#i’ll probably post my own photos once the samples arrive to me so keep an eye out for those!

[cybersodas]

!!!New product sample!!!

I recently got photos and a video of a product I ordered a few samples of; say hello to the Megaman E-tank shaker charm!!! I LOVE how this turned out- only thing I might change if I open preorders for this is the color of the glitter 🤔

[set-phasers-to-whump]

whumptober day 11

prompt: stitches

whumpee: will riker (yet another one that like nobody else whumps sorry)

im so sorry this was late i was super busy yesterday and couldnt post it, also i will be posting today’s and tomorrow’s prompts both tomorrow and then i’ll be back on schedule i know nobody really cares but sorry anyway,,,this might be a lil wonky cos i didn’t edit it much

Data sat curled up in a chair in his quarters, carefully working on a needlepointed Enterprise. He had taken up the craft fairly recently, and frequently gifted his fellow Starfleet officers with various designs. They seemed to enjoy them, for the most part, so he devoted quite a bit of his free time to making them. Today’s was going to be a gift for the Captain.

He checked the time-he was due on shift in 7 minutes, 32.4 seconds. He tied off his most recent stitch and removed his thread from the needle, setting the thread onto a side table. He withdrew from his pocket a small case, into which he placed his needle. The case had been a gift from Geordi, who had been none too fond of the small bowl of needles which used to occupy the side table. Data slipped the case back into his pocket and headed to the bridge. 

He arrived a few minutes early, but so had Lieutenant Worf, and the two had a conversation about the day’s activities as they waited for their shift to begin. Today, Commander Riker and an away team (which would doubtless include at least one of them) were beaming down to a previously-unvisited Class M planet. Although there had been no signs of life down on its surface, Starfleet headquarters had been curious, and had instructed the closest ship-the Enterprise-to stop by and take a few soil samples and such. 

Despite the fact that there was nothing alive on the planet, Data still thought the mission to the surface would be interesting-you never knew what you were going to discover on a planet until you actually went down and investigated. There could be all sorts of fascinating things down there.

About two hours into the shift, the planet came into view. Within moments the Enterprise was in orbit, and Commander Riker was calling out the names of his away team-Worf, Data, a young ensign named Brown, who specialised in geology, and a lieutenant named Hardy, who specialised in meteorology. 

The five of them beamed down to the planet. Its surface was desert-like, with rather large, coarse grains of sand and various spiked rock formations, ranging in size from perhaps two feet to vast mountains in the distance. 

Everyone set to their jobs, analysing with tricorders, collecting samples, taking photos. 

Ensign Brown examined one of the rock formations. “Looks like this area gets hit with sandstorms pretty frequently,” they said. 

“More than that, this seems to be an area where they form,” added Lieutenant Hardy. 

“There does not appear to be anything remarkable about this planet, Commander,” said Worf. “The sand and rocks are very similar in composition to those of Vulcan.”

“Agreed,” said Commander Riker, tapping his combadge to inform the Enterprise of this information.

“Riker to Picard.”

Silence.

“Riker to Picard. Can you hear me?”

Still more silence.

“Commander,” said Lieutenant Hardy. 

“Yes?”

“We may have a problem.”

“What?”

She gestured behind the group. Clouds were forming around 200 meters away. 

“Please don’t tell me that’s-”

“It’s a dust storm, sir.”

As she spoke, the wind whipped up around them, sending sand flying around their feet. 

“It is coming this way,” Data observed. “At approximately 50 kilometers per hour. It should reach us in 14.4 seconds.”

“It’s interfering with our signal!” Hardy yelled, over the wind. “We have to find shelter! Now!” 

Worf pointed to a tall rock formation not far from the group. “I believe there is a small cave within those rocks.”

At this, the five sprinted for the rocks, the wind rushing in their ears. They were nearly there when the storm overtook them. Brown, Hardy, and Worf managed to fling themselves into the cave. Data grabbed the edge of it with one hand, his other just barely holding on to Riker. He tried to pull the commander towards him, but the wind pulled him back. 

Their hands suddenly slipped apart. Both of them shouted, “No!,” but it was too late. The storm pulled Riker back, his hands scrabbling at the ground, looking for something to hold on to.

Just before the sandstorm swallowed him up, he managed to grab hold of one of the smaller rock formations, not even noticing its sharp edges digging into his hands. Sand and rock flew around him, his body was lifted into the air, tethered only by his desperate grip on the rock.

Data immediately ran out after the commander-he was an android, after all, and far more resilient than a human. He struggled through the storm, ignoring his teammates, who were yelling for him to come back. 

The storm sat still for a moment, and Data could suddenly see Commander Riker quite clearly, holding onto a rock for dear life. He raced to him and this time, got a firm hold of his hand, and pulled him away, sprinting back to the cave at superhuman speed, nearly dragging the commander behind him. 

Data flung the pair down into the cave as the sandstorm began moving again. Sand whipped into the cave’s entrance as the storm sat directly atop them. 

“Commander!” shouted the frantic voice of Ensign Brown. Data turned to Riker, and immediately saw the issue-he was leaning against the cave’s wall, a hand pressed to his side, which was rapidly turning red with blood. Smaller cuts and scrapes littered his face, product of his brief time in the storm. 

“What has happened?” Worf asked.

“Piece of rock...lodged in my side...it came out, in the wind.” His voice was tight with pain. 

Each of the crew members tried their combadges again, but to no avail. 

“The storm has gotten larger,” Hardy observed. “It’s slowing down a bit. It’ll take a while for us to be completely away from it, for our signals to start working again.”

“So we’re stuck down here for sure?” asked Ensign Brown. “What do we do?”

“May I observe your injury, Commander?” Data asked. When Riker nodded, he gently moved the commander’s hands away from his side and removed his shirt. Blood pooled around the cut, which was deep and jagged and dirty. 

“What do we do?” Brown asked again. “That’s a lot of blood, and who knows how long we’re gonna be stuck here!” 

Data ran through his medical files and addressed the group. “We must prevent him from bleeding out,” he said. “In Sickbay, there are machines which could fix this very easily, however, we are going to have to use more primitive methods.”

He briefly explained what they were supposed to do-clean the wound, smooth out the edges, apply stitches. 

“We should use an anaesthetic,” he said. “But we do not have any, nor do we have anything to disinfect the wound, or to clean up its edges. I have needles, and our uniforms can supply the thread.”

“Could we use a phaser?” Worf asked. 

“Negative, Lieutenant,” Data replied. “If we do that, we run the risk of damaging his internal organs.”

“Then just...do these stitches,” Commander Riker said. Although he was now lying down, he felt dizzy, and everything around him was blurring in and out of focus. 

“I must warn you, it will not be pleasant.” Data said. 

“Do we have a choice?”

They did not. So Data set to work, having evidently been deemed this mission’s doctor. The first step was to clean out the wound-there were particles of sand and fabric from the uniform stuck inside, and these could cause infection.

Data had nothing to clean the wound out with, so he did what he could with his own shirt, turned inside-out to prevent the introduction of more sand into the wound. It didn’t do much, but anything would help. 

The second step was to irrigate the wound, which would have to be skipped, as they did not have anything to do it with. The next step would also have to be skipped. It was important that the edges of the wound be made smooth for stitching, but again, they had no tools to do this, so Data moved on to the most important step-the stitches themselves.

He carefully ripped thread from the cuff of his shirt-it was not the ideal type of thread, but it would do. He then pulled out his needle case, which had been stowed safely in his pocket, and selected one which he had not used before. 

“We should find a way to sterilise it,” Ensign Brown pointed out. “A phaser might be able to do that.”

Data followed their suggestion and set his phaser to the lowest possible setting, heating up the needle until Brown said they thought it was probably sterile.

As Data poised himself to begin stitching, Brown, Hardy, and Worf backed away, giving them some space. 

“This will hurt, I am afraid, Commander,” Data said, as softly as he could. 

“Doesn’t matter.”

So Data began the first stitch, pinching together the sides of the cut and poking through the commander’s skin as though it was one of his needlepoint canvases. 

As the needle went into his skin, Riker instinctively curled up, jerking away from Data’s hands with a soft whimper. 

Data had not heard the commander make this sound before, but he recognised it as a human sound of pain or distress, both of which he was certain the commander was feeling a lot of. He attempted some words of comfort. “It will be okay, it will be over soon,” he said. “But you must not move, or you may make the injury worse.”

Riker nodded and took a shuddering breath. Data began stitching once again. 

It did not take many stitches to close the wound, but it did take a while, for although he tried, Riker was unable to completely stop moving, and still jerked slightly at each movement of the needle. 

Finally, however, it was done. “I have finished,” Data said. “However, we must prevent you from going into shock. Your legs are meant to be raised, but there is nothing here to do that...just stay lying down, that should be sufficient.” 

He gathered up the shirts of his fellow crew members and carefully laid them across Riker, in an effort to keep him warm until they could beam back up. 

They stayed in the cave for nearly thirty minutes, unable to get a signal. Commander Riker’s face was growing steadily paler, and every few minutes Worf would have to tap his face to make sure he was still awake. 

The away team sat in silence around the commander, none of them entirely sure what to do beyond try to keep their ‘patient’ awake.

Finally, finally, the dust storm passed, and suddenly Picard’s voice was coming through Riker’s combadge.

“Commander Riker, report! Do you hear me?”

Data grabbed Riker’s discarded, bloody shirt and took the combadge off of it. He tapped it. “Data to Picard,” he said. “Five to beam directly to sickbay.” It was only logical for all of them to go, they may have inhaled something dangerous during the storm. 

Within seconds, they were all in sickbay, Riker still lying down, the rest of the team crouched around him.

Doctor Crusher ran to them immediately, taking in the pallor of the commander’s face and the crude stitches in his side, and noting the discarded shirts of the entire team. 

“What happened? The Captain said there was a dust storm on the planet, but how in the world did you wind up giving Commander Riker stitches?”

Data explained their situation as best as he could, while around them members of the medical team lifted the commander onto a bed and began working on his wound. 

“We did not have much of a choice,” he said. “We did not know how long we would be unable to contact the ship, and we could not have let the commander bleed out.”

“Well, we’ve got him now,” said Doctor Crusher. “And he’s going to be just fine, thanks to your quick thinking.”

Data found himself...not feeling anything, as he could not feel, but there was something there, something that was...different. His quick thinking-obviously he thought quick, he was an android, but it had been him to save the commander. He attempted a warm smile at the doctor, who smiled back. “Good job, Data.”

this ending SUCKS but oh well sorry

[writehardwhumpharder]

OC drabble - Carson Migraine

I actually have a few drabbles written about these characters but I'll probably post them out of order.

He pinched the bridge of his nose until the bones under his face throbbed, then released it to feel a few seconds of relief. He was used to headaches and migraines of all variety. This one felt like all of them combined. Carson was almost certain that his brain was on fire but he couldn't let that distract him now. Not when there was work to be done.

Carson sat in a booth opposite Henry Morris, Riley's partner and superior. This wasn't the conversation he thought he'd be having right now. The warm smile Morris usually wore had turned ice cold. The lines in his face seemed deeper, giving him the hard look you'd expect a detective like him to have. Carson's mind started to wander, imagining Morris as one of those detectives in a mystery noir story, complete with saxophone undertones and lots of dramatic shadows. He'd wear some long black trench coat and a hat to hide his face as he walked down dark streets and alleys in the rain. His already deep voice would take on a husky tone as he slid up to the bar, ordering a whiskey, neat-

"Are you even listening to me, Mr. Hall?" Morris said, making an obvious effort not to raise his voice. Carson snapped out of his daydream and shuddered with concern for several reasons. One: Morris had called him by his last name. Two: This headache was making him way more delirious than when he initially left his apartment. And three: It was getting worse, if that was even possible.

They sat in a diner halfway between his place and the precinct. Morris had brought some ominous manilla folders with him but had the decency not to open them up until the coffee arrived at their table. Carson stared down at his mug, carefully avoiding Morris's gaze.

"Yeah I'm listening." He said flatly as he ran his hand over his forehead for the millionth time since they sat down. A photo was forcefully nudged in his direction. He didn't have to look at it long to notice it was a picture of him.

"Wow, who's this ugly prick?" Carson said jokingly. Morris didn't look amused.

"Care to explain what you were doing at the site of a murder without police supervision?"

At least Carson went to scope the place out after the police had taken all their samples. Morris knew he didn't murder anyone, but it still didn't look very good for him.

"I was looking for residual energies that might indicate who the killer was. You're welcome." Carson said. His headache was wearing down his patience along with his ability to filter himself.

Morris was seething. Before he could leap across the table and start strangling Carson the waitress approached them, visibly nervous.

"Um, can I get you two anything to eat?" She asked timidly. The girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.

"I'll get the #5 eggs and sausage." Morris said, suddenly sounding friendly and polite again. She turned to Carson who sighed before shaking his head.

"No thanks, I'll stick with coffee."

"Make that two #5's please." Morris added as the girl turned to leave. Then he looked pointedly at Carson, "You're too skinny."

He scowled at him.

"Yes, sir." She mumbled and walked back to the kitchen.

They were both silent for a second. Carson spun the little black stirring straw in his coffee idly. The thought of food repulsed him at the moment but he didn't argue.

"Where were we?" Carson asked innocently. Morris caught his gaze, staring daggers. Said daggers went on to pierce through his skull, settling behind his eyes. This headache was starting to get distracting.

"Trespassing on a crime scene is illegal. I'm a cop. And you're going to answer my questions, either here or in an interrogation room." Morris said coolly. This was the first time Carson had disrespected him outright and he wasn't having any of it. "I've been lenient with you before, Mr. Hall, but I have to draw the line somewhere."

Carson took a second to process that. The right thing to do would be apologize and kiss his ass but that wasn't really Carson's style.

"Is this going somewhere?" He said, every bit of boredom evident in his voice. He just didn't have the energy to defend himself when all he was doing was help the case. Literally, his life energy needed time to recuperate, especially after being forced to use it this frequently. Morris was silent until Carson finally dragged his eyes up to meet his. The older man slowly eased a pair of handcuffs onto the table between them.

"Which is it going to be?"

Carson eyed them cautiously, struggling a little to focus on them. The migraine was causing the light reflecting off the metal to strobe and shake.

"I forget, are the chairs at the station more comfortable than this god awful wooden bench? Who designed this anyway..." He said it with genuine curiosity, his mind wandering away again. He was still looking down at the bare wooden bench in disgust when Morris snapped, grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head down on the table twice. He could have done it a lot harder if he had wanted to. A few gasps arose throughout the diner. It had come out of nowhere, surprising everyone, including Carson. Morris made his point very clear, grabbing the cuffs from where they rested on the table, starting to stand.

Carson however stayed sitting down, staring straight ahead in shock. He slowly brought his hands up to rest on the sides of his head. The impact was little more than a tap but the motion was enough knock a screw loose in his head. The migraine he had before increased ten-fold, pressure exploding at his temples.

"What.. the hell." Said Carson. It took all his energy to choke out the words. Morris's lips were moving in response but a high pitched ringing in his ears made it nearly impossible to hear him. A full body shiver passed through him, starting at his head and traveling down through his feet. Fingers snapped in front of his face as Morris tried to get his attention. Carson didn't even look at him. It felt like his head was being split open. He moved one hand to touch his forehead with a wince. As he looked back down at the table he noticed a few red splotches on the paper mat in front of him. "What the hell..." he repeated, slurring this time.

Morris's hand found his shoulder, nudging it gently. Carson made a pathetic attempt to swat it away before bringing both hands up to his head again, digging his palms into his eyes.

"Jesus christ, I barely touched him." Morris defended himself to the staff, flashing his badge in the process. Carson made small pained noises as his entire upper body started trembling. If he was aware of the blood dripping from his nose he didn't seem to care enough to do anything about it. Morris swore, grabbing a napkin off a small stack to dab at his face. Carson gritted his teeth at the touch.

"Come on Carson, enough messing around." Said Morris, "what's wrong with you?" He asked more out of necessity than concern.

"What's... wrong... with me?" Carson forced the words out slowly with more effort than it should have taken, "what.. is wrong-" he winced, "with you?"

"Listen to me, kid, I meant what's wrong with your head?" He tried again with an impatient sigh.

"Not a kid. I'm 27." Carson mumbled. Even now he managed to be obnoxiously stubborn. Morris's face softened finally, seeing Carson was in pretty rough shape already.

"Let's just go to the station. You can clean up your face and I'll let you sit on the couch in my office and everything, come on." He grabbed Carson's arm, trying to coax him out of the booth. Or at least elicit some kind of response. Carson moaned in pain at the subtle movement to his head.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Carson knew that sitting absolutely still for the rest of the foreseeable future wasn't a realistic option. Laying down on the couch in his office did sound awfully nice. So did the pristine leather seats in his car.

"Okay, fine." Carson said quietly. He scooted out to the edge of the booth preparing to stand. That small action caused him almost enough pain to make him black out. Curling in on himself Carson laid his head down on the table, closing his eyes. "On second thought, just leave me here. I'm never moving out of this spot. Go on without me." Carson mumbled, slurring on a few words. Morris rolled his eyes at the melodrama and hoisted Carson up from the table to drag him to the station if need be. Despite being held up by the strong man Carson wobbled, his face growing intensely pale. Morris was afraid he was going to throw up or pass out. Carson had come to more or less the same conclusion.

People don't understand the cost of magic. If someone just let him get some god damn sleep he wouldn't be in this mess. The last time Carson felt this bad was when he performed several "miracles" with his healing abilities, in a span of three days. All in an attempt to pay for college. Which it did, all the way through graduate school. The strain it put on his body kept him in the hospital for a few days but he recovered.

Soul magic can use life energy the way you would use any other kind of energy. But that was unnatural. It took more effort and manipulation, like trying to swim up stream. Transfering it between living beings came easily. Using it to send a wave of force, move objects, or shield himself was immensely difficult. As long as he didn't take too much out of his own life force at one time he'd recover no problem, if he was given the chance.

Morris's car was parked right out front so once Carson was on his feet he started dragging him out the door, depositing him in the passenger seat of his honda civic as quickly as he could. Carson groaned, keeping one hand clutching at his head at all times.

"Fucking hell." He whined. His head was killing him. Morris turned on the AC and helped him recline his seat so he could lay down more. Carson wasn't looking forward to going to the police station. It seemed unfair to have to answer stupid questions while on the brink of death. Okay maybe not, but it sure felt like it. A few minutes later the car stopped and Carson looked up to see his own apartment building. Sitting up caused some more blood to pour out of his nose, getting on his grey shirt. Another diner napkin appeared under his nose and Carson took it, holding it there. Morris got out and walked around the car before opening the door for him. His hands felt weak but Carson managed to find his seatbelt and unbuckle it from his lap. Morris moved forward as if to help him up but Carson hissed, pinching his nose.

"Just.. give me a second."

It was more than a minute before the world stopped spinning enough for Carson to feel confident he could move. He braced one hand on the rim of the door in an effort to push himself up. Not wanting to waste any more time Morris grabbed his other arm to pulled him the rest of the way slowly. He kept one arm around his waist as they walked to the door. Carson staggered up the stairs, almost falling down a couple times. His head was pounding like crazy but he had plenty of experience trying to get into his apartment in a less than optimal state such as this one. He was known for being a bit of a lightweight. He gave the buzzer for his neighbor Daniel's apartment a quick tap four times, so he'd know it was him, instead of fishing around in his pocket for keys. The door clicked open immediately. Carson went to open it, moving a little too quickly. Pain erupted in his head again and Morris's grip on him tightened as his knees buckled momentarily.

"Alright, almost there."

Carson went back to holding his aching head with both hands and stopped trying to figure out what was going on all together. He did what any logical person would do and sank down to sit on the floor in the hallway. Someone next to him sighed and started searching his jacket pockets for house keys. Morris found it and opened the door on the first try. Carson looked up in dismay. It took him at least three tries to open that stupid door on a good day.

Morris's icy stare was long gone and his face seemed to be painted with genuine worry. For good reason too. Carson hummed to himself, keeping one hand on my aching skull while using the other one to inch forward on the floor. It was pathetic to watch really. Morris held the door open with his foot and grabbed Carson under the arms, dragging him to his feet. It felt like he was doing that a lot lately. Carson swayed and whimpered quietly, allowing himself to be guided into his apartment. The familiar dim lighting and smell of his citrus room freshener left Carson feeling tired. He was so close to his bed, he could just lay down, close his eyes...

His stomach clenched suddenly, the amount of pain in his head alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach. This type of thing happened on occasion. He spun and ducked into the bathroom to the left of the front door and slammed the door shut. Morris could hear muffled sounds of vomiting from the other side. To give him a little privacy he wandered through the large room that was Carson's entire apartment, turning his bedside lamp on and filling a glass with water.

Carson emerged from the bathroom looking especially pale and shaky. He stripped off his jacket and sweater on his way through his living room.

"Do me a favor and grab the pill bottle above the sink." Carson kicked off his boots and fell onto his bed eagerly. His head hurt just as much here as it did anywhere else, yet he was ten times more comfortable. Morris walked through the gap in the bookshelves to enter Carson's "bedroom" holding a glass of water, the pill bottle, and a box of crackers. He set it all on the nightstand.

"That's a pretty heavy duty painkiller you've got there." Morris commented with some suspicion.

"It's got my name on it doesn't it?" Carson asked dryly. It was a rhetorical question. He didn't hesitate to pop two in his mouth and swallow them down with the water. "You can go now." He added, closing his eyes.

"Drink that water and try to eat some of those crackers. I expect to see you at the station tomorrow. Don't think you're getting out of this."

"Make it Wednesday." Carson groaned. He needed sleep and he needed a lot of it. Morris growled quietly to himself and left, locking the door on his way out.

Carson pulled the curtains closed over the window above his bed. It was still midday and very sunny outside. He needed a dark, cold place to recover. It was finally getting cold enough outside that he could roll himself up in his duvet and not sweat to death. It took him a while to relax enough to actually fall asleep but once he did he sunk into a senseless oblivion.

[quicksilversquared]

How to Fake a Marriage: Ch. 34

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(AO3) (FF.net)

--(quick note: there was a time skip between ch. 33 and 34 of several months)--

"Shoot, I'm gonna be late!"

Abbey laughed as Marinette frantically shuffled papers around, trying to get everything into some semblance of order before she left. An embroidery sample tumbled off of the desk and onto the floor, and she scooped it up to hand back to Marinette. "You could just watch the vlog later, you know. Like the rest of us non-Frenchy people."

"Alya would know, and Alya would end me." Marinette found the last of the papers she needed and shoved them into her bag. "And she was hinting something about doing something special since Adrien's birthday is coming up, either during the vlog itself or later in the week."

Abbey grinned at her. "Are you doing anything special for your boy's birthday?"

"Of course. You saw what I was making for him." Abbey had been kind enough to let Marinette use her apartment- well, the balcony on her apartment- when she was screenprinting Adrien's gift, so that Adrien wouldn't suspect anything. "And I'll be baking a cake tonight, and then his birthday dinner on Saturday. He didn't want anything too crazy, since he's got schoolwork to focus on." Marinette glanced at the clock again and eeped. "I gotta go! See you later!"

Marinette raced out of the building, waving to her other coworkers as she passed. She slung the strap of her bag over her head as she headed down the road, just barely on the edge of running. There were probably a few people staring, but that didn't matter.

Alya's fifth travel vlog was going to start in seven minutes, and Marinette was not going to miss it.

There was a minute left before the start by the time Marinette had raced up the last of the stairs and burst into her and Adrien's apartment. At the table, Adrien glanced up from the computer and lit up when he saw her.

"I was starting to think that you wouldn't make it!"

"I got in a designing groove and lost track of time," Marinette apologized. She plopped down in the chair next to Adrien. "Tikki was the one to remind me that it was time to go."

"Good job, Tikki," Adrien said with a laugh. He grinned at the small god as she popped out of Marinette's purse. "Otherwise, I bet Marinette wouldn't have remembered until Alya texted her wondering what she thought of the vlog."

Marinette spluttered. "You could have reminded me too, you know!"

Adrien shrugged. "Sure, I could have. But I figured that you were probably on a design kick, and I didn't want to interrupt you. Besides, the vlog will get posted later on. You could have watched it then, and Alya would have just had to wait for your reply."

Marinette just shrugged. She knew that Alya always posted the vlogs once the livestream had ended (and then she would give them English subtitles once she had the time, which usually meant while she was traveling). "I know. But I wanted- oh! Here she goes!"

"Welcome, everyone!" Alya exclaimed as the screen came to life and showed her sitting in a small room. She was wearing a new outfit- a light, loose top with wide sleeves and gorgeous designs on it, probably something that she had just bought. For once, her long hair was tied up, presumably because of the heat. "And hello from Egypt! I've been here for the past week, learning more about the Egyptian Ladybug. And the first thing to know- she was known as the Goddess Ladybug! Like our current-day Ladybug, she had a yo-yo as a weapon. And as you might know from one of my earliest Ladyblog videos, she kept the king at the time from sacrificing an innocent person in order to try to bring back his dead love. She also kept her community safe from wildlife and any attackers. Very cool!"

"She also kept the community safe from evil spirits that looked like animals to normal people," Tikki piped up. "Most of the time, wildlife didn't come particularly close to where the people were! There was too much activity for them."

"She was the sworn enemy of the king after she kept him from completing his attempt to bring back Nefertiti, but guards were very reluctant to go after someone who was seen as a goddess!" Alya continued. "I've got some photos of some of the papers describing her and what she did. I'll post those later. But first, let me catch everyone up on what I've been doing!"

"I'm glad she's enjoying herself," Adrien said as Alya chattered on about the tours she had gone on and the experts she had talked to (through her translator, of course). "And I'm glad the newspaper is letting her post these on the Ladyblog instead of limiting her. I suppose it reaches a slightly different audience than her newspaper blurbs?"

Marinette shrugged. "Maybe? Actually- yeah, I think you're right. The pieces she does for the newspaper tend to be more cultural pieces, instead of strictly focused on her research. And not everyone looks at the Ladyblog, so it won't conflict with her piece at the end."

Marinette had to admit that it was a great way to keep the Ladyblog active and relevant now that she and Adrien- and by extension, Ladybug and Chat Noir- were out of the country. It was fresh content with new holders, and as a bonus the renewed traffic meant that Alya could get a decent amount of money from advertising on the Ladyblog. That could either go towards her savings, or be earmarked for helping with the cost of any future Miraculous research.

"Can you say hi from us?" Marinette asked as Alya started flipping through the comments for questions to answer. "And tell her not to get kidnapped by anyone wanting to use her for a sacrifice this time."

Adrien laughed as he typed exactly that. "She's going to complain and say that that's not her fault, you know."

"It was entirely her fault. She should have stayed hidden instead of running out and then getting distracted when we arrived."

"Okay, it was not my fault that I got kidnapped, Adrien and Marinette," Alya said only seconds later, and they both snickered. "Okay, maybe I could have paid a little more attention to my surroundings and- okay, okay, yeah, maybe I could have left a little more space between myself and the fight, but how else was I supposed to get good footage? And I was fourteen, so stop bugging me about it. Anyway, on to the next question, from Lindsay-"

"It's always about the good footage with her," Marinette sighed. "I'm just glad that Lucky Charm always fixed things. Otherwise, she would have been in serious trouble."

Adrien nodded in agreement.

Five minutes later, Alya signed off. "I have a meeting and dinner with a local historian that's going to tell me even more about what other kinds of things the Goddess Ladybug did," she told the audience. "Feel free to leave any more burning questions, and I'll see if I can find the time to make and post a short video answering as many of them as I can! No promises, though, since I have a lot on my schedule, and I also need to get some cool stuff posted, in honor of my friend Adrien's birthday coming up. Stay Miraculous, everyone! Bye!"

"That was nice," Tikki said. She swallowed the rest of the cookie that she had grabbed from the kitchen halfway through the webcast and wiped the crumbs from her mouth. "Some of the details aren't exactly correct, but it was a long time ago and my holder didn't exactly share everything with her people. In fact, she never even corrected the idea that she was a goddess. She just said that she was needed elsewhere and then retired once the last of the demons were driven from the area and the king had died."

Adrien grinned. "That's clever. I think everyone figured out that we're not immortal gods, though."

Plagg, who had been napping in the sun, squinted over at Adrien. "Speak for yourself, kid."

"He was," Tikki said in exasperation. "Really, Plagg, if you listened-"

Adrien put the computer away as Marinette headed into their kitchen to start dinner, both of them ignoring the bickering kwamis. She stepped out of Adrien's way automatically as he joined her, reaching past her to grab a knife to cut up an onion.

It made her smile to think about how comfortable they were together. Even out of the suits and in a non-fighting environment, they were truly a team. Part of her had been a little worried when they first officially moved in together that somehow they would run into problems that they hadn't had when they had her apartment as a backup, but so far, those fears seemed unfounded.

Subleasing her apartment to Abbey and then turning it over completely once the end of her lease hit at the start of the fall had been a great decision.

"Should I get this browning?" Adrien asked. He shook the cutting board filled with sliced onion at her. "Or is the meat not ready yet?"

"It's ready!" Marinette grabbed her own cutting board and made a few more quick cuts. "Or close enough, at least. But it'll need garlic, too."

"Got it!"

  "Adrien, fingers away from the frosting."

Caught, Adrien's hand retracted from the bowl. He pouted at her.

"Not even a little taste?"

"Not until I'm done frosting the cake, you can't!"

"But Tikki has!"

Marinette spun around to see a pouting Tikki flying after Adrien. "You told! I told you not to tell on me!"

"That was only valid if I got some frosting, too!"

"Both of you, out of the kitchen," Marinette ordered. "Plagg is the only one allowed, since he isn't stealing anything."

Adrien snorted, even as he stepped out of the kitchen area and Plagg smugly zipped in, carrying his rice heating bag. "Princess, Plagg steals from us whenever we're making anything with cheese in it."

"But I'm not making anything with cheese in it right now, am I?" Marinette took the bag from Plagg and popped it in the microwave to heat it up for him before he could start to whine. "So he's allowed. You two will get any leftovers, but you have to wait. And Adrien, don't you have stuff to work on anyway?"

"Yeah, I guess. But the siren call of sugar summoned me to the kitchen when I started working on it."

Marinette hastily muffled a laugh before Adrien could interpret it as an invitation to return to the kitchen. She returned to trimming her cakes and cutting them in half to fill with frosting and chunks of chocolate. The microwave dinged and she removed Plagg's heat pack, setting it where he would be out of the way. Plagg let out a delighted little trill and settled down, smirking at a pouting Adrien and Tikki.

Adrien's birthday cake was a two-tiered chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream, with chunks of chocolate between the layers. He had insisted that she didn't have to go all-out decorating it, but, well...

It was something Marinette enjoyed doing, and besides, she wasn't exactly running short on time now that she only had one commission to work on. She could spare the entire evening to make and decorate a cake for Adrien.

"I'm so glad that I don't have quite as many papers and other writing things to do this semester," Adrien said as Marinette finished trimming and crumb coating the bottom layer, which promptly went into the fridge. She had to push a few things out of the way, but it would work. "And Ben said that next semester should be similar."

"I still don't fully understand why they couldn't have balanced the writing-heavy classes out more." Adrien had explained it before, about how some classes were prerequisites for others and how they got more into the research-y classes later in the program. But she still thought that something could have been done to keep Adrien from practically drowning under papers for two semesters. "Or at least have the professors talk to each other and adjust assignments accordingly."

Adrien just shrugged. "I learned a lot, though. It's all important stuff to know and I don't know if I can really think of much anything that could have been dropped or scaled back at all without affecting how much I learned. I'm just glad that year is over." He grinned. "And more electives this year! I like getting a little more freedom to choose my classes."

"Yeah, that was my favorite part of uni, too." Marinette started stacking the second layer of cakes, slightly smaller than the first. She had chocolate chunks left over, which she dumped in the bowl with all of the cake trimmings. With the layers stacked, she started trimming the edges to make them more even. "I took some costume-making courses just for fun, since I had space in my schedule thanks to the summer courses I took. Those were absolutely great, and I learned some techniques that I've been using on my commissions."

"Ooh! Did you have outfits that you actually made during those, then?"

Marinette glanced over. Adrien had apparently forgotten his homework in favor of watching her. Either that, or he was deliberately procrastinating. She was rather suspecting the latter. "Yeah, of course. I'll show you next time we're back in Paris. Most were tailored to my size, since I didn't really know anyone going to any costume parties or anything." She was surprised that she hadn't shown Adrien her costumes already, but maybe he had been busy when she modeled them for Nino and Alya. "It's too bad we didn't talk about this before we went back to Paris in September. I think the next time we'll both be in Paris will be- what? Christmas, probably?"

"Probably."

Marinette made a face as she started to crumb-coat the second layer. They had gone back to Paris several times over the summer- twice before Alya left, once shortly after, and once right before Adrien had to start his next semester. The first two had, of course, been to visit Alya before she took off for six months. The third visit had been to visit Nino, to distract him from Alya's absence, and the forth had been for Adrien's now-annual end-of-summer photoshoot for his father. Marinette had tagged along for part of the time, and they both visited with Nino and their other friends while they were there. Adrien had gone over to her family's house several times, and it would have been the perfect time to show him all of the costume pieces she had made while in university.

Ah, well. It would have to wait until Christmas, then.

They both worked in silence for a few minutes. The second layer of the cake went in the fridge while Marinette colored some of the frosting for piping. The layers came out for a final coat of buttercream, then they got stacked. Marinette felt Adrien's presence come up behind her again as she considered the cake, trying to decide where to start with the decorations.

"I'm not done yet, kitty," she chided playfully. "No trying to steal anything. Plagg, keep an eye on him."

"Turning my own kwami against me!" Adrien exclaimed in mock offence. "And no trust, to boot. I just wanted to watch you work your magic."

"Uh-huh. So why are your fingers creeping towards my frosting bowl again?"

"I thought it was the scraps!"

Marinette just shook her head and grinned as she turned back to work, starting to frost the first flower on the lower tier. She would have to use the short step stool she had bought to be able to decorate the top of the cake properly, but that could come later. She kept the corner of one eye on Adrien, making sure he didn't try to sneak any of the frosting.

She would have some left over, she already knew that. But she had been planning on mixing it together with the cake scraps for another treat that they could have before Adrien's birthday dinner. Adrien just had to be patient first.

Adrien was yawning by the time Marinette had piped the last flower onto the top of the cake. His arms snaked around her waist as she stepped back from the cake. "That looks incredible, Bug. Need any help putting it away?"

"No, I just have to cover it and then it'll be fine." Marinette picked up the large cake box she had grabbed earlier in the week and opened it, carefully lowering it over her work until it reached the table. "We'd be in trouble if I had to keep it in the fridge. We have no space."

"Haven't you kept other cakes in the fridge before?"

Marinette had to think about it for a second. "Maybe, yeah? I think I've put fruit in between the layers before and then it has to go in or the fruit will spoil. But this just has the buttercream and chocolate."

"Ah." Adrien yawned again. "I think I'm going to go get ready for bed." He shot a hopeful look at the frosting bags on the counter. "Unless I could have some frosting first?"

Marinette giggled. "How about you go get ready and then come back out here before brushing your teeth? Then the frosting will be ready for your tasting."

Adrien grinned. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, then obediently dashed off towards their bedroom. Marinette tried to smother her grin as she started to clean up, fondness for her boyfriend welling up as she giggled over his childlike eagerness.

As soon as Adrien was gone, Tikki popped over. "Ooh! Leftovers!"

Marinette snatched the bowl of scraps away before Tikki could dive in. "Patience! Let me finish mixing this up first, and then you and Adrien can have some."

Tikki let out a little squeal of excitement and went to perch on the fridge, watching Marinette as she carefully squeezed and scraped all of the extra frosting into the scraps bowl. The rest of the dishes got washed up, and then Marinette turned her attention back to the leftovers. The bits of cake got broken up as she stirred, working until it was only a little bit chunky. She pulled out an ice-cream scoop and made up a bowl for herself and Adrien, and a smaller bowl for Tikki. Plagg got a chunk of Camembert.

"Oh, I love you," Adrien said happily as soon as he returned to the kitchen and was handed his bowl of cake and frosting mix. "This is amazing, Marinette. Never mind the actual cake, this is great."

Marinette laughed at Adrien's contented expression. "Ah-hah! So that's the real reason that you're dating me, for the sweets!"

"Mm-hmm." Adrien leaned over to kiss her. "And you're the sweetest of them all. The treats are just a bonus."

Her cheeks turned red at that and she ducked her head. Adrien just grinned.

  Adrien was having a very, very good day. He had had a lie-in that morning- Saturdays were the best- his favorite dish for lunch, and now his friends from school (plus a few of Marinette's co-workers that he knew well) were coming over for dinner. The weather had been lovely, and he had spent part of the afternoon reading out on the balcony.

In short, it was the perfect way to spend his birthday, and it wasn't even over yet.

Adrien set the table as Marinette worked on adding the finishing touches to dinner and a few appetizers. It would be a tight fit with six of them at a table meant for four, but they would make it work. He and Marinette were used to being up in each other's space all the time anyway, so they would be together on one of the cramped sides.

"Oh, there were two packages for you in the mail today," Marinette called over. "One from Nino, and one from Alya."

Adrien perked up. "Birthday presents?"

"I assume so."

It wasn't long before Ben arrived, followed by Paul. Sarah and Abbey, the two of Marinette's coworkers that Adrien knew best and was friends with, arrived five minutes later. They were grinning and giggling over something.

"I'm not even going to ask," Adrien said dryly as he greeted them. He knew both of the women knew about his relationship with Marinette, and they were likely giggling over some sort of joke about it. "I'm glad you could make it."

Sarah grinned. "We heard that Marinette would be baking and we didn't want to miss it," she told him. "And I suppose we wanted to wish you a happy birthday, too."

Adrien just grinned. He couldn't lie- he wouldn't turn down an opportunity to have Marinette's baking, either, even if he had to sit through something boring in order to eat.

Not that his birthday dinner would be boring, per say. Just that he wouldn't blame them for coming just for the cake. Adrien could definitely confirm that the cake would make pretty much anything fully worth it. They had sampled the leftovers mix again after lunch, and it was every bit as delicious as Adrien remembered.

He was going to have to hit up the gym at the university after this if he wanted to stay in modelling shape, but again- so worth it.

"I'll have snacks out in a minute," Marinette called from the kitchen. "I just have a few more things to get ready."

Adrien promptly trotted over to check on Marinette. She had only just pulled a few cheeses out of the fridge. She was sliding a round of Brie into the oven and rolling a chunk of goat cheese in a mix of dried cranberries and nuts. Adrien could see where the cheeses would go- there were crackers and apples on a platter, with a shallow dish for the Brie to go on once it came out.

It was also obvious why she hadn't gotten it started earlier. With their guests there, Plagg couldn't venture out to steal the cheese. If Marinette had pulled the cheese out before, there would be chunks missing before it ever reached the table. With the goat cheese, it probably wouldn't ever reach the table.

"Anything I can do to help?" Adrien asked. "Or is it a matter of just waiting for the Brie at this point?"

"It's just the waiting, mostly." Marinette placed the goat cheese log on the platter. "I have a few things to cut up yet, but I can get it done in under ten minutes."

"I can help, and then you can come out and socialize." Adrien stepped around Marinette to reach for some pita bread. She had made it earlier in the day, and Adrien had been itching to get his hands on it ever since. "How many pieces to a round?"

"I was thinking six."

Adrien nodded and started cutting as Marinette put the finishing touches on the other trays. Soon enough, only the Brie was left, with six minutes left before it could come out. Adrien and Marinette stepped out of the kitchen, Adrien heading over to where Paul and Ben were standing and Marinette going to join her coworkers.

"-so I'll have to go back for a Masters to get much higher in the lab, but for now it's a great way to put everything I learned to use and really see it in action properly. I also get to see what kinds of research are going on and what new ideas are being thought up- y'know, what kind of questions are being asked. It's interesting to hear about, and it really gets me thinking about what kind of things I might want to look into, if there are any questions I want to answer." Ben shrugged. "Right now, it seems most everything I come up with is already answered or being looked into, but that's fine. I'm still learning the ropes."

"I wish I could have gotten an internship at one of the Physics research labs over the summer. It sounds like a great experience." Paul looked envious. "But I guess there's next year. I'll just fix up my resume in the meantime."

"There's people in the Tutoring Center that can help you with that, you know."

Paul looked interested. "Really?"

"Is that where you picked up all of those formatting tips?" Adrien asked, joining their conversation. Ben had helped him with his resume the previous year, polishing it up and making it look properly professional instead of, well, a beginning uni student's resume. "They really helped make mine look a whole lot better. Before, it was just kind of meh."

"Same with mine," Ben told him. "But yeah, it was something I learned there. It's funny how a few changes can make something like that go from boring to crisp and professional, huh? They're not even big changes."

"Oh, my god. Are they seriously talking resumes right now?"

All three of them glanced up to see Marinette, Sarah, and Abbey giving them an exasperated look. Adrien just grinned.

"What, and you three weren't talking fashion two minutes ago?" he teased. He raised an eyebrow when all three shook their heads. "Really?"

"We talk about other stuff, too," Abbey informed him, still grinning. "Sarah was telling us about how her father decided to dig up a stump in front of their house. Apparently it's a little more work than he was anticipating."

Paul looked puzzled. "Wait, why are they digging it up?"

"They want to plant another tree, and there's not enough space to plant it elsewhere." Sarah shrugged, looking amused. "And my dad wanted to make sure that the old roots wouldn't get in the way, so he dug out this giant pit to try to get all of the roots that he could from the top meter or so. And it was a big tree when it died, so it had pretty large roots, too. My uncle decided to turn a couple of them into cutting boards, since the wood was still good."

"Why did the tree come down in the first place?"

Sarah made a face. "It died. Or it was on the way out, at least. There was one really large branch that was dead and the rest was really skimpy on the leaves, so my parents had it cut down before it could come down in a storm and damage the house or something. And now they can plant a new tree sooner and get it growing."

"And they couldn't hire someone to dig it out...why?"

Sarah laughed. "My dad figured he could do it himself," she told them as the timer went off in the kitchen and Marinette let out a yelp and dashed off. "And he did, to be fair. It was just more work than he was expecting."

Paul looked incredulous. "How could he not expect digging up a bunch of tree roots to be a lot of work?"

Conversation petered off a bit as snacks were brought out ant everybody moved over to fill up a plate. Adrien helped himself to several crackers heaped with melted Brie, relishing in the flavor. It was a simple snack he rarely got to have, since Plagg refused to share his baked cheeses at all and any attempts to make it for himself resulted in Plagg claiming the cheese within seconds of it coming out of the oven and eating half of it before Adrien could open the bag of crackers to go with it.

Maybe they would just have to have snacks like this every time they had people over. Plagg would sulk later on about it, but he would manage.

"So you've gotten assigned a new tutor, right?" Ben asked after everyone had been eating for a few minutes. "I think I remember you telling me something about that."

Adrien nodded. He had gotten a new tutor, since it had worked out so well the previous year. "Yeah. I've only had a few meetings with him so far, but it seems to be working out all right. Except he's a grad student, and he already said that he can't edit my papers since he TAs for a couple of the courses and it would be a conflict of interest or something."

"I can look at your papers if you want," Ben assured him. "It's no problem, as usual. And I think he might just be misunderstanding what you want. It's not the content that you need a second set of eyes for, it's the writing."

"I think he's just trying to dodge out of the work," Paul chimed in. "I know the guy Adrien's talking about, and he hates teaching others. He'd rather just spend the time on his own project."

"He does a decent job with the teaching, though," Adrien objected. Sure, he was no Ben and Adrien didn't think they would ever develop the same rapport that he and Ben had, but his grad student tutor did do a good job of tutoring.

With him, at least. Ben had mentioned before that it was easy to tutor Adrien, so perhaps it was a matter of Adrien's learning style just working well with the way his tutor taught.

"Again, I'm guessing that he thinks there would be some fairly heavy edits needed," Ben told them. "Like step-by-step walking through, even if you are in your final year and should be past that. If he knew it was just grammar and checking the bibliography-"

"He's never going to let me forget that," Adrien complained half-heartedly. "Once I messed that up. Once."

"-then he probably wouldn't mind doing it, but I really don't mind reading stuff over," Ben finished. "It's a good excuse to see you, at any rate. It's strange not seeing you at work."

"It's quieter now with the summer interns gone, I bet," Adrien commented. He and Ben had somehow ended up at the same place over the summer- Ben in a permanent entry-level position, and Adrien as a summer student intern- without realizing it beforehand. They hadn't worked together, really, but they ran into each other a lot. "Fewer people bumbling around being lost."

Ben grinned at the memory. Adrien had gotten lost on his second day, getting completely turned around on the wrong floor and having to be escorted back down to the right lab by an amused senior physicist. Ben had been nearby to see the whole thing. "Hey, at least when I started there were other people being lost. If I had started during the school year, then I would be the one weirdo new guy that couldn't find my way around."

"Like I was, since I started a week after everyone else." Even with an actual job in his field, Adrien hadn't been able to get out of this start-of-summer photoshoot. His job had been understanding and accommodating of his other work, enough that Adrien wondered if Nathalie had perhaps reached out to them.

He hoped not. He didn't want Nathalie and his father trying to interfere with his other jobs in the future, especially considering that he wanted to quit modeling once he had gotten a permanent Physics job back in Paris.

"We were trying to get Adrien over at Madam Rosalie's place last summer, but no luck," Sarah told the others. She was grinning. "We had to go with some other blond model for the latest ad campaign, but they weren't half as fun as Adrien. Absolutely no sense of humor, that guy."

The evening continued, dinner coming out after people stopped refilling their plate with appetizers as much. Once they had stuffed themselves, Adrien opened the presents he had received. Paul and Ben had both gotten him a book- Ben on a Physics study, Paul a book of puns in English- while Sarah and Abbey had brought him a gift card for a flower shop in the neighborhood. Nino had sent a CD with new music mixes, and Alya had sent several fun key chains that she had bought during her travels. His father (well, Nathalie, probably) had sent a pen.

That left Marinette's present.

"I honestly don't know what it might be," Adrien said with a laugh as he held the box by his ear, shaking it slightly. "You would think I might have at least a clue, but..."

"Okay, stop trying to guess and just open the present already," Sarah said with a laugh. "I know what it is, but then again Marinette wasn't trying to keep it a secret from me."

Adrien grinned and pulled the paper off, revealing a plain box. He opened the box and saw a t-shirt sitting on top, light green with printing across the front, reading:

√(-1) 2^3 Σ π

and it was delicious!

Adrien laughed. "Oh, I like this one," He said happily, pulling the shirt out. It was clearly screenprinted, something Marinette had designed and made. Under it was a second shirt, this one light blue. It read Where does bad light go? and then under it in a and a picture of a prism.

"Oh, that must have been hard to print," Sarah said, leaning forward. "With that many colors? Wow. I wouldn't even touch a design like that."

"It was fun to watch her do that one," Abbey told Sarah. "Lots of painter's tape was involved. That and a hairdryer."

Adrien pulled out three more shirts, all adorned with different math and science jokes. His grin got wider with each one. The last shirt had a cat pun, and he laughed and pressed an impulsive kiss to the top of Marinette's head. "Thanks, Mari. I love them!"

He was going to wear them every day. They were the best shirts he had ever owned. They weren't meant to be the height of fashion, which made them even better. They were meant to be fun.

Adrien was still grinning over his shirts when Marinette went to get the cake. The oohs and ahhs pulled Adrien's attention back to the table. Marinette was bringing the cake out slowly, candles lit and shining. She didn't seem to be struggling under the weight at all, which was impressive considering just how much cake there was. Paul and Ben dove out of the way so she could set the cake down on the table.

"Man, I normally just get a plain round cake for my birthdays," Paul said, entirely impressed. "If my parents are feeling fancy, then maybe there's sprinkles or something on top."

"My parents taught me how to decorate cakes," Marinette told him. She got the cake settled and stepped back. "They run a bakery-patisserie. My mom is even better at the delicate decorations than I am. You should see some of her creations, when she has a good amount of time to work on it."

Their guests looked suitably impressed.

Adrien blew out the candles, plucking a couple of them out and licking the frosting and cake crumbs off of them. Marinette started cutting generous slices, serving them up onto plates and passing them around the table until everyone had a piece.

"Oh, this is heaven," Sarah said happily after she had taken her first bite. "I don't know how you two stay as skinny as you are if Marinette can make stuff like this. It's so good."

"Genetic lottery," Adrien suggested. He licked a generous dollop of frosting off of his fork. "And running in the gym at school."

"Or running late, probably," Abbey joked. She grinned at Marinette. "How many days have we seen Marinette dashing in minutes before a meeting? She can move impressively fast. She just flies up the stairs."

It didn't take long for them to finish up their cake. Adrien brought plates into the kitchen while Marinette cut pieces for their guests to take home, so that they wouldn't be completely drowning under the amount of cake left. Ben helped gather up the wrapping paper for them, piling it neatly on his chair so they could throw it away later.

"Thank you all for coming," Marinette told them, handing everyone a Tupperware of cake. "We enjoyed having you over!"

"We enjoyed eating your food," Sarah told her with a laugh. "And thank you for having us."

The others nodded. One by one they left, with Abbey leaving last. She waved a cheery good-night and headed across the hall, carrying her cake. As soon as the door was closed, the kwamis materialized out of nowhere.

"I smelled cheese," Plagg complained, sniffing dramatically and floating towards the kitchen. "And no one offered any to me. Is there any left?"

"Some. I think there's a bit of Brie and a lot of the rind left-" Marinette started. Plagg let out a cheer and zipped off before she could finish.

"So much for leftovers from that," Adrien said dryly. He hadn't been expecting the leftover cheese to last, of course- cheese rarely did with Plagg in the house- but he hadn't expected Plagg to finish it up tonight.

Oh, well. At least that would mean that they wouldn't have to get any containers dirty from storing the cheese overnight. And Plagg would probably lick the plates clean, which would make them easier to wash.

Tikki blinked up at them more politely than her counterpart. "May I have some cake?"

Marinette laughed. "You didn't have enough earlier?" Still, she led the way back into the kitchen. "I'll cut you a small slice."

"If any slice could be considered small with that cake," Adrien commented with a laugh. The tiers were tall enough that even a thin slice contained a good deal of cake, which was the best way for cake to be, in Adrien's opinion. "I'll start loading the dishwasher."

Plagg was noisily slurping up the remaining bits of Brie and rind when they got to the kitchen. Adrien opened the dishwasher and started loading in their used plates while Marinette cut a bit of cake for Tikki, moved the rest of the cake back to its place in the kitchen, and covered it. Between the two of them, they got the kitchen back in shape and everything put away before long.

"Well, that went well," Adrien said around a yawn. He stretched, grinning when Marinette's eyes slid down to the exposed skin of his stomach. "Bedtime?"

"Sounds good." Marinette flicked off the lights in the kitchen and dining area, ignoring their kwamis passed out on their respective cheese and cake plates. Adrien scooped up his gifts as he passed the pile. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirts from Marinette were on top. Adrien grinned down at them again, snickering to himself a little as he noticed the little cat paws ambling around the words on the cat-pun shirt.

It was so. cute.

"I can't decide if I want to wear one of these to bed just so I can put it on right away, or if I want to save them and wear them out all week."

Marinette laughed as she followed him back to their bedroom. "I'm glad you like them."

"I love them. I'm not going to wear anything else, ever." Adrien grinned down at his shirts. Even when he got clothes from his father, they weren't unique, just one piece that was pulled before it went to stores and given to Adrien. But these were unique pieces, made just for him, handmade by his amazing, fabulous girlfriend.

Seriously. Best. Birthday. Ever.

[duhragonball]

Vento Aureo Reread, JJBA Ch. 440-447

Last year, I watched/read the entirety of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure up to that date.   It went pretty well, except I had some difficulties with Part 5.  I read Vento Aureo in March 2017, and a proper translation wasn’t completed until several months later.   For the most part, I managed to follow the story, but I had a hard time enjoying it.   The fight scenes in JoJo really depend on a clear view of the art, combined with precise narration.   So a badly translated, low-resolution scan is going to make things tough. 

In hindsight, I suppose I could have just waited for the translators to finish, but I had no idea how long that would take, and I had quality scanlations of Parts 6, 7, and 8 ready to go.  I didn’t want to wait, and I didn’t want to skip around, and I wasn’t super worried about getting the best possible experience, since I figured the anime would air by the end of the year.  Then the anime didn’t air in the fall of 2017, so I decided I could take my time and come back to re-reading Part 5 when I was ready.  

And that brings us to today.    The anime is supposed to air in October, although no one knows exactly when, and I’m kind of looking forward to seeing a JoJo anime where I’ve read the comic version beforehand.    So I want to re-read the comic properly, in order to enhance that experience. 

I’ll be tagging these posts as spoilers, and putting the bulk of it behind a cut.  The first time around, I didn’t know what was going to happen, so I could only spoil what I’d read up to that point.   This time, be advised that I intend to discuss the story as a whole.  So if you haven’t finished Part 5 then you should probably steer clear.  

All right, enough preliminaries, let’s get on with it.

Part 5 opens in Naples, Italy in March of 2001.  Jotaro Kujo sent Koichi Hirose there on a special mission to track down Haruno Shiobana, a 15-year old boarding school student.  I struggled a lot with Part 5 because up to this point, I had been watching JJBA in anime form, and the switch to comic books was a difficult transition to make.   The pacing is just different, and I had hoped that Koichi and/or Jotaro would stick around for more of the story, much like Jotaro and Joseph Joestar became fixtures in Part 4.  Indeed, the early chapters of Part 5 make it seem like a direct continuation of Part 4.   It seems only natural that Jotaro would continue looking for Stand User activity in other parts of the world, just as he did in Morioh in 1999. 

But it’s a misdirection.   Koichi gets his luggage stolen almost as soon as he arrives, and this sets off a chain of events that makes Part 5 happen, but Koichi himself isn’t at the center of it, the way he was in Part 4.   From what I can tell, the main purpose of Jotaro and Koichi’s presence in the early chapters is simply to establish information about the new JoJo that none of the other characters would know.   Koichi overhears that the guy who stole his luggage is named “Giorno Giovanna”, and he’s a half-Japanese kid whose hair recently turned blonde.  Then he realizes that Giorno has a Stand, and he quickly deduces that “Giorno Giovanna” is an Italianization of “Haruno Shiobana”.

Something I didn’t pick up on the first time around is that Jotaro really didn’t know much about Giorno at all.   He was very secretive with Koichi, and I assumed this was because he was just being discreet, but now it seems clear that he didn’t tell Koichi about Giorno’s connection to Dio because he wasn’t sure about it himself.   The Speedwagon Foundation had discovered Giorno during some sort of “research”, which I assumed dealt with Dio’s activities in the 1980′s.   They probably discovered Dio’s involvement with Giorno’s mother, and the fact that she had a son shortly afterward, but nothing more definitive than that.  So Jotaro didn’t even know if Giorno had a Stand. 

Before, I thought this was kind of a sloppy mistake to make.   Wouldn’t it be safer to assume Giorno has a Stand, and to assume he’s hostile, if not an enemy?  Why didn’t Jotaro check the kid out for himself?  It makes more sense now.   He sent Koich instead, knowing that Koichi would have an easier time getting  close to another student.  He probably expected Koichi to sneak into the boarding school and get a tissue sample that way.  Jotaro himself probably wouldn’t have gotten involved until the results of the DNA test came back.  

As for Giorno himself, he could have told Jotaro and Koichi who his father is, except he probably doesn’t know anything else about the guy.   There’s a slow trickle of information about Giorno over the first three chapters.  Koichi starts with a photo and a name, but Giorno himself bears little resemblance to either, and Koichi has to eavesdrop on some airport security guards Giorno bribed to fill in the gaps.   It’s up to Jotaro to connect the dots by revealing Giorno is Dio’s son, which begs the question of whether Giorno would pick up his father’s legacy of cartoon supervillainy.  Then we get to this scene, where Giorno gets shaken down by the local gang enforcer for protection money, and he finds a photo of Dio in Giorno’s wallet. 

I never understood the point of Giorno having a photo of his bio-dad in his wallet, but I suspect that the ambiguity of it is purpose enough in itself.   It’s a clue to the reader that Giorno is at least aware of Dio as his father.  We never learn how Giorno feels about Dio, but he must feel something towards him, or he wouldn’t carry the picture around.   One might speculate that Giorno knows a great deal about Dio, and perhaps he sympathizes with his father’s evil goals.  One might also speculate that he keeps the photo because it’s all he really has, and with no role model in his life, he might turn to evil.  

That’s really what Giorno’s character arc is about, I think.  I was frustrated with him at first because he never seemed conflicted about anything; he just barrelled on through one obstacle after another on his way to his end goal.   But just because he never seemed to question or contemplate his fate doesn’t mean that there were no questions to be answered.    It’s ultimately up to the reader to observe Giorno and figure out what he’s all about.    Is he hero or villain?   That’s why Jotaro and Koichi show up early in the story, then bow out for good.   Their job is simply to put forth the question.   They can’t answer it for us, so there’s no reason for them to stay.   We can assume that after Part 5 ends, Jotaro might meet Giorno for himself, as enemies or friends or neither, but that meeting never happens in Part 5, because that would rob Giorno of his subjectivity.

For example, I’ve heard Giorno described as introverted, but I never really understood the reasoning behind this.   Turns out it’s in the manga, but I probably didn’t pick up on it because the translation I read before was so poorly worded.  Now, I can see it clearly.   Before Giorno defeats Luca, he explains that he detests repeating himself, since it’s a waste of time to say what’s already been said.   In this flashback to his childhood, Giorno learned not to cry when his mother would leave him because he knew there was no one to hear it.  I wouldn’t have picked up on this without the translator here using the word “useless”.   From an early age, Giorno learned not to bother with certain behaviors most people take for granted, because such behaviors are useless when you’re isolated from others.  He doesn’t cry because he doesn’t think anyone will care if he does.   He doesn’t like to chit-chat because he doesn’t think other people want to listen, and he doesn’t like to repeat himself because it means the other person definitely isn’t listening.

And of course, he’s comfortable being alone, as seen here.  Before, I thought this scene was just establishing Giorno was popular with the ladies, but when he sends them away, he makes it clear that he enjoys being alone. 

And this all stems back to this panel, where it’s established that Giorno tries to read people because of how he tried to make sense of his stepfather’s abuse.  So the pieces are all clear as day.   Giorno’s introverted, undoubtedly.

I also found it a lot easier to make sense of the Giorno/Bruno Bucellati encounter.   For one thing, the colorized pages make it a lot easier to tell one guy’s Stand from the other.    Bruno’s Sticky Fingers is blue, and Giorno’s Gold Experience is... well, gold.  The better scripting also makes it clear that their fight had to be to the death.   Bruno confronted Giorno to investigate the attack on Luca, because the gang they work for couldn’t let Luca’s death go unanswered.    Once it became clear that Giorno had a Stand, Bruno couldn’t let Giorno escape, and Giorno couldn’t let Bruno report to his boss, or he’d be hunted down for the rest of his life.   This adds a sense of relief to the moment when they become allies, since the only alternative is for one of them to die. 

During the fight, Bruno gets distracted when he notices needle marks on a boy’s arm, and that gives Giorno an opening to kill Bruno, only he doesn’t take it.    Instead, Giorno points out Bruno’s hesitation, and concludes that Bruno’s loyalty to his gang is at odds with the gang’s policy of selling drugs to children. 

I found this chilling when I read it today, because the way I remembered this scene, it was Giorno finding common ground with Bruno.   But it’s not, is it?  What he’s saying here isn’t necessarily his own opinion on drug use; he’s simply deducing what Bruno’s opinion is, and using Bruno’s reaction to see if he’s correct. 

This isn’t to say that Giorno doesn’t share Bruno’s sentiments on selling drugs to children.  I just find it interesting that Giorno isn’t actually commenting on the matter directly.   He’s talking like a politician, using Bruno’s cause to justify his own.  “Help me take over the gang, and I’ll stamp out selling drugs to kids.”   It may be part of Giorno’s agenda, but it may only be a small part, and he’s simply playing that up to get Bruno on his side.  Or he could simply be telling Bruno whatever he wants to hear.  Giorno may have never spared a moments’ thought on drug use until this moment.  You really can’t tell, at least not yet...

[wayneooverton]

Memories from Kuala Lumpur – an introduction to Malaysia

Malaysia’s thriving capital city is a colorful metropolis where every culture, religion, and taste smash together to form a new modern Asia unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before. Let’s visit Kuala Lumpur!

The beating heart of Malaysia never stops, 24 hours a day it thrums along never sleeping and always alive, giving off a unique feel of energy that I haven’t really encountered in other big cities before. With a feeling of youthful ambition, Kuala Lumpur is quickly elbowing its way up the ladder of big cities demanding a visit in and of itself.

Now, I’ll be perfectly honest here; in terms of places to visit Kuala Lumpur wasn’t at the tippy top of my wishlist. But I will say it had been on my radar for years and had increasingly piqued my interest as I frequently fly through there from New Zealand overseas – it’s a popular transit city from the Pacific to, well, anywhere really.

Hello affordable long-haul flights! And I had a stunning suite at the Ritz-Carlton waiting to embrace me when I arrived instead of a grueling airport layover followed up with another long-haul flight somewhere else.

Well, I could get used to that.

This time around instead of stopping through on my usual lightning trip, I decided to give Kuala Lumpur the attention it deserves, and spent a few days exploring both its famous features and rooting around trying to find the hidden gems that you know are buried here.

And KL didn’t disappoint, holy crap! Just you wait. Are you ready?

I’ve been back home for a week, and I’m still dreaming (and drooling) over the incredible foods, stunning sites to visit, and especially the friendly people who are all but willing to shout from the rooftops of how much they love their city.

Without any irony, I can say that Kuala Lumpur is a city that enchants, if you let it.

First things first, I am a small-town country bumpkin at heart. Big cities aren’t always my jam. I’m picky. Really picky. A city has to tick almost all of my boxes for me to rave about it. Spoiler alert – KL does.

But instead of just doing up another travel blogger list of all the same spots that you totally-definitely-MUST visit on a trip to Malaysia (yawn), I wanted to try something a bit different. I want to share my favorite memories from my adventure in a new country through words and photos. I want to bring you along with me on my trip and let you feel what I felt, discover what I discovered, hated and loved what I hated and loved. What do you think?

Now, come with me on this visual and slightly verbal journey to the heart of Malaysia with 10 of my most dominating memories. And of course, don’t hold back, and let me know what you think at the end. Now, enjoy!

Laughter

Solo female travel is kinda my thing and has been for a decade. But we aren’t exclusive. I really enjoy traveling with other people who I get along with and who have similar travel values – i.e. let me be in charge and who love food. The people I explored Malaysia made the trip so much more fun than I think I would have had on my own.

I joined up with Trey Ratcliff in Malaysia as part of his very cool project 80 Stays around the World project with the Ritz-Carlton, a campaign to inspire art, creativity and presence. What a coincidence, those are all concepts that I’m all about in my own life and work!

I’ve been friends with Trey for years, a fellow American who lives near me in New Zealand, and for those of you who don’t know of him, he’s kinda of a big deal. One of the biggest photographers in the world, a bit of a humble gent who loves tech, every time we went on adventure together I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing! Now those are the people you want to be traveling with, right?

Me: “Trey, pose like a foodie blogger”

Flavors

The story of Kuala Lumpur is best experienced through food, something, of course, I never object to when traveling.

From sizzling satays to spicy rice dishes to fresh everything, all the mangos, all the coconuts, if you only come to Kuala Lumpur, let it be for the food.

An absolute mecca for foodies, the mishmash of cultures and stories here really play into building KL into a city of feasts. Famous for street food, which of course I thoroughly enjoyed, I also made sure to check out more modern fares and local haunts, always on the hunt for the next best meal.

5 Reasons Why Having a Food Allergy Shouldn’t Keep You from Traveling

Comfort

Growing up on the urban east coast in the US, the Ritz-Carlton hotels have always been a part of my childhood memories. It was a great joy for me to begin to return to them in adulthood, you know, once I evolved past the backpacker phase of my late teens and early twenties – shivers, glad that chapter is done and dusted.

Where the ancient rivers of Gombak and Klang intersect in Kuala Lumpur lies the stunningly renovated Ritz-Carlton, which let me tell you, is so cozy you might find it hard to leave and journey outside. The unaffected luxury of the Ritz guarantees a pleasant time for a traveler like me.

The friendliness of the kind souls who work here really made all of the difference for me, whether that was coming home back to my room after a long day exploring only to find a bubble bath drawn and hand-written note from my butlers (yes, plural) to the thoughtful touches hidden throughout the property, it was definitely my kind of place to escape to.

And they have a library restaurant, need I say more?

Image by Trey Ratcliff – Stuck in Customs

Fusion

Kuala Lumpur is the textbook definition of a modern-day melting pot.

Cosmopolitan and fresh, its three main ethnicities are Malay, Chinese, and Indian, all of which coexist and bring their own languages, cultures, religions, histories, traditions, and of course, foods to mix together and form a modern-day Malaysia.

While I’m no expert on commenting on cultures, I can say that this was what fascinated me the most about Malaysia, how one place would remind me of China, while others more spots in Southeast Asia. Of course it’s easiest to see when you visit some of the mosques and temples in the city, but I would recommend really opening your eyes and your heart while you’re there and asking locals to share some of what they love about their city with you.

Trust me, you’ll learn a lot.

Radiant

I’m such a sucker for colorful places – I mean, have you seen my Instagram?

A veritable rainbow in real life, I’m always drawn to the more vibrant places of the world, and Kuala Lumpur is no exception.

From the incredible street art to the street food markets to the temples, mosques and other noteworthy spots, KL embodies the philosophy of why paint in beige when you can have a rainbow?

Heat 

Kuala Lumpur is humid and hot. That’s all. Other pasty blonde folk of Scandinavian descent like me best prepare yourselves.

Scents

Kuala Lumpur is full of smells that are utterly unique and different from what I’ve grown accustomed to in the mountains of New Zealand. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but the more I travel, the more attune I become to the way places smell.

And of course memory and smell are completely intertwined.

As soon as I stepped out of the airport in KL, I was hit with the warm humidity that reminded me of my earlier trips to places like Bali and Bangkok, the urban smell of diesel and simmering fried woks.

Perhaps what was most unique was the incense in the temples. That’s what I think of the most when I remember the smell of KL.

Illuminate

Trey’s a total night-owl. I’m a bit of a grandma.

The city really gets going when the sun goes down, the temperatures drop and people come out in droves. Kuala Lumpur at night is next level, and while I struggled to stay away past 10pm and keep up with Trey on his evening wanders in search of the best views of the city at night, I did manage to make up to one of the many rooftops of the high-rises that decorate the skyline.

A trip with Trey wouldn’t be complete without one city lights photo! How did I do?

Image by Trey Ratcliff – Stuck in Customs

Exquisite

High-tea in the afternoon is very much a thing in Asia (and of course other places too), and often when I’m in these big cities I indulge. I mean, who wouldn’t?

There is just something so divine about dressing up and sitting down with friends in a beautiful space (just to enjoy yourself), sampling delicious exotic teas with smaller savory and sweet goodies. Why yes, I’ll have two of everything!

The Ritz-Carlton in KL does a fabulous afternoon tea that’s worth treating yourself to, if only to just sit and relax in the wonderfully decorated lobby lounge, but I also highly recommend taking afternoon tea at the St. Regis to see another part of Kuala Lumpur.

Rosy

It was absolutely sweltering when we made our way out of the city center to visit the Putra Mosque, a place I had heard about but really wanted to clap eyes on.

Completely pink, it’s probably one of the most memorable mosques I’ve ever been to.

For a big city that seems a bit impenetrable, Kuala Lumpur left me feeling nothing but rosy happy thoughts. My memories are all positive, filled with noodles and colors, of delicious spices and happy smiles among new friends. It’s a place I wouldn’t hesitate to return to again, and get to know a little better. Thank you Malaysia!

What do you think? Have you been to Kuala Lumpur before? What are some of your favorite memories from a recent trip somewhere? Share!

Many thanks to the Ritz-Carlton for hosting me in Malaysia – like always I’m keeping it real, all opinions are my own, like you could expect less from me. 

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