#anyway whew I am tired

[inverse-problem]

ooooo so much cool ultragift art to look at I have had a busy day though so I may not get around to it for a while zzzzz

[gothsuguru]

once i get back into the groove of things i’m gonna pick up some hobbies 🙏🏼

[starryeyesmasc]

me when it’s the week before my period:

[inkykeiji]

my boyfriend got some new aftershave that smells like sandalwood so he’s basically bmb tomura now~

[sortarapunzel]

absolutely incorrigible behavior in this house tonight <- watching the voltron german dub and enjoying it

[indigodawns]

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[palms-upturned]

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[formula-nyoom]

Be Proud of Yourself | GR63

Pairing: Platonic!George Russell x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: @cinnvmonrolls @scenesofobx and @annabellelee wanted a sequel to I'm Proud of You where reader finally outqualifies George and wins a race.

A/N: Works picking back up for me so fics may take some time for them to come out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Good job (Y/N)! We’ve made it to Q3.”

 “Whew! Didn’t think I’d make it with that last lap. Glad to hear I did.” You said to your race engineer as you pulled into the pitlane. Engineers surrounded your car as they pulled it into the garage and placed a screen in front of you to go over data. To your right, you saw them do the same with George’s car. The two of you made eye contact and you gave George a thumbs up. He put his own thumb up, signaling to you that he also made it through to Q3. You only nodded your head.

While you were happy for the team that both Mercedes made it into Q3, a familiar, small pit started to form in your stomach. While most drivers that end up in Q3 shoot for pole, you didn’t care what position you ended up in, only as long as it was in front of George. It wasn’t a malicious goal. You just wanted to outqualify your teammate once and hopefully that would lead to people no longer ragging on you for all the times you placed behind George. But being honest with yourself, you knew they wouldn’t really stop. It would probably just make you feel better and hopefully give you a confidence boost going into the race on Sunday. 

The greenlight was given for Q3 to start and you and George were sent out for qualifying. Despite getting impeded on one of your qualifying laps, by the end of the session you felt like you had good pace to make the top 5. Nowhere near pole, but you felt you had good pace as you crossed the finish line at the end of qualifying.

“Alright, tell me where I am.” You said to your race engineer as you did your cool down lap before pulling into parc ferme.

 “You are P3.” Your race engineer told you. P3. That’s the highest you’ve ever qualified this season.

“Wow! I’m proud of that. And George is P2?”

 “No. George is P6.” Your race engineer said. You paused, your brain not really processing what was just said to you.

“What?”

 “You are P3. George is P6.”

“I outqualifed George?” The shock in your voice was evident. Realistically you should have tried to hide it, but you didn’t care. You had finally out-qualified your teammate

 “That you did. Good job (Y/N).”

For the first time, instead of parking your car in the regular parc ferme lane, you rolled your car till it stopped in front of the P3 placard, right next to Max’s car that was parked in the P1 spot. You took your time to get out of the car before running over to greet your team at the barriers. They gave you high fives and pats to the shoulder. While it wasn’t pole, P3 was still something to celebrate. 

 “Glad to see you up here, rookie!” Max said, giving your shoulder a pat. 

“Didn’t expect to be up here. It’s going to be difficult tomorrow for me to try and overtake you.” You told him. Max laughed.

 “Well I definitely won’t make it easy.” He said.

After post qualifying interviews, George was there to meet you as the two of you headed back to the Mercedes garage for debrief.

“Good job mate! Second row!” George said as he patted your shoulder “Wish I could have made it a Mercedes lock out.”

 “I expected you to end up on the front row. What happened?”

“My tires locked up on the second to last turn. Cost me what could have been pole.” George said. 

The adrenaline from qualifying had started to wear off and realization set in on where you placed. P3. 2 spots away from pole. 2 spots away from 1st place.

Your smile dropped and you turned to George.

“What am I supposed to do tomorrow George?” You asked him. “The team is going to expect me to try and win the race. I don’t know if I can do that.”

 “What makes you think that?” George asked.

“Because that’s what everyone else thinks.” You said as doubt started to creep in. You could practically see the media comments that would be online by the end of the night: predictions that George will overtake you by the end of the first lap, or you’ll bin it in the first turn, ruining Mercedes chances of a race win. 

 “Not everyone thinks that. The team doesn’t think that and neither do I.” George said, trying to make you feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Really? Because I haven’t been able to out pace you at all this whole season! I’ve always qualified and placed behind you at every race, including the sprints. The only reason I was able to outqualify you today was because of an issue with your car. If your tires didn’t lock up, you would have outqualified me again and continue to prove to everyone that Mercedes made a mistake with signing me!” You exclaimed. While you didn’t seem to be crying from your exclamation, your face had turned red and you were breathing heavily. George could tell that this was something you had been keeping to yourself for a long time.

 “Hey, look at me.” George lightly cupped your face so that you would make eye contact with him. 

 “Mercedes did not make a mistake in signing you. You deserve to be here. Who cares if you’ve finished behind me? You’ve consistently scored points for Mercedes for a majority of the season and did so as a rookie. You’ve done better than most rookies when they first join Formula 1. Better than I did my rookie season.” George told you.

 “But the media-”

“Screw the media. They say shit like that all the time just to stir up drama. They only go off of what they’re seeing. If they knew how much you’ve been matching me in pace during our sim runs and during practice sessions, they wouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” George told you. He pulled you into a side hug and started to walk both of you to the Mercedes garage.

“Look, we both know that teammates are supposed to be each other’s biggest rivals, and I completely understand your want to outqualify and out place me at every race. But I don’t want that to cause you to doubt yourself and I’d hate to be the reason that causes you so much distress.” He said. You sighed.

 “It’s not you. It’s the expectations.”

“Put the expectations aside for now. Trust me, it won’t do you any good. You’ll beat me at some point, through your own merit and pace. I know you will.” George said. 

And that made you feel a bit better. 

~~~

The morning of the race, you were wrought with nerves. After the team debrief last night, it was emphasized that you had a good chance of winning the race if everything went well. The expectations were hard to shake. Even with how much you tried to push them to the side like George had advised.

George and you arrived at the track at the same time. While walking to Mercedes’ hospitality, George was giving you all the best advice he could think of for your starting position. 

“Max and Lando will be too focused on trying to get ahead of each other in the first turn. That will open the outside up for you to try and swoop in and take the lead. That’s how I was able to do it when I started P3 with them in P1 and P2.”

 “But what if one of them tries to go to the outside to overtake the other?” You asked.

“Then you wait and bide your time. If you can’t overtake them on the first lap, you’ll have a chance of overtaking them later. But be careful if you have to go 1-to-1 against Lando. We don’t want a repeat of Austria.” “Well maybe a repeat of Austria is what we need for me to get my first win.”

The Drivers Parade was always the calm before the storm. You always enjoyed staring out into the crowd and waving to fans. Usually you’d stand next to Logan or George during the parade and you and Logan would always make a game out of who could spot the most of your guys' drivers numbers in the crowd. But today your game was interrupted by you having to be one of the drivers interviewed during the parade.

“So (Y/N), you’re starting in P3 today. Do you think you have a chance at a win today?” The interviewer asked. 

 “I really hope so. Me and the team have been going over all the possible strategies that could guarantee me a win but there’s also the matter of getting up to P1. George and I joked earlier that a repeat of Austria would be ideal but I think I have a good chance at fighting for a win today.” You said. The interviewer smiled.

 “Now I’m sure you’re aware of this, but if you win today, you’ll be the first woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix. How do you feel about that?”

 Oh. The expectations just became bigger.

Despite the nerves, you were able to muster a smile to answer the question.

“It would be a historic thing and something that I’ve been striving to do throughout this whole season. I know it won’t be an easy thing to achieve but if I can pull it off, it would make this race even better.”

You were thankful that your Mercedes PR training allowed you to answer the question in good faith. Because until then, you had been so focused on the possibility of a win that you hadn’t realized until now what that win could mean. And now you felt even more pressure.

You weren’t even starting on pole and yet you were nervous beyond belief. Sure it was because of a multitude of reasons: You were starting in front of George for the first time, you were in a position to give Mercedes a win, and if you did win, you’d be making history. 

It would be stupid for anyone to tell you that there was “no pressure”, to you there was so much pressure. And it would be even worse if you made a mistake that would cost you and Mercedes the race. The media would have a field day. 

George could sense that you were spiraling again as he watched you struggle to put your gloves on. He walked over and held out his hand for you to hand them to him, which you did and you let George help you with your gloves.

“You’re going to do great.” George told you once your gloves were on. 

 You could only give him a nod. 

You pulled your car into the P3 spot behind Max’s RedBull and nervously waited for the lights to go out. Taking your breath, you tried to center yourself.

 ‘You’re going to do great. Put the expectations aside for now. You. Can. Win. This.’

It was better for you to focus on the now. Worrying about the outcome would affect your race. 

*Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink*

Foot to the floor, you slammed on the throttle and immediately went for the outside line. But going to the outside didn’t work like George had said it would. Max and Lando were indeed trying to get past each other, like George had said, but Max needed to pull away from Lando because they were getting too close to each other, which caused you to get pushed off the track. Not enough to cause damage, but you rejoined the track in P8.

 “Max pushed me off the track!” You exclaimed to your race engineer, clearly not happy about losing your P3 position. Oh yea. And you were 2 spots behind George now.

 “It’s been noted. Keep a cool head. It’s only the first lap, we can still win this race.” Your race engineer said. You let out a frustrated huff and tried to focus on getting back into the top 3. 

Building up speed you were able to overtake and get into P7, but that put you right behind George. In the team briefing before the race, it was said that you were the priority with your P3 placement, but that was before the start of the race. Now you were worried that since George was ahead of you, he would be the priority.

“Are me and George allowed to fight?” You asked your engineer, hoping they would say yes. 

 “You and George seem to be matching pace so you are allowed to fight as long as you keep it clean.”

“Got it.” You said, a smile creeping on your face. 

You quickly increased your speed, getting into George’s DRS zone. You were determined to get past your teammate. You weren’t going to end this race behind George again.

0.500s, 0.400s, 0.300s. You were gaining on George, just waiting for the right moment for an overtake. But he wasn’t making it easy for you. No, George was defending, making you work for this overtake, making you prove that you can get past him. 

 “The two Mercedes are very close to one another! They have been given permission to fight! (L/N) has consistently been outplaced by Russel throughout this season, but she seems determined to get by her teammate! Down the straight they go, (L/N) has DRS! She dives to the inside and GETS PAST RUSSEL IN TURN 8! (Y/N) (L/N) TAKES 6TH PLACE FROM HER TEAMMATE!”

You didn’t hesitate from pulling away from George as soon as you got past him. You let out a little exclamation of celebration to yourself for getting past but there were still more overtakes to do. Through pitstops of other drivers, you were able to move up to P4 and eventually found yourself within DRS range of Lando, who had dropped to P3. You were gaining momentum and just as you were preparing to go into Sector 1 to attempt the overtake, Lando was called into the pitlane, moving you up to P2. 

“Gap to Verstappen?” You asked as you tried to keep your momentum.

 “Verstappen is 5 seconds ahead. There are 20 laps left so let’s try to catch up to him.” Your engineer said to you. 

You seemed to be one with the car and speed was something you found quickly as you caught up to Max with just 10 laps to go. Now was the hard part: overtaking him. 

Max was a very defensive driver. Everytime you tried to make an attempt at overtaking, Max would try to halt your attempt. You were trying to play it safe for three laps but the end of the race was getting closer and you needed to overtake now in order to win the race. 

The two of you were going into turn 6 side by side. Like repeating the start, you had chosen the outside line. But you weren’t going to let him push you off the track, as you pulled ahead and managed to overtake him. But the two of you had just turned into the strait of sector 2, with Max still close enough to have DRS. He went for the outside line, but you knew he was trying to fake you out. You stayed on the inside and ahead enough so that Max couldn’t overtake you going into turn 9. 

 “Start pulling away. 6 laps to go.” Your engineer said to you. 

“I know! I’m trying! This guy doesn’t want to let go of first place!” Your frustration from the beginning of the race had come back. Max was still riding your rear wing and you just wanted him to stop. You were so close to a race win you just needed to hold off Max for 6 more laps. 

6 laps became 5. Then 4. By the time it became lap 3 you had started to be able to pull away and by the 2nd to last lap, Max had fallen out of your DRS zone.

 ‘Holy shit, I could win this’ You thought. By the time you saw the white flag waving, it was starting to become real.

 “Last lap, last lap. You can bring it home.” Your race engineer said and this time you believed him. 

You were going to win this race.

“Many had doubted Mercedes when they announced they had signed an F2 rookie to be the one to replace Sir Lewis Hamilton. And while she hadn’t been able to beat her teammate throughout this season, (Y/N) (L/N) has proven that those doubts should be put to rest. She outqualifed her teammate for the first time yesterday! Today she not only outplaces him, but she also makes history as the first woman to win a Formula One race! (Y/N) (L/N) wins the Monza Grand Prix!”

As the checkered flag rose, you saw people from the Mercedes team climb the fence and wave their fists in celebration as you drove past them and crossed the finish line. 

 “That’s the checkered flag! P1 (Y/N)! You did it!”

“YEEEEESSSS! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO HARD! WOOOOO!” A smile spread across your face as you waved to the crowd while on your cool down lap. Part of you couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations (Y/N). I know expectations for you were high at the start and I’m happy that you were able to deliver on them. You’re making everyone at Mercedes proud.” Toto’s voice now came over your radio and the praise made you smile even more.

 “Thank you Toto. I know a lot of people doubted your decision about signing me. Hopefully I’ve proven them wrong.”

 “You did kid. You did.”

Pulling into parc ferme, you didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and climb up onto the nose. You raised your fists in the air in celebration before swinging one up towards the sky as people cheered. You let yourself just stare out at the cheering ground and soaked up all the excitement before leaping off the nose of your car.

Your feet stay on the ground for a second before you’re getting scooped up into someone’s arms. They’re hugging you tight while spinning you around. You panic for a second at the unknown person holding you, but then you see the familiar blue helmet of George and relax, hugging him back.

 “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You deserve this so much.” George says. He sounds like he’s crying. As he sets you down, you can see his visor is up and there are visible tears on his face.

 “I’m supposed to be the one crying George.” You said, your voice wavering as tears started to well up in your eyes. 

“We can both be crying because the fact is that you have proved everyone wrong. (Y/N) (L/N), you have just won your first race!” George exclaims as he pulls you in for another hug and you can’t help but start crying tears of joy.

Together the two of you walked over to the Mercedes team at the barrier, who welcomed you with open arms and helmet pats. You hugged your race engineer as soon as you saw them, thanking them for helping throughout the race. 

You were given many congratulations by both the team and those you walked past as you made your way to the cool down room. Your fellow drivers gave you hugs or pats on the shoulder as you passed, all of them very happy at your first win.

"I told you you would be up there one day!" Oscar said as you walked past him. Both him and Logan gave you a hug while congratulating you and your smile just kept getting bigger.

“You did not make it easy.” Was the first thing you said to Max when you entered the cool down room. Max let out a laugh as he sat in the P2 chair while you put down your helmet and swapped it for the P1 hat.

 “I told you I wouldn’t.” Max said. You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking a seat next to him. Lewis walked in shortly after, taking his seat in the P3 chair. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a side hug.

“Congrats. You’re picking up where I left off, kid.” He said.

 “I’m coming for your spot as Mercedes' golden child.” You told him. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

Stepping on to the top step of the podium felt like a surreal moment. Graciously accepting the first place trophy, the cheers almost sounded deafening as you hoisted it high above you and when your national anthem came, you smiled and mouthed the words with a smile on your face. And when the time finally came to pop the champagne bottle, you didn’t hesitate in spraying the two world champions while letting yourself get drenched as well. Who knows when you’ll be back up here, but you were here today. As you let yourself get sprayed with champagne, you soaked up the moment, feeling both the adrenaline and pure happiness as you met the eyes of smiling faces from your team down below, including George. As you stood on the top step, you could say with certainty that you were proud of yourself.

[bomberqueen17]

currently in the Fens

I am actually literally in a Fen right this moment apparently. I can actually hear the river Cam, which is doing something and I can't tell what behind a tree, there's a noise so it's either falling over something or being partly penned-up by something or-- like a dam or a waterfall idk. it's really flat here, like that's the salient feature of this geographic area i think, and the river is in like five channels kind of meandering around and of course this place being heavily human-inhabited for the last thousand years at least, but more like five thousand, many of these channels have been tamed, straightened or redirected or whatnot. but anyway some portion of the river Cam is outside my hotel rn.

There's also cows on it, which is kind of wild. There's a cattle guard at the park entrance so obviously those cattle are authorized to be there.

Anyway I am going to see several friends, some Internet and some Real Life, this week and am going to look at some museums and some architecture in Cambridge, and Flag Fen Archaeology Park and the cathedral at Ely and such.

Yesterday getting here was slightly an adventure because we'd researched and knew that by flying into Gatwick we could just directly get onto the Thameslink train and go right to Cambridge and so we bought our tickets and went and looked at the board to ask how to get to Cambridge and it said under Cambridge "please enquire" and oh they had shut down that whole branch of track because of some kind of fire so we Could Not Get There From Here ah shit! So we had to instead go to St Pancras and then nebulously to King's Cross which... I was not clear on the mechanism of whether those were the same thing or not but once we were there it was obvious that they are adjoining, that is the life hack solution etcetera, and then we had to get onto the Ely train to get to Cambridge (I had been pronouncing Eeeeleee right hurrah). But we managed, and it was not that difficult after all, and we could even just still use our same Thameslink ticket and that was great and all but like. Whew ok.

The solution to jet lag is just to be real tired; I slept like ten hours last night. I'm not exactly myself today but I am myself enough to go look at a whole museum in extreme detail. I suspect this museum is aimed at children but that has never stopped or deterred me in any way.

We are staying in a hotel that is university-themed, like why not. There is a giant model of DNA hanging in the lobby and the walls are covered in punts for some reason, and the desk staff are wearing tweed uniform jackets. (I am not surprised by the DNA thing because its discovery was announced hereish in the Eagle Pub ) It's cute. It's weird. It just got acquired by Hilton so who knows how weird it will remain. There's a balcony, which I thought was hilarious given my knowledge of the British climate, but actually it was ravishingly gorgeous yesterday (lightly breezy, meltingly sunny, a warm room temperature) and it is going to remain partly cloudy but warm for most of the week so actually the balcony was a really good call. (The room below, which has the footprint of the balcony as indoor space, was the same price, and Dude dithered a bit but went for fresh air.)

I have updated my bird packs in my Merlin app so i can try to find out what the various birds are (i mean I figured out the swan on my own) but I do not have a good app for plants and my burner French sim won't let me send photos so i am struggling with just not knowing what anything is. I had not realized how much of my psychic landscape is taken up by knowing the names of the plants around me, and everything here is familiar but Not The Thing and it's mildly distressing. There's no goldenrod but there are these exuberant things with pale purple spike flowers, seven feet tall, sprawling in every hedgerow. And there are willow trees along the river bank but this thing is like a huge mutant Japanese maple the size of a Norway maple. And those things have canes like bramble bushes but huge. what is anything.

The only plant I can reliably ID is English ivy which is probably not invasive here, I'm just going off a random hunch there tho.

OK the museum opens in a minute so I'm gonna go look at archaeology which is why I'm here, and having done that I will have largely achieved my goals so the rest is gravy.

[pigeonstab]

Okay so not that I’m still thinking about that art or anything but I have to know, does Horror pick the others up like that too? Do Dust and Cross also get scruffed if they’re in the way or being a pest or are they scooped up more gently? Has he tried picking up Nightmare?? :o

Haha, that's interesting!

I don't think Dust wouldn't get scruffed really, being picked up like that could be very panic inducing I feel like, especially since it removes his hood and messes with his scarf. He's not much of a trouble maker anyways. Though, maybe being picked up like from under his arms would be better, he knows he can't get out of Horror's grip (not without hurting him) so he just goes limp. Horror picks him up for being mean to Killer and it's an immediate slump.

Cross I'm not sure. I don't think he'd be scruffed too much just cause it'd be kinda awkward, they don't know each other that well yet for that kinda bond. Also with his need to be perfect, being physically stopped from misbehaving? He is not having a good time, he feels like a failure. I could see it more like... If he's being hard on himself, like cross insisting: "no, I'm fine, I should train two more hours after having already done eight!" And Horror is just like too bad get scruffed bitch. And Cross could get out of Horror's grip, but the hold is kinda comfortable and he is pretty tired and if Horror's picking him up then he should probably listen right? (Haha what a liar, he loves being taken care of and picked up, touch starved ass)

It'd be kinda funny for Horror to pick Nm up, though I feel like it'd just be reflex, like he's gotten Killer away from danger so many times just by grabbing his hood that one day on a mission he grabs Nightmare's cloak hood, Nightmare's stunned and get kinda choked, he looks back at Horror with a look, my god, if looks could make people melt into the ground that would have done it. And maybe like at home? Kinda like for Cross, when Nm's working too hard Horror comes and picks him up, it goes like this "Put me down you insolent fool! Do you know who I am-" And Horror just says he needs to eat. And Nm knows when it's about food there's nothing to try with Horror. He's all petty like "I can walk there myself" Only to be told "yeah but would you have?" *ensue Nm avoiding eye contact* "that's what I thought." And he just keeps him in his hold, and they don't really talk about it.

Whew this has gotten way too long, sorry man you just give me so many ideas 😭.

[peachiemilkytea]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ

pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

Summary: Henry has been talking to your dad about his co-boss a lot lately, enough to invite him over for dinner knowing that he is your boss too. Now you have to deal with a dumb teenage boy you don't like.

Paring: Teen!Michael Afton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of Y/n, third and first person pov, your parents embarrassing you, flirting?? romance??? enemies to friends

W/c: 5K

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

Flipping the pages in between my fingers of a romance story. Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly. It was in my top ten favorites, my first favorite was IT by Stephen King. The one I'm reading now is about two teenagers, Angie Morrow, and Jack Duluth, being a couple and going out together in June for the first time. Their dates would be them getting cokes with friends, riding in Jack's car, going to movies, and taking the boat out. They grew closer than they could ever be together. It gave it a whole new point of view on the world. Rose-tinted glasses.

"Dottie! Come down here!"

Uh oh, am I in trouble? I put my book down on my bedside and walked downstairs. Mom was leaning on the kitchen counter talking to my dad who was smoking a cigarette. My mother hates the smell of cigarettes. Her nose scrunched at the intoxicating smell. I took a seat at the table.

"Whatever happened, Daniel did it!" I accused my little brother without hesitance. Holding my hands together, my shoulders become tense. Dad snickered out smoke holding onto the sink, biting his lip to hold back a big smile. Mom rolled her eyes at the smoke he let out.

"You're not in trouble (Y/n), we're having the Aftons over for dinner." Mom explained, breathy chuckling.

"Henry and I had lunch with him the other day, he's something else. I had to use everything to stop myself from making fun of his accent. Anyway, his family will be here by six twenty so get ready." Dad explained twiddling the cigarette in between his fingers.

"Alright, whew, you scared me! I thought I was gonna be in trouble! Where's Daniel? Does he know?" I asked, looking around.

"Yes, he knows, he walked in on us talking about it. The Aftons have a boy your age. We'll leave Daniel to suffer with the little ones." Mom said getting off of the counter. I let out a "Yes!" pumping my arm up and running upstairs.

Now that I think about it, William never really talks about his family. He'll bring up his daughter Elizabeth but that's really about it. I had to find out that Michael was Will's kid myself, he never talked about him and whenever I try to bring him up Will shuts it down. He's a jerk to me, I swear it's like he hates me! One time when I was working he spilled soda all over my head with a sarcastic 'whoops.' Poor Henry had to give me a towel and wash it out of my hair and face.

While with Henry he'll talk about his kids all the time, I would hear all the stories about Sammy and Charlie. All the cute things they did and all the tantrums. Henry would have a picture of his wife in his pocket, Nancy Emily, they've been high school sweethearts. She's a sweet woman who got me into Seventeenth Summer. I usually hang out in her garden with her taking care of the plants or sunbathing. I cleaned up my room, picked up the clothes on the floor, and fixed my plants, stacking my books into the shelf, tidying up my desk. I think I looked okay. It was presentable enough. Daniel was standing at my door.

"Come on, hurry up! They're at our door." Daniel said repeatedly knocking on my doorway. I rubbed his hair walking past the kid. Downstairs there was William with a gingered-haired woman, his daughter Elizabeth, a smaller boy holding a golden Fredbear plushie, and... Michael? Ohhh that would make sense now, that's why he looks like William. I didn't pay attention when Mom was talking about us. He perked up surprised but then waved at me with a smile.

"This is Daniel and (Y/n), my kids," Mom said putting her hands on her hip. That stance always gave off 'I'm a tired mom.'

"Kids, this is the Aftons. William, Clara, Elizabeth, Evan, and Michael." Mom introduced us, pointing to each one of them.

"Hey boss," I said, looking towards William. He smirked at my remark. I looked over to my dad and saw the gears in his head turning, Mom gave out a silent 'oh.' Clara looked between me and William.

"But you work for Henry?" Dad asked more like a question.

"William is Henry's co-boss, I work for both of them," I said putting my hand on my hip, then going back to the family and flashing them a smile before going up to my room.

I heard Dad and mom talking to William and Clara talking more about work and what's for dinner, telling Daniel to take the little ones. Then They were talking about boring adult stuff, the only thing I found interesting that they were talking about is all the butterflies Clara's been finding and keeping. Maybe the book my dad was reading, The Color Purple. A book about a teenage African American, Cecilie. Raised in rural isolation in Georgia. She resists the self-paralyzing concept forced on her by others. He's the one who introduced the book to me, it was hard to read because of the writing. But that's the fun of it. Like I did with The Great Gatsby, I took notes on it and broke down the language to understand it then burned the chapters into my head of what happened in a modern way.

Grabbing one of my types of vinyl, I always liked the vinyls more than the cassettes, mixtapes, and walkmans. They played it so much better than the others. Putting on Highway To Hell by AC/DC, it was one of my all-time favorites. Nodding to the beat and mouthing the lyrics.

"Good pick! I didn't expect a good girl like you to be into rock." Michael said, leaning against my doorway with a smug look. I looked back at him and rolled my eyes. I took my vinyls out of the packages and wrote what songs they were on the middle-colored part before putting them on my green flowered walls. Michael was staring at my pictures on my bulletin board.

"Did you take these?" He asked, pointing towards them.

"Yeah, I did. It's still-life photography. What? You like them?" I spat out walking to his side. He was looking at a picture with a book that had cursive letters on the pages, a jar of flowers and the other side is a jar of ink, an old pen sitting next to it, and circled glasses on the other side. Maps and drawings of herbs under the book.

"It's not my style but I like it. It's like something really old and adventurous. Like those old guys you see in the history books." Michael read the photo perfectly. He captured it in his way but still expressed what I was trying to get. I was surprised he was being so nice right now.

"I think this one might be more of your style," I said pointing to a different picture above the one he was looking at.

A bluish-whitish tinted photo, concrete stairs with yellow lines at the end going down. The white walls were covered in graffiti, paint, posters, photos, and drawings. There were marker drawings on the walls and messy paint splattered onto the railings. Graffiti symbols and phrases are marked onto the floor. Some vinyl and cassettes were glued to the wall. Boy bands and magazine covers on the wall with famous faces and logos. The pen drawings on the side made planets and black stars. Drawings made by people saying "runaway" or lists of things or missing pet beetles people found off of the street. A large rectangular mirror on the left side reflects the turn to further downstairs on the right.

Michael's brows raised and his mouth fell slightly. His hand tucked a strand of his hair back behind his ear then covered his mouth with his hand. He blinked a couple of times through his eyelashes. I chuckled and picked it off of the bulletin board and flipped it over on my desk, writing 'To Michael' and handing it to him. He furrowed his brows and stepped back pulling his hand away from his mouth.

"Take it if you like it so much. I know you don't like me very much and I'm okay with that. I'm still your friend." I said being left hanging and still holding the photo.

"I hate you. I hate your '70s haircut. I hate how your teeth are yellow. I hate how your loud laugh echoes in a room. I hate the way you read knockoff comic books. I hate how you smile so big when you lie. I hate you. But I don't, I tried. Something about you is keeping me around. I want to be your friend." Michael admitted. That was a turn of events... He took the picture out of my hands and pressed his lips together. Holding it with two hands he stared at it. I chuckled, and a smile tugged my lips.

"So the soda thing-" I said pointing to the floor lazily. He quickly looked up bug-eyed.

"Ahhh!! Ahh!! We don't talk about that!" Michael yelled jumping on my bed. He got off of his stomach and laid on his back looking at her picture. I sighed going back to my bulletin board of pictures. I put up some new ones I took a few days ago. From the corner of my eye, I saw him put the picture on the bedside desk, and he picked up the book from my desk.

"What is this? It's so cheesy? The guy on the cover looks like me!" Michael asked, reading through the pages.

"It's what girls feel when they're in love, you wouldn't know." I joked. Hearing him scoff.

"Girls fall in love with me. Women get with me." Michael protested moving on his side to look at me with a cocky look, his tongue on the corner of his lips while biting down on it with his teeth. I let out a long 'sure.' He went back to reading. Genuinely Michael seemed invested in the story. Maybe I should show him Sixteen Candles one time. He might like that more because it's a movie. God, I love Molly Ringwald, she's such a great actor and in so many films I love. I have an undying love for her! She reminds me so much of Cheryl. Soon the vinyl stopped playing, so I grabbed another record. Metallica, Ride The Lightning. Putting it in and turning up the volume. Michael's head lifted quickly.

"No way! Metallica! Wait wait I know this one. Ride The Lighting, right?" Michael fanboyed over the vinyl. I nodded lazily. Grabbing a few covers I handed them to him. Dr Feelgood Mötley Crüe, Sweet Child O' Mine Guns N' Roses, Detroit Rock City KISS, Cherry Bomb the Runaways, Bad Reputation Joan Jett, Pet Sematary Ramones, and so many others. Rolling Stones, Judas Priest, you name it. Michael looked like a kid in a candy store flipping through the record covers. He was stuttering his words.

"Oh my god." Michael managed to get out of his excited stutters. Holding up one of them records.

"You can pick the next song." I gave a small smile sitting at the end of my bed. I lie on my stomach further it and swing my feet back and forth. Bopping my head to the beat of the metal music. I felt my imagination running wild, anything with music made me daydream. It was like scenes in a movie or a cartoon show. Michael was mimicking the strings of a guitar that the song was playing.

"Is this all you do?" Michael asked, looking up at the ceiling. His hand was up pointing and tracing the cracks.

"Yeah. I mean sometimes I'll go out if it's with my best friend or if it's because of work. My room beats going outside any day." I said, swinging my feet back and forth while leaning my cheek on my pointer finger. I like to be introverted, my mother always called me a homebody who needs to get out more. The most I would do is hang out with my dad on the porch at dawn talking about our days while he was smoking a cigarette.

"You have a friend that isn't Henry? That's hard to believe." Michael playfully insulted. I grabbed one of my pillows and smacked him with it. He yelled and put his hands up laughing.

"Yes, I do! Jeez. How do you even know I'm friends with Henry? Will doesn't like to talk a lot." I asked sitting up and hugging the same pillow I assaulted him with.

"I know Henry too, you know! You're not the only one. Father will bring me and my brother and sister to work sometimes and that's how I know Henry. He talks about you too much. It's like you're some star student. It's always (Y/n) this and (Y/n) that and oh did you know what (Y/n) did? All the time, it's so annoying!" Michael groaned into the pillow.

"Boo hoo, oh poor you." I mocked sticking my tongue out. Michael lifted his head from the pillow and spotted something. Should I be worried? He looks so curious. He grabbed a book on the floor next to my bed that read 'The 48 laws of Power' which was about Niccolo Machiavelli's philosophy.

"Where did you get something like this?" Michael asked, skipping through the pages.

"It's a philosophy book, about the philosopher Niccolo Machiavelli. He lived in Florence during the Renaissance period. But then a prince came to the city and kicked anyone he didn't like out. Machiavelli was one of them. He would think while he was homeless. He would put on his fanciest clothes and talk about philosophy. Machiavelli has the theory that to get power you need to be feared to be loved. He wrote a letter to the prince on why he should come back to Florence. The prince read the letter and let him back into the city. He gave Machiavelli his spot. To have power you need to cheat, manipulate, and have confidence. It's used in politics and elections." I explained talking through my hands, never leaving his eyes.

Funny story, when I was out for a walk one day I found a kid in a tree reading it and I asked him how he knew that book. We had the best talk about being manipulative. It takes a true philosopher to understand and with that, you need to change your mindset. Philosophy is the love of wisdom, or in Greek Philosophia. It's pursuing your lover, pursuing Sophia. I love doing philosophy but I don't have anyone to do it with.

"This is deep," Michael said he was gapping like a fish. I could tell it wasn't really his thing and it's probably something you look at and forget the next day. I only nodded with a small smile.

My door creaked, I expected it to be one of the kids or my dad telling me to come downstairs for dinner. Cujo came running and jumped on Michael. He grunted putting the book on the nightstand on top of Seventeenth Summer. Cujo jumped on top of him and soaked his face in dog slobber, drool coming down and hitting Michael's cheek. He pushed the dog off of him and wiped the grossness off of his face. Gagging and scowling. I let out a fit of laughter.

"Good boy! Good boy Cujo." I patted his head.

"You named him after the murder dog?!" Michael shrieked scouting up on my pillows trying to get Cujo out of his lap.

"Yeah." I held Cujo's chin up to me and kissed his forehead.

"He almost killed me!" Michael complained, crossing his arms and glaring at me.

"Stop being a baby. Cujo's a sweetheart, he would never hurt anybody unless I tell him to, Isn't that right?" I coo'ed to my puppy. He barked in response. I swear it's like he understands me. We don't deserve dogs, they are too good for us.

"Never thought I would hear that..." Michael mumbled and slowly came off of my pillows. He hesitantly held his hand out to the dog, taking it back quickly when Cujo turned around to sniff his palm. Michael tried again shaking but moved his hand away too quickly again. Cujo barked at him. I grabbed his wrist and held it up to Cujo, finally, he smelt his palm and declared Michael his friend. He put his head into the boy's hand making him pet him. Michael loosened up and pet Cujo's head. A genuine smile tugged at his lips. Scaredy cat.

"KIDS ATTACK!" Uh oh- Elizabeth jumped on her brother and tackled Michael on the bed, hitting him. Telling his face it hurt. Evan was timidly hiding behind Daniel.

"What? Evan! You're supposed to be beating up your brother and my sister!" Daniel said, lifting his arm and looking behind him. Evan was shaking behind him, shutting his eyes so hard you could see the wrinkles on the side. I got up from my spot while Elizabeth and Michael were beating each other up. I went up to the two boys and squatted down to the little one's height. He opened his eyes slowly. They were glossy, you could see every sparkle in the blue. His cheeks were a rosy red. A golden bear was in his arms, looking like Fredbear. William must've given it to him.

"Hey little buddy, it's okay. You don't gotta be me up. Daniel was just joking. Uh... Do you want a hug or something?" I asked, holding out my arms. Evan calmed down a little bit. He left Daniel's side and came up to me laying against me. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back softly. Evan's crying calmed down and only had little sniffles and shaky gasps of air.

"I like your plushie, what's his name?" I asked, trying to relax him.

"Goldie," Evan mumbled lying on my chest. I stroked his hair.

"That's a nice name," I said softly, looking down at him. Something about this kid melts my heart. He's so delicate, fragile. If he was a box being shipped overseas he would have the fragile label on him.

"Wh-What's your name?" he stuttered looking up at me.

"I'm (Y/n), Daniel's sister. You're daddy's friend. What's your name?" I asked, sitting down on my knees.

"I'm Evan, sometimes my sister calls me Ev," he explained. Isn't that sweet? It's his sister's nickname. Daniel looked confused, glaring at us. I shot him a glare. He stuck out his tongue and pulled down his eyelid.

"IZZY! Get the hell off of me!" Michael yelled fighting his sister. I forgot that was happening. To be fair, Elizabeth was winning the fight. She was laughing at him and sitting on his stomach punching him, Michael's hands covered his face. As much as I'm enjoying seeing Michael getting his ass whooped by his little sister it can't go on forever.

"Alright! How about we play hide and seek?" I asked standing up. It caught Elizabeth perked up, she stopped fighting Michael and looked at me with a bright grin. That kid is a little devil but at least she's cute with her bow. She got off of Michael jumping off my bed and running towards me.

"Hide and seek! Hide and seek! Hide and seek!" Elizabeth chanted jumping up and down. Evan on the other hand shook his head no.

"Come on Evan, pleaseee! Pleaseeee! I'll beat up Michael if he scares you! Daniel's sister will make sure he won't scare you!" Elizabeth begged and pointed to me.

"It's true, I won't let him scare you, I'll even make a pinky promise." I held up my pinky. Evan's foot moved in circles and his body turned to the side, his head down looking up at me with doe eyes. Seriously, this kid is adorable. If Michael does anything I'll have Cujo eat him.

"Okay..." Evan held up his pinky. Interlocking it with mines. We pinky promised to stop Michael from scaring Evan. Speaking of the boy, his hair was disheveled and he was leaning on his elbow lifting himself. He held the back of his head, rubbing it while one of his eyes closed. My covers were a mess! My pillows were everywhere! Elizabeth probably used one to hit him. Kids...

"Daniel's it! Run kids! Count!" I yelled pointing to my brother and running away with the kids. Michael hurried soon after.

I don't know where the other two are, but I ended up with Evan. His small hand was trying to hold mine despite it being bigger. I pointed to Daniel's room under his bed. Evan and I hid under there. He was freaking out a bit. Looking around and shaking. I played with his hair and drew soft slow circles on top of his head. He looked like he could fall asleep. I heard Michael screaming like a girl. Daniel must have found him. What a wuss! There were footsteps and sounds of them arguing. They're like Dumb And Dumber. Elizabeth was found, she was whining and complaining about being found. They were looking for Evan and I. Their footsteps were so sloppy. I snickered a little too loudly, Michael was right about my laugh. How did he even pay attention to it?

"Wait..." I heard Daniel's moment of realization. He beelined for his room. It was weirdly suspenseful. Evan didn't like it at all. Seeing his socks roam the room he looked for us cautiously. Suddenly, fingers grabbed the bottom of the blankets and lifted them. Daniel was squatting there with the smugest look on his face.

"Found ya." He said slyly.

"You little buttmuncher." I jokingly insulted. He dramatically grabbed his heart and gasped offendedly. Evan sighed and crawled out from under the bed. I grabbed Daniel's ankles and pulled him to me. He shrieked and yelled at me. Hitting my hand. We got out from under the bed in a laughing fit.

We spent an hour laughing and scaring each other. Besides Evan, I was always paired with the little boy and he seemed a lot less scared when I was around. Daniel even ran downstairs and hid behind the couch till Elizabeth found him by getting a hint from William. She's a daddy's girl.

Michael was it, for the first time. He refused to do it for all the other times. He only agreed to do it if I did it with him. Pulling me away from Evan. I mean I hope the kid will be okay. Mike is kinda a dickhead. The kids ran off and hid, while we counted. Though he stopped counting.

"Why did you stop?" I asked. He stood there arms crossed with a smirk and one of his brows raised.

"They won't notice," Michael said, leaning up a little.

"Ookaay?" I said confused leaning against the wall. There was an awkward silence like Michael wanted to say something but didn't know how to phrase it. I can tell because I can see the cogs turning in his head.

"Whatever, let's go look for the little dweebs." Michael walked off.

"Hey! I'm the only one who can call Daniel a dweeb!" I ran after him.

We looked around the house. The bathroom, in the shower, the hallway closet, under my bed, under Daniel's bed. These kids were too good. It's like they disappeared. Michael and I went into my room. He put his finger to his lips and tiptoed to the closet. He paused for a moment. I shook my head no quickly, pressing my lips together. What if Evan was in there? Grabbing his shoulder and tugging it. He pushed me off. Michael slammed open the closet and put his arms up with a yell. Turns out... Evan was in there. And now he was having a sobfest thanks to Michael. I pushed past him and squatted down in front of the little boy who was clinging onto his Fredbear stuffie for dear life.

"Hey hey honey, it's okay. Come here. Oh man, I'm so sorry I broke our pinky promise." I said hugging him. Evan clung to me. I picked him up grunting at the sudden weight. He sobbed into my shirt. I glared at Michael, annoyed. For once he looks guilty. I kind of felt bad. Dropping my glare with a neutral smile. I rubbed Evan's back.

"Go find the others, Mike I'm sure dinner is almost ready." I nodded my head towards the door. He just nodded and walked off. Evan slowly calmed down still with leftover tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Do you want to go downstairs and hang out with the parents?" I asked him. He slowly nodded, not moving from my neck. I exited my cozy room and walked downstairs. The adults saw me with a crying Evan in my arms and eyed me confused and worried.

"Oh uh, hide and seek is a little too scary for him," I explained. Mrs. Afton showed understanding like this has happened before or the normal but mixed with guilt for her baby. William looked a little phased by it, his smile fading but going back to talking with my mother.

"Oh uhm here Mrs Afton." I tried handing Evan to his mother but he clung to me like a koala bear. It surprised the Aftons and my parents.

"That's very new, well I suppose he likes you a lot. That means a lot to a little child. And please call me Clara. No need to be so formal!" Mrs-... er Clara said. I nodded and took a seat at the table motioning her to sit next to me.

"I'm (Y/n), I'm sorry this is just so new to me. I wish I had heard about you more. You seem nice." I tried to make conversation. As you can tell it's going poorly.

"Awh, you're sweet. William isn't one to talk about personal stuff that much. Why I didn't even know that you two were coworkers! You work with Henry too?" Clara asked with a heartwarming smile.

"Yeah I do, Henry is my best friend. He's really how I got the job in the first place. I'm the head engineer. The bosses are the ones who are in charge of the whole engineering stuff. I'm just here if they need a little extra help or repairs." I explained she seemed to listen to every word. Her eyes softened too. Something about her makes me so comfortable like I can forget every problem I have. Dammit, William's lucky.

"I uhm.. I like your hair, my friend Cheryl Jo, her hair is red like yours too. Except hers is a little shorter." I said awkwardly, I think Evan is asleep or something. He's really quiet and not moving. His breath is a little shorter.

"You flatter me. So you're an engineer for robots? That must be interesting, you don't hear about that every day. What is it like?" Clara asked me.

"Are you going to let me geek out to you about robots? Because if you get me going I won't stop." I grinned brightly.

"I'm married to William, that already says a lot. I would love to hear you geek out about robots." Clara giggled, her nose scrunched up. If Evan wasn't laying on me I would be bouncing in my seat right now. I went on to rant to her about almost everything I learned about robots and what they could do, what's in them, how they are made, and what I think I could do for the future. I was talking so fast that I almost forgot to breathe.

"Dottie, can you get the kids and tell them dinner's ready." My mom said, wiping her hands together. I nodded, giving Evan back to Clara. He woke up instantly mind you. I got up from my seat and went upstairs.

They can't be far, so I check my room first... What the fuck. Michael was on my floor half-naked with Elizabeth and Daniel trying to shove my yellow floral white sundress over his head. He was yelling at them and trying to push them off but Daniel held down his arms and Elizabeth was solving his head through the dress. Daniel moved Michael's arms through the straps. I cleared my throat and leaned against the door. All of their heads turned towards me, surprised. Michael was beet red.

"Uh... Dinners ready."

I walked downstairs and waited for them to... stop whatever that was. I sat down in my seat with no comment. I want to unsee whatever I just saw immediately. William set the table with plates and asked what drinks we wanted. It feels weird to see him act so casually with my family, it feels weird to even see him in my home. To think my family and his never knew each other all this time. It was only him and I. He's so secretive I wonder why. He never told me about Clara or his kids. It could've been like Henry and I with Elle and the twins. Well, they're an odd bunch but still a presentable family those Aftons.

Speaking of which, Michael, Elizabeth, and Daniel came downstairs. The poor boy couldn't even make eye contact with me. Daniel took his seat next to me. Michael sat across from me. Clara was on my right and in front of her was William. Across from Daniel was Elizabeth, Evan sat next to his sister, Mom sat next to Daniel, and Dad sat in front of Mom.

My parents and the Aftons were telling stories or talking about what happened the other day that seemed so crazy. Evan was trying to get Elizabeth to eat her vegetables, he even held it to her mouth. She was stubborn, crossing her arms and pouting. Daniel was listening in on the parents' conversation. felt my foot get nudged. Fucking Michael. He was looking away listening to the parents talk. I stomped on his foot. His eyes became the sizes of dinner plates, he hit his chest with his fist and coughed violently.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Clara asked, leaning over the table.

"Yeah yeah... just went down the wrong pipe." Michael sipped his water awkwardly. Mom snickered at him and shook her head.

When he looked up he made eye contact with me and gave me a death glare. I smirked picking through my food. His foot hit mine again, I hit his shin with my leg. We were battling playing footsies under the table. Staring at each other and not breaking it. Daniel nudged my shoulder. I stopped. The parents were questioning why the table was moving. Michael kicked my ankle. I nodded my head towards the parents. We both looked at them, they were looking back at us. Michael and I quickly awkwardly took sips of our water not looking up.

---------

The loud and lively became cozy and quiet. Clara walked out with a sleeping Evan in her arms. Putting him in his car seat.

"Daniel! Come down here and say goodbye!"

"Bye!"

"That's not what I meant..." (Y/n) said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt her shoulder get lightly punched. Michael standing there with a smile. The annoyance of her little brother wore off.

"You leaving? I mean... you are leaving why wouldn't you be because your mom and little brother are in the car and-... I'm not making this better for myself." (Y/n) said, scratching the back of her neck shyly.

"Don't worry it's cute, I'm about to head off. I'll see you soon, right?" Michael asked looking away then back at her for a moment.

"Yeah.. yeah! Anytime besides when I'm working. Then again Will's the boss so maybe you can come when I'm working? I don't know, I'm bad at goodbyes." (Y/n) stammered awkwardly.

"Cool, cool" Michael laughed awkwardly. There was this tension between them. Vivian swung her arm around her daughter.

"We'll see you again, right Michael? You are welcome here anytime. You see... (Y/n)'s a bit of a loner-" Vivian whispered the last part behind her hand.

"Mom!" (Y/n) yelled, embarrassed pushing her mother off of her.

"I'm going to be bothering you guys all the time now, you sure you want that Mrs (L/n)?" Michael teased.

"Bring it on kid! And call me Vivian. Mrs. (L/n) makes me feel old." She said,

"Okay, well uh I should go to the car now. Bye and thank you!" Michael walked off waving a bit. Goodbyes were shared. Vivian went back to the kitchen to clean. (Y/n) sighed enjoying the moment of silence. William comes around with a sleeping Elizabeth in his arms. Stopping next to (Y/n) with a smile. She looked up at him surprised.

"I'll see you at work, I would love to hear about your new redesign for Trickster. We have a lot to go over, love." William said in his sultry accent.

"I can't wait, I have so much to talk about. I may need help to work on the blueprints and measurements. I'll see you till then, Will." (Y/n) said gently patting the sleeping girl in his arms. He nodded and took his leave.

Stephen (L/n), was in the backyard lighting a cigarette while the Aftons were leaving. Something was odd to him. Something didn't feel right about William. His guy screamed an icky feeling near him. He didn't like it, but he knew it was a move of a fool to find out what was wrong with William. He needs to know when is the right time to act and how to act. A puff of smoke soared up into the dark sky.

Cujo follows (Y/n) upstairs lazily through her night routine. She grabbed the phone and dialed a number. Cujo lay on her bed huffing and puffing.

"ʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴇʀʏʟ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀᴅ."

[concerningduolingo]

Tired of leaderboards and lives running out?

Introducing: the ConcerningDuolingo Classroom.

A while back, I made a Duolingo account and created a Duolingo Classroom there. Today, I finally logged back in, found the join code, and joined it from my personal account. Now, I have infinite lives, and I am excluded from leagues, which I found were getting in the way of learning in the way I wanted to. (Long story short, I've been in the Diamond League for almost 70 weeks and didn't want to let go, but after coming back from Italy, it didn't adjust to the time zone the way I thought it would, and I dropped down without realizing. I'm finally free whew). Anyway, I wanted to give y'all a chance to reap these benefits and invite you to join the classroom.

You can a) click the link I'll add below or b) go to your settings in the app, find the Duolingo for Schools section at the bottom, and enter my join code: xwbqqv. Hopefully this will work for y'all, but if you encounter any issues, I'm sorry!

www.duolingo.com/classroom/xwbqqv

[whiskeynwriting]

hi there liv! 💞

firstly, as i’m sending this to you you’re currently sick and have been for a while, and it makes me sad seeing you not feeling your best :( wishing you a speedy and thorough recovery! 💌

second, i wanted to request a reader-specific piece. i know you’re super busy with all of the other wonderful things you’re creating, so as always take all the time you need <3 i’d like to request one about crying during sex. personally, it’s never the case that i’m upset or in pain or anything of the like - it just feels like a bodily function i can’t suppress. whether sex is rough or gentle, and even when i’m by myself, i do it regardless. and it’s like full-on crying - tears, sniffles, the works lol. i’ve tried to fight it but it doesn’t end up working and makes the experience less enjoyable because i don’t feel like i’m able to let go completely. it can understandably concern some people who aren’t warned beforehand, so i’d like to request something where the partner is aware of what will happen and that it’s not anything that they’re doing wrong (to be completely honest i actually cry more the better it feels lol!) it’d warm my heart to read about a partner who isn’t fazed by it but doesn’t necessarily ignore it either if that makes sense. you could even write about a partner who possibly has a kink for it lol! recently i’ve been fixated on joel miller and marcus pike, but any pedro boy will do! <3

whew sorry for the oversharing haha :/ i hope you have fun creating something for this! and again that you feel better soon 🫶💓 ily

Thank you so much for your kind words love, I appreciate you ♥️

Reader-Specific Writing: Tears

Joel Miller x Female Reader

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Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) please read these warnings thoroughly, as there may be triggering aspects written here.

Brief mentions of insecurity, established relationship, dirty talk, praise kink, dacryphilia, unprotected vaginal sex, established relationship, aftercare and fluffies

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A/N: I am returning to my reader-specific pieces! I never really left them, just got crazy busy toward the end of last year. But now they’re back in full swing, and so are my general requests (: enjoy bbs

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Reader-Specific Writing Masterlist

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There were many faces Joel offered to the world, most of them unkind. Your lover was a mean man; he was rugged by nature, stubborn and rough. And he was good at getting what he wanted because of this. He was resourceful and knew how to think on his feet, to make calculated moves in a quick manner. And these traits weren’t suppressed when it came to you. Most of them, anyway. While the world knew Joel Miller as an intense and intimidating man, you knew him as a kind one. Kind and gentle and warm. He could relax around you. 

When it came to you, things were different. It was easy to see how much you liked it when he was gentle. And gentle, could he be.

“That’s so good, honey.” He’s holding your hip, but only with one hand. The other is wrapped around your chest, palm settling on your shoulder. Leaning in, he brushes his forehead against the back of your neck, nuzzling into you. And he moans when he does it, his lids closing peacefully. 

Joel’s naked body is currently surrounding your own, the hot skin of his chest pressing against your back. The covers are drawn up to your hips, shifting slightly with each of his thrusts. And with your knees bent just a bit, you allow him in easily, hands holding onto his forearms as he moves against you. Your backside is slotted perfectly against his pelvis, your skin connecting every time he slides back in. 

Feeling Joel’s body like this was always an intimate experience. His soft lips trailing down your neck, the scruff scattering his cheeks and jawline ticking your skin. And he always holds you so sweetly, those strong arms wrapping around your body. 

Tonight, it started from a look. He’d gotten back from a patrol, tired and in need of rest. What he really needed was sleep, but when he saw you, his mind changed. You were in the kitchen, the radio on and playing a quiet tune. The past few days had been stressful. He did his best to provide for you; for the most part, he didn’t want you going outside of the house, and especially not on patrols. So, when he came home, he was always happy. Not just to see you but to find you safe and cheerful. It makes him feel like he’s done his job.

“You scared me.” Came your small giggle, feeling Joel’s arms wrap around you from behind.

A small, muted grunt was his response, lips gentle as they found your neck. But then he speaks. 

“What’re you up to, honey?” He was caressing your sides, squeezing your hips every now and then. And it would have been a sweet and innocent moment if you weren’t wearing a pair of boy shorts and one of his shirts. 

“Trying to make some food.” Your voice was sweet, and it urged him to relax against your body. “We don’t have much.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Tilting his chin down, he kisses your shoulder. His shirt was so big on you, it slid onto your upper bicep a bit. “I’ll get some soon, okay?” 

You only nodded, asking him, “How was today?”

“Rough.” That deep voice made you shiver, along with the slow movements of his hands. Trailing down, they cover your backside, fingers reveling in how soft it is. And then he mumbles into your ear, “Better, now.” 

One of his favorite ways to relax at the end of the day was holding you, being close to you. It made his mind calm, made the wild storm inside his head dull to quiet, soothing waves. And at this point in time, he could feel you were tense, stressed about your current situation. You hadn’t adapted as easily as him. And this new world hardened you, much like it did him. 

So, he took you to bed, holding you from behind while you snuggled into him. His hand roamed beneath your shirt, finding the bare skin of your hip, and traveling further. He cupped your breasts, massaging them both while his breathing steadied behind you. It wasn’t long before he was pulling down your underwear, keeping them looped around your lower thighs while he rubbed his steadily rising erection against you. 

“Mm,” A small gasp escapes your lips, mouth opening as you moan. 

His thrusts are deep and slow, dragging against your walls. And he can feel you starting to relax, the muscles in your body loosening. Finally, he thinks. You’re letting go - he knows what’s coming. And he wants it. 

Reaching down, he removes your underwear fully, wanting you to be comfortable. But he keeps your shirt on, pulling it up enough to press his chest flush against your skin. 

“Let go for me, baby.” He’s breathing against your ear, that southern accent making your body shiver. “C’mon, I know you want to, honey. Let me do this for you.” 

It’s your tell, your physical reaction to his body. And you’ve done it before with other partners in the past but no one has ever made you feel as safe as him. Before, you’d release tears. But with Joel, you’re sobbing. 

“Baby,” Your voice breaks, your quiet wail forcing a smile to crack across his face. 

Rocking back against his body, you gasp, unable to suppress this all too natural feeling. Leaning forward, Joel cranes his neck to view the side of your face. And that’s when he sees the droplets rolling down, a profound groan emanating from his chest. 

Tenderly, he pushes you forward so you’re on your stomach, his sturdy body pressing you down into the bed. He keeps his chest against your back, pelvis rolling down against your ass. It’s passionate and heated, his moans becoming much more prevalent. 

The pleasure is so overwhelming that you can’t stop the flow of it, the wetness rolling down your cheeks. And what makes it even better is that you feel safe enough with Joel to do it, to truly let go and allow your body to experience this fully. And Joel loves to see it, fucking revels in it. Before you, if a partner of his cried in bed, he’d be mortified. He’d assume he did something wrong, of course, and worry would plague him. But he knows you well enough to know that isn’t the case. At this point, he’d be worried if you didn’t cry. Just like when he came home to find you happy and carefree, it makes him feel like he’s done his job, and done it well. 

“J-Joel,” Gasping, you let go of his forearm to fist the sheets, the hand still on his arm clinging tightly to him. “Joel.”

“Oh Jesus, baby,” The thick girth of him continues to split you open, aided by the wetness of your arousal. You’re so wet that it’s leaking down your thighs and onto the fronts of his, and he loves the feeling of it. Another physical tell of your attraction to him. “Look at those pretty tears…” 

Looking down, he can see the pillows growing dark and damp from the constant flow, your sniffles sounding so sweet and cute beneath him.

“You sweet little girl… you feel good, honey? Does it feel good?” Leaning in, he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, his mouth and scruff tickling your ear. 

“Yes,” Nodding rapidly, you cry out for him. “Yesyesyes.”

Gently, you rock back against him, moving in sync with his motions. The way your body moves makes him groan, his lips lowering to find your shoulder. His sweet kisses quickly turn into soft nips and sucks, littering your skin with marks of his love. 

“Oh, baby.” He breathes, pulling out of you in one slide. “C’mere.”

Easily, he flips you over, immediately diving between your legs. Within seconds, he’s returning to your warmth, a broad hand lifting to cup your face. Leaning in, those plush lips find your cheek, kissing the wet trail of your tears. It’s fervent and hurried, planting quick kisses all over your face. And it makes you whine quietly, weeping beneath his overt affection and genuine love. 

“My sweet baby,” Joel murmurs, continuing to kiss the salty drops. His deep voice sends a shiver through your body, your hands sliding up his chest, over his shoulders, and along the column of his neck, until your fingers tangle into his graying hair. 

Joel bounces his hips forward and back, mouth sliding down to your neck. His chest presses to your own, the firmness of his a contrast to your soft curves. 

“I love you.” Inhaling a sharp and deep breath, you release it with a quiet cry. 

“I love you, baby.” Your lover returns, his words spoken genuinely. “I always have, always will.” 

The wetness from your eyes continues to spill over your cheeks, your nails scraping across Joel’s scalp while tangling your fingers into his hair. 

“But honey,” He then says, that rugged voice now gasping and grunting beside your ear. “I need somethin’ from you.”

“Baby?” You ask, turning to rub the point of your nose over his cheek. “What? What do you need?”

“I need you to cum for me.” 

“Mm.” Tossing your head back, you release a passionate whine, his words sending a powerful wave throughout your body. 

“Oh, I need it.” Joel gasps, moaning for you. “I need it so bad, wanna feel it, baby. Can you do that for me?” Looking up at your pretty face, he uses his thumb to wipe away your fresh tears. “I know you can.”

“Baby, more.” Comes your quiet beg, reaching out for him. “Deeper, please.”

Joel’s lips part with a groan, his face diving down to the crook of your neck, but not before dragging his lips across the apple of your cheek. He rests more of his body weight against you, his hips driving forward at a much firmer pace. It’s diving inside you, the thickness of him, his tip pulsing against the spot you’d been begging him to reach. And he knows when he’s hit it, because your legs are wrapping around him, your body is shaking beneath him. 

“J-Joel,”

“You’re okay,” He coos, kissing your neck. “I’m here, I’ve got you.” 

Within the warm cocoon of Joel’s arms, your body finds its release. Arching your back, you cling to him, the wetness of your emotions rolling down your skin. It falls to your neck, allowing Joel’s tongue to swipe them away, offering small kitten licks while he fucks you through your high. 

It takes over your body, your throat going dry from the sounds you release. And he only allows himself the same pleasure when you’re nearing the end of yours, when your hips are no longer rutting up against his, when your eyes open to look lovingly at him. That’s it, it’s the pretty look, that look that’s so sweet and welcoming. He lifts his head intentionally, searching for this cue. And when you give it to him, he’s crashing his lips down to you. 

Now, it’s your turn to hold him, to feel the stuttering jerks of his hips between your legs. You keep your thighs wrapped around his waist, holding his face and kissing him through it. His forceful groans vibrate to the back of your throat, his hot breath fanning over your mouth and face. And it makes you feel whole, seeing him like this, being one with him like this. 

“Sweetheart,” When Joel speaks to you like this, just after he’s spilled inside you, he’s always so soft. His voice sounds light and airy; peaceful, almost. “My baby…” 

Curling his hand beneath your head, he holds you, giving you one last, firm kiss. And then his face is by your neck again, each of you cuddling into the other’s embrace. Sex with Joel was always like this, so intimate and passionate - spiritual. You felt like you were meant to find him.  

“You’re such a sweet girl for me.” He praises, kissing the exposed skin on your shoulder. When he realizes you’re still wearing his shirt, he grins. 

“Only because you’re so gentle with me.” Your reply is soft, muffled slightly as you kiss his head. 

You don’t have much, but it’s the best there is to offer. You’re only allowed to wash your clothes maybe twice a month, and still, he cleans you with a rag whenever he’s finished taking you. He wets it lightly and refuses to let you do it. And before you go to the bathroom, he insists you sit long enough for him to get you some water, too. After all, you do lose a small bit of fluid throughout the entire ordeal. It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do for you. And Joel’s best is more than enough. 

By the time you’re back in bed, the day has grown late, the outside world lit dimly by dusk. Joel is already beneath the covers snoring, but when you crawl in beside him, he wakes just enough to scooch closer to you. Facing him, you nuzzle into his chest, now completely naked. You wanted to feel his warmth. And in his sleepy state, Joel wraps both arms around you, making sure the covers are over both your body and his. Just before drifting off again, he kisses your head, mumbling sweet nothings to you. Most of the time, they don’t make any sense. But they make you smile, nonetheless. Joel worries daily about whether or not he’s done his job with you. Whether or not you’re safe, whether or not you feel happy and cared for. The word precious isn’t delicate enough to describe you, it doesn’t sound important enough to describe you. All he knows for sure is that you’re his. Despite witnessing each and every one of his flaws, you’ve accepted and chosen him. Him. And he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure that was the right choice.

[multiversefanfics]

Little Brat

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warning: Smut, Minors DNI!!! Mean Bucky, mentions of hydra Summary: All i’m going to say is. Whew Bucky! A/N: I am going to try and make sure Bucky isn't too mean but we all know how he is.

You and Steve were out on your daily morning run, he challenged you every morning. You were the only one besides Bucky that could keep up with him, just like Sam you got tired of him saying ‘on your left’ so you worked hard behind his back and managed to gain speed, it may have something to do with you also having the super serum in you. After Hydra you stopped training you fell into a deep depression and got ‘lazy’ as they say, Steve pulled you out of your funk and helped you get back to yourself minus Hydra. Your attitude changed a ton since you joined the avengers and had Steve by your side to help you through the dark days. You didn’t realize that while running you kind of slowed up until you heard the familiar voice beside you “On your left” You groaned and started to catch up with Mr. Captain America himself, he was at the end panting waiting for you to meet him “I haven’t said that to you in a while, I miss it” He chuckled elbowing your shoulder a bit, you pushed his arm away trying to catch your breath “I was distracted.” You pushed the loose hair away from your face, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began walking back to the compound “What’s on your mind, sweetheart.” You groaned rolling your eyes at the same time “You know I hate when you call me that” He smiled down at you and nodded “Yeah, I know. What’s wrong?” You sighed and looked straight ahead “It’s Bucky, he just- He’s been a little meaner than usual, he won’t even look in my direction every time I enter a room he quickly gets up and walks away. I asked him to pass me the ketchup the other day at Sam’s cookout and he basically threw it at me.” Steve sighed as they continued walking “Bucky is just a little tough around the edges, Hydra messed him up.” You groaned removing yourself from Steve “That’s not an excuse anymore and I am tired of people tiptoeing around Bucky like he’s some baby. I went through the same thing Bucky went through okay, I know what Hydra did, I was there.” You took a deep breath before spewing out words you didn’t really mean to say “I am tired of being the only one that Bucky doesn’t get along with, Im tired of everyone including you, making excuses for him. He’s a grown man and should be treated like one.” You could see in Steve’s face that he was no longer looking at you he was looked passed you and you knew exactly who was behind you, and you weren’t afraid to face him. You heard a low growl as you turned around coming face to face with Bucky “If you’re so tired, then leave. No one wants you here anyway.” His eyes were cold, his fists were balled, and the veins in his neck were poking out “Bucky!” Steve barely raised his voice to Bucky but for some reason today was the day. “No, Steve. She’s so tired, go.” You rolled your eyes and brushed passed him even though he never moved an inch from the contact of your shoulders connecting. “You want me to fucking leave? I’ll leave. No one wants me here okay, fuck you Bucky!” You mumbled to yourself as you walked to your room grabbing the closest duffel bag you could find, stuffing a bunch of clothes in it.

You heard a soft knock at your door while you were throwing your clothes in your bag “Go away, Steve!” Your door pushed open and slammed shut, you heard the lock turn which made you turn around as well. You groaned at the sight of Bucky “What do you want?” He responded by pushing your back up against the wall, staring deep into your eyes “I want you.” He growled dangerously close to your ear, and you felt a shiver go down your spine he nibbled on your earlobe a bit “And Doll, I know you want me too.” It was true, you wanted nothing more than to let Bucky have his way with you, it was just something about him that made your lady parts tingle, his eyes were dark and searching for your approval to continue which you subtly gave him, your wrists now pinned above your head with his metal hand, his other hand slowly following the curves down your body until he reached the waistband of your underwear. Again he looked at you for approval. Bucky always wanted your consent, no matter how angry he was, consent was his number one goal tied with making you orgasm first. Bucky slipped his flesh fingers between the folds of your warm, wet core which made you squeal and shudder from his touch "Oh, for someone who hates me, you're sure wet for me." Bucky began making circles on your clit making you squirm under his touch. He loved nothing more than to see your pleading eyes stare at him, and beg him for more "B-Bucky please.." He continued the circles, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your neck, to your chest. "Use your words, Princess." Bucky moaned against your skin sending more chills down your spine. "I want your fingers" And without hesitation he slides two fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan his name loudly, Bucky smirked up at you watching your eyes go shut "Oh, no Doll. Eyes open." You forced your eyes open making sure to look directly at him "That's a good girl." He purred while pumping his fingers a few more times, but by now Bucky was hard and wanted nothing more than to feel you around his throbbing cock. He lifted you up by your thighs, tossing you on the bed, as he walked over he unbuckled his belt with one hand not taking his eyes off the beautiful bundle of nerves that so patiently waited for him. He took a second to admire your body for all that it is. Finally, Bucky had you right where he wanted you. Begging. He lined himself up with your entrance, and he looked up at you once more "Are you sure you want to continue?" You pulled his face down to yours, smashing your lips to his tugging at the hair on the back of his head, just as you were about to gently bite his bottom lip, he slowly but aggressively slides in you, and your mouth falls open, screaming out his name in pure painful pleasure "Fuck Bucky, don't stop please!" He picked up his pace watching your eyes roll to the back of your head "That's it, baby. You take me so well." You began clawing at Bucky's back knowing there will be scratches later but neither of you cared. You felt your body start to shake, you'd never had this type of orgasm before, Bucky put you on cloud 9 and everything soon fell into place, you let out one last moan before you both cum. Bucky now out of breath, collapses on you while still very much inside of you. You run your fingers through his hair trying to catch your breath. "So, Y/N, do you still hate me?

Masterlist

[inkykeiji]

thiiiiis close to creating a bungou stray dogs selfship aes blog (*/ω＼*)

[benbamboozled]

Where are the best comic representations of Jason in your opinion? I’ve read some of the Red Hood and the Outlaws stuff and that’s okay (I really like Roy and Jason interacting) and the Nightwing 2021 annual was great, but I want to read more. I just don’t want to read the versions where writers distill Jason down to “angry, violent, no empathy, doesn’t care about anything or anyone” which I feel like happens a lot.

Whew…okay, this is going to be long. Just a head’s up.

SO…this is kind of a complicated question when it comes to comic characterization, at least for me. Honestly…I don’t really judge things based on “best” with comics but more “my favorite,” because comics characterization is so all over the place and inconsistent that (IMO) “best” just…doesn’t really mean much.

Because of that, this list is going to be some of my Jason Todd faves, with a focus on Red Hood, that I think all or most of your specifications!

(Also note that I am NOT the person to give pre-A Death in the Family Robin!Jay recs. Hopefully someone in the replies or reblogs can help out! I’ve only read the Garzonas arc and part of A Death in the Family.)

(ALSO ALSO NOTE: I have SIGNIFICANT GAPS IN MY CANON KNOWLEDGE because I dropped out of DC comics for like…many years because ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS WERE DEAD. I am FAR from a Jason Todd Exploit Expert. Why was Jason “Wingman”? What was that whole thing with Donna Troy and Kyle Rayner? I DO NOT KNOW. I am WORKING ON FILLING THOSE GAPS but I am also FREQUENTLY TIRED.)

ANYWAY, on with the show!

Let’s start with the classics!

Under the Hood+Batman Annual #25!

Don’t call it a comeback…he’s been here for years!(Technically, via retcon.)

Okay so I’m putting this one first because this is the Jason Todd I fell in love with. FURTHERMORE, I mean, this pretty much sets the stage for all of Jason’s Red Hood appearances.

WHY do I like it?

—Jason is COMPETENT. He GETS SHIT DONE.

—Jason is FUNNY. Like, legitimately funny. Other characters are also funny! Black Mask and Slade are funny! The Joker is funny! It is frequently a funny story!

—Jason is SO SAD. With every part of this arc, I very much get the feeling that Jason is just…desperately trying to live for something and this is the only thing he has. And I, for one, eat that up with a spoon, it gives me LIFE.

Red Hood: Lost Days

A mini by our buddy Judd Winick, filling in the details of Jason’s backstory originally seen in Batman Annual #25.

WHY do I like it?

—We get to see Jason killing baddies! Unapologetically! Like…real bad baddies! Wooo killin baddies!

—More of Competent!Jason! He learns a lot of very useful killin skills and he learns them quick! And he uses them very well.

—Once again, Jason Todd is VERY SAD. Here, we get to see WHY he is so sad in Under the Hood. Have you ever wanted to see every element of a character’s stability in life get slowly but surely worn away by circumstances completely outside of their control? Well, here you go!

Red Hood and the Outlaws: Rebirth+Red Hood: Outlaw

Ah, the Lobdell Years. (Original flavor RHatO not included)

WHY do I like it?

—So, RHATO:Rebirth!Jason Todd is not quite my Jason Todd. He’s more subdued, more of a Stoic Woobie than my preferred Jerkass Woobie version of Jason. HOWEVER, Lobdell’s version really exudes a sort of sense of…doom?…crushing sense of existential hopelessness?…quiet despair?…that hooks my heart. Good old Jason “not everyone wants to be alive” Todd!

Whereas Winick’s version of Jason plays with the fourth wall in a kind of pointed way, RHATO:Rebirth Jason (IMO) feels very…trapped in the narrative. He knows that everything is going to fall to pieces for him—because he can’t have nice things, because he’s Jason Todd, and Jason Todd will never be allowed to keep anything nice—but he’s still going to help his friends, goddamn it.

—It’s nice to see Jason have friends that are his own. I love the “Dark Trinity” of Jay, Artemis, and Bizarro. You really get why they cleave together, and they’re just…cute. I love them.

Okay, now…here are some recs with caveats!

Cheer from Batman Urban Legends #1-6

There’s a new drug called Cheer on the streets of Gotham! Flashbacks and problems abound!

SO.

Cheer.

My caveats are:

1. Jason is annoyingly incompetent.

2. Part of the setup of the story involves Jason acting in a way that I consider OOC (he kills a guy and it’s made out to be a very big personal deal for reasons that I have ranted about previously).

3. Jason gives up guns. Ugh. Boo.

—Okay now OUTSIDE OF THOSE THINGS…

WHY do I like it?

1. We get flashbacks to little kid Jay, Robin!Jay, and Bruce in UtH that I consider to be very meaningful to Jay and Bruce.

2. The plot hook involves a drug called Cheer that makes people hallucinate their happy place, and Jason and Bruce’s hallucinations kind of break my heart into pieces. (I’ve talked, uh, A LOT about them, I have no chill.)

3. I really love the art for the flashbacks, and bb!Jay is REALLY CUTE.

So, yeah, thems my feelings! Jason definitely isn’t portrayed as “angry, violent, no empathy, doesn’t care about anything or anyone” so I’m gonna go ahead and rec it.

Robins mini

The Robins get together on their own and decide whether recruiting child soldiers to fight a never ending war on crime might be…you know…a bad thing.

Okay my caveat is that…some people don’t like it for reasons that I haven’t really explored because I REALLY like it. In the beginning of the story there is some talk of Jason being a ne’er-do-well…buuut it comes from him, so I very easily take it with a grain of salt.

WHY do I like it?

—First of all, I just really love the Robins all getting to hang out together and then work a case together. They should get to do that more often/all the time.

—Jason gets MANY Big Damn Hero moments. And they’re not just Big Damn Hero moments but like…BIG BROTHER Hero Moments, and I love every one. Multiple times he’s watching out for the other Robins and I just…I love it.

—Stephanie Brown is also a Big Damn Hero.

—Bruce Wayne is kind of a woobie and I can’t help but get feelings when he gets feelings about his kids.

Battle for the Cowl

Batman is dead! (For now.) His cowl is like…right there. People may or may not battle for it.

WHEW…okay so…THIS ONE IS VERY CONTROVERSIAL. A lot of people hate it. FOR VERY GOOD REASONS.

It is NOT good. In fact, it is very BAD. It is bad on MULTIPLE LEVELS.

—Characterization for multiple characters is BAD!

—The story is DUMB! It’s not even a BATTLE! Only one person WANTS to be Batman!

Also, Jason is a villain in the story, just straight up.

So…

WHY do I like it? (And WHY would I rec it?)

WELLLLL…two main reasons.

The first is that, in his attempt to make Jason “irredeemable,” Tony S. Daniels (the writer) ended up making him AWESOME.

Do you like watching Jason run around Gotham beating up his whole family? Do you like seeing Jason get to be a proper villain? Do you like Jason being perhaps the only competent person in the whole fucking city? (Okay Tim Drake is also competent but he gets jobbed by my boy.) Do you like seeing Jason go off the rails with absolutely no hinges to be seen? Do you like seeing Jason play dress up with the Bat costume?

I DO! I do like all of those things! And if you, like me, answered YES to most or all of the above, Battle for the Cowl may be relevant to your interests!

Okay so reason number 2 is…

Jason is going through a mental fucking breakdown through the whole story brought on directly by Bruce fucking Wayne. And there’s nothing I love more than hating Bruce Wayne! And, gosh, he is just SO HATEABLE in this story! He’s not even in it, but I guarantee by the end you’ll be like, JFC, JASON is supposed to be the irredeemable one?!

ANYWAY! As a diehard Jason Todd fan, Battle for the Cowl is my filthy guilty pleasure. DO NOT pay money for it! Get the TPB from the library or get it through sneaky means. It is NOT worth paying for but it IS a rollicking good time if you are a person of specific tastes.

Okay, whew! That’s it! Well probably. That’s at least the ones that I can think of right now! Hopefully people will throw more recs your way!

(Sequel list here with all of my faves I didn’t put on this list! :D)