#Everest Munch

[0nl0n]

the possessed ppl doing random shi— and bs

Onion enters the kitchen tired as heck Onion: hey guys… Everest cooking somthing on the stove Everest: oh hey Onion, want some food? Onion:No…eating will only just make us weaker , let's elaborate the plan Everest: looks like some one is cranky this morning |:^ Onion: ugh! You guys are useless >:( Everest: says the person who couldn't even get the groceries. Onion: YOU LITTLE— Onion and Everest starts arguing with eachother

Meanwhile pirate

Pirate: yum, food. Huh? What is that I hear? :00 ✨️DRAMA✨️ Pirate litteraly bolts to the kitchen and starts eating popcorn he made — Pirate: Hehe >:3 can't wait for them to start roasting eachother Aurtist then comes out of her room and sees what's happening in the kitchen Aurtist: bro when will they ever stop arguing 💀💀I thought they loved talking to eachother — Pirate:idk, probably Possessed side effects and stuff. munches on some popcorn Aurtist:wait how did you get popcorn? I thought Onion banned you from getting it cause you were spending way too much of our evil plans moneys on popcorn — Pirate: I have a secret stash munch Onion notices the popcorn on pirates hand. Onion: hey, I THOUGHT I BANNED YOU— Pirate:oh no— Onion chases pirate while aurtist and everest watch as they run away. Aurtist: gee , Onion temper really got shorter after the possession— Everest: yeah, it's kinda funni lmao Aurtist: SNIFF SNIFF huh , do you smell smoke Everest: oh shoot yeah– Everest turns around to see the bacon on fire Everest: OH POOP THE BACON IS ON FIRE— Aurtist:OH GOSH—

After a little panic and putting out the fire

Onion: alright guys I'm back, this lil money spender keeps on wasting money on stupid popcorn and, huh? Why do u guys look scared as heck? Everest:uhhh, well—

Bonus lmao

After a few hours after morning.

Onion: ugh….headache… Onion gose out of her room to get some pain Killer's when she heard somthing strange Onion:huh? The music: 🎶🎵Dance on my balls A cat f**king a hand bag Yours only yours I wanna stay with Wilson Its no lie, Lisa in the crowd said: "Look Harry has A v191n4 malfunction!"🎵🎶 Onion: the f—

#possessed onion

[darrenhilll]

Click on the link and then click on follow for more of the same - please and thank you.

[waitingforspoons]

More before and after shots

I found a couple more shots of my favorite couple being extra cute, and decided to send them out before calling it a night.

#the sims 4 #the sims #sims #sims 4 gameplay #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #lennox novak #everest munch #too cute #sims 4 oc

[dsdualstudio]

教師ポイントの変更についてのお知らせ（1月15日、18日）

いつもD's Speakをご利用頂きまして、誠にありがとうございます。

1月15日・18日より、教師ポイントの設定を下記のように変更させていただきます。

＜レッスン予約時教師ポイントの変更＞

時期：既存教師　1月18日（火）、新人教師　1月15日 人数：305名＋新人教師11名

＜ご注意事��＞ ・ポイント設定は、生徒様からのレビューに加え、教師のスキル、勤務状況等より総合的に判断致します。

■110→120 Rocky

■100→110 Ambide

■90→100 Cassidy

■80→90 Cedric Chill Chu Cumin Fahima Fayre Fuge Gucci Jerika Jhordan June Kelsey Margotte Myrna Rita Shelby Skin Slovene Tessa Vheena

■75→80 Abby Ady Artiaga Channing Dana Darny Emery Freesia Frenz Hans Heidi Japhet Kimmy Leica Maeka Preen Push Raelynn Rudy

■70→80 Aricar Behati Diecybel Munch Winter

■60→70 Anson Bromine Clemence Dave Delta Deniza Emmy Filin Fornisa Fuentes Judge Lindesa Maldiv Missandei Omari Paprika Pavia Peura Riley Selenis Shaina Smitten Spirit Synne Yeddah Zinette

■50→60 Akio Alesna Alivo Anmarie Arnette Balinger Borah Carlisle Chai Ciel Drip Fe Finley Flormae Gracemae Jennelyn Joya Joymil Kavinsky Keala Liza Lormil Lovemae Mage Maineh Mayward Nythani Podrick Quinoa Ramona Ryson Sandrine Selene Senab Soleil Sorela Tory Tousidad Valkyrie Vortex Warren Wattson Yuda Zabini Zinnia Zosia Zuhie

■40→50 Mosora Wealand Ramjean Robert Huxley Borj Deon Rimsky Allburg Hermi ■新人教師40→50（1月15日） Abigail Baelish Dorothy Feather Freego Gabriela Mesmera Montage Orion Orlean Zhavia

□50→40 Brock Disney Godelyn Kate Lang Leahcim Pharsa Romer Rushel Selvig

□60→50 Blanca Cardi Carmelita Charyl Dawn Fiddle Fonzie Garmin Hasan Hennesey Jancy Karma Kenaf Kygo Lady Londrina Merci Nacho Parvani Peggy Pema Roseth Sameri Thea Triah Twila Yigal Yobany Zevlin

□70→60 Solovey

□75→60 Alchemy Aphrodite Armstrong Arrmae Arycris Beluchi Blast Delray Diamay Elaine Elise Everest Frente Jadis Jaymarc Kerlet Kimverlyn Malta Micah Musa Nebraska Odessa Onnah Pam Razoul Romoff Sundae Valentine Whistle Yoselyn

□80→70 Apechi Bastille Che Cresol Daysha Haddish Hermalyn Ilbe Jasbella Kanda Keeva Kofie Lavier Pammie Pecan Sherlock Shikainah Tallin Wennie

□100→90 Andra Bob Issa Kian Sharpay Shefra

引き続き、何卒よろしくお願いいたします。

[castielscarma]

Motel

Week 5, here is my piece:  @helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me Dean tries not to grimace as he walks through the door to the motel. The dark hasn't settled yet, and he looks over his shoulder, casting one last eye on Baby. He parked her near some trees and some bushes on the other side flank her, so she should be good.

He looks around the room. There's a bed to their left, large enough to fit two people and an off-brand flat screen hangs on the opposite wall. The wallpapers are not dirty and he can't see any tears. The carpet is thin but whole. A table with three chairs is cramped into a corner and he spots the standard mini fridge, probably empty.

Two doors at the far end lead to the other bedroom and a bathroom. He sighs, but he's not sure if it's from resignation or exhaustion. Probably both.

Done with the quick survey of the room, Dean nods to himself. “We didn't have to stop. Just a few more hours and we could've been home instead.” Dean drops the duffel bag on the floor and toes off his shoes.

“You couldn't drive straight and I'm tired. We all are. Tired and dirty.” Sam says behind him.

He turns and winks at Cas. “Check on dirty.”

“I don't think he means that kind of dirty, Dean.” Cas lets Jack inside before closing the door.

“I – Yeah, I know, Cas. I'm the bad kind of dirty, practically drowning in vamp confetti.” He's tried to clean himself as much as he could after they cleared the unusually large vamp nest but his flannel shirt and pants are caked with blood. Maybe Sam has a point. What they expected to be a milk-run had turned into a hunt that lasted hours with vamps swarming the place like flies drawn to rotten meat.

Jack chimes in.“I could have driven you home while you slept – “

“Nah, we're good Jack. Sam's right. And I don't know about you, but I'm starving.” He fishes out his cellphone. It's almost 10 pm. “Jack, find us some food. Something hot.”

Sam interjects. “If you're really hungry I saw a vending machine just outside...”

Dean is already out the door. “Be right back. Dibs on the shower!”

He comes back after a few minutes, already munching on some Doritos. “Fuck, these are the best tasting Doritos I've ever had.” Dean turns the bag around as if expecting to find something magical to explain the taste of synthetic cheese on his tongue.

Cas has already claimed the bed in the main room.

“It's the good bed? You checked, Cas?”

Cas stops unpacking his duffel bag. “I don't think it's necessary to engage in your kind of – “ He frowns as Dean grins and takes a few hurried steps, before jumping down on the bed.

The bed sings a creaking song until Dean stills. “Not the thinnest I've seen and no springs poking our asses. I say the bed is a keeper.” He wipes his hands on his pants and shouts. “Sammy, your bed is good?”

Sam sticks his head out of the other bedroom. “It's a bed, we're good. Me and Jack can sleep in it. I'm fine, Dean. Besides, I'll gladly hand over the bigger bed to you two as long as you are hands-off. The walls are thin.” Sam makes a face.

“Hey! We'd never do – “

Sam narrows his eyes and purses his lips in that familiar frown he does when he's grumpy – a frown that Dean thinks is secretly adorable.

“You do that look for Eileen too? Does it work? Maybe I'll try it on the waitresses, earn me an extra slice of pie.” Dean chuckles but stops short, wincing as the pain in his side reminds him of a particularly nasty kick he received from a vampire.

“Dean?” Jack's concerned voice reaches him but he waves it away.

“I'm fine, it's nothing. Just a vamp deciding they were Jet Leestat.” He chuckles softly but stops when Jack doesn't move a muscle. “Ah, come on. Jet Li... Lestat? Get it? Anyway, I don't need any healing. ”

Jack ignores him, his hands are already raised and he grabs Dean's arm. His eyes glow and Dean feels the sharp pain subside to a dull ache until it vanishes completely. “You didn't need to; you're already drained from healing Sam during the hunt. It was nothing, Jack.” He touches his side which is as good as it will get on a hunter approaching forty. “But thanks.”

Dean looks expectantly at Sam and Cas. They just stand there, and Sam even has the audacity to raise an eyebrow in question.

“Jet Leestat! Cause he kicked me, true karate-style –“ Dean swings around with his arms in a circular motion – “and Lestat, the bloodsucker in those books.” He hisses for emphasis. “You get it now?”

Nothing but crickets. Dean shakes his head in disgust and grabs another handful of Doritos. “You uncultured lot. Won't recognize fine literature.”

Finally, Sam speaks up. “I don't think Interview with the Vampire is considered fine literature.”

“I can't listen to this anymore. Shower time. Jack, you found a place?”

Jack's eye's narrow as he lists the nearest restaurants. “There's a Susie's Place just a few minutes away, but it seems to be closed. The nearest after that is Thai Jungle – “

“That's the winner. They open?”

“Yes.”

Dean is already unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Pad Thai for me, drown it in lime juice. And I want a Mount Everest of peanuts.” He grabs his bag and heads for the bathroom.

He can hear Sam order vegetable satay as he shuts the door. The shower is not the worst he's seen. No shower curtain, thank the gods. As long as the pressure is more than a drizzle, he can live with it. Dean removes his shirt and pants, cursing a few times as he feels caked blood crack along with other bloodsucker things – he has no desire whatsoever to further put his mind on what it can be – and tosses it on the floor.

The water flows fairly well and as Dean steps under the water, the spray is hot. Almost scalding, so he turns it down just a fraction. He welcomes the heat that relaxes his muscles and the comforting feeling that follows, one of heaviness cloaking around him and with a promise of sleep.

He grabs the lavender soap and ignores the foul scent as he rinses off the dust, blood, and grime that has found its way under all the layers of clothes.

A faint draft sneaks his way and Dean turns to find Cas there.

Cas removes his clothes and steps inside.

It's cramped but Dean couldn't care less. “Soap?” He doesn't wait for an answer, instead, he grabs the soap and works it all over Cas' body. The warmth of Cas, the way his muscles play under skin that Dean's made sure to know fully during countless hours of midnight exploration, all of it speaks of home.

“Now it's my turn.” Cas leaves the soap, grabs some shampoo instead. Soon they're slotted against each other, Cas fingers digging into Dean scalp.

His ministrations send shivers down Dean's spine and what he thought was relaxation earlier now hits him with full force. He sways and leans into Cas. “That's the spot, right there.”

Cas laughs, grabs some more soap and washes himself.

“What's the hurry, Cas?”

Cas is already rinsing himself off. “I assume that Sam desires a shower too.”

Dean grabs Cas' still soapy ass and squeezes. “He can wait.”

“We don't know how much hot water is left.” Cas leaves wet kisses on the side of his neck.

“Fine, I guess you're right.” Dean grabs a towel and dries himself off hurriedly before digging into his bag. He pulls out a pair of pants, a huge smile on his face. “Eileen, bless her soul. She actually went ahead and bought a pair.”

Cas looks questioningly at him, so Dean explains. “We were just talking shit one night and I mentioned why no one had ever thought to pack for post-hunt? Everyone – and hey, I'm everyone too – are so wrapped up in the before, that we don't stop to think about the after. When the last vamp is dead, and you grab your cold beer and slip into your best sweatpants, you know everything is good.”

He pulls up another pair of black sweatpants. “Sweet Cas, we're pants twins.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Oh, joy.”

Five minutes later, Sam is in the shower. Dean can hear Sam complain about something in there, but the spray of the water and the wooden door mutes his objections. “We did save you some hot water! Not my fault it cools on the way down your freakishly tall body.”

Jack occupies one chair, watching something on the TV. “Just ten minutes tops and food should be here.”

Dean's stomach growls. “Where's the bag?”

“The nacho bag? The Doritos... you ate them all,” Jack answers before paying attention to his show again.

Walking over to the mini-fridge, Dean opens it, only to stare at empty space. “Ah, really? I know this was a fairly cheap motel but not that cheap. Not even a tiny bag of nuts, a stale cracker. A bag of forgotten Skittles?”

Cas sits down on the bed. “Why would someone store Skittles in the fridge?”

Dean shuts the door with his foot. “A smart guy. One that knows cold Skittles taste like heaven.”

Just as Sam walks back into the main room, Dean answers the knock on the door. Tipping the driver handsomely, he unpacks the food on the table. “Sweet, two wedges of lime! You want some, Cas?”

Cas shakes his head, smiling. “Wouldn't want to steal your food. I'm alright, Dean, thank you.”

Dean hands Sam his vegetables before digging in. His eyes almost roll back as the taste of the slightly spicy noodles, cilantro, and chicken hit his mouth. “Man, this is so good.” He squeezes some more lime on the noodles and shovels in another mouthful. The taste of food has rekindled his appetite and his stomach growls in appreciation.

“Dude, you spilled sauce all over the table.”

“I didn't force you to order veggies, Sammy. I'm just trying to save you, encourage you to eat some delicious Pad Thai.” Dean squirts the small package of soy all over his food. ”Mm.”

Sam stabs a piece of carrot and dips it in the peanut sauce. “I'm fine.”

The TV provides muted a background as they eat mostly in silence. Dean realizes as the worst of his appetite is sated that he could pass out right on the chair. “You sure you don't want some, Jack? They gave me a mountain of food.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I'm good. I think I'll go to my room and sleep.”

“Nuh-uh, your and Sam's room. You sharing, kid.”

“He snores.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “I don't snore.”

Dean interjects. “Oh, trust me, Sammy, you snore.” He turns to Cas. “I can't count the times, I had to kick him while we were hunkering down in some C-grade motel, desperate for some shut-eye and he started belting out a hellish symphony worthy of discarded foghorns. Try tissues.”

Jack looks from Dean to Sam, a questioning look on his face. “Tissues?”

“Yeah, tissues. Stuff your ears and pray you'll pass out fast enough.”

Jack raises his hand in greeting. “Right... Good night, guys. Cya tomorrow.”

Sam ignores them as he dips broccoli in sauce.

Dean drums his fingers on the table and feels Sam push on his shoulder. “What?”

“Can you stop that? I'm trying to eat.”

Dean doesn't even try to stifle the yawn creeping up on him. “Eat fucking faster. “I'm beat and need to sleep. And you have a bigger mouth than I do... shouldn't you be done by now?”

“I don't inhale my food, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “Pff, I don't inhale my food. Right, Cas?”

Cas looks Sam straight in the eye. “He sucks it down faster than a Roomba.”

Sam starts coughing and quickly grabs a bottle of water. “Right. Time for me to leave, guys.” He heads for the bathroom and Dean can hear how he furiously brushes his teeth in there. As Sam leaves, he shuts the door to his room with a bang.

“Great, just you and me now Cas.”

“I hear you!” Sam shouts. “Don't forget me and Jack are in here.”

Dean rolls his eyes and mutters to himself. “Oh, trust me, Sammy, we won't forget.”

They undress silently by the muted light of the bedside lamp. Dean just drops his clothes over a chair but Cas insists on folding his clothes.

Dean sighs as he gets under the covers. “I don't know if I'm getting old, but sleep, Cas. Sleep. It's all a hunter needs to kick ass. Besides coffee... and a cold beer now and then. Angel blade is good to have, and a trusty gun. Snacks too, and badass skills. A good right-hand punch can never be underestimated.”

Cas slides in next to Dean. “Seems a hunter needs a lot of things to kick ass.”

“Nah, I just need an angel by my side, and I'm good.” Dean adjusts the covers, making sure his feet are nicely tucked in.

Cas clears his throat. “You don't need all of that though, Dean. You're perfectly fine as you are. It was not your skills or your weapons that made you the skilled hunter I know you are, but you. What's inside of you. Your heart and soul, Dean. Your determination, your will to never give up, and your determination to fight for what's right.”

Dean leans in close to Cas, enjoys the heat of him, and how close they are. His skin is like a furnace, or maybe it's that Dean always burns brighter in Cas' proximity. Cas does that to people. Brings out a light they didn't know they had, just by shining his own brilliant soul. “Cas, we're already together, no need to butter me up.”

“I'm not.” It's two simple words, but Dean feels the heaviness of them, a ring of truth that settles around them as he utters them into existence.

Dean turns the light off. “Cas...” Dean chews on his lip before speaking. “I want you by my side, you know that right. It's not like...before.”

Cas grabs his hand under the covers, a comforting thumb circling before he squeezes once. “I know that, Dean. You're not going anywhere, and neither am I.”

Dean finds comfort in the gesture and squeezes back, before nestling in closer to Cas. He exhales heavily. This right here is all he ever wanted. He holds Cas' hand in his until he feels tiny pinpricks accost his shoulder. His hand is suddenly leaden. “Alright, Cas, love ya, but I'm letting go now before my hand spontaneously falls off.”

He senses Cas' chest rumble in silent laughter as Cas eases off his grip. “That would be a shame. I put you back together once, wouldn't wanna do it again.”

Dean turns on his side and smiles as he feels Cas' heavy arm drape over his body, pulling him in close. Cas kisses him softly on the neck. “Good night, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean allows the final semblance of alertness to leave him and welcomes the heaviness of sleep. Tomorrow will bring with it a new day, new opportunities, new uncertainties. But one thing Dean will never doubt is his feelings for Cas, and Cas' love for him in turn. “Night, Cas.” Soon he sleeps, Cas by his side always.

#SpnStayAtHome #motel room #Week 5 #Castielscarma #my writing #Destiel #destiel ficlet #fluff #if you like this please reblog it

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.6

Summary: Fleeing their old lives in New York, Bucky and Becca find new possibilities in their new hometown. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warning: None, just lots of plot in this one.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This chapter is pretty dense but it was needed to keep the plot moving forward. I personally love the domesticity of it, and I hope you do too. 

Chapter Six

Blending in amongst a sea of tired passengers proves easier than Bucky expected. Becca is fast asleep, a warm and comforting weight in his arms. He’s grateful they’re the only ones in their train compartment so he has room to throw his bags on one seat and stretch out on the others. It’s a long ride, just over five hours, and he manages to catch a few cat naps here and there. Becca wakes up as the train comes to a stop, looking around confused and a little startled.

“Hey sweet girl, take a minute.” he says quietly, rubbing a hand along her back soothingly. 

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.

“We’re on a train, it just stopped in Boston. This is where we’re getting off. I promise you I’ll explain everything once we’re on the next train but I need you to do two things for me, okay?” he waits until she nods before continuing, “Okay, good. I need you to stay real close to me and don’t use our names. Can you do that?” 

Becca scrunches her nose in a confused expression Bucky knows she gets from him. “Okay?” 

“We’ll be on the next train soon, promise. Just be a big girl and hang on ‘til we get there.” The attendant comes through to let them know they can exit the train and Bucky stands up to once again juggle a sleepy four year old and two duffel bags. Becca is thankfully more cooperative now that she’s awake, holding onto him and making the whole ordeal much easier. They have just enough time to use the bathrooms and buy some snacks and a picture book on Boston to keep Becca occupied on the next leg of their trip. 

On their next train, from Boston to Portland, Bucky finds they once again have a whole compartment to themselves. He wonders how Natasha manages to pull off this kind of stuff but figures it’s better not to think too hard on it. Becca is happily munching through a pack of teddy grahams while Bucky gets them settled in. Not a great breakfast, but it’ll tide them over until they get to Maine. He cracks open his can of cold brew coffee and tears into his own pack of teddy grahams. Kid snack or not, they’re freaking delicious. 

“Bu... uh…” Becca starts to say his name but catches herself. 

“Good girl, bug.” praises the little girl. “What’s up?”

Becca looks around unsure before quietly asking, “Why can’t we use our names?” 

It’s a simple question, one he knew was going to come up sooner rather than later, and he’d spent a good portion of the first train ride figuring out how he’d explain this to her. “Well, those aren’t our names anymore.” he starts simply. 

“What? Why?”

“Because we’re moving far away where those bad guys from yesterday can’t find us. I need to keep us safe and this is the way it needs to happen. New names, new apartment, new school, new everything. It’s going to be really nice and I promise you’ll love where we’re going.” He hopes.

Tears well for a moment, “What about Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint and Steve?” 

“They’re staying in New York but we’ll still talk to Auntie Nat sometimes, okay?”

“What about Steve? You liked him. I liked him. Why can’t he come?” 

Bucky sighs, he won’t throw Steve under the bus for this. “Steve has a really important job in New York so he needs to stay there.” 

“I’m gonna miss home.” Becca grumbles sadly. Bucky pulls her onto his lap to hold her close.

“I know, I am too. But we’re gonna have a great new home. Want to know your new name?” he tries for a distraction. 

“Sure!” Becca takes the bait. 

“Your name is Elena Stan. My name is Sebastian Stan.” 

“Seb-bast-tan?” Becca tries his name out slowly.

“Close enough. But you know how you asked if you could call me daddy when you were little?” 

Becca nods. That had been a rough phase for both of them. She had wanted to call him daddy so badly but it had made him uncomfortable at the time so he insisted she call him by his name. 

“Well, now you can. In our new lives Sebastian is Elena’s daddy.”  Part of him still dislikes that the effort he put into making sure Becca knows her own identity has flown out the window overnight. When she gets older he hopes she’ll understand why he’s doing this. “It’s gonna be hard to remember at first, but we’ll get used to it.” 

“Okay.” Becca shrugs and goes back to her snack, her curiosity sated for the time being. 

Bucky settles in, starting to feel the weight of the previous day pressing down on him. He prays the coffee kicks in soon so he’s not a zombie by the time they get where they’re going. Becca seems happy enough keeping herself occupied with her new book and he makes plans to buy a few toys once they get to the next stop. Just a few things that will keep her busy at their new place so he can catch a quick nap. He doesn’t know what their financial situation is but he can’t imagine Natasha wouldn’t have moved over his money for him. There had been two hundred in cash in the wallet so that will at least tide them over until he can check the card balances. He’s lucky Becca is an easy kid and he just hopes that she’ll take this all in stride like she does most things. And if not, well she’s a four year old, distractions and redirections still work at this age thankfully. 

The second train ride is half the time of the first but Bucky is starting to feel worn out and grimy. The last leg of their trip is a twenty minute bus ride from Portland to Cape Elizabeth and once again they have just enough time to use the bathroom and hit up a train station gift shop. He buys a plastic tea set, a stuffed ladybug, and breakfast sandwiches before they have to race over to catch their bus. Becca is more awake now and she’s keeping up on her own, hugging the ladybug for dear life while she settles into their bus seats. 

Maine is different than Bucky expected, colder sure, but the water even looks different than back in New York even though both places connect to the Atlantic Ocean. There’s something about the clear, turbulent water that seems more powerful and deeply elemental than the easy going tides back in Brooklyn. Bucky’s captivated watching the ocean out the bus window while the old Greyhound travels down the coastal highway. After two long train rides, the bus ride feels like it’s over in a blink of an eye. The bus stop they’re let out at is small, barely more than a little hut alongside the road outside of town. 

Becca is full of wide eyed curiosity as they make their way into town. Bucky has the address of the apartment, but with no clue of the little town’s set up it’s not very useful. He misses his phone and being able to GPS his way around. It’s a few minutes later that he remembers the phone in the package Natasha gave him. He’d forgotten about it in his sleep deprived state, having stashed it in his bag since he wasn’t able to use it until after the first leg of the trip. Booting up the sleek red iPhone, Bucky’s relieved to see it has a full charge and it finds a GPS signal quickly. The apartment is only a fifteen minute walk away at that point and Bucky happily tells Becca they’ll be home soon. She nods but she’s clearly distracted by her new surroundings. 

The little seaside town is quaint and reminds Bucky of something out of a movie. Small brick and glass fronted shops line the town’s main street, brightly colored banners and awnings announcing the businesses inside. There are a lot of artisan shops and Bucky finds himself looking forward to exploring the town more when they have time. The first priority though is getting settled in. Becca is tired and starting to whine a little by the time they turn onto their street. It’s as picturesque as the rest of town, tree lined sidewalks and charming old brick homes. Finding their house number, Bucky pauses outside, not entirely sure how to proceed. Natasha hadn’t given him a key, just an address. He’s still standing there, thinking out his next moves when an older woman pops her head out the front door. 

“Are you Sebastian?” the woman calls out with a smile. 

“Yes, I am.” Bucky replies easily, the new name less foreign than he had expected it to feel. 

“I’m Anne, from the emails. You two made good time getting up here. Come on in and I’ll get you set up.” The woman stands back from the doorway letting them through and Bucky is thankful Natasha set things up so thoroughly for them. 

Anne, as it turns out, grew up in the large Victorian style home before she and her sisters renovated it back in the 70s and turned it into apartments. She still lives in the bottom floor apartment but rents out the second and third floors now that her sisters both passed on. She’s chatty and grandmotherly, doting on Becca by plying the little girl with blueberry cake. Becca doesn’t bat an eye at being called Elena and Bucky couldn’t be more proud of his girl. 

“You both must be exhausted from the trip.” Anne says after Bucky has finished signing all the paperwork for the apartment. “If you need anything, I’m here. Like I said in the email, it’s fully furnished but if you would rather bring in your own things just let me know and I’ll move the existing pieces into storage. It’ll at least get you started though.” 

Bucky stifles his yawn but nods, “Yeah, I think we’re both due for a nap. I’m sure what’s there is fine, we’re not super picky.” 

Anne gives him a smile and shows him outside to the stairs that lead up to his apartment. Bucky thanks her again and makes his way up the narrow wooden stairs. After the long trip and lack of sleep the stairs feel like Everest and a grumbling Becca clearly agrees. The door is cheerfully decorated with a sunflower wreath and the apartment inside is instantly welcoming. The living room has a little tile entryway where they shuck off their shoes before padding across the fluffy beige carpeting. The dining room is off to one side after the hallway, connecting to the kitchen which is brightly decorated in white and yellow. The hallway leads to two bedrooms, and a bathroom decorated with beautiful tiles reminiscent of mermaid scales. Becca falls in love immediately and begs Bucky for a bath. He promises her one that night once they can buy soap and things at the store which seems to appease her for the moment. The bedrooms are both decorated in the same neutral colors as the rest of the house and Bucky thinks it’ll be easy to add a few homey touches to the place to make it feel more like theirs. 

Becca throws herself on the twin size bed in the first bedroom announcing it’s the best big girl bed ever. Though she slept well and hasn’t needed a nap in ages, she agrees to lay down for a little while to rest. There’s a small play table and dresser off to the side and Bucky sets her new toys down on the table. He makes Becca promise to come get him right next door if she needs him and gives her a coloring book and box of crayons if she’d rather draw quietly too. Seeing her favorite coloring book from home cheers her up a bit but she still burrows happily under the fluffy comforter. Bucky gives her a quick kiss and heads over to his room at the end of the hall. It’s larger than his bedroom back in Brooklyn and the bed is larger too. He’d been fine with his old full sized mattress but seeing the king sized behemoth has him throwing himself on the bed much like Becca had done in hers. Bucky lets out a groan, this is a real adult bed. The grey duvet is impossibly soft and fluffy and the mattress itself lets him sink into it, unlike the spring mattress he was used to. Bucky is in love with the bed and allows himself a few happy moments to roll around in it. 

Eventually, needing to be responsible, Bucky gets up to change out of his clothes and shed the grime and stress from the past day away. He grabs the phone and takes a picture of the bed with it’s now rumpled comforter and shoots an Instagram message to Natalie with the caption “Now THIS is a bed”. 

Bucky sets the phone down on the nightstand and takes a minute to enjoy the view from the bedroom window. The view is so different from New York and he knows it’ll take some getting used to. The phone chirps an unfamiliar noise and Bucky sees that Natasha responded already. “Jealous! Enjoy your nap. TTYL.” 

Bucky sends back a heart emoji and then sets the phone on the nightstand so he can crawl under the covers into his new bed. It’s been a long 24 hours but at least the hardest part is behind him. 

What was meant to be a short nap turns into three hours of Bucky being dead to the world. He wakes up a little after noon to find Becca coloring happily at her play table. She also figured out how to use the remote for the little TV on top of her dresser and turned on the Disney channel quietly in the background. Bucky shakes his head, the little girl is too smart for her own good. “Hey bug.” he calls from the doorway. 

“Hi!” Becca’s whole face lights up when she sees him, “Wanna see what I colored?” She holds up her book and Bucky joins her at the tiny table. She couldn’t have been up for very long, she’s only gotten halfway through one Cinderella picture so far, which she proudly shows him she only colored outside the lines once. 

Bucky lets her get back to her artwork and wanders down the hall to explore the apartment more. It’s crazy to him that for a third of the rent of his apartment in Brooklyn he has more than twice as much space here. There’s even a backyard down below with a patio area and a fire pit. The apartment has tall, wide windows in every room which let in ample natural light through gauzy curtains. Bucky looks out the kitchen window down at the backyard and wonders what Becca will think of making s’mores. He finds a shopping list note pad and pen on the fridge and starts making a list of things they’ll need to pick up at the store. The kitchen is fully stocked with plates, cups, pots and pans, and miscellaneous cooking and baking supplies. It makes Bucky look forward to whipping up meals, no longer having to rely on the cramped little kitchen with a temperamental stove they had in their old place. The appliances are all shiny steel and new looking, the flat top stove making Bucky grin from ear to ear. 

Sitting in the corner of one counter top is a french press with a bag of local coffee and a wrapped loaf of blueberry cake. There’s a little welcome card next to the treats and Bucky plans to thank Anne again when he asks for directions to the grocery store. He wanders down the hall, adding toiletries to the shopping list as well as laundry detergent and dryer sheets when he discovers the hallway closet houses a stacked washer / dryer unit. There isn’t a whole lot more that they’ll need for the time being and Bucky figures if he budgets correctly he should be able to keep them afloat for a little while until he can get a steady paycheck again. That is if Natasha moved all of his money over for him. 

Bucky frowns, suddenly worrying that he’s making plans without even checking their financial state. He retrieves his phone and flicks through the screens until he finds a banking app that matches the debit card in his wallet. The app loads and brings him to a home screen that displays four different accounts. Bucky’s head is swimming as he looks at the accounts and numbers. Checking, Savings, College Fund, Car Fund. The college fund has enough to set Becca up at a decent state school or even private school if she can get scholarships. The car fund has enough for a low end new car or nicer used model. Savings has four times what he’d had in savings back home and the checking account contains about what he’d had in savings. Where in the hell did Natasha get all that money?! 

Hopping into Instagram, Bucky fires off a message to Natasha loaded with shocked emojis and exclamation points. “I can’t accept all this.” Is the second message. 

The three little ellipses pop up almost immediately. “You can, and will. Happy housewarming.” 

Bucky frowns and types out, “Where did it come from?” 

“Let’s just say some less than savory sources who won’t even miss it.” Natasha sends back.

The frown on Bucky’s face deepens. He wonders how deep Natasha has gotten herself into with this mystery life she’s apparently been leading. He hopes she knows what she’s doing. “I guess I just have to say thanks and trust you.” he finally replies.

Natasha sends back a few grinning emojis and a kiss. 

It’s not ideal but Bucky can’t exactly return the money at this point. And living in a more rural area he’ll need a car sooner rather than later. He hasn’t driven in years but it should be just like riding a bike, not something you ever really forget. They still have a full day ahead of them and grocery shopping without a car to haul it all back is going to suck, so Bucky decides that lunch and car shopping can be their first stops. 

“Hey Bec… uh….bug.” Bucky quickly corrects himself. 

Becca giggles at his slip up. “Yes daddy?” she asks in her sweetest tone, emphasizing that she didn’t slip. 

“How about we go find some place for lunch and then run errands?” 

“Lunch out?!”

“Yep, lunch out at a restaurant. Come on, let’s go ask Miss Anne where the good food is.” 

Becca flies out of her room to put on her shoes, getting both on before Bucky’s even gotten his first boot tied. He scolds her lightly as she bounds down the stairs, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a little girl. 

It’s loud enough that Anne comes to the window of her living room to greet them. “All rested up?”

“Much better, yes. Thank you for the cake and coffee, that was really nice.” Bucky says as he tries to keep Becca close despite her best efforts to keep going. “Would you by chance be able to give me some pointers for places to go around here? We need to run errands.” 

“Of course, it depends on what you need though.” 

“Well, lunch to start. And a car. Then groceries and some basic necessities.” 

Anne thinks a moment, “Go down two blocks and make a left, head for the docks. There’s a diner called Jerry’s. Everyone loves it there. For a car your best bet is to catch a taxi over to All Star Service. It’s on the other end of town. Mark takes good care of the cars and he’ll get you set up nicely. If you get a car, or can catch another taxi, head over to the strip mall near there. It’s called Oakwood Plaza and they have a grocery store and a few other little shops where you can find everything you’d need. Otherwise you’ll have to head out of town to the Target over in South Portland.”

Buck is frantically writing all of her advice down on the back of his shopping list, not having expected such a wealth of information but immensely grateful for it. “Thank you, really. It’s going to take a bit for us to get used to where everything’s at.” 

“Not a problem, dear. You’ll get acclimated in no time, I’m sure.” 

Bucky thanks her again and then finally lets Becca lead him down the sidewalk. He lets her go ahead, a happy bounce in her step, giving her directions when they need to make a turn. The diner comes into view a short distance later and Bucky hopes they end up liking the place since it’s so close by. 

A waitress seats them right away in a faded red and white booth. Becca is looking around at the retro decor like she can’t see it all fast enough. Bucky makes small talk with the waitress once she discovers they’re new to town, following her recommendation on some local fare. She doesn’t steer them wrong and both Bucky and Becca are thrilled with their lunches. 

“I like it here a LOT.” Becca announces, setting her spoon down into her empty bowl of baked beans. The little dish had been full of beans and cut up hot dogs which had made Becca’s day for some reason. Bucky wasn’t going to question it, it was a hit. His own chowder and Italian sandwich were both delicious and he already plans to come back and try the lobster roll another day. Maybe they can make weekly trips together now that they won’t be scraping by quite as hard as they were. 

Bucky mentions needing a car to the waitress and she recommends the same place Anne had, so he pays for a taxi ride across town to see if he can find something. He doesn’t really care too much what he gets as long as it’s reliable and within his budget. Becca doesn’t seem to understand why on earth he needs a car despite him explaining a few times it’s different here than living in a big city. The taxi driver has a good chuckle and offers to wait if they want, just in case they don’t find anything. Bucky thanks the man and tells him he’ll be back in a few minutes to let him know one way or another. 

The lot isn’t huge and Bucky moves through the few dozen cars pretty quickly. A dark green Jeep catches his eye and he can’t help but be drawn to it. It was his dream car when he was a teenager. It’s not a difficult decision. The Jeep is only five years old, the mileage is pretty low, and best of all the price leaves a few thousand in that savings account once it’s all said and done. Bucky doesn’t need to think it over so he lets the taxi driver know they’ll be fine and heads off to find the shop owner. He finds the man, Mark, under the hood of an old beat up pick up truck covered in oil but with a wide smile on his face. A quick test drive and a few forms later, Bucky is the proud owner of his first car. It’s a far cry from driving around his parent’s beat up old Lincoln Continental when he was a teenager. Becca is thrilled at the idea and is barely able to sit still as Bucky secures her in the back seat. He realizes his next stop has to be for a car seat, the last thing he needs is to have his new ID tested out by the Cape Elizabeth police.

The strip mall is barely a mile down from the auto shop and thankfully has a thrift shop at the end opposite the grocery store. It’s a huge shop run by the local church and has everything from clothes, to home goods, and toys. Bucky picks up a few new outfits for each of them and finds a gently used booster seat as well. Impulsively he throws in a few toys and books for Becca and some candles and house decorations. With that taken care of, he runs an overly excited Becca through the grocery store, not even bothering to protest when she makes a few special requests. Bucky can’t get over how inexpensive the prices are compared to the city, especially the seafood. He takes note of prices, wanting to be able to budget out their shopping the next time. It’s nice to be able to just shop for what they want for a change, but old habits die hard and he can’t just do that every time. 

It’s late afternoon when they get back, arms loaded with bags. Becca insists on carrying some bags upstairs herself and together they get it all in three trips. Bucky lets Becca run off to her room to set up her new toys while he puts away the groceries and sets up the few house decorations he bought. There’s something extremely soothing about getting everything set up to look like a real home. Their home. It’s far nicer than the little apartment they shared in the city and for a bleak moment Bucky wonders if staying in the city after he adopted Becca had been the right call. He pushes the thought out of his head as quickly as it arises, shoving the laundry in the dryer with a little more force than necessary. He had done his best for the both of them, and he would have never managed to get his nursing career started without having Natasha and Clint around to help with childcare. 

By dinner time both he and Becca are worn out but they’re fully moved in and the apartment is even starting to feel more homey. Despite his better judgment, Bucky orders them a pizza for dinner. Becca is shocked and Bucky assures her this won’t be an everyday occurrence. They curl up together on the plush sofa after dinner, finding an old movie to watch together until Becca is sleeping peacefully nestled against Bucky’s side. He picks up the little girl, toting her off into her own bed. The room is perfect for her, but Bucky thinks he might want to get her a new bedding set for her birthday in a few months. One that suits her better like the ladybug print one she had in Brooklyn. 

Falling into his own, frankly amazing, bed, Bucky wonders how long this adjustment period is going to last. Surely they’ll hit some stumbling blocks as they go, but he hopes they both adapt to their new lives quickly. He wants to just jump forward to the point where their new lives here in Cape Elizabeth feel natural to them as their lives before. He thinks he’ll always miss his name just a little bit, but he can learn to adjust if it means a better, safer, life for Becca. There are certainly a lot of perks to living in a small town even if he’s going to miss his friends desperately. It’s only Steve that he can’t bring himself to think about. The pain is too fresh, too raw. Bucky thinks he could have loved Steve, if he hadn’t already been completely in love with the man already. He’s certain the gripping heartache he feels when he thinks of Steve is being felt by the other man as well. Sleep eludes Bucky until close to midnight, his mind busy between making plans to set up their new lives and trying not to dwell on the too painful thoughts of what they’ve left behind. Despite his best efforts it’s Steve that’s on his mind when he finally drifts off to a restless sleep.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #non winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic #parent!bucky #nurse!bucky #kid!becca barnes

[modestfuckup]

Challenge Week- Get Beached 2020

Date Night

Teen Wolf | Sterek | 2806

Fat!Stiles, Super Chub!Derek, Date night at the local buffet, 

Stiles pulls their truck up to Howdy Hal’s Buffet. Hal’s is a local place that’s been in business for the past thirty years. They have a great selection of food, and on Wednesdays, they have an all-you-can-eat night for the low price of $10 each. Stiles and Derek haven’t been able to eat anywhere for $10 each in a very, very long time. 

The truck is thrown into park, and Stiles shuts off the ignition and pulls out the key. Derek sits in the passenger seat, too large himself to even consider driving. They both throw their doors open, and Stiles falls out of the cab with little grace. When he does he can feel the truck’s frame being relieved from his weight, but immediately dipping with Derek’s on the other side. 

From his side, Derek wiggles. He manages to get his right leg out from the confined space under the dashboard and his belly to start reaching for the ground. Stiles makes his way to the otherside of the truck. Derek gets his foot on the running board, and uses that to leverage his other leg out. His massive belly jiggles and flops as he twists in his seat, using the frame of the door as a handle. Another leg appears, and he reaches down to the asphalt below. Stiles observes, and offers a bit of encouragement when he can. 

Both of Derek’s feet hit the ground and the truck almost bounces back up when all of Derek’s bulk is out of the cab. Derek takes a couple of small steps, adjusting his shirt to cover his massive belly as best he can, and slams the truck’s door behind him. 

Read on AO3

They’re parked as close to the door as possible. Derek takes small, slow steps, working each step like it’s a personal everest of his. Stiles scoops up his hand, and Derek doesn’t let go. 

It was 10 years ago that Derek confessed his love for Stiles. It was nearly 9 years ago when Derek admitted that he wanted to start gaining weight. It was 8 and a half years ago when Stiles decided he also wanted to gain weight. 

Derek’s bulk was in his belly. It was wide and round. It extends far out in front of him and sits heavily on top of his pants. His arms are massive too, and so are his legs, but his belly is where all the weight goes. Lately, Stiles has noticed his underbelly getting bigger too, and he can’t wait for the day Derek’s fupa hangs low by his knees like his stomach already does. Three months ago, Derek weighed 589 pounds. Stiles is so pleased.

Stiles’ weight is more evenly distributed, but settles in his lower half. He’s smaller than Derek, by quite a bit at this point, but he’s grown happy with his body and doesn’t really mind their side difference. He’s squishy all over, none of his fat really hardening like Derek’s does. Even when he’s stuffed, his belly is still soft and pliable in his fingers. His upper arms are thick and stretch out any shirt or hoodie he tries to wear. They look like hams. His face is soft too. While Derek’s double and triple chins hide behind a beard, Stiles keeps his face clean shaven proving that there are multiple chins down there. His thighs rub together, and they’re so thick that he walks with a wide stride that leaves him waddling from one leg to another. Three months ago, Stiles weighed 342 pounds. Derek couldn’t keep his hands to himself as the digital read out on their scale announced the number.

Derek’s steps are laborious. They don’t walk a lot given heir total combined bulk of being fat as fuck, but their montly trip to Hal’s was always a moment they really enjoyed. They don’t get out of the house much, and even as Derek keeps growing, it gets harder and harder. Stiles idly wonders how much Derek has gained since the last time he was weighed, or even last month’s date night. 

The doors to Hal’s are motion sensing and slide open when they detect Stiles and Derek’s imminent entrance. However, it takes them a few more moments than it would take anyone else and the doors close again, then open again. The doors open and close three times before Stiles and Derek get inside. 

“Ah! My favorite customers!” Hal says from his place behind the cash register. “We were wondering if you two were coming this month.” 

“Oh course we’d come,” Derek pants, moving his thick arm to dig out his wallet from his pocket. It’s not easy, and requires some manuvering around fat, but he gets it. “Two please.” 

Hal immediately escorts them to a nearby table, one very close to the buffet lineup. The chairs at Hal’s have been reinforced. Mostly because on night a few years back Derek broke the chair he was sitting on. The table they’re given is big enough to seat about six people. Derek plots onto two chairs on one side, while Stiles manages to feel comfortable enough on one chair tonight on the other. 

Hal takes Derek’s card and rings them up for the night, and brings the check over for Derek to sign. Normally, Hal doesn’t do table service, because it’s a buffet, but he’s always made special accommodations for Stiles and Derek. 

A cute little server girl comes out from the kitchen. She’s wearing an apron and under normal conditions her job is to clean up after guests leave, tonight though, her job also includes bring food for Stiles and Derek. 

“Hi Anne,” Stiles says, peering over to the rows and rows of food. 

“Hi Stiles. Hi Derek,” Anne is familiar with the couple. Derek puts in his order, and reminds her to pack the plate high because. Stiles decides he wants to walk around and see what’s up there himself. 

Derek watches as Stiles waddles to the pile of places and immediately starts spooning food onto the plate, soon grabbing another one. Anne comes back with two plates for Derek, filled with the food he asked for and a few moments later, Stiles returns with plates of his own. Anne brings them drinks and silverware before leaving them to clean a table that recently freed up near them. 

They eat. Stiles gets up once he finishes the food on his plates to get more. Derek calls on Anne to bring him more. Stiles enjoys a steak or two while Derek can’t get enough of the spaghetti. Mashed potatoes with gravy, mac and cheese, pizza, corndogs, chicken fried steak, hamburgers, and so much more move through their plates. Stiles brings Derek a plate every now and then, encouraging him to try to fish or the chicken or this or that. Derek inhales it all. 

It takes a while, but Derek starts getting full and he’s pleased when he lets out a burp that startles a couple nearby. Stiles can’t imagine what they must look like to them. A couple of huge dudes who can’t even stop eating for a moment to talk to one another outside of small encouragements and compliments about having barbecue sauce on their chin. Derek takes up two chairs for fuck’s sake. They must look ridiculous. But Stiles doesn’t care. He continues to munch on his crab legs. 

Stiles starts getting full and concedes that it is time for dessert. He makes his way to the dessert station and brings back cakes and cookies and ice cream and so much more. He also brings back another plate for Derek even though he sees Anne working up another couple of plates for him already. 

Derek keeps eating and Stiles begins to slow down, feeling the pressure of his fully belly against the edge of the table, but he also loves dessert the best. While Stiles could easily eat an entire meal made of only sweets, Derek loved the savory. There is a plate piled with fries that Derek grabs every now and then. Stiles sneaks a couple from the pile to dip in his ice cream. 

“Do you think they’ll make me a milkshake if I ask?” Stiles ponders sucking on the straw of his soda. 

“Hmm probably,” Derek responds, mouth full of food. The front of his shirt is littered with small spots of food having dropped while he was eating. Stiles wonders if it is finally time to invest in some bibs for him. 

When Anne comes back, Stiles asks and she leaves to the kitchen to see what she can do. Derek starts to lean back in his chair, which signals to Stiles that he’s reaching the end of the meal himself. 

“Do you want dessert? I’m going to go get more,” Stiles starts the process of standing up, it’s always a little more work when you’re full. Derek nods while bringing another forkful of food. 

Stiles packs a couple plates full of desserts, and brings another plate of fries for him and Derek to share. When he gets back Anne is bringing out a sizable milkshake. Stiles plots back into his seat, putting the plates of dessert on the table as Anne takes some plates away. Stiles needs to remember to leave her a very large tip. Stiles sips the milkshake, watching Derek concentrate as he keeps bringing his fork from the plate to his mouth. 

At this point, Stiles knows, it’s not about eating for Derek, it’s about being stuffed. He won’t stop eating until he feels he cannot eat another bite. Stiles knows his limit, and he’ll stop when he is pleasantly full, but Derek has gained nearly 500 pounds in 9 years for a reason. 

Around them, people leave. Normal people don’t spend more than an hour here. Derek and Stiles can, and have, spend the whole evening here. 

Once Derek really starts to slow down, the conversation between them flows. They live together and while Derek works from home, Stiles doesn’t. They talk about work, and other things. They were hoping to go see a movie soon, but the seats were an issue for them now. (Buying 4 seats for two people starts to get a bit ridiculous.) 

Stiles continues to sip at his milkshake, it’s very good. Every now and then he dips a fry into it and eats it up. The sweet and salty mix on his tongue in a satisfying way. Derek finishes all the food they have at the table, so Stiles goes and dutifully gets him another plate. Derek keeps eating. 

Stiles announces that he’s talked to his dad. They hadn’t seen each other since John married Melissa and they ran off to Mexico together a few years back. They invite Stiles and Derek down often enough, but Stiles knows they can’t really travel much anymore. Derek announces a potential promotion for him. It’s in the very early stages, but he isn’t sure he’s super interested because it may require an in person interview. 

They’re lifestyle is a little extreme for some people’s taste. Stiles knows he’s had to defend his lifestyle to Scott many times. The excuse of wanting them to be healthy always being a main argument on Scott’s part. 

Derek starts really slowing down, instead of brining his fork up every few seconds for another bit, he takes maybe a minute to bring his hand up again. The amount on the fork getting smaller and smaller. Stiles definitely brought him too much dessert on purpose. 

“Come on babe, you can finish all that. It’s not that much,” Stiles offers his encouragement. Derek seems determined, and he takes another bite. 

Stiles keeps talking, as Derek begins to concentrate hard on the last little bit of food on the plate. 

“Just a little bit more Der,” Stiles takes the last few sips of his milkshake, and he can feel it go down his throat and join the rest of the food in his belly. He idly rubs circles into the flesh that meet the side of the table.  “You’re doing soo good.” 

Derek fills his fork with the last little bit of pudding and cake from his plate. He takes the final bite, chews for a moment, then swallows. To demonstrate how done he is, he rolls his head back and uses his legs to push himself up a little bit. Stiles can see his hand trying to make it’s way to the bottom of his belly, where his sweatpants are probably cutting into him uncomfortably. Derek stopped wearing jeans years ago, but Stiles does miss the harsh red lines that came after keeping his big belly confined for so long. 

Stiles continues talking, he knows Derek is listening. 

“‘M so full,” Derek announces,” which is good because that was kind of the point of coming to dinner. 

“Well, Hall won’t kick us out,” Stiles says. He finished his milkshake, and now that he’s let his food settle for a few minutes he considers going and getting another plate of food, or maybe dessert. They’re not going to go anywhere for awhile. Derek is too full to move. 

Derek can feel his stomach weighing him down, holding him, forcing him, down to the chairs he is sitting on. He kind of wishes he and Stiles were back home, so Stiles could rub circles into his over inflated belly and massage the softer rolls hidden by his sweats. He rests his eyes, enjoying the full sensation that comes with over eating, over stuffing himself.

Stiles gives in and goes back up for another plate. Derek hears Stiles stand, and looks after him to watch his body sway back and forth as his legs try to make big steps but are confined to taking small wide ones. Stiles still insists on wearing flannel overshirts, which disguise--albeit not very well-the rolls of fat that are on his back. The t-shirts underneath, Derek knows, cling to them tightly and put them on display for everyone to see. The flannel shirts cover it up and Derek mourns over the absence of them. His jeans are tight, because Stiles still insists on wearing jeans, even if it’s only once and a while. His ass crack peeks out the top of the jeans, just enough that when he walks a certain way Derek can see it between the tops of his pants and the bottom of his flannel.  The jeans are sinfully tight, showcasing the rolls that have developed on Stiles’ thighs. 

Derek watches, enamored by Stiles. 

As Stiles returns with his full plate, Derek sees tug his shirt down in front of him, like it’s riding up repeatedly. Derek wonders if Stiles can feel his belly showing. 

“Shirts getting a bit small?” Derek asks, lifting his head as Stiles makes his way back to the table and sits down with a big sigh. 

“Yeah, think so,” Stiles admits. He has another plate full of desserts, he starts eating, Derek feels automatically compelled to eat something but his gut is so full in front of him that he can’t move to swipe something from Stiles’ plate. 

The couple continues to talk while Derek digests enough to stand and Stiles finishes his last plate of food. Hal comes over a couple of times and makes sure they’re both doing okay, as well as Anne. Stiles slips a couple twenties on the table when Derek finally musters up enough strength to stand. 

They’re always seated at a table with chairs, after the time Derek got wedged so tightly into a booth they had to remove the table top so he could get out. Stiles stands, which allows Derek to push the table away from him, and then use it to help him stand. They walk to the exit, Hal and Anne following them to make sure they both get out and to their car okay. 

The truck is right where they left it. Stiles helps Derek climb into it, the poor truck leaning and groaning under the weight of Derek. Stiles closes the door, knowing Derek is inside holding some of himself to allow the door to close at all. He makes his way to the driver’s seat, and gets himself up there, again the truck doesn’t seem happy with the new added weight. 

Before they drive off, they sit in the truck for a moment, Stiles adjusting himself to he can make sure he’s as comfortable as he can be in the tight space. 

Stiles reaches a hand over to roam Derek’s big, hard belly. It always amazing him, how much Derek can eat. “Happy anniversary,” Stiles says. 

“Happy anniversary,” Derek responds, the two lean together, Derek pushes against the side of the truck to get him all the way to meet Stiles’ lips. To another ten years. 

#get-beached #get beached 2020 #Fat!Stiles #Superchub!Derek #Buffet

[shibyn]

are you blushing or is that sunburn

haikyuu!! | bokuto/kuroo | 23k | ao3

"Wuh?" Bokuto only looks slightly perplexed, munching down on his popsicle in thought. "If we can't do it this week, we can just do it next, right?" He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the whole universe, the only possible answer. A bead of melted popsicle runs down the wooden stick, spilling across Bokuto's fingers. He awkwardly gurgles, unmelted ice still in his mouth, and he tries his best to lick the trail and proceeds to knock himself in the forehead with the ice pop.

It's. Endearing, maybe, if not completely embarrassing to watch.

Ahh, Kuroo thinks and averts his eyes. His neck is warm under the sun.

It's the hottest day of the year.

And so was the day before, and the day before that.

(A summer romance where things get a little too hot and spicy— literally. Tokyo’s melting.)

"—temperatures are soaring, paired up with cloudless skies. Take care these next couple of days, and stay hydrated! A cold front is on the way, so sweat it out, there's relief coming soon!—" Blearily, Kuroo wipes the sweat collecting beneath his eyes, glancing away from the TV that's been playing as white noise as he waits. It's early morning, windows wide open to the city waking. Outside the air is muggy and hot and he would love nothing more than to close the windows and crank up the air conditioning, but he's gotta be mindful of the AC or the bill will skyrocket. First day of summer break and it's already abysmally hot, he laments, sinking further into the couch. The pleather of the couch is grossly sticky whenever it peels from his bare shoulders. It's gonna be one helluva long day. "Tetsurou!!" The front door swings open without warning, slamming against the wall and bouncing back, striking the intruder. Not even deterred aside from a sharp yowch, and only momentarily pausing to kick off his shoes, Bokuto comes romping in through the entryway. Every bit of his stride looks like he can just barely contain the energy he has. He almost strides right past the living room, double taking when he notices Kuroo. "Wha— Tetsu, are you not ready!" Rising from his sprawl on the couch, Kuroo says, "I am ready, you airhead, you just took your time getting here. It's, what—" a quick glance to the clock— "—ten thirty? You're late, buddy." "By just fifteen minutes!" Bokuto whines, shoulders slumping, "I forgot the tickets the first time I left my house so I had to run back to get them!!" "You—" but of course. What else was he expecting? He did make their meet time thirty minutes earlier than necessary— just in case Bokuto forgot something. And another thing. And then something else. "How far out were you when you turned around?" "Halfway through the station!" he announces, bouncing on his toes, awfully chipper for how sweaty he is, "I think that was the fastest I've ever sprinted home." He's got his puppy-dog grin, but he is breathing a little heavier, his shirt damp in dots along his chest. "You didn't have to," Kuroo says, grimacing. Maybe he should've said that they had plenty of time— even if they ended up being late, so what? He literally incorporated the wiggle room for a reason. Coulda saved him the trouble. "I coulda paid for us up front." Aghast, Bokuto digs at his pocket and nearly punches Kuroo in the nose he presents his hand so fast. Clutched in his hand are two brightly colored tickets, a holographic sheen to them with the shifting light. The smallest sliver of a tanuki's face peeks out from where it's covered by his thumb. "Never! I've been holding onto these babies for so long, it'd be horrible if I let them go to waste!!" Kuroo snorts, smacking his hand away. "For months, man. You won them at a raffle at what? The club fair this year? They're about to expire." "Well!" Bokuto retracts his hand, haphazardly shoving the tickets into his pocket. Kuroo tries very hard not the wince when he sees them fold wrong when they go in. "I wanted to wait for the perfect time! All the rides are open now, and it's summer break! Ideal time!" "It's gonna be packed as hell." "Yeah? It's all the more people to see how terrified you'll be on the Exterminator." Bokuto grins. There's a challenge in his voice. Of course. Wouldn't be Bokuto if there wasn't a challenge. Kuroo scoffs. Wouldn't be him if he didn't step up to the challenge. Or at least egg him on. "You wish. You'll be the one holding on to me, scared outta your mind." "Whoever closes their eyes first on a ride loses!" In either to set the deal or to pull him to his feet, Bokuto extends his hand to him. Clicking off the weather channel, Kuroo, knowing his grin is taking up most of his face, takes Bokuto's hand and pulls himself to his feet. His palms are sweaty but his grip is still firm, stabilizing. "Lets get going, then." — Both of them lose. Neither of them really knows who lost first, per se. The Exterminator, the tallest ride that the park has to offer, towers near the entrance which, of course, they beelined to once they stepped in. On the first unsuspected drop, they had grabbed ahold of each other, screaming, eyes screwed shut. Their eyes stayed shut the remainder of the ride, the force of the wind too strong for them to even pry them. The ride was long over by the time they even thought about it. (Though— Now that Kuroo thinks about it, they never really agreed to what would happen if they lost.) Since they've both technically failed already, they do not hold back. On the ride that shoots the cart backwards, they're holding onto each other for dear life, hollering. On the tower drop they're grasping each others arms, screeching and laughing, dropping, then again and again. Every time they get off a ride Kuroo's bangs have been blasted back from his forehead and Bokuto's hair is slowly and eventually coming loose of its gel. Its almost ritual now to laugh about it unnecessarily hard for five minutes, pointing at Kuroo's cowlicks and Bokuto's willowy hair. Everyone else in the park probably hates them, but who gives a shit. They're having the time of their lives. Though it takes more than half the day, they dwindle through the lengthy list of rollercoasters at the park: Mt. Everest, American Eagle, Storm Runner, Steel Dragon, Fury, the Manta Ray... They even go through the crummy water-log-ride that's more of a musical show than a ride, lined with animatronic tanukis and flowers and rainbows and shit. It's the best ride yet. Even though they don't know the words, they sing along the whole time. The day's mostly gone by the time they slump down on a bench, one that happens to have the tracks of a ride twisting overhead, rumbling with the oncoming cart of screeching passengers. Kuroo's slouched across the entire length of the bench, back against Bokuto's shoulder, absently sipping at the icee in his hand that'll probably dissolve his teeth in due time. Bokuto, on the other hand, is scratching off furiously on a flimsy map splayed across his knees. "I think that's all of them!" Bokuto beams, chewing on his straw. He draws two thick lines in a green sharpie marker over Tanuki Timbers Forge Ride, gleefully humming its little jingle. Kuroo turns his head to peer at the map. There's something very satisfying about seeing every ride crossed out, conquered by the two of them— there quite literally isn't a place on the map they haven't crossed out. "Well, except there's still the restaurants we could go to," Bokuto continues, pointing with the capped end of the sharpie to Tanuki Tavern, a medieval-themed food stop, and Derby Hall, where there's apparently incredible chicken wings. "I mean, the only thing that's worth getting is this hell drink," Kuroo says, lifting his icee as indication. Truly, there isn't really anything special about the icee— aside from being so obscenely sugar boosted, its gotta be against FDA— but the cup that it comes in is a tanuki head. He's getting sick of tanukis at this point having seen them all damn day, but it's pretty funny since he got the cherry icee flavor and it looks like he's slurping up tanuki brains. (It's honestly lost all humor value now that he literally feels his teeth fading away in his gums. A funny cup in exchange for his teeth...) Bokuto shrugs, folding up the map. His icee is practically gone already even though Kuroo didn't see him drink from it. What the fuck. His hands are too steady, too. Did he actually drink it...? "I don't think either my wallet or yours would appreciate it if we went anywhere else, anyways!" "Then all we would have left is the gift shop. Buuut..." Clicking his tongue in mock annoyance, Kuroo pulls the bill of Bokuto's new hat down until it covers his eyes. Bokuto squawks, swinging at him. "We've already been in the gift shop since somebody haaad to cover up his hair..." "I couldn't just let the world see my hair when it's down! They're not ready for that," he whines, pulling the bill up. Wisps of his hair peak out from the back. Kuroo successfully suppresses the need to tuck them underneath the hat. I wasn't ready, either, Kuroo thinks airily, then feels very stupid. The cheeky little winking tanuki embroidered on the hat seems to be smirking at him. Fucker. "The gift shop's the last place you're meant to go at a theme park," Kuroo continues, pointedly looking away from that stupid tanuki. "But since we've already been, we can just go and leave." "Wait!" Perking up, Bokuto pops the lid off his icee and downs the rest in one go. Kuroo feels his insides shrivel just from watching. Bokuto drags a hand across his mouth, grinning, "There's actually one more thing! We passed it on the way to the Exterminator so we didn't get to appreciate it in its full glory! It's right by the entrance, too, so it's perfect! C'mon!" And then they finally reach it— the Holy Grail. Unreasonably tall, stationed in its own little pond, ridiculously cheesy; the statue of the park's mascot. Tammy Tanuki. It's meant to be grand, he's sure, but— but he just can't take it seriously now that he's not ten years old. A big ole bobble-headed cartoon tanuki in some mock power-ranger outfit, waving like its calling kids into the park, a cheeky 'follow me!'. The jets of water arcing around the metal structure have apparently been misaligned over the years, because now a stream hits the Tanuki straight into its open waving palm. There's silence for a note as the two of them revere before it. Kuroo waits expectantly. "I'm gonna get a coin on its head," Bokuto says abruptly, a fire igniting in his eyes. Christ, he's got his volleyball face on. "I'm gonna get it on its nose," he changes, striding to the railing with way too much determination, leaving Kuroo to try not to fall over wheezing. It takes a whole moment for him to gather himself to be able to trail after Bokuto. To rest his elbows on the rails He has to nearly bend in half, but he does so anyway, eyes creased in residual laughter, watching Bokuto dig in his pockets for coins. "Why the nose? You're gonna waste all of your money trying to make it," he says, because while he fuckin' loves the enthusiasm, he's gotta make sure Bokuto doesn't end up completely broke. "It's special!" Bokuto says, scandalized. He digs in every single one of his pockets, back, front, shirt, jacket. Pats himself loudly on the ass, as if that'll help him find coins. "Everyone just tosses it into the water! Wouldn't it, like, up how many years of luck I get if I get it in a cool place?" Kuroo snorts. "Or it might make Tammy Tanuki extra pissed at you. Isn't it throwing the coin into the water what makes your wish come true, or whatever it is? Landing it in some sick place on Tammy wouldn't count." "It would so count! Tammy would appreciate my skills." With a bright 'aha!', Bokuto pulls coins from the funky little coin pocket in the front of his pants. He unfurls his palm, and in it are nine measly coins. On closer inspection, Kuroo chokes on his laughter. They're not even yen. They're arcade coins. Bokuto looks a little heart broken, lips wobbly. "I was gonna use these the next time I went..." he mourns. "How long have they been in that pocket?" Kuroo asks, his voice hitching too high. Flushing in something close to embarrassment, Bokuto quickly counts and recounts. "That doesn't matter! What matters is that I'm gonna fuckin' land these trick shots!" He holds them out to Kuroo, who easily lends his palm for the coins to be dumped onto. He tosses one of the coins into the air a couple of times like he's getting a feel for the weight. Kuroo rests his chin in the palm of his unoccupied hand. "Ya sure you even want to do this, Bo? What if Tammy thinks you're disrespecting 'em by throwing some crummy aluminum coin at it? Not even in the water, too," he says languidly. Now that there's no real threat of Bokuto going to go broke money wise, there's no real need to dissuade him. But it's fun to do so anyways.

"Tammy loves me!" Bokuto hollers. He winds his arm back like he's a baseball player about to throw the ball of the century, and he just. Chucks the coin. Both of them watch as it streaks across the air, pings hollowly against the tanuki's forehead, and plops straight into the water below. A long moment of stunned silence settles. Kuroo whistles. "I'm surprised you even hit it." Bokuto gasps. "No faith! You have no faith in me!" He scoops another coin from Kuroo's palm, nearly sending all of them clattering to the pavement. "I have faith in the fact you're not gonna have any money after this." Instead of retorting loudly like he usually would, Bokuto grumbles something suspiciously sounding like 'thats not true', which sends Kuroo into a peel of obnoxious laughter. He chucks the coin again in a fit. It flies right over the entire statue, and Kuroo has to hold himself upright with the rails to keep from collapsing. Like the seconds passing, the amount of coins in Kuroo's hand dwindles. Within the span of six coins, Bokuto's changed tactics, now tossing rather than throwing, and he's gotten closer and closer to the tanuki's head, more-less its nose. When the eighth coin hits Tammy's eye and slides sadly into the pond, Kuroo hands Bokuto the final coin as a passing of rite.   "Final one, Bo, make it count," Kuroo grins cheekily, raising a fist in a cheer. "It always counts!" Bokuto says, pinching it from Kuroo's fingers. Clutching the coin in his palm like he's channeling all of his energy into it, Bokuto pops his eyes open— when'd he even close them, Kuroo wonders absently— and, with his new strategy of throwing underhand, swings his arm back, and tosses. Maybe because it's the last one, but it seems so much more dramatic, the coin glimmering in the sunlight. There's no spin to it from what Kuroo can see in that split second, Bokuto's gotten crazy good at tossing in such a small amount of time— and for a brief second, he thinks this is the one. It lands solidly on the tanuki's head, the metal resounding like a gong, and it slides straight down the middle of its forehead. His breath catches and Bokuto goes ramrod straight, lurching forward and grasping the rails as if he's going to leap over them, and they both watch as it slides, slides, and reaches the nose— —and teeters right off, flipping as it drops to the water. Bokuto screams. Kuroo folds over in laughter. A mother hurries her child past them, pointedly not looking at them. "What the fuck! It was there!!" Bokuto screeches, leaning almost completely over the rail like he's yelling at the statue. Kuroo has to grab the back of his shirt before he joins the coins in the pond. "I was so close!! This isn't fair!" It takes a hot second for Kuroo to manage a breath to speak. "It technically counts," he placates, laughter still trickling in his voice, "It did get to the nose." "But it fell off! It doesn't count like that..." he whines, finally wilting from all of his yelling. He slouches against the rails. "I was so close..." A pause, then Kuroo finds golden eyes peering up at him. "Unless..." "Nope." Kuroo makes an X with his arms. "Not a chance. I'm not letting you make me go broke too." "But—! I was so close that time!! I could definitely do it if I had another chance! And with actual money—!" "Nuh-uh. This is how people develop gambling addictions, Bo." "Gambling's the only addiction that pays back!" "And that is where we end this conversation," Kuroo says loudly, ignoring Bokuto's indignant squawk. If he were here, Akaashi would obliterate Bokuto for such a statement in his quiet, judging kind of way. He actually shivers, fearful. He stoops to scoop up his icee that he'd set down, pointedly about to leave, but Bokuto clings to his arm, all hundred-eighty-centimeters of him weighing him in place. "One more! Just one more! And I promise that I'll stop! Even if it doesn't get in! I'll even pay you back!" Bokuto pleads, literally throwing all his cards on to the table. From the look that's in his eyes, he's going promise his first born at this rate. And— well. He can never say no to Bokuto. Kuroo sighs loud and deliberate. Bokuto perks up. Like a dog perking its ears. Goddammit. "Just one?" He asks, unrelenting. "Just this one," Bokuto reassures, unbelievably starry-eyed. Dude looks like he could catch the sun he's so determined. Even though Kuroo knows he'll keep his word, he keeps his eyebrows raised in challenge. Bokuto stubbornly does not crumble under the scrutiny. Then he sighs again, reaching for his pocket. "Lemme check if I actually have one—" "TETSUROU," Bokuto wails, louder than loud, christ, if people weren't looking at them suspiciously before, they sure as hell are now. If his face turns bright pink, he blames it on the stupid sun with its stupid UV rays. He doesn't quite fumble with the coin as he pulls it from his pocket, but there's a weird jerk in his motions, embarrassingly. It's a five-hundred yen. Yowch. "If you miss, you gotta buy me that shitty ice cream that's the shape of Tammy's head," he barters. "I was gonna do that anyways!" Bokuto cheers and snatches the coin, outshining the sun behind him. — "... Impressive," Akaashi says, eyebrows raising as excited hollering nearly blows out the phone's speaker. The screams last seconds too long, and he lowers the phone once he's realized the rest of the video's nothing but screaming. He slides the phone back to Kuroo. "I'm surprised he even made it." "Both of you have no faith in me!" Throwing his hands up, Bokuto slouches in the booth as far as humanly possible. "Of course I could get it! I'm thatskilled." "You missed the first nine times," Kuroo reminds, taking a long sip of his smoothie.   Bokuto stills. "Well, yeah, I was figuring it out! Warming up!" He flounders. "If Kuro didn't give you his money, you wouldn't've made it," Kenma says around his straw and Bokuto deflates even more until he's practically a popped balloon on top of the table. Not even glancing once at him, Akaashi scoots his plate of food away from Bokuto's slump, out of collateral damage, in an almost practiced manner. Kuroo leans back till his head touches the booth, laughing. The four of them are tucked at a table next to a window, which is luckily situated in the path of the air conditioner. Bokuto had rallied them all here despite the crummy heat, claiming that they had to meet up, he's got a plan. Kuroo's only slightly worried of what that plan might be, since the last 'plan' involved raiding Karasuno's gym during practice. (It was a general consensus that one was shot down before it took flight. He doesn't even want to think of the wrath Sawamura would deal upon them.) Kuroo glances at Akaashi, measuring his expression: there's no tell-tale furrow to his brow, no slight scowl... He's just steadily picking away at his fries, nodding as Bokuto laments. Okay. That's good. Knowing Bokuto, he's probably spilt his plan to Akaashi before hand, so seeing that Akaashi specifically does not look conflicted means it's not too wild of a plan. That, or he simply hasn't said anything to Akaashi yet. Yipes. "Sooo," Bokuto begins, grinning. He even does a drum roll on the table, to which Kenma straight up glares at and Akaashi looks like he does not associate with anyone at the table. "Let's go to the beach!" "The... beach," Kenma repeats, deadpan. Kuroo chokes on his sip and spends the next minute trying not to die. None of them even try to thump him on the back, more-less glance at him to make sure he's not dying. Bastards. "The beach!" Bokuto repeats, leaning in, his chest nearly flat against the table. His eyes glimmer with a near tangible excitement. "Let's find a couple of days where we can go! Or it can even be just a day trip where'd we leave in the morning and spend the whole day there! I already looked, and the train ride wouldn't be too horrible, and I know where some public beaches are!" Kuroo raises his eyebrows, surprised. "You've really done your research this time, huh, Bo." "You betcha! There's no better time then now! And— We gotta play beach volleyball! If it's us four, I'm pretty sure that's more than enough to play!" Instantaneously, Kenma's face twists up into a scowl. "I'm not going to play volleyball. I'm not." "Kenmaaa!" "I'm not." Slouching into his seat, Kenma looks as resolute as he possibly can, even with his bright pink drink clasped in his hands. "It's going to be exhausting. You'll want to play too many matches, too, and that on top of the sun sounds awful." He slouches further until his chin and mouth disappears under the neck of his hoodie. End of input. Just before Bokuto can badger him more, Akaashi cuts in. "He's right, though," Akaashi says neutrally. Purposefully pauses to eat a fry. "What kind of 'relaxing break' would it be if we're going to be playing volleyball? We'd be doing the same thing if we stayed here." "But it's on the beach!" "My point didn't change." Like he's been shot, Bokuto slumps against the table. Presses his cheek on the cool surface, pouty as hell. "Do you just not wanna go to the beach...? Is that it...?" he asks more to the table than to Akaashi. Akaashi flicks his eyes to Bokuto then back to his fries. "It's going to be packed. And hot. I'd rather go during autumn." "But that's the point," he whines. "The hot sands, the blazing sun, the hot babes..." Clicking his tongue distastefully, Kenma redirects his attention to his phone. "'Knew there was an ulterior motive." And he drops the conversation with that one simple move. Once again, Kuroo chokes on his drink. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that— "C'mon! I mean!" Bokuto rises up, slamming his hands on the table and nearly sends a fork flying. "We'd be showin' off our stuff while we play! There's gotta be someone who'd be impressed! Anyone who'd think we're cool!" "I don't think it's necessary to try and look cool, Bokuto-san." While he speaks, Akaashi reorganizes the scattered cutlery, his motions very obviously a distraction from making eye contact. Kuroo salutes him in his thoughts. Even the strongest may fall to Bokuto's puppy-eyed look. "Regardless. I'm not keen on heat stroke. There's no sanctuary in hot water that's packed with people. I'd probably wouldn't go even if you said we wouldn't play volleyball, it's just not the right season for it." "But..." Bokuto flounders. Actually droops. Poor dude looks like all of his dreams have been crushed right in front of his eyes and its crumbly remnants scattered to the wind. Right around now, Kuroo decides he's finally had his fill of letting Kenma and Akaashi rip into his silly plans, and pats Bokuto's knuckles. "It's alright, big guy," he says, not quite keeping the grin from his voice, "I'm down to go. When are ya free?" And, he sees Kenma briefly roll his eyes into oblivion, Akaashi wince and brace. By some miraculous force, Bokuto does not quite burst at the seams, but comes very close to. — [Bokuto 10:22 A.M.] TETSU COME OUT FRONT DOoR NOW !!! ! It takes him a couple minutes to actually read the message, still groggy. He's been awake for the better part of an hour, but he's been too lethargic, soaking in his sweaty bed. Blegh. Even with all the covers kicked off into a pile at the end of his bed, he's still sweating profusely. The little portable fan he's got set up on his side table is cranked to its highest setting, too! This is bullshit, he thinks, closing his eyes and breathing slow, if he thinks I'm gonna go outside in this heat, this early... It's a little foreboding, that message. A little suspicious. Bokuto has no limits, and that will not change today. Even if he were to ignore the message, it would not stop him. Bokuto Koutarou is a force to be reckoned with. So he rolls out of bed. Wriggling on a pair of pants blindly grabbed from the floor, he clunkily makes his way down the stairs. He supposes it's a little miracle his mother isn't around to experience whatever Bokuto's got in store, or to even tease him about how this is the earliest he's ever been up during the break. Then she'd invite Bokuto inside for breakfast, regardless of whatever's waiting outside the door for him. Christ, she might even invite disaster inside. Have it sit at the table and hand it a plate of eggs. When he steps into the foyer, he can hear no immediately horrendous noises coming from outside, which actually does narrow down the options of why in the hell he's been called out of his house. Still doesn't reduce the amount of disaster that may occur, but at least it probably won't bother the neighbors. He puts a little steel in his spine and opens the door. Something golden, small, and very fast darts towards his knees and the next thing he knows he is flat on his ass, completely plowed over by what he belatedly realizes is a dog. All the air's knocked outta his lungs and he doesn't even get the chance to recover, especially when there's suddenly dog tongue all over his face. "Shit!" He thinks he hears the gods laughing at him. Bastards. Somewhere behind his obscured view of dog, Bokuto peers over him, face pinched apologetically, "Sorry, Tetsu! She got really excited and tore herself from my grip..." There's a sharp tug and the dog is pried of the top of him, finally letting him breathe. Since Kuroo's chemical makeup is one-hundred percent asshole, instead of asking why do you have a dog since as of three seconds ago he was very sure Bokuto didn't own one, or even pulling himself up from his current sprawl on the floor first, he says, "Should you really be walking a dog if you can't even hold on to the leash?" Bokuto rocks back on his heels, a corgi squirming in his hands as it tries to lick his chin, gaping at Kuroo like he's been hit. "I'm a little hurt. Should I be hurt? Actually, yeah, I am. Y'know what, just for saying that, Petunia, get him." Without warning, he releases the dog. "Petunia—?" Kuroo doesn't even get time to be boggled. With the force of a canon ball, the corgi crashes head first into his stomach again, maybe bruising some of his ribs. His fate doesn't look too well, so he resigns to it and eases back onto the floor, letting the dog lick his cheeks and forehead to its hearts content. Halfheartedly he pushes the dog's face from his, staring up to the ceiling. "You... named your dog Petunia?" he asks. Petunia's ears perk up and she briefly pulls away, looking down to him as if waiting for a command. After a half second of nothing, she returns to her original plan of cleaning his face for him. From his peripheral he sees Bokuto move and resettle next to him, feels his knee pressing into his side. "I don't have a dog?" Kuroo looks pointedly at Petunia who is slobbering all over the front of his shirt. "OH!" Rather than helping him, Bokuto reaches out and gives Petunia a hearty rub on the head. Petunia licks his hand like a greeting. A fond look lingers in Bokuto's eyes and Kuroo tries not to ogle for too long. "Petunia's not my dog, she's my neighbors! Ya know the lil granny next door? She asked me to take care of her dog for a while since her son isn't around to do it, he's on a trip or something, and she's got bad knees 'n all..." "God, I was gonna say what kinda bullshit—" he throws an arm over his eyes, nudging Petunia away. Finally she seems to get the memo and bounds to over Bokuto. "There's no way you wouldn't name your dog something silly if given the chance," Kuroo says. Bokuto has the audacity to look mildly offended, opening his mouth to retaliate, and halts. Closes his mouth. Pouts. "Touché," squinting his eyes, Bokuto huffs. "I think Petunia is a fine name, thank you very much!" "Never said it wasn't," he counters, then pulls himself up. "Just not one I'd think you'd go for. Maybe something like Soup." Looking up in thought, Bokuto nods like he's seriously considering it. "Hmm! Soup! Not bad! I was gonna go for something like Chad, or..." "Chad?" "It's fun!" "I don't think I could ever look at your dog and not lose it if you named it Chad." Bokuto gasps dramatically. "How could you! It's a lovely name!" Leaning down, he bonks his forehead with Petunia's, getting almost face-to-face with her. Well. About as face-to-face he can get with such an antsy dog. "Petunia, don't you think it's a good name?" Petunia, such a darling, hops up and tries licking his nose. He laughs, though it'd probably be more correct to call it a giggle, scratching beneath the dog's jaw. "Yeah! I know! It's brilliant!" Although he could sit here for hours, just watching Bokuto mess with this little corgi, laugh softer but just as bright, they are currently just sitting in his doorway with the door open, the heat crawling in. He can hear the phantom voice of his mom scolding him, Tetsurou, what the fuck, close the goddamn door, do you even know how much of the heat is coming in? "I'm guessing you didn't just bring her here to show her off, right?" Kuroo says pointedly. Both of them look up at him, eyes all sparkly 'n shit. Dammit, he thinks, squinting, it's already enough of a bright morning. "I thought about just going on a jog and taking her along, and I was, actually!" Bokuto says, lolling his head back to look up at the ceiling. Kuroo takes the moment to actually glance at his clothes— shorts, his usual kneepads, loose shirt. There's a very slight sheen of sweat on his arms and neck. "Then I passed your house and thought, hey, why don't I get Tetsurou?" "You woke me up to go jogging with you?" "With me and Petunia!" he reiterates, lifting Petunia up slightly like he's presenting her. Her tail wags with the force of typhoon winds and audibly smacks against Bokuto's bicep. Now. He has two options. Option one: go with Bokuto and sweat his ass off outside. Option two: don't go with Bokuto, get his persistent, moping messages, and sweat his ass off inside. Both options are gross and sweaty. Obviously. Obviously. Kuroo literally has to keep himself from grinning too too wide, reaching over to prod at the fleshy part of Bokuto's side. "Ya convinced me. Lemme change first. Help yourself to the freezer if you want." Bokuto cheers and, by extension of excitement, Petunia howls with him. — The teenager with sugar-pink hair at the ice cream stand greets them by name. Almost even has their usual order ready for them by the time they step up. To change things up, Kuroo gets a fudge pop. Dunno why— maybe it's just a chocolate kind of day. Bokuto hmms and haas in contemplation for five minutes. Familiar with his antics, the sugar-pink teenager lets him take his time. A queue of children has formed behind him, but none of them are putting up a fit— some of them even give him their input. ("The sonic one tastes more like blueberries!", "Strawberry's my favorite! Get that one!!") In the end Bokuto still gets his usual absurdly bright popsicle, a fluorescent-neon blue so obscenely blue it absorbs all surrounding light, though he's mopey whenever he leaves the stand. "It's not like we don't come here all the time," Kuroo drawls, almost done with his by the time Bokuto comes shoulder-to-shoulder with him. He didn't think it was possible to be this put out by ice cream choices, but this may be the saddest he's seen Bokuto ever since his last funk in a volleyball match. "But... but..." Almost glumly, Bokuto pulls the wrapper off and takes a bite. Never has he looked so unenthusiastic about his electric-blue pop before. "I wanted to get Bubbles..." Kuroo points his fudge pop at him accusingly. "You just wanted to see how fucked up her face could get." "Well, yeah!" Shocked, like he's surprised Kuroo has the audacity to state the obvious. "They're always funny! The last one I got didn't even have eyes!" "I remember that, yeah." The poor Bubbles pop not only was missing the whites of her eyes, but her pigtails had ended up in her cheeks. He's not entirely sure why the two of them had found it so funny in the moment, but they sure as hell did. Both of them had nearly collapsed onto the pavement from how much they howled with laughter— he's pretty sure a couple of bystanders thought they were on drugs or dying. He grins fondly. "Besides, I always end up getting this one!" Bokuto whines, his teeth already turning blue, "I mean, I like this one, but the Bubbles has its own kinda vibe to it, y'know? The chaotic energy of the fuck-up that's doomed for it and the gumballs for eyes. Love that crunch." Kuroo grins, exasperated, the remnants of the popsicle stick between his teeth. "I have no clue what you're talking about, man." In no particular rush, they meander along the sidewalk. Beside them, the river glitters with the sun's reflection, only blinding Kuroo whenever Bokuto's accidentally a small step behind to block out the glare. They're at the riverside that's caught somewhere between both their homes, not too horrible a walk from either to be an inconvenience. Whenever they have time to hang, they come around here. "So!" Bokuto beams once he's made a significant dent in his popsicle, fist pumped up in the air. With a plop, a small chunk of his popsicle flings onto the pavement. The lack of reaction from him is either him not noticing or not letting it get to him. "The beach!" "The beach," Kuroo nods. "This Wednesday." "This Wednesday!" Bokuto crows, excitement exponentially growing with each passing second. "I finally got some air into my volleyball, so we can use it when we go!" Bokuto says. He pats his bag where there's a very obvious volleyball-sized bulge. Of course he brought it along with him. Of course. "Though, I think there's a specific kind of volleyball we're meant to use at the beach? Er... because it... floats? Doesn't hurt as much when you spike it?" "That's just a beach ball, y'know, the inflatable red-blue-yellow balls?" Kuroo motions with his hand although he's not exactly sure what he's trying to gesture. "Not really specific for beach volleyball. Some people use it. They're inflatable, though. We— well, you might accidentally pop it if we use one." Gasping, Bokuto swipes at him. "What! I would not!!" Kuroo raises his eyebrows. "You nearly popped a regular volleyball with your super-inner-deluxe-crosses. An inflatable one would be vanquished in a single hit from you, you volleyball beast. We'd probably be playing with people who aren't volleyball players, too— Imagine the collateral damage. I don't think I'm ready to see you actually shatter someone's arm," he says drily. Grimacing, Bokuto surprisingly does not counter his point. "See, if Akaashi and Kenma were to come, we wouldn't have to worry..." he murmurs through the side of his mouth. Not quite bitter. Maybe edging on bitter. Maybe he's a little bit more hurt by their immediate refusal of the plan that Kuroo initially thought. "Nah, I think it might be for the better," Kuroo says flippantly. Cocking an eyebrow, Bokuto just gives him a look. "Well. Yeah, I mean, them not coming means we have no setters or braincells with us, but that means we have all the more freedom to do whatever we want," he points out, like he's revealing a hidden secret. "Also. Even if Kenma came with us, he woulda stayed underneath an umbrella the whole time, playin' on his gameboy. Completely invalidates the reason of going to the beach." Humming considerately, with his chin between his thumb and finger, Bokuto actually perks up, dawning on the possibilities. "Yer right. 'Kaashi's too nice, so he would keep Kenma company, so then regardless..." "Bingo," grinning, Kuroo pats him heavily on the shoulder. "So now that they're not coming— we literally have nothing stopping us!" "Do you think we can rent surfboards?" Honest to god, Bokuto twinkles he's so damn excited with the idea. "I've never surfed before! We could go surfing!" Kuroo has to bite down very hard on his tongue to keep from immediately saying let's do it. "I mean. Just because our residential braincells won't be there doesn't mean we should go do wacky shit that may end up with one of us drowned. 'Kaashi would skin me." "What are ya talkin' about? We can totally get someone to teach us!" "I think it just might be better to test the waters, yeah?" A little overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, Kuroo backtracks. "Next time we go to the beach we can surf. First we gotta make sure we can make it without a disaster playing volleyball there. Or accidentally wiping out some old grandma if the wind fucks with us whenever we're playing." Which reminds him— "Ah, shit. Wait a fuckin'—" Kuroo nearly drops both his phone with how quickly he pulls it from his pocket. Currently occupied with a bite of ice, Bokuto just peers curiously at him. He scrolls through the calendar he's got on his phone almost desperately, spotting Wednesday and the date— "Shit. I can't make it this week," he mutters, a scowl pulling at his face. Scratches at his cheek to keep it from cutting too deep. Dammit, how the hell did he forget? "My gram's birthday is this Tuesday. Ma's been designated as party host, and..." He cranes his head back and groans at the sky. "Fucking hell. My whole extended family's gonna be here for like, three days! I can't believe I forgot." "You forgot your grandma's birthday?" Bokuto says, scandalized. Even covers his mouth in a shocked gasp, like he's some horrified maiden from the eighteenth century hearing something uncouth. Dramatic asshole. "What a horrible grandson!" "Hey, I don't want to hear anything, you barely remember your own," Kuroo snipes back, punctuating with the popsicle stick. Bokuto shrugs, beaming. Not a damn care in the world. "I always have you to remember for me, anyways! I at least remember my granny's. Unlike someone here..." Kuroo snorts. "Bastard," he says, elbowing Bokuto, which consequently nearly sends the popsicle flying from his hands. "I wish I could just bail, but I know my mom would give me shit for the next decade if I did." Eyebrows shooting up, Bokuto smacks his arm both, maybe in retaliation, maybe not. Maybe he's shocked? "Dude! Our beach trip isn't that important, you shouldn't skip out on family just to hang with me! Your mom'll give me shit, too, if I let you come along!" "I see your true motive, you bastard. You just want my mom to like you enough to let you steal shit from our fridge," he accuses. Bokuto has the gall to not look ashamed of being found out. "Anyways, you're a helluva lot more fun to be around, y'know?" Kuroo continues, tipping his head back, back until he can't go further. He feels a little bare, talking like this. About this. "You don't ask me about the college I'm gonna go to or how I'm still single. Is that just an old person thing? To snoop in my life?" Gnawing on the popsicle stick, he shoves his phone back into his pocket begrudgingly. "Plus, you wanted to go this week. You've already gotten everything ready, right? We shouldn't have to push it off because I forgot about a family reunion." "Wuh?" Bokuto only looks slightly perplexed. He bites down on his popsicle in thought. "If we can't do it this week, we can just do it next, right?" He says around his bite, like it's the most obvious thing in the whole universe, the only possible answer. A bead of melted popsicle runs down the wooden stick, spilling across Bokuto's fingers. He awkwardly gurgles, unmelted ice still in his mouth, and he tries his best to lick the trail and proceeds to knock himself in the forehead with the ice pop. It's. Endearing, maybe, if not completely embarrassing to watch. Ahh, Kuroo thinks and averts his eyes. His neck is warm under the sun. "Alright, then," Kuroo says, rubbing at the back of his neck, "Same time next week? I swear I won't get wrapped up in anything." The grin Bokuto has rivals the sun above them. "I'm holding you to that! You're gonna buy me a Bubbles pop if you skip out!!" — "Man, is the AC even on?" Yamamoto knocks his head against the wall after collapsing against it. There's a pause as he inhales half his waterbottle. "I'm. I'm melting." "It's on," Shibayama says though he doesn't sound all too convinced, even though he's planted directly in front of the airflow. He and Inuoka look like they'd like to crawl into the AC unit since maybe that would be cooler. Kenma lays nearby, almost dead. "It sure doesn't feel like it's on," Kenma says into the floor. Kuroo reaches down and pulls on the back of his shirt. The noise of his shirt peeling off his back is, quite frankly, really gross. "C'mon— get up, you're gonna become a puddle there." "I might." "No, you're not," Yaku swoops in, forcing a water bottle into his hands. When Kenma doesn't move immediately Yaku threatens, "I'm not going to force you to drink if you don't move, but I'm going to force you to drink if you don't move." Immediately Kenma moves. "Don't." "Can we end practice early?" Lev cries from his place sprawled out on the floor. Fumbling with his water bottle, Kuroo watches as Haiba Lev, residential skyscraper and airhead of Nekoma, tips the bottle back and accidentally waterboards himself. Kuroo presses his mouth into a thin line, trying to keep his expression unchanging. From beside him, Yaku's turned away, shoulders shaking. Kuroo glances towards the clock. It's not too far into practice, maybe forty minutes. Usually by this type they're all raring to go, just getting started into their groove, but as he looks around, there's unmistakable sheen of sweat already layered on the floorboards and everyone's moving so sluggishly. Even at training camp they're not this exhausted, not even on the final days. "If you don't mind going home in this heat right now, I can talk to coach about it," he offers. Lev's face twists like he's tasting something nasty. "Neither sound good," Lev says hoarsely, using his shirt as a rag to wipe off his face. His face is just as damp as it was before when he pulls his shirt away. He groans. "I can't even wipe off my face! My shirt's already too sweaty to even absorb it! I think my face just got more wet..." Yaku's eyebrows raise like he cannot even fathom. "So you just smeared all of your sweat onto your face?" "That's fucking gross, dude," Yamamoto laughs, more amused than disgusted. "It's just sweat! It's natural!" Lev screeches, growing embarrassed, flushing even more under his skin. "I was already sweating on my face!" Teshiro, an angel, gives Lev a towel to save himself. As Lev scrubs at his face, Teshiro looks towards Kuroo, curious. "Would it even be wise to end practice today? It's meant to get hotter this week, then we'll have to practice in that since we'd've stopped this one." "Hotter?" Lev blurts, jerking the towel from his face to gape. Even though he just toweled off his face, the sweat just reappears. "It's already hotter than the sun! It can't get hotter than this!" "That's what a heatwave does, dumbass," Yaku grumbles. "Are you even from Tokyo? It's like this every summer." He nudges Lev's thigh not unkindly, but sharp enough to get him moving. "C'mon, nothing gets to ya, but some shitty weather does?" Although hesitantly, Kuroo calls for break. No one audibly protests, but he sees it in the dragging of feet, the slant of shoulders. At least they're good sports about it. Except for Lev. He'll have to check with Nekomata about calling practice over early today. — If he were an asshole, he could say 'I told you so!' and point and laugh. But he's not an asshole. He's nice. So he says: "Dude, you look like a cherry." Bokuto shoots him what's possibly the sharpest frown he's ever seen on him. It should be threatening since Bokuto has never given him such a stink eye, but the skin on his face is bright pink and there is no way on the planet he can take him seriously like this. The smile that threatens to split across his face almost slips by him, so he has to press a hand to his mouth to keep it from growing. Though he can try, there's no way he can keep the amusement from the tail of his words. "How in the hell did this happen?" Parked on a stool in the bathroom, Bokuto fidgets with his shirt in his hands, borderline embarrassed. His back is open for the viewing, the tanned expanse of it abruptly changing to an angry pink in clean lines at each of his shoulders and a wide scoop on his nape, along with a small gradation on the small of his back from where his shirt probably rode up. With how the sunburn's nearly glowing it's so bright, he's surprised it isn't audibly sizzling. "That's the thing," Bokuto rocks back in his seat, miserable, "I didn't even do anything! Well, not on purpose, but..." he flings his hands up in exasperation, nearly tossing the shirt with the motion. "I was just playin' with some of the kids next door, since their dad had to go get food for dinner— I wasn't even out there that long!" "So, due to the kindness in your heart, you've... fried, for a lack of better words," Kuroo snorts. There's no other word to describe the way his skin is radiating heat. If he was out there for any longer, Kuroo's worried his skin would have started blistering and boiling. Unsurprisingly, the heatwave's been unyielding. Bokuto blinks. Gasps with his whole chest. "Oh god, I hope they didn't get as burned as I did—! It was so fucking hot earlier—" He straightens up and for a second Kuroo's pretty sure he's going to leap to his feet and sprint to their house, just to make sure they're alright, up in arms with bottles and bottles of aloe vera. "They probably didn't," he quickly intercedes, almost reaching out for Bokuto's shoulders to guide him back to the stool but deflects his motion last second. There's no place on his shoulders that's not burnt, and he's not physically or mentally prepared to face the reaction if he were to even touch the sensitive burns. Unaware of his brief dilemma, Bokuto peers up to him, puppy-eyed, unsure, jittery. Kuroo sighs through his nose. "They probably didn't burn. Since... well, I'm assuming you went out to get the mail or something and the dad roped you into watching them while he went out, right?" "Right!" he nods enthusiastically. "So they were probably already planning to play outside," he points out, "hence, they probably had sunscreen on already. Unlike you, who didn't plan on staying out there aside from getting the mail." Bokuto ahhs in understanding, settling back into his seat. "Makes sense!" He leans back, back until he touches the cool wall behind him. A wince scrunches up his face but he relaxes once the initial pain of the sunburn fades from the chill. "I just wasn't expecting to scorch like I did. I've been outside for longer and never got burned! I really did get screwed over today, huh! Does a heatwave also mean that UV rays get stronger?" "Maybe," Kuroo shrugs solemnly. He himself feels the heat of a sunburn growing on the back of his neck, tips of his ears— he was outside for, how long? A couple of minutes to the station, then couple to walk here? It's probably an actual miracle Bokuto didn't straight up get sun poisoning. He enters the bathroom a little more, resting against the counter with his arms crossed. "So. You didn't just call me over just so I could laugh at you, right?" A pout pulls at his face. It's more of a subdued pout— probably because it hurts to be expressionate with burns that bad. He looks very sheepish for a moment, and Kuroo honestly cannot tell if his face just got pinker or not. He moves to rub his neck and immediately pulls away once he touches it, making a face. "I... I needed someone to put the aloe stuff on the spots I can't reach..." The acoustics of the bathroom amplifies Kuroo's laughter to a deafening note. He doesn't mean to laugh this hard, he swears, but it's just so— so cute of him. "You—" he wipes under his eye, getting dangerously close to straight up giggling. Bokuto's coiled up like a spring, pouting, embarrassed. "—couldn't you get your mom to help you? or your dad?" "It's! It's embarrassing!" he whines, throwing his shirt at Kuroo's face. "And besides, they're out for the day! And I mean—!!" "Why not Akaashi? He lives closer than I do!" "I didn't want to bother him!" "So you wanted to bother me?" He guesses Bokuto doesn't catch the amused lilt in his voice because guilt flashes across his face. The tension bleeds from him until he's slouching. "'Kaashi woulda lectured me on being more cautious," he slumps against his knees, staring at the tiles on the floor, "I knew you woulda just laughed and, like, told me to be careful, but I wouldn't feel as ridiculous as I would've felt if it were Akaashi..." Abruptly, he straightens up. "Not that I don't appreciate his fretting! I know it's kinda weird, so, I, uh..." Ahh. He gets that. He wonders if Kenma feels like that whenever he scolds him for staying up late and playing video games. Then again, Kenma's not a soft-hearted beefcake— he honestly probably doesn't give a shit about what Kuroo says, seeing that he still does it. Kuroo just waves off the worry. "Nah, I get it. It's a little less embarrassing since the worst I'll do is poke fun at you. Where's the Banana Boat stuff?" "Under the sink," Bokuto says automatically, then freezes. And, like a dawning sun, his expression brightens. "Bro...?" Kuroo's knees crack when he crouches down to the sink cabinets. Deep in the corner, past an unfathomable stock of hair gel, is the soothing lotion. "I'm already here, so I might as well," he shrugs, grin growing alongside Bokuto's. (As if. Even if Bokuto was forthright whenever he messaged him under the guise of 'tetsu pls its URGENT', he'd still come over and help.) (Whipped.) "Tetsuuu," he cries, reaching out like he wants to tackle him in a hug but physically cannot. "You're an absolute lifesaver, man! I can do my arms just fine, I just can't reach my back..." "I mean, it's just the nape of your neck. A little below it. You can't reach that?" Kuroo asks, stepping around Bokuto and taking a seat on the tub's edge. In a near habitual motion, like they've done this before, Bokuto immediately leans back and slots right between Kuroo's knees. He pointedly does not think anything of it, not at all, and chalks it up as it's easier for me to reach this way. He does not think about how warm Bokuto's skin is, even if it's not the sunburnt parts. Not even about how Bokuto tips his head back, nearly knocking the crown of his head into Kuroo's nose, how the smile curves his eyes from this angle. Not at all. Nope. Shirking, Bokuto shakes his head, the motion pulling Kuroo from inside his head. "My shoulders are tender since, y'know, they're crispy." To show, he raises his arm as high as it can go without making him strain— which, understandably, isn't very high. Maybe high enough to pluck something off a low hanging shelf. "And I'm not flexible at all! Even if I was able to move my arms more, I don't think I can reach it? I don't... really know how far it goes down, I can't really see it. And I can't really feel it out..." "It starts riiiight here." Kuroo presses the pad of his finger shy of where the pink starts, right above where his shoulder blades meet. Immediately he feels and sees every part of Bokuto tense up, ridged. It startles a laugh from him and he retracts his finger, and like an off switch, Bokuto slumps back down. "Dude," Bokuto laughs with his belly, the sound taking up the entire space of the room. He misses by a wide berth when he swings around to smack him. "You gotta gimme some kinda warning! That scared the shit outta me!" The muscles in his back dance as he straightens up, rolling his shoulders, and, frankly, it's a little distracting. Kuroo takes to looking at the soft hair curling at his nape instead. Which doesn't help. Shit. "Well, this is rather intimate," he says right over his inner turmoil because he is a man of composure, he cannot, will not, let this be where he loses it. "Ya sure you're not squeamish enough for me to do this?" Bracing, Bokuto says, "I'm ready for whatever you've got for me!" "Then I'll be sure to slather you up," he says lowly, squirting the aloe into his palm. The pump sputters, making a weird goopy noise, and his whole ambience of being even slightly risqué is ruined instantly. Whole bodied, Bokuto shivers. Laugh reaching squeaky, he twists around, planting a palm on Kuroo's face and shoving. "Dude. I'm literally a french fry right now. A fuckin' hush-puppy! No innuendos, please, it really hurts to smile like this! Keep it tame!!" Kuroo's nearly too entranced by the pitch of the laugh that he forgets himself and nearly flips backwards into the tub. "What! That's what I do best, though!" "Banana Boat just isn't sexy enough, Tetsu!" "Yeah, yeah, sure," he says, and without warning, smears the lotion across Bokuto's neck. Bokuto shrieks. "I said warn me!!" "Oops." — "I could kill you," Kenma grumbles, impatiently tucking his hair behind his ears. It slides right back out from behind his ear, damp with sweat. The entirety of him sags, like he's about to melt into a puddle on the pavement. "I could really kill you right now." It's easy to pretend he doesn't see the smoldering glare he's being given. He's dealt with it for... how many years now? Shrugging it off is just as easy as swiping a bug off his skin. "The gym has air conditioning. C'mon, we're already halfway there." He specifically does not say anything about how both of them and every person under the sun knows the gym's AC is shitty at best. And at least twelve teenage boys crammed in front of it? It can't even be called cooling at that point. Kenma huffs. He shifts his gym bag in a restless motion, pulling at his shirt. "Why are we practicing in this hell weather," he grumbles, "I'm already exhausted. I want to go home." "We've been let off the hook a whole lot recently— we gotta at least actually get some practice in instead of just calling it a day after warm ups." "No." "Yes, we have to." "No," he gripes. His hands flutter around again, pushing back his hair, readjusting his bag, fanning with his shirt. "We are going to be perfectly fine if we miss out on practice because of a heatwave. There's no matches in forever. We can practice when it's not hotter than satan's ass outside." "Sure, but then we'll have missed out chances to level up. You want to go against Hinata at your best, don't you?" From his peripheral, he sees Kenma straighten up. He grins. Hook, line, sinker. Kenma scrunches his nose and swings a hand at Kuroo's gut. "I hate you." "Do not." "I'm not doing this. I do. I'm about to die in my own sweat and other teenage boys sweat and it's going to suck. I could be at home right now. I'm out here, going to die in this shitty heatwave, because of you." "It's just sweat. You're already sweaty," Kuroo points out, "so it's just sweat on top of sweat." "And? you think I want to get even more sweaty? Bold of you," Kenma seethes, shoving the gym doors open with more force than necessary.   Entering the gym feels like entering a goddamn sauna, and practice hasn't even started yet. Kuroo mourns in advanced. He's glad this is one of the practices they do without Nekomata around— he's not sure if it'd be alright for the old man to move in this temperature. "Ah, Kenma!" Lev cries from inside the locker room, somehow still excitable in this oven of a gym. "Don't come near me," Kenma seethes before disappearing behind the locker room doors. Kuroo tilts his head back. Breathes in deeply. This is going to fucking suck. Twenty minutes into practice they've had four breaks. The breaks so far have consisted of refilling and refilling their bottles they've been drained so fast. Also a lot of laying around. Sweaty imprints are spotted across the floorboards from where they've laid. They're almost like chalk outlines for bodies. The analogy feels a little morbid. Frankly, at this rate, they'll have laid around more than done any substantial practice. He thought that the AC coulda helped somewhat in the slightest— he probably should have known it's practically useless after it reaches a certain temperature outside. On the fifth break, Lev loses it. "Wait, wait, wait," Lev whines, clutching the spout with a desperation, "I thought global warming would get us all in thirty years! Why is it happening now?! Heatwaves just aren't like this!!" "Move, you big idiot," Yaku grits, giving Lev a hard shove that doesn't result in much, seeing how Lev is quite literally wrapped around the spout. There's a real chance of bodily harm that Lev does not seem to realize yet. "It's just a heatwave, dumbass. There's no way its global warming— imagine the kinda crap we woulda have to have done to cut the expectancy by thirty, to make the temperatures that bad." Lev shoves back. Why is he putting up a fight. Why did he think it was okay to wrap himself around the spigot, Kuroo wonders, briefly considering using his power as captain to get him the fuck off. He wants his damn water. He's going to become horrifically dehydrated from sweating, standing right here. "Its not that hard to believe! Seeing what corporations can do, if they all just said screw it, the ozone layer could be gone in a snap! The greenhouse effect could go into tenfold with their word!" Kai swoops in to refill his bottle when Yaku solidly plants his foot on Lev's gut, which, surprisingly, unsurprisingly, leads to a scuffle. "It's only this prefecture," Kai cuts into Lev's hysteria, sounding not in the least worried, though he's sweat covered and already going for another refill he just drank all of it so fast. What a saint. "I have relatives in Hyougo and they've said it's not like this there." "But that's also Hyougo, which is, like, far away!" "Very eloquent of you, Lev." "Why here?" Finally, Lev peels away from the faucet, falling away with Yaku's foot in his gut. He flops straight back onto the pavement and nearly gets trampled now that the water's free again. "Ow—! How— how could global warming just get concentrated in one area? That doesn't make sense!" "It's not global warming," Kenma says absently. There's a flurry of emoticons on his phone screen that can only come from one Hinata Shouyo. He shoves the device into his pocket once he notices the cheeky curve of Kuroo's eyes. "It's kind of like a monsoon that's just moving slow. But instead of rain, it's heat." "But what coulda even made this kind of thing happen? I've never heard of anything like that," Inuoka wonders aloud. The absolute god-send, he helps Lev from the ground where he probably would've stayed. "Supernatural," Fukunaga pops in sagely, wiggling his fingers in his strange emphasis. Lev and Inuoka collectively scrunch their faces up, unbelieving. Kenma shrugs. "At this rate it doesn't seem that far-fetched." "It's just a test of willpower, ain't it?" Taketora says, squirting the water from his bottle with such force it actually makes him choke when it hits a certain spot in the back of his throat. From beside him, Kenma makes such a face at the word willpower and the gurgling. "The more resilient we are in this kind of heat, the better we'll be in matches, right?" Smiling politely but with an exasperation around the edges, Kai says, "I'm not sure what kind of conditioning this would even be. I doubt we'll have any matches in this kind of heat." Because he's so nice and also the captain, he lets everyone else on the team refill their waters first. Finally, finally, he can refill his. Kuroo feels a century-old weariness when he finally takes an endless gulp. "Let's just call it off for today," he decides. —

"—clocking in at 39 degrees, it's officially the hottest day in Tokyo this summer! There's a sparing amount of clouds out today, but don't rely on them for cover. Take precaution going outside today, drink plenty of water—"

Pulling at the neck of his shirt, Kuroo tries to lend his ear more, but the broadcast's cutting out. Behind the counter the store attendant curses, flicking at the radio which looks a little too archaic to even been working in the first place. It reaches static before the spokesperson's voice becomes somewhat comprehensible again, the tinniness of the radio nearly drowning out every word.

From somewhere deeper in the store he can hear Bokuto still humming about which drink to choose. They took a pitstop here both because they were thirsty and because they may just have turned to mush if they stayed outside any longer. The broadcaster sounds a little too chipper about the damn heat than she needs to be.

Asshole. She's probably in some lovely air-conditioned building, unbothered by this bullshit. He's out here in this crummy store with the only form of relief coming from a rickety fan on the counter.

Ugh. Uuughhh.

Something very, very cold touches his neck. The noise he lets out is too high pitched, something he would love to say didn't come from him, but sadly, unfortunately, it does. Whirling around, he snatches the bottle from Bokuto's hands, who's face is so scrunched up to keep from laughing it's practically a raisin.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Kuroo says blandly, jabbing at Bokuto's side with the bottle. Bokuto screeches.

"You jumped! You actually jumped!" He's laughing too hard to even try and fight back. Each jab he gets to the side he shrieks at, folding in more on himself until he's basically crouched over. Kuroo decides to spare him for a moment to let him breathe. "You jumped, like, two feet in the air! Like a cat!" Comically, Bokuto gasps even louder. Unfolds like a dry sponge getting a splash of water. "Like a CAT! DUDE—"

"Don't say it."

"NEKOMA—"

Kuroo smothers Bokuto before his volume can amp up even more. "Understood, you've made this joke a billion times, alma mater cats, I'm basically a cat, yeah, yeah," he mocks. Bokuto's eyes crease up and he's laughing again, against Kuroo's hand, which is a weird feeling, so he peels it off before it gets weirder. "I can't believe you still find those kind of jokes funny. Bird brain."

"Excuse you, but owls are the smartest creature out there!" Bokuto puffs up like he's personally proud of it.

"They're literally not." Kuroo pokes his tongue out at the abashed gasp. "Crows have you beat. Even pigeons are smarter than owls."

The look of pure hurt on his face is hysterical. He actually goes through a facial adventure, which touches upon rage, grief, confusion, betrayal— before he just mutters: "Fuckin' Karasuno..."

Snorting hard enough it hurts, Kuroo puts a hand on Bokuto's shoulder to steer him out of the store. The second they step out, it's like walking into a different world, a different universe. He might be imagining it, but Kuroo feels the sweat immediately grow on his spine and soak through his shirt. Gross. Bokuto grumbles something deep. Wipes the sweat from under his eyes. They power on.

Maybe three minutes out in the heat and all energy they had earlier has sapped out of them and dissipated into the atmosphere. He thinks he saw it go with the heat coming from the pavement.

He is basically half his height he is sagging from the heat so much. Each step he takes the more he wilts. Perhaps not all that strangely, he can relate to the foliage they're passing, a grim shade of brown instead of their usual green. He, too, feels like he's withering at the edges. Overheating, dehydrated, about to set ablaze from the sun rays. In the false kinship he feels in the moment, he briefly considers sharing some water with the plants. Then he realizes that's stupid. Ridiculously stupid. There is not enough for both him and every single willowing plant out here.

"It's hot," Bokuto says, tone flat for once. When Kuroo glances over, his face is so scrunched up in a grimace so intensely Kuroo's momentarily scared it won't come off his face. "It's hot."

"Bo, if you keep talking about it, you'll only be more aware of it," Kuroo grits, lacking bite. The water bottle's already losing its blissfully cold condensation. He presses it to the back of his neck anyway— anything feels like a blessing against the sun.

"Te-tsu-rou!" Bokuto bursts, gesturing wildly, almost knocking Kuroo's elbow. It's a miracle he can even move this animatedly in this hellish beatdown. "I'm sweating my entire weight, man! I can feel the sweat between my toes! It might be pooling in my shoe—"

Grimacing, Kuroo presses the water bottle to the side of his face. The chill of the bottle seeps into his skin, an immediate comfort. He rolls it up his cheek, trying to sap out every degree of chilliness. Beads of condensation run down his face and he can feel it evaporating right off of his skin. "Wanna try camping out in a konbini until it gets cooler?"

"Nah, man, we're already so close to your place," Bokuto says, though he looks like he'd rather do nothing but exactly that. What an absolute trooper. "It's only gonna get hotter the longer we wait, right? Unless we stay till night, which like, defeats the whole purpose."

Kuroo, however, is not as strong willed as Bokuto. If he wasn't here, Kuroo would stop at every damn store to keep from being outside for longer than thirty seconds. But he is here. So he resigns himself to Bokuto's reasoning.

It is going to be a long walk.

Almost twenty-five minutes later and six stops for breathers along the way, they spill into his house, practically falling over each other once the door gives way. Near immediately Bokuto slings his bag onto the floor, punts his shoes off, but hesitates when he grabs the hem of his shirt. "Is your mom home?" he asks meekly.

Kuroo makes a face at his shoelaces, boggled. "What? I don't think she is."

"Cool." And in one fluid motion, his shirt comes flying off. He lets out a long yell that audibly comes from deep within his gut. "Aaaaugh! It's HOOOT!" Dragging his feet and his shirt, Bokuto moves sluggishly further into the house, specifically towards the kitchen. There's a loud thump and then what sounds like a body slumping onto the floor. Then a long wail. Slowly, it tapers, until it is no more.

Peering around the corner Kuroo finds that Bokuto had clipped his hip on the kitchen counter and unfortunately has passed away. He nudges the body with his foot when he passes. The body stiffens. "You alright there?"

With his face squished against the floor it's a little impossible to truly understand what is said, but Bokuto probably says: "I think this floor might be the best thing I've ever felt."

Snorting, he jabs his foot into Bokuto's side just to be an asshole. Tugging open the fridge door, he almost collapses against it, more than willing to just sit here and soak the chill in. He allows himself to be selfish for four seconds. Four seconds seem so, so short, but if he allows any more than that, he may not move away, so he quickly acquires a cold bottle of water.

"Holy fuck." Suddenly Bokuto's voice sounds a helluva lot clearer. He's peeled himself from the floor, now resting on his forearms, eyes pinpointed on the fridge like he's a predator locked on prey. "That feels fucking awesome."

"What, the breeze?" Kuroo jokes. Moves to close the fridge door.

Almost like a crazed animal, Bokuto scuttles— there just ain't another word to describe it— across the floor, planting himself directly in front of the fridges contents to purposefully prevent the door from being closed. Immediately, he sags, sighing, blissful.

A little befuddled, Kuroo laughs, bubbling. Bokuto's entire thigh is resting on his foot. "Dude?"

Bokuto simply reaches over and pats the spot next to him.

Kuroo's a simple man. Really. He allows himself a delegated amount of time to be selfish to be polite, to not be greedy. But this is an invite. So he goes. Sinking to his ass, he scoots closer and closer till his shoulder aligns beside Bokuto's and the edge of the door.

They probably look like idiots. They most definitely look like idiots. Both of them are sitting in front of the fridge's open door like they're starving, but instead of food, its the sweet bliss of chilly air. Sitting too close to each other to be even slightly comfortable, especially with how sweaty they are, but it's physically impossible to move from the sweet, sweet cold air.

Bokuto's right, though. It feels fucking awesome.

"My mom will kill us if we keep doing this," Kuroo says airly. Simply saying it to say it. With no conviction he grabs the door handle as if to close it, but with both of their bodies in the way, it doesn't go further than pressing into his own thigh. He slumps against it instead.

Bokuto hums. He looks one step away from crawling straight into the fridge, the shelves and food be damned. Anything to lower his body temperature.

Neither of them move.

As much as Kuroo himself would love to stay here, now that he's actually mentioned his mother he's very aware that she will commit murder if she sees this. It takes nearly all of his perseverance to roll out of the fridge's way, now slumping against it so it would close. Unmoving, Bokuto only grunts when it hits him. Kuroo leans harder. No budge.

"Bro."

"Dude."

Kuroo presses his cheek against the door edge. It's blissfully cold. The sunburn on his cheeks feels like it's healing right up. "C'mon. You gotta move. I do not have the power to stop my mom."

Every single muscle in Bokuto's arms and back visibly tense up. It's been a track record recently, how much he's seen Bokuto shirtless. What, is he becoming the new Karasuno's Number 5? Allergic-to-wearing-shirts? "I can't. It's too nice," he near whispers, strained, like he's caught between a horrible detrimental decision of life and death.

Unyielding, Kuroo puts the rest of his weight on the door. The vegetable compartment digs into Bokuto's side. "Just close me in the fridge," Bokuto begs, sagging forwards.

"No can do," he says. If it were an option he'd do it himself, but if his gangly limbs won't fit, Bokuto's beefy ones sure as hell won't. He puts his hands on Bokuto's shoulders and pushes. With minimum force, he falls right over.

"Auuugh, Tetsuuu!" he anguishes. Squirms like he's fight back to stop him, but is simply shoved out of the way. Like he's damming off the river of life, Kuroo closes the fridge door. Bokuto's very close to crying.

Heat lays heavy once the fridge air is used up. Bokuto has not moved, staring so longingly at the fridge. Not even blinking whenever Kuroo nudges him.

It is not looking good for their beach trip. The thought pulls at his guts, pulling them down to his feet. If such a short walk stretched into twenty-five minutes, he's got no clue how long it'll take for them to get to the station. And once they're there—

Thinking about the train cars makes him feel a certain kind of dread. He nearly didn't make it outside for ten minutes. To be in a metal death trap with tons of other people, for maybe two hours... they'd emerge as goo. Could they even make it to the next station without completely melting into the seats? The station might even be shut down. He hasn't even checked.

But it's just Tokyo, too— It's literally perfect at the beaches outside of Tokyo. Lovely temperatures, breezy days. Once they're outside of Tokyo, it's paradise.

Getting there's half the story.

"We're probably gonna have to raincheck for tomorrow, Bo," Kuroo says, knocking his head against the wall. Slouching, he inches down the wall, probably leaving a trail of sweat. Kinda disgusting. He honestly doesn't do anything to keep himself upright. Doesn't feel like he should.

For the second time, he's pushing this trip off, even though he knows how much Bokuto's prepared for it. Hell, he even went ahead and bought beach towels. (They were animal themed, too. Cats and Owls. They were so cute, Kuroo literally felt his heart squeeze when Bokuto showed him.)

Something doesn't quite wilt about Bokuto, but he slackens, sloping. "Okay," he says simply, pouting, and that's it. Kuroo waits for the refutal, the 'it's not thaaat bad outside!', the 'we can power through it!' He waits. Waits.

There is none.

Kuroo's stomach flips strangely, a weird dread in his gut, so he pulls himself upright to quell it.

"Hey," he says, quickly thinking of something, anything, to get that look off of Bokuto's face. With a curious expression, Bokuto rests his cheek atop his knee, waiting patiently. It's very cute of him. Kuroo distinctly pushes that thought aside and grins instead. "How does a water balloon fight sound to you?"

—

Practice is cancelled. Kuroo thanks every god under the sun. Someone would have died from practice if it were to happen— it'd probably be Lev, from either because he's got the heat tolerance of an ice cube or from Yaku's rage. Who knows.

However, during the time he would've been at practice, he finds he has absolutely nothing to do.

At this rate he might just fuse into the couch. His skin's already sticking, so it might as well just blend together. He can't practice volleyball, he might roast if he does it outside or break shit if he does it inside. The TV has nothing interesting on. He doesn't have school work he needs to catch up on. What is he even meant to do?

Audibly his skin tears from the couch when he rolls off. It doesn't hurt, but christ, the noise— he winces. In a haze, he moves to the kitchen, now hungry since he has nothing else to do.

When he opens the fridge with a grand swing, it's sad how hard it is to not crawl it. The popsicle box in the freezer is pathetically empty. Cursing the past him for leaving the fucking empty box like some kind of asshole, getting his hopes up, motherfucker, he plucks it from the shelf and chucks in the trash. After he's relished in the ice crystals on it, of course.

He rests his forehead against the fridge door.

Ahh. He wants some watermelon.

One-hundred percent on a whim, he goes to the store.

(It might not have been his smartest idea, bogged by exhaustion and heat, but he makes it. Somehow.)

"Welcome," the cashier calls from somewhere in the store. Politely she does not say a thing when he takes a whole ten minutes just standing at the freezer section to cool down. She also does not say a thing about how he should definitely not be outside at the height of day.

It's dead silent aside from the whirring of the plug-in fan at the counter and the cicadas outside. No one else is out and about. Usually, he can hear the chatter of the road outside, the screeches of children playing by the river. It's quiet. A damn ghost town outside. Is he in the Matrix? He's in the Matrix.

Maybe the heat's finally turning his brain to goo. He stands in front of the watermelon section for seven minutes before he realizes he's not actually in front of the watermelons, they're broccoli. He shuffles further down. Ah. There they are. Visibly there's no damn difference between the watermelons, but he still stands there and just looks at them, eying the textures. He gets a whole watermelon.

"Everything alright, Tetsurou-kun?"

He honest to god jumps, three inches off the ground and heart almost outta his throat. The watermelon in his hands literally shoots into the air and he scrambles to catch it. It's embarrassingly hard for him to catch it again. Volleyball player, who?

(Distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears a snort and a 'just like a cat!')

"Oh my, I didn't mean to scare you that bad!" Patting him heavy on the arm, it's the store clerk lady, portly and friendly. He did not realize he already made it to the counter. Jesus, he needs to clear his head. She seems more amused than worried about his whole struggle. "You feelin' alright?"

"Ah, yeah, don't worry about it, I'm just," he lets his eye wander, absently trying to fish for the right word, "out of it. The heat's getting to me, I think." Is he dehydrated? Aw, fuck. He's probably dehydrated, edging on delirious. Isn't this exactly why there's warning about going outside.

Humming, she says, "Go grab a water bottle, Tetsurou-kun, it's on me." It's the Adult Voice that leaves No Room for Refusal. Dutifully he grabs a water bottle from the freezer. She gives him a Stare until he realizes he should actually drink it in front of her. "I haven't see you here without Koutarou-kun in ages," the lady in the lieu of conversation, idly. Unknowingly, Kuroo locks up at the joints.

"Yeah," he says almost mechanically. Grins to loosen up. "It's strange to be here without Bo. Didn't want to bother him just to come with me to get just watermelon, y'know?" The last time he saw Bokuto was maybe a week ago. It's been very, very quiet without him.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have minded! That dear's too nice for his own good," waving her hand dismissively, she scans the lone watermelon he puts onto the counter.

He really is, Kuroo thinks absently. It's exactly why he didn't ask.

"The heat's always a little bit more tolerable when there's someone else with you," she continues, strangely profound, right over his absentmindedness. It makes him think of the walk he's got ahead of him to get home. Jarringly long, though it's barely that far away. Last time he walked back from here to his house was with Bokuto. They stopped at every place they passed, exhausted, but it was bearable. Fun, even.

"It is," he agrees. He looks outside while she bags the watermelon.

Outside, the city melts.

—

[Bokuto 3:56 P.M.] m guessin no beach this week either ?

[Kuroo 4:01 P.M.] don't think so : ( temps just hit highest ever recorded for tokyo jfc

[Bokuto 4:01 P.M.] WHAT didnt think it could even GET hotter here what !!

[Kuroo 4:01 P.M.] the beach might be boilin dude will there even be a beach left for us to go to....

[Bokuto 4:02 P.M.] DONT JINX IT!!!!!

—

"...despite the cold front that was meant to come, the temperatures are still astronomical. Tokyo is currently under Japan's hottest heatwave in all its history," drones the weatherman, who's looking at the broadcasted with a masked dread. "Everyone, stay inside until this heatwave passes. If you have to be outside, wear loose clothes and stay as hydrated as possible. Avoid staying outside for too long, especially if you are eldery—"

Kuroo peels his shirt off his back, uncomfortably damp with sweat. The weatherman isn't saying it, but it's clear as day on screen— the cold front didn't redirect, or gradually vanish. The blue lines are sweeping over Tokyo. The cold front is here.

Yet the temperatures haven't dropped. They haven't touched 30 degrees in weeks. Just in the past few days it's finally passed 40s and it's stillincreasing. At some point they might as well call a state of emergency for the city of Tokyo, if not the entire prefecture. There's never been a heatwave like this before.

Scrunching his nose, Kuroo gazes towards his open window. The sky is a pristine blue, completely cloudless. The sun leers in the sky just beyond the window frame, like an angry eye.

If it's only going to get hotter, he thinks fleetingly, then this could technically be called the cold front.

The thought feels like a resignation. Not groundbreaking, earth-shattering. He slumps back, head hitting the edge of the couch. Every scheduled event in Tokyo has already been postponed or cancelled altogether for the overhanging threat of heat exhaustion and heat stroke. He's got the itching feeling that public transports going to roll to a stop, and, eventually, everything else. How can you even stop a city like Tokyo?

If it gets hotter, what can they even do? Leave? Will everyone in Tokyo be evacuated, relocated?

The image makes his chest churn. He reaches for the remote and changes the channel.

—

Days pass. The temperature increases by three more degrees. It's catastrophic.

So, faced with an indiscernible future and nothing to do, he does what he does best.

He goes to Kenma's.

"Cars are overheating the second they turn on and it's practically dangerous to walk around, even to public transport, which just are functionally giant ovens now. What the hell are we meant to do?" Kuroo drawls, knocking his head against the bed frame, fanning himself with a roll of magazines as a substitute for a paper fan. The walk here didn't last longer than two minutes, but its under direct sun. The back of his neck feels like it's fried. He's gotten smarter about it, though, and brought an obscene amount of water for the walk. The bottle sits half empty next to his thigh.

Kenma looks... miserably resigned, maybe, like this is inevitable. His hair is permanently stringy from sweat, pulled back into the worlds shittiest and smallest pony tail to keep it from hanging in front of his face. A wet rag is draped around his neck, too— he minutely pats the sides of his face with it. Out of everything, the heat has yet to pry his console from his fingers.

"Melt." After a couple of powerful button punches, he glances to him. "If it becomes a national emergency maybe they'll send helicopters." He looks up in thought though his thumbs still fly across the console. "Helicopters can overheat, right?"

"Definitely." Once his arm grows tired, Kuroo lays the magazines over his face. The coated paper is slightly cool. Truthfully, it takes every ounce of his dignity to keep from smushing it into his face right now. "I'm a little insulted it's not a national emergency yet. Do people need to start dropping like flies for the government to consider doing anything?"

"Trick question. The situation needs to be unsalvageable before those in power takes notice. So. Maybe after a few hundred die and the city's on fire. Or until it wrecks some important business man's company."

Kuroo's eyebrows raise. Lolls his head back until he's looking at him upside down from beneath the magazines. "Heavy stuff, Kozume."

A victorious 8-bit jingle erupts from the switch in Kenma's hands. His eyes are sharp when he glances from over the top of it. "Lev may have been right for once, honestly— don't tell him I said that. I'll know if you do. But we could possibly be in this mess all because some rich man was thinking about how to increase production in some unethical way. We could feasibly be in a miniature greenhouse-dome if some factories let out some kind of advanced pollution all for the gains of a single man."

"I don't think there's a kind of pollution out there that can do something like that, especially to this magnitude— and to be so undetected prior? It just can't happen," Kuroo points out, motioning with the magazines, "and if anything, I don't think something that corrupt would happen here first. I'd maybe believe it if it first showed up in America."

"Doesn't matter where, the rich are to never be trusted."

"I'm going to pester you about this conservation if you become wealthy."

"If I become wealthy enough to actually have an impact on the carbon footprint, I'd want you to snipe me."

"Kenma!" Kuroo smacks his leg, scandalized. "Are you just moody because of the weather?"

Blatantly he is ignored. "Either way, you're right. This whole situation should be impossible. Even climate change couldn't just do this. There would've been some obvious kind of... sign, maybe."

"Even with a sign, it doesn't make sense that its thirty degrees in Chiba, yet it's almost fifty here." Begrudgingly, he pulls himself upright, tossing the magazines to the side. "It's only Tokyo! Just us! If it's not climate change, then what else could it be?"

Kenma shrugs, half invested. "Maybe this is how we're repenting."

Kuroo sneers. "Like this is happening because of some god? Of course you would think that, you've only been playing Fire Emblem recently..."

Raising an eyebrow, Kenma very pointedly does not look at him, focused on the game. Which is Fire Emblem. Go figure. "Well? Do you have a better explanation? Even Fukunaga said it's supernatural. That makes more sense than a selective global warming."

He slumps against the bed frame again, feeling a crick grow in his lower spine. The supernatural. He'd like to call bullshit, but at this point, what else would make sense? But— what would it be? He's not exactly religious, so he sure as hell doesn't know what kind of Shinto god has capabilities like this. Maybe some street-side shrine's god? Maybe not even that... Maybe something with its already established god-like statue?

A statue...

A snort bubbles in his throat. He has to stamp it down before he can start full-out cackling, but it still trickles out when he speaks. "Tammy would do it, that bastard— the amusement park's mascot statue. I told you about that thing, right? Suspicious as hell. If supernatural were real, that would have its own conscious."

He doesn't need to look to know that Kenma's face is twisting up in a scowl. "Tammy Tanuki. You think Tammy Tanuki would smite all of Tokyo."

"Y'know what, it's possible!" Kuroo sits up straight again, pressing his hands on his lower back to pop it. "Bo 'n I did throw coins at it! Ain't that disrespectful? Hah, imagine that! A silly amusement park statue saying fuck you to all of us because Bo landed a sick trick on it." He grins, recalling the catch of breath, holding, watching as that final coin soared through the air. That video he took was incredible, too. Two hooligans screeching, the video inconceivably blurry as they celebrated. It's almost like those bottle-flipping videos, but cooler! He should posted that to some other social media rather than just his instagram.

He wonders how Bokuto's fairing. Is he still taking care of Petunia, even in this sweltering heat? Is he putting enough sunscreen on if he does go outside?

It's... been a while since he's seen him.

A toe jabs right into the soft part of his neck abruptly. "I did not let you come over so you could mope and pine."

Jolting, Kuroo twists around, batting at Kenma's foot. "What? I am not pining. Or moping. Where the hell did you get that from?"

Kenma glances at him for a long moment,. "You're denying it."

"Of course I would, because I'm not?" "Then why would you bring up the amusement park? Sounds like pining to me."

Appalled, Kuroo sputters, "Pining for Tammy Tanuki? That thing appears in my dreams sometimes to haunt me, I'd be insane to pine for it. I literally just called it a bastard, too! Is your brain turning to mush?"

The look Kenma gives him makes him look like he's aged fifteen years in two seconds. It's the bone-deep-exasperation look he usually has around Lev, so, to say the least, he's a little hurt it's being used on him. "Kuro," he says, not even trying to school his expression into something more neutral, the asshole, "sometimes, I realize how much of a miracle it is you're academically smart, 'cause you're not smart otherwise."

"What?! Kenma—"

"Are you purposely being stupid?" Kenma sets down his switch in a way that's both gentle and irritated. From the quick glimpse, the screen's off. Instinctively Kuroo tenses. "I saw that wistful look on your face. You weren't thinking about the damn tanuki statue. You were thinking about Bokuto, weren't you?"

It sounds like an accusation. It sits heavily in the base of his gut. "I was, but why—?"

"Do I really need to spell it out?"

Kuroo's mouth is drier than it has been all week, all month. He tries to grin, tries to have some semblance of control, but its wobbly. "You might need to, because I'm not catching your drift."

Something glances across Kenma's face, but it's gone as soon as it shows. "You're pining over Bokuto, Kuro. Why else would you think about the amusement park? Don't give me the bullshit that it's Tammy Tanuki."

His heart misses a couple of beats.

"I— actually was thinking about Tammy first, though—?" he scrambles, because he's lost all purchase, Kenma's swiping out from beneath his feet—

"I don't care about that," Kenma scowls, "Even if you were, you still are pining over Bokuto. You literally just sat here, in my room, talking about Bokuto looking like a nut job in public, with some kind of lovestruck grin on your face. The audacity."

Kuroo's reeling. Mentally, physically, spiritually— he feels like he just got hit by a truck six times over. One second, he's thinking about how, hah-hah, maybe it's that stupid tanuki statue that caused a miniature global warming that scales the Tokyo prefecture, how funny would that be, and then, he's being told he's— he's in love? How the hell is he meant to recover from this? What the fuck? What the fuck?

A look settles on Kenma's face, some kind of expression that feels too soft. The turmoil is probably visible on his own. "We're going to melt to death eventually, you gotta say something."

"There's nothing to say!" Distraught, Kuroo turns away. His neck is more than just hot. He's burning. It makes sense. Does it? Is he in love with— Shit, it's, he's burning up hotter than it is outside, he's going to actually fucking scorch—

Chest tight, he tries focusing on outside because he's going to combust if he thinks of anything else. Blue sky, cloudless, shriveling trees, heat rising from the pavement—

Flashing in his head, the sun shining through the dotted clouds in the sky, coins glittering as they streaked through the air, striking like a gong, boisterous laughter—

Even if it may have possibly been that single moment that caused all of this, he wouldn't trade it for the world. Even if he angered some silly statue, chain-reaction causing a heatwave so violent there may be no recovery, he wouldn't.

The cicadas drone outside, so, so loud. He can feel the heat seeping in from outside, rolling in like a heavy wave from the windows. It trickles up his back, like sweat running backwards, and he. He.

He...

He stands abruptly, startling Kenma. For a moment he just stands and stares at nothing, thoughts lethargic but churning, churning in his head and oh my god.

"Kuro?" Kenma says somewhere, distantly, though he's just inches away. It feels like fuzz in his ears. Gauze. Cotton.

"I," Kuroo breathes, stumbling, "I, uhm. I have to... go." He turns, almost lurching, towards the door. He can't believe it. He can't believe it.

He's not thinking straight in the slightest, he realizes, as he slips his shoes on with a single shove. He's had his whole way of thinking just torn apart and reconstructed in the last two minutes, and, and what the hell is he doing. Plowing past the door, he staggers, it's like stepping into a brick wall of hot. It only stills him for a moment, but he keeps going, he may just disintegrate if he stops. There's clatter behind him and he thinks it's Kenma— if he can even move fast enough— and he makes it to the end of the yard before something nails him in the spine.

"Fuck—!" Kuroo shrieks, hands flying to his back. The point of impact on his back is strangely chilly, and he turns to see a cold water bottle sitting idly on the pavement.

"Are you an idiot?" Kuroo jerks, looking up, and there's Kenma at the doorway of his house, looking more frazzled than he has in hours— no, days. Even the agitation of the prior conversation holds no candle to the expression Kenma's got on his face now. Hand braced against the door frame, he looks like he's physically repulsed from stepping outside, but one step from lurching out and tearing Kuroo's head off his shoulders. Completely sapped of energy, too, just from the movement. "Huh? Did your brain melt out of your ears? Did it?"

Personally, he thinks this kind of assault is uncalled for. He's already been attacked not even minutes ago, come on. Sputtering, Kuroo bends to snatch the bottle from the ground. The condensation from the bottle evaporates almost immediately from the pavement. "Hey—"

"I don't know what you just thought of that was sooo urgent," Kenma bites, knuckles growing white as his agitation rises, "but did you really think you could last even a minute out here without water? Without an umbrella? Huh? We just talked about cars overheating, what the hell makes you think you can just sprint out here!"

He freezes. The heat weighs down on him, horribly overwhelming. He can feel his skin sizzling under the sun. Thinks he can hear it, too. "I..."

What the hell is he doing? Running from Kenma and his horrible confrontations? Running to Tammy Tanuki, maybe, to reconcile, beg forgiveness, please-return-the-temperatures-to-normal?

Running to Bokuto?

Kenma doesn't even give him the chance to gather his thoughts. "I don't care, it's hot." He reaches somewhere behind the door, grabbing for something— and Kuroo only has the briefest moment to catch the umbrella that's lobbed at him. Kenma points threateningly, "Whatever it is, get on with it, but be safe, you idiot, go get more water. Tell me about it later. Get out of the sun. Go before that water bottle becomes lukewarm."

Kuroo's mouth snaps shut. He nods, because that's all he can do, and turns heel and goes.

—

"How willing are you to do something that's dubiously illegal with me?" Kuroo blurts, words falling out of his mouth as he clutches himself upright on the door frame. Seconds pass and he's very, very hypersensitive of every single drop of sweat on him currently, rolling and dripping straight off him and onto the welcome mat below.

All Bokuto can really do is gape. His hair's loose of gel yet pinned back by a bright yellow clip, though stubborn strands still hang against his forehead. It looks unbelievably soft. The sleeveless shirt he's got on settles awkwardly along his neck, like he's been pulling at it to air it out, absolutely drenched in sweat. There's a spot of blue near the corner of his mouth that he can only assume is from an ice pop he may have had a while ago.

God. Even like this he is an absolute sight for sore eyes. It's been how long since he's last seen him? Two weeks? Three? Even with the recent revelations, he's. He's just glad to see him again.

Bokuto's mouth opens and closes three separate times before he settles on: "Can I even ask what dubious means?"

"I'm sure you get the context clues," Kuroo says, not quite snappish. Is he meant to repeat himself in this situation? Bokuto heard him loud and clear, yet, yet he's not saying anything. He fiddles with the umbrella nervously, unsure of how to keep going. It's unintentional, but his absent motions drags Bokuto's attention to it.

Bokuto glances past him, to where the heat rising from the pavement is visible, the browning foliage, and then back, a distraught look twisting on his face. "Jesus, Tetsu, did you— did you walk in this? How in the hell—"

"I've got an idea," he cuts off, leaning in as if it's a secret, "I think I know it! What started all of this shit— the catalyst."

"The huh?" Bokuto echoes, looking more and more confused with each passing second. The furrow in his eyebrow disturbs the sweat resting upon his forehead and slide down his temples. He's looking at Kuroo like he's lost his mind. Well— who wouldn't?

This. This is really not how Kuroo had hoped this would go. He's not exactly sure how this was gonna go, but this— this is not it.

"It was Tammy Tanuki," he plows on before he can lose face. Runs a hand through his bangs to slick them back but they just flop back over his forehead in a gross greasy mass. The empty water bottle in his hand crinkles with the motion. "We— It— Whenever we went to the park, I think it was throwing the coins at the statue. This all started after that day, didn't it? Right? The heatwave?"

Bokuto just looks completely lost at what to even think. "The heatwave? Tammy caused the heatwave?"

"Well— no, not—" he stumbles on his words, choking in his chest, "Christ, I dunno. Maybe? Remember— remember what I said about the coins, and if you landed them in a place they weren't meant to be, it'd piss Tammy off? I was totally bullshitting you, but, but I dunno, it— it's possible. With how fucked up this whole situation is, Tammy being behind all of it honestly could make some kinda sense. So maybe, if we were to, I dunno, get the coin off from Tammy's nose, then maybe? We'd be forgiven? If it's Tammy at all causing this heatwave..."

Once the words finish spilling from his mouth, he has to bite down on his lip to keep from rambling and sounding more like an idiot than he already is. Kuroo swallows thickly, running the back of his wrist under his chin.

God. This is all so fucking ridiculous, but— but this is all he's got. It's silly to think all of this rests on the shoulders of two stupid teenage boys who were just goofing off but. But...

Bokuto scrunches his nose, narrows his eyes. "I knew Tammy was fuckin' suspicious."

Kuroo, if he were a little more exhausted than he already is, could have cried right here and right now. Instead he just folds over and lets out probably the loudest laugh of his life.

—

"This is very illegal." Bokuto's voice almost wavers as he watches Kuroo vault over the fence. He isn't super successful, slick with an ungodly amount of sunscreen, doesn't land very gracefully, but hey, he's over.

"Dubiously illegal," Kuroo corrects, curses, flapping his hand from the sting of the hot metal. Any longer, and his skin might've been seared right off. The sun, hanging above their heads, is fucking vile. He can feel the heat rising from the pavement and it's scorching his damn legs. Doesn't help that the two of them just walked an abysmal distance in this goddamn heat, stopping every five minutes to rest and refresh and AUGH, his legs are already tired—

"I still don't know what that means," he whines, fidgeting. "Akaashi would kill both of us if he knew we were doing this. Without a doubt. I think I can hear him on his way over to come knock our heads off."

"All the more reason we should just hurry in," Kuroo reaches over the fence, motioning for the umbrella. "He wouldn't break in just to scold us, right? So if we're in, he wouldn't be able to kill us just yet."

"Yeah, but..." he passes the umbrella and grabs hold of the bars, wincing. While his climb over is awkwardly clunky, he does manage to land on his feet unlike Kuroo who nearly landed on his face. Once he lets go of the bars, he lets out a howl of pain, planting his hands on his thighs, then grumbles again when his hands burn the skin. "It's the yet! 'Kaashi would be waiting for us by the time we get out! We'll be trapped in here until the actual police come and get us! He might spare me, but I think he might actually beat you up, Tetsu."

"What! Why me?" He slips to Bokuto's side, putting both of them shoulder to shoulder to stay in the umbrella's shade. He's painfully aware Akaashi thinks he's a pain-in-the-ass, but damn, to actually be clobbered? Akaashi doesn't exactly look the beefiest, not like Bokuto, but regardless he's still an athlete. If he's unhinged, Kuroo's life might actually be in danger.

Bokuto doesn't really meet his eye when he shrugs. Weirdly enough, he gets the idea.

"I mean, you did just drag me along to commit a crime..."

"It's not a crime if no one finds out!"

With almost too much force, Bokuto nudges him with his shoulder, bubbling with laughter. Kuroo tries to save face but totally ends up stumbling almost completely face first onto the pavement. "Man, you're meant to be the more reasonable out of the two of us! How am I meant to argue with that?"

He's missed it. God, he's missed it.

Belatedly, he realizes just how quiet it is out here when Bokuto's impossibly loud laugh echoes through the park. He hears the tail end of it once, twice, then it's gone, and the dead silence of the air takes its place.

It's very strange to walk through the park when it's completely empty. There's no hum of rollercoasters, no jeers of children, no peppy tinny background music blaring over the speakers. Even stranger, their conversation tapered off almost immediately, and Kuroo's not sure if it's because it's too hot to talk, or there's a reason his hearts fluttering somewhere in his throat.

The path to the pond is not long. Now cleared of the usual human traffic and their brisk pace (the pavement's hot as hell, shit), they stand at the fence to the pond in minutes flat. The pond's half full— no, not even— probably a quarter full, most of its evaporated out by this point. The special theatrical arcs of water are no longer running, though the gleaming of coins beneath the statue light it up in its own kind of horrible theatrics.

Tammy looks strangely lonely out in the middle of the pond. Maybe, also, like a caged beast.

Peering from the corner of his eye, he sees Bokuto's just staring out to Tammy. There's a challenging look in his eye and it starkly reminds him of the first time they stood here, armed with coins and the air twenty degrees cooler. He bites his tongue.

"Well," he starts, inhaling deeply.

"All we gotta do is just find those coins, right?" Bokuto says clearly like it's nearly the easiest thing in the world, the single answer to all the problems. He grins to Kuroo, and honestly, maybe he's right. Anything is possible, especially with this kind of attitude, especially with Bokuto by his side. "No need to waste time standing around!" he hollers, his voice echoing, echoing. Without any warning, he swings his leg over the short fence, and begins his descent.

Blistering hot. It's abysmal. Jesus fuck, how the hell is the water not boiling yet. Kuroo breathes in deeply, steels his nerves. Even with his shoes still on— the dark polyester of the pond bottom looks like it will sear his foot right off— nothing will be able to sooth this scalding. He's glad the water only reaches his calfs. Any higher and he may just wimp out.

Water had seemed so kind, a sanction in this hell, he almost dreamed about wading in it— but this is horrible.

Splash.

"Holy fuck!"

Kuroo turns— Bokuto's hopping foot to foot, wincing 'hot! hot!' with every step. Probably seconds away from lunging back out of the water. "How the hell are you not— not dying?" Bokuto cries, eyes squished tight as he rises an inch, on his tippy toes.

"It's the perk of already being hot," Kuroo winks, and grimaces. "That was awful. Sorry. I am trying really hard not to yell right now. It's not all that different from a jacuzzi, right? Just. A couple degrees hotter."

"Tetsu," Bokuto says warily, frowning as he trudges behind, umbrella up and opened in his hand, "Are— Are you sure about this? Man, I can't tell your mom that I willingly let you roast like a turkey in a big ole pond—"

"You're roasting with me, how would you even tell my mom?" He retorts automatically. Then, momentarily, he bites his tongue, hesitating.

He's... He's really just dragging Bokuto out here, isn't he? Making him walk with him in near catastrophic temperatures, where plants have shriveled and traffic cones have melted— All under the pretense of 'just trust me'? If Bokuto had shown up at his house, telling him to come cross the city in this sweltering heat, he—

...what would he have done?

"You... don't have to do this with me," he says belatedly as he slows to a stop. The words sit awkward in his tongue, regretful, "I know this kinda sucks— er, really sucks— so you... don't have to."

Bokuto blinks at him owlishly, pausing. Fear builds up in his throat, and momentarily, he thinks Bokuto might actually take the offer and leave. He's been talking about how dangerous it is to be out here, how risky it is. Of course he doesn't want to be here. What the hell was he thinking? Kuroo would honestly not be surprised if he left at this point.

He's not sure he'd be able to convince himself to stay out here without Bokuto by his side.

"Well!" he puffs up, finally reaching Kuroo and covering him in the red-tinted shade of the umbrella, "I can't let you roast out here alone! Plus, if what you're sayin' is right, it is kinda also my fault that this whole heatwave shit happened. So I'm here!"

In the red coloring cast, the pink of Bokuto's sun burn almost looks like blush.

Kuroo doesn't get a chance to stare longer when Bokuto swivels to look at him, somehow beaming in this temperature. "Besides, who else would hold up the umbrella?"

Groaning, Kuroo shoves him but he's grinning, grinning so wide. His stomach's all warm and he knows it's not just the weather causing it. "Letting me do all the grunt work, huh! I see what's going on!"

"I mean, you did say that you're resilient to heat because you're already hot!" he counters, cheeky. Kuroo gasps.

"I can't believe you! Using my own words against me—! Where the hell did you learn the word resilient?"

He glitters. "I knew that one myself!"

Once again, the imposing figure of Tammy Tanuki towers over them. Looming more and more as they approach. Christ, it's bigger up close than he thought. Tammy's just eerie now, with the lack of theatrics and children's laughter in the distance, with hard shadows casted across its face from the sun's harsh angle.

The two of them are so tiny compared to it, it's almost like two unbelievers standing before an angry god. Once that image crosses Kuroo's mind, he really has to bite down to keep from snorting.

The umbrella tips back, too far back, and the unyielding sun nearly blinds him. "Bo, man, what—" he sputters, throwing his hands up to at least save his eyes.

"It's not there!" Bokuto blurts, boggled. He quickly readjusts the umbrella, but his eyes don't stray from the tanuki's face. Kuroo follows, perplexed, and—

The coin's no longer balanced on the stubby nose.

It feels like a joke. He waits and waits but the coin does not reappear, does not come out of hiding. He quickly skims the entire structure for— for anywhere it could've landed, if it was knocked off by the wind or something, but there's nothing except the water below.

Kuroo clicks his tongue, stomach plummeting. "Well. Shit. That just made things harder."

"I... I can't believe it..." mourning, Bokuto trudges closer to the statue, stopping right where it starts becoming a mine-field of scorching hot coins. His eyes don't leave the tanuki's nose once, like he's desperately watching, waiting for it to reappear. "My... my sick trick... my trick shot... gone..."

For a painstakingly long moment, Kuroo feels like it's all in vain. It takes an even longer moment to even think of something positive about this situation. Something that isn't... well. Making this a waste of time. "Well," Kuroo starts, trickling, coming up with it as he goes. Slaps a hand on Bokuto's shoulder blade to perk him up, maybe. "I was worried that one of us was gonna have to climb Tammy. That woulda caused more damage than breaking in. Just another charge to add on if we're caught. It's gotta be around the statue somewhere."

Unbelieving, Bokuto motions to the coins scattered around the statue. "But— there's a billion coins over here! There's no way we'll find the one you gave me!"

His feet already ache just thinking about how long he's gonna be standing in this water, ankles scalding from boiling water. Who in their right minds started the whole tradition of throwing coins in ponds for good luck? He's going to throttle whoever it was. Asshole. "Ain't no one else gonna be throwing a five-hundred yen into here but us. And even if there are others five-hundreds, then ours would be the one closest to the statue, right? Since it was probably knocked off by the wind?"

Bokuto halts so suddenly Kuroo thinks he can hear the whiplash. "You gave me a five-hundred yen to throw?" Suddenly Bokuto's wide, earnest eyes are pinned on him. It's a bit much. He leans towards Kuroo, pressing, peering at him even when he turns away. "You— Did you believe I could make it that much? You betted that much on me?"

"I didn't have any other change!" he flushes, "I mean, I knew if you had an unlimited amount of coins you would've made it at some point, and I thought what the hell—" He lengthens his stride, ducking from beneath the umbrella, just so Bokuto won't see how embarrassingly pink his face just got. However, his friend's an absolute hardhead, dearly stubborn, and easily matches his pace.

"Tetsuuu," he coos, nearly too gleeful with the information he's just obtained. "You did have faith in me! I can't believe it— you said I wouldn't make it, but all along—!!"

"Who's Bokuto Koutarou? I don't know who that is," Kuroo says loudly, mockingly, crouching down and quickly darting his hands in the water to scoop up coins. Fucking Owch— like he thought, the coins are scorching hot, even worse with the water. They clink almost musically as he rifles through them quickly. None of the coins show the arcade's logo, none of them that dull brass. Grimacing, he puts them aside, plop plop plop into the water.

He knew, but this... This is going to take forever.

There's a shuffle beside him, and to his surprise Bokuto crouches down too, arm brushing against his shoulder. He dips his hand into the water and takes his pick, though he immediately drops them out of his palm whenever they start searing into it, wincing.

Kuroo pauses to raise an eyebrow. "I thought you were the designated umbrella-holder?"

Cheeks puff up in a pout, Bokuto tries again. "It's boring just standing here. I can't let you do all the work, y'know. I've got to find that five-hundred yen and treasure it, it's the symbol of your faith in me—"

"Oh god, no more," Kuroo whines, knocking his elbow into Bokuto's side. Somehow, Bokuto's unbalanced enough that the nudge is enough to nearly teeter him into the water, so he quickly latches onto Kuroo before he can truly eat shit.

"Bro, be merciful! I think I'll instantly boil if I fall in," he cries. His grip is tight on Kuroo's forearm, fingers digging into pink skin, burning slightly with the hot water.

"Not my fault you're all wobbly," Kuroo grins, though it's uneven itself, crooked and goopy. He's not sure if he's imagining it, not sure, but he swears Bokuto's hand lingers longer than it should, grip firm yet softening. He's looking too deeply into it. Fuck, Kenma put all of this shit into his head, 'liking' Bokuto, and it's, it's— it's making him more skittish, more jumpy. He's gonna see things that aren't there, now that his world's rearranged and slotted back into place. It's embarrassing, they're really close to each other, Bokuto's shoulder occasionally brushing his, his ears bright pink, his stupid, stupid—

God, he might love him.

He turns back to the coins, gently pulling his arm from Bokuto's hand. Like a fucking coward, he does not look back.

And, after a brief moment, though it seems much longer with how double-timed Kuroo's heart is beating, Bokuto resumes the motions as well.

It's hot. Even with the umbrella, even with the sunscreen, he feels like he's fucking melting, standing in this stupid pool of water, crouching, shuffling through hundreds of steaming hot coins in steaming hot water, looking for some silly arcade coins, for the silly five-hundred yen.

The sun now peeks between the trees along the skyline, which is the only way to tell they've been at this for more hours than necessary. Now that the sun isn't directly overhead, no longer boiling the water and scorching the skin, they've reduced to kneeling and the umbrella idles in the water, abandoned. The air, however, is still stagnant with heat. Fucking humidity. His shirt is soaking wet and he has barely even touched the water's surface with it.

Maybe it's been two hours, or four. He's got no goddamn clue. All he knows is that they've got seven of the nine arcade coins and no five-hundred yen. If it's been two hours, then that's at least three coins an hour average. So another hour, and hopefully, probably, he'd have them all. But if it's been four...

My brain's too mushed to think about this, he relents, rocking back on his heels to press his palms into his eyes. It's going to melt out of my ears. It's not even that hot anymore.

He presses his thumbs in harder until colors flicker across his vision. Who am I kidding. It's still hot. It's never not gonna be hot.

Behind him, there's the telltale plops of coins into the water. A dejected sigh. Kuroo's stomach folds in on itself, so he sticks his hand back into the water to distract himself.

They've been working in a silent tandem this whole, which is so unlike them it pulls at Kuroo's stomach. Not a peep from either one of them. No jests, no snickers, no roughhousing. At this point, he's not going to lose it because he's been sifting through hundreds of coins for hours on end, but from how much the silence is killing him.

He just— hopes things will turn back to how they were before, even if they manage to get all of the coins or not.

"Hey, Tetsu," Bokuto says absently, swirling his hand in the water rather than picking up more. Full-bodied, Kuroo jumps, but quickly tries to compose himself though his shoulders remain tense. He hums, not trusting his voice— it will warble, he knows. His fingers are pruny and no longer sting from the hot metal of the coins.

"Tetsu," Bokuto repeats. Finally he looks up, his eyes are trained to the water, glassy. The coins reflect the dying sunlight onto his face, the lights dancing with the water's movement. Kuroo's never seen him this still before.

"Hm?" he barely manages, the noise caught in his throat. If it didn't feel so off, he'd bask in this image of Bokuto, soft edges even rounder, a polite orange coloring his cheekbones.

The brief pause echoes a lot louder than it should, with the lack of, well... everything, around them. Bokuto takes in a breath. It's the most defeated sound he's ever heard come from him.

"We should probably just... go back."

Kuroo straightens up from his stooped crouch. Unexpected, is what he'd like to call it, but he's had the inkling sitting low in his chest this whole time. "Wh— We've nearly gotten all the arcade coins, and the yen's gotta be here somewhere!" When he presents his hand, where he's had the coins clutched, the arcade symbol's in red impressions on his palm. He sounds desperate. Fuck, he doesn't want to, but he is.

It's just— if they leave, he feels like it'll all be over.

"I mean—" ahh, he didn't notice— he didn't realize how aggravated Bokuto is about the prospect of giving up. Didn't catch the growing frustration in his movements. "It's just... we've cleared most of the pond already, and it's been a while since either of us found one, and I know I was just kidding about it earlier, but I think your mom's actually gonna call the police if we're here longer."

He wants to protest it, but honestly, who's he fooling? The yen was already gone from Tammy's nose. His whole theory was riding on the fact that it was resting up there. But it's gone. Not even there. And if it that was the whole catalyst, then what the hell are they doing out here?

Kuroo breathes in shallowly. Once, twice. Gathers his will. "Alright," he says, standing. Disrupting the stillness around him, the swish of water from his movement is jarringly loud— he didn't think he stood up that abruptly, but huh, maybe he did. Jesus, he needs to get himself under control."Okay. Yeah. We... We should go."

There's a complete lack of motion from Bokuto.

To keep from losing composure, Kuroo moves to retrieve the umbrella instead, which has idly drifted away. He reaches for the handle only to realize he's still got all seven coins clenched in his hand still. Still. Even subconsciously, he's still hoping. He breathes in deeply— in and in until he can't keep going— exhales.

He lets go of the coins unceremoniously. No need for them, really.

Just as the coins splish into the water, there's a strangled noise from behind him.

"Dude, you—!" blurting, Bokuto leaps to his feet. In a splash that soaks most of Kuroo, he dives straight into the water. Frantically he regathers all the coins Kuroo just dumped, breathing a sigh of relief when they're all in his palm.

Jarred, Kuroo just watches, startled into stillness. The water's lukewarm from where it clings onto his skin. "What are you—?"

As if they're precious to him, Bokuto pulls his hands closer to his chest, cupping the coins like they're delicate. "I mean— I meant!" Choked up. That's the only way he can describe the floundering Bokuto's doing, the thickness of his voice. "I didn't— actually mean give up. I meant for today! It's almost dark and I think we'll become prunes if we stay out here longer, so, we can just— come back tomorrow!"

He's never been this stupefied before, he thinks. Never been this bewildered, this boggled, this what-ever-synonyms-for-shocked-there-is. "Come back tomorrow?" he echoes dumbly, "W— Why? There's no reason to?"

"No reason too—?" Bokuto parrots, squawking, appalled. He sinks lower until he's just sitting in the water, growing more confused. "Dude, we didn't even get all of them yet! We have to get them all, don't we?"

"It's not even worth it to get them all." Admitting it out loud— he can't tell if it's a relief or not. It's a resignation, and it's pulling at his guts.

The furrow between Bokuto's eyebrows deepens and deepens.

"Everything I had was literally depending on the coin being there, though," Kuroo stresses, continuing, motioning abortedly towards the statue, "I— I thought Tammy was so pissed that you got the coin there, so once it was off, Tammy wouldn't have reason to cause a catastrophic heatwave! But it's gone, there's still a heat wave, and we've been sitting out here for hours for no reason."

"It's not just for no reason, Tetsu," Bokuto tries, but something's building in Kuroo's chest, clawing higher and higher until its in the top of his throat.

"It was," he croaks, shaking his head, "It was— ridiculous, I can't even believe—" He leans back, back, face tilted up towards the fading sky. "I went out a limb more than anything. Can you believe? I pulled this theory out of my ass since Kenma n' I were talkin' about this whole thing, and I used it as..." He swallows, swallows again, but there's nothing getting past the thickness in his throat. "... as a excuse to see ya."

Bokuto's dead silent in this moment. So still he might not be breathing.

"I'm," Kuroo pauses, almost wheezing, unsure, because Bokuto's not responding, he's not responding, how is he meant to take that? "I'm sorry I, I dragged you out here to roast with me, all for some, some stupid reason. I just. I panicked and..."

Condescendingly, Kenma's voice echoes in his head, 'We're going to melt to death eventually, you gotta say something.' Fuckin' Kenma. He wasn't ready to jump this hurdle yet. He wasn't ever gonna be ready. The words rest on the back of his tongue, refusing to come out or go back down, and he feels like he's gonna puke.

"Tetsurou," Bokuto starts after a beat. Unfaltering. "I'd go anywhere with you."

The world rocks. There's no excuse this time he could possibly come up with for how he flushes. How the hell does he sound so sure—

"I thought," his mouth forms words, but he doesn't say any of them, momentarily unsure. He's silent until he looks Kuroo straight in the eyes. "I thought I maybe fucked up somewhere— been to clingy, maybe freaked you out. 'Kaashi called me out sometimes, saying I was been too much. I dunno! I just like being around you, with you. I was really scared I scared you off."

"You'd. Never scare me off, Bo," Kuroo says, just above a whisper, because, because this sounds like something and he's very scared he might misinterpret.

Bokuto's eyes crease in a smile, dawning. "Sweet!" He says, loudly. It's loud enough it echoes, disrupts the silence that's settled over the park. He winces, sheepish. "Sweet," he tries again, quieter. "So, then, it wouldn't scare you off if I said I liked you?"

Like a blow to the face, Kuroo teeters, dropping into the water with a plop. The ripples wake against Bokuto's knees, making a small personal light show for the brightest thing in his life. "It wouldn't," he says, because christ, he's gonna melt out here. He's gonna dissolve in this water and it's gonna be so embarrassing.

Rushing out a relief breath, Bokuto eases. He didn't notice his shoulders were hitching up in tension. "Cool," he says, giddy, jumpy. "Sweet. Awesome. That's great. 'cause I like you."

Laughter bubbles out of his throat, though it's wet and gooey and he might've hiccuped by the end of it. "Don't say that so easily, you big doof," Kuroo says thickly, resting back into the water.

Unfair. Bastard. How unfair, he can say kinda stuff and not have his whole world tremor.

Pressing his hands over his face to keep from growing pinker, Kuroo breathes. Maybe he can drown before he makes more of a fool of himself.

"Wanna come over?" he suggests, muffled by his palms. His stomach's fluttering like he's asking something risky. Like he's asking for a first date. Silly. Ridiculous. They've been on plenty already, haven't they? "I've got some of your spare clothes at home. We've got ice pops, too."

From the stomach, Bokuto laughs, something chime-y and wonderful. He presses his palm against Kuroo's stomach, pushing him, and he jerks to smack at his hand. "D'ya even need to ask?" he says, doughy.

Backlit by the setting sunlight, Bokuto's probably the best thing he's ever seen in his damn life.

"I just hope Akaashi's not waiting by the park gates," he admits sheepishly when he pulls Kuroo upright. Throughout the park, Kuroo's laugh echoes, scratchy, loud, but it's the loveliest.

Behind them, Tammy Tanuki shrinks and shrinks, then disappears in the distance.

—

"Can I get a Bubbles pop? Ah, actually— two of them?"

Resting his elbows on the wood of the counter, Kuroo looks out to the ocean. The edge of the sea, dotted with the bright colors of people, blends near seamlessly with the sky.

"Here you go," the teenager says, handing him the popsicles. She's not the pink-haired one from the stand by the riverside, but she's got the same charming smile. Must be an ice-cream stand employee requirement.

Thanking her, he steps out from the awning onto piping hot sand. Unbelievably hot sand. Jesus fuck. He doesn't hop on his toes, not quite— he couldn't even salvage his dignity if he did. A mere couple minutes in the shade, and he's already lost his numbness to the heat. He wishes he brought sandals or something. His toes fucking hurt.

God. Where did his damn immunity go? He managed two weeks in a catastrophic heatwave, why the hell is hot sand his downfall?

It's, frankly, quite wild that just last week Tokyo was on the edge of becoming a giant hot pot. Literally one of the most extreme heatwaves on the planet— relative to location, of course— nearly closing down the entire city to a stillness.

And, somehow, within a two day period, the temperature in Tokyo plummeted from near fifty degrees to a helluva-lot-more-tolerable thirty. A month long disaster, cleaned up and wiped away in two days. Ridiculously unbelievable. But hey, it's whatever. It took a while for everything to get back onto its feet— train tracks were still cautiously looked after, and things that had melted had to be repaired or replaced. But everything's crawling back to normal.

And for the first time in nearly a month, he's actually willingly standing in the sunlight.

Growth.

Fuckin' Tammy Tanuki, he thinks, idly strolling back to their spot. What a rat bitch.

"Ah— Tetsurou!!"

Mid-motion he turns and proceeds to get blinded on the spot. He has to throw his hands up to block the sun, what the fuck, the motherfucker's bright, but it's awkward to try and block it with the ice pops in his hands—

A hand shoots up into the air and waves around haphazardly until it casts a shadow over his eyes, the palm blocking the sun for the most part. It momentarily helps but the fact that it keeps moving and light keeps peeping through his fingers generally makes it useless. Laughter bubbles from his throat, giddy, and Kuroo smacks Bokuto on his shoulder whenever he's close enough. "You're not helping much, bud."

Bokuto puffs his cheeks out, smushing his hand over Kuroo's eyes. "At least I tried!" His hands are grossly sweaty and gritty at the same time, a really weird feeling on his face, so Kuroo tries prying his hands off, snorting. In retaliation— just because he can— Bokuto presses both his hands on his face, squishing his nose. Then he halts very abruptly. Peeling Bokuto's hands off his face, he sees that all focus is directed to what's in his hand. "Dude, is that what I think it is?"

Cheekily, Kuroo presents the ice pops with flourish, bowing with an arm extended, holding Bokuto's long-desired Bubbles pop. "You betcha."

With how loud Bokuto's gasp is you woulda thought he'd be proposing. "B-Bro," he says, watery. He takes it with certain kind of gentleness Kuroo didn't think he had in him.

Knocking his own pop against his, Kuroo grins, "Wouldn't be a proper trip if we didn't have ice cream, right?"

Momentarily there's no response from Bokuto. An expression's on his face that's a little indiscernible— a little too heartfelt. It's very soft on his face. Feather-soft. It makes his pulse rise in this throat, just before a grin splits across Bokuto's face, dispelling the fluttering. "'Course," he says, and he steps close enough to Kuroo to where their elbows and shoulders knock while they walk.

Kuroo tries very, very hard not to go bright red in the face.

Completely ungracefully, Bokuto practically flops straight down onto his towel, disrupting just about everything and sending sand everywhere. Doesn't seem to bother him, though— he fidgets, patting Kuroo's towel with vigor. "C'mon! We gotta open them at the same time!! Tetsu!!"

"Alright, alright," he grins, exasperated, ducking beneath the umbrella and settling onto his towel. The umbrella's just barely big enough for the two of them with their broad shoulders (more like just Bokuto's broad shoulders—), so they're thigh to thigh, elbows and knees knocking together. Bokuto's jittering so much Kuroo can feel his bones vibrate.

Pinching the wrapper, Bokuto looks towards Kuroo, expression bright, eyes creasing. "On the count of three, okay?"

"One, two... three!"

In his vigor Bokuto nearly drops the entire popsicle onto his leg. Side by side, they present them. And like an off switch, Bokuto's smile plummets. With a laugh that grows and grows, Kuroo has to turn away from Bokuto to keep from totally losing it. "No way," Bokuto mutters, sounding so so confused, appalled, and it's sending Kuroo into a fit of laughter again. "They look normal?" Offended, Bokuto squints at the Bubbles pops, eyes roving over each part.

They're the most normal looking Bubbles pops he's ever seen. Didn't even think it was possible to get one that looks normal.

Honestly, it's kinda funny in how ironic it is. "I think its due— after all the misfits we got, there's finally a proper one," Kuroo says placatingly, grinning. He inspects his own— Maybe the gum ball eyes are a little off-centered, but honestly, she's not a monstrosity.

"I want a refund," Bokuto grumbles. Kuroo throws his head back and howls in laughter.

"I knew it, you only want them for the funny-factor," he accuses, leaning heavily against Bokuto until he leans over too, though he's laughing too much to make it sound like a real accusation.

Bokuto looks confused that Kuroo would assume anything else. "It's one of their defining features." Grumpily he pops it in his mouth, munching with such a scowl on his face. It's probably the angriest he's ever eaten ice cream before, and the whole ordeal just Kuroo wheeze.

"Anyways—" Kuroo starts, trying to divert the conversation so that he stops looking so down, "How's the games been going?" He nods towards the net Bokuto had just been playing at. Teenagers currently are bumping the ball across the net with the ease of those who truly don't give a shit who wins or not. One does a spectacular dive to save a ball, getting a mouthful of sand. Unfortunately, the ball does not go far up into the air from their save, sadly hitting the sand with a pomf. The lost point doesn't bring them down, though— everyone's laughing at the mess of sand on the teen's face. Even the teen's laughing, too, practically spewing sand outta their mouth.

"Oh!" Almost too easily, Bokuto brightens up. Takes a huge ass bite from Bubbles's pigtail before speaking. "It sucks ass! Absolute ass! It is impossible to get a good jump! All I've got going for me is that I can still hit it over okay-ish, but it's horrible, man."

"Well, at least it's not solid wood you're diving into." Residual sand is dotted all over Bokuto's face— it would look like freckles if it wasn't so pale. Brushing his palm over Bokuto's cheeks, he really ends up just smudging the sand across on his face, but the flush that grows along his neck is well worth it.

"It's not really any kinder," Bokuto whines, "Like, sure, I'm not breaking my ribs against floorboards, but... but there's sand up my ass."

"Gross."

"SUPER gross!" Shaking the sand from his hair, which has grown willowy with the humid air, he takes another bite from his ice pop. Then he sputters so loudly people walking by glance to make sure he's not dying. "Why! It's everywhere! Everywhere!" he cries, spitting the chunk of ice to the side. When Kuroo looks closer, there's the sprinkling of sand particles all over the remnants of Bubbles.

"That one was totally on you, you doof, you just shook the sand outta your hair with your pop in your hand," Kuroo grins, not sympathetic in the slightest. However, he hands his still-completely-intact Bubbles to Bokuto, who watery blinks at it, mid scrapping the sand off his tongue. "Have mine— I can try to wipe it off of yours in the meantime."

A dopey smile crests across his face. Simply looking at it makes Kuroo flustered, unbearably to the core, so he forcibly switches the pops to look away. "D'aww, Tetsu," Bokuto coos, the affection palpable in his voice. He nudges his elbow into Kuroo's rib, obnoxious, but so fond. "Yer bein' so nice to me. D'ya got a crush on me or somethin'?"

Nonplussed, Kuroo scoops up a handful of sand and reels back, threatening. Bokuto screeches. Bodily turns away, shielding his ice cream. "You wouldn't!" he cowers.

Though having the power is very nice, he lowers his hand because he's a patron saint. "You're right, I'm too nice to ya," he sneers. Smears the sand off the pop with a spare napkin. The napkin does not get the sand off. There's sand on the napkin. Fuckin'— there's sand everywhere.

What else is he expecting? It's the damn beach. Ah. Whatever. He sticks the pop in his mouth. The sand granules scrape against his tongue, but soon enough they're just in his saliva, which he spits out to the side.

Bokuto's nose is scrunched up like he's watching the worst thing occur. His Bubbles pop is already nearly demolished. "Gross. How can you eat sand."

"Didn't," he corrects. The ice cream's sugary sweet now that the sand's out of his mouth.

"You so just did."

"Didn't you eat some earlier?" he prods, grinning a sharp cat's grin. Bokuto bristles full-bodied, embarrassed. "I saw that dive." He whistles, taunting, "Didn't even save it. A whole mouthful of sand, for nothing... Top ace of the country, who?"

Looking like he's five seconds from just leaping at him, Bokuto almost bursts. "I'd like to see you try! Which one of us will eat the most sand! I don't think you'd even be able to block me," he challenges, puffing up, very smug about it.

Kuroo snorts. "Who's the one here who can jump higher? I can block you easy-peasy."

Briefly, Bokuto's momently stilled. Like he's genuinely surprised. Then he leans, far, far into Kuroo's personal space, "You— You're actually gonna come play a round?" he asks, glimmering. The gold of his eyes glitters so brightly, a sparkling so tangible. Even if he wasn't already planning on playing a round, that charm— he'd be convinced in a second. Bokuto could probably convince him to do whatever he wants.

"'Course I will," he says, fondness pulling at his guts. What a volleyball brain. They're at the beach and they haven't even gone in the water once yet. "What else did I come here for?"

He'd go anywhere he'd ask, after all.

"Besides. Gotta show ya how to set properly, after all," smirking, Kuroo stands up briskly, striding out from their little umbrella to leave a gaping Bokuto to scramble after him a second later. In a couple of long strides, Bokuto falls in step with him, bumping their shoulders together. This time, it's his smile blinding him. He might need to wear sunglasses every time he looks at him.

"You're on!"

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #bokuro #this is my pride and joy #do not take it seriously. its a lil silly #sappy #fluff #italics didn't move over but! not feeling like adding them in rn! go to ao3 lol

[the-lad-system]

System nicknames:

Grayson: Gray, Gray-Gray, Whiskey, Wisk, Jabari, Bari

DeAndre: Dre, De, Andre, Annie

Ravenmore: Rav, Rave

Everest: Ev

Trayvon: Tre, Tre-Tre, Voney

Orian- Ryan, Ry-Ry, Rye bread

Dick (technically Richard: Popcorn boy

Jason: J, Sonny

Starr: Starr-Starr, Munch

Max(ine): Maxxy, Maximus

Darius: Dare-Bear

Chris: Christopher

Marshall: Em, M, Marshy, Marsh, Mar, Mar-Mar

TeShawn: Shawnie, T, Te-Te

Jack: Jack-Jack, Jack attack, Jackie, Jackie boy

Jeramiah: Jeremy, Jer-Bear, Miah, Jer

Luke: Lucas

Slim: Shady

Loki: Lokius

Freddie: Daddy Mercury, Fred, Freddo, Freddles

J.D.: Jason, J-J

Eric: Er-Bear, Killmonger

Avion: Avy, Vion, Vivi

Rayquon: Ray, Ray-Ray, Quony, Rake

Azurion: Azzy, Zuri

Derik: Der-Bear

Jamison: James, Jamie

Wildfire: N/A

?: N/A

[shiruke-lightheart]

Robihachi Drama CD 1: People’s taste vary

Since some people might be interested in this, I decided to try my hand at translating the first drama CD. - please note that my japanese isn’t great at all and I tried to get by with my limited knowledge and the help of multiple translation sites; so not everything might be accurately translated! - This is only the part about Yang’s team since I haven’t had the time to translate the Robby and Hatchi part yet (I’ll get to it one day!)

Gras: Ah, Haccone is moving away. I wanted to go to the hot springs! Allo: Don’t worry about that Gras. I was more shocked to see the news about the martians. Gras: But… Allo: We can always come back for the hot springs later, but we’ll never be able to meet an octopus martian again Gras: I can’t really meet them again, I’ve never met an octopus martian before… Allo: It’s been a long time dream of mine. To see the Martian cabaret on Mars and Martian octopus mommies with round cheeks who can leave kiss marks with their tentacles full of suckers. But that dream has now disappeared… (honest to God, I’m so sorry y’all had to read this sentence. I didn’t want to believe it myself but I put it through at least 6 different translation sites and Allo just really is that horny for octopus) Gras: aaah, that dream is… Allo: aah… But none of my dreams will ever come true! Gras: Hey, that’s certainly hard. At least hot springs still exist Allo: But still, even though we know there are no Martians, we’re going to Mars for Robby. If it’s for Yang-san’s sake, we’ll go everywhere even through fire or deep water! Gras: EXACTLY! Allo: No, if it’s for Yang-san’s sake we’ll even go through the bottom of the Mariana trench, climb the top of mount Fuji and even the top of Mt. Everest! Gras: eh? Mt. Fuji is a possibility, but Mt. Everest? Allo: BUT OF COURSE! Although Mt. Everest is the highest mountain in the world, Mt. Fuji is the highest mountain in Japan and it’s a volcano; it shouldn’t be too hard. Mt. Everest is just a weak mountain Gras: You’re right… *Yang enters the room* Yang: Oi, you guys. Mt. Everest’s may not have lava now, but there’s no telling what it will bring in the future Gras: That’s Yang-san for you. He has the ultimate ear! Allo: COME ON NOW GRAS! What are you talking about! Gras: I didn’t mean it in a wrong way Allo: ‘The ultimate ear’ is not a compliment! Gras: Heeeh? Is that true? Yang: Listen up. Mt. Fuji is a volcano, Mt. Everest isn’t a volcano. Remember this well. Allo & Gras: We won’t forget it! Gras: That’s … Allo & Gras: YANG-SAN FOR YOU!!! Yang: *This sentence just won’t translate well no matter what I try, but Yang is saying something about how sharp the peak of Mt. Everest is* Allo & Gras: Definitely… Yang: Long ago, even the top of Mt. Everest was on the seabed. Due to the plates of the Earth moving, they collided into each other and the earth raised where one plate moved down into the mantle Allo & Gras: heeeeeeee… Yang: It’s romantic, isn’t it? Allo: Yes! Mr. Yang Gras: It’s really romantic! Yang: But, I personally prefer Mt. Fuji over Mt. Everest… Allo: That’s Yang-san’s heart for you Yang: … Because there’s a hole in it Allo: A hole… Gras: A hole? I don’t understand but that’s amazing Yang-san! Allo: AAAAH, I don’t know what to say Yang-san (?) Yang: And; if you dig near the volcano, you get a hot spring           Listen; I’ll say it again. If you dig near the volcano, you get a hot spring Allo & Gras: A hole forms a hot spring? Yang: Romantic, isn’t it? Allo: YES Allo & Gras: Hot springs are romantic! Yang: That is why I love hot springs. So I never said that I wouldn’t stop by Haccone Allo: eh? Gras: eh? Yang: So rest assured, we’re definitely going to relax in the hot springs Allo: Yang-san… Gras: Yang- san… Allo & Gras: That’s Yang-san for you!! Yang: But! We first must catch Robby at all cost. Allo: Yes! Yang-san! Gras: We’ll definitely catch him no matter what! Allo: For Yang-san’s sake Gras: For the hot springs! Allo: HEEEY!!! Gras: Oh wait, no. For Yang-san’s sake! Yang: By the way you guys Allo and Gras: YES Yang: We’re almost running out of that (I think that the translation of ‘are’ in this conversation is not entirely right and that It might just be Yang not knowing what the name of the meds were (which starts with ‘are’) instead of saying ‘that’ (which is ‘are’ in Japanese)) Allo: that? W-what do you mean? Yang: You surely know what I mean. That... Allo: That? Aaaah, isn’t it… Gras: *quieter* I have no idea what he means by that? Yang: I’m telling you. THAT Allo: Huh? Umm, umm, HOOO I KNOW! Allegra! Yang-san; can we buy that in space? Yang: hah? Allo: Just as expected from Yang-san, even if it looks like this, I do believe so (?) Gras: ehhh, Isn’t the medicine for hay fever called Arejion(epinastine is its English name apparently)? Allo: No, it’s Allegra Gras: It’s called Arejion Allo & Gras: *Bickering about the name of Yang’ hay fever meds* Yang: Be quiet you two Allo & Gras: YES! Yang: I have hay fever Allo & Gras: Ah, is that so? Yang-san Allo: I’m allergic to pigs/pork meat (?) Gras: I’m allergic to wormwood Yang: Of course, I know about all of your allergies. Of course that doesn’t matter to everyone who is listening (It really does Mr. Yang, please tell me all of those useless facts) Gras: Everyone who is listening? Huh? Where? Allo: Look over there Gras: ah, yes. That’s right Yang: Anyway, that’s what I say Allo: Umm, you shouldn’t say it like that Yang-san. I don’t think it’s a good idea to say it doesn’t matter. If you’re kinder you will feel more appealing to the auditory visual and it might affect who will understand the instructions you give out. Yang: I see. How about this? What is this? *munches on a candy* Allo: Hah!? That sounds more like a quiz! Gras: This crunching sound… This is! Allo: This is! Allo & Gras: MILK ICHIGO CANDY!! *ding dong sound because they’re right* Allo & Gras: YAAAY!! Allo: In other words, that must mean Gras: The milk ichigo candy is running out! (?) Yang: Yes, it looks like it’ll run out sooner than later Allo: THAT’S A DISASTER!! Gras, we need to get more milk ichigo candy! Gras: yeah, but where are they selling it in space? Allo: Well, we need to find that place! Gras: ah, yes! Yang: Of course, our top priority is still catching Robby Allo: It’s as Yang says! We must first capture Robby and the milk ichigo candy is our second priority. Do you understand Gras? Gras: eeeh, why me? Allo: Because we must do everything for Yang-san’s sake! Gras: We go through fire and water Allo: Over the highest top of japan and through the mariana trench! Gras: Through the magma of Mt. Fuji Allo: And through the magma of Mt. Everest! Yang: LIKE I SAID! Didn’t you listen? MT. EVEREST IS NOT A VOLCANO Allo: Ah! I’m sorry Yang-san Gras: I remembered!  Also that if you dig a hole close to the volcano of Mt. Fuji, you get a hot spring! Yang: You remembered it right with that little brain of yours Gras Gras: *proud* YES! Allo: kuh, Gras got praised. Yang-san; I will definitely get you milk ichigo candy! In the mean time, please feel free to eat my cotton candy! Yang: Cotton candy? Allo: I brought in a cotton candy making machine. I can now have rainbow candy! Yang: Rainbow… *sad music starts playing* Allo: When I was little, we were poor. At the autumn shrine festival in my neighbourhood, a small shop always used to sell cotton candy. I always looked forward to the day I could afford to buy it. Then one day, I was given a little allowance and with the coins in my small hand, I ran towards the store to buy the cotton candy I had always longed for… But then… Gras: But then? Allo: *is crying at this point* I collided with one of my friends who was running and dropped the cotton candy in a puddle Yang: The memories of your young days… Allo: Yes… at that moment, the rainbow of my cotton candy melted away in the puddle and disappeared just like my dream… But now I have a cotton candy making machine! And I can make cotton candy forever! *More crying from Allo* Gras: Ah, Yang-san, he’s crying about the story… Yang: Allo… (y’all wouldn’t believe how soft and tender Yang says his name and it makes me so weak). Remember well, it has passed now. Allo: Yes, Yang-san Yang: But! Our current dream will not disappear even if it falls into a puddle! Allo & Gras: Yes! Yang-san Yang: I’ll make sure of it. For you guy’s sake! We’ll get our dream! Allo & Gras: We’ll get it! Yang: And, of course that too Allo: Yes! We’ll get that… Allo & Gras: …MILK ICHIGO CANDY!! Yang: yes… Milk ichigo candy has some precious memories to me after all…

#Robihachi #drama CD #translation #allo #yang #gras #mr yang #found family #they're so cute guys #I love them so much

[nevermindtheweights]

“Dude, that looks like a food model of MT Everest-You really gonna eat all that?!” Videl asked Jiro.

The sheer amount of food was quite something.

It looked to be quite dense and was made up of a lot of home-made foods. One would know it to be Videl’s cooking but anyone of the human’s family would know that most of these foods came from Chi-Chi. With that knowledge, this was a mountain of not just food but food designed to feed a saiyan. Jirou gazed at it, trying to take it in, it was tens of thousands of calories alone. A meal for two maybe three people that would be their daily intake. 

And Jirou was to eat this by herself? If not for the fact she had been told to starve for this, she was also the heaviest she had ever been. Videl had been feeding her plenty of late and this, this must of been the reason. Eyes glanced back at the other seemed to revert to her tomboy ways of old to tease her. A blush of red dusted Jirou’s cheeks and she have a firm nod.

No need for a knife or fork, she would use her bare hands to gobble this down. Taking a breath to steel her nerves, she reached out and grabbed what seemed to be a hunk of roasted dino meat. Her other hand picked up a soy-sauce smothered rice-ball, munching on the two, she swallowed it down. 

One bite down.... hundreds to go.... 

#rockysavannah

[darrenhilll]

In this episode of 'the story pilgrim,' join me on a heartfelt journey through family connections and outdoor exploration. After a touching moment at my stepdad Brian's memorial, my cousin Hayley and I decided to embrace more joyful moments together. With Hayley's adventurous spirit, having trekked through Nepal and reached Everest base camp, and our shared love for hiking, Aldbourne becomes the backdrop for our adventure. Amidst stunning scenery, we share laughter and reflection, fueled by snacks like Monster Munch and sushi atop Liddington Hill Fort. Join us for a blend of cherished family bonds and outdoor escapades in this captivating episode.

[waitingforspoons]

Lennox isn’t great with arguments 

Lennox: Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I really needed some time out of the house. My parents were giving another intergalactic debate on what their species and their views on parenting.

Everest: Oh man, my parents only debate about which milk to buy. My mom always wins by the way.

Lennox: You’re cute when you do that.

Everest: Do what?

Lennox: Compare the delicate balance of the galaxy to buying milk.

Everest: Maybe i should check my hearing, but it sounds like your talking calling me dumb.

Lennox: No, I just--

Everest: Besides, I was just trying to compare it to something normal.

Lennox: I’m not normal, Eve.

Everest: Yeah, but sometimes when you do that it feels like your saying it’s my fault I don’t grasp the things you do.

Lennox: Its not your fault.

Everest: Thank--

Lennox: Earth knowledge is kind of subpar at best.

Everest: Blue, your really doing a terrible job at reassurance.

Lennox: But--

Everest: I’m going to go upstairs, so the mood is the only thing being killed tonight.

Sorry, I’ve actually had these all week it just took a while for me to figure out an order to put these in.

#sims 4 #the sims #ts4 story #ts4 #sims4stories #the sims 4 #sims4 #Everest Munch #Lennox Novak #sixamsyndrome #fights about superiority #maybe ill have more later #ts4 couple

[indiabycaranddriver]

The Complete Kathmandu Travel Guide For Tourists

Kathmandu, the capital city of Nepal, is its heart, and we can’t deny this point. It’s a mirror image of the country and thus presents you with authentic Nepali experiences. Fun fact, the city has 4 out of ten UNESCO world heritage locations and two around it. As a result, there are various things to explore in Kathmandu, including shrines and much more.

So here, we at India By Car and Driver give you a travel guide, so that you can tour around easily in Kathmandu with the Best Of Nepal Tour and Nepal Mountain, Culture and Wildlife Tour Packages.

How to reach?

As India By Car and Driver, we believe that you must know how to get there before going to a place. Not learning how to get somewhere is like not learning how to walk so that you will be stuck in one place, so let’s see how to reach Kathmandu first.

Flight: The city is connected by domestic as well as international flights.

Taxi: It’s the most convenient way to travel in and around Kathmandu, the rates are 45 NPR/km, but you will have to bargain for it. Note that if you are taking a taxi from the airport, the fare is approx. 500-700 NPR.

Bus: It’s a bit inconvenient but cheap, as local people will crowd the buses and sorry, no AC, but the travel experience is worth it, you will have to pay 20-50 NPR depending on the distance.

Micro Bus: These have a capacity of about ten persons and are an excellent way to travel with charges starting from 10 NPR.

Important tips

Please note these valuable points.

●       You will require an average of 2-4 days to explore Kathmandu.

●       You can visit the city at any time in the year, but late September to November is a tourist’s high noon.

Accommodations

You have reached Kathmandu! Now you need to go and find a place to stay. Is your heart throbbing with this thought? Well, no need to worry. Since Kathmandu is the capital of Nepal and a tourist attraction, you can easily find accommodation from budget hotels, luxury accommodations, homestays, hostels, and more. The best accommodation areas are Thamel and Golkupakha.

●       For the valuable part, a stay in Kathmandu will cost you around 829.31- 35541.68 NPR approx.

Tourist attractions in Kathmandu

Kathmandu is a blend of modern and traditional places, making it a place that allows you to see the best in Nepal. So let’s give you a rundown of these places without a long, dull opening.

●       Monuments: Kathmandu Durbar Square, Hanuman Dhoka. Hindu Temples: Pashupatinath, Dakshinkali Temple, Guhyeshwari Temple, Jagannath Temple, Kirateshwar Mahadev Temple, Kasthamandap.  

●       Buddhist Sites: Swayambhunath, Boudhanath, Budhanilkantha, Kathesimbhu Stupa, Kopan Monastery, Chabhahil Stupa.

●       Markets: Thamel, Asan Tole.

●       Miscellaneous: Freak Street, Garden of Dreams, Casinos.  

What to do here?

There are many different activities in Kathmandu that you will think about what to do? And what not to do? So here is a menu of the best.

●       Get blessings from the living goddess Kumari.

●       Try Nepali food.

●       Buy traditional handicrafts.

●       Yoga and meditation for the soul.

●       Ayurveda treatments.

●       Experience the backstreets.

●       Back to school with classes and workshops.

●       Fly to Mount Everest however you like and climb it if you dare.

What to eat?

Being a food lover myself (not a foodie), this is my favorite section, so let’s dive into it right away. Four of these are even available in India, but I will leave it up to you to guess which ones?

●       Munching Momos.

●       Chilly Choila.

●       Pampering Pakora.

●       Sizzling Samosa.

●       Tantalizing Thukpa.

●       Nail Licking Nepali Thali.

●       Delicious Dal Bhat.

Source Link : https://indiabycardriver.blogspot.com/2021/09/the-complete-kathmandu-travel-guide-for.html

#BEST OF NEPAL TOUR #EXPLORE NORTH INDIA #KERALA TOUR PACKAGE #RAJASTHAN RELAXATION TOUR

[boctis]

37- What is your ideal bed? Why? 110- Say 5 facts about your bestfriend(s): 111- The last person you hugged? 226- Share the story of something that makes you smile: 253- One thing you’re excited for: :D

These are great questions, anon! I’m going to have fun answering them >:)

37- What is your ideal bed? Why?

Usually it’s pretty chilly where I am, so I have two blankets. One fluffy thin blanket, that feels like my cat’s fur, and another horrifically thick duvet on top. I love drowning in my blankets :’)

In summer, I usually just have a thin sheet, or nothing at all. Summer nights are too balmy for a covering…

110- Say 5 facts about your best friend(s) 

If you know me, you’ll know that I love my friends to ABOMINABLY HIGH LEVELS. LIKE, MT EVEREST ALTITUDES.  Sometimes I lie awake at night and randomly think about them and start smiling like a strange wolf, haha… I really do love them to absolute bits and pieces :’D

In no particular order!

1. Three of them are lactose intolerant. Two of them can have small amounts of dairy in foods every day, and the other can’t have any dairy at all, otherwise she’ll get violently sick. 

One day, we made… biscuits, I think? for food tech, and she was stuffing about five of them into her mouth.

After about a minute, we both realised what she was eating.

To this day, I’ve never seen a girl Naruto-run so fast out of a classroom like she did…

2. One of my friends is Bangla, but she hates fish. All fish. Every. Single. Type. Of fish.

Even smoked salmon.

She disappoints me every day.

3. One of them is my partner for all the sciences, and whenever she goes about making her jokes and innuendos and whatever, she giggles and whispers SO LOUDLY OMG. SHE’S SO SO CUTE, BUT WHENEVER WE TELL HER THAT SHE’S WHISPERING TOO LOUDLY SHE ALWAYS DENIES IT. SHE’S SO GODDAMN CUTE AND AN ABSOLUTE DOOFUS!! SHE CARRIES CLASS DISCUSSIONS LIKE AN ABSOLUTE WARRIOR BUT THEN THE NEXT MINUTE SHE GOES ‘HEY GUESS WHAT, CHEMISTS DO IT ON THE TABLE PERIODICALLY’ AND THEY’RE ALWAYS SO BAD BUT WE CAN’T STOP LAUGHING BECAUSE THE JOKES ARE THAT BAD AND SHE PROBABLY GOT THEM OFF FECKIN GOOGLE!!

4. One of them brings sweets absolutely everywhere. 

Once, in the morning, I witnessed her stuffing about seven strawberry laces into her mouth. She looked at me, smiled, and stuffed some blue stuff into her mouth, too. 

I don’t even know what the blue stuff is, but I will forever thank her for being my sweets supply wherever I go.

5. One of them gives the best hugs. just. omg. She’s quite a bit taller than me and she’s so so cuddly, and whenever she sees me (or any of our friends!) she does this Olympic athlete sprint towards me and gives such a warm and tight and long hug and it’s AMAZING I KID YOU NOT I LOVE HER TO PIECES

Aw, I wanted to gush for longer! ;–;

111- The last person you hugged?

No. 5 above, after English on Friday! Honestly, though, I hug a lot of people every day - at least 10, I’d say, so this question was pretty hard to answer. :’)

226- Share the story of something that makes you smile

MY BRONZE DOFE EXPEDITION LAST YEAR, HANDS DOWN. 

For context, I was with a group of 7. All of them are my close friends, and we were all pretty enthusiastic about the expedition. :’D

Mind if I make a list? The entire expedition is a whole story by itself, and I won’t do it justice if I make it short!

(Under the cut because this got long!)

I was in charge of bringing the matches. I FORGOT TO BRING THE GODDAMN MATCHES

You know the friend from above - my ever-faithful sweet supplier? As a joke, we all told her she should bring as many fizzy drinks as she could carry.

She brought a 12-pack of Monster. And an entire loaf of bread.

Traipsing around in the British countryside is super fun!

Until you realise that you have no flippin clue where you are, and an angry farmer is driving at you with epic deadly intent in those little golf-cart vehicles that farmers magically seem to have (and probably with pitchfork in hand, too…. hsdfajgfh he was… an Experience)

I read the map upside down. (I still hate myself for this)

Most of the time we were looking at awe at the countryside scenery.

ALL THE OTHER TIMES WE WERE SWEARING LOUDLY AT THE MUD. IMAGINE A GAGGLE OF SPOTTY TEENAGERS CRAWLING THROUGH MUD ON A SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, SPITTING AND SWEARING AT THE GROUND

Petting all the horses! THEY WERE SO CUTE.

I led my team through a thicket of brambles. They were really painful!

Until I realised that I led them in the wrong direction.

WE WERE CHASED BY ALPACAS. EVERYONE RAN, BUT I DIDN’T, BECAUSE I THOUGHT THEY WERE FUCKING HORSES

(We jumped a fence to escape. I don’t even know whose field we ended up in-)

At one point, we were so lost that we ended up going off the map. 

(At that point, we all sighed, threw down our rucksacks and proceeded to munch on Doritos, because, logic.)

At about sunset, we ended up on a motorway.

Obviously, logic dictates that you’d get off the motorway and find a safer place to read the map again, right?

WRONG.

WE WALKED ALONG THE FUCKING MOTORWAY.

PLEASE DON’T DO THIS. IT WAS SO STUPID AND DANGEROUS AND TO THIS DAY I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE WE DID THAT

It was getting super super dark, and we still hadn’t reached the campsite, and we heard a man’s voice behind us?? And we were very frightened???

It was actually a really sweet Chinese couple who asked us if we were okay! (I love them sm, they were so so kind)

We wanted to get to the campsite at 3pm. We got there at 10pm.

We made smores at camp, and did that thing where you twirl the stick around in the air and watch the flame trail it leaves behind. Our campsite was next to a lake of sorts, and lemme tell you that having smores and laughing around a campfire with your close friends and the most wondeful scenery ever is so, so beautiful.

All 7 of us (and another who joined because, reasons!) squashed up in one tent, instead of the two we were supposed to, because, friendship.

Y’see, 8 people is definitely too much for one tent. But we made it work!

(I was laying diagonally across 4 people, squashed on top of @kokoscrazyblog ‘s stomach. She repeatedly told me to get off, but I said something along the lines of ‘hhhrrrrghghghghh no, I Warm Am…’)

(Two people were crouched at the tent entrance, munching crisps all night long. I kid you not, I woke up halfway through the night, and saw them in quiet conversation, stuffing their faces like goddamn hamsters)

At one point, my friend screamed, because I was sleeping with my eyes open, and my head was tilted nearly 90 degrees in her direction. (She called me traumatising and satanic. :( )

At another point, I dimly registered the soft pit-pattering of rain on the tent ceiling. Obviously, I told my friends to watch out for the rain whenever they wanted to go to the toilet at night.

In the morning, my friends looked at me weirdly. Koko informed me, later, that I had actually told them that ‘it was raining eggs… Watch out for the eggs…..’

I tried to toast bread with a trangia, Everyone laughed at me. :(

Near the end of our expedition, we all picked up walking sticks, and pretended we were all Gandalf. (It was GOOD)

Honestly, I think I’ve forgotten so many things, but DofE was something I enjoyed immensely, and the entire experience was so amazing that I’ll never forget it :’) Doing it with the right people is key! Ahh, I want to go back now…

253- One thing you’re excited for: :D

SUMMER! I’ve got so many things planned!

First, straight after my last exam, my friends and I are going to watch Incredibles 2, eat a lot of popcorn, and then find a park and bask in the content feeling of friendship. And no more exams. And summer, in general.

In summer, I’m hoping to have a ton of movie marathons (Harry Potter, LotR, every Bollywood classic there is, STUDIO GHIBLI and much more!) Probably a Mario Kart party, and if SSB5 is out by then, I’ll have a Smash party, too :D

Starting Gold DofE! That’s a very big thing.

The Challenge will take up three weeks by itself. I don’t know if I’m going on holiday (probably not), but yeah - summer should be amazing.

Thank you for the questions, anon! I had tons of fun thinking up answers for these :’)

send me a number and I’ll answer it!

#personal #dofe #i have so many feelings about platonic relationships... my friends are fucking idiots but i will feed them anyway... #fave #ask #anon.

[absolutelyxosmittenxo]

Hey! Can I request Velvet, Coco and Blake's s/o surprising them with a lot of gifts in their birthday?

{ notes; spoiling my darling babies endlessly on their birthday? this content has me salivating, goodness. i considered leaving the presents up to the reader’s imagination, but soon concluded that wouldn’t be as fun, and not much would be available. so hopefully this suffices. thanks so very much for requesting, and i hope you enjoy ❤ }

－ ＶＥＬＶＥＴ ＳＣＡＲＬＡＴＩＮＡ ⭐

⭐ Ever capture a bunny-rabbit gone haywire from overwhelming joy on camera? Count your blessing, because if you hadn’t before, now you certainly have. Squeaks elicited thanks to the paradise of coddling can be heard from rooftops. Were Velvet’s eyes deceiving her? Objectifying reality wasn’t apart of the photographer’s birthday wish list, however. To be profusely dotted upon with bounteous surprises would catapult her high above the cloud’s reaches.

⭐ But as she digests the revelation of a pricetag larger than the seven foot Yatsuhashi, she’s engulfed with worry. Shaking her head side to side, flattery splatters a light peach pigment on her cheeks. “{Name}, thank you, but you didn’t need to get me so much. It’s just my birthday, nothing over the top.” That’s an instigation to reach forward and enlist the widely ranged battles to scream and shout whenever in doubt, as you provide clarity for why she is deserving of it all. The shy bun would smile warmly, “You’re too much. If you put it that way, I suppose accepting these gifts wouldn’t hurt.”

⭐ Secreting those stretched ears isn’t encouraged - identity shouldn’t be coined as execrable. Don’t be discouraged by embellishments though. Diversly patterned adornments would align Velvet’s faunus attribute, from bows, to gemstones, to polkadots - courtesy of you and “Ms. Trendsetter”. Glamouring shots can be taken with the click of a button, graciously produced with the endowment of quality camera filters. Additionally, she’s munching on freshly prepared carrot muffins for days, and embracing the stuffed replica of her every night.

⭐ The Scarlatina would demonstrate her indebtedness the best way she knows. Here’s a hint: Pictures speak a thousand words. All that has accumulated relationally would be gathered into an assembly line. Within a second’s notice, the bunny has congregated a Pandora box showcasing your favorite memories, now immortalized in scrapbook form. You would look forward to reveling in them whenever it would float your boat.

－ ＣＯＣＯ ＡＤＥＬ ⭐

⭐ Flair from top to bottom might decorate Coco’s appearance, yet she would be honestly flabbergasted. Had she drank too much caffeine or was she delusional? Most definitely, you must mistaken her for an Egyptian ruler or Roman goddess. None were disagreed how she rocked savvy, but by no means would she ever be venerated as the reincarnation of Cleopatra or Aphrodite.

⭐ “Color me impressed - I wasn’t expected something like this.” Shades drooping, the styling gunslinger’s orbs dissolve into a chocolatey substance, the ooey gooey texture dripping from the orifice. The birthday present rendition of Mount Everest has Coco quaking in her boots. “But whoever said I was complaining about being treated like a queen?”

⭐ Gucci Prada, Chic, Chanel and magazine’s most featured trite gossip would be brandished day in and day out. Bluntly, the ‘C’ in CFVY aims to give everything a shot at least once; it wouldn’t be wise to let such lovely couture go to waste. Your girlfriend’s influence appears to have rubbed off on you positively, too. Though feasting in what you to supply fashion-wise, it isn’t all you’ve bought a coffee mug boasting Coco’s status as “Number #1 Girlfriend”? She’ll drink from it every single morning until the day she dies. Ammunition of the most well developed design? Firing dust infused militants is a thrill to kill for. How you could afford so much is up in the air, but nor was it a constant topic of discussion. Why would she question the origins of your generosity when she’s free to lavish in the never ending luxury?

⭐ Believe me when I say you aren’t getting away with that unconditional kindness without expecting to be repaid. Towed to the nearest shopping center, you would be disposed to ceaseless pampering. Whatever you can think of you shall receive. The final tax on the receipt is out weighted by the stylish leader’s determination to return the favor. Doesn’t matter how costly it is - you are worth every penny.

－ ＢＬＡＫＥ ＢＥＬＬＡＤＯＮＮＡ ⭐

⭐ Rationalism appeared to be discarded heavily throughout your splurging frenzy. Scleras dilate, as the feline is devising an applicable conclusion to wrap up all the loose ends without wrangling them into knots. A cat’s eyes dilating is an indication of brightness reflecting upon them, but under this set of circumstances? She’d be wordlessly gawking at the Eiffel Tower serving size of presents resting before her. The grandiosely placed cherry on top was how they were for Blake and Blake only.

⭐ “{Name}, you didn’t have to get me anything. Especially when it amounts to this.” Contradiction rebukes her dismissal once she unravels the pretty ribbons holding them incarcerated. The revolutionist’s collected impasse would shrivel as it’s replaced with that teeth rotting sweetness: A grin drafting all tractions of jubilance experienced in a seventeen year lifespan.

⭐ The moonlit majesty can excavate into every unnatural although tempestuous plain of existence known to man. Thanks to you, your beloved now can be invested in every book under the sun - and to an extent, what the Milky Way and furthermore has to attest for. Evenings of what she can spare is spent picking apart the ruins of ancient caverns, footing for one entity to regain control, or stuck knee deep in the numerous sequels and adaptions of “Ninjas of Love”. As your stars have aligned, the lover of literacy wouldn’t spill the beans when you try giving the last book she was reading a try.

⭐ Strangely, Blake was figuratively tethered to those gift boxes. She simply couldn’t part with them. But you are fatally wounded beholding the warzone built from the containers. Not from bullet holes piercing your backside, but the nearly adult faunus hopping from box to box as if she were a youthful kitten learning the ways of life. You would never let her live it down as you catch her time and time again in the act.

#rwby imagines #velvet scarlatina #coco adel #blake belladonna