I'm Grave, gay trans man, and I'm here to write some mean degrading shit.
I write for Degrees of Lewdity. mainly. That in mind, dark and taboo themes will be focused on here, such as noncon/dubcon, incest, abduction, and the list goes on. I will tag these but if you don't want to see that, don't follow. Honestly, I don't really like writing fluff-focused things, so don't expect a lot of that.
Info on kinks below the cut.
The DoL characters I like most right now are Bailey, Remy, Leighton, Avery, Harper, and Eden, all as men. Send asks about them.
rules
No minors. They'll be blocked on sight.
If you send something, be patient.
Big preference for trans man reader x LI men but I'll often write a gender-neutral reader.
If you can't handle separation of fiction and reality and how that factors into desire and kink, just get out.
Hey, hey! Sorry this took a bit to answer. Life, y'know?
Right now, I don't have a masterlist. I want to wait until I have a few more works to catalog since I only have the three right now.
I'm going to be tagging things with #lights out writes from now on, though!
And if anyone is wondering about content tagging, I warn for content in the description of the fic. I'm concerned about if things will show up in their character tags if I actually tag the content warnings. If anyone knows if that would block me from showing up in tags or not, let me know.
Is it love interests only? How about eden? And if not, what's your take on Morgan? (Your Whitney and kylar are absolutely stellar, I could....stare at them for a long time.....completely normally of course :3)
Hey, I'm Grave. I am new to writing for this fandom and don't really know how to find my audience lol
If you like dark content and mean older men, I like writing that. My favorite characters right now are Bailey, Remy, Leighton, Avery, Harper, and Eden.
Rules in pinned.
Asks are open if you have any ideas or prompts to share.
Reblogs encouraged, I have no idea which of my posts will actually post to the tag. 😩
REPAYMENT WITH INTEREST. — m!Avery x gender neutral reader.
Description — Your dad takes care of you. All you want to do is show a little gratitude.
Content Warnings — Incest, daddy kink, reader has a cunt, unprotected sex, mild dubcon (reader surprises Avery with being forward but he ends up being into it)
Word Count — 2288
Getting your dad's attention has always been hard. It's a competition between his work and you, you and his work, and you are more of a fixed point in his life than the whimsy of the stock market, so he expects you to always be right where you're supposed to be. Occupied with your diversions except for when it's dinnertime, vacation time, or the odd occasion when he lets you join him for a social function.
It's the last one that you like best.
At first, you thought it was because of how exciting it is to go where all the beautiful, powerful people play, surrounded by glamour and excess. It's almost always nicer than going to school or work.
But in actuality, there's always one moment you return to: your fixed point in your relationship with him.
You were just being cute, hanging onto his arm with your head leaned against him; one of your not-so-subtle tells that you're finished for the night and want to go back to the hotel room. The conversation he was caught in kept dragging on and you knew better than to interrupt.
Someone else did that for you, though, slipping into the conversational circle with lighthearted greetings, and you offered whoever it was a polite smile that showed your tiredness around the eyes.
"Aren't you a sleepy thing," this new person observed with a laugh. "Avery, you should be spiriting your partner away to bed, don't you think?"
The question left your heart feeling so light in your chest it woke you up with a jolt. Your cheeks warmed and you couldn't think of a word to say in response. Your father, on the other hand, you could feel tensing.
"This is my child, actually. Not my partner," he responded in a well-practiced casual tone. He omitted mentioning that his wife, your mother, had died, and he would rather take his child along for a night out as a treat than attend alone.
Silence followed, awkward and uncomfortable for a couple beats before apologies spilled forth. Your dad waved things off, clearly eager to get past that social hiccup, and so it left you alone in thinking about what just happened.
Things played out normally that night, for the most part. You both left for the hotel, said good night, and settled into your respective rooms in the suite to settle in.
You were awake in bed, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about your dad. Obsessing over him. Thinking of how muscular his arm felt under your hands, the scent of his cologne, how confident he was. Heat stirred in your stomach and it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of your dad's hands on your skin.
Certainly not the last, though.
And that's what brings you to him tonight, wearing something a little bold, a little daring that you bought with his money to show off what, exactly, he's been investing in. Distance made your heart grow desperate so that kicked off your impulse to catch him when he returned from a business trip.
You haven't seen each other in two weeks but you see him now, suit jacket slung over a chair in the home bar, whiskey in hand, the shadow of stubble on his lip and jaw and you can imagine the way it would catch on your fingertips and mouth.
He looks tired. Maybe even in a bad mood. It gives you pause but before you can begin to step back from the doorway, he looks over and catches you. Quietly assesses you. His eyes flit down your form and it makes you feel naked.
"...What are you wearing?" he asks haltingly, and it sounds like the most uncertain you've ever heard him be.
With little opportunity to escape that wouldn't just delay the inevitable, you steel yourself, raise your chin like he taught you. "Lingerie, Daddy."
There's a tick in his brow that makes you feel like you've made a misstep but you hold strong. You try to look as brave as you can, dressed in delicate lace and not much else. The important bits are covered but the cut and design draws attention to what's hidden rather than outright obscuring it all. Flattering. Custom-fit and tailored to you and you alone.
"Lingerie," he repeats after knocking back the rest of his drink and setting it down firmly on the bar top. "Would you like to explain why you're wearing lingerie?"
You invite yourself closer with a sway in your hips, looking almost demure aside from your outfit, with hands tucked behind your back and your eyes — you were always told that you have your late mother's eyes — dropping to the floor instead of meeting his.
"...Because I want you to look at me," you finally say as you come to a stop in front of him.
He's so tall. This close, you can smell his cologne. You want to feel the heat of his skin.
"I'm looking at you, sunshine, what is this abou—"
You drop to your knees on the cold, tiled floor, your hands on his thighs, and once again you feel him tense. Now, you look at him. And he dares to look back, to meet those eyes of yours, to see a sight that's so eerily familiar and yet so wrong all the same.
But he doesn't stop you as you pull the tongue of his belt free, leather sliding over leather. Nor when you unfasten the buckle, the button and zipper on his slacks, and dip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear. He's hard — that much is apparent, even in his reluctance — and you groan when his length bobs to stiffness once you tug his clothes down far enough.
"Let me take care of you this time, Daddy, you do so much for me," you murmur as you lean in to nuzzle against the velvety skin of his cock.
He jolts at your touch but he relaxes somewhat. A hand settles atop your head and you peek up at him, eyes hazy and pleading, heart skipping at how he's letting you continue. It's better than you could have ever hoped.
So you don't want to disappoint him or keep him waiting: you dip down to lick from the base of his cock up to the tip with the flat of your tongue. The taste of him makes your eyes flutter and you take him past your lips with a soft noise of pleasure. His hips twitch forward and you let him sink farther into your mouth with little complaint.
But you one-up him and keep going, slowly and steadily, until you take him down to the base. The effort has tears stinging in your eyes and your throat protesting against the intrusion, but you stay down for a few long beats. Eyes half-lidded. Getting wet between your thighs. Then you draw back in a mess of drool and precum all to go down again, throating him as best as you can.
"Oh, darling," he sighs out, petting at you as you go, hips rocking forward to match your pace. "When did you learn to do that?"
That makes you smile around the cock in your mouth and it encourages you to keep going, to speed up, to work until you feel him tense for a different reason this time.
He fucks your mouth in earnest once he's sure you can take it, drawing out sounds of choking and wet, making a mess of your face and neck and chest and lingerie and your eyes roll back from how good it feels to be used by him. You hold yourself down and let him do as he pleases until he drags you off his cock, making you whine once you're done coughing and clearing your throat.
Spit connects your mouth to him. He strokes your cheek, regardless of how filthy you've become, and you lean into his hand without hesitation though you keep eyeing his twitching cock with the intent to suck it again.
"I know you want more, sweet thing," he says soothingly, voice rumbling lower in his chest in a way that makes you purr in kind. "But let me take care of you too now."
He hauls you up into his arms and you smile and laugh in delight, only for your mouth to be taken by his — your father kisses you with abandon even with your mouth heavy with his taste, your face dripping with your efforts. The kiss continues even as he gets your back to a wall and rearranges your limbs to get your legs around his waist. Your lips meet with warmth and desire, breathlessness, an ache so close to being soothed.
Your clothes are shifted by his steady hand until your hot, slick cunt is bared to him. A whine is drawn from your mouth when he rubs roughly over your core to catch your clit and feel how turned on you are.
"Do you think you can take me?" he asks, voice soft and betraying a hint of concern.
"I know I can, Daddy," is your immediate reply.
The chuckle in his chest is reward enough as you feel it reverberate. He takes your word for it, out of trust and out of his own need to be sank as deep as he can inside you to sate you both, and lines himself up. Your arms are thrown around his shoulders to dig your nails into the fabric of his dress shirt and hold on as he rolls his hips up to bottom out deep into your pussy.
It makes you keen out and cling to him that much harder. He has to pause once he's settled, almost as if to school himself into not cumming already, you feel so good on his cock.
Savoring you. In disbelief that he's balls deep in you. When he pulls his hips back only to buck forward again, he's fucking you.
It's wrong. Deeply wrong. Blood and sex shouldn't mix like this. Past the fog in your brain as your father finds the perfect pace to fuck you at — urgent, firm, plunging deep into you only to draw out and bury himself inside again as quickly as possible — you blearily wonder if you'll both regret this. Tomorrow will come, and you worry that this might be all and this one illicit romp will be all you can claim.
Your father doesn't seem to have the same reservations when he noses against you to have you tip your head back, all for him to capture your mouth with a groan — your worried thoughts dim as you surrender yourself to his easy dominance.
All that matters is that he's fucking you. That you can feel him deep inside you. Raw and hot and yours for now.
Your cunt is a mess. It drips down the curve of your ass, down your dad's cock to stain his perfectly-ironed pants. It sinks in that he didn't even bother to undress further all in his eagerness to have you.
Pleasure deeper than what he's making your body feel lights you up inside and you whine out "Daddy" into his mouth in your exaltation.
"I'm right here, darling... You're being so good for me."
His head moves to tuck itself into the curve of where your neck meets your shoulder. You're a breath away from protesting when you feel the graze of teeth on your skin, the suction of his mouth, and you're near-dizzy realizing that he's marking you. Always, always his. Always have been.
Always will be.
He grinds against your clit with every thrust and the friction sends you closer and closer to your peak. Futile, but you try to move your hips with his in your desperation to cum all over the cock that made you. It's clear to him what you want so he pounds you into the wall harder, determined to get you both there, kissing your skin and grunting with the effort.
You cum first. It's strong and full-bodied, making your back arch and has you clinging to him that much harder. Your legs around his waist keep him sank inside of you as your cunt squeezes and spasms around him without any chance of pulling out. It's not as if he tries to. So he's quick to join you with quick, shallow pumps as he fills you with his cum.
As you both come down, twitching and breathless, you nuzzle against him with a noise of contentment. He kisses your forehead and moves to let your legs down and have you stand but you protest. Laughing fondly, he fixes his pants then gathers you up in his arms and carries you off, up the stairs, pausing once he ascends to the landing.
Considering, between your room and his.
It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time he carried you to bed.
He turns and walks to his room.
It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time you both slept in the same bed.
This time, however, he sets you down and pulls the sheets over you. For a few moments, he's gone and all you hear is the sound of fabric rustling. The mattress dips behind you and you're drawn into his arms back against his bare chest.
When was the last time he had someone else in this bed?
A kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck and he squeezes you tight. Safe and sound. Questions were to be saved for tomorrow, but for the night, nothing more complicated than slumber.
UNWRAP A SURPRISE. — m!Leighton x trans man reader.
Description — You're a cute little masochistic troublemaker and Leighton sees less and less reason to pretend you don't want him just as badly as he wants you. He doesn't expect what he finds in your pants. But he's even more excited to play with it after he's seen it.
Content Warnings — Dubcon, age gap, reader has a cunt and can get impregnated, Leighton finds out you're trans (he's cool about it but is also rabidly horny about it), impact play, degradation, unprotected sex, masochist reader, brat reader
Time blurs from pain like how tears blur your vision; swimming and untethered, a smear of color. It could have only been a few minutes but the punishment dragged on, your ass stinging from the unrelenting onslaught of Leighton's steady hand. He has you bent over his desk, his other hand busy pinning your wrists to the small of your back while you struggle.
You've had detention every day after school for the past two weeks and once Leighton got the impression that you were going to be a regular, all illusions of decency fell away and he shoved you down to get acquainted with his desk.
Every day, you've showed up late with a bad attitude and it only worsened when he started spanking you. Talking back, biting, giving him a solid kick to the knee. But he's only redoubled his efforts in disciplining you with his own hands.
If you have to take a guess why, it's probably because of the way he came in his pants once or twice during sessions. Of course you mock him for it, snide and sneering, feeling safe in the fact that he hasn't gone any farther than yanking your pants down to expose the underwear pulled snug over your ass before he loses his grip.
Today feels different, though. It's the same routine as ever, the same place as it always has been, the same time. You're whining and protesting as he continues but your core feels tight. Underwear is embarrassingly soaked through. So much pressure builds that you desperately rub your thighs together to alleviate it, to give yourself what you need to just cum and hope the headteacher doesn't notice.
Focused. So focused you're quiet, biting your bottom lip hard to stifle the noises of pleasure trying to escape your mouth. Nails dig into the soft flesh of your palms as you crest closer and closer, then it hits you.
Unable to help yourself, you moan and you moan loud.
Your body shakes as the orgasm pulls you taut and makes light and heat spark up your body. Writhing. Pushing back against his hand. Orgasming so hard that you almost don't hear what Leighton says.
"Are you cumming?" he asks with a tone somewhere between shocked fondness and incredulity. "You slutty little boy, is that why you keep getting detention?"
The hits come harder and it draws out your pathetic orgasm that much longer. Dimly, you wonder if this is enough to push Leighton over as well. But then he stops and you're left twitching and bleary. Panting for air as you slump over weakly. It barely registers to you that he let your arms go, and all you do is pillow them under your head as you try to settle into your body again.
Cold air hits the bare skin of your ass and you jolt, thoughts coming into clarity as Leighton yanks your underwear and pants down. Your hand shoots out behind you to try to struggle against the undressing only to get swatted aside.
"Stop!" you spit out, trying again in vain to tug your pants up. "You fucking pervert, stop!"
"Now now, it's not fair that you got to cum and I don't, is it?" he drawls as he sharply pulls your underwear down under the curve of your ass. "So I'm going to punish your hole next... But look at you, whore that you are, it might not be that much of a punishment, hm?"
Flustered, your face feels hot as you give another defiant wriggle. It pains you that it's come to this, but you use a word you've never said to Leighton before: "P-please."
That's enough of an anomaly to give him pause. But you can practically hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice. "Please? Is this what it takes to get you to be a good boy? A spanking and a promise to use you? Oh, you've convinced me."
He pulls your pants and underwear down to your knees and you bury your face in your arms, mortified, waiting for him to see just what you were so keen on hiding from him.
The air is quiet and still, all the energy sucked from the room as you feel Leighton's eyes fixed firmly between your thighs. You're afraid. You tense and brace for the worse.
"...Have you been hiding this cute set of holes from me this whole time?"
A handful of your ass is grabbed just to reveal you even more, your cunt spreading open the slightest bit to give him a peak at the soft pink inside, the hard bud of your clit. You can't even find the words to reply. You're grateful that he can't see the face you're making.
Without warning, he drops to his knees and spreads your legs wider, spreads your cunt out, before he loudly fumbles with his belt and zipper to free his cock. His tongue drags up from your clit to your hole and you moan out helplessly into your sleeve and he lets out a sympathetic groan as he tastes you, jacking off all the while.
Your eyes roll back and your legs wobble as he dutifully gives you head. What he does with his tongue has you on track for another orgasm and you don't have the mind to tell him to stop again, not when it's this good.
Leighton shifts to get his mouth on your clit and uses the newly-freed room to slide two fingers into your dripping wet pussy — he fucks you on them, working on the angle until he finds the texture of your g-spot, then coaxes you to another loud, messy orgasm that leaves his face slick with your cum.
Twitching, boneless, and sniffling, you feel exhausted. You almost feel like you could take a nap right there on his desk, just as you are: exposed, thighs drenched with arousal, face tear-stained and flushed.
Something warm and hard slides through the folds of your sensitive pussy and your hips twitch away, only for Leighton's hips to follow. His cock is swiping up all that wetness and grinding against your clit. It makes you feel dizzy with need you don't want but you do little to stop him.
"You're going to take it like the whore you are," he says as he angles to nudge the head against your needy hole, "and you're going to thank me for it."
All you can manage to get out is a whiny "Headteacher—" before he notches the tip inside and begins to slide in, slow and steady. Relishing in the way you open up around him, in how heavenly and wet and perfect you feel on his cock, and your thoughts are much the same for your side.
The headteacher's cock is thick and he still hasn't bottomed out. He nudges deeper as your mind unravels from how good he feels inside of you. Not a moment is spared on the thought to ask to use a condom.
In time, his hips roll up against your ass to settle himself as deep into your cunt as possible, making you whine and even push back on him. You hear him laugh, feel him press a hand to the middle of your back to keep you bent over, then he truly starts fucking you.
Quick, sloppy, and rough. Thrusting into you with abandon, not a care about your comfort but you savor the slight burn you feel from the way he's stretching you out. You grunt with every buck of his hips and drool pathetically as your headteacher makes good use of your hole. It doesn't take him long to start panting. For sweat to bead on his brow with the effort.
"Not even swearing at me now... You really did just need a good fuck. slut."
Weakly, you swear at him, but it's futile. He laughs at you and his thrusts come that much harder.
You crash toward your third orgasm of that session and Leighton feels helpful enough to hook an arm around your waist to rub at your clit without remorse to get you there.
"Go ahead, cum. I want it to get me off."
If you had enough sense, you might have felt shame at how quickly you came after he commanded you to. Rather than that, you just moan and arch your back as he fucks you through your orgasm, your cunt desperately milks his cock in want of his load and he crests soon after. He grinds inside and dumps his cum as deep into your pulsing cunt as he can.
You feel so full.
He pets over your hip as he stays buried inside of you, seemingly loathe to move when he has a hot, tight hole around his cock. You're limp and breathless, stuffed full of him, your pussy holding onto every drop of his cum. Despite your exhaustion, you almost want another round. You just want more.
"I think you've learned your lesson for today," Leighton says thoughtfully. "But there's a lot more for you to learn. I expect to see you here tomorrow."
OBEDIENCE LESSONS. — m!Remy x gender neutral cow!reader.
Description — You've pissed Remy off for far too long. Either you break or he'll break you into the stupid little cow you are himself.
Content Warnings — Noncon, pet play, reader has a cunt and can get impregnated, breeding/impregnation, impact play, breathplay, degradation
Whenever you spat and kicked and swore as you were being wrangled, Remy had to remind himself that having spirit was a good thing. It meant you were strong, on one hand. On the other, you were a pain in the fucking ass whenever you were conscious.
You were a stubborn, contrary shit and the number of farmhands willing to deal with you was dwindling. Handing out cash incentives to deal with one pissy cow wasn't good business, not with Alex threatening to break even soon.
The smart thing to do would be to cut his losses. But the sting of a split lip from your flailing didn't leave his head clear.
All it took was an instant, where Remy's shock made his long-simmering rage boil up, and one of those gloved hands shot out and slapped you smartly across the face. Then it was your turn to be shocked, reaching up to touch the warming skin, your own fury rekindled and so ready to give him hell only for him to shock you again.
He removed the heavy collar he had fixed to you and threw it aside with a clang. It was quickly replaced by his own hand, grasping tighter around your throat while your instincts had you clawing at his wrist trying to make him let go. All it did was earn you another slap.
"You stupid cow," Remy hissed out with venom. "I've given you every opportunity to be good, to get treats, to be taken care of..."
Fierce tears built in your eyes as he used his grip to shove you down to the floor, the impact almost making you dizzy with the head rush it gave you and how thin the air was getting in your lungs. It gave Remy an opportunity to grab your thigh and push one of your legs up to your chest and expose your defenseless cunt. He held fast to your thigh even as you struggled against him.
Then he spanked your pussy. It made you shout and jolt and so he did it again. And again. Over and over again, the sound of it sharp cracks in the otherwise quiet corner of the barn he had you in. Relentless and furious.
You were sniffling and panting as the abuse continued, and it only ended with one final, pointed slap before Remy's arm withdrew. Only for him to grab your jaw and squeeze until you opened your mouth, all to rub his gloved fingers over your tongue, practically fucking your mouth with them. They tasted of leather and you and your face flushed once you realized he was forcing you to lick up your own arousal.
"Do you act like a brat because you get off on the pain?" Remy asked, his voice thick with incredulity. "Do you just want to get hurt and owned?"
Another slap to your face to disorient you, then he was slotting himself between your legs and you had to bite back a moan when you felt the bulge of his erection shove up against your slick cunt.
"S-shut up, fuck you—"
"Oh, I'm about to, little cow, be patient."
That made your eyes go wide and you tried to wriggle away from him, getting into your usual routine of trying to kick him, but he pinned your hip down to the floor and messily ground the heel of his hand against your pussy. The sound it made was humiliating — you were so wet that it was loud enough to hear with him touching you so forcefully. You writhed and grit your teeth.
Then Remy shoved two fingers into you to test the readiness and give and your body seized up, your walls squeezed tight around the intrusion. You thought you heard him grunt in pleasure at feeling you from the inside but your train of thought was derailed once he started fingerfucking your drooling cunt.
You grabbed at his wrist again and your nails dug into the exposed skin but did little more to stop him — you felt like you were just trying to hold onto your sanity instead of fight him off as he coaxed up against your g-spot while he thumbed at your clit and forced you closer to orgasm.
"This is all you needed to be good for me. Slutty thing," he rumbled darkly.
Two fingers turned to three, turned to the sound of Remy's pants being fussed with and shoved down just far enough to let his cock spring out. He wasn't letting you cum and you felt like you were losing your mind being denied over and over again. It distracted you from your usual fight and it filled Remy with such sick satisfaction to finally see his troublemaker flat on their back taking it.
And you took it. Every single inch. With your legs over his shoulders folded in half, that thick cock stretching you out far more than his fingers prepared you for. Your mouth was wide open while your eyes were mostly closed, dazed, all attention drawn to the way he was splitting your pussy open in one slow, determined push to bottom out.
Finally, bare and balls deep in you, Remy gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned your arms down above your head then began fucking you into the floorboards. They creaked under the force of each thrust. You whined and moaned, nails digging into your own skin, your core hot and needy and your control gone.
Face to face with Remy, panting in each other's faces, until he brought your mouths together to fuck your mouth with his tongue too. You were too hazy to kiss him back but he didn't mind using your holes with little input from you.
He squeezed a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit and you could hardly stand it for a few moments before you arched up against him and came messily all over his still-thrusting cock. It exposed the vulnerable column of your neck and he was quick to dip in and suck and bite bruises into your skin as he fucked you through your orgasm.
"I own you," he growled out into the shell of your ear, "and you're never going to forget that. You're going to be a good little breeder cow from now on, you don't have a choice."
Breeder. Even in your fucked stupid state that word stood out and it rekindled a sense of fear that rose above the lust he forced upon you. You began to struggle. He pushed more of his weight down onto you to keep you pinned where you were, his body heavy and you lying helpless beneath him, the sound of your fucking loud and wet and lewd.
"No," you whimpered, "I-I don't want to be preg—"
"Cows don't speak," he snarled before he shoved his fingers into your mouth to shut you up.
Somehow, he found it in him to fuck you harder and rougher, hardly caring that you were orgasming again and again around him as he chased his own end and goal. Your eyes were rolled back as you practically ragdolled underneath him and took it.
It felt like he was deep enough to bruise your cervix. It felt like he could get you pregnant in one go. It felt so good you were in tears.
Your hole was raw and tender by the time he shoved himself as deep as he could inside of you, finally pulsing out his orgasm in thick spurts that you could feel with the way his cock twitched and throbbed. It flooded you until it spilled over, running down out of your hole and marking you even more as his property.
A few lazy rocks of his hips helped ensure everything settled right where he wanted it. He eased back to let his softening cock free only to quickly replace it with his fingers, fucking the cum that dripped out of you back inside your tender pussy, and making you cum again for good measure. To see that pathetic look you made when you came but also to ensure that his seed would take.
You both were sweaty, hair complete messes, by the time he knelt between your legs and let them down from his shoulders. Overwhelmed and, honestly, half-asleep from the exhaustion and countless orgasms, you did little except turn your head away in protest when he leaned down to kiss your forehead and scratch behind your ear. You blinked at him hazily, almost confused by the show of affection.
"Be a good cow and hold onto that for now. We'll take great care to make sure you're knocked up after I make my rounds."
