#paulo's farewell

[dyclerc]

Some pics from the farewell that I didn’t post cause I was crying and this was too sad. Been on my drafts for months now 😅

[newzzwired]

Outgoing South Korea Coach Paulo Bento Bids Emotional Farewell

Outgoing South Korea Coach Paulo Bento Bids Emotional Farewell

File photo of Paulo Bento© AFP Paulo Bento has bid an emotional farewell to South Korea, calling his four years as coach of the national football team a “beautiful experience which I will never forget”. The Portuguese former international midfielder took the Koreans to the last 16 of the World Cup in Qatar, where they were beaten 4-1 by Brazil last week. The 53-year-old said in the immediate…

[hatsukeii]

fragrance: when the rain stops, replica / timeskip!hinata shoyou x reader

notes: aquatic accord (top), isparta rose (heart), patchouli (base)

description: the sudden end to a rainy season, a first glimpse of sunlight from the clouds

disclaimer(s): weak sillage, requires frequent reapplication

wc: 1152

warning(s): nothing!! safe!! very safe for all!! gn reader!!

author's note 1: this is actually a continuation/prequel of another fic i read! i've reblogged it on here, so go to the end of this fic to find out who wrote it...;p

"Raining in Japan? Again?" Hinata's voice rings through your earphones, his face pixelated and blurry on the weak connection of your phone as you scrub at dishes and cups. The tap splashes, water sloshing and dripping from your hands as you smile sadly. The house smells of dish soap and traces of wet leaves from the trees outside, pummeled by relentless droplets of rain that pass on from tapping at your windows.

"Yeah, has been like this since you left, Sho." You glance at the phone momentarily, squeezing a wet sponge. For the two years of Hinata's departure, the spring has been weeping in daily showers and drizzles, clouds disintegrating into curtains of rain. The water bills sitting on the dining table behind you have gone down by a landslide since he's been gone, both from the lack of dishes that sit in the sink, waiting to be washed, and the sudden disappearance of an extra shower in the night, one that ends in a mess of wet, orange hair beneath your hands and between your fingers as you run through the strands, a hair dryer in hand. Through the phone, his skin looks tanner, yet the sun that reflects from his skin paints patches of white and gold on his face, a pair of sports sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

"Looks like Brazil has been a good time though, good weather?"

He gleams at the comment, crows feet emerging on the skin of his eyebags, and his smile is brighter than the sun that illuminates him.

"Yeah, good time and good weather. Would be much, much better if you were here though!" He holds the phone up, and his entire beach volleyball team is behind him, tall and towering over his relatively smaller figure who rolls a suitcase as he walks ahead. "Say hi to the teammates!" The men glance up and wave enthusiastically through the blurry videocall. Ah, Brazilians, always so kind. You smile, flicking your hands into the sink, before returning a small peace sign from above your head. From the two years of daily videocalls, snuck into walks from the beach to the dorms, or stolen from dinner parties and gatherings on lonely rooftops, you've come to know the names and faces of each teammate, and your heart takes a hit of guilt knowing they must have enjoyed Hinata's presence for the two years.

"I wish I were there too, Sho, or that you were here."

He smiles, pulling the phone back to himself. He would do anything to have you in Brazil with him, but he won't need to. Not when he's standing in front of Sao Paulo Airport, luggage and bags in hand as his teammates get ready to crowd around him for farewell embraces and manly kisses on the cheek. He'll miss his teammates, sure, but he's missed you much more than he could ever miss anyone else.

"Well, I'll be back in another twenty hours or so, and that's already twenty-something hours too many. Just got to the airport, but God, I just want to be with you, right now. I'll talk to you soon, 'kay? Love you."

"You're on your way, we'll be together soon, Sho. Love you too, I'll see you soon." The call cuts off, and what remain are soap suds in the sink, water bills on the dining table, and the never-ending drumming of rain on your windows. There are no stars in the sky, the moon too tired to crawl through the blue-grey clouds, the ones that let loose the water that makes them up for weeks on end, and years on end. You retreat from the kitchen, and into the bedroom, crawling into the comfort of your down quilt as you lie on your side, and stare at the empty dip of the mattress beside your own. The rain cries out now, bouts of lightning flashing periodically, followed by the booming of thunder, and you wonder if something will happen. What if the flight gets delayed, because of the stupid weather? What about turbulence? Hinata has always hated turbulence, ever since the senior grad trip the Karasuno volleyball team took to Brazil, the trip where he had to cling onto your arm for stability as the aircraft rumbled and bumped, battling with winds from all directions. What if the airplane goes through that again, and he has no one to hold on to this time?

You shake your head, ridding your mind of the endless possibilities, and swap your pillow with his. Your face presses into the fresh pillowcase, taking a sniff. His cologne has worn off, to your disappointment, only the faint traces of patchouli and fresh earth remaining beneath the guise of detergent, and you sigh, reminding yourself that he will be here, just in another day. And as you fall asleep, face half pressed into the pillow, your mind searches for the forgotten fragments of his fading cologne.

The next day rolls by like a script. The rain drizzles and pours again, and your lonely laundry tumbles and turns in the washing machine, dull beeps and clicks interrupting the nervous tapping of your feet at the ground as you wait for the turn of a key. The TV drones on in reports of another rainy day, trailers for shows and movies you've been waiting to watch with Hinata, the occasional time announcement that ticks at your brain like a time bomb, waiting to go off. Dishes from breakfast and lunch pile in the sink, sitting lifelessly as they wait for someone to scrub them beneath water and soap. The washing machine plays its little jingle when the clothes finish, and you drag yourself from the couch, pulling out a laundry basket to shove them into. Pulling open the door to the machine, the lock of the front door turns.

For the two years that Hinata is away from Japan, the springtimes weep in endless drizzling for weeks and weeks on end, and the summers cry out flurries of rain and lightning. The trees on the walks home catch onto stray droplets, sagging beneath the weight of water, rainboots and umbrellas becoming every day essentials for most of the year. Weather forecasters laugh and joke about the lack of sunlight, cue cards in hand in front of a LED screen, but the gloom evidently weighs down their eyes and dims their smiles with each passing week of rain and storm.

Yet the moment Hinata pushes open the front door, his luggage and bags of souvenirs and equipment thrown onto the wet ground carelessly, the drizzling and tapping of water on pavement and glass gradually silences. And when he lunges forward, holding you tight against his chest like a man robbed of his heart and soul, the forgotten notes of rose petals and crisp water flood your nose, and the clouds part for the sun to come home.

author's note 2:

@kuroppiii HEY BBG THANK YOU SM FOR YOUR BRAZIL HINATA FIC BECAUSE IT ACC JUST FILLED ME W SO MUCH INSPO

for anyone who read this please please PLEASE go check out the og one from @kuroppiii!! this is supposed to be a prequel/continuation of what they wrote and might make both reads just thiiiiiiis much more fleshed out!!! please give them love because i sure loved their work smsmsmsmsmmmmm

and also brazil hinata needs to save me ngl i love him..

tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @starlysama @afyrian @catsoupki @bailey-reeds @iiwaijime

ok love u guys see u in the next one bye bye

[stylesnews]

undefined

Harry getting his crew member a well deserved farewell during WMYB in São Paulo, night III - 14/12

[hldailyupdate]

“You’ve given me these memories that… I’m going to remember very a very very very long time. I know that 2022 is a year that I’ll never forget. When I’m old and grey and I can’t move and I can’t do anything I’ll be thinking about you. I’ll probably be seeing you very very soon my friends!”

-Harry bidding farewell to this year of touring.

Love On Tour 2022: São Paulo, Night 3. (14 December 2022)

[drinkthemlock]

S. Paulo, July 20th 1848.

My dearest,

[…]

I stopped the horse, and admired! — I had left with the others and, having galloped ahead, they stood in my way. — I stopped and admired that beautiful spectacle! — Those grey-colored smoky clouds — that starless sky… and the balsamic breeze that struck and shook the brush and whistled in the trees, in the hills; and, alone amongst the silence of the approaching night, an unknown bird sang its parting hymn to the day that had died in the shadows…

And so, my Luís, I felt as if from within me a hymn of sadness was exhaled as well, as languid as a farewell— but, if from tears, they were less bitter. — and this canticle, this thought so sweet incensing my mind, was one of longing, — it was [of] you.

And some very long thirteen months must pass still before my longing is quenched. It is sweet— certainly— sweet is the thought of having a friend, though he may be absent: it is very sweet, but of a shredding sadness that embitters the heart.

“My pleasures

Have been only my friends— my beloveds

Ought to be only them in this world”

–A. G. Dias*

If one day I wished to describe the feeling— as I experience it— of friendship, I would certainly not find two verses that better described it [than these].

–Azevedo

My dearest is written in English in the original as well. btw. [gunshot]

*excerpt from Antônio Gonçalves Dias’ poem Quadras da Minha Vida, Canto VI.

[soranihimawari]

Promises on a Playground

Pairing: timeskip!ushiwaka x f!Olympian reader

Word count: 3.1+K

Warnings: none (?) an allusion to morning after

Rating: UWF (ushijima wakatoshi fluff)// sfw

Ushijima Wakatoshi, power server and ace canon of team Japan is seen at a bar in the middle of a club centric zone. It’s later than he thinks especially with the rest of the Adlers behind him. Tonight everyone in their roster is celebrating the redrafting of their teammates to the 2024 Olympic Games in Europe. Coincidentally, since his wrist accident during the off season happened early last year, this might be his second or third Olympics before officially playing a farewell season. He’s not getting any younger and his mother, bless Ushijima-sama, is praying he soon finds a person he loves just as fiercely as the sport he loves.

The club is hosting a private jazz lounge area so everyone can mingle with each other. Various players from the MSBY, Saõ Paulo, and even a few EJP Rajins are there too. All of them came back to celebrate their return to their national teams. All except Oikawa who is taking break considering he has his first child due any day now according to his private lifestyle socials media accounts. Iwazumi mentions he’ll be missing a few practices, but his best friend had named him godfather, so he’ll be in Argentina hoping to be the first to greet the his friend’s child before anyone else does. Upon hearing the news about how his old rival, nowadays isa soon to be parent, makes Japan’s canon a little, well, lonely.

Swirling the rocks glass in front of him, Ushijima thinks back about the random elementary school kid he hung out with at the jungle gym when he was nine just about to be ten. He takes a mighty sip, brandishing off the whiskey neat before ordering another one from the bartender wandering around the room. For whatever reason, he recalls his mother and granny asking the babysitter for his new friend’s phone number back then. His mother mentioned how shy and intimidating her son can be and the baby sitter introduces herself as a relative to the pair of older women.

“I’m yn’s aunt,” ushijima’s ears are sharp enough to hear that as his eyes look at you; you who dressed in overalls like him with light lilac puffy sleeves and even light sapphire hair talks about castles in the sky.

“Yn? How pretty,” Ushijima’s mother hums, eyes aglow when she notices her son curiously make a face at the chatter box you are.

You’re laying down cloud watching and before ushijima knows it, you entourage him to lay back and he watches them too. For a ten year old reserved child like him, the fact that you hold his hand like any best friend would, made his heart beat a bit quicker. So, after you’re called by your aunt to say your good-byes.

“I have to go,” you pout as he helps you sit up. A younger version of him just blinks as he feels this impending sadness in his chest--you were his first friend outside of his school; one where the classmates treated him as 'other' because of which hand was the most dominant, yet he didn't care what they called him behind his back then. You were a brilliant source of comfort for the last forty-minutes or so when you struck up a conversation with him at the top of the jungle gym. Your imagination made him a captain of a space cruier who on a whim, you choose to follow until you make it back to earth after a series of tag games. It's why you were on your back earlier, changing subjects about wondering if he'll be back tomorrow. Ushijima, the little kid he was back then, didn't know if he'd be back, so he just shrugs, unsure how to answer that.

“Wakatoshi! It’s getting dark, we should go too.”

“Mmhm,” he frowns. “Me too.”

You stand up when he orders his hand to help you up off the playground tarp.

“Y'know, it's ok if you're not here tomorrow Waka-kun." You hold his hand and give it a firm shake. Before you do truly part ways, you loop a pinky of yours around his. Looking dead straight in those childlike emerald stones of irses he had inherited, you raise your linked hands to each other's faces. "Meet me here when we’re in high school?” your odd request is met with a small sheepish smile.

“Five years from now?” he seems surprised.

“Yup! I’m sure you’ll be popular toshi-kun,” you had a slight smirk, giving his pinky a fateful squeeze before dropping it. “Don’t forget!”

A young Ushijima nods as you take off to the bench where your aunt was waiting before waving goodbye. His heart beat out of rhythm before he walked to his mom.

“Yn-chan is nice, hmm?”

“I guess,” her stoic son has a pout in his voice.

Mother holds her son's hand as they walk in the opposite direction where you and your aunt fade in the distance behind a neighboring street corner.

"Hey mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure. After your team practice is over, yeah?"

At this, Ushijima-sama looks at her boy who now has this cheeky grin tugging on his usually stoic straight lips as she just shakes her head in amusement.

It takes a few years of development and many Valentines confessions to realize Ushijima Wakatoshi had an after school playground crush on the elusive YLN,YN. Satori, one night in the dorms, bothers his fellow teammate to share former firsts—believe it or not your name is all ushijima can remember. Oh, and the fact you made him make a foolish promise of meeting at the same park now in the future was in fact an empty one. Although, one day right after graduation, Ushijima is hanging out with his new setter in the locker room for an extra practice. There is a tv with the news channels on with live coverage of the Sochi Winter Olympics that year. Lo and behold, you were a flag bearer for your home country with a summer sport under your name: Silver Medalist, WOMEN’S GYMNASTICS, 2016. You made the Olympic team before he and Kageyama did—you were one of the youngest to participate according to the announcers and god help Eros because Ushijima nearly lost his focus at extra practice that day. He almost didn’t return any of Kageyama’s servers.

Imagine how surprised you are as you’re invited by an old friend in the JVA to attend this gathering. You’re officially a three time medalist in individual rounds and even a two time gold medalist in team routines. Anyone who is an avid follower of your career record talks about you with pride in their smile. Well, it did help that your aunt was also your coach, but it also helped that for a while there, Karasuno also had an underground strong gymnastics team. No one ever heard about it until very recently when you named the high school and university you attended on invitational scholarship. Regardless, you greet Hinata who calls your name after you grab a champagne flute. You mingle your way over saying hi to everyone who stops you, saying your thanks and/or congrats to those who made the team. Again.

Hinata side hugs you, and you have hug a tipsy Kageyama, who leans on his former partner. Though they both blush at you greeting them, they also extend elated words you’re joining them in Europe for your respective sport. This time though, due to your physical therapy for a torn ACL right before World Championships, you are elected to be vice coach and spotter this term. You’re a little down, sure, but you wear it well as Kageyama saunters off to find the restrooms to relieve himself. Hinata says to follow him while he introduces you to the roster of players he’ll be reuniting with. Some you knew from coming to MSBY and Adler games, others you recognize from prior games like Aran-kun and Suna Rintaro. Names you wouldn't have recognized until it was Hinata who name dropped a few of them on your video calls when he was resigned to returning to Sao Paolo.

The last of these 'gentle monsters' as you tease them in saying is someone reminiscent of a child you made watch the clouds with you in your youth. Strength hidden underneath his semi formal wear sans sports coat, the young contemporary icon stifles a breath as you are introduced to each other again. This time, though, Hinata is called away by his former MSBY teammates thus leaving you and Ushijima to your own devices. For him, time slows as the small circle you’re surrounded by grows smaller. Soon enough, it was just you and him, filling each other with stories of growing up miles from each other, not even realizing you were rivals in volleyball come your high school years. Ushijima hums when you bring about that stunning block from a sarcastic kouhai back then, mentioning the city where that first year went on to play for an upcoming division one team. He tells you it’s old news especially when he sees how dedicated the others were to their craft. You and him reach for some hor d’oeuvres as the trays came around again.

“You never came back to the park where we met, Wakatoshi,” you say as you slide a few more mushrooms into your mouth. You swirl what’s left of your third sangria glad that night before downing it.

Ushijima is bewildered at your admission. Honestly, he forgot—he was ten! So were you, but friends don’t break promises no matter how old they are. You stifle a laugh as he blinks surprised by how sharp your memory is.

“I had a game, or was at practice…”

You nod. You too couldn't have made it every day for three years because you had practice to attend too, yet rain, snow, or sunshine didn't stop you. If you tell him that perhaps you might shoot your shot as Tsukishima would say. Hell, even when you texted the rest of your third years from Karasuno when you were invited to attend, Sugawara had the audacity to encourage you in attending. They all knew about the elusive kid you met in the summer right before you had started grade six: even they were surprised he turned out to be the captain of the powerhouse school who had been crazy enough to challenge Hinata Shoyo, 'from the concrete', once. You let that text memory die in the back of your mind while you went with the first option: guilt Ushijima Wakatoshi into liking your company like you were ten again. Fun fact: you didn't need to do that; he was already thinking of ways to get you to talk to himi long before you were standing side by side after you were reintroduced to each other.

“I spent three years, every summer break, curious about the kid I met back then. Kind and warm, like the fall breeze by the beach. Had an air of coolness from what i could tell too.”

You side eye him as he’s processing this information, what you seemed to have implied on yourself, turning on your heel after bidding him good night. Sauntering off, you find a few more familiar faces since you got the closure you didn’t know you wanted, but alas with your back to a different table this time, you’re approached by Ushijima. He’s a bit, intoxicated, you can tell by the way an alcohol blush tints his cheeks. The glass he had earlier was finished and replaced with another which was almost done by the time he walked over.

This was all thanks to Kageyama’s influence, after all the young setter went off on a hyper focused rant about how learning to love and earn love back helped his current relationship. Even if it was currently long distance. Flights from Italy to Brazil aren't really that cheap, yet for love of the sport and the man, Kageyama explains he makes it work. He has to because, according to the stubborn blueberry man, "love takes time to build, so seize the opportunity to love someone."

It was weird hearing this from his former Adler’s teammate, yet it makes sense as his eyes never wavered far from where you were talking-or was it flirting?-with other members of team Japan. Like how Miya Atsumu's eyes you when he hugs you with the widest grin on his face; or when Suna Rintaro chuckles as you see pictures of his baby nephews throw snowballs on a rice field in his hometown, drives Ushijima to give off Sakusa level warnings of backing off when he sees you interact with them.

Does it help that Ushijima felt a little jealous? No, why would it? You're laughing as Hinata sees the replay of Suna's nephews fight over Vabo-chan during the holidays last year as Ushijima walks over.

"Your nephews are so violent, but," you pause, handing the phone back to the middle blocker. "They do take after you and your bother, huh Miya?"

"Yeah, but 'Samu's kids are little terrors, but absolute angels when ya meet 'em," the blond says. Something about the way he sort of looks away from your face makes you wonder why you have this sneaking suspicion someone taller and more menacing than a house cat is lurking behind you. You shrug as Hinata glances over at the other two players across from where you stand and you can tell they are thinking of an easy way out of this conversation at this table as the jazz musicians take a break for a little while because right now, you feel a hand sneak it’s way around your waist.

"We're going to head back to the bar for some refills," Suna says taking your glass away from your hands. Your eyes watch Miya and Hinata scurry off before Suna gives a friendly, yet cold, warning look to the man who's standing like a guard dog behind you. Yellow-green eyes do not cower in front of the statuesque player who may or may not have been the reason you were still not seeing anyone as of late. (Suna means well, you know this as he was the first athlete in the off season to hang out with you regularly when you realize you went to the same all around gym by the EJP stadium. He's close enough to be family at this point, but young enough to know platonic love is the lane he needed to be in at this point in your life).

“Had enough?” you inquire as the others whom you were talking to waited for other beverages to be made. The perfume his designer had let him try gives of a scent of light cinnamon and earthy notes; it is faint on him, but to you when you lean back, it's a scent of comfort. It doesn't take a genius to see the comfortability around each other; it's enough that if the tabloids were here your 'snuggling' would break Twitter and the Adler's official accounts. That's a story for another time.

“Not yet,” his voice is rough, like he’s exhausted, but the way he says it as he pulls your hips back toward him, you almost choke on your own spit. Suggestive under the influence or not, you're not going to oppose if he invites you for a latenight hook-up; you're both grown enough to recognize this flirtatious dancing needs to come to a head.

However, the second Ushijima rests his head atop yours a moment savoring how you feel in front of him like this, is the few seconds it takes for you to relax further by reaching up and caressing his face. A sense of comfortability and spring like warmth spreads from soul outward. Your hand retracts just as he's about to lean into your palm, a pointed, peeved brow greets your peripheral as you rest the same hand on his arm. You're trying not to tease him further, but you do so in the most subtle of ways and it's driving him mad.

Perhaps you feel it too, judging by how his answer amplifies your rouge makeup, and so you lean more against his side like an old friend with the potential to become more. His lips were so close to the corner where yours began and if he caused you to turn just a little more toward him, Ushijima Wakatoshi would have unashamedly kiss you, publicly no less. Instead, you listen to how he breathes differently when you force him to sway with the band having returned to the small private clubroom stage. His voice begrundingly begging you to take the lead in carrying on whatever started here behind closed doors. And for what it’s worth, those that may have seen the exchange might have turned around would not believe how smitten the two of you are. 

"Y'mean to tell me I never had a chance?! Hinata," Atsumu squints at the blatant almost-couple across the other side of the bar. "Warn a guy before he flirts with Ushijima's lady."

"Oi! I didn't know they'd be like that 'Tsum!" Hinata whines. "But they do look happy, right?"

"Mm," Atsumu concurs by raising his refilled glass to where you are almost completely draped by the shoulders by Ushijima. "G'luck to 'em."

Meanwhile, after you had securely ducked under and over Ushijima's front side, you steadied him by holding his left arm on the side. He tilts his head down slightly to hear you clearer.

“We should head out,” you suggest. 

Your breath tickles the part of his upper arm where you lean against. You feel his chest rumble as you splayed a hand there to steady him when he nods apologizing for the drunken affection he’s giving. Not that you minded though. It’s not like you were waiting for almost a decade to see him this way, right?

Flash forward twenty-six minutes later and now you’re lip locked with this giant of a man who is and was still your first memory of a crush. This had started because once you kicked off your heels for the event, you glanced up at Ushijima standing there awkwardly in the foyer of his penthouse level hotel room: you choose to call out his name at first before taking his face in your hands and bringing him down to your level. Arms and hands from earlier grip the fabric of your outfit before you silently nod murmuring, "you can kiss me all you want here."

Now, Ushijima Wakatoshi, for all the years he's been visiting his father in the U.S., and from what his mother's dramas taught him about kissing has nothing compared to what kissing you had felt like. Nothing comes close to how his breathing is shallower the further you let him go without oxygen; the way one of your arms loop across his shoulder and the other with a gentle hand scratching his scalp the more you melt into him. You are like sunshine now and when you grant him reprieve from your kisses and those eyes that bewitched him stare back, sort of lackadaisical in a kiss drunk state.

"Been wanting to do that ever since you walked in," his voice has your back arch while he adjusts his hold. His nose nudges your cheek before acutely nipping the fat of your cheek there. You stutter forward perplexed by his quite frank neediness. Your hips almost touch, and when you feel Ushijima's soft chuckle against your ear he gives you a word of advice. "Patience."

Minutes later, Ushijima has you raised on the dresser in his hotel room, half undressed as your hands have undone several of his buttons. This time, he kisses you with a sense of urgency; his heart is suddenly picking up pace as is yours the further you sigh out his name when he marks your skin with his teeth and suckling lips. The dresser moves as you try to follow his eagerness to have you-all of you. His hands, feeling hotter than ever before, he uses one to support your back, whereas the other slips under your thigh and drags you forward with such a start, you moan his name into his mouth. He looks wide-eyed at you, not caring how you sort of have this embarrassed smile on him.

"Don't stop saying it," he snarls into your mouth. The dresser softly bangs back against the wall.

"Wakatoshi!" you whisper yell and you shake your head at how content he laughs into your neck.

"Hmm?" he kisses your collarbone.

"Gently this time," you instruct him. Ushijima acknowledges your advice, yet he's thoroughly thinking of other noises your voice can do

However, you choose to focus on something else: like how you got here to this point as you're given a chance to catch your breath. Almost half dressed by the man in your arms. It's not that you care about what you thought earlier that day when Hinata and Kageyama sent you texts inviting you out for drinks at the club; you just didn’t think this was the reconnection you needed to have with someone you met almost fifteen years ago when you were in primary school (you both were ten).

Not that any of that preemptive thoughts matter, not now anyways as you allow yourself to be loved by someone who is as strong to stand by you–lords of fate above, the truth you share as Ushijima rolls his shirt off his body. You can't help but stare unabashaedly at him, tanned through the years, sweet eyes boring into yours as you whisper where the zipper is on the side of your attire.

"Are you sure?" Ushijima's mighty hands find the hook-and-eye attachment on the zipper track. Your hand closest to where his is rests atop his wrist.

"If you think I'm going to hit and run on you," you help him drag down the zipper. "You don't know me at all."

Your clothes slide off as easily as the rest of his does. Though now you're both in less clothing as you let him continue showing his appreciation in having you wait for such a long time. It's not either of your first times in bed with another person, yet you know you'd have to be impervius of affection if you think with the way he cares for you afterwards is nothing less than a princely pauper's care is something out of a fairytale.

Ushijima settles in bed beside you as you wear an old traveling shirt of his after cleaning up.

"I take it we're together now, huh?" you are so cheeky as he rolls his eyes at you.

"I suppose it depends, yn," he replies.

"On what?"

"Whether or not you want to join me for breakfast tomorrow."

You nod enthused by his subtlety. A few moments pass by and as you begin to give sleep a chance, Ushijima pulls you closer to his shoulder, an arm of his cradles your head steady against him. Sobriety at this time of night makes him thank his stars you're here, asleep next to him. You shift in your sleep a couple minutes later and he hears you, murmuring a quiet, 'don't forget me' which if he was being honest with himself, he would have woken you up with an incredulous look of 'how did I?'

Come four in the morning, you're jostled awake by the remembrance of this not being your hotel room. You are able to recall meeting Hinata and Kageyama at the club; seeing and possibly reconnecting in more ways than one with Ushijima Wakatoshi, who is asleep behind you now. You're wearing his shirt, you feel an ache between your thighs and you're suddenly dragging a hand over your face before a chortle escapes your lips. No wonder your aunt was so adamant about you not trying to settle down until after your final Olympic Games after this one in Paris--you're going to have to sever the thought because of the man whom is now going to be keeping your bed warm will be the one you hope to settle with. Not because you both wanting to 'settle' no, because you two are learning how to keep a promise of love and friendship afloat. More so now the love had warped into one of a more romantic nature. You ponder this while tracing over his features with the calloued pads of your own hands from years of the gymnast powder used on them.

“You should go back to sleep, my heart,” his voice is even more gruff when you’re in a groggy mindset. He probably doesn't register what he said, but the moment he echoes what you said in your half-dreamlike state you lower yourself back whispering against his lips how you're not leaving him; you couldn't even if you tried. He seems to like that, smirking as he kisses your shoulder.

You chuckle turning over to face him now; slowly tracing his strong arms that wrap around your waist as they pull you closer to him like earlier. You readjust your body to lean against his sturdy self again just to press a kiss to the space between his eyebrows as he hums nudging his forehead against your own. Silently in this room just as your eyes flutter shut, you tell him how you can't wait for what tomorrow holds for either of you. For now, you both head back to sleep in the arms of the first real love you had found.

Perhaps now your younger selves all those years ago are laughing on the playground where a promise is fulfilled.

[pasiochampions]

INTRO POST

Hello! This blog is run by two siblings: Scottie (95%) and Bettie (like 5%)! We're siblings who decided to make a blog together! (correction; Scottie talked me into making a blog with him.)

Moving onto our personal intros:

SCOTTIE:

HI EVERYBODY! :D My name's Scottie, 16 he/him, I'm the current champion of Pasio, I've been a trainer for about a year now, and I'll be the one mostly running this blog! I like adventuring, so I'm always out and about. Here's my team! A lot of them don't have names yet... I'm open to name suggestions </3... Contrary to my current team, I really like fighting & poison pokemon! I'm hoping to train more Pokemon of those types, and construct a team based on those two types!

BETTIE:

greetings. i'm Bettie, 19 she/they, the former pasio champion i guess? i gave up my title to Scottie, so i guess that counts, even if i was only champion for... 5 seconds, maybe. anyways: i've been a trainer for a while, maybe 6 years. i don't do anything special, really, but i work in the lab with professor Bellis from time to time and foster Pokemon different pokemon. i won't be on here much, my little brother will be on more, but i'll be around to answer asks.

oh, and i specialize in ghost pokemon. but, anyways, here's my team.

Anyways~, that should be all! We can't wait to see where our journey goes. Feel free to send either of us asks! Bye-bye & farewell.

OOC under cut.

hello! my name is kaii, aka @elysianstarl1ght, i'm also the owner of kalosianlaurent & paulosadventures and i really wanted to make a blog for these two because i love them very dearly hehe. this blog will be very headcanon heavy! other pkmas characters, especially Paulo & Bellis, will be popping up from time to time as well! (also scottie's team is probably gonna change a million times bc i can't find a team i like for him </3)

TW for child abuse specifically neglect, depictions of depression & anxiety, sibling fights, & Bettie being extremely salty at Paulo (she's still not over the villain arc.)

im okay with any interactions or doing plots! however pleaseeee dm me about it first! i probably won't do high stakes, but im willing to do low stakes!

peliper mail & magic anons off! and no nsfw!

don't be afraid to send asks!!! i love asks!!! and please specify who it's for; bettie, scottie, both or either! (would prefer specific, though ^^)

Bettie's the embodiment of depressed golden child burnout & Scottie is energy incarnate, so you're going to get very, very different interactions with both of them!

yes i'm going to interact with laurent on timeline. theyre friends idc

TAGS/COLORS:

★ ( Scottie posting = Scottie (blue)

✦ ( Bettie posting = Bettie (purple)

✦ ★ ( Twins posting = Both (basic)

✦ ★ ( Reblogs = just reblogs!

♡ ( Ooc post = OOC (pink)

#୧✦ theyre fightin = Bettie & Paulo fighting

dividers by @/cafekitsune.

i believe that's all! thank you for reading~, take care!

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

Hi Sarah! Thank you so much for this space. If you can/ have the bandwidth could you provide clarity, please? I was loving the concert tonight. But the surprise songs left me hearbroken. Should I interpret them as Taylor saying she will never come back to Brazil? Or just as a fun way to finish the 2023 leg of the tour connecting songs with simmilar themes? I know, u din't know, but, what do u think? Would anyone else like to share opinions? Thanks <3.

Hi friend! You absolutely should not interpret it that way. Just a fun way of thematically saying farewell to the tour for the year 2023. 👋

A reminder that she called São Paulo "the most generous crowd in the world", Brazilian fans "incredibly loyal" and "wonderful". Taylor never intentionally plans to avoid countries - she wants to visit as many fans as possible around the world.

[whewchilly]

“Life is about passions

Thank you for sharing mine”

Michael Schumacher says Farewell to F1 at the 2012 São Paulo Grand Prix

📸 Wolfgang Wilhelm

[paperbag1999]

books i’ve read in 2023

• The Dispossessed - Ursula K Le Guin

• Little Fires Everywhere - Celeste Ng

• Once and For All - Sarah Dessen

• Heart Berries - Terese Marie Mailhot

• Convenience Store Woman - Sayaka Murata

• Empire of Pain - Patrick Radden

• First Person Singular - Haruki Murakami

• Carrie - Stephen King

• The Dark Forest - Liu Cixin

• Akira - Katsuhiro Otomo

• Pure Colour - Sheila Heti

• A Farewell to Gabo and Mercedes - Rodrigo Garcia

• Crying in H Mart - Michelle Zauner

• The Alchemist - Paulo Coehlo

• Yellowface - RF Kuang

• The Year of Less - Cait Flanders

Monkey Beach - Edin Robinson

I'm Glad My Mom Died - Jennette McCurdy

Ugly Love - Colleen Hoover (this was a hate read!)

How to Keep House While Drowning - KC Davis

The Fault in our Stars - John Green

Braiding Sweetgrass - Robin Wall Kimmerer

Currently Reading

Turtle All The Way Down - John Green

The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K Le Guin

[maranello]

Over the Sao Paulo Grand Prix weekend in Brazil, Scuderia Ferrari will honour the memory of Mauro Forghieri, who passed away on Monday at the age of 87. At Interlagos, Charles Leclerc’s and Carlos Sainz’s F1-75s will carry stickers with the message “Ciao Furia,” (Farewell Fury), the affectionate nickname given by the Scuderia mechanics to the brilliant engineer, who was noted for his somewhat fiery temperament.

Forghieri was proud of his nickname, hence the decision to use it for this final farewell. During his time with the Scuderia, the team won 54 Formula 1 Grands Prix, eleven F1 world titles, as well as nine endurance championships.  Apart from the two F1-75s on track in Brazil, the sticker will also feature on the works Ferrari 488 GTE cars racing in this weekend’s final round of the World Endurance Championship in Bahrain: the 51 car of Alessandro Pier Guidi-James Calado and the 52 di Miguel Molina-Antonio Fuoco.

[calciopics]

‘A lack of respect’: Brazil footballers fail to show up to Pelé’s funeral

Few of the country’s previous World Cup winners traveled to pay homage to the football legend

Some of Brazil’s best-known footballers have faced a furious backlash as fans and pundits questioned why they had failed to attend ceremonies bidding farewell to Pelé.

Hundreds of thousands of people waited for hours under a burning sun on Monday to file past the recently deceased soccer legend’s coffin at Santos’ Vila Belmiro ground.

But only a handful of Brazil’s World Cup winners made the trip 50 miles down the coast from São Paulo to pay homage, with Ricardo Kaká, Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior and Ronaldo Nazario among those singled out for criticism.

“Pelé is a citizen of the world, at the same level as Nelson Mandela or Mahatma Gandhi, but Brazilians don’t know how to recognise that,” said José Ferreira Neto, once a former Brazil midfielder and now one of Brazil’s most outspoken TV presenters.

“If they were World Cup winners and didn’t come to see Pelé, what can I say to them? At the very least it shows a lack of respect.”

Neto, who played for Santos’ archrivals Corinthians, appeared early on Tuesday morning at the 24-hour wake and was preceded by a host of dignitaries, including FIFA president Gianni Infantino; Alejandro Domínguez, head of the South American Football Confederation CONMEBOL; and São Paulo governor Tarcísio de Freitas.

Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva also flew in from Brasilia less than 48 hours after being inaugurated for a third term as president.

Many of Pelé’s teammates in the all-conquering Santos teams of the 1960s have died and others are well into their 80s and in poor health.

However, several of those who played alongside him were there, including Clodoaldo Tavares de Santana, who was the only one of the legendary 1970 Brazil team to appear. Tostão (Eduardo Gonçalves de Andrade), Jairzinho (Jair Ventura Filho), Roberto Rivellino, Gérson de Oliveira Nunes and Wilson Piazza were all conspicuous by their absence.

None of those who played in the Brazil team that won their fifth and most recent World Cup title in 2002 were present and only one of the victorious 1994 side turned up, Mauro Silva, who is now vice-president of the São Paulo football federation.

One of the most controversial absences was Kaká. The FIFA World Player of the Year in 2007 said in December that Brazilians did not show enough respect for their national heroes, citing regular criticism of Neymar and Ronaldo.

Kaká did not appear in Santos and his absence was noted. “Where is Kaká, who said Brazilians don’t recognise their heroes?” wrote Walter Casagrande Júnior, an outspoken Brazilian columnist. “Well, Kaká, after what we saw at Pelé’s wake, it’s clear that it is you who don’t recognise major heroes.”

Neymar, who came through the ranks at Santos before leaving for Barcelona and becoming the world’s most expensive footballer in 2017, was another who did not appear, with his father saying his son had asked him to represent him.

Casagrande hinted that Kaká and other millionaire footballers were used to getting paid for public appearances and he also suggested that Brazil’s World Cup winners did not go because Pelé, who sometimes worked as a TV analyst, had criticised some of their past performances.

Whatever the reason, the lack of star power jarred. One observer noted that David Beckham queued for hours to see the queen while Brazilian players did not avail themselves of special access through Santos’ historic marble salon to see the man known universally as the King.

The contrast was especially dissonant given the massive outpouring of popular support shown to the local star. Pelé’s coffin was driven through Santos on Tuesday morning, from the stadium to the mausoleum where he was buried, and huge crowds turned out to accompany the procession.

“None of us are ever going to forget this,” Neto said in a message directed to the absent stars.

“Anyone can put a photo of Pelé on their Instagram,” he said about one easy tribute. “Would it cost you to have given up two days of your holidays?”

[topex24]

Captivating Quotes: Words That Inspire and Enchant

There is a unique power in quotes that captivate our hearts and minds, stirring emotions and provoking thought with just a few carefully chosen words. These nuggets of wisdom have the ability to inspire, heal, and ignite our imaginations. Today, we celebrate some of the most enchanting quotes from literature that have left an indelible mark on readers throughout the ages.

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

"And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

"The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive." - John Green, Looking for Alaska

"In the end, we'll all become stories." - Margaret Atwood, Moral Disorder

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more." - Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

"The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it." - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

[lukedu]

a cidade estava com pouca luz, estava escura mesmo sendo três da tarde, cadê as crianças que brincavam no playground? cadê a senhorinha que jogava migalhas para os pássaros? é primavera mas as folhas caem, foi verão mas estava frio, ninguém patina mesmo estando congelado o rio? O arco-iris só tem duas cores, azul e cinza? a festa virou um enterro, o coração da cidade já não era mais o mesmo...

(EDUARDO, Paulo. 2022, nada muito relevante.); Arte: Farewell To Anger, 2022,   Leonid Afremov.  

[the-puss]

The End Of An Era

"It is always important to know when something has reached its end. Closing circles, shutting doors, finishing chapters, it doesn't matter what we call it; what matters is to leave in the past those moments in life that are over."

- Paulo Coelho

I've enjoyed my time here on Tumblr very much it's let me explore more of myself than I could anywhere else. Although the times have been intriguing I think my possible for growth here has come to an end. The people I loved talking to either aren't here very much or have been deactivated. This has been a lovely ride but it's time to move on. I will permanently delete this account sometime September 1, 2024 so get your reblogs in before you can't anymore. Goodbye and Farewell I hope you get what you are looking for here as I did.