#we're making wonderful improvements

[rindemption]

I have spent two years working on getting my in-law's cat to warm up to me, and the past couple days she's been perfectly okay to get picked up and sit on my lap for a couple minutes 😌 I feel so accomplished

[lunasilvis]

Currently done with grown-ups renouncing or deciding not to communicate their problems and stumbling points by avoiding the hard parts – especially when it’s replaced by exiting via easy ways out, suiting their styles and energy best.

Holy damn, I get that this modern world teaches us that nobody is entitled to our words and explanations. That we firstly should preserve ourselves, protect our own peace, before looking after another. I agree with it- until the point when it involves a bond both people are clearly invested in, repeatedly have showed up for one another in the past, for better or worse. Wouldn't trip over it if it involved casual friendships. So it crosses a line to me when it gets to the point where you know that your actions (and inactions), absence of communication and willingness to mend by talking are affecting someone else's well-being.

Yes, I get it too that life is hectic as it is - it yanks & tugs at us from all directions and drains our capacity to communicate. So many things require our attention and energy already, so I resonate too when said "communication is easier in theory".

However, it's really not cool to be left hanging mid-air, spend the remainder of your time guessing about whether or not there's any unspoken full disclosure.

It is not ok to pop up out of the blue over something ridiculous and questionable, avoid a knotty problem, then right before a specific date, back out again. To both, how is that fair? How could this ever gratify?

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[mekatrio]

i wonder what abomination aonuma & co are cooking up for the switch 2

[disdaidal]

I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

[gauntletqueen]

Imagine you meet this really cool girl online and hit it off and then after a bit when you go to meet up in person she texts you "please don't be mad" and reveals she's actually a bug capable of accessing the internet with her mind. Is this an improvement? Workable? A dealbreaker?

It'd be such a rare thing, I think I'd have to at least try to make it work! I mean, there was a spark, right? It would depend on what kind of bug, though. I'm envisioning a beetle due to Kafkaesque reasons, but I have a phobia for wasps due to childhood trauma (Which I do not blame the wasps for, it was the neglect of grownups that caused this fear) so if she was a wasp that might be a problem.

Anyway, I'm asexual, so it's not like that'd be a deal-breaker in the relationship, and sharing my apartment would be a lot more doable if she's a small bug, too! She wouldn't need to eat as much as a human either, so that'd save money.

One thing I'm wondering though, can she also talk? She can access the internet with her mind, but if that, along with her fully developed thought similar to a human, is the extend of her special traits, it'd make communication more difficult. I'd have to grab my phone every time she wants to say something to me because the only way she can do so is to send me messages? That'd be very annoying, and then I'd have to get a data plan for when we're on the go... Plus I've just started trying to use my phone less! Hmm, what a conundrum...

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Now (PT. 2)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

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"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can��t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed. 

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ��let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex

Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.

That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.

It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby. 

You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—

I don’t want you to get bored. 

It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days. 

Art Donaldson. 

You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage. 

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks. 

You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine. 

“We’ll start with the basics.” 

-- 

Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go. 

Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.” 

On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him. 

You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you. 

But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace. 

-- 

“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.” 

Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days. 

“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?” 

“No.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches. 

“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?” 

He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?” 

He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit. 

“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.” 

“Lily?” 

A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.” 

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.  

“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.” 

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?” 

“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?” 

“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.” 

“...He seems to be pretty busy.” 

“He is.” 

“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?” 

“Play tennis.”

He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound. 

“It shows, you know,” He says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.” 

You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.

“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm. 

“Just good?” He plies. 

“The best. A real pro.” 

His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little. 

The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat. 

“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?” 

“She’s killing it.” 

You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it. 

“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 

“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.” 

“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds. 

“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—

“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.” 

“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.” 

You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.

“Maybe.” 

--  

You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him. 

His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw. 

When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap. 

-- 

Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch. 

Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies. 

He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud. 

It spurs you to lunge a little too far. 

The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side. 

“What hurts?” 

“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left. 

“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.” 

For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 

When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand. 

You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?” 

“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort. 

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”

“I'm still going, don't worry about that."

“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns. 

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.” 

Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips. 

“Of course.” 

-- 

“How’s the ankle?” 

It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again. 

You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks. 

“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Good enough to walk on?” 

Hardly. 

“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.

“I have,” You insist, “All day.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes.” 

“You can tell him no, you know.”

Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again? 

You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up. 

-- 

I invited Art. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all. 

Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days. 

It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely. 

You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room. 

“Almost ready in here?” He asks. 

“All set!” 

-- 

He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile. 

You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.

The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds. 

You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—

Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests. 

You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself. 

“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves. 

“Wanted to come say hi.” 

“Well. Hi.” 

You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet. 

“Thanks for the invite.” 

“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours. 

“He isn’t taking care of you.” 

“My ankle is fine.” 

“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down. 

Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—” 

He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh. 

You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip. 

“Condom?” He asks. 

“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.

“Art.” 

“Sssh.” 

“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip. 

“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—” 

“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.” 

“Art—” 

“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?” 

“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm. 

“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties. 

“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room. 

--  

“Can I see you?” 

It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.

“You just saw me,” You remind him. 

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies. 

“Where?” 

“I’ll send an address.” 

You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk. 

“...You regret it?” He asks. 

“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.

“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do. 

--  

You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck. 

“Is this Lily?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.” 

“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.” 

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully. 

“Art?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why am I here?” 

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer. 

“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.” 

Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”

“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.” 

-- 

When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up. 

And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.

--

"What time is he home tonight?"

You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.

But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.

"I don't know," You admit. "Late."

"...Could stay."

"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."

Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it."

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."

He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"

You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

We're Going To Get Along Just Fine

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- You go home with a mysterious woman from the bar.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI- One night stands, Au no powers, Dom Reader/Sub Wanda, Oral sex, Fingering, Waking someone up with sex, Multiple Orgasms

This is an old fic I found from my ao3 so the writing quality isn't that good, apologies but I don't have the time to improve it.

General Master List

W/c- 1.9k

“What can I get for you love?” asked the redhead behind the bar. She was a gorgeous woman who you could tell easily had people on their knees for her. Sadly that wasn’t what you were looking for as you could tell she was definitely the dominate type, you wanted someone begging beneath you tonight so she was out of the equation. You read the name tag on her bartender uniform before answering.

“What do you suggest Natasha?” she looked you up and down before leaning forward showing off her breasts and bringing a finger to her chin as if she was thinking.

“How about sex on the beach?” You laughed at her before saying ‘why not’ with a shrug of your shoulders. She fixed your drink while making small conversation. “So what’s a young girl like you doing here all by yourself?”

“Drowning my sorrows with the best solution,” you say while holding your drink up. “Also plan on bringing another girl home with me. Got any tips for me?” you asked while taking a sip of your drink. The bartender looks around before catching the eyes of a woman across the room. She’s noticed the woman staring at you for a while so she decides to help you out.

“There’s a stunning woman sat at the booth in the left corner all by herself,” she starts making another drink as well as fixing you a whiskey as she heard you mention your taste for them. “She’s been looking at you for a while so take this,” she hands you a drink identical to the one the mysterious woman has been drinking along with a small glass of whiskey for you.

“Thanks Natasha,” you say while paying her and taking the drink to the woman.

“Excuse me,” you say snapping the woman out of her thoughts. You take in her long, wavy brown hair that complements the captivating green of her eyes and how her cheeks blush ever so slightly when she sees you. Her dress was a simple thing but it hugged her curves perfectly and showed enough of her breasts for you to get a good view. You could see her long legs as well as she placed one leg over the other and moved to face you. “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice such a beautiful woman sitting by herself. May I join you?” You watched how her blush slightly became more visible before motioning to the seat.

“Of course have a seat,” she said. You noticed her accent and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like when she was begging. You cleared your throat before sitting and offering her the drink. She happily took it and had a sip while you had a little whiskey for extra confidence. “I’m Wanda,” she said while looking you up and down.

“Well Wanda,” you say while leaning forward. You notice her looking at your lips and subconsciously wet them before catching her eyes. The green you saw before was now mere slivers as her eyes were full of lust and want. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

As soon as she let you into her apartment you pushed her against the door and slotted your knee between her legs. She moaned against your lips and you took that as the chance to slip your tongue into her mouth. The kiss was hungry and desperate as she pulled you by the belt to press her harder into the door. She whimpered when you pulled away from her lips to kiss along her jaw and neck.

“No marks please,” she moaned as you kissed on the sensitive juncture of her neck. You hummed against the soft skin before trailing your hands up her body. Your mouth made its way to her earlobe while your hands teased the underside of her breasts through her dress.

“What do you want from me,” your tone was sultry and it made Wanda’s knees weak.

“Please fuck me,” she whined as her hips started to grind along your knee. You chuckled lowly, sending shivers down her spine before you pulled away.

“As you wish,” you whispered before dropping to your knees. Your hands ran along the back of her legs and inched their way upwards until they reached the back of her thighs. You slowly dragged your nails down her smooth skin before you hitched up the fabric of her dress so your face could be near where she wanted you. “So wet for me,” you murmured at the skin of her inner thighs as you could see the visible wet spot on her underwear. “May I?” You asked while slipping your fingers under the waistband of her underwear.

“Yes please,” she sighed out and you pulled the piece of clothing down her legs. Your hot breath caused Wanda to moan and the feeling of your fingers gently running through her folds made her head spin. Yes she came to the bar to have a quick fuck but god she didn’t imagine to have someone drive her this mad. You hadn’t even touched her yet and she felt like she could come. You gathered her wetness before circling her clit slowly. You heard the breathless sighs leave her lips and decided to switch it up as you wanted her to be a mess for you. You thrusted two fingers straight into her core and saw her back arch off the wall at the feeling. You leaned forward to place a kiss on her clit before taking it into your mouth and sucking on it. Her moans echoed off the walls as you relentlessly took her against her front door. You felt her start to tighten around your fingers and curled them so they hit her g-spot. A broken moan left her lips as she tried to grind down on your hands to bring her over the edge.

“Look how good your taking me,” your tone sultry as she clamps a hand over her mouth to contain her moans. She throws her head back hitting it against the wall as you slip in another finger, stretching her walls so perfectly it almost had her coming on the spot. “Don’t keep quiet love, I want to hear you,” you say before taking her clit in your mouth again. The feeling of your mouth, fingers and your words sends her over the edge, coming with a guttural scream. Her hips move on their own she rides out her orgasm. Once she calms down you pull out and move back up her body. She laces her fingers through your hair and kisses you, groaning when she tastes herself on your lips. You tug on the bottom of her dress in a silent question and she pulls the garment over her head, leaving her in nothing but her lacy bra. You groan at the sight and pick her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. You can feel her wetness soaking through your shirt as her bare cunt rubs against your toned stomach.

“Bedroom, please,” she whines and you pull her from the door. She guides you around her apartment and chuckles against your lips as you stub your toe on her sofa. You finally make it into the bedroom without dropping her and place her on the bed. You crawl on top of her and press your lips back to hers. She spins the two of you around and straddles your waist. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she says as her hands work on unbuttoning your shirt. You pull your belt off and unfasten your pants while she pulls your shirt off your shoulders. She lifts herself so you can pull your pants down leaving you naked beneath the woman. Her hands rest on your shoulder as you move forward to unclasp her bra and throw it somewhere in the room. You take her breast into your mouth, sucking on her nipple causing a string of moans to leave her mouth as her hips roll against yours. A groan leaves your lips as you feel her heat grind along yours. Your hands make their way to her behind and you grip the flesh before guiding her hips into a quick rhythm.

“God you’re so beautiful,” you rasp out as her mouth hangs open in pleasure. With one hand you move to rub fast tight circles against her clit.

“I’m so close,” she whimpers and the sound of her thick accent is making you go crazy. You’re already addicted to her. The taste of her against your lips, the breathless sighs that leave her mouth, the feeling of her bare pussy grinding along yours. It’s intoxicating.

“Beg for it,” you say while panting on her lips. “Tell me how much you want to come.”

“Oh god,” she groaned out and you snap her hips hard against yours, a new spike of pleasure running through her. “Please let me come. You’re making me feel so good and I just want to come. Let me be good please, let me come for you. I want to be your good girl.” You growl against her lips as you speed up the movements of your hand on her clit and the rolling of her hips.

“You want to be my good girl?” you murmur at her jaw, nibbling slightly. “Then come for me. Now.” The tone of your voice sends her straight over the edge and her hips stutter and tremble from another orgasm. You slow the pace until you feel her moving her hips by herself again. “Think you can do one more my love?” you whisper. She nods her head and guide her hips again so she’s brushing against your clit perfectly. “Such a good girl for me,” you rasp out, “I’m so close.” Wanda moves her fingers so they can rub your clit and your hips buck at the feeling.

“Please come for me, I want to be a good girl and make you come,” she purrs at your ear and your hips start to tremble. You rub as fast as you can into her clit and that’s all it takes for you both to fall over the edge. You moan against each other’s lips as you continue to grind against each other like animals until you finally come down from your highs. She goes limp above you and you place a gentle kiss against her forehead as you catch your breath. As soon as you can feel your legs again you roll her over onto her back and move to find her bathroom. Wanda starts to drift in and out of sleep as you clean her and grab her clothes and fold them onto her cabinet.

“Stay?” she asks sleepily and you look at your phone quickly to check the time. It was currently two am and you didn’t fancy travelling all the way home. You joined her in the bed and she quickly made her way over to you to cuddle.

A soft whimper left your lip as you slowly woke up with a pleasurable feeling. You gradually opened your eyes to see Wanda staring up at you, her tongue deep inside you. You groan at the sight before moving your hands into her hair as she eats you out. It doesn’t take you long to come against her tongue and your whole body shakes as you ride out the high.

“That’s definitely the best way I’ve ever woken up,” you breathlessly say earning a chuckle. She crawls back up your body and lays flush against you as your lips press together.

“That was to say thank you for last night,” she mumbles on your lips and you smile.

“Oh yeah?” you say while rolling her over. “Do you have any plans for today?” She bites her lip and shakes her head. “Good cause I’m not letting you leave this bed,” you whisper with a smirk before crashing your lips together.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 39 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley would never forgive himself if you got hurt. It feels like he's been biding his time for ages, and his patience has worn thin. When Maverick returns to base, things finally start to change, but in whose favor?

Warnings: Angst, adult language, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You settled on the couch with the new ultrasound photos from our appointment on Monday, eager to show them to your parents. But Bradley had other ideas.

"Roo," you hissed, pulling his hand away from your chest while you looked at your reflection on the iPad screen. "Knock it off."

"I'm horny," he whispered against your neck. You could hear the whine in his voice. He'd been very understanding when you told him that you needed to work late the past few days to help Cat, especially after you explained that she was bogged down with extra work because of Indigo. But now he was pouting on the couch with his other hand slipping into the back of your leggings while the call to your parents connected.

Your mom's voice rang out as Bradley grabbed your butt. "Hi!"

"Hi, Mom!" you replied, voice entirely too peppy as you tried to scoot away from your husband. You shot him a glare as he smirked and finally folded his hands in his lap. "How's packing going?"

"Oh, it's so stressful," she complained, going into a rant about all of the bins of things she'd been saving since you were a kid. You let her ramble, knowing she was secretly excited to be able to let Rose and the second baby play with your old toys someday after they moved to Coronado. Bradley and your dad sat quietly until your mom took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Now you felt like pouting. They would be moved into their new house in time for Christmas but not Thanksgiving. "Probably making dinner for our friends. Just hanging out with everyone here," you told her with a shrug.

"No."

You turned to look at Bradley who was shaking his head. 

"What do you mean no?" you asked. "Are you going to cook Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? Your kitchen skills are much improved, Roo, but that seems a bit ambitious."

Bradley snorted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. "You're not cooking. I'm not cooking. We won't even be here, Baby Girl," he whispered. Then he turned to face the iPad. "I'm taking my girls away for an anniversary trip. We'll be gone that weekend."

Your mom looked like she was going to swoon. "Really?" you asked, letting his hand creep up your thigh toward your belly. "We're going away?"

Bradley's eyes held innocence as he grinned. "Yeah. Don't you remember when I asked you just the other day if you'd prefer the mountains or the lake?"

"Oh," you whispered. You did remember. He had been fingering you at the time, your pussy slick and full of his cum. When your cheeks grew warm, you realized you did not want to have the rest of this conversation with your parents listening in. "Yes, I do recall that, actually." You cleared your throat. "We should let you go. It's late."

"But we didn't get to talk to Rose!" your dad complained.

"She's still taking her after-dinner nap," you told him apologetically. "Maybe tomorrow! Love you!"

When you ended the call, Bradley was already tugging on your shirt. "Please," he murmured. "I'm so horny. I'll do anything you want. On the couch, in bed, in the shower, anything you want, Sweetheart."

"I want you to tell me where we're going, Roo," you replied sweetly as he pulled your shirt over your head and palmed your breasts through your sports bra. It was a wonder he could get hard right now after he'd seen you wearing your maternity tent less than an hour ago.

"Mountains," he grunted, pulling you closer.

You knew he was planning something, but you didn't know it was already worked out. "I'm impressed," you told him as you carefully removed your bra. "You did this all by yourself?"

"Nothing's too good for my girls." His voice was raspy, already fading into the silent room as he eased you onto his lap. You fed Rose not terribly long ago. You were tired. Your breasts weren't very perky at the moment. But Bradley moaned as soon as his lips met your nipple. His cock was hard against your thigh as you settled in.

With his big hand splayed along the side of your growing bump, you let him get his fill of rubbing his nose and mustache all over your chest. Your back arched as he started grinding his hips up to yours.

"Does this mean we can get nasty on the couch?" he whispered, flashing his brown eyes up to yours. When you giggled, he added, "It's been days." Part of you wanted to tell him that your back hurt and you couldn't handle getting twisted into a pretzel right now, but you slid down to the floor between his legs, his eyes tracking your every move. "What are you doing?" he mumbled, a little grin finding his lips as you tugged on the waistband of his gym shorts.

"Stop acting like you don't know I'm about to suck your dick," you whispered, trying not to laugh as his cock bobbed out from his underwear.

A soft sound at the back of his throat spurred you on. He simultaneously scooted his hips closer to you while he settled back against the couch. "I didn't want to assume," he murmured, eyes wide as you took him between your parted lips. "Fuck. I'm so spoiled."

You hummed your response around his cock which had his head tipping back as he reached for your face. Big, calloused fingers brushed along your cheek before trailing to the back of your head. You controlled the pace, but that bit of pressure from his excited hand made you suck a little harder just to hear his appreciation.

Long, languid strokes had Bradley's restraint slipping. After he tapped the back of your throat his hips rose incrementally from the couch. When your tongue circled his tip, his hips were up again. He was eager to cum, so you slowed your pace.

"Jesus," he whimpered, balls tightening as you sucked on them. You could feel your saliva drip down his cock to your face as you ran your tongue in circles. "Keep this up, and you'll never not be pregnant, Sweetheart."

Before you could react, Bradley was pulling you to your feet, careful not to be too rough. He yanked your leggings down and guided you back to his lap.

He was big and thick, but your body welcomed him as he filled your pussy. "You're getting a vasectomy after this one, Roo."

He gasped, whether from your words or from the way your pussy was already squeezing around him with need, you weren't sure. You wanted to reiterate that two kids was plenty for you and he to handle, but his palm met your butt, guiding you in a slow roll that erased all thoughts from your brain.

"We'll talk about that later," he crooned, kissing your lips softly. "Right now, I want you to think about how bad you need me." You moaned in spite of yourself at his cocky words. "I want you to think about how good Daddy takes care of his girls."

"Oh, god," you whimpered, bouncing on his cock. "You do. You do," you babbled. One swipe of his finger along your clit, and you were seeing stars. Hadn't he been the one begging for this? How did you become the needy one right now? "Fuck!"

You were panting as he guided you along, taking you for everything you had until your face was buried against his neck to quiet yourself as you came. He knew what to do, and he was too good at it, pinching and plucking your clit until your hips rolled to a stop as your pussy squeezed him gently.

When you opened your eyes, you were still dizzy as Bradley held you. Your pussy was slick with his cum, both of you spent as his hand settled on the side of your belly.

"We'll circle back to that vasectomy conversation later," he whispered as you laughed softly with his cock still inside you. "Right now, I don't want you to move an inch."

"That's convenient," you mumbled, "because I think my bones are jello." You snuggled in closer, eyelids heavy, but Bradley's body jerked beneath you.

"Holy shit," he gasped, sitting more upright as you grabbed his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I can feel her," he whispered, his hand trailing along your belly, pressing firmly. "I can feel our daughter moving."

You were so used to her almost-constant squirming, it took you a beat to realize that she was turning somersaults below your ribcage, but she was moving a lot. Bradley's gaze met yours, and a beaming smile filled his face as he adjusted his hand an inch higher.

"She's moving a lot, Roo. I think she likes your voice."

Tears glittered in your husband's eyes, and you kissed his cheeks. It felt so good to be back on solid ground in your relationship. Perhaps you never had anything to worry about, but moments like this one were priceless to you.

"I love you so much," Bradley promised, his lips finding yours, kissing you through his words. "I love my girls. This is the best fucking day."

When Rose started crying to eat again, you finally crawled from your husband's lap. But he followed you into the nursery, claiming, "I want to be close to the three of you." He barely left your side for the rest of the night.

-----------------------------

Bradley was still stressed out about Indigo. He didn't really think about her when he was at home, but when he got to work and saw her lurking about, his anxiety seemed to spike. Today, she was outside his classroom when the others filed in for his lecture. He wondered how much longer the little scheme you and Cat worked up could possibly keep her on the ground. He still didn't have all the details, not that he wanted them, but he knew better. She would be back in the air by the end of the year. And he hadn't heard a word about his complaints against her.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," Indigo sang, setting Bradley's teeth on edge. He had to take deep breaths and remind himself that he couldn't rage at her. When he thought about how he spent last night feeling the baby kicking, he calmed down.

"Lieutenant Jeffries. I trust you haven't forgotten you're not permitted in my classroom?"

Her smirk was obnoxious. "Of course not, Sir. I was just simply stopping by to inform you that your superior is back." Her smirk turned into a bright, joyful smile. "And I'm going to stop by his office."

Maverick was back from Lemoore. Mav was back, and somehow Indigo knew about it before he did. While that rubbed him the wrong way, Bradley thought perhaps things could move along faster now. Maybe there was a way out of this whole mess. He wanted his life to go back to normal again. He needed it.

"Enjoy your morning, Lieutenant Jeffries. Don't forget to stay out of the aviators' lounge."

Bradley closed the door softly instead of slamming it, and then he got his notes out. The other students were eager to hear what he had planned. Even Spice seemed to have distanced herself from Indigo which was interesting; perhaps she valued her career more than a toxic friend. Bradley wrote some notes on the board and got to work. 

What was supposed to be a two hour long discussion with the group was cut short halfway through. When he walked around the classroom, pausing to answer a question, Bradley's gaze was drawn toward the window. He saw you outside in the sunlight near the hangar. It was impossible to miss you in your maternity uniform, not that he would ever tell you that, but even the curve of your cheek was unmistakable to him.

God, you were fucking perfect. His heart skipped around in his chest as he watched you turn back toward your office, and he crept closer to the window for a better look. He couldn't wait until lunchtime so he could sit with you.

Then his back went ramrod straight, and Bradley froze. Indigo walked past you, checking your shoulder with hers. "What the fuck?" Bradley snarled under his breath. Indigo kept walking like she hadn't just intentionally run into you. You. A pregnant woman. Bradley's pregnant wife. "You're all dismissed," he barked, heading for the classroom door as quickly as he could walk. Once he was in the hallway, he was running for the exit in the atrium.

The sunlight was blinding, but he saw you immediately. When he called your name, you turned to him and smiled. Indigo was nowhere in sight now as he ran to get to you. 

"Are you okay?" he demanded, touching your shoulder before letting his hand settle on your belly.

"Yeah, I just had to take something to Cat. Why are you out of breath?" you asked, kissing his cheek softly before he wrapped you up in a hug. "What's going on, Bradley?"

He kissed along your forehead and said, "I saw Indigo plow into you through the window. She did it intentionally."

"Oh. Yeah. She does that all the time. I wish she'd just hit me in the face already, because I'm not about to retaliate."

Bradley held you at arm's length, eyes wide. "Don't say that! I don't want her laying a finger on you!"

You took a deep breath and sighed. "You know none of this would be a problem if you weren't so sexy, right?" Bradley's cheeks felt warm as you tucked yourself against him again. "I need to get back to my lab, but I'll see you at lunch. We can start discussing baby names."

As you strolled away, Bradley once again felt terrible that you were in this mess with him.

----------------------------

You didn't want Bradley worrying any more than he always was, but Indigo did hit your shoulder pretty hard this time. You were still rubbing it when you walked into your building and headed for the elevators. 

It felt like you were trapped in some realm filled with optical illusions; somehow Indigo was standing in front of the elevator buttons. How she got inside so quickly was beyond you.

"Excuse me," you told her, trying to reach for the up arrow with your chin held high, but she didn't move. "You're in my way."

"How does it feel knowing your husband fucked me in his office?" she whispered. Your hand stilled in the air as you met her horrible, blue eyes. "How does it feel knowing I can have him whenever I want? Every Monday after his office hours. This past Monday was something else. Would you like some details?"

It made you physically sick that she thought she had some sort of grasp on you and Bradley. It would be nice to hit her in the face instead of the other way around. But you knew she was lying. She was grasping at straws. Bradley had skipped his office hours on Monday in favor of joining you for your appointment with Dr. Morris just like he always did. The woman in front of you was beyond ridiculous.

"Do you want to know the details?" she demanded. "Answer me."

"I don't answer to you!" Your voice had her taking a step back until she hit the wall between the elevator doors. "I outrank you in every way."

"You can't do this to me," she hissed. "You think you're an admiral on a power trip or something, but you can't ground me indefinitely, Lieutenant Commander."

Just as your lips parted, ready to put her in her place, you heard boots squeak in the polished floor to your left. You glanced that way to see the confident stride of Bradley's godfather as Maverick yanked his aviators off. His gaze was like steel as he stopped at your side.

"Maybe she doesn't quite have the power to ground you indefinitely, but I certainly do, Lieutenant Jeffries."

"Sir," she complained with a pout, "you don't understand what she's trying to do to me. She grounded me and my Super Hornet, Captain Mitchell. She's trying to ruin my career for no good reason. Her commanding officer should be informed that she's manipulating things the way she wants them when I've done nothing wrong."

You were seeing red. She was the one who started this whole thing, not you. And she was the one who kept trying to goad you on because she didn't get what she wanted. And now she was trying to make you look bad in front of Mav. You couldn't tell if you were about to laugh or cry.

"Enough," Mav barked. "I don't want to hear another word. One conversation with her commanding officer, and you'll be eating your words, Lieutenant Jeffries. And do you honestly think anything happens to one of the Super Hornets in the Pacific fleet without me knowing about it?"

Instead of a verbal response, Indigo blushed bright pink and shook her head slowly.

Maverick cleared his throat and lowered his volume a bit. "Someone in your position should be keeping a low profile, but you can't seem to help yourself."

"Someone in my position?" she asked, her gaze flickering your way briefly.

Shaking his head, Maverick said, "I've never seen a harassment case against a subordinate open and close so quickly."

"What?" Indigo squeaked, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

"It seems you have a history of behaving poorly around your male superiors," Maverick added. "I was going to let you save face and have this conversation in my office this afternoon, but it's a little too late for that. Maybe things worked in your favor in the past. You seem the type who got used to getting their own way. But that kind of behavior doesn't belong at Top Gun. And you were barking up the wrong tree with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw from the beginning. Not only is he happily married, his wife has more friends and allies on base than you'll ever know about. Pack your locker and meet me in my office. You're going back to Texas today."

"Texas!" Indigo wailed. "I'm too good for that program."

Maverick reached around her for the elevator button. "I wouldn't worry about that. You're about to learn that the Navy is too good for you. Now get out of my sight."

It felt like everything shifted as you watched Indigo storm away. Her shoulders slumped, and she seemed to fold in on herself. It was a far cry from her usual behavior as Maverick guided you into the elevator with him when the doors opened.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tipping your chin up so you met his eyes. "I really didn't mean for you to hear all of that."

"I'm okay," you whispered before wrapping your arms around him as tears leaked from your eyes. "Thanks for looking out for Bradley and me."

He kissed your forehead as you cried. "You're family. I'll always do what I can." When the doors slid open, you realized you were on your floor. Maverick wrapped his arms around your shoulders, guiding you along to your office. Your fingers were shaking as you unlocked the door. "I'll text Bradley and see if he can stop by," he said, following you inside where you sank into your desk chair with your hands on your belly.

"Is she out?" you whispered, completely exhausted as you took deep breaths. "Is Indigo out of the Navy?"

Maverick sighed and tucked his phone away again. "That's up to the admirals in Texas, but if I had to wager a guess... probably."

It seemed wild to you that she would risk it all for something as trivial as a hookup, but then again, Bradley always was irresistible to you. At one point, you were willing to risk everything you'd worked toward since your years at the Naval Academy to be with him. You'd even announced to the entire control room on an aircraft carrier that he was the man for you. But he was yours. He was Rose's. He was the baby's. Indigo wasn't going to get away with even testing the waters.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sitting there reflecting on things with Mav perched on the edge of your desk, but it must have been several minutes. When you heard heavy footfalls in the hallway, you looked at your open doorway as your husband came rushing inside.

"Are you okay?" he asked, panting and sweaty. He barely looked at Maverick before dropping to his knees next to your chair. "Did she hurt you?"

"Jeez, Mav," you murmured as the other man headed for the door. "What did you tell him?" you asked, referring to the text he'd sent to Bradley. 

"I told him you needed him," Maverick replied with a chuckle before closing the door on his way out.

"I swear to God," Bradley growled, focused on your face. "If she hurt you-"

"She didn't," you promised, cupping his cheek. "I promise we're just fine."

He was still everything you wanted. Almost two years married, and Bradley was worth every bit of this trouble. His lips found your belly through your ugly tent, kissing along until his cheek came to rest there. "That's good," he rasped as your fingers combed through his hair. "Hopefully they'll take my complaints against her seriously. I can barely stand coming to work knowing she's giving you a hard time."

"She's out, Bradley." He flashed his brown eyes up to your face. "Maverick is sending her back to Texas where they'll decide what happens to her."

He gave you a satisfied groan as he nuzzled your belly, kissing you a million times. Then his head came to rest in your lap, and you could feel the tension slowly release from his body for the first time in months as you held onto him.

"Just let me stay here with you for a while. Okay, Baby Girl?"

--------------------------

Have fun in Texas, Indigo! Nobody is going to miss you. I feel like BG should get to keep her Super Hornet out of principle. BUT, the most important part of the chapter is the fact that Bradley got to feel the baby! ALSO, next chapter may be the last one in this series.

PART 40

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[tinum]

Longing from the Office - Harumasa x Reader

Summary: Section 6 play wingman for a struggling harumasa Warnings: So much sighing and sitting in chairs, probable abuse of as, maybe ooc, errors Word Count: 2.1k Notes: I'm trying to improve my writing guys so sorry if its bad but also not sorry. Drop a request or don't.. its fine...

Harumasa's longing for you manifested in many ways. Some of which were more embarrassing than he liked to admit. You hardly seemed to notice though, even if he was practically attached to your hip like a puppy.

"I'm going on my lunch now, Tsukishiro." You call out, pushing your chair out and putting on the coat hanging off the back. Despite not even scratching the surface of your work, your eyes are already stained, and you feel the throb of a headache coming on. A break is definitely in order.

"Alright—" She was swiftly cut off by a voice chiming in.

"Yeah, we'll be going on break now, Tsukishiro!" Her eyebrows raise at the man, who was, just moments ago, sleeping.

"Oh? I hope you realize your nap has been cutting into your break time." Her face was serious, but on the inside, she almost wanted to laugh at how obvious he was being. It's something she noticed for a while now, how he glances at you from time to time when you are doing paperwork, completely unaware. The way he perks up when he hears your name in conversation.

"I was just resting my eyes." 

"So you admit you were taking a break?" 

He scratches the back of his neck. "Aha… no?"

She sighs, pinching the space between her brows, "If you're going to take a break now, all of your paperwork better be turned in by the end of the day."

"Whoa, really? Thanks, Tsukishiro! You won't regret this!"

She totally would, but she would regret it more if she didn't allow him to go. Watching him make a fool of himself while you were blind was torture. She'd rather lose a few hours of sleep completing his paperwork than watch another moment.

"Ah, Asaba, we're going on break at the same time? What a funny coincidence."

She physically facepalms, causing both your heads to snap her way. "Ahem… my apologies, there was a… bug. Don't mind me."

"Yeah, pretty crazy. I mean, what are the chances, right?" 

"It's almost like it was fate…" His heart practically skips a beat when you look at him and let out a giggle. "Well, just a silly thought! I'll be going now. Have fun on your break!"

He could only get out the start of his sentence before you promptly turned away, rushing towards the exit. Once you are gone, he lets out the loudest whine of his life. His upbeat posture deflates as he stares at the exit, jaw open. He only closes it when he hears the click of heels walking towards him.

"That was rather painful to watch." Yanagi places an awkward hand on his shoulder as some sort of means to comfort him.

"If you cringed by just watching it, imagine how I feel. I mean, seriously! How much more obvious do I have to get?"

Normally, Yanagi would not concern herself with her colleagues' personal lives, but the sight of his obvious pining and your obliviousness was giving her early wrinkles. "I find myself wondering the same thing." 

Harumasa groans, running his hand down his face in frustration. He turns to Yanagi, places both of his hands on her shoulders, and shakes her lightly. "You see it too? C'mon, you gotta help me!"

She squints her eyes, looking at him, and Harumasa shakes her more, letting out a crybaby 'Pleaseee.' She had already planned on helping him. Otherwise, she would not have walked up to him, but she can't lie; it was sort of fun seeing him fumble so much. Perhaps you were rubbing off on her.

"First of all, stop shaking me." He drops his hand faster than she's ever seen him move when overtime is on the line. "I'll help you—"

"Thank you, Tsukishiro! Seriously, you're the-"

"I wasn't finished," she clears her throat. "I'll help you, but you have to promise me a full week of your undivided attention. In other words, no slacking and no naps."

He deflates, letting out another loud groan. "I should have known it wouldn't be that easy…" His chair rolls backward as he slumps down, throwing his arm over his eyes. "It's hopeless… I'm going to die all alone."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, you're lucky I'm feeling generous I'll cut it to three workdays."

He immediately brightens up, his posture straight, and he bats his eyelashes at Yanagi. "Really? You'd do that for little old me?"

"No. I'm doing it for Soukaku. She also wonders when you would finally confess."

"Oh… well, what's the plan?"

She immediately zeroes in. Harumasa follows suit, with a serious look on their face. Yanagi slams a piece of paper on his desk.

"Here's what I was thinking."

-----

When you return from lunch, you are greeted with an unusually focused Harumasa and no Yanagi in sight. You sigh as you walk towards your desk; the piles of papers seem never-ending. Unfortunately, the only way out is through.

A few minutes into the first page, you hear Harumasa let out a loud sigh. "This is sooo hard." He whines. You look up at him to see him already staring at you. "You gotta help me with this! I just can't seem to remember!"

"What do you need help with?"

"I cannot, for the life of me, remember what… time! Our last hollow investigation began.."

"It began at-"

"No! I mean, can you write it for me?" he coughs out. "I suddenly feel really sick." 

"I suppose if you are not feeling well… bring it here."

He scoots out of his chair, walking slowly with an exaggerated stagger. "Ah, I feel really dizzy. Can I rest on your shoulder?" He doesn't wait for an answer, rolling the chair from the empty desk next to you.

Your eyes widen. "Dizzy? Should I call in the doctor?" He places his hand on top of yours, stopping you from picking up your phone.

"No, no, I'll be fine." His head hesitantly creeps down, teetering on whether he should commit or not. Ultimately, he does. "I just need a moment."

"Oh…" A quick blush rose to your face as you grabbed the paper, which was… blank.

"Asaba, you—" 

You turn to look at him, expecting to be met with the view of his hair. Instead, you are greeted by his face, which is inches apart from yours.

"Yes?"

"You must be super sick! You gave me the wrong paper!" You fuss, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I'll inform Tsukishiro!"

"No, there's no need," he sighed. "I'm feeling better now." He gets up, walking back to his desk, head hanging low.

"Asaba…" you call out, tone a bit more serious. He turns around to face you, a hopeful look in his eyes. "You forgot your paper." 

"Right."

-----

"That didn't work?" Yanagi asked, her eyes wide.

"No! They just wanted to call you!"

"Hm… Well, they seemed worried; that's a start."

"I guess.." He slumps.

"Perhaps you should take a more direct approach. How about asking them on a date?"

"I practically did yesterday! Sharing a break with someone is a sacred thing, y'know!"

Suddenly, a cheerful voice chimes in, a bit muffled from a full mouth. "Why don't you give them candy!"

He looked at the Soukaku and then at Yanagi, who was deep in thought, muttering under her breath.  "Yes, that could work." Yanagi finally says, pushing up her glasses. "Why don't you give them a gift?"

"That's perfect! You guys are so smart; what would I do without you?" 

-----

The following day, you are greeted with a bundle of violets on your desk. It was certainly a strange gift. There was no note, just the flowers wrapped in heart-shaped plastic. You look around the room, noticing it was empty.

Maybe a fan left these? It wouldn't be surprising, considering they sometimes stand outside the building waiting to catch a glimpse of Section 6, but if it was from a fan, how could you know if it was for you? They definitely would not know which desk belongs to whom unless they were in the building. 

You shiver, throwing the flowers in a nearby bin. Then you grab your phone and call Yanagi. Not today, stalker.

What you didn't know is that Harumasa was watching in the nearby printer room. A card in his hands.

-----

"And then they threw them away! Right in front of me!"

"Hm, that is troubling…"

"I'm beginning to think they just don't like me."

"Cheer up, Harumasa!" Soukaku smiles, hugging him. Yanagi stood in front of the desk, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know what to do anymore." He exhales, standing up.

"Have you tried telling them directly?" Everyone snaps their heads to the source of the voice and is met with a pair of dark ears.

Harumasa's head drops back down, defeated. Walking to the door in an exaggerated slowness.. "Nah, I think this is it. I can take a hint."

-----

"Asaba likes you." You sputter on the water you had been drinking, causing your shirt to get wet.

"Miyabi!" You nervously laugh, drying your shirt with napkins from a nearby table. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Asaba likes you."

"Oh! Well, I like him too." Walking back towards your desk, you smile. . "Speaking of which, where is he? I haven't seen him or the others at all today." 

"No. Asaba likes you as more than a friend." She stops right in front of your chair, and you have to look up at her for the first time.

"Me too! He's pretty much my best friend!" Turning away from her, you gather a few papers left on your desk. "Miyabi, I have to go run these to another department. If the others come back, let them know that's why."

Miyabi watches as you walk by, letting out a sigh of her own. She know knows why Yanagi and Harumasa had been sighing at you these past three days. This was more difficult than she expected. Usually, a simple approach does the trick; less is more, after all.

"Well, that's it. I'm officially done." The other three members walk out from around the corner, a crushing look on their faces. He falls back on his chair and Miyabi is surprised it hasn't collapsed by how many times he has done that. "I'm sorry, Tsukishiro, but I'm gonna have to break our deal to sleep my sorrows away."

Soukaku speaks in a tearful tone. "Harumasa…" 

"It's okay, Soukaku.. Sometimes things just don't work out how we want them to."

She grips his hand and jumps up with determination. "No! You can't—" She pauses, tears welling in her eyes.

"Miyabi, have you seen the other pa-" You stopped in your tracks. Everyone was surrounding Harumasa's desk, sullen looks on their faces. 

"You can't give up your crush on—" She manages to get your name out before a hand on her mouth silences her.

All four of the members stare at you with shocked expressions. No one dares to speak up or move, too worried they might scare you off.

You stumble over your own tongue, a deep blush rising to your face. "Asaba has a crush on me?" and before Harumasa has the chance to ruin things for himself, the three other members speak up.

"Yes!" Their tone was almost annoyed. After all these attempts this is what it took? They aren't one to smoke but they'd be lying if they said they didn't need a cigarette right about now.

"Harumasa, is this true?"

He lets out a deep breath, "It is." Alright, here it comes; he's going to be rejected and—

"I like you too!" 

"WHAT?" You had to be kidding him. This whole time, he was trying to get your attention with gifts and outrageous gestures, and all it took was for you to overhear a conversation? He's pretty sure you just triggered a heart attack. Maybe he should retire, yeah.. that's what he'll do

"I like you too, Harumasa. I have for a while now."

"No way! You turned down all my advances!"

"You didn't make any advances?"

"Yes, I did!"

"No?"

"Yes? Remember that time I asked to go on break after you did?"

"I thought that was just a coincidence."

"What about the flowers?"

"You didn't leave me any flowers."

"I left violets on your desk, and you just threw them away!"

"I thought they were from one of those creepy fans."

"Miyabi literally told you how I felt!"

"How was I supposed to know she meant it romantically?"

Harumasa resisted the urge to tackle you. You were seriously spiking his blood pressure with your absurd reasoning. How could someone be so incredibly smart and dumb at the same time? He's not sure the gods could even answer that.

"You're so lucky you're you. I'd be running for the hills if it was anyone else."

"Does that mean you guys are dating now?" Soukaku asks, not a single thought behind her eyes.

You look at Harumasa, and for the first time, he knows what he must do. "Let's try this again. I have liked you forever, and now I know you do, so… can we date? Pretty please?" He asks that question with such enthusiasm that you're sure if he had a tail it would be wagging

"Of course, silly! All you had to do was ask!" Something clicks in Harumasa once he hears you say that.

Oh. You sly dog. You knew this whole time, didn't you?

[taffywabbit]

so like. at what point are we going to stop listening to game companies saying "the game was poorly received and didn't meet our sales targets, and that's why we're removing it from storefronts and taking down all the servers mere months or even weeks after release" for titles that had a long expensive development, were barely marketed, and nobody knew they'd even released until after they heard they were getting shut down and couldn't be played/purchased anymore?

I feel like the prevailing takeaway for anyone who doesn't just conclude "yeah, game was pretty mid, makes sense to me" has usually been "this company just has unreasonably impossible sales expectations and treats every project like a failure if it doesn't print a trillion dollars". but these ARE allegedly experienced business execs who aren't complete idiots, and after this most recent debacle with Concord I'm starting to wonder if a bunch of these "games getting wiped out of existence when they underperform instead of just being allowed to persist as they are and maybe improve with time" cases in recent years might be more of a Warner-Discovery type situation, like nuking an entire animated series or film that was worked on for years and preventing it from being sold because it has to be officially unprofitable for the company to use it as a tax write-off. I look at a game that was worked on for 8 years and only made available for 2 weeks, and it's hard not to see the parallels.

great work, AAA games industry, really normal and sustainable stuff you're doing over there as usual

[aninipanin1]

You're reqs are prob closed when I'm writing this but PLS

I'm devastated with the leaks I NEED TO COPE

Miss manager and Nagi fluff pls I'm on my hands and knees Wusieuueisuer

BRING LIGHT TO OUR DARKNESS WRITER-SAMA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

NAP TIME

Notes: ofcccc desperate times calls for desperate measures, and this is that desperate measure lmaooo sorry if it's short. Anyways, it's a small gift for my Nagi fans out there in these trying times

"Nagi-san, do you need anything? Um, you look like you're about to pass out."

"Mm."

That's all the lazy genius responded as he laid on the grassy field. After finishing Chris' brutal training, he just slumped there, tired to the bone.

You blinked before finding yourself sitting beside him before patting a towel to his forehead, seeing as he was sweating very much.

"I think you should change clothes, Nagi-san. You may get sick if your sweat dries up on your back." You pulled his white hair back to wipe his face, as the boy just let out a tired and satisfied sound.

He was clearly enjoying the attention and affection from you. Your warm hand supported his back while the other held a towel to wipe his face, made him feel a little soft inside.

You were always like this, kind, caring, and patient, especially with his lazy tendencies. Always trying your best to help him improve and get over his metaphorical bump in the road.

He then flopped his body against yours, not finding the strength to even stand up. A little flustered, you pat his hair to try and get him to move.

"Nagi-san..."

"Okay...let me rest for a bit please..."

He started to slowly feel sleepy, laying his head on your shoulder in a half hug of sort as you just sat still on the grass. He was heavy and so much larger than you (you're always reminded when you see him), so it was a struggle to maintain his body weight.

"Nagi-san...I think you should sleep in the rooms instead."

After a few push to move, he finally looked at you with sleepy eyes before nodding and standing up to head to the showers.

"Can you wait for me after I finish showering...?"

"Eh? Why? I'm not sure-"

"Please?"

He begged you with sleepy puppy eyes, head still on your shoulder and looking up at you. Seeing as you only had a few miscellaneous chores aswell this was not the first time he asked this nor is he the first one to ask you of this, you accepted.

"The water was too warm..."

Nagi sighed as he put on the Blue Lock sweater and pants, wiping his hair as he could feel the strain of training already hitting him.

He looked around on the halls like a lost chick, wondering where you were. He did not see you anywhere around.

Pouting, he wondered around the English Stratum, his disappointment obvious on his face while trying to find you. Poking his head through the doors of different rooms in hopes to see your familiar figure.

Finally, when he reached the cafeteria, he found you. But you were not alone. You were chatting away with Chigiri as the redhead ate.

"Y/n-chan..."

He muttered behind you, making you stop and turn to face him.

"Oh, hi Nagi-san. Sorry if I left the door, I wanted to give you privacy and just decided to wait for you here and I met up with Chigiri-san!"

Chigiri looked up at him curiously.

"You aren't eating?"

"Wanna sleep..."

Nagi then looked at you, eyes blinking as if he was thinking or deciding something before doing something. Finally, his eyes revealed that he concluded to an answer.

At first, you were confused until you felt yourself being lifted up from the ground. A squeal left your mouth as Nagi carried you like you weighed nothing before walking off.

Chigiri, who watched this, stood up from her seat and shouted Nagi's name

"Oi, Nagi! What are you doing?!"

"We're...gonna nap."

He did not seem to care and brought you to the shared room of him, Chigiri, and Reo before plopping you on the mattress and laid beside you.

He always invited you to nap with him, but he never literally carried you to be beside him. His head was resting on your back, his arms wrapped around your middle as you hear his slow and tired breathing.

"Good night...Y/n-chan..."

"Good night, Nagi-san." A chuckle escaped your mouth when you feel his breath become even softer and slower, indicating he has already fallen asleep.

'I guess napping myself is not that bad. I am a little tired...'

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 25/02✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@esmailsadeh ha chiesto: Kyri I have a question...please don't end your amazing masterpiece (LMK AU) there are literally a ton of people that love it , so why must you end it? please reconsider for your fans >.<

The question is... why must I end it? Well cause it's a story and I don't like unfinished fics ahah.

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Sorry, random dumb thought Think that Wukong or MK would go "kachow" when they're tryna look attractive for their respective partners? 😭 Imagining Macaque or Redson being really into admiring their partners just for their idiot to go "aha, ✨ Kachow ✨ " when showing off intentionally LMAO

haha well they could!

@meisawkwardashecc ha chiesto: Are shadowpeach switches?

Macaque is mostly the top

@anidiotkid ha chiesto: So, does Wukong or MK ever get cramps? And if so, how do they deal with it? (...totally not projecting here 😭)

yes they do! Wukong is a drama queen. MK will neglect his meds until he faints. (and then proceed to be scolded by Mei)

@captain-space-kin ha chiesto: Okay so, I happened upon the Shadowpeach bio parents au update today and then binge read the whole thing instead of doing college work. And I just wanted to say watching your art grow and change is really encouraging to me as an artist. I often times get stuck thinking my art isn’t improving “fast enough”, but seeing the progress you’ve made over the course of comic is really cool! And it also kinda making me want to try out making comics finally. Anyway! Love your art, and I’m very excited to see how the rest of goes!

Thank you!!

@itzlilith32 ha chiesto: Hello kyri, I just came here to say that I really love your Au. Lmk was already consuming my life since I discovered it like a year and a few months ago. And now I also have your Au consuming my everyday, but I wouldn't have it any other way. :3 I've discovered your au like between part 2 and 3 I think, so a while ago. And it's been the most fun rollercoaster of emotions I've been on. I like everything about it, from your art to the storytelling, I honestly can't put into words how much I love it ^^ Since we're in part 9, and the final from what you said, I wanted to say this. These past months have been wonderful, from discovering this au and seeing how it evolved, to now, where we're near the end. Although, correct me if I'm wrong, but I have a tiny bitty feeling that this is just the end of a big chapter. And I can't wait to see what happens next. :D 🫶

Awww thank youuu!!

@virtualjellyfishcolor ha chiesto: uh kyri…. did macaque hear all that…?like uh mk and redson..

Luckily his powers were still too weak. He most likely WILL hear what might happen in the future

@busterwarrior2099 ha chiesto: So what's going to happen to Li Jing and heaven now? Because I bet mk and the others are not going trust them again after the stunt they try to pull by kidnapping the guy who defeated the bull demon king,the lady bone demon,azure lion and prevented the world to end all because they learn about his heritage so yeah not a good impression at all

I have... plans.

@kid-of-chaos ha chiesto: Kyri will we get to see the mini monkeys at the Coronation or just around in general again I miss my gremlin friens :d

aww we can bring some of those little guys yes

@blairjojo ha chiesto: yo Kyri are u gunna make this into a full comic and publish it edventioaly (I need to buy it) @amyrosewithoutshadow ha chiesto: Hello! Brazilian fan here! How are you? First of all, love your art. Really, it makes me fell so safe and happy when I see it. Second, do you plan on doing a book or a web comic book with all the parts together when you end the Bio Dads au? I Would die for having the comic in hands and read it when I want and can. Thank you 💕

maybe, not now though (I don't have the time). I need mods and people who help me with the logistic first and a lot of planning

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: Your art is so genuinely great that I accidentally got invested in these fictional characters that I don't know just so I could see more of it. So like yeah, good job. I stumbled into it a few days ago and have re-read it like at least 3 times now and every time I get to the giant-kaiju Shrek 2-reference song-sequence I just feel an emotion that is very intense but that I have no idea how to quantify. I think the emotion is positive but there's also such a deep incredulity to it. It is glorious and unhinged and I am absolutely here for it. Loving whatever the hell this whole AU is, you have made me care very intensely about characters from a show I did not know nearly anything about. I've pieced together enough lore to understand enough of what is happening but you have made me want to actually watch the show.

awww tysm!!!

@gtuguzbuzbu ha chiesto: Will Wukong ever know what happened down there? Like he sorta knows that Mama got himself hurt but he doesn't know what exactly happened.

yeah Macaque eventually told him everything and he was condemned to 2 days in the hug-prison

@lordmageofart ha chiesto: Wait.. this instantly hit me but I have to ask! Is Macaque gonna Courtnap Wukong again? Will Wukong try yet fail to courtnap just to show Macaque he loves him? Or is it just going to be like a normal conversation like their normal people? (Probably won't be the last one but I still have to ask)

nah this time they just want to go straight to the point

@metalheaded-freak ha chiesto: Kyri, I just wanted to say… thank you, for creating the Bio Parents Au, it’s been such an emotional journey and honestly? If it wasn’t for you then I wouldn’t have gotten into the fandom the way I did. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you were the gateway for me to fully embrace this fandom and not be afraid to show what I do, so once again thank you!

Thank youu!!!

@classystudentmugdonut-blog ha chiesto: Hello I just want say I love your work I keep rereading it from the beginning even though I should be resting I got sick but anyways I want to who is YOUR MOST favorite in this lmk

MK. he is baby

@cranberrychaos ha chiesto: Considering you now got red bubble merch of the shadowpeach au... would you ever consider us paying to you to color in our favorite scenes from the comic? I got a couple I'd like to see colored and have in my house or wallpaper 😭

I don't take commissions

@redsontheredbull ha chiesto: Do you have a lady bone demon design?

mmm not really.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Do you think Red (or DBK) would get offended if people used cow/bull terms? Like bullshit? Or if they are driving and pass by a cow farm? Stuff like this pops into my head a lot and I wanted to know what you would think because all I can imagine is Red Son come face to face with a cow and it being so awkward 😭😭 Bye <3

mmm i think so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I honestly think it would be funny to see how confused people would be if they just started being nice to each other, with no context as to how or why (Not like all their problems are fixed nice but just treating each other a bit better after their talk)

LOL i think everyone is either confused or glad they finally resolved their sexual tension

@roseltelle ha chiesto: Since Wukong is trans can he get pregnant too?!? Is this something he and Macaque have to worry about?!?

yes he can get pregnant.

@vivian-devoid ha chiesto: "kilani-123 ha chiesto:Does Mk know that Wukong and Macaque are still engaged?👀" WAIT WHAT?! I nearly choked on my water(stay hydrated) when the hell did this happen!?

the day before the brotherhood tried to take over heaven

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for everything?! Just wanted to ask if you have other comics you plan on making once lmk is over aside from sky❤️

first i finish the sky comic, then I'll see

@violetcookie2007 ha chiesto: Do you personally have anymore nicknames for Shadow peach or Spicy noodles? I like all the ones you have in the comic and think they are all very cute and was wondering if you have any more. Also I love you art!

mmm not really. im open for suggestions

@gaybirdlovescrackers ha chiesto: How does it feel to singlehandedly keep a fandom afloat. To keep it trending by pure gay.

it feels illegal to hold this power

@steadylandface ha chiesto: Are we gonna get a Spicynoodles child in the future 👀

Yes, go watch Ninjago Pilot episode 1

@lonelydarkrai ha chiesto: Is there anyone dubbing your comics?

lots of folks are dubbing my comic.

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: I suppose now is as good of a time as any to wonder if this means Red Son has accidentally left his jacket with MK. Just like, as a concept.

oooohh yes

@nocturnaldaydreamer ha chiesto: Oh no, realized this a little while ago... But MK is not only the son of the Monkey King, but is gonna be crowned a Celestial Prince. Red Son and MK better be careful, there might be some crazies out there trying to Courtnap him...

Red son will be hissing like a cat to anyone who tries to come closer

@leve4ever ha chiesto: If season 6 comes out will you make more shadowpeach bio parents au?

yeah why not.

@nomadiclegends ha chiesto: 四耳孫小天 ...so is it pronounced "Sì'ěr Sun Xiǎotiān" ??? my mandarin's pretty weak sauce and I'm curious 😶

yes

@this-one-gay-person ha chiesto: For the LMK bio parents au is there like a specific post schedules?

every other day at 1Pm ET

@anxiety-beans ha chiesto: I need you to know that this comic is what converted me into a Shadowpeach shipper. It altered my brain chemistry, I swear.

let's goooooooo

@bonbonfoxyton ha chiesto: A little late asking this buut I'm curious, how did courtnaping go between macaque and Wukong exactly? Is it okay if you'd explain it, it's a 100% okay if you don't want to since I read your boundaries thing and everything to make sure your good with this question

I'll let the fans picture how it happened

@cutvdo ha chiesto: Have you thought of putting your fan comics ISAT: Sky CotL AU and LMK: ShadowPeach Bio Parents AU, on a different website? like tapas

you can't publish fan-comics on Tapas

@the-immortal-restless ha chiesto: Do you think that Macaque or Wukong’s hair ever falls forward? Like MKs does on purpose because style but like… Wukong and Macaque both have the longer fur so does it stay out of their face or does it fall forwards something in your au/opinion? (Petition for Wukong and Macaque to be Mukong… because if sun Wukong is swk then Mukong is MK!)

I think it could, maybe they use gel?

@wolfsbanex-x ha chiesto: KYRIII!!! Hello, I love your art so much. I just want to say that stream where you talked about motivation was very inspiring! I LOVE your comic so much, it’s been a shoulder for me whenever I have had a rough day. I hope you continue to gift us with even more amazing art (sorry if I’m rambling here). YOU CAN DO THIS!!! WHOOO!!!!☺️🥳

Thank you!!

@eneska31 ha chiesto: so we know when MK got his court napping thoughts, when did Redson get his? and can we see what happens in his POV in like a small comic at some point? p.s I absolutely love your art and this comic has brought me so much joy ☺️💛🐵

After MK called him beautiful

@factmeegg ha chiesto: Okay question, When first made this fan comic or whatever. What were your thoughts on this when you first started up to now?

that it would have been a really short and silly thing

@mischiefmelody ha chiesto: Question! Will MK be in his monkey or human form for his coronation? Either way he'll be gorgeous but I wanna knowwwww

He'll be in monkey form

cherrummi ha chiesto: After reading the latest update, I made an animation, but apparently asks don’t support video sooo here’s some key frames instead (I’m going to post my full animation in my blog, so if you’re interested you could check it out): Also: Will something like this happen in the story? 👆 How traditional is DBK and PIF would you say, comparing them to traditional human families? Could you give more insight on demon etiquette or courtnapping? Thank you so much for making art! It’s incredible! ❤️

uhh yeah in a way

they are very traditional, but they know when to put some traditions aside in sake of Red Son happiness

Courtnapping rooms are a must, old schools courtnapping usually last around a year but now days it's at best 2 weeks. The courtnapped person must consent and if not they can leave. The courtnapper must provide everything for their partner, including their hobbies, favourite food, family visits, etc… (it's basically a pre-dating very complex honeymoon

@huntershyperfixation ha chiesto: Your art is beautiful and the lmk fandom adores you ☆

ADFZBFD AGAER THANK YOU

@ithinkimprobablyweird ha chiesto: What is mk in the au? Like gay bi pan or something else?

Demisexual, trans masc, bi.

@cryptoknightpatch ha chiesto: Hi lol I’m curious did you come up with the court-napping idea by yourself or was it actually anything referencing Jttw?

it's a fan headcanon of the LMK fandom

@axtonorian ha chiesto: First up, I LOVEE YOUR ART Its really fun to look at and aesthetically pleasing in my opinion. Second I know Wukong had/has nightmares about Mk but what about Mac? And even if it all worked out in the end would his nightmares about those two get worse after everything that just happened?

he sometimes dreams of hurting him. a lot of cuddles ensue everytime he wakes up with wukong close by

@jinxdrawsstuff ha chiesto: Hi Kyri! Just wanted to pop in real quick and say thank you for your Shadowpeach AU <3 it’s getting me through my first college year, every update makes my day a lot better!

you're welcome!

[rwshfordgirl]

KENAN YILDIZ IS YOUR FIANCÉ?

where her students discover that kenan is her fiancé

pairing: kenan yildiz x teacher reader!

a/n: i want to thank 🪐 anon, you helped me improve this story haha but a few years ago i wrote a story similar to this one with ben chilwell, but those were pandemic times :/ unfortunately i no longer have the original post, but rewriting it was really cool.

requests are open | check here my masterlist

The mayor decided to hold classes remotely for a day due to an event that would leave the streets of Turin busy. You don't mind teaching and being at home, and the children wouldn't mind changing for one day either, in fact they are curious. When they received the news that they would have online classes, they shared loud and clear that they wanted to see what your house was like.

"I'll only show you my house if you show yours."

You made your 9 year old students laugh.

The office on the third floor of your house was made for events like this. In fact, you teach Italian classes remotely to people from all over the world. However, a leak must leave the space closed. And today, you will have to teach on the kitchen counter.

"Kenan, love. It'll take me an hour in the kitchen, if you need anything, text me."

Your fiancé appeared in the room, he seemed to be looking for something.

"It's okay, I won't bother you."

Yildiz gave you a kiss on the cheek after grabbing a drink from the fridge and going up to his room, he intended to make the most of his day off from training. Since he couldn't stay with you, he decided to watch whatever was on TV.

"Signora, your kitchen is very beautiful." Your student's high-pitched voice was the first thing you heard when you entered the virtual classroom.

"Thank you, Amelia." You smiled at the screen. "I'm glad to see you guys with the camera on, I thought you guys would be embarrassed."

"You said you would only show us your house if we showed us ours."

"You guys really took this seriously." You chuckled subtly. "But come on, we have to start studying."

You heard countless sounds of children snorting, which made you laugh out loud. They turned on the microphone just to do that.

"You guys are very lazy. But don't worry, we're just going to practice what we saw in class yesterday."

Out of the corner of your eye you quickly saw a figure pass by. Which made you jump back slightly. It was Kenan, he looked at you with an awkward smile.

"I forgot my cell phone." He whispered, but not quietly enough.

"How is there with you, Signora?"

His gaze was divided between the computer screen and Kenan smiling embarrassedly, knowing he couldn't be there.

"Stop taking care of your teacher's life."

Someone who shared the same room as one of the children, screamed.

"Oh my God." Your student said as he kept his eyes peeled for Kenan's figure passing behind you trying not to be seen, "Kenan Yildiz. Do you live with Kenan Yildiz?"

The children began to talk together, some wondering who Kenan was and others almost crying.

You turned your head back a little to look at Kenan. "Sorry." He mumbled.

You gave the Turkish man a reassuring smile. "It's okay."

Not enough reason to be mad at Yildiz. You knew that the kids would find out sooner or later that Kenan was your fiancé. In fact, you don't know how they didn't find out before, your photos wearing the Juve jersey at the stadium on match days appear on several gossip portals.

You reached out to gently pull Yildiz by the sleeve of the long shirt he was wearing. Seeing the children's reaction to seeing him up close made you laugh out loud, again.

"I want you to meet someone very special to me." You saw Kenan's cheeks flush "My fiancé."

"I can't believe my favorite teacher is engaged to my favorite player."

"Kenan please, come visit us at school."

Like you, Kenan laughed at their reaction. What’s more, he felt proud knowing that the children felt so much affection for you. Seeing you becoming a teacher, as you always dreamed of, makes Yildiz feel happy.

"I'll visit you only if you pay attention in class today, okay?"

Total silence. The children just nodded.

"Great. I'll leave you guys alone now." He walked away smiling and waving at the computer camera. "Love you, good job." You read his lips and blew a kiss in his direction.

Your students were in awe, you laughed at their reaction after Yildiz's cameo. They couldn't believe.

"I can't believe my teacher is Kenan Yildiz's fiancée."

The days passed, and they couldn't get Kenan out of their heads. You even tried to get Kenan to come to a cultural event that was going to be held at the school, but the busy schedule didn't allow them to go.

But Kenan was eager to meet the school, the staff, and the kids. After all, you always speak so highly of them. Why wouldn't he enjoy meeting the people you like?

And it was on a random Thursday that he decided to pick you up at the school where you teach. Kenan arrived a few seconds before the bell rang and the children were released. He was outside the car, leaning on the side of the vehicle and smiling as he watched you say goodbye to the students.

"Miss, your fiancé is here." One of the girls warned you and you saw him waving as you looked up.

The children crowded around you. "Call him to come here, please." The sly voice made you smile and do as asked.

Yildiz was happy when he saw you waving, calling him to come in. And he promptly followed towards you.

He was hugged by several children, even those who weren't even his students. He looked at you with a smile that took up almost his entire face.

"They were waiting for this moment anxiously."

"I imagine, I promised them I would come."

[crooked-hourglass]

I've been on my soap box about generative AI before and no doubt I'll do it again, but I'm seeing more and more AI art show up in the community lately, and with the recent ST issue, it's starting to get disheartening.

The only thing I want AI to do is the things that make life a chore so I have more time to do art, not do my art so I have more time for chores.

For most of my pieces, I put how long it took me (according to procreate's in app timer). Cumatively, I've spent 100s of hours making art in the past 3 years alone, and even within those years I've learned and improved. I went to art classes for specific skills, I went to college, and I'm constantly learning new things from the wonderful artists that I have met over the years. Just for all of that time, skill and effort to be scalped to feed a machine that churns up soulless images. 

Art takes time to learn and time to make. And if you really can't draw or have no interest in learning - commission an artist or just talk about your ideas! If you're in the same fandom, it's likely we're excited about the same thing too! Or look out for artists asking for suggestions etc

AI is hurting real people. It's trained using art created by human artists who didn't give permission for their art to be used this way. It's now showing up on book covers, album covers, and even visuals on screens at concerts - all taking opportunities away from real people.

And the latest instance of AI within the ST community and support from what appears to be some sort of management, is a kick in the teeth to all of those artists who have had fan art wrongfully removed and even accounts shut down - even when clearly marked not for sale.

A key point of human made art is the act of communicating some sense of meaning or message - AI art does not and cannot do this. And AI art can never create anything fundamentally new or challenging - humans have and humans will.

Support human artists