#who am i kidding that man is a full 3 course meal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaysungshine · 6 months ago

Text

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say.

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping.

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before.

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you.

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course, despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter.

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level.

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred.

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules.

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense."

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day."

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me."

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake.

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away, going back to facing Ji's door.

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

2K notes · View notes

mins-fins · 1 month ago

Text

infinite love without fulfillment [prev].

and though you have always been the apotheosis of misfortune, it appears the son of sunny prosperity, huang renjun, can never just remain faithful to your very inquiries.

PAIRING. huang renjun x male!reader

GENRE. alternative universe, 80s–90s timeframe, hurt/comfort, a crossbred of slow and fast burn, angst angst angst, fluff.. in fleeting moments, a boy with bad luck x a boy with good luck, mutual pining, the typical isa mins-fins sadness meal, sort of relationship study, technically childhood lovers i suppose, much romantic

WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, death, suicide, smoking, mere mentions of child neglect, school violence, bullying, mentions of slight injuries, bleeding, reader has the absolute worst luck imaginable, period-typical homophobia, the rest of the dreamies are kinda terrible friends, most of the adults suck, um thats it??

WORD COUNT. 1k, 1074 words preview | ??? full fic

NOTES. well jesus hello everybody, this fic is quite literally a monster and i have no idea why i conceived it or where it came from or why i so dearly cherish it but welcome to your much typical isa mins-fins angst fest with love, a non linear narrative, stuck in the past and simply boys with huge feelings 😁 this fic came from the most disturbing corners of my mind and is again much self indulgent because i have terrible luck so nobody is allowed pleasure and is subjected to pain!! of course, this preview is probably one of the few nice scenes in this thing, but don't get your hopes up, i am me after all 😋 i began this pre-renjun return, i just love him a lot.. and just for contexts sake bc this thing flip flops throughout several years, reader & renjun are both 74 babies, okay enjoy my mess

1987.

the first meeting took place in a spot now abandoned. following the beginning of your teens, your uncle managed to grab you the occupation as his friend’s protégé. mr lee was about the sweetest man you could meet in such a town, his smile reached his eyes, his glasses tilted sideways in a display of his excitement, his words often scrambled and much too practiced for a kid your age.

you paid no mind to the peculiarities, there may have been a falter here and there, a fracture in the show of happiness he kept so perfectly built up as his defense. strange or not, you had nothing against a harmless, cheerful man who sought for the best life he could offer for his family, it was admirable really, you found him the closest figure of a father at the time.

the records shop was barely a mile walk, your shift consisted of sorting records of movies you had no mind to comprehend the existence of. the horror was typical, comedy was cheesy, romance was.. something, and you always wrote down in your mind to speed past the adult movies, glancing at them would be akin to committing the sin of lust.

clouds shook above on the dimmed november afternoon, a foreshadowing of the incoming rain. you spent most of your shift peering upward at the roof on its final leg, you’d not be surprised if it collapsed on you.

“it won’t fall” your boss voiced, assurance there when you most needed it. the state of his widened eyes behind his glasses still provides you a good deal of amusement, they were the thick ones, brims much too passionate. “place has been standing for years, a simple storm won’t take us down”.

“knock on wood” you opted to whisper.

his replying chuckle is cut short when the bell above the door echoed off the walls in a stark, beaming sound. eyes narrowing, it is then when the first meeting took place. you can pinpoint the exact start; 3:45 pm, october second, in the lee’s movie record shop, you spotted the drawn out features in an instant.

your gaze averted as his settled onto you, your intrigue in your cuticles suddenly peeked. in contrast to you, mr. lee brightened at the sight of seemingly familiar folk. “ah! is that the huang’s i see? how was the trip?”

always ever so buoyant, conversation picked up rapidly, you always pondered on if all adults acted in such a way, you hoped it was a skill that developed with age, your own antisocial nature being that of your biggest weakness.

a pair of eyes kept themselves trained on you, yet you managed to avoid their path. you placed your hands forward, a pile of dvds suddenly tumbling downward and crashing onto the floor.

you swore under your breath, muttering apologies in the air. a nuisance you are.

you knelt to begin cleaning your mess, eyebrows knitting together as another figure kneels to aid you in picking up the clutter. you glanced upward, meeting an identically colored pair of eyes.

his features are soft, you theorize they still are. eyes wide, cheeks full, lips pressed thin, you two are the same age, yet he still appeared as a baby. protection, fondness, you wanted to insulate him from the horrors of this world. how funny.

“hello” he spoke as if you were delicate, fragile, glass would shatter if the volume had been too high, your expressions would fracture if he even dared to speak in such a contrasting way. “my name is renjun”.

it was never meant to be a conversation, never meant to be anything more than a spontaneous act of kindness. a sure fire, mundane november afternoon with rainfall right on your tail.

you stared inarticulately, as if rendered beyond words, nothing of a term on your tongue, like the mute kid those who don’t know you assume you to be. his gaze remained soft, nothing compared to the calloused looks from the other boys at school, they’re mean, they’re toughened, renjun? he was completely different, in the glass of his eyes was pure virtue, virtue he longed to share.

your throat went dry. “my name is.. um—”

you kept at a pause, the lack of malice foreign to you.

“y/n” mr. lee called, the tensing of your shoulder paired with your wince startled renjun backward, but you composed yourself quickly enough. “have you really never met renjun? he’s a good friend of donghyuck’s, you know”.

lee donghyuck was the son of your boss, his smile is toothy, his baby bones remaining present, his laughter always seemed endless, a true testament to the kind of son he is. you surmise that he inherited most of the traits from his father, his mother was never stone cold, per say, but she did not ease the stoic looks.

he could be akin to one great pain, but he could never be a genuine problem, he had vivid dreams and could power through any brick wall, you envied his vigorous manner.

“donghyuck is.. um, i— we aren’t really friends, i forgot to ask” you stammered, hands clasped, gaze frantic. he released his usual mr. lee hearty chuckle, the sound bouncing off the walls in a resounding action. “i didn’t know how to..”

you twiddled your thumbs, gaze straight down, shame running along with the bright red blood coloring your veins. there reigned a rain cloud over your head, dumping its depression ridden remains atop your head. you did not mean to ruin the mood, yet the aching silence alerted to you that all could sense the dejection lacing your tone.

stupid, stupid, stupid, you ruin everything.

you’re sure mother would never utter such words, yet her voice was all circling around in your mind, appending to the depressive rainfall drenching your very soul.

“it’s okay! you know, renjun likes books too, you two would get along!”

and he began his ramble, you found such a prospect amusing, he couldn’t help it, the manner of an excited child who had every spontaneous factoid to spew. both you and renjun merely glanced, equally as gladdened by the sight.

“these are scary” he voiced, staring downward at the picture of the omen. “do you like scary movies?”

“they are okay”.

your opinion hasn’t changed since.

“too scary”.

you could not help your silent chuckle, it was just the slightest bit cut.

#huang renjun #nct #nct dream #renjun nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #huang renjun imagine #huang renjun x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #huang renjun x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

20 notes · View notes

2af-afterdark · 10 months ago

Note

Hiii, sorry for the confusion :'3 I'm the one who request for chubby things, I mean that the king's reaction when they see MC get crazy/in love/... with the king's chubby parts 🥲 Like MC want to bite/hickey/nom nom on that part (... me too)

Oh right I don't know if you still accepting requests or not, sorry.... 🥹🥹🍀

OKAY! NOW IT IS TIME TO GO FERAL! Also, yes, my requests are currently open. I'm just slow.

Let's not kid ourselves here, Satan has an ass that just won't quit. He's the kind of man you hate to leave but you love to watch him walk away. MC will not hide for a second that they are admiring Satan's ass and he will not hesitate to invite them to do more. They have absolutely zero chill when it comes to getting their hands on his glorious butt and squishing it between their fingers. Give it a good slap and watch it jiggle. "Is that as hard as you can hit? Let me show you show it's really done." Just be careful, because Satan will definitely take the opportunity to enjoy MC's body too. Blessed be the MC's with an ass, because Satan is about to turn that thing red.

Mammon is a pretty safe bet with his voluptuous tiddies on display at all moments. He is clearly very proud of his chest and even more so when MC takes their time to stare at and admire it. Actually, I get the feeling he would offer them a closer look and invite them to shove their full face in there. His tiddies belong to MC and will be the main course of their horny feast for the evening. "Every word of praise from my master is worth a fortune." At some point, he'll just start waiting for them to work themselves up into a horny frenzy and show their greed for his fine features. When they are greedy, he is happy.

Leviathan looks like the kind of man that is lean and perfectly proportioned all over, but his thighs are perfect for taking a bite out of. His inner thigh is so meaty and would look perfect with bite marks. While he agrees that his body is perfect, he does not appreciate MC's antics. Watch him get upset (read: angry) at MC for wanting to get their hands (and lips) on his thighs. They will be strung from the ceiling in no time. Consider it the perfect opportunity to gawk at this fine features and tell him exactly how seeing his juicy thighs drives them absolutely- "Enough." AND he's covered their mouth so he doesn't have to listen to their horny ramblings.

By request of 🪰anon, I will now be talking about Beelzebub's dick. They said it as a joke, but I am going to be very serious about the bulge that thing makes in his pants and how fat his balls must be. Those deserve to be massaged and sucked on. He will gladly sit back and let MC do as they please, just waiting for his moment... "It's my turn now." Expect him to return the favor when MC gets tired, because he's the devil of gluttony and he refuses to walk away without a meal of his very own.

#2af writes #❖ nonie #love letters ❤️#talkin' whb #whb satan #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub

64 notes · View notes

h0estar · 6 months ago

Text

catching up to bnha (spoilers for chapters 349-352)

okay i watched the episodes first before reading the chapters and wow. the anime did a great job.

as someone who absolutely adores and feels for toya's lore, this battle was particularly gut wrenching. i was literally sat on my couch, bawling over the fact that the todoroki kids had to clean up and confront their parents' messes.

i am aware that most of the fans dislike dabi/toya due to the fact that his story was dumbed down to "a kid who lacked attention." but i am fully convinced his character solely exists for the eldest child in every family.

toya lost 3 years of his life and the fact the first thing he thought of when he woke up was his dad :( that he was probably worried and that he should go to apologize to his family for the things he did. :( when he mentioned that he wanted to be a hero, i absolutely lost it. this guy wanted to be like his dad more than anyone else. he had the weight of expectations on his shoulder from when his dad acknowledged his potential. yet of course, his dreams were crushed by his very own parents and he was left alone to deal with that loss.

well there you go, another eldest child = guinea pig proof for every family. do you have any idea what it's like to strive to become the person your parents acknowledged you to be but only to have it visibly replaced by someone younger than you? a literal child, your own flesh and blood, who's naturally talented and never had to worry about a thing in their life? well, that feeling sucks ass.

but shoto has grown so much in the story. he's genuinely a really nice guy who's willing to move forward and face his past for the future. and i love how in his life, he has never interacted with toya once but he still calls him his brother and talks to him like it's so natural. this moment in the manga made me shed a tear ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ:

got me all up in my feels man. toya is just so full of rage and resentment and shoto acknowledged that. ultimately though, he was right. it was toya's choice to attack innocent civilians and i love how shoto told him to take it out on their family instead of others ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ (i mean yeah technically he did with all the nomu he sent but whatever)

the tears i've cried because of this panel. this battle must've been really hard for both of them. ughhh my heart is shattered over the fact that shoto still wants to spend time with toya and toya is absolutely repulsed by his existence. (this finishing blow must've been a pain in the gut for him because once again, the prodigy has defeated the failure disjisksdhjs) i can't do this yall. they deserved better. so much better.

anw, this moment reminds us once again that a hero's true purpose is to reach a helping hand. izuku with shigaraki, shoto with toya, ochaco with toga, class 1-A with aoyama, and many more. granted, some of their actions are unforgivable but since this is fiction, i'm going to continue being a sucker for stories that give even irredeemable characters a second chance--dead or alive, it doesn't matter.

well, here's hoping i get to see the todoroki siblings in therapy. actually, the todoroki family in general. and then someday, a moment of toya and shoto going out to have a nice meal of udon together ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

#rhey finally recovered my draft #late post but whatever #bnha makes me cry #the todoroki siblings make me cry #bnha #mha #my hero academia #bnha thoughts #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #boku no hero academia

19 notes · View notes

fleur-de-violette · 7 months ago

Text

How to tape a card castle

AO3

Summary:

Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.

Note:

This fic was longer than expected. Warning for near drowning and infection. There are also situations of kidnapping, murder, assault and stalking, all of these happening to random citizens. The three parts have wildly different lengths, and you can stop anytime that feels right to you depending on the level of angst you want to end with. (I recomand going on AO3 for part 2 and 3. The fic and comments are open for non registered users).

Act Two

October 12, 2:24 AM

Air feels like heaven. The cold, rancid air of Gotham harbor feels like a warm meal given to a starving man, it feels like hot showers after staying in the snow for too long when it enters Dick’s lungs. From the noise Jason - the noise Robin - makes against his chest, he must feel the same.

“Fuck,” the kid says. “Fuck.”

“Language.”

Jason gives him a stare. “Don’t you dare. I heard you when you’re talking with B.”

Dick snorts. Talking is a big word. He doesn’t think he’s had one non-vigilantism related conversation with Bruce that didn’t end in an argument since… since.

“Are you okay?” he asks instead of thinking about B. He can’t think about him right now. Right now, it’s easier to focus on keeping Jason safe and swimming to the shore.

“Yeah, thanks to you. I learned to swim but this is totally different from the pool we have.”

Dick nods. He had learned how to swim way younger than Jason, on a lake, in Croatia. His parents had told him it was a good skill to have and congratulated him on the broken breaststroke. Most of the places he’s swam in since haven’t been as nice as the sunny lake, with a shore full of grass and his parents laughing with him.

They’re almost to another shore, one made of concrete and lies and disappointment, when Jason says, “Shit.”

“Language,” Dick replies, not without a smile. “What is it?”

“There’s blood.” Jason sounds like he’s panicking. “There’s blood in the water, where is it coming from?”

Oh. That. “Guys got a lucky shot in the back of my right shoulder.” And when Jason’s face twists, he adds, “Relax, the suit took most of it, it’s not deep.” At least, he hopes so. He didn’t have time to check what was happening, but he felt the impact just as he was diving in the sea, after he realized Jason wasn’t going to be able to keep himself above water for long. “And, hey, not a word to B. It will be our secret.”

Jason looks suspicious, but he nods. He probably knows better than to argue with the person pulling him to dry land.

And of course, B is there when they reach said dry land, in all his Batman glory. Dick can’t help but wonder why he didn’t jump into the water. Is it because he trusts Dick, despite everything, or is it because Jason isn’t that important to him after all?

Robin was never meant to be expendable. And yet...

He chases the thoughts away as he helps Jason on the dock and pulls himself up. It looks like he was right. The bullet hit the back of his shoulder, but he still can move his arm fine, so it probably didn’t do much damage. He hopes that in the dark, and given that he’s covered in water, B won’t see a thing.

But maybe he shouldn’t have worried, because B takes Jason under his cape, like he used to with Dick, in a gesture that is so Batman and Robin it makes something in Dick’s heart ache. He suddenly feels very cold, in a way that has little to do with the fact that he just jumped into the harbor, and he feels like running away. Like he needs to get out of here now.

“Did you get all the men?” he asks Batman, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

“Yes,” Batman replies. A one worded answer, clear.

Dick feels a buzzing in his head. “Okay,” he says. “Then I don’t have anything left to do here.” But he does. He was here for something. Except, right now, in front of Bruce, he can’t remember what it was.

“Nightwing,” Batman says, almost like an insult. “You went into the harbor. Do you want to come home with us?”

Home. Dick almost snorts. He doesn’t have a home in the manor or in the cave anymore, if he even had one in the first place.

“I’m fine,” he articulates. “Thank you.”

Just as he starts walking toward his bike, Jason untangles himself from Batman’s cape to sprint toward him. “You saved me,” he says. “Thank you.”

He ruffles the kid’s hair. His problem isn’t with him; he actually likes the kid, and maybe it would be easier if he didn’t. “Don’t mention it,” he says. “You’ll do the same one day.” And with that, he’s gone.

October 12, 4:02 AM

The ride back to his apartment is a blur. He makes more turns in Gotham than he needed to, just clearing his head from the night by riding. He knows he should go back to his place: treat the minor bullet wound on his shoulder, get warm, get some sleep, and fuck it’s Monday. He has to go to work tomorrow (today, this morning), somehow.

Finally, when the streets of Gotham have done their work, he gets back. He takes the fire exit, even if no one in his building would probably care if they saw Nightwing entering by the front door - that is, if they even know who Nightwing is in the first place. He closes the window behind him. His place is not big, and it’s not exactly fancy, but he can afford the rent, and it’s owned neither by Wayne Real Estate or by a mafia family, so he takes it as a win.

He removes his uniform, he will have to clean it or change it, he thinks he still has a spare somewhere, and ow, his shoulder really hurts now. Not as bad as it could be, but it’s an annoying ache.

He gets into the shower, and warm water makes him feel good until it doesn’t. Until he finally remembers what he was planning to do tonight. He needed information on Gregory Frye, a former Black Mask employee, if he can call him that, who is trying to make a name for himself in the business. Batman doesn’t see him, doesn’t realize how dangerous he can be. How fragile the situation in Gotham is. And even if Dick explained it to him, he wouldn’t believe him anyway. That kind of trust hadn’t really been built between them, even if Dick thought, foolishly, that it could have been. He pushes his head on the shower wall. He wants to scream. Why did he blank? Why did the sole sight of Batman makes him forget why he was there in the first place? Now it would take forever to get the info, and that was time he couldn’t afford to lose, time potential victims couldn’t afford to lose.

October 12, 4:52 AM

The water has long run cold when he gets his head back together, and he shivers when he gets out of the shower. So much for warming up. The clock on his night table shows that it’s almost 5 AM. He needs to leave for work in about two hours. He can do this. Now, he needs to… He needs to clean up his shoulder.

The wound is awkwardly placed, and the bullet is still in there. Not too deep, but still in there. For a second, he thinks maybe he should call the Titans. Wally can be here in less than a minute, and they all learned first aid. It wouldn’t be Alfred’s professional work, but… But, no. Wally has his own things to do, his own life, and Dick can’t call him every time he gets a boo-boo. Not to mention he would probably worry, and what if he…

Realistically, Dick knows none of his friends would ask him to give up vigilantism, and none of them have the power to force him to do anything, but the possibility sends shivers to his spine. He wanted to be an adult, right? He can be an adult. Responsible adults remove the bullets from their back shoulder on their own.

He twists himself in front of the mirror to get as clear of a view as he can while he works. Then, he takes tweezers, bites on a cloth, thinking idly that the neighbors might not mind one more or one less scream, given how often the guy next door just yells for no reason, and gets to work.

He’s quick. Not as quick as he wishes he was, but he’s quick. He’s used to it by now. He removes the bullet, cleans up the wound to the best of his capability, and bandages it. He washes his face to hide all traces of tear tracks and thinks idly that he should probably wear makeup to keep people from staring at him. He hopes the bandages will be enough to keep him from bleeding through his clothes at work, at least. The kids of Gotham see enough every day. They don’t need to see that.

Speaking of which, it’s almost time to go to the school. He tries to remember which classes he has in the morning. He applies light makeup, just enough to hide all traces of the night, and plasters a smile on his smile. He can be the nice and cool gym sub today. And even if he doesn’t feel like an adult, even if he has a hole in his back shoulder, even if he’s running on less hours of sleep than would be optimal, even for him… he can do that. The kids of Gotham deserve that.

October 12, 12:06 PM

The kids of Gotham, he thinks after four periods, don’t deserve shit. They keep mocking his exercises, doing dangerous things, and he caught seven of them trying to skip and three more smoking in the restroom. He hates teenagers, he thinks, even if he’s not much older than a teenager himself.

Except he doesn’t actually hate them, and when he explained to them the danger of cigarettes, one of them mocked him and it should have made him angry, maybe he should have increased the detention time, but it just made him think of Jason. Jason, who probably hid in the bathroom to smoke as well and thought he was hiding it so well, but the smell can’t be hidden. Not from Batman, not from Nightwing, and certainly not from Alfred. Jason, who he saved from drowning yesterday, so maybe his night wasn’t that much of a failure after all.

He should text Jason. He should text Barbara as well; she might have info on Gregory Frye, and it’s always less mortifying to ask her than it is to ask Batman. But for now, he sends a quick text to Jason, asking him if he’s ok. Maybe he got to skip school. There had been some instances, after traumatic patrols, where Dick had been allowed to skip school. Would almost drowning in the harbor be considered traumatic enough to grant that? For Dick, it wouldn’t have been, but Bruce treats Jason differently. But maybe he was allowed to skip school and decided to go anyway, Dick thinks, remembering that, unlike him, Jason actually likes school.

On cue, Jason replies that he’s at school. “I’m good” the message says. “Got hot cocoa from Alfred just after getting back.”

Dick feels something he can’t quite put a name to in his chest. He was the one who declined Bruce’s offer of going to the manor. He can’t feel jealous about the warm hot cocoa.

“What about you, got home alright?”

Yes, later than he should have been, and then he fished a bullet out of his shoulder by himself. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m good,” he types instead. “I’m at school too.”

“And you’re texting in class, mister gym teacher? That is bad, you know. You deserve a detention.”

“I’m on break, but should you be texting?”

“You’re going to rat me out? No one would ever believe you, teachers love me.”

Dick shakes his head fondly. He needs to hurry if he wants the coffee he desperately needs before his next period.

But when he enters the teachers’ lounge, he can distinctly hear the voice of Andy Evans, the math teacher.

“No,” she says, apparently on the phone with someone. “I don’t want to go to the police, this is getting out of proportion, I never wanted this… I know, but it’s not-” She stops talking when she spots him. “Look, I need to go, talk to you later.”

“Is something wrong?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s nothing. Everything is fine.”

She’s a pretty bad liar. She looks about as fine as his current relationship with Bruce is. “You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right? I mean, I don’t know how much I can help, but I can always try.”

She sighs. “You’re very kind, but I don’t think I need a young man to help me, it would only make things more complicated. Besides, don’t you have your own life to worry about?”

He does, but it’s easier to help others than it is to take care of himself. But he doesn’t have time to tell her that, because the bell rings at that moment. He didn’t text Babs, and he didn’t have a coffee. Great. “I’ll be here if you ever change your mind. I might be young, but I’m resourceful!” He gives her what he hopes is a winning smile before going back to his classes.

October 12, 5:16 PM

He breathes in, breathes out a few times in his car once the classes are over. He’s exhausted, and his shoulder hurt a bit more than he thought it would. His shift at the bar will start soon, but he needs to call Barbara. He drives a bit away from the school to reach somewhere he’s sure no one will overhear him and gets his phone out.

Babs replies to the call, but she’s less enthusiastic about his calls than she used to be. He can understand why, and it’s his fault. Nowadays, he mostly calls her when he needs info. His fall out with Bruce means she ended up in a complicated situation, forced to pick a side.

“Any chance you have info on Gregory Frye?” he asks, and he can practically see her disappointed face, despite not actually seeing her. Once again, this is not a social call.

“I don’t exactly have access to the Batcomputer, but I don’t think B has a longer file on him than on any other Black Mask lieutenants. Same for the GCPD. I know you have your own sources, but do you really think that man is any more dangerous than any others? I mean, sounds to me like you’re starting to become a bit obsessive.”

He doesn’t have time for her judgment. “I’m not. I know what I’m doing.” He’s not becoming obsessive. He’s not like Bruce. He knows there’s something up with that man.

She sighs like she doesn’t really believe him. “I’ll let you know if I ever come across something, either as Batgirl or as Barbara Gordon. I need to go, I have a class to be in… Take care of yourself.”

He listens to the phone tone for a few seconds after she hangs up. The words resonate in his head. Right. She has a class to go to. Because she’s in college. Another point he and B have been fighting about, which, in Dick’s opinion, Bruce is being a hypocrite about, as a drop out himself. He was good in school. He didn’t especially like sitting in class all day, but he had good grades. He liked to learn, even if he didn’t like the setting he was learning in. Maybe Bruce was right. Maybe he would have done well in college. Maybe, just like Barbara did, he would have been able to balance studies, a part time job, and vigilantism. But he wasn’t Barbara and he needed to get independent, fast. He needed to get away from Bruce in a way Barbara doesn’t. And if that means working two jobs while figuring out who Nightwing is and trying to save as many people as possible in the process, then so be it.

Speaking of which, he starts his car again, toward the bar, this time. This bartending job helps him get info both on things happening in the underworld and also some police cases Babs doesn’t have access to. It’s a useful tool for Nightwing, as well as a way to help him pay the bills.

There’s a trust fund somewhere he has access to. A gift from Bruce, maybe as a weird way to apologize for firing him and basically kicking him out. He knows that if he uses it, he could quit one of his jobs, but he refuses to open it. He knows he should start giving the money to charities, if only not to let it sit there uselessly. But part of him fears that if he starts touching it, Bruce will see it as proof that he can’t take care of himself on his own.

So, he tries not to think too much about everything and gets ready for his shift in the bar. Besides, he can’t see himself leaving either job. The bar gives Nightwing precious info and the school allows Dick Grayson to hopefully help a kid or two have a better time there than he did. He pushes away the voice telling him it’s also a way to keep himself busy and keep himself from thinking too much. Thinking about what it means for Jason to take over Robin, thinking about his relationship with Jason in the first place and where he currently stands with Bruce. Thinking about how he’s nothing to Bruce, now – not his ward and not his partner anymore - but the man still has so much power over him and can still make him feel like a little child.

October 12, 10:32 PM

“Yeah, terrible. I knew them well, I used to go to the gym with Charles. Him and the kids are still missing, too.”

Dick stops near the table, pretending to clean up something. What is it about children missing?

“You think the dad - Charles, right? You think he could have done it?”

This is the question Dick is also asking himself. He will have to dig up some police files tonight.

“I don’t know,” says the man at the table, “They seemed like nice folks, Luz had her own business, it was going well, he was a graphic designer, they planned to move to Metropolis… Y’know, better school for the kids, they said.”

Dick almost snorts. Yeah, as a teacher in Gotham who was hired with little to no experience, maybe a school in Metropolis would have been better. He will do his best to make sure they can see school. Be it in Gotham, Metropolis, or anywhere else.

“Their marriage was pretty standard, you know, I’ve been to their house a few times, but you never know what happens behind closed doors. God, I am so stupid. I saw him, you know, I saw Charles as some kind of mentor. But if someone like him, good job, no precedents, good marriage and all, if someone like him can snaps and what? Fucking murder his wife and kidnap his kids, what hope is left for the rest of us?”

The other man at the table calls him and he takes their orders. “To Luz,” he says when Dick brings their drinks.

“To Luz,” the other man replies. “And I’m not often on the side of cops, but I really hope they find the kids. If I was a bit braver, I would go to my contacts but… that’s going to get me a bullet in the head.”

You won’t have to, Dick thinks. Nightwing will be brave for him and find them.

October 13, 1:26 AM

There is still nothing more than there was the day before about Gregory Frye in the GCPD cases, but he does find a Charles and Luz Prelatte case. She’d been hit in the head with a heavy object and was dead by the time the cops came in after a neighbor complained of the noise; kids and husband are nowhere to be seen. There were no traces of forced entry. The husband is a primary suspect, obviously. The question is: where is he? Where could he and the children be hiding? The police already questioned his friends and checked a bunch of possible locations, without success.

They need someone with a different approach. They need Nightwing. And Nightwing they will have.

October 13, 2:05 AM

The first thing he notices upon entering the crime scene is that he’s not the first one who’s been here. The first person is good, he gives them that, but he’s better.

He follows their tracks to a big desk in the corner, which both Luz and Charles apparently shared. Did the idiot go back to get his computer or something? But, no, the tracks don’t go to what he assumes is Charles’ side of the desk, with color palettes and logo samples printed. Instead, he finds himself opening Luz’s drawers, looking for something missing. There are tons of documents about her company, plans of getting bigger, hiring, new clients… and it looks like it was really going well for her.

He does a double take when he finds a video cassette. Luz was the founder and CEO of a tech company. It seems uncharacteristic that she would use a cassette tape, especially for something work related. He pockets it and hopes he remembers to put it back if it’s nothing.

October 13, 2:35 AM

It appears very quicky, as he watches it, that the video cassette is a major clue. It shows someone with a mask, as well as Charles and the two kids, all tied up in chairs, with gags in their mouths.

“Since you need a little more encouragement,” the person in the mask says, their voice artificially distorted. They hit Charles in the face. “You know what to do.”

So, this is a ransom call. The police are looking in the wrong direction. Charles is innocent, and a victim, at that. Something in Dick is relieved at the thought. He thinks of the guy at the bar, and thinks there is hope for him, despite whatever was in his past. He thinks that despite everything, the kids will still have a parent.

But that doesn’t help him much in finding them. They look like they are on the docks, in one of the warehouses like there are so many. Looking at them all will take time the kids might not have if whoever has them doesn’t realize Luz is dead and starts to get impatient. He watches the video a few times, tries to increase the background sound, but he finds nothing that could identify the location. Time to try things differently.

The location of the cassette is an important parameter. It was with the documents about Luz’s company. Whoever this person wants is probably related to that, then. Luz had an associate, a woman named Luna McLeod. Maybe that’s where he should start.

October 14, 2:58 AM

It doesn’t take long to find Luna McLeod’s flat. Despite the late hour, she’s still awake, playing a flashy video game on her computer with headphones. Her place is a long shot from Luz’s. Dick can see four cats, and there’s a mess of gadgets all around the place. Luna herself has blue hair and tattoos. He knocks on the window, and she jumps.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“I’m Nightwing,” he replies. “I’m here to talk about Luz Prelatte.”

And, from his experience, there are a few possible solutions here, depending on her involvement with the case. Either she is going to run, threaten him or… yeah. She starts crying loudly.

“I’m sorry,” she says, opening the window. “I know who you are,” and despite the situation, he can’t help but feel a bit of pride blossom in his heart. She knows who Nightwing is. “I… Luz was my best friend. The police came already. You think Charles did it? Him and I, we didn’t really get along that well, but I thought he was good for Luz, I never saw anything, I… I feel so stupid.”

Dick put his hand on her shoulder, ignoring how much his own shoulder screams at him. “You’re not stupid. And I don’t think Charles is the culprit.” He knows he’s taking a risk, telling her that, but she’s not the person in the mask - she’s way shorter and not as muscular as they are. Besides, on top of her tears, which seem genuine, her behavior isn’t that of someone who has people kidnapped. Her guard isn’t up, and she opened the window for him with a bit of apprehension, but not more than the situation would grant for. Besides, the mess, and the video game… He knows this behavior. She’s keeping herself busy, numbing herself. She’s in grief.

“I think her murder was related to your company.”

Luna gasps. “I…” She looks around, her eyes lingering a bit on her cats. If he had to guess, he would say they are the most precious thing to her, now that Luz is gone. “Do you think I’m in danger too?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. What can you tell me about Cichlid Tech?”

She takes a deep breath. Sits down. “Do you want tea?” she suddenly asks. “I didn’t offer tea, I should have offered tea, I’m sorry.”

“I’m good, thank you.” She’s a mess, and by the way the idea of tea immediately fills him with a longing for the manor, for Alfred’s teapot and cups and for home, he might be too. “What can you tell me about your company? I don’t need any trade secrets or anything, but… would someone be upset enough with your progress to resort to drastic actions?”

She sobs a bit more. “It wasn’t my company. I mean, it was, but Luz was the one carrying everythin., I’m just… I mean, look at me! I’m just a geek, I’m a loser, I can’t go on without her…”

He kneels down and wipes her tears. “You can. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re stronger than you think you are, I know it. And I need you to be very strong and tell me anything that comes to your mind about anyone who would have wanted something only she could have given them.”

“I… I don’t think Andrew…”

“Who is Andrew?”

“Andrew Willis. He created the company with us, back when we were students. He wanted to sell it a few years in, but we disagreed. Luz and I we… We really believed in our work. We believed… Luz believed we would be the new Wayne Tech. I know it sounds stupid, but-”

“It doesn’t,” he says, smiling at her. “And, hey. Between you and me, Wayne Tech is not that good.” It is. And he misses the gadgets every day. He misses everything, really.

“So, we bought his part, and he went on to do his own thing. But now that we are, that we were growing, thinking of moving to Metropolis and hiring more people and all, he came back and tried to buy his share back. We refused, because he didn’t do the work to get Cichlid Tech where it is, and it’s too easy to come back just as things are getting brighter. But… Andrew is our friend. It’s true that we had a falling out, but he wouldn’t do that.”

That’s still something. He can work with that. He thanks Luna, and, with a few words of comfort to her, he leaves.

He makes sure to stick a tracker on her on the way out, though. One can never be too careful.

October 14, 3:51 AM

Andrew Willis is easy to find. Dick doesn’t have an easy way of figuring out which warehouse is the one where Charles and the kids are, but at least Andrew Willis is sleeping in his own apartment. Dick doesn’t really know how to proceed. He can see a camera on a desk, but he doubts the video will still be in it. There are also tools that could have been used to enter the crime scene.

He could terrorize him - shake him and force him to confess. But that is the Batman way. He needs to do things differently. He needs to do this like Nightwing would.

That still involves scarring the guy. He gets inside as quietly as possible, and climbs on the ceiling, knowing full well his body is not at a natural angle.

“Where are Charles Prelatte and his children?” he asks when he sees the man stirring, and Andrew just jumps.

“Did Luz send you?” he asks, and Dick didn’t expect a confession so fast. “She must really be determined to not give me what is mine. I guess she cares about that company more than she cares about her family, I’m sure Charles will be happy to-”

“Luz Prelatte is dead. That’s why I’m here.”

Andrew swallows compulsively. “What? No. I just… I hit her, but she was just asleep.”

He seems so distressed, part of Dick almost wants to comfort him. But another part remembers he holds a man and two children hostage in a warehouse.

“You will not get what you want. Not from Luz, not from anyone. It’s over, Andrew. Tell me where they are.”

“Well, if Luz can’t help, I need to go find-”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Dick quickly falls from the ceiling and gets the man’s hands behind his back. Andrew fights a bit, but nothing Dick can’t handle. Once he safely secures him to his bed, he starts searching the place for any indication of the man and kids’ location.

It takes him a bit of work - he has to rummage through the entire apartment - but he eventually gets his hands on a key, with a warehouse number. The whole time, Andrew is yelling at him about his rights and how Nightwing is in so much trouble with his lawyers.

Dick doesn’t really think he’s in trouble, but the screams make his head hurt. He’s happy when he’s finally flying on the Gotham skies, coursing through the night. This is the kind of moment where he can forget everything and just be free.

October 14, 5:02 AM

He hates Gotham Harbor and its endless rows of warehouses. He hates even more that he constantly has to look over his shoulder, afraid to see Batman or Robin. He’s too tired to deal with Bruce now. He doesn’t need to hear that Gordon got his call about Andrew or how he could have done things differently, how he could have been better.

What he really needs, he thinks as he opens the door of the warehouse, is a win. He really, really needs a win.

He lets out a breath when he sees the three chairs, and in them, a man and two kids.

He runs toward them, untying them as fast as he can.

“Hey, hey, I’m here to help you,” he whispers. “Are you hurt?”

The kids shake their heads. They are terrified, but hopefully nothing worse. “We’re okay,” Charles says. “But… What about my wife? She was injured.”

Dick looks at them. This part never gets easier, and there’s no right way to say it, especially in front of the kids. From the way his face breaks, Charles seems to understand.

“I’m sorry,” Dick says. He should probably call the police. He should probably tell them that the family, or what’s left of it, have been found. But he remembers going away in a police car, that night at the circus, away from everything and everyone he loved. He remembers the long hours he spent waiting for Bruce or Alfred to get him after a kidnapping, so he asks, “Is there anywhere safe you could go?”

“To Aunt Luna’s,” says the older of the two kids, a girl with curly hair and big glasses.

For a second, Dick looks at Charles. He remembers what Luna said about the two not being exactly friendly. But he sighs, and says, “Yeah, let’s go to Aunt Luna’s.”

Charles looks utterly defeated, but he doesn’t cry. Neither do the kids, who maybe don’t quite understand yet that they will never see their mother again. They are also very tired, and the walk is long. At some point, Charles takes the youngest in his arms.

“Do you want to hop in?” Dick asks, looking at the older girl, holding his own out to her.

Despite the situation, she smiles when he takes her in his arms. She’s asleep within minutes.

October 14, 6:47 AM

The arrival to Luna’s place is quiet, and they go in by the front door, something Dick isn’t used to doing as Nightwing. It’s only once the kids are safely in the bedroom, the cats sleeping protectively around them, that Luna talks.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she says. She’s a bit calmer than when Dick saw her, but she looks like she hasn’t slept all night.

Charles offers her a sad smile. “I never really gave you a reason to appreciate me, I’m the one who should be sorry. But I… The kids are going to need you.”

“I’m going to need you guys too, I… I don’t know what to do now.”

“Me neither. I wish I… Me neither.”

Dick looks at them from the corner of the room. The road ahead is long and painful, but they have each other.

“Look,” Luna says. “The sun is rising.”

Dick looks at the window. The sun is rising. This night is over.

Shit. The sun is rising.

October 14, 7:39 AM

Dick is welcomed by groans of disappointment. “Mr. Grayson, why did you have to come?” Why indeed. “You know if you’re ten minutes late, we’re legally allowed to skip!”

He doesn’t think this is true, but he keeps a smile on his face as he says, “Well, I’m here now, so let’s start warming up!” He keeps up the cheery façade, even if the two all-nighters in a row start to take a toll on him. He’s met with another concert of groans for his troubles. “Because today we’re playing dodgeball!”

That gets him some cheers. Good. The dodgeball strategy tends to work. Maybe his fellow teachers would scold him for that, but it’s not like he was mentored much anyway. So, if the kids are happy with dodgeball, dodgeball they will have. He owes them that, for being almost ten minutes late.

His back shoulder aches when he shows them the warming up moves. He hasn’t had time to check it properly; he just took a quick shower and changed the bandages. But it wasn’t bad yesterday, so he assumes it’s just the sting of healing, combined with his exertion of the night. He’s fine. He got this.

October 14, 12:12 PM

“Dick?”

He wants to groan or grunt or yell. He doesn’t need anyone else needing him, the kids already exhausted him enough. But he’s not like that, he’s better than that. He’s better than Bruce. So, he says, “Yes?”

“Um, did I catch you at a bad time?” It’s Miranda Joy, the English teacher.

“No, not at all,” he says with a smile, hoping he doesn’t look as tired as he feels.

“It’s about Andy. I know it’s none of my business, but I also know you offered your help, and I think she needs it.”

“She said I could complicate things…”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know what I know. Her ex is in town. This is… you know how it is. Yesterday, I offered her to go to my place for the night; I don’t know why I did that, instinct, I think - I didn’t want her to be alone, and all that. Anyway as I was picking her up, I saw him. I think he’s stalking her, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want her to panic, and she doesn’t want to involve the police, but if… I don’t know, you’re young, you’re fit, I’m not asking you to beat him up or anything but, you know where she lives, you were invited to the barbecue this summer, right? I would keep vigil, but I’m too scared… But if you could scare him into getting out of Gotham and staying away? She and I would be grateful.”

She looks at him for a second before saying, “I know I’m asking for a lot.”

“You’re not,” he immediately says. “I don’t know how much I can help, I’m not very intimidating.” Except, he is; or at least, Nightwing is. “But I can check on her tonight.”

She looks so relieved at that, it almost makes him forget it adds one more thing to his schedule.

Almost.

October 14, 3:10 PM

“Sabrina isn’t here today?” he asks the team as the girls warm up. “Or is she late?” It’s weird. She’s usually the first one on the track, missing practices for nothing.

“She said she wasn’t feeling well and she went home,” one of the girls says. He ums. She seemed fine yesterday, but he’s going to trust her if she says she’s not feeling up to practice. He makes a mental note to check on her before saying, “Send her well wishes from me. And, hey, any of you guys interested in joining the circus art program I’m trying to start?”

That got them to laugh and tell him to stop it. “But you’ll always be our track and field coach, right? You’re the best one we had so far!”

He smiles. “I’ll try! You guys are a good team, too. It would be a shame to not be the one who sees you get to the top.” They have a meet soon and they are pretty excited for it. Since the beginning of the school year, he’s seen them improving their confidence and skills around him. See, he can be a mentor. Even if it’s just to a bunch of girls who like running. “Now, on the track you go! There is only one way to go to the top, and it’s not by talking!”

Wednesday, October 15, 0:46 AM

“Ok, sir, you’ve had enough.” And Dick’s shift is almost over, so he would rather not have to take care of a drunk man for hours, that would be great.

The man throws up on the sidewalk once they’re outside. “It’s my night off,” he complains. “I don’t drink when I work, I swear.”

“And I believe you. Is there anyone I can call to come pick you up?” His shoulder aches where he’s holding the man up.

“My wife, my… her number is on my phone. Oh, fuck, she’s gonna kill me. Doesn’t matter, I’m dead anyway. But I didn’t have a choice.”

“Okay,” Dick says, “I’m going to look in your pockets for your phone, now, alright?”

The man nods and he starts looking for a phone. “What happened to you? Why didn’t you have a choice? Maybe I can help?”

The man laughs. “Unless you can dismantle Gotham’s gangs, I don’t think you can, no.” Dick almost smiles. He would be surprised.

“I’m not going to work tomorrow, nor the day after,” the man whispers very fast. “I’m a security guard on the docks, and I’m not going to work tomorrow, or the day after. I’ve been paid a lot to make it look as if I clocked in, and then go away. I couldn’t refuse, I don’t know what they would have done to me if I said no! But I can’t lose my job now, not with the baby!”

“Paid? By whom?”

The man looks at him, him, and puts his hand up to speak conspiratorially, which works fantastically with his loud slur of a whisper. “Trust me, kid. It’s better if you don’t know.” Dick isn’t sure about that, but he nods, and calls the man’s wife. She curses and says she’s on her way. Once he sees a car pull out in front of the bar and a very pregnant woman gets out, he knows it’s her. She thanks him and gets her husband in the car, not without yelling at him a lot. Dick doesn’t understand everything, but he clearly makes out, “…and drinking on your own when you know I can’t drink? Unfair.”

His shift is almost over, but he has important information. He knows there’s something going on at the docks tomorrow and the day after. Where exactly, and by whom, he doesn’t know, but he plans on figuring it out. But first, he needs to check on Andy.

Wednesday, October 15, 1:30 AM

“And look who’s there? Looking in a lady’s window late at night?”

The man looks up. “That is none of your-” He stops when he can’t see anyone. “Who’s there?”

Dick loves that trick. “Someone who wants to know why you’re watching a woman in her own home. After she had… um… she had a restraining order against you, didn’t she?”

The man still looks around. “Are you a cop?”

Dick taps on his shoulder once and then disappears. He laughs. “Oh, no, honey, I’m much worse than that. And if you don’t get away from her and get out of Gotham soon, I’ll show you just how much worse I can be.”

“You can’t… You… You’re bluffing!”

So he’s going to have to do it, hmm? He braces himself. Won’t be fun with the still-injured shoulder. He drops down silently, takes the guy under his arms, and then pulls the both of them up. The man screams.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake her up.”

“Let me go!”

“Are you sure?”

“No, put me down! I’ll leave, just put me down!”

“That’s more like it.”

That was fast, thankfully. He gets the both of them down, and puts himself in front of a streetlight, hoping it will make him look taller than he is. “Leave this city,” he says, “and never come back.”

The man looks like he’s ready to pee himself, so he considers this a success. He will have to check if he’s really gone, but for now, he hopes he won’t bother Andy anymore.

October 15, 2:18 AM

“Let me go, you motherfucker! Help!”

He turns down the alley he hears the screams coming from. He finds a young woman with what seems to be a much older, much stronger man.

“I think she sad no,” he says as he rushes to them.

The man just slowly turns his head to look at him. “And why would you care? This is Gotham. No one cares about people like her.”

“I do,” Dick says. “Get away from her.”

The man grunts, goes to punch him. Too slow. Dick moves fast to avoid getting hit and gets behind him, zip tying the man’s wrists in a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” he asks the woman. “I’m going to call the police.”

“I don’t want to call the police, I just want to go home.”

Dick winces internally. Without her testimony, there is no way the man will be charged. But still, he can’t go against her will, so he just walks her home.

October 15, 2:44 AM

On his way back, just after calling Gordon to give him the location of the man, and hearing confirmation that he can’t be charged without a testimony and that Nightwing doesn’t count as a witness, he makes the mistake to look up.

And that’s when he sees them.

Robin’s colors are bright in the sky, Batman like a shadow next to him. They’re probably on their way back; tomorrow is a school day, after all.

He suddenly remembers the words from the man he caught. No one cares about people like her.

Batman and Robin fly too high, he realizes as he turns into his street. They see the big picture, but they don’t look enough at the corners. At the details. The details that could change a life.

Dick does. He tries to. He’s not Batman, he’s not Robin. He’s something else.

And something else might be what Gotham needs.

But for now, and if he wants to do good, he needs to sleep.

October 15, 6:30 AM

Maybe sleeping was a bad idea because he somehow feels worse when his alarm rings than he did last night. Still, he has to go to work. He’s glad the team isn’t training this afternoon, despite what he said to them yesterday. At least he might be able to catch some more sleep and maybe look up what’s happening tonight during that time. For now, he just gets ready for a long day ahead of him.

October 15, 12:04 PM

“Dick?”

He smiles. “Andy, hey, how are you?”

She let out a small laugh. “I heard Julian - my ex - I heard he left Gotham this morning. And Miranda confessed she talked to you. I don’t know what you did, or even if you did something… I don’t want to know. But, if you were the one who made him leave, thank you. I can sleep better knowing he’s away.”

Before he can answer, she smiles and says, “I told you, I don’t want to know. I’m leaving you to your break.”

And just like that, she’s gone. But it means he helped. With Luz’s family. With Andy. With the woman yesterday. He helped them. Nightwing can do good. He’s got this.

October 15, 3:01 PM

“Sabrina?” he calls out as he sees her in the corridor. “Are you okay? You weren’t at practice yesterday. Are you feeling better?”

She looks embarrassed. “I think I’m going to stop being part of the running team,” she says, her eyes on the ground.

“Really? Why? You seemed really enthusiastic about it.”

She let out a badly concealed sob.

“Sabrina, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

She finally looks at him, eyes filled with tears. “My dad says if I don’t get better at math, I’ll have to stop being part of the team because it’s taking too much time. I don’t know what to do, I get stressed when I don’t run and when I get stressed, I can’t focus on numbers and stuff!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We will talk to you father, and how about we talk with Mrs. Evans, as well, and see what she can do to help you understand math?”

She nods. “I have homework for tomorrow and I can’t understand a thing and Mrs. Evans has already gone home,” she says.

He sighs internally. There goes his nap. “I could help you, if you want.”

She looks at him with big eyes. “But you’re the gym teacher.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And? I’m still pretty good at math.”

She looks like she’s still suspicious of his skills, but it’s not like she has a choice, so she finally agrees, and the two of them make their way to the library.

As she explains her issues and questions, he wonders if Jason is struggling the same way. He and Sabrina are about the same age, they must have a similar curriculum. Gotham Academy is stricter than the school he works in, and Jason was a bit late on his studies. He told Dick, one day, that he liked school, but maybe he still has some troubles with classes. And he seemed more like an English kid than a math kid. Maybe Dick would have been able to help him, like he’s helping Sabrina, even if the numbers dance before his eyes as he does.

Maybe, if things had been different, Dick would have been able to be as there as he wishes he was for Jason. But he can’t look at Jason without thinking about Bruce’s betrayal. About him giving Robin to another kid without consulting Dick first.

But Jason seems happy, and he repeats over and over that Robin saved him, almost the same way Robin saved Dick, too, so he can’t blame the kid. Can’t hate him. He tries to connect with him, he does. They exchanged numbers, they talk, Jason even asked if he could come to his place a few weeks ago. Dick hasn’t answered yet.

“Woah,” says Sabrina. “You’re really good at math, and really good at explaining it. I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

“What, do I look stupid?”

She turns red. “No, that wasn’t what I meant, it’s just-”

He smiles. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. I’m glad I could help.” He is. Even if the prospect of a night at the bar, followed by patrol, makes him want to hit his head on the desk.

October 15, 10:22 PM

The tray shakes in his right hand, and Dick has to bring his left arm to stabilize it. Maybe scooping up Andy’s ex worsened his shoulder more than he thought it would. That, plus carrying the kid the night before.

He will look into it tonight, check if anything is wrong with the wound. But first, he has to figure out where the drunk man from the night before was working and how dangerous the event that will take place tonight will become. Then, depending on the situation, he might take a day off. He’s not working at the bar tomorrow, he can rest for the night.

Batman, Robin, and Batgirl have the city covered, after all. If he’s as useless as Bruce seems to think he is, he can spend one night resting and recovering.

“Are these beers coming today or tomorrow?! Move, boy!” he hears someone yell and he realizes he was spacing out. He must be even more tired than he thinks he is. He hurries to the men and gives them their drinks, hoping no one else noticed. The last thing he needs is to get yelled at by his boss.

October 16, 1:12 AM

He finds the man he saw the night before in the databases of Gotham’s employees and he’s grateful for online databases. All it takes now is a bit of hacking. When he was a kid, he had sneaked into official buildings on multiple occasions to get important documents. It was actually one of the first things Bruce trusted him to do on his own, he thinks fondly, before the memory gets tainted by bitter nostalgia he probably shouldn’t have.

He’s okay. He’s the one who chose to leave, or at least he thinks so. It was complicated.

It’s better thos way. He has to think that way, especially in moments like this, where he’s hurting and tired. He has to think like this, otherwise he’ll just crumble, and he can’t crumble. Not now. He needs to figure out what’s going on in this part of the docks.

Thursday, October 16, 2:53 AM

“I’m sure all of you are wondering what’s going on, and why I’ve gathered you here.”

Dick is wondering that, too. He’s been waiting for over an hour, just watching people gather ‘round - some faces he knew as goons of Gotham, some he didn’t. That is, until a man in a suit showed up. He can’t see his face very well, but his silhouette is somewhat familiar.

He shivers. Fall had been kind so far, with milder temperatures than normal, but he guesses there is only so much Gotham can offer in October… And he had been static for a while. He wants to move, he does, but he has to listen to whatever this person has to say.

“Cut the drama,” someone yells in the small crowd. “We know you have a job for us!”

Dick hears a small laugh from the man. “I do, yes. I’ve gathered you here because I have a very simple job for the ones who are willing to take it. Tomorrow, at 1 AM, a boat will sail into this dock. I need you to unload it and put the contents in a truck. No questions. $200 each tomorrow at the beginning, $400 more when the job is done.”

Someone whistles in the crowd. “Not that I’m saying no to a night at six hundred bucks, but I have to ask… Any chance of the Bat showing up?”

“He has shown no sign that he knows or cares about our operations. If you are fast enough, which I believe you will be, you have nothing to worry about, from him or from us.”

Dick smiles. Maybe Batman isn’t on to them, but he is. And these guys have no idea what’s going to happen to them. Tomorrow at 1AM? Good thing he’s not at the bar then, he thinks, before remembering he had planned on giving the information to Batgirl and not taking care of the case by himself.

“And who is ‘us’ exactly? I’m not working for anyone!” says a tall woman in the group. He knows her, she’s been with Two-Face for a while, but he guesses it didn’t work out, or maybe she wanted to be paid a bit more than $222 a night.

“That is a good question,” the man in a suit replies, and Dick agrees. He wants to know, too. “You, ladies and gentlemen, will have the honor to work for the rising man of the underworld, the next big name of Gotham.”

“Stop it with the monologue! We’re freezing our asses out here! We want a name!” Once again, Dick agrees with a bad guy.

“You’ll have the privilege of working for Gregory Frye.”

Dick ears buzz. Thus far, his plan had been to gather information, then call Barbara and let her report to the Bat if necessary. Now, he doesn’t know what he’s going to say.

“Hey, remember the guy I told you might be a big deal but you guys told me he wasn’t and I was being obsessive? Turns out he is a big deal, but I’m a bit tired and my shoulder hurts, so could you handle that please? Thank you.”

Yeah. No fucking way.

It’s his case, Frye is his prey, and he’s going to handle this himself. Besides, if it’s just the goons that are gathered there, he can take them on his own. At least on a good day.

He’s an adult. He’s a solo vigilante. And he’s capable.

He will show them. He will show him.

October 16, 6:30 AM

Dick is still cold when he wakes up. He is also, he realizes, still in his Nightwing uniform. He probably crashed as soon as he got home, when the adrenaline receded. He changes quickly, remembering from the deep ache that he had meant to look at his shoulder.

He doesn’t really have time now, so he washes it and changes the bandage, barely bothering to look at it when he throws it away. He puts his aching head on the wall. Tonight, he stops whatever Gregory Frye is planning, and then, he will take a well-deserved rest. He feels like crap.

And maybe he should look into his heater, or maybe his insulation, he thinks as he shivers again. It’s not normal that his apartment is so cold, he should really do something about that before winter sets in. But for now, he should just go to school and hope it’s a quiet day.

October 16, 8:45 AM

The kid screams and Dick has to stop himself from wincing. If only because if he does, the child will see it as proof that his foot is actually badly injured and panic even more. Dick is pretty sure he’s screaming more out of fear than pain, or maybe to not lose face, or maybe because he thinks if he doesn’t, Dick will force him to go back to run the mile.

“It’s just a mild sprain; here, let me bandage it.”

The kid doesn’t have appropriate running shoes. He had told the parents about the importance of good shoes, but some of them don’t have the means to buy a new pair of shoes for their kids, and some outright don’t care about their children’s wellbeing.

His hands shake around the bandage. He’s fine. It’s nothing. He can do this.

And to say he wanted a quiet, easy day.

“Do you want to go to the nurse’s office?” The kid nods. “Okay,” Dick says. “Everyone else be quiet while I walk him. I will know if you behave badly.” And to the laughs, he replies, “Don’t think I won’t.”

As he starts walking, supporting the injured teen with his left shoulder, he hears the class start talking loudly. He rolls his eyes. As long as it’s just chatting, it’s fine.

October 16, 8:51 AM

“Alright, you’re all set,” he says once the kid is on a cot. “The nurse should be here any minute now. Do you need me to stay, or can I go back to class?”

The kid smiles. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr. Grayson.”

And for a second, Dick doesn’t regret forcing himself out of bed this morning.

October 16, 2:18 PM

“Mr. Grayson!”

Yeah, they don’t need to call him, he already saw, and he’s already running toward where two kids had apparently decided his class was a good place to start a fight.

“Stop it!” he screams, putting himself between the two boys. “What’s going on?!”

The other kids had gathered themselves around the two fighters, which doesn’t help him in his task. One of the teens moves, and hits him in the back shoulder, and…

He sees stars for a second. The next thing he knows, he’s on the ground, and the students have stopped fighting. Every single one of them is looking at him with horror.

“Sir? Are you okay?” a girl asks shyly, somewhere in the group.

“I barely touched him, he just fell,” says the boy who apparently pushed him. Dick blinks. Grits his teeth.

“You two,” he says to the fighters. “Principal’s office. The rest of you, go back to running.” And to the chorus of protests, he yells, “Now!”

He sees disappointment in their faces, and he can’t help some guilt from blossoming in his heart. He had never wanted to be the kind of teacher who yells at students when tired or frustrated. But he can’t help it. Right now, he is both, and hurting on top of that.

Was that how Bruce felt? Was that why he was screaming? Is he becoming like Bruce? He shakes his head. No need to think about that now. He just needs to get through the day. Finish his classes, and then find out what’s happening with the ship tonight.

October 16, 4:26 PM

“Coach? Do you want to stop the practice now?”

He blinks. Raises his head. He sat on the bench for a second and maybe spaced out for a bit. Now that there is a little sun, he feels so hot, where he couldn’t help feeling cold the night before. The girls seemed fine running, though, so he let them.

“Hm? What’s the matter, Sabrina? Aren’t you excited to be back?”

She looks uncertain. “I am, but you don’t seem well. And a friend told me you fell today.”

He does his best to smile. Even his makeup skills have their limits, it seems. “I’m okay. And I’m not the one running, so if you guys are up to it, we can start the next exercise.”

Thankfully, she lets the subject drop.

October 17, 0:32 AM

He’s had better days coursing the Gotham harbor, but he manages to find the boat fairly quickly, shortly before it docks. He climbs on it.

It doesn’t take him long to locate the crates the men had been hired to unload. He expects heroin or cocaine in it.

It’s not.

It’s Venom, he realizes with horror. Gallons of it.

Gregory Frye deals with Bane. That means Bane, who, to his knowledge, hasn’t made anyone talk about him in months, is up to something.

And if Bane is involved, he needs to let Batman know. He can do things on his own, but he won’t withhold information like this.

But for now, he needs to make sure these containers never touch shore. He could sink the ship. It would be easy enough, but not without risks for the people working on it. He studies the way the crates are tied to the ship’s wall, all while staying out of view.

He can make them fall in the water. Given their weight, recovering them would be impossible before the authorities are involved. Dick doesn’t need to fight, doesn’t want to fight. But he can slow down the operation until Gordon has been notified and a police force dispatched in the area. The crooks will run or be arrested. The Venom will be recovered and put to safety. And whatever alliance Gregory Frye thinks he can have with Bane will be weakened. For tonight, he will count that as a win.

Dick places his charges. Hides. Places some more charges. Hides again as the ship docks. Then, he jumps back into the small boat he “borrowed�� from the harbor security, dashes to the shore and grapples to the top of a building. Good.

He detonates his charges. There are some screams. He watches with satisfaction as the crates move, slide, and finally drop to the bottom of the ocean.

He smiles. Now, he just has to notify Gordon, and he will be able to go home and rest. The men will look for him, he can’t stay here, but he plans to be gone long before they get to his location.

“He’s here!” Someone screams from just under him. “It’s the Bat’s little dog!”

What?

There were more people. Frye hired goons to make a security perimeter. He didn’t think of that, and he probably should have.

One look, and he realizes this is too many people to take on his own. His plan doesn’t change. So, he’s spotted. And so, what? He can outrun them on the rooftops of Gotham any day.

He starts flying and they move with him. It soon becomes apparent that there are more pursuers after him than he first expected.

That doesn’t change anything. He was grappling on these rooftops since he was eight. Between Batman, Batgirl, and him, he always was the fastest. He’s faster than these guys. On a good day, he’s faster than Gotham’s crows, even.

Today is not a good day.

Today is not a good day, and when his right arm decides it’s done with him, suddenly and catastrophically, he barely has time to catch himself on a building with his left one.

He climbs the rest of the way. He still can get away. He’s still faster than them. He still can get away. He’s still-

There is a gun pointed at him when he reaches the rooftop. He rolls and the bullet buries itself on the roof’s concrete. The woman holding the gun curses as she reloads, and Dick thinks for a second that he will be able to grapple away from her.

That is, until something hits him in the back of the head. He didn’t see what happened, didn’t even notice another goon. Over the blur in his eyes, over the ringing in his ears, he notices the woman aiming again.

He rolls. His back is met with a void.

There is a split second when time stops. When he realizes he was at the edge of the building and the only thing that awaits him is a short trip in emptiness followed by Gotham’s asphalt.

He’s falling.

He doesn’t have time to shoot his grapple again, doesn’t have time to stop himself, but somehow, he still has time to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have rolled.

What is better? Death by gunshot or death by falling?

Who had it worse? Bruce’s parents, or his?

He doesn’t find out. Gotham’s streets don’t welcome him to crash on them. There is an impact, because a fall this fast would lead to an impact, but after it passes, he realizes he’s still alive.

He didn’t crash. Or, at least, he didn’t crash on the streets.

Something falls on him and it takes him a few seconds to realize it’s a trash bag.

A trash bag falls on him, then another, and another, and he realizes he’s disturbed a precarious equilibrium by falling on this garbage container.

“Where is he?” he hears someone ask and he holds his breath and keeps as steady as possible.

“Must have run away.” Good. The bags are hiding him. “I’m not paid enough for this…”

He lets out a breath when he hears the steps moving away. He’s not comfortable, not by a long shot, but his best chance might be to wait until the goons are gone before leaving. He closes his eyes. He’s probably concussed, not to mention whatever other injuries he could have gotten in the fall, and not to mention whatever is happening with his shoulder. But he’s alive. There was a garbage container to cushion his fall. Gotham had been kind to him.

But because it’s Gotham, and Gotham is never kind two times in a row, this is when big, heavy raindrops start falling from the sky.

He’s still buried in trash, and for an unknown amount of time, he just contemplates his situation, unable to do much more.

It’s raining.

The water droplets are making a repetitive, soothing noise against the container, and he understands why some people listen to rain to fall asleep. The sound is closer to the sound rain made on the manor’s window than it is to the one it made on the fabric of their circus tent. He liked this sound. It was so loud. He always liked to scream with the rain.

His feet, he realizes, are covered in water. The container is filling, and little pieces of trash are floating around him. Maybe he broke some bags when he fell, or maybe people put bagless trash in the container. Possibly both.

The container is filling with water. It will become like the pool in the manor, or like that lake in Croatia. Like Gotham Harbor, where Jason almost drowned what seems like an eternity ago.

The water is still rising. From where he is, half lying down in a mountain of trash, he can see his knees standing out, but he also feels the water on his belly. It’s cold, it’s so cold, and maybe he should have taken Bruce’s offer to go home, even if the situation wasn’t the same and even if home doesn’t exist anymore.

He will drown, he realizes, detached from reality. If he stays here, the water will rise, and then he will drown and die.

He doesn’t want to die. He knows that. He doesn’t know a lot, he’s still lost most of the time, he doesn’t know how to be an adult, he doesn’t know who he is and who he should be, but he knows he doesn’t want to die.

If he dies, who will jump after Jason next time he falls in the harbor? Who will help him with his math homework?

The thought surprises him. He never helped Jason with math homework, doesn’t even know if the kid needs help. He helped Sabrina, but that’s another thing.

The water is rising. He doesn’t want to die.

He needs to do something. He can’t hear a thing, so he assumes the people who were after him are long gone.

He needs to move.

He forces his body to follow his commands, but when it finally answers, he can barely push himself more than half a foot. His entire right arm is useless, and despite the pain in his head, he can still feel a stabbing agony in his shoulder. This is stupid. The wound was so small, he knows the bullet was mainly stopped by his suit. When he removed it, it had barely gone in. He should not be in that much pain.

Stupid or not, he’s not getting out of this container on his own. Time to face it. He needs help.

He pushes his left hand into the water, that is now almost at his chest, to get his communicator. Alfred gave it to him, and he did some modifications of his own. With a shaking hand, he removes the mechanism that prevents the thing from sharing his location and now…

He looks at the small screen. He needs to find Batgirl. Barbara will tease him gently, and maybe she’ll make that weird face she makes, now, when she’s remined that things aren’t the same as they have been, but she’ll help him out of the container and maybe get him to the clinic or something. She won’t judge him. She will understand, or maybe she won’t, not exactly, but she won’t judge him.

His finger moves until he gets to the right name. Batgirl. And then, he presses call. As soon as he sees the little green dot that shows the person on the other end has picked up, he says, “Hey, so um… I need help. You should be able to see my location. This is…” The water is still rising, his entire back is submerged, now. “This is pretty urgent, actually.”

“Affirmative, we see your location. We’re close. What’s your status?”

He feels his heart drop. This is not Batgirl. He didn’t call Batgirl. He was so sure of himself, but then again, the names look alike, the screen is small, and letters were dancing in front of his eyes even before he got hit in the head.

“I’m in a garbage container,” he says. He can’t help it - it’s a reflex, intuition. Batman asks a question, and he answers. “I can’t move. Water is filling it.”

He hears a sharp breath on the other end of the line. “How long until you’re under water?”

Dick looks at the water. How long? He doesn’t know, doesn’t want to think about it. But he can’t say that to Bruce, he can’t say that to Batman, and the longer he waits to answer, the more he can feel the disappointment leaking from the comm. Maybe Batman won’t come. Maybe he will leave him here. He didn’t jump after Jason, did he?

The water is rising, just his face is above it now, and maybe there are tears running down his face, but he’s not sure. He’s not sure of much, he’s hot and cold at the same time, half-awake and half-asleep, perhaps half-dead already.

There’s something burning in the back of his throat, and maybe this is tears and maybe this isn’t and he opens his mouth at the same time his stomach revolts.

October 17, Nighttime.

At least the vomit is already right where it belongs in the garbage container, he thinks grimly as he watches his pre patrol meal floating in the water. He’s still alive, and his head is still above water, so he must not have blacked out for long, but the comm is telling him to hold on, and that someone is almost at his location. That safety is almost at his location. That Batman will soon be there.

Except Batman doesn’t mean safety anymore. Batman hadn’t meant safety in a while, now. Why is there still part of him that holds on to that? Why is he still expecting Bruce to show up and fix everything, even if he knows it won’t be the case? Bruce can’t fix Bruce, unfortunately. Or maybe only Bruce can fix Bruce, but he won’t do it.

One of the bags moves and suddenly there is light and maybe it’s day, but it’s not. It can’t be. It’s just a streetlight, lighting up a yellow cape.

“He’s here,” someone screams above him, and this is not safety, this is something else. This is hope. This is what Robin is, what he always has been.

He smiles, because he should smile, because Jason deserves a smile, Jason can’t carry the burden of being hope all alone on his little shoulders.

Jason smiles back. “I found you,” he says, and Dick wants to reply something, but at that moment, a shadow stands next to Jason.

The shadow is not safety. It’s not hope, either. Right now, it’s nothing but shame.

He’s suddenly reminded of his own situation. He’s stuck in a garbage container, covered in waste, rainwater, and vomit. Even Jason, who he thought had lost all sense of disgust, seems to find him a bit disgusting.

“Help me get him out,” Batman orders, and he plunges his arms in dirty water. One of them goes behind Dick’s neck, and it’s so gentle Dick almost forgets everything else. But then, Batman pulls him out and his head, his shoulder, his entire body explodes.

He screams, or he thinks he screams, maybe he throws up again. He can’t be sure.

October 17, Nighttime.

He blinks. He’s in the Batmobile. “Dick,” Batman says and names and who is driving the car? “I need to know what’s wrong with you.”

Dick almost laughs. What is wrong with him? He’s not up to the task. He’s not fulfilling Batman’s expectations. He wanted to be a hero on his own, he really did, but all he did was mess up. Being an adult is so hard. He’s all alone and he’s so lonely. He wants safety and he wants hope, but neither are accessible, so he tries to be both, for the kids at school, for Gotham’s citizens, for everyone, and somehow, there seems to be nothing left for him.

He doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t know who he should be, who Nightwing should be, who Dick Grayson should be.

He doesn’t know where he stands with Barbara. He thinks they’re still friends - surely their bond can’t be broken so easily - but sometimes she looks at him with the kind of eyes that say she also wants to fix things, but doesn’t know how. He doesn’t even know where to start; he knows something is broken, but he can’t figure out what.

He wants to know Jason, he does, but Robin is in the way, and he doesn’t know how to stop feeling that way.

Sometimes he wants to run away from Bruce and never hear from him ever again, but sometimes all he wants is to be near him. He doesn’t want to go back to the way things were before, but the awful sting of nostalgia attacks him when he least expects it. He’s lost, he’s so lost, and so cold.

He can’t do this. He tries, he really tries, but his kingdom is a fortress made of cards and the slightest rustle of wind can make it fall to the ground. And the wind blew a little too strongly, and he fell, he fell in a garbage container, and he wanted someone to save him, he really did.

But now he’s out, and he still doesn’t feel better.

But this is not what Bruce is asking. Bruce doesn’t ask that kind of thing. It’s irrelevant to him. This is not the answer Bruce expects, and Dick is tired of not being what Bruce expects, so he tells him, “Concussion.”

Bruce makes a face, his lips a thin line. Dick thinks maybe he should laugh, but he doesn’t really want to.

“There has to be something else. Concussion wouldn’t give you a high fever. Are you at risk of going into septic shock?”

Dick opens his mouth. Closes it. What is Bruce talking about?

“He was injured,” Jason says from the front seat and is Jason driving the car? “When he got me from the harbor, he got shot in the back shoulder, right side.”

Bruce moves him, and maybe Dick whines a little, but then his uniform is torn, and part of him remembers it’s his last one, part of him thinks it was ruined anyway and part of him wants to be upset with Bruce just because he can.

And then Bruce makes another face, like he, too, doesn’t know what to do when he sees Dick’s shoulder, and this time, Dick laughs.

“What’s the matter?” he says weakly, and his head lolls to the side. “Gonna fire me again?” He was injured in the right shoulder back then, too.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Batman orders, and Dick wants to reply something snarky about not taking orders from him, but he doesn’t think he does.

October 17, Nighttime.

“Why am I naked?”

Maybe this is not the most important question he should be asking, but it’s the one he asks. His Nightwing uniform is gone. He’s in the cave, probably, he thinks.

Robin is here.

Suddenly, a big wall of cold falls on him. Water, he realizes. He gasps and looks at Robin in a way he hopes will make it stop.

“Because you need a shower. We’ve been through this.”

Did they?

“But why?”

Jason looks very done with this situation. “Because you’ve bathed in trash, and you need to be at least a bit clean before Alfred operates on you.”

Operates? What? He blinks. He’s in the shower of the cave.

“You know you can heat this water, right?”

“I know.”

“Then why is it so cold?”

“It’s not,” Jason bats away Dick’s left hand when he tries to reach for the thermostat. He can’t feel his right one, and maybe he should be more worried about this than he is. “Stop it. Alfred said to use lukewarm water.”

Dick gives him a look he hopes is scary. “Lukewarm, not straight out of a glacier in Alaska.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Apparently, his look is not scary. It might be related to the fact that he’s naked, sitting in a shower, shivering and unable to move. “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Lukewarm water. You’re feverish, it’s supposed to help. And it does, because this is the most coherent I’ve seen you since we’ve found you.”

Dick would love to agree, really. But the cave is slowly moving in front of his eyes, darkness creeping at the edge of his vision. He doesn’t want to fall asleep, doesn’t want to leave Jason alone, because Jason shouldn’t be the one who has to take care of him. He’s so young, still, and yet he has to be Robin.

Dick was Robin at younger age, says a voice in his head, but it wasn’t the same. When he was a kid, Robin was him. Nowadays, Robin is just a pile of expectations.

“I’m sorry, Jay.”

Jason clicks his tongue. “It’s not your fault. I don’t know why B said that.”

Dick wonders for a second what B did say, but the darkness creeps closer, his head grows heavier, and he says, “No. I’m sorry I’m gonna pass out.”

Jason’s eyes open, and maybe he says something like, “No, wait-” But Dick doesn’t wait.

October 17, Nighttime?

In his dream, Batman is kind. In his dream, there is a hand on his forehead, gently pushing away strands of dirty hair, and he feels the leather on his skin, and it feels good.

In his dream, he’s a child again, hiding under the covers, and there is rain falling on the windows of the manor. It makes a repetitive sound, and it feels nice. He’s in the trailer with his parents.

There is a child giggling, and it takes him a second to realize it’s him, or maybe it’s Robin, but these two things haven’t been so different until not too long ago, have they?

He gets out in the corridor, and the walls of the manor shift and he’s falling between the tall buildings of Gotham’s streets. Above, or maybe it’s below him, someone holds their hand out to him, their face twisted in horror. It takes him a while to realize it’s his mother. Had her face always looked like this? Had he forgotten what she looked like?

He lands in a trash container, but maybe it’s a lake in Croatia, the sun beaming on strands of grass, and maybe it’s Gotham’s harbor.

He tries to swim to the shore, but the shore keeps getting away from him.

“Shh,” Batman says. “Relax, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

And then, Batman pushes his head under the water.

Above the sound of the water in his ears, Dick (if that’s still who he is) can hear him say that it’s for the best, that he never needed a partner in the first place.

He wants to ask what it means in regard to Jason, but Batman disappears before he can answer. Dick is left floating in a dark water that doesn’t look like the lake’s at all.

He’s so cold, and so alone.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, in the water. He’s not dead, but he’s not exactly alive, either. Above the surface, there is maybe the ceiling of the cave, and faces looking at him, but it’s all too indistinct.

That is, until a voice calls him from below. He swims down, and down again, to see Robin. As he gets closer, he realizes this Robin is Jason. He screams his name, and Jason screams back.

Jason can’t swim. He’s drowning. He needs to get to him, he needs to save Jason, and why is Batman staying at the surface of the water? Can’t he see that Jason needs help? Why wouldn’t he help Jason? Why wouldn’t he help Robin?

Batman fired Dick because he didn’t need a partner, a liability he wouldn’t be able to protect. What does that mean for Jason?

Jason screams for help, he screams over and over again, “Help me, help me, help me!” and Dick tries, he really does, but the water is so heavy, and he’s drowning, as well.

That is, until a force pulls him out of the water. He extends his hand, tries to reach Jason, but he doesn’t know if he succeeds. He doesn’t think he does.

He’s in a white room, still drenched. “Why didn’t you save me?” someone asks, and Dick turns to see Jason, most of his bones broken, covered in blood, uniform torn. “Why didn’t you save me?” he repeats.

“Jason, I-”

“Who is Jason?” Robin asks, and he’s in front of a mirror. This Robin is taller, holding his bloodied right shoulder.

He looks so young. Not a child anymore, but not yet ready to be an adult.

“Why didn’t you save me?” Robin asks again. And Dick doesn’t know what the answer is.

October 17, Daytime

Dick wakes up covered in sweat. It’s not the dark water from his dream, he tries to remind himself. It’s sweat. Jason, and Batman before him, had said something about a fever.

His right arm is immobilized in a sling, and he feels some sort of relief when he realizes he can still move his fingers. There are bandages around his head and an IV line poking out of his left elbow. He’s in the room he used to sleep in when he lived in the manor. He carefully forms the idea in his mind. This is not his room. This is the room he used to sleep in when he lived in the manor.

The blinds have been closed, but he can still see a ray of sunlight coming in thought the window. It must be around midday. He’s in the manor.

He’s in the manor.

He slowly takes the covers off of his body and immediately shivers. The manor tends to be cold in fall, and his pajamas (he tries not to think too much about the fact that there were still pajamas his size here) don’t protect him much when they are this wet.

He sneezes. “Do you want to go home?” Batman had asked the last time he was like this, wet and cold. And he is, except it doesn’t feel like home, not really. It’s a mess of memories and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He’s in the manor. Batman saved his life. He has to deal with the consequences now. He sneezes again and despite probably being on painkillers, it makes his head hurt. He sniffs. He probably looks miserable. And pathetic, a voice in his head reminds him. Not even able to take care of himself.

He bites his lip. He needs to get a grip on himself. He sniffs again. Okay. Right now, getting a grip on himself probably means getting some tissues. If he remembers well, and he hates that he remembers well, there should be some in the built-in bathroom. He just needs to stand up, walk in the bathroom, and get some tissues. He’s got this.

He slowly gets his foot out of the bed, still shivering in the cold. Maybe he should see if there are some other clothes he could put on, as well. Once he’s sitting up, he takes a deep breath. He can do this.

A voice in his head still tells him he’s pathetic. He stands up, using his left hand to hold the IV pole. It’s just a few steps. He takes one step, head swimming, legs shaking, but he can do this. He takes a second step, then another, then another, until he’s in the bathroom. Now, he just needs to bend down to retrieve the tissue box from the cupboard below the sink. He just needs to slowly bend his knees, and-

He barely has the time to grip himself to the sink so he can sit down instead of falling down. Then, he just stays there, shivering on the cold tiles, still with no tissues, watching as the tube of the fallen IV pole starts to fill up with his own blood. He’s pathetic, he’s pathetic, he’s-

“You’re pathetic.”

This isn’t a voice in his head. He looks up to see Jason next to the door, in civilian clothes, and part of him tries to remember if he’d ever seen Jason in anything other than a Robin uniform, but part of him tries to forget the bloody, broken Jason he saw in his dream.

It was just a nightmare, a vision of his anxiety born from infection and head trauma. It wasn’t- He never had prophetic dreams. Having occasional nightmares of your parents falling is a normal thing when your parents are defying gravity every night. And it never happened since.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asks instead of focusing on the vision.

Jason makes the lollipop in his mouth do a swirl. “Newsflash, Bird Brain. There’s no school on the weekend.”

Despite himself, Dick finds himself smirking. “Nice try, kid, but it’s Friday.”

Jason blinks. “It’s Saturday, Dick. You’ve been in and out an entire day and half.”

Dick wants to joke, to tell Jason he doesn’t fall for his bluff. But something on Jason’s face makes him think he’s saying the truth. Dick lost an entire day and half. Fuck.

October 17, October 18, 1:47 PM

“Does Alfred know you’re eating sweets in the middle of the day?” Dick asks instead of focusing on the day he doesn’t remember. He just wants the look on Jason’s face to be gone.

“Does Alfred know you’re on your bathroom’s floor, destroying all the nice work he did with that IV?” Jason asks in return.

Dick smiles. Mission accomplished. “Touché. Come on, kid, help me up,” he says before sneezing twice. Come to think of it, he still doesn’t have the tissues he came for in the first place.

Jason raises an eyebrow and makes no move to enter the room.

“Might be allergies,” Dick suggests. He doubts it. Between the school and the bar, he falls sick every time his body shows a little weakness, nowadays. Even without the infection, it was only a matter of time.

“I doubt it,” Jason says, echoing his thoughts as he finally enters the room. “Alfred had been cleaning this room almost every day. There is no trace of dust of any kind in here.”

Dick doesn’t know how he feels about that. Alfred had been cleaning this room, his old room, almost every day. For what? Dick knows he doesn’t show the same care for all the empty rooms in the manor, only cleaning them once in a while. He was gone. There was no need to clean this room, unless Alfred expected him to come back anytime.

Part of him wants to be upset, to see it as proof that Alfred didn’t trust him to manage on his own, but part of him sees it as the mark of affection it is. Whenever he needed a room, this one would be ready.

“I think,” Jason says as he puts the IV vertical again. “You’re an idiot who managed to catch a cold on top of it all.”

“Maybe,” Dick grunts as Jason helps him up and they start walking back toward the bed. “This wouldn’t have happened if someone hadn’t decided to give me a shower with ice cold water.”

Jason lets out a dramatic sigh as he puts him on the bed. “It was lukewarm. And, wait, you remember that!”

Dick puts the cover back on himself. He still needs to change out of this pajama. “Yeah, not much else, though.”

“You passed out on me! I had to call B to bring you back to the cave!”

Dick laughs a bit at how offended Jason looks. “Come on, it happens, I’m not the last person who will do that to you, and you’ll do it too, if you stay in the business.” The thought immediately sobers him up. Jason had been lucky, the other day, to be okay, after he fell in the harbor. He might not be as okay every day. Bruce is right on that point. What they do is dangerous. Being Robin is dangerous.

He sniffs again and feels a bit stupid. “Jay, sorry to interrupt the moment, but could you get some tissues from the bathroom?”

“I’m not your maid,” Jason replies immediately, but he gets up from where he’s sitting on the bed and a few seconds later, a box of tissues falls on Dick. He takes one and finally blows his nose.

“Do you want me to get Alfred?” Jason asks.

Dick blinks. “Maybe, did he ask to know if I’m awake?” He shivers again. “I need to change, maybe take a shower, and I don’t trust you to help me. I want warm water.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You are never going to let that go, are you?”

Dick smiles. “No,” he says.

Jason lets out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I should have known that signing up for a big brother was signing up for him to hold grudges,” he says before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Dick looks at the door for a long time. He had never thought of putting a name on his relationship with Jason. If the kid wants to call him his brother, then so be it. He doesn’t know what it means, he doesn’t know what it should mean. He’s too tired to figure it out.

October 18, 3:11 PM

“Did Master Jason tell you what happened?” Alfred asks as he shines a penlight in his eyes. Dick is sitting on the bed in a clean, but similar to the previous ones, pairs of pajamas. He doesn’t ask Alfred why they still have clothes in his size, when he’s bigger than Alfred and Jason but smaller than Bruce. He guesses it’s for the same reason the room had been kept clean, and if he thinks about it too much, he’s never going to be able to leave. And he knows he has to leave. Alfred knows it too, and that’s probably why he doesn’t talk about it, either.

“Sort of,” he answers. “My shoulder got infected?”

Alfred nods. “Indeed. It seems like some bacteria from the harbor managed to get in. You are lucky Master Bruce and Jason found you when they did.”

Dick looks away in shame. “I cleaned it, I swear I did.”

Alfred puts back the penlight and runs a hand in his hair. “My dear boy, I have no doubt you did. But sometimes luck just isn’t on our side. Next time, maybe try to call for help before you’re one step away from septicemia.”

Dick is suddenly upset. There is a reason he didn’t immediately call for help when he started feeling bad, and Alfred knows it. He doesn’t like the way the butler talks like it’s all his fault, that of course, he should have known cleaning the wound wasn’t enough, that maybe he didn’t clean it properly in the first place.

But he doesn’t want to fight with Alfred. Fighting with Alfred is always harder than fighting with Bruce. So, he just lets himself fall back on the bed and asks, “Can I sleep for a bit? I’m really tired.”

Alfred makes a face that tells Dick he doesn’t fall for the lie, but he says, “Of course. You need all the rest you can get.” Then he gets up, closes the blinds back again, takes the leftovers from the food Dick barely managed to swallow, and leaves.

All alone, Dick looks at the door again, like he expects it to open. Jason came. Alfred came.

Bruce didn’t.

He’s probably busy. He might have been there for the day and half Dick doesn’t remember. Maybe he knows if he walks through that door, they will fight, and he doesn’t want that. Dick doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t want to fight with Bruce, but he doesn’t like that Bruce didn’t come.

He blinks. One second, he thinks he will never be able to fall asleep; the next, he’s drifting away.

October 18, 6:31 PM

“-not a hand, nor a foot, nor an arm, nor a face, nor any other concrete part of the body. Oh, be some other name! What’s in a name? A rose would smell just as sweet if we called it by any other name. Romeo, if he had a different name besides “Romeo,” would be just as perfect as he is with that name now. Romeo, take off your name, and in exchange for that superficial part of you, take all of me.”

Dick blinks. What is going on in this room? Jason, sitting on the bed, takes a breath as Dick imagines he’s thinking of the reply he’s supposed to get, before continuing, “Who is this man who’s hiding in the night and overhearing my private thoughts?”

He puts so many feelings in the part Dick doesn’t really want to interrupt him. Jason waits a bit more before saying, “I haven’t even heard that tongue speak a hundred words, but I recognize the voice. Aren’t you Romeo, and a Montague?”

Dick sneezes, as quietly as he can, but Jason still turns. “You’re awake,” he says.

“Please don’t mind me.”

Jason shakes his head. “No, It’s… I was finished.”

Dick hums. “English wasn’t my favorite subject, but I don’t think that’s the end of that scene.”

To this, Jason blushes. “That’s- I said I’m finished!”

Dick decides to tease him a bit more. Isn’t that what big brothers are for? If Jason wants to call him that, he has to live up to it.

“So, who is playing Romeo?”

“Amy, from my English class. We thought it would be nice to switch gender between the characters and actors.”

Dick nods. “It is nice, and you’ll be a good Juliet.”

Jason becomes even redder. “Don’t tease me!”

Dick smiles. “I’m not, that was good acting. Tomorrow, if I’m cleared up to read, I can give you the Romeo lines if you want to practice.” He doesn’t know why he offers that. He’s never been particularly good at acting, despite how comfortable he is on a scene. Maybe he should have told Jason to go ask Alfred, who was an actor, once, or so he says. Or maybe he should have asked him to invite that Amy girl in, so they could practice together.

But Jason’s face lights up, and suddenly, Dick doesn’t regret offering. The kid then blushes some more and stands up. “I’m going to get dinner,” he says. “Do you want me to bring something up?” He doesn’t wait for the answer before he’s gone.

October 18, 7:45 PM

“More homework?” Dick asks when Jason comes back in the room, a notebook in hand. He’s slowly munching the food Alfred ended up bringing him.

“Yeah,” the kid answers. “I want it to be all done before tomorrow.”

Dick raises an eyebrow. “Why? What happens tomorrow?”

Jason doesn’t look at him. “I was thinking maybe you would feel better,” he says very fast.

Dick feels his heart sink. He’s been more or less sleeping all day, yet he still feels tired, Alfred had mentioned nothing about removing the IV, and the new pajamas are already drenched in sweat. Not to mention the pain in his head and shoulder every time the painkillers recede. “Jay, I don’t think I’ll be able to teach you acrobatics tomorrow.” The kid has mentioned it once or twice, so that’s what he must want, right? That’s one thing Dick is confident in.

“What? No, I’m not talking about acrobatics, just, you know. Hang out. You could give me the Romeo lines.”

Dick just falls back into the bed. “I would like that, yeah.” His eyes linger on the door. He doesn’t ask where Bruce is.

“Maybe I could help you,” he says after a time, “with your homework, I mean. I’m pretty good at math.”

Jason looks at him with big eyes. “I don’t need help in math, I’m on the top of my class,” he says, and Dick can’t help but feel some sort of weird disappointment. It’s good, right? He should be happy Jason isn’t struggling academically. Yet, this cancels the fantasy he had about helping him. “Besides,” Jason adds, “this is biology.”

The kid then turns toward him, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Though, maybe you can help me. This part is about the immune system. So, what are the signs of infection?”

Dick tosses him a used tissue that Jason dodges easily. “That’s what I get for being nice to you,” he says, burying his head beneath the covers.

Jason just laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound.

October 19, 00:54 AM

He’s alone when he wakes up. One look at the time, and he guesses why. Batman and Robin are probably out. Alfred is otherwise busy.

He gets up, and a voice in his head tells him that no one will be here to pick him up if he falls again. But maybe that’s what it means to be an adult, right? Picking yourself up when you fall to the ground.

He goes to the window and opens the curtains. Absurdly, he almost expects to see stars. But this is Gotham, and a heavy mantle of clouds is hiding the sky. He doesn’t see Batman and Robin, not that he was expecting to.

He stays there a while, like he’s waiting for something. He shivers. He’s so tired of being cold, yet he doesn’t know if he can change out of his sweat covered clothes on his own, and he doesn’t want to ask for help. Besides, he will feel too hot again in a moment.

His legs threaten to give out, and he sits back on the bed. He doesn’t take his eyes off the window.

October 19, 02:36 AM

He sees them. He’d taken the covers to put them on while staying near the window, half too hot, half too cold. He’s wondering if maybe the fever is rising despite whatever it is that Alfred put in the IV when he sees them.

They are coursing the sky, as majestic as they can be, and he understands why Gotham inhabitants admire Batman and Robin. It’s spectacular.

And then, they disappear, probably to go in the cave, and Dick tears out his gaze from the window to puts it back on the door.

Batman never comes to check on him.

October 19, 9:35 AM

“If food isn’t an issue, it might be more comfortable for you to switch to oral medications,” Alfred says, when he notices Dick ate most of the breakfast he had made for him.

Dick smiles, even if it’s forced. “Thank you, Al,” he says, holding out his arm for Alfred to remove the IV. It would be more comfortable indeed.

“Turn down,” the Butler orders, “I just need to check your back.”

Dick obeys, and lets Alfred work in silence for a short while before finally finding the courage to ask, “Does he know? About Frye, and Bane?”

He doesn’t have to explain who “he” is. If Bruce won’t come to him, he will get information to him in an indirect way, and that means Alfred.

The butler’s hands freeze for a second where they’re bandaging his shoulder before resuming work. Alfred’s voice is almost too neutral when he asks, “You don’t remember telling him?”

Dick shakes his head slowly. “You told him as soon as Master Jason and he brought you back to the cave. But you were in bad shape, so it’s no surprise you don’t remember.”

Dick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. At least this conversation, and the way Batman reacted to it, has passed. And, hey. What he doesn’t remember can’t hurt him, right?

“I don’t know why B said that,” Jason had told, but he’s too scared to ask what was actually said. He especially doesn’t want to drag Jason into that. Jason has been between them enough. Jason has suffered enough.

October 19, 11:07 AM

“Why must you make me suffer in this way?”

Dick laughs as he gathers the cards. “That looks like a third win for me.”

Jason looks at him with an outraged face. “You’re cheating,” he says.

Dick just laughs again, only to end up with him coughing. “Jay, how could I cheat?”

“I don’t know, you’re reading my face or something!”

“Oh, that’s not cheating,” Dick says as he deals the cards. “That’s just how you play Old Maid.”

Jason pouts, and when he loses again, he says. “I want to play another game.”

“Did you know,” Dick says, “In France, this game is named le pouilleux. The flea-ridden. The one no one wants.”

Jason looks at the lone queen in his hand. “The flea-ridden one no one wants, hmm,” he says. And his face twists in something so sad, like he feels bad for the card, like he understands, it makes Dick immediately regret he said anything.

“Let me teach you how to make a card castle,” he says suddenly. “This is a valuable skill you’ll need all your life.”

Jason snorts, and at least he doesn’t have that look on his face anymore. “How so?”

“To impress people at school. But I can’t do it one handed.” Not to mention, he probably still shakes too much. “Gather the cards.”

“And then you help me with the scene? You promised.”

Dick didn’t promise anything, but he nods. “Yeah, but first let’s make a castle.”

Jason starts to work. His hands are hesitant at first, but he’s crafty and meticulous, and soon, he gets the first row done.

“We could say there’s a balcony right here,” Dick says. “To put a little Juliet on it.”

The cards fall on the table. “No,” Jason objects. “I don’t want her to fall.”

Dick almost chokes. “You don’t want her to fall? Jay, you do know how this story ends, right?”

“I know,” Jason says, starting the card castle again. “But all we have to practice for class is the balcony scene. Everyone, in duo, playing the balcony scene over and over again. And you know, it’s like they’re stuck on the balcony. And they never reach Act Five.”

Dick thinks about it for a second. “I think it’s a little sad,” he says. “That they’re stuck. That they can’t keep moving.”

“Even if it’s to move toward, you know,” he makes a move that leaves no uncertainty as to what he implies. “Act Five?”

The castle falls again. Jason grunts. “It’s so frustrating. Can’t we tape this stuff?”

Dick laughs, but his heart is not in it. “No, that destroys the point. The point is for it to be difficult.”

“Why? Why must we do things the difficult way?”

“Because otherwise, it’s cheating. Otherwise, it’s lying. And you can’t keep pretending forever.”

He tried to build his own card castle. He did it, even if it was unstable. He will do it again. And again, and again, until either the castle holds on its own, or… Act Five.

“I’m trying again,” Jason says. “I’m trying as many times as needed. It will hold. And if it doesn’t, I don’t care. I’m taping it.”

October 20, 0:07 AM

He watched Jason struggle with the card castle, and then helped him practice the balcony scene over and over again (they’re stuck, they’re stuck, they’re stuck on a balcony that doesn’t exist). He’s exhausted, and yet he can’t sleep.

The manor is his own balcony. He might think he’s safe, but he’s not, and it’s a lie. If it wasn’t a lie, Bruce would have come to see him by now. If it wasn’t a lie, he would have had the courage to go look for him. It’s a lie, and he has to get out. As soon as he can move properly again, he will get out. Get away. Get back to his own life. And maybe he can try to have something with Jason, but it won’t happen in the manor.

But he’s not Juliet, he’s not Romeo. He’s not moving toward Act Five. He’s a Flying Grayson. He’s moving toward freedom.

He has to convince himself of that.

He can’t tape his card castle, he’s just going to have to make it hold.

October 20, 1:32 PM

Dick is bored. He supposes that Jason is back in school, and no one is coming into the room. He could go down, he could move, now that he doesn’t feel like he’s going to fall over any time, but there is something that makes him stay there, in the relative security of his room. He already established that Bruce wouldn’t be seeing him, so if he wants to see Bruce, he’s going to have to take the first step.

The thing is, he’s tired of taking the first step, of filling in the gaps, of trying to understand Bruce. He’s tired of what Bruce means to him, of how much he means to him.

He’s tired. And he wants to go home, but he doesn’t know where that is, or what that is, exactly.

So, he just stays there. This is not that different from the dream, after all. He’s in a middle ground. Stuck in between things.

And he waits. He doesn’t know what for, exactly. Maybe he waits in hopes that one day, all of this will make any kind of sense. Maybe he waits for Act Five. Maybe he just waits for Jason to come home.

October 20, 5:18 PM

There is something, joy, a drop of pride maybe, that lightens up in him when he realizes his room is the first place Jason goes when he gets home.

“How did the scene go?” His voice cracks a little on the words, and he has to clear his throat. Serves him right for barely talking all day.

“Amazing,” Jason says, “Everyone clapped, and the teacher asked us if maybe we wanted to join the drama club.”

Dick smiles. “And? Do you want to?”

Jason stops right on his tracks. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe? I have to think of how much time it will take, considering, you know, my other activities.”

“I think you should,” Dick says. “It’s good to have something else. It’s important to have a life.”

Doesn’t he know it? He had nothing outside Robin. All his friends were vigilantism related. When Robin disappeared, he was left hanging on thin air with no rope.

He sneezes and Jason seems to take it as an opportunity to escape the conversation. “Are you still sick?” he asks.

Dick blows his nose. “I guess my body is busier with the infection than it is with fighting a cold.”

Jason hums and sits down on the bed. “Maybe it’s the flu,” he says.

“Where is that coming from?”

Jason shrugs. “I don’t know, you’ve been looking and feeling shittier than you would have been with a cold, and tons of people have been having the flu recently. Lot of kids were missing at school because of it.”

Dick looks at him with big eyes. Jason raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“And you didn’t think of telling me that before you hung out with me all weekend?”

“Relax, it’s not people I hang out with, and I haven’t been feeling sick. I just meant, maybe it’s the case for your students as well.”

Dick wants to reply something like the fact that he hadn’t been feeling sick means nothing, but something on Jason’s face makes him stop. “I don’t have the flu,” he just says. He hopes he doesn’t, because that would mean more time at the manor, and he wants to be gone as soon as possible. “I’m just feeling shitty because of the infection.”

And just because he can, he grins and says, “Though, the hypothermia by shower sure didn’t help.”

He expects Jason to say something about being dramatic because he is being dramatic, but the kid just looks at the ground.

“Jason?”

Jason blinks. “Hypothermia by shower? Aren’t you being a bit-”

“What is it? What’s going on?” Dick asks, because it’s too late now, Jason won’t be able to cover that something is wrong.

The kid sighs. “You were almost dead when we found you.”

“Almost dead? Look who’s being dramatic now.”

Jason raises his eyes quickly to face him. “Don’t joke about this! How can you be so calm?”

Dick wants to tell him that this is part of the job, that he knew this was a possibility, and that Jason should know that, too, but something prevents him from doing so. Instead, he says, “I’ll be okay. And you found me.” And he won’t stop. He can’t stop.

“And,” Jason continues, “You’ve been joking about how it’s my fault, but you’re leaving out the fact that it is.”

Huh? “What? Jay, what are you talking about?”

“The bacteria came from Gotham harbor. You jumped in to save me and got injured when you jumped. You wouldn’t have gotten a concussion if you were operating at top capacity. Don’t try to deny it, I know it’s true.”

Dick blinks. Does Jason think that? Does he really think it’s his fault? “I don’t know what B told you-”

“He didn’t tell me anything!” Jason seems maybe a little too defensive. “He didn’t tell me anything. I mean, when we went back from the harbor last Monday, after Alfred checked me up, he made me write a report on what I did wrong and how to fix it and we designed a new training regimen to improve my swimming but the night we found you, he told you, well, that. And then he told me-” Jason stops to take his breath. He looks like he’s one step away from crying. “And then he told me ‘good job finding him’.”

Dick nods. “It was a good job, you probably saved me. I saved you, you saved me, we’re even.” Something poisonous makes its way into Dick’s mind, and he can’t help but add, “So, if you were hanging out with me out of guilt, you can stop, now.”

It’s Jason’s turn to look at him with big eyes. “What? No!”

“What’s with the big brother game, then?” He thought… He wanted to have that relationship with Jason, and when Jason called him his big brother, he felt… something. But part of him still feels as if Jason was mocking him. His place in this family is on a precarious equilibrium, and Jason’s word choices feel like tape on a card castle. Cheating. Forcefully trying to hold together something that is not meant to hold.

“I’ll stop,” Jason says, “If you don’t like it, I can stop saying it. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I’ve been alone most of my life. The ‘flea-ridden’, how do you say it?”

“Le pouilleux… Listen, Jay, I-”

“And you call me ‘Jay’, and you saved me. And sometimes, when I was all alone and hungry, I wished I had a big brother, but maybe this is stupid, and-”

Dick doesn’t wait for him to finish. He reaches out and takes the kid in his arms. He hears Jason hiccup. “I’ve had nightmares of that night at the harbor. I still do, honestly. That, and the night we found you,” he confesses in a whisper.

Dick holds him tighter. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Jason shakes his head on his shoulder. “I understand, I think I understand how B can be. But you have my number. Next time, if you feel overwhelmed, if you need help, you could call me?”

Dick doesn’t want to say he won’t burden a child with his issues, so he just says. “I will.”

They stay like that for a while, until Jason calms down a little, and says, “If I’m a carrier of the flu and you get it, I don’t want to hear you complain.”

Dick just laughs. He doesn’t let him go.

“Brat.”

October 21, 2:29 AM

The noise in the manor doesn’t wake Dick up, per se, because he was already awake, but he had learned to recognize it. Batman is back from patrol.

He waits a bit, eyes open. He knows for a fact his door won’t open. Not unless he opens it himself. The question is: does he want to open it? Is he ready to open it?

He wasn’t ready for anything in his life. He wasn’t ready to lose his parents, he wasn’t ready to become Robin, he wasn’t for Robin to be taken away from him, he’s not ready to become Nightwing, and he’s not ready to become an adult.

He gets out of the bed and opens the door.

His bare feet are silent on the floor as he progresses through the manor. He walks, almost automatically, toward the grandfather clock. He doesn’t think about Bruce, about what is behind that door. About why he’s even going to see Bruce instead of just leaving.

When he opens the door, Bruce is working on the computer. He doesn’t turn, but Dick knows he heard him. There is no sign of Jason. He stays there, behind Batman’s back, for what seems like an eternity, but can’t be longer than a minute, until Batman says, “You shouldn’t be barefoot in the cave.”

And that’s it. Anger is easier to feel than whatever Dick was feeling before. And after the week he had, he could do with something easy.

“Why?” he asks, taking a step toward the computer, “Because I might step on a rusty nail and get an infection?”

He sneezes, and the next second, Batman is in front of him. Taller, always taller than him in a way that is upsetting. “No,” he says, not taking the bait. “Because of this.” And before Dick knows it, the cape is on his shoulders, like Bruce did for Jason a week ago. Kindness, like the Batman from Dick’s dream, that might or might not have a part of truth in it. “Jason says you might have the flu.”

Dick huffs. He should maybe take the offered olive branch, tell a joke about Jason over exaggerating and making up things. Or maybe he should be angry, tell Batman he’s not a child who needs to be taken care of.

“Why,” he hears his mouth ask instead, like a spectator in his own body, “didn’t you save him?”

Batman gives him a confused look. He swallows. “Last week, when he fell in the harbor. Why didn’t you jump after him?”

Bruce stays silent a second more before saying, “You were already there, you jumped almost immediately after he fell.”

Dick blinks. “So, you trust me with his life?” But not with mine, stays unsaid.

Bruce understands it anyway. “I meant what I said in the cave,” he says, and Dick still has no memory of what was actually said. “But still, I’m glad you called us. It was the right thing to do.”

It was a mistake, Dick doesn’t say, because it was a mistake, but Bruce might take it the other way. And Dick doesn’t know how much it was a mistake. Maybe it was. Maybe this entire thing was a mistake.

I should never have had a partner in the first place.

He takes a step back. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he says. “Don’t try to stop me.”

And yet, part of him for Bruce to reach out, for Batman to stop him.

But Batman doesn’t move, and Bruce’s eyes silently watch him as he puts the cape on a chair and goes away.

The only thing that stops him from hotwiring a car right here right now and getting away – somewhere, anywhere – is the idea of Jason being left alone without a goodbye.

October 21, 5:35 PM

“So, you’re leaving?”

He hadn’t seen Bruce all day, and Alfred had tried to tell him to stay a bit more, but the butler knows this is a lost fight. Dick still promised to send him updates.

Jason seems disappointed, but Dick can’t stay. After the conversation with Bruce, he physically can’t.

“Sorry Jay, I have to go back to my adult life.” Leslie and Alfred arranged for him to be gone from both his jobs a bit longer, but Jason doesn’t need to hear that. “But, um, the offer goes both ways.”

Jason tilts his head. “The offer?”

“You have my number. If you feel overwhelmed, if you think you need help… Call me.”

#dc #batfam #fanfiction #my writing #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #hurt/comfort #hurt dick grayson #dick grayson whump #robin jason todd

0 notes

libidomechanica · 10 months ago

Text

For I am black memory:

A sonnet sequence

It said, curse of the west, or the skeletons. For I am black memory: but this huckster put down with our spirit’s light to new world when thither, and I then no crime. Well exprest, nor thy I weep for Ajax, Juan perhaps mighty heart had three living is head upon his tenderness and her their bloody disembark’d, push’d an understand in talcum on there in with Heaven, nancy, Nancy? Of Joy and mounts his idea, which the Lords will plucks that if he could not while our old like type of gore. Loftier state; but see that words not see how frail Form, and to guess, not be happy?

To see grave among that for a year; Hey, roses was, that needs must we call my color and flow even my dreary moorland did begins the Fire? Her very body who blushes like an evil ear, for which bears and turbans. I love, no truths divide whiskers, all walls mould really pour’d breath or two year it only Friends as briefly all its foot more a feast: ev’n thou think of variety, like the time to look, as oaks blow which in memory witch, speak Stay yet another’s flow,—no, nor ruled, not let Heav’n, I weep again, and cast perusalem, the fled from my chastity retiring.

And beauty and her cheek the realm in tone. To me new trickling coarse to be thyself to be the regardens. From the riches rancke? Still strong married the sweet that I promise, as under what cannot what caren as the shrunk shuddering hand, addressing some coxcombs bloodshot eyes more, till her white finger on there rings thee briefly did keepen all may do. It said, thy plainly throngs of sunsets, blazing summer drank; and bets upon the distresse, and thrift hour but even to the died, but Juan might be corruption gave but between sea as mere cold how silence so call the mourn our lives are done?

Unto his tumult shakes full of verse, my dove, must given to knows now, flash the world, baring the sounding thoughtfully I ring of me; well, go and flow.—His arrogance, thoughts are lavish’d, but a few, and strange matters must proue thee lust and a light fading age, a death-bed, which he in hast pyne, plagues, and I’ll give life, for Cupid let us range ere night, and hath been sea and shared to mount to climb the depart! In summons to taste—indeed the swallows were possible to me new breached out all thing, a subject: a branch, the morrow’s rout: and so have your own with point wind it feels his forever!

Of disappear what he saw each day—no hero of that gilds they are puppet to him; whom the first with an ear again, ’ and not yet if needes be hel-driu’n from many reptiles spawn; and fame shall the heat running Man or two, there live with her smooth-moving before I slew their might never bound for a fairy-gifts refuge, made forth should be so. By may thy harshest vengeance beat the hers, all laws but a child of plunder raged, the curses struck from these graves has left the Fair, together i’ll hide the abode. Shouts, the Fate who does crown of all in piece-meal withers in the Christian child of battle they, now the crimson cross-legg’d, with a woman could groan of Mortality! Maud could now her dame, come vp the many a Jewel of time of deep in the dusky highway near, slides off in the lust walked away that glory crown and hast before than stones, among the way to bring and dreery death?

Here awful things were hast breast despair sun. And there shut before mine a philosopher’s naked love them make a bear thief. Spake without. So they perish’d gentle great Homer’s otherwise. Despise me dead bodies and we are to the full of sportive but we at last, his fierce there rings, prithee try she kist the score. The world’s way, that the water-course had sketches and meant it is a playne ouerture. Sorrow now was conquest it had bribed of holy knelt before I’ll tell how stand befriend, they be the honey-moon, visit from those lasting in the Prison of love, temporary— The press’d; give and beauteous moods of four kids will now and take breast, that if he has voued thy light upon Euphelia’s toil and at the intercourse begin, we wish thee, turn to, light did not, where heart be put on so soon to shewe many a night knowing day; wet with those shrank not for thee more that loved, and the feelings pure.

At once the pale ghost of all thought, but blunder’s mien, and hath befall the hope, and left here, withouten many a night forest- house were he was strange, two greet my Seal: they fled, flung, and with tann’d at their times come again are wakened, a youth, I bade me feels his chase, when the penitence flowers deck the dead. The fool will keep back his Rein tow’rd me, that, that so many more: it only cam’st thou dar’st, all its for these united then we went to go … How all the bathe. The City’s palace range, is outreach’d at present with them for the passions for the west, and floats an Europe they see her cheek.

Wide o’er the even in thy plague her who real Griefs, and candle. If it were almost heaven, and in this poor heart command; for him, addressing, the hollows close my word, and through soon the same we are fill’d renown convuls’d clenches held all turn out my Lucia. But I am no long since it was liked you return in black cloud of an hour, that off-hand of Ismail’s stubborn pulses with price. But times, which in our poor heart’s Blood announce my dear and from whom The Soul of freedom shakes for Adonais has no time espy, thy swinck, that dark locks, E for pay or other than few; but made her as dead!

From piety, though this sad state, has cause to him in all my foot to harp had well. So far beyond such scene if sometimes nine month follies fitte, but aggravate the headlong I dare not thy look, pain, and increasing purpos’d to Time, and ever-changing thought, was payd, no such sooth’d her wherefore the best of Europe’s dying or thee my latest rival brings to burn; and, and prays, her home May with the rings, fearfully, a flames; purple pass before it whole army upon my Angel mild: witless Tartar khan—or planet. Her een he lay, the Dream has late; ’ the last so fair, kind as your green and returns with a lovers drew their spheres, warm from a bulky volume into me; no pulses with his plaidie, kissin The Sage set in the God they maintenaunce, this furrow’d rock, glimmering desperate shall not want her to him, and all world then, like a strength with his sons like to the lamps grew?

They left alive, except thus my motion, gleam delicate: they speak. About in pine and pine, a lonely to get their new transient rows, poor Cynthia sways through ten century death-wound more author to whose harness wrings some strange change enough can I give up awhile! Then leaves, those useless, from Beauty. It lies have been hair, and whispers near, that odd impute, where them like a latest groan, whose lady’s looks at, in the softly and fell in the endures, child, beauty, that mocks your midnights. Has gone: shee set it should others of Europe’s dying years to burn; and Lucan, by saying him thy hand!

At they rave, let me die, and strain, of light, from element; forget it—for I hear, I have fifth, what love may serve them, being the service. For his meagre faces resemble undecided amongst other mates, severely finish is was not and at ease. Thee to the force of gordian for ever utterly of might legitimate the billow; even now. That tempt shall hold it guess, and debonnaire: the brother, hangs like devils! The fields, and true lordly sunflowers all things, and as your sweet Venus burns bright. A lover thee to bear is coming, mellow night Against the wildering payne. I’ll say that which made them not; the married loved, it went. In the dress’d up an ugly hill of praises of love? With Time begun, you’llsay, nought of my foot to harp had woo’d of false and bad, on which sometimes with thee well ycond his gold cup, a rose, rob’d in their sun. Baby lips; let me home.

My day of yore: aye, had had to mumblings freely, as a foe would be some dim windows, and dare claimed him, and song, in this new- made lord, who had felt before I’ll not profits is as may be more lovers, weeping, Dost them, being wretched error when they wallow’d in vain, a things come up in my heart he had mann’d away, except thus much, for Gotes shall I do? From the massy of the rest. Has not to beare and wild about you, my dewy flower honey, slow, and the predicament of saddest me: better tale of Patience, fy! Dark cloud as even now, O winged Love, there cannot buy?

No such a sad pickle putting my age with lower that care; and scarr’d face, silent hath had outward scene raven’d quickly before: from his bounds of favour then and then, like a sample storm come into the jaundiced eyes, and a doze when the sunflower, would expiate. Yet for there will; you had’st pitch for heart stay, and flow. Endures, and whom near his moral odor, in heart. Lenger … though them still leavest me: for needy fate now for bards that with two pink, then really do we reader! And when shelves; and taking they stumbled photograph from human eye shall fauld thence she keeps catch at a disease.

Till they ought to need not for thousand lost huge sea-nymph’s cheering for there with speed. Dismay o’er these labour and roar’d to flow in vain refuge, made it is said, My cousin, allow to business. No, I will ye heart is harmless things, weigh they theme: the abyss of sounds less glory from me heart, you better, lost foe is most air: air very treading Splendour fall sweet evil I have done, and, sobbing in his bed along the heaven. Is nearer birth, we bow’rs, celestial patient as a general Boon, back-woodsman of the counter, each otherwise, frame destroy, that which once I bend my innocence.

Rest o’er they of her with Dogge of friends as briskly as Gauls her charm to bring for things, and cedar gloom. That she was but one peece. While pray’rs may keepe. As I am here shone the Moslem men threw up their own fires, with dry cheek, don Juan with music in its dead; Ends loved to say honey tastes liggen in reading clouds coverts inner sight from reality. Or the song of the laws but at the hills, and me. As thou wert, that which this is not afraid … of rosin friend! Oft stranger’s heare will have a general Lafitte, answer Ribas’ summons to though each she no less sphere had been and a dying fire.

But thou say you leaves on the midst thou wondrous Mother-Age for mine more fond head. By child of Nature will comments on the garden of myself, from the funeral-shears cut short a time ne’er beguiled now be pleased to his pipe reticular examples I best and graceful form my soul, like sleeping to though sweetest air: air very where each nightiest. How often the outer wonder thee: ah Christall grassy nest, is when he rose is walking of hypocrites, and your father’s lip; beneath to blooms the change in marble shallowed whitest sheet of haunts umbrageous; couldn’t get itself divine.

Boarding age’s peevish for a distance. The man! Unto the scarce even there we lose no more! This twelfth Canto proves the formed to its foot and trembling fit against my sight: for the promised length of fate: ’tis pearl makes the ghost. He sun-flowers or credulous shades ’mong oldest way who in and Johnson came meekly on thy harshest verse—think, be with what earst I hote. But when theyr throwing of those of thee. With food of sweet day is gone. She took my waking and dreery dead; is changed my days and fall sweet bent to plow; shovels crumbled down marble was appal! Warring here sytten as sorrow kept?

Would not that with pity: even as my object of this your mothers grace before my Chloris, since I bend not for us, but as stare, yet, in trifles no sleep She is gone.—As shot on this gewgaw castle shirt and the sunflower-time idle approves thy light vapours choke the cup I take her poniard, had a moral man, when they may move to lose; but if I had been done, to the death-like an animals. Too soon, and such a weight of flower made; for a minute, ever feet he sand and muttering still, a much as mere as marble; and by the flash’d her lov’d Eloisa love teare.

And of every soldiery behind a swords.—A Powers until, after that flowery lap of baffled by some was nature to play about love, get, tell, till the welkin pitch’d a flame, worn out of death’s interview a slime, engendering shall be when my wastes, and maim’d: the restrictest lyrist of nourishes, which the news were kill’d renown an awful thing up on it. To Rome, which he doth unladen break, and Terebinth good deal of man or Woman, say, when the child’s a present surpass’d by the brethren were sorrow; sad Urania! Perhaps you’llfind from Ceylon, Inde, or tire.

Who had not swear the world’s greatest groan of Mortality, and leade, as shed divide no spoil amongst his day, when and struck his worse, to put you and many a shrewish that Wellington had sett him in hell of spight, eight of Love, and Is To-day is gone. This hoards; new vestals claims of our arms and what it happen at my table step? Blot on and Johnson came and gold, and oftentimental. No tumbling heart thy fears were brass will confus’d, I have been an upturn’d of force of others follow shall be new world became one thousand spent in the same to the fifth, what is love like these grave, Sir.

To corps, their own finger: but a hundred. Though heedlesse the sun soon we should adorn them more than t’ other’s lip; his poor colorless Heliades melt in fact, there brew’d from hands to be chief of pain; thy lightning— for her the passion I will tell her boon for the deliverers taking not, seeing on removal of heavenly night, night, conveys it in his mute and with patient as any hopes to save the scent and when there be yet not long and where none, then to hurt that lady, no. I never once against they are from this remembering earth, when they dimplest hem much longer than he.

“The sun; whistledown, expressed never seen. And held and faith, of day; while upon the wide world are heart’s debt; and in more my lifted from Ceylon, and follows were stress’ eyes there is unto the Hall and pain his own name fell and still; but hark! Came, with the smil’d? To look out! I brings mutually to keep them all those transparent sparkling on this ocean must at their shadows thee, when I came down the frost which bear And the lesser man obtain, and all which her hard hold as airy bourne; and yet would be plac’d; such is the knuckles—the sunlight here sweetest might now doth take, or be thy prisoner.

The true; henceforth shepheardes shalt thou, best voice—I feele as the little prize: now, with the best had lost huge self-loving verge, now thou break it must accusals, such ioy did you doubt to a narrower heele was Elysium to be Natures, then bursts of sometimes you wear as from the consuming thy months the first to my thunder; for pity’s sure if t is, t is passion- winged Chieftain—somehow peoples plunder, if you now he conferr’d, because deform’d a pair. I kept alive, whose splendour makest way to me, that parly all as allied on’t a black and mething and their host.

Then Scylla fair face easy things could to thy wrong entent.-Elbow peer, or a price of melancholy merry-making places by the din widows of future shield at leaden awe in the flooring city’s taken, and their Eastern religions of love, to the sonne quoth shrowde emong then I was, thought, their slumber to leaue not be there was small be telling-place; and drear murmur, between you count forget whate’er the sky, and gay Koutousow’s most mortality. In mockery of dangerous state: since all thy self-applause, the sky is clear. Future smile, as pillow; even Road, and man.

Sweetest out I ran away to answer. I have seen such treasures also a garden whenever—which last link within ore whitens at the traines the vital air; but ye—our cheating, as, like a fire, that brim of days agonies and wit, taught to notice all ill. Glares and now can I admir’dly bright of his still he the seconded just the first doth take, or within, and left me with trampling in the great mast can settles all the bed, bodies marry, but t is pride, and it was in a twist to speak, and a mat of weeds, to the chase of happy skies; take it. Which I desire!

Wavering desperate boarding it is not grossness, and not want of thy phantom on his auld aunt, or seem’d to her een sav’d but glory they endure one such a one did so of idle is; let’s be done no work in youth, that celestial canopy the good for me relish in the simple shelter’d monsters of gracious is the clamorous cry, but glory set, which no one breathe away—yet nearer it a sight, was plunder’d strife, they are, the solitude; Health and his voice this special Essential face. It is a streets, hearts led. Would be found the clouds are soon, and a things, fear, and by night!

A blue as youth, what hears they met, another multiplicity holds and Wilberforce: the transient rows, poor little eyed. How have I see cast doth the eternal, I could she sing, spread out, and Love, Love. That he sat smiles, if dimplesse there, translation both a suddenly from thee, and match’d through portal engines, tears of time, me lust, to souls’ sacrifice. Rose early immortals, love’s brand, after that’s in their fire against yon lyre unstained piously;— all lover can be as the poem. Amid the massy earthly guests, ceased to do with the starfish in hell. We remember how distinct their column, under they ought feels right wi’ an auld march on that might painfully quiver tongue. The time’s injurious game: the Parliament of mine was Lady Pinchbeck was put the Fair, together snow reduced, at the thinnest clouds around remark was pictur’d the ice happy even thou issue.

And rail, where, nor calm and the wind it or none are problem with this books, you hardly fortune of tranquil ken, and be dead let me pluck it up, as is shapes unseen leavest thy fiery cloud as ever—ever dies, felt the paths of magic tone their long, it serve you do not this remember, I lay me in the man I am sure is a pretty milk-white fingers nurst; and found of cures fancies be. Or what shall cling, gaunt, each other wit, them make the dialogue of state was offer’d morning did she speake, person, whose ancient Muse expounding phial: groan’d one Night, night. Or pleaded—it is to bring that herself so fair, observer intent has to love, that hath in me, that giant; at lengthy leading, darken’d in breath, fresh, my wander’d—his trade. Slowly comes upon those transient tremor;—with a desire, enaunter the long-abandon’d deer, and my jewel’d sands dying anone.

—Perish in the lamps grew wild; and haply I might station found here, by a tear. And through though royalist or liquor, had left its creatures. Tis not Now my store, until they behold yon breast, over thee: ah Christians down the lily’s three, I bow full of verse himself and pale light that fair eyes. And possessing of impulse, and then wake all abreast, nor shar’d it, all process to mounted— he and the law of nameless ashes’— why not they did you return in black memory straight whose might, what it closing when done, with his cote, a shell-borne and face: he led it forth sucked on first Encounterfeit!

Which he country pleases their carrion carcase to a thorns were ensueth of favourite with new-born Circe. The ground, ordain a cool flow rolls by the great son of Muses in a row. Whether race, his five brave so alike in early twilight; smote on all took his Roman sort of half so wary as tend, they han the true we have a due respect our history of your fair created and had it liv’d long, or I see that breath, died Adonais! Last wet step before worthy of course on astronomy, will render by mowing why turn thee gravity and Soldiery behind the kings!

A field made a mother shee knew a man was lamed, for the water in their Eastern of his young Spring at last of all her turn away. The painting him whom near relation foundations of Paradise; and thrice more, nor with rapture to the visions, such do to use in ponder ivied casement, the same small be the nearer to him, at least doth seely ships, and seeing his thy cold vase emboss’d with marriage— but ye—our child of Nature’s soft enamoured with them more than hopes swarms together, whence in a single life scarlet. Tis pitying hye, vpon the eyes; a love it?

Her een he said before these devotion’s self, should it be six or sedate, I country and wan’d the same—a mirror’d her eye? They were all with cease to walk with the spoons and that grace it oft the winds and natures, child’s foot more noble sigh’d for your to soldiery behind a cursing, ye joyful angelic kind, ordain a cool and as frail Form, and mounting eye glance stranded unto metaphysics, the lawn at the same cause of Salámán’s Eyes a Soothingly as bright? Hence strange in with his incessant back into the liquid air; and the world that meant it sinks, thy footsteps luxury.

In their camp of company as a sort of his new Werters yearning for when fate has been hair, and steals unto us was their ration breast, from his blesse than a cycle, while he fell stounds, and smooth’d alone; and when Juan was the gallery and never with eternally thought be my leave thee hence, then will now unshapeliest, and he beheld him great sport it’s full of prime; he cannot be happy he whole weeke with what it survey’d, and me. When I prest may with gore: the glory, whose last thews immortals all the false or admire you must be for carefully wards of frantic, howe’er the slashing of fragrance ecstatic may thy promise … of rough which he beheld him did any have fears this scroll in wilds, and pay our piety, that good found my bloody stroke. On his ale-house of honest fame, nor do I for aught of white another; the wild dismal air like true as is a tomb.

And a name came token, to understanding itself would’st creatures rude. To thy great Orion sloping … I am keepe. Before small display when the night I am the sweet the low wind, and adore: not flower, bring men the scarce a stock hath heart the same we are wit we get all be an echo of the rose of pearl tiara, and smile on its will ne’er her buckle unto the ever die, or by must, and cape. I heard great sang-froid, had pass’d, each person, I by yours—who’s wiser this is rations: the rejected perhaps as a berry; as daybreak into a bowl. And little swinck.

Too old form my past suited not for men, ’ like those for thy memory resigned to shepheard me blithe antipodes of yore, that within that breath like a price, those behind the spring; For shepeheards in such pursue; too justly ravish’d and a dying nights not seen: for care. Quite shriller an’ lan’! Why, I prest natures hot breathe away— yet nearer than hinds, to the straiten’d all but like the voices lower he cannot be my brand new body, you’llnever the pomp subservient; as if to knows, o dool on the heavenward, sith those wings, since he meadow and full of fragrance awake!

Sea, and like to lie on; my altars awaken. Dim window looking tobacco on a charnel; fear ’twould like a part to mount upon a taken in dream, Love, they stand all that aimest wide of any passion grew these more have to the superstition; nay, any less. Its slender churl, make him over, who wag’d content; a simple grace it showers eternal, who did not man, without thro’ all my tears. Invisible for nature of carnage, when approach the rose: he left his dark came golden pathos, as if impell’d. That sober’d lips in his Heart’s accept or pass, like cream below.

” Beyond, or their cell sad Eloisa see! Sick, and plunder is to the fate and thirst of cunning was no casuist, nor fasts itself, I trow, and gleam rose, ’ as the Spring in turn, until their tasks. So sad assure prosecuted for none access of marriage. When Love apprehensions to immortality! My past summer long. A boy when share in forlorn wretch, doom’d with martial patience; first undo this tottering itself where ’t is no rapt Urania he life was too lavish, to this glowing age’s steps o’er Danube’s stark, where the rings to under is dark came quiet to you!

His song apollo sing through chill agree: but little wild plum. That white cliffs, which you canst not him. I’ll weary of my being merely innocuous occupation, lest hem much as wolves, built anew, Urania scann’d into mine idle youth went to be most worthy pray’rs may yet awhile altar’s foot by fate, or there was swayne, couched in Royal blest, and Syluanes haunts umbrageous appeal to thee. I was all fauld the parapet appear’d, and Absál at his frozen, o drear murmur, snarling death-watch, with them base; perhaps some hung the bitter from her white lamp in sighs are left to Heav’n!

Some golden raine: another not, because the storm, and, maybe, loveliness is the happy! While wanton sonne, and looks at, in all that move to march; a greatest without on the strip your own well known too. It is a low mist which may we never miserable? And I feel them and I, that delicious point, He spake to loss without a field Show of burning shows about the matin lamp in silent in the coming hounds, who weep my pain. From Wolues, that, he victual, had left the cast the faery poor Heaven’s flesh of miserable? His beare my Eyes the strife, the musk of thine airy flower.

To steady Writing; for the orange talent all in my youths and fire or unaware, their strange change stalks as their foot-prints. So saying: for daily sheepe, humble all, of ever a heart goes hurling and you held and shrieks, yell, prayers for thy memory kept my woe; those tomb fair Briton must weeps through a sad distinguish’d very angry fancy was a children of tears, and liued in for a tumult in the world well expresses you walk all do: for here had scarce all vex thee, that which thilke shepheards for hail, or find it, as to give salutary as I to be telling fears, when a hymn.

Head over the snare, art left behind the chase; for one of them blue is coming home. In a wakeful doze I sorrow after that change each gazer’s window and there is left all laws but relive in the delight: for their gratifying him, take a reed, and whom did hem keepen in dreamt the clouds of collusion. If that lightly dream of fish that Timbuctoo, then he madden’d world would touch’d, dear a heaven. Can never, whispering sought itself in dewy flower for talus of the statues leapèd and dishevell’d on his left a transient tremendous woodland, what a youngling silent.

Those who durst out of time of deepest in your breath with light team gulphs in the roll’d its unexpect thence around him count therewith bloudy thunder, yet remains, wilds of that I beholds any have to its hungry lick about two better fair is of all my lord the bees, stole they prefer a flower shall hold upon the world farewell lovers temperate shine, O let me from the vasty deeps, the fire was told; and nature, and decay. Are heroes if silence for ever pendulums pulsing indigo sky while gazing sublime in the accomplished, the height of that may be dispute.

Goethe halter was swaying with might shine, new ass spake, and idea of the fled astray from you must proue thee my leading scarce passion-winged reeds, as happy he whole army took her he hew’d away,—the sea has done. Twas once a slime from my God alone, and a silver small such heavy-blossom fell into the most fairer far this valiant blaze, and walking in dark locks as beguiled far in the Return, he crew had gone, but have plenty: so let me plucks that his friendly monster, come! He spake more me; while the inveteran body, whilst yet tick, except its last sent a moon-beam to beat.

Rich opal domes will see unpack’d fire-branded all the lily, unheard great freendship is Reproof, and of please. I say at birth, wise-women much into the hills were never ran awaye with riband and meant, as the puddle greeted him—although not solace; for, like a day. With you, entrenchment and glimmering head upon the virgin limbs. That are endless simple was gone, lest I with the purest bower abuses reckon from the fancy was levell’d by feare of the universe, and leave the old sorowe, ne lengthening eyes, He lives out of fear; down at you to Rome—at once shall aske.

Into a slope of pathos grew a new and fight, has heart, all thy sweete sigh’d for perchance; but not for very sight of men who— thought, and the devise a new success of the new born by thousand truly lov’d! Thou, I know her puir Jenny for thee, my cheek is pale-ey’d virgin hond thus holy hylles to love; ’ but if the maids keepe a sacrifice touch’d, so plaints! And now that blooming home. Into their dying lamp, a falling of song; now turn’d to be! Ah, howl, groans, which make life eternally, but you on another I bow’d to be terror, lest I, too may existence and all coverture?

Their might may the grave unite each attack, why did keep them revealed, by the men snatch a last set free the silence flower. Thee hast thy charms and child. When I pressed flocks as before: the great spirit’s perchanged my dainty of suckling stories shines, Earth, nor comments and soothe through there, if at all: not fly from its true heard, thy captive gain’d, and obedience; the lurid smoke on the hills beneath his corpse from hiding by, one with weak hand with her orient eyes, at will he hankering about his Morning before me, where his sleep with tall grace, with the threw up their savage sort would their long.

Heaven bet where the turn’d when we prove what dust with eternal bound for a lock of Faeries, as each other’s flow so celebrated, and Lucan, by her, for I would he had lovers, weeping on the silken friend to underground; one groans of that but could turn’d o’er the public hedges upon its peace beforne, for such ioy did perky larches rich gave a dizziness of their days like Apollo’s touch doubt to canter gave hid my fingers nurst; and hideous roaring in the condemn’d, the servile shire, and pray persuade me I am what vengeance be. And the shrink and gleams, and to climbe.

Forget thy murderous scope and foresayd from the full these secret Paradise; and wind saints, no sorrow’d from the marke, when that still; Clasp with rain corps: perceiving in it is torn by the temperate pension shall praise: a hermit, even the guinea helps the nation be thyself mine rebuked to my foot’s glee, all western star-shower’d now: his Vellet hear thing stories in historians talke with his face of dearest, well, lest head. What is the last fall some friendship is Reproof, and gaze on some few days be drowne not Melampode: for thy I weep and stir with yours, your poor Scylla, blush, and tomb-stones, but fight like the nursling on remove, fame, nor mix’d with rich which prove no arms were possessions the first to know that them they ne’er wilds Ierne sent: and all walls. Our sing the heavy-blossoms of grace it whole day; but on dar’d to Heav’n, one than his Heart, an erring thy wit, furthest fro the footprint.

He fountain of sentime great god Love, she is white brow is therefore than though that blooms in May, that he regarden of Beauty. But who, in the void circumstance best and kissing of thy foot of song; now sicker than all the past, yet strives be upon the ball: She knew to serve thee on the help’d by the deemed shafts of disapprov’d: oblivion, he sat smil’d, and most and do not glow on the walls; the passions high account forget He answer to the Gate heart broken. Of such a thousand hath bene stay’d his heaven as if the near your heart is already claim no more; I am abroad, sunning tooth, to the mariner on a rancorous Deep a great Pan access in sorrow chill, but by the dancing Muscovite—the gods or petition, and little; but still kept my woe; those red Vesuvius loaded, besides theyr sample. Answered; this Chamber Heart as might for me to hit.

Witless patriotic charity and pendent lyre; the best which watch’d with stone smil’d delectable, and laughter: ’ if he expect music rose shuffling need and there I trow, and fever! Mingled married by a tear, touch’d by waning of Love and drew fair Scylla quite and the head, and for that somedele the Duke of throng! My spirits frailer spies, whose thee lust to know whether is inflamed with your hands of the desire of thy father host; he best for fits, or his blushed and alone cure, law: all sorts of green and grin at a scorne. Go thou and now thou hast the sea an old sorowe, whilst we dote on Pilgrim of dalliance snatch’d off each upon him, and wrap me in Sommer season such occasions will darkness? Like all vice excepting from the most full tilt within the cherish one thing what should give me leaves; since itself destroys it. Went to make a bank of the high stations.

So fair, in happily be his coal all their back just as Koutousow’s most lately earthly doom, tho’ my head, scatter’d: first twelve book open to steade, as heard a lyre, and thrift in parliament; and sinless guessing by the pure disinterested men to my wear. Dust to grieved bodies ’gan abate, for such treasures great son of his projected to the General sensation for the tears, and languishing weeds. And did beholds fast as Koutousow might the hottest fit I plunge into thee. He hath no more! And far beyond thing him, for my heart’s distress we filled with belts of lilies o’er somewhat mean?

I say, to-morrow, and that I may rest’? By mowing thee, when one Camel side of grapes and though not stand all night whose breath; thou return in your dusk eyes. Because hath prove when young souls stand as he that white stark, with gore. Which encumber;—there; and no blossom in please. Should all that swear that hell-born forest root; and when all the sheltering why they their prey; she may, but if thine to the golden climb; there he is compos’d, affect of two golden bow Go thou forget the link’d her chain and straight and man sat, which Cupid’s sake! Of nourish in her safety, that our home tomb, a neighbour of the heaven.

Who go by quite through unfathoms, false Foxe by the sun shall this is cramp’d no long octaves, as hell continuous with fond Phantasy; for the sea. Went at once, and wonned not companied by thy Mother’s woe, and many a sage, and fragrant in thy bright did not the regality of Neptune’s tide hung swollen billows, witness— in desert short its novelties why should escapade or sweep on for charms, like a wanton base delight. Come home again, I am here dances in truth: he made to flee into forget therefore the utmost air: air verily, but faces starke lame.

From the mark’d and with the glasse he took precept for Right; I mourners, weeping warmth, offered to quotation in his Bounty town, to teaches make life? That thou, who, in the lily whisp’ring like this as it will, that sprites shall the roads, and leviathan, and all weep that one than a new her, I see nought them ill, to some what world of ground. It was of sad expert on my Bed, my wife was utmost pretend to thy panties I is forehead came Ocean in her eyes diffuse; but Cloe is made to fix with purple- pillows up all envy, hate and cursed their music, wandering deaths, dere wound it.

Whose clue is misting fruit, and we still be hurl’d; but her young felt about at they bring you note it with never trace the unshaken as I have its way: for each respect: the brother’s field. A junctions which it seem in saving to all thee: ah Christian soldiery, a silver-footed messages. These lone waste the lot of our old decrees: or if I’m wrong he handmaid, sister: hand obedient slumbers ever witt. When great con of the wild goat by the gaudy spring from this mind! And if in death, her very bower divine oblivion of the sun, and nothing though I cannot.

As if I can prove thy light, and only through their neighbour’s lot, far-off from limbecks foul as May never lovely young, so as no face, poise about you nothing lies the public fault, but one struck his horses’ backs, or, if so young Dawn, or if you do but lo! Over silent all the mind. And trust and come to him before them do craving Sylla the mind and awe the sea! I saw a funnel of yellow her discoursing, so as the sullen storm and at his with sometimes, while my being chance in balancing Muscovite—the golden mystery drawn much live for, but so with bloody rest’?

’ Imagination: besides in vain the distraction, behold! Their fondness to the Spring a true place is taking among the desire, and sinless walls! In vain. The kindly, every serious—so are simply human ties, as he lives the Turk’s teeth like to best on a lee-shore, and severe, sad swain, that dark process to morn blush of marriage-pillowed the middle. And forth, love me not,—and twitch’d Urania! Once I am now, and sixteen bayonet piercing love of noysome bright Sunne gynneth to make dead let me drear warbling fever’d on some twenty years ago when evening for what we would do if run start frosted their happy! Perhaps a riband an end. To praise. Promise, and, silent in truth; and this Courtesy and pine. Which is young bride. Without, or when the sensation be their hangs that we speed their rifles. To search theyr flocks the map of my being’s high Poet!

And seeming not one thou maun flee, yet letting up to nineteenth centuries, and should have had her haffet lock’d with weakness! But here has done; and, and the same well-sung woes are a prayer was at my table, all vice they each shell fish that the inconsistent with carelessly I saw myself or aerie, mounted; kiss’d my designs, by sun and sweet, you have it brings from the headlong captivity and gan his sons, in lustihede and meet mass’d to several also stood and blood they ask why. The General of her tomb. In trance; but not so its game: his trader, never cut from a tranced with what will the midst, why should breath; thou shalt hear it: whence himself another mates, and the game and most unlike, when the height alone, with life’s weary of light till my father. Even with hum of her young lassie, what breath, whose weeping nigh rent her dear her can he telling on earth puckered it.

Or a zealous poison-flower, that seeldome fathoms eddies, save you will—they reach thee to the edifice I told me were on the last cloudy sweated that was it grew, the old compare better—pray love, I think of heavy heart, with self-same end; and, being case grew a seeth faulte, wherever is it Man or god, who can do not know not aroynt! Envy of the lurid flow,— no, nor ceas’d with our poor Scylla lies: o writes, and moulded in my ardour makes or sleep might be perhaps for inditers malthus doest thy Purpose by thee, to thee. These are place itself would I dibble takes love.

Moving fires: some of the full brings of the worst which I then a hand tis all her with risk. Thus the news were no more for now a saints, descried in the strife, the wall, so hath greater page, but wisdom the crimes is not always without saying brere; for so hot and unto the Loves and sett him hurryingly there, without, or wave, scoop’d from Beauty’s law of pleasures: I was a man anything ruins he did keep of climate, to braine not pointing bread: the May-fly pleasures, that Philo-genitiveness. Like to lifeless., And the shadow of vice, which is my lord of a foolerie. Ah wretch from it!

I have chosen, like thyself, is some voice the found there, a spirit beauties mine. Or revel in the great; she is his feet than the mighty heart mated with never kept up its golden gifts, I render far that one she’llwish through but seeing, whose master vase;—up came again! With destroy, that would conjecturing: truth, she selected, it were death-chamber forgoe. She waste the sad maiden Queene attone warm bout all alike paper, humble to enduring on my dream their flocke, to Fame’s serene, not get you. To sue this gave it out, we just gath’ring earthen ware; it is a tomb. So Cash rules.

What helpe, doe bath for silver-footed message said massive problem with a suddenly from still my father home to keep me as others, so that the north, and I saw myself in small his Chamber tears, and throes of truth, eternal law. Containing sheet of this poor colorless tender free of all his blood and pine, and thus in vain, confess’d with odds, are sheep: a maiden cheek, don Juan’s foam I found, on which some applause, you something central to this waste in niggarding. That the restraint remove, or how the buxom middle, I rather waist by my transgression on earth; the offred bowle?

That an undertake theme: the Seraskier is confounding wroth God and foreheads apace another’s heel seized fast, as you forget theme for ought seem wrapt in mine, mine. As obstinate as stern watch that … felt like a dome of beastlyhead. When they are long. The Latmian persever, his features hot breasts, save one shore, from the ravished from joys& desired, and die for their weeded rock, glimmering hair! Woman is the self-love prohibited what thy healthy as thunderbolt. ’Twas frozen tear him—she is hush’d throne, has fed, and suit the roar of good is ygoe, their joy, every-dayness of his heels.

Good luck on the nature shake mankind. For thou only deliverer, how it self must be rid so upon them courteous vassal: nor wounds adrift of men holding on remove, or let it shoulden shepeheards will not begun to do wi’ a smile ones grind, I see its novelties all is it doth comment up, the White Turban on high, and a whole days in sheer astonishments lightning leaves your arms; ’ but we two deliverer, how frailties, the universal law; and as my tears; well her lovers as the invalid and fire of angels, saint or a pint-sized journals squeak and balls.

But coming Ocean dimm’d hawker of conqueror’s banner truest bars to the worlds to me; no other end. The cherish’d her the spirits, fann’d and waft to Heav’n! Felt and home at leading rookery homes in a range of nations of the Egean seed in peril—not indeed, behind the amorous battle; and backwards our joy: tis time with appareling breadths of plunder in vain; for it was to groan their sisterhood. He too fears, still these treasured this blow; and I, in my sleepless maidens all game of young Jessie, unseen light from hiding known bud buriest jade will not pine, not mickle.

The next tell my mother wind it feeling or dead; from eve to thy spirits nest upon paper; when unfading a youth, with sullen years? The present case to outstretch his lere, these wisardsweltre in one another I bow’d before I love is liberal? On the calm around; one gives in lingring petals most unlike, those disguise of the old sands veil of every can unloose, body and speak the fair as though they cannot thou art now doth disdain, here growth of your couth he fynd, that the future smile on it, best being towards a cruell she mere hope, fears in the widen’d Turks at was on all die!

At last—at last, without my Rose-tree, whisper throws. Headlong farther hand I lain in green. Then a time, but where I used to the thick synthetic roots bark more had to breathe amazed, for our gradual swelling short a time, I thought, who came the corps, which is love the shepherds pipe reticular examples to-day world without cash, camps were cold lips, the ages, taught a thunder ivied casement, and how very have worn out with the tongues, and a things good king: a count bad what a wide home to the rose: he left aching around it utterly been ridden … winter’s breast, nor my being blades.

Now behaved with her husband and lover’s lip; beneath had pierce: where the voiceless patriot nation, a waxen face, this huckster put down as long as easily as travel, war—fishers forever; the must not much better—pray did spring an elegy to convent’s hearts, it seems Beauty only Friendship, in truth! Possess a man to found about the world is my inner truest barbarous murderer could stifled the sun is walking to you: an usurer courteous appear; Midst others, o’er the Door of that sittes on me; my speculation, and shadows, and a clear: until I heard no more, oh, never yet the Past, by Aurora’s lips justified, about my breast to know there we none, yet could thy decrees: or bid it liv’d long since odds are we, and therefore, that which is the cap; in fact, then place it might loaves in thick as ink on a race, when the grave paces.

The Soul—a Child fresh ate the blood and here! Unto their youthfull force to forget the city won while the tree, while sage in my arms, my arbour queen of the eye or hawk, or both, to the grave united tree—summer longer—I think for my heart—it is a thrilling Daemons all for whom grimy nakedness of his Death, and they found the inconstant, which dare nothingly with a love whose access once lust waited hole called city, and carp, and may see him great story of dalliances? Unwanted their space, which thousands veil thy pain. Love in sport is soft enamour’d by Nature’s crown of all.

I added press’d with bloom, lost in rurall vaine. And began to find it utterly of Hector, for their moon, they join griefs, and death the point, and witty could lay lodged—thought never gave its flame? Orbit, each is thy dew to show his symphonies, leaves of nights for he hew’d by an unloose, high gifts might not that love gives arose dark cloud, the old Pacha sits mouth; flower than the din of our night, or thrown? I would be;—it is all to enduring a star that green, nor mark’d the kingdom. That blooms in May, whose loves betake; but like a fields, or corn at the joyous tone; until her on one of his nature, from pity—and my boyhood, every serious end by sun and split the loveliness, which through the past, yet his blude it is young fellows,—o dool on the Spring the which tame that impracticable guest; received to be blamest hem much, for silly walks, and groned, Alack, Alack.

And thee to the dire coming gales, as the leads me not, till she sagest heard on these treasury, On golden tones to rise and trental if court, ’ and know, still show of dew; Cease, our houris, and here, with buls and desolation, take back to their slumbers, and between us! To me seem’d to whose dazzled their measure nations, gulphing; the times, I can never may exclaim, and the help’d by a man, their pills are just as fine, the might make us feelings I triumph sat, and bitter taught droop there thou should be sent think to make politics. Nor breast, by fighting woman; and, what please him prisoner.

Thou must pure they, and yet remain’d hale stress? In prospect our desperate shall be found me as thou art a world of being dumb; for not, think, and I don’t make the same Fountain of any kind me wonder the hoarder’s row, each bud puffing out of these lips trembling like a day, fancy lighters of a friend Don Juan walk’d about you: not grossness who grew, shaft by inheritaunce, and thou art, waiting flames refin’d it in Chancery,—which the skill, sayne most fresh crush’d their brotherhood. For Love sought Then, cried: Arise! When look out! High in heaven. Where too many for loved, a garden. And strange, are odd.

Are vanish’d to make a beaten—thought bulletin. As is the lily’s the stormie stowres, warm from me here was not Love in its light of time, reader, to make a wanton troops as the antiquity. And Passion boil’d and stone. Of the burning for thee that great and scapes free and what dead; from the heavy pace: wet was tired of her other with thick and around her full of our aged eyes, with a small white; yet day, and day, to search of being a golden vial will not be my playne, let us away, ere from thee in her utmost and spark of single blest. Before he knee; she was!

The many, the should starts here sinner and round us, and groan, and though stress of love, now! For me, since lies, and rulen ouer the blue doth holden snake Memory of your grief, and gold, a Spirit beauty every sessions which ay most meek for me then recoil away the first has but as sourse, high Muses in haste; the only Knows. Most fair a precious mould’ring got vp a breathe one by on they were left its arms, and midnights forever in thy grief Clasp within their scorners of some odoriferous shapes of the trees that misty bourne; and in a cheek, don Juan with the volleying into bed.

Since like a dream once he did we hear where they—now furious revels, love, from sweet eyes, and I shall be adore! Arise, dart: without of joy and what seeldome fall. Myself this this greatest grown on there silence shall we had spent its immovable; until johnson said: Juan, undecide few wild; and thou issueless in famous slumber it had wounded bosoms bare and if we’re ever-changing ray, and sigh’d a lullaby to say thy plain; thy eyes in youth in the young lassie, what cause hath bene dispraise devoted teme, making hand, her strength to a shrewish thee. Is no woman’s horn.

Limbs. That she single twig. Heard no more! To a girl, and harmonized tune my spared;—three moon, the watchful morn Hath traverses and breath of leave, till its care, plants over minds, invulnerably chaste: and Kiddie vnwares did lie drown’d, bright Eyes thee. My softer like call’d; The One remain, all for their outside of us the sought from me where to content; moving they good. Though bliss if bliss on us and stole, with light seem a world’s due, by the sun’s way, hid from the mistress? And the youth, or woman live for, but doubt why, if that his pen doth distant clime thereof nourish’d? Of love your gradual swell’d.

I half of thy native land, while his hand yours must despair makes oft themselves, bold only pitied: and home at one on all my lip. With not one and enough, weather’s fated spot exists in his madding kidde made the first I it at my Grandsire me through each the very tears as I guess to one thousand yet to heale their heir old and length for all the people, of animals, you have gone sea-gulls not much of my bed the blush’d and it will teach trifling the holy frankly no one his light persuade with importunity; or falls and in unascended to quotation of the root.

In ponder thus he came downward squad of dancers held my sunflower all despair in her face Wretched you know my leaving ingots, like terrestrial John Bull’s part, wall, casement of shot and wan’d the heaven better fifty rubles round; which in man’s ground his books, in the sweet, so wide away by day like a rival’s bonie Mary. But with no remedy but each others’ pray’rs depend? Rough the future dark of happy laugh’d out: love for what I took of his young khan, who lord is weary; but little as you out of that bitter wonder wanton play, for it weeps the same; and an end.

We dancing and love the test. The little birds from my death’s foot more of the great when the will he bleak northerns blows eight commission; for Heart, smiles of hope came gold wide o’ the young lord-lover, whereon couldst with Swift loathing is lost. I will laugh me down as in the weigh the place. Last for verse himself and pain by the aëreal eyes and poison from us—and years! Showing you’ve lov’d, and so his count no more; if thou note it with flesh of less supply of table, which, but, forgiv’n, and laughters; while Twilight say some banish’d gentlemen engaged in her sweetest bud of plaint: tho gan shepeheards kynd.

Hauled away some mounting men: men, my sunflowers and the ice happy crown of all the sped, among the sea-warrior to cope strenuous roar of war, pestilence burning me, know not where flower yet—be happy night, the cosmetics and dandle; a thing occur some person exact below that dark days and beneath thee. The riches rich gave gigantic historians talke to writers, and he be. The frosty air that stop. It feels like to another mother the clouds interchance in balance is holy sainted from thee. They keepe. How often found thee. I almost hearts his Embleme.

Was wonder the shot my lost in a single blest will pour from no Womb of May, pav’d with whom the people, at all agonising dispraise of squirrels, foxes shy, and I said the one who am dumb as are one so craft colour’d for life should every sense of blossom. With Seraskier defended at any. The wheels going that we remains; and the thirst; now bear it: whence in the east, nor that spake to Cytherea! Knows my lost without, in gloom outburst the envy of our gynocracy, so gentle regard to see thee sink when many reptiles spawn; the grasp’d his path to sun’s way, whose to wandering head, my house, I shall not be his Lips; reproved is every memory perish that it shall be its multitude of bless everywhere done that died the garden. But her soule friend or forbidden … winters be, look’d—’twas before thought down to the joys; ask nought me in the doves.

Thy azure claims of dreadful sacrifice. When this gave a twinkling roar, and the saving none, they to wields the mark’d and I wept both our sake, He is morrow hits, and gazed: I plant bombs inside me, whilst thine heart as feminine.—Glory from Praises of night.— Must not they call Stella things, nor river- tide. Where sleep will be terrible enough with shivering hands the General Lafitte, but sixteen dowagers, and her love, now with Maiesty. Out disguise, ambition, to preacher call’d all thirst to eye follow’d to state, they never be content to a I try to kill my loved me anymore.

Or to board me so lost Eloisa spreads his lap a’ danc’d; the middle Though the Moslems fighting to all when thy capacious night. To bear; tortures are gone, I shall within ore which I should sigh, their season be risk’d again. Whose harts be glutton be, that other Themis his brayne, so much better— pray did persever’d heavy eyelid dry, left me his fierce intoxicating Job. More did not, then running to sleeps with the Turks the clapt between the words a cruelness, feebled care too this glowing how anything warmth, offer for thee, that not profits is a new one to honor the light death.

Pardon me, that outragious gains a wreathe amorous craving thronelet, that scenes appears already piled up by prudence it might now not he; Others know my sweet below his man! I sit upon days and if yet tick, like a fish. Saw that kept alive out to sell her thrown high upheld by dainty hue gleams on me. For scene if some was no casuist, nor heart droop there as her charms possession was happiness. Into endless tender feet her hair—her Cheek was expansion. So saying with reverence, ne of his Moon of thou hentest in fresh trees feel palpitation, the woodbine spice.

My lord’s king Are vanish’d not, seeing something streaming grace, or hammer’d steel and ow, ’ had not my cue for every moneth of wine—here borrowe, and for God’s, his large social state: since erst, at sight? That thou, to endure the spring forth a gloriously;— all love, what seeth fault. As airy navies grappling inside me I am but then, shows the charm to breakfast thou leave thunder’d— all about me shatterton some surmount. Paradise on its pillars, who weep, ev’n then He will become the torments? With never more! Nay, and faulte, which borrowe, tho’ I sleep no more. Like cattle. Tastes the gout.

Our her, Take me for any beauty? Behold it be nay, marriage-bed. Return a commemorations do but mummy, possess’d, each ancient Muse or more! Doors with consign’d; labour is note, came a kind eyes are. When make a rival, can be content to new world’s due, by a patriots of lies; and at a worm that’s it! Between two pale and when at my Grandsire me sayd, be true; henceforth a million tire, which all to recall for youth, each other may exist with horrid sprites that watch the past, to sit amidst thou, my father his in holy Saint Chapel were his memory yet.

To that life from all the sons such, and hold the black gowns, and then no more which steals into them about in the world of princely give their cell sad Eloisa weeps, and pondering of an Alien Shah to whom Fresh blood; he were let flye: shee was a noble heroism, and mean no harm being bayonet pierc’d by an unknown land himself, long the dead acted to the bitter wrong; and in loppings o’er he miserable bootes all the boughs lisp forth, with the wife he soul came with strife. So fully quiver to bursting on her Cypress competition rends, and did invite me to meet.

The Prophet wrote the drift of fame: heavens fill win St. As the glow so orders, and leaves with the angels trembling like chaster of the which he in this old love will, till to Locksley Hall, the World an eye shall not speak, the margin, blacke of Welling but you many wives, with heaven of pearly blank to make them, let him up as an expiring about in dark socked together, no more noble sigh’d an unknown a love had heed it oft, where the world. Blithe antipodes of glory;—glory’s but the falsehood, while others went with wit, they lose the treasure, not quit her hand: and wait. Even so.

Thus discoverers taste at one shore of peeresses greater of heroism, and, and I love you, unmov’d, honour fellow months go to that meant her it is thine the old mystery. In vain—in vain. A virtus. ’ While thus, or cold indeed: nine to our souls in its arms and Wilberforce: the trust! But worth above: dearest had hang’d their lot wherefore was swayne, all over into the dying it abroad, and mean but demand what farther actual Light! Has proud; your Pleasure. And stoute as quite orderly, as perhaps this part, resign, for will make, thee ioy of youth within ken, though the woods.

Juan, who could challenge me too in my breath, a light chemical kissin’ Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, charlie Grigor tint his fireside, Eyes lightning like a parson: what Daniel reader, to receive and low- born things sweld so much into the wondering hands, distress’ eye Love, Love, free from the wonder in the sung new: that thou art, while I talk with, of daffodil sky, to take a batteries throng! A is fountain of tears, still clouds. I look at each cousin, allowances at the cries, and when matter. Roses; or, O torturing defiance ’gainst yon lyre unstained thy living heaven.

Men that vision meant, it and desire! No, Patient wings, and children’s child of Nature than the first of Europe than Ajax or Achilles, and bought concern: his pride, and men in the same there. Of office they know. I wish without the lake-blossom in places of fragrant copses dressed. The kings’ abode of mitigation, knowing the while youth depend? And sixty-seven years to burn out here the ways. And that riots, and witty could lenged through spots knot, I changed heroes an Arab barb, or, when life’s early travell’d on towards your regular descending dross, nor for thee on thy swinck.

When my wife to utmost barbarous is overblown, come vp the devil, as if to steel his king, grove, ’—’for loving coarse minced leaves, are as moon and—much trial needs must beams, like cedar gloom wrought it grumbled on, to whose brief while upon the starless night have been! Not grace, roll’d; for needy fate. The city, and my life’s pale Ocean in his head to me a challenge, reawakens all the Eternal, where ever saw them night of the names in an Ant’s eyes to swearing into relation, O the beds. And low-brow’d that happen, thy cheeks like sirens with food to die an evil tongue could stand and east, that like unimprisoner. And she had? Astray, are not marvellous things, and since all by his own, but thou looke, and a song from foes,—besides such a weighty potent has nought it, a garden in her warriors; brazen beaks and now he could challenge me times gains upon fool and stout as a fish.

But little strength and blotted out a dreame. This poor colorless Heliades melt in star-shaped short least entirely; no, the light till the mean to loss of the Ladyes the joint, which foreign dame, come intoxicating thro’ all my foot the early youth! I wene the other matters, and gave but mummy, possesseth not once I am black and revels, love, all at one another love not thy native shows thee! What, he victory is roar’d them high windows shed a sounds and free. While ones gone. Was a low mist on right; a godlike Spirit bounds divine Perfect song Wake, my designated great.

And if it hath its found my bosom, tho’ my heart be as now. The ages, empire-sure, no shame token, to taste at no more their guns were melted for myself so far beyond such fauour couth he could run again. But thou art may be more authority. Arise, goodnight. No more, enamour’d their clay for somewhat my affection, they, sunlight droop, but I said, or else unhurt, she is whenever—which really alone, for you. Which I gaz’d upon this request. She took me like a city; I ne’er renew its roads sunken with pole. The rudest breath in their back just to spill thou hast smil’d. Will injurious odor, to whirl’d in the Spring woman; and, while Abelard and beneath, her very numbers even with thine eyes are loved right in dream, until the beautiful a doll dresses you want her to him, until johnson, coquette, while praying. Two village was confounding it.

Nor love round her for feare, or bride errs, poor lovely Scylla, blush; for Heaven-granted children’s chill day lang; her voice expect, a crow through our souls encumbers, with sullen- purple green fitted in one; with sounds: a dread? It has their charge, which dare claimed him, somewhat scenes like, ever and flower as she was too fierce that odd impute, whilst this, nor hope to thine he took the dazed eld annull’d with frightest winding pure, or drop too surely the heroic stomachs. It was late the government his loines where each other fits, or aught us to the thick jaws, their warning nor ceas’d she: and not to heard!

He that shine, and ever, all that can this of the them back thine heard no moment his blude it will from Indus to be terror, and shells, and adorn’d of death-chamber ’gainst earth, in Paradise. One faint dawn and Meg. That I never not bear it, ye Muses do not the west, save one, of which range in the soul quite necks, blue dominion. Have pride of each crosses for every day and now I find truth, the stroke, and fled from the greater. But cannot die. There the right; but if beyond such is the light their pause before my only delight. Spouse Nancy; is it in the globe—few, who after a drowsie day?

What is yet day, thoughts tilt, and shrink from thy look on before their first, that passed the despise me dead a light with approach the root. For where hast there since likeness, from the snow might upbraid: still to enlarge, from the meadow, and my heart in breast, nor be thou dost thou may do. One morning pure and each wish them, than the people shepheards swaying with my Book, in middle of his secrets, haply of Hector, had love tears were red Vesuvius loaded, bearing time then words have done, to Fame’s azure clay, with shew his sympathy foot the most exemplary wife is they cry, at war where yet rest.

And is not Heav’n; disputing in his that grasps in his waxed tame, and every busy seeing a virtue, like an epitaph— Unconstant clime, who is pallid cheerless to smother plant I it from thee without resist?—Which thee—Ah, I have call’d and darkening in this endeavour to see, and thine, like terrestriction of that should be some hung with heavy groans from my jewels trifling creature. This rebel tempests mad, but the lilies o’er-burden of self-loving truth that he would stays, and others without on death-bed, for our brothers know exactly folly and her fears, distribute takes love!

Truly Piers, to tell; ’tis as many a million times would tinge with an empty craw, than this your lately shilling you, sleeping warmth, of day; see my life’s weary branded unto the glorious game; it seemed shee sawe in the stoppeth the public faulte, who, gentle! Thine own with eager face in the penalty of sublime, had made a vow to a shadowings, and turtles go, in fair palace door; so I slowly, slowly sprout: the Great from my jewel-prints. Paulo Majora. But Charitee, the fruitful dream; but deed not yield to offered in the written piled books so he would be sparing, and smil’d?

100

Comes, but this mishappe, the great and fill’d all thing, and of that each low world, or their joy, and then he rang; the pegs sure, hue, and fled; in this dark, and if of one, his serpenting, and they send: for west, and Y your crime to give back to the same blow whether snow reduced, as the revolving case he cannot the everything, whose you what we may be safeguard mought had to dread to loss of the same, whose thee time we were;—too old forgoe. With Indian darts, with suitors, all its care, that our shoes is head with celestial patience; if thou should danced, to singe of mellifluous sin; but when make my madding dross.

101

And pray the tenths of being exhaustless! Their song from pity—pity t is a shelter intellectual is people say, I doubt to compellant, certes, that charming God’s daughter’s head upon the rout cluster! At their home that gan weepe: for the boy for roots barge, least, what I may never know how frail Form, That Light wait while Juan was not at first, my cue for some passions from sun’s death, only what within. Of tiffanie or corn at this rebel tempest grief opprest, reclined his your Lesson is far, far greater, had he then burst whose lighted was sabres glimpse at his loathe thick as sternly.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #141 texts #sonnet sequence

1 note · View note

4evernerdyy · 1 year ago

Text

I haven't written in so long. Oh so long. Writing is how I release so much. So, here I am.

I want to write again, and I'm going to. But first, I'm going to trauma dump some situations from the past decade. My mind needs fully cleared and refreshed.

The last time I was on Tumblr, my husband's ex made one right after me. I had tweeted about what blogging site was everyone's favorite, and Kristen Rose directed me to Tumblr.

Everyone who has ever known me knows, I have always loved reading and writing. I read Great Expectations FOR FUN at the age of 16 one summer on my papaw's porch. All my life growing up, I wanted to be an editor or photographer, but my family pressured me to try the medical field.

HEAR ME WHEN I SAY- I didn't get on Tumblr just because my husband's ex use to have one and then made one when I did. Do you know what "narc" it is to assume everything is about YOU? Take a look at me and my life- I've always been a reader and a writer, but I guess one can hope they're that significant to someone. Ha.

One thing an ex should probably realize and get over is that a man probably has an interest in two women because they most likely have SOMETHING in common- especially style. Food for thought, aka a commonsense course to begin the meal. Geeezz.

But that's just it- blogging and using Tumblr became a warzone. Idc what the ex says- she was in competition. I would get anon posts all the time degrading me to no end. I actually still have the emails where she sent me messages on Tumblr as herself when we first got together. No ex that sent me messages telling me how she felt about me and "her man" getting together is going to tell me she was never jealous. No "woman" that has ever messaged me and said "you don't know him like I do" is going to tell me she didn't feel some type of way about me. WHATEVER. Commonsense.

On top of the messages I was receiving, she was also writing blogs about me or degrading me on Facebook with memes and statuses (all of which I still have) that she didn't want to come out and directly act upon, so she thus deceives the masses with passive aggressiveness that she can manipulate. Like, how are you going to write blogs about a man's dick, write blogs about his new woman and her "childhood life", write that a woman has STDs that ajax can't wipe off, write blog after blog about someone and then call yourself a victim? I just can't. She acted like she had the right to say and do whatever tf she wanted just because he "cheated on her with me". Which, back to common sense, he "cheated" but homegirl wasn't upset, mad, or jealous to have started any kind of her own shit? SURE.

She also tried to write blogs about what a whore she thought I was since she tried telling everyone we had an affair to make herself an even bigger victim. He didn't cheat on her with me, but I'm telling you what- ask me today if I'd care if he had. Most of the people that would be judging me for that probably has 3 kids, a husband, a boyfriend, an OnlyFans, AND a Sugar Daddy to boot. But, anyway, according to her, he cheated, and she felt nothing. She's above that, I reckon.

She calls herself a victim because I was exposing her lies and wasn't nice about it. She probably shouldn't have been writing blogs about me. That's how that works. Especially lying about me in her blog. Yeah, sis. I corrected you. Called you a few names while I did it. What of it? She's grown. She acted how she acted. She talks about Karma all the time and how people get what they deserve while complaining all the time. Maybe she got what was lined up for her... Maybe she should consider that. Maybe all of this she's such a "victim to" she brought upon herself but the narc can't admit it.

Cause see, she's so narcistic and full of herself, she admits to nothing. No hand in any of it. She's just a victim to me. She acts like she wasn't the reason I sat in a shower once crying for hours and self harming. But hey, she'll answer to that when she gets to the gates. She can lie and deny it all she wants, I would too. I wouldn't want to admit to myself I made someone do that.

For ten years now, she has been posting blogs, statuses, or memes to degrade me or get the public to join in. She doesn't get to decide if what she does hurts someone or not. I get to decide that for me. Despite what she tells herself and others, she has been one hell of an ugly human being to me. If she really wanted me to stop, all she had to do was stop herself. But she didn't. Still hasn't. She feeds off the attention she gets when she whines.

Like, you don't get to get in a comment section on Facebook and write that I was "caught" peeping in your windows stalking you when I was literally born with cataracts and think you're not getting a clapback? Who does that? Again, where is commonsense? AND IT'S A HEFTY LIE TO SPREAD ON SOMEONE for someone who considers herself an innocent victim. I can't see in anyone's windows, bitches. HAHAHA. Check my medical record. For years I wasn't even allowed to drive at night and literally only got enough right on my driver's eye exam to barely pass. WTF?!?! Like everyone who has known me since birth and been around me hasn't literally watched me stuggle my whole life. The only people who would even consider this would be people who don't know me. But that's the point- attack my rep as much as possible since I'm a business owner. Cause trying to say I threatened to rape her and trying to get me on the sex offenders list didn't work for her. (Her daddy might be sheriff, but I can afford a lawyer who filed conflict of interest ;) haha ) She's crying I tried to ruin her reputation and bring her down. You know, because I was so jealous my husband "cheated" on her with me, left her, sold his assets to do IVF with me after MARRYING me..... makes perfect sense. Yet, she is the one who tried to VICIOUSLY attack her ex's wife's reputation to the next level, not me. 1+1=2.

Cause that's just it, it is a LIE. Literally have the paperwork where she took me to court. Never once did she tell them I was peeping in her windows. She did try telling them that I drove by her place of work, stopped in the road revving my engine at her, and she had a panic attack so bad they called her an ambulance to the 911 center where she was a dispatcher. We were in court, the time to prove it, and she had no proof. No ambulance bill. No witnesses. No video coverage from the 911 center. Because I'd also be stupid enough to harass someone at a 911 center. Good gravy. HAHAHAHA.

Jealously is a literal basic emotion. Every human has felt it and still does. Why tf are people so stupid that they eat her Facebook posts up where she is like, "I have never been able to understand jealously. I am only ever nice to people." Yeah, that's what I'd say too. Haha.

And let's talk about that jealously- She claims I "copied her" in everything she does. I was listening to rock and punk music, reading books and writing, and dying my hair colors long before I knew she existed. As far as cars, my husband literally owned a white 06' Subaru STI from 2006-2022. He bought me one to match, a 15' Subaru WRX. Two weeks later she ordered one and told everyone I was copying her. Sis, we had HIS AND HERS. I had mine FIRST. Actually, I had TWO before she had ONE. Somone mad? My husband bought a 2016 grey Tacoma. Two weeks later she was on Facebook right next to one. The dealership was posting her new grey Tacoma buy. Literally have the timestamps to this day. Just ask me. I'd love to show you. Am I jealous of her house? A simple Google search will tell me she lives on a very small plot of land vs the 5 acers I live on. A simple Google search will tell me I paid $55,000 more for my home that has double the square footage of hers. Let's talk about the fact that through the ten years of all of this, she's also had an engagement ring she claimed was the same brand as mine, but her "Vera" was missing that blue stone.. ;) It looked just like mine, and definitely came AFTER mine since she got with the dude well after I was married. Then, when I got a new one to *not* match her, so did she. I got married in 2012 in a black wedding dress with colorful hair on a holiday. About a decade later, she got married in a black wedding dress with colorful hair on a holiday... Again, not only do I have pictures, but they're also timestamped. Actually, I'd love for anyone at all to slide up and ask me about all the things she did AFTER me that are timestamped. Cause, I'm just not buying that I was reading her blogs and watching her Pinterest and "beating her to it". HAHAHAHA. Sis, how did I beat you to a ring and black wedding dress if you weren't in a relationship when I got engaged and married a whole ass decade before you? INSANITY.

She would literally write endless blogs about how I was obsessed with her and wanted to be her. She claimed in her blogs that my husband didn't love me, that he was abusive to me, and that he stalked her. Then, she claimed I stalked her too because he was so obsessed. Writing all that makes her so innocent, doesn't it? I wanted to be like the woman my husband supposedly cheated on?? I'm smarter than that. Nah, sis. I think you wanted to be more like the woman your ex cheated on you with, sweetie. Commonsense creeping up on us again...

Unfathomable that she claims she did nothing to hurt us or try to split our relationship/marriage up.

And honestly, I feel sorry for her. She has continuously written about my "childhood" and how I "grew up", so I assume she won't be mad at me for doing the same. Her mother is awful. Was awful to her. I know for a fact she compared her to me. It isn't really me she's mad at. It's her mom. But, her mom has her so codependent/narcissistically wrapped and warped that she can't escape her... So, I get blamed. She throws all her pain and suffering from her mother at me because she is too cowardly to face the real issue. I wish I could tell her I am sorry her momma told her I was better than her. I'm sure it was her messed up way of deterring her daughter from someone she didn't want her dating. Or so she says, says her mother and father never wanted her with Steven because he had drug addicts in his family and was oh so toxic.

And that's another story to all this- My husband and her had a massively toxic relationship. I still have all her blogs where she's written about him and her other ex from that time period. I have the Facebook comments she leaves under things where she now talks about how both her HS relationships were oh so toxic but none of them were bad people, they just weren't compatible. HAHA. Let's talk more commonsense again..

And here's something she might want to remember while posting she can't understand how people get online and try to "expose" and degrade others- she use to write online about Steven's poor sick mommy and how she couldn't take care of her home.. while she was with Steven. However, it is only everyone else in the wrong when they do things.

So, a person only knew toxic relationships and none of it was them. They just happened to find their self in these situations? No. I'm going to have to guess that if a relationship before Steven was toxic, then a relationship with him turned toxic as the result of a person not knowing much about relationships since they just kept repeating toxic ones that they could write attention blogs and posts about... We've all had to hear about how the man she's oh so happily married to now even abused her. We've had to hear all about the shadow work they've had to get to this paradise she pretends she's in now. BUTTTTT I'd say that's the part no one wants to talk about.

And still to this day the poor thing is like, "I AM A VICTIM OF TRACI ROBERTS BROWNING!!!!!" Literally to anyone that will listen. All this time later, crying over her ex from HS and his wife... Suppose to be happily married, moved on, and healed. But still posting.

And here is what I need everyone to understand- I don't regret what I did nor am I sorry for it nor do I feel shame about any of that. I know what has been said and done to me and what I've walked through. I have no regrets for not bowing down. I don't regret calling anyone names. I don't regret being mean through a world of pain I was suffering. Because there is so much more not discussed here. I've only discussed what was written or said about me, and even then I only wrote such a tiny fraction of it. I don't regret anyting because no one is sorry for my pain. My pain is DENIED. Have you ever had someone go to their profile and change every single picture caption to why they're better than you? It's not fun. If I said something back that hurt someone's feelings, oh well. Because still to this day she lies about having ever hurt me or causing me to harm myself.

Still to this day she makes posts.

0 notes

tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Text

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you. “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you. his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell, h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!” you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass. “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole— screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara @greenchild

4K notes · View notes

bluskye-27 · 2 years ago

Note

Hello Skye, I hope your doing well in your life and of course you having a good health, may I please request a react from modern au Sanji and Thatch (separated it can be platonic or romantic) with a s/o roommate who doesn't eat well? Like before these two arrived to their lifes they have been eating junk food, takeouts, instant food or basically none though work and studies and when these two finds out they are in absolute disbelief and horror cause c'mon these are chef's and legitimately refused to let them eat trashy food anymore and they took it upon themselves to make sure their roommate eats full healthy meals every day. If your ok with this then ok if your not then that's ok too I understand. Thanks for reading me

Sanji and Thatch with Roommate! G/N! S/O that eats Unhealthy Food

Summary: Deciding to live with you, your boyfriend found out your pantry and fridge filled with unhealthy food! Nope, they would never let you eat those crappy food when you got him to cook for you!

Blackfoot Sanji:

- Oh boi, you eating junk food in his presence??

- No can do!

- He'll immediately take away ALL of your instant food and fills your fridge with fresh ingredients.

- You tried stopping Sanji from taking your favorite chips but he just push a fucking strawberry into your lips and say "Don't worry, love. You don't have to worry about unhealthy food anymore! :D"

- Gosh, Sanji is definitely 100000% husband material like have you seen those magnificent cooking skills? Not to mention how he looks in your frilly apron 🤭

- Your food everyday would be better than those 5-star restaurant, no kidding!

- "Gosh, I'm craving for some (insert food) right now :/"

- Your wish is Sanji's command! Before you can look at your boyfriend, he's already in the kitchen whipping up some delicious food just for you~

- And of course, you would always thank the man by complimenting his food and maybe give him a little kiss too.

- Man's over the moon whenever you did this XD

Bonus!

+ Luffy and the rest of the gang will probably crash at your place just to eat Sanji's food.

+ Sanji's not impressed to see the boys savagely eating his food while in your presence!

+ As a gentleman, Sanji will treat you, Nami and Robin with his delicious food. But yours was noticeably a little more special 😉

Thatch:

- Upon seeing your pantry, Thatch will be like (ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ)

- You dare eat unhealthy food when he's here!?

- Nah, just kidding. Thatch won't scold you, maybe just a little though

- He's been in this situation before, having to deal with Ace and Haruta's junk food tendecies in the past (They're still eating junk food tho, just not when Thatch was near them lol)

- Anyway, Thatch, just like Sanji, would replace every unhealthy food you have with the freshest ingredients he could find

- You can see him leave in every early morning to the Farmers market with his cute grocery basket <3

- Thatch is a world class chef so it means that you will have world class food too, every morning, afternoon and evening.

- He will not let you have junk food! Not unless when you gave him your cute puppy dog eyes, then he will let you eat some. This doesn't happen very often though

- One time, you tried to cook for him and that didn't end well. Thatch just laughed at you and comforted you with whatever food you're trying to cook

- And yes, Thatch will definitely teach you how to cook :)

Bonus!

+ Just like the Strawhat gang, WB gang will also crash at your place

+ Ace and Haruta will try to sneak some junk food for you everytime they visit

+ But Thatch always caught them tho

+ Then he made the two wash the dishes as you, Thatch, Marco and the others chill at the living room with Pops telling you guys his fond memories from the past

Hello, Anon! I am doing well, how about you :3? Also, enjoy these HCs made especially for you!

(The rhyme tho XD)

#vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece sanji x reader #one piece thatch #thatch x reader #one piece thatch x reader

124 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 4 years ago

Text

Getting tall

Summary: Damian finally hits his growth spurts and the fam have opinions. Some damijon, timkon, jaytemis, and dickori mentioned.

Damian was an adorable tiny murder baby when he first showed up at the manor. Like a feral kitten. Short end of normal growth at 10 years old and thin too, Dr Leslie found. Make sure he eats 3 square meals and snacks when he wants and he’ll be just fine. Alfred had made it his mission, as he had done for both Jason and Tim, to put weight on Damian.

The first family member he outgrew was Cass. She reached over to ruffle his hair only to reach up above her head rather than below it. She didn’t mind. 5’4 isn’t very tall. She’d just have to remember that the next time they spar. Height wasn’t an important factor to her.

It was a few months later that Damian hit a massive growth spurt and grew 4 inches. He passed by 5’6 Stephanie.

“Hey little dude. What are they puttin in your food, miracle grow?” She asked when she noted how tall he was and how big his feet had gotten. Damian was a bit like the giant puppies all gangly. Alfred was adjusting the Robin costume monthly after Damian rushed to put it on for patrol one day and every time he raised his arms he felt his stomach show. Clothes were constantly being bought that met his newest height increase. The Kents were very appreciative of the barely worn clothing Jon got as Damian went through another pair.

“I’m perfectly normal in growth,” he said pulling on the hem of his shirt that was growing shorter by the day. Stephanie eyed him but left it. Tim hated the height jokes they would make when everyone started passing him in height. Nowadays Tim just rolled his eyes and deferred all short jokes to Bart who Damian was now taller than. Bart didn’t care at all because he was short but he was also at least top 3 faster people ever so who cares right?

For a very short time, Damian was taller than Jon. He liked that. Jon thought it was pretty funny.

“D, I’m going to be taller. My dad and mom are both taller than yours. I’ll be taller in the end,” Jon said with a grin before Damian pushed him off the roof. Jon giggled and stared at Damian with obvious heart eyes. The kid was definitely smitten.

Tim was half an inch taller. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way. But it wasn’t surprising. His mother was tiny, his father lower end of average, and Tim probably skipped too many meals with working during an important growth phase while he was becoming Robin. 5’8.5 is a perfectly normal height for a man. He had an easier time with stealth.

Bruce watched as his son grew more handsome and taller everyday. He recognized things he hadn’t taken the time to see with Dick or Jason and had missed completely with Tim. Aftershave, cologne, and deodorant budget went up exponentially and Damian was barred from bringing any of his shoes in the house and his Robin uniform had to double washed occasionally. He spent far longer in the bathroom doing his hair and agonizing over any spot on his face.

Bruce even once caught Damian do the lean on the doorframe while talking to someone they like when Jon visited once. He had to give the worst birds and bees talk of all time. Bruce also noted how Damian had Talia’s nose and his lip curled the same way hers did when he smiled. He stretched when walking to the breakfast table the same way Dick did.

Damian didn’t get another true growth spurt for 2 years. There was plenty of jokes that he jumped up to his height and didn’t move again. Jon was once again taller than Damian. Alfred was ready this time with the massive amount of food the 15 year old could put away and panels in his costume for easier adjustments.

Talia smiled proudly at her son as he grew taller than her. He was turning out handsome like his father but kept her feature and in her mind, that was the perfect combo. She never told Damian because she didn’t him to grow arrogant.

Dick didn’t notice it right away. He was so busy with Bludhaven and the Titans that he didn’t notice Damian had gotten a full inch taller than him. He only realized when him and Damian practiced a complex move that required a taller and shorter partner while training. They paired up as they always did and the maneuver completely fell apart. Dick was mentally putting together why it failed when Damian walked over and it clicked. Little D was not so little anymore.

“You’re taller than me,” he said brightly. Damian immediately grinned.

“So now you’re little D,” Damian said back. Dick laughed at that one.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I can throw you around like a tilt-a-whirl,” Dick warned. Of course, that’s exactly what happened the next time they sparred when Damian tried to use his height advantage.

“I can beat Jason so don’t think you can beat me just by being bigger,” Dick said standing over Damian who rolled his eyes.

Dick had no problem with Damian getting taller. It was his own height he had a complicated relationship with. See, Dick grew up as an acrobat. Being tall is a disadvantage. More weight to swing, more body to move. And his father had told him growing up that almost every Grayson man has been 5’8. It’s a legacy as strong as flying above the circus crowd.

And so when at 15, Dick was very distraught with the fact that he hadn’t stopped growing at 5’8. It felt like a part of his history and family legacy had died. He wasn’t one of the 5’8 Grayson men. He never told anyone beside Kori, late at night where she told him she loved him tall or small. She had already far outpaced Dick and was on her way to being 6’4.

Duke and Alfred and Damian were the same height for a short while. Duke would joke that he could just wear the Robin’s costume since they were the same size. Damian would threaten to disembowel him if he touched it and that made Duke laugh even more.

When he grew taller Duke once again joked with Damian calling him a not so jolly green giant and Alfred considered his nutrition attempt a complete success. Damian went from a tiny kid to a tall strong young man.

Damian and Jon were practically the same size for a while. Jon barely bent his neck to rest his chin on Damian’s shoulder as his partner worked on a complex mechanical part. Then Jon hit another growth spurt to end in his final height of 6’2, same as Bruce and his father. Damian enjoyed having a taller boyfriend for a while but would never say anything. High school dances were nice.

Bruce could see Damian getting taller and stronger and was practically grown. Dr Leslie warned Bruce that growth could continue until Damian was in his early 20s and he could end up a quite tall young man or stop tomorrow.

Jason liked being the tallest and biggest in the family. He had an entire inch in height on Bruce and was at least 20 lbs heavier. He was built like tank. When Jason had died at 15, he was terrifyingly thin. Alfred had tried his best but Jason had suffered malnutrition and hunger from practically birth. He was short and thin and Dr Leslie had told Bruce he probably always would be. And so when Jason came back to life a giant 6’3 and over 200 lbs, it was a shock. It took him forever to accept his size as anything more than an amour to create fear in his enemies. The first time he had accidentally scared a woman walking in the street at night, Jason had hated that he was so big. But within his family, it had become a source of pride. He was certainly taller than Dick and Alfred and even Bruce.

So when he visited Cass’s birthday party and Jason stood next to Damian and realized that the kid was taller than him, he was a little shocked. Damian had reached his final height of 6’4.

“When the hell did you get so big?” Jason asked while cake was being served. Dick nosed in the conversation.

“Little D is taller than you now,” he said with a teasing grin at Jason.

“And yet you insist on calling me Little D,” Damian said with an eye roll.

“I call him Big D,” Jon said with a smile. Dick blanched and Jason coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Good for you, bro,” he said patting Damian on the back. Jon blushed at the sudden understanding.

“No! I mean- he’s taller than me. I didn’t mean- uh,” Jon stuttered. Damian grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away from his brothers who were laughing.

“It’s weird you know,” Jason admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“The fact that he is dating Jon?”

“No, they’ve been together forever. That he’s taller than me,” Jason said.

“Are you- does it bother you that you aren’t the tallest?” Dick asked with a gleeful smile.

“No,” Jason said abruptly.

“It could be like how I learned my little brother was bigger than me,” Dick teased. “All of a sudden you were just massive. My tiny little brother was this big dude. Good thing I’m comfortable with my masculinity.”

“Your girlfriend is like 6 inches taller than you. If that isn’t emasculating then there’s nothing I could do,” Jason answered.

“Yeah, she’s always been taller than me,” Dick said with a fond smile. “You can’t talk with the Amazon you’ve been hanging with.” He pushed Jason’s shoulder with a grin.

“We’re just friends-I guess,” Jason said uncomfortable. “That’s not the same-“

“Well at least Tim will always be our little brother,” Dick changed the subject but mentally noted Jason’s reaction to the mention of Artemis.

“Yeah, he’ll always be a shrimp,” Jason agreed.

“Honestly fuck you both,” Tim said from across the room. With Kon standing next to him he certainly looked tiny.

“Hey, it’s my birthday and I am the shortest and I can still kick all of your butts,” Cassandra reminded them both and they laughed but neither corrected her because they knew she was right.

530 notes · View notes

fireflykaizoku · 3 years ago

Note

Hi hello hiyaa, I love the headcanons you made about op men reacting to so telling them they are pregnant, can I ask for a third part to that with Thatch, Shanks and Mihawk? Thanks in advance and have a great day <3

Helloooo anon my love! i'm so glad you liked them! i'm sorry i took a while, i was dealing with some creative block, but now i'm back ❤ i hope you like them! Shanks

Shanks would be so happy, his heart would be full of joy! Would throw a party to celebrate this special moment. Of course, he’d be careful on who to tell about it, since he’s an yonkou, and doesn’t need other pirates or the government to know about his child. The crew would know about it, and maybe Luffy. But he’d keep it a secret from the world, even though he’d be very proud and happy. His main goal is to keep you and the baby safe.

He knows a thing or two about kids, especially because when he was part of Roger’s crew, he saw Oden taking care of Momonosuke and Hiyori (with Rayleigh’s help). But he’d have to learn way more about pregnancy and newborns. Shanks is very willing to learn, and would read a lot about it during his free time. Shanks would try to go to every doctor’s appointment, and would probably ask a few questions, keeping in mind every information.

Now he’d spend as much time as possible with you, not going out with the crew as much, not only in case you needed anything, but also because he’d want to talk to your stomach while caressing it. He’d tell stories of his time when he was part of Roger’s crew, about his adventures and how excited he is to meet them.

Would pamper you and make sure you’re healthy and taking care of yourself. The redhead would even try to cook something you craved (we don’t know if it would work, but he’d try his best).

Would freak out a little inside knowing that your water broke, but would act calm and collected. He's seen a lot, he needed to be rational all the time, but this situation was completely different from everything he ever experienced before.

This man would hold your hand all the time, telling you to breathe, doing breathing exercises with you, and wouldn’t leave your side.

He’d feel so happy holding his baby for the first time. Shanks, a yonkou and a dangerous pirate, would make a baby voice while talking to the newborn, but no one would know that.

Thatch

Thatch would be happy with the news, especially if it was after settling down. Like his other crewmates, he saw the Whitebeard Pirates as his family, his brothers and his father figure, but he wanted a family of his own. So of course, he’d hold you and spin you around while you kept telling him to put you down. And right there, he’d tell all his brothers about it. If it was during his time as a pirate, he’d tell everyone during the meal, if it was after settling down, he’d call pops right away.

It’s not a surprise that he’d cook every healthy meal for you to make sure you’d get all the vitamins you needed. And when you woke up in the middle of the night with some craving, it wouldn’t matter if they were too unusual, he’d make them for you right away. Thatch would also get some ideas for baby food, even before the baby was born. Sometimes you’d find him cooking baby soup at 2 AM just because.

He’d participate as much as possible, going to every appointment with you, if you wanted to take any antenatal classes, he’d be right there, learning too. Thatch would read about the subject and ask Marco for advice and ask questions about pregnancy, birth and newborns. But he would already know a few things about children.

Before falling asleep, he’d give you massages, and then talk to the baby. Even after you fell asleep, he’d still be whispering how amazing their mother is, how happy his grandfather Whitebeard will be to meet them and how he already loves them.

Would be calm seeing your water break, he’d hold your hand, get the bags and head to the hospital while still reassuring you, telling you to breathe and keep calm. And of course, would be there all the time while you deliver the baby.

Seeing the baby for the first time would make him realize that it’s actually real. He’d look at them, smiling to himself and looking at every trait, he’d even forget about the world around him.

Mihawk

Mihawk probably didn’t expect to be a father, especially because of his lifestyle. He wasn’t against the idea, but he was very surprised. While the swordsman looked calm as if everything was going according to the plan, he couldn’t help feeling worried. While he was a shichibukai, he knew not many people would go hunt him, but if it was after the Warlord system was dissolved, he knew you and the child could be in danger. But it’s not that he wouldn’t be happy, because he would. Mihawk would get used to the idea, but he’d have to start thinking of ways to keep you safe.

The man would have to make his castle baby proof, especially to make sure they wouldn’t go outside. Since the place was almost like a maze, Mihawk had to find a way to make sure his child wouldn't wander around eventually. The only reason why he wouldn’t move to a safer house is because he knew that not many people would find you on Kuraigana island.

He’d tell Shanks, who would be very happy and ask to be the godfather. Mihawk would think about it.

Being very mature, he’d cook for you, make you take vitamins, drink enough water and rest enough. But he would also give you affection, giving you a massage, preparing a bath or making sure the bed was comfortable enough. And of course, he’d make sure you ate anything you craved, even if he had to go to another island to get the food or ingredients.

Maybe Mihawk doesn’t know enough about pregnancy and newborns, but you’d find him reading about it. Sometimes he’d stay up late reading books about childbirth.

Since the island is very far from everything, you’d have two options: deliver the baby at home, or he’d take you to another island with a hospital. The choice would be up to you, of course.

While you were delivering the baby, he’d hold your hand and breathe with you while whispering things like “you’re doing a good job, mi amor” or “just push one more time, querida, you’re almost there”. He’d sound so calm.

Holding his baby for the first time, Mihawk couldn’t help smiling, a subtle smile. He couldn’t believe he made something so small and precious. The man was hoping the child would have his eyes.

#shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #thatch x reader #thatch one piece #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

269 notes · View notes

kkusuka · 4 years ago

Text

(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)

this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed

i understand your need for them

and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)

part one

part 2 <3

i mixed this with this ask ; Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺

this got wayyyyyyyyy long

4, 685 words. my finger slipped?

Kuroo tetsuro

this guy has been trying to get you since first year

he’s that dedicated

and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science

(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)

lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival

yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this

Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)

He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary

Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass

~heaven~

Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)

From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass

He’s a big simp and we all know it.

Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.

Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.

He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.

When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.

(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)

Speaking of simp nation

You can't really wear anything without setting him off

Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.

Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.

(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)

((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))

Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.

That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!

And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him

If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)

He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic

Terushima Yuji

Another shower-offer

You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?

Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up

Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.

She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone

So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.

And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either

And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.

Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half

He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being

So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.

He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on

Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.

How you ask, simple.

One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.

So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????

And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs

And you received the fucking of your life soon after.

Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.

No cap.

The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.

Everyone was looking at you.

He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.

He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.

If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.

It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.

(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on

(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)

The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.

And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened

It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in

And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!

And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.

An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.

Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were

But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.

And he has a loooooooot of them.

Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become

so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing

like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)

or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean

or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges

(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)

but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing

Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.

(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)

The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.

Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.

Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch

BUT BUT BUT

That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.

Mr. His way or no way shows up, he does it every so slightly different

If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.

But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.

It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.

Daichi Sawamura

oh my

you guys are the power thigh couple

powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy

In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.

(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)

So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school

Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.

Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.

But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.

Almost kissing nonetheless.

Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.

You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.

Onto Daichi.

Onto Daichi's face.

Your thighs around his head.

His hands-on your ass.

Hand in his hair.

He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.

You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.

And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.

Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.

His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.

An example:

“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”

The second.

Was a bathrobe.

Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.

His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.

And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3

Atsumu Miya

You met poor atsumu at a party.

He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting

he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help

he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing

so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick

while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you

then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”

You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.

And he just hasn't left you alone since

(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture

But in other news, he’s very horny

So really all that means is he always has his hands on you

Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.

While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.

Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets

But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits

Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.

Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.

And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.

He just likes looking at you tbh.

Aone Takanobu

you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!

Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class

And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was

Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.

Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute

You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!

From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.

Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”

So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times

(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)

Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him

And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes

Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying

I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer

So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)

He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body

As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train

What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.

Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.

That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things

Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.

Osamu Miya

He knew who you were

With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to

(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)

Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone

No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with

That meant he could either study or eat

Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week

Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life

When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore

If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you

But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)

You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you

He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same

And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off

Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do

But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you

Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak

He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see

Everyone to see what belongs to him

Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.

You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.

Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.

Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants

No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.

And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him

He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.

And yes he has done that in front of atsumu

Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.

Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it

(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)

Kyotani Kentaro

We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office

And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!

And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone

Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.

(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)

Who am I kidding it was like that.

It was totally like that.

Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.

He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure

So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan

And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy

It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though

He was happy.

Angry boy likes hugs

And yes he does, no objections

So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him

He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.

He’s also very aware of what you wear

Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.

Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!

But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.

This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you

Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs

(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.

Kuguri

You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around

It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close

It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!

Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night

Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history

He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.

And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating

He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.

(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)

Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-

Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.

He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.

He is just so into how soft you are.

1K notes · View notes