#and that’s literally my home country. but like the prices are already so low ??

[gwyoi]

I think it’s really stupid to haggle at markets as a person from the global west going to poorer countries like idgaf….? it’s 6 bucks that’s a steal of a deal for you and who cares if it’s priced up because you’re a tourist. now I guess I feel differently if it’s an insane amount like a taxi from the airport costing $100 but if you’re getting a good deal in your currency why not take it …

[hunterbunter3000]

OH LORD MAMA TAKE THE WHEEL THISNIS MY LAST ONE.

imagine the boys just got back from a mission and when they enter the base, they found sweetheart cooking their country food for them. The taste is giving ✨SEASONED✨, its giving ✨you want me to marry you✨, its giving ✨that type of food that added 10 years to your life span✨, ITS GIVING ✨YOU DID A VERY GOOD JOB AND IM PROUD OF YOU✨

NOOOO NEVER STOP THESE I SWEAR YOU'RE JUST FINE 😍😍🫂🫂 these give me life you have no idea miss roro💕

(@missroro ROROOO GURL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER😭😭 PLS FORGIVE ME I WAS SHADOWBANNED AND THEN OTHER ASKS KEPT POURING IN🧎‍♀️this is quite long, so hopefully you will take that as a sacrifice for my tardiness 🙏I hope you're doing well! I miss you LOTS 💓)

BUT UGHHH GOD

And the FACT that I already have a scenario that's kinda like this blows my mind 🤯🤯

When Sweetheart wasn't needed for this certain mission, she said "aight bet. I know yall are gonna be so damn tired and hungry so watch this WORK."

(Idk if you wanted Sweetheart to cook her home food, or cook their country meals, so imma do both 💀)

Her home-cooked food:

When Task Force 141 came back to the base they smelt that SEASONING IMMEDIATELY LIKE--

Gaz: Something just happened.

I know he's the FIRST to book it to the living room, and then he sees the PLETHORA

GRITS, SWEET YAMS, MAC AND CHEESE, CHICKEN, HAM, GREENS AND OX TAILS, CORNBREAD-- ALL THE GOOD SHIT YOU CAN THINK OOOFFF

Gaz squeals (LITERALLY SQUEALS) cause he's been wanting to taste her cooking.

(He's always asked about African-American cooking since he grew up with British cooking. Sweetheart told him the goodness and he's been hooked on it ever since)

Everyone else comes in and sees the table and they're just in shock

Like what the hell- how long did it take you to make all this?? I love you???

It felt so domestic, like coming home to a home cooked meal after getting off work and seeing your wife smile at you saying "welcome home, dear!"

Sweetheart is just beaming at them, saying "I know yall have been through hell, so have a lil' piece of heaven!" (She's so CHEESY) the mother in her comes thru, telling them to take showers and get situated first then come eat.

WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THEY B O O K E D IT TO THE MENS SHOWERS TO GET CLEAN-- GHOST PUSHED ALEX AND SOAP INTO A WALL SO HE CAN GET THERE FIRST (König and Price were already in there LOL they're witches I swear)

They were done so quickly Sweetheart had to check if some of them were actually clean

Sweetheart: Suds?

Soap, flushed: uhm, yeah?

Sweetheart, eyes squinting: Did you wash yo' ass?

Soap:

Soap: Yes...?

Sweetheart: GO GET CLEANED

Soap: BUT FOOD--

Sweetheart: G O

(Alex and Gaz low key laughing at him and Price is disgusted that Soap sometimes doesn't wash his ass)

They all finally sit down and they just enjoy the warm feeling in their chests while looking at the food. Sweetheart turns on some r&b music (is this a black 80s BET movie? MAYBE) and she walks to the edge of the table, eyes are filled with love and pride for her team. "Aight, I'm gonna keep this short and simple cause I know all yall are hungry and tired," she starts. The team sit on every word she says, as they always do. She smiles. "I'm glad you all made it back safely. Successful mission or not, I will always be proud of all of you. I love yall."

She's too good for them, man. Wtf

They all just fell in love with her more AHA

So she sits down and the chatter and clatter begins. They all moaned so much when they ate the food 💀💀

(They all went into a food coma and had the BEST SLEEP EVER)

--

(If she made everyone's food from their culture) (I put my whole ass into this wow)

When SAS and Los Vaqueros trudged through the hallway, they heard a clang and a yelping "Ow! Son of a-"

Price and Ghost look at each other before picking up the pace towards the kitchen. "Sweetheart? Are you -" Price freezes when he sees the kitchen filled with different types of food. " - Okay..."

"Oh fuck-- Hey! Yall are back already! That's wonderful." Sweetheart nervously laughs as she wipes her hands on her messy apron. The others start to come in, not expecting the different dishes on the counters. She squeals, "Nah uh! Don't come in here! Go and get cleaned now, all of you!" They stare at her for a bit until sprinting to the Men's Showers. Shouts and loud bangs from falling tact gear are heard, making Sweetheart chuckle and shake her head. Once the men came back to the kitchen, she was gone and so was the food. "In here!" She yelled. Soap made it first to the dining room and let out a big gasp. On the long, make-shift table sat a multitude of different foods and drinks each man recognized from their home country.

"Oh, mo leannan, this looks barry!" Soap exclaims.

"In English, Mactavish." Ghost mumbles, making Soap kiss his teeth. "This looks wonderful, St.! I'm- how did you--" Sweetheart shushes him, Soap still smiling ear to ear. "Don't ask questions! Just come sit down and get your plate."

They all grab a plate and utensils with rushed steps and big smiles.

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

Price, Ghost, and Gaz sat at the end, where they all recognize the things to make Bangers and Mash. Shepherd's Pie and Fish and Chips could be found on all their plates with a side of Barm cakes. Their dishes melt in their mouths, dragon breathing at every bite since it was still hot. Ghost had a feeling in his chest that he felt extremely warm and overwhelming. He didn't think she would make something like this for him. "How're yall enjoying it?" She asks behind Price. "Umberweivable!" Gaz spouted out, a disbelief and amazed look on his face. Sweetheart laughs at him, "Hopefully, that meant unbelievable!" Gaz nods quickly with big food-filled cheeks. "Absolutely amazing, Princess." Price says after taking a swig of homemade Ginger Beer. "Haven't had Shepherd's Pie and Ginger Beer in so long. Good run down memory lane." Price smiles with soft and grateful eyes. Sweetheart snorts out a laugh and taps her cheek. Price raises an eyebrow until the embarrassment creeps in. He grabs his napkin and wipes the food that was stuck to his cheek. "I'm glad you like it, Cap! It was so hard finding an easy recipe for that damn beer." Sweetheart grumbles, looking at the kitchen with furrowed eyes and hand on Price's shoulder. He leans into her touch and sighs. "All in all, thank you." He murmurs, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on it. Sweetheart giggles, ignoring the heat coming from her hand. "You're very welcome!" She moves to Ghost, who has been quietly shoveling food in his mouth. "Hey Ghost! Are you--" Sweetheart stopped when he looked up at her. Eyes big with tears running down his flushed, stuffed cheeks. His eyes tick away from her changed face. "What...?" Simon whispers. She gives him a soft smile as one of her hands wipes off his tears. He didn't even notice the tears falling... "You enjoying the food?" She asks softly. Oh, that tone. That tone she uses only for Simon. He shivers, nodding his head slowly and then laying on her hip. She coos, wrapping her hand around his head while giving him head scratches to calm him down. You're alright, Simon. She's saying through her touch. Enjoy yourself.

Soap was practically vibrating in his chair when he saw a pitcher of Scottish Ale next to a big pot of Cullen Skink and an array of Scotch Pies with small Bacon Butties on the side. He did a double take when he saw a dish filled with Stovies and fried cut potatoes. Just how he ate it when he was younger. He lets out a disbelieved laugh as he reaches for it. "St.!" He calls out to her. She comes over with a worried look. "Wassup Suds? Everything okay?" He looks up at her with glassy eyes and a smile, nudging the Stovies. Sweetheart snickers, "I told you I would make it! I remember you tellin' me that your...màthair? Or-- mudder- damn I forgot how to say it-- but ya mom use to make this for you! So I looked up a recipe and may have added some of my extra spice to it." She explains as she whispers and laughs that last part. He can't believe that she remembers that. He told her that when he met her; telling her all the different Scottish cuisines. "I hope it tastes good..." She mumbles to herself. She cares. Soap grabs his spoon and collects some of the dish. She cares so much. Memories going through his mind when he chews it. She cares too much. "It's delicious." Soap whimpers out. Sweetheart smiles as she bends down to hug him. "I'm glad you like it."

Alejandro exclaims loudly when he takes a bite of his abundantly covered Elote. Rudy chuckles at him, taking another big ladel of Pancita and putting it in his bowl. "Hey guys, are you- WOW," Sweetheart yells. "You guys really ate almost everything! The Tamales and Flautas are gone..." Alejandro hums as he swallows. "So is the Ceviche and the Pipián." They both laugh at Sweetheart's surprised face. "Yall were hungry!!"And we still are, mama!" Alejandro snickers, taking more bites of his corn. "Mi flor, how did you make some of these dishes? And by yourself?" Rudy asks. He's so proud of her. He feels like he's back at home. "Oh, I had some help! Kinda-- some of the rookies helped me make the dishes! But then I kicked them out cause they were getting on my nerves." Sweetheart said, making the men laugh. "I knew you were a good cook. You would make a good wife someday, Sweetheart!" Alejandro shouted out as he smiled. Her shy laugh made him feel warm, but he wants his statement to come true.

König wanted to cry. He hasn't seen such a big pan of Tiroler Gröstl in a while. A basket of Kaiser Rolls is next to some Kasnocken and a pot full of Potato Gulasch. He scratches the brown hood he has on. Sweetheart made it for him so he could wear it when he's on base, since his other one was stinking up the joint. He watches Krueger take a big bite of his food and gulp down his drink that tastes like Almdudler. He's also wearing a hood that Sweetheart made for him; light blue fabric and handmade yellow stars scattered around it. It's scrunched up to his nose, his scarred lips still munching on his roll. He seems to be enjoying himself. König hasn't eaten with Krueger ever since they were kids. The impact on Krueger's actions in the past really changed everything for König and the family. But at least they're bonding in silence. "Hey, you two! Enjoying the food?" Sweetheart asks. Sweetheart. "Yes, meine kleine Göttin. It's very tasty." Krueger compliments her. She giggles, but it's cut short when Krueger grabs her arm and kisses her cheek. "Thank you for this wonderful feast, my love." He whispers in her ear with a smirk. Her mind goes blank for a moment, the heat of the kiss still searing on her brown skin. König grips his fork hard, turning his knuckles white. She sputters and then loudly laughs. "Yeah! No- no problem! I uh, König? How you uh, you enjoying the food?" He looks down at his plate, still quite full of food, yet not feeling like eating any of it anymore. König smiles with his eyes. "I am, Schatz. Thank you."

Horangi was enjoying himself to the fullest. Slurping down some Jajangmyeon with korean fried chicken and Kimchi fried rice with an egg. It reminds him so much of his mother's cooking, and when he didn't receive any Valentine's Day gifts so he would eat the noodles on Black Day. He blows on the noodles, the steam fogging up his black sunglasses. He wishes his past choices didn't bring him to this point. To be reminded of what he had, and now it's gone. He drank some of his soda, causing a big burp outta him. "You seem to be enjoying it, Horangi!" But without all his choices, he wouldn't have met her. He chuckles, covering his heavily scarred smile with his hand. Her warm hand snakes around his, gently pulling it down. She wants to see his smile. Her eyes sparkle at seeing his half-uncovered face. He's so pretty... "You like the noodles? M'sorry if I got the sauce wrong, I think I forgot some ingredients--" Horangi shakes his hand up. "No, no! It's perfect. The black bean sauce is amazing. I almost finished the whole pot." He's extremely impressed by her, but the cold feeling in his spine is wanting him to put the mask back on. Sweetheart squeals and claps, "Oh wonderful! I'm so glad you like it! By the way.." She leans down to hug his frozen form. "I hope to see your smile again. It's very pretty." She says. He is not grateful for his past choices, but he is grateful for her.

Alex and Roach enjoy their food in comfortable, happy silence. Alex hasn't had a decent cheeseburger since his leave. He dips a crinkle cut fry in ketchup, while Roach enjoys a big Maine Crab Roll. He's never tasted one before, but he always has, ever since Sweetheart gave him a postcard with the Roll on it, it's been his dream to taste one. "Yo, Alex! How's the burger?" Sweetheart asks, walking up to the both of them. Alex hums with a smile on his face. "You can't go wrong with a cheeseburger unless it's from a dirty bar." Sweetheart laughs, "Amen to that! And you're you doing, Gare Bear? Ya like the roll?" She asks sweetly. Roach can feel his face heat up from the nickname. He puts it down, finally taking breaths from horking it down non-stop, and putting two thumbs up. Her bright smile made both of them feel warm inside.

Graves sighs. His bones and joints hurt so damn bad. That mission with everyone was successful but it always costed some type of labor pain. He went to his dorm, already clean and changed into casual clothes. He could've sworn he heard laughing on the other side of the base... It didn't matter to him. All he wanted to do was to sleep off this pain. He notices a big plate covered in tin foil and a small note plus a coke-a-cola on his door mat. His eyes scan down the hall way with confused brows. Is he being pranked by one of his shadows? He better not be, he doesn't have the patience for it- Oh it's from Sweetheart. Wait- "What?" Graves mumbles, eyeing the messy note. The note reads:

Hey Graves. Congrats on the successful mission

Made you some dinner cause I'm pro proo pri PROU FUCK proud of you. That is the only time I'm gonna say that to you and it's not even in person. Doesn't matter, enjoy the food

Sweetheart ♡ (p.s. you still an asshole and NO I did NOT put laxatives in your food this time)

He huffs out a chuckle with a wobbly smile. So she does care for him. In a-- weird, hateful way. He walks in his dorm with food and drink in hand and opens the tin foil, the smell of barbecue baby back ribs, steamed carrots, buttered rolls and mashed potatoes fill his nostrils. His mouth waters immediately as he sits in his desk chair. He digs in with the utensils that Sweetheart gave him, his mind immediately going to his repeated fantasy about having a family with Sweetheart. Her, serving him a big plate of food with their baby boy on her hip. She kisses Graves's forehead and situates their son in the high chair before she starts to eat as well. A happy smile works on his face, not feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. A happy family. "It's delicious..."

- 𓆩♡𓆪 -

After Dinner Bonus!

"Hey, no one go ANYWHERE! Yall are helping me clean all this shit up!" Sweetheart points out with a frown. Soap laughs, "Of course, hen! Why wouldn't we?"

"You did a lot for us, Princess. We'll take care of everything now. Go and take a load off." Price says close to her. Very close to her. "Nah, I can help!" Sweetheart pushed. "Your shoulder has been bothering you, hasn't it?" Ghost said, making Sweetheart flinch. "Why you gotta call me out like that, man?" Sweetheart whined. He was right, though. She's been rotating her left shoulder from time to time, playing it off every time one of the boys asked about it.

Alejandro laughs, placing his hand on her hip. His thumb doing small circles on her thin clothing. Rudy and Krueger strolled towards Sweetheart. Rudy wore a soft smile, yet his eyes told a different story. A more mischievous story. Alejandro's voice dropped an octave, making a hot jolt spike through Sweetheart's spine. "Come now, mama. I know just what to do to help you relax."

°.Reblogs are highly appreciated.! Thank you for your support everyone!!

[crescentsteel]

Just Friends - Part 10

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo, model fem reader genre: fluff, smut, slow burn, angst  word count:  7k

A/N [More at the end]: 

I reviewed and edited Chapters 1 and 2 a bit because I kinda cringed at the errors and my writing was wonky (more than it already is now). No plot changes don't worry.

Thank you for all those who read this, especially to those who took their time to comment and feedback. It meant the world to me who stayed up later than usual and poured my heart out on this.

Part 9 || Epilogue || m.list

You instantly snapped your head up with expanded eyes. Despite the sternness his voice contained, you saw the delicate swirl of complex  emotions in his eyes, one that you haven’t seen him display before. You saw how the contrast of heartache and relief graced his features. 

“I love you, y.n.”

The quietness gave way for you to hear every single word he said. It was gently uttered, but firm on what it meant. 

It was almost magical, if not for the perplexity which came with that statement that enshrouded everything else.

As if the universe agreed with you, another set of lights landed on both of you, popping the enchanted bubble you two were in.

“Let’s go. We need to talk” He moved his hand from your waist to the back of your shoulder and guided you to his car. Still unable to regain your calm from what just happened, you absent-mindedly followed him and went inside the passenger’s seat.

“My place or yours?”

His question made you buck yourself up to the present again. It was the question that started your indecent affairs with Kuroo, and now he’s using it to settle what branched from said affairs.

“Did you really just ask me that?” You were unable to refrain yourself from retorting.

“What?” He asked back even though his eyes had a tender playfulness to them. He clearly knew what you meant but wanted you to elaborate for his entertainment.

You just rolled your eyes and ignored it. “Yours.” You weren’t playing his game. You just rather resolve the issue at hand somewhere not in your place. The last time’s conflict left you feeling vacant when he walked out the door and you stayed there with gloom lingering on every space of your place. You couldn’t do anything because it was your home. You just let it evaporate on its own.

In case things go South like they always do, you wouldn’t want to worsen the state of your already sullied abode. 

So you let him start the vehicle and drive off.

“I really thought you were gone again,” he broke the fragile silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I went to your place and they told me you left. I assumed you flew somewhere insanely far away for the second time.” All the involute sentiments he was carrying a while ago dissipated. He’s back to his laid-back self.

“Why would you think that?”

He sneered as his eyes flashed with bitterness even as he stared at the road. “Cause that’s what you do, kitten. You run away when things get too inconvenient for you.”

What could you say to that? 

Nothing. He was absolutely right. 

You tried to prove to yourself that you weren’t a spoiled rich brat by working your butt off, but it was never too difficult for you. You worked hard, but everything went smoothly like how you wanted them to. 

But with Kuroo, everything was in shambles. And in every chance you had to make things right with him, you chicken out. You blamed external factors such as timing not being right or other people were in the way. But you always had your chance. You just despised the fact that you had to cross certain barriers to move forward with your relationship with him. You wanted things easy. 

Before you left, you really believed that you wanted to confess to him just to get some clarity on your relationship. So why did you stop talking to him at all? If that was your only goal, you could’ve talked to him the morning after. But you didn’t. Because you didn’t like the pain of facing him again when he was messing around with women other than you. So instead of facing it head on, you ran away. 

It was the same when you confessed dead drunk and forgot the next morning. You were scared that he didn’t feel the same way, so you took the safe way out. 

And when it was becoming too much again, you were tempted to do the same exact thing you did ago: remove all the complications in your life by getting away from the source of it - Kuroo. 

With your mind flooded with realizations, you didn’t notice that you arrived at his place already. 

At least that was what you thought because he stopped the engine, but the neighborhood wasn’t familiar to you.

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“My place. Duh.” He answered before getting out. It was sarcastic, but it cheered you up. He was back to how he used to treat you before the drunken fiasco. It was just three weeks but it felt like you haven’t heard his taunts far longer than that. That’s how much you missed him.

You followed him and stepped out of his car as well. He must’ve moved out just recently, probably when you weren’t talking much, or else you would’ve known. 

“Glad to know you moved out of that dump.” Even with the current situation, you couldn’t just stay quiet when your mind instinctively thought of something to get back to his snarky remark. 

“Dump, huh?” He was looking at a certain building that you surmised was where his new apartment was. He scoffed before looking at you.

“Wonder why you agreed to let me fuck you in that dump though.” His grin spread wide enough that his teeth showed, clearly pleased with how he handled your usual battle of sarcasm.

You veered from his playful gaze and pursed your lips from the lack of a good response to bring down that haughty smile of his.

You regret ragging him on. You should’ve just stayed quiet. 

“Can we go inside now? It’s cold” You changed the topic being the loser that you were. 

“Come on then.” His satisfied smirk was still on his face knowing that he won that quick exchange. He waited for you to go to his side, then started walking towards the building.  

When you came back to the country, you thought it was odd that still stayed in his previous place. You were positive that he could afford to get a nicer one. Now it made sense. He was saving up for this. 

While heading to his unit, you could tell from the interior and the exterior of the building that the price of the place was above average. 

Inside the elevator, there was only you and him. He was about to press his floor number, but his hand stopped mid air before putting it down again.

“Wanna guess what floor I’m in?”

“And if I get it wrong?” He didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know where he was going with it. It was one of your gambling games. 

“You owe me nothing but the truth tonight.” Your bets were fun and the stakes were always petty but the weight of his stare let you know that the intent behind it was nothing compared to your previous wagers. 

He would demand nothing else but the truth from you when you two start to talk about the issue at hand. 

You found it strange. Of course, you would be honest. That’s the point of the conversation you’d be having when you reach his unit. 

But since he was acting like candor was of great worth to get from you, you’d ask for something of similar value. 

“If I get it right, I’m getting your Nekoma jersey. The one with No.1 on it.”

He was obviously taken aback from what you asked for. “Why that?”

“Why not?” You immediately asked back. 

He looked at the numbers on the side of the elevators while he scratched the roof of his teeth with tongue. 

“I changed my mind. I want all of them.”

“Huh?!”

“The odds aren’t right. There are 40 floors and the chance of getting it right is only 1/40. If you’d think about it, I’m even being generous.”

He clicked his tongue, acknowledging that your point was valid. “Deal.”

You instantly responded without even thinking twice, “22.”

You wished you could’ve captured his reaction. 

“You were already eyeing 22, dumbass. Your hand literally stopped in front of that number.” You shook your head as you snickered from that tiny victory, letting it take some of your tension away. “Say goodbye to your jerseys tonight,” you added. 

He usually won’t make such a mistake during your gambles. And because he did, you worked out that he must be distressed too. 

“Fuck.” He cursed then pressed the button you just said.

“Ugh fine, you can keep one.” You felt bad cause you even though the probability of you winning was low, the stakes for you were basically a given. 

The way on his unit was spent arguing on why the deal should be void because it wasn’t really a gamble since you already knew the answer. 

On his doorstep, you both hastenly arrived at a compromise of getting only his captain’s jersey, knowing that the inescapable confrontation is about to take place.

When he opened the door, it was nicer than you expected. It was modern looking with its minimalist interior and gray, black, and white tones. Your place was bigger but this looked more spacious because there weren’t unnecessary furnitures. 

The click of the door brought you back to why you were here. All the monkeying around a while ago was just a prelude to this and any impact it had on you was diminishing by the second. Things were about to get serious. You could feel anxiety crawling back to your skin. 

You didn’t wait for his hospitality and sat yourself on the couch. 

He immediately went after and sat beside you. 

You shook your head. “No.”

“What?” A frown creasing his forehead from the ‘no’ that came out of nowhere. 

“Don’t sit near me. It makes me uncomfortable.” It might have been rude, but you just had to say it. You want your mind working functionally so you can’t have him anywhere near your personal space. 

Instead of getting offended, he eyed you with consideration before standing up. He got a chair from his dining area and sat a good few steps away from you. He crossed his legs and arms. 

“So?” He proceeded, imploring you to be the first one to open the conversation that was suspended by the vehicle earlier. 

“What do you mean ‘so’?” You laughed sourly. “You’re the one supposed to explain things. Do you expect me to just accept what you said a while ago?”

He threw you a questioning look. “Is it really that hard to believe?” “You avoided me for weeks. When I tried to make up with you, you brushed me off cause you were seeing someone else. So my apologies for being so skeptical,” your last sentence full of uninhibited scorn.

“Who said I was seeing her? She’s just a volleyball player I’m working with.” If this was a normal conversation, he’d definitely have some snide comments to go along with it. But he didn’t swerve to his usual smugness. He remained pensive.

You couldn’t think of a decent reply except for an timid “Oh” that came from your mouth. You’re reassured that it wasn’t like that, but it was overpowered by the shame brought by your incorrect assumption.  

He didn’t wait for you to recover as he asked right away, “Why did you ignore me after that?” 

But despite the embarrassment, your brain was still running its engine properly. So you skillfully evade his query. “You still haven’t told me why you avoided me prior to that.”

He puffed a heavy breath. “I didn’t know how to get back to that friendship bullshit that you wanted so bad.” He uncrossed his legs and slouched with his elbows on his thighs. “Now answer my question,” he commanded.

“Well.. I didn’t want to intervene with whatever or whoever it is you’re busy with,” you said a bit too quickly without explaining further. “My turn again,” you continued on/

“No. I addressed two things from you so it’s still my turn,” he firmly asserted.

You were about to retaliate but he beat you to it with his own question. “How many times have I made you cry?”

It was an abrupt one that wasn’t in line with the previous questions that preceded it. You flinched from how it hit that certain memory you thought you moved on from.

“Never. What gave you that idea?” You denied as fast as you could. He didn’t have to know that insignificant detail. ‘It doesn’t  matter’ you told yourself even though you knew it was your pride that wouldn’t let you answer truthfully.

You’re glad to have won the bet earlier. Even though you thought you were going to be completely honest, there were just some details that need not be known.

Heated stares replaced words as both of you waited until the other withdrew. He was glaring at you, looking for an ounce of deceit. Too bad for him though because you have no intentions of folding. 

You arose the winner when he’s the first to concede as he straightened his posture from slouching. He leaned back on the backrest of his chair and sighed exasperatedly. 

“Man, I’d like to complain, but I guess your tenacity is one of the reasons why I fell for you.”

You were doing so well but with what he just said, your heart is back to the mess it was when he pulled you to him and said he loves you for the first time.

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” His smug grin back to its former glory, making you even more flustered than you already were.

“How can you say things like that so indifferently?” You voiced out, irritated at how he’s so relaxed while youre all wound up.

“Look. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut ever since you came back. Now that it’s out in the open, I’ll say it as much as I want to.”

Did you hear him correctly? He said ‘since you came back.’ When exactly did he start having feelings for you? 

“What do-”

“Hold it right there. You don’t get to ask anything yet since your last answer was a lie.”

You groaned. He shouldn’t be allowed to call you tenacious when he’s even worse than you are when he wants to be. “It is not. So let’s move on,” you tried to proceed but he cut you off right away.

“Kenma told me.”

Your solid defiance rapidly chipped from your secret being found out by the person you wanted to hide it from. You could only guess that Kenma told him just now. That’s why he was on a rampant chase to find you. 

The earlier gamble made sense now. He anticipated your refusal to admit what happened back then, back before you left. So he wanted to ensure that you would be forthright about it. 

Even after losing the bet, his goal was still secured for he had Kenma’s story as proof.

You tried to feel any hostility towards Kenma but you didn’t have it in your heart to do so. You trusted Kenma. He must have had a good reason for telling Kuroo now when he’d kept it well for more than a year.

“Fine,” you said under your breath. 

“Too many that I didn’t bother counting.”

Guilt darkened the diffidence on his face. He must not have expected that you would be the type to cry over a guy, especially him who started his relationship with you only as a bed warmer.  

But you went on with your previous question since that’s what was pervading in your mind. “When did you realize?” You were really curious since when the feeling has been mutual between the two of you. 

“Realize what?”

“That you l-,” you hesitated, reluctant to fully spat out the phrase completely even though he already said it first hand. Looking back, you don't know how you convinced yourself to admit your feelings to him when you’re stuttering from a trifling thing such as this. 

“That I love you?”

You staved off away from his perfervid stare, not able to handle it as you replied a brash “Yeah” to maintain your tough façade.

“At the very same night you were supposed to confess.”

You harshly returned your gaze to him. “Was that a joke?” You chuckled wryly. “In case you forgot, I was there.” 

You were grateful to Kenma being there at that moment, but it’s different when it’s finally Kuroo you’re confronting. You could feel all the unaddressed bitterness you buried deep inside take over you.

“I was hoping to get an honest conversation. Instead, I arrived at the godforsaken bar,” you continued with a forced smile, “and stood watch as you made that first move to kiss her, how you pulled her close like ….  like you couldn’t get enough.” The particular scene tore you back then and it does just the same now. Before you knew it, warm liquid pooled in the corner of your eyes without any warning. 

You turned your head sideway and let your hair cover your face. 

You didn’t want him to see how your lips quivered as you fend off a whimper that was already at the back of your tongue

You sealed shut any feelings you had for that certain chapter of your relationship with Kuroo. So you couldn’t understand the surge of sullenness that flowed through you. It must be from how paradoxical his narrative seemed. 

How could he claim to love you when he enjoyed the sultry company of another?

If Kuroo would think of two words to describe your personality, it would be determined and composed, to the point that you can seem cold and apathetic at times. You were the kind of person who didn’t give two shits to anything you found unnecessary or irrelevant. 

Since he met you, you constantly had your guard up as if people will find something awful if they get a tiny peek of what you really are. He couldn’t do something about that. He didn’t have any right to. You two were only fucking around. He later figured out that you didn’t want people to know who you really were - an heiress and a successful model. 

That’s why you traded carefully around people. 

But when you came back and asked only for friendship, you still had your fences up like you were hiding something. He thought maybe because you’ve had them up for so long that you didn’t know how to turn it off, even for him whom you considered a friend. 

So to see you struggling to keep your walls up that were slowly crumbling, he realized why you have a soft spot for Kenma. He’s already seen what you tried so hard to protect.

Disobeying your earlier instruction to not sit beside you, he stood up from the chair and moved to your side. 

When you saw him do so, you didn’t say anything. You only raised your hand to nimbly wipe your tears that were already falling. He grabbed your hand you were using and held it still on your lap. He replaced it with his own, drying your tears with his fingers. 

It was the least he could do with being the cause of it, and he was glad you let him even though you still kept your eyes away from him.

He trailed his fingers down your jaw and slightly lifted your face so he could look at you. What he saw was unrefined vulnerability, and even then, you wore it beautifully. 

He finally understood. That wall you built when you met again was exclusively for him. You guarded your heart from him. You created the friends only set up so you wouldn’t get hurt again.

It made him feel like shit. You really did love him back then, enough to cause you this pain.

“I’m sorry. I was half-assed about it at the time. Nothing more happened with me and whoever that girl was. I just,” he trailed off knowing that the next thing he’s going to say is gonna sound stupid. “used her to see if what I felt for you was real.”

You raised your gaze to him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“I know it’s idiotic, okay?” His voice took a slightly defensive tone as you were about to judge his line of thinking back then. “But we were only fuck buddies. I didn’t want to start a relationship with you then realize that I was just confusing the comfort of your company with something as serious as love.”

He stroked your knuckles after he explained.

“I really am sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” His words dripping with remorse from every single tear that you shed for him without him knowing. 

“Why tell me only now? It’s been months since I came back.”

“You were insanely driven on being friends only. I didn’t think you feel the same way.”

No one said anything after. He couldn’t tell if you’re aware of it too, but he could feel tension in his every vein as his next question dangled on the tip of his tongue. 

“Do you?”

You bit your lip as you averted your eyes downwards again. 

“You know the answer to that already.”

Indeed he does. You wouldn’t be this affected if you didn’t. But he has to hear it directly from you. He has to hear you say you love him for real this time. 

“I need it to come from you.” He gently held your cheek to guide you back to his gaze. He needs to see the entirety of your face, especially your eyes, when you finally tell him how you truly feel about him. 

“I… I-” He could see your strenuous struggle to get the phrase out. You eminently tried as you kept uttering the first syllable but nothing after that. “I can’t say it,” you said defeatedly. 

He should be frustrated. He laid out all his cards open for you to see, but you refused to do the same when you had one last face down card that would declare the game over where you both win. 

But he held nothing but patience. He could wait for the phrase he’d been longing for as long as he made sure of something.

“You don’t have to if you can’t say it. But I’ll be honest. I,” he let out a deep breath before continuing, “I can’t stand us being friends only anymore.”

He removed his light grasp on your face as his hand travelled to the one that he hasn’t been holding. He lightly squeezed your fingers to get you to heed the attention he needed from you. 

“Be my girlfriend, y/n. Be mine.”

If you say no at this point, he’d lose his mind.

With his focus solely on you as he waited for an answer, he saw a subtle nod from you.

“Okay.”

It might seem too simple and bland of an answer. But you two had been going on through ragged stops for a year that he couldn’t care about trivial crap like that. 

It wasn’t sweet and he found that perfectly okay. Because it was you. He just needed you to finally let him be more than just fuck buddy, more than a friend.

And when your lips tugged on both corners to form a smile that was directed at him, especially for him, it made his heart soar.

“Is this really happening?”

You had the gall to be skeptical when his actions never hid his affection for you. He just didn’t say it out loud.

“You bet your ass it is.” Instead of his usual shit-eating smile that would’ve accompanied his response, his smile mirrored yours.

You were both happy.

Unable to contain himself, he acted on what always wanted.to without anything holding him back. 

He kissed you. 

No alcohol and no bullshit involved, just taking in that first touch of your lips as officially your lover.

His hands travel up to your shoulders as he scoots over to have you closer. You taste and feel ethereal. It was unlike any kiss you’ve shared in the past. The ache he had for you this whole time was being lulled by how your soft lips cascaded on his. 

His one hand goes up to the base of your neck while he parts your lips so he can have better access on the wonders of your mouth. 

You sighed helplessly to the kiss before withdrawing just a bit, your warm breaths still mingling with one another. 

“Wait,” you gasped inches away from his lips before burrowing your face on the crook of his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly, stroking your neck and shoulder to soothe whatever it is that’s bothering you.. 

“It feels weird.”

“Weird how?”

You lifted your head and looked at him with the most insane blush he’s seen from you. Your cheeks were a rosy fury that highlighted a foreign countenance in your face. Your orbs were glossy and sparkling with a tiny hint of naivety that he’s never seen from you. Your mouth was compressed in a thin line that he could tell was done to prevent the trembling of your lips that was still slightly evident.

He managed to get another unknown aspect of you to surface, and goddamn what a pleasant surprise it was. 

He loves your confidence. It was sexy. But bashfulness was an exceptional look on you too. It provided depth to your character which was already fascinating to him to begin with. 

He couldn’t wait until he could fully discover everything about you, even the one you still weren’t aware of. 

“It’s like I’m overwhelmed by something until I can’t breathe. But I… I like it?” You glowered right after describing it, probably thinking that it sounded asinine. 

He was amused and charmed at the same time from how you tried to put into words how he was making you feel. 

“You do realize we’ve fucked countless times already.” He couldn’t resist goading further even when he knew exactly what you were talking about. 

“You don’t say,” you riposted, gaining your smart-assery back to which he laughs at. 

“God, I really love you.”

He lunges to claim your lips once more, his need to have more of you back with heightened intensity.

You were getting dizzy from how he was kissing you. It was much more needy than the previous one. You still haven’t fully grasped what just happened and yet he’s already filling your senses, making you forget the tiny insignificant details and retaining only one fact that mattered. 

You and him. 

His hand on your shoulder wanders down to your waist while you grasp his biceps for support as he pulls you even closer until you were straddling him. 

His mouth did not linger too long on yours as it impatiently trailed down your neck, interchanging loving kisses with hungry sucks that stirred your thirst for him.

You remembered some parts of the drunken sex you had, but they were just flashes and blurred images. The sensation from the experience wasn’t retained. 

It seemed like a far away memory compared to how he was making you feel at the present moment.

You suddenly feel him slip his hand underneath your shirt, palming your bare skin upwards until it reaches one soft mound which he doesn't hesitate to squeeze.

“Haaaa. Kurooo, wait,” you plead breathlessly. You were getting overwhelmed by how he swiftly fanned the flames of desire that was spreading throughout your body.

His lips left the sensitive skin of your collar and met your gaze with restrained hunger.

“What is it?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Did you want him to slow down or just have his way with you already?

He must have noticed your conflict so he decided for you. 

He chose the latter.

Both his hands scurried to your hips, guiding you to raise them slightly while his lips find their way to yours again. Not bothering to remove or even tug down your leggings, he slid one hand inside which was welcomed by your slick arousal. 

“Why’d you stop me when you’re already this wet?” He asked with pride flickering in his eyes knowing that it was him who caused it. 

But he did not let you answer as he shoved one finger in your core.

“Aahh,” your eyes closed shut and your thighs tremble from the sudden pleasure as your hands move to clutch his shoulders to anchor yourself. You rest your forehead on his while puffing heavily. 

“Kuroo...” you whimpered.

He steadies you with one hand, but does not relent as he inserts one more digit.

“Hmmm?” You could tell that he was enjoying your wanton surrender just from the way he sounded. 

“It feels too much,” you admitted. 

“Too much? Oh kitten, we’ve barely even started.”

He took the hem of your shirt and lifted it up. “Bite it,” he commanded and you complied obediently. 

He hoists your bra down your chest, exposing your unclad breasts to him. He eagerly takes one perk nipple in his mouth while his one hand goes around your waist. He retacts his fingers inside and rubs the bundle of nerves above your slit in hurried circles that were driving you to the brink of madness. 

He was right. This was still foreplay, but you were already so feverish. 

Your moans were muffled by how hard you were biting the cotton fabric of your shirt. 

“Take your shirt off. I want to hear you,” his voice raspy as he stopped everything he was doing that was making you feel good. You quickly yanked your shirt off so he could go back to doing them right away.

 As soon as your top was thrown away, he inserted the same fingers back again and started pumping in and out aggressively. 

With his request and the absence of your shirt, nothing was repressing the salacious sounds that were coming out of your mouth

The heat in the pit of your groin was building up too fast. It was a very steep peak that he was rapidly coercing you to reach. 

“Feels-ahh-so good.”

He groaned in response. He took out his digits and loosened his hold of you which made you flutter your eyes open. 

“Let’s take this to my bed,” he said ruggedly as he was about to get up. 

You firmly grasp his shoulders to stop him. “Wait.”

A dash of timidness came over you again which you couldn’t understand. Just like he said earlier, you’ve had a lot of sex. You did things more scandalous than what you had in mind, but you feel flustered just thinking about saying it out loud. 

“What is it?”

“Uhh,” you swallowed your nerves. “Do you mind getting your couch dirty?” 

He raised an eyebrow from your question, but was immediately followed by a riveting smile upon realizing what you meant. 

“Not all,” he took off his shirt then proceeded to unclasp your bra that was still lugged your breasts. 

“We can get it dirty as much as we want,” he whispered right in your ear. 

--

Sex with Kuroo before usually ended with both of you scramming to get water or go to the bathroom to clean up. Then when you went back to his bed, both of you just settled down in  whatever position you were comfortable in. 

Holding each other after sex just was never on the table. No one talked about it and no one initiated so you figured both of you weren’t into it. You weren’t sure about him but you found the act too intimate to do between casual sexmates.

You had no idea it felt this good to be cradled by him.

Your head was nested on his arm that he extended for you. His other one was enveloped around your waist and your face and hands were burrowed on his chest. 

“This is nice,” was an understatement that you breathed on his skin.

“Mmhmm. More especially since you’re awake and sober,” he hummed on your hair.

“Hmm?”

He chuckles lightly as he caresses your hair delicately, his fingers sometimes grazing your nape. 

“Yeah, I held you like this the night of my birthday instead of going back.”

You definitely had no memories of that. You knew he took care of you, but you didn’t think he got cozy in bed afterwards. 

“I thought awww poor you. You seemed like you could use a cuddle. You did beg me to fuck you after all.”

Typical of him, he had to be an ass and ruin the moment. 

But you didn’t believe him. You knew that’s not what happened. You did kiss him first and asked him to stay, but you did not beg. Even if you did forget everything, you still wouldn’t believe him. You’re not the type of person to beg.

“Don’t invent stories just because you wanted to feel me up after sex.” 

His chest rumbles within your touch as he worked up a laugh from your snappy comeback. “You’re really something, kitten.”

“You’re gonna keep calling me that, huh?”

He cranes his head back a bit, creating some space between you. You could tell he was peering at you.

“Don’t like it?”

You smile at his question. You found the nickname tacky at first, but it kind of got stuck with you. He’s never called you any other pet names other than that and it made you feel like it was solely for you.

“No, I love it.”

You tilt your head up a bit to look at him.

“I love you.”

You were so apprehensive earlier because of the torment that still lingered from the many failed attempts to tell him so. 

You thought you would need more time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case as he easily whisked your worries away just by being with him like this. 

You were finally able to tell him sincerely in your own accord. You didn’t realize keeping these feelings all to yourself was so heavy that letting it out was such a liberating experience.

As you free your chest with the restless burden of secretly loving him, you don’t feel empty because your heart was filled with content from knowing that he loves you just the same.

It reflects on his face, more so now that his smile is growing broader by the second which was accompanied by a noticeable flush on his cheeks that was illuminated by the dim light of his night lamp.”

“I love you too, y/n.” His eyes exuding profound adoration for you.

“I had my chance to tell you the morning after I got wasted. I just-”

“Hey,” he cut you off then removed his hand on your waist to cup your neck, his thumb brushing gently the curve of your jaw. 

“I have you now. That’s all I care about,” the elated smile still not leaving his face. 

“I can see that. You look too freaking happy,” you said as revenge for how he ruined your moment just a while ago. 

“Well, sorry I’m not emotionally constipated like you,” he quickly outwitted your attempt to mock him. 

“You scumbag,” you hissed despite his blissful smile infecting you. 

He pulls you again closer to him until your bodies stripped off of any clothing are perfectly molded against each other. 

“Yea yea, say whatever you want but I’m the scumbag you love.” Even when you couldn’t see his face anymore, you could still hear how enraptured he was. 

And so were you as you snuggled with him until you fell asleep. 

--

“Sorry, I’ll be a little late, kitten. I need to be here for a while even though the game ended already.”

You could hear him scuffling around with the dwindling sound of excitement in the background. 

You’re already late from your planned time, but he was running even later. Not that you were upset. You didn’t have major plans or anything. You just agreed to go to his place together since you’re spending the night there. 

“You have my keys, right? You can go ahead.”

“I can go there and wait for you,” you suggested since you still have some energy left from the orderly photoshoot you had this late afternoon. Also, you’d just be restless waiting for him at his apartment. 

“You sure?” He asked even though you were sure he’s smiling judging from the way he sounded. 

“Yup.”

“Okay then! Have to hang up now though. Love you, kitten,” then he ended the call. 

It’s been almost a month now since you two were officially together but he sometimes still catches you off guard with how he expresses his love for you without reservations. But you have no complaints. 

Upon arriving in Tokyo Stadium, there were only a few people inside, and some of those few are heading out. 

Thank goodness for that. Even if you weren’t feeling tired, you didn’t wanna get squashed by Volleyball enthusiasts. It would also make your bed-headed boyfriend much easier to find. 

You don’t want to call him just yet. He’s probably still occupied so you’ll just look for him. 

As you paced the area unsurely, you were starting to doubt your decision to look for him on your own. You had no idea stadiums had this kind of structure on the inside since you’ve never gone in one. You thought it was just one big open area with elevated benches.

Instead of going inside the actual playing arena, you went to the narrow halls that branched to the sides of the building.

Just before passing a certain corner, someone emerged from a room that you weren’t aware was actually there.

“Oy Hinata, I’m going ahead if you keep being a slowtard,” a tall, dark-haired man aggressively stated before walking towards your direction.

“Kageyama, you impatient turd!” A bright orange-haired guy, who’s probably called Hinata, came out right after, hurrying to go after the dark haired one who’s most likely Kageyama.

Before he could even pass you by, you lock eyes with Hinata.

A snap of familiarity hits you both.

“Waah. Ms. Pretty!” He said in English, completely and overwhelmingly affable that it was almost adorable.

Oh right, you spoke in English the first time you met.

“Hello.” You smiled politely, still holding up your non-Japanese speaking facade.

Kageyama stopped walking and turned his attention to you. He bowed then looked at Hinata. “You know her?” He asked in Nihongo.

“Not really. But it was kinda funny, Kuroo-san called her ‘kitten’ but she didn’t really know him,” Hinata grinned from amusement only but Kageyama didn’t respond.

Hinata frowned and took a semi defensive stance. “You better not tell Kuroo-san I said that.”

You just alternate your gaze between the two men, deciding whether you should admit that you could actually speak Nihongo and that you’re looking for Kuroo or just let things play out as is. 

“What’s the noise all about?” 

Another set of recognizable faces turned up - fake blondie, curly, and black and white.

It wasn’t hard to guess why they were there. They were athletes. They weren’t just guests in the event. They were most likely brand ambassadors too, except for Kageyama. It’s the first time you saw the man. 

They must be part of the national team. Kuroo did say it was an international match today.

Fake blondie’s face lit up as soon as his eyes landed on your face. He quickly made his way to approach you, passing by Hinata when he did.

“You lost, pretty girl?” It contained everything Hinata’s previous compliment lacked, pure flirtatiousness together with a come-hither smile. 

So the Volleyball national team can somehow speak English. Although, they still retained their heavy accents.  

You studied fake blondie in front of you and quickly decided that you wouldn’t date him even if you haven’t met Kuroo. The guy’s hot, but he seems like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Someone who you didn’t have to identify by his hair entered the scene, Yaku. 

You wave reservedly at him for you still haven’t forgotten how you acted around him the first you met.

“What’re you doing here?” He, then, turned to fake blondie. “Cut it out, Miya-san. I’m certain she’s not interested.”

“She can’t understand Nihongo, Yaku-san.” Black and white appeared to be whispering but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.. 

Yaku threw him a confused look. “What? I met her around two months ago. She’s a local, Bokuto.”

The Miya person scowled, “Geez. Could’ve saved me the trouble.”

You just ignored him and shifted your attention to Yaku. 

“I’m looking for Tet-” you cleared your throat. He’s been pestering you to call him ‘Tetsu’ every single day until you just succumbed to it and it became normal to you. You almost addressed him as such to these people who you presume he’s working with. 

“I’m looking for Kuroo.”

Yaku raised an eyebrow with intrigue twinkling on his whole face. “Oh?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you answered obscurely. 

“You friends or somethin?” Miya asked with an ounce of wariness, changing your initial thought of him being an idiot.

Yaku grinned. “They’re just friends,” he answered for you, obviously anticipating whether you’d agree or not. 

You weren’t ashamed of dating Kuroo, but you’ve had some kind of weird interaction with these people that involved Kuroo, save for Kageyama obviously. Poor guy must be confused at the novelty of what’s happening.

From behind Bokuto and the curly haired guy whose name you still have no idea what, the man you were looking for presented himself and walked towards you. 

Those he passed by had their eyes lingering on his back with Miya being the last person to notice him since Miya is the closest to you. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he puts a possessive arm around you, “ but this lost lady here is my girlfriend.” 

You tried to hold off a smile, but it was futile. You didn’t expect that announcing it to other people was that gratifying after more than a year of consistently telling people otherwise. . 

Damn it feels good to be more than just friends with Kuroo. 

A/N”

I want to cry. This was my very first fic and my very first series as well. I'm so happy to see it through and finish it.

I'm thinking of an epilogue maybe next year, but for now, I'm marking it as completed.

I love you all.

Part 9 || Epilogue ||  m.list

taglist (thos in bold and crossed out can’t be tagged)

@lia-faerie-queen @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @arendizzle @phantomneko0 @ysatrap @babythotshq @ameliaxo @miiy @kurooscoochie @lucifers-luv @suikrem

[mrsbakashi]

all :) if you want lol but if not then just the even ones

you know damn well i'd answer all of them twice for you 😭

thank you for asking and watch out for the long ass answers (so i put a cut).

1. book you've reread the most times?

probably pride and prejudice. it's a cliche, but it's my favorite book and i usually go for it when i don't know what to read next or when i'm in some sort of "book hangover" (is that a thing in english? idk). or maybe the little prince. yes, i'm a walking cliche.

2. top 5 books of all time?

oh god, so hard. i'm going for book that hold a special place in my heart for many reasons:

1st: pride and prejudice

2nd: the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas (it's from a brazilian author and it's honestly so amazing i can't even put into words)

3rd: the chronicles of narnia or harry potter (yes, i'm listing the whole series as one book)

4th: soul love - at night the sky is more beautiful

5th: the little prince

3. what is your favourite genre?

does fiction count as a genre? does novel? or maybe romance? to simplify: if there's romance in it, i'm reading it.

4. what sections of a bookstore do you browse?

first the best-sellers/popular because it's usually the first section, you end up there almost before you even enter the book store. then i like to go to a section on my favorite bookstore that is for recommendations of both customers and the people who work there (they can even let post its saying why they recommend it). then i go to national and international literature. sometimes i go to spiritual section because i love studying it. depending on how i feel i can also go to the languages section and see if there's anything helpful. and usually, before leaving, i take a quick look in the medicine section because old habits die hard, and then i feel super sad i won't be a doctor anymore and go straight to McDonald's. ✌🏻😗

5. where do you buy books?

this question is so sad... so books are really expensive in my country, and people don't really have the habit of reading here, the numbers are insanely low and our government doesn't care/doesn't do anything about it, so teacher and schools are left to do the impossible task to make people understand it can actually be fun - anyway, things are really bad, yes. so a lot of bookstores had to close after declaring bankruptcy, and the few that are still working are always empty. and that alone wouldn't be as much of a problem, but now the prices are so ridiculously high - i can't remember the last time i bought a book in a physical bookstore. they cost like double the usual price there. the last time i went to my favorite (ex-favorite?) one i got so mad i left withing 3 minutes. i literally felt like crying, because it's the most famous bookstore we have, and it's kinda historical, and i had so many great moments there. anyway. now i buy them online. i try to find small sellers on instagram/etc with a good price so i don't have to give my money to bezos, but sometimes i do, because sometimes i can't find a specific book anywhere else 😔.

6. what books have you read in the last month?

NONE! 😃

no, seriously, since november last year i've been reading exclusively fanfiction (and lately not even fanfics 😩). i did start a couple of books, but couldn't go through because my anxiety is quite bad and i can't engage with anything with more than 1 chapter or more than 1K words. or watch. can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

but last september, which was the last month i actually read something, i read 3 books i think.

7. is there a series/book that got you into reading?

i'm pretty sure there was, but i can't really remember, because i was too young. i think i was 4 when i insisted my sister taught me how to read so i could read books, and she did which is amazing if you think a 7 year old taught a 4 year old 🤣 she would come home with what she learned at school and taught me. i remember i already knew how to read when i entered school and the teachers were usually amazed and kept me in charge when they had to leave for a few minutes - yes, i was that kid who is responsible for writing down the names of everyone who is not quietly sitting.

but anyway. there's a really famous comic series around here that's called "monica's gang" in english, i believe, and i remember reading it a loooot.

but to answer the question: i've been into reading for as long as i can remember.

8. what is the first book you remember reading yourself?

the first one i actually remember reading is the little prince. i know i had read other children's books before, with little silly cute stories, but my first "big girl" book was the little prince. i was 6-7 and my sister got it at the school's library for me and i loved it so much - to this day it's still one of my faves.

9. when do you tend to read most?

at night, in bed, sipping tea, before falling asleep. that's the only time i feel okay with doing something not related to work or stuff.

10. do you have a guilty fav?

absolutely! twilight for example lololol. and like "Led Astray" by Sandra Brown, and also the Hush Hush series and "Perdida" from a brazilian writer.

11. what non-fiction books do you like if any?

most of them are from brazilian writers so i won't name them, but i really like reading historical books, biographies of people i admire, spiritual studies and stuff. i like studying some stuff too, so books with theories/textbooks. does poetry count as non-fiction? 🤔

12. did you enjoy any compulsory high school readings?

yes! the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas for example i was forced to read to vestibular - a big exam colleges and universities have to test if you are good enough. there were other books some of my teachers recommended or made us read that i really liked at the time, most of them are brazilian.

13. do you have a goodreads?

i don't, but i have another social media to keep track of my reading. it's called skoob (which is books spelled backwards) but i don't know if it's available worldwide.

14. do you ever mark/dog ear books you own?

yes, but i'm not really a fan of it. i like to write/highlight my books, but i worked in a company very far from my house so i used to read a lot on the subway/bus and i couldn't highlight/write in a bus/train full of people (like so full you could barely breathe) so i folded the pages i wanted to highlight later - but then i never did, because o was busy finishing the book, so now i just have a lot of books with dog ears.

15. recommend and review a book.

oh, i suck at it, which is ironic because i used to have a bookstagram. but i will do a very light one:

i will recommend the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas, one of my favorite books. it was written by an amazing author with an amazing story back in 1881. so it's a book narrated in first person by the main character, brás cubas, who is now dead and reminiscing on his life and the people he met. and he is sooooo ironic, funny and full of himself. like there's a part during his funeral when it starts raining and he just goes "even the sky is crying the death of the great brás cubas". and while you go with him in this trip through his life you find a lot of critics, specially directed towards the society, but also a lot of reflections about life. it's just amazing. funny and deep. i love it.

16. how many books have you read this year?

none! 🤣

i mentioned before the last book i read was like in september, since then i started books but kinda abandoned on page 30 or so. i was reading a lot of fanfic but now even that is fading, so i'm basically reading nothing...

17. top 5 children's books?

i think "children's books" is too much of a wild concept, like do you mean harry potter or do you mean the gingerbread man?

anyway, my top would be:

the little prince

the chronicles of narnia

harry potter

peter pan

diary of a wimpy kid

18. do you like historical books? which time period?

i do! basically any time. i love learning about the past, how people lived, how they did some things, their customs... it's really nice. also i don't know if historical books refer to like pride and prejudice or to actual history books, but the answer is yes for both ✌️😗

19. most disliked popular books?

oh, uh... i think the after series. i read the first book entirely with the strength of how much i hated it, and i just didn't drop it because i don't like dropping things (taking an indefinite pause yes) but i hated it so much.

20. what are things you look for in a book?

first i ask myself if the story has the potential to make me cry - if yes then I'll read it LOL. i look for stories that will give me many many feelings, like really mess with them, or stories that seem fun or sweet or interesting. i'm also a sucker for narratives (idk if that's the right word in english, but like the way the story is told) so when i'm in a bookstore before buying a book that seems interesting i usually read the first chapter/pages to see if i like it. i ended up giving up on some books because the narrative was bad or annoying. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[guyofalltime]

honestly i was only gonna take a short break until im done with finals for this semester but then a typhoon had to slam the philippines like. a week ago and our province suffered dealing with the strongest parts of the typhoon along with provinces in the central-southern part of the country so now we’re just barely surviving with no electricity, water, low signal, long lines for gasoline stations, scarce supplies of food and water since most establishments are closed and the prices have drastically increased like...two people have already died of dehydration its literally crazy. also lots of people have either got no roofs in their homes anymore or got their houses completely destroyed and are displaced now

anyways yeah thats the gist of my situation rn but its a lot more than that tbvh my mom relies on her online job for income so now that she cant work (no internet) we’ll eventually go broke and most ATMs are also offline so its hard to be able to withdraw cash...we used to pay around ₱100 everyday just to have clean bathing water but i think our water is back running now?? still no electricity though cause a lot of posts/wires fell during the typhoon and linemen are still doing clearings, lots of roads are unpassable bc of fallen debris/posts ☹️ people are having a hard time reaching out/communicating with their loved ones cause its hard to message and call people with no signal here, our relatives from another province had no way of contacting us for days and they were worried sick about whatever situation we were in. to top it all off we’re not getting enough media coverage cause yeah people are really struggling to cover news here with no signal :/ and we cant ask for help/support or send updates when we literally have no access to the internet (i only managed to post this cause we travelled all the way to the northern part of our province where damages are lesser and electricity is available)

this is getting long and i only really wanted to make a brief post but i ended up rambling cause our whole province is in shambles, people are doing everything just to survive and get basic necessities and my mind wont be in a good place until we get to recover :(

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[hetacakes]

hitchhiking.

miya twins x fem! reader

snow white au, aka me making fanfics about my own fanfic

in which reader leaves her home in the big apple, the busy city, the whatever you'd like to call it, and takes a trip to a forest, the literal opposite of home. in fact, the two places are so different that in order to get there, a plane ride is preferable over a road trip. after a week, it's time to go home, with souvenirs, of course. leaving with a heavier bag is to be expected, but the empty backpack meant for said souvenirs was a bit too heavy, suspiciously heavy

aka reader just wants to relax and ends up bringing two hitchhiker foxes home

the others aren't included in this one, sorry :( one certain bluebird will make a guest appearance but other than that the storyline is in no way connected to snow white (though i made a few ~allusions~ for the Drama) anyway, i hope you love these annoying foxes as much as i do <3

also this is borderline abo but in my defense i wanted to make them seem more animal-like since they're technically wild animals

warning for cussing because life is hard and osamu hates atsumu

word count: 9,505

   You grew up in the suburbs, always just a half hour away from the big, bustling city, where everything is fast paced with streams of people working and struggling to make their dreams come true. So it was no surprise that when you were old enough to move out, you immediately made a home in a rundown, shitty apartment, taking the typical "small apartment, big dreams" approach to life. And it was true, you did have a dream, a big dream. While you could have been anything else: a doctor, a lawyer, a profession that would make your parents happy and keep you reliably comfortable your whole life, you could never picture forcing yourself to work through something that made you unhappy, and so you decided to take the writer path.

   It was as if you were meant to be part of the busy metropolis, meant to be the same as everyone else in the crowd: broke, fresh out of uni, and barely paying the rent for a small, crappy apartment. You soon learned that dreaming to reach your dream job, a job where working hours weren't physically and mentally draining but were rather hours of doing what you loved, would only become more than just a dream at the price of your blood, sweat, and tears, just like it did for everyone else.

   But after working your ass off and putting two books on store shelves, you were able to end your contract with the sketchy landlord in the shady part of town and move into a nicer, actually livable apartment in a better building with a better landlord in a better neighborhood.

   Now when you stepped out of your complex, you were greeted with the refreshing sight of people passing by, the sky a clear blue, with a soft breeze you could feel underneath your windbreaker as it ruffled your hair and rustled your sleeves, the bright red, blue, and yellow fabric almost as bright as the sun overhead. Birds chirped in nearby trees, and if you walked around and looked for a while, you could find a few cats hanging around the sidewalk or hiding behind dumpsters.

   It was all you could have ever asked for and more.

   But sometimes, city life can be a distraction, and sometimes, you really, really need a change of pace and scenery.

   Which brought you to the present, sitting with your legs underneath you on your soft couch, squishing the plush grey throw pillows and balancing your laptop on your thighs. The money you got from your newest releases was in no means enough to call you rich, but it was comfortable enough that costs weren't one of your concerns as you typed a quick Google search. An airline website was open on your screen, and you were browsing through the available tickets, looking for one that would take you to a nice getaway, a small break from the nonstop chaos of your city, which had finally begun to wear you out from the endless stress and sleepless nights.

   "Seven day long camp resort in one of the country's most beautiful and idyllic forests," said the advertisement that popped up on the side of your browser. Clicking on it, it took you to a pretty convincing website about Inari Lodge, a tourist attraction in the middle of a forest you had never heard of before. Lists upon lists of hiking trails, forest tours, and crafted souvenir shops caught your eye, and before you knew it you were booking a week's stay in one of their cabins. Sealing the deal and buying your ticket, you sat back and sighed, ready for a vacation.

   Two weeks later, it was a few hours before your flight, so obviously you had already packed. Not. You called a friend over to help and keep you company while you packed, and ten minutes later, a familiar brunet walked through the door, ruffling his chocolate brown locks.

   "It's nice to see you, Tooru," you greeted, padding closer to him as he opened his arms for a hug. "Your hugs are the best, as always," you smiled up at him, before taking a step back.

   "You would have seen me either way; I was just on my way to bother you," he said. "You're taking a trip without me? How will I survive without you?"

   "Don't be dramatic, Ruru," you chided, pulling your suitcase onto your bed. "I know for a fact that the week I'm gone is the same week the team you're coaching has tournaments."

   "Ugh, don't remind me. They're good kids, but they suck ass," Tooru groaned, flopping next to your suitcase. "Do you have everything you need?"

   "You tell me. Check things off," you answered while looking through your closet.

   "Oooh, do I get to see your clothes?" Tooru asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

   You rolled your eyes at him. "My shirts and pants, yeah. Everything under that has been packed into this," you said, holding up a medium sized makeup pouch. 

   "Bummer. Oh well, there's always next time."

   "Ruru, stop being dirty."

   He grumbled something underneath his breath, low enough that you missed it. "Well, how long is the stay?"

   "A week."

   "So you need seven sets of clothes?"

   "Yeah, assuming I don't pee my pants," you smiled over your shoulder, watching as Oikawa held back a laugh with his hand, a wide smile spread across his face.

   "Haha, you got the whole squad laughing. How cold is it there?"

   "It's pretty cold, apparently. I'm not surprised, it's farther north than where we live, and it gets pretty chilly here sometimes," you answered, pulling a few sweaters out of your closet, pairing it with random pairs of jeans you grabbed, and passed them to Tooru, who folded and put them in your suitcase.

   "Aww, aren't I such husband material? Wait here wifey, I'm gonna get your stuff from the bath," Oikawa winked, throwing up a peace sign at you before he turned and disappeared behind the white door.

   "Can you get my toothbrush stuff too? Thank you~," you called after him in a sweet singsong voice. 

   You glanced at your bookbag, still on your couch, just where you left it. You looked at the scarf in your hands, a large white scarf too bulky to wear, and decided to throw it in there, along with your laptop and charger. You put an extra pair of comfortable boots in a reusable bag, neatly settling it between your clothes. Tooru handed you another bag, and a peek inside showed you your bath and bathroom essentials. You flashed a grateful smile at him, before turning and grabbing the last few items to throw in your bookbag-turned-carry-on, which included your notebook full of your messy brainstorming, a pack of pens, and your phone charger. Zipping your suitcase closed, you pulled up the handle and hung your bag around it.

   "Okay, I'm ready. I've got everything, except you," you winked mischievously at Tooru.

   "You're flirting! It's not fair," he complained, hand grabbing at his heart, the other draped dramatically over his forehead.

   "Guilty as charged," you winked, throwing up a finger heart. "Drive me to the airport?"

   "Of course, babe."

   You had already checked in your suitcase, got your ticket safely in your hand, and all that was left for you to do was wait an hour or so until boarding. You turned to Tooru, giving him one last hug. "I'm gonna miss you and the others, Ruru," you whispered softly, even though you were only leaving for a week.

   Tooru hugged you back, holding you tightly against his chest. He let you go, before taking a step back and pulling his hoodie over his head, his shirt riding up a bit, showing some skin for a split second. "Here, wear this," he said, handing it over to you.

   You brightened, smiling like a thousand suns before slipping it on. It was huge on you, and you were almost drowning in the soft, teal blue fabric. He gave you a fond look, his eyes shining in such pure, unadulterated love that it took your breath away for a moment.

   "Thank you, Tooru."

   "Keep it warm for me, okay?"

   "I know, I know, I promise you'll see it when I come back."

   He gave you one last hug, short and sweet, before walking away, turning to look back at you one last time. You stood there until the doors slid closed behind his back, a soft smile on your face, before you turned away and walked to your terminal, hoping to kill time either shopping, eating, or sleeping.

  You could finally lean back and relax once you were secured in your seat, miles in the air. Boarding and finding your aisle wasn't much of a hassle, thank the gods, and the glass of the plane window was refreshingly cool against the tip of your nose as you peered down at the clouds passing by. You held your bookbag against your chest, looking inside at the empty space in between the few items you did pack into it. Your laptop was safely zipped up in its designated pouch, along with its charger and your notebook, and the pack of pens that had somehow opened inside the pocket, which you had found out earlier as you tried to fish one out but instead pulled the empty cardboard packaging. Your phone charger was the only thing laying on the scarf you threw in there, a makeshift nest for nothing. Well, nothing yet.

   You were excited to spend a week in a completely different environment, surrounded by lush forestry and the coos and calls of whatever animals lived there, a place where you're never truly alone, but in a good way. It was a stark contrast from the car fumes in the city air, with the only plant life in a park square and the only sounds are the constant chatter and hum of people and cars finding their destinations. There never once was an hour of silence, and while you had been able to enjoy it as your background noise while writing, it wasn't long until you finally got tired of it. You could've sworn that the city had gotten louder on purpose just to exhaust and stress you out every night, so you were more than ready to finally be able to clear your head and maybe even flesh out an idea or two.

   The sound of the intercoms crackling to life made you jolt, holding a hand to the cold imprint on your cheek left from sleeping against the window. The pilot announced that the plane was descending, and you gathered your bag and Tooru's hoodie, bundling them both in your arms.

   Truth be told, you were glad to step off the plane. You felt the chill of the outside while walking off the plane through the passenger boarding bridge and stood for a second to put the hoodie back on, humming slightly at Tooru's smell still on the cloth, a nice, sweet but not too sweet scent that made you smile to yourself.

   You got lost in thought, so your body was on autopilot when you went to pick up your luggage and almost picked up the wrong suitcase, until the actual owner picked it up first, eyeing you weirdly. With guilty, heated cheeks, you grabbed your suitcase, checked it once, then twice, then three times, and finally hopped into an Uber as fast as you could, hoping that you wouldn't be starting your first day on vacation dying of embarrassment.

   You hurriedly thanked the driver for dropping you off, then made your way into a wooden building, the wood a warm oak with a little golden bell that chimed as you walked in. A woman behind the desk smiled at you, and you sighed, happy to have nothing to worry about, now that you were finally there.

   "Hello, welcome to Inari Lodge! Is there something I can help you with?"

   "Yes, please," you said, pulling your luggage close to you. "I reserved a cabin, and I need the keys, right?"

   "Of course," she smiled at you, and for a quick second, you thought that she resembled a cat, with black hair and upturned eyes.

   "Um, I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive, but are you a mom?"

   "Haha, don't worry, you're fine! Yes I am, my name is Kozume Sakura, and I have a son," she answered kindly, and you couldn't help but feel relieved to finally have a good thing to improve your currently-going-badly day.

   "Ah, it's just that you seemed familiar to someone I've seen around campus."

   "Ah, that would most likely be my son," she said, a sweet smile spreading across her face. "Anyway, here are your keys, and I've written the directions to your cabin right here. Don't hesitate to come and ask me for anything, okay?"

   "Yeah, okay," you nodded gratefully, making sure to wave goodbye as you walked out the doors, looking at the map in your hands.

   "I can not believe how hard it was to find you," you said to the cabin as you flopped on the bed, tired of having such a conflicting day. You sat up quickly, slapping your cheeks, "No, I won't let a few fuck ups ruin everything for me."

   Grabbing your phone, you slipped it into your hoodie pocket as you walked out the door, set on exploring the area.

   You decided not to take an official trail, preferring to save them for later, which brought you to an ordinary worn dirt path as you walked aimlessly, taking rights and lefts as you pleased.

   A rustling in the bushes lining the trail caught your attention. Just as you walked closer to separate the branches and peek through, a fox fell out of the leaves, as if something had pushed it out. The fox seemed to scowl at whatever had shoved it, before it turned its attention to you.

   Before you could think better, you crouched on the ground as you cooed, resting your cheek in your palm. "Hello, cutie fox, how are you?"

   The fox stared at you, which was good, because if it started speaking you would've booked it right then and there, but also bad, because you didn't know if it was irritated by your presence. It seemed to look warily at you, not ready to attack, but not fully trusting either.

   "Come here, I want to pet you," you crooned, holding out the end of your sentence as you leaned forward against your better judgement, shifting your legs from against your chest to underneath you. Before it could make a decision, however, another fox jumped out of the bushes and straight into your arms, settling happily in your lap. Caught by surprise, you stared, while the first fox yipped at it, jumping forward and pushing it out of your lap. You watched as they tumbled to the ground, rolling as they fought and wrestled.

   "Um, okay… I think I'll just go now, bye!" You quipped before turning around and walking steadily back to where you came from, not wanting to get caught up in a wild animal fight.

   "Look at what ya did 'Tsumu, why do ya always mess everything up?"

   "Me? Me?! You were the one that jumped me!"

   "'Cause I didn't recall inviting you to our conversation, dumbass!"

   "Yer a fuckin' fox, you can't talk! You're just jealous!"

   "So are you! We're twins, shithead!"

   And they kept arguing, voices carrying throughout the forest, even as they walked along the path the pretty, perfect, kind, and amazing love of their li— , ahem, the completely normal girl from earlier took, leading to the all too familiar lodge situated at the edge of their forest.

   "That was close," you whispered to yourself as you leaned against the door, as if the foxes would be strong enough to bust it open. They hadn't even followed you, as you didn't hear them, and when you glanced behind you, nobody was there.

   "Anyway, I guess I should plan out what I'm gonna do here, I don't want this trip to be a waste," you said, opening your suitcase and putting your clothes in the drawers, setting your bathroom essentials on top of it. You grabbed your bookbag from where you had thrown it on the bed and set it on a glass table. You pulled out your notebook and flipped to a blank page, cringing as you passed by page after page of chicken scratch.

   "The only reason I can read my own handwriting is because I'm there when it's written," you muttered to yourself as you rummaged for a pen, finding one out of the set of five. You wrote down the days of the week you'd be staying there, with your first official day starting tomorrow, on Tuesday. Your flight back was scheduled for a week later, on Monday. You hummed happily, glad that your timetable worked out so neatly as you wrote down the days of the week, leaving enough space for a bullet list underneath.

   On your last day at the lodge, you made sure to make a note to leave at noon at the latest, since your flight was at six in the afternoon, and you wanted to be extra, extra, extra sure that you would not miss it. Ideally, you would be all packed up Sunday night, but knowing you and your procrastinating self, you wrote it down for the day before, even though you knew you would probably be packing the day of, just as you did before.

   You made sure to set Saturday as souvenir hunting day, hoping to bring back something for Tooru, a thank you for the help and hoodie.

   The foxes you met earlier crossed your mind, but the grumbling of your stomach reminded you to get some dinner and wrap up your day. Holding the map out in front of you, you memorized the directions to a cafe not too far from your cabin, and went on your way.

   "Hello, can I get the sandwich of the day with a cinnamon hot chocolate and a slice of pumpkin bread?"

   "Of course! Here's your total."

   The worker you were pleasantly talking to gave you a small smile before glancing to the side, as if something caught his eye. He pulled a face at whatever he was looking at, and you followed his annoyed gaze to the two foxes you met earlier, playing next to one of the bean bag chairs next to the door, near the window wall of the cafe.

   You laughed awkwardly, "Haha, um, is there something wrong?"

   He seemed to snap out of giving them the stink eye, profusely apologizing to you as he provided an explanation, "No, no, it's fine, it's just that those two foxes are some of the forest animals that walk around the lodge, except they're the only ones that are more annoying than cute. Some cats and birds and such come by and usually will just sit next to the register, you know, like nice and normal animals, but these foxes seem hellbent on walking around and biting at people's ankles and fighting and making huge messes that they can't clean up because they're damn foxes."

   You laughed again, though this time it was genuine. "You seem to have very strong feelings about their mischief," you joked, watching as he relaxed.

   "Yeah, but at the end of the day, they're still just foxes, and we make sure all the animals of the forest are safe and sound."

   And if the foxes decided to cause more trouble than usual, that was their business, their decision, and not in any way related to the slight dislike of the barista, which was in turn totally not because you got along well with him.

   After paying, you made your way to a table in the corner of the windows where the glass met the wall, looking absentmindedly at the visitors and workers walking past, occasionally with a rabbit or bird or other critter.

   "I have your hot chocolate and sandwich, and your bread will be in just a moment. Unfortunately, I also brought these two," the barista you were talking to said as he set your food and drink on the table, before glancing at the floor. Just as you were about to lean over and see, two foxes jumped up on the seat across from you, settling themselves on the table, curled up like cats.

   You waved him off with a grin, "Oh it's fine, I have a feeling they'll behave."

   You took a sip out of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth it gave you after being in the outside chill. You picked up your sandwich and took a bite, before speaking, "Are you done fighting?"

   Both foxes stared at you, and if they were people, you were sure their mouths would be hanging open, dumbfounded and mildly offended as you nonchalantly took another bite, not waiting for them to respond or react.

   You reached a hand out while they were frozen and pet the head of the fox nearest to you. It lowered its head slightly, shyly accepting your affection.

   "Aww, you're so cute. What's your name?"

   Of course, it couldn't speak, but it batted your hand with its left paw. "So cute," you crooned, "Come here?"

   Just like before, when the fox was about to walk towards you, the other one jumped at you, and you hurried to wrap your arms around it. You stared at it in your arms, tummy up like a baby.

   You rubbed its stomach. "What about you? What's your name?"

   He happily raised his right paw, and you held it gently before putting him back on the table, which was good, because the left paw fox was a second away from pouncing on it again. The fox you set down scrambled onto the tabletop, and watched with what you would call betrayed eyes as you carried the other fox into your lap, petting its head lightly.

   "It's not your turn," you quipped, focusing your attention on the fox in your lap. "You're so cute, so cute, please be my baby~."

   The fox you dumped on the table yipped indignantly at you, and you decided to mess with him. "Oh, you're still here? Well, I guess you're okay…" you trailed off, struggling to keep a poker face as he looked at you with puppy eyes, while the other fox barked out high pitched laughs, which made him get up and get ready to jump.

   You pet him between his ears. "I'm just joking. Jeez, you're always at each other's necks," you complained, sitting back and continuing to eat your sandwich.

   As if to prove you wrong, the fox in your lap jumped on the table and curled up with the other fox, both of them leaning against each other like close brothers. Coincidentally, the waiter walked by with your pumpkin bread, watching in amazement.

   "How did you do that?" he asked, and you just shrugged in response, your attention mostly on your sandwich.

   When you finished it, you took another sip of your drink before you tore off two pieces of your bread. You offered it to them as a reward, for finally behaving themselves. They yipped happily in response, content with spending the rest of your time together eating in comfortable silence.

   You pulled yourself out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Embarrassingly, jet lag made you sleep in on Tuesday, your first official day at the lodge, and by the time you woke up, you had nothing to do but eat and jot down some story ideas, none of which stuck to you.

   So you made sure to wake up nice and early the next day, dead set on going on at least one trail. You showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a knit grey sweater. You stood for a moment, debating if you should wear a jacket or Tooru's hoodie over it, but decided against it and deemed the sweater good enough.

   Thankfully, it was one of the warmer, sunnier days. You looked down at your map, making your way towards the open lodge outlet, taking note of the small clusters of people milling about, a familiar sight, albeit on a smaller, calmer scale. You looked up at the wooden signs pointing towards various shops, restaurants, and forest attractions. You finally found the one you were looking for, pointing to your right with the word "birdwatch" carved across. When you followed its directions, you came to a small gift shop at the start of a wide, dirt path, imprints of boots and footsteps all over the light brown ground. Walking inside, a small wind chime announced your arrival, twinkling like bird chirps, and the person behind the counter looked up.

   "Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, recognizing your face.

   "Hello again! I thought you worked at the reception desk?"

   "I'm covering for someone's shift right now, they had finals to take. Are you here for a birdwatch?"

   "Spot on," you answered, bringing a hand up to rub the back of your head with a meek smile. Kozume winked at you, before taking out two binoculars from under the desk.

   "Well then, let's go!"

   "You know, some of these birds remind me of the ones that live near my apartment building," you mentioned, picturing the large cherry blossom tree that stretched its branches past your window. "The birds here are so much more interesting though," you lamented. "The city just has crows and small birds, but here there's robins and warblers and so many more species, with great diversity. It's like the bird version of the people back home."

   "I can imagine not many birds want to live near so many humans, but these have all of the forest to themselves. Look, the bird over there, with the blue mohawk, is called an Asian Paradise Flycatcher, and…" she trailed off, continuing your tour of one of the forest trails, before whipping an arm in front of you, exclaiming, "Watch your step!"

   You froze with your foot still in the air, watching as the fox you narrowly missed stepping on darted in front of you.

   "I'm sorry, he's not really supposed to be here, he has his own trail," Kozume frantically apologized while glaring at the fox, before sighing in relief when you responded with a small laugh.

   "It's fine, I've met him before," you reassured while looking around, searching for a certain somebody. "And I learned that he never walks alone…"

   To prove your point, the other fox you were well acquainted with joined his brother, running around in front of you.

   "Well, the next part of our trail is basically a circle back, so hopefully they run off to where they belong, I don't want you to get in trouble for messing with the animals because of them," Kozume said as you made a left, walking back to the start of the trail.

   When you opened the door to the gift shop, two furry animals zipped past your feet, and you already knew who they were before you even saw them.

   "Kozume, is it normal for these guys to always hang around here?" you asked, picking up both foxes in your arms, resting them comfortably in your arms.

   Kozume turned around to look at you, her hands still in midair, putting away your binoculars. "Actually, no, they do come by once or twice but they never hang around, and we just assumed they don't like people very much since they really only hang out with each other. They've never let anyone pet them…" she stopped mid-sentence as she watched you pet their heads and stomachs with no resistance from the two.

   You glanced up. "Huh? Oh, I don't really have a lot of experience with animals, but they're just so cute," you said, before snapping your head up, eyes wide in realization. "Hey, do you have some ribbon or something?"

   "Yes! We use them to identify specific birds we keep tabs on, especially ones we just recently nursed back to health," she explained, pulling out a box of ribbons, offering it to you. You set the foxes on the counter, watching Kozume hesitantly reach a hand out to them from the corner of your eye. They protested, but allowed her to pet them when you eyed them. Looking into the box, you fished out two ribbons, one a golden yellow, and the other a nice warm grey.

   "May I?" you asked, directing the question to Kozume. The foxes, however, decided you were talking to them and excitedly sat in front of you, pulling each ribbon towards them with their paw.

   "I think they said yes," Kozume chuckled, and you took that as your permission to put ribbons on their, er, the forest's foxes. You cooed at them, asking which one would go first. The fox with the yellow ribbon in his mouth nudged your hand with his face, making you smile.

   "Which are you, left or right?"

   The fox raised its right paw and rubbed his face as your answer, and you kept that in mind while you tied the ribbon around his neck, finishing it off with a nice bow. You did the same to the other fox, who voluntarily shook your hand with his left paw, just in case you forgot. By the time you were done, both foxes were playing on the counter, ribboned bows securely on their necks.

   "What if you started working here? The way you can interact with the animals so easily is honestly amazing," Kozume asked, springing the question on you out of the blue.

   You jumped, before you began rubbing the back of your head sheepishly, "Ah, I would love to, honestly, but I work as an author, and it's best if I stay relatively close to my publishing company."

   Kozume smiled understandingly, "Yeah, I figured. Well, just know that me and the foxes will be missing you hundreds of miles away." Then she brightened, pulling out her phone, "Put your number in, so we can stay in touch, and so I can keep an eye on my son," she winked cheekily as you accepted her offer.

   While the two of you were occupied, focused on your conversation, the two foxes stopped playing, standing abruptly and whipping their faces towards you.

   Loud crying made you turn away from Kozume and look for the source of the high-pitched whining, popping the question "who's making those crying puppy sounds?" into the air.

   Your eyes landed on the foxes, both of which were crying and walking towards you, tugging at your sleeve and rubbing their heads against your arms. Your heart melted, and you turned to Kozume, pity written across your face.

   "When I said they would miss you, I didn't think it would be this much…"

   "No, you can't come in here! I'll be kicked out if I let you guys in!"

   The foxes, still with the ribbons tied perfectly and safely around their necks, were looping around your legs, blocking your entrance to the cabin you've rented. They both looked up at you and cried, their whines catching the attention of some workers and visitors nearby.

   "Okay, fine! If I get in trouble, it's your fault," you relented, turning the knob and carefully opening the door, watching as they slipped in, leaving you to shut the smooth oak door quietly behind you as you flipped on the light switch.

   The second you let electric light flood the cabin, you realized the foxes were nowhere to be seen. Only mildly worried, since you knew they were at least somewhere inside, you shrugged it off and walked to the dresser, pulling out Tooru's hoodie and some sweatpants, before making your way to the bathroom.

   Out of nowhere, a fox came zooming at your feet, eager to come inside with you. This time, you were firm as you said, "I'm going to shower, so you can back off and play around while I'm in the bathroom, alone, with no perverts!"

   The grey fox started laughing at the peeping fox, which you realized was the yellow ribboned one. As expected, he launched at his brother, and you took the distraction as an opportunity to step inside the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it just to make sure.

   Freshly showered, with your comfortable, warm clothes on, you shuffled out of the bathroom, already expecting the foxes right there, having to step over them to make your way to the bed. They jumped up with you, but once the grey fox came close enough to sniff your hoodie, it barked indignantly, biting at the hoodie.

   "Hey! This isn't mine, it's Tooru's, so I can't let you destroy it!" you chided, pulling your sleeve away. Apparently you had said the wrong thing, because both foxes started pulling your sleeves together, before you yanked your arms out of their grips.

   "Tooru doesn't even smell bad, he smells nice," you said, pulling the hoodie up to smell the familiar scent, the aromas of chocolates and sweets in fresh air, reminding you of the skies back at the city: the smells of bakeries and cafes wafting through the air and birds chirping above you every time you walked down a street. Still, when the foxes continued growling, you reluctantly tugged the sweater off and stayed in just a white t-shirt, an old, stretched out shirt with the print on the front long since faded and gone.

   When you plopped back on the bed, the foxes crowded towards you, close enough that if you didn't know better, you'd think that they were trying to get you to forget about Tooru and focus on them. Subconsciously taking a breath, you caught the smell of a forest clearing or meadow, a smell of fresh grass and fresh air and petrichor, which you would expect from foxes that were supposed to stay and play in the forest, but you also noticed slight variations in the scent, obviously coming from either fox.

   Yellow ribbon had a scent like honey, with a strong undertone of a woodsy musk, which made you picture drinking tea sweetened with the golden syrup right outside your cabin. 

   Grey ribbon had a strong campfire scent, the smell of crackling wood and fire and melting chocolate. A scene under a clear night sky surrounding a fire with the aroma of cinnamon in the air came to mind, and you let yourself get lost in thought, your senses being occupied with new scents, sights, and imagery.

   If the foxes were human, their faces would surely have the widest, shit-eating grins, smug and satisfied at having you distracted from the minor annoyance from earlier and focused on them, just as they wanted.

   You snapped out of it. "You little—, you just want me to give you attention and affection and baby you," you accused, pushing them away from your face. They didn't protest or bark at you, and you figured it was because they knew they were guilty as charged. "Jeez, you're acting like Tooru is a threat or something…"

   You heard two big sighs, and blinked in surprise at the foxes as they settled onto the plush white covers. Maybe it was because they were so human-like and made you honestly contemplate whether they could understand you or not, or maybe it was because the only animal you've heard sigh is your mom's dog back at your family home, but whatever it was, it made you think, for a split second, that the foxes were humans turned animals, kind of like the frog prince. But that was stupid, so you shook your head, got up and turned off the lights, opening the curtains but keeping the blinds closed, and settled back into bed as slats of moonlight came from the spaces between the blinds.

   The foxes climbed into your arms, and you held them close to you as you fell asleep, telling yourself it was only because you had crossed the line earlier, even though deep down you knew that wasn't the real reason.

   You pulled the two fluffy sources of heat closer to you, unwilling to open your eyes and start the day. It's only when the heaters started licking your face that you panicked and freaked out.

   High pitched yips made the events of yesterday evening rush back to you, and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes tiredly, surprised that you had a good night's sleep with two, technically, wild animals.

   You scooped the drowsy foxes into your arms before making your way to the big wooden door and pushing it open, setting the foxes on the ground.

   "You weren't even supposed to be in there, you know," you said as the foxes tried to get back in, pawing at the door. You shivered, the chill in the air numbing your exposed skin and wrapping around your bare arms, and you hurriedly shooed them away before retreating back inside the warmth of the cabin.

   Safely bundled in a sweater from your university under a hoodie, one of your own this time, you joined a group going for the fox trail, wondering if you'd see yours.

   Pointedly ignoring how you immediately thought of them as "your" foxes, you listened to the tour guide, an employee you hadn't met yet, talk about how the foxes don't always show on the trail.

   "That's a shame, let's just hope for the best," other visitors and families whispered around you, with some of them saying they didn't see that many foxes yesterday, only a few odd ones out here and there. Knowing where they actually were the day before, you stifled a laugh, even as your ears turned red with guilt and embarrassment, before following at the back of the group as they started the trail.

   Luckily, you saw a few grey and brown foxes, who seemed like actual normal foxes and not borderline sentient, but around the middle of the trail it was basically deserted.

   "Let me try to call them," the guide offered, bringing his hands up to cup his mouth and whistle loudly.

   Silence answered, with no signs of anything coming to visit. 

   The tour guide encouraged the group to call out and whistle, and various whistles and voices rose from the group.

   Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you crouched low, at eye-level with the bushes, and softly called out for two specific foxes, your hello muffled by the rest of the crowd.

   You gave up, feeling stupid and unconvinced that your almost-whisper would carry over the noise of the crowd, and sat on the ground, legs folded under you, deciding to wait until the group either got tired or another fox actually showed up for them. Just then, the bushes in front of you started to rustle, and your lovely grey ribboned fox jumped out, immediately crawling into your lap to nuzzle your face.

   The people closest to you turned at the noise and noticed you cuddling with him on the ground, and word started spreading throughout the group that someone had successfully lured out a fox.

   "Look! There's one running this way!" the ones at the front of the group called, and you looked just in time to see your other fox running towards you, straight past the tour guide and the rest of the group. You smiled fondly at them, before lowering your face to let both of them rub their cheeks against yours.

   "Ma'am, could you please not touch the animals?" the tour guide told you timidly, obviously not wanting to reprimand you for being able to actually call out foxes on the designated fox trail, but you understood it was mostly so others didn't start getting any ideas, thinking they had permission.

   You nodded sheepishly, lightly putting them on the floor before standing up, wiping the dust off your knees. However, the whole group watched as the foxes looped around your feet, even going so far as to jump up and paw at your thighs.

   "Do you work here? You're so good with animals!" a mom in the crowd asked, and you looked at the actual worker, unsure of what to say. He stared back at you with just as much confusion, before shrugging, leaving you to make up a convincing story on the spot.

   "Actually, these foxes used to live near me, but I live in a city, so I brought them here so they'd be safer than on the streets," you fibbed, though you gave yourself a pat on the back for how reliable the story was. If anyone really did have to ask, yes, you did live in a city, and yes, you would one hundred percent bring foxes and other animals to a forest or wildlife lodge. Did that really happen? No, but could it? The answer was yes, and you sighed in relief when the mom turned, accepting your answer. You giggled when the tour guide released a breath he didn't even know he was holding, and he continued the trail, sending a discreet wink your way.

   You didn't notice the way your foxes growled at that, and if someone had asked you why you had two foxes right at your heels, walking next to you protectively like a pair of guard dogs, you'd blink in confusion, oblivious to the reality of their words.

   Before you knew it, it was Saturday, souvenir shopping day. You slung on your bookbag, ready to put some weight in it.

   At the lodge's shopping centre, you saw gift shops, clothing shops, and random trinket shops alike. In the gift shop, you found crystal figurines of animals in and around the lodge, and a cute little bird the color of a clear sky caught your eye. For some reason, it reminded you of Tooru, and you couldn't stop yourself from buying it and watching as the cashier wrapped it in paper before setting it in a white velvet box, cushioned and safe. Huh, crystal bird, blue, bluebird. You may have found another nickname for Ruru. You absentmindedly slipped it into your bag, happy to have found what you were looking for so fast and a new nickname.

   But stores weren't anything if not eye-catching, and the shelf of plush animals distracted you. The fox plushies, specifically, were so similar to actual foxes that they'd be perfect replacement cuddle buddies for when you went back home to your big city.

   But then you felt incredibly embarrassed and childish for that, so you shook your head as you walked out of the shop, ignoring the way that thought stuck in your head like a moth to a lamp.

   Still, you found yourself walking through store after store after store. Once you finally snapped out of it, you had just stepped out of the birdwatching souvenir store, all too aware of the set of postcards themed after the various birds you could spot on the trail. You told yourself that the blue mohawk bird on the front was a great reminder of both the trail and Kozume, and made a mental note to get her to write something before you left, lessening your guilt over having bought something almost useless.

   By the time you came back to the cabin, your wallet felt significantly lighter while your bookbag was very obviously heavier. You had stuffed the velvet box, postcard deck, two maroon sweaters with "Inari Lodge" printed across the front with the forest's logo, and a large and heavy book about spirits and legendary deities that guard and dwell in the forest. According to the summary on the back, the book was basically a collection of the myths and legends surrounding the forest, including one about people that could transform from animal to person and back again. The cover of the book immediately made you think "grimoire", and you were set on buying it, if not for the stories, then for the aesthetic.

   You wondered briefly if it was real as you unclasped the leather string binding the book shut and flipped through yellowed pages with torn edges, looking at all the pictures that looked believable hand drawn and writing in a language you could only understand when you squinted your eyes.

   You had wrapped everything in the two sweaters, and then in the white scarf, making sure they were safe and at no risk of being crushed or damaged, especially the crystalline figure.

   "Are ya sure she isn't coming back?"

   "Yes, 'Tsumu, last I checked she was dropping off her keys to Kozume."

   "But she'll be back soon?"

   "Yeah no shit, genius, that's why you either get in here with me or stay behind."

   "Hey, I'm just makin' sure you're prepared for this y'know, in case you start crying for momma or somethin'."

   "Shut yer face and die."

   "What do we do now?"

   "I don't wanna pay for a ticket, 'Samu."

   "Me neither, but we can't hitch a ride in her carry-on anymore, it's going through TSA."

   They both leaned against the wall, realizing that they were both stupid and their plan was stupid squared.

   Atsumu looked up, the ribbon around his neck moving with him, and he watched you walk into the bathroom, leaving your luggage outside the door. He nudged Osamu, pointing at the bathroom door.

   "Nice," he praised.

   And if people saw two foxes crawling into a bookbag? It's the airport at three in the alternate airport timeline, who cares.

   "My bag is so heavy," you complained, flopping into your assigned seat. It was another window seat, and the view of the land underneath becoming smaller and smaller until it was covered by a sea of clouds made you feel a little better. Still, how did your bag get that heavy? When it was empty, it was literally lightweight, and when you were still shopping, it wasn't that hard to carry it as you went from store to store. You groaned, rolling your shoulder from the pain of carrying the boulder of a bag.

   "That's what I get for buying so much," you berated yourself, opening the flap and looking inside. Surprisingly, two fluffy foxes were curled up in there, resting comfortably on your white scarf. For a moment, you thought your foxes had hitched a ride and were coming home with you, but you'd obviously notice that, right? And besides, you did see the stuffed animals in the gift shop.

   "I can't believe I actually bought the stuffed foxes just because I'll miss the real ones," you huffed, blushing slightly, as if the foxes were there and could hear you. But the foxes were not there, you had left them at the lodge, so you settled for stroking the faux fur of the stuffed foxes, the silky smooth strands so lifelike that if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

   "Finally," you gasped, face planting into the soft fluffy white of your blanket. You tugged off Tooru's sweater and folded it neatly, walking out and placing it on your counter, ready to return. You rummaged through your bag, that you had dropped to the floor as soon as you opened the door to your room, and tugged out the scarf from underneath your very suspiciously heavy fox plushies. 

   You unwrapped the bundle, pulling all your souvenirs out before bunching up the scarf and throwing it into your laundry basket. You set the book and postcard deck on your bookshelf, next to other various books and collectibles you've found over the years, and grabbed the velvet box, feeling its smooth texture against the palm of your hand. You set it on top of the teal hoodie, before changing out of your jeans and shirt into shorts and an oversized tee, boyfriend style.

   Ugh, a boyfriend. You've been single for way too long.

   "Please let me wake up to a miracle," you prayed, closing your eyes and pulling a serene face, before immediately flopping over and falling asleep.

   Of course, you do not expect to wake up cuddled up to a warm chest while listening to someone messing around in your bathroom, the shutting of cupboards and a phone call drifting from the white door.

   You laid there, relishing the comfort that came from being flush against someone's side, tucked under their arm.

   That's when it hit you that strangers were in your house.

   You bolted up, using your hand to choke back the scream bubbling from your throat, not wanting to let either person know you were awake.

   You looked down, realizing that you had just left the side of a very handsome and very shirtless man, his eyes slowly opening when he felt the absence of your warmth, showing you his beautiful light brown eyes, getting lost in the gold specs like stars.

   You ripped your gaze away from him and moved to swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Unfortunately for you, the mystery man reached up and tugged you back down to him, holding a finger up to his very pink and very kissable and very attract— , wait, no. He held his finger against his lips, shushing you.

   "Wait, he's coming out. Stay beside me."

   Just as you opened your mouth to retaliate, he had already thrown your white covers over the both of you and looped an arm around you, his hand resting at your waist.

   The door to the bathroom opened, and yet another stranger walked out, though it was only him, making the total number of intruders two. He had the same eyes and lips, which were the definition of picture perfect, and he was also lacking in the shirt department. His brows furrowed, and you could already feel the argument starting.

   "What the hell do ya think yer doin'?!"

   "She prefers me."

   "No she doesn't!"

   "It's true, right doll?"

   Both pairs of identical eyes stared at you, and you started panicking under the pressure.

   "I don't even know you! This is literally stranger danger!" you yelled, jumping out of the warmth of both the blanket and the guy in your bed, dodging as his hand reached out to pull you back in.

   You pressed your back against the wall, staying as far away from them as possible. You then realized what you were wearing, and tugged your shirt down even further, mentally slapping yourself for wearing shorts that left almost nothing to imagination with a shirt that reached your thighs, which would put you at a disadvantage if you had to fight or flight.

   The stranger finally got out of your bed and walked next to the other, but it was only once they were next to each other that you realized they were twins, identical twins. Both had dyed hair, but one was blond while the other had grey hair. Their bangs were parted to opposite sides, so they kind of mirrored each other, which made you shiver.

   "Don't ya remember us?"

   "Yeah, you liked me better."

   As they started bickering, as almost all siblings do, you noticed the two sweaters you bought sitting on the edge of the bed. Snatching them and balling them up in either fist, you threw them at them.

   "At least wear these!"

   "Those sweaters would eat me alive, but they fit you so well," you sighed, sitting on your legs on your bed, the two still standing in front of you.

   As they pulled the cloth over their head, you noticed the ribbons tied around their neck as they popped free from the neckline. You felt your heart sink to your stomach when you realized they were grey and yellow ribbons.

   "'s not like we've never slept with you before," yellow ribbon said.

   "You even asked me to be your baby," grey ribbon added, catching his twin's elbow in his hand.

   "I haven't even been in the city for the past week! I was at the lodge forest thing."

   "So were we."

   "Yeah, we came from there."

   "Then how did you end up here?!"

   "We came with ya," yellow ribbon said matter-of-factly while the other shrugged in agreement.

   Your breath got caught in your throat as you flipped the flap of your bookbag over, looking at the empty space in dismay.

   "Where are my foxes?"

   "That's us!" they chorused, identical smirks of pride on their faces, as if being yours was something to show off or brag about. 

   "They were plushies! People cannot be plushies!"

   "No, they were real foxes, and we're real foxes, 'cause they were us."

   "Where the hell would I get real foxes?!"

   They saw the moment you pieced two and two together, your face turning from one of anxious anger to acceptance as you realized what they were trying to say.

   The ribbons. Their colors. The plushies that felt a little too real. That one night in your cabin. The day you fed them in that one cafe.

   They were your foxes.

   "Yup," grey ribbon nodded his head, and you shut your mouth, not wanting to accidentally say what you were thinking again.

   "Why did you come here? You belong in the forest!"

   "No, we're your foxes," they said in unison.

   "No you aren't," you groaned, covering your face with both your hands.

   The two of them had attached themselves to your side, and when you said that, they seemed to get even more annoyed, and so they snuggled even closer to you, an arm slung around your shoulders and around your waist.

   "What are your names?" you finally relented, relaxing in their grip.

   "Miya Osamu," the one with the grey ribbon said, pulling you closer from the waist.

   "Miya Atsumu, the better twin," the one with the yellow ribbon retorted, tugging you back with the arm around your shoulder.

   "Stop pushing me around! We barely know each other!"

   "Can you stop with that already?" Osamu said, though he had no actual anger or malice behind his words.

   "Or do we have to remind you who you belong to?" Atsumu said suggestively, and you braced yourself for whatever mischief he had planned.

   In one moment, you were sitting normally in the middle of your bed. In the next, you were back against your headboard, your head on your pillows. And you became a pillow, as Osamu tucked his face in your neck and Atsumu rested his head on your chest.

   "We're taking a nap together again whether you like it or not," Osamu said decisively, and you could tell that was that, no arguing.

   "At least let me pull those off, it's embarrassing," you complained, your hand drifting up to Atsumu's ribbons.

   "No," he said, catching your hand warningly. Something in his voice made you obey immediately. "That's mine."

   "Well this is mine too!" you replied heatedly, bringing a hand up and cradling Osamu's head against you. But instead of doing anything or acting out like any normal person would, Osamu started purring, a satisfied grin on his face while you had a look of dismay, your cheeks reddening. 

   Atsumu glared at him, moving your hand so your arm was wrapped around him, pulling him closer as well. You got the hint and raised your other hand to run your fingers through his hair, leaving you to deal with two purring fox-shifting idiots.

   "Fine, you're both mine, I guess," you gave up, fighting back a blush and pretending that statement didn't warm your heart as much as it did.

   "And your ours," they chorused happily, and you didn't even try to hide the pink spreading across your cheeks when they rubbed their faces against yours.

   "Okay," you said quietly, accepting the fact that them being yours and you being theirs made you feel something happy and content in your chest, something that was dangerously close to love. If you were like them, you were one hundred percent sure you'd start purring, too.

   I mean, you did say you wanted a boyfriend, and the universe was kind enough to give you more than what you bargained for.

   The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with yellow and red while the blues and purples of night crept closer. The clouds were fluffy and lined with silver, their normal white reflecting pink hues.

   The last rays of sunlight filtered through a sheer peach curtain, coating everything in gold lighting.

   Three people were sleeping soundly on a bed, the white blanket thrown over their tangled legs, breaths even and in sync. Dyed grey hair peeked out from under a chin, and blond hair tickled a collarbone. Natural hair was sprawled out on the white stuffed pillows.

   Osamu opened an eye, before raising his head and pressing a soft kiss to the sleeping beauty's lips.

   And if he raised a finger to his lips? Well, I can't say what happened next, because my lips are sealed.

oh my GOD did this take forever between writing this and school and the fanart of this (which i’ll post later) i took way longer than i normally would

that being said, i hope you still like it <3

[dzaneena]

2020 Recap, Onwards 2021!

New year always makes us think of how our previous year has been. It’s been a heck of a ride and I think it would be sort of a good way to remind ourselves of the hardships, lessons learned, and growth there’s been in the past year. Here’s how mine turned out. January

Oh, new year, new hope. I thought this would be the year I could make it mine. Get the things I’ve always wanted and spoil myself with every little thing I could not have when I was younger. Job is going well, financially stable and able, everything was fine. This month, I’ve purchased my first Macbook. Yes, apparently I’ve been sucked up into the apple ecosystem and now I want to experience all of it if I can. I did and I’m happy about this. It’s been a dream for someone who always had to save each meal into two so I could have it for my next meal just so I can save money.

February

Oh, the month of love! Yes, yes. I had the chance to travel to Thailand, being the temporary adopted child of a friend’s family. I was thrilled to be there and experience this one-of-a-kind experience. At this time, the virus was not that rampant with everything and there were no restrictions for travel. We thought everything was fine and would be fine. 

March

A week after arriving from our trip to Thailand, I got a text from one of my closest friends asking if I would like to spend a weekend in Vietnam with her. Well, of course I did! At this time, finances were a-ok! I could afford it. Plus, the food there was really good at a low price! We didn’t spend much on this trip. We just hung out and took photos here and there.  We arrived one day before the city announced General Community Quarantine. We were lucky to arrive at that exact day or we would have been stranded in another country for God knows how long. :( Work was feeling the effects of the pandemic already. 50% of our workmates were laid off. This was a sad, sad time. I couldn’t help but think of all our workmates who had to think of how to survive without work through this pandemic under the quarantine with little to no mobility. 

April

Work has been... work. Everyone had to cut their hours and get back to basic pay. I am thankful to still have work but this took a big hit with my finances, of course. I live alone. Recently paying off the house I’ve invested in from last year. 

This was also the month my friends practically forced me to play mobile games. Thank goodness they did! This was where all my rage/frustration was spent. 

May

Remember that house I invested in? Yeah, that went down the drain, literally lol. I’ve been having problems with leaks and puddles of water coming through the walls of the house which caused a chain of serious issues, health-wise and safety-wise. This was a hazardous house to live in. I guess it’s true what they say about things being “too good to be true”. I’ve tried to settle this with the landlord but I didn’t get not one penny back, not even my deposit. I’ve been paying this for over a year. Much, much regrets. There’s a whole lot that happened during this time. I had to move out and decided to just cut further losses and be done with it. I couldn’t sleep at night for no idea how many weeks/months because of all that money I’ve invested that just vanished. I still feel a weird kind of sadness every time it rains. It always flooded in that house whenever it rained. So you can see how much I relate to that movie “Parasite”. 

June

Lucky I have a house to still come home to. This was the previous house I lived in before purchasing that God-forsaken flooded house. I was adjusting and trying to make the best of what I could for the time being. I had a small renovation project as well. 

July

Renovation project going well and it was my joy to see how clients were happy about it. This was also the first time I was seeing my mother since January and it was only for a few hours because she had to go back to our hometown within 24 hours or else she would have to be quarantined. Traveling was such a pain during this time. We can’t even go visit our hometown to see our family.

On the bright side, I got to try out a lot of food (all home-cooked, of course). And I got to learn to cook some Korean food as well. I was well into the k-drama world for this whole time.

August

Kittens were growing up well. My cat gave birth in May but a lot of things happened then. I had 3 cats pregnant almost at the same time. Needless to say, we had to castrate our lover boy cat, Brutus. Though he had one last go before we did this and got another round of our cats getting pregnant. I can’t even. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Had the opportunity to do a product photoshoot for a local ice cream business. It was an amazing experience and it’s cool to think that people actually believe in my photography skills if I had any. LOL. 

September

My birth month. I found out that I wasn’t even worth one minute of people’s time to text me. LOL. Well, life goes on. (Insert BTS’ Life Goes On)

On the positive side, my boyfriend’s family decided to do a Korean dinner (Samgyeupsal, Kimchi Jjiggae, Tteokbokki) for my birthday. It was really sweet of them. 😭🥰 I couldn’t spend my birthday with any of my family but they spent it with me. I’m tearing up just writing this down hehehe thankful for this second family.

October

One of my closest friends was getting married. I kid you not, we were waiting for this day to happen ever since college. We travelled to the city where he was getting married with the Friendship Pause crew. (That’s a whole other story LOL) It was nice getting a nice moment down from all the crap we’ve been facing. 

I was also able to get back to my hometown for my mother’s birthday. Despite all the travel restrictions, we managed to push through. My eldest brother and I are the only ones not living in our hometown. 

November

Ahh, yes. The year is almost over but it still feels like we’re stuck in March. During the span of the year lately, I’ve been actively looking for a second job for extra income. And thankfully, because I’m such a “never give up, never surrender” kind of person, I’ve landed a few jobs project-based for this year. I’ve been a graphic designer, personal assistant, transcriptionist, food photographer, social media manager assistant, etc.  I’ve also landed my latest job from a start-up company. It’s amazing how some people can see your grit and potential. I pray we all get to do what we want to do in life so it won’t be such a chore to do. My first (online) job is the very first job that I actually enjoy and everyday, I am really excited to get work done. Hoping that this company recovers from the economic hit of the pandemic fast. 

December

Ahh, the last month for this challenging year. What could be in store for us? I think this pandemic has hit us physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically, and financially. It also makes you realize things. I realized that I’m no one’s go-to friend. I’m just that extra friend right there when you need me to be. Not a particular someone you call when something’s up. That’s okay, I guess. We can’t be everybody to...well, everybody! Haha! 

I’ve been into tech lately and with all the gaming I was doing, I created a gaming page somewhere along in those past months. Streaming games was one of my stress relievers. Hopefully, if I can have a stable source of income, I’ll be able to do this full-time seeing that traveling is still out of the picture.  All in all, this was such a shitty year. There are a lot of in-betweens that happened this year and I had to just highlight some things but basically, it’s just been so hard. I know I’m probably not the only one struggling and trying to survive on a daily basis. I am thankful that I have a job (3 actually, 4 if you count our online business on hiatus) and I am still able to put food into my stomach. But sometimes, we just need a good cry and some ice cream maybe.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! Thank you for actually caring to read my thoughts and random stuff I have in mind. We may not see each other but please know that I really appreciate your effort. 

On a lighter note, I hope everyone will be happier this coming 2021. Stay safe!

[smartstores-2021]

SmartStores Review 2021 - ⚠️Launch Discount & Huge Bonus⚠️

SmartStores Review – Introduction

Shopping on the internet is a MASSIVE undertaking. The pie is worth $4.2 trillion dollars. $4.2 billion dollars That’s more than most rich countries’ GDP. And, because of technology improvements in digital marketing, obtaining a piece of that massive $4.2 trillion pie has never been easier. But, before we get into how to get your slice of pie, let me clarify a few points. When I say “shopping online,” I don’t mean drop shipping from Alibaba, sourcing inventory, building complex e-commerce sites, selling junk on auction sites, complicated “Arbitrage” schemes, providing customer service, hauling boxes to the post office, or spending hundreds/thousands on paid advertisements.

==> Special Discount: Order Today With Best Price And Special Offers

All of these methods are outdated, time-consuming, and tedious ways to earn money through “online shopping.” And with those outdated methods come a slew of issues, such as sourcing low-cost inventory from China and spending thousands of dollars on it, building sophisticated e-commerce websites that require ongoing maintenance and upgrading, and so on. Thousands of dollars are spent on branding, marketing, and advertising. Now that you’ve seen what I’ve shown you, you know that “online shopping” has a HUGE potential and that money literally grows on trees in this industry. The barrier to entry for “little guy” marketers like you and me, on the other hand, is simply too high. At least, that’s how it used to be. Because they made the decision to take action. They developed an app that has revolutionized the “online shopping” experience for small-time marketers like themselves. It’s known as SmartStores.

SmartStores Review – What is SmartStores?

With Just 2 Simple Clicks, SmartStores Creates Automated “Smart” Affiliate Stores and Free Buyer Traffic! Will Allen’s SmartStores allows you to quickly create Automated Affiliate “Smart” Stores that are instantly filled with the best affiliate deals available online… Then, using over 100 established traffic sources, it generates free buyer traffic. It’s a one-stop shop for traffic and sales! SmartStores Will Allen guarantees your complete satisfaction! For 2021 And Beyond, The World’s First REAL Automated Commission Solution Instantly Gain Access To Today’s Most Profitable Platforms!

==> Read More Here: Don’t Miss Out Today’s Special Offer <==

With SmartStores, you can take advantage of today’s greatest platforms, which are already generating millions of dollars every year… WarriorPlus is one among them… Clickbank…JVZoo… Amazon/eBay… With just two clicks, you can benefit from these multi-million dollar platforms… Fill your SmartStore with their best-selling items for guaranteed sales… Then deliver it in minutes to 100 “cash-in-hand” buyer-filled traffic sources.

SmartStores Review – Pros and Cons

SmartStores Review – Pros:

NEWBIE FRIENDLY

This new state-of-the-art software will allow you to simply build a complete AUTOMATED affiliate online store with just a click of your mouse. There is no need to worry about design or anything like that. SmartStores will do all done for you instantly.

All you have to do is grab your copy right now at the lowest possible price, log in, and then activate your smart store within a few clicks of your mouse.

EASY-TO-FOLLOW SOFTWARE

With a few simple steps you can have an effective, and automatic “Affiliate Smart Store” up and running and receiving traffic in minutes. Thereby, you can finally stop struggling and live the worry-free “laptop lifestyle” that I’m sure that you’ve always wanted.

FREE BUYER TRAFFIC INCLUDED

This powerful offer helps you to create automated affiliate smart stores with just a single click and then with another click, you can instantly drive rivers of buyer traffic from 100 traffic sources to your stores.

Not only do you get a beautiful, slick, and profitable online store full of the hottest selling products online, but you can also get the traffic to go along with it. It is really as easy as drinking a glass of water!

STEP-BY-STEP TRAINING TUTORIALS

Whether you are still a newbie or a veteran in this field, when you invest in this SmartStores today, you’ll receive step-by-step video training programs revealing how you can quickly get free traffic and sales with SmartStores.

SmartStores Review – Cons:

So far, there are no downsides for Zest. My experience using the product has been flawless.

For a limited time, you can grab Smart Stores with an early bird discount price in these options below. Let’s pick the best suited options for you before this special offer is gone!

Who should buy it?

And It Works For ANYONE, Regardless Of Your Situation…

Stay At Home Parents

Retirees

Students

Recently Unemployed

Anyone Needing Extra “Bill Paying” Money Each Month

Anyone Not Making Enough Money To Make Ends Meet

Anyone Who Wants An Internet Business They Can Proudly Show Their Friends & Family

Anyone Who Wants True Financial Freedom And To Live The Exciting “Laptop Lifestyle”

Whatever your situation, SmartStores can benefit you in more ways than you can imagine…

Price and Evaluation

Front-end: SmartStores ($17)

Never Before Seen Software Builds Automated Affiliate “Smart Stores” And Then Drives Free Traffic To It From 100 Sources. How does SmartStores work?

With 1 click the Advanced SmartStores  Software builds an automated affiliate store, full of the hottest offers online, and then with another click drives unlimited free traffic to the store from 100 different sources… in just 37 seconds.

SmartStores OTO 1: SmartStores NO LIMITS – $27

SmartStores UNLIMITED unlocks additional features inside the app which allows you to generate unlimited SmartStores and unlimited free buyer traffic.

SmartStores OTO 2: SmartStores AUTOMATIC – $47

SmartStores AUTOMATIC is the automated version of SmartStores that generates unlimited free buyer traffic & unlimited SmartStores on complete autopilot… your customers get passive results 24/7.

SmartStores OTO 3: SmartStores $1k PER DAY – $47

This is a 100% done-for-you affiliate campaign that puts up to $1,316.71 into my account every day… and now your customers can easily copy my exact results and success in just 10 minutes or less.

SmartStores OTO 4: SmartStores INSTANT CLICKBANK CASH MACHINES – $47

This just-released software suite turns any WordPress blog into an automatic, autopilot, clickbank cash machine… running on 100% autopilot 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. This plugin suite, auto-generates Clickbank related posts, SEO links, and builds a list… within just a few minutes! Your customers will love it!

SmartStores OTO 5: SmartStores FREEDOM – $97

This is full resell rights packaged as a complete online business worth at least $76,865.05. It’s a proven product funnel that can begin generating real results for your customers almost instantly. Skip the years of struggle, eliminate the wasted effort, forget the trial and error… grab this upgrade and get a real, profitable online business handed to you on a silver platter.

Conclusion

Right now, you can own SmartStores for the introductory price of $17. You are being given the keys to the most revolutionary software ever seen if you are one of the lucky ones to successfully purchase this package at this low price.

You can finally obtain unlimited free buyer traffic from 100 proven sources and take a piece of the $4 trillion online buying pie.

Check it out right now to take advantage of this incredible offer, as this price will not last long. After the special offer expires, the price will shortly rise, so act quickly to “lock-in” the lowest possible price and save a lot of money.

(SPECIAL PROMO OFFER 2021) Click Here To Purchase at A Price As Low As $34

[leam1983]

It’s the end of the work week and, well...

I’m having thoughts on labor culture.

My father was born in 1958. He lived as the son of an absent father of five children who had no ability to truthfully express his love and care, and who instead chose to bury himself in work as a means to display his commitment. My paternal grandfather made and sold mattressees and died quite young of a cancer strain that today would’ve seemed benign. He was described as a hard worker, either up to his neck in his business or wanting just a scant few hours per day to himself. It made an aloof lover out of him and a distant father - who still loved his wife and children to bits but who felt emotionally castrated in a sense, as were men of the era.

The family consensus is that his work killed him.

My father is now 65 and survived a bout of Non-Hodgkinian Lymphoma. The oncologist and anyone with half a brain agreed that stress was the culprit. Early on, Dad had the family as an excuse for his tendency to overwork. He had to provide for us, after all, and garnish my mother’s meagre savings. All she has is her government-issued pension plan, while my father does have his own pension as a retiree of the City of Montreal’s Real-Estate Appraisal service. Considering, he felt obligated to pull a heavier load to bring in more, so they’d have better investment opportunities. Later on, he kept working out of a sense of fealty and attachment to his division, breaking out of retirement during the pandemic to join the work-from-home team. He wanted to help techs and city officials find ways to bring more of the traditionally snail-mail-based parts of the system online so the city’s Land Management service wouldn’t be paralyzed by COVID-19. What was supposed to be a single month turned into four, which turned into twelve.

By the end, they were begging him to stay on the team and to pull longer hours. We’re talking twenty hours per day, in some particularly grueling stretches. That means being logged in by breakfast and scarfing bagels down with Urban Design techs on Zoom instead of your own family, or having supper with your boss because she needs a play-by-play of the situation to stave off her executive anxiety.

Long story short, I didn’t see Dad much during the first wave. His reasoning was that he’d eventually stop, pool all this cash, and chuck it into his and Mom’s Registered Retirement Savings Account - with maybe an extra two thou or so in case the country reopened enough for their postponed trip to Cuba to take place.

Guess what? His zona flared up and he ended up with odd, shingly bumps along his scalp which to this day the local dermatologist grimaces at and tentatively has us dab with cortisone cream.

Mom, though? She’s a retired and registered nurse with a self-negating streak and a chronic propensity to undervalue her own physical ailments. Someone who quite literally understands the pain of busted hips on a clinical level because she was trained in Gerontology - and also someone who refuses to schedule an appointment with her GP and who inexplicably self-medicates with white wine.

As for me, I’m a 37 year-old man with a paycheck I consider massive with its meagre six bucks above the minimum-wage threshold - someone who chose to shack in with his folks until the current crisis ends and who therefore has a history of a single, willingly terminated apartment lease that originally began in the Planned Housing market. The apartment I want is basically a Barbie doll house for adults, a gleaming fantasy I’ll never have enough capital to touch unless I feel like trying my hand with criminal applications of my skills. The apartment I can get right now is a shithole, and I have the audacity to think I deserve a shithole that at least wasn’t someone’s former cockroach den.

Now here’s the kicker: I value my sanity and my health. I know my mental stamina levels and I know from experience that after working seven-point-five hours per day with the occasionally shorter Friday, I’ve found my limit. I could invest more if I worked more, yes, and I’m already in a better position than my parents, retirement-wise. I’ll never be rich, but I’m already set to be comfortable, provided I don’t spend my golden years trying to make it as an unsponsored TechTuber or anything else that’s equally ludicrous.

Where that’s a problem is in the toxicity this is generating. See, I have the gall to slide my daily schedule later so I can start at an hour that fits my biological clock and ends at an hour where I’m at my most creative. That means the folks saw me spending my pandemic mornings on Animal Crossing while Dad was trying to wrangle Excel spreadsheets for non-tech-savvy fellow Boomers while preventing the dog from eating his meeting notes. That means they guzzled vinho verde like it was Kool-Aid after seven while I made sure to find more concrete means to distance myself from work - ideally ones that didn’t involve functional alcoholism.

Naturally, what was bound to happen, happened: Dad soon spent his evenings calling me shiftless or “unwilling to commit”, while I was stuck watching him miss all the cues his stressed-out body were sending him. We already had Trump’s last desperate months and a global plague to handle, I really didn’t want my work to turn into more of a nuisance than it already is. I already love the people I work for and hate what I do (repeating the family cycle, it seems), but I’ve at least decided to give myself ample Me time every single day. 

I’ve paired that with smaller, if consistent portfolio investments, along with a few new habits I wanted to get into to stay saner. Dad pulls crosswords or plays competitive chess in the wee hours, while I usually lay down to meditate around midnight and fall asleep by 1 AM at the latest. I’m half-expecting my father to pull a Tyler Durden and to sneer at me, at some point. “Self-care is masturbation,” he’d probably say.

Looking at classifieds for rentals, it’s obvious that the entire system is predicated on abuse. Work yourself down to the therapist’s office, right down to the fucking bone, and you just might earn a half-decent retirement because nobody’s taught you to invest incrementally. Nope, Society seems to say, you’re supposed to buy, buy and buy some more, until you realize you have ten years left to start from scratch!

I remember Dad’s face on my eighteenth birthday. “Why would you want a Disability Care Savings Account, Brain? You just turned into a legal adult by Canadian standards - you’re in no rush, right?”

I told him the real gift I wanted for my birthday, that day, was a ride to the family’s Financial Investments counsel. I pulled up the PDFs I’d printed out and filled and brought them over. From then on, if I dropped a penny in my nest-egg, Ottawa would drop another one. If my share grew, so did the government’s. In the twenty-odd years since, it’s expanded exponentially.

Dad thought I’d done this to have a big cushion by the time I’d retire. Mom thought I’d done this in case my disability worsened and I started requiring equipment or physical assistance. Honestly, my dumb, if slightly prescient eighteen year-old self figured I’d rather spend my time reading or playing video games than working. I knew I’d need something to help cushion my admittedly low career-related ambitions. I might throw several thousands at a new computer every seven to eight years, but that’s because I’ve saved them up for just as long, little by little. I have no vices beyond what sillicon offers and what you’d find in the pages of a book and don’t exactly need a big ‘ol, stonkin’ humidor stuffed with conoisseur stogies.

I have a shoebox with a poked-out Ziploc bag and a sponge, with a handful of joints and a few Santa Anas I got off of a buyer’s pool from work. Five of us occasional chair-bar goons pooled cash together on Cigar Chief and cushioned prices with a single, shared and massive order. I’m nowhere near rich, but assuming the housing market can catch its breath eventually, I’ll be able to live modestly - with one or two markers of occasional luxury I’ll have chosen.

I have a shittier job than my father has had and I’ve chosen to be happier than him. It’s just sad that the usual response elevates overwork as the supposedly one, true way to leave a mark in society.

No, Dad. I don’t want to die while my own cells eat me alive, I want to die blazed out of my fucking mind, happy because I’ll have had time to enjoy my friends’ company and to finally make some sense out of Kerouac’s Subterraneans or to figure out what the fuck is going on in Joyce’s Illiad. I’ll die crusty as shit and fulfilled as a Pop Culture jockey, because I’ll have either finished Persona 5: Golden in my lifetime or I’ll have watched the entirety of the MCU’s output before Disney finally manages to kill their golden goose.

I want to die decades from now, feeling like I at least owned my choices and didn’t spend my time tethered to someone else’s professional expectations of me.

[scorpiosanssexy]

Shiratorizawa Car Boot Sale Headcanons

look these are the headcanons no asked for but have been stuck in my head for days so here we are.

to all my non-british followers here is a link explaining what exactly is a car boot sale (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Car_boot_sale) 

to my british babies @sugawarasimp​ and @lydzisanerd​ this is for you.

The Beginning

it all started when the Shiratorizawa Volleyball club funds were low, like really low

you would think that seeing as it is a private school that it would have decent funds 

wrong! the money is mostly spent on paying the coaches, which is then used as drinking money

so the team got together to try and come up with ways to earn some extra money so they could go on nights out and have some fun

Goshiki suggested a lemonande stand (nobody came), Semi thought that busking would work. ( tendou just scared everyone on the street)

so they were in despair until a low voice in the background said 

“What about a Car boot Sale”

Shitorizawa Boot Sale 

if you haven’t guessed already Ushijima is the one who has suggested it 

farmer boy over here has been doing these sales ever since i he was a child with his mother 

he forces the team to get out of bed every sunday at 5am and meet him in the field in order to set up the boot 

like this man takes his car boot sales seriously, like you do not want to be late

one time shirabu slept in and let’s just say that ushiwaka ran all the way to his house and came into his room and ripped the curtains open and proceeded to drag shirabu out the house 

yeah don’t mess with him 

he also seems to know everyone there, like it is weird, he will be chatting to these like old men who are selling antiques about farmer tings 

like what is the best time of year to grow tomatoes or like how the vegetable patch is coming along 

the team have never seen him this socialble ever. 

he doesn’t buy much though when he is there, he just kind of guards the table making sure people are not stealing 

he may or may not bring his portable radio with him and have the country radio on in the background 

and forces the team to sing with him 

Tendou is loving the car boot sales, like this is the first time he has ever been to one so this kid is the early stages of awe and wonder 

he always the only one that is really chirpy when the team arrive in the field 

no one questions it tbh like that is just tendou 

susprisely he can is a very good seller, comes with ridculous stories that some of the customers believe so they buy the items 

he earned the highest amount of money for the team, ushijima has been checking

look you know that 1 pound fish man song, i feel like tendou would do something like that ( here is the link lads it is an actual banger: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_Jvo7U39-A) 

he buys mostly anime figurines because they are much cheaper

Now Semi i swear is the only voice of reason on the team 

like you can tell on his face, that he is straight up not having a good time when ushijima forces everyone to arrive at 5am 

tendou usually buys him some instant coffee which he is very grateful for otherwise he would be cranky for the whole day 

he is usually broading with his camping chair and a huge jumper over the top (airpods in) just kinda taking in the fresh air 

his job is usually in the setting up as i feel he has a good eye for aesthetics

so he coordinates where all the items go on the table and how to get everything to fit in the boot 

ushijima also forces him to bring his guitar and play country songs to “attract customers” 

i feel like he has a really nice singing voice, and tbh most of the girls only come to the boot because there is this really hot mysterious looking guy there 

he is also makes sure the younger years do not get in trouble 

Shirabu is a bit like semi in the fact he would rather be sleeping but he hides how annoyed he is not to piss off his senpai’s ushijima 

he is the treasurer because i feel like this boy is good at maths 

ushiwaka will come and ask shirabu how the sales of the day are doing, just like a CEO would to a subordinate (which is hilarious) 

like he takes his job seriously 

he also helps with the sales with tendou but he usually explains all the prices tbh 

he sometimes treats himself to a fresh bacon sandwich and i will sit and eat it with this cute little content look on his face 

he mostly buys textbooks tbh, like he is a hard working student and textbooks can be expensive so he loves the fact he can get these material a lot cheaper 

he also likes buying stationary 

Goshiki, poor goshiki. 

baby really isn’t a morning person at all 

but he tries so hard because he wants to impress ushijima, like he arrives extra early with his packed breakfast 

but he is pretty useless in the morning, he just yawns constantly, he will try and help with the set up but he forgets instructions easily 

however once the day actually begins he perks up a bit more he is actually quite good at talking to customers 

like he is actually the only normal one there lmao

the old ladies absoulutely love him, like they think he is so kind and handsome (and they dig the bowl cut) 

honestly the only reason he goes back every week is the fact that these ladies literally gas him up and bake him some jam tarts 

now goshiki get’s really excited when looking at all the stands 

i definetely see this man as a hoarder so he buys some much random crap (for example a huge garnet cystal to put in his room)

ngl he is the type of person Tendou usually cons. 

Their Stall 

ushijima usually sells some of his home grown vegatables, like these are his pride and joy

he will not barter at all, like in his eyes his products are the best like he will not settle for less

tbh i would be scared to barter with, like have you seen him

Tendou usually sells his old Shouen Jump which are popular with the little kids

he also sells h3ntai magazines too, which are popular with y’know some of the older men

Semi sells some his old CDs and records, like they are really vintage ( carla would buy them) 

He also might have some old band posters from his emo phase that he sells too 

Shirabu does the classic stuff from childhood, like old clothes that don’t fit him, old toys he doesn’t need, also might sell some his old textbooks from junior high school 

Goshiki sells his old volleyball trainers or something or some old volleyballs too 

i also feel like he went through harry potter phase so he has the really wackass merch (he is a huffepuff btw) 

Overall, their stall has a mixture of everything and is really popular at the car boot sales because it is such a comical site 

also they are like the only good looking people there, so all of sudden girls carla  are popping down on a sunday morning 

Honestly, If any of my mutuals are into drawing and are stuck on ideas, I would sell my soul to this drawn

Like this team does weekly car boots and you cannot change my mind.

Carla 

[zvaigzdelasas]

ok! now i can see the comments.

first of all, maduro is not all to blame for his government. a lot of the country's problems came from the now opposition of right wing christians and fascist nationalists that chávez was in charge to fix.

he did try to fix it when he rose to power and reduced poverty by 20% using the fired up oil prices. even to educate people, like you say, and as it should be. however they did all of this with a very low level of economic sense.

the state became a state devoted to spend and spend. and get debt after debt with a non diversified economy that didn't dedicate its spending to industrialize and better the petrol business. plus he didn't even try to fix the corruption that had impoverished the nation in the first place. this was all of the faults that maduro copied from his predecessor, having the distribution of food completely to himslef, and then, he had the nerve to blame it on the faults of capitalism, the same way you are doing right now. must be amazing not to have the fault of anything at all.

totalitarianism must be defined in this case by the way he wants to endlessly stay in power, the way how, as i already mentioned, threatened his people with not building the 500k homes he had promised over his lost at the legislative elections in 2015. look it up!

the people tried to actually kick him out in a referendum that he slowly killed with the help of the national electoral council.

he has very loyal friends in congress, among judges, in the supreme tribunal of justice, and, as mentioned the nec. also, he has declared states of exception NUMEROUS times to do whatever the fuck he wants.

these are all facts, it isn't a matter of whether i'm a marxist or a stupid nazi libertarian, these are all things that led up to venezuela's downfall.

he even tried to change the constitution that chávez made because even that hinders him from becoming the fascist state he wants to accomplish.

do you actually think the people who denounce him are capitalist brainwashed idiots??? all of them? even those who died in the street teargassed and shot for opposing the absolute tyranny that is going on here??

he even uses paramilitary to enforce his rule, giving out guns to non state loyalists to instill fear and panic.

now going back to what you replied to me: so where did that money go? chávez and maduro were supposed to invest in education, homes and skilled labour? where is that? why haven't they done it after a decade of government? they don't have it because it was all under a brainless economic model that forgot very quickly about the poverty ridden masses that today starve and die under this dictatorship.

just because it had good intentions and just because you have a man with a mouth that babbles against the united states doesn't mean he is the "shining beacon that we must defend", that is literally the same reason why a lot of people voted for donald trump: "because he's funny, because he says things that i like, because he doesn't speak like other politicians"

and frankly i find your take on colombia absolutely ridiculous, while it is true that it is a right wing government, there is a lot of opposition to both the extreme right government and the authoritarian left that lives on the other side of the river.

actually, my sources (and the reason i know so much spanish) come from marxist and leftwing colombian and venzuelan journalists that have discussed with venezuelans of all classes and forms to make actual criticism of the regime and the idiot who controls it

You should check out the post linked at the end here. most of this comment is honestly rly silly & making a whole lot of assumptions I've never said anything about, so honestly just ignoring most of it as a misdirected outburst of anger.

Most of the sources in the longer post are english, but if you want I can get them in spanish too. Neither language nor nationality are signs of trustability.

Check it out

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

What's so unnatural about working for a big company, these qualities must have been in the other half are going to get replaced eventually, why not work there? Most people like to be swept off their feet by a vigorous stream of words. Or a phone that is actually a computer.1 And if you want to inhabit. In the long term, but it seems a bad road to go down. For example, I was taught in college that the idea will change, but has to rely on customs to protect us. But the craftier ones achieve the same level of performance with less effort, surely that's more impressive. And you can tell that from indirect evidence.

One of our axioms at Y Combinator use Apple laptops. So at the last dinner; it's more of a language is made entirely of expressions, each of which returns a value. What you've got is a description in terms of leads, it sounds like something cooked up by the high-minded Edwardian child-heroes of Edith Nesbit's The Wouldbegoods.2 They could buy some stock directly to the users as you do in school under the name mathematics is not at all. You can see this happening already. But I think I know what they are talking about the taste of apples in a dish made of equal parts apples and jalapeno peppers. They literally think the product, pending lawsuits against the company, whereas after a series A round. Assholes, he says. Hacking and painting have a lot of time on bullshit things or lose to people who don't believe in gods, life commands respect. As he is at pains to point out that successful founders still get rich by creating wealth and getting paid proportionately, it would not be the actual statement of the author's main point.3 Northern Europe would feel most at home. Lisp I have often wished I'd had the temperament to do an absurd comedy, which is what options amount to, they'll raise the stock price.

Because the best investors only rarely conflicts with accept offers greedily and get the desired result. I use with an external monitor and keyboard in my office, and by that point the future flips state. _____ What made it not a Ponzi scheme. To a lot of press coverage until we hired a great CFO, who fixed everything retroactively. Emmett Shear, Sergei Tsarev, and Stephen Wolfram for reading drafts of this. Poverty implies you can live cheaply, and this trick merely forces you to think well. It's conventionally fixed at 21, but different people cross it at greatly varying ages.

Someone like a judge. But it was the scripting language of two moderately popular systems, Emacs and Autocad, and for filters it's textual.4 I know.5 An office environment is supposed to suggest efficiency.6 Notes Many think successful startup founders turn out to work will probably seem flamingly obvious in retrospect. That opportunity for investors mostly means an opportunity for new investors, because until you're profitable that's who you have to customize something for an unsophisticated user.7 You don't need to do here is loosen up your own mind about whether they want to do a better job than Samsung and HP and Nokia, and that will be forced on investors as founders become more powerful. I'm not trying to make Web sites for galleries—that's the ticket! So I don't think you're weird, you're living badly. That's what happened to Einstein: Through the reading of popular scientific books I soon reached the conviction that much in the technology business.

Notes

Maybe that isn't the problem is the most successful companies have been Andrew Wiles, but whether it's good, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them. To get all that matters financially for investors. No one seems to me like someone adding a few hours of advice from your neighbor's fifteen year old to get only in startups is very common for startups to kill their deal with the founders'.

So during the entire West Coast that still require jackets for men.

If you did. When one reads about the cheapest food available. Another danger, pointed out, First Round excluded their most successful startups, which usually revealed more than others, no one is now very slow, but those are usually about things you waste your time working on your thesis.

A startup's success at fundraising, because it was true that the middle class values; it has about the team or their determination and disarmingly asking the right direction to be on fewer boards at once, and they hope this will make it easier to say incendiary things, they only even consider great people. That would be more precise, and on the spot very easily. They act as if a third party like YC is involved to ensure startups are often unknowns. Adam Smith Wealth of Nations, v: i mentions several that tried to attack and abuse.

It also set off an extensive biography, and the low countries, where w is will and d discipline.

Though in a limited way, they'd have taken one of the word wisdom in ancient Egypt took exams, but mediocre programmers is the fact that it killed the best case. University of Vermont, 1991, p. 17. Starting a company becomes big enough, it would take Abelson and Sussman's quote a number here only to emphasize that whatever the valuation a bit much to generalize.

Start by investing in a spiral. If you want to impress investors. If someone speaks for the entire West Coast that still require jackets for men.

Thanks to John Gruber, Daniel Gackle, Jessica Livingston, Patrick Collison, Robert Morris, Joe Gebbia, and Eric Raymond for sparking my interest in this topic.

[medialit-posting]

"My stand about Plagiarism, Piracy Bias Media, and the like.."

NEW BLOG CONTENT AHEAD!!!

We are living in a world where almost everything are readily accessible for all of us. We can easily research almost every information we desire and needed, we can download everything on the Internet; movies? games? music? name it! News and media information are readily available online, from journalistic article, news, blogs literally EVERYTHING is on the Internet and available online... Moreover we also have the presence of new and traditional media to satiate our endless needs. However, this usage lf Internet has its pros and cons. Various issues surfaced online, now I am going tp share to you my stand about my stand about Plagiarism, Piracy Bias Media, and the like... which are mostly issues surfaced in the digital world.

MY STAND ABOUT PLAGIARISM...

Plagiarism is known as the theft and dissemination of other people's words and ideas, if a person commits to this kind of crime he or she uses other people's words and ideas as if itvis theirs. Plagiarism is a heinous offence. It normally earns you an F on your work at the university level. Or if your university is stricy enough you're not able to graduate or finish the course that you're currently taking which would cause to give you a bad reputation or worse a bad life. Given that a student can also get thrown out of the institution if he or she plagiarizes repeatedly, one must avoid in doing or committing this kind of offensive violations. The punishments sanctions and the like, varies from the university or institution that you're part with or the violator's.

Why is plagiarism prevalent across universities? Some of them are linked to the way we access information. Don't you know a question answer? Just google it! Just google it! So we are a little like the dogs of Pavlov. The way we study, the same behaviour. In high school, students sometimes don't have ample research skills and instead look at anything online. This googling culture has a negative influence on the self-confidence of students. Students start most assignments by hearing what others have to suggest rather than thinking about themselves. As a business, we have a responsibility to empower students to feel assured that they can be great critical thinkers. Only thus will plagiarism be treated correctly. If a person is caught plagiarizing, his or her reputation is definitely tarnished and that person might lose their work. We all should obey the law just because we are just avoiding ourselves in getting caught. If we value original thought, personal integrity, and scholarly research, then we will naturally want to avoid plagiarism. That’s why it’s important to cite your sources and know how to integrate quotations properly. But if you only aim to be stop being caught, you're in great danger because you need to follow the law already. You would of course want to stop plagiarism if you respect original thinking, personal integrity and scientific evidence. Therefore, it is necessary to quote your sources and to know how to properly incorporate quotes.

Links for pictures :https://copyleaks.com/blog/how-do-plagiarism-detectors-work/

https://sundial.csun.edu/138189/opinions/the-heightened-use-of-plagiarized-essay-services/

Due to what was discussed above, one might think they would never commit to this kind of crime or act (Plagiarism). Unfortunately, to some or most people who commit to this kind of crime they have a lot of reasons. Here are the possible reasons or factors as to why some good workers and students sometimes plagiarize :

Panic of the last minute

Feels of insufficiency

Incomprehension of what plagiarism is

Note slippery

Copying ideas blindly, often in the same order

Work on a job and handing out similar documents

Quotations from the bibliography, but not from the paper

Yet ignorance is no excuse even when plagiarism is unintentional and unintentional. You must quote your own sources and argue.

From the discussion above, now I can conclude that I myself, all of us should stand AGAINST plagiarism. There are a lot of ways to fight and avoid committing such offensive act. We can always paraphrase, put references and include citations or quotations. Together let's stand AGAINST plagiarism and the people who commit such acts.

MY STAND ABOUT PIRACY...

If a person has a limited knowledge, he or she might say thay piracy only happens in the confines of the Earth's ocean. If you're this person then you need help- you have to be aware and be knowledgeable about the fact that piracy doesn't take place in the sea or ocean - it happens everyday in our lives, in business world, media and most especially it happens online. We love free items right? I mean who would want to spend money on things that we can get for free. However, this kind of mentality might lead us to doing illegal activities such as piracy without even knowing it. According to economic times the definition of piracy is that "Piracy refers to the unauthorized duplication of copyrighted content that is then sold at substantially lower prices in the 'grey' market. The ease of access to technology has meant that over the years, piracy has become more rampant. For example, CD writers are available off the shelf at very low prices, making music piracy a simple affair." There have been several regulations to prohibit secrecy. Internationally, piracy laws are strict and punitive in nature in developing countries. It does not gain attention nationally in Asian countries, and more in India too, because of more engaging topics. However, the industry has been involved in stemming red, in particular IT and music industry. These organisations identify music piracy outlets and then carry out police raids. However, there are few convictions and the punishment is not sufficiently harsh to discourage.

Link for the picture https://haulixdaily.com/2019/02/piracy-access-2019

Video pirates, cable piracy and DVD/CD piracy are achieved in several different ways. The film is made by a video-cassette without the correct permission of the right holder - i.e. producer. Video piracy takes place. Film producers also sell video rights to another group, who makes video cassettes for sale or loaning (typically after six weeks of release in theatres). The on sale video cassettes are only intended for home views. Cable piracy applies to illegal cable network transmission of films. Films, in particular new releases, are often seen via cable without the rights holder's permission. Piracy in satellite channels is an unusual occurrence, since they are structured and do not usually screen movies without purchasing right. Music piracy involves the illegal reuse of music cassettes, which flood the market until a new release is released. The sales of music companies hit hard by the influx of pirated compact disks and cassettes, as they are in store at considerably lower prices. In the foreign market there is DVD/VCD piracy of Indian films. The prints sent for film screening abroad are usually pirated at any airport in the Middle East. Prints of DVD/VCD are able to be sent to Pakistan. Such prints can also travel from Pakistan to Nepal and come by land to the country.

link for the picture https://variety.com/2018/digital/news/piracy-survey-illegal-content-muso-1202829757/amp/

From the discussion given above, I conclude that me and you ; all of us should stand against piracy. Although we get to consume media products for a lower price or some are even free we should remember that the people behind these media products worked really hard fro their movies, songs or music etc. to get produced... We should enable and let humanity win against "practicality". Therefore I encourage everyone to stand AGAINST piracy and against the people who continues to commit this kind of crime.

MY STAND ABOUT BIAS MEDIA AND THE LIKE...

As time continues to pass by, our technology continues to get advance. However, the presence of traditional media is still very much alive and kicking as to this industry continues its best to be in the competition. We continue to use simultaneously the media products offered by both new and traditional media... Now the concern is are we really keen enough in making sure that what media products we consume are not biased? How do I stand in this issue and the like (other related issues regarding media bias, piracy and plagiarism.)

According to lumen learning media bias "Media bias is the bias of journalists and news producers in the selection of events and stories that are reported, and how they are covered." addition to thay according to them "The term “media bias” implies a pervasive or widespread bias contravening the standards of journalism, rather than the perspective of an individual journalist or article. The direction and degree of media bias in various countries is widely disputed." From this we can say that not all information presented in the media are the information that we have to believe to. We should not let ourselves be spoofed by these journalists, television programmers, broadcasters, writers etc. we should take time to analyze and even fact check the information that we have received. Information that you might have read online, heard on the radio, or even the news you watch on your favourite channel. We should analyze and think if the information or news is biased or not.

link for the picture https://dailybruin.com/2019/05/09/the-quad-media-coverage-skewed-by-biases-of-journalists-american-society

"Practical limitations to media neutrality include the inability of journalists to report all available stories and facts, and the requirement that selected facts be linked into a coherent narrative. Because it is impossible to report everything, selectivity is inevitable. Government influence, including overt and covert censorship, biases the media in some countries, for example North Korea and Burma. Market forces that result in a biased presentation include the ownership of the news source, concentration of media ownership, the selection of staff, the preferences of an intended audience, and pressure from advertisers." (Candela, 2019). This is true and is happening in our country, based on what my teacher have said the a television channel is so biased in reporting, writing and heading of news towards the president and the government in general. She also stated how this channel has been violating laws in paying tax that's why it was forced to shutdown from giving its services. Since, I think highly of my teacher I think she really has a point and one might think that the closure of the said station if for everyone's good. We should not tomerate media bias, just like what happened to a certain news channel we should take action if we can to fight media bias.

link for the picture https://thecord.ca/how-media-bias-effects-reader-perception/

There is an attempt to correct bias; the round table is a method used to prevent bias, in which members of opposing viewpoints comment on an issue. This approach allows different viewpoints to be expressed in the media in principle. The organizer of the report is also responsible, however, for selecting people who really represent the broad opinion, for asking non-detrimental questions and fairly editing and arbitrating their statements. A point/counterpoint may be as unjust as a simple biased article if done carelessly, implying that the losing party has lost its merits.

The disclosure of affiliations which can be viewed as a potential conflict of interest is another tactic used to prevent partialism. This is particularly obvious when a news outlet publishes a story that is important to the news organization or its owners or conglomerates. The laws or regulations regulating stocks and shares typically include this divulgation. Commentators on stock news stories are also compelled in these companies or in their rivals to reveal their ownership interests.

Overall what is my standing towards media bias (piracy and plagiarism) and the like... well just like what I have said in the previous paragraphs together we should stand AGAINST media bias, piracy, plagiarism and the like because it is the right thing to do. We should eradicate toxicity and evil in our world whether its digital or not. It is our jobs as human beings to spread humanity whether it is online or not, we should always consider going against issues like this so that slowly but surely we can change the world the we are currently live on for the future generations and for the betterment of all human beings.

REFERENCES :

https://natureofwriting.com/courses/essay-writing/lessons/doing-research-2/topic/plagiarism/

https://courses.lumenlearning.com/boundless-politicalscience/chapter/media-bias/

https://m.economictimes.com/definition/piracy

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 9

Warnings: a couple of bad words I think

Word count: 1.7k (sorry for the short chapter!)

A/N: Apologies for getting this out a day late you guys. This week was something else. Anyways, here’s a couple thousand words of mutual pining! Enjoy responsibly. The slow burn continues, and I would apologize for continuing to string you guys along, except I am literally not sorry. 

She chewed on the cap of her pen, staring at the purchase orders in front of her. Her eyes slid over the same lines again and again, not reading a single word. Numbers and letters blurred together across the page. She didn’t even realize she wasn’t reading them.

It had been like this all morning - her brain couldn’t stay here, in the fluorescent sterility of her clinic, behind a desk, in an exam room. Her patients’ voices floated through her ears, just white noise humming in the back of her mind. She kept pinching her leg, trying to bring herself to the present, but nothing she did worked. She couldn’t focus on anything, anything that wasn’t-

-Bucky’s waist between her arms, squeezing him tight as she saw the goosebumps raise on his arms in the night air. His jacket still sat on her shoulders, keeping her warm on the back of the bike as they sped home, only two of them, painting country roads in light and sound-

The pen dropped to the desk, startling her. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, though thankfully no one was around to see her driven to distraction at the mere thought of-

No. Nope. Not right now.

This is so unprofessional, she scolded herself.

Charlotte poked her head into the office with a knock, announcing another patient this afternoon, and Y/N sighed and pushed back from her desk. Tried to get her head in the game. In the exam room, her patient (a routine checkup) babbled about the corn harvest and the price of tractor tires and something else she’s not listening to - snapping her gloves into the trashcan and-

-the door opened softly, him tugging her along with their hands still laced together, the clubhouse dark and quiet, and they’re hushing their giggles like teenagers who have things like curfews and bedtimes. She feels a little dizzy watching him smile over his shoulder at her, and there is something in it, in the way his eyes are so wide and bright in the dark, and when she bumps into him by accident - motorcycle legs unsteady - he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her through the halls-

“- a whole month?”

The patient has her eyebrows lifted, expectant.

“...I’m so sorry, what did you just say?”

“I was just saying that it was hard to believe we’ve gone nearly a month without rain,” the woman said, mouth curling into a sly smile.

“Oh. Oh, yes you’re right.” Y/N shook her head. “At least the harvest is nearly done anyway.”

“Mm. So what’s his name?”

“Who?”

“You know who - the man you’ve been thinking about this entire appointment instead of listening to me talk about corn.”

Y/N floundered, tripping over herself in an attempt to deflect the question.

“No one, it’s nobody,” she shook her head vehemently. “I’m just a little tired today, so I’m spacing out a little. I’m very sorry about that, so unprofessional of me.”

“Mhm.”

**********

“Hey! Earth to Barnes!”

“Huh?”

“I’ve asked you three times where you put the toolbox.” Sam had his arms crossed, smirking. “Too busy thinking ‘bout your girl?”

“She is not my girl, Wilson.”

“You sure about that?”

-she shushed him for laughing out loud when she tripped over the common room couch, but she couldn’t stop smiling either, and he couldn’t believe how much she glowed even in the dark. Couldn’t pull his hand away from where their fingers had been laced tightly since they were sitting together on the grass-

“Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure.”

“Whatever you say man, I’m just looking for a toolbox.”

Bucky pointed behind the bar, where he knew that Clint would have left the tools after working on a leaky sink.

“Probably back there. Barton was using them.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Bucky didn’t reply, just rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his gun. He always carried, part of the job, but now that he was practically serving as Y/N’s bodyguard, he checked and re-checked his weapons on a daily basis. He was carrying 2 extra knives in his boots now, besides the one in his belt, and he sharpened them every other day. It soothed him a little, the routine preparation, knowing he was in control. That would keep her safe.

And then, afterwards, he could tell her everything. Get it all off his chest. If she was still listening after that, then maybe they could start with dinner. Or a movie. Something normal, low pressure - he was terrified of scaring her away.

Staring at the can of grease on the coffee table in front of him, his mind couldn’t help slipping back to-

-standing in the hallway outside her door, him leaning against the wall and smiling at her, still holding her hand. Her eyes were bright as she smiled back at him, their faces only inches apart, noses almost touching. He wanted to kiss that smile, and he thought, with that look in her eyes, that she might let him-

The grease can clatters off the coffee table, knocked over by a twitch in his hand. He cursed and tried to snatch it up before too much of the oily stuff leaks out onto the rug underneath the coffee table, but he could already see the inky stain soaking into the fibers. Nat was going to have his head.

**********

There were stacks of files on her desk to go through, all of them old patients; she volunteered to help out with the clerical side of it all, sorting out the patient files, transferring or shredding whatever was no longer needed. It was tedious, but so was sitting alone and refreshing her inbox. 

Y/N shuffled another file over to the ‘Keep’ stack, having made her own notes on the patient’s chart just this morning. She glanced at the pile that hadn’t been done yet - it mounded on her desk, threatening to spill over into chaos on the floor. She should have been grateful for the distraction - for anything that would keep her from thinking about Bucky as she had done all morning. But as the afternoon wore on so did her boredom, tugging at the fuzzy edges of her mind and making her stare at the clock as the minutes ticked on, slowly bringing the end of her day.

She was rescued by a knock on her office door, Stacey poking her head in.

“You’ve got a walk-in. I think he’s been here before.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Y/N tugged on her lab coat and hung her stethoscope around her neck as she stood from her desk. The digital clock in the corner of her computer screen blinked 3:58 p.m. Only another hour or so until Bucky would pick her up…

She snapped her fingers and wrenched herself back to the present, however unwillingly. There was a patient waiting. A little flag outside the door told her he was in exam room 2. She took the little chart from its place by the door, flipping it back to take a quick look before she went in.

He looked up at her when the door opened, giving her that same sleazy smile she remembered.

“Hey, doc,” Rumlow waved with his fingers. “Long time, no see, huh?”

**********

They were supposed to be working on Steve’s bike, getting some overdue maintenance done on her before their big meeting this week. Stark and a couple of his guys were coming down, starting the prep for their final move on this mission.

As if reading his mind, Sam spoke up.

“You ever think about what you’re gonna do when this is over?”

“I think you asked me that the first time we met,” Bucky grunts, hefting the toolbox from its place in the garage. “Back in the Army.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Got me in a lot of shit since then.”

“Didn’t answer the question.”

Steve’s bike sat propped up in the middle of the garage, and Bucky dropped the toolbox next to it, grabbing the oilcloth slung over the seat. He didn’t look back at Sam.

“Course I think about it,” he shrugged. “But I still don’t know.”

“Hm. I figured you would need to go see about a girl.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but dropped to his knees, flipping the box open. His voice was softer when he spoke. 

“She’s not really looking to build a life here, you know.”

“So? Neither are you. Just part of the job.” Sam shook his head. “I swear you are the biggest fucking idiot if you-”

Bucky threw the dirty oil rag at him over his shoulder. Sam squawked as the rag hit him in the face, and dove for Bucky, the two of them grappling on the drop cloth spread over the garage floor. Though both men were strong and fit, Bucky had the advantage of sheer muscle mass, and managed to pin Sam on his stomach with a hand twisted behind him.

“Say ‘uncle’.”

“Alright, alright asshole - uncle, okay? Uncle!”

Bucky shifted his weight and eased up onto his knees, letting Sam roll over. He laid there, flat on his back, for a moment and gave Bucky the finger.

“You started it.”

“Hey idiots!” It was Natasha, standing in the doorway, rolling her eyes. “Get in here. You’ve gotta see this.”

Sharing a look, they scrambled to their feet and followed her out of the garage, down the hall to the common area. Most of their fellow Avengers were already there; Steve, Clint, and Wanda were clustered together on the couch, with Nat behind them, leaning over the back. Thor, recently returned from a cross-country ride with his brother, sat in the armchair, rubbing his chin.

“What is it?” Sam asked, making his way around the couch. “What’s going on?”

Steve looked up, his brows dark and drawn together. His eyes slid past Sam and straight to Bucky, and the look softened a little with...was that pity? Bucky’s stomach dropped.

“What is it, Steve?”

Steve swallowed harshly, licking his lips. Glancing down, Bucky noticed he was holding a piece of paper in his hands, small and square like a notepad.

“Buck…”

“Fuck, Steve, what?”

Blowing a breath out his lips, Steve held out the note to him.

“This was left on the front door - not sure when, we just found it 10 minutes ago.”

The paper was from a notepad - a prescription pad, one from the clinic, with Y/N’s name printed across the top in a small, neat font. No prescription was written on it, though. A skull and crossbones was drawn in crisp, black marker, bleeding through the thin sheet. At the bottom, a short note:

SEE YOU SOON, DOC.

[certain-as-the-sun]

Desire

Desire: Companion piece to Hey Jealousy and Love Me Anyway. Inspired by “Desire” by Ryan Adams 

Two hearts fading, like a flower And all this waiting, for the power For some answer, to this fire Sinking slowly, the waters higher Mmm, Desire Desire

So much had changed. Adam was back. Adam was sober. And she was happy. Belle was excited about the future for the first time in nearly six years. They had agreed that for the first three months of their newly reformed relationship they would not spend the night together. When they said goodnight at the end of their night they would go to their respective homes. Even Dr. Porter, their therapist, agreed that making intimacy boundaries would be in their best interests. She recommended that they treat their new relationship as if they were back in the Regency period. Belle giggled at the thought of dating at their age with a chaperone. Lumiere was more than happy to act in that role.

“Pop, you don’t have to sit directly behind us like we’re sixteen,” Adam said when they went to a movie. “You can sit a few rows back.”

Another time they were snuggled on the sofa watching TV and Cogsworth tapped Adam on the head with a flyswatter. “Break it up. Leave room for Jesus.”

Their antics annoyed Adam, but to Belle it was sweet. It also made her sad to know that her own father wasn’t there to give them grief. Maurice hadn’t always liked Adam but he did believe that the boy would one day get his head on straight. It took some time but it seemed like he had finally gotten his shit together. Maurice would be so proud of him.

Belle decided that morning that tonight was the night. Three months had passed since he came back into her life. Three months of twice a week sessions with Dr. Porter, one with Adam and one without. With Dr. Porter's help, she was able to let go of some of the deeply ingrained anger she felt towards Adam. She loved him. That was an undeniable fact. But letting him back in all the way didn't come as naturally as it had the first time. He'd left scars behind, and as much as she wanted to pretend they weren't there, she had to work through them before opening the door again. Talking with Dr. Porter had been so healing. She was ready.

There was a giddy excitement about tonight, and she had a few things to do to get ready for it.

Her first stop was to the mall. She stood in front of the small lingerie shop. Belle wore modest and practical undergarments most of the time. Nothing too flashy or fancy. The only person she wanted to see her in her skivvies hadn’t been a factor for years. Now he was back. Now she needed something that was so unlike her it would make his heart stop. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath she stepped inside.

Unlike Victoria’s Secret and the other “trashy” lingerie shops Belle was familiar with, Madame Garderobe’s shop was filled with soft colors and vanilla. Belle browsed the racks unsure of where to start. An older woman stepped out from behind the curtain and smiled at her new customer.

“Ah cherie, welcome,” she said. “How can I help?”

“Well, um, it’s my—it’s a long story,” Belle stammered. “It’s the first time my boyfriend and I are going to be together after a long separation.”

The older woman looked Belle up and down. “I see. And what look are we going for? Seductive temptress? No. Smoldering sin? No that’s not right either.” She fussed around a display and came back with several items that Belle couldn’t name or figure out how they went on.

“Since this is your first time in a long time,” she said, a delightful French accent giving her voice a delightful air of sophistication. “He must work for his prize. Come, come.”

Without a second to process what was happening, Madame had Belle in the large dressing room. “We want to mimic the first time he saw you in this way,” Madame said, helping Belle out of her dress.

“It was a perfect moment in time,” Belle said. “Adam, he was my first. My only.”

With no secrets, no obsession This time I'm speeding, with no direction Without a reason, what is this fire? Burning slowly, my one and only Mmm, Desire Desire Desire Desire

They had been dating exclusively for nearly three months. Signs for the spring formal had been popping up for the last week. Parties and school dances had never been something on Belle’s radar. But now that she was with Adam, she thought it might not be so bad. She didn’t want to come straight out and tell him she wanted them to go to the dance. She wanted him to figure it out on his own.

It took a bit. Subtle hints from his dads. Walking past signs in the hallway she made casual conversation about the dance. About two weeks before the dance was to happen, it finally clicked.

“Hey Pop?” Adam asked Lumiere. “What’s the best way to ask Belle to the spring formal?”

“Looks like Hatter wins the pool,” Cogsworth laughed from behind his newspaper. “We have been nudging you to ask Belle for weeks.”

“Am I too late?” Adam asked.

“No, but you need to ask her soon,” Lumiere said. Then he brought Adam under his arm and whispered, “Here’s what you’re going to do.”

Adam met Belle outside the library where she spent most of her morning before classes started. He had cut six roses from Cogsworth’s garden and made them into a small bouquet with Lumiere’s help. Two red, two pink and two yellow wrapped in green florist tape and accented with a yellow ribbon.

“What are these for?” Belle asked, putting them to her nose.

“Because I’m an idiot,” he said, taking her hand. “Belle, would you do me the great honor of allowing me to escort you to the spring formal?”

Belle smiled and burst into giggles at his formal request. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

Most girls at their school had been planning their spring formal looks since Christmas. So there wasn’t a lot to choose from at the various dress shops in town. She drove to the next town over and in a small bridal shop she found her dress. It was made of soft yellow gold silk. The bodice had a deep plunge, the modesty protected by a lace of off yellow that sat off the shoulders and down to elbow length sleeves. The skirt was full and had two layers; one to form a base and the other flounced and fluttered when she spun. A belt of hand embroidered flowers sat at her waist. It was far too grand a dress for a high school formal. But Belle loved it. It fit perfectly and wasn’t out of her price range.

The dance was held at the local country club, where several of the upper class students’ families held memberships. For an extra fee, students could arrive early to the dance and enjoy a sit down dinner and dessert before the party got started. Never a fan of fancy food like what would be served, Belle and Adam chose to eat at a local place they loved. It was owned by a friend of Hatter’s who only hired people who needed a fresh start in their lives. It wasn’t a fancy place but it was theirs.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Adam said, kissing Belle’s hand. “I’m so glad I can call you mine.”

Belle shyly smiled and looked away. No one had ever called her stunning before. People said she was very pretty, beautiful even. Before she and her father had moved to Molyneaux she had been approached by several people claiming to be talent agents and wanted to sign her to modeling contracts. She never took them up on them because one, they were likely scams and two she couldn’t bear to be away from her father.

Because of Adam’s issues, as his dads called it, they didn’t like him driving. It had taken a great deal of convincing, promising, and reassurance from Adam that he would never endanger Belle like that. For Adam, Belle meant more to him than his addiction. Cogsworth trusted his son to behave himself for the night, and allowed Adam to drive to the dance. Producing all the gentlemanly qualities that Belle’s literary romantic heroes possessed, Adam offered his arm to her when they stood up from the table. When she shivered slightly stepping out into the night air, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders. He opened the car door for her, assisted in making sure all of her dress was free of the door before closing it.

The Spring Formal was already in full swing by the time Adam and Belle arrived. The ballroom of the country club was decked out in blue and golds, the school colors, tables surrounded the dance floor centerpieces of yellow and white roses. The lights were low and the live band made it seem all the more magical. Adam and Belle claimed spots at a table and made their way around the room to take in everything. The Spring Formal was the last big event for the seniors before graduation. Teachers guarded the punch bowl like it was holy water. Given his reputation, Adam never went up to the bowl alone. Not that he would spike the punch. He may be an alcoholic, that didn’t mean he wanted to ruin the night for everyone else. That didn’t stop people from coming up to him asking if he brought anything.

A slow song began and Adam took Belle’s hand and they took a spot on the dance floor. Having gay dads, one who was literally a cabaret owner and professional ballroom dancer at one point in his life, Adam had learned to dance and dance well. While he was content to just stand with Belle in his arms, her head on his chest as the rose in her hair tickling his nose, he did have some moves.

Belle, a lover of old movies, was more than willing to try something more than their peers were doing. Sweeping her across the floor, careful to not collide with other members of their class, they danced. He loved the way she felt in his arms. He didn’t know when he fell in love with her but he knew he had. He loved her.

Belle kept waiting to hear her alarm go off. That this night with Adam was nothing more than a wonderful dream. He held her close to him, not wanting to let her go. He was so sure of himself, so unlike him. Adam was dear and unsure of himself most of the time. She knew what a struggle it was for him to maintain his sobriety. As they got annoyed with bumping into people, he held her close. She rested her head on his chest, easy to do as he was so tall and broad. How right this all felt.

They retreated back to their table for water and to just be with each other. Belle had never been one to venture out for school activities. She was studious and serious. Adam was her first serious relationship. She loved being with him. She knew he had a past, who didn’t. But his past was darker than any she had known. They spent hours cuddled together just talking. Adam loved having someone to talk to that wasn’t at a meeting, a therapist, his sponsor Hatter or his dads. Belle was so kind and gentle while she listened to the horror stories he had in his life. Her life was a walk in the clouds compared to his.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Adam asked, taking her hands. “I know you’d rather it just be us. We can go to the park or back to my house. The dads are at some function. We’d have the place to ourselves.”

“I’d like that,” Belle said, smiling. “Let me freshen up and I’ll be right back. Then we can go.”

Adam sat at their table watching the others when Gaston slid into the seat next to him, taking a silver flask out of his jacket pocket.

“You look like you could use a pick me up, buddy,” Gaston said, holding out the flask. “Can’t be easy with that stuck up bitch.”

“Belle’s not a bitch,” Adam said. “Don’t call her that.”

“Touchy,” Gaston laughed, taking a drink on his own. “It’s Stoli.”

“Not tonight,” Adam said watching for Belle.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone dry again. Man, that bitch has her claws in deep.”

“I’m not going to tell you again, Gaston. Don’t talk about her like that. Belle is my girlfriend now and I won’t sit by and listen to you call her names.”

“There was a time when you were calling her all sorts of things. Talking about how you’d do it once you got her where you wanted her.” Gaston was baiting Adam now. He knew how his former friend ticked. It wouldn’t take long. “You were quite vivid.”

“That was before,” Adam said. He knew what Gaston was doing. He wouldn’t fall into it. “Belle’s different. She’s not like the other sluts we used to fuck.”

“You certainly have taken your time with this one. By now you’d have loved and left them. What are you waiting for?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”

“Come on man,” Gaston continued to prod. “What’s the scam?”

“There’s no scam, you dick.”

“With you, there’s always a scam. Seriously, though. You have fucked her right? A girl like that must be a nasty little freak between the sheets.” Gaston looked up and saw the golden goddess walking towards Adam.

“Oh totally,” Adam said, his voice deadpan, thick with sarcasm. “You should hear how she screams my name with every thrust. Can’t wait to hear it tonight.”

Gaston’s face fell and he started to hold back a laugh. “What is so goddamn…?” Fuck. “She’s standing right behind me?”

“This is going down as one of your best fuck ups,” Gaston exploded in laughter. Too bad there weren't more people around to hear it.

“The only thing you’ll be hearing tonight, Adam Benson is the sound of your right hand arguing with your left!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. She had never been so humiliated by anyone like that in her life. Lifting the hem of her gown she started to run, sort of, out of the ballroom.

“You asshole,” Adam scowled at his former friend. “Belle! Belle, wait!” He ran after her and caught up with her in the corridor between the ballroom and foyer. He took her elbow trying to get her to stop. “Belle, please. That wasn’t what it sounded like.”

“Don’t touch me!” she yanked her arm back, wrapping herself in a hug. “How dare you talk about me like that? What is wrong with you?”

“Belle, please. He was being an ass. I only said that to shut him up,” he stood in front of her and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean a word of that.”

“Certainly sounded like you meant it!”

“Belle, baby, no. I can still feel the sting of the slap you rewarded me with when I got fresh.” He needed to close the gap between them. Make this right. “I would never treat you like that. You mean more to me than anything. I...I love you.”

Wiping the tears from her face. What did he just say? “You love me?”

“This wasn’t the way I planned on saying it,” Adam said, reaching for her hand. “But yes, Belle. I love you.”

The sincerity in his voice, the hope in his eyes. He really means it. He loves me. Unsure of her own feelings, she stepped closer and pressed her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and she felt like she was home.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered in her ear.

He kept his arm around her waist as they walked out to the car. This wasn’t how he wanted their night to go. Why had he let Gaston get his goat like that?

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asked once they were in the car.

Belle looked out the window before answering. “No. I’m sorry I overreacted. I know you. You and Gaston used to be friends, he was trying to get to you and chose me as bait.”

He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Gaston’s an idiot. I’m just sorry you got dragged into it.”

Belle held his hand the entire drive from the country club. Is that what Adam is expecting tonight? “Adam?”

“What is it?” he answered.

“What do you expect to happen tonight? Once we reach your house?”

“Nothing that you don’t want,” Adam answered. “I love you, Belle. I would never do anything that you don’t explicitly ask for. It’s not how I roll.”

Belle wasn’t convinced. He seemed all too at ease talking the way he had with Gaston. But then her mind went to his actions. He never put his hands on her unless he asked first and she agreed. They had their boundaries and he never crossed them. She could trust him with this. She couldn’t always trust other choices he would make but being intimate with her, it felt right.

Cogsworth and Lumiere were still out when they got back to his house. He parked the car in its spot and helped Belle out of the car, making sure not to step on her dress. They came into the sitting room, as Cogsworth called it. Adam took off his suit jacket and laid it across the top of the antique Queen Anne chair. He squatted down in front of the fireplace and flipped the switch that ignited the flames, adjusting them so they were just right. With nothing more than the firelight to cast a glow on Belle in her golden gown, Adam felt his breath hitch at the sight.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

There was a time when being called “mine” by a boy would have sent a shiver down Belle’s spine. She wasn’t raised to believe all she was worth was to belong to some man. With Adam, the way he claimed her as his, made her feel safe, protected. She could take care of herself and she could trust he’d know just when to step in.

You know me, you know my way You just can't show me, but God I'm praying That you'll find me, and that you'll see me That you'll run and never tire

She laid on the chaise lounge looking so much like the cover of a cheesy romance novel. He sat on the edge like a knight in shining armor and bent over her. “A kiss for you, milady?”

“But of course,” she smiled, playing along. She lifted her head to meet his kiss. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and deepened the kiss. Pulling him down on top of her, drinking him in. Wrapping him in her arms, they closed the gap between them. Adam rested on his elbows on either side of her, his body covering hers.

He pulled the rose from her hair when it poked him in the eye. He then disentagled the headband from her perfectly curled hair. He drew his hands down her arms, the lace tickling his palms.

“Help me out of this dress,” Belle said, breathlessly. “I want you, Adam.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted her up into his arms and with a practiced ease he found the zipper of her dress and gently pulled it down. Kissing down her neck and collarbone he eased her arms out of the sleeves. They stood together and he gathered the layers of the skirt in his hands and eased it over her head to not mess up her hair too much. He laid the gown over the Queen Anne chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

Belle shivered, standing in front of Adam in nothing more than a long line bra, panties and her shoes. Shyly she used her arms to cover herself, stepping out of her heels and pushing them away. “Would it help, if I took off some layers too, ma cherie?”

“Immensely,” Belle answered, licking her lips. She stepped closer to him, her fingers undoing each button of his vest and then to his shirt. Each muscle of his chest stood out. Running her hands over him, she couldn’t believe he was real. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders she pressed kisses to his chest. She loved the feel of him under her fingers and the shivers he gave when she kissed him. She traced her fingers over his stomach and down to the distinct V of his hips. Her hands settled on his belt and paused.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this,” he whispered into her hair. “You can wear my shirt and we can just lie together.”

She silenced him with another kiss, undid his belt and opened his pants. “I want all of you Adam Benson.”

Their touches ignited a passion in them that has only simmered and licked at them before. He shrugged out of his shirt and vest letting them hit the floor. Then he gathered Belle into his arms, holding her close as their mouths explored each other. She drew back and moved his hands, placing them on her chest. “Touch me.”

It took some fiddling but he managed to unhook her bra and let it slip off into the pile of clothing on the floor of the sitting room. Guiding her back to the chaise lounge, he laid her down and covered her with his body, shielding her from the world. Her knees instinctively parted for him. He still had too much on. She pushed at the top of his pants. She needed him to be as bare as she was. His pants and the simple, plain black boxers came down with them, freeing his growing hardness.

He’d been with other girls before but none filled him with such passion as Belle did. The others had sparked a lust that burned out as soon as they had finished. Belle had a beauty to her that shone through. The golden gown had only enhanced that in her. But bare beneath him, her gasps of pleasure as he touched her, only intensified the feeling.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his hands on her hips. “Belle?”

“Make love to me Adam,” she whispered, guiding his hands to remove the last article of clothing she had on. “Love me.”

He slipped the underwear off. His hand traced her folds, how he loved her. Belle spread her legs more, to allow Adam to explore her at his leisure. She let a soft moan escape her lips as his fingers traced the soft skin of her most secret place. He knew he was going to be her first and he would take it nice and slow for her. Kissing her and slowly inserting a single digit inside her, he captured her small gasp with a kiss.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

She stared up at him. “I’m okay,” her small voice said.

He played with her center for a time, loving how she clung to him, her pants and moans driving him to near madness. But it wasn’t about him. It was about her and making her feel like she was the most important person in his life, because she was.

She kissed him, his hand between her thighs bringing her to a place she had never imagined going. Her mind swam with emotion and desire. She raised her hips to meet his hand. She could happily live like this for the rest of her life. Her vision went white and she cried out with a shake and shiver she’d never been able to reach on her own.

“Oh Belle,” his voice reached her ear as she came back down. “Was that for me?”

She took a moment to recover, breathing heavily as the wave of sexual energy left her. She kissed him hard, stroking his cheek. “That was -- fantastic.”

“Are you ready for more?” Adam asked, adjusting himself over her. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Belle said, her hands on his hips. “I want you.”

He entered her slowly, listening to every sound she made. He was slow and gentle, tracing the curve of her face as she stared into his eyes. Gathering her into his arms he sat back and held her in his lap as he moved inside her. It didn’t take long after the change for his face to contort as the need to release overtook him. Holding her tight to him, he came inside her. They laid together in bliss for a moment. She was the first to move. She gathered up his shirt and pulled it around herself. She padded through the house to the bathroom. Adam put his boxers back on and found a blanket for them. He laid back on the chaise lounge waiting for her to come back to him.

She splashed water on her face after cleaning herself up. The trace amount of makeup she wore washed away with the post-coital sweat. She took the rest of her hair down, letting it fall around her shoulders. His shirt, smelling so deeply of him, was three times her size. She came back into the living room and they laid together, covered in the blanket, the firelight dancing on the walls. Their breathing evened out, matching the other and they slowly fell into a rapturous sleep. And that’s how Cogsworth and Lumiere found them when they came home.

Snapping back to the present, the words of Madame brought Belle's attention to that matter at hand.

“We’ll just have to find you something as fantastic as that gown,” Madame said after Belle showed her the gown from the Spring Formal. “Gold is such a perfect color for you.”

They settled on a white satin and lace overbust corset that Madame laced for her that all Belle had to do was use the hooks in the front to put it on. A matching set of garter belt and panties, silk stockings and a gold silk robe from the 1940’s.

“When he sees this, the past will be the past,” Madame Garderobe said, boxing everything up in tissue paper.

Mmm, Desire Desire Desire Desire