#i think that food drive was really closeby as well

[nom-de-plume-system]

as someone who almost went homeless many times in my childhood, who WAS homeless briefly as a kid, nearly went homeless many times in my teens AND nearly decided to run away and live on the streets in my adult years, FUCK the bamas that criminalize homelessness. They need to lose their home, eat shit and die.

I just want to say I have absolutely 0 sympathy whatsoever for anyone complaining about anything homeless people do. oh you saw human shit on the ground?? hmm maybe it's because THEY DONT HAVE A TOILET. oh you saw someone cleaning themselves in a public restroom? maybe because THEY DONT HAVE A FUCKING SHOWER. oh no a homeless person is living in a tent and you think it's ugly?? CRY ABOUT IT IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. oh my goodness homeless people sleeping on the ground and they're in your way!!!! yeah THEY DONT HAVE A BED

if seeing homeless people bothers you that much then good news! you have some choices! 1) let them all live with you in your house! 2) start pressuring your local government to stop criminalizing the homeless and start giving them financial and medical assistance! 3) shut the fuck up and die!

[songsformonkeys]

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x reader) - chapter 5

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty​ ]

pairing: whiskey x reader

warnings: none 

notes: Special thanks to @yespolkadotkitty​ for being the best cheerleader and for helping me find the Whiskey voice when Ezra was a little too keen on coming out to play <3

masterlist

Chapter 5 - AO3

Over the next few weeks, the staff of the medical department slowly but surely began coming back to the HQ as more and more civilians recovered from the injuries they had sustained during what Whiskey had begun referring to as the Worldwide Freak Out. That meant things were picking up speed in the department and there was more and more admin work for you to do. You didn't really mind. It was nice to have more stuff to do again. But there was a small part of you that was a bit disappointed by the fact that more work meant less time spent with Whiskey.

The agent in question had, as soon as the cast on his leg had come off, been given a rigorously crafted schedule for physical exercise to get him back on track and back to working again as soon as possible. He took his training sessions very seriously and you suspected it was mostly in a desperate attempt to stay one step ahead of the boredom. There was an old (and faulty myth) that all sharks had to keep swimming or else they would die. If that statement had been true, Whiskey would have been one of those sharks. He didn't do stationary life very well.

After a while, you had started to keep him company on his training sessions, bringing a book to read while he excercised. He never asked you to work out with him, seemed perfectly content with just having you sit crosslegged in your scrubs on the mat closeby and read. However, most days, you didn't get as much reading done as you would have liked. There was something too fascinating about the cowboy agent stretching his body into various yoga poses while still wearing his Stetson. At least he was wearing actual workout pants and not his usual blue jeans, you had thought to yourself more than once.

Even though Whiskey was recovering remarkably well, the workouts took their toll on him and by the time the 20 minute mark rolled around, he was always a little paler than when he'd started and his hands trembled slightly as he accepted the water bottle that he always kept next to you.

The first time you'd told him that you wouldn't be able to keep him company for that day's training session because of other work, he'd looked so disappointed that you had immediately changed your mind, figuring that tomorrow was just as good for writing, if not better even. It took three more tries before you could actually hold your ground against his pleading eyes, though you suspected that a visit from Vermouth might also have made Whiskey dial down the wounded puppy look a bit. After that, you only joined him on Tuesdays and Fridays.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little past lunch time. Your stomach had been complaining about the lack of food for the better part of an hour but you stubbornly ignored it in favor of finishing up your work.

You made a low but frustrated growl as you were interrupted by a knock on the door to your office.

“Come in!” you snapped, loud enough for the interruptor to hear through the door, but you continued typing on your keyboard. The door creaked as it opened.

“Whoa there, darlin', your mouth said enter but that tone of yours says maybe I shouldn't...” came the soft and slightly amused voice of Agent Whiskey. You quickly spun around in your chair to greet him.

“Whiskey!” you said, feeling something warm stir in your belly. Probably hunger. You smiled and a mirroring smile spread across his lips. He was leaning on his crutches and the slight slump to his shoulders told you that he was already tired, despite it only being mid day.

“Hiya, sugar. Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no. I was just finishing up,” you lied and waved him inside. As he hopped over to your desk, his eyes landed on the open document on the your screen, which was obviously nowhere near done. You quickly shut off the monitor. Whiskey didn't say anything, but the small smile on his lips looked smug.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, before he could comment on anything.

“Better now that I'm here,” he answered with a smarmy smile. You rolled your eyes at him.

“You do know that being in close proximity to a doctor isn't enough to heal you, right?” you teased.

“It's an hypothesis I'm willing to try,” he said in a dangerously low voice and leaned in. Your heart suddenly felt like it was beating in your throat, fast as a rabbit's. You knew that was physically impossible but swore that was what it felt like. Whiskey stopped, with a few inches to spare between your noses. “Hmm, as I suspected. Significantly better,” he said, with a grin.

“At what p-value?” you asked, voice barely more than a shrill whisper. Whiskey frowned.

“What?” he asked, his flirty smile giving way for confusion. You swallowed.

“You have to specify at what p-value the results are significant,” you explained.

“Oh, as high as it gets, honey,” Whiskey said, the flirty grin coming back with full force. You opened your mouth to protest but before you have a chance to, Whiskey pulled back and you could breathe again.

“I actually had a reason for coming over here, besides to interrupt your work,” Whiskey went on and leaned his hip against your desk.

Your voice still wasn't quite back to normal so you just raised your eyebrows as a response. Whiskey lowered his gaze, picked a little the handle of his crutch before looking up at you again.

“See I was hopin' that maybe you would let me make you dinner tomorrow night...”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Why?” he echoed.

“I mean, yes. That would be nice...Thank you.”

Whiskey beamed before chuckling.

“Well aren't you polite.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall, “I should get going, I have a meeting with Champ soon and it's gonna take me at least 15 minutes to hobble over there. But tomorrow it is!”

You nodded.

“Oh, and Moonshine?” he added.

“Yes?” you asked.

“No scrubs tomorrow, alright. This ain't a work-meeting.”

And with that, he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood outside of Whiskey's door the next evening and you didn't think you had ever felt this uncomfortable in your life. You had told Ginger about the dinner plans, the day before. She had offered to help you with the clothes and had then dragged you off to the Statesmen warderobe, where they held all the clothes that had been bought and used for various previous missions. You had told Ginger that you had perfectly good clothes in your room but she had just looked you up and down before simply stating that “Not for this occasion, you don't”. She hadn't specified what kind of occasion that was. And, standing outside of Whiskey's apartment in a pair of blue jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted on and wearing a gray top with a neckline that plunged so low that open heart surgery could probably have been performed on you without having to remove the top, you still weren't sure just what kind of occasion you had been dressed for.

Your sternum felt cold. You didn't think you had ever worn a shirt that made your sternum cold. You pulled a little on the fabric, feeling awkward, before reaching up to knock on the door.

Whiskey could be heard hopping on his crutches on the other side of the door.

“Moonshine, you're just in t...” Whiskey began as he pushed the door open but then he just stopped. His mouth fell open slightly and he just stared. You felt like turning around to run. Whiskey was wearing a clean white buttondown shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with his usual pair of jeans. He looked nice but he still looked like himself. Unlike you.

You waited patiently for the rest of Whiskey's sentence but it never came. You were a little tempted to wave your hand in front of him, just to make sure time hadn't stopped. But you could hear the radio playing somewhere in his apartment so it must just be you that were giving him pause.

“Hi,” you said, trying to help him back to the present, and it worked. Whiskey closed his mouth and  gave you a warm smile.

“Sorry, darlin'. It just caught this ol' cowboy by surprise seeing you in clothes other than those scrubs of yours.”

“You told me I wasn't allowed to wear them,” you reminded him.

“I did. And knowing you, I figured there was about a 50% chance that you would listen,” Whiskey laughed and took a small hop forward to give you a swift kiss of the cheek. His cheek was clean-shaven and smooth against yours and he was wearing cologne. “Welcome, sugar, I'm glad you could make it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is something the matter, darlin'?”

You stilled in your seat and stopped fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you were trying to make sure that is was still covering all the bits it was supposed to cover, even after you had reached for another piece of the truly amazing chicken that Whiskey had cooked for you.

You didn't immidiately answer. Didn't want to complain. Whiskey had prepared a fantastic meal, and had even brought out candles and a tablecloth for the occasion. He'd entertained you with stories from his travels and if there was anything agent Whiskey was good at, it was telling a good story. Normally, you would have been completely entralled, but tonight you couldn't quite focus. And Whiskey had noticed.

“You've been pulling at that shirt of yours for the better part of the evening,” he continued when you didn't answer him, “And while that would usually be enough to drive any man crazy, I feel like I should ask... would you be more comfortable in a different shirt? I'd be more than happy to lend you something.”

You only hesitated for a second before nodding, feeling a little bit like a child by the fact that you apparently couldn't even dress yourself for one night out of your scrubs. Whiskey only seemed pleased by your answer, however, and he stood from the table and gestured for you to follow him into the bedroom.

You had never been in Whiskey's bedroom last time you were here so now you seized the opportinity to look around. The better part of the room was taken up by a huge bed, with a wooden bedframe that almost looked homemade. The sheets were dark blue and the bed was meticulously made. Atop of one of the bedposts hung his lasso. There was wooden closet pushed up against one of the walls and it matched the material of the bedframe. A pair of brown cowboy boots hade been kicked off into one of the corners and on a hook on the wall hung a bathrobe with the pattern of the american flag. It looked soft. The whole room was so Whiskey it was almost hilarious. The only things missing would have been a small bar and a hat rack full of Stetsons.

Whiskey emerged from the closet with a simple white t-shirt that he held up for your inspection.

“Will this fit the lady's preferences?” he asked and you nodded without really looking. Any shirt would be better than the uncomfortable mess you were currently wearing. Whiskey handed you the shirt with a teasing grin.

“I suppose sticking around to make sure is out of the question?”

You snatched the shirt from his hand and held it to your chest as you slapped his arm with your other hand. Whiskey just laughed.

“I'll be out in the kitchen then. Just holler if you need me,” he said with a wink before disappearing from the room and closing the door behind him. You waited for a few seconds, not entirely trusting that he wouldn't conveniently remember something that he just had to tell you now, before you changed.

The t-shirt was about a 100 times more comfortable than your own top and you no longer had to worry about any bodyparts escaping whe you moved. The shirt also smelled of Whiskey, which you had to admit, was an added bonus, even if you weren't sure exactly why.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

After dinner, you helped Whiskey clean up. Not because he asked you but because you had noticed his shoulders beginning to slump  from overexertion by the end of the meal, even though he put on a brave face trying to cover it up.

He protested when you told him you'd do the dishes, but you could hear that he only half meant it and when you began filling up the sink with water, he just picked up a towel and told you that he'd help dry the things you cleaned.

You didn't talk much while you worked and it was quite nice. You caught Whiskey watching you out of the corner of his eye more than once and every time you assured him that it's fine and that you didn't mind doing the dishes.

“That's not...” he began but he didn't finish the sentence and you didn't push.

When the dishes were done, Whiskey told you that he'd be walking you back to your room. This time it was your turn to protest, telling him that it was fine, that you could find your way home on your own and that he should rest instead.

“I'm walking you back to your room,” Whiskey told you again, in a voice that left zero room for discussion. You knew a lost cause when you saw one and so you just sighed.

“Fine, but don't complain to me when you're tired and sore tomorrow.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep, sugar,” was Whiskey's only reply and you frowned, not quite understanding what he meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It took twice as long for you to walk back to your room with Whiskey, as it had taken to walk over to his place without him. Whiskey's jaw was tightly clenched as he slowly limped forward with his crutches. You stopped and pretended that you had to retie your shoelaces, twice, to give him short breaks that you knew he would refuse to ask for.

When you reached the door to your room, his lips were almost worryingly pale, but when he saw your frown he gave you a warm smile.

“Don't start working just yet, darlin'. You're still off the clock,” he said.

“Your lips are very pale,” you told him.

“Maybe they're just cold?” he countered, with a pout. You rolled your eyes and shook your head with a smile.

“Goodnight, Whiskey. This was really nice,” you said instead, and you meant it. This had been a really great evening and you were glad that he had invited you over, even if the doctor part of your brain wished that he hadn't made such a fuzz and instead had opted for something simpler that required less energy from him. Whiskey smiled softly at you.

“It was, wasn't it...” He trailed off, looking like he wanted to say something more.

“What?” you prompted him and he looked up and met your gaze. His impossibly soft brown eyes held your eyes for a moment before he looked down with an almost shy smile.

“Oh darlin', I'm just debating whether or not to push my luck this evening,” he said but you were still confused. This wasn't quite following the usual script for saying goodnight.

“Moonshine,” Whiskey said, his voice unusually serious as he leaned forward slightly on his crutches, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the plastic of the handles, “Tonight has been magical and I'm fully aware I should pull in my horns before I get greedy... but Honey...Darlin...you know I'm sweet on ya and... a better man than me would wish you sweet dreams and walk away. But I'm not that better man and I can't help but hope for just a little more...”

“Oh?” you said, blinking. You know I'm sweet on ya... You know I'm sweet on ya... You knew Whiskey was fond of you, that he cared for you. He'd shown that in a hundred different ways. But that kind of fondness wasn't what he was confessing to now, if his whole body language and the hestitation behind every word was anything to go by. No, this was something else, something more, and he thought you already knew. You felt a little lightheaded.

“A little more of what?” you asked, just to be sure, and Whiskey let out a breath you hadn't noticed he'd been holding. A hopeful smile began spreading across his lips.

“Well, with lips like those, maybe a kiss would be a good place to start?” he suggested and your stomach did a flip.

“I've never kissed anyone before,” you said and it came out sounding almost a bit hostile, like you were daring Whiskey to make the wrong comment in response. You'd seen other people's reactions when you'd previously mentioned your lack of experience and while you weren't entirely sure exactly what response you did want from him, you knew that pity wasn't it.

Whiskey looked surprised for a moment but then he quickly recovered.

“I'd be thrilled as any man can be to be your first, if you'd let me,” he said.

You nodded and stepped forward, figuring that since he was the injured one, he should get to remain stationary for this. Besides, you knew... in theory, how this was done. Whiskey made a surprised laugh when you gripped the front of his shirt with both hands to pull him in those last couple of inches. The laugh was cut short when your mouth pressed against his.

His lips were soft as velvet and the mustache tickled your upper lip. There was a deafening clatter in the empty corridor as one of Whiskey's crutches fell to the floor. A second later, his hand curved around the back of your neck and his lips began moving against yours. An unfamiliar heat pooled low in your belly and you gripped Whiskey's shirt a little tighter to steady yourself.

When you both finally pulled back, an eternity and at the same time not long enough later, Whiskey looked at you as if you'd hung the Moon.

“How was that?” he asked and, despite the cocksure smile on his face, there was a faint note of genuine worry to his tone of voice.

“I would like to do that again sometime,” you told him. Whiskey beamed and the smile was bright enough that it could probably have lit up all of Kentucky. He leaned in for another, and to your disappointment, much quicker kiss.

“I'd be happy to help with that,” he said when he pulled back. Your cheeks felt warm and somehow you knew that if you didn't go inside your room now, you'd ask Whiskey to come with you and he was not well enough for that.

So you blurted out a quick goodnight and before Whiskey could get a reply in, you hurried into your room and closed the door. With your ear pressed against the metal, you thought you could hear a faint chuckle before Whiskey left.

You reached up to touch your lips. You just kissed Whiskey.

[krisrix]

Kris! (ops sorry do you mind if I call you that? It's in your username so I assumed it's fine? so so sorry if it's not) YOUR WRITING IS PHENOMENAL AND OMG YOUR ART?? HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO FUCKING TALENTED AND GOOD OMG I ADORE EVERY WORD ON YOUR AO3 AND PRACTICALLY WORSHIP ALL YOUR DRAWINGS HNNG IT'S UNREAL OKAY. I'm just rereading So This Is Christmas (I already read it like fuckilion times....I know...I'm disturbed) but I wanted to ask... What's your fave snowbaz fic/art you have ever done?

Calling me Kris is all good! 👍

You are SO SWEET, what the heck, thank you so so so much 😭

What a lovely message to wake up to!!! I’m really glad the Christmas fic has been so re-readable for you! That means a heck of a lot to me, 🖤

My fav snowbaz fic/art I’ve done… What a great question! I’m notoriously bad at valuing my own creations, so this is pretty hard. And since I’m incapable of answering a simple question with a simple answer…

Below the cut is an extremely overly-detailed explanation of my choices, along with a deep-dive into all the research I did for “So This Is Christmas” ⬇

Let’s start with the art:

I liked a few of the Inktobers I did, perhaps particularly because they’re not my usual method, and therefore I’m mentally filling in the blanks on what it ideally could look like, had I done it digitally… (As opposed to my digital stuff, which always falls short, in my eyes.) (At least this way I’m giving myself the benefit of the doubt haha…)

So, I’ll narrow it down to these three:

Wait, I lied, I also really like this one (mostly for the concept/potential):

Sorry, these are such weird choices! 😂🤦‍♂️

As far as for my fave fics I’ve written… that one’s hard, too! I get embarrassed by my writing, worried about my characterization, and torment myself by basting in the fear of being seen, etc…

I think I’ll have to go with “So This is Christmas”, with “What Stays and What Fades Away” as a close second.

WS&WFA is also a super niche choice… and while Wayward Son means that pretty much none of the characterizations are “correct” any longer, I’m still proud of it as a piece of storytelling because it was my first time writing anything bigger than “just” a romance. There are a lot of moving parts to that fic, all of which I was incredibly strung out about. I’m not saying it’s the best or anything, but I’m pleased I managed to accomplish what I did! (There was a lot of research that went into this fic, too—where Baz was being kept, etc—but I’ll spare you.)

The Christmas fic I definitely feel pretty good about, though! It’s a whirlwind, and I struggled a lot with trying to balance “is this too much? is this not enough?”. It’s difficult to get such a mule-headed character to bend his ways so quickly while his whole world-view comes crashing down! There are likely many ways I could have done it more successfully, but I think it came together all right.

I also did an embarrassing amount of research on that fic, which should maybe induce more shame than it does pride, 😂

Originally I was going to tuck them someplace up north in a semi-secluded motel. It still had the same story beats: Mage walks in on them; they run away (no teleporting—just legging it for the rail station, with Baz withdrawing whatever he could from a cash machine); all the phone conversations; slowly Simon falls in love; they decide to go back. The struggle was trying to come up with things they could do together other than just fighting in the motel room all day… And then WS came out and gave us more motel heartbreak than any of us signed up for, so I considered it a sign that I should scrap that idea!

I went hard the other direction instead. I figured, well hey, Baz is That Bitch and would totally drain his bank account to have this one holiday of bliss with Simon. And so then the idea of snooker came to mind. And Christmas markets (that would be open on the 22nd). And it would have to be in Hampshire, since I committed to the teleportation-escape idea, and I needed a way for them to get to Baz’s house fairly quickly…

And so my hunt for a central spot that could fulfill my ever-growing list of demands began.

Every location they go to is real. They take the cab to Winchester, hit up the Barclays and Enterprise and then circle back to the McDonald’s that Simon spotted:

That particular Enterprise offers a blue Mercedes C Class, so I went under the assumption that they have carried that make and model of automobile long enough for Baz to have rented it in 2014. Here’s the 2013 model, which is what I figure he got:

Then they drive to New Forest and stay at the Chewton Glen Hotel and Spa. All of the activities they do, all the food they eat—it’s all real stuff on offer there (as of my research in 2019). That includes the little 10-minute walk to the beach! Here’s the view of the back, which is where their room looked out upon the croquet lawn:

And here’s a few photos of the place overall:

I wanted them to have a white Christmas (Simon even makes a mention of it early on…), but the weather there in December 2014 was too warm! So instead they went to the beach~

Their day out is in Southampton at the Westquay shopping centre. The esplanade is converted into an ice rink in the winter. In the pic below, you can see the shopping centre on the left, the medieval wall remnants on the right, and the Alpine Bar is tucked in the back of the rink (where you see the warm yellow light).

Here’s the map of the overall area:

There’s a Hugo Boss store inside the shopping centre, which is where Baz gets all this for Simon:

And the Southampton Christmas market that they walk to is very closeby. All of the stalls and vendors they check out are real (for 2018, anyway—that’s as far back as I could find). So the gifts are all things they really could have picked up there~

I’m probably forgetting stuff, but that’s the gist! As it is, this is undoubtedly way more information than anyone needed, 🙃 

Fun fact: in mid-December, I spent a few days in London and then went to Nottingham for my sister’s graduation (got her masters!). I was supposed to be doing research on what things we would want to do while there, but I kept getting my wires crossed with all the fic research, 😂

I was extremely excited that we stumbled upon a Christmas market in Nottingham! It was lovely (and the mulled wine was great).

Sorry for bombarding you with all this when you surely just wanted a simple answer, Anon… Thank you for entertaining my ramblings!!! And for the truly wonderful comments about my fics/art, 🖤 I really really appreciate it!

(I’m still considering posting that epilogue chapter… it was half-written when I gave up on it. Who knows!)

[sariahsue]

The Open Line - Chapter 13, Food

Ladybug knows that if it weren’t for Adrien, she would have fallen for Cat Noir, hard and fast. And when Oblivio takes her memory, she does just that. Able to keep her memory after the Oblivio incident but still unaware of Cat Noir’s real identity, Ladybug must deal with her growing feelings for her partner, who is desperately trying to win her over. (Rated PG.)

Read Chapter One Here Read Chapter Twelve Here

***

Marinette had spent the whole Sunday in the bakery. The chill in the air seemed to drive people to seek out warm bread, so they had been exceptionally busy today, but it was late afternoon and the rush had died down, and she was going to finally get a break. Which she was going to spend on her phone. Cat Noir hadn't texted her all day, and she'd been meaning to ask if he was okay.

"Marinette," her father asked. "Could you bring these back as you leave? I'll get the rest later." He handed her an enormous mixing bowl overflowing with bread, cookies, muffins, and croissants, too old to sell.

"Sure." Marinette hoisted it onto her hip and walked into the kitchen. It was a shame that they'd have to throw it out. Most of it was still good, just a little stale. As she walked through the doorway, Cat Noir's ringtone began to play.

"Finally!" she whispered. She ran the rest of the way into the kitchen, tossing the bowl onto the counter and pulling her phone from the pocket of her apron. She caught her expression in the reflective surface of the stove, a goofy smile, cheeks dusted with pink and flour. Coupled with just how excited she was to get a message from him, there was really no denying what was happening.

Her heart sank when she read the short message. He was upset, and he needed her. He must have be feeling completely awful if it had kept him from texting her all day. It had better not be his father again. Cat Noir had barely said anything about him, but she already didn't like that man. Marinette didn't need to consider her course of action. She knew immediately what she wanted to do.

Marinette: I'll be at 17 Rue Gotlib in five minutes. Hold on, Kitten! 

He'd know where that was. The location of their "date" after fighting Glaciator a few months ago. It might not hold the happiest memories for him, but it was closeby, and even with the five minute timer ticking, she would be able to get there before him and set up, make it look welcoming, be waiting for him when he arrived.

She raced through the house, flinging off her apron, grabbing a basket and her favorite blanket, and rushing back to the kitchen to grab the leftovers and say goodbye to her parents. Picnic basket banging against her leg, she ran down the street to find a good hiding spot. Her eyes raked the skyline to their meeting place and landed upon golden hair and two black ears. She was ahead of schedule, but he had still beaten her there. He must live nearby, she realized.

As soon as her feet touched the roof a few seconds later, Ladybug found herself engulfed in a hug. Cat Noir sank into her, burying his face into her shoulder. She hadn't even retracted her yoyo yet. She wanted to hug him back, wrap him up so nothing could ever hurt him again, but she couldn't, not with one arm strung out to a distant building and the other dragged down by the basket.

"Could you let go for a s-"

Cat Noir leaped away from her like she had screamed at him. As quickly as she could, she set the basket down and grabbed him, squeezing him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly, not letting go until she felt some of the tension leave him. When she finally stepped back, she took a good look at his face. His cheeks were splotchy, and his eyes were bloodshot. She wanted to cry in sympathy.

"Why didn't you text me sooner?" she asked.

He shrank back, though she hadn't said it harshly. "Sorry. I- I probably shouldn't have. I should just g-" He turned away to leave.

"No." She grabbed him, her cheek pressing into his back. "You did the right thing. You need to let me know when you're upset."

He'd probably been marinating in his self-pity all day. Why hadn't he just let her know he needed help?! And what on earth was wrong? Whatever it was, she hated it for hurting her partner. When she finally let him go, her irritation must have seen been displayed across her face, because he shrunk away from her.

When was this boy going to let her help him, instead of flinching away from her? Now was not the time to address it though, so she swallowed her irritation and smoothed out her expression.

"Help me with the blanket?"

Cat Noir looked down and finally saw what she'd brought. "Nice quilt."

It wasn't really. The patterns didn't match and the squares were uneven and the stitches were so bad that the overstuffed batting was poking through in several places, but it was thick and warm and she loved it. "Thanks. I worked hard on it."

"You made this?"

"It was my very first project."

"Oh. Nice."

As he bent to pick up the quilt, Ladybug frowned. He normally would have been jumping up and down to learn something personal about her, which is why she'd shared that detail, but he'd barely sounded interested. Her plan to feed him and spend an hour or two with him would have to be supplemented somehow if she wanted to cheer him up.

"What's in the basket?" He grabbed the blanket and lifted it off the top, revealing the treats underneath.

"Just the necessities," she said, grabbing a corner of the quilt and motioning to a spot against the metal railing for them to sit. "What do you want first? I've got cookies, scones, some bread?"

Cat Noir plopped down onto the blanket and stared at his knees.

"Cat?" Ladybug sat next to him and put the basket at their feet. "Or we could just sit for a few minutes?"

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, his hair tickling her cheek, his breathing shaky. They stayed that way for several minutes, until he couldn't seem to keep himself upright anymore and put his head on her lap, curling the rest of himself up next to her. His tail draped over her legs. Cold October air swirled around them on the roof, kept at bay by the warmth they shared as they cuddled together. She held him for a few minutes, until his breathing evened out and he started to shift restlessly, and she reminded him that she'd brought dinner.

"You didn't need to," he said, straightening.

"I wanted to." Ladybug handed him the biggest cookie and the flakiest croissant she could find. Wind cut through her suit, making her shiver, and she huddled closer to Cat Noir for warmth. He noticed and folded the bottom edge of the blanket up until it covered her feet. Even though he was hurting so deeply, he was taking care of her, and she felt herself fall a little more.

"I know why you're doing all this," he said, wrapping an arm around her.

"I'd have that that was obvious. I want to-"

"Make me fall in love with you. Clearly."

"What?" She jerked away from him, but the arm around her waist and its siren warmth easily drew her back in.

"Easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Your wily plans won't work on me, LB. I know your devious tricks." His tone was listless, completely lacking his usual humor.

"More like you can't fall for me harder than you already have," she said.

"Maybe." He smiled very faintly, a shadow of what she was used to, and it sparked an idea.

"I can't tell you what that does to my ego," she said, fanning herself, "having a famous superhero hitting on me all the time." It might be crossing a line, but she already too far, so she added, "A really hot one."

Face red, he grabbed another muffin and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth so he could avoid looking at her. "Are you sure I'm the only person in love here?" he finally asked.

She was sure he was not.

"Because you're the one who asked me out to dinner," he continued.

She glanced at the half-empty basket, panicking. Flirting was one thing, but she didn't want to give him false hope by accidentally asking him out. "That's not what this is."

"Really? Then why did you choose this spot? I think you're trying to win me over."

Ladybug shoved another croissant into his mouth to shut him up. He chuckled around his mouthful of food and drew her closer, until they were pressed together from shoulder to hip to ankle.

Was that really why? Had she chosen this place because she was trying to recreate their first "date"? Was she feeding him because she wanted, subconsciously, to secure his feelings for her? She was still trying to decide how she felt about him! The last thing she needed right now was for him to fall harder for her. But logic could not silence the quiet voice of Yes! Love me! Please love me more! 

How was it that so much of their relationship had changed, but it still felt so much the same? They had always talked and laughed together and had their inside jokes. Their bond of trust was forged on day one and had been steadily getting stronger every day for over a year, so that wasn't new.

How was everything the same when it was so wonderfully different?

A gust blew autumn leaves from the street into their faces, and Ladybug giggled to see one stuck in Cat Noir's hair. Well, the giggling and blushing were new, but enjoying his company and wanting to be near him was not.

How?

She plucked the leaf from his hair, then tickled his nose with it, until he twitched and blew it away, his smile still dim, but stronger than it had been all night.

As she tucked herself back into his side, she knew how. Losing her memory hadn't created any new feelings for her partner. It had just let her see them clearly for the first time.

Read Chapter Fourteen Here

***

Author's note: Phew! I wasn't even sure I was going to get this done for tonight. The first draft of this chapter was such a pain and I was super busy the last few days. You'll be getting two or three chapters next week. They'll both/all be short and (now that Marinette's no longer in denial) very mushy.

[tsar3na]

Sunrise and Dusk

Fandom: Festival di Sanremo RPF (Amadello) Words: 1682 Notes: This was a fanfic I’ve been working on for a while and debating whether or not to post about it on Tumblr. But I guess I’ve done this sort of thing before so I bit the bullet and did it anyway. It was supposed to be a one-shot but my planning decided to go to more than ten chapters so there’s that. For now, I’ll post the first chapter here then the rest on Archive of Our Own so please support me there, thank you. Ao3 link: [here]

i - Mattina

Days have been a blur for years. Things had a harmonious monotony to them. Fiorello will wake up at 6am, always on time, by an old flip-phone. Take time to say his morning prayers. Clean his body and think of the day ahead. When he doesn’t have a service in the morning, a hot coffee and bread roll can rejuvenate him until lunch. After cleaning his plates, he chooses from a selection of plain polo shirts or turtlenecks paired with smart trousers and shoes. 

A small brown and white cat would leap onto his balcony at the dot and of course, Fiorello will take a can of tuna and give it all to her. Once done, he cycles to the church, passing by the numerous buildings, towards the open market closeby. He’s usually the first to arrive so he’s responsible for opening the church and doing light cleaning inside and out. He is not quite a priest - all he does is officework from paperwork to phone calls asking for visits. Yet he’s an integral part of the church, going around the community and volunteering just for a simple “Grazie”.

Around the afternoon, he goes gets ingredients for dinner and catches up to fellow friends along the way. Then he heads home, looking back at the sun crack its warm tones around the sky as it starts to settle. His food is also simple, perhaps saving some for the next day. For entertainment, he opens an old TV and catches up on current affairs. At exactly half past 10 is he ready for bed, ready to wake up the next day and do this all over again.

Rarely does this ever change.

He never suspects a surprise package, or a phone call from a stranger announcing a journey he has been requested to join. His family hasn’t spoken to him for years, not even knowing of the new leaf he has turned. In his youth, he has fallen in love but he’d never reciprocate the feelings in return, so unlikely that he’ll suddenly fall in love again. Was it boring? He didn’t think so. But sometimes, when he looks out, he sees life in people’s windows. Of family, of joy, of tears, of life. Yet he can’t complain, he thinks, as others have had it worse. He has had it worse. Compared to what had used to happen, this was just but a dream. Now in his growing ages, perhaps a man was ready to settle down. Still, he can’t always escape the past he had buried and lied about, a past in which no one knew his name. If only something had happened, something breathtaking that was fresh, unexpected, beyond something that will challenge his whole philosophy.

Nevertheless the alarm rings at 6am.

Thursday morning was looking to be cloudy but break skies before noon. His radio played classic tunes from his childhood as the cat purred on his patio table. Fiorello wanted to change something hence buying a new brand of tuna for her. The cat didn’t have any markings relating to an owner, so he baptised her with the name Ciuri. Sometimes he would joke to himself that she is more akin to a partner or a child, masking some sort of looming insecurity. His phone rang. That was odd - there was barely anyone that he had given his number to. Must be serious.

“Hello? This is Rosario speaking.” he answered.

“Ah, I’m glad I got the right one this time.” the voice on the other line cheered, “Listen it’s Roberto. I’m calling you because there seemed to be a leak in the church. Small leak. Very small. It’s flooding the floor. Okay, big leak. Very large.”

“Oh my goodness, really? Are you okay? Is everything safe?”

“Yes, yes, we saved the important bits. And don’t worry, your area isn’t affected. But the altar and nave are badly flooded so I had to close the church for a while.”

“Oh dear…”

“Emergency closing, I do not know when it will be open again.”

He paced up and down his small kitchen, his anxiety growing, “When will it be fixed? Do we have the funds? Last time I checked, we might but I don’t know if this one we can handle.”

“Don’t worry about all this, I’ve talked to the local offices and they should help us. Listen all you need to do is relax for a few days, get some sun. You’ll know when everything will be back to normal.”

The anxiety immediately turned into panic; “Wait, hold on, what do you mean? I don’t know what to do!”

Beep.

Suddenly his plans have been ruined. Fiorello was about to cycle to work but I guess he has no work to even go to now. This sort of disruption never once came into his mind. Since taking on the job, he refuses to take days off. Even when ill, he would try to march in at least before being sent back to rest. He had never prepared what he might do for a day of just himself. “Okay relax, we can do this.” he thought and very much not relaxing. Ciuri meowed for food. At least this he knew what to do.

He moved from Catania around 25, 26 years ago yet only a handful of times has he really travelled around the village. He had to stay in Sicily, there was no chance he would return and work in the cities further on. The place had a charm to it, powered by the people around. Its history of medieval architecture made it a hotbed for tourists, but during the colder months they were little to none. When he first settled in, he had made a crude list of places he would have liked to go to but never did. Today, he grabs that paper from the cupboard he refuses to touch and was thankful his list was fairly short:

Meet and befriend a stranger

Do something new

That’s it

Even looking at two simple tasks, he was already discouraged. Obviously he has done it before with colleagues and neighbours, but it’s been years since he has made a connection with someone brand new. The rest seemed like dreamy bullshit he thought of as a teen when he decided he wanted to get married to his 3rd highschool sweetheart.

No time is best to break his normal life than now. He waved Ciuri goodbye and headed off with his trusted bike.

To start this new thought of life, he veered from his typical path and into the idyllic green landscape. The views were always spectacular from his window but it was a whole other feeling viewing it from below. Waves of flora stretched as far as the eye can see, scattered with farm animals and a fence or two. The air was getting warmer as the morning began to settle in. He felt the breeze through his body, whispering to him thoughts of change. Maybe tomorrow he will cycle through that path, or he can slow down there and see what was inside the tree. It never felt so good making these small and insignificant choices. Or even trying to make sure his bicycle does not suddenly collide with the parked car just metres ahead of him. If his eyes were closed at the moment, he would be doing one impressive front flip and crashing down onto the dirt. Thankfully screaming seemed to have alerted Fiorello and prevented any sort of trip to the hospital from happening. The man near the car seemed worried, no surprise, and kept asking if he was okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Fiorello kept yelling out. “I just, I usually don’t expect cars here, and I was not paying proper attention so I nearly dented your car.”

“Ahh well nothing you can do about it. This old thing has been through so much not even a hammer can stop it from moving.” the stranger boasted.

This man was someone he had never seen before. His clothing screamed tryhard to look younger than he is and the hat casted a nice shadow over it. Without being rude, all Fiorello can tell was his large nose and fox-like eyes. Seemed to be around his age too, albeit maybe showing more signs of wear and tear. As he kept waffling on about his car, all he could look at was how he had a certain smile on his face. It was mesmerising to say the least.

“Anyway so I got lost and tried to find some signal but couldn’t and then you nearly got killed. And now we’re talking.” Wait was he dazing off. He didn’t notice how he kept going on. “Mind giving me some help then? Hotel or something similar. You can hop in if you point to me around.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. What about my bicycle?” he asked, getting back into reality.

“You can just throw that in the back, I don’t care.” They both got in the car as the man started to ignite the engine and Fiorello tried his best to shove the wheels in as best as he could.

“By the way, I haven’t caught your name. Are you a local?”

“I’m Rosario Fiorello. And you?”

He shook his hand briefly. “Amedeo Sebastiani. Most people just call me Amadeus. Intercontinental reporter.” and started to drive.

“A reporter? Nothing that interesting ever happens around here. Nothing that you could notice from the outside anyway. So, what is your intention?”

“I’m mainly here on holiday. I run a travel blog and I’m just wanting to tell my readers some quaint spots around Sicily. It’s kind of embarrassing, I’m a traveller that gets lost a lot so you can see why I say I’m a reporter first. Anyways...”

“That’s interesting.” he glanced then looked out the window. Amadeus did not stop talking for the whole ride. Only now came in his mind why he let himself in a stranger's car. But he guessed, considering the man’s excitement, he’ll be staying around for a while.

[sharpen-jadescythe]

1, The Ultimate Huntsman

((OOC’ly, this story explains the warrior, plate-wearing version of Moon Guard Sharpen.))

Sharpen has lost his beloved pet bear. But, it then drives him to do something unbelievable for a hunter…

After losing Bashti, what Sharpen sensed was the first personal tragedy of many he would face as a hunter… Of course there was Teldrassil, of course! And guilt welled up in him then, that he would mourn a bear—dare to mourn a mere bear, a beast, in the face of all that horrific loss…

Sharpen did what he supposed most hunters do after losing a pet. Or most soldiers do when they lose a battle, a friend. He drank. He called his old buddies together. They raised drinks in Booty Bay and were solemn, then joked around a little, then got rowdy and ran outside in the rain and swam in the murky bay itself, laughing. Someone, Soren... something (it didn’t matter who when he was feeling like this, did it ever?) made a romantic offer, to take him home and cheer him some other way. It was tempting, a part of him felt desperate, far beyond his control.

“I… I can’t.”

“I truly don’t mind if you’re sad, Sharpen. In fact, that’s why I offered—”

“I have to go. You don’t understand… Th-thank you, but… I just… ”

And he left. Whoever he was, the man was beautiful. But Sharpen felt like he needed to escape in a worse way, flee from the palm trees and flowers around them, the full pale moon, the compassionate stars that still wanted to shine, over their heads leaning together in that last embrace of the night. No. Sharpen wanted to tear out of paradise.

The next morning, alone, Sharpen lost it and broke down. He wept in the bath. So Sharpen finally sought out other hunters. He thought they would lecture him about how he didn’t protect his bear from the enemy, didn’t take the right shot in time, that he would be facing what felt like his final shame when it came to Bashti. And there were so many trophies and skulls along the walls of Trueshot Lodge. There with vibrant and spectacular weapons of their profession. Life and death mingled together. A way out, a way over it, Sharpen was beginning to see it.

Only within the sanctity of Trueshot Lodge, in Highmountain, did Sharpen request to have a memorial service. For an animal. They burned what was left of Bashti and scattered the bear's ashes along the mountainside of the most beautiful place that Sharpen had ever visited. He had dreamed of getting Bashti strong enough to face the great challenges any hunter or hunter’s companion would be able to face one day. On those sacred peaks.

Sharpen knew that he was in deep grief when he could no longer reach his thoughts. He sat on the precipice and looked out into the mists rising beneath Highmountain. He smelled what there was to smell. The pine, the resin of the trees. The hint of snow always on the horizon. And took note of what the local birds were doing on that morning. Who was fussing over what nut, among the hierarchy of squirrels who squabbled over their trees. And meat. Someone was already up and cooking at this hour. Probably something they hunted in the night. Among hunters, that was almost some brag... ‘Look at me, look at what I got in the dark of night, with my bare hands...’ Wasn’t he hungry? His mind was now like animal’s, Sharpen idly noted that as well. He couldn’t really take anything else in. Just base impressions, impulses. Fear, anger, jealousy. Not much else. A part of him refused to really think. Or, he knew that he couldn’t.

“You’ll be hungry soon.”

Seeing big ole’ Rexxar standing there would have been the greatest shock of any hunter’s life. And Sharpen had gone through that himself, about a year before. But he was pretty friendly with Rexxar himself these days. And Rexxar was a fellow lover of Highmountain. He and Sharpen and plenty of other hunters frequented the sacred peaks.

“So that food’s for me?”

For some reason, Rexxar taking a seat nearby him felt like Strangethorn Vale, the beach near Booty Bay some… days? Weeks before? Sharpen had lost count.

“No. I hunted and caught it myself. You go get your own.”

The sass in Rexxar’s voice nudged Sharpen out of his blurred mood. Some.

“Well. You know I love to cook for you, Roarin.”

And there was that, between them. So, Rexxar most likely heard about the memorial for Bashti, come around to check on him. Feeling the half-Orc man’s warmth closeby his own body again was deeply soothing. How different than that one lonely, panicked night in Stranglethorn...

Some men could do that? I suppose if anyone could, it would be the magnificent Rexxar...

It was hard for Sharpen to say the bear’s name. One of his first beloved hunter pets. “I could have protected… her better.”

“No, you couldn’t.” And Rexxar spoke with authority, he’d suffered his own great losses when it came to animal companions. “You are only an animal too, or did you forget?”

“Rexxar, I make these powerful weapons. I’m a blacksmith, did I ever tell you much about it? There are so many weapons and, and this armor I can forge. But I can’t wear half of it, or use it. It drives me crazy!”

Rexxar remained steady on his logical path, “Life, or death. Even the animals understand this. Nature is a constant struggle.”

“IS IT NATURAL?!” Sharpen heard himself shouting at Rexxar himself, yes he was shouting at Rexxar of all people, “What the fel more can I possibly do? Whatever it is, I’m not doing it, I’m not even close—” Sharpen’s voice now echoed off the stone peaks.

[mothercetrion]

Can you please do blackabal otp meme please

i LOVE blackabal. thank you for the ask!!

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop? Erron does the rocking. It’s a miracle they’re even up there because Kabal isn’t a huge fan of heights. Erron rocks the seat to freak him out, but he’ll stop eventually.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time? They both have high sex drives, but they know they can’t just stop what they’re doing to have sex. If he’s able, then Erron will pick a place to have sex, and it’s usually outside the bedroom. He’s adventurous.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time? Kabal is secretly a huge bath guy. He loves the hot water that relaxes him… and cleanses him from a day of dealing with Kano. He convinces Erron to join him, and he’s a bath guy too now! Erron tries often to make it sexy, and Kabal can’t resist him sometimes…

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on? Erron tends to take off his clothes a lot if he’s able to. He gets hot easily and doesn’t care to be naked. Kabal isn’t that comfortable doing that and asks that Erron at least put on some pants.

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight? Erron. He would rather Kabal have their comfier bed if he’s upset. In addition, he needs the time to himself to chill out. He eventually goes back to the bed and asks for Kabal’s forgiveness over whatever they were fighting about.

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep? Kabal. Even though Erron doesn’t see it, Kabal thinks he’s extremely attractive and loves looking at his face. Erron doesn’t like looking at pictures of himself but knows it makes Kabal happy so he lets him take more.

7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”? Kabal said it first during an argument. Erron said it back almost immediately. “You can’t go on that mission! Kano’s trying to get you killed!” “Why do you care so badly, Kabal?!” “Because I love you, you dumbass! And I don’t want you getting hurt or killed!” “Well, I love you too! And I want to go on this mission if it means that we can get out of here sooner!” They were both beyond shocked, and it led to them hugging and kissing, whispering “I love you” to one another a second time each.

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts? Kabal loves wearing Erron’s sweatshirts. They’re big on him and smell like him and make him feel really safe. He also wears his hat sometimes. It makes Erron smile when he sees him in it.

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after? Neither of them wake the other up; Erron rarely dreams, and Kabal doesn’t like discussing his dreams. They both have nightmares. If Kabal has a nightmare, he snuggles up right into Erron, and he sings a quiet song to ease him back to sleep. Erron has worse nightmares and tries to power through them on his own, and when Kabal comforts him, he hides away in his chest; Kabal talks to him to distract him and help him calm down.

10) Who is more likely to cheat at games (cards, board games, etc.)? Both of them. They play poker a lot, and they cheat every single time so they don’t lose any money. Erron’s better at hiding his cheating (but only if he’s wearing his mask), and Kabal’s methods are always found out.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship? Kabal does the teasing. “You thought I was sweeter than a bucket of cherries, huh?” “Well, it’s sweeter than a cherry pie, and yeah, I did.”

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen? Kabal. It quickly turns into a war, which quickly turns into a makeout session, covered in flour and batter.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer? Neither of them initiate duets because they don’t sing very often. Erron is definitely the better singer, and Kabal adores his voice.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops? Erron initiates hand holding to keep Kabal closeby, and he won’t admit it, but holding Kabal’s hand helps him feel safer. Kabal is often sliding his arm around his waist and moving his hand to his butt if they’re alone. They both do the belt loop thing when they wanna stick near each other or get closer to one another.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist? Erron. If he’s gone a while, then he writes Kabal’s name to keep it close to his heart.

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed? Erron is more seductive all around, but he’s doubly seductive when he’s drunk. They’re both kinda loud, but Kabal has more loud outbursts.

17) Who is more protective? Erron. He ain’t gonna let anyone get close enough to Kabal to hurt him; he’s the first person in a while that likes Erron for who he is and loves him, and dammit he’s not gonna lose him!

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping? Erron. He always makes sure that he’s asleep and always stops if he thinks that he’s awake. He tells him how much he loves him and how much he means to him. He also confesses deep worries he has that he would never say out loud to anyone.

19) Who drives and who has the window seat? Erron loves driving so he tries to drive more. Kabal sits in the passenger seat so he can look out the window and navigate.

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed? Erron falls asleep on Kabal all the time. He doesn’t sleep as often as he needs to, and sometimes they’ll be cuddling and he just passes out. He also doesn’t know when to take a break. Poor man. Kabal rubs his back to help him stay asleep because he knows that he needs the rest. He isn’t strong enough to carry him to bed, he sorta just… hoists him up and lets his feet drag. He’s careful that Erron stays asleep when they make it to their bed, and he always cuddles with him once they’re in bed, knowing it’ll help him sleep.

21) Who cuts the others hair? Neither of them. Kabal doesn’t have a lot of hair to cut, and Erron cuts his own hair. Kabal likes to watch him cut his hair though.

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day? Both of them are horrible at it. They have little competitions who can make the worst sexts because they know they’re awful, and it’s a good laugh. Not necessarily encouraging, but Kabal does check up on Erron all day, and Erron does the same thing.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry? Erron is always worried, deep down, that Kabal is gonna wake up one day and realize that he isn’t a good boyfriend and he’s gonna ditch him. He’s worried that he’s gonna lose the one person who he can be himself around. His relationship with Kabal is his first super serious relationship and he wants to do a really good job. Kabal always assures him that he’s a fantastic boyfriend and that he loves him more than anyone in the world.

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them? Erron starts the slow dancing. He’ll put on a record and they’ll just sway, holding one another close while Erron hums along. He loves holding Kabal up, being slightly taller, and kissing him.

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush? Kabal. He is really good at jokes and loves the sound of Erron’s laugh and the sight of his smile.

26) Who kissed first? Kabal. It was the first time he had ever seen him maskless when they properly kissed; before that, it was only pecks with Kabal closing his eyes for the sake of Erron’s comfort. Kabal was so smitten by Erron’s looks that he just kissed him right there, leaving Erron a blushing, stuttering mess.

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark? He doesn’t order take out, but if it’s late and he’s up, then Erron will rummage the kitchen for food. If Kabal’s up, he walks around with him wherever he goes.

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them? Erron writes songs for Kabal a lot. He’s a songwriter at heart and has a lot of feelings about Kabal that he needs to express. He’s saving a performance for a special occasion.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires? They work together to do some crazy stunt with both hookswords and guns at the same time (“When you toss your hooksword in the air, I’m gonna shoot it, and you’re gonna catch it again when it heads back towards you!” “That’s a great idea, baby!”), and they both always get hurt. They’re quick to patch one another up and give kisses where needed.

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute? Kabal has glasses that he wears at home that he hates. Erron thinks they’re really nice.

[withabackpackandcamera]

February 24th, 2020

Day 10: In Manila To Catch Up With An Old Friend

Today, I woke up late but early enough to figure out my flight home before my lunch meeting with Andrea. After washing up and making a call to an EVA Air agent who confirmed that I was good to go on my originally booked flight, I was finally ready. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to hail a Grab taxi; instead, Andrea had instructed her parents’ driver to drop me off at her office building where I would meet her before walking out to grab lunch closeby. After a short drive, he dropped me off at Andrea’s parents’ company’s building (they might own the building?) in Bonifacio Global City, the business part of town that Andrea worked in, where I waited for Andrea to finish a meeting before going out for lunch. 

Her meeting ended late so I ended up having to wait for a bit. Eventually, she came down to meet me in the lobby and we were then off to lunch. We walked around the area and ended up getting lunch at Green Pastures, a healthy food place closeby. After perusing the menu, we ordered the Nose To Tail Cauliflower Bowl (Lechon Sisig) and an Umami Bowl with some healthy juices to drink. It was a good, healthy-tasting meal to have after a few days of not so great eating. We caught up over lunch about everything we had missed in each other’s lives since Stanford but couldn’t get to everything because she had to meet up with her family at the Shangri-La Hotel around the corner for an ING promo event where she was supposed to pick up her new iPhone. At the ING event, I ended up meeting her dad Stephen Sy and two of her sisters, her older sister Stephanie and her younger sister Angela. Because it took awhile to wait for the iPhone distribution process, we sat there and continued chatting until Andrea finally got it. After claiming her prize, we strolled back to her office where I dropped her off before continuing to wander around the area until her workday was over. 

I ended up walking through Bonifacio High Street, a street lined with brand-name stores and restaurants, while killing time and waiting for Andrea. I took a peek into Fully Booked Bookstore and ended up hanging out there for a while, slowly walking through each floor until I had seen all five floors, after which time I left the bookstore to continue my exploring. But around this time, the rain started to fall. Instead of walking too far from Bonifacio High Street, I just stayed in the area to avoid getting too wet with my camera on me. I strolled into and out of a couple of stores until the rain finally started to calm down and eventually stop. When the rain stopped, I jumped over to a little shopping center I had found and walked through there looking for a place to grab a drink. I didn’t find anything worth purchasing but sat around to rest before getting back up on my feet. 

By this time, it was getting close to late afternoon. With some time left, I decided to roam the streets of BGC with the goal of finding as many wall murals as possible before dinner (supposedly, over the years, they have had artists paint murals in BGC). So I started my scavenger hunt for public art murals in the area. After seeing a couple, I spotted a Chatime boba shop. Just what I was looking for! Boba was really what I was craving for my thirst so I stopped by Chatime for some boba before continuing my hunt. I walked around and through and past cars stuck in post-work traffic and saw a couple murals before it finally got dark. It was time to start walking back to meet up with Andrea. 

Once she was done with her work day, she again met me downstairs and we walked a block or so to dinner at Manam, a restaurant that was very well known and popular for its traditional Filipino comfort food. Because I didn’t know what I wanted to order, I let her do all the ordering since she had strong recommendations for some dishes. We ended up ordering House Crispy Sisig, Pancit Palabok, and a dessert of Bibingkang Ube. Even though my appetite wasn’t yet back to 100%, the food was delicious! The House Crispy Sisig was like crispy pork that was well seasoned. Pancit Palabok was crispy rice noodles soaked in egg (I think) with some mushrooms, shrimp, and squid in it. Yum! And the Bibingkang Ube was a dessert similar to warm pound cake with ube on it. A delicious dinner and a great catch-up conversation lasting close to three whole hours! Productive and fun! 

After a long time sitting on our butts and eating, we finally got up to walk it all off before getting picked up by Andrea’s driver. Once we were at home, she showed me around the entire house and brought her mom down to say hi (I met her mom ages ago on Andrea’s first day at Stanford and she still remembers me!). Before showering and packing for the airport, we fit in another hour of chatting and catching up before I REALLY had to get ready and head to the airport. But before long, I was all clean and all packed and ready to go. Sadly, the trip to Manila was very short and I didn’t get to hang out with Andrea as much as I would have liked. But the time we did spend together after 7-8 years was super productive! A very well-spent 24 hours in Manila! 

Once I had signed their guestbook and said goodbye to Andrea, her kind driver drove me to the airport and dropped me off at my terminal. And man was I lucky in getting there a bit early because the line to check into my EVA Air flight was devastatingly long. I waited and waited and waited until I finally got to the check-in desk and received my boarding tickets. Shortly after, I was through security and at a lounge, where I spent about an hour hanging out before boarding my very early morning flight to Taipei. Taiwan, here I come again! For one long, hopefully productive layover! 

5 Things I Learned Today:

1. Bonifacio Global City, also known as BGC, is a financial district in Manila that was built on an old army base that was sold to developers and real-estate people some 20-30 years ago. Over that time, the area has developed at an exponential rate and has now become the booming commercial and financial area in Manila. 

2. Focus Global Inc. is a company that specializes in marketing and distribution and is one of the leading distributors in the Philippines of local and imported products, like Tempur-Pedic and Ethan Allen brands. AND, Andrea’s family owns the company. Whoa. 

3. You can’t get free WiFi ANYWHERE in the Philippines and Singapore without a local phone number. Why do people make life so hard??

4. The Philippines were once colonized by the United States for something like 48 years after a long history of colonization by Spain. The Philippines were even occupied by Japan for a short period of time from 1942-1945 during WWII.

5. Sisig is a dish that is mostly composed of leftover pork parts that haven’t been used for other dishes that are then chopped up and cooked on a sizzling hot plate and served with rice.

[saikostories]

HAIKYUU - The Dark Spots on the Sun pt1

It was just another boring school day for Shoyo Hinata. He didn’t learn much in class, and rarely just paid attention in general. He knew it was bad and would backfire, but he was excited to go to practice. So instead, he watched absent mindedly at the sky through the classroom window... silently counting the minutes until the final bell rang, signalling the end of class. He wondered what they would do... perhaps a practice match? Perhaps receives? Maybe serves? Anything was good. Feeling the rush of hitting the ball over the net and across court.... he couldn’t wait. Volleyball was one of the only things that brought joy into Shoyo’s life. It would be one of the only moments when he didn’t have to put a fake smile on for the others. It’s the moment when he smiles for real.

Shoyo’s life hadn’t been the best. His father died a long time ago, right before his little sister, Natsu, was born. Shoyo and his mother both took the death in a bad way. He stopped talking to his school friends, quit any sports he was involved in, and rarely did his school work for almost a year. His teachers understood why and they didn’t force the young Shoyo to do much during the year of his grief. His mother, Amaya Hinata, took it badly as well. She started to drink almost every night and would wake up so hungover that she could barely get Shoyo to school and herself to work on time. It only got worse when Natsu was born. Amaya, who would take her anger and sadness out see how many beer bottles she could finish or how hard she could throw them against the walls and the floor, would also take it out on whichever Hinata sibling was closeby. It was rarely Natsu since she was still so small therefore it was usually Shoyou. He would always protect Natsu from any harm that would try and come her way. Shoyo never hated his younger at all, not even when his injuries were really bad. He always found great joy in taking care of her and having someone to keep him company. In some ways he felt bad for her. Even though she didn’t get the brunt of the force physically... she was almost always regarded as the child who Amaya had been planted with. Most nights, when Natsu cried a little louder than usual... Amaya would scream that she shut up.

“How could he leave me with this? A silly little girl and a good-for-nothing son...? How am I supposed to cope? Bloody mess...” Amaya would mutter before reaching into the fridge to down another bottle of beer. It was a never ending cycle of torment. But at least if Natsu wasn’t touched... Shoyo could deal with the rest of Amaya’s harsh and drunken habits. He managed to find out when his mom had a somewhat decent day and when she had an awful day by just the way she opened the front door to the house. Shoyo would always have warm food made for his mother when she returned to try and make the day better. He knew he was safe if his mother ever thanked him for the food... which didn’t happen often; and If she ate the food at a quick pace, he knew the day had been alright... But he still needed to keep his guard up. If she ate the food at a slow and scowling pace, Shoyo would just start preparing for any pain to come his way.

His mom would hit him at night most of the time. He would urge Natsu to hide in her special corner of her bedroom as he would just sit on his bed in his room and await his punishment. Amaya would always yell at Shoyo that it was his fault his father had passed away. his father had been driving home from work one night when he got a call from Shoyo... Since it had snowed the night before, ice paved the roads. One wrong move and any vehicle would go sliding. However, ignoring all that, his father had answered the call from his son whilst he was driving. It only took one patch of black ice for the car to skid right off the edge of the mountain cliff that led up to the house. Shoyo had remembered the sound so clearly... All he could do was stand frozen with the phone pressed to his ear. Before he knew it, police officers were at the door, and Shoyo’s mom was rushed to hospital in labour just a week later after having a mental breakdown . Amaya’s words never fully sunk in with Shoyo when he was being beaten. She usually repeated the same words over and over again that he would just know what she was exactly saying, even if he wasn’t hearing it anymore. It was like his brain was on autopilot. All he could think was

It’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault.

‘You worthless brat! You are the reason your father died! You can’t even do simple jobs! So many boys at your age can help run shops and all you can do is cook and clean! What are you, a housewife?! If I wanted a house worker that bad I should have just had a female!’

She would also say how Shoyo has it easy, that people his age get beaten all the time for no reason. He should be grateful that he’s being hurt as a result of his own actions. He grew to believe that every bad thing that happened in his life was his fault. That he deserved the dozens of bruises and gashes. They rarely hurt anymore unless he accidentally put too much pressure on certain wounds. He never told a single soul about the abuse or the wounds he had to bear on his own skin. The only person that knew was Natsu, who would do her best to patch up all of the wounds, apologizing that Shoyo had to protect her. It pained him that she felt guilty. It hurt when she cried.

“Listen Natsu... I will protect you forever and ever, it’s just what older siblings do. I promise I will never let mom lay a hand on you, okay? So dry your tears... and go hide for me okay? Don’t come out until I say it’s okay.” He would say this every time to her. Making her promise to not make a sound... To stay hidden in the safety of her bedroom... To put her hands over her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear. At first, she’d refuse... but after a while, she’d nod and run away. Shoyo would always breathe a sigh of relief when he heard the door close behind her.

Once Amaya had finished tolling his punishment, he’d limp to his sister’s room and knock three times, then two, then two again. It was like some sort of code to let her know it was him. When the door opened, Natsu would always give her big brother the best hugs she could at the time. They all weren’t tight because she would fear that she would just hurt Shoyo more. She would still do her best to help her brother along the way... Whether that was sneaking into the kitchen to get ice for a particularly nasty bruise or helping him tie a bandage around a wound that had been opened... Shoyo was always extremely grateful for this and marvelled at how much Natsu had learnt at the small age of 6. Nevertheless he could rest a bit more before the night progressed.

Shoyo was spacing out again in class and was brought back to reality when the bell rang loudly. It was lunchtime, and he had promised Nishioya and Tanaka that he would accompany them. The downside was that he only made lunch for Natsu as they didn’t have much food in the house. He would rather have Natsu be happy than to be hungry. He would be able to get more food on the weekends, but for now, he would have to survive two more days with what little he had at home. Of course, he could ask his senpais for some, but he didn’t want them to waste food on someone like him.

“Shoyo!” Noya called from across the 2nd year’s classroom and basically came in to drag the other to the spot where the three would be sitting together. Tanaka was already there as Noya pointed to where Shoyo would go to sit. “You excited for practice today?” Nota beamed excitedly as he started to open his bento Box. Shoyo nodded and started rummaging in his bag. If he could find anything... a stray energy bar... an apple... anything. He winced internally when his fans fell short inside his bag. Books and a Volleyball kit. Other than that... nothing. Both upperclassmen quickly noticed the missing lunch from Shoyo “where’s your lunch?”

“Oh... I didn’t bring one today. I guess I must have forgotten it at home!” Shoyo said with a large smile plastered across his face. Tanaka dove into his own bag and pulled out an extra pair of chopsticks.

“Here. You can have some of my rice if you want and some tofu...” Hinayana shook his head.

“No no it’s fine guys, I’m also not that hungry today because I ate a lot for dinner last night! Plus I had a big breakfast this morning so...” He said with a fake smile. He couldn’t worry his friends, and he also didn’t want them to give food to him because he just didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of the kindness that anybody showed him. He was a curse. That’s what his mom had never failed to remind him.

“Whatever you say Hinata, but don’t come crying to us when you can’t practice due to how tired you are.” Tanaka laughed and crossed his arms in a confident way. Shoyo just laughed with his faked bubbly attitude and smiled.

“You bet I won’t do that! I’ll never miss out on practicing, not even for a few minutes!”

Both Noya and Tanaka smiled at the other but also gave their warnings.

“Love that attitude! But remember Shoyo,” Noya started, “if you do need a break for your health, we all will make sure that you get one. Even if we have to do it by force.”

Those words made Shoyo anxious. One wrong move and he could be off the court. He would have to make sure he doesn’t slip up. He rarely does, and even if he did he could make up so many stories on the fly. Everyone believed them, which made him think that if he just faked it all, no one would notice. He didn’t want people to know that he was suffering at all. He just wanted his peers to be happy and rely on him. He didn’t need to burden them all.

Lunch ended pretty swiftly. Perhaps it was the excitement of only having one more class left on his schedule. Either way, the sooner he got onto the court the better he would feel. He was already changed and ready to go before most of the team got there.

“Very enthusiastic Hinata, you seem to be really excited,” Daichi entered the gym with his normal smile followed by Suga and Asahi, who both just smiled warmly.

“Yes! I’m excited for practice today! It’s going to be so much fun!” He cheered.

“It’s just practice, I don’t understand why you would be so excited for something that happens every day,” Tsukishima entered the gym with Yamaguchi trailing behind.

Shoyo didn’t respond verbally, and opted to just rolling his eyes as he saw Kageyama enter the gym and raced up to him, fire in his eyes.

“I bet you 10 meat buns that we are going to hit over 75% of our quick attack!” Kageyama just gave a weird look before having a smug look on his face with his response.

“Fine idiot, I bet we will hit 90% of them!”

“Deal!”

Everyone soon was in the gym, Yachi and Kyoko entered last. While Kyoko was being fawned over by Tanaka and Nishioya, Yachi greeted everyone and prepared for the practice.

“Hey Hinata, Kageyama! There’s a big test coming up right?” Yachi said warmly as she walked over to the duo. Both had forgotten about the test. It was in their English class and it was supposed to cover all of the words and grammar they had learned that month. Both Shoyo and Tobio just stood there and even tried to look away while Yachi panicked. “You guys! You need to pass this test or Takeda would not let you go to Tokyo next week!”

Right, if the two had failed the test they would be put on probation. Shoyo had been looking forward to going to Tokyo so he could see all of his friends and get even stronger. They couldn’t miss it, not at all. He had managed to convince his mom to go on that two-week business trip so he could make it. He had planned it all out so Natsu would be alright as well.

“Yachi you have to help meeee,” he pleaded and gripped Yachi’s hands in a pleading way. Yachi was panicking but tried to explain her situation.

“I can’t help you study this weekend, since I’m visiting my grandparents,! I’m so sorry, but I can hook you up with my other friend Hoshi instead.. She’s super smart so you’ll have no problem in cramming for the test!”

Shoyo had only heard of this friend a couple of times. Her name was Hoshi Nanami. She had fair skin and very long and gorgeous black hair. Not only was she very smart, almost top of her class... but she also very kind. As a first-year, she hadn’t gone unnoticed by a lot of the boys (and even some girls), earning her the title of ‘popular’. Shoyo had crossed her in the halls but that was about it. However, if she could guarantee a good grade, Shoyo was more than happy to have her as a tutor.

“Really!? Yay! You are the best Yachi!” Shoyo cheered.

“No-no, it’s not that big of a deal!” Yachi said flustered, “I’ll give you her number after practice and inform her that you two need help!”

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s not a problem Hinata!”

---

Practice was really fun to Shoyo. He rarely missed any spikes and only messed up on a couple of receives. The best part was, he didn’t get hit in the face once! With kakgeyama serving... it was always best to cover the back of the head. He trusted that he had a good serve that would go over the net and eventually earn them points but right now was practice. Shoyo’s trust in him was thin. First in practice was a drill led by Nishinoya on receiving. Then, everyone practiced serves. After that was the spikes in which both kageyama and sugawara were setters. This really made Shoyo happy since not only could he practice his legendary quick attacks, but he could see whether or not he would win the bet against Karasunos number 9. Practice eventually ended with a series of 3 on 3 matches... in which Shoyo had tried to apply every technique he had learnt in order to beat Tsukishima, Kinnoshita and Daichi. The duo walked over to Yachi and Kiyoko, who were keeping track of all the progress.

“So Kiyoko? How were our attacks?” Shoyo bounced at the taller manager, who looked at her notebook and started doing the math before turning her head up.

“85% accuracy, it’s gotten really better.”

Shoyo cheered loudly and nagged at Kageyama, who just yelled back angrily. “Alright Kageyama, that’s 10 meat buns you need to give me! You can give them to me next week when we get on the bus!”

“Yeah, Yeah... whatever... That’s if you pass your English test you idiot...” The other only grumbled in reply and walked away.

“HEY! You’re failing too you know! And I want those meat buns!” Shoyo called out, before running to catch up with the angry setter. After the gym was all cleaned up and everyone was dismissed, Shoyo ran out quickly. His smiling face instantly turned to panic and seriousness. Practice had gone on for too long and that would mean that Natsu could be in danger. What if mom came home early? Dinner hasn’t even been done yet... Plus Natsu would be home alone with mom... He couldn’t have his sister injured at all. If his mom had managed to get to Natsu, he would feel like an awful older brother.

The ride home was speedy and quick, the adrenaline had kicked in and he had made it home in no time, quickly opening the door and stepped in quickly. He yelled ‘I’m home!’ as loud as he could to try and see what kind of mood his mom was in.

“Shut up Shoyo!” Amaya angrily yelled from the living room. Her tone was filled with venom as she walked over to him. She was obviously drunk, and that meant a lot of pain was to come to him, and hopefully only him. “Why are you home so late? I missed dinner because of your slowness," Amaya grunted as she grabbed Shoyo by the collar.

“I-’m sorry m-mom practice went on fo-for longer than n-normal,” he choked out the words before Amaya threw him to the ground as hard as she could. Shoyo fell heavily and let out a small wince.

“You should have just not gotten into that stupid sport. It only weakens you and makes it so much difficult for us. You should just quit” She yelled angrily as she threw a punch at Shoyo’s face, causing him to bring his arms up in defence. She hit him again and again; even going as far as to throw a few kicks to his ribs too. He winced even more at the pain and felt himself curl in on himself. This was a tactic he had picked up over the years. It made everything hurt less. It still hurt but by curling into a ball, it made it harder for Amaya to hit him. Eventually she got bored though and stopped, huffing and puffing at the loss of energy.

“I need another drink,” Amaya grumbled and walked away as Shoyo got up, not being acknowledged anymore. He made his way upstairs, one hand to his waist, and knocked the familiar code on Natu’s door. The door swung open and revealed the small, orange/haired girl with tears in her eyes. Thankfully, she looked unscathed. Shaky... but still unscathed.

“Did she hurt you Natsu?” Shoyo quickly asked, getting a shake of the other head in response and a wave of relief to wash over the other.

“It souwned wike it hwrt, are you ok Showo?” Her tiredness made her words slur as she has a slight look of fear in her eyes.

“I’m fine Natsu, mom didn’t hurt me,” Shoyo gave the best smile.

“You pwomise?” Natsu asked hesitantly as she walked forward slowly to burrow her head in his stomach. Shoyo smiled tiredly and rested a hand on the back of her head. After a moment, he kneeled down and wiped the tears that threatened to fall down her face.

“I promise it didn’t hurt. See? I’m right as rain.” Natsu nodded before rubbing her eye and going back into her room, wishing the other good night. Shoyo headed in to the washroom to clean up the bruise on his eye. It was starting to swell a little, which wasn’t good. It meant that the others could notice so he would have to make up a story. Maybe I fell off my bike? Yeah that would work... they know I’m pretty clumsy... He thought about it for a moment before wetting a small cloth with cold water and holding it to his cheekbone. He sighed. It was going to be a long week. All he had to do was make sure that he studied hard, passed this test and make sure that Natsu was taken care of. After that it was a long trip to Tokyo and then a whole week of nothing but volleyball. He walked into his room and later down on his bed. Now that he was relaxing, he could feel the ache of his muscles after his beating with Amaya. Usually, he could take it... but lately it had gotten harsher, stronger and more frequent. His fear that Natsu would finally get the same treatment was something that kept him up all night. That’s not going to happen. Everything will be fine. He didn’t even register anything else as his eyes slowly closed, and Shoyo drifted off to sleep.

-

The next morning was like Shoyo had received a punch to the face. Thankfully, Shoyo had remembered to put the arnica cream one of his friends had gotten him from a geography trip to france in middle school. Knowing that he was reckless and serious about volleyball, they had gotten it as a joke... as a playful reminder that he had to be more careful... now Hinata couldn’t have been more grateful for this miracle of a solution that made muscle pain go away overnight. It had even reduce some of the swelling on his cheek.

He knocked quietly on Natsu’s door, which opened almost immediately. She was already dressed. It was a condition that Amaya had insisted. Natsu had to be ready so that when she was leaving for work, she didn’t have to worry about children running around and making a fuss. Shoyo smiled proudly. Natsu had managed to tie her own hair into braids and her uniform looked fairly neat and tidy.

“You ready?” Shoyo asked as she nodded quietly and took his hand in hers. As quietly as they could, they crept downstairs. Amaya was in the bathroom, which meant they had about 15 minutes until she came out and started complaining that she was going to be late. Shoyo reached into the fridge and grabbed the brown lunch bag that was sitting on the top shelf, handing it to Natsu. “Here. I made you a bento box... just how you like it.” Natsu’s eyes widened.

“With egg and rice!? And porc strips!?” Natsu said semi-loudly, to which Shoyo put his finger to his lips quietly. He could see how happy she looked. Lunches usually consisted of stale sandwiches and perhaps a fruit or packet of crisps to go with it. Basic items that were cheap and that Shoyo could make quickly before Amaya came raging downstairs asking for Shoyo to get the hell out of the kitchen. Natsu frowned and looked around her for a second. “Wait... where’s yours?” Shoyo shook his head calmly.

“Don’t worry... I have awesome senpais who are going to treat me to lunch as reward for doing an awesome serve yesterday. I promise you I’m going to eat today.” Shoyo didn’t know if Natsu would buy his blatant lie. Even though she was only six, she was smarter than most of the people in her class. It wouldn’t be hard for her to see through his cracked smile. However, she smiled back and nodded. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get your coat on. Mom will be down in a minute.”

-

The walk to Karasuno high was much more pleasant than Shoyo had thought it would be. His mom seemed to be in a good mood this morning so dropping off Natsu was going to be a piece of cake... Plus it hadn’t rained that night so the roads weren’t slippery at all, meaning less of a hassle riding up and down the mountain. He parked his bike in his usual spot and looked up to the sky. It had a gorgeous orange tint to it... making it look like the sky was on fire. In the brisk air it felt nice. Shoyo looked around and grinned.

“Looks like Kageyama isn’t here yet”. Shoyo slung his bag over his shoulder and began running. Sure, kageyama hadn’t exactly arrived but Shoyo would be damned if he just took it easy. Each foot pounding on the floor felt nice. It was exercise for his achy bones. Sure enough, he heard the familiar sound of his name being called.

“YOU WONT BEAT ME THIS TIME HINATAAAAAA!” Kageyama cried as he matched his pace evenly with the ginger volleyball player.

“What like I did last time? Just try and catch up to me!” He cried back as he upped his pace. Finally, both boys reached the gym, heaving at the lack of oxygen. Shoyo having a mechanical grin plastered onto his face. “Told you I’d win. What is that 56/55?” Kageyama nodded his head bitterly.

“Whatever I’ll get you tomorrow.” He stood up straight and threw a small plastic bag at Shoyo’s feet. “Here. Meat bun. Now I owe you nine.”

“I thought you’d give them to me on the bus...” Shoyo said picking up the meat bun. The smell was delicious. It gave Shoyo half a mind to eat it right now. However, since he hadn’t had any lunch it was probably not the best idea.

“I will. But I was stopping at Coach Ukai’s shop to pick up a jacket I apparently left at the gym yesterday and I was hungry. So I got you one too. Eat it now or later I don’t care.” Kageyama shrugged and opened his up, taking a large bite and chewing it slowly. It surprised him when Shoyo wrapped it up carefully and put it in his bag. With one brow raised, Kageyama did the same to his half eaten meat bun. “So ugh... what happened to your face?”

Shoyo froze and put his hand to his left cheek. He had forgotten about the bruise. All the racing with kageyama had distracted him from the pain he felt in his ribs from yesterday. “Oh uh this? Nothing I just fell off my bike. My tire exploded yesterday on the way back from school. It’s fixed though.” Kageyama nodded.

“Stupid idiot. Can’t you be anymore careful...”

“Hey! I can’t control whether I get a puncture or not!”

“You probably over pumped your tires like an idiot that’s why the exploded!”

“Shut up I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Woah... I come to school expecting volleyball players and I get to babies...” kageyama and Shoyo spun around to see sugawara twirling the keys in his hand with a smile on his face. “Seriously where you get the energy from...”

“Morning Suga.” Shoyo said as he picked up his bag and scowled at Kageyama. “Bakeyama lost again today.”

“Hey at least I don’t look like a purple pansy. Next time don’t overpump your tires.” Kageyama followed him in and three his bag towards his locker. It was somehow colder in the changing rooms so neither boy could wait until they got to playing.

“I heard Yachi is setting you up with a tutor Hinata” suga called as the smaller boy got changed. He nodded in response. “Don’t forget to study hard so you both can come to tokyo! You’ve only got two days till the test!” Suga winked and held up his thumb, making both boys smile eagerly.

“Yeah! We’re totally going to ace this test!”

-

“Hinata!”

It wasn’t unusual for Shoyo to space out when in class. Once again he stared out of the window, only to be jolted awake by the sound of his name. His head turned to where the smile came from and smiled eagerly as he saw Nanami Hoshi skip up to his desk. He bowed with his head a small hello.

“Hey Hoshi... how are you?”

“I’m good! I’m good... listen, I heard fro, Yachi-san that you wanted some help in English?” Hinata nodded eagerly. Since he hadn’t eaten this morning, practicing at fully energy had gotten pretty tiring. Instead he stayed quiet and only responded when he needed to. “Great, well I’m free after school until around seven if that’s okay with you?”

“Um, I actually have practice after school so could we study during our free periods? Yachi texted me and said that yours lined up with mine so...” Hoshi blinked a couple of times in surprise before nodding in agreement.

“No that’s practical actually, since you have English just before then so we can go through parts of your homework that you get together so you don’t forget anything.” She picked up Shoyo’s phone of the table. “This is yours right? I’ll give you my number... so if you have any questions you can ask me... or if you know... you want to hang out...”

Shoyo spluttered a little in surprise as he caught the last part of Hoshi’s sentence. “Ugh... are you sure? I mean I don’t want to bother you or anything, Hoshi-”

“Honestly don’t worry about it! I’ve been meaning to do some volunteer work anyway so this is perfect. Oh and call me Nanami! Plus... I’ve always thought you were pretty cute Shoyo-kun...” Shoyo could feel his face go beet-red as she leaned over and put her head on her hands. He could also sense every single student in the classroom staring. “See you later Shoyo!”

“B-bye! Nananami...” Shoyo muttered in embarrassment. Urgh... today is going to be such a long daaaay.... I can’t wait for Tokyo...

[numberhike]

Day 2: This place is getting crowded

We woke up the other day after only 5 hours of sleep at about 9 in the morning - we spent the night sleeping on our iso matresses on the ground of his appartment. Sebastian was so kind to prepare some breakfast for us, (omelette, sausages and for my taste a rather strange experience, bread with coconut butter as a sidedish - but it was actually really good!) and then told us he wanted to take us to a woods nearby to teach us some stuff about making fire.

As a matter of fact, Sebastian had a car - a red Ford Fiesta actually and Alex joked around that the red color makes the car a lot faster of course. Sebastian told us about his plans to sell his car and get a new one as his current one breaks down often and the repairs take up a lot of money, but driving around in that car with the windows down and brilliant weather was actually rather nice.

We arrived after about 15 minutes at the woods; there were a lot of fireplaces around and also right at the entrance a big lake with a stone bridge that served as an entry, kind of like an ark. It was not allowed to swim at the lake, but many people were taking a walk closeby and the view was really beautiful! Especially all the fish in the water (I think some where even Kois which sounds rather unbelievable but well) were fascinating to look at, I’ve never seen that many in a sea in nature before.

After walking a couple of minutes through the woods, looking for firewood and especially some birch (which we simply couldn’t find; as Sebastian explained, the forest was rather unusual and only had a few couple of different kind of trees because it was made by humans) we ended up on a clearing with a big fire place and some benches. There were already a couple of wooden logs lying around which we started to treat with our Fiskars Axe, but until we actually finally had a fire it took us almost an hour - it wasn’t as easy as we thought it would be, even with the help of Sebastian. (We would later on make a lot more fires and by now, this is one of the easiest things for us to I would say).

While sitting at the fire, Sebastian got a call from the two other couch surfers who would arrive today - we thought about camping on the clearing as the woods seemed rather nice, but after talking to the other Couch Surfers for a little while Sebastian told us we could stay another night in his appartment, because they had no problem with that. I imagined it to be rather crowded with 5 people sleeping there, but on the other hand I was also a little bit curious who that girl and boy were. Sebastian said they were hitchhiking too so they didn’t really know when they would arrive, so he proposed we could just go into the city for lunch while waiting until they arrive.

Lunch was at a rather fancy italian place, where allegedly many famous people already had eaten a meal. Alex and me didn’t find the food to be extraordinary though, we had some nice pasta but were not totally overwhelmed by the taste, especially considering the long waiting time as the place was really crowded.

After we went back to the apartment, the two other hikers finally came around, looking a little bit tired and exhausted. As it turned out, they’ve been to the Woodstock Festival where getting an extensive amount of peaceful sleep is rather improbable. Kasha and Wojtek were very nice and open people and we immediately got along with each other; Kasha told us that Wojtek has pretty much hitchhiked all around the world already while she herself only did it in Poland and also never went alone. Wojtek would later on tell us that he probably has already crossed more than 100.000 km by hitchhiking, once even doing it on a plane which really stunned us. While Kasha had a normal job, Wojtek was doing some kind of internet shopping business which allowed him to travel all around the world while still earning some money.

They took a little while to refresh themselves, then we decided to all walk into the town, especially to see the tall ships that were still in the harbour. On our way we would grab something to eat at a small restaurant; as Wojtek had some business to do, we would seperate there and went on without him to the harbour.

There were so many people in this little town and the view was unbelievable! All those tall ships, an amusement park nearby, concerts and even the polish version of The Voice was happening somewhere nearby and shown on a big television screen. We even got the chance to climb on the ships, though sadly we were not allowed to climb all the way up on the ropes.

Also memorable were the sand sculptures at the beach that were made by various artists from all around the world.

We waited for Wojtek quite a while at the sand sculptures and it was getting both dark and considerably cold. When he finally appaeared, we decided to snap some quick pictures and then go back into the city. There was actually even a bunge jumping site from a construction crane, which really looked scary. But the view from the bridge, down on the harbour with all the ships and lights from the concerts and park was really something else!

By coincidence we walked by a open air bar were we ordered a couple of drinks - to my regret, I ordered a Vodka Sour which was with egg yolk (which I didn’t know) - I drank it nonetheless and it actually tasted good! We pretty much spent the rest of the evening there in the bar, telling us stories about hiking and traveling. At that time, there was also a live band singing some songs and afterwards, Sebastian got enough courage (or alcohol intus? I don’t know) to step on the stage to sing some crazy traditional folk song without any background music. That was really memorable.