#Brazilian Grocery Store

[evaa009]

Your One-Stop Brazilian Grocery Store in the UAE with Nativo.ae

Discover the taste of Brazil right at your doorstep. Shop authentic Brazilian groceries, snacks, and more, only at Nativo.ae. Fast delivery across the UAE!

Welcome to Nativo.ae – Your Gateway to Authentic Brazilian Flavours in the UAE

Are you craving the exotic and tantalising flavours of Brazil? Look no further. Nativo.ae is your trusted online Brazilian grocery store, bringing you a handpicked selection of authentic Brazilian food and beverages. From traditional snacks to exotic fruits, we have it all!

Why Shop With Nativo.ae?

Authentic Products: Sourced directly from Brazil to ensure you get the real Brazilian experience.

Fast Delivery: We offer quick delivery across the UAE to make sure your cravings are met in no time.

Quality Guaranteed: We're committed to offering only the highest quality products to our customers.

[ratwieldingpolearm]

miku’s gonna be in amarillo by mornin

[flowergardeninthewall]

I think it's a good sign if the recipie your planning on doing for the next day includes busting the food processor out the night before to marinate meat overnight

[olomaya]

Smoking+ (Mild Teenage Delinquency)

*cue the Spongebob 2 Years Later meme*

28-Sept Update: Added Brazilian Portuguese translations (thank you @cs2te!). Fixed an issue where there was no exit to the Sell Fake ID interaction. For those that have the Religion mod, you don't need a separate RM specific version, just download/redownload the main Overhaul package.

3-Sep Update: Thanks to ProtectusCZ over at MTS who let me know about a string issue with the vape flavors. That's been fixed so the flavors should not show up as blank when you are filling/refilling the cartridge. Also the smoking durations should now be tunable so you can adjust them in Retuner.

Czech version now available thanks to ProtectusCZ

2-Sep Update: If you have my religion mod installed, please download this version HERE (alt: here) to replace the main mod file. If you don't and don't want it, carry on.

This is the updated version of my overhaul of Cmomoney's Smoking mod which you can find here (original here). This update adds new features like vaping as well as more delinquency options for your teens by way of fake IDs.

Please read the full instructions after the cut before downloading.

Credits: Fake ID from @aroundthesims. And of course the OG smoking mod from Cmomoney on MTS.

I think that's it. Enjoy ruining your Sims' health and well-being. If you run into any issues, please let me know.

What does it do:

Everything my previous mod did

Sims can now sit and chat with others while smoking

I updated the way addiction works in the game. Previously it was just based on a random number of times smoked but now it's more nuanced and based on how often you smoke and certain trait and lifestyle factors (for example, if you have other smokers in your household, you're more likely to get a smoking habit)

Cigarettes and smoking items can now ONLY be purchased in a special section at the grocery store by YAs and above. You will see a new interaction in the store RH called "Shop for Cigarettes". Teens can get around this by using a fake ID. 

Fake IDs

Teens can purchase fake IDs from: 

Any common criminal (Sim in the criminal career Level 4 or below) 

Any teen that has a fake ID

You can offer a price and based on your offer, the dealer will either accept or reject. 

Rebellious, Computer Whiz or teens with high Rebel Influence Skill can also buy fake IDs online. The underground online market for IDs moves very quickly so prices change every time you check but will never go higher than §500 or lower than §50. Once you purchase, the ID will be mailed to your home the next day. 

HOWEVER, you need to make sure you get to the package first. If your parent gets the package and opens it, then all teens in the house will get in trouble. The one who ordered the fake will get a special moodlet that will allow them 24 hours to confess to doing it. If they confess to their sibling(s), the sibling will either forgive and agree to keep quiet or they will get mad and have the opportunity to snitch to a parent. If the wrongdoer confesses to a parent, it will exonerate the other teens but also potentially get them into bigger trouble with both their parents and their siblings.

Fake IDs aren’t foolproof. If you use it in the store, there’s a chance you will get busted and your fake ID will be confiscated. The chance is based on how young your teen is and the quality of the fake ID. Fake ID quality is determined when you purchase, based on the price you paid so you may want to think twice before jumping on that §60 fake.

Vaping

Sims can now vape, vaping pens can be found where you buy cigarettes.

Vaping pens cost §300 with a cartridge that needs to be filled before you can use and then after every 10 uses. You can buy a regular cartridge or a flavored one and the costs are varied but are all between §200-§300. (I know, it's an expensive habit.)

Vaping is not as unhealthy as smoking regular cigarettes, is less addictive and doesn't leave your Sim with a smoke smell.

For teens, vaping will still get them in trouble if they are caught by a parent doing it.

Known Issues:

There are no IK targets on the sitting animations (they kept floating above the chairs when I added them) so teens will sink a little into the chair because they're smaller than adults.

Download here | SFS alternative

[uzurimisery]

like real people do. / kageyama tobio / nsfw

wc: 5.5k

Warnings: Kageyama is autistic, smut, fingering, reader has nipple piercings, reader works in A&R for music, reader used to live in brazil, friends to lovers, awkward sex

A/N: experimenting with more awkward/realistic smut and I love my autistic blorbo Kageyama

thank you to @peachyminx and @dervngedgf for beta reading

Kageyama never did understand the way that conversations worked, or were supposed to work. They were winding, circuitous, jumping from place to place. Unstable like a fault line, bursting from tension. The older he got the more he began to have a loose grasp on them. One so faint it slipped from his fingers if there was too much deviation. It hadn’t been easy to get to this point. It took years of failed attempts at making friends, three failed relationships, and a PR manager to get here. 

Hardly a gentle climb into social know-how. 

There was a script that worked in most situations. The gym, interviews, the grocery store, casuals and quick conversations weren’t altering his normal routine in any major way.  He liked things being the normal way.

So why the hell was he in a club? A place that went so far against the normal?

It had been Hirugami’s idea, he said that the team needed to bond more. Kageyama knew it was just a thinly veiled excuse to get drunk on the team’s card.

 It was awful— the drinking.

Conversations were bad enough while sober, small talk, social cues being a forge in language, and alcohol just made him feel worse about them. The script was thrown across the room and given to an AI generator that made something worse for him to spit back out. 

The pounding music, early 2000s rap, split his head with each drum beat feeling like it was played against his skull. He could smell everything, the foreigners easily able to be picked out from the crowd. The buttons on his navy blue dress shirt had started choking him early so it was now half undone, which he hated. Shirts were meant to have only one, or two, buttons undone depending on the level of formality of the event attending. How many were appropriate for a club? At four buttons down the curve of the underside of his pecs could be seen. 

He felt out of place, out of his element, and like a child sitting at the grown-ups' table for the first time and trying to seem mature. 

“Tobio!” Nicolas shouted at him from across the booth. “When are you going to bring them around again?” 

His face scrunched up. “Why?” 

“Because if you’re not going to make a move I am!” Nicolas’ laugh was grating and sharp. “They used to live not far from my parents. A shame it took until now to meet.”

“I thought you were working things out with Maria?” Kageyama had stopped bringing you around after one too many comments on how he was in love with you and afraid to make a move. Something Nicolas harped on him for and took every opportunity to flirt with you in front of him. 

“Por que não ambos? Maria doesn’t have to know.” Kageyama hated the smirk that spread across the Brazilian's face. He knew that Nicolas was teasing him, just like he knew Nicolas wasn’t interested in you in the slightest, but it always drove him up the wall.

Wakatoshi cut in, voice steady and flat, as always. As much as Kageyama struggled with conversations he knew Wakatoshi would be right there with him. “I believe we have discussed many times that Kageyama-san has stated he is waiting for a better opportunity to discuss his feelings with them.” 

“That’s what he said last week and three months ago and then six months ago.” Sokolov chimed into the conversation now, monkey-like as he usually was, followed by Heiwajima.

“You really should talk to them about it. Either way, you need closure to get past your emotional constipation.” 

Kageyama wanted to crawl into a hole. It was bad enough having to figure out his feelings but having them discussed in front of him made him want to jump off the side of Tokyo Tower. His feelings were complicated. Tangled and messy, blending into each other. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to separate them let alone tell you about them.

“Guuys chill, chill,” Hirugami was back with another round of drinks. “Tobio will get to it when pigs fly.” The team busted out laughing. It was humiliating no matter how many times they all poked at him about it. The only way that he’d ever get them to stop was to confess to you.

“Fuck you guys.” He was grumpy now, grumbling into his drink as he took a swig. 

The chorus all said they just wanted the best for him, that there was no way you didn’t feel the same way, that it was all in good faith, all stuff to make them feel better about teasing him. He hated being teased. 

Maybe if he just told you they’d finally leave him alone about it. You might get distant for a bit but he had faith that you could be friends again down the road. 

“If I tell them tonight will you guys leave me alone about it?”

Nicolas’ sly look managed to get worse. “You tell them tonight and I’ll give you ten thousand yen.” 

“Deal.” 

Slipping his phone out of his front pocket and pulling up your contact information had never felt so stressful. He didn’t need the money, he just wanted to be left alone about this. 

To: Best Brazilian

Can you meet me outside Playa Del Sol? 

From: Best Brazilian

You’re at a club?

To: Best Brazilian

I wasn’t my idrea 

Typing was hard. The heat of all the bodies in the room made his hand slippery. 

From: Best Brazilian

Lucky you, I’m just down the street at a gig

>You think you’d be fine to hang out for that? Local band

To: Best Brazilian 

As long as it’s not Sean Paul 

From: Best Brazilian

Kk see you in 10 

Kageyama was, as usual, grateful for your friendship as he excused himself from the group and headed outside to wait for you. More often than not you served as a refuge for him. One of the few people in the world who truly understood him. You didn’t question his mannerisms and need for routine. 

Once he had asked if you thought he was weird, as flawed as he felt, and you had looked at him as if the question was stupid and gave a simple ‘no.’ 

Meeting you had been a deviation from the norm in the best way. Hinata had been visiting and when they were out they bumped into you, surprised since you had been a manager at one of Hinata’s favorite jazz clubs back in Brazil. 

Kageyama got lost in the conversation as Hinata and you bounced between English, Portuguese, and Japanese when speaking. You had corrected and steered the conversation to Japanese, seeing Kageyama’s confusion. 

Your Japanese was clunky back then, and your mouth still struggling with the syllables at times. More than that, your understanding of pitch accent back then was abysmal.

But that meeting had changed his world, shifted its axis. 

Eventually, Hinata’s two-month vacation ended and he left, and Kageyama expected you to leave his orbit too. But you didn’t, you stayed around. It’s been three years and you were still around. And it's been a year since he realised he loved you. 

When the night air had started to sink in, sweat from the club finally drying, he saw you round the corner. 

Every time he saw you he thought he’d get used to how beautiful you were but he never could. You were bright as the sun, warming him, the rays of your light brushing across his skin promised growth, comfort, and shelter. 

Your braids had been half pulled back in some sort of half-updo, two ponytails at the top of your head. He has watched you do them the other week. Or he had been watching before you made him help you since he was sitting there. He didn’t know how to braid at all, but you made him learn. Told him your continued friendship was dependent on it.

He was glad you made him learn though. It gave him an excuse to be in your space, close to you, for hours on end. To touch you without worrying if the amount of contact was normal or not. 

“Tobio!” His name always sounded so perfect coming from your glossed lips. There was a twinkle in your eyes. You had done your makeup for “special events” as you had once explained it to him. Instead of a normal cat eye, you had graphic black eyeliner. He never understood why you wore makeup but he knew that it was something you enjoyed doing. 

He stumbled a bit as he moved towards you, wetting his lips with his tongue as he said your name.

“Whoa careful there big guy! How much have you had to drink tonight?” 

Your arm grasped his bicep, his heart stuttering at the contact.

“Three double vodka cranberries and one beer.”

Your brows raised. “Rough time in there huh?”

“You have no idea.” Kageyama launched into recounting what had happened. 

One of his favourite things about you was how you didn’t press on topics he didn’t want to talk about. You left the conversation shift onto the gig you dragged him to and about the band. His second favourite thing about you was your willingness to unabashedly talk about your interests. Your job as an A&R at Sony meant you were always talking to him about a new band or artist. Before meeting you he wouldn’t consider himself someone who cared about music much. It was just something to help him keep pace while running. He didn’t understand why people liked it. But by watching you he started to dissect the reasons. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision, no grand realisation listening to a recommendation from you. It was a gradual shift. He started listening to more things, trying to pick out ones you’d like and he could send them to you. It was only after Wakatoshi had pointed out he was humming one day that he clocked the change went beyond just you.  

When you got to the venue, you flashed your Employee ID at security and pulled Kageyama in behind you.  It was just as dimly lit as the club but the smaller venue made it less obstructive. You had dragged him here before for a folk singer-songwriting you signed after the show. He had no idea what he was about to listen to but he knew if it was you, it’d be good. 

You led him to the middle of the standing-room area. You preferred a more central location so you could observe the artist’s dynamics and stage presence. While he would normally want to be on the outskirts, he didn’t mind being in the middle. It was crowded though so you were stood in front of him. Someone walked past and knocked you back against him. 

“Sorry!” You knew that he didn’t like physical contact much, so you created space as soon as you could. It pained him. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind if it’s you.” When you smiled up at him, he felt like he was going to short-circuit. “Who are we discovering today?” 

Another person bumped you into him, shifting your balance and almost causing you to fall. He wrapped his arms around you to stabilise you before he even knew what he was doing.

You muttered under your breath something about expecting better from the crowd here. “You remember Hozier?” 

He knew who Hozier was. You had forced him to listen to Hozier’s entire discography one day. He liked Hozier. In another world maybe he would be as good with his words as the singer was. He could write you poems and sonnets, tell you all the little things about you that made him feel right. As much as he might try now, he couldn’t so he hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him.

“Yes. You made me listen to his entire discography.” His throat felt dry. “I don’t believe I understood all the metaphors but he has a good voice.”

“Well, imagine Hozier if he was Japanese. And he blended traditional instruments, taiko drums and all that, with a raspy voice and great lyricism.” 

“I see.”  His gaze shifted, watching you adjust in his arms. He wondered if he should release you if he was supposed to have let go three seconds ago or held on longer. Now he was scared to move and make it weirder by moving.

“Sorry, should I let you go?” He was nervous, anxiety creeping, edging him out of the buzz he had from drinking earlier and into harsh sobriety. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m kinda cold and you’re really warm.” 

“Okay.”

The conversation between the two of you died down and Kageyama wanted to make a clone of himself and shake it around. What the hell was he doing? Under the dim lights, the first few chords starting to play, cradling you in his arms, he felt so nervous. 

The opening band started to fill the room with an instrumental. Their first two songs went by quickly enough at least. You would sway along, occasionally bobbing your head to the beat. Your eyes were focused on them as they performed. Someone might look over and think you were a long-time fan of the opening act, enraptured by their performance, but Kageyama knew you. You were appraising them, seeing if they had potential.

As their set drug on, he found himself watching you more than the band. Your brows would twitch, pulling together in the middle for a split second, every time they did something you considered to be a technical miss. You had told him that bands were like a team of volleyball players. 

When you explained it you said that singers were like aces. The powerhouse that made a team stand apart from their opponents. Drums were the setter. They set the tempo, and the flow, of the song Guitars were like hitters, driving down the point. Keys or synths were liberos, not always on the track but essential for making a good song, and basses were middle blockers, getting a perfect read and keeping the team grounded. So far it seemed like the band was winning their set. 

He liked watching you like this, seeing you the most in your element. It hurt his heart, made it tight in his chest from how your eyes darted across the stage. It felt like ripping off a bandage. Diving without a kneepad and your skin tearing on the polished floor of the court.  Like hand sanitiser in a superficial wound. Painful, but knowing that the pain was a sign of growth, of healing. 

The lighting changed, hues of pink and red, as the frontman started talking about their next and final song. He was telling the crowd to grab their lovers, pull them close, and sway along with the music. Kageyama nearly choked when you turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Well hello lover.” you giggle at the last word, joking about your relationship. While didn’t like the joking nature of it, he wanted it to be real, he liked you calling him it. Your fingernails scratched at the nape of his neck, tangling in the hairs there.

He had had too much to drink and feeling your chest against his own was making the blood rush from his head and straight to his groin. He felt like a teenage boy, unable to keep himself from growing hard. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he swore he could feel your nipples. 

His breath hitched as he went to respond, low and raspy in your ear. “Hello.” Kageyama wanted to say something better, more suave and flirtatious, wishing for a second that he could embody the same way with women Nicolas had. 

“How much did you have to drink?” 

“Not enough.” His cheeks were flush, he needed something in this moment. To pull you closer against himself or to push you away so you didn’t catch on to his growing hard-on. 

Your heartbeat against his own in the confined space, slower than his rapid one. The music drowned out, turning to background sounds as he stared into your eyes. Eye contact was normally so forced for him, constantly having to remind himself to make it. It felt so much more intense with you like you could see through him. He loved your eye colour and the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled. 

Your lips curled up into a smile as you gazed at him, coated in a shimmery gloss that smelt like vanilla. Your tongue poked out the wet your lips, something you always did when you needed to reapply the lip gloss. He wanted to know what it felt like against his own. If it was as sticky as it looked. If it’d pull into fine strands as you separated. 

“What are you staring at so intensely? I feel like you’re dissecting me.” 

He felt loose and sappy from the drinks earlier, more willing to take risks.

“You. I’m staring at you.” 

“Me?”

His eyes shifted up to meet yours again. “You.” You chuckled a little bit at him before replying. 

“Why?”

“I want to kiss you.” The words slipped out of him before he could stop them, once again putting his foot in his mouth. You were going to reject him, tell him off for violating your boundaries. He’d have to text Hinata tomorrow that he fucked up with you and that everything went wrong. 

“Kiss me.” The first time you said the words it didn’t compute in his brain. 

“Tobio, kiss me.” He stood frozen, short-circuiting, he had been so set on an outcome that a change in path threw him off.

The trance was broken when he felt your lips against his, sticky from the lip gloss as he imagined. You were soft, like a feather brushing across his kiss, gentle and tentative. When you pulled away from him it felt like he could breathe again. You tasted sweet, no doubt partially from the lip gloss but also just you. He wanted more.

Kageyama leaned in, one hand tentatively reaching up to the side of your face to cradle it. His lips met yours again it started with pecks, gentle like you had been, before building in intensity. It felt like Kageyama had been starving for years, the sensation unknown and accepted as just a part of living, but as your mouth opened and his tongue met yours he realised that his hunger, his craving, his desire, had been an aspect of himself so far removed from his understanding until this moment. He understood want and need now that he had tasted you.

The heat of your breath melting with his own made his nerves alight as you parted for air. 

“I’m in love with you.” Your forehead met his shoulder and you laughed. 

“Tobio I know,” it was like the lights in the room knew to shine down around you giving you a halo. “You’re not good at hiding it.”

“I’m sorry.”  You tucked your head under his chin and he let his hands slip down from your waist and into your back pockets, feeling emboldened by your actions.

You swayed with him to the beat of the song as the transition music into the main act’s set began. 

“If it’s any consolation I found it cute.” Your lips met the side of his neck and you tilted upwards to his ear. “I’m in love with you too.”

He joined you in shifting side to side, enjoying the moment as you murmured against his skin, voice warmth with honesty. He didn’t understand it all, but he understood you in this moment, the shared feeling of love between you. One old and ancient, but never weathered by time, still steadfast in its stature. Unending, unshifting. 

The “Japanese Hozier” stepped out onstage and Kageyama let you turn to face the stage, moving to take his hands off you only to find them being wrapped around your waist again, guided by your hands.  He wouldn’t remember the set list, or the singer's performance, too entangled in you and feeling you in all his senses to care about anything else. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You had brought him home after the show, still humming some of the songs as you puttered around. He had changed as you made a midnight snack for the two of you. His hair hung in clumped damp strands as he played sudoku on his phone waiting for you to finish up. You hated when he got in your way in the kitchen. 

With a plate full of mini pancakes you plopped down on the couch next to him, your makeup removed and hair up. He liked you the most like this, relaxed and human. Sometimes he worried you were an angel sent down from the heavens to make him believe in god but instead drove him to sin.

He took one off the plate when you moved it closer to him. Chewing on it slowly, watching you nibble on yours. 

“You wanna talk about it?” His eyes were peeled on your lips. 

“Only if you’re comfortable.” 

“I’m fine…” you moved and placed the plate on the coffee table. “Good, actually. Great even.”

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“I don’t know.” He felt so many things right now it was difficult to verbalise any of them.

You pulled your knees to your chest and faced him. A braid fell into your face and you tucked it behind your ear. Every time he looked at you he understood poetry and prose, songs of admiration, why men would go to war over their lovers. It was nonsensical, to think you could see stars in someone's eyes, but you reflected the lights of the room like a planetarium. He thought that he might die before he found the words to express his thoughts and feelings to you, to get his point across, but he knew with you he didn’t have to. He had never had to. 

His hand encompassed your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces, you the last piece needed to complete the puzzle. Simple connection, conjoining of spirits. 

Kageyama tugged on your hand, pulling you towards himself, making you come to rest on your shins in between his legs. He kissed the back of your hand, softly, tenderly, still afraid that there was something he was missing. But the ball never dropped, the tower never crumbled, and he led you further forward, your free hand resting at his chest before slithering up the back of his neck. 

He couldn’t tell if it was you or him who moved first, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting again. It felt more tentative than the first ones had. Careful and measured, aware of the space, the boundaries, the dynamic you had had. Of how that was shifting, changing, as the pretences you had were changed. 

Kageyama dropped your hand in favour of wrapping his around your waist, guiding you to manoeuvre into his lap. Your ass rested against his groin. The longer he kissed you, the more he felt himself growing hard, aided by your hips grinding down on him. Once on a night out with the team, you had danced with him and it was then that he learned of how fluid you were. Tonight you were water, dripping down on him, swirling around him, wetting his skin. 

He palmed at the waistband of the sleep shorts you had changed into, desperately wanting to remove them but unwilling to force you into something. You pulled away from kissing him to remove your shorts, left in just your underwear and oversized shirt. Kageyama quickly stripped off his shirt before kissing you again, this time letting it evolve into making out with you.

One of your hands moved to his lower abdomen, brushing against his happy trail, making him shiver. He felt you palm at his length through his sweats, slow and sensually. His dick was bigger than you thought it’d be. Average girth but one or two inches longer than expected.  

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” His response was quick, jumping the gun, eager to have you take him in your hand. 

When your skin met his Kageyama swore he might cum from it. His emotions were high-strung, making him more sensitive. He whimpered as your thumb crossed over the tip. 

Your hands felt like velvet against him, smooth and soft, your touch gentle but firm, supplying the perfect amount of pressure as you began sliding it up and down his shaft. His stomach muscles tightened as you went along, pulling him in on himself. It should be criminal that you made him feel such a way from something so simple, reducing him into a schoolboy being touched for the first time. 

He wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop your movements, separating from kissing you to speak. 

“I’m going to cum if you do that too much.”

“That’s the goal Tobio.” 

“Yes, I know, but I would like to make you cum before I do.” 

You gave a small smile, butterflies flitting around in his stomach as you did. “Well, who am I to stop you?”

You crossed your arms as you took off your shirt. When you changed earlier you must not have put on a bra. The curve of your waist he knew already to be temptation incarnate, but the swell of your chest would turn any many into a sinner. 

Your nipples were hard as they were exposed to the cool air of your apartment, small silver balls catching the overhead light. 

“You have your nipples pierced?” 

You cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tobio’s eyes were locked in, focused on the way the silver complimented you. “Yeah, I’ve had them for ages.”

“Can I touch them?” He wanted to pinch at your nipples and feel the cool metal beside them. Your nod was all he needed to do so. 

His touch was hesitant at first, afraid of damaging the piercing somehow. When he squeezed down harder on them he could feel the bars going through your nipples. It was interesting to him, the modification, he wondered what made you get them in the first place. 

As he pinched and twisted your nipples slightly, a soft whimper snuck out the back of your throat, going straight to his already painfully hard erection. 

If you were sensitive to this he wanted to know what it would do to you if he took them into his mouth. It was in the name of science that he did so, leaning forward and wrapping his mouth around your left nipple. 

The metal met his tongue, cold and sharp, constructing against the warmth of your chest. He was cautious not to use his teeth as he played with your nipple in his mouth. You gave out small moans and gasps, hips stuttering against his own, as you threw your head back. Ever since you had gotten them pierced your nipples were more sensitive than ever. 

Kagayema stared up at you. He wondered how he got so lucky in life. He’d have to go to the shrine on New Year with his mother to thank the gods for letting him have you like this. 

He wanted to make you feel more, to know his touch in ways you never had before. 

His free hand not ding at your waist trailed down your side, tracing the outline, as he dragged it down to your core. When he met your underwear, the fabric a simple micro-fibre, and slipped past it he was certain that he’d need to go to the shrine every holiday. You were wet, drenched even, allowing his fingers to slip through you easily. 

Kageyama was not a virgin, he’d had sex before and he was thorough with it. His thumb met your clot, going over it in slow circles, while his pointer and ring finger started to tease your hole. 

When he was able the press both fingers into you and pump them in and out of you, he released your nipple that he had ever so diligently been sucking on to swap for the other one. He bit down it ever so slightly making a shocked gasp and whimper of his name escape you. 

“Be gentle jackass!” Your speech airy, escaping as an exhale. 

It was cruel the way how you said his name made his dick jerk as if he was going to cum, the muscle in his abdomen flexing tight. He’d be dammed if he came before you though, his teeth grazing over your nipple again, tongue swiping over the bar. 

His fingers picked up in speed, pressing against a spot that made you squeak almost. High-pitched and short. Like you hadn’t expected him to hit it. 

The pressure building kept building as he did so, making you get lightheaded as it went on. He was so close to making you cum. Like an itch, you scratch just next to it, the edge. 

His thumb kept toying with your clit as he kept his pace steady, matching the tempo. You could feel yourself tightening up as he worked your body. The noises in the room turned pornographic as more liquid gushed out of you, lubricating his hand, making it easier for him to thrust his fingers in and out and in again. 

Kageyama detached himself from your chest and moved to kiss along the side of your neck and ear.

“You’re so pretty…” he trailed off before biting your neck and sucking hard to leave a hickey. 

You came with a start, the orgasm rolling through you as he bit down, his name coming out a broken moan. Your muscle winding right before snapping under the pressure, eyes screwing shut. It made your head spin, feeling your heartbeat in your skull and down to your toes. The force of it made you clamp down so hard on Kageyama’s fingers that as he tried to pull them out, he couldn’t. 

A minute passed before he was finally able to slip them out of you as you whined for him to keep them inside. When you finally opened your eyes you were met with Kageyams face being entirely red.

“You okay?”  You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

He licked his lips before speaking, trying to wet them. “I just came.” 

“Oh.”

Things were still for a second. 

“Is there, uh, anything I can do to help?” 

“No. Just give me a minute.” This was the most embarrassment he had felt in a long time 

“Okay.” You cupped his face with one hand. He turned a kissed your palm “We can stop here if you want.”

He contemplated for a few moments in his head, his boxer briefs now feeling sticky. The sensation was grossing him out no matter how badly he wanted to continue.  

“Tobio,” you flicked his forehead “Get out of your head, you’ve got that scrunched-up look on your face.” 

He grumbled against your palm as he spoke. “I like you and I’m embarrassed.”

“Well, I love you and we can always go for a second round.” 

He stilled, humming under his breath. “Could we shower first?” 

“Of course.” 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Out of the shower, where a second round had happened, along with telling you about the bet, Kageyama felt unsure of what to do next. It reminded him of leaving a court at the end of a game, his adrenaline high and heart pumping. The adjustment to reality was strange and foreign. He was sure this must have been how you felt after a concert ended. Lost, unsure what to do after as he cuddled with you in your bed. 

“What happens next?” 

You laughed and it shook your body as you lay on top of him, tracing patterns on his chest.

“You buy me breakfast in the morning.” 

“And after that?” 

“What about after that?” 

“Well,” you started. “We keep doing what we’ve always done. But when we go out to eat we don’t call it hanging out, we call it a date. When we sleep at the other’s place, we sleep in the same bed. Only the little things change between us, the big things stay the same and we get to kiss now. When an interviewer asks if you’ve got a girlfriend, you get to say yes.” 

“You’re my girlfriend?” 

“Well, I thought that was the point of the confession, well along with winning a bet, unless you don't want me to be?” 

“No, I do.” 

“Good.” 

It was silent for a moment as he intertwined his free hand in your own, bringing it closer to his mouth so he could kiss it. You settled further into him, filling out the space where he was the most empty both physically and metaphorically, humming ‘Like Real People Do’.

A Venmo notification cut through the peace. 

Nicolas Romero sent you ¥10,000 

“Atta boy Tobio” 

©️ uzuzrimisery

[ro-sham-no]

Sam dies again, shortly after being resurrected by Dean’s crossroad demon deal. It was an accident, just a hazard of the job. Dean couldn’t stop it. 

Dean goes crazy after it happens. He has no more soul left to bargain with. He goes numb.

He couldn’t care less about his inevitable, one-way trip to Hell, the moot deal that it now is. Nothing could be worse than this wretched hopelessness, the gnawing blackness that grows inside him with every passing moment. His thoughts plague him,

Is Sam even in heaven? After all the demons’ taunts about him coming back Wrong- had Dean doomed him, his baby brother, his son, his boy, to Hell?

Sammy's gone, and Dean’s soul is still sold, and it's so unfair-

Dean’s kept Sam’s corpse- Sam, he’s kept Sam, again. Has laid him out on a shitty, stained mattress. Again. He’s also laid out every single fireable weapon in their considerable arsenal next to Sam on the bed, all loaded. Every second that goes by, the itch to grab them gets stronger. 

He’s out of options. Trying another crossroads demon had done nothing. Frantic, useless researching about resurrection, which he’d already done the first time - nothing. Praying to god, for the first time ever, saying please, please, I know I’m fresh out of any sort of Grace, but surely you can see that He’s not. Sammy doesn’t deserve to be in Hell, please-

Nothing.

The guns on the mattress glare at him. All gleaming, metallic resilience, taunting him, sitting so starkly cold next to Dean’s dead baby brother. Dean’s hands haven’t given up their tell-tale tremor since it happened. Since Sam---

The tremor is one that he’s felt on and off throughout the years - only appearing on those not-so-rare occasions where Sam had taken hits just hard enough, gotten cuts just deep enough that Dean would have the Thought strike through him like lightning,

Sam might not come back from this one.

The end of Dean’s sleeve is soaked as it covers his trembling hand, what is probably snot and spit mixing in with more and more tears as he alternates between pitiful comforts. Wedging his shaking hands deep into the sockets of his eyes as he convulses through his sobs and cries, then shifting them to press tensely against his teeth through his lips, trying in vain to calm down and keep quiet, and then moving to his nose to wipe away the aftermath and start all over again.

Sam’s not coming back from this one. 

I failed. 

It’s over.

Dean abruptly stands, shoving and tearing the guns away, violently shoving his sleeve to his face to dry it, having to move up higher on his arm each time as his sleeves caught more of his heart leaking out of his eyes, nose, and mouth. He lets all but Sam’s beloved Taurus recklessly fall to the floor.

His stupid, beloved Taurus that the kid’d saved up enough money to buy for himself - all honest-earned money, after getting a grocery store job he applied for the second he turned 14. Cheap-ass Brazilian gun, Dad had called it with derision, but he’d let Sam buy it all the same.

Dean had thought, at the time, that Sam’s choice of gun was just because it was, in fact, affordable and non-American (Sam was never shy about his lack of patriotism, even when Dad gave him all the more hell for it). But he hadn’t caught Sam slipping away to pawn shops and military resale stores while Dad was away and Dean worked dead-end odd jobs to pay the bills like civilians for a while. But then Sam had found it, them, and then Dean had certainly noticed.

See, when Sam had first gotten the thing, it came with practical black grips. Factory standard, since Sam had wanted it new - forever a priss about owning something that wasn’t secondhand. But then, unbeknownst to Dean, Sam had searched high and low to find what he wanted, what he knew existed because he had seen it in a gun magazine once (he had frantically torn out the page as soon as he saw it, hidden in the back of the gas station and waiting for Dean to stop flirting with the cashier). So, Sam had saved up and played the long game, pawn shop after pawn shop, and it paid off.

He’d replaced the black grips - not speaking a peep to either Dean or Dad about it - with pearl ones. And sure, it wasn’t ivory, necessarily, and the stainless steel of the Taurus wasn’t exactly nickel-plated, but the effect was the same. 

Sam’s very first gun of his own, which he bought with his own, labor-earned cash, oh-so-clearly fashioned after Dean’s.

And now here it is, cradled against Dean’s chest. He’d crawled into bed with Sam at some point during his weepy recollection, resting his head on Sam’s chest in oppositional mimicry of how they would lay together as kids. Sam, curled up under Dean’s chin, forever trying to make himself smaller in Dean’s arms even as he grew bigger. 

But it’s Dean’s turn to be small. Dean’s turn, as he tugs Sam’s (cold, lifeless) arm over his back in a weak embrace, slipping his arm around Sam as best he can, squeezing and holding tight as he shakes apart. Sam’s Taurus is gripped surely in Dean’s hand, pressed under his chin. 

His Colt, after which the Taurus had been so lovingly, painstakingly fashioned, lies discarded on the ground.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

If they live in area with hurricane and tornadoes how do they react

I'll be honest: I have no idea how USA geography works. I'm a brazilian girlie, we don't have hurricanes or tornadoes, but my amazing partner unfortunately went through a hurricane or two and all I have to say is that Angel AND the toys have a very similar "what the FUCK is the weather up to now" reaction.

Angel first calmly explains to the group what a hurricane is - Miss Delight probably helps, cheerfuly doing a beautiful explanation for all of them -, then asks everyone to keep calm when the storm arrives. Reassures them everything will be alright but internally they're thinking "why the heck did I move from Brazil to here".

I like to think all the toys help Angel organize things pre-hurricane! Some toys go with them to the grocery store, others stay to grab blankets and prepare the electronics for the storm, Catnap and Prototype make sure to patrol the area and check with Miss Delight and Bubba for any possible damages to the house, etc. Angel is just a ball of stress because they're a parent but they can handle that.

Dogday, Picky, Bobby, Bunzo, Boxy and Kissy probably have the worst time. Dogday has excellent hearing and the whole situation makes him go "the world outside is ENDING even though it's NOT ENDING", while the others are just scared. Bunzo probably heard Miss Delight speaking about what hurricanes can do to houses and is just "what if..... What if the house FALLS APART.... And we all DIE????", poor baby. Kickin meanwhile is pretending to be all cool but he refuses to leave Dogday and Hoppy's side no matter what.

The other minis, small toys + PJ Pug-a-Pillar i think are a mixed bag of scared but not terrified like the previous toys. I hc most of the toys are between 13-19, so they are more chill and can come up with really fun ideas for games when the power goes out. Crafty and Mommy Long Legs come up with a lot of fun games to keep everyone entertained!

Catnap, Hoppy and Poppy are wary. They helped Angel set everything up, but Catnap still fears something will go wrong with their food. Hoppy is just wary in general, and Poppy fears something unexpected happening, but tries keeping her cheerful tone.

Huggy doesn't seem to mind anything but Angel has to tell him to NOT scare poor Bunzo.

Miss Delight and Bubba need to stay in the same room as everyone because there's a 50/50 chance they'll decide to go outside to "see it for themselves how the thing works". They're SO excited when it happens the first time!

Prototype, however, has to be allocated from his hut to the main house. Angel makes sure he's on his own confined room and covered head to toe in blankets because they're afraid he'll attract lighting. Catnap takes turns with Angel to check in on him, and when night arrives some of the younger toys rush towards Prototype because he's big and scary and will surely protect them from the storm (he can't but okay). Catnap sleeps next to the Smiling Critters in order to "protect" them (read: Dogday can't sleep so he keeps him company).

I like to think everyone sleeps in a big cuddle pile in the living room, after eating some snacks and Angel reads them a book. Miss Delight and Dogday help with making sure the youngest are asleep before checking in on Angel, who's half-asleep while Long Legs is using them as a teddy bear.

Overall I think Angel handles things pretty well when it happens! It feels better than dealing with THAT all alone. My Angel has a fear of floods, so you can imagine how stressful a hurricane or a tornado can be for them.

[seat-safety-switch]

Nowadays, it’s trickier than ever to pick good produce at the supermarket. Whereas our parents would have lived by an ironclad set of rules handed down to them by their parents, we have to deal with exotic new fruits like “papaya” and “orange” for which they have no frame of reference. Is this mango ripe? Will it ever achieve ripeness? Silicon Valley thinks they’re close, with a massively-wide thought array that consumes one acre of Brazilian rainforest every time it has to identify a pear, but until then the task will rely on us, the apes.

Luckily for us, we are equipped with a foolproof ability to ensure that we’re not buying mouldy produce: theft. If you don’t pay anything for the fruit, then even if it’s bad, you haven’t lost anything except for your time and pocket capacity. Throw that shit in your garden, a practice which civilization now calls “composting” instead of “littering.” Maybe it’ll make a plant, but even if not, your existing plants will know you mean business, furtively glancing over their metaphorical shoulders to ascertain your mood as they sup of the life essence of the one that failed you.

Even if you get caught, you can challenge the store security guard. No, I brought this acai berry from home. Show me where you sell these, if you’re so certain that I was shoplifting it. They won’t, and while they’re busy looking, you can book it out of there. Make sure to wear a disguise, and maybe keep your car running. It’s hard to tell if that dicky battery and dickier starter solenoid will allow it to restart if you leave it off for too long.

Why bother the risk of being banned from the grocery store at all, if common, everyday apples have been sustaining Western civilization for centuries? By far, the most important part of getting this exotic produce is so that you can brag to your friends when they come over. What, you haven’t seen a white strawberry before? What a fucking chump! That’s why I left you handcuffed to that train in Lyon and took off for that wild weekend, and not at all because I saw a Renault Twingo for a good price and didn’t want you to stomp all over my bid by trying to speak French.

[vanteguccir]

Ok, this was basically supposed to be a request, but your requests are closed, and I'm really anxious thinking about it, and I don't want to ask someone else for this because I want you to write it, so while your Requests are closed, I'll ask for your opinion

Let's assume that Chris is dating a Brazilian, but she's still learning English, she knows how to communicate well, but she still makes mistakes, changes words, pronounces something wrong, sometimes stutters, I'd like to know your opinion, how do you think Chris would help you in this situation? How would his reaction be to your silly and cute mistakes?

hi pretty!!!

I think he would laugh a lot, but not at you, he would just think it's funny how you mistake the pronunciation of some words or even invent words to something that, in your head, makes sense since it sounds like the word in portuguese, but it actually doesn't even exist, so like:

"Baby, can you buy me a... what is it called? Deadly?"

"Dead- baby, what?"

"You know that thing that we use with cheese, but it's not ham... Hm, it's like ham but with more fat?"

"Babe, do you mean mortadella?"

"Oh my God, so it's the same as in portuguese."

And he would start laughing too hard for your liking, almost falling when seeing your angry little face because of his reaction, but then he would for sure go to the grocery store and buy you tons of mortadella

I think he would help you a lot too, so when he sees you struggling with how to pronounce some words, he would say the word many times and super slowly until you got it right

Sometimes, when you want to say something in English, but you don't know how to, he would take his phone and go to Google Translate and put in Portuguese to English, he would give you the device for you to type it and then he would read the translation and be like "oooh, so you say it like this"

There's those times that you hear someone on the street or grocery store saying a word that you don't know the meaning, so you go to him and ask what it means and how you can use it. Sometimes, the words are crazy and obscene, and I imagine him blushing a little and feeling shy because he has to explain something like this to you, but he still would do it (or just ask you to google it 😭😭)

He would be SOOOOO patient and kind, even with the funny parts. He understands it can be hard to learn a whole different language, so he would be super supportive

I can see him going around the house and gluing little post-its on EVERYTHING with the name of each thing in English so you could learn while doing daily activities

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[honeymochibubbletea]

Goooood nighty night everynya!

Are you all okay? I hope so~!

So y’all may be familiar with this Oc that i showed on my recent post, right?

Isn’t he a cutie child~? (He doesn’t even look like he gives people trouble… hehehe~)

Let’s start with the basics, shall we?

Nykui is a Telltown Oc.

He’s 10 years old.

Nykui’s pronouns are he/him.

His height is 3’3 feet tall (please, if someone is reading my Ocs heights… have patience with me: i totally have 0 idea of how tall or short these are… just know that Oliver is shorter than the average height pattern for guys, Nykui is smaller than Oliver and Emilly is the tallest between them…)

He is surprisingly Brazilian despite the Japanese name, lol

His comfort zone: …his little hideout in the middle of the woods… (he has a treehouse… his bed is a grocery cart he managed to steal…) (and before you ask me how he managed to bring a cart up into a treehouse… he has his ways…); his comfort food: bungeoppang or bao; his comfort objects: a blankie and a small dog plushie; his comfort characters: . . .just any dad or mom figure he can look up to…; his comfort drink: ramune sodas (he likes collecting the bottles and shaking the little marbles inside, lol) and his comfort dessert: bolinhos de chuva aka cinnamon sugar beignet.

He may be very weak (considering he is a child), but he makes up the lack of strength with agility and witty ability.

He’s an orphan neko boy who never met his mother and his father died when he was 7… he absolutely LOATHES the idea of living in an orphanage thanks for the discrimination he suffered thanks for his heterochromatic eyes and… his mixed race…

His one and only phobia is… monophobia/eremophobia…

He is a little rascal and hellion: since he doesn’t want to be on an orphanage (he escaped two now), he lives inside the forest of the small town Telltown…

He only steals food or a few toys to entertain himself with…

His main goal is… to find someone who wants him…

Here’s some fun facts about Nykui:

Since he is a little troublemaker to most townsfolk, he doesn’t get along with Charlie… (she doesn’t do anything to jeopardize him… she only picks him up and takes him out of the store he was stealing from… or she grabs him by the back of his coat when he’s pickpocketing people… of course he scratches her good and run away as quickly as he can… and she only sighs in a disapproving manner…)

Nykui is very stubborn and easily tricked when you use the right words with him… he’s not naive, but if you offer what he craves most, you’ll mostly likely will have his attention…

Thanks to his cuteness and trickery, he can fool a lot of tourists that come to Telltown.

His best friend is Lena: she’s nice with him…

He also likes Oliver and Emilly: Oliver always offers him their house for him to sleep on cold winters and makes the best cinnamon sugar beignets when it rains :). And Emilly… even though she acts sometimes a little Tsundere-ish, she has a soft spot for the neko child… like secretly giving him some of the pastries of the cafe she works on.

I really like to think that Nykui managed to convince Carter, Charlie’s brother, to build the treehouse for him muehehe~ >:3

I’m going to post a “little” (may or may not be actually a long-ass fanfic but oh well) fanfic about his relationship with Phantasmo… i’ll leave you all in suspense~ Muahahaha! >:D

[transgenderer]

went to 5 ethnic grocery stores with my dad yesterday (asian, latino, african, indonesian, brazilian) and NONE of them had breadfruit. according to instacart hmart has it. maybe its because i havent been doing the chuuk breadfruit calling rituals...

[weirdplutoprince]

HOLY CHRIST YOURE THE BEST—

Okay, so I’m American and thankfully I live in an area with a lot of Mexican grocery stores near me, sometimes they have goods from South America too. What specifically makes Brazilian condensed milk the way it is?

Oh, yeah, I feel like you can find it there then.

I don't know!!! 😭😭 I've been repeatedly told it's different but because I have never interacted with the foreign one I don't personally know. I feel like if it's from a Brazilian market it'll be ok... If anyone knows and would like to say it here .. ?

I recommend either one of these but I don't know if they'll be in supply there lol

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Invisible Female Labor Is Worth at Least 8.5% of the Brazilian GDP, as Shown by Research

The care economy, which burdens women, was the topic of a national exam essay

Doing the laundry, hanging, folding, ironing, and storing clothes, sweeping the house, dusting, cleaning the floor and the bathroom, taking out the trash, organizing cabinets, watering plants, grocery shopping, storing groceries, cooking, washing dishes.

These are some examples of the care economy: a series of domestic tasks and efforts with dependents (children, the elderly, the sick, or people with disabilities) that need to be carried out so that everyone can produce and fulfill their role in society.

But there is a discrimination factor in this care economy: 65% of the work is done by women.

If computed, this effort would add at least 8.5% to the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) of the country, according to researchers from FGV Ibre (Brazilian Institute of Economics of the Getulio Vargas Foundation).

Continue reading.

[best-overplayed-song]

I think you are missing quite a lot of good overplayed rap. Also the realson ppl are so different on what is "overplayed" probably depends on culture, as a brazilian haven't heard too many, and even in America there is class and racial and geographic divides to what music people listen to unintentionally (like many black americans who haven't heard bohemian rhapsody reacting to it on youtube, and white americans calling them lying)

you're absolutely right about cultural differences impacting what type of music people hear on the radio and in retail stores. this bracket is centered around songs that are overplayed in america (specifically "80s, 90s, and today" radio stations and the music they play at chain retail/grocery stores), since that's where i live and i'm more familiar with popular music in the US than other countries. all teasing is lighthearted and in good fun. it's funny you mention overplayed rap songs because my partner who doesn't have a tumblr asked if i would run a best overplayed rap song bracket on his behalf, so if enough people like the idea, maybe i'll do it :)

[cedarxwing]

okok i’m so sorry for bothering you through here but like first of all YAY so happy to see someone also obsessed with hannigram in brazil lmao just love it so much and am glad other people like it too

when answering you i thought about feijoada too but was like nah it’s not Meaty enough but like i bet he would find some way to make feijoada way meatier jsjsksjskskksjsksk

but anyway i’m so sorry for asking but i kind of have to ask about you writing hannibal in brazil 👀 if it’s smth you don’t feel like showing or never posted i’m very sorry for asking and feel free to not answer this!!! but if you would like to share know i’d love it so so so much

anyway you got me too excited about this topic skjsksksks thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!!!

It's not a bother at all, are you kidding, I could chat about novel references forever! I see you're Thomas Harris's arch nemesis and I'm Thomas Harris's #1 simp, so I guess that makes us mortal enemies, but I'm glad hannigram in Brazil can unite us. ^^

This might be wrong, but I read that feijoada was made with pig feet, snout, ears, etc (I think to make the broth?) back in the 16th century, and I got obsessed with the idea of Hannibal using the human analogs for those.

I never posted what I wrote anywhere bc it's kinda cringe and unedited lol. The premise was post-fall, Will needs facial reconstructive surgery for his stab wound, like how Hannibal got his sixth finger removed in Rio de Janeiro after he escaped prison. Here are some Brazil-related snippets!

A rewrite of the Marcus Hotel scene from Silence of the Lambs (except Will is actually getting plastic surgery haha):

The doors of the elegant Hotel Marco in Rio de Janeiro slid open and hit Hannibal with a gust of air conditioning. He wore comfortable white linen and a Panama hat. His hair was an ungodly shade of bottle blond. A neat surgical bandage covered his nose and cheeks. Soft piano music drifted from the lounge. At the bar, Hannibal could see two people with bandages across their noses. A middle-aged couple crossed to the elevator, humming a Jobim tune. The woman wore a gauze patch over one eye. “Boa tarde, Sr. Wyman,” the concierge greeted him as he passed the reception desk. Hannibal nodded to him before joining the couple in the elevator. He set his bag of groceries down in the kitchen of the penthouse suite. The suite seemed luxurious to him after his long confinement. He enjoyed running his hands over the cotton bed comforter and the stainless steel fridge. After sorting the groceries, he indulged in a long shower. From the window, he could see across the street the premier clinic for craniofacial surgery in Brazil, where Will had recently undergone maxillary reconstruction and received a four molar dental bridge.  This was the one place in the world where Hannibal could walk around with a bandage on his face without exciting interest, and he’d taken advantage of that to make his first foray into the public since their flight to Rio. A short walk to the convenience store less than one block away. Voices laughing in Portuguese, and the buttery scent of street wagon empadas and brigadieros. Life pressing sweetly on him from all sides.

And later:

Will looked at the bacon fat heating on the stove. He spoke in hesitant Spanish, knowing Hannibal wouldn’t respond to anything else. “What do we have here?” After weeks of communicating using pen and paper, Will had made a reluctant return to speech, unfamiliar now to his damaged hard palate. Add to this the strain of learning a new language—rolled Rs were particularly painful for his stitched tongue—and he was perfectly happy to stare at Hannibal in silence for days on end. Each word Will spoke aloud, Hannibal knew, was a gift. “Farofa for feijoada, a hearty black bean stew of regional significance. I’ve made it before, but this will be my first time using authentic Brazilian sausage.” He’d been looking forward to it but was in danger of losing concentration with Will this close. He smelled of blood—from the butcher most likely—and forest underneath it. “You’ve been to Tijuca National Park again.” “Lots of tourists there,” Will said, as if in explanation.

(They're not staying in Brazil--that's why Will's learning Spanish instead of Portuguese)

Anyway, feel free to correct anything I got wrong! I've never been to Rio so I have literally no idea what I'm doing.

[inconsistentwriting]

Mission: Save the city.

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira x G/N reader.

Notes: English is not my first language. Random acquisition of baby. Part 1 of ?? If you show some support I might do a part two.

How did all of this happen? One moment I was clocking out of my shift at the hospital, walking home, and the next one was taking refuge in the deposit of a grocery shop. The streets of Raccoon City were filled with screams, fire and dead, or undead, to be more specific. I heard the metal curtain of the deposit being opened, a man’s voice calling out:

-”Is there anyone here? Any survivors?”

The fear was paralyzing, yet, my body moved on its own, coming into view for the man.

-”Over here.”

My words came out almost like a whisper, as if I hoped he didn’t hear me. But he did. He turned around and his eyes locked on mine. 

-”My name’s Carlos Oliveira, I’m working with the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. We’ve been sent to deal with the outbreak. Right now we are evacuating civilians out of the city. What’s your name?”

-”I’m ****. I work as an ER nurse and a first responder.”

-”I hit the damn jackpot, huh? Are you able to provide service given the appropriate supplies?”

-”Yes, I should be able to do so.”

-”Then let me take you where we are holding the civilians, we’ll need you to search for bite marks on them. If we don’t keep that in check they might infect other people.”

-”Where are you keeping them?”

-”The subway station, We are using the train to take them out of the city. Any cooperation you can offer will be welcome. I’ll take you there. Do you have any weapons?”

-”No, I just clocked out of work and I barely made it in here.” 

-”Don’t worry. Just stay close to me, I’ll keep you safe. “

I started to walk next to Carlos, his presence calming my nerves, only slightly, but better accompanied by an armed professional than alone out there. Not only was it terrifying because of the outbreak, it was terrifying because I had just arrived to the city less than a month ago. 

-”Do you have any family or friends in the city that may be in need of assistance?”

It sounded like he could read my thoughts. I looked up into his dark eyes and shaked my head. 

-”No one. I just moved in. Hopefully my family is safe very fucking far away from here.”

-”Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

-”I’m not from the States, I’m from ****. How about you? Oliveira doesn’t sound very American if I say so myself.”

-”Good catch. I’m Brazilian.”

-"So we are both immigrants that work difficult jobs in a country that hates us. Seems about right."

-"Looks like we are both a little bit on the masoquistic side, huh?"

At least he had a sense of humor, just perfect for the coping mechanism my brain just came up with. His voice cut off my thoughts. 

-”We’ll cut through this shop. Follow me and don’t make much noise.”

I nodded in response and moved quietly behind him. As we made our way through the building something caught my attention. A room, off to the side, its door was locked and a small group of zombies seemed to be pounding on it. I touched Carlos’ arm to get his attention and pointed to the room.

-”There may be a survivor trapped inside. Those things seem desperate to get in.”

Carlos nodded and looked around to make sure there weren't any others in the store before he took his weapon out and disposed of the group. Meanwhile, I entered the little room, it looked like the employee lounge. In one of the chairs there was a bunch of cloth, covering something. As I didn’t see anyone I turned to the door and started walking towards the exit, but I got stopped dead in my tracks by the sound of ruffling. I looked back at the pile of cloth and uncovered it. My jaw dropped as I saw a small baby inside, they didn’t look older than a couple of months. I gently picked them up and I noticed a photo next to clothes, upon further inspection I saw a woman with the same baby in her arms. It was one of the zombies Carlos took care of.

-”Oh my god, Carlos, you need to see this.”

The shock in my voice must have startled him because he walked over to me quickly. When he saw the baby in my arms it looked like he just took a punch to the gut. 

-”Why is there a baby in here? Where’s their mother?”

-”She was outside, one of the undead. Looks like she was bitten and she locked herself out before she could harm them… God…”

-”It’s okay, it’s okay. We just need to take them with the other survivors.”

His voice sounded like he was convincing himself more than me. I started to look in the pile of cloth and found a baby carrier. I started to attach it to my torso and placed the small baby inside of it. I also found a pacifier and a tiny plush toy which I put in my bag, we would need them later. 

-”It’s fine, we have to keep moving. Lead the way.”

My voice took Carlos out of his thoughts and he started to guide me to the subway station once again. We didn’t have many bumps along the way, just a couple of stray creatures. I sensed the baby starting to get fuzzy in the carrier, so I took out the pacifier and gave it to them to prevent them from crying. 

-”Did the photo or something say what their name was?”

-”The photo was written in the back, it seems like her mom left a message. I didn’t read everything but I think she called her Kiania.”

-”Kiania? Huh. In Brazil that name means “New Dawn”, maybe she’ll live to see another one of those.”

Finally we reached the subway station. There we were received by another man in a uniform. The commander of Carlos’ group. 

-”Welcome back, I’m the leader of the U.B.C.S. Delta platoon, Mikhail Viktor. Carlos reported bringing some civilians in.”

-”Not civilian, ER nurse and first responder, at your disposal. The name’s ****.”

-”That name… Did you work under the order of doctor Nathaniel Bard?”

My eyes widened a little at that mention. I know for a fact that dr. Bard had a contract with Umbrella, something had told me to walk away back then and I thought nobody else knew about my association with him.

-”Dr. Bard was one of the researchers in my hospital and I used to work for him, but I got transferred to another department.”

I wanted to cut any ties they may have on me. Something doesn’t feel right about these lines of questioning. Whatever problem Bard got himself in, I didn’t want any part of.

-”Do you know where dr. Bard may be right now?”

-”No, I don’t have any contact with him outside of my professional capacity.”

-”Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but the baby is getting annoyed, they both need to rest for a moment before getting to work with the rescued civilians.”

-”You are right, please rest a moment, there must be some baby formula somewhere around here. You can ask the civilians over there.”

-”Thank you sir.”

I walked over to some civilians who were nursing their babies. I managed to prepare something for Kiania to eat and I put her to sleep. Carlos approached me again. 

-”I have to head out, I’ll leave the parenting to you. It looks like you have it under control already. A natural, huh?”

-”Where are you going?”

-”We received orders to save Bard, he may have a way to combat the infection.”

My eyes widened and a flash of memories came to my mind. I looked up at Carlos and said:

-”There’s a vaccine. I know how to get to it.”

-”What?! What are you talking about?”

I quickly jumped from my seat and made my way to Mikhail. 

-”I know where dr. Bard is keeping the vaccine. Mikhail, if you promise to not let Umbrella have it, we can help this city.”

-”I’m sorry? Why do you think I don’t want to save this city?”

-”Don’t act innocent on me. Umbrella is up to no good, you guys are the reason this outbreak happened in the first place.”

-”You are a sharp one, huh? How did you know?”

-”Because dr. Bard had a really bad case of loud mouth. He wouldn’t stop bragging about how his research was financed by Umbrella. When Carlos mentioned he had an order to “save” the guy I realized, you were trying to get him into custody.”

-”A brilliant person like you was working under Bard? That seems like a waste. Fine, I’ll give you the chance. If you can retrieve enough of the vaccine samples for my whole platoon and an extra one to take for research purposes, I won’t hand them in to corporate. Only catch is, the U.B.C.S. can’t help you in an official capacity. You’ll have to do this on your own. Do you feel up to the task?”

A sudden surge of anxiety washed over me, for a second I looked down to the baby sleeping in my chest. For her. For her mother. For every innocent who died here. I looked up into Mikhail’s eyes with a serious face.

-”I’ll do it. I’ll get enough for it. How many men are in your platoon?”

Mikhail smiled, almost amused by my attitude.

-”As of now, there might be around thirty-five members alive.”

-”Deal. I’ll get those vaccines before you even get out of this hellhole of a city.”

-”Wait a goddamn minute. Are we really going to let them go out there all alone? Mikhail, you know how dangerous it is out there.”

-”I can’t order my soldiers to assist in this, it is not our mission. We were sent to get civilians out, and to take Bard in. Nothing more. We’ll be supplying weapons for them, but that’s the maximum I can do.”

-”You can’t really plan on risking yourself like that. You have to be crazy. Do you even know how to handle a gun?”

-”Can’t say I have the pleasure of practicing ranging often, but if my life is on the line I think I can manage it nicely enough.”

-”Why in hell would you do this?, you are risking your life here.”

-”I can’t leave this mess unattended if I have the opportunity to help. I’m a goddamn nurse, it’s kind of my job description. Besides, my life is at risk as long as I stay here. I might as well do something to help.”

-”Mikhail, you say there can be no official involvement in this, right? How about something unofficial? Just one of your platoon members who lost contact for a couple of hours and decided to help a civilian? Would that be on the table?”

-”I can’t allow you to do this Carlos, this is your job. You already have your orders.”

Mikhail interrupted me, looking directly at Carlos. 

-”If I lose contact with my platoon member, I could not give him orders, now could I?”

Great, he sided with Carlos. Now there is no way I’ll be able to take him off my back. 

-”Then, where should we start looking?”

-”We’ll have to go to the hospital where Bard and I worked. There are some parts that had restricted access, but I don’t think the dead would mind If we took the keys. First we should head to dr. Bard’s office, he may still be in there. He could help us get to the vaccine. Though you should probably leave behind the Umbrella logo, it’ll scare the crap out of him.”

-”What about Kiania? We can’t take her with us. It’s extremely dangerous.”

-”I’ll ask some of the survivors who have children to take her with them. we’ll reunite with them after everything is settled.”

-”Good idea. I’ll be waiting upstairs when you are ready.”

-”Actually, wait right here. If we use the subway rails, we’ll get there faster and safer.”

Carlos nods and stands there, talking with Mikhail while I go talk with some civilians to find someone to care for Kiania as we go. A woman and her partner promise to take care of her. After I give them all of her stuff I get close to her little face and kiss her on the forehead, she giggles and I feel my heart sink, a horrible feeling creeps up my back. I promise Kiania that I’ll get back to her, and just like that I turn around and make my way to Carlos. I signal him to follow me and start walking through the subway rails.

-”We’ll get back. You’ll see her again, I promise you that.”

How did he know what was on my mind? 

-”I sure hope so. After losing her mom she needs someone there for her.”

-”I know how you feel. You just want to care for her, don’t you?”

-”I never thought I could feel this way. I used to say I was scared of being a parent. It’s difficult to make a good one when you don’t know how one should behave.”

-”Difficult home life?”

-”Let’s just say I don’t remember ever enjoying a hug my parents gave me. That should say everything there is to know.”

-”I won’t press ya.”

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes. Then, he spoke up again.

-”What’s the plan for when we reach the hospital?”

-”First thing. Prepare yourself for hell out there. If there is a place in this city that will be filled with those monsters it will be that hospital. Second. Doctor Bard’s office is on the second floor. We go in, see if he is still alive and get him to take us to the vaccine. He may even have a couple samples in there. If not, we’ll have to look for the keycard that opens the restricted deposit. It’s the only place where any of this may be hidden.”

-”Does the office have any security measures?”

-”Voice recognition. If we are lucky they still didn’t take me out of the system.”

-”Let’s just hope so.”

-”Alright. This is the station where we go back upstairs. Are you ready for this, Carlos?”

-”As ready as I can be.”