#hes just a turnip boy okay….

[kyshiwarrior]

the true jet apologist is the cabbage man cuz jet never did that man wrong 💚

[honeekyuu]

photo booth strip. [kageyama tobio x f!reader]

>>Kageyama makes you smile that first day in the sandbox, and he spends the rest of his life learning what it means to make you happy.

or

You ask Kageyama to marry you, and he says yes, but you both realize over the years that it's just not that simple.<<

____________________________

tags: smut, fluff, angst, childhood best friends to lovers, childhood marriage agreement, sandbox confessions, emotionally stunted kageyama, hinata is too smart for his own good, younger yachi, lessons in growing up, college age kageyama, penetrative sex, first time

a/n: everything about kageyama in this fic makes me want to put him right in my pocket. enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

Will you be my prince?”

The first words you ever speak to Kageyama Tobio, in the middle of the sandbox at the neighborhood park.

“I think we should get married.”

The last words you say to him, that same day, as your parents are warning you that it’s time to head home.

You’re wearing a princess costume, holding a plastic fairy wand.

He’s holding a volleyball, the crown you’d placed on his head an hour ago now lopsided.

“ Okay .” 

His response, both times. Nothing more, nothing less.

It’s enough to make you smile. Both times.

He doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t know why you’re so happy.

Only when he sees you the next day, waiting in the sandbox for him, does he realize that he doesn’t know your name.

–

You’re a year younger than him. He learns this for the first time when he mentions the elementary school he goes to, almost a week after you meet.

You tell him that you’ll be going there once the summer’s over.

He thinks nothing of it, not until he hears someone calling his name on the first day. He turns, surprised, because he doesn’t really talk to his classmates.

And then he realizes it’s the girl from the park.

You run up to him excitedly and reach for his hand. He lets you take it.

“Can I see you at lunch? Will you come find me?”

He doesn’t think that’s how it works. His teacher always lines them up and they eat lunch in a circle, out in the courtyard.

“Okay.”

He wonders if it hurts when you smile that wide.

By lunch, you’ve forgotten about his promise. You’re meeting so many new people and making friends, and your teacher is a nice lady who lines you all up and leads you down to the courtyard to eat lunch. 

You’re in the hallway, waiting for the line to move outside, when you hear the tapping of a finger on a window. You turn, finding Kageyama inside his classroom, standing on his tiptoes and tapping gently on the glass for your attention. His face is blank even when he waves.

That’s the first time you properly fall for Kageyama Tobio. Because he’d remembered, even when you hadn’t.

–

On your first day of middle school, you hover nervously around your classroom door. You check and re-check that you have everything in your bag, if only to have a reason to look busy.

This place is a lot bigger than your last school, and you haven’t been able to find your friends yet. Not everyone from your elementary school class would be here, so you’re desperate to find the few familiar faces that will.

You hear his voice in the stairwell, just beside your classroom. He sounds irritated, that harsh edge easy to identify. You peek around the corner, finding him on the stairs. He’s berating someone, telling them they need to give more energy during practice.

“Kageyama!” You stand at the top of the stairs, clutching your bag and beaming down at him. You’re filled with relief, because at least you’d found him .

He and his teammate turn, and you can’t help but think the boy next to him resembles a turnip.

“Oh. Y/n. You made it.” Tobio’s face is blank as always, but he’d lost the edge in his voice. You giggle, skipping down the steps to meet him, and cling to his arm once you’re within reach. The unfamiliar boy watches you with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend , Kageyama.” He stares down at your linked arms and then meets Kageyama’s eyes, dumbfounded. “There’s no way the King got himself a girl.”

You scrunch your brows together. King ? Tobio had never mentioned a nickname like that.

From the way his arm tenses under your hand, you realize that it’s one he doesn’t like very much. 

He takes the volleyball that’s in his other hand and shoves it into Turnip Boy’s chest.

“Focus on what’s important, Kindaichi. Learn to meet my sets before I find someone else.”

You’d heard him talk like that before – his tunnel vision when it comes to the sport had gotten him into trouble a few times in elementary school, too.

The boy leaves with a huff, and Kageyama turns to face you. His arm slips out of your grasp, but he says nothing when you just reach for his hand.

“Do you have practice today?”

He tilts his head.

“I have practice every day.”

You nod, expecting that. “Can we eat lunch together?” You’re not sure if he has other second-year friends that he hangs out with. But he just shrugs, putting his free hand on your elbow and moving you out of the way of a group of girls coming up the stairs.

“Okay.”

You hear your name being called, and you realize one of the girls is a friend from your last school. She giggles when she sees Kageyama and teases you.

“Oh, it’s your husband!”

He says nothing about it, watching you blush and brush your hair behind your ear. He doesn’t understand why you get so shy. You’re the one who had spent all of elementary school telling anyone who would listen that you would marry him one day.

The other girls who don’t know you yet become curious, whispering to each other when your friend says that. Your ears turn pink, and you glance at him nervously. He just blinks at you, because you’re snatching your hand out of his like you weren’t the one who’d grabbed it.

The girls disappear around the corner, and you look at him with a crease in your brow.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to tell anyone here. It’s probably embarrassing.” You’re in middle school now. It’s harder to talk about your crush so openly, and he might not want that kind of attention.

But he just glances at the spot where those girls had been and then meets your eyes.

“But they already know.”

You look him over, your face flushed.

“So… I can… talk about it?”

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He’s not really sure why you squeal and throw your arms around his neck in a hug. He’s just glad he doesn’t lose his balance on the stairs.

By the end of the day, even his own classmates are teasing him about you. He’s too busy reviewing videos from his last practice to care.

–

Both of your families know that you plan to marry him. His sister bullies him anytime he doesn’t greet you with a hug, saying he’s going to be a bad husband. Your mom calls him ‘ Son-in-law ’, and he’d decided early on to call her ‘ Mom ’, because that had seemed like the logical response at the time.

Both of your dads often try to help him practice out in your backyard, even though his sister’s the only other volleyball player and, frankly, your father never really got a grasp on the rules.

Your mother starts teaching you how to cook after you beg her to let you make a bento for Kageyama’s lunch, and your father only knocks you affectionately on the head with his newspaper when he finds you drawing hearts around Tobio’s name in your notebook instead of finishing your math homework.

Your friends don’t complain when you disappear up to the roof every day for lunch, because that’s your only real alone time with him. And by the time you graduate middle school and secure your enrollment at Karasuno, Kageyama’s waking up every day to the 20+ texts you’d send him every night while he’s sleeping.

Half of them are about wedding planning, which you both know is way too far in the future, but you have fun dreaming about the perfect wedding and he only really shuts down your ideas when you say something absurd.

What do you think about having goats bring our rings down the aisle?

Where are we going to get goats?

Oh… You’re right.

And wouldn’t the goats eat the rings?

Oh. That’s true too.

And how are we going to get the rings to balance on the goats?

Okay, I get it!

You’re not oblivious. You know that Kageyama has no interest in wedding planning. He only thinks about volleyball, and he lets you do whatever you want – not because he wants you to have everything your heart desires, but because he simply doesn’t care .

But he’s a man of few words, and he’s also quite literally incapable of lying for someone else’s sake. So if he continues to accept you and your fairytale daydreams, then you’ll continue to see him as your prince.

–

The first time you meet the Karasuno Volleyball Club, it’s with a shy bow and Kageyama’s bento hiding half of your embarrassed face. 

It’s your second week of high school, and there is an entire volleyball team of boys staring you dead in the eye in shock.

You skirt around the edge of the court toward Tobio’s bag. He’d mentioned a lunchtime practice, and you’d just wanted to drop this off so he could eat when he had time. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and you don’t mind, because this is one thing you’d rather not distract him from.

You don’t mind being second only to volleyball.

You set the lunchbox down and turn to sneak out of the gym, but there’s a boy with orange hair in your face.

“Who are you? Why are you bringing Kageyama his lunch?” His voice carries, catching the attention of everyone in the room, including Tobio.

“O-Oh, sorry, I’m just–” You fumble for your words, trying to duck around this shockingly agile shorty.

“Y/n.” Kageyama’s calling from the court, and you feel embarrassed that you’d interrupted him. He shows no irritation about it, though, his face blank as ever.

“ Sorry …” You whisper, as if you’re trying to avoid detection. As if you don’t have everyone’s eyes on you. 

You manage to dodge the small boy and make a run for it, calling back to him while you race for the door. “Make sure you eat everything and drink lots of water– Okay, bye !”

You fly off the steps of the gym and round the corner, slamming your back against the wall outside so you can catch your breath. Your head is just under the window, which is propped open. You hear his teammates grilling him as he approaches the side of the court for the bento.

“ Is that your girlfriend?! She made you lunch! ” It’s the small boy’s voice. 

You hear the rattle of chopsticks as he unpacks the containers and pops them open. His mouth is full of food when he responds, and he’s deadpan as always, not an ounce of emotion in his voice, but–

“That’s Y/n. Be nice to her. We’re going to get married.”

–that’s the first time he says it.

You fall for him all over again.

–

You’re a second year when Kageyama Tobio asks you out.

He’s napping at his desk at the beginning of the day, exhausted from morning practice. His phone keeps buzzing in his bag, the usual stream of texts from you, but he’s honestly too tired to even notice.

Hinata slams down into the seat in front of him, and Kageyama cracks his eyes open in annoyance. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima aren’t far behind, their own desks beside his.

“Could you be a little less annoying?”

Hinata just stares down at him with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, Kageyama.” 

Tobio puts his forehead back on his desk with a grunt of acknowledgement.

“How far have you and Y/n gone?”

He hears Tsukishima choke on his drink, and Yamaguchi’s scolding Hinata under his breath.

“You can’t just ask him that-”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama lifts his head, staring straight at his friend. “How far we’ve gone – what does that mean?”

Even Yamaguchi stares at him in disbelief now.

“What are you talking about?” Tsukki’s voice is judgmental as always. “He’s asking what you and your girlfriend have done together. You know…” He waits for Kageyama to get it, but it never clicks.

Tobio just looks at each of them blankly. “Y/n isn’t my girlfriend.”

He wonders if the bugs outside are buzzing louder than normal, or if it’s just really quiet in the room right now.

“But…” Yamaguchi scratches his cheek. “Did you guys decide to not get married after all?”

Kageyama tilts his head. “No…? We still are.”

The freckled boy stares back. “Then wouldn’t you have to date first?”

“Date?”

“Oh, my God-” Tsukishima leans his elbows on his desk and buries his face in his hands. Hinata grabs the front of Kageyama’s uniform roughly.

“Dude. Don’t tell me you never asked her out.” When Tobio just glares at the grip Hinata has on him, his friend gawks at him. “You have to date first, Kageyama! What if she’s been waiting all this time for you to ask her?!”

“ I think there’s something wrong with her .” Tsukishima’s voice is muffled. “ How could she possibly still be set on this guy? ”

Kageyama looks around at his friends as their classmates finally start to file into the room for the day. They all just sigh in frustration, as if this were something he should have known already.

Oh.

He reaches into his bag for his phone. He starts to type out a message, but Yamaguchi snatches the thing out of his hands. He looks appalled.

“You can’t ask her over text , Tobio.” 

Tsukishima just laughs and shakes his head. Kageyama ignores him.

“Well, how do I-”

“You ask her in person.”

Oh.

He waits until lunch, when you appear at the door to the third-year classroom. He follows you upstairs to the roof, and then he lets you excitedly explain the lunch you’d made him. He eats in silence, listening to you ramble about your classmates and the fact that your teacher had told you to start thinking about college.

“-think that maybe I should start looking at majors–”

“Hey. Y/n.”

You pause, surprised at his interruption. He’s staring down at his lunch, poking around with his chopsticks. Does he not like the food?

“What’s wro-”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You don’t think you heard him correctly.

“What…?”

His ears turn red. He knows this moment is important, but he doesn’t know how to make it go smoother.

“Uh-” He pokes at a piece of rice. “The guys said that I-That we need to date before we get married. They said I should have asked you sooner, but I didn’t know that I was supposed to-”

“O-Oh, that’s okay!” You flap your hands at him frantically. “It’s okay, I wasn’t waiting or anything!” To be honest, you hadn’t thought this moment through at all. You’d known that you would date eventually, but you thought it would happen later. Or maybe that you’d skip that part entirely and just plan the wedding after college.

You never thought that he’d…

Is the day suddenly warmer than it was before? Did the sun come out? 

You fan yourself, pressing your cold drink to the side of your face. Dating Kageyama Tobio is… not something you considered, even after all this time.

“Hey.”

You meet his eyes, flushing when you see how nervous he is.

If even he’s nervous, then…

“You never answered me.”

You swallow.

“O-Okay.” He watches you carefully, and you can feel it even when you look away in embarrassment. “Sure… Let’s date.”

–

“What’s the difference between dating and what we were doing before?” Kageyama’s twirling his pencil around his fingers, trying and failing to focus on his homework. It’s just too boring.

You’re across from him, almost done with your own work. You’re sitting at the table in your room, just a couple days after he asks you out. In that time, nothing’s really changed.

You flush, trying to think of what to say.

“Uh… I’m not sure. I think we just go on dates…? Hold hands and… stuff…?” You don’t want to give him more information than that.

He yawns, reaching for his phone. “Okay. Let’s go on a date, then.” 

You lean forward to see what he’s doing, and you watch him type ‘ places to date’ into his search engine. You giggle to yourself and then gasp, because the local movie theater had popped up in the results.

“Ooh, a movie!”

He says nothing, clicking on the website and scrolling through the showings silently. You point to one that’s just come out.

“The trailer for that looks interesting. You might like it.”

He buys tickets without even thinking about it.

You wonder if he even wants to see it. But he doesn’t say otherwise, and he’s already paid, so you’re not sure what would change if you asked.

When he picks you up the next morning, leaning his body lazily over the fence of your house and tapping obnoxiously at the small bell that hangs from the metal bar like he always does, you’re stunned to find that he’s dressed well.

He looks effortlessly pretty, his sweater well-suited to the pair of jeans he has on – you didn’t even know he owned clothes outside of his sweats and his uniform.

You stop short just outside your door, taken aback by how good he looks. You watch his eyes trail down the length of your body, analyzing your dress, your hair, and your jewelry. You’d spent far too long deciding on it all, and your mom is currently standing behind you with a camera, squealing as she takes pictures of the two of you.

But Kageyama says nothing, about any of it. He just keeps his eyes on you as you approach the fence.

“Hi… You look nice.” You mumble the words, trying to keep your blush in check.

“Thanks…” He trails off, looking like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t, only straightening and waiting for you to join him on the sidewalk. And then he waves blankly at your mom, his hand finding yours as you start to walk away. He gives you a simple response when you look up at him in surprise.

“What? You said we were supposed to hold hands.”

You stare down at your shoes the entire walk to the theater, your face painfully warm. 

He buys you a large popcorn and drink to share, and you sit in the crowded theater with the bucket in your lap, grateful that it’s dark. You smoothe out your dress and tuck your hair behind your ear, trying not to ruin your outfit.

He takes your hand again once the movie starts, his voice low when he mumbles something to you.

“You look nice, too.”

You don’t really know what the movie ends up being about. Your heart is beating in your ears the whole time.

–

“Hey, Kageyama. How far have you and Y/n gone?”

Kageyama glares up at Hinata through his lashes. “Why do you always ask me that?”

“Because you’re a case study in idiocy.” Tsukishima flips another page of his magazine, his back against the frame of Yamaguchi’s bed. He’s not really reading it. He just likes to roll it up and smack Hinata over the head with it when he gets distracted from his studies.

Yamaguchi pushes gently at Tsukki’s arm without looking, just writing down another answer on his worksheet as he studies at the table with Hinata and Kageyama. “Leave him be. He’s doing his best.”

Kageyama wonders if the flush to Tsukishima’s cheeks is because he’d been scolded or because it was Yamaguchi.

He texts Hinata about it discreetly.

Does Tsukishima like Yamaguchi?

And then he stills when he watches the way his best friend’s eyes flit to the screen when it lights up and then up at him like he’s stupid. Hinata never takes his deadpan stare off of him, not even as he’s reaching for the phone and typing out a response.

They’ve been dating since first year.

Oh.

Kageyama purses his lips and puts his phone down. That’s enough meddling for one day.

It buzzes again a second later.

Answer my question, Dipshit.

Kageyama scowls.

I don’t know what you want me to tell you.

You’ve been dating for six months. What’s happened?

He furrows a brow.

We go on a date every week.

Hinata looks impressed.

You hold hands?

Yeah.

Kiss?

Kageyama blinks.

Kiss what?

Hinata no longer looks impressed. He meets Kageyama’s eyes again, that deadpan starting to get on Tobio’s nerves. And then he reaches across the table to show his phone to Tsukishima without a word. Kageyama watches Tsukki’s eyes dart down the length of the conversation.

And then he’s slapping his magazine shut and rolling it up. Kageyama doesn’t have time to avoid the harsh smack to the top of his head. 

He barely gets his arms up and over his head in time to block another well-aimed swing.

“What the fuck!”

“You haven’t kissed her yet ?” Tsukishima smacks him again, and then once more, because he’s properly tired of Kageyama Tobio. And then he leans back against Yamaguchi, sighing through his nose. “I feel so bad for her, I’m considering dating her myself.”

“Hey!” It’s Yamaguchi, his pout obnoxious.

Kageyama really wonders how he hadn’t noticed their relationship before this.

Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose. “Someone please teach Kageyama how to be a boyfriend with feelings. I don’t have the time.”

Hinata snorts. “I don’t think we’d ask you for the time, anyway.” He doesn’t even bother avoiding the magazine smack to the side of his face. He deserved it.

Yamaguchi reaches into his bag for his laptop, nudging his boyfriend with a knee. “Go make snacks. I’ll find movies.”

Tsukki says nothing, just ruffling Yamaguchi’s hair as he stands and steps over him.

Surely, they didn’t always do things like that. Kageyama would have noticed… right?

He shakes his head, watching Yamaguchi set up his laptop at a distance where they can all see the screen. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but at least he doesn’t have to do his homework.

His friends keep him trapped in Yamaguchi’s room for the next six hours, forcing him to watch rom-coms and yelling ‘ Do that! ’ every time they see a romantic gesture, because they know Kageyama won’t think twice about it otherwise.

–

“Hey. Y/n.” He’s standing at the door to your classroom, just after 6pm on a Thursday. The sun is starting to set, but you’re both still here.

The volleyball season had ended a few weeks ago, his last time playing for Karasuno there and gone before he’d realized it. But he and Hinata had been scouted by the same school in Tokyo, so they use the now-empty gym to practice almost every day.

You’d waited for him after your student council meeting, filling out homework with a speed that he’d always envied just a little bit. You’re brighter than you realize, especially with numbers. 

He hadn’t noticed until last year, when you’d gone for fun with them to Tokyo for the annual summer training camp and met Kuroo. You’d gotten on extremely well with him, and Kageyama had watched you two talk about chemistry and math as if they were exciting TV shows he’d never heard of.

Kuroo had gotten him alone soon after, mentioning to him that Tokyo had one of the best STEM programs in the country. He hadn’t realized what the Nekoma captain had meant at the time – not until he’d first been contacted by the university and had started, unknowingly, thinking that it would be nice to keep going to school with you after graduation.

“Oh, Kags!” You finish writing something with a smile and then start packing up. “I have a packet due next week, so I wanted to finish it before you were done practicing.”

He wouldn’t have started that packet until the night before.

He watches you skip up to him, in a rush even though you’re the only two people here. You walk down the hall together, and you peer up at him while you ask him about his day.

“Did you eat well? Sorry that I couldn’t see you for lunch – my class president wanted to talk about…” You talk excitedly, and he stops listening just as you’re approaching the top of the stairs.

There’s no one around right now, just noise drifting through the open window on the first landing of the stairs — the soccer team, running laps outside. It’s almost March. The frost is finally melting off of the grass. He’ll be graduating soon.

His mind drifts to what Hinata told him as they were parting ways, not even fifteen minutes ago.

‘Don’t make her wait much longer.’

Have you been waiting? Have you been expecting him to make a move on you? It had been a week since the forced movie night, but you haven’t given him any of the so-called signs he’d been made to notice in those scenes. 

No lingering close to him, no biting your lip and looking up at him wistfully.

He’s starting to think the movies were being dramatic.

Do you even want him to kiss you?

“-yama… Kags?” 

He stops at the landing, just in front of the window. He turns, realizing you’d stopped halfway down the stairs, just examining him with lifted eyebrows. You look mildly concerned, a soft smile tugging at your lips when he mumbles ‘ Huh? ’, and you move to join him.

“Are you okay?” Your eyes flit around his face. “Are you worried about training?”

No. He’s not.

For once, he’s not.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Does he want to kiss you? 

He’s not sure. He enjoys your weekly dates – movie and cafe dates, and one amusement park date where your photo booth shots had been so funny that he’d snorted milk out through his nose. Those photos sit in his wallet now, because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to keep them and because the fact that he’d put them there had made you oddly happy.

 And he’s realized recently that he likes the feeling of your fingers interlaced with his, hands joined and shoved into the pocket of his coat to stay warm. He likes having you close like that. And when he’d ask you to remove his finger wraps for him after practice, he likes how delicate you’d be about it, how soft your fingers were against his calloused ones.

Not to mention the strand of some unplaced emotion that would sit in his chest when his teammates would complain about him having a girlfriend. They’d whine anytime you would help him – ‘ We don’t have pretty girls who do that for us, Kageyama. Stop showing off. ’ – and he’d always feel a little weird. A little too proud that you wouldn’t do that for anyone else. A little too happy that he’s special.

Still, he has no idea about kissing. He hadn’t thought about it before last week. It had never crossed his mind. But now… he feels like he should do it. Hinata told him to. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima told him to. They were sure that you’d been waiting for him to do it.

You must have been waiting, then. They would know better than he does.

“-m sure that your drills have been going okay with Hinata, right? And you have some time still, if you wanted to fix something-” You cut short, realizing he’s stepping close to you. His face is blank, but he still looks like he’s thinking hard about something.

He steps in again, and you step back to give him some space. He follows, and soon you’re backed up against the wall on the stairs. Cold air drifts in through the window, along with the sounds of a soccer practice. 

You swallow, meeting Kageyama’s eyes nervously.

“What’s… What are you…”

He looks you over. Your nose is red from the chill, and you’re looking up at him in confusion, like you have no idea what he’s doing. He realizes that, no, you hadn’t been waiting. 

You hadn’t been expecting anything from him.

For some reason, that bothers him.

He sets his hands on your elbows, stepping close and dipping his head. You don’t have time to think, and Kageyama’s leaning in before you can bring yourself to wonder what he’s doing.

There, on that set of stairs between the first and second floor, just after 6pm on a Thursday. There are people outside, with no idea what’s happening not that far away. The sun is about to set, and the bugs are starting to come out of their winter hiding, a quiet buzz filling the air. It’s almost March. He’ll be graduating soon.

That’s the first time Kageyama Tobio kisses you.

He pulls away after a moment, tilting his head away to give you space but staying close enough that his hair gets in your eyes a little bit. You don’t remember the last time you took a breath, but it doesn’t matter, because you’ve never seen Kageyama blush before. Not like that.

You swallow hard, your skin tingling where he has his hands on your elbows. Another cold breeze drifts in, but you barely feel it. Your face is warm enough, and you think the heat radiating around you might not just be you.

Eventually, he takes a small step back, his head still ducked when he releases you. His ears are ringing, and he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t feel his fingers. And when he looks up at you through his bangs, seeing the way you’re still leaning against the wall for support as you hug your arms around yourself, he finds himself wanting to do it again. 

He wants to be close to you like that again.

It’s not the same as holding your hand. It’s worse. It’s a feeling that sits in his stomach and makes his heart pound. The same feeling of adrenaline and excitement he gets when he wins a game.

He doesn’t know what to do with this feeling.

So he doesn’t move. He just stares. You stare back. Eventually, you lift off of the wall and smile shyly, crouching to grab your bag. He hadn’t even realized you’d dropped it.

You grip the strap so hard your knuckles turn white. He clears his throat.

“I’ll walk you home.” It’s soft, but it echoes loudly in this empty stairwell.

You just nod, following him down the stairs and out the front door.

It takes him ten minutes to gather the courage to hold your hand. You don’t say a word the entire way back.

–

Kageyama graduates, and you become a third year preparing for college applications. Things between you somehow return to normal with little issue, although you’d been expecting some level of awkwardness.

He doesn’t kiss you again or even give you any sign that he wants to. You don’t know what to make of that, but you choose not to push it. You think that he would probably let you kiss him if you wanted to, because he lets you do anything you want. 

But the thought of kissing him when you’re not sure if he wants it or even cares about it – that makes you feel weird.

So you just don’t.

He’d moved to Tokyo in the summer to start training, and you find that, although you miss him immensely, you’re doing just fine here in Miyagi.

You talk every day, and you take the train to see him once a month, staying the weekend in his tiny dorm room and then rushing home to prepare for class on Monday.

You still text him random thoughts about wedding planning, but they’re far fewer than before. Now, you mostly just check that he’s eating and sleeping and that he’s not failing his classes. 

You let yourself be woken up when he calls at 4:30 every day because he has to be out for his morning run by 5 and he knows he won’t be able to stay awake unless he’s talking to you while he gets ready. And then you sit at your desk, studying for your entrance exams and prepping your application materials while the sun rises outside your window.

You make an extra trip to the city whenever he has a game, rushing out of school and racing for the train station like an olympic runner, because every game means the world to him and you would never dream of missing one. And every time he wins, he holds you extra tight at night, excitedly recapping the moments of the game into the crook of your neck as if you hadn’t witnessed every second with your own eyes.

It never occurs to you to tell him about your day anymore. He doesn’t ask, and you don’t think about that enough to be upset by it. His world revolves around volleyball, just like it always had. And your world – your grades, your achievements, your future – had always just been expectations you’d set for yourself. Top of the class, student council president, stellar record. They’re all normal to you. You’d worked hard for them, but you’d never found them to be novel or exciting enough to tell Kageyama.

You just… existed.

And you never realized that maybe your priorities weren’t in the right place. That maybe making Kageyama Tobio your whole personality wasn’t the way it should be. You had slowly stopped doing that, slowly eased yourself off of him, slowly started hanging out with your friends more than you used to.

Nothing could change the way you feel about him – he’s your prince. He’d always been your prince, from the day you’d met. But you’re becoming an adult with a life and a future, and you’d never thought that that was important enough to share with him. Your whole world is still him .

Until it isn’t.

“Have you told Kageyama about your midterm grades yet?” Yachi spoons food into her mouth, eyes sparkling cutely when she asks. “I bet he was so happy for you.”

You tilt your head at her. “Oh, I didn’t think to tell him.” And you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get happy about anything other than volleyball.

Your friend’s expression dampens. “You didn’t tell him? Why?”

“It never came up.”

She looks lost. “But you worked really hard for it… And you got top of the class… You didn’t mention it at all?”

You furrow a brow, pushing food around your bento.

“I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

She hums and then claps as a thought comes to her.

“What about the school festival?” 

You’re in committee meetings for that almost every day. It’s coming in the spring.

She frowns when you just shake your head blankly.

“Y/n, you haven’t told him anything? You even got sick the other day from the stress…”

“I didn’t want to bother him with it.”

She looks entirely unsatisfied. There’s silence, one where you’re eating slowly and trying to figure out what this feeling in the pit of your stomach is. And then she’s clearing her throat softly.

“Does he… ask about you? At all?”

No. He doesn’t.

You swallow. “He’s a busy guy.” 

Now Yachi just looks mad. “And you’re a busy girl! He’s your boyfriend! He should be asking!”

You laugh sheepishly. “He’s never really been that way. It doesn’t bother me.” Right?

“That’s not the point!” She frowns deeply. “What kind of guy doesn’t want to hear about his girlfriend’s day?”

The kind of guy that only asks you out because his friends told him to.

The thought hits you like a truck, and suddenly your lunch tastes like cardboard. You swallow what’s left in your mouth, wincing as it goes down, and cover your container. You don’t feel hungry anymore.

“It’s fine, really.” You smile at her, reassuring her. “I’ll tell him about my day today, okay? I just never thought to do it, that’s all.” 

She scowls, like that should never have been an option, but she lets it go.

You call Kageyama as you walk home later, the sun low in the sky. There had been 3 back to back meetings after school, and you’re rolling your shoulders in exhaustion. You’re already dreading the mountain of homework you have to do when you get home.

He picks up after a few rings.

“ Hey .” 

You can hear the squeak of tennis shoes in the background. He’s at practice.

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you ended at 5.”

“ It’s fine. We stayed longer to prep for the game next week. I’m taking a break .” He sighs. “ I’m still not super satisfied with my jump serves. I get them right 90% of the time, but… ”

He rambles on like that, and you try to push down that lingering feeling from lunch. This is how every day goes. You’re never anything but happy to talk to him. You like hearing him ramble – it calms you down, lets you have a moment of serenity in the chaos of your day.

Now, you’re just wondering why he didn’t ask how you are.

Eventually, you clear your throat, seeing the shadow of your house in the distance.

“Hey, I should probably go – I’m home, and I don’t feel super great today, so…”

“ Oh, okay. Bye. ” He hangs up, and you stand in front of your house, staring down at your phone.

He hadn’t asked why you weren’t feeling good.

You shake your head, heading inside. After your shower, you settle down at your desk with a sigh, switching on the overhead lamp. It’s dark now, and you’re just starting on your work. It’s all due next week, so you decide to take it a little easy because you’re supposed to see Kageyama next weekend and you don’t want to get sick again.

You try one more time with him, sending a quick text.

I’m excited to see you next week <3

You put your phone down, oddly anxious, and open your math textbook. Your phone buzzes beside you, and you reach for it with a rush of nerves.

It’s just a thumbs up.

You stare down at it. 

And then you close your textbook and switch the lamp off. You get into bed and cry into your pillow.

He doesn’t ask why you sound a little down when he calls the next morning at 4:30.

–

You decide to go see him early. You’re supposed to go next weekend, but you’d spent the last two days with a pit of anxiety in your stomach, and you think that maybe if you just see him, you’ll feel better. Reassured.

You get off the train, nothing but your backpack with you. You’d come right after school, but you hadn’t packed an overnight bag because you’d had this idea literally an hour before class had ended.

You make your way to the gym with ease, used to the lay of the campus by now. Kageyama has practice until 5, so you’re right on time to see him.

You stop short when you round the corner, your heart dropping. 

He’s out front with Hinata and his teammates, all chatting excitedly about something from practice.

He’s laughing brightly at something his senior is saying, his eyes screwed up and his arms clutching his sides. Hinata puts him in a headlock with a grin, and he’s fighting back, the two roughhousing on the steps.

You’ve never seen him smile like that before.

Your bottom lip quivers against your will, your eyes filling with unshed tears. You turn to walk away.

This was a bad idea. You’ll just sit at a cafe and wait for the next train home.

“Y/n?”

It’s Hinata, calling out to you from afar. 

You freeze, unable to turn back to them. You can hear the sounds of Kageyama’s teammates as they tease him.

“ Ooh, Kageyama-”

“ -your girlfriend’s here- ”

You blink, wiping furiously at the tears that finally slide down your cheeks. And then you swallow and turn back to them, seeing that Kageyama and Hinata are jogging to meet you where you are.

“Hi…”

“What are you doing here?” Tobio tilts his head at you, confused. “I thought you were coming next week. And-” He looks you up and down, a brow furrowed. “-where’s your bag?”

You’re not sure what to say to any of it.

I wanted to see you .

That would have been fine before. Now you just feel clingy.

I had a bad day. I missed you .

He won’t care. He won’t ask. He’ll just accept that.

Hinata leans toward you a bit, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

Tobio looks at his friend, blinking in surprise, and then down at you.

“What happened? Why are you sad?”

You try not to let it show when your heart cracks a little.

He’d only noticed because Hinata had.

“Uh-I’m fine.” You watch him closely, watch him accept your answer at face value with a nod. Watch Hinata lean away, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You wonder why your friends can see right through you but your own boyfriend can’t.

“Could we maybe get dinner…?”

Kageyama looks back at his teammates, frowning. You wonder where that bright smile had gone and why it had left when he’d seen you.

“The team was supposed to get dinner today…”

Your heart doesn’t even drop anymore. You’d expected it, the rejection. 

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just meet with you later.” You smile, starting to pull your phone out so you can look up some nearby restaurants. You’d shown up unannounced, anyway. Kageyama hadn’t expected to fit you into his schedule today.

Hinata nudges him hard with his elbow.

“Dude, your girlfriend came all this way to get dinner with you. You can just come along next time.”

Tobio turns to him, and then to you. He blinks.

“Oh. Okay.”

That word feels like a knife through the heart.

–

You sit silently across from him at the ramen shop, listening to him talk about the upcoming game.

“-maybe if I can just get there a little faster, I could probably-”

“Tobio…”

Kageyama freezes, noodles halfway to his mouth. You almost never say his name. It’s always Kags, or his full last name.

He looks down at you, eyes skimming over you quickly. You won’t meet his eyes, and your hand is trembling just a little. You’ve barely touched your food, and you’ve looked upset for a while now. He hasn’t wanted to push, because you always tell him when something’s up, but…

You put your chopsticks down and take a deep breath. Smile up at him. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

…he’s worried.

“I got top of the class on all my midterms.”

He blinks.

“Oh. Okay. Nice.”

Your brow furrows for just a moment before you fix your expression. 

Something’s not right.

“And I’m organizing the school festival this year…” You bite your lip and look out the window. “It would mean a lot if you could come…”

He puts his chopsticks down and reaches for his phone right away.

“Okay. When?” He opens his calendar and looks up at you expectantly.

You just stare, your eyes full of an emotion he’s never seen before. And then you whisper to him.

“Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend?”

Tobio stares. Locks his phone and puts it down without breaking eye contact. Stares some more.

He’s confused. 

“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do…”

You don’t think you can do this.

There are tears filling your eyes. Your voice cracks when you respond.

“Then I think we should break up.”

He just stares. 

What? Where is this coming from? What are you talking about? You’re supposed to date and then get married. Breaking up isn’t in the plan. 

At all.

“Oh.”

You flinch and look away. ‘ Oh ’. That’s it.

“Why?” He looks serious when he asks, like he might actually be worried about this. You’re not really sure you’ve ever seen him worry about you.

“Because I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t want to marry me.” You smile bitterly up at him. “Because I never asked you what you wanted. I just decided what we would do.”

You’re having trouble breathing. You feel selfish and guilty. You’d decided what his life would look like, and he’d gone along with it because he’d had no complaints about the choice. He’d done everything right, exactly how you wanted him to. Exactly how he was supposed to.

“Because I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you wanted something different out of your life. Or for you to meet someone else and realize that you should have married for love, not obligation.”

He shakes his head, face blank. “That wouldn’t happen.”

You smile sadly. “You haven’t asked me about myself for as long as I can remember.”

He frowns. “I figured you would just tell me the things that were important.”

“And I figured you wouldn’t care because you never asked.”

Kageyama’s heart feels a bit strange. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It upsets him to see you unhappy.

“Oh.” 

“You don’t really know what I’ve been up to. And you don’t know how I’ve changed since you left. You don’t ask. And that’s okay.” You hold eye contact, willing yourself not to cry. “But can you really say that you’re marrying me because you love me?”

He just stares. You stare back. And then you make up your mind.

“Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.”

He doesn’t react. All he says is–

“Okay.”

–

It’s been four days.

In those four days, Kageyama Tobio has learned several things about himself.

First, that he’s entirely incapable of getting out of bed on his own. He oversleeps three of the four days and misses his morning runs, barely rolling out of bed in time to get ready for class. The fourth day, he only wakes up on time because he’d put his phone on the bathroom sink the night before so that he’s forced to get up when his alarm goes off.

Second, that the days go by in a blur. He doesn’t remember eating breakfast, and he’s certain he doesn’t go to the cafeteria for lunch like he usually does. He subsists on the protein bars he keeps in his bag, and he only remembers dinner because, by the time practice is over, he’s so hungry that he’s stealing food from Hinata’s bag, too.

The third thing is that he’s messes up at practice in things that he had perfected years ago. He screws up during drills, he somehow is off-tempo during warm-ups, and – most importantly – he’s snapping at his teammates. The stress gets to him on day three, to the point that he’s running drills by himself and pushing his own limits every time he forgets even the smallest thing. When that doesn’t work, he’s yelling at Hinata and then blaming a senior for moving too slow during a set.

He hadn’t done that since high school.

“Dude-” Hinata approaches him after practice on day four. It’s Monday, and they have a game on Friday. Tensions are already high, and he knows well enough that he’s making things worse. “-what is with you lately?”

“ What ?” Kageyama shoots him a glare, one that has Hinata’s eyebrows flying up, because his best friend hasn’t looked at him like that since their first year at Karasuno.

He doubles down, keeping up easily with Kageyama’s long legs when the setter storms out of the gym. “What’s your problem? No one asked the King to make a special guest appearance.”

Kageyama turns so fast to face him that he skids to a stop, bumping into him. And then his shirt is being balled up in Tobio’s fist, and he’s being dragged onto his tiptoes and into Kageyama’s face.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Hinata breathes out a sigh, recognizing the frustration in Kageyama’s eyes.

“Why are you snapping at everyone? You’ve been in a mood since Friday.”

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Did you get dumped or something?” Shouyou knows he’s right when Kageyama’s glare and furrowed brow turn into a blank slate. He’s realizing something. “Oh, my God, you did. You got dumped.”

Kageyama drops him back down, releasing him. He blinks.

“I mean… Yeah, I did. But so what?”

Hinata looks at him like he’s crazy.

“What do you mean, so what ? You’re upset!”

Kageyama only swallows. He knows he’s upset. He was upset all of Friday, after you left him sitting there in that ramen shop, claiming you needed to catch the last train home.

But has he been upset enough to disrupt his days this much?

“I…”

“You’ve been oversleeping and barely making it to class.” 

That’s true. 

“You’ve been skipping meals, which is probably why you’ve been crabby and fucking up during practice. You haven’t been eating enough.”

That’s also true. That makes sense.

“And you’ve been distracted.”

Kageyama blinks down at him.

Hinata sighs. “You’ve been checking your phone constantly, dude. You never look up from it anymore.” He points up at the man with renewed frustration. “You almost got hit by that biker when we were crossing the street on Saturday!”

That… had happened. He remembers, barely. That he’d only looked up because Hinata had yanked on the back of his hoodie, that the student on that bike had yelled at him as he’d passed them by.

That he’d been checking his phone, wondering why it had been so silent all day.

“What are you waiting for, Kageyama?”

For her to text me .

“She usually texts me… about eating and… and wedding stuff.” There’s dread in his stomach, and his nerves are twisting painfully in his chest.

Hinata sighs dejectedly, running a hand through his hair.

“What wedding, Kageyama? She broke up with you.”

‘ What wedding, Kageyama?’

Oh.

If you broke up with him, then… Then there’s no dating, and that means no wedding.

Right.

Kageyama scowls at his short friend.

No.

No, he doesn’t like this.

–

He’s waiting for you at the Karasuno gates on Tuesday afternoon. You spot him as you’re walking out of the building with Yachi. You’d spent the weekend crying in your bed, and you’d decided on Monday – after you’d opened your wallet and promptly started sobbing, because you’d had the other photo booth strip from the amusement park in there –  that you had to get yourself together.

Yachi links her arm through yours and pulls you back when you walk out of school, because she’d noticed him first. You look up, freezing when you see him lingering there. He’s out of place without a uniform, and he’s pacing back and forth in the corner, running his fingers through his hair.

What is he doing here?

You meet Yachi’s eyes anxiously, and the two of you walk to meet him. He looks up when you get close, eyes widening when he sees you. He takes a breath. You think he looks nervous.

“Can you un-dump me, please?”

Your lips part in surprise. Yachi slips her arm out of yours and walks away without a word, realizing that this is probably not something she should be present for.

You stare up at him.

“What?”

He scratches his neck. “This really sucks, Y/n. Can we date again? Please?”

“I-Kageyama-” You look around, wondering if he’s really doing this here. “Can we at least go somewhere else?”

He just blinks. “Okay.” 

You try not to sigh. You hadn’t missed that word.

You lead him past the school grounds, crossing the street and toward the park that’s nearby. There’s no one around, and you take a seat at one of the benches. He sits next to you, silent. And then he turns to you.

“So…”

“I don’t think we should get back together.” You stare down at your hands when you say it.

He shifts to face you, huffing under his breath. “Why not?”

“What’s changed, Kageyama? In the last four days, what’s changed that would make things better this time?” You run a hand through your hair. “Because, from where I’m sitting, everything’s the same.”

“Then sit closer.” He pats the empty space between you for emphasis. 

You sigh, growing frustrated.

“You don’t get it-”

“No, I don’t get it.” He cuts you off, angry. You’ve never seen him get upset with you before. “I don’t get it , Y/n. I thought we were fine. I thought I did everything I was supposed to-”

“Yeah, you did!” You stand, facing him. He stands, too, his chest heaving as he breathes harshly. “You did everything you were supposed to, Tobio. Because Hinata told you to. Because Tsukki and Yamaguchi told you to. You did everything they told you to do.”

“So what ? They were helping me figure out how to be a good boyfriend-”

“Did you even want to be my boyfriend?” You throw your hands up, annoyed. “Did you want to do those things ?”

He looks lost. Lost and frustrated that he’s lost. “Does it matter ? I was fine doing them, and they were things you wanted, and I didn’t mind-”

You fist the front of his hoodie, shaking him. Your eyes are filling with tears. “ It matters, Kageyama!” You drop your forehead to his chest, your breath shaky. “It matters . Those things mean nothing if you don’t want to do them yourself.”

You lift away from him, stepping back and covering your face with your hands. “I thought that if you didn’t have any complaints about the things I wanted, then that meant that everything was fine-”

“Everything was fine.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to explain this to him. “ I asked you out. I kissed you first. I did those things-”

“ Because they told you to! ” You bury your hands in your hair. It feels like you’re going insane, saying the same things over and over again. “They didn’t ask if you wanted to . They told you to.” You breathe deeply. “ I didn’t ask if you wanted to.” You drop your hands, sighing. “I just told you to.”

“And then you didn’t ask when you left me!” He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, frustrated. “You just decided that what we had planned on doing was no longer the plan. You didn’t ask.”

You stare at him, processing. Realizing.

You thought you’d done wrong by pulling him in and keeping him close. So you let him go. 

But that had been wrong, too.

“I’m sorry.” You can’t tell if your apology reaches him. He’s just glaring down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Tobio. I felt guilty that I had forced you into this relationship and this future with me, and then I realized that I had made you my whole life without ever considering you.”

He meets your eyes. He’s listening.

“And then I saw that you weren’t interested in me or what’s happening in my life. You weren’t asking about my day or asking why I was tired or seeing when I was in pain. And I thought that meant that you were just going along with my plans for our future without ever thinking about if that’s what you even wanted for yourself. And that hurt, so much.”

Kageyama knows what you’re telling him. He’d been thinking about what you’d said on Friday, your words on repeat in the back of his head through the entire weekend.

‘Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.’

But he had never felt that you had forced him into this. He’d never felt that he might want something else. Even when he was just going along with your ideas because he couldn’t care less, there were no ill feelings. He’d been making you happy your whole lives, without even trying. All he’d ever had to do was be there, and you were happy.

You were never upset around him, never upset because of him. 

So he didn’t know how much he hated it until it had happened.

He had never considered that you might ever need more than that from him. That you might need him to make this an equal-efforts relationship.

“Ask me.”

You just blink up at him, confused. He swallows.

“Ask me what I want.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you’re inhaling nervously.

“What do you want, Kageyama?”

“I want-” He takes a step toward you, and then another. “-you to be where you’ve always been.” He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to come close to him, right in front on him. “Right here, Y/n. I want you right here .”

You tilt your head back to really look at him, your eyes wide. He’s meeting your gaze evenly. “I need you next to me , Y/n. I cannot function if you’re not.”

You’re confused. And extremely nervous.

“What?”

He tightens his hold on you. “I have not been doing anything right the last few days. I don’t wake up on time. I don’t eat . I am fucking everything up at practice.”

“Kageyama-”

“I keep checking my phone, waiting for you-I almost got run over on Saturday because I wasn’t paying attention-”

“What?! Kageya-”

“I miss you , Y/n.” Do you understand what he’s saying? Is he being clear enough? “I’m useless without you.” 

Butterflies swirl in your stomach, but you still furrow a brow, protesting weakly.

“I’m not your mother, Tobio… I can’t keep doing everything for you-”

“Oh, my-” He releases you, stepping away and running a hand over his face. “Okay, fine! Yes-” He looks at you, exasperated. “I will work on that. I will work on being-I don’t know-” He’s fumbling for his words, trying to figure out what he should say. What’s right. 

“-I will work on myself, okay? But-” He sighs. “-don’t break up with me. Please. Can’t I work on those things with you still here with me?”

You just stare. You’ve never seen this. You didn’t know this side of him existed. This person who is flustered and frustrated and lost. This person who is trying to communicate with you but is struggling.

He looks around, thinking hard. He rubs a finger over his brow, scowling. And then he tries again.

“Okay. When I asked you out, I was really nervous. And you had never made me nervous before. And when we went on our first date, I thought that you looked really pretty when I picked you up, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

You blink. What is he doing?

He starts pacing.

“And when I held your hand on the walk to the movie, I kept wondering if my hand was sweaty and if you could feel it. And I really liked that cafe you wanted to go to the week after, because they had that banana milk latte thing and I thought that was good. And you looked really happy with the cake I bought you, and I thought it was weird that I noticed that part specifically, because you always look happy.”

He scratches his forehead. Is he doing this right? If he’s just completely honest about everything, that would be progress, right?

“And when we went to the amusement park, you wanted me to buy you the cat ear headband, but I thought you looked really cute in the bunny ears. That’s why I bought you both.”

You didn’t know that. He never told you.

“And I look at the pictures from the photo booth thing all the time, but definitely after a bad day at practice. Because you look funny, but also because after I snorted out that milk, you laughed so hard that you cried, and I can never forget that. It makes me smile to think about it.”

He stops pacing. Turns to face you.

“And when I kissed you that day. On the stairs.” 

You flush, your ears already warm and your heart already thrumming nervously in your chest from everything he’s been saying. He sighs, shaking his head.

“I wanted to kiss you again. I should have kissed you again. Because the guys, they did tell me to kiss you. That’s why I did it.” He steps toward you, swallowing hard. “But I wanted to kiss you again. I wanted to. I didn’t, because I was nervous and I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t feel my fingers. And every time after that, when I wanted to kiss you, I would start to feel that way again. And I didn’t know what to do with that, so I just wouldn’t kiss you.”

He feels it now. His fingers are numb, and his heart is beating in his ears. And his stomach kind of hurts, and he’s terrified that this still isn’t enough. He’s terrified that your silence means that he’s not doing this right.

“I would have liked that.” You purse your lips when he blinks at you in surprise. “If you had kissed me again. I would have liked that.”

He sighs in relief and looks away, putting a hand on his stomach and clutching at his hoodie, scrunching the material. He nods, his eyes shut when he responds.

“Yeah. I would have liked it, too.”

And then he looks at you, eyes examining your expression. 

“Y/n, I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do this. I’m bad at everything that’s not volleyball-” He cuts off to roll his eyes. “Well, now I’m bad at volleyball, too. But that’s not-” 

He sighs.

“I don’t know how to make you happy without you telling me, and I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend because I don’t know what that means . I don’t know if what I feel is love because I don’t know what that feels like, and I’m convinced that all the rom-coms the guys made me watch were full of shit.”

You don’t even want to know what that means.

“But I know now that I should try harder. That I should ask you about your day, and that I should talk less about me and more about you, and that this -” He points between the two of you. “-shouldn’t just be you doing everything.”

He steps toward you. “So I’m going to do those things. Not because you told me to and I’m just following along, but because you told me what makes you happy, and I want to make you happy.”

You can only stare, your breath shallow and shaky. He closes the distance, and then, after a beat, reaches hesitantly for your hand. You let him take it. He meets your eyes nervously.

“Can you say something, please?”

You look at him for a moment longer, and then you smile.

“Okay.”

He rolls his eyes.

You lace your fingers through his. He watches the movement, swallowing.

“I like when you do that. It makes me happy.”

Your face starts to warm. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll work on that.”

You nod slowly, thinking. “I’ll work on… growing up, I guess. Being an independent person. Becoming successful on my own, just like you.” You smile softly up at him. He just quirks an eyebrow.

“You already are. Your grades, and your student council stuff…”

You lean forward, planting your forehead on his chest. “You’re a nationally scouted volleyball player, and you think me having good grades makes me successful?”

He puts his free hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I think I’m failing two of my classes.”

He smiles when you snort into his shirt. And then he chews on his lip, thinking.

“So… am I un-dumped?” 

You laugh, letting go of his hand so you can wrap both arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Yes, Kags. You’re un-dumped.”

His heart swells, just a little.

“And the wedding?”

You think about it. Your fairytale wedding, with the prince of your dreams. The prince, who is flawed. And you, also flawed. And the fairytale, which apparently needs a lot of work.

“We’ll see.”

You feel him huff. “But you promised me goats.”

You look up, surprised. You hadn’t brought that up since middle school. “I thought you said no.”

He pouts, sheepish. “That’s because I’m pretty sure animals don’t like me very much.”

You can’t help the smile that’s growing on your face. He looks down at you, his fingers still tangled in your hair. And then he leans down, using those fingers to angle your head so he can drop his lips to yours without a word.

You feel his grip tighten nervously, and you raise onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, wanting to keep feeling this nervous. Wanting to stay like this forever.

Eventually, he pulls away, but only enough to whisper to you, his lips still against yours.

“ Will you still come to my game on Friday ?” He smiles wide when you snort and nod. “ And you’ll stay with me? The whole weekend? ”

You whisper back. “ If you want me to. ”

He just kisses you again.

–

Things are different now. Even though those four days had been a blip in the radar of your lives – which haven’t changed very much – things are different because of them. Kageyama becomes a boyfriend in more than just title alone.

He sends you awkward pictures of himself at the cafeteria, showing you that he eats without you needing to remind him. He still calls at 4:30 for his morning runs, but he tells you within a few minutes that you should go back to sleep, that he can get ready even if you’re snoring on the other end, because he doesn’t want you working so early in the morning. And then he calls after practice to ask about your day, about your student council meetings, about your college applications. He asks more questions as you talk, because he wants to know more about you.

He wants to keep knowing more about you, with every part of you that changes.

He comes home for Christmas, sitting through your joint family dinner with that blank stare but with his hand firmly nestled in yours, his arms reaching after you anytime you move to do something that would separate you. And then he takes you to see the Christmas lights in town, buying you anything that catches his eye and pulling you in for a kiss under every mistletoe he sees, because there’s nothing he likes more than a free excuse to kiss you. He comes back for the school festival, even though he has a game the next day, because he know it means everything to you that he’s there. And he wants to support you the way you support him.

He slowly stops looking to you for what he should be doing as your boyfriend. He starts relying on himself, because he knows now that it’s okay if he doesn’t know everything. He just does what he wants whenever he wants to, because more often than not, it ends up being something that makes you happy.

You graduate in the spring and follow him to Tokyo after being admitted into their Chemistry program. It’s nerve-wracking, leaving home like that, but you know it’s for the best that you do. You even fight Kageyama when he tries to get you to move in with him right away.

‘ We’re going to live together forever anyway’ , he says when you tell him you decided to be assigned to a dorm instead. You tell him that that’s exactly why you should live apart now. You have forever.

You’re terrified on your first day of the program, but those fears fade away and are replaced with relief and gratitude, because Kuroo Tetsurou is waiting for you outside, already a fourth year in the same major. He takes you under his wing, introducing you to your new seniors and giving you advice about which classes to take and which professors to avoid.

You make friends with the people in your year, and you hang out with Kuroo whenever you can, because he treats you like an adult, asking for your thoughts on his thesis and giving you opportunities to network with the right people but never doing it for you. Because it’s your future, so you’re the one that has to work for it.

You and Kageyama get into fights now. There are days when he clearly isn’t listening, when he needs to be told multiple times to do something like his laundry or writing that email to that professor about that missing assignment. He asks you multiple times to remind him, and you tell him you’re not his mother and that he’s an adult, for fuck’s sake. He always grumbles when you say it, but he never needs telling twice after that.

And on the days when you feel insecure, when you worry that you’re telling him too often what you want and not giving him enough freedom to act on his own, you close off. You stop communicating, because you forget that the whole reason you feel guilty is because you’re worried he’s not communicating. He’s never gentle with you on those days, because he doesn’t know how to be. He just snaps at you, warning you that you better not get trapped in your destructive cycle, that you just need to talk to him because he’s not a mind reader. You always end up spilling your guts to him afterward, crying like a baby because of the guilt and also because you’re mad that he yelled at you. But you’re still glad that he had.

Those days when you fight are always hard, but they feel real. They feel like a relationship created by people who try for each other because they care about each other. Kageyama slowly becomes a self-sufficient adult who learns to read you better than anyone else, and you slowly let go of the anxiety that had filled you for those first few months after getting back together.

Before you even realize it, two years have gone by and you’re moving into your new apartment for the start of the semester. Kageyama is graduating this year, and he’s still unhappy that you won’t move in with him, even now, but he leaves you to your decisions, because they’re yours.

You both make passing comments about marriage, but you never feel the need anymore to think about it the way you used to. You’d found your notebook from middle school – the one with the hearts around his name – while on a trip home, and you’d almost burned the thing in embarrassment.

Marriage is no longer the fairytale wedding you’d constantly dreamed of, to the prince who could do no wrong. Now, it’s just an expected next step in your relationship, to the man of your dreams – because you’ve always loved him, and you find new ways to fall for him all the time – but there are definitely days when you want to smack him with whatever you have on hand.

Despite that, though, he’s still your prince from the sandbox. That part would never change.

Things are good.

–

“ So, Hinata asked me how far we’ve gone again .”

You sigh out deeply through your nose when you hear that.

You’re in an otherwise empty lab, just after 7pm. Your studies had gone extremely well, and you’re on track to receive Honors, but unfortunately, that had come with the added responsibility of a rather rigorous independent study project. Your third year began with a pile of journal articles and the keys to your advisor’s lab, which you now use after working hours in order to develop your thesis.

You’re prepping materials for another round of experiments that you’ll run starting tomorrow, when Kageyama calls. You’ve got your headphones in, phone in your back pocket as you run around the room organizing. You can tell by the background noise that he’s riding his bike.

“You know, he is awfully interested in our physical relationship. What does he want, a threesome or something?” There’s a long pause after you say that, one where you can feel his desire to pick a fight. “I’m guessing you didn’t find that funny.”

“ Oh, could you tell? I was trying to figure out how to make my silence angrier .”

Ever since he’d picked up the concept of sarcasm from Hinata, you often have to wonder if that’s what he’s doing or if he’s still just being blunt.

“So what did you end up telling him?” You pull a blank chart from the drawer at your desk and open your laptop to check your notes. You have to document which chemicals you plan on using so you can file the report for clearance.

“That we fuck like bunnies and often in public.”

That was certainly sarcasm.

“You’re funny.”

“He thought so, too.”

Apparently, it was not sarcasm.

You look up from your work, staring out the window in disbelief. “You actually told him that?! ”

He laughs on the other end.

“Well, he didn’t believe me anyway, so–”

“You are so annoying, Kageyama-”

“ I work hard at it .”

You just shake your head, a laugh leaving you. “So? What did he end up telling you that you need to do?”

Kageyama sighs on the other end. “ I knew you would say that .” 

He’d stopped listening blindly to the words of his high school friend group. Hinata asks every few months about your relationship because he’s painfully nosy, and Tsukishima continues to insist that it’s actually because Kageyama is a specimen worth scientific analysis and that it’s shocking that he’d managed to get you back and keep you.

Yamaguchi is the only helpful one and therefore the only one that you meet up regularly with for coffee.

Rather than just doing whatever it is that Hinata thinks you two should be doing, however, Kageyama always brings it to you, asking if you think that’s true or if he should kick his friend’s ass. Most times, it’s the latter.

This time, Kageyama surprises you.

“ He didn’t suggest anything. I didn’t give him anything for him to go off of.”

You hum with interest. “Why?”

“ Because we kiss, and we hold hands, and we spend the night at each other’s houses, and there was that one time we both drank too much and then you jumped me as soon as we were alone- ”

“Oh, my God.” You groan under your breath, wishing he would let that go already. You were drunk and he was particularly pretty that night. And, if you remember correctly – and you do – he had wasted no time slipping his hands under your shirt when you’d started kissing him, so it wasn’t exactly one-sided.

“ -so I guess there was just nothing to tell him. The only thing he would really tell me anyway is that we should have sex, but I think if he’d said that to me, I would have thrown him out a window, so… ”

You flush but say nothing, only offering him a hum of acknowledgment. You two still haven’t gone that far, because Kageyama isn’t ready.

‘It’s one thing to learn to be a good boyfriend,’ He’d said. ‘ But I feel like, if I don’t do this right, I could hurt you. If I’m not good at knowing how to treat you – if I’m selfish with this, even on accident – then something bad would happen between us. ’

You had completely understood, and you’d just thanked him for being honest with you about it. It was back when you’d first started college, back when he still couldn’t read you the way he can now. It wasn’t priority for you, not enough to feel neglected and never enough to pressure him about it.

You had both still been kids back then. You weren’t ready either, to be honest. So it had just never come up again.

Even just a few months ago, on that night when you’d both gotten drunk and ended up in his bed, his hands fumbling for places he’d never been brave enough to go while sober, you had woken up to a guilty look on his face. He’d apologized so earnestly, terrified he’d gone too far, that he hadn’t done it right. It had taken you almost an hour to bring him down, assuring him that you’d had fun and that absolutely nothing was wrong.

You’d known then that even though he can read you perfectly now, sometimes better than you realize, he’s still worried about it. But it’s not like you’re in any rush to get there. You’re both extremely busy, and you barely have time to see each other outside of Friday and Saturday nights, which you’d both decided would be the time when no one else was allowed to contact you.

Just you and him on your couch with bad takeout, your phones lying forgotten in the kitchen. No teammates, no emails from your advisor, nothing.

It’s your favorite part of the week, and you know it’s his, too, because he always gets extremely affectionate on those two nights, his hands lingering on your skin and his lips on yours any chance he gets. That’s as far as he ever goes, and you’re more than happy with that. His attention, his time, his love – it’s all more than enough.

“ -guess I was kind of thinking about it, though… Or… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking for a few months… since that night… I don’t know.”

You have an inkling of what he’s talking about, your nerves suddenly on edge as you stop writing, giving him your full attention. You twirl your pen around your fingers, leaning back in your chair and putting your work aside.

“Thinking about…?”

There’s nothing but the sound of wind in your ears for a moment. It doesn’t sound like he’s in traffic anymore, which means he’s on campus. He must be close by.

“ I don’t know… I kind of feel like I might be ready…?”

You freeze, wondering if you’d heard correctly, and your phone slips and falls out of your back pocket in that stretch of silence. It clatters to the floor loudly, and you know Kageyama hears it on the other end, his voice judgmental in your headphones.

“ Hey. Alive and unharmed, please. I don’t ask for much .” 

You laugh nervously and shake your head, reaching down for your phone. That’s the first thing he’d said when he’d learned that you’d be spending 20 hours a week locked in a chemistry lab this year.

‘Try your best to stay alive and unharmed, okay?’

He’d had no idea that the chemicals are all safety locked, because of course he wouldn’t, so he thinks you’re just in a room surrounded by shelves of corrosive liquids all day.

“What, you gonna cancel the wedding if your girlfriend gets a really awful, face-altering chemical burn? That’s low, Kageyama.” You joke, checking your phone for scratches and then setting it on your desk. He jokes back with ease, his social skills having improved so much over the last few years that he can even go toe to toe with Tsukishima when he’s feeling particularly sarcastic.

“ No, I’m gonna cancel the wedding if my girlfriend manages to blow herself up, because that’s just embarrassing .” You laugh again, louder when he adds, “ -a national volleyball champion marrying someone who trips over her own feet? Pass. ”

“ Wow -” You throw your head back, your laugh echoing in the empty room. “You’ve gotten meaner over the last few years-”

“ Yeah, well, you grew up and became a mini Kuroo, which might be worse .”

You snort, letting a semi-comfortable silence settle between you as you think about what he’d said. That he might be ready. The thought of taking that step with him had always given you a little rush of butterflies, but they’d been easy enough to put in a box for another time.

Now… your hands are starting to sweat and your stomach is flipping.

You hear his bike start to slow, the wind less harsh in the mic of his headphones. He sighs quietly. 

“ Almost done with work? ”

You survey your desk. You’d gotten enough done to call it a day.

“I suppose I could schedule you in.”

“ Funny. Get down here .” He cuts the call without another word.

You grin, packing up and checking that the lab is in order as you’re heading out.

Kageyama’s sitting on a bench outside, bouncing his knee while he waits for you. He stands when he sees you, eyes a little wary.

“Hey…”

You smile wide as you run to meet him. He looks nervous. Probably because you hadn’t said anything when he’d told you he’s ready.

You can fix that.

You reach for his hoodie when you’re close, fisting the material in your hand and dragging him down to meet you. You plant your lips on his, stepping up onto your tiptoes to make things easier.

“ You sure that’s what you want? ” You whisper against his mouth, feeling the way he smiles when he hears it. 

He doesn’t answer, just taking your face in his hands and pushing his lips harder against yours.

“ Let’s go home .”

–

It doesn’t happen that night. 

You sit together on the couch in your apartment after dinner, but he must be more tired than he’d realized, because he’s asleep, head in your lap, less than ten minutes later. You just smile down at him, carding your fingers through his hair and scratching softly at his scalp for a few minutes. He eventually mumbles under his breath at the feeling, turning and burying his face in your stomach.

His quiet words, muffled in your shirt, reach you in the comfortable silence of your apartment.

“ Love you… ”

Your heart skips. He’s said it before, in the darkness of his bedroom with you wrapped in his arms. At the end of a phone call while he’s abroad for a game. In the middle of a fight, said with frustration and your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, because even when you’re not listening to him – even when he has to grab your face and make you look at him just to get you to focus on him – he still loves you.

And now this, when he’s asleep and has no idea what he’s just said. When he has no control over his thoughts and the way they take form on his tongue. When he can still feel you here with him, even when he’s not here at all.

He says it then, and you can finally see just how deep those words run for him. How engrained they are in his soul, just as they are in yours.

You fall asleep like that, fingers tangled in his hair and his words fresh in your memory.

–

You wake the next morning to the sound of rustling, the bed dipping next to you. It must be early, the sky outside your window still a bit dark. Had he carried you here?

“ Kags… ?” 

He says nothing, but there’s more shifting and then something’s hitting the mattress beside you lightly. You skim your hand along the sheet until you find it, your eyes still closed. It’s soft, and when you bring it to your face, you realize it’s his t-shirt, still warm with his body heat. 

You drape the thing over your face with a gentle smile, breathing in his scent and trying your best not to be soothed back to sleep by it.

And then you feel a hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping under your shirt and pushing it up along your ribs. His mouth is warm on the newly exposed skin.

“‘m sorry I fell asleep…”

Your stomach flips when you realize what’s happening, and you’re suddenly wide awake. His mouth lifts off just enough that he can whisper to you, his bottom lip dragging along your skin as he moves up your torso.

“ I wanted it to be last night… ”

Your fingers start to go numb when he makes eyes contact with you, his gaze darkened with something you’ve never seen before. He climbs on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his elbows and dipping his head so he can attach his mouth to your neck, his lips hot on your skin.

You tilt your head to the side, mostly to give him better access, but also so that you can see the time flashing back at you from the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s almost 6am.

“D-Don’t you have practice…?” It’s Saturday morning, which means practice is early, because there are no classes.

“It was cancelled.” He nips at your earlobe, and you feel him breathe a laugh into your ear when you shiver.

“I feel like you’re lying.” They have a game in two weeks. There’s no way it was cancelled. 

He just hums into your skin, nibbling on a spot under your ear and finding your hand with his, lacing your fingers together on the pillow. “They can survive a day without me. I have something more important to do.”

You can’t help the sigh that leaves you when he shifts between your legs, nudging your thighs apart so he can lay his body between them.

“And w-what would that be?” Your body feels warm, your head hot and fuzzy. You can’t focus on anything except the way his lips feel against your skin, the way he’s pressing his hips against yours, half-hard already.

“ Have to apologize to my girlfriend for making her wait .” He mumbles it against your throat, his tongue peeking out and swiping gently at your pulse point. Your thighs flex around his hips as a reflex, and he’s grinding down shallowly into you unconsciously. Your free hand trembles as you grip at his bicep.

“Wasn’t waiting… It’s okay…” You try to shake your head for emphasis, to show him that you don’t feel neglected, but your head is so heavy and foggy that you’re not really sure how successful you are. “‘s no rush…”

“No?” His lips move down your skin, hand leaving yours as he travels down to the collar of your shirt and then disappears, his mouth finding that exposed skin of your stomach again. His fingers dance along your ribs and under your shirt, stopping just under the swell of your breasts. “But I’m in a rush.”

“Huh?” You barely lift your head off the pillow, meeting his eyes shallowly. He just grins, kissing down your navel and bringing his hands down so he can tug carefully at the waistband of your shorts. He buries his face there, kissing along the marks your shorts left on you and nipping at your hip bones. His mouth starts to water as he thinks of all the skin he hasn’t touched yet. Claimed yet.

He plans to change that.

“ You’re not in a rush, but-” He leaves your navel alone, sliding down easily and pushing his hands against the hem of your shorts so he can have more access to you. So he can be closer.

He wraps his hands around your thighs, mouth finding your inner thigh easily. You’re warm, soft. His grip on you tightens.

“-now that I know what I want, and how much I want it, I want it now.” He meets your eyes, your own wide and nervous. Your thighs tremble just slightly under his touch. “So I’m in a rush. That okay?”

You just nod, your head falling back against the pillow as you breathe out an unsteady ‘ Okay… ’. You can’t help but jump when his tongue laps against your thigh, and then his voice is reaching your ears, a whisper of your name. You just hum unsteadily to let him know you’re listening.

“ I’m going to need your help… ” He just hold your thighs tight when you lift your head to look at him. “ I can’t do this without you .”

Your stomach flips at how innocently he’s looking at you, despite being in such a compromising place. It never fails to affect you, when he’s so blunt about the fact that he needs you. For a man with a face so neutral, a stare so empty, he’d always been vocal about wanting you by his side, ever since that confession in the park all those years ago.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.

“ Okay… I’m here… ”

He breathes a sigh of relief, pressing his lips to your thigh one more time before letting you go, climbing over you again so he can push his mouth against yours.

His fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, and, with a nod from you at his curious tug, he pulls the thing up and over your head in one motion. You fall back against the bed, fisting the sheets in your hands as you lie there under him, chest exposed for the first time. 

He stares down at you, settling back on his knees and letting your shirt slip from his fingers and onto the floor without even realizing. He just stares, lips parted as his eyes dart between your breasts and up to your face.

“I…”

You cave when he trails off, finally bringing your arms up to your chest and hiding yourself, your face burning. Kageyama’s eyes widen, gaze flying up to meet yours firmly.

“What? What happened?” His fingers hover nervously over your arms while he watches you. “What did I do?”

You just shake your head, your ears ringing as you start to feel warm all over. “Nothing, I just… got nervous… that you wouldn’t like them…”

You watch his face, previously so vulnerable and scared that he’d screwed up, fall into a perfect deadpan. 

You know that face.

With a click of his tongue, he closes his fingers around your wrists and pulls them off of your chest, pinning them above your head.

“Stop being annoying.”

You scoff, not even slightly offended but still shocked he’d switched up on you like that.

“What the hell-”

“ Smartest fucking girl I know -” He’s mumbling to himself as he presses your wrists down into the pillow. He leans back onto his heels with a shake of his head. “- and you can still be so stupid sometimes .”

“Kag-” You jolt, cutting off, because he’s sliding his fingers up along your ribs and enveloping both of your breasts in his hands at the same time. He’d felt them over your bra before, that night that he’d gotten extra handsy, but to look down and see the way he’s got both hands cupping them, kneading gently with an excited glint in his eye – it makes you realize that you have nothing to be worried about.

Not with him.

“Can I…” He glances up at you, swallowing quickly. “Can I do what I want?”

Your stomach drops, heat building in your navel at the way he’s asking you to let him have his way.

“Yeah… Whatever you want…” You nod, and then your eyes widen, because he’s dropping his hands from your chest to your waist again, fingers hooking into your shorts. You meet his anxious glance with one of your own, but you lift your hips and let him undress you, let him explore. Let him get to know you better, because he’s always saying that that’s what he wants more than anything else.

Kageyama drops your shorts and panties to ground with your shirt, and then he’s hooking both hands behind your thighs and prying them open, letting them drape over his own. You inhale sharply at being so suddenly exposed, and your hands fly down instinctively to cover yourself, but they’re caught easily in his hold.

He sends you one withering look, daring you to try again, but he holds your wrists with the utmost care, feeling your fingers wrap nervously around his own as he stares down at you.

“You’re really pretty… You sure this is all mine?” He can’t take his eyes off of you, not even when your hips shift nervously under the weight of his stare. You whine his name, feeling vulnerable like this.

“I thought there was something you wanted to do…”

He doesn’t bother to look up at you when he responds. “I’m doing it.”

You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, shaking your head.

“Come on, you’re making me nervous again.”

Finally, he looks at you, seeing how anxious your gaze is. How your lips are pursed, how your eyes are begging him not to look so intensely.

He can’t help but smile.

Releasing your hands, he climbs back over you and lowers his lips to yours, gentle but firm. Sure that this is what he wants.

You slide your hands into his hair, anchoring yourself to him and trying not to gasp too loudly when he lowers his hips back down to yours, pressing the fabric of his sweats against your bare core. He pushes his tongue carefully against the seam of your lips, angling his head for a better fit when you part your lips for him.

You’re so focused on kissing him, on feeling the way he brushes his tongue against yours and makes your head swim, that you don’t feel one of his hands finding your breast until he’s cupping it and kneading softly.

“ This okay? ” He murmurs against your lips, growing bolder when you nod earnestly. 

“Little more is okay, too…” You feel him try again, feel his thumb pass over your nipple and then find it again when you twitch at the feeling. He focuses his attention there and flicks at it a few times, a weak moan leaving him when you dig your teeth into his bottom lip and pull it into his mouth in response.

The hands you have in his hair grip tighter, and you’re whispering his name against his lips, because he’s bucking his hips forward unconsciously again, bumping up against your core and sending a shock through your skin. 

He does it again, on purpose this time, because he likes the little shiver that runs through you, the way you lift your hips to meet his halfway. He likes how you feel under him, your skin soft under his hands and your core wet, starting to soak through his sweats and boxers the longer he touches you.

He drops his mouth to that spot under your ear that he likes, his heart pounding in his ears and his pants tight on him when you whisper into his ear, that ‘ Tobio ’ a half-moan and full of desire. Full of him and everything you want him to do to you.

And when he feels you push at his sweats with a shaky hand – when you arch your back and press your chest against his, asking him quietly to please take them off – he wants nothing more than to make you his.

With a sigh that holds everything he’s nervous about – hurting you, not being able to make you feel good, fucking this up – he leans away just enough to reach over for your bedside table, for the box that sits on top.

You had gone together to the convenience store last night, standing together in mortification and confusion by the condoms. He hadn’t known what size to get. He’d been so lost, and there had been so many options. 

You had watched him stand in the aisle with a box marked ‘Medium ’ for so long – long enough that you’d left him there to grab some snacks, to give him space – that by the time you’d come back, arms full of chips and drinks, he was still standing there, staring down at it. He’d switched it out for the large ones at the last second, and you’d tried not to blush at the implication.

Now, as you’re pushing his pants past his hips and staring down at his cock as it slaps lewdly against his navel, you’re realizing that he’d probably made the right choice in that store last night.

He fumbles for the box when he feels the cold air on his hot skin, and it falls to the floor. He swears under his breath, his voice shaky, and he reaches down for it. You watch him carefully, seeing the color of his ears and the flush of his cheeks. He meets your eyes nervously as he’s lifting back up onto the bed.

“ S-Sorry… ” He sits back on his heels, tearing into the box with shaking hands and pulling a condom out, throwing the rest onto the bed next to you. He starts to rip into the foil, but his hands are trembling so bad that he just ends up dropping the packet onto the mattress, between your legs. “Fuck, sorry-”

“Kags-” You sit up, fingers touching the back of his hand when he reaches for it again. He meets your eyes, and you can see that he’s more than nervous. He’s scared. “What is it?”

“I-” He swallows. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

“You won’t.” You’d been so nervous this whole time, giving him that shy look while he’d been touching you. But now your gaze is firm, unyielding. “You won’t ruin this. You want this, right?”

“So much.” He nods harshly, trying to convey to you how badly he wants this. He’s just scared. “I want this so much.”

“Okay. That’s all that matters, then… Remember? What you want, and what I want. That’s what matters.” When he just blinks, nodding slowly but still unsure, you take his face in your hands and force him to meet your eyes. “It’s me, Tobio.”

Kageyama stills. 

It’s you.

The girl from the sandbox, all those years ago, with that princess costume. Asking him to be your prince. Beaming when he’d said yes.

The girl who would cheer for him at every game, screaming his name like there was no one else, like there would never be anyone else.

The girl who’d sacrificed pieces of herself to make him happy, even when he’d been clueless and stupid, too caught in himself to see everything you were giving up for someone as undeserving as him.

The girl who’d tried to leave his side. Who’d left him lost in his head when you weren’t where you were supposed to be, anywhere he would turn, searching for you.

The girl who’d forced him to grow up, loving him and caring for him in a way that he would never find again. The girl who laughs and cries for him, the girl who fights with him and for him, because you’d promised never to leave his side again, and you’d stuck firmly to that decision, no matter how impossible he can be sometimes.

The girl who had looked at him – had seen how much he struggles to understand people’s emotions, how selfish and unaware he can be – and had only ever seen a boy that she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“It’s you…” 

You smile at the dumb look on his face, empty and processing, and nod. “It’s me. I’m not going anyw– mm- ” 

Kageyama surges forward, cutting you off and pushing his lips against yours urgently. You hold tight to him as he knocks you off balance, your head meeting the pillow as he kisses you with everything he has. Finds your hand in the sheets and holds tight, like he never wants to let go. Whispers ‘I love you’ against your lips, like it’s not enough for him to say it – he needs you to feel it.

And then he leans away, leaving you to catch your breath with your hand pressed to your heart while he reaches for that forgotten packet lying between your thighs. 

He rips it open easily – still nervous, but sure of himself – and rolls the condom on carefully. He scoots his hips toward yours, laying your thighs flat over his, and meets your eyes again as he’s lining himself up at your entrance.

You smile sweetly, nervously. “You’re sure?”

He smiles back, a soft laugh leaving him on his next breath. “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”

There’s no hesitation in your voice when you respond.

“ I’ve always been sure. ”

Kageyama Tobio learns in that moment that not all heartbreak is bad.

His eyelids flutter as he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Your fingers find his wrist, and your smile knocks the wind right out of him.

Neither of you say a word as he nudges the tip of his cock past your entrance.

You inhale sharply at the sting, and he stops, eyes wide as he watches you. You nod after a breath, and he keeps going. 

He drops his head, feeling how tight you are, how hard it is to push into you. You bring his lips to yours, kissing him and letting him know silently that this is okay, that this is normal. That he’s not messing this up.

You cling to him, burying your head in the crook of his neck when he drops down over you with a shaky sigh. His hips finally meet yours, and all you can feel is your heart beating, everywhere. In your head, in your chest, in your ears. In the place when your body meets his, the place that almost seems to pulse with his heartbeat, too.

His lips find yours, and you kiss him with your hands buried in his hair, holding him close as you tell him everything that you don’t have the breath to say.

You stay like that for a while, and then he’s tensing, because you had clenched around him unconsciously, finally finding the stretch less painful and more pleasurable. 

He pulls his mouth away, leaning back so you can prop yourself up on your elbows and then pressing his forehead against yours. You both stare down at the junction of your bodies, breath mingling in the space between you as you fight to calm your hearts.

After a moment, you slide your gaze up to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes are full of something – something soft, soft and warm and his – and your stomach flips harshly. You clench again without meaning to, and that look in his eye is gone, disappearing when his eyes roll back briefly, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of you around him.

“I-I’m sorry…” 

He only laughs breathily, eyes still shut, and shakes his head.

“Yeah, so am I.” He heaves out another breath, finally finding your gaze again. “This is torture.”

You blink, realizing what he means. “Oh! You can move now, Tobio, I’m fine-”

“You’re telling me that now ?” He looks distraught, and you can’t help but laugh. “Do you have any idea how much self-control it- agh- ” He shakes his head again, dropping his head to your shoulder and knocking you back onto the bed. He tangles his fingers in your hair, speaking into the crook of your neck. “You’re killing me here.”

You shift your hips, intending to apologize, but the feeling of him buried inside of you like this when you move has you gasping. He does the same, your name a half-moan in your skin. He pulls his hips back gently without removing his face from your neck, and you both breath shakily when he pushes into you again, slow but less uncertain than the first time.

The moan that tumbles out of your mouth is amplified by his own, low and harsh in your ear.

“You-” He moves again, and you start to crave the stretch he gives you when he pushes into you again. “-you feel-”

“ Kageyama… ” You cling to his arms, burying your face in his skin and wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him close like this. “It feels-” You cut off, moaning when he snaps his hips harshly.

Neither of you are able to form any coherent thoughts, and you can tell that he’s close when he reaches almost frantically for your hand, gripping so tight that his knuckles turn white.

He doesn’t last long, not when your moans are so close to his ear like this, flying straight down his spine and into a spot just under his bellybutton, shocking his system and shoving him closer and closer to something he can’t even begin to describe.

He comes with your name on his tongue, his face buried in your neck and your hand in his the only thing keeping him grounded. You mewl at the feeling, the sound forcing his hips forward one last time and drawing his name out of your mouth.

You feel full of him, your heart pounding harshly in your ears as he collapses on top of you. You keep your arm wrapped firmly around his neck, holding him against you. He catches his breath like that, his chest heaving against yours as he comes down from his high.

And then his fingers are wiggling against yours in your joined hands, and it almost aches to pry your fingers off of his when he pulls his hand away, sore from the tight grip. 

He reaches down blindly, and you think he’s going to lean away from you and pull out.

But he just skims his shaking fingers over your skin, reaching between you and brushing over your core. He stops moving when you jolt against him, and he knows he’s found your clit. He stays firmly there, his middle finger circling the spot gently and adjusting to the way your body responds, the way your back arches and you breathe in harshly at the feeling.

“W-What are you–”

“ You didn’t finish .” He mumbles against your skin. He can tell because you’re still clenching around him, your walls fluttering every time he does something you like. “ ‘m I doing okay? ”

“It’s perfect.” Your eyes start to fill with tears, your heart swelling with emotion. You hide your face in his neck. “ You’re perfect -”

“ Marry me. ” 

You almost think for a second that he hadn’t said it. His fingers never stop moving, and he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, still buried inside of you, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

But you know he had, because he’s saying it again, even as your head is starting to fill with white static at the way he’s touching you.

“Let’s get married.” He pulls his head away from your neck, and his eyes are meeting yours. “Please. Marry me. Let me make you happy.”

His fingers swipe over your clit, and those tears that were filling your eyes are spilling over now, your chest drowning in that feeling of love that you’d become so familiar with over the years. It forces a choked sob out of you, and you’re nodding frantically as he’s nudging the tips of his fingers against that spot again.

He laughs breathily, and if you could see through your tears, you would know that he’s staring down at you like he’s never seen something so perfect. Your tears stream down your face and onto the pillow, and the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach has you reaching for his shoulders to pull him back down.

“ I love you– ”

Kageyama drops his head to your shoulder as you come undone, your body twitching and your back arching as you cry for him. He holds you tight, murmuring his love into your ear as you come down, breathing hard against his skin.

You lie there, wrapped up in him as you sob, because you can’t find your breath and because he’s holding you like you’re somehow still not close enough.

“I love you…”

His words are soft in your ears, soft against your tears. 

“I’ve loved since before I knew what that meant.”

You cry harder, squeezing your eyes shut and sobbing into him.

“I was so bad at loving you before.” He finally pulls away so he can meet your eyes. You can barely see him, vision blurry. “But I know how to love you now. You taught me how to love you. I can’t unlearn that.”

Your hands are shaking as they grip his shoulders. He waits until your breath starts to even out, until you’re blinking the tears out of your eyes and finally seeing him. Until your heartbeat can match his.

“Please let me keep loving you.”

You whisper his name, and then nod. He starts to smile, and you beam back at him, your smile watery and fragile. He combs your hair out of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb while he talks.

“Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”

You just nod again, leaning your face against his hand.

“Okay.”

He sighs, heated, and rolls his eyes.

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

His smile gives him away.

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2023, Day 1

The Girls Come Easy

Summary: You had built an audience as an influencer, and everybody was ready for you to document going to see your favorite band, but what was documented was not what you had expected. When the boys invited you backstage, and took your phone you was not prepared for them to broadcast the debauchery and chaos with them. One too many drinks and hits off whatever they gave you, and you became their toy for the night. A night you and all your followers would not soon forget…

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader X Clark Kent X Mickey Henry

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, oral sex, anal, double vaginal penetration, double penetration, threats of triple penetration, pinching, sucking, fingering, recording without knowledge, multiple orgasms, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Masterlist

Taking out your phone, you look through the excited messages from your followers for this moment. A moment you have waited to happen for years. Not just going to see your favorite band with the dumbest name; The Twisted Turnips, but you had been invited to meet them. They had asked for you! But you couldn’t bring anyone with you, and you of course had said that was just fine. Anything to meet them.

The concert was amazing, but your adrenaline rush was still hanging in strong. You were going to pass out after this. Your body could only handle so much, and it was reaching its peak.

All three of them were disgustingly attractive; Mickey with his eyeliner, and penchant to never wear clothes. Lloyd with his perfect coiffed hair and a devious smirk. That man could ruin your life, and you would crawl on your knees for more. And then the brooding and dangerously handsome Clark. He was the quiet one of the group, but you just knew there was something underneath that coy exterior.

They had somehow found out you were going to be at their concert, and requested for you to come backstage. You? Each moment in this holding room feels like forever. Isolating you after a big concert is making your anxiety crash through the ceiling.

You settle back, picking at your nails with anticipation. Running through every different scenario you could think of for how this was going to go. But when that door creaks open, and you get the first flash of the bluest eyes, you stand up at attention. Lloyd’s devil may care attitude is more apparent in person. Mickey’s grin is damn near sadistic, and Clark is licking his lips like he had found his next meal.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you listening to trash like us for?” Lloyd’s voice was as smooth as butter. Laced with whatever booze or drugs he had consumed before coming to see you. He stalks around your body, letting his fingers run over your exposed skin, and it sends a sharp chill up your spine.

Alarms going off in your head, because the way they were staring at you like they were ready to devour you. And you like it. “Where’s your phone, sweetheart?” Mickey holds out his hand, and you give him an odd look. “We know you like documenting everything, but you shouldn’t document this. It’s private.”

“Oh. Okay, that seems fair,” when you hand him your phone, and Clark moves to stand in front of you quickly. His wide stature blocking you from seeing anything behind him. “So…why…why did…it’s hot in here,” you take a deep breath. It wasn’t hot it is stifling.

“I think it’s just you,” Lloyd whispers as his mouth closes in on your neck. He pushes his crotch into your backside, and you whimper, feeling the growing bulge. “What’s wrong? You can do your research on us, but we can’t on you?”

“Wh-wh-what?” Your words hiccup out while Mickey makes his return to your side. “What’re you…oh god,” you moan. Someone or some people had their hands cupping your covered pussy.

“God’s no longer here. We’re your gods. And we’re going to make sure you have the night to remember. Isn’t that what your filthy little mind thought up?” All three of them stop their ministrations. Crowding you, and making it impossible to move away from them. Eyeing you up, and needing you to confess.

“Clark?” Mickey whispers on your neck, and Clark pulls up his phone, clearing his throat.

“I lose all self control as Lloyd fucks deep into my cunt, while Clark owns my ass. Pounding me into next year, and Mickey fucks into my throat so hard, I know I died and gone to hell. There was no place for this amount of sin in heaven,” Clark speaks softly. Moving closer to you before his mouth hovers right over yours.

“Where…where did you get that?” Standing behind you, Lloyd pops open your pants. Sliding a hand down your front, letting his fingers slide through your slick. Palming over your clit when he enters two fingers. It is happening so fast, and you can’t catch your breath, but fuck this felt better than you could have ever imagined.

“One of your little followers informed someone, who knows someone, and it doesn’t matter. You wanted us to fuck you, and you proudly state it to the world that you are nothing but wet holes for us, we thought we’d be generous, and make you nothing but our filthy slutty soaking wet holes. A sweet whore for our enjoyment. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You whimper as Lloyd starts stretching you out with three fingers.

Your body starts to grind down on him as the other two touch and kiss over your body. Hands start ripping off articles of clothing, because who needs to take them off like a normal person? Letting your tits free and both Clark and Mickey attach their mouths to them.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you sink down into an unexplainable high. “There you go, honey. Three mouths, three dicks, and six hands that are going to destroy you. Give you some inspiration for your next smutty fantasy. See if you can describe the sounds we make, okay?”

The two men sucking on your tits pull off with a loud pop. Your nipples pebbled and swollen ache to have them back on your body, but they are just getting started. Lloyd looks over to some stand in the corner, giving it a wink, and brings your body in front of theirs.

Clark grabs your jaw, turning you to meet his mouth with a deep kiss. His tongue sliding past your lips, while Lloyd slaps at your tits. Grabbing them in both his meaty hands, he gives them a jiggle before holding tight to your waist.

Mickey lifts up your legs, and spreads you out wide, “Look at what a tight little pussy this is. Are you ready for us to make your dreams come true?” Mumbling out a yes over Clark’s tongue, Mickey walks in between your thighs. Letting Lloyd hold you up, and without warning his thick dick crashes into your warmth, and you pull away from Clark watching him stab into you. Relentless and hard, making you see stars.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but Lloyd grabs hold of your nipples, pinching the nubs hard, “Oh, we’re just getting started. You’ll wanna stay away for the grand finale. What are you?”

Distracted. You are distracted and in a trance at Mickey cramming himself into you. Lost in watching your body stretch to accommodate him, every inch of him disappearing in the depths of your pussy.

“What are you?” Lloyd shouts, and Clark smacks you across the face. “What are you?”

“I’m…” what are you? You didn’t know what answer he was looking for. It is hard to concentrate on how freeing this felt.

“Are you our whore?” Clark circles his hand around your throat, and your mouth falls open. So much pleasure. Too much some might say, but if you die from cock, you’ll take it. Lloyd spits down into your open mouth, and you swallow it like it was the best thing you had ever tasted.

“Yeah, she’s our whore. Look at how well she’s taking Mickey’s cock. She didn’t even need to get used to the stretch, she just took it so well. But let’s hear that whore mouth say it. Tell me. What are you?” He asks again, and you whine as pleasure starts building in your tummy. Mickey is hitting all the right spots, and you can hardly focus, much less think.

“What the fuck are you?” Lloyd gives your nipples another hard squeeze, and Clark’s hold on your neck gets tighter right as Mickey races to the finish line. Letting your walls clench down tight around him.

“I’m your whore! I’m your fucking whore! Oh my fuuuuckk!” Mickey pulls out of you and holds your legs spread open. Slapping at your clit over and over again. You squirm. You try to bring your legs together as the gateway to hell gets ever closer.

Strings of your arousal pull off him, but he keeps slapping until your pleasure is squirting out on his face, and Lloyd places you on the floor. Face down, ass up when he squats behind you, gripping your hips so tight, you know you’re going to bruise. He starts railing into you. “You didn’t tell me how good this pussy felt? You like being used?”

“Uh huh,” your voice is already sounding a bit hoarse, but you didn’t want him to stop. You still needed to feel Clark. You need his girth in your body. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” the only word you could get out, and you didn’t want to know anything more. This was the perfect definition of what you wanted, and how you wanted it.

It had become tiring to be this perfect influencer, so to have three men use you, telling you what you need, is setting your world on fire, and it was the best feeling. “Yes! Yes!”

“You’re enjoying this, huh? Look at this sloppy little cunt. Got you creaming all over my cock. You going to let us each come in this pussy? Watch as we leak out of that abused hole? Or do you want each hole filled with cum? Be our little cumdump.”

“Yes. Yes! Yes, I do! Fuck me! Fuck your whore. Fucking…ahh!” Your fingers dig into the floor, trying to find something to ground yourself as more pleasure builds up. “Lloyd, I’m going to…” it happens all so fast and your legs start to tremble from pleasure. “I’m coming. Fuck, yes. Fuck!”

He picks you up by your waist, and starts lowering you over Clark. Having your back up against his chest on the coach, and Clark’s meaty hands hold onto you. Guiding you lower over his thick engorged cock, and you cry. Tears brim your waterline, but you persevere not stopping until your cunt swallows him whole, and Lloyd and Mickey point chuckling at how you are struggling to take him.

“Next place it’s going is your ass,” you whimper, and he starts bouncing you over him. Squatting over him, and hands on your chest when Mickey brings a phone right up to your cunt being stuffed full of Clark Kent. “Are you smiling for the camera?”

Answering only by the most pleasure filled mewls. He slams you harder over him, and you scream out nonsensical words. Unable to think of anything. “Mickey, let Lloyd hold the camera and let’s see if this pussy can take more.”

“You’re getting a lot of hearts, sweetheart,” Lloyd mumbles as he takes the phone from Mickey. Placing it right at your entrance as his band mate tries to stuff you more.

“No. No, it won’t fit. Ahh!”

“Shh,” Mickey coos down at you. “You wrote it. Let’s try.”

“Please, please!” You look at where the three of you are trying to connect and scream. You doubted your body's ability to take all that. Did they have to have such large cocks?

“Shh,” Clark is the one in your ear. Stilling his motions as he kisses softly over your neck. “We’ll make it fit. Go on, Mickey. She’s the little whore that wanted us in all kinds of ways. Fulfill her fantasies.”

Mickey gives a hard push, and tears spring to your eyes as he fills your cunt with another cock. It hurt so good. The fullness in your heated cunt with both of them in there was soothing. It felt right. “I’m about to bust a nut,” Mickey exhales. “My…fuckfuckfuck. It’s so tight. It’s fucking tight. Fuck. Fuck. Lloyd, you won’t fit in there this time.”

“What?” You sob, looking in between the two of them, trying to find Lloyd who was being the camera man.

“We’re going to make you watch this video later,” Lloyd threatens, keeping the camera right on your throbbing pussy.

“No! That was fiction!”

“You admitted you did the research. You watched some disgusting porn about a girl getting her pussy stuffed with three cocks. You said it would be bliss to have the band as one with you,” Lloyd’s mouth turns up into an evil smirk as he moves the camera to your face.

“Her’s a little scared pussy cat. Come on, Sugar Tits, you said you were our whore. All your fans would love to know that you can take every cock.”

“I have three holes! Fuck me, raw, just not all in my pussy.”

“Tonight,” Lloyd adds in.

“Yeah, tonight. Ahh!” You hiss through your teeth as Mickey pulls out of you. Clark lifts you up, and moves his giant dick to your ass, and you bite down as a new sensation of pleasurable pain ripples through your body. Your ass had never been stretched out so wide. It happened so quickly, you couldn’t even think.

Mickey crawls onto the couch, straddling both you and Clark when he starts slapping you with his dick. “I got to stare at your ass?” Lloyd asks, positioning himself in between your thighs. “Fuck,” groaning as he pushes himself into your warmth, and Mickey does the same.

“Fucking whore!” Clark rumbles behind you. “Look at her taking every single one of us. All three of us, just like the goddamn whore she is. Hollow out those cheeks, Sugar Tits, we’re about to take advantage of your holes.”

You relax, letting the three of them command your body. Using you like their sex toy. Nothing has ever felt like this. You were ruined for life. It was the most glorious and freeing feeling being used for their pleasure. Grunts, growls, biting, slapping, and all on your body.

Deep into your body. Over and over again. Every part of your body ripples and recoils with their motions. “You’ve got two hands, too, Sugar Tits. Maybe next time the other two can join us, hmm? Such a fucking whore.”

“You look pretty with your makeup smearing down your face.”

“Kiss your Instagram, goodbye. I doubt after tonight you’ll have one,” they say words, but you can’t hear them. All you can do is feel. Every hard thrust into you takes you even further away from life. And closer to whatever hell they were living in.

Moaning out in pleasure until the four of you are just a sea of sin. Just when you think you can’t take anymore Mickey pinches your tits, Clark holds on to your neck, and Lloyd makes tight circles on your clit. Had it not been for Mickey jackhammering into your throat, they would hear what they were doing to you.

“Come!” Lloyd shouts, and cum from all three of them spurt deep into your channels, and you sigh as Mickey pulls out of your mouth, and stuffing his leaking cum back into your mouth.

Dumb on cock and pleasure. It is blissful. Your eyes start to close as Mickey brings someone’s phone back over to you. Holding it over your pussy as Lloyd pulls himself out. “You see what we did to her? Got her gaping, and leaking of cum. And look at this,” he brings the camera back to your face, and gives you a little slap.

You look at him with a dopey smile, and a whimper. “She’s good and dumb guys. Say bye to your favorite influencer. She’s our whore now. You heard it yourselves. I hope you enjoyed the show. Oh, you want to see her ass. Go on, big guy, they want to see your ‘seed’ leak out of her ass.”

“Mmm,” you whine as Clark pulls you off him. Showing your ass to the phone, but you're slowly falling asleep. It was amazing. You’re glad no one saw you.

“Yeah. It’s a pretty sight, seeing all those sloppy holes. Well. We’re signing off now. Goodnight,” Mickey ends the live feed on your instagram, ignoring all the calls, texts, and everything else that was popping up on your feed.

His finger moves around quickly as Lloyd and Clark tend to your exhausted body.

Deactivate.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

[gumballavocadoharry]

Unjust Corporate; Jack Chambers:

*This is the 50s, so corporal punishment was around and that meant teachers were allowed to administer swats with paddles or canes then. It's unethical, but I have to be historically correct to set the scene. I do not agree with this, and it's a trigger containing: mentions of abuse, abusive childhood, student abuse, hitting, beating, some racisms, bad parenting and bad educational system. *

Mr. Driscoll. Hated by every student (and teacher) in the building. Possibly the district. 

A very strict and callous type who would punish for even the simplest infringements. Assignment was a day late- an F. One word misspelled on a paper- F. Whispering in class- a hard paddle against your backside. None of the teachers in the school used the paddle or the cane. But Mr. Driscoll did. He expected perfection from every student, despite even if their best attempts couldn't come to par. A painly thin older man with white hair, a thin pasty mustache and liver spots all over his hands. A slight slouch in his posture, but still managed to stand a solid six foot in a half.

Then he met Roger Chambers. The boy swore he hated him from day one. His name was spoken stringent against his lips. Sharp and stern looks into Roger's mischievous but innocuous green eyes where filled with this utter disgust like the way you spot maggots in rotted fruit. "ROGER! STOP TALKING!" Roger wouldn't say a word. 

"ROGER STOP DAYDREAMING AND PAY ATTENTION!" Roger would force himself out of his gaze through the classroom window and snap back to the teacher's lesson. It was during class that Roger realized he could use both hands when writing. Left and right.

Finishing the last piece of his Benjamin Franklin- using his left hand- a harsh burning sting was slapped to his wrist. "Ow!" grabbing his wrist and looking up to Mr. Driscoll. "Use your right hand, Mr. Chambers!" Tapping the ruler against his palm, Mr. Driscoll gave Roger a acrimonious glare. Tears brimming his eyes, Roger slowly picked up his pencil with his right hand; ignoring the mordant pain that was shooting through his wrist. 

The walk home from school was quiet. "Hey Roger, what did you get on that Algebra test?" Roger shrugged. "Maybe, a 56- I don't know." Susan glanced to Roger with a slight furrow. "Did Matthew Malkin give you wedgie?"

"I don't know, probably." "Did Mom and Dad jump across the moon and into a pile of turnips that shoot out raisins?"

"Yeah, probably." A laugh escaped from Susan. "Did you even hear what I just said?" Roger turned sharply to Susan, almost ringing himself out of his world. "Uh... what?" Susan crooked her head to the side. "Roger, what's wrong?" Roger scratched the side of his head. "Oh, nothing. It's just.... I have a lot of homework." Susan bit the edge of her lip and kept quiet. Letting the sound of the swishing spring wind bellow her skirt, Susan would occasionally look to Roger and then back to the sidewalk. "Hi sweeties," Alice wiped the last path of suds off the tables from the cleaner. "I'll make you a snack in just a minute."

"Thanks." Susan said, taking a seat on the couch. Roger smiled before charging toward his bedroom. His wrist brushed against his slacks, twinging the boy with pain. Roger scanned his left wrist again. A thick red welt formed in the center of a purplish-pink bruise. Roger stared at the sore. Watching it ooze from his skin like an ugly patch. Changing into a droopy maroon sweater that hovered over his legs, making them look little under the cloak of garment. Roger trollied down the stairs, ignoring the stares from his sister and mother. "Roger, you changed your shirt." Roger smiled and took a seat at the bar, reaching for the fresh baked cookies on the platter in front of him. Alice let a slight furrow arch through her eyebrows. "I got cold, so I changed my shirt." As if Roger could sense Alice's buried question. Alice raised an eyebrow. "Okay...." Roger kept his gaze on the counter. A fear slithered through him- wafting in this musky glower of already having blown his cover.

Roger perked himself up with a smile. "Sorry, if I'm coming off mysterious.... it's been a long day." Alice gave Roger a small smile. She leaned in closer, pouting her lip a bit. "Are you alright honey? Feeling okay?" Alice put her hand on Roger's left wrist and rubbed- pressuring the fore of it against the brim of the counter. Roger bit the inside of his bottom lip. "I'm fine- it's just that- my new history teacher had us doing a lot of work in class today." Alice smiled wider. Rubbing her hand against Roger's cheek, she leaned back and went back to the stove. Roger kept his stare on her a bit longer- wondering if her mind was already made up. And.... it was.

Jack came home and hour later. Roger was already at his grainy oak desk, finishing the last of his assingment. Signing the last cursive word on the paper, Roger's heartbeat sped up. A warm patch heated against the nath of his neck. A burning heat flashed through his skin. Mr. Driscoll taught history. Mr. Driscoll would fail him for one mistake. Or maybe not one at all. He hated Roger after all. He would cane his wrist again. Or berate him in front of the entire class. Roger didn't tell anyone of how Mr. Driscoll seperated his desk to the outside of the classroom for laughing too much. The memory burned deep into his brain- sauntering the grimness of how he couldn't even cry because of the passing students and teachers. Embarrassed and angry, Roger was banished to the outskirts of the class until lunch, where his desk was brought back inside, but with his crayons sprawled out over the hallway. They were swept up and thrown into the garbage when asked about them.

Roger scratched the itch by his eye. His finger became wet, letting the realization of brimming tears that trickled down his face sink in. He swallowed hard- letting the hollow of his woe slide down into his gut to loll there.

A knock on the door sounded. "Rogie?" Jack's soft voice was both a reassurance, and a parcel. Roger couldn't afford to carry a burden. His mind was weighted with Mr. Driscoll's rasping jarring voice. Jack invited himself in. He always did that when he thought the problem was big. It annoyed the children, but it would disperse with realization of Jack's love and concern. He took a seat on the bed, letting his eyes- filled with worry- bore into Roger's. "Hey bud.... you've been quiet today... everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Why, why wouldn't it be?" He frowned. "Because, you came home and didn't say anything-"

"I was tired. Mr. Driscoll piled on a lot of homework." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Driscoll?" Roger nodded. Jack rememberd Mr. Driscoll. He hated him too.

He never taught Jack's grade as a child, but when he moved to California as an adult, he found Mr. Driscoll to be the biggest prick of an educator he met. Uttering several words about him behind his back, the old man was embittered, in Jack's mind. He hated how he demanded unquestioned respect, despite never showing it back to anyone. Sometimes, even to his own superiors. Jack never forgot how in the line at a supermarket, Mr. Driscoll glared at the young ebony man, a bagger, who was extraordinarily polite and kind. His name tag read, Dan, and Jack didn't think twice about him. He just thought good business was good business. 

"I bet he steals from the registers." Mr. Driscoll snarled. Jack puncated his frown to the elderly man, who was in his early sixties at the time. "He probably has kids all over with different woman." Mr. Driscoll didn't say this to anyone but himself. But Jack heard him. He heard everything the man said. "I think he's doing a good job." Jack wished he hadn't opened his mouth. But was still glad he did. Mr. Driscoll turned around, but Jack stared straight ahead. "Respect your elders." He said before turning back towards the line. Jack towered over the man slightly. He stared deep into the back of his head like he wanted to burn holes through it. He did want to.

Mr. Driscoll turned around with a scowl over his face. "Maybe you could learn something from us elders, hm?" Jack smirked. "I think society's already beat me to it, hm?" 

"I can help the next customer!" A lady clerk yelled. Jack happily took his cart to the next line. Ringing up faster, Jack pulled an extra five from his wallet. Handing it to Dan, he smiled. "Thank you very much sir, have a nice day." Dan smiled. "You too!" Mr. Driscoll watched as Jack walked out of the store with the biggest smile across his face, before turning around to share one last smart alec smile toward the old man. 

The name sent this ping of anger through Jack. "Mr. Driscoll." He repeated. "He's your new history teacher?" Roger's eyebrows furrowed as he gave another nod. "Racist bastard." Roger gasped. "Oh! I'm sorry Roger! Don't repeat that, okay?"

"Mr. Driscoll's racist?" Jack nodded. "I know him. Don't worry it'll be okay." Roger felt reassured. A warm glow had illumentated through him like a candle in the dark night. Jack's face was set serious. Serious into this deep rigid frown. Jack turned back to Roger after staring at the specks of carpet for too long. "What did he do in class?" A cool fanned through Roger's chest. He didn't want to tell him what happened today. But he knew Jack would find out. He would come to the classroom and surveillance Mr. Driscoll like a prison guard. And he would deserve it. But it wouldn't help Roger forever. It wouldn't etch the pain from his mind, or the fear in his gut... or the twinge of heat from his bruised wrist.

"Roger?" Jack's voice softened and warm. "He.... was strict. Very strict- he always is with everyone. Even some of the teachers." Jack narrowed his eyes. "But what did he do to you?" Roger swallowed. 

"I was talking too much in class. So....." Roger looked down. Jack wanted Roger to come closer to him, but couldn't choke out the words to say so. "What did he do Roger?" His voice laced more thickly in concern. 

"He yelled at me." Roger held in his tears. But Jack could sense them. He could sense the pain snaking through Roger, while his head was held down and his voice as frail as parchment paper. "What else?" Jack knew. Roger didn't know how, but he did.

"He put my desk....." Roger choked. Tears- not even having time to brim- begin dripping onto the carpet. He looked back up with tears and a wobbly mouth. "He made me sit out in the hall because I was laughing too much!" He brokedown. "Today in class, I decided I could use my left hand to write. And I did pretty good. Mr. Driscoll- ow!" Jack perked up. Roger had brushed a particular sensitive part of his wrist against his pants. "Ow.. ow...ow." He cried. Jack hurled himself up from the bed and grabbed Roger's wrist without question.

A big welt on his wrist. Bruising and burning with pain. The sight shattered Jack's heart to a million pieces. David would whip Jack's legs with a thick belt, till welts would sprout over his little calves. Sometimes, he whip his bare back or strike a paddle against his bare bottom. Coupled with slaps across the face and a throng of curses thrown at him, the sight of Roger's wrist nearly made Jack sick. He never bragged about his disciplines- there was nothing to brag about. Who could take pleasure in being beaten senseless for pratically nothing? Some boys at his school would laugh or brag about how many beatings they took from their fathers. Jack never joined in and in fact, would judge the boys. 

"What's so great about that?" he said once. Steward Hollister looked around before piping up. "Well, hasn't your dad ever beat ya?" 

"Yeah. I just don't laugh about it. It's ridiculous and abusive..... I'd much rather take pleasure in striking him back." He said, before walking back to his locker. "Sensitive little pussy." Steward laughed along with his friends. Jack slammed the books into locker and continued to the bleachers for the rally.

Looking at Roger's little wrist- his soft little wrist that was hurting, causing his little boy to welp in pain- sent an angry shiver through his spine. A muderous desire to wrap his bulky hands around Driscoll's neck and choke the life out of him until his face was as blue and purple as the bruise forming around the welt. 

"He... caned me." Roger's voice was so little. So innocent and fragile. Jack looked into Roger's eyes before cuffing his little lanky body into a bear hug. "Oh my little baby.... it'll be okay. Daddy's here. I'm so sorry.... I'm so sorry." Jack sounded regretful, despite not doing anything. "We'll take care of the boo boo." Roger didn't mind Jack's baby puns. In fact, he wanted it. He needed it. Clinging to Jack as he took him into the bathroom, Jack smoothed an ointment onto the welt before applying some kitchen ice. Placing a gentle hand on Roger's cheek, Jack looked into Roger's eyes with unfathomable sympathy and blazing fury. "Just hold it onto the welt and the bruising will go down in no time." Roger nodded, still sniffling. Jack placed a long big whistling smooch to Roger's cheek. Then another one, then another one. He didn't want to leave Roger's side for a second and would rather hold him in the hollow of his chest, placing candy kisses onto the ridge of his forehead.

Caned. It stuck out in Jack's brain all night. He would cane Mr. Driscoll. What he did to Roger, Jack would do to him thrice as hard. Jack kept his fists balled up all night, making the knuckles stiff in the morning. Jack finally hit it.

He would surprise Driscoll. He had no idea Roger was his son... but he would soon find out. Today... in the middle of history class.

Roger was sitting quietly at his desk. Mr. Driscoll spiting out nonsense facts about the british war of whatever. "ROGER! SIT UP STRAIGHT!" 

Jack could hear the harsh address from down the hall. Storming harder up to the classroom door- Jack dressed in his navy blue office suit, neat matching black dress shoes with a very stern look- peeked through the window of the classroom. 

"Roger come up here now!" Roger gulped, taking little steps up towards Mr. Driscoll. "It's funny. It's really funny how you think class is a joke? That all these students don't deserve to learn in peace!"

"But-"

"Hush up!" Grabbing a thick wooden paddle, Roger's eyes widened. "Turn around." Mr. Driscoll's voice venomed with hatered. Grabbing Roger's arm and snatching him around, Jack barged through the door- without thinking and yanked up Mr. Driscoll's arm- dragging him out of the classroom.

He practically slammed the old man against the walls of the corridor. "How dare you!" Jack hissed. "How dare you even lay a fingernail on my son like that!"

Mr. Driscoll straightend his suitjacket. "I didn't paddle him for your information- I was about to and he deserved it!" Jack came closer to the teacher's face. "I don't care what he did or didn't do. I saw you. I'll be the one to decide how and whether my child gets punished or not!"

"I am fully qualified to do my job, sir!" "To hell with your job- you ever touch my son again, it'll be the last time, you ever touch him... is that clear?"

Mr. Driscoll squinted his eyes. "Do I know you?" Jack didn't respond. His gruff breaths puffed out like steam out of the nostrils of a dragon. "That man.... you were in the supermarket- defending that colored boy-"

"He was a man. A grown man." Jack hissed. "How dare you." His voice trailed a little. "And yes! It's me! And that's my son."

Mr. Driscoll scoffed. "No wonder. The boy never knws when to keep his mouth shut- I'd pop him if I could." Even the burning glare from Mr. Driscoll, didn't save him from being lifted by the fringed of his collar.

"You're lucky I don't break your jaw into a million pieces! If you ever take that paddle out again- then you can shove it up your ass, because that's the first place I'm gonna come looking for it!" Dropping Mr. Driscoll back to earth, feet pinging so hard against the ground, that an ache begin to radiate. Jack's deadly glare riveted the man, before he whizzed past and into the classroom.

"Roger," Jack took Roger's hand and led him back outside. "How about you and me take the day off? Just the two of us?" A bright smile fell over Roger. "Oh boy! You mean it?!" Jack bent down and hugged Roger tightly. "Of course! I thought you could use some fun after that awful day you had." Jack cooed. Kissing the side of his temple, Jack took Roger's hand- both skipping down the hall with peps in their step. 

For Mr. Driscoll, this would surely be a day that would go down in history for him. He counted that as walked back into the classroom, wobbly and red faced.

The same way he left Roger yesterday, but with more vigour. Not able to look the class in the eye. He picked the paddle from the ground and set it on his desk.

"Class dismissed." He said shakily. As the classroom emptied out, Mr. Driscoll sat his desk and started his resignation letter. Somehow, he believed Jack. And he didn't want to take that risk.

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Winter Tales

Ghostly Winds

For @chaoslordjoe

Jaune and Yang smiled as they watched Tristan and Lionel shape their snowmen. While most children would make simple snowpeople with sticks for arms, stones for eyes and a carrot nose, Tristan and Lionel decided to go all out and make snow sculptures. Tristan's was a knight wielding a sword in both hands, while Lionel's was a puppy with a bone in its mouth. Jaune chuckled as he picked up the younger of the two.

Jaune: Seems like we have ourselves two artisans in the making.

Lionel: *chuckles* You know it! I already have a name for this dog right here.

Jaune: Oh? What is it?

Lionel: Gelert! Just like in the story of the Loyal Dog.

Jaune: Awwww, that's really sweet! I'm sure Gelert would appreciate the tribute.

Yang: What about you, little man? Who's this handsome fellow supposed to be?

Tristan: That's me. Some day, I wanna be a great knight! Just like the ones in Vale!

Yang: *nods head* Very nice! Saving kingdoms, swinging swords and riding off in stylish armour.

Tristan: You know it! But if that doesn't work, I can always be like you and Jaune. A Witcher for hire.

Yang: ...you want to be a Witcher?

Tristan: Eh, maybe. But only if I can't be a knight.

Yang: I see... oh... *frowns*

Tristan: Hm? Are you okay?

Yang: ...you know, I think it's about time you went off to bed! *smiles nervously*

Lionel: Aw what?

Tristan: But it's not even dark yet.

Jaune: Boys, listen to your mother. Night falls faster in winter. Come on now, scoot.

Jaune and Yang hurried back inside and tucked in their children to bed. In the living room, Yang cast Igni on the candles and warmed her hands. She had a saddened look on her face.

Jaune: *places blanket over her* Is everything alright? You seem tense.

Yang: *sighs* Of course I'm tense. Tristan wants to be a Witcher.

Jaune: *raises eyebrow* That's what got you worried? Come on, he's a kid. They're always saying silly things like that.

Yang: But what if he's serious about this? Ever since we took him in after his father died, he's always looked up to us. He sees as heroes, even after some of the terrible things we've done.

Jaune: Isn't that a good thing? He doesn't see us as monsters.

Yang: I know, but our life as Witchers isn't what I want for him. It's filled with pain, blood, hatred. *carresses his cheek* We're a family now and I don't want him to face the kind of dangers we did.

Jaune: *holds Yang* He won't, don't worry. Look, I know you love him, Lionel too, but I think you're letting this get to your head a little. Kids change their mind all the time. Remember when Lionel was adamant about hating turnips. One bite of your roast changed that and now he begs for more every day.

Yang: *chuckles* Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I just didn't realise how hard being a mom would be. *turns to Jaune and kisses him* Thank you, sweetheart.

Jaune: Always. Now can I get some of that blanket? It's freezing.

Yang: *laughs and opens the blanket* Get in here.

Jaune sat on Yang's lap as she draped the blanket over both of them. Outside, the snow started fall heavier and the wind picked up. The sound of hooves thundered the ground as a group of knights in jet black armour raced across the landscape. They screeched and howled, their eyes glowing red as hot flames. Any who came into contact with them would never see their old life, their souls now belonging to the riders. Many nations and kingdoms across Remnant feared them, for they were wraiths that brought the omen of war. They were the Wild Hunt... and they were sending a message.

[snowball-doie]

whats halloween like in the 127 house

before the kids, the boys always did halloween stuff at the office for content. ahri would stay at home and dress up wearing something revealing so that the second the boys were back, they'd jump her. one year she straight up just wore white lingerie, bunny ears, and a bunny tail. "i dressed up like doyoung--" she could barely get the joke out before jaehyun had his lips pressed against hers and mark was unclasping her white bra. sometimes the boys would go out to party in clubs that were more catered towards idols.... on the rare occassion they would do that and they wanted to take ahri with, she would just wear a costume with a mask so that no one could take a picture of her face if they saw her with the boys.

yuta's been planning reyna's costume for MONTHS. he's always dressing her up, right, so this is the most important day of the year for him because he gets to go all out, buying her the most expensive costumes, putting all the accessories together, making things to go along with it, etc. haechan helps her get into her costume before johnny takes her and jooha to school. jungwoo always tries to do her hair, but taeyong has to fight him off-- he's been a victim of jungwoo's barber shop, he will not have their daughter suffer the same. reyna outgrew her princess phase at a fairly young age, so yuta's able to put together cool costumes from animes or popular film franchises, like harry potter or marvel. one year reyna was sophie from howl's moving castle, and yuta dressed up as the turnip head, and tiny jooha was markl <3

jooha doesn't like complicated costumes that take a lot of time to put on or feel heavy or irritate him throughout the day-- they learned when he was little that if they put something like thor's armor on him, he would just take it off before lunch time. so jungwoo, mark, doyoung, and ahri will sit with him and figure out, like, a month in advance what he wants to dress as. when reyna does harry potter one year (she dressed as fleur, and yuta was krum), they just put jooha in a gryffindor uniform and a thunderbolt sticker on his forehead (which he took off at lunch), and he wore his usual glasses. boom. harry potter. he dresses as favorite era haechan one year........ the boys cant stop laughing. dont worry, he does cherry bomb johnny too. and then fire truck taeyong. you know, none of his dads are safe when it comes to halloween, okay. they should've seen this coming when he wanted to dye his hair like them lmao.

when the kids are older, reyna, um. well. she wears, um. revealing clothing to say the least-- yuta HATED the first year when she said she didnt want him to make a costume for her "what do you mean?" "im going out with my friends this year, so i dont need you to make something. we're going as the fairies from tinker bell" "there's guy fairies in tinker bell" "chichi, you're not invited to go to a party with us"-- he tried to move to jooha, seeing if he could still do something with one of his kids, but all of the options yuta thought of made jooha turn up his nose. he's had a bad time with halloween ever since. "yu, come watch movies with us," ahri begs after she finds him sulking in his bedroom like a wounded cat. "no. my kids hate me" "they dont hate you" "they dont wanna match with me anymore" "they grew up. that happens." and he just rolls over to pout some more. so reyna likes to go partying with friends in hongdae and/or itaewon-- literally anywhere there's a party, she and her friends are there. jooha doesnt dress up by the time he's in high school because no one wears costumes to classes anymore, and he doesnt go out at night, so theres no point in making a fuss over it. instead, jooha and his parents stay in and watch movies together. it's the only time they can be convinced to eat a shit ton of candy without feeling guilty about it.

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 4

After a few games and a few beers, Steve didn’t even notice how close Jonathan was pressing to his side. Well, he noticed. It would be more accurate to say he was less self conscious about Jonathan being that close.

“Okay, Nancy, Robin, settle something for me”, Eddie hobbled over to a family portrait and took it off the wall. “Are these the actual Harringtons?”

Nancy shrugged. “I actually never met his parents.”

Steve turned his head to look at her, mouth open in shock. “We dated for a whole year!”

“Yes and I never saw them.”

“I saw them pulling out of the driveway once”, Robin said. “But I’m not entirely sold.”

“On my parents?”, Steve questioned.

“I’m like 90% sure that was a hoax. I think pulleys were involved.”

“You guys are insane. I have parents. And there’s photographic proof. Eddie was here when they left.”

“Like Robin, I’m also not entirely sold”, Eddie said, putting the frame back. “Those could’ve been actors.”

“Why would I hire people to pretend to be my parents?”

“Because you're a Cabbage Patch Kid”, Eddie surmised.

Nancy snorted up some of her drink while Argyle simply nodded in understanding. “That explains so much man…”

“I have a birth certificate!”, Steve exclaimed.

“Just like a Cabbage Patch baby would”, Robin pointed out.

Jonathan easily slung an arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’d like you even if you were a turnip baby.”

Robin grinned. “With his head it’s more like a pumpkin baby.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve had been in the middle of deciding how he felt about what Jonathan had just said and whether or not it was true and why that even mattered when Robin made her comment.

“Your head is like a square dude”, Argyle said.

“Oh my god, it is”, Nancy said like the answers of the universe had been brought to her.

“Are you guys high? Is that what this is?”, Steve asked as he looked all around them.

“I’d kiss your pumpkin head too”, Jonathan said, giving Steve’s temple a kiss.

“I gotta take a leak”, Eddie said, making his way around some game pieces and heading to the bathroom. 

If Steve ever felt insecure about his appearance, Eddie would’ve kissed that square head of his until he ran out of breath. He couldn’t really begrudge Jonathan since he was pretty much doing that, if a bit reserved since they were all hanging out together. When he and Steve were alone, they were probably less restrained. Probably had their hands all over each other and kissing more than just foreheads.

Eddie let out a breath and then looked down. He bit down on his knuckles. He really had went to the bathroom to piss but now he had a different problem. Turns out thinking of pretty boys kissing wasn’t conducive to NOT getting an erection. Eddie washed his hands and tucked himself away, giving himself a moment to calm down.

There were other fish in the sea. Especially compared to the very small pond that was Hawkins. He wasn’t gonna get hung up on whatever Jonathan Byers and Steve Harrington were getting up to. He was better than that. Eddie opened the door and immediately got a face full of Jonathan.

“Whoa!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I was just coming to check on you. Steve said I should, in case you get lost and I’m only now just realizing that was a joke.” The Harrington house was big but not that big.

“Yeah it was a joke”, Steve said, coming down the hall to retrieve his boyfriend.

“Don’t take it too hard Byers, Stevie here has a wit drier than a cracker”, Eddie said, giving Jonathan’s shoulder a pat.

“If that’s another jab at the shape of my head-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it my liege”, Eddie bowed with his head and moved past Jonathan to get back to the others.

Once they were behind him, he looked down real quick just to make sure his little buddy wasn’t trying to make an entrance and thankfully, it was gone. Eddie was wringing his hands as he got back to the others. That had been a close call. He really needed to reign it in when it came to those two. Eddie had thought he only needed to get over Steve but one of Wayne’s comments made him realize that Jonathan was easy on the eyes too.

Just his luck to have a crush on two guys who were all wrapped up in each other. Eddie was about to excuse himself for the evening, unable to take much more when in his hand-wringing, he realized he forgot to put one of his rings back on. He had taken them off to wash his hands and had gotten all but one back. It must still be on the sink.

Eddie turned heel to get it, making his way back to the bathroom. He was kind of hoping neither Steve nor Jonathan were using it because it’d be a little embarrassing to ask them to pass it to him while they were on the toilet but he might have to.

The next few moments felt like they were in slow motion.

Because Jonathan had Steve pressed against the door as he was kissing him.

Eddie felt like time was moving through syrup. He’s had his feelings hurt before. He’d been turned on before. Never had it happened at the same time. There was a whirlwind brewing inside him and reaching a point where it was about to burst forth. He stumbled backward, grabbing their attention. He could only take their eyes for about 2 seconds before he was bolting from the hallway.

Had somebody called his name? Probably. He had rushed from the hall and right through the door to get outside. Anyone who saw would think he had an angry mob on his tail. Eddie got to his van and drove off, not giving a thought to where he was going beyond ‘away from here’.

He did eventually stop, on a dark street corner somewhere. He really didn’t want to go back to Wayne like this. And there was no way he was going back to Steve’s house. Eddie knew eventually he’d have to make a choice, but for now, he turned off the van and moved to the back where he always kept an extra blanket and pillow. There was one thing he was good at and it was moping in the darkness.

Part 6

Tag Team

@freddykicksasses

[captain-lessship]

The Cobains Pt. 2

Soft strumming of a guitar sounded through the home as Kurt played, trying to perfect the sound for his new song. Then the sound of crying stopped him, he sat the guitar down and stood up. As he walked from the office room door, Turnip, now a slightly older cat followed him. 

He rounded the corner to the room that was beside yours and his shared room, he opened the door to the beautiful nursery.

The walls were painted a soft blue and decorated to look like a forest. Yours and his hand prints were used as the varying colors of leaves on the trees and a band of tiny forest bunnies hopping and dancing a dividing the wall. Under the bunnies, it was a soft pale green, a beautiful complimentary color. 

His voice was soothing as he walked to the bassinet, “Hey, Shh, Shh, I’m here.”

He peered over the side of it to see his precious little boy, Erin, whose tears were falling down his face. Kurt tenderly picked him up, “Are you hungry? It’s about time. I was getting a little worried about you, little man.” 

Kurt had been staying home with him while you were working so he knew Erin’s schedule and was keen to keep it. You stayed home with Erin from birth to three months and had worked out with your employer a schedule that would allow you to be home more. 

Kurt had been writing songs and performing closer to home during the first three months of his sons life, now trading out with you, for a almost full time Dad deal.  After Erin’s first birthday, he would be back in the Nirvana front man position.

As he warmed the bottle, Erin watched his fathers actions intently. Kurt noticed.

“You’re so smart, you know that?” He said.

Erin let out a giggle, “Of course you do.” He pressed a kiss to his head. 

Then a jingling caught Kurt’s attention, a wide smile came to his face, “I think she’s home!” 

Turnip ran to the door, egging Kurt to follow him. Kurt checked the bottle to make sure it wasn’t too cold or too hot for his boy before letting his baby begin drinking the milk. He walked into the hallway, just as you closed the door behind you.

“All of my boys!” You exclaimed as you say your bag down, giving a quick pet before moving to Kurt and Erin, who was enjoying his bottle.

You pressed a kiss to Erin’s head, cooing at him, “Hi sweet boy, did you miss me?” 

There was no response. You huffed, “Nine months and eight and a half hour labor for you to prefer your dad.” 

“Oh come on, he’s just hungry. He loves you.” 

“We all have a favorite parent,” you kissed him before laying your head on his free shoulder, your loving gaze fell to Erin. “Almost six months. He’s so precious.”

“It’s crazy how quick he’s growing.” 

You quickly got changed into more comfortable clothes and demanded to hold you baby boy, who you missed all day. 

You were comfortably laying outside on the porch swing, Erin carefully putting his little hands in your hair, gripping it ever so often. 

The sun was beginning to go down and you were enjoying the remainder dark streaks of orange that stained the sky. 

Kurt, who had your legs in his lap, was absentmindedly practicing finger positioning for guitar notes on them. You knew he missed his band and a part of you felt an element of guilt. 

“Kurt?” 

He hummed in response, head turning to look at you.

“I know you’re wanting to play again. Am I right?”

Kurt always was honest but for the first time in a long time, he found himself not wanting to be. He loved you and he loved Erin but he missed playing. He played better when he was happy and now he was. He was so happy, he didn’t know what to do with it but play.

“You are. But are you two going to be okay if go back to playing?” 

“Let’s see,” you tapped your chin with your pointer finger, “Staying home, not having to deal with costumers, taking care of the cutest kid in the world… I think I’d be fine.”

“What about him?” Kurt asked, hand going to Erin’s back, rubbing it gently.

“As for him, I think he’ll be okay. Just no skipping holidays and birthdays. But,” you looked at the very sleepy baby, “Promise me that he’ll come first, even before me. Promise me that before I say a full yes.”

Kurt thought about it until the sky was a cold dark blue and stars began to twinkle, “I promise.” 

You kissed Erin’s cheek repeatedly, getting a laugh out him as you carefully dressed him in his fox pajamas. You smiled brightly at him as you lifted him up and began to rock him, hoping to at least get him half asleep before you put him in the bassinet.

Kurt was watching from the door way, admiring how easily you got him to fall asleep. Kurt chalked it up to Erin enjoying your heartbeat more.

You carefully pulled the door almost closed, leaving about three inches open. Kurt immediately looped his arms around you, letting his head rest on your shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.” He whispered and you tiredly obliged.

The big comfortable bed seemed to swallow you as you laid down and Kurt pulled the quilt over you. You rolled over to face him.

“Hello pretty lady.” He said, voice softly lulling you closer to sleep.

His fingers gently carded through your hair, gracing your scalp with faint scratches. “I love you.” You mumbled out before sleep over took you.

“I love you too.”

[thatguywiththefaceog]

Horntober 2024-Threesome

The Ghost and Molly McGee Molly/Libby/Andrea

A game of truth and dare escalates into a threesome between Molly, Libby, and Andrea

Warning the following story contains minors in sexual situations. If this makes you uncomfortable or are under 18 please do not read. This story is rated E for explicit and is for adults only. This story is a complete work of fiction.

nsfw under the cut

Molly was super excited for tonight. It was the night of her big sleepover tonight! Both Andrea and Libby were coming over. It would be ladies only tonight as Scratch had business in the Ghost World.

Libby was the first to arrive with Andrea coming a few minutes later. After changing into their pj's, the girls settled down in Molly's attic for party games.

“All right ladies,” said the 13-year-old girl. “How about we start things off with a little truth or dare?”

“Truth or Dare? Isn’t that a little strong for McGee? You don't wanna play like Monopoly or something?”

Molly puffed up her cheeks, indignantly. “I'm a multifaceted girl Andrea. I can wanna do Truth or Dare too.”

“Aw, you're so cute when you pout,” Andrea said.

“Guys…” Libby said meekly.

“That’s it!” Molly stood up and dramatically pointed to Andrea. “Andrea, Truth or dare?”

“Dare. Duh.”

“Well, I dare you too… take your shirt off!” Hey Scratch wasn't here, might as well make the most of it.

“Fine,” Andrea said coolly. With a swift pull she removed her shirt revealing her chest to her friends. Since she was in her sleep wear her training bra was off and with her day clothes. Her nipples were bright pink, and her chest was covered in cute freckles. Her breasts had already started developing. And while she wouldn't be confused for a high schooler anytime soon, her chest was still more noticeable than either Molly's or Libby's. Andrea waltzed over to the window and tossed her shirt out.

“Aw Andrea, I just said you had to take it off, not keep it. Or throw it out the window.”

Andrea looked out the window. “Oops.” She spun around and went back to her sleeping bag. “Well played Mcgee. But it's my turn. So…Libby! Truth or dare?”

“Wait! Why me?”

“Cause if this just devoles into me and Molly trading dares you'll be left out. Duh.”

“Oh okay. Truth.”

“Have you ever rubbed one out before?”

Libby's face grew red. “Yes,” She mumbled.

Molly giggled. “Oo, who too?”

“I already answered the question. Andrea, truth or dare?”

“I did a dare already… so truth.”

“Do you have a crush on a boy?”

Andrea laughed at the innocence of the question. “No, not on a boy.” Andrea and her bare chest were uncomfortably close to Libby when she answered that. “Okay so, my turn again. Hmm McGee, I dare you to… go buy a candy bar from the mini mart disguised as a boy.”

“Pfff, that’s the best you got Davenport?”

“Without a shirt.”

“Wha?”

The store clerk was reading a magazine. He hated the graveyard shift, you're either too bored or not bored enough. The bell ring told him that someone had entered. He looked up and saw a scrawny little asian boy. He had a red baseball cap and baggy shorts. He looked about 13ish, couldn't be so sure. The kid wasn't wearing a shirt, but that was true of most customers here. He wasn't sure was the kid was on but he looked nervous as fuck.

Alright, play it cool,.play it cool Molly thought to herself. She could feel the cool autumn wind against her bare chest. Fudge her…nipples were so hard right now. She was using her turnip ball hat and a pair of baggy shorts discreetly borrowed from Darryl. And she was so gosh danged flat she did pass as a boy!

Across the street Andrea and Libby watched from some bushes. “Holy fuck, she's actually doing it!” A blushing Libby could only watch.

“Hello good sir, one candy bar please.” Molly said, slapping the candy bar onto the counter. She talked in a gruff voice, doing her best to imitate a boy’s.

The clerk had seen weirder. “1.80.”

“1:80 for one candy bar?! Sweet baby corn.” Molly muttered under her breath as she dug out her money. She took the candy and ran off. The three girls made their way back to Molly's.

Molly stood in front of her two friends, still topless. “Alright Libby, truth or dare?”

Libby was still embarrassed by the last truth she did. Plus this was Molly, surely she would go easy on her friend dare wise. “Dare.”

“I dare you to go bottomless for the rest of the night.”

She covered her crotch. “Why!?”

“Cause me and Andrea are already half naked.”

Libby sighed. She slipped down her pants and panties. The others gasped. Libby has more pubic hair than either of them. “Don't stare,” Libby said miserably.

“Well it's your turn,” Andrea reminded her.

“Molly…make out with Andrea! With tongue.”

“You’re supposed to ask truth or dare first.”

“Just do it!” Libby roared.

The two girls came together and kissed. Their bare chests touched each other as they kissed. Their tongues met and their nipples rubbed together. Heat burned in their pussies. Spit connected their lips as they broke apart. “Oh, baby corn. It's my turn, right? Andrea I dare you to…” Molly pulled off her shorts. “To take off your pants.” Andrea slipped off her pajama bottoms while Molliy got out of the shorts she was wearing. The two fell to the floor as they went at it. Libby couldn't herself. She started fingering herself with reckless abandon.

Molly’s hand went towards Andrea's crotch. While not as much as Libby's, Andrea had grown a bit of peach fuzz. Molly meanwhile was completely smooth down there. Andrea's warmth engulfed her fingers as she massaged her walls. They kissed again. When Andrea came, she sounded like a puppy sneezing.

Libby came from her own finger work, drawing the attention of the other two.

“Libby…”

Libby was pulled into the madness. She fell onto the floor and Molly crawled on top of her. After a few kisses on the mouth, Molly shifted her body. Libby found herself faced with Molly's cute little sex. Molly started licking Libby's hair mound, hair running over her tongue. Libby gasped. She looked up and kissed Molly's special box. Her own tongue pushing past the folds. Andrea was not one to just be an observer and sucked on her fingers until they were slick with her spit. She walked over to Molly’s wiggling ass and stuck her fingers up there. Molly shouted but Libby pulled her head down with her legs and Molly resumed eating her out. The three's rhythm was in sync. Andrea took great pleasure in watching Molly and Libby cum. Molly rolled off of Libby. crouched down as Libby sat up. She kissed her.

“Whoo, that was a hell of a sleepover game,” Molly said, her face one large blush. Her face and thighs were a mess of slick and she was just covered in sweat. “Ah, anyone up for a shower?

She was quickly flanked by her girlfriends. “Only if it's together.”

[cyberphuck]

ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE ABRIDGED: PART FOUR

My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about the Farseer Trilogy, but doesn’t want to have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them!

 EDIT: Halfway through Jhaampe I start calling “The Big Turnip” the “Big Onion” instead and I can’t be arsed to fix it.

Read Previous Entries!

 Alright Bastards and Old Bloods, this is it: the final entry and JUMBO-LENGTH conclusion to Assassin’s Apprentice Abridged!

 - Excerpt from Chade Fallstar's private writings, Grune 28th, 1497:

Dear Diary, the other day we caught a little zombie-Forged girl and I've been keeping her in a jar with a stick and a leaf. If I shake the jar, she talks. She knows who she is and who her family is, and she also knows a lot of swear words. I gave her some bread when she wasn't hungry and she said "shove it up your ugly ass." I tried to teach her a trick and she bit me. I decided to send her to live on a farm upstate along with Chivalry and Prince Regal's mom.

 Love, Chadey.

 While Chade has been playing Jane Goodall with Forged people, Fitz has been very busy being an alcoholic. One evening, Chade calls Fitz up into his wall-hole and says "It's time for you to stop being a drunk and for the readers to remember who Prince Verity is."

 "Why is there a hay bale in the corner of your--"

 "Prince Verity is Chivalry's younger brother and currently King-in-Waiting for the throne," the Fool says, lounging underneath the hay bale. "That makes Prince Regal next in line after Verity. Just so you know."

 "Right," Chade nods. "Fitz, your job from now on is to hang out with Verity in his Fortress of Solitude and do whatever he wants you to do."

 "I'm fourteen," Fitz says.

 "Don't argue with me, boy, I've got a wedding to plan. By the way, did you ever figure out who tried to kill Burrich?"

 Fitz shrugs. "I figured somebody tried to kill him because he's Burrich."

 "Ah yes, the age-old solution of 'things just happen, what the hell," Chade rolls his eyes. "Well, go on, shoo. Go bother Verity."

 Sighing, Fitz climbs thirty-nine flights of stairs to where Verity is sitting in his empty tower room and staring out the window. "Breakfast, your highness," Fitz announces.

 "Ew," Verity moans.

 "There's also a cup of tea with enough caffeine in it to kill some sort of very big gray trumpet animal," Fitz offers.

 "Yeah, okay, I'll take that."

 "So, uh," Fitz says, standing there awkwardly as Verity drinks an amount of stimulant that should make his heart explode, "watcha doin up here?"

 "Defending the kingdom."

 Fitz looks out the window at the ocean. He looks back at Verity. "Like... with a gun?"

 Verity smiles softly. "Oh, you're stupid. I like that in a person I'm going to use as a tool for the rest of my life."

 "I like you, too," Fitz says, tail wagging.

 "I'm using the Skill to confuse the Vikings so they won't raid our shit and turn our people into zombies," Verity explains. "I'd ask Galen's Skill students to help but they're pretty useless. Hey, didn't Galen teach YOU how to Skill?"

 "Oh, he tried but I'm bad at it, it's because I'm a basta-- HHHHGGGHHGHGHHGHHHHHH KEPPET.EXE HAS ENCOUNTERED A PROBLEM AND NEEDS TO GHHHGH TROJAN DETECTED TAKE ACTION TO PREVENT GHHGGHHHH HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA CLICK HERE TO CHAT GHHGHGGGHHHHHH"

 "Huh," Verity says after thoroughly mentally assaulting Fitz without warning or permission. "Looks like someone used the Skill to convince you you were bad at Skilling. That’s just one of the many things the Skill can do that I will reveal to you whenever I feel like it, which will usually be AFTER you need to know.”

 "I think I need an adult," Fitz whimpers from the floor.

 Verity chuckles fondly. "I am an adult. Too bad I don't really have time to teach you to Skill properly. That probably won't come back to bite us. Run along now, stop crying. Oh, and see if Chade can get you to murder that gross noble two counties over."

 A few weeks later, at breakfast, Fitz tries to eat Coco Puffs as quietly as possible while Verity and Shrewd argue.

 "I don't WANT to get married," Verity says for the eighteenth time. "I've gotta keep sitting in the Martyr Tower and keeping Vikings from attacking us!"

 "Well guess what, bucko, I'm your father AND your king and if I say you're getting married then you fucking are!" Shrewd rage-butters a scone. "And I swear to Eda if you pull a Malicious Compliance like your older brother and marry the absolute worst candidate for queen you can find then I'll look the other way when YOU'RE assassinated too!"

 Fitz slowly reaches for the cereal box, eyes wide.

 "It'll be good for morale, Verity," Shrewd goes on. "Everybody'll be like, 'oh, if the Prince is getting married and pumping babies into some foreign woman then being murdered by Vikings really isn't that bad!'"

 "And who did Regal choose for me to be married to?" Verity asks.

 Shrewd looks at the smudged writing on his hand. "The Kraken," he announces.

 "You mean Kettricken?" Verity says. "The mountain princess? I'm like twice her age. And I don't have time to go to the mountains to grab her, Vikings will totally Vike you all while I'm gone!"

 "Well SOMEBODY'S gotta go up there and grab her," Shrewd insists.

 "Figure it out," Verity snaps as he storms out of the room. "And by the way, Fitz has been sitting there eating six bowls of sugar cereal because he has no adult supervision!"

 He slams the door.

 "Hi Grandpa Shrewd," Fitz says into the silence.

 "Hello, Lil Accident. Just so you know, Kettricken is only second in line to the mountain throne. First is her brother Rurisk, who took an arrow to the chest a couple years back and now is about to die from Being Poisoned to Get Him Out of the Way."

 "Yes Grandpa Shrewd.”

 Chade Spidermans down from the ceiling. "You're sending him and not me? Why?"

 "Plot reasons," Shrewd says, taking the cereal box away from Fitz.

 "Oh boy," Fitz says, jumping up. "I'm gonna go tell my friend the Fool!"

 The Fool's not in his room, but a bunch of other cool stuff is: every Lego set from 1973 onward, a bunch of those neon-colored ponchos from the 90's, Sudoku puzzles completed in ballpoint pen, and A BABY????

 Oh wait, that's a doll. Looks like a baby though. Weird.

 Next Fitz goes to visit Patience. Patience is sifting through an old jewelry box; she sits Fitz down so she can hold different things up to him and see how they look.

 "Hmm. No, too subtle... this one's too gaudy. Ah, yes, this one." Patience pulls out a black collar with the word DADDY on it in gold letters. "Yes, this is perfect. Put it on, Fitz."

 It's eventually decided that since Verity can't go to the mountains, Regal is going to be a stand-in at the wedding and then they'll have another wedding later when the Kraken comes down to Buckkeep. Fitz is loading up the horse-van for the journey when the Fool cartwheels up to him.

 "I have something for you," the Fool jingles.

 "I didn't go in your room and touch your doll or accidentally drop your seven thousand five hundred and forty one piece Millenium Falcon Lego set," Fitz blurts.

 "Take this Pepto Bismol," the Fool says, "and don't eat anything weird in the mountains."

 "Don't worry about me, Fool," Fitz laughs. "I'm sure nothing bad'll happen."

 Fitz goes on a road trip. August, Fitz's cousin and current member of the Skill Gang, is going with them to help Verity Skill-connect to the wedding when it's time. Hands the stableboy is also there, which is nice, because they're taking the I-5 to Jhaampe, the mountain capital, and there's not a lot to look at on the way. They travel through a lot of places that Fitz is just going to have to travel through again in two books while being chased by Regal, so all he really notices is that there's a shitton of grass, a bigass lake, and only one set of hot girls who want to give him and hands their first sexual experience (the girls' mom shows up and hits them with a sandal until they go home).

 The wedding party climbs into the foothills of the mountain kingdom, and there waiting for them are... the Vikings?

 Okay, so the group of seafaring raiders that I've been referring to as "The Vikings" are culturally sort of more like Mongol raiders. It's not really a one-to-one comparison but the important point here is that the mountain people are what we in the real world would typically imagine Vikings to be, except that here in the Six Duchies the Vikings are the Vikings and the mountain people only LOOK like Vikings, Fitz is Simba, Regal is Scar and I think the Fool is Horatio.

 Are we clear? Alright moving on.

 Fitz and co. are greeted by a welcoming party of mountain people, who are tall and pale and blond. They're super friendly and cheerful, singing the Songs of Their People and totally confusing Hands, who doesn't speak Mountain. Fitz doesn't speak Mountain either, probably. Maybe.

 They arrive in Jhaampe, where the buildings look like if you cut off the tops of the towers in Red Square or planted a bunch of turnips upside down. A second welcoming party pops up, and when August and his cronies complain that their feet are tired and they don't feel like walking anymore, the mountain peeps carry them into the city on planks. Fitz is extremely embarrassed by this and is trying not to cringe all the way down into his tights.

 To seem less like a lazy dick who makes strangers carry him places for no reason, Fitz strikes up a conversation with one of the old ladies carrying his plank. Her name is Jonqui and she knows a lot about the city, and slows the plank down so she can point out interesting landmarks and gardens.

 "Pull-Out Fail speaks good Mountain," she remarks, grinning. "Maybe he learned as a tadpole?"

 "I'm just super good with languages I probably grew up speaking," Fitz shrugs.

 They arrive at the biggest turnip, which serves as Jhaampe's royal palace. Jonqui escorts Fitz inside and he finds that it's not really a palace, it's more like a tent made out of a tree, with a lot of open space in the middle, and there's not a whole lot of private spaces that he might use to murder their prince.

 Whatever, he'll figure it out.

 "Come, Pull-Out Fail," Jonqui says, herding Fitz to a center stage. "We will watch our Shift Manager present his Shift Manager to be your Shift Manager."

 "Shift Manager?"

 "Yes, that is what we call our royalty. When someone comes to demand to speak to the person in charge, the Shift Manager is the one we have chosen to throw under the bus," Jonqui explains. "It is a very important duty."

 Besides King Eyod, who is an old person, there are two random mountain folk in white dresses. Fitz eyeballs them and wonders where the rest of the royal family is. "The girl one," Jonqui says, elbowing Fitz, "she is my niece."

 "Neat," Fitz yawns, still looking around for someone wearing a crown. "That other guy looks like He-Man."

 "Yes, he is my nephew."

 Gifts are exchanged.

 "This isn't going to be like that one scene in Midsommar, is it?" Fitz asks warily. "You're not going to like, set these people on fire?"

 "This," King Eyod announces, taking He-Man by the shoulder, "is my son, Shift Manager Rurisk, first in line to the throne of the mountain kingdom. And here is Shift Manager Kettricken, who shall marry the Shift Manager of the Six Duchies and become their General Manager, She Who Sets the Schedule."

 There is general oohing and ahhing and applause. Fitz realizes he's been chatting boredly with the King's sister this entire time. Why hadn't Regal sent any kind of message to the wedding party ahead of time to warn them that the mountain people liked to play Undercover Boss? No, Regal had just texted to remind them to bring his Gucci underwear, the dick.

 Jonqui drags Fitz over to meet Kettricken and Rurisk. "Kids, this is Pull-Out Fail Farseer," she says. "Now you go run along and play, and be back when the streetlights come on."

 "Yes, in our language we call him 'The Bastard' because he sucks," August chimes in helpfully. Rurisk glares at him.

 "Pull-Out Fail," Rurisk says. "I knew your father. And I spoke with him, on the day that he'd learned that he'd knocked up one of our people. He was a good man."

 "This joke is getting kind of old," Fitz says. "Listen, my name is Fitzchivalry--"

 "Oh, Fitzchivalry Farseer?" Kettricken brightens. "You poison people, right? Regal told me all about you and how you run around with Lady Thyme murdering people in the Six Duchies. It's so good to finally meet you!"

 "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Fitz replies articulately.

 "Come on," Kettricken says excitedly, "let's go to the herb garden. I heard you like herbs."

 On the way out to the herb garden, Fitz forgets that Kettricken knows he's an assassin and notices she has boobs, because he's fourteen. Together they get enthused about plants and shit, and they take a stroll around the herbs.

 "Taste this one, it's really weird," Kettricken says. "... What's that thudding noise? With a jingle? It sounds like someone's court jester is banging their head against a wall."

 "I hear that a lot," Fitz shrugs. "I usually just ignore it. You said to eat this plant I've never heard of? Mm, spicy!"

 "So," Kettricken asks as she stops a speeding train with one muscular arm, "what's my future husband like? Shift Manager Regal told me that he's really old and nasty and that he just sits in a recliner watching Fox News all day."

 "He's thirty two," Fitz tells her, mentally adding a dick to the big ol' bag that he wishes Regal would eat. "Verity is super nice, and funny, and he has fun hobbies and he likes animals. He's really handsome, too, he has gorgeous black hair and shining eyes and big broad shoulders and a really nice ass--"

 "So Shift Manager Regal lied to me." Kettricken frowns, biting her lip. "Does he lie about a lot of things?"

 "They hang people in my country for having an opinion on that," Fitz says.

 "Regal was six Jagerbombs deep one night and told me all about how you loved sneaking around and killing people," Kettricken confesses. "He said that if you showed up with the wedding party, it meant that you were here to poison my brother to get him out of the way and make me the heir to the mountains."

 "What haha that's weird what a weird thing to say haha," Fitz stammers, foaming at the mouth.

 Rurisk and Jonqui come running down the path to fetch Kettricken, telling her that there's a thing at the thing she has to do, remember that thing? And Fitz smiles and waves bye to them and then walks happily back to his room in the tree-palace and starts frantically digging through his stuff for the Pepto Bismol the Fool gave him.

 Rurisk bursts into the room at five the next morning, waving a bottle of Mountain Bismol. "Pull-Out Fail, are you still alive?!"

 "I wish I wasn't," Fitz moans, face pressed against the rug. "Get away from me with that."

 "He's not dead, no thanks to you," Rurisk says, glaring at Kettricken as she peeks into the doorway wearing footie pajamas. "Go get us some breakfast, and don't fucking poison it!"

 Fitz tries to stand up and faceplants on the bed. "Stop making the floor move."

 "Someone told Kettricken you were here to kill me," Rurisk explains. "I told her not to worry about it, but she thought it'd be a good idea to trick you into eating what we call Fentanyl Flowers and then not tell me about it until fifteen minutes ago."

 Kettricken comes back into the room with donuts and coffee. Rurisk breaks a donut into three pieces, giving each of them a piece. "And if this is poisoned, you've killed us all," he warns.

 "Oh my god, that was one time," Kettricken whines.

 "Listen, Pull-Out Fail," Rurisk says earnestly. "My little dinky mountain kingdom needs the space for farmland down on your big prairies. We need cool stuff from the town that the Liveship Traders books take place in. We need a beach for our college students to go to on Spring Break. So I'm willing to give you ethically sourced furs, good lumber for warships, and my hot little sister as trade."

 Fitz pauses with a donut halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean, 'ethically sourced furs'?"

 "We shave bears. It's not important right now. What is important is that you don't have to kill me to get me out of the way, because I'm on YOUR side. Do you get me?"

 "I get you," Fitz nods.

 "Good. Now I'm going the fuck back to bed. Kettricken, don't poison anybody on the way back to your room."

 "If you don't stop I'm gonna tell DAD--"

 Fitz lays back on the bed. He closes his eyes and wonders if communism should be a thing. Then he thinks, no, having a monarchy is definitely a good idea. What could go wrong with having a ruling class of divine-right royalty who are constantly murdering each other for the throne? And surely there's no drawback to having a Prince that's an evil little shit who commits crimes against humanity with no fear of punishment or reprisal.

 Yeah. Kings are the best.

 The next day Rurisk invites Fitz out to the dog kennels. Fitz loves dogs! Then they turn a corner to find a very old hound dog whose jowls, ears, belly and tail are all dragging on the ground as he waddles up to them, and the music swells as Fitz cries "Nosy!!" and kneels down to hug him.

 "That's my loyal old hound dog," Rurisk says. "Burrich the stablemaster sent him to me in a little basket with a bow on it years ago."

 "I had a socially unnacceptable soul-bond with this dog," Fitz explains.

 "Gross," Rurisk smiles. "Anyway, I gotta go do Prince stuff. Smell you later."

 Fitz immediately goes to find Burrich, who is in the Big Turnip presenting a horse to Kettricken as a wedding present. Cob--

 Wait, there's a note here. It says, "Cob is the stable boy that Fitz and Nosy met when they first came to Buckkeep." There's a piece of straw taped to it.

 Cob is there too, and he makes sure to give Fitz the middle finger as he approaches.

 "Burrich, I need to talk to you," Fitz says. "I just found out you didn't kill Nosy when I was little."

 Burrich stops what he's doing and turns slowly to stare at him. "I'm sorry, you thought I killed a puppy? Jesus, no wonder you were so twitchy as a kid."

 "But you didn't kill a puppy," Fitz says. "And we can still be friends."

 "You thought I was a monster who would [BUILD A ROCKET SHIP SO THAT AN ANIMAL COULD RETURN TO ITS HOME PLANET] if I'd found out you'd bonded with it, but you turned around and bonded with another fucking puppy," Burrich growls. "Which I told you is nasty, so no, we can't be friends."

 Fitz drags himself sadly back to the Big Turnip.

 That night, Fitz is getting ready for bed when Regal's servant turns up at his door. "Hey fuckwad, Prince Regal wants to talk to you," he says, and drags Fitz by the wrist up to Regal's royal Regal room.

 Regal is chilling in his chambers doing epic bong rips out of the skull of a dead orphan, like not a dirty street urchin, but specifically an adorable little ragamuffin with soot on their little tophat that flew off comically when Regal took them out from five hundred yards away with a sniper rifle. "What's up, DICKchivalry," he sneers, then high-fives one of his minions.

 "Hi," Fitz says, forcing a smile.

 "Have you gotten around to murdering Prince Rurisk yet?" Regal coughs.

 "Uh."

 "Uh," Regal says mockingly. "God, you're stupid. Isn't he stupid, minion who has no business hearing any of this?"

 "Absolutely idiotic, my Prince."

 "Prince Rurisk said he's on our side," Fitz says, "and that he wants us to have the lumber we need and his sister and everything. I figured maybe it'd be better to like, not kill him."

 "Alright, since you're too dumb to plan an assassination, I'll figure it out for you," Regal says as his minion loads another bowl. "I want him graveyard dead before the wedding so he doesn't stand next to me and make me look short. Now fuck off."

 Fitz fucks off with many a backward glance, wondering what the fuck he's supposed to do now. There's no signal in the mountains so he can't send a message to Chade or King Shrewd to tell him that Rurisk is cool actually, and even though Regal sucks, like, REALLY sucks, he IS a Prince and Fitz is a tool of the Crown so he does technically have to follow orders.

 What the fuck is Regal's problem? Fitz thinks while brushing his teeth the next morning. Why did he tell Kettricken that I'm an assassin? Why does he want Rurisk dead so bad when Ru-Dawg is on our side? Gosh, I wish I could talk to Chade or Verity or Grandpa Shrewd or literally anyone, but they're so far away, and--

 Oh right, the Skill.

 "AUGUST," Fitz pants, sneakers squeaking as he skids to a halt in front of his cousin. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Look: do you see this silver pin, with the ruby in it? King Shrewd gave this to me when I was nine and sitting under a table eating leftover pies. The Fool and Regal were there too, and there were some puppies, and King Shrewd knelt down and gave me the pin and told me that if I ever needed to talk to him, I could just show this pin at his door and he'd let me talk to him, no matter what, and there's something really important going on so I need you to send a Skill message to him right now."

 August looks at him for a minute. "No," he says finally, and turns to leave.

 Fitz grabs his sleeve. "August you HAVE to let me talk to Shrewd, there are LIVES at stake!"

 "Okay fine, jeez," August says, shaking him off. "I'll get Shrewd on the line."

 "Great! Great. Okay. Tell him, uh." Fitz takes a deep breath. "Tell him Prince Rurisk is doing great and I don't think we should kill hi-- uhhhhhhhhh, I mean GIVE him the PRESENT that we were going to POISON him with."

 "You're such a fucking spaz," August mutters, closing his eyes to make a Skill Call. Then he shrugs. "It went straight to voicemail."

 "Redial," Fitz says desperately.

 "No, I've got important cousin shit to do, including telling Regal that you just tried to get me to dial long distance to talk to the King." August walks across the palace to talk to Regal, but the Prince is high as fuck and doesn't care.

 Fitz leans against the wall and makes a thinky face. "Maybe I could kill Regal," he says for what will be the first of several hundred times. "Eh, probably not worth it."

 That night, Regal's minion gives Fitz a little secret packet of horrible deadly poison. "Regal gave me this to give to you to give to Prince Rurisk," he says. "Put it in his drink and make it look like an accident."

 "Did King Shrewd send me here as some kind of complicated political maneuver where I would kill Rurisk and then be publicly hanged for murder so no one would find out that we killed Rurisk for political gain?" Fitz asks.

 "Take the fucking accident powder," the minion snaps.

 Fitz walks through the Big Onion to Kettricken's door, where he knocks and tells her that he's going to kill her brother. Then he goes to Rurisk's room, with Kettricken following behind. He sits down at Rurisk's table and dumps the accident powder into a glass of wine while Rurisk watches. Then they both drink from a different glass.

 "Kind of sucks that Shift Manager Regal told everyone you're an assassin, Pull-Out Fail," Rurisk says. "You wanna hang out here in the mountain kingdom so you don't end up at the bottom of a lake with your feet encased in concrete?"

 "Maybe," Fitz says. "I think somebody's supposed to catch me in the act of killing you just now, will you let them in?"

 Cob bursts in the door. "Caught you red handed poisoning the Prin-- OH FUCK KETTRICKEN YOU DIDN'T DRINK THAT WINE DID YOU??"

 "No, why?"

 Rurisk falls over dead.

 "Wait, why is he dead, we both drank from the same gl-- wow, I do NOT feel so great," Fitz says, foaming at the mouth again.

 Cob grabs him. "I sent Smithy to space," he grins.

 "Yeah, well I have a poisoned knife," Fitz replies, stabbing him with it.

 "Sweet mountain Jesus, someone stop him, he's killing everyone!" Kettricken yells, then realizes she's holding a heavy metal object and beans Fitz in the head with it.

 Fitz wakes up in the stables outside the Big Onion with Regal already monologuing over him. "I wanted you dead because you and Lady Thyme poisoned my mother!"

 "Queen Desire, Shrewd's second queen who died at some point in this book but Fitz literally cared so little that he didn't even mention it," says a nearby hay bale.

 "Thank you, hay bale," Regal says. "You thought I didn't know you poisoned her, but I DID know! I also know that you were using Burrich to Skill, but as soon as I had Cob stab him you were forced to stop. I knew ALL of these things!"

 "Glag," Fitz says, concussed. Then he closes his eyes, and suddenly he can Skill.

 "Hi, Prince Regal," Galen the Skillmaster says. "Are you ready for me to Skill-Kill Prince Verity during the wedding so you can marry Kettricken and be King-in-Waiting?"

 "Ugh, but she looks like a Soviet Union propaganda poster," Regal moans.

 "Suck it up," Galen says, hitting 'end call.'

 Fitz is still laying on his face in the stables. Nosy noses in and ambles over to drool on him, then bites through the ropes Fitz is tied up with. Burrich shows up next.

 "You have the Wit," Fitz tries to say, but he's still suffering poison damage and the 'hit in the head' debuff, so it comes out as "Glaggaglah."

 "I'm in the closet," Burrich says. "Did King Shrewd turn you into a baby assassin?"

 "Glag," Fitz confirms sadly.

 Burrich looks back at him, then does a double-take. "Where the fuck did you get that collar that says 'DADDY' on it?" he demands.

 "Patience glave it to me."

 "I cannot fucking believe this," Burrich mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's the collar that I gave to your dad."

 Fitz looks at him.

 "You gave it to Prince Chivalry when he found out about me," Fitz says. "That's why it says 'DADDY,' because that's when he found out he was a father."

 "Sure, we'll go with that," Burrich says queerly.

 Jonqui, King Eyod's sister, clips through the wall while T-posing. "Come back to the Big Onion," she says. "Kettricken has forgiven you for poisoning her brother. Which I know you didn't do."

 They drag Fitz back to his rooms at the Big Onion. While Fitz is trying to remember how to drink water, August shows up at the door. "Verity called," he says boredly. "He said, uh, be loyal to who's loyal to you, or something. Also all of Regal's servants died mysteriously and he wants you to go to the hot springs to help him bathe."

 "I do not want to see Regal naked," Fi tz protests, but goes anyway.

 Regal's sitting in a hot tub drinking an evil martini when Fitz and Burrich arrive. "Ah, there you are," Regal says. "Hulking Manservant, bang Burrich over the head."

 Burrich goes down. Fitz yells timber. Regal drags Fitz over to another hot tub, ignoring the sign that says 'WARNING: DO NOT USE THIS HOT TUB IF YOU HAVE BEEN RECENTLY BETRAYED BY YOUR EVIL UNCLE' and throws him in.

 "And that's that," Regal says happily, dusting off his hands, and leaves.

 Fitz, flailing around in the water being hot tubbed to death, can suddenly Skill (again). This is great! He Skills joyously. Skilling is rad! I'm gonna call everyone! Hey Verity! VERITY! ... Verity?

 "Dearly Beloved..."

 The Fool looks up from his Adult Coloring Book. "Hm?"

 "We are gathered here today to join these two second bananas in holy matrimony. Do you, Prince Verity..."

 Verity! Fitz Skill-yells. Look out!! Skillmaster Galen is standing behind you about to pull a Skill Dracula on you and suck out all your, uh, Skill! That's a thing that can happen apparently!

 I am actually Queen Desire's bastard son and Prince Regal's half brother! Galen Skills evilly. I'm pretty sure there's no member of the Farseer reign that HASN'T either sired or given birth to a bastard! Like seriously, as a family we legit just cannot keep our pants on. ANYWAY! I have been conspiring to kill Verity and put Regal on the thro-- oh okay apparently you can just straight kill someone with the Skill too, who knew.

 Galen collapses, Skill-dead.

 AUGUST, Verity Skill-megaphones into August the Skill-cousin's ear. PUT THE KRAKEN ON THE LINE SO I CAN TELL HER IT WASN'T ME WHO PLOTTED TO KILL PRINCE RURISK. AND ALSO THAT I RESPECT HER AS A PERSON AND WILL GREET HER WHEN SHE ARRIVES AT BUCKKEEP WITH A FIRM HANDSHAKE AND A MANLY NOD.

 August's head explodes.

 ~epilogue~

 Fitz and Burrich are later found in a wet, unconscious pile in the steams. Fitz has puncture marks in his wrist from where Nosy pulled him out of his hot tub tomb before climbing into his rocketship and flying back to his home planet.

 Though neither of them are dead, Burrich has conveniently forgotten that Fitz is a baby assassin, and Fitz probably can't be a baby assassin anymore because he has about thirty seizures a day due to being poisoned and then poisoned again and then blugeoned and kicked and drowned all in the space of like thirty minutes.

 They spend a long time recovering in Jhaampe, even after Kettricken and Regal (remember him? he's still alive) go down to Buckkeep. Burrich tells Fitz that they're friends again and that he'll go wherever Fitz goes because he's wearing the 'DADDY' collar. Fitz says, "Because you... view me as a parental figure? I guess?"

 Burrich replies, "Sure. We'll go with that." NEXT TIME, ON DRAGON BOOK Z: Fitz has his Hot Girl Summer, immediately followed by his Shit’s Wack Winter, in ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED! 

[snoozykazoo]

Super Animal Royale x Turnip Boy Robs a Bank Collab!

MOM LOOK!!!! We're on the Season 9: Party Animal Update | Super Animal Royale Developer Overview!

Turnip Boy's crimes have transcended dimensions! After being sucked into a wormhole, our tax-evading, god-killing, cute little beast of a turnip has found himself in the Super Animal World!

We have partnered with the wonderful folks at Pixile Studio for a chaotic two-week crossover event that starts next tuesday! In Super Animal Royale, you can complete 6 challenges to earn Turnip Boy-themed items. Ever wanted to tear up wanted posters in a battle royale and clear the name for a cross dimensional tax evading 6ft vegetable? Me too! This is your chance! Additionally, you will now be able to unlock a Super Applecat. Crancran would be proud! UWU

Uh... we don't know what to say about Turnip Boy's vandalism in the Welcome Center fountain... He's just a chaotic little guy! He's just expressing himself, okay? It's a phase. Everything is fine... especially when you get to listen to a new Veggieville remix composed by Jake Butineau (another Jake!) over at Pixile Studios while you take in the carnage! How can anything be wrong when you're listening to such a bop?

We can't reveal too much, but we've definitely seen a few super animals in our game since the wormhole opened... when Turnip Boy Robs a Bank is released, you all will have to keep an eye out!

We are extremely honored to be Super Animal Royale's first-ever collaboration project! It has been incredibly fun working with them, and we can't wait to see everyone dropping in with Turnip Boy umbrellas! See you on the battlefield!

[flannelepicurean]

Karate's Bad Boy Mike Barnes

Okay, I FINALLY, LITERALLY, ACTUALLY got around to watching The Karate Kid Part III, and first off, this film is an absolute GIFT. I have...so many. Just so many. But I really needed to take the time to address a big point that was brought up by the excellent friendo who made sure I could see TKK3. Here you go:

I don’t think Mike Barnes is actually that bad of a karate boy.

I know what the article said. I saw the picture. It does indeed beg the question, “What did he do to get an entire article written about him, with the headline, Karate’s Bad Boy, Mike Barnes, emblazoned over THAT PHOTO? What deeds did he do that made him exactly the right candy to tickle the fancy of a towering toxic waste billionaire in a single-serving hot tub?”

Here are some FACTS, my sweet Cadbury snake eggs.

Mike Barnes is not karate’s bad boy, and he never was. Terry Silver is. You know it. I know it. Everyone in LA knows it. Mike Barnes knows it. And the minute he laid eyes on that shoujo-manga villain from afar, he was like, “I’m gonna sweep the leg on that man’s heart and get swept off my feet into a billionaire romance novel. [Dramatic turn] But HOW…”

Next thing you know, he’s storming into the HQ of The Karate Times to rock them like a hurricane, demanding they write an article about how he’s Karate’s Bad Boy. They scoff at him because, no, TERRY SILVER is karate’s bad boy. What, did you just get off the bus from turnip town?

And Mike is like, I dunno, “Actually, Kalamazoo, and I’ve been here for a couple years, but THAT’S NOT THE POINT, MAN! YOU GOTTA WRITE THAT ARTICLE!!!”

And the editor, whose name is Paulie, is like, “Why? You already knocked over Denise’s typewriter and a filing cabinet. Why would we do anything for you?”

And Mike’s like, “BECAUSE…[breathing with maximum nostrils] BECAUSE… [eyes becoming shiny] ...because…” And then he breaks down anime-style about how he needs senpai to notice him so he can do an elaborate scheme to win the heart of a billionaire villain.

Paulie and the entire staff lean forward like, “Wait…you’re saying that…you…and Terry Silver…”

Mike looks up. Fingers snap a jaunty rhythm in the background, and his eyes glow like prom-night lights as he begins to explain, “He…he…” A basso voice drops a jelly-bouncing, “JITTERBUG,” into the soundtrack. Mike’s grin twinkles. “Just…awakened something, I guess…”

JITTERBUG.

Paulie slams his palms on his desk and rockets to his feet, hollers, “Why didn’t ya say so?! If you say you can break boards…let’s go see if you can break hearts.”

Mike looks around as the staff mobilize with gusto, hardly believing his luck. “Really? You’ll help me?!”

Paulie spreads his arms wide. “This is KARATE TOWN, kid! We do wacky shit like this all the time! Come on, let’s get you a PHOTO SHOOT!” Mike follows the staff to a warehouse area off the side of the office, where the lights are bright and the possibilities are endless, breathes with amazement, “Wow, so many punching bags…”

He hits that high with all the kicks. So many beats per minute on those punching bags. Puts the boom boom into everyone’s hearts and goes bang-bang-bang until Paulie shouts, “THAT’S IT! THAT’S THE ONE! START THE PRESSES!!!”

The building’s doors WHAM open a few hours later, and Mike steps out, a big stack of newsprint headshots clutched to his chest, his smile as dazzling as the California afternoon as he twirls like Mary Tyler Moore and releases them like doves or parade confetti into the air, then goes skipping down the sidewalk toward his destiny.

A cop snatches one from the air and calls, “Hey! That’s littering!”

Paulie sidles up next to him and warns, “Careful, Arnie—that’s karate’s bad boy, Mike Barnes.”

Arnie rolls his eyes. Scoffs, “C’mon. Terry Silver’s karate’s bad boy.”

Paulie gazes off at the trail of litter in Mike’s wake, a twinkle in his eye, and a gnomish smile on his face. “Not anymore.”

Arnie looks down at the picture in his hand: A sharp face, and fists poised, a mean mug like a mad mongoose, ready to take on a snake ten times his size. Raises a brow. Remarks, “Wow.” Turns to Paulie. “You’re gonna be busy.”

Paulie shrugs. “Denise is already workin’ on a wedding feature and a couple obituaries.”

Arnie shakes his head. “You picked the right town to do business.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Paulie chuckles. “It’s freakin’ bonkers here.”

[heavensbeehall]

"The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," Chapter 12

Part 2: The Prize

Chapter 12: Uh-oh! Emily was reading so much fanfic she forgot where she was in the actual book. Coriolanus is jealous of everyone who dares get near Lucy Gray. He hates Sejanus and Ma Plinth. Tigris comes and he's like, "What do you think that song was about? Is she really a whore?" They go home. Grandma'am is also awful. He writes about the fun of war. The next morning, Clemensia is still missing. He gives Lucy Gray his mother's compact and tells her to put rat poison in it.

Quotes:

His girl. His. Here in the Capitol, it was a given that Lucy Gray belonged to him, as if she’d had no life before her name was called out at the reaping. Even that sanctimonious Sejanus believed she was something he could trade for. If that wasn’t ownership, what was?

Oh gross. Now I remember why I didn't want to keep reading.

“One hearing’s all my cousin Maude Ivory needs. That child never forgets anything with a tune,” said Lucy Gray.

If Maude Ivory was Katniss's grandma, do we think her dad had a Covey name? With a color?

Just like those Peacekeepers back in 12. Coriolanus couldn’t help wondering just how friendly she could be.

Coriolanus thinks she's fucking the Peacekeepers in the Capitol and 12.

Sejanus appeared, in another brand-new suit, with a rumpled little woman in an expensive flowered dress on his arm. It didn’t matter. You could put a turnip in a ball gown and it would still beg to be mashed.

Now I am just quoting all the awful stuff he thinks. But also I have never had mashed turnips? Why not say potato?

Tigris’s rebuke shocked him, but less than her alluding to behavior that might be considered a disgrace. What had she done? Because if she’d done it, she’d done it to protect him. He thought about the morning of the reaping, when he’d casually wondered what she had to trade in the black market, but he’d never really taken that seriously. Or hadn’t he? Would he have just preferred not to know what sacrifices she might be willing to make for him? Her comment was vague enough, and so many things were beneath a Snow, that he could say, as she had of Lucy Gray’s song, “Well, that could be anything.” Did he want to know the details? No. The truth was he did not.

So here's the thing about this: I think he doesn't want to know because then he would feel indebted to her, and he can't stand that. But... he is indebted to her. I know family is family and it's not the same as if some random stranger did it, but she gave up going to university so she could work to support him. I don't think he needs to pay her back or anything but he should be more... not grateful necessarily but just aware of what it took to get him here. He may think he just "deserves" all this (and that's a whole other issue) but it wasn't just given to him. She had to sacrifice.

That our ancestral home has gotten too large?

It's a dumb apartment, you weirdo. That is hooie! He bought this place in the 80s! /ben blanc

“The trouble with girls is, they’re not used to fighting the same way boys are,” said Hilarius. The Heavensbees were ultrarich, the way the Snows had been before the war. But no matter his advantages, Hilarius always seemed to feel oppressed.

I wonder if this sense of oppression made its way to Plutarch somehow and made him want to fight.

“The thing is,” Lysistrata whispered to Coriolanus, “I’ve become rather attached to Jessup.” She paused a moment, arranging the wrapping on a chunk of baked noodles and cheese. “He did save my life.” Coriolanus wondered what Lysistrata, who had been closer to him than anyone else in the arena, had seen when the bombs went off. Had she seen Lucy Gray save him? Was she hinting at that?

Okay here's the part where I begin to piss off the Snowbaird shippers. I think Lysistrata has more genuine feeling for Jessup than Snow does for Lucy Gray. I don't think it's romantic, but I do think it's more the appropriate reaction given the circumstances. Snow is all about ownership. I wish Lysistrata did see Lucy Gray save Snow and told everyone so he couldn't pretend it didn't happen.

[taxevasionpoll]

Hey there! Sorry it's been so long (if I put something down and don't look at it, it doesn't exist to my brain sdhkgshkghs. Also I am lazy).

Please keep in mind that I've not included any of the submitted characters who are children/teenagers except in the cases where they have canonically committed tax evasion/fraud or from their circumstances they are in a position to commit it.

this does not include chat noir cause i just really wanted him in the poll okay. i think it's funny. one exception for me as a treat.

I've also not included any of the real people submitted.

(Perhaps the characters who didn't get included can have their own poll after this. Yes, that includes Reigen. I stand by it - he doesn't commit tax evasion. He's too boring and normal for that.)

I will try to get the match-ups out by the end of the weekend.

Here are the round 1 match-ups:

Group 1 Yuuko Ichihara (XxxHolic) vs Chert (Outer Wilds)

Group 2 Robert Speedwagon (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) vs Yoshi (Mario)

Group 3 Spamton (Deltarune) vs Gru (Despicable Me)

Group 4 All for One (My Hero Academia) vs Haibara Ai (Detective Conan)

Group 5 Zanza (Xenoblade Chronicles) vs Byakuya Togami (Danganronpa)

Group 6 Dazai (Bungou Stray Dogs) vs Kazuki and Rei (Buddy Daddies)

Group 7 Aslan (The Chronicles of Narnia) vs Mr. Krabs (Spongebob)

Group 8 Neal Caffrey (White Collar) vs Kuroba Toichi (Magic Kaito 1412)

Group 9 Luffy (One Piece) vs Harlan Thrombey (Knives Out)

Group 10 Five Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy) vs Howl Pendragon (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Group 11 Ranpo (Bungou Stray Dogs) vs Nami (One Piece)

Group 12 Loid (Spy x Family) vs Sullivan (Mairimashita! Iruma-kun)

Group 13 All Might (My Hero Academia) vs Mokona (XxxHolic/Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle)

Group 14 Lex Luther (DC) vs Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

Group 15 Macavity (Cats! The Musical) vs Shallan (Stormlight Archives)

Group 16 Stanley Pines (Gravity Falls) The Doctor (Doctor Who) vs Eda the Owl Lady (The Owl House)

Group 17 Mister Compress (My Hero Academia) vs Barret Wallace (Final Fantasy 7)

Group 18 Grunkle Stan (Gravity Falls) vs The Duke (Why Raelina Ended up in the Duke’s Mansion)

Group 19 Undertaker (Black Butler) vs Maddie and Jack Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Group 20 Maya Fey (Ace Attorney) vs Shigure (Fruits Basket)

Group 21 Fai, Kurogane, Syaoran, and Princess Sakura (Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle) vs Darth Vader (Star Wars)

Group 22 Turnip (Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion) vs The Crystal Gems (Steven Universe)

Group 23 Chat Noir (Miraculous Ladybug) vs Toph Beifong (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

Group 24 Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs) vs Ciel Phantomhive (Black Butler)

[heavenlyhoundoom]

Knd x AWISC au part 12.

Hank: I suggest that Benedict and Linda switch their nice outfits to clothes they're not afraid to get dirty if they want to spend time outside.

Benedict: That's reasonable.

Linda: Okay, sir.

(The two go into separate bathrooms to get changed. Benedict changes into a plain grey shirt and gray pants with black suspenders while Linda changes into a black t-shirt with apples on it and says Apples as well as a pair of black, baggy pants.)

Carter: Are you guys are ready for some fun on the farm and in the woods?

Monty, Linda, and Benedict:(excited) Yeah!!!

Carter: (excited) Then, let's go!

(The three spend hours playing, they play hide and seek around the farm, played tag in the forest, skipped stones, played I spy, made piles of leaves and jumped into said piles, craved their names into a big tree, and raced back to the farm when it was time to help make dinner, just like when they were kids.)

Carter: It's time for me to gather ingredients for dinner.

Linda: What do you plan on making for dinner?

Carter: I plan on making root veggie stew, would you guys like to help me gather turnips, parsnips, and carrots for the stew?

Monty: Of course, we would.

Carter: Great, let's get to it.

(The four start gathering root veggies for the stew as Benedict starts to reminse on when he, Monty, and Linda helped Carter gather veggies for the first time.)

(September forth, seven years ago.(this was back when Linda was still a boy.)

Carter: Harvesting veggies is very easy, especially root veggies.

Jacob: Is harvesting root veggies really that easy?

Carter: Yep, all you have to do is pull at the leaves and the veggie pops out of the ground.

(Carter tugs on the leaves in front of him and pulls out a parsnip.)

Benedict: Woah, did you just pull that out of the ground?

Carter: Sure did.

Monty: That is so cool.

Carter: Thanks, Monty.

Monty: I wanna try.

Jacob: Me too.

(Monty and Jacob take turns pulling root veggies out of the ground.)

Carter: How about you take a crack at it, Ben?

Benedict: (nervous)Okay...

Carter: No need to be nervous, Ben.

(Benedict gets on his knees to try and pull out a turnip from the soil, he worries that he might break the leaves if he's not careful due to being part wolf, he manages to pull out the turnip without any trouble.)

Carter: You got it.

Benedict: I guess I did.

Jacob: It looked like you were concentrating there, Ben.

Benedict: I just didn't want to accidentally break the leaves.

Carter: Well you did a good job.

(By the time Benedict snapped back to the present, they had enough veggies for the stew.)

The end of part 12

[svartalfhild]

What’s your favorite High Fantasy Story?

Oh boy. What a big question. Buckle in; this is going to take a minute.

Okay, so as you might expect, it's very hard for me to say one particular story is my absolute favourite, especially considering how I engage with the genre across many different types of media, so let me talk about a few different stories arranged by medium.

Books

Obviously the works of Tolkien are high on my list of favourites. LOTR is the ur-story of Western high fantasy.

I've mentioned it many times before, but the Starlight & Shadows trilogy by Elaine Cunningham has always been a big favourite of mine and a very formative read for me when I was a preteen. If you like DnD, elves (esp. dark elves), and/or morally complicated female protagonists, this one is for you. It also has a romance between a wizard and a barbarian and incorporates lots of aspects of Forgotten Realms lore that take inspiration from Norse and Slavic mythology.

Film and TV

LOTR defs makes this list again. I am the Spiders Georg for Times Watched LOTR Movies.

The Witcher. "But Svar, why did you list this here and not under books?" Because the books are full of misogyny. Don't get me wrong, the books have good stuff, but the Netflix series got rid of a lot of the misogyny that I greatly dislike about the books (and games). I also just really enjoy the show in its own right. The Blood Origin miniseries spinoff is super good too and I'm sad it got no attention. Are there flaws? Yes. But I really like the story they're trying to tell and Slavic folklore doesn't get nearly enough interest in Western media.

The Mythica Films. This is a series of five indie fantasy films that are clearly inspired by DnD and they are the best indie fantasy movies I've ever seen. They tell the story of a young disabled woman talented with magic who finds out she's got dark powers and has to run for her life. Matt Mercer plays the main villain and weirdly enough, these movies were the first time I ever saw him, and I was actually wary of Critical Role at first because those movies gave me the odd impression that he's an edgelord, even though he's a very sweet person irl lol.

Honor Among Thieves is brand new, but it instantly won my heart as a favourite. How can it not? It's set in DnD's Forgotten Realms and is about platonic friends raising a child together while also being about whacky heist shit. A story after my silly aspec heart.

Games

Okay, I'mma have to restrain myself and give you top five here, because otherwise we're gonna be here all day.

The Baldur's Gate Saga. Fucking old but truly great. The OG. The 90's graphics might turn a lot of people off these days, which is unfortunate, because they are amazing games, especially with the Enhanced Editions and the new Siege of Dragonspear expansions. It's the story of an unwitting child of the God of Murder, and you can either embrace what you are, struggle against it, or try to ride the line. I personally find the struggle against one's blood and supernatural urges a much more compelling story. It's the struggle to become something other than what you were made to be while also being pulled towards your destiny and have to choose what to do with the power that is given to you. It is the struggle for your soul and the souls of those you love. It is a journey to the Hells and a rise from its ashes, and you have to choose what the phoenix looks like. Also there's a man who carries a miniature giant space hamster everywhere with him and a gnome obsessed with turnips, to name just a few of the incredibly silly aspects of the story.

The Elder Scrolls series. The worldbuilding in TES is amazing for the specific reason that it's such a fucking mess. The folks at Bethesda and Zenimax have taken the unique approach of building the lore like historians collecting a bunch of conflicting primary sources. That's fucking fascinating because it makes the world feel more realistic. The real world is full of conflicting information, especially regarding history, and we all have to decide what we think is true based on the information given to us. Also TES III: Morrowind in particular is the most game of all time. You can tell it was made by a bunch of freaks and it's creatively braver than many of the major RPGs that have come out since. Bethesda just went "what if we did a game about the land of the dark elves, and that land is full of mushroom trees and all the fauna is either some sort of unique reptile, insect, or jellyfish- no it's not underground- anyway, here's an epic story about destiny, revenge, cultural conflict, and the gods being deeply flawed- also there's a bit where you have to kill a giant jellyfish with a fork you got from a lizard man called Big Head".

The Dragon Age series. All things considered, DA is a pretty conventional high dark fantasy story, but it has enough of its own unique twists and interesting writing/worldbuilding to be special to me. Each game has a different protagonist and a different type of story, but there's some themes that are consistent across the series. I would say the central theme of DA is finding the strength to do what must be done, even though you never asked for the responsibility and by rights shouldn't even be here. I think that's really compelling if you're the kind of person who has dealt with a lot of imposter syndrome in your life.

The Pillars of Eternity games. I don't think PoE gets nearly enough love. It has rich, carefully crafted lore that gets into things that other series tend to half-ass, like the linguistic aspects of the worldbuilding. Across the two games, Obsidian really delves deep into difficult discussions about mental illness, the relationship between gods and mortals, the cycle of life and death, ethics in magic, the effects of imperialism, and trying to make huge decisions when the right answer isn't clear. Also the visual style of these games is impeccable, as is the music.

Neverwinter Nights. This is where my love of DnD began. I watched my uncle play this game when I was a kid and I instantly fell in love with its whole vibe. The main campaign might hit different these days, because the story involves a deadly plague and the protag has to recover the pieces of a potential cure while also uncovering cult shit. There's a whole betrayal/scapegoat thing going on that's super tragic. Anyway, pile this one on the list of reasons I grew up to be a DnD obsessed goth.

Other

If you follow me, you're probably familiar with how much I love the DnD actual play show Critical Role. I've been watching since 2016 and I'm forever amazed at the compelling stories the cast and the dice rolls have built across three campaigns now.

Black Dice Society is my other favourite DnD actual play show. It's Ravenloft, so it's a gothic horror/high fantasy fushion. It has two seasons and tells such a beautiful story about the struggle for love and power.