck coughed and stepped back and trotted dutifully to Marge’s side. “Sorry, darlin’,” he said and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

Bucky was left with Marjorie Spencer staring at him, hands on her hips.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

Sheepishly, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defence, you could do better?”

He saw murder in her eyes and quickly backtracked. Now was not the time for jokes. Evidently Marge did not appreciate them the way Buck did.

Bucky dropped his arms by his sides and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what I thought. I’m not - God, Marge, I’m not a violent man. Bit of a motor mouth sure, and I’ll stand up for any of my boys, but I don’t usually…”

Marge let him stew in the silence for a bit. But eventually, “No you shouldn’t have. I might be thankful that Gale has you looking out for him, but you can’t be such a hot head, John Egan. I don’t appreciate it and Gale don’t like it.”

Gently, Bucky took one of Marge’s hands, tiny in one of his, and raised it to his lips to place a sorry kiss there with a rueful smile “I will never lay hands on someone like that again, unless it's for a very good reason. I promise. But Buck’s pretty good at keeping me in check.”

Marge blessed him with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he is.”

And then Bucky was back in full force. “But seriously, Marge, you’ve got to at least date sideways. You can’t date down. Anyone less than Buck ain’t good enough for you.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed him back inside, letting him offer his arm. “Well when you find him, you let me know. Because I’m shit outta luck.”

They re-entered the pub laughing and any remaining tension in the room seemed to release. As Bucky took Marge for another spin round the dancefloor, he felt Buck’s eyes on them and risked a glance. And what a risk. Gale stared, blue eyes pinned on him over the smooth rim of his glass, tracking Bucky’s every move and licking the moisture off his lips.

Bucky threw him a wink and mouthed, Later, princess.

*

Colonel Huglin did not appreciate having to consider disciplinary action at six am. Yet having a man like Major John Egan under his command meant Huglin’s dreams didn’t count for much.

He watched this respected, no, revered man stand before him, clasp and unclasp his hands, purse his lips, and shift his legs like he was fighting the urge to rock on his heels. Like a misbehaving school boy. If Huglin had never met him, and someone had asked him to pick out the best pilot (on par with Major Cleven), the quickest thinker, an excellent strategist and the man almost single-handedly responsible for morale on base, Huglin wouldn't even have spared John a glance.

And yet.

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I’d bet my commission that the young fella you thrashed good and sound yesterday looks real pretty this morning.”

John grimaced. And, surprisingly enough it was not the wince of one awaiting an unwanted scolding, but one that actually looked like regret. John, who never ever failed to look a man in the eye, looked down at his shoes, lips twisting, and just nodded.

Major Cleven had come to him even earlier, at 5.20am, before Huglin had even had his coffee, and filled him in on what happened last night.

“You know Major Egan, Sir. I know you don’t always see eye to eye but he’s not a violent man, not like that. But,” and Gale and leaned forward in his chair, concern creasing his brow and wringing his hands together, “his sister, before he left, she had some…awful kind of trouble. With a fella. That looked just like the man from last night, John said. You know how much he looks after the men, and he loves his sisters. It drives him crazy he’s not there to look after ‘em with their dad not being around anymore… Sorry Sir, I’m rambling.” He was, and it was unlike Cleven who was a man of few words. Surely, a testament to his worry over his friend and brother-in-arms. “I just mean to say, John thought - John saw -"

And Huglin had cut Cleven off with a wave of his hand. He understood. He’d seen countless men wide eyed, crying or screaming at something or someone who wasn’t really there. It didn’t mean Egan could get entirely off the hook, but he understood.

“You have anything to say for yourself?”

“Can I see him?”

Huglin hadn't been expecting that. “What?”

“The…guy. God I don’t even know his name. But I’d like to apologise, if he’ll let me. He deserves that at least, and I’d like to settle it before I go.”

He wasn’t due to fly to Thorpe Abbots until mid-morning. There was plenty of time. “Evans. Airman First Class Evans. And I’ll ask his superior officer and let you know.”

Bucky released a breath and nodded, more to himself, Huglin thought, before he squared his shoulders at the Colonel.

“I just want to apologise, Sir. What I did yesterday was not becoming of a Major of the US Airforce. I know that. It’s not the kind of man I am or how I want my men to see me. I’m…” John swallowed. “I embarrassed the uniform. And I hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Huglin needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew part of the reason the men admired Egan so was because he never backed down from the higher ups, always spoke his mind and said his piece - but Huglin couldn’t think of one time it wasn’t on their behalf. To get them what they needed or give them the best odds, or even distract them on days the base just became too heavy. But this was a side of John that Huglin had never seen: the human man underneath the military man.

And Huglin had sisters, too. He could empathise.

“I’m glad to hear that, Major. Normally, there’d be a disciplinary hearing, and we’d decide what was to be done with you.”

John bit his cheek but nodded, accepting.

“But, I think in this case, I can smooth things over. If, you apologise to Evans and his CO, and goddamn cool it on the liquor, John. I mean it. There might even be a mandatory anger management session with the doc in your future, and if so I won't hear a damn single word of complaint from you, understood?”

John reared back looking stunned, and Huglin let himself enjoy it. “Don’t look so surprised. Your buddy Cleven was by here and told me everything. And be glad he did. Otherwise I’d be tempted to ground you the rest of this damn war.”

John said nothing.

“Alright, get out of here. You’ve got a trip to prepare for. And an apology, too.”

“Yes, sir,. John turned smartly on his heels and headed for the door.

When he reached the jam, Huglin called out,. "And John? Give my best wishes to your sister, will you? If they need anything, you let me know.”

John made a funny noise in his throat and nodded before he all but fled the room.

Buck was waiting for him outside. He leapt to his feet when he saw Bucky emerge looking frazzled.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Bucky fell into step next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, “What on earth did you tell Huglin? Because whatever it was, I almost got out of there scot-free.”

And Buck didn't fail to notice that Bucky didn’t sound happy about it. He new in the sober light of day, and with the clarity sleep brings, John would be beating himself up something fierce for attacking that boy. Which he should, by rights, but John did take self-flagellation to extremes sometimes. Gale wondered if it was the Catholic in him, lapsed or not.

“You’re still Air Exec?”

“Yeah?”

Buck nudged him. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and came to a halt at the mouth of the building, staring out onto the tarmac.

“I want to apologise to the boys,” he said, hands on his hips and head hanging low. “I just, can’t stop thinking about them seeing me like that. I don’t…”

Standing where they were, Buck couldn't do much but clasp his shoulder and lean down to look Bucky in the eye. “Then let’s go find ‘em.”

The boys, as it turned out, were just finishing getting dressed. They didn’t notice the Majors enter the bunk house at first.

“-wonder what happened?”

“None of your business, that’s what happened,” said DeMarco.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Brady. Bucky flinched.

“Ay,” Curtis dove into the conversation. “You don’t know shit. If he got a bit banged up, then he deserved it. Don’t go thinking anything else.”

And despite himself, Bucky let himself crack a smile at Curt’s friendship and loyalty.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Brady insisted, stubborn and louder. “John’s our leader. He’s a Major. I’m his co-pilot for crying out loud. He should be setting an example, and starting bar fights isn’t it. I don’t know about you, but I want to head into war with the John Egan who has your back, and keeps his head in the air so good he solves problems before half the crew even notice they’re there. Not the John who’ll flip at a switch. I don’t like that John.”

Several of the boys protested and booed Brady and started yelling and cursing, and they knew a more serious argument was about the break out with Brady bearing the brunt of it if they didn’t step in.

Buck let Bucky go when he stepped further into the room.

“Brady’s right,” he called, and the men snapped to attention and Brady dropped the shoe he’d been polishing and stumbled to his feet.

Buck walked up steady behind Bucky, a solid presence at his shoulder. “At ease, gentlemen.”

Bucky stood tall and true. “Last night, I acted in a way that was unfit for a man of the US Airforce, rank be damned. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I just wanted you to know that.” He surveyed the boys and they looked on silent. “We all make mistakes, and things get heated sometimes. This one is my mistake, and I’ll own that. So don’t you boys go thinking that starting fights with your fellow airmen to blow of some steam is acceptable. It’s not. You can all learn that lesson from me. That’s part of my job - teaching you how to avoid making the same mistakes I have.”

And in true Bucky fashion he flipped the solemn mood of the room with a switch and a turn of his lips and he gave them a sincere Bucky grin.

“Like that time I wandered into the Colonel’s quarters by mistake and got stuck on latrine duty for a week.” The boys relaxed into their laughter. “Remember that?” He pointed at Curt. “You made me sleep out in that abandoned storage hut until I was done.”

“You stank!”

“Or that time I yanked Ham back from the shaky step heading into the mess hall?”

Ham howled from his bunk. “Because you’d tripped a week or so before it, and sent your scrambled eggs all down a Red Cross dame. That handprint on your cheek didn’t disappear for a whole day!”

Buck just stood back and marvelled at Bucky's ability to work a room.

“So if me or Buck here ain’t around to give you the benefit of our experience,” he reached out and clasped the back of Brady’s head and scrubbed it playfully, “be damn sure you listen to Brady. Best co-pilot there is.”

The men all hollered and scrambled to rib at Brady, rubbing his head like Bucky did or punching him playfully in the arm or chucking his chin.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “Because we’re the 100th. The best damn bomb squad there is. And we’ll damn well act like it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”

Bucky shouted louder. “I said do you hear me?!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“Because who are we?!”

“The 100th!”

“Who are we?!!”

“THE 100TH!”

“Then get your gear on, get out there, and show ‘em how it’s done!”

Making a thunderous racket, the boys gathered the last of their things and rushed out the door, Brady the last of the group, shooting Bucky a small, pleased, and proud smile before he disappeared.

The silence they left behind was a stark contrast. Until Buck couldn’t take it anymore.

He snorted and cackled and John threw his hands in the air. “Really, Buck?”

Buck cleared his throat and got himself under control. Adopting the highest voice he could, in something that could barely pass as Bucky's odd not-quite Wisconsin accent, he teased him, “My name’s John Egan, and I’m a terrible leader on the ground!”

Bucky shoved him hard, but yanked him back with a firm arm around his bicep and pulled him in close, so the buckles of their belts gave a soft clack in greeting.

They were alone.

“I’ll be flying at at 10.30 sharp,” Bucky mumbled up close.

Buck nodded. “I know. I’ll see you off, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Mm, with a handshake in front of the boys.”

Buck gave him a firm look. “Of course. Don’t you go thinking otherwise.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, and Buck was surprised that he even could. “But the boys aren’t here, now.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re lookin’ for, huh? A little send of?”

Bucky's hands bravely slipped down to his waist and squeezed, and Buck resolutely did not think about how his waist fit all nice in John’s stupidly large hands. He was not a small man - he was tall; he worked hard all his life, and despite a less than stellar childhood, always had enough to eat. But John was just so damn big.

“Just a kiss, Buck. For luck. To tide me over till you get over the pond.”

Buck grinned, a rare one showing his teeth and leaned in until he felt the softness of Bucky's lips skim the edges of his own. He kept it there, just not quite touching until he heard Bucky's breath hitch and his hands tried their hardest not to wander some more.

And against that mouth he’d dreamed about in his sleep, he’d fantasised about in his waking hours, he murmured, playful and sweet, “No.”

He turned sharp in his heels and escaped Bucky's grasp and threw a pleased grin over his shoulder at Bucky gaping in his wake.

“Buck!”

“You’ll just have to wait for me, Johnny!” And Gale ducked out of the bunk house and left Bucky behind, to attend his duties.

And John stood there wondering what on earth he was in for, taking up with a tease like Buck Cleven. But he couldn’t wait to find out.

[remidyal]

So I'm going to start speculating a little about future D20 seasons, just because we're running out of JY and thinking about that makes me sad.

My guess is that we're getting another four side quests, plus the replays of the Time Quangle live shows, before whenever the next IH season is (probably jan or feb 2025). From Dropout's production schedule, most likely at least two, probably three, and maybe all four are either already filmed or filming presently. The strikes may have disrupted this somewhat, however.

We know the names of two from the 5th anniversary video; we also know from the JY FAQ for a fact that one of these two, called "Never Stop Blowing Up" is next.

In the last few years this has been the slot for a campaign not GMed by Brennan or Aabria; I'm going to actually guess that there's a decent chance Brennan also won't be a player though I'm not at all sure of the timing with paternity leave and all. What the season is from that title could be a lot of things, though social media stars or stuntpeople have been guesses I've enjoyed. I think this is going to be a new setting, rather than something set in a preexisting universe, but I could be wrong there and there's been speculation that it might be something Starstruck (in which case I WOULD expect Brennan at the table).

GM possibilities for this or any other season even just from among people who have played on D20 before are too widespread to even do a complete list; highlights who have played on but haven't GMed for D20 and who I understand have experience (and would be excited to see) include but certainly aren't limited to Jasper, Ify, and Anjali from various side quests. Among the IH, Siobhan has made it fairly clear that she's not interested in GMing. I don't know if Ally has experience or not but they would obviously run something wild and I'd be here for it. Lou I believe has DMed home games but not actual plays; I'm uncertain if he'd be interested in running for a show, but I'd certainly watch if he did. Emily and especially Murph have a ton of experience as well but I think NADDPOD is kind of too much for Murph at least to GM outside that. Zac is low-key the IH I think is the most likely to end up GMing a season; rotating heroes is a thing, of course, but I don't think the workload there is as high as NADDPOD's.

We also know a Dungeons and Drag Queens 2 is coming at some point. The most likely format for this is a straightforward sequel with Brennan GMing for either the same four players or four different Queens, but I would actually love to see one of the players from the prior run step into the GM seat if any of them have gotten deeply into the hobby in the meantime. If they swap Brennan out for another DM here, this would maybe be the one season where I'd be delighted for it to be Murph, simply for the makeup possibilities. (One possibility is simply that he wears Cody Walsh cosplay for the season.)

I also think (or maybe I'm just trying to speak into existence) that we will get another 10-episode Aabria-GMed season this year, probably as the lead-in right before the next IH season for the third time running. Burrow's End and ACoFaF are both out of this world, stellar seasons to me (MiMa is... complicated by how much I want the property it's mocking to fade from memory, but that isn't its fault or hers) and I want to see what she does next.

Last, probably between D&DQ2 and that 10-episode season if that happens, we'll probably have another 4-6 episode original. If Brennan DMs D&DQ2 and Never Stop Blowing Up, this will probably be someone else; otherwise, not much to go off of.

It's possible that the live shows end up filling in one of these slots and are treated as a season until themselves, but I think they're going to be released not all in a row but rather to fill weeks between seasons. This might just be a greedy hope on my part, though! I do hope Brennan sits out at least one season, and I'd love it if the person who GMs who isn't Aabria or Brennan is someone who's done less prominent projects. (I'm actually talking myself into really rooting for a Zac-GMed season, though Ify's been my main hope for a long while.)

One thing that does seem to have shifted lately, specifically in Dropout's marketing - in the past, they were always extremely secretive about seasons past the currently airing one until it was complete, with the names not even known until the release of the season trailers. This changed a little when they teased Matt Mercer gming a season (which turned out to be RavWar) during Never After's airing; it's changed much more in the last two seasons, with a teaser for Junior Year coming out before Burrow's End had even started airing and with the names of multiple seasons being given in advance. It wouldn't surprise me if we continue getting little seeds for future seasons as we move forward.

[radioisntdead]

Partner in crime

Alastor x gn! reader

Warnings: OOC, death, inaccurate portrayal of getting shot

Song used

You and Alastor had known each other for years, you were close childhood friends at least you thought you were,

You remember your mothers calling the two of you a couple of peas in a pod, or partners in crime,

It was funny, who would've thought the two of you would actually become partners in crime.

Maybe if you didn't have an unhealthy codependency on Alastor you wouldn't had ended up like you did.

When you're gone I feel alone again

You scrubbed away at the floor, cleaning away any remnant of the blood that was spilled that evening, Alastor had gone to bury the remains of the poor man he had slaughtered.

The voices cannot hold my hand

You would lure them in, you were good at lulling others into a false sense of security,

They keep me company at very best

and he'd kill them when they least expected it, sometimes you felt guilty but Alastor would be quick to convince you that your guilt was unnecessary, that the people whose lives the two of you stole away deserved it.

Distract me from my loneliness

They did deserve it right?

Maybe I'm just an anomaly

You continued scrubbing the floor clean, but no matter how hard you scrubbed you could never wash away the fact that someone had died there

Even my demons have their families

You wondered how their families reacted to their loved ones death, were they mournful, were they joyful? Did they not care? Did they even notice?

Truly something must be wrong with me

Would anyone notice if you died? Besides Alastor you didn't have many friends, sure you were kinda friends with Mimzy but that was only because of Alastor, and your family, well, let's not talk about that.

You really didn't have anyone but Alastor, and you were alright with that, if you had Alastor the rest of the world could burn for all you cared.

To need you as much as I do

You heard the door open, you hurriedly dropped the towel into the bucket of now cold water, grabbing another rag you wiped away the remaining liquid.

I was never meant to win

You smiled up at Alastor from the ground.

I was never meant to win

"Welcome back Alastor!"

I was never meant to win

Codependency is truly more harmful then people give it credit for.

You'd sacrifice anything, anyone just to remain by Alastor's side, just to see him smile which he did often.

Here's the reigns

You had done this who knows how many times,

Take ahold of me

Lure them in, hand over to Alastor and then clean up the aftermath while he hid the corpse.

Please don't let me go

You didn't change the routine by much, there wasn't much of a mess this time so Alastor asked that you tag along with him this time.

You do the talking

You held the lantern lighting his area as he dug a deep grave, wouldn't want the body resurfacing anytime soon right?

Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

You whispered something to him before he climbed out of the hallow grave getting ready to put the poor soul he had mercilessly killed in it.

There's a dog barking right around the block

He had just gotten done burying the corpse, you were sat comfortably on the ground with the lantern in your lap, he reached out his hand to help you up.

You both froze when you heard the unmistakeable sound of dogs barking.

And a big ol' whistle blow

Alastor looked at you and you looked back at him, you quickly took his hand to pull yourself up, lantern in your free hand.

Run for it

The two of you ran, you could faintly hear the leaves crunching underneath your feet, the cold night wind stinging your face.

I'll keep em occupied for you

The barking got louder, and you tripped over a tree root, lantern falling onto the grass the candle inside falling just at the right angle to extinguish leaving you in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars above.

Alastor kept running, did he know you fell? He wouldn't abandon you right?

Cause I love you, I love you so

You got up, not bothering to dust yourself off you continued running, you couldn't see Alastor.

Left me hangin at the station

You heard shouting.

Where was Alastor? Did he notice you were missing yet?

But you'll be back for me soon

You saw a glimpse of light.

I'm 'bout to die

You didn't even have time to make a noise as a gunshot was fired into your chest, you fell to the ground.

Where was Alastor? Did he get away? Or was he shot down like you were?

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

You shakily put a hand to the place where the bullet had just entered you, honestly it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

Something tells me you aren't coming

Your vision began to become blurry, was it the blood loss? You didn't think you'd die that quickly,

Would you get to see Alastor one last time?

Guess that I'm truly doomed

Alastor didn't notice you were gone did he? Or maybe he did? Did you really think a future cannibal, present serial killer like Alastor would come back for you? You were a liability.

I'm 'bout to die

It was funny, you knew what kind of person he was and you still held out hope that he wouldn't abandon you.

Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you

You still held out hope even as your blood covered the forest ground.

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you gazed up at the night sky,

You wondered if Alastor was looking up at the sky too, maybe he had gotten home already?

I'm 'bout to die

It was a good night to die, the last sight you'd see would be the star filled night sky.

Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

Alastor let out a string of French words as he turned around to go fetch you, hoping that you weren't too far behind.

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine

Branches and leaves crunched under his shoes as he sped through the woods.

Oh, I know that we're not the same

Your hope that he'd come back for you was slowly dwindling, the voices from before had disappeared, maybe they had fled, maybe they didn't know what they did, or maybe they just didn't care.

My heart's on the line

Alastor stopped by a tree for a moment to catch his breath, the only source of light was the moon and stars above.

I'm just a pawn in your game

To Alastor you were a expendable friend.

Not your partner in crime

In all reality though, To Alastor you were everything, he'd go through hell and back if you asked, he'd take down the most ruthless of people if it'd make you smile.

And you're slowly killing me

You felt tired, you wanted to close your eyes but you fought to keep them open.

You didn't want to die.

Taking your time

Alastor continued running, soon enough he stumbled upon you.

You're slowly killing me, taking your time

With red soaked clothing you laid limp on the ground.

You're slowly killing me

"[Name]? Mon étoile?"

Taking your- I was never meant to win

You smiled as you heard Alastor's voice.

You're slowly killing me

You didn't know if you were imagining it or if he really came back for you,

Maybe it was a last act of comfort given to you before you died.

Taking your- I was never meant to win

Alastor leaned down beside you, he gently put a hand on your cheek.

You're slowly killing me

You smiled at him, just barely being able to mutter an "Alastor."

And yet I don't mind You were never meant to win

You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

You're slowly killing me,

The last thing you saw was Alastor, and the last thing you heard was another gunshot.

But please take your time

At least the two of you would be reunited soon enough.

Good evening folks! Originally I was supposed to post the murder Valentino with JoJo Siwa playing in the background fic today but I hit a slump with the ending and plus I think may have eaten something unfortunate because I feel sick so uh, BACK TO BACK ANGST Y'ALL, ALASTOR TODAY, TV MAN TOMORROW!

[youlovearii]

Can you do a yandere class 1a x reader if that's ok? (If u don't that's fine!)

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE I LOVE YANDERE CLASS 1-A

SORRY IF I DRAGGED THIS ALONG TOO LONG I HAD SO MANY DIFFERENT IDEAS AND THOUGHTS GOING DOR THIS😭 IDK IF YOU WANTED HEADCANNONS OR LIKE A LITTLE STORY SO I SORTA DID BOTH?? IDK

this sucks so bad im so disappointed what is this everything was so random and pulled out of my ass

okaokay SO LET ME COOK—

i feel like when you first start going to UA you'd be a new student, maybe a little after the usj attack? and the moment you walk in you have EVERYONE'S eyes on you, you looked so sweet and small compared to the rest of them!

so when you walk up to the front of the class to introduce yourself, nobody dares to interrupt you🗣

"my name is Y/N L/N! please take care of me!" you bow, giving them a closed eye smile.

izuku is the first one to run up and talk to you, questioning everything about you. "whats your quirk?! how does it work? why are you coming now for school??—" it goes on and on until he hears, and swears the most angelic thing ever, your laugh.

he feels like the world stopped hearing your laugh, it was so beautiful, just like you! but now you did that, he becomes a stuttering mess, all thoughts leaving his pretty head. he'd do anything to hear that beautiful laugh over and over again but only because of him!

"im glad you asked! my quirk is kinda confusing.. i dont really know much about it but its what i call purple magic! i can basically do anything, i can move things with my mind including people, and kinda like telekinesis but it adds a purple tint surrounding the object!"

everyone was listening to your explanation, two certain boys were listening closely, wondering the possibilities your quirk could have.

"EEEK!! YOUR SO PRECIOUS!" mina was already obsessed with the way you looked, and you were the absolute cutest! she just wanted to lock you up and take you away from the world and have you all to herself!

a few days went by and you had already became friends with just about everyone in the class, atleast everyone except mineta, todoroki, and bakugou. you made it yoyr mission to make todoroki and bakugou your friends, no matter the cost!

you and sato would do weekly baking contests, (he always let you win and messed up on purpose) and he would ve so proud of your amazing deserts! when the two of you weren't baking, you'd be in your room playing video games with eachother or studying! either way, he was just happy to be with you.

koda would always call for your favorite animals in an open park nearby UA, and the two of you would have mini picnics together! with your favorite animals, koda and you would make a big animal pile and cuddle with all of them! bunnies, squirrels, birds, all sorts of local animals would be surrounding the two of you while you two sat close to eachother, sharing sweet treats with one another. (and the stealing of bread by birds..)

whenever it got too cold outside, shouji would wrap his arms around you and act like a personal blanket for you! you two would lay on the grass watching the stars together and he would wrap his arms around you ro keep you warm. whenever you'd fall asleep he'd carry you back towards his home, which ended up with the occasional sleepovers, he was so happy you felt safe enough to sleep near him! even if it wasn't on purpose` he put sleeping pills in the food you ate earlier just for this

tokoyami and you would always hang out training, you learning to control your emotions so people dont start flying, and him trying to control dark shadow. both tokoyami and dark shadow took a liking to you, and they grew to always want to be near you. you just were so happy and cheerful all the time, they couldnt help it! maybe one day they will always be near you, he could lock you inside his home and you'll be together forever, with no one there to stop him!

you and the 6 girls of the class would also have weekly sleepovers, spa days, or just any time they could find to be with you! whenever mineta would try and bother you, uraraka would just make him float away so he wouldn't anymore! the next day, mineta came to class with his face purple, almost like his hair..

out of everyone in the class, you and uraraka got along the best since you both had similar quirks! the two of you talked to eachother about eachothers drawbacks, and decided to train together sometime so you could both get stronger together! of course this didnt go unnoticed by the rest of the class, them all becoming extremely jealous of uraraka.

bakugou, one of the boys you wanted to become friends with, came up to you one day. the rest of the class was scared of what he would do or say to you, but instead he left you, a note?

ᴛᴇxᴛ ᴍᴇ, xxxx-xxx-xxx. ɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ.

he wants to talk to you?! you know you should be feeling happy, but you cant help but be nervous. he was by far, the cutest boy in the school, nobody could deny that. this is your chance! your chance to finally be his friend!!

after school that day you went straight to texting him, and the two of you had a nice conversation about eachothers day, and getting to know eachother. the next day you two came in side by side, talking to eachother like it was only the two of you in the world.

everyone else was furious, why was katsuki fucking bakugou stealing their girl away?! doesn't he know your theirs? god, izuku was so pissed he could've absolutely destroyed his childhood "friend" right then and there. everyone else was just standing there in shock, not knowing what to do. bakugou would simply snap at them if they dare steal his moment with his beautiful girl. they should know better then to do that.

izuku came up to the two of you, hoping to steal you away for a little from the explosive man.

"h-hey Y/N! would you mind answering some questions for me to jot down in my notebook? i really wanna know more about your quirk!"

of course you wouldn't turn down a chance to help your dear friend izuku, so you went with him, leaving bakugou clenching his fists in defeat. maybe one day you'd see how much better he was then izuku, but for now he would wait, he needs to wait. he cant go scaring off his teddy bear can he now?

while answering questions from izuku, none other then shoto todoroki was staring straight into your soul. it was creepy, but he couldn't help himself! you were just too pretty to not look at! he didn't get enough time to look at you last night through your window, you closed your blinds on him and he decided it would be too far to sneak in to your bedroom.

after talking with izuku, you went back to your seat, which happened to be right behind todoroki.

when you sat down, todoroki was already staring right at you, turned around from the front of the classroom. he would have tried talking to you earlier, but everyone was already surronding you like rabid dogs, so he had chosen to watch from afar. atleast until now.

"seems like you got a lot of friends, L/N." this made you laugh, he was always so professional, and severely up tight.

"no need to call me by my last name, please, call me Y/N! and yea, i guess i have.. would you like to be my friend too?"

"sure, Y/N." and with that, he turned back around, smiling at the small yet sweet interaction he had with you. of course while doing so, he got many glares from the rest of the class, clearly jealous he got to talk to you even if it was for a short while.

you of course have no idea about the secret war between your class, they'd all go at eachothers heads just to get your attention, or better, to make you smile. atleast you've successfully gained 19 new obsessed friends?

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

okay i think this was shit but lmk!! hope you liked it :)

[tilthedayidice]

Hey welcome back to my BG3 Hot Takes

While I have your attention, here's a cool site to help Palestine, all you gotta do is click it daily.

This session was inspired by @lipsie, gettin me ttalkin way too much. Yes I am aware that the tadpole changes things, and they have to make it balanced for the game blah blah blah- let a bitch complain.

Screenshots sourced from the Baldur's Gate 3 Wiki

Gale is the only character I feel is spec'd correctly, He's smart but fiuckin stupid, he has autism rizz, mam could not lift any box you asked him to, the only reason his constitution is 13 is because he's been dealing with the Orb and he's used to it by now.

Karlach should start with 20 strength and you CANNOT convince me otherwise, her charisma should be higher also, she's a ball of sunshine and could put the fear of god into anyone, and the line "Gods I wanna ride you til you see stars" will never leave my brain. Give this bitch a 15. She do be a little dumb I'll give you that.

Shadowheart is just funny to me, How can her wisdom be a 17 when she's been cloistered away for so long? Her wisdom is only a 17 in ONE SPECIFIC SUBJECT, a subject where she's forced to give up her memories. Memories are where we get our wisdom. Wisdom is gained through lived experiences, I'd give you the 17 for endgame Shart, but not start of game Shart. I'll take the 8 CHA cause she's a bitch (said with love, me too babe) but she knows enough to get what and where she wants so I think we should nudge it up to like 10.

Lae'zel.... I think it's unfair to put Lae'zel's intelligence at 10. Her wisdom being low, yeah i get that she's been cloistered away in a society that believes its the only way, it's all she knows. But intelligence? No. She might know much about Faeruns culture and people, but she knows EVERYTHING about the stars. And there's far more of that than there will ever be of Faerun. She's the funniest person we know, give her 9 CHA.

Wyll my beloved, do you airbrush those abs on? Do you wake up every morning and contour them? I DON'T BELIEVE YOU DO!!!!!!!!! SO WHO'S THE ASS WHO DECIDED YOUR STRENGHT WAS A FUCKIN 8??????? THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST A 13. He deserve a 15 but I know they won't give it to him. Lipsie and I were talking about him and they're right, WHEN WE DUMP THE BITCH HE SHOULD RESPEC INTO BARD.

Astarion..... oh Astarion.... you're such a disaster. Such a wet cat of a man. Such a pathetic little mew mew. I shit on him a lot, but I do really love his character and development lol. LESS STR MAKE HIM WEAK, he has been starved and living off rats and shame, he can have his measly 8 AFTER he drinks... uh "Thinking" Blood. His CHA being 10 is perfect actually no notes. I personally think his actual INT should be lower, not too much lower, maybe 11/12, I knooooow he was a magistrate, but you can't tell me he's not giving himbo... no what was that word on the meme graph? Himbim? Himbim.

Halsin.......... 10 STR? 10?!?!?!?! You built him LIKE THAT and give him 10 STR?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!? What in the nine hells...... Weaker than Karlach of course, but 10????? Give that man 15 at least 8 INT???????????? 8???????? LARIAN WHY DO YOU HATE HIM???? Is it because he isn't Gale? Mans has been studying the mindflayers on his own, he's been studying the shadow curse... on his own. HE'S A MASTER HEALER?!?!?! AN ARCHDRUID?!?!?!?!?!?!? That takes time, study, and dedication. You wanna assign him himbo so bad. He's just a whole well rounded man with autism,. (Not a dig on himbos, quite literally my favorite genre of Man). This is just 'cause he fucks isn't it.

Minthara she's so much smarter than Larian gives her credit for. While I agree with the WIS, that's more a product of being so closed off, Her INT is much higher. I'd give her a 14? She cunning, just because it's used for Evil deeds doesn't mean she hasn't been she hasn't put a lot of thought into her work. She lived in Menzoberranzan for Gods' sake. She had to be smart or be killed?!? She's said so on multiple occasions! Just because she's Evil aligned doesn't mean she not smart. (She's just as smart as our average Bear according to Larian)

Minsc...... First off let me say that I love that they chose this image. A Bad Bitch. Anyways, anyone who doesn't find that dumb happy face charming is either lying or literally has a stick up their ass.... 12 CHA. Also why is he so weak? I know he isn't like actually weak... but mans chunked that mimic? Let him have 14.

Jaheira I'll give you the 10 STR, she's complained about her knees like three times in my most recent session. 8 INT? So what I'm getting here.... is anyone not an origin character is just baseline 8? Lazy. Especially considering she was ALREADY GIVEN STATS IN TWO PREVIOUS GAMES. In both BG1 and BG2 she has an intelligence of 10, and if anything she's only gotten smarter over time. I wasn't gonna do this... but left is 1 right is 2.

15, 14, 17, 10, 14, 15, and 15, 17, 17, 10, 14, 15

Make it make sense. I know she's old at this point, but in my game she killed Sarevok again so idk man.

Rip me apart in the notes ;)

But do it nicely...

[quitealotofsodapop]

Pigsy be cleaning up shop (with Tang being forced to help) when he hears a whispered conversation. He doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but Wu and Mihou aren't exactly subtle.

"Do you think Gramps would have liked to meet them?" Wu was saying, to which Mihour snorted,

"You mean before or after he smacked us both over the head for our stupidity? Yeah... he'd have liked them. 'Specially since the egg was yours."

"Mihou, you're the one incubating the egg! If anything, they're more yours than mine."

"Yeah, but you were his favorite. His 'Little Prince,' remember? I was just the weird cub he found by the river."

"You and I both know that isn't... entirely true. He loved you just as much as me the short time we had living on the mountain together while we were cubs before your sister picked you up."

"Wuko-"

"Wu."

"Right, Wu, you seriously underestimate how much he loved you. You were his whole reason for living at the end there."

"He was just... he just looked after me as a favor. For the ones who came Before. That's all."

"Your oh so secret birthparent that you refuse to tell me about but insists existed despite literally everything about your origin story?"

"I don't 'refuse to tell you,' I just... don't know how to explain it. Explain Her! I only found out about her after Gramps died, and by the time we met up again, we both were way too busy to remember old stories from a long dead monkey I've never even met."

"...Well, we aren't as busy as we were before. Maybe you can tell me now? We could tell the cub stories about his grandmother when they get here."

"...I'd like that."

:'(

Anon this is so cute and sad I tear up a bit.

The idea of Pigsy and Tang accidentally learning that part of "Wu and Mihou's" worries comes from both of them being essentially orphans gets them in the feels.

I hc that Pigsy lost his mom at a young age (got taken in by his Grandma), and Tang has no contact with his brith family, so they both sympathise hard with the two monkeys' situation.

Wukong wanting to Understand who his people and his mother were, but the chaos of Heaven and of all his new responsibilities keep getting in the way... until the incident with the Comet allows him for the first time ever to slow down and contemplate.

Macaque giving up on his search for answers on what he was centuries ago, and thinking that he's just One in the whole universe. Until Wukong begins recalling stories that Elder told him of other monkeys like them beyond the stars - ones with "Lotus-shaped ears" that used them to hear across the vacuum of space...

And they both agree that the Egg is a miracle no matter how they look at it. Even if the comet it arrived in was likely one of their own kind who had not been so lucky. Macaque wonders if the baby's original parent had been "Lotus-eared" like he is...

[devildogdemon]

Bracing myself for committing potential Everlark sacrilege here. Still, I’m curious: Does anyone else ever dabble in the What If/headcanon that Peeta made up his original crush on Katniss? That in the beginning, it really was all just part of his and Haymitch's plan to hype Katniss up, and help boost her favor as the super rare chance for a District 12 Victor? But in the course of the first games, and particularly while committing to the star-crossed lovers act in the cave, he ended up actually falling in love with her?

This was actually my original interpretation the first time I read the first book. That all the rest of the backstory is still true: Mr. Mellark pointing Katniss out, Katniss singing the Valley song, etc. But it was just how Peeta remembered her, not the beginning of years-long pining.

Quick disclaimer: I'm not trying to argue for this headcanon's legitimacy. In fact, I now know it's not true. While writing this post, I remembered that Peeta told Katniss during the Victory Tour he was jealous of Gale before he officially met her. So by his own words, Peeta's crush predates the first Hunger Games.

Still, reading the first book on its own, it’s a headcanon I always come back to, and I think works in its own way sometimes.

For one thing, it’s a bit beyond my suspension of disbelief that Peeta was reaped alongside the girl he was silently obsessed with for 11 years. It feels way more like convenience to me than destiny or anything like that. Not to mention, this is supposedly a crush that began and persisted long before Peeta hit puberty.

But it’s not just the realistic aspect that draws me to this hc. It's also because I love how much it contributes to the 'accidental soulmates' aspect on Everlark. The idea that these two were not meant to fall in love. That if their lives went the way they thought or planned, they never would have spoken. They would have rarely crossed paths, if at all. They would have married different people, if anyone when it came to Katniss, but Gale would be the sole candidate if she did. And they would have lived out their days and died as strangers. But through a series of completely unforeseen, bizarre circumstances in this cruel world that brought them together in the most horrific of ways, from it emerged a real bond between them. Even if it started as a charade for sponsors, it morphed into a real bond of love and care that was genuine, and beautiful, and selfless, and real.

My take is essentially that Peeta took his mother's final words to him about Katniss as bitingly true, not that that made them any less hurtful. And from that point forward, he figured if he was going to do something worthwhile before his inescapable death, it would be to help his District. And the way to do that would be to help the girl who could do that better than he ever could.

Sure, there are things like him keeping hold on Katniss' hand during the chariot ride, and teasingly prodding her for a kiss while she's treating him. But...ok, I hesitate to project onto a boy who was and is leagues above me in every way (feel free to flame me for this). But as a former 16-year old boy myself, who was roughly that age when first reading the story, I kinda figured he just wanted to experience a taste of romance before his inevitable death? Like the PG version of "I don't want to die a virgin."

Anywho, gonna whistle past that embarassing hot take lol. But I think this hc gels well too with all his actions Katniss finds questionable: telling her everyone was watching her during the chariot ride, the crush revelation, teaming up with the careers to throw them off her trail, and fighting Cato. He's doing it all for her to win, even at the expense of himself. Not because he has feelings for her (yet), but because he believes in her.

But it's at the point when Katniss finds him in the mud bank, and she does everything in her power from then on to keep him alive, that maybe his feelings for her take a turn for the real. She shouldn't be trying to keep him alive. It’s of no benefit to her whatsoever. But she refuses to let him die. She will not even discuss it. It makes zero sense to him. No one's ever valued his life this much, even his own family. Why is this girl he barely knows, who never noticed him before, suddenly sparing no expense to keep him alive? To the point of risking her own life for him?

This comes to a head when he tries to rebuke her for going to the feast:

"No! Just don't, Katniss! Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right? "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who...who worries about..what it would be like if..." "If what, Katniss?" "That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of." "Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself."

On that last line, I took that as Peeta seeing for the first time that Katniss actually does care about him. More than anyone ever has. That she wants him to live, just as much as she wants them to win. And that's when he truly falls for her. Sadly, he makes the mistake of presuming she feels the same way. That's the only blank he filled in incorrectly.

But did he, though? Because what follows that last line is the first kiss between them that makes Katniss feel "stirring in her chest" and "wanting another." This whole conversation made her want to shut the world out, because "whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine."

So maybe their feelings for each other kinda awoke at the same time? And deep, deep down, the two of them could sense that shift in emotion toward each other. Where performance became reality. For Peeta, much stronger. But for Katniss, she's not quite there yet.

Now yes, I'm aware Katniss gets Peeta to tell the story of his crush AFTER this happens. But as Katniss points out prior to this, he's the silver-tongued one. Not to mention an established good liar. So keeping with the idea this was when he first noticed her, maybe he blends the facts here a little, and decides to make this the point of where his crush began? He probably had it in the vault anyway since the interview.

Finally, I thought this better explained Peeta's anger at the end, when the mask is finally lifted for him. Because logically, why would he think what started as an established act would become real for Katniss? As Katniss says, they were strangers who'd never spoken before all this. Is it because he still thinks she can't lie? Well she proved him wrong there, if only for a moment. I thought the more likely reason he thought Katniss' feelings for him became real, is because that's exactly what happened to him. As I mentioned before, his presumption wasn't entirely off, and Katniss' words that "not all of it" was for the Games are true enough. But it doesn't make the revelation any less crushing for him.

I really do wonder sometimes what kind of story this would have made for if Suzanne took this approach in the sequels. I know now it's an incorrect headcanon, but I'm curious if anyone else ever shared it while reading the first book, and wonders the same.

If you read all my silly ramblings about a now-debunked headcanon, I am both eternally grateful and eternally sorry. Feel free to share, concur, roast, or do whatever in response. Thank you and may this ship be ever on your dashboard :)

[g1deonthefirst]

☕️ well now that youve mentioned I would love to hear you talk about Cam&Pal and their relationship with BoE !

ok so basically i think that a lot of the fandom assumes that cam and pal are like our moral north star in ntn or whatever but i think that they are much less radical than the fandom assumes, both with respect to lyctorhood and with respect to their alliance with boe. they're allied with boe because they don't really have anyone else to ally with, not because they're all that invested in boe's cause. they're clearly invested far more in the fate of their own house than anything else, and it's not until the end of the book that i think you see them both begin to reckon with what the houses have done — for instance, palamedes asking aim about what happened on lemuria. in general, i think the way that cam and pal talk to and about the people outside the imperial core is fairly condescending and evinces a lack of understanding of what the nine houses have done to non-housers that i wish the fandom would recognize more often. obviously they just don't know what they don't know, but i don't think it's clear that paul is going to be "a good guy" in atn, and i think all the praise for campal convincing the sixth to move and rebelling is overstated; after all, they say themselves that they did it because cassiopeia left instructions to, not because of "moral philosophy."

[brucewaynehater101]

One idea I've been tinkering around for a few years. I'd love your thoughts. It's very similar to your Tim Rules the Universe idea....

It's a 'royalty au' where Tim was born the prince but had to leave the planet due to an evil uncle (who wants to be king) at three.

Evil uncle killed Tim's original parents, and the Drakes had the unfortunate task of raising a child. They were special operatives for royalty. They had never considered having children, but now it was their job.

(They weren't very good at it. After all, they had no concept of how much attention/care children needed).

Flash forword a few years, and Tim is exhausted and working his butt off for Bruce. He's proven the man is alive, saved him from time... all the good stuff.

Someone knocks at the Wayne Manor door.

It's the previous kings butler (servant, whatever). The people are asking for Tim back. The uncle sucks and Tim is eighteen. He can rule.

Tim is annoyed that his family now knows. He didn't want them to treat him differently.

(But he says yes and comes to the planet. He hadn't been there since he was three after all.)

The planet has had civil wars after civil war over the rightful king. It's in ruins (except the royal castles and a few spots)

Tim has his work cut out for him to get these people to like each other and him. The batfamily is WORRIED about him.

Jason insists on being Tim’s bodyguard. Tim shrugs. Why not? He wears his red helmet and loves it when the lesser royals (dukes, duchesses) make a fuss about not seeing his face. The previous leader of the royal guard doesn't understand why his king replaced him before even meeting him, but tries to accept Jason as his boss. Eventually, the other royal guards assume red is their kings favorite color and add red bits to their uniforms where they can. (Jason loves it!)

Anyway, the concept is Tim in this new world with alien politics (but I'm not sure what all they should be... Maybe he doesn't want to marry his betrothed. Stuff like that.) But I want it to be funny.

Would love to hear your thoughts!

This is a fantastic AU idea ^^

One thing to note that would be absolutely hilarious to go into: Tim's "fake" uncle.

Tim, because he thinks it's funny, put the evil uncle's name as his "fake" uncle. He then hired an actor to play a waaaay better version of him. That way, he would be lying about who his uncle is, not that he has one. The funny conundrum about this is, when Bruce discovers that the uncle is an actor, there are no records of Tim's actual uncle. This leads Bruce to the conclusion that Tim made up the entire uncle.

Fast forward several years later when the Bats find out. I bet Bruce is bashing his head in at the fact that the uncle WAS real. Tim didn't lie about that.

That's the tricky part about Tim. You don't know when he's telling the truth or not because he hides it under several layers and within itself.

The way you talked about the Drakes and Tim leads me to believe that all of them are an alien species. If you'd like to get more into that (what makes them different from humans, what is their culture like, do they speak a different language, etc.), I would be thrilled to learn more.

If the Drakes are human, them having an alien baby thrown at them as they are kicked off planet excuses why they maybe didn't know how to raise Tim.

If they are aliens, did they know English before they got to earth? The culture shock (and maybe different requirements/guidelines for human parenting) could have just confused the hell out of them.

I hope Tim, even from the distant Drakes, was raised in his native culture (or at least got some connections to it throughout his childhood). There's definitely some angst that can be explored there (including references to the stars).

If Jason went with Tim, I bet some of the Outlaws did as well. Kori would probably give Tim great advice on being alien royalty (and all that mess).

Hmm... perhaps the Drakes became rich and integrated into Gotham high society to do a weird form of prince training? They obviously didn't have the resources available that they should have had, so they made do.

Perhaps part of the reason the Drakes were archeologists was to grab the things previous alien ancestors left behind when they visited Earth. It's a way they can bring Tim a piece of his home world.

Questions: If Tim left at three, he might not remember that he's a prince. Do the Drakes keep reminding him (maybe some angst about the emotional separation due to them technically serving him [which can be a Bruce and Tim parallel])? Does Tim remember his bio parents? Does he consider Jack/Janet to be his parents, or does he consider himself an orphan until Bruce adopts him?

Now, for court humor: Customs, traditions, rituals, and customer service.

Tim is trying to put a planet back together and his advisors/council spring random ass rules on him.

A/C: "Overlord, sir!"

Tim: *sighs and puts his head in his hands* "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

A/C: "My apologies, overlord, sir."

Tim: *deeper sigh* "Just continue."

A/C: "You can't send those supplies out."

Tim: "... The supplies that will save people from starving to death?"

A/C: "Yes, overlord, sir."

Tim: "And why not?"

A/C: "Grain and seeds must be sent separately and three weeks apart! You must also dance before their departure!"

Tim: "... what the fuck?"

Stuff like that where Tim or Jason (or other Bats if they are there) get informed about strange restrictions. Tim can't change too many rules (no matter how weird they are) cause he wasn't even raised on planet. This is a reason some folks don't want him to rule them (and thus his position is unstable).

More humor could come from Tim listening to his subjects and their problems. The more ridiculous it is, the better.

Little hc you may or may not want to add: I think Damian would spend the most time going over different customs/rules/histories of the planet out of the other Bats.

[eros-ghoulette]

Anyone wants to listen to 'Bible' with me while watching the stars and talking about ghost????

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok Voice: You are her official right hand while I have been making detailed psychological observations about her for the past four years - we are not the same.

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