#and yeah the bar for foreigners doing a good german is... low

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

watching Liam O'Brien do a spectacular fantasy!German for dozens of episodes has impressed me so much and yet nothing could have possibly prepared me for the man starting to sing, of all the songs, "Laurentia, liebe Laurentia mein"

the immersion! if you reached to the very back of my memory there'd be like ten folk songs there and this one, which we used to have to sing at 7:00 in the morning on choir retreats while doing squats for all the weekdays, would definitely be there. it's a silly ditty you've heard somehow exclusively in childhood, it's a little game song for children. If all else was tainted by your later life that song would probably survive, it's perfect

#it's also a really dumb song that you can use to make people learn the days of the week and probably the only one he knew but still!!! #like yeah the accent work is great #he's basically dead on on everything EXCEPT 'Scheiße' which is hilarious to me #but the overall mannerisms and stuff like the song is outstanding #and yeah the bar for foreigners doing a good german is... low #the bar for actual germans getting to play people that *feel* authentically german in foreign media is also low #but even outside of that i'm just delighted with caleb #critical role #liam o'brien #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #german

[azaleavi]

Woman Like Me - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky meets someone in Madripoor who reminds him of himself a long time ago

Warning(s): language, bad writing lol

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing so any feedback is appreciated and i didn’t know how to end it so it’s horrible but i tried

Word count: 2.2K

Part 2

“Selby will see you now”

The three men walk through the corridors and into the room where Selby is waiting for them. It is full of cash and guns on tables.

“You should know Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand, an offer” Zemo sits down on the couch while Sam and Bucky stand on either side of it.

“A lot has changed since you were here last” Selby eyes Bucky up and down, clearly recognising him as the Winter Soldier “By the way I thought you were rotting away in a German prison” she turns back to the man sitting in front of her and lifts her eyebrows “How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugs “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for”

“Yore taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger” the woman points at Sam then smiles at him, not paying attention to Zemo anymore. Sam nods slightly, trying to speak as little as possible. Selby playfully purrs at him, joking about his name. Sam looks away not wanting to give her the satisfaction of replying to that. She turns back to Zemo and smiles.

“What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum” Zemo stands up walking over to where Bucky is standing acting like the Winter Soldier “and I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course” he holds Bucky’s shoulders while he tries his best to not react. That was not part of the plan. But of course you can’t trust Zemo to not change it to whatever benefits him.”He will do anything you want” he grabs a hold of his chin insinuating things Bucky doesn’t even want to think about. He hates it. Feeling like a toy between the two and he can’t do anything about it. Not if he wants to succeed in getting the information they need.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember” she smiles, pleased. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately” Zemo sits back down on the couch waiting for Selby to start talking.

“Yeah you were right to came to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or…” she looks at Bucky for a second “condemn, depending on what side you’re on.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free but the bakery is gonna cost you Baron. And unfortunately you don’t have the means to pay me” she stands, walking closer to Sam. Bucky immediately tenses, ready for a fight. Something doesn’t feel right.” I don’t need your Soldier” she smiles, something sinister behind it ”as I have my own little puppet. Tell her to come in” the three of them freeze as one of the men with guns goes through a door in the back.

They hear his voice but can’t make out what he says. When he stops talking a woman walks out, into the room they’re in. Bucky feels like his world is turned upside down. The woman is fully decked out with guns and knives and is wearing tactical gear with combat boots. But that’s not what unnerves Bucky. It’s the dead, soulless eyes that stare back at him. A cruel reminder of what he used to look like.

“Come here girl” Selby smiles and the woman complies without a question never taking her eyes off the strangers in the room “look at that. Isn’t it amazing what a few words can do a person’s mind when said in the right order?” Bucky finally looks at Selby realising she is watching him “Isn’t that right Winter Soldier?” Bucky can’t speak. He knows he can’t break character, but it’s damn hard not to when he sees someone like him and he knows he should help.

“How is this possible?” Zemo breaks the silence, clearly baffled by seeing another winter soldier-like person.

“Well it was quite easy to get a hold of Hydra’s files in Madripoor” Selby walks behind the woman who can’t be older than 25 and puts her hands on her shoulder. “Don’t worry though, they were sadly destroyed after we used it once on her. But we got the perfect soldier out of it” Bucky tenses at the mention of the perfect soldier. That’s what he was called back then. I need to help this girl he thinks I can’t let her go through the same shit I had to go through. He looks at Sam who is already looking back at him. They seem to think about the same thing.

“Harcos…” Selby starts talking in a foreign language but she is interrupted by a glass window shattering. Bucky sees Selby on the floor dead, a bullet hole in her chest and he immediately goes into fight mode. The woman or harcos he should say doesn’t waste any time and takes a gun off her back but before she can start shooting he is in front of her. He tries to twist the gun out of her hands but he finds out that she is strong. Too strong for her to be human. She is a super soldier which shouldn’t surprise him at this point but it still does.

They start fighting but their strength is evenly matched and Bucky doesn’t want to kill her. He uses his metal arm to finally grab the gun from her and throws it to the side. She kicks him in the chest and he is flung backwards into the wall. Bucky gets a hold of the gun he threw away and knocks her out with the back of it. The others finish fighting as well and they look at each other.

“Now what?” asks Sam looking at the woman lying on the floor.

“I recommend we kill her” chimes in Zemo before Bucky can start talking.

“We are not killing her” Bucky goes and picks her up, thinking about how they could get her out of here without drawing too much attention. He hold her bridal style and puts her head against his neck, hiding her face.”we need to get out of here and fast” Zemo walks to the door, opens it a little and looks through the open space.

“Put down your guns and follow my lead” the other two are hesitant to do what Zemo says but they don’t really have any other choice. They walk through the doors and out into the streets trying to look as casual as possible. Well, as casual you can be with an unconscious woman in your hands. But in Madripoor it’s not an uncommon sight so no one really pays attention to them. That is until every single person in the vicinity starts getting text messages and looks at them. Shit they know what happened Bucky thinks and they start to walk faster. Suddenly the people around them get out their guns and start shooting at them. Zemo runs to the right while Bucky and Sam start running straight down the street.

“I can’t run in these heels” Sam shouts trying to keep up with Bucky who is running slower than he could so he doesn’t leave Sam behind. They turn into a darker alley with to people on motorcycles following them. Suddenly two shots rang out from somewhere in one of the buildings and the motorcyclists are dead on the ground.

“You seem to have a guardian angel” Zemo shows up, out of breath from all the running.

“Well this is too perfect” Sharon shows up out of nowhere holding a gun in her hands. Her eyes immediately go to the woman in Bucky’s hands and the men can see her surprise. “Please tell me that’s not Harcos in your hands” Bucky looks down to see the woman, who seems to be calmly sleeping. How she didn’t wake up while they were running around is beyond him, but he is glad he doesn’t have to fight her again.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” asks Sam trying to lighten the situation.

“We need to get out of here before they see you carrying around Madripoor’s most valuable asset.” Bucky tenses, pulling her closer and not liking how that sounds. Asset. The word brings back horrible memories of times he would much rather forget. He needs to help this girl. He will not allow someone else be called asset “come on, I have a place in High Town where you can lie low” Sharon starts walking and the men follow him, Sam dragging Zemo with him.

They walk into her place which is filled with stolen artwork, that turns out to be the original.

“So can you tell us who is this harcos that Bucky decided to save?” Sam sends a look at Bucky who is putting the woman down on the couch. She is still out cold which is starting to get concerning.

“Y/N L/N. 24 years old. Has been a super soldier since she was a kid. She was Nagel’s first patient” she draws air quotes with her fingers ”well… the first successful one anyway. And when the Blip happened Selby used the chaos to get the files on the brainwashing and used it on her. Her memories are not gone like your resident Winter Soldier here but she still has trigger words that turn her into a mindless killing machine” they all watched the girl who started to stir awake from her deep sleep.

“Uhm… how are we going to go about this?” Sam watched her intently, getting ready for a fight. Bucky was still standing next to her when she opened her eyes staring straight into his. She sat up, panicked trying to crawl back from him. She obviously knew who he was and she was scared. How is she scared of him? She is supposed to be a super-soldier.

“What do you want?” she speaks for the first time.

“Hey it’s okay, we don’t want to hurt you” Sam walked over to her trying to calm her down. She snaps her head at him.

“Well then I would like an explanation” Y/N is till unsure about them but once in her life she wants to trust people and maybe the Avengers would be a good start.

“Do you remember fighting me?” Bucky speaks up.

“Yeah, kinda hard to forget fighting the Winter Soldier” she looks back at Bucky.

“I’m not him anymore” he shakes his head.

“Well at least someone got out of this thing” she shows a pained smile

“I head you have trigger words too”

“Yes and I would rather you don’t say them” he can’t understand how she can joke about something like this.

“We don’t even know the words” Sharon speaks

“Although I wish I did” Zemo smiles trying to get a rise out of y/n. But he doesn’t know her so he doesn’t know that that’s a very hard thing to do. Oh she gets angry easily but she was trained to not show it and not act on it.

“Very funny Zemo” she sends him a mock smile. He seems surprised that she knows who he is which she notices “Yes I know who you are, don’t be so surprised. So what are the Avengers doing in Madripoor?” she turns to Sam.

“A group of people got hold of the super-soldier serum and they used it on themselves so we are trying to stop them” Sam explains

“Sounds fun”

“I think she would be a valuable help” Zemo speaks again and Bucky immediately thinks that he has some ulterior motives.

“Stop your schemes Zemo” Sam shuts him down but y/n seems to be deep in thought.

“I mean she could help…” Bucky starts but Sam sends him a pointed look so he shuts his mouth.

“We do not need another liability with us” Sam looks at y/n who is already looking at him “No offence”

“None taken, but I agree with James” she stands up and walks over to Sam “I understand that I’m not stable, but I know what it’s like to have the serum in your veins and I want to help any way I can. As long as no one says the words I’m good”

“Yeah that’s exactly my concern. What if someone does know the trigger words and uses it against us? Against you?” he points at her. She thinks about if for a second.

“Okay how about this? I go with you but only step in to help when you say I can.” She offers, a hopeful look in her eyes. Sam knows she just wants to help but it’s still risky. He sighs.

“You can come if you do what I say. But if I feel like you are risking our mission you are sitting it out and only come in when I tell you to. Understand?” he says firmly, holding out his hand. She takes it and they shake hands.

“Let’s get these super-soldiers”

#bucky barnes #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #bucky #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #sebastian stan #winter soldier #woman like me bucky

[bratkook]

corrupt. jjk (m)

You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

pairing: vampire!jk x human!reader genre: smut, pwp warnings: blood play, unprotected sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, spanking, oral (f. receiving), partially clothed sex word count: 5k author’s note: literally everything i write is based on a song so listen to Corrupt by Depeche Mode. This also came to mind because my boss and i are obsessed with the idea of going to a sex club in berlin so i hope you enjoy lol. leave feedback or shoot me a message tysm ily bye. this also isnt edited yet im sorry

Standing in the middle of a dimly lit club in the heart of Berlin, the sound of a german band filling up the space all around you, is not how you thought your night would go.

Utterly alone, shimmying through the crowd of people all scantily clad in forms of leather or lace, some wearing nothing at all. No one seemed to mind you, no one gave you a second glance. The leather body harness you had on stuck to your body like second skin, the straps of it stretched across your breasts and covered your nipples. The only thing on your bottom half was a garter belt, a tiny pair of black underwear and fishnet stockings, finished off with some black heels.

You had begged your friend to come with you, being in the middle of your trip across Europe you wanted to visit the infamous sex club while in Berlin but she had been so against it. Not only was this club notorious for having orgies in the middle of the venue, which she thought was unspeakable, it was also a common hot spot for vampires as well, another taboo for her.

When she told you no you knew it was final so you didn’t mention it again. Instead you got dressed up in the bathroom of your airbnb, draped on a peacoat and headed out without a word. Luckily the club had coat check or else you’d feel entirely over dressed.

This club, unlike other vampire friendly ones you’ve visited, let everyone mingle together. You were accustomed to having dedicated rooms for humans, another for vampires, and a common ground for those who didn’t mind being together. But here it was a giant melting pot of both.

In the short ten minutes you’ve been here you had lost count of how many scarlet eyes you’d seen staring down at you, how many touches of cold skin you’d felt as you slipped by people, you felt very outnumbered and a little vulnerable but it sent a spark of excitement down your spine.

When you reach the bar, your arms press against the slightly tacky surface, a blonde with gleaming golden eyes greets you with a smile, “What’ll you have sweet heart?”

You strain your ears to hear her but try your best to tell her you’d just like a shot of tequila, she has no problem hearing your request, spinning around to grab the tequila from behind her.

Just as you start to ease up to being where you are, the feeling of someone slipping in beside you has you tensing up again. You keep your gaze on the bartender, watching her pour out your shot before sliding it over.

When you reach into the hem of your tights to pull out some cash she waves you off, “Its your first time here, consider it a welcoming gift.” She winks at you and moves on to the next thirsty guest before you can thank her.

You can sense the eyes boring into you from your right, your fingers gripping the edge of the shot glass as you lift it up to your lips. The curious observer just watches with a smirk as you throw back the shot, shutting your eyes as the warm liquid runs down your throat.

When you set the glass down and lick your lips over they finally speak, “First timer huh?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at his voice, the low gravel of it swimming through your ears and getting your full attention. Its melodic, something about it has you turning to him like he had just said something ground breaking, and when you see who the voice belongs to you let out a small shudder.

The dark red of his eyes seems to glow in between the random flashes of light, his eyebrow arched up in curiosity as you drink him in. The hair on his head, parted to the side and showing the sharp eyebrows that frame his eyes, is an inky shade, the tips of the strands landing on his forehead.

He lets you take your time, watching you make your way down his face, reaching his soft lips, parted in a half smile that showcased the sharp fangs where your incisors are. The action should be threatening but all you can think of is having them sink into your skin.

The way he’s dressed is more modest than others, a sheer black mesh shirt hugging his chest, showing off the indents of muscles from how tight the material was. A harness similar to your own sits snuggly against his waist, the leather material matching that of his pants.

You snap out of it when you realize you’ve been staring at his crotch for more than seemed appropriate. Humor is written all over his face when you meet his gaze once more, remembering that the beautiful stranger had in fact asked you a question.

“Yeah, that obvious?”

He just chuckles, leaning against the bar top as well, “You just look a little intimidated is all. What is it, the vampires or the fucking in public?”

You push the shot glass further away from you, “Neither, I’ve had my fair share of vampires and if fucking in public scared me I wouldn’t be here.” Your words have piqued his interest, “Just first time jitters.”

He nods in understanding, “Fair, lets do some ice breakers then, I’ll start.” He clears his throat and inches closer to you, his shoulder nudging against yours, “My name is Jungkook, I’m technically 24, I enjoy making short films and I really want to fuck you.”

The small gasp you let out is clearly picked up by his ears, the smirk returning on his face at your reaction, “Oh wow,” you let out a giggle and he’s enamored by it, “well, my names Y/N, I’m 25, I enjoy baking and I really want to fuck you too.”

Jungkook hums, his tongue running along his teeth, “That can be arranged you know.”

You take a glance behind him, taking in the entirety of the club in the flashes of light. Almost every surface had a couple, at least, in the act of fucking each other in one form or another. In the middle of it all were the people who just came for the atmosphere, dancing along to the music playing as if ten feet away someone wasn’t getting fucked in the ass.

“Where?” You ask shyly, this was after all your first time at a club like this. The rules of dibs regarding location was foreign to you, not knowing what was off limits or not but Jungkook seemed to be very familiar with the club.

“Lets ease you into it yeah?” He murmurs out, his cold hand gently grasping yours and tugging you behind him as he slides through people without a care. The crowd seemed to split for him, humans and vampires alike staring him down but he paid them no mind as he crossed the floor.

The further you walked the more the crowd dispersed until you reached a hallway, the maroon walls were lined up with fetish photos, portraits of girls wrapped up in shibari, men wearing gimp masks along with shadow boxes holding various sex toys. In between each one were open doors, the rooms having a bed in the middle of them with lovers on top, the sounds of pleasure spilling out of the rooms and into the hallway.

Jungkook continued to lead you down the hallway, reaching a room he knows will be unoccupied. It was his room, no one ever used it but him, it was almost like an unspoken rule that it belonged to him so when you rounded the corner and stepped into it, the fact that i was completely untouched didn’t surprise him.

The bed was right in the middle, dimly illuminated by two sconces on the wall behind it. The black silk sheets look inviting, the large gold bed frame drawing you forward until your palms rested on the mattress, your fingers rubbing the soft material.

“I didn’t know places like this had beds.”

Jungkook steps behind you, his hands grasping your hips gently and pulling you back into him, “Mm, theres also a pool in the basement but I can show you that later.” He dips his head down, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your neck and inhaling when the scent of you invades his senses.

He could hear the pounding of your heart, the blood pulsing through your veins in excitement. Jungkook knew you weren’t scared, you had waves of eagerness rolling off of you. The rythm of your heart wasn’t one of fear and as much as he used to love playing with his meals, knowing he didn’t have to sweet talk you into calming down made this more enjoyable.

“Yeah, later–laters good.” Your eyes flutter shut when his lips touch your skin, gently trailing up your neck and reaching your jaw. One of the hands that was on your hips came up to cup your cheeks, yanking your head around to crash his lips against yours.

The lingering remains of the tequila you had thrown back makes its way into his mouth when his tongue meets yours as he licks his way inside. Slowly you fully turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him closer to you as your tongues tangled together messily.

Jungkook makes quick work at unclasping the harness you had on, his fingers coming together on your back and undoing the metal hooks until the fabric sagged off of your body. His lips never leave yours as you drop your arms, letting the leather material hit the floor.

When his hands come up to grasp your tits you pause kissing him, the icyness of his palm making your nipples pebble and he just smirks, almost as if he knows that you’re thinking of how his cold hands would feel inside your cunt.

“Such a pretty little human.” He mumbles out when he pulls back and stares at your exposed chest, his fingers twisting your nipple.

“Please,” you groan out, leaning forward to reattach your lips but he inches back to tease you, a playful smile on his face. “you said you wanted to fuck me.”

He relases your nipple, his hands now coming to undo his own harness, the garment joining yours on the floor but with it comes the mesh shirt. Inch by inch his smooth skin comes into view, the muscles on his stomach rippling as he peels it off and tosses it without a care.

“I do want to fuck you, so badly.” His head tilts slightly at you, watching you standing by the bed with your arms by your side and a pout on your face. “I like taking my time though baby, can you be patient for me.”

He hears the small intake of breath you make, nodding your head immediately. Patient? Yeah you could be patient for him, you could be anything for him. Its like his voice had you in a trance, any request he had could be fulfilled without a problem.

Jungkook reaches for you once more, his lips melting against yours while his hands guide your hips backwards, helping you onto the bed and pushing you back with ease. He slowly pushes you back until you’re fullt resting on the mattress, your hair splayed out around you with him hovering above you, his knees on either side of your thighs.

Your lips smack together for a moment, Jungkook gently nipping your bottom lip enough to draw a small bead of blood. When his tongue laps it up he moans into your mouth, the coppery taste mixed in with a hint of sweetness has his cock twitching. A small taste of whats to come, it takes him all the restraint he has to stop himself from devouring you here and now.

“Tastes,” kiss “so,” kiss “sweet.” He groans out in between kisses, pressing against you harder before trailing his lips down your body. You lay there with your chest heaving, your mind spinning when you feel the wetness of his lips kissing down your chest.

He envelopes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking around it with a moan, his other hand coming up to knead the flesh of your neglected breast and you gasp at the feeling, your back arching into his touch.

Your brain forcing your limbs to come into action now, your hand slipping into his hair and pushing him closer to you. The sensation of your fingers yanking his strands urges him on, sucking on your nipple while looking up at you, your eyes blown out in the darkness of the room, the bright red of his making him look predatory.

He pulls back with a wet smack, looking down at your saliva coated flesh and humming to himself while his hand continues to twist your other nipple. “So sensitive.” He comments when you whine at a particular hard tug he gives you, your head falling back with a sigh.

“Jungkook please.”

He relents, releasing your nipple and continuing his quest down your body, you’re expecting him to tug down your tights, maybe undo the garter belt before taking it all off but instead his fingers hook into the holes in the tighs around your crotch and yank hard. The sound of the fabric ripping has you lifting your head back up, catching him in the act of tearing your tights apart until your black panties were fully exposed to him.

Jungkook had slid off the bed, kneeling in front of you, his arms hooking under your thighs to drag you forward a bit, a smile spreading across his face when you let out a small shriek of surprise. The heels of your shoes rest on his back, your thighs sitting snuggly on his shoulders.

You can feel his breath against your skin, his lips hovering over the flesh of your inner thighs, his fingers digging into you as he licks his lips over. The anticipation is killing you, forcing yourself to drop your head back down because watching him stare at you like that was filling your stomach with nerves.

The soft flick of his tongue on your inner thigh has you tensing up, your hands reaching down to grasp his own, your warm fingers curling around his while they wrapped around your legs. Jungkook trails soft kisses on your skin, taking his time sucking and biting around your panties, his tongue gently flicking over your clit, a teasing motion that you barely feel through the material of your underwear.

He chuckles when your hands clutch his with annoyance, you had told him you could be patient but you were really doubting yourself now. Maybe fucking him out in the open of the club would’ve given you satisfaction a lot quicker.

Just as you’re about to voice your frustration, Jungkook pulls a hand away from your thigh, hooking his finger on the edge of your panties and yanking them to the side. Your glistening core shines back on him, his mouth salivating at getting a taste of you, wondering if your cunt was as sweet as your blood.

“Fuck.” You gasp when he licks a broad stripe up your slit, his tongue gathering your wetness in a practice move, a satisfied moan leaving his mouth at the taste. Everything he had said about taking his time was out the window now, diving into you shamelessly.

He growls when your hand comes back to tangle into his hair, the slight burn of his scalp causing him to eat you with more determination. His lips wrap around your clit, slurping and sucking gently enough to have you whimpering, your back arching up into him at the feeling.

Jungkook smirks when he releases your clit, nosing against it while his fingers circle your entrance, slipping in without resistance. The dirty thought that had crossed your mind before had been proven correct, Jungkook’s long icy fingers felt amazing inside your heat, spreading you open as if they were meant to be there. When he adds a second one, scissoring inside of you to stretch you out, a moan dies in your throat when you choke out, his lips come back to your center in a frenzy.

You can feel every ridge of his finger inside of you, grazing the bundle of nerves each time they thrust out, coupled with the way he’s sucking on your clit its not a shock that you’re quivering on the bed. 

“So fucking wet.” He awes for a second, the tug on his scalp letting him know you needed him to go back to what he was doing. A gush of wetness escapes you, dripping down his palm and onto the floor and he hums, he can hear the pounding in your veins increase in speed, the fluttering of your heart sounding like music to his ears.

“C-close,” you keen out, your heels digging into him and bringing him closer, “fuck, bite me. Please bite me.”

Thats all Jungkook needed to hear, his fingers slip out of you to replace his mouth, quickly circling your clit to have you hurdling over the edge. You can feel the pressure building in your abdomen, the controlled flicks of his fingers have you whining out.

Just as you’re about to teeter over Jungkook dips down and kisses your inner thigh once more, opening his mouth to clamp over your skin. In a flash his fangs pierce your flesh, a brief feeling of searing pain shoots up your body before being replaced by intense pleasure when he fully latches on, lips suckling on your skin.

The rich liquid pours into his mouth, the same coppery sweet taste he had sampled earlier is increased with the pleasure you feel. Jungkook’s eyes roll back at the flavor, his fingers not letting up on your clit even with the choked gasp of his name as you reach your orgasm. 

Your body trembles underneath him, your hands grip on his hair loosening up as he quenches his thirst. Everything feels tingly, each nerve ending on your body being lit up from the intense orgasm you just experienced. When he pulls away from your thigh, traces of blood spilling around his mouth he moans, nuzzling his way back to your center, gently licking the remnants of your orgasm off of you, enjoying how you whimper on the bed.

“So good.” He rasps out, his eyes flicking up to look at you and you gasp at how much brighter they are, a ruby red sparkling in the dark of the room, his eyebrow cocked up as he trails his way back up your body, letting your legs fall from his shoulders and back onto the bed.

His leather clad legs press against you, the feeling of his hardened bulge against your hip has you shuddering. “I’m not done with you yet, I’m going to ruin you baby.” He kisses up your chest, his eyes never leaving yours. The fucked out look on your face makes him rut against you, “You sure you want this?”

Your arms wrap around his torso, nails digging into his back as you rut up into him. His head drops down onto your neck when you grind against him, your wetness smearing along the leather. “I need it, ruin me Jungkook.”

The hiss he lets out has your toes curling, moreso when his mouth kisses along your neck, a teasing nip of his teeth on your skin, “Oh I will.”

Jungkook reaches down with one hand to unbotton his jeans, tugging them down enough for his cock to slip free. You don’t get a chance to look it over, the size of it being a total suprise to you since his lips were no on yours again, your eyes slipping shut as they worked together, teeth knocking into each other in a hurry.

He wraps a hand around himself, sighing into your mouth as he gives himself a pump. “Jungkook.” You groan into his mouth, wiggling your hips around as he positions himself between your thighs. He nudges your thighs further apart, your heels resting on the edge of the bed while his knees sink into the mattress.

“I know baby.” He mumbles against your lips, pressing another kiss to them. Thats when you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, a slow rut of his hips following as he coats his length in your arousal.

Your nails dig into his back once more, the silk sheets gliding against your skin when you arch your back to get some sort of friction from him.

Jungkooks eyes are glued to where you meet, watching in admiration when he tugs your underwear to the side and eases himself into you, his cock sinking into your heat slowly. The feeling of him stretching you open has you moaning out loud, your head thrown back and exposing your neck to him.

“Fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.”

The stretch feels almost impossible for a second, you hadn’t seen his length but the feeling of it alone made it obvious that he was the biggest you’d ever had. When he bottoms out, his hips resting flush against your ass you whimper out.

“Feel so full.” You slur, humming softly when he kisses your cheek tenderly.

Jungkook just chuckles, “Gonna fuck you stupid.” Thats the only warning he gives you before inching back, rolling into you over and over until you’re adjusted to his size.

You knew after today you’d be ruined, you’d slept with your fair share of vampires but the way Jungkook’s cock split you open, pistoning into you in the most delicious way, you were done for.

The feeling of your nails digging in his back had him hissing, his arms caging you in underneath him. His eyes were focused on the way your breasts jiggled at every thrust, your body jostling upwards from the strength of them. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, your mouth dropped open as moans spilled out through your lips.

Jungkook was fucking you well and truly stupid, you looked lost in your pleasure, your walls fluttering around his length when he hit your sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “so big. So–“ a gasp cuts you off when he speeds up his thrusts, the skin of his thighs smacking against yours with new found energy.

“Where’d those first time jitters go?” He wonders, one hand coming up to softly trail down your face, inching down until theyre placed around your neck, his fingers feeling the ferocious pulsing from your jugular.

“Such a fearless little human.” He grunts out with a groan, “Letting me do what I want with you, do you have any idea what I could do to you?”

A whimper leaves your mouth, your hips coming up to rut in time against his. You knew what he could do to you, if he really wanted to he could rip out your throat and drink you dry. Maybe it was the masochist inside of you, the idea of not knowing what could actually happen, of not being in control of the situation, that kept you going.

“I don’t care.”

That has a curious smile spreading across his face, “No? All you care about is my cock huh?”

You’re nodding immediately, yes his cock is all you care about. The way its stretching you open, the length of it hitting places inside of you without even trying. He fucked you like it was second nature to him, his thrusts being well timed, as if he knew the right way to get you falling apart underneath him.

“Can I–“ you press your palms against his chest lightly, the smal act of resistence causing him to still completely. He watches on curiously when you shimmy out from under him, your knees knocking into his as you turn over onto the bed on your hands and knees.

You’re facing the door now, seeing the flashes of light and the occasional person walking by the door and you briefly remember where you are. Jungkook watches you wiggle your hips at him, your fishnets stretched tightly over your ass.

“So fucking sexy.” He steps off of the bed, taking the time now to fully slip out of his pants, kicking them off and onto the floor before kneeling back onto the bed. His hands grasp your ass, kneading the flesh of them as he settles behind you, his palm coming up to land with a loud smack onto your skin. The sound mixing in with the thrumming bass of the club music and the moan you let out.

“C’mon, fuck me stupid.” You tease, dropping onto your elbows and spreading your thighs apart as you arch your back.

“Mm, careful what you ask for baby.”

His large palm splays across your back, pushing you down further while his other guides his cock back into you. The first thrust is a lot smoother than the last, the glide of your wetness helping him ease in to the hilt. This position has him reaching in deeper inside of you, your hands fisting the cool sheets as you moan out his name.

Its messy, the way his dick squelches every time it re-enters your, wetness coating his cock and dripping down onto the sheets. His palms grasp your hips, fingers digging into your flesh roughly. He knew he could crush you if he wanted to and the fact that you still laid here, drunk off his cock instead of running away, he knew he was just as ruined as you were.

“Jung-jungkook.” You gasp out, rutting back onto him with a small laugh and it catches his attention when he notices one of your hands come up to point at the door, “we have a visitor.”

He hums when his eyes lock onto the observer, another vampire he was familiar with, the dark red hair of Jung Hoseok flashes in the light. He’s leaning against the door frame, a drink in his hand as he watches on nonchalantly.

“Lets give them a show then yeah?”

He grinds against you with more purpose, one hand coming around to your front to meet your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers until you’re trembling. Your pussy clamps around him, your mouth dropping open in a lewd moan, burying your face into the sheets while you let yourself get lost in the feeling of it all.

Knowing Jungkook was having his way with you while someone watched lit a fire inside of you, the way you were creaming his cock being evidence enough that you were clearly enjoying yourself.

“Harder, fuck me harder.”

Jungkook fulfills your request, starting to thrust into your heat harshly with no qualms about having a spectator. “You’re soaked baby, you gonna make a mess of these sheets?”

All of your senses are full of him, just him and his cock and the way he pounds into you, his fingers flicking against your clit with expertise. His grasp on your hips is the only thing keeping you from toppling over, your upper body laying limp on the bed as you let his ravish you.

When your eyes look up, meeting the gaze of the stranger by the door you smirk, sending them a wink and earning a chuckle from them.

Jungkook can feel you tightening up around him, his own release creeping up inside of him. He needs to taste you again, “Let me have another bite baby.”

He bends over your body until his nose pushes against your hair draped over your neck, a deep inhale sending shivers down your spine. Your hand comes up to move your hair out of the way, mewling when he nudges against your skin, “Oh god, yes.”

His lips latch onto you seconds later, the now familiar feeling of his fangs sinking into your skin making your whole body tense up this time. Your limbs lock up as he moans against your flesh, the warm blood dribbling into his mouth. Blood always tasted different coming straight from the jugular, the taste of it making his eyes roll back as he quickly ruts into you.

The euphoric feeling of him drinking from you pushes you over the edge once more, the pleasure sparking from the open wound until it reaches all of your limbs. Your walls clamp around him impossibly tight as you cum, a shout of his name leaving you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His lips never leave your neck, suckling the blood from you as your body trembles underneath his. A weak whimper leaving your lips sends him over, his balls tensing up until he’s spilling into you, thrusting his hips against yours as deep as he could. The warmth of his cum fills you up, a soft sigh sounding out when he finally detaches from your neck, the smear of blood around your neck being licked up by him as he shallowly thrusts a few more times.

“Shit.”

Your eyes look up once more to find that the other vampire was now gone, leaving you and Jungkook alone once more, his cock still buried inside of you, your neck throbbing slightly after the abuse.

When he pulls out of you your hips full drop onto the mattress, the cool sheets feeling like heaven against your warm body. Jungkook chuckles at your worn out form, gently grasping you to flip you over to face the ceiling, not giving you a moment to recover before slotting his lips against your own.

You taste your own blood on your tongue, the coppery tang being new to you but you don’t mind it, not with the way he kisses you like you were more than just a messy fuck. He pulls back after a second and you grin at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, your thumb rubbing the drying blood from his chin.

“What did I taste like?”

He presses another kiss against you, “Like fucking heaven, I could die eating your pussy.”

The wink he sends you makes you blush, swatting his chest lightly with a laugh, “I meant my blood you perv.”

“Oh I’m the perv now?” He teases, catching your hand before you can smack him again, “I think you ruined me too baby, never tasted blood this sweet.”

You bite your lip at his words, staring up at him with wide eyes in an almost innocent way as if you hadn’t just participated in this scandalous act. He wanted nothing more than to proposition you into being his blood bag, a somewhat intimate request but he knew it was useless. Considering you had never been to this club before he knew you weren’t from around here, you’d be long gone in a few days, a distant memory that would simmer away over time and for some reason it pained him to think that so he chose to suppress it.

“Let me walk you home, you never know what monsters could be lurking.”

That same giggle that enamored him earlier is back now, “If I could handle you I could handle anyone.”

His eyebrows arch up at your teasing tone, a smirk curling his lip as he stares you down, “Is that so?” His eyes have that same predatory look in them, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the way he stares at you, looking like he’s ready to dive in once more.

He wasn’t finished with you yet.

#goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #vampire!jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook one shot

[kyber-crystal]

Set Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.3k

Summary: In which the Avengers are relentless in their attempts to get you and Steve together. If this means going great lengths such as sending you off on a mission-disguised romantic getaway to make you realize your feelings for one another, they’ll seize the chance at the very moment it’s presented to them.

Warnings: None. Just tooth-rotting fluff bc I’ve really been needing it ahaha

A/N: Set in an AU 2017 timeline in which they reunite a year after the whole Accords situation so that everyone’s happy :)

"Rogers. Parasite. Stop watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and get up, you need to get to the meeting room ASAP," Tony stated.

"Says the one who leeches off my granola bar supply," you grumbled as you shot him a death glare. "You've been doing this to me since I was a toddler. A helpless, two-year old against a 16 year-old demon always hungry for everyone's food but his own."

"Still holding the Full House cereal incident against me? Geez, woman, do you ever release your grudges against anyone," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now come on, let's go."

Exchanging a confused look with Steve, you stood up and followed Tony down the hallway to the meeting room, where Fury was with the rest of the team, waiting.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Y/N," Fury nodded curtly. "I presume you know what's going on?"

"No, sir."

"I need you two to track down a group of mercenaries in downtown Tokyo. You'll be flown out commercially so you can maintain a low profile. The whole process should take no longer than ten days," he explained as Natasha handed him the printed out flight details. "Further information will be given to you upon arrival."

"If it's just the two of us, then why is everyone here?" you pointed out.

"Barton and Maximoff will be checking in with you regularly; and if backup is necessary, I will fly one of them out to meet you. If you don't have any more questions, this meeting is now dismissed. You'll be departing late tonight so if I were you, I'd get to packing right about now."

...

Soon enough you were all packed and ready to go. Because you were too lazy to reach back into your suitcase and grab a sweatshirt, you took Steve's Dodgers hoodie and slipped it on, along with a pair of your favorite sweatpants.

"See you in ten days, okay?" Natasha pulled you in for a tight hug. "Make sure to keep Rogers company, it's a long flight. This is also the perfect opportunity to grow closer...literally."

"Oh shut up, Nat," you scoffed. "We're not...you know."

"Sure you aren't."

"Tony, why don't you get some good rest for once," you turned to your brother, "alright?"

"As long as you admit you're in love with Capsicle," he whispered into your ear.

"I can't admit what's not true."

"Yeah yeah, I can't understand bullshit."

"Tony."

"Y/N," he mocked. "Anyway. Have a safe trip, don't die, yada yada yada."

"Yeah yeah, got it."

A few more rounds of goodbyes later, you and Steve were in the elevator with your luggage, heading down to where Phil was waiting to drive you to the airport.

Your flight was scheduled to take off at 1:45 in the morning, and it was close to 11 p.m when you arrived.

"Your tickets, please," the lady asked as you were about to board the plane. You took them out from your purse and handed them over to her. "Thank you."

"How long's the flight again?"

"Uh...about 14 hours. Pretty long," you replied, as you walked down the aisles, looking at the overhead letters for your seat. "24A, 24B...there we go. Wait, have you been to Japan before?"

"No, I haven't."

"You're gonna love it. They have the best, I tell you, best ramen, and curry, hands down. When Nat, Wanda, and I went on our girls' vacation last spring we wouldn't stop eating for two days straight. I know we're tracking down cold-blooded killers and all, but, it won't hurt to let loose a little, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve couldn't help but smile at how happy you looked while speaking. "You gotta be our tour guide. I'm trusting you'll lead us to the best ramen hotspots?"

"Oh yeah, I will."

After putting your things into the overhead bins, you settled into your seats. The armrest between you could be lifted convert the seats into a double bed, you quickly found out.

Shortly after taking off you felt yourself grow rather tired. Noticing your sleepiness, Steve raised the armrest and pressed the button to make the seats recline backwards, your head immediately falling against his broad chest. He smiled again, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead before pulling the blanket over your bodies and falling asleep as well.

Little did either one of you know, you were being sent off to Japan for a completely different reason that had absolutely nothing to deal with tracking down mercenaries.

...

The smell of food wakes you up several hours later. You stretched your arms up and ran a hand through your hair as you sat up, adjusting your neck pillow.

"Hey uh, how long were we out for?" you asked, voice still thick with sleep. Steve was already awake, in the middle of watching a movie on his TV.

"4 hours. You knocked out for 5. It's time for lunch...or dinner?"

You tapped your screen a few times to pull up the map of your flight's route. "Right now it's 7:30 p.m. in Tokyo. We're arriving at 4:45 in the morning, so I'd say dinner."

"You sleep okay?"

"Hm? Yeah," you yawned, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the sleeves of Steve's hoodie. "You make a good pillow."

"No problem," he chuckled. You then turned to the flight attendant, who handed you your meals.

"Fancy," you nodded in approval as you passed Steve's tray over to him. "First class sure has its perks...oh yes, miso soup."

You binged your way through several episodes of Pretty Little Liars, I Love Lucy, and Star Wars: A New Hope together. Afterwards, you purchased Wi-Fi so you could update the team on your status.

CHATROOM - AVENGERS ASSEMBLE

Natasha: Morning, lovebirds. You guys in the air already?

You: Yeah, we're eating dinner right now. What time is it back home?

Tony: 6:45 a.m. Pulled an all-nighter binge-watching The Office.

Bucky: Totally worth losing an entire night's worth of good sleep.

Y/N: But I still don't get why we couldn't take the Quinjet?

Steve: ^

Rhodey: Do we tell them now, or wait until they land in Haneda?

Wanda: I'd say now.

Pietro: NO NO NO MAKE IT A SURPRISE

Steve: ...What's going on?

Tony: There's no mission.

Y/N: Wait, what? Then what are we going to Tokyo for?

Tony: I purchased a romantic ten-day vacation package so that you two will hopefully realize your feelings for each other along the way. Thank me later.

Y/N: SCREW YOU

Tony: Enjoy eating all the ramen you want!

Natasha: We're so good at matchmaking.

Thor: May I suggest a virtual high-five?

Peter: VIRTUAL HIGH-FIVE :))

Thor: :))

Y/N has left the chat.

Steve has left the chat.

Tony: They're gonna thank me when they see the penthouse I bought.

Tony has left the chat.

"Well, guess we're going on vacation. At least there's more opportunities to eating good food," Steve shrugged.

"Yup." You felt your heartbeat pick up speed at the thought of being alone with him, for ten days, in a country that was considered both futuristic and romantic at the same time. "Plenty of time to eat ramen and sushi."

Deep down, he was glad that there wasn't any mission. And so were you.

You took an hour-long catnap before waking up again and playing a few rounds of Uno with him, then stayed up for the rest of the flight. You both knew you'd regret doing so because of the 13-hour time difference between NYC and Tokyo, but you were too excited to care at that moment.

You were dazed and still slightly tired when you disembarked the aircraft, so you didn't have any energy to question how you and Steve ended up with your fingers intertwined. Besides, you liked the way it felt.

At close to 5 in the morning, Haneda International was relatively quiet and not too busy, so immigration didn't take long. You didn't have to worry about being bombarded by fans, aside from the occasional foreign fan recognizing you two and asking for a quick autograph or picture.

Since you wanted to explore the airport a bit before taking the train downtown, you looked around at the various shops.

Being a former spy alongside Natasha before joining the Avengers, you were fluent in multiple languages, including Japanese, Russian, French, Spanish, and German. And despite having developed the habit of always preparing for what was to come, you were completely shocked hearing a perfect Japanese sentence roll out of Steve's mouth as he spoke to the cashier.

You practically swooned at how smooth his voice sounded.

"Kore wa ikuradesu ka?" He gestured to one of the kokeshi dolls on display dressed in a sapphire colored kimono with cherry blossom embroidery. (How much is this?)

"3500 yen," the lady replied, "Hatsubai-chū, 3000. Kōnyū shimasu ka?" (On sale, 3000. Would you like to buy it?)

"Hai, kōnyū shimasu." (Yes, I'd like to buy it.)

"Kanojo no tame ni?" (For her?)

"Hai." (Yes.)

She nodded, and Steve handed over several folded bills from his wallet after she finished bagging the item.

"Arigato, gokigen'yō," he thanked her. (Thank you, have a nice day)

"Anata modesu," she smiled warmly. (You too)

"Holy crap, you didn't tell me you were fluent in Japanese, Rogers," you gaped as you walked out of the store together. "When did you have the time to learn it?"

"Back during the Pearl Harbor bombing, Buck and I were sent off with the 107th to Hawaii. Figured it'd be useful if we learned a few phrases."

"Few?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "What you just did back there, that was not just a few phrases! That was fluency!"

"What can I say, I pick up on language quickly," he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He then handed you the bag with the doll inside. "Here, for you."

"You didn't have to—"

"Consider it my thank-you in advance for taking me to a good eatery," Steve explained.

After grabbing a quick breakfast of coffee and pastries, you took the elevator down to the train station.

You let out a sigh as you sat down, the cool air inside the train loosening the tension in your shoulders a bit. A short fifteen minutes later and you were back in one of your favorite cities in the world.

Steve took a picture of you as you were distracted from looking all around at the skyscrapers and people milling around, face lit up by all the bright and colorful signs, sending it to the chat.

Steve: Just arrived downtown. Got out of the airport half an hour ago.

Tony: Honeymooning Avengers, how cute

Sam: That's hot.

Steve: What time is it over there?

Wanda: We just finished eating lunch. You?

Steve: 7. Going to check into the penthouse. Talk to you guys later.

Wanda: Alright.

Sam: Have fun, lovebirdssssss

Steve has left the chat.

"So," he breathed out as he slipped his hand back into yours and you exited the station, "you ready to go check out where we're staying?"

"Yeah, definitely. You wanna take the subway again, or a taxi?"

"Subway. Actually..taxi. You sound nice when you speak in a foreign language."

"That's the only reason why you want to take a taxi?"

"Yeah, obviously," you scoffed. "I mean, why else?"

"Alright, if you insist," the super-soldier laughed.

A few minutes later, you'd called a taxi over and climbed into the backseat, strapping your seatbelts on.

"Ohayögozaimasu," (Good morning) the man greeted. "Ogenkidesuka?" (How are you) "Īdesu, anata wa?" Steve replied. (Good, and you?)

"Watashi mo jōzudesu. Doko ni ikitai?" (I am good, too. Where would you like to go?)

You looked at your phone, reading out the address of Tony's penthouse to the driver.

A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke up again. "Watashia wa anata-tachi o shitte imasu. Anata wa abenjãzudesu," the driver smiled, glancing at you two from the rearview mirror. (I know you two. You're the Avengers)

"Watashitachidesu," he returned his friendly grin. (We are!)

"Tōkyō ni kuru kikkake wa nanidesu ka?" (What made you come to Tokyo?)

"Chōdo kyūka no tame." (Just for vacation.)

"Nokori no taizai o o tanoshimi kudasai," he said as you were getting out of the car after paying. "Sayonara."

"Sayonara," you and Steve responded before closing the car door behind you.

"Wow," your jaw dropped as you took the elevator up, arriving at the top floor. "Tony actually bought...this...place?"

"Apparently," Steve shrugged, "we could come back and forth between here and the compound as often as we wanted."

The penthouse had a nice, dark aesthetic feel to it, with giant panoramic views of the entirety of Tokyo and modern furniture and spots of dimmed white lights in the ceiling to give off a relaxed vibe.

After unloading your things, you sat down at the giant couch together and decided to plan out the rest of your day.

"When CoCo Curry opens at 11, we can go eat there," you explained as you typed up the plan in a new note. "Tony also snagged us tickets to Tokyo Tower at 3 p.m, so we have a few hours to spare after lunch."

"We can explore the gardens,"  he suggested. "I know you love doing that. There's a botanical garden in Shinjuku we can go to."

"Oh, that one! I didn't have the chance to go last time, so that's perfect," you added 'Shinjuku Gardens' to your list.

Soon enough you had your entire day planned out, and were ready to head out once again.

CoCo Curry was a quaint, little restaurant that hit you with a wave of tantalizing scents as soon as you walked through the doors and sat down at the bar-style seating area where you could watch the chefs cook your food.

"Gonichiwa," you greeted the chef standing behind the counter.

"Gonichiwa," he smiled back. He asked for your orders, and since Steve wasn't sure what to get you had two orders of your favorite dish.

Besides another couple sitting a few seats away, the restaurant was empty so you got your food in under ten minutes. The steaming hot plates of curry rice were set in front of you, and you felt your mouth water as you inhaled the rich aroma.

"This is so good," Steve spoke in between bites. "I'm literally in love."

"Told you I knew my stuff."

You eventually finished eating, and after getting into a small argument with Steve over who would pay (He ended up winning). "It's payback for ordering me good eats," he explained.

"You said that when you bought me the kokeshi doll," you pointed out.

"Still."

This time you decided to go by foot instead of taking the taxi, as the gardens were only a half-hour or so walk from where you were.

"Right in the middle of cherry blossom season," you sighed as the sweet smell of cherries drifted through the air. "Perfect timing."

You walked around the entire place, stopping every so often to admire the various colorful plants or look up at the pastel pink cherry blossom trees, gravel crunching underfoot with each step you took.

The mid-April breeze lightly fanned your hair around your shoulders. Birds chirped out a delightful melody, flying around the cornflower-blue sky. It wasn't too hot or too cold, and that was one of the many things you loved about visiting Asia during the springtime; the weather was bearable, compared to New York City's below-freezing temperatures in winter. You vividly remembered visiting the botanical gardens in upstate New York on a school trip once, and from then on you'd grown attached.

In the centre of the garden was a large lake with flowering lily pads and on the other side of the bank stood a quaint little temple, with a wooden bridge across the middle so visitors could cross over and look at the koi below.

"It's beautiful here," Steve commented as you made your way down the sidewalk, "I wish they had places like this back home."

"Yeah it is, isn't it," you breathed out, unable to tear your eyes away from the lovely sights. "I could do this all day."

"Hey, that's my line," he joked. You chuckled quietly, slipping your hand into his. He laced your fingers together in response, and you felt the butterflies flutter around in your stomach again the longer he held on, and those butterflies turned into hummingbirds as you looked up to meet his piercing gaze.

You're not sure how long you stay like that, gazing into each others' eyes, but it's only when a little girl stops and asks to take a picture that you pull away.

"Captain America and Agent Y/N!" Judging by her looks, she seemed like she came from the US as well. "Can I get a picture with you guys?"

"Of course, sweetie," you smiled. You brushed off the weird feeling you got when your skin made contact with Steve's, and gestured for her to come closer.

Steve scooped the girl up into his arms as she held your hand, and the mother snapped a few quick pictures before he let her back down.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed before skipping away.

At 2:20 you decided to leave and head out to the Tokyo Tower early so you would be avoiding any possible long lines. You were up at the observation deck within twenty minutes.

"This is just....wow," you breathed out, in awe of the breathtaking view you got as you stared out the panoramic windows, the reflective walls casting thin rays of light onto your faces.

If you thought the view from your penthouse was nice, this was a hundred times better. You had almost nothing preventing you from being able to see the entire city in all directions. The sun was hanging high in the sky, the skyscrapers piercing the horizon like pins and needles.

Steve couldn't help but let his gaze linger on you, the way your face brightened up at the sight of Tokyo's stunning view, the way you laughed and smiled more than you ever did back home. It was a rare sight, and he wished he could see you in this state more often. Oh, the things he'd do to keep hearing your musical laugh and million-dollar smile.

...

The next day was jam-packed with activities. You took a two hour train ride down south to Osaka, exploring the cup noodles museum, shopping downtown in Dotonbori, and stuffing yourself with delicious pastries along the way. Before you headed back, you decided to stock up on groceries at the local market. 

You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow that night, waking up to somehow finding yourself in Steve’s arms. You both woke up at the same time, confused as to how you had gotten yourselves into this position, but were too embarrassed and tired to ask. 

This time, you decided to stay within Tokyo, immersing yourselves in going to as many districts as you could and doing as much as possible. 

After a long day exploring the city, you were rather exhausted. With a cup of freshly brewed matcha in hand, you stayed quiet for a while as you soaked in the scenery, watching the city come alive late at night.

When Steve woke up from his nap a few hours later, he found you standing by the window. Smiling to himself, he got up, approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin atop your head.

"Hi," you greeted, setting your mug down on the coffee table besides you.

"Hey," he murmured into your ear. You closed your eyes and hummed quietly in response, letting your bodies rock back and forth to the rhythm of your steady heartbeats together.

"Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu," (I love you.)

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu, Cap." (I love you too, Cap.)

You stepped away so you could turn around to face him, and he pulled you back towards him and pressed his lips to yours.

He couldn't help but smile into the kiss, pulling you closer against him.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america one shot #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction

[thegreatallanquatermain]

Sechs, Drugs, and Rock ‘n Roll, Chapter Five (The Final Chapter) - We’ll Always Have Germany

It has been four fantastic weeks in Germany, but all good things must come to an end. So, here we are at the start of the final week of the ISU in Marburg. The week started as any week had so far, with soul crushing university work. I am not saying the work was bad or boring, just that it was decidedly not binge-drinking in a Muslim girl’s room. This disappointment was compounded by another factor, that bastard Willy Brandt. Now, Willy Brandt himself actually seemed like a really cool guy, a political refugee who had to flee to Scandinavia during World War II to escape Nazi persecution, implementing various welfare and foreign relation policies as the Chancellor, having a close advisor literally be a spy. The problem with this bastard was that he lied to me. I volunteered to do a oral presentation about Willy Brandt to our German Studies class because my name is also Willy, if you replace the last few letters with the letter “Y” and also never actually use it to refer to me. However, his name was actually Herbert Frahm. He changed his name because he didn’t want the Nazi’s to find him. Could have warned me about that a little earlier, douche.

Everyone in our class had to do a similar presentation about a German politician. Dynamo and Awesome were working on their presentation together. They met up at the MKC, and decided it would be best to start their work with a drink. Awesome got himself a Weißbier, and Dynamo seemed to take a more responsible route with a single bottle of Fanta. What the casual observer may not have noticed, was the half bottle of George Washington whiskey (made from real Canadian whiskey blended in Hamburg) that was also added to the syrupy beverage. At first no one really seemed to notice any difference, with all of us conversing like nothing was wrong. Slowly things started to change as Dynamo’s thoughts started shifting between German and English without her even noticing. To her surprise, the spirits she had been drinking was not a low alcohol liqueur she was used to, but instead a full-strength spirit. For those wondering, it turns out their presentation wasn’t actually that bad. However, Dynamo was not the most conversationally abled person after a little while, to the point where even the bar tender was worried that the humble Fanta he was selling might just be killing people.

In the middle of the week, we decided to take one last hike up to the castle to witness the sunset. On our way, we stopped for a traditional German dish known as Auflauf. “What is this mysterious German delicacy?” You may be asking. Well, it’s pasta bake. We all sat together in merriment, pushing the ideas of the impending end of our adventure from our mind, while the waitress dropped my pasta bake on the floor. From there, we made our way to the top of the hill to the castle, stopping only briefly for a few more beers, and stared out across the landscape to a horizon that seemed to be completely lacking a sun. You see, the sun is known for setting in the West, so looking out towards the East isn’t the most effective way of enjoying a sunset. So, we all made our way back to Boy Virgin’s room to continue our party. Now, it is at this time that I truly came into my new persona. After another night of heavy drinking, I made sure that everyone was staying hydrated, and I walked my inebriated friends home, ensuring they got home safe. It turns out this finally earned me a nickname: Party Dad.

The end of the ISU also meant that we would soon need to vacate our rooms. With that also came the need for room inspections. Luckily for me, I keep a relatively tidy room, and so there wouldn’t be much for me to clean. Oh, wait. Nope, that’s not true. I may have had roughly fifty empty beer bottles lying around my room. Those could pose an issue. Boy Virgin was in a similar predicament, because all the drunk white people she let in the Party Room were usually too drunk to remove their beer bottles at the end of the night. So, we teamed up to rid ourselves of the rubbish once and for all. Now, in Germany, when you purchase a bottle of some description, there is a deposit price added onto the marked price. This deposit is then returned when you recycle the bottle at specific locations. One such location happened to be a local supermarket, where we also coincidentally purchased most of the aforementioned beers. We carried all the bottles in various bags down the hill, returned them for our deposit money, and used that to buy more beer (obviously). Unfortunately, we had one more hurdle, the hill. We were faced with Hell Hill, and effectively purely vertical hill (minus a few decrees). This hill had claimed many victims over the past few weeks, and now, with beer in hand, we had to return to the dorms to get the beer in the fridge, so it would be cool in time for tonight’s festivities. Imagine a party with warm beer. Truly an unenviable situation. It’s not something I could let happen. So, Boy Virgin and I marched, she with arms full of ice tea, while I, Party Dad, cried manly tears all the way up.

Our final normal night together was once again in the Party Room. Bard brought some wine, Saskatoon Pirate supplied the Vodka, Dynamo was already drunk, and Princess was passing around more of her alcoholic Nesquik. Yang and Slim Shady were hanging out playing board games, and Boy Virgin was sweeting some cheese. Joining us was also our friend Lachlann, who I watched play various pieces on the piano at Château de Pourtalès in Strasbourg. Piano Man was sipping from a wine bottle full of some overly sweet alcoholic fluid, telling us all about his various life experiences, specifically about certain, um, chemical substances. As a dork who has never smoked magic mushrooms through my rectum, I was fascinated. Once the cheese was sufficiently sweetened, we dug in, and Bard started chugging rum from a plate.

Now here we are at our final night in the great city of Marburg, a city that does not have a university, Marburg is a university. So, as you would expect with any university, it’s going to be full of constantly drunk people, young and old. Before our real party started, there was the closing ceremony. The ceremony started with Piano Man and Bard doing a duet on the piano on stage. This duet featured such notable hallmarks as music, people playing the piano, the sheet music unceremoniously dropping on the floor, an anxious look of terror spreading across the faces of the musicians as they realise that their alcohol raddled brains were going to need to remember what came next, and of course a song of some description. Then there were the speeches of various university staff members who had obviously started pre-gaming to help them get through the next hour or so, followed by presentations from each of the students. The presentations were arranged by German class, so each of the presentations were going to be very different and of different German abilities. For example, Dynamo was in the highest level German class, so most of her presentation was in fluent German, whereas Slim Shady and his class danced around while a German song played in the background. Don’t get me wrong, it was actually pretty impressive. He took his belt off like only the most professional strippers could. That boy has a bright future ahead of him. I was in a class with Yang and Mother Noor, and let’s just say that we aren’t the most adept German speakers (entire sections of our final exam had to be removed just so we’d pass). Our presentation involved reading out poems we’d written about our experience. The poems were supposed to be “Elfchen” which are simple eleven-word poems, but because I am an over achiever, and because I didn’t understand the task, I wrote a limerick about accidentally drinking alcohol free beer (ew, could you imagine). Now, my limerick would have been really funny if I could actually pronounce German words, and if any of the words actually rhymed. I wanted to do a German re-enactment of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, but it was apparently not appropriate for our class of a dozen students, because there aren’t really more than three characters. Everyone else could have been a tree or something. That would have saved me an entire evening of people telling me to “Watch out for the alcohol-free beer, haha.” Yeah, that was definitely funny the first seven times.

After the ceremony, we were treated to a buffet of various cold foods, but more importantly, an open bar. The night was full of group photos, and selfies, and Party Dad watching all of his friends very quickly getting mashed. Piano Man and few others were going to retreat to a Mexican bar, and wanted to know if we were going to join. We decided to stay a little longer, because there was free booze here, and not-free booze elsewhere, but the open bar had to close eventually, so we relented, and prepared to move out. The only problem was that Awesome had gone missing. The last time anyone saw him, he was drunkenly harassing his lecturers, telling them how much he loved their classes, which was weird because he was asleep right next to me in quite a few of them. The only reasonable explanation was that he must have gone with everyone else. Nope. He was not there, a fact we found very odd at first, but we very soon had a table full of margaritas, so there were more pressing matters at hand. Yang, Saskatoon Pirate, and I shared two litres of grapefruit margaritas, while Piano Man and Dynamo each had half a litre of what was effectively a fruity long island ice-tea. Only Bard was thinking responsibly, and she set off to find Awesome.

When Bard returned, it was not good. Awesome was in the bathroom, and not feeling his best. It turns out he stayed at the open bar indulging in the unending flow of free wine, and then set off onto the streets of Marburg alone. If Bard hadn’t found him, he would have been in deep shit. When I located his semi-conscious body, he was lying over a toilet, purging his body of all variety of toxins. It was time to get him home. Saskatoon pirate agreed to get the other drunk members of Party Bus home via a taxi, while Bard, Dynamo and I were going to wait for a bus, because no cab driver would let a currently vomiting dumbass anywhere near their vehicle. Then we got kicked off the bus as well. It was getting late, and we were in trouble. I had a plan. I ran across the road to the kebab shop, and came back with bottles of water, and more importantly, a plastic bag. We went to the cabbie who seemed to give the least number shits, covered Awesome’s head in a plastic bag, and raced back to the dorms. Shitless Cabbie did seem to start getting worried when he heard retching coming from the back of his car, but we assure him that we were currently asphyxiating the sick idiot, and his car was clean. He seemed happy enough with this excuse, and also an enormous tip, and dropped us off safety in front of Awesome’s dorm. While Bard made sure Dynamo got home safely, it was my job to get the drunkard to bed. This basically just involved undressing him (yeah, it was awesome), and ensuring his window was wide open in case one of us had to climb through tomorrow morning to wake him up. A plastic bucket was let next to his bed, I asked him nicely to please not choke on his own waste, and left him to rest.

Slim Shady was the first casualty. He left early in the morning before the rest of us could say goodbye. Next was Boy Virgin, who was bid farewell by teary eyed Dynamo, Bard, and Saskatoon Pirate. The rest of us took a train together to Frankfurt, but soon we had to say goodbye to bard and Piano Man who were off to Vienna. Next was Yang who was going to travel around Slovenia, and Princess, who was going back to Texas. Saskatoon Pirate had a much later flight, so she was going to stay Frankfurt for a few more hours. Dynamo and Awesome said goodbye at security. Then I was alone for the first time in four weeks. I spent the last of euros on an overpriced beverage, and just sat not knowing what was going to happen next. The ISU may have been over, but at least my beer wasn’t alcohol free.

#marburg #germany #travel #humour

[benrleeusa]

[Eugene Volokh] Short Circuit: A roundup of recent federal court decisions

(Here is the latest edition of the Institute for Justice’s weekly Short Circuit newsletter, written by John Ross.)

New on the podcast: a pair of protest cases and a flashback to 1L property law. Click here for iTunes.

Man lends $8.5k to acquaintance, who doesn’t repay it, even when the man gets a court order (that is upheld by the Rhode Island Supreme Court). Eureka! The feds bust the acquaintance for drug dealing, seize $14k. Can the man recover from the forfeiture proceeds? The First Circuit says no.

Swiss art dealer acquires Leonardo da Vinci painting from NYC auction house for Russian fertilizer magnate. Yikes! A New York Times article indicates the dealer perhaps overbilled the magnate $52 million. The magnate sues the dealer in French, Monégasque, and Singaporean courts. Second Circuit: The auction house must produce documents germane to the foreign litigation.

Allegation: West Point officers turned a blind eye to sexual assaults, promoted an atmosphere of misogyny on campus that contributed to plaintiff’s rape by a fellow cadet. Can plaintiff sue two senior officers for money damages? Second Circuit (over a dissent): It’s a military institution, so no.

A post-Katrina plan to invest in refurbishing hurricane-damaged properties in New Orleans goes south, forcing the Fifth Circuit to explore some of the less-traveled regions of the rules of civil procedure in a case that pulls in fights about bankruptcy, substituted service of process, and motions to set aside the judgment.

A woman by the Dickensian name of Ms. Moody sends many mean messages to her ex-husband, who asks an acquaintance at the Lowndes County, Miss., sheriff’s office to arrest her for “cyberstalking” (a charge that is quickly dismissed at a preliminary hearing). Can she sue the ex-husband for violating her constitutional rights? No, says the Fifth Circuit; he may be many things, but a state actor is not one of them.

Allegation: Woman flying from Abu Dhabi to Chicago reaches into seatback pocket, gets pricked by hypodermic needle. (An insulin syringe is also found.) Can she sue — not only for the prick but also for the emotional trauma over the possibility of being exposed to disease? Indeed so, says the Sixth Circuit, as the international treaty governing this kind of claim plainly states.

Prosecutors seek to forfeit bank accounts, cars, etc., allegedly mixed up in illicit dealings, seek to bar two claimants from challenging the forfeiture, as they are fugitives from criminal prosecution. Claimant 1: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Gaza, and Israeli and Egyptian travel restrictions won’t let me leave! Sixth Circuit: Yeah, the State Dep’t says you left Gaza years ago and your lawyer won’t tell us where you are. No property for you. Claimant 2: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Israel and will lose my permanent-resident status if I leave! Sixth Circuit: Most of the gov’t evidence comes from conversations with defense counsel at off-the-record status conferences, so we can’t review this.

Illinois takes custody of seemingly abandoned bank accounts; rightful owners can get their funds back but sans interest (which is earmarked for Illinois pensioners). Owner: I want my money back — with interest, the keeping of which violates the Fifth Amendment. District court: Shoulda sued in state court. Seventh Circuit: No, that would have been “pointless” and “bound to fail,” so federal court is theoretically just fine. But one can’t sue a state for money under Section 1983, the federal civil rights act.

Home of Wisconsin gubernatorial aide who helped craft law limiting public-employee benefits is raided by police with guns drawn. Retaliation for her political activities or a legitimate investigation into suspected misconduct by a public official? The allegations are troubling, says the Seventh Circuit, but the investigators are entitled to immunity.

During hearing on revocation of defendant’s supervised release, probation officer makes what the Seventh Circuit describes variously as “inflammatory,” “unprofessional” and “wildly inappropriate” statements — a “tirade” that “far exceed[s] the bounds of the probation officer’s role as a neutral information gatherer.” This “misinformation,” however, was not “of a constitutional magnitude,” so it’s back to the pokey for defendant.

From his porch, man records and criticizes Rosemount, Minn., police as they arrest his handicapped wife in the driveway. He’s arrested and charged with obstruction. (The charge is dismissed for lack of probable cause.) Eighth Circuit: The police have a tough job but no qualified immunity here. Dissent: This ruling makes their job tougher.

Allegation: As part of a “shame therapy” program created by a Kauai, Hawaii, warden, female inmates must stand in front of a large group of male and female inmates and detail their sexual histories. The warden distributes video of the sessions to other inmates. District court: The deadline for an inmate to sue started running after her last session, so this suit was filed too late. Ninth Circuit: No, it’s reasonable to think the trauma allegedly caused by the program took a few years to surface. The case should not have been dismissed.

Jury: A Santa Barbara, Calif., officer used excessive force in taking college student, who declined to drop water balloons he was carrying, to ground. Pay him $120,000. Ninth Circuit: Reversed. The officer is entitled to qualified immunity.

Is an off-duty police officer entitled to qualified immunity while providing private security in police uniform at a Honolulu hotel? No, holds the Ninth Circuit. The case should go to trial to decide if the officer violated a man’s constitutional rights by detaining him and allegedly doing nothing while hotel security beat him up.

The dugong (a marine mammal resembling a manatee) will get its day in court, after the Ninth Circuit ruled that environmental groups have standing to challenge plans to build a U.S. airbase in the waters off Okinawa, Japan.

ATF agent, “a disgrace to law enforcement,” conspires with Tulsa, Okla., police to steal cash and drugs from suspects, sell the drugs to dealers. Can a woman sentenced to 10 years in prison on the strength of the agent’s perjured testimony sue the United States? Indeed so, says the Tenth Circuit.

And in en banc news, the Ninth Circuit will reconsider its ruling that a public school system did not violate the Equal Pay Act by paying male employees more than a female counterpart because they earned more in previous jobs.

Educational choice programs give low-income families alternatives to their local public schools — something that middle- and high-income families already enjoy (as they can more readily afford housing in neighborhoods with good public schools or private school tuition). And the empirical evidence suggests (counterintuitively, it seems, to many folks of goodwill) that such programs promote racial integration and boost student performance at both public and private schools. Click here for an IJ white paper assembling the evidence and countering the many myths about private educational choice programs.

[nancyedimick]

Short Circuit: A roundup of recent federal court decisions

(Here is the latest edition of the Institute for Justice’s weekly Short Circuit newsletter, written by John Ross.)

New on the podcast: a pair of protest cases and a flashback to 1L property law. Click here for iTunes.

Man lends $8.5k to acquaintance, who doesn’t repay it, even when the man gets a court order (that is upheld by the Rhode Island Supreme Court). Eureka! The feds bust the acquaintance for drug dealing, seize $14k. Can the man recover from the forfeiture proceeds? The First Circuit says no.

Swiss art dealer acquires Leonardo da Vinci painting from NYC auction house for Russian fertilizer magnate. Yikes! A New York Times article indicates the dealer perhaps overbilled the magnate $52 million. The magnate sues the dealer in French, Monégasque, and Singaporean courts. Second Circuit: The auction house must produce documents germane to the foreign litigation.

Allegation: West Point officers turned a blind eye to sexual assaults, promoted an atmosphere of misogyny on campus that contributed to plaintiff’s rape by a fellow cadet. Can plaintiff sue two senior officers for money damages? Second Circuit (over a dissent): It’s a military institution, so no.

A post-Katrina plan to invest in refurbishing hurricane-damaged properties in New Orleans goes south, forcing the Fifth Circuit to explore some of the less-traveled regions of the rules of civil procedure in a case that pulls in fights about bankruptcy, substituted service of process, and motions to set aside the judgment.

A woman by the Dickensian name of Ms. Moody sends many mean messages to her ex-husband, who asks an acquaintance at the Lowndes County, Miss., sheriff’s office to arrest her for “cyberstalking” (a charge that is quickly dismissed at a preliminary hearing). Can she sue the ex-husband for violating her constitutional rights? No, says the Fifth Circuit; he may be many things, but a state actor is not one of them.

Allegation: Woman flying from Abu Dhabi to Chicago reaches into seatback pocket, gets pricked by hypodermic needle. (An insulin syringe is also found.) Can she sue — not only for the prick but also for the emotional trauma over the possibility of being exposed to disease? Indeed so, says the Sixth Circuit, as the international treaty governing this kind of claim plainly states.

Prosecutors seek to forfeit bank accounts, cars, etc., allegedly mixed up in illicit dealings, seek to bar two claimants from challenging the forfeiture, as they are fugitives from criminal prosecution. Claimant 1: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Gaza, and Israeli and Egyptian travel restrictions won’t let me leave! Sixth Circuit: Yeah, the State Dep’t says you left Gaza years ago and your lawyer won’t tell us where you are. No property for you. Claimant 2: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Israel and will lose my permanent-resident status if I leave! Sixth Circuit: Most of the gov’t evidence comes from conversations with defense counsel at off-the-record status conferences, so we can’t review this.

Illinois takes custody of seemingly abandoned bank accounts; rightful owners can get their funds back but sans interest (which is earmarked for Illinois pensioners). Owner: I want my money back — with interest, the keeping of which violates the Fifth Amendment. District court: Shoulda sued in state court. Seventh Circuit: No, that would have been “pointless” and “bound to fail,” so federal court is theoretically just fine. But one can’t sue a state for money under Section 1983, the federal civil rights act.

Home of Wisconsin gubernatorial aide who helped craft law limiting public-employee benefits is raided by police with guns drawn. Retaliation for her political activities or a legitimate investigation into suspected misconduct by a public official? The allegations are troubling, says the Seventh Circuit, but the investigators are entitled to immunity.

During hearing on revocation of defendant’s supervised release, probation officer makes what the Seventh Circuit describes variously as “inflammatory,” “unprofessional” and “wildly inappropriate” statements — a “tirade” that “far exceed[s] the bounds of the probation officer’s role as a neutral information gatherer.” This “misinformation,” however, was not “of a constitutional magnitude,” so it’s back to the pokey for defendant.

From his porch, man records and criticizes Rosemount, Minn., police as they arrest his handicapped wife in the driveway. He’s arrested and charged with obstruction. (The charge is dismissed for lack of probable cause.) Eighth Circuit: The police have a tough job but no qualified immunity here. Dissent: This ruling makes their job tougher.

Allegation: As part of a “shame therapy” program created by a Kauai, Hawaii, warden, female inmates must stand in front of a large group of male and female inmates and detail their sexual histories. The warden distributes video of the sessions to other inmates. District court: The deadline for an inmate to sue started running after her last session, so this suit was filed too late. Ninth Circuit: No, it’s reasonable to think the trauma allegedly caused by the program took a few years to surface. The case should not have been dismissed.

Jury: A Santa Barbara, Calif., officer used excessive force in taking college student, who declined to drop water balloons he was carrying, to ground. Pay him $120,000. Ninth Circuit: Reversed. The officer is entitled to qualified immunity.

Is an off-duty police officer entitled to qualified immunity while providing private security in police uniform at a Honolulu hotel? No, holds the Ninth Circuit. The case should go to trial to decide if the officer violated a man’s constitutional rights by detaining him and allegedly doing nothing while hotel security beat him up.

The dugong (a marine mammal resembling a manatee) will get its day in court, after the Ninth Circuit ruled that environmental groups have standing to challenge plans to build a U.S. airbase in the waters off Okinawa, Japan.

ATF agent, “a disgrace to law enforcement,” conspires with Tulsa, Okla., police to steal cash and drugs from suspects, sell the drugs to dealers. Can a woman sentenced to 10 years in prison on the strength of the agent’s perjured testimony sue the United States? Indeed so, says the Tenth Circuit.

And in en banc news, the Ninth Circuit will reconsider its ruling that a public school system did not violate the Equal Pay Act by paying male employees more than a female counterpart because they earned more in previous jobs.

Educational choice programs give low-income families alternatives to their local public schools — something that middle- and high-income families already enjoy (as they can more readily afford housing in neighborhoods with good public schools or private school tuition). And the empirical evidence suggests (counterintuitively, it seems, to many folks of goodwill) that such programs promote racial integration and boost student performance at both public and private schools. Click here for an IJ white paper assembling the evidence and countering the many myths about private educational choice programs.

Originally Found On: http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/volokh-conspiracy/wp/2017/09/04/short-circuit-a-roundup-of-recent-federal-court-decisions-71/

[wolfandpravato]

Short Circuit: A roundup of recent federal court decisions

(Here is the latest edition of the Institute for Justice’s weekly Short Circuit newsletter, written by John Ross.)

New on the podcast: a pair of protest cases and a flashback to 1L property law. Click here for iTunes.

Man lends $8.5k to acquaintance, who doesn’t repay it, even when the man gets a court order (that is upheld by the Rhode Island Supreme Court). Eureka! The feds bust the acquaintance for drug dealing, seize $14k. Can the man recover from the forfeiture proceeds? The First Circuit says no.

Swiss art dealer acquires Leonardo da Vinci painting from NYC auction house for Russian fertilizer magnate. Yikes! A New York Times article indicates the dealer perhaps overbilled the magnate $52 million. The magnate sues the dealer in French, Monégasque, and Singaporean courts. Second Circuit: The auction house must produce documents germane to the foreign litigation.

Allegation: West Point officers turned a blind eye to sexual assaults, promoted an atmosphere of misogyny on campus that contributed to plaintiff’s rape by a fellow cadet. Can plaintiff sue two senior officers for money damages? Second Circuit (over a dissent): It’s a military institution, so no.

A post-Katrina plan to invest in refurbishing hurricane-damaged properties in New Orleans goes south, forcing the Fifth Circuit to explore some of the less-traveled regions of the rules of civil procedure in a case that pulls in fights about bankruptcy, substituted service of process, and motions to set aside the judgment.

A woman by the Dickensian name of Ms. Moody sends many mean messages to her ex-husband, who asks an acquaintance at the Lowndes County, Miss., sheriff’s office to arrest her for “cyberstalking” (a charge that is quickly dismissed at a preliminary hearing). Can she sue the ex-husband for violating her constitutional rights? No, says the Fifth Circuit; he may be many things, but a state actor is not one of them.

Allegation: Woman flying from Abu Dhabi to Chicago reaches into seatback pocket, gets pricked by hypodermic needle. (An insulin syringe is also found.) Can she sue — not only for the prick but also for the emotional trauma over the possibility of being exposed to disease? Indeed so, says the Sixth Circuit, as the international treaty governing this kind of claim plainly states.

Prosecutors seek to forfeit bank accounts, cars, etc., allegedly mixed up in illicit dealings, seek to bar two claimants from challenging the forfeiture, as they are fugitives from criminal prosecution. Claimant 1: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Gaza, and Israeli and Egyptian travel restrictions won’t let me leave! Sixth Circuit: Yeah, the State Dep’t says you left Gaza years ago and your lawyer won’t tell us where you are. No property for you. Claimant 2: I’m not a fugitive; it’s just I moved to Israel and will lose my permanent-resident status if I leave! Sixth Circuit: Most of the gov’t evidence comes from conversations with defense counsel at off-the-record status conferences, so we can’t review this.

Illinois takes custody of seemingly abandoned bank accounts; rightful owners can get their funds back but sans interest (which is earmarked for Illinois pensioners). Owner: I want my money back — with interest, the keeping of which violates the Fifth Amendment. District court: Shoulda sued in state court. Seventh Circuit: No, that would have been “pointless” and “bound to fail,” so federal court is theoretically just fine. But one can’t sue a state for money under Section 1983, the federal civil rights act.

Home of Wisconsin gubernatorial aide who helped craft law limiting public-employee benefits is raided by police with guns drawn. Retaliation for her political activities or a legitimate investigation into suspected misconduct by a public official? The allegations are troubling, says the Seventh Circuit, but the investigators are entitled to immunity.

During hearing on revocation of defendant’s supervised release, probation officer makes what the Seventh Circuit describes variously as “inflammatory,” “unprofessional” and “wildly inappropriate” statements — a “tirade” that “far exceed[s] the bounds of the probation officer’s role as a neutral information gatherer.” This “misinformation,” however, was not “of a constitutional magnitude,” so it’s back to the pokey for defendant.

From his porch, man records and criticizes Rosemount, Minn., police as they arrest his handicapped wife in the driveway. He’s arrested and charged with obstruction. (The charge is dismissed for lack of probable cause.) Eighth Circuit: The police have a tough job but no qualified immunity here. Dissent: This ruling makes their job tougher.

Allegation: As part of a “shame therapy” program created by a Kauai, Hawaii, warden, female inmates must stand in front of a large group of male and female inmates and detail their sexual histories. The warden distributes video of the sessions to other inmates. District court: The deadline for an inmate to sue started running after her last session, so this suit was filed too late. Ninth Circuit: No, it’s reasonable to think the trauma allegedly caused by the program took a few years to surface. The case should not have been dismissed.

Jury: A Santa Barbara, Calif., officer used excessive force in taking college student, who declined to drop water balloons he was carrying, to ground. Pay him $120,000. Ninth Circuit: Reversed. The officer is entitled to qualified immunity.

Is an off-duty police officer entitled to qualified immunity while providing private security in police uniform at a Honolulu hotel? No, holds the Ninth Circuit. The case should go to trial to decide if the officer violated a man’s constitutional rights by detaining him and allegedly doing nothing while hotel security beat him up.

The dugong (a marine mammal resembling a manatee) will get its day in court, after the Ninth Circuit ruled that environmental groups have standing to challenge plans to build a U.S. airbase in the waters off Okinawa, Japan.

ATF agent, “a disgrace to law enforcement,” conspires with Tulsa, Okla., police to steal cash and drugs from suspects, sell the drugs to dealers. Can a woman sentenced to 10 years in prison on the strength of the agent’s perjured testimony sue the United States? Indeed so, says the Tenth Circuit.

And in en banc news, the Ninth Circuit will reconsider its ruling that a public school system did not violate the Equal Pay Act by paying male employees more than a female counterpart because they earned more in previous jobs.

Educational choice programs give low-income families alternatives to their local public schools — something that middle- and high-income families already enjoy (as they can more readily afford housing in neighborhoods with good public schools or private school tuition). And the empirical evidence suggests (counterintuitively, it seems, to many folks of goodwill) that such programs promote racial integration and boost student performance at both public and private schools. Click here for an IJ white paper assembling the evidence and countering the many myths about private educational choice programs.

Originally Found On: http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/volokh-conspiracy/wp/2017/09/04/short-circuit-a-roundup-of-recent-federal-court-decisions-71/

#Law #Lawyer

[envirotravel]

Surprises From Six Weeks in Brazil

As my biggest getaway of 2016, I spent plenty of time meticulously planning my six week trip to Brazil. And yet for all my research and reading, nothing can actually prepare you for the culture shock of completely immersing yourself in a new country, new language, and new lifestyle.

So many aspects of Brazil took me completely by surprise — both good and bad! While I’ve sprinkled in plenty of stray observations throughout my coverage, here are a few final thoughts on the biggest bombshells of my trip. Of course, in the end these are just the musings of a tourist — my experience was shaded heavily by my luck and by my mood. Others might have a different take. Brazilians, feel free to set me straight if I’ve misinterpreted your culture in any way.

How safe we felt

One of our pleasant surprises of the trip was how comfortable Heather and I felt as two women traveling alone through what is often considered a very dangerous county. I should note that we had very low expectations in this regard. Stories of theft in Brazil are so rampant that I literally considered buying a backup iPhone before this trip, because that’s how much I had pre-accepted that I was going to be robbed blind. My first day in São Paulo was a hilarious wake up call that I really needed to chill.

While we were constantly — like literally, constantly — warned by everyone we encountered to be careful with our cameras (to which we were like, yeah, duh), we were vigilant and cautious and had zero issues and really felt surprisingly safe and secure throughout our time in Brazil, with a few uneasy but brief exceptions. Of course many travelers do experience crime in this country, hence the constant warnings, but our experience was a reminder that there are plenty of travelers who move through the country grief-free, too.

How no one gave a flip about Zika

Our trip was at the HEIGHT of Zika mania. My dad, a busy CEO who probably isn’t really sure what country I am in the vast majority of the time, called me specifically to ask if I might consider postponing or canceling my trip — Heather’s parents did the same.

So I arrived half-expecting some sort of Hazmat-covered country under quarantine. And seriously? No one cared. No. one. cared. The first few times Heather or I casually brought up Zika to Brazilians, they looked at us like we were paranoid nutjobs. When we told them that Zika was still headline news every night in the US, they were baffled. “Oh yes, Zika. I had it last year. Dengue is much worse,” a doctor we met at Tomorrowland told us flippantly before casually ordering up another caipirinha. As someone who is kind of the opposite of a hypochondriac, I found the whole attitude very refreshing.

Also? We literally did not see one mosquito. Anywhere. Ironically, our two biggest fears before arriving in Brazil could not have been less of an issue.

How hard it was to communicate

Yet the thing I didn’t think to fear left me so frustrated I nearly flew home early. Living in Thailand, a country where I speak no more than a pitiful few throwaway phrases in the country’s notoriously difficult and tonal language, I have done plenty of pantomiming and getting by with little-to-no shared vocabulary. I’ve traveled to 37 countries now and before Brazil, communication has never been an issue beyond a passing flicker of frustration — I certainly never imagined that a language barrier would negatively influence one of my trips.

It started with a very misplaced sense of confidence. I like to classify myself as a “blissfully barely-competent Spanish speaker.” Which is a winking way of saying that while I’m far from fluent, I love speaking Spanish and embrace the challenge with gusto, never letting an improperly conjugated verb get in the way of a productive conversation in Latin America. And I thought, how different can Spanish and Portuguese be?

Ha! That false sense of security was only heightened by the planning stage of our trip, in which I was able to fairly easily understand several all-Portuguese websites. Oh, how naive I was! I’d soon learn that written Portuguese and spoken Portuguese are two entirely different beasts. While the former is quite similar to its Spanish cousin, the ladder was unlike anything I’d ever heard. “When we first boarded our plan to Brazil for Argentina, we wondered why they were giving the announcements in Russian,” confessed my Israeli travel companions in Jericoacoara. At the risk of offending my Portuguese-speaking readers, the primary adjective I’d use to describe Brazilian Portuguese was mushy. Without the sharp clarifying corners I’d grown to love in the Spanish language, I couldn’t even pick up the different words when spoken to in Brazilian Portuguese. And again, I greatly hesitate to write this and offend any Portuguese speaking readers, but the truth is the language didn’t agree with my ears. In the same way that some people’s taste buds are predisposed to certain foods, the sound of different languages appeal to different people. Portuguese just isn’t my jam.

Of course, I accept full responsibility for not knowing more than the basic guidebook phrases when I arrived in Brazil. Translation apps can only go so far, and I should have been better prepared.

But regardless, you must be thinking, surely there are plenty of Brazilians who speak English? Nao muitos! Studies claim only 3% of Brazilians speak English as a second language. And I found that those who might were extremely reluctant to speak it.

In Southeast Asia, for comparison, my experience has been that there is no expectation among locals that foreigners will speak Thai, Khmer, or Laotian. Fluency in English is also a rare trait in this region, though communication between traveler and local is generally light-hearted and earnest. There’s a sense of, we’re in this together, and neither of us is leaving until we figure out how many papayas I want to buy and how much you’re going to charge me for them, gosh darn it. 

But I found that in Brazil, it was harder to get anyone to even attempt to communicate — my apologetic English or hapless attempts at Portuguese were frequently met with terror, blank stares, and the person I was speaking to simply walking away from me. At Tomorrowland Brazil, I was unable to hear an employee at the information booth’s hesitant reply to me in English due to the loud music playing; when I asked her to repeat herself, she shook her head over and over again in mortified horror until I finally gave up and walked away. In Duty Free at São Paulo’s international airport, multiple employees practically sprinted from me in fear when I, again, always apologetically, requested assistance in English. When I wrote emails to hostels with English websites, they went unanswered. And more than once, I called a business and was told harshly, in perfect English, “we don’t speak any English,” before being hung up on. Needless to say my attempts to politely ask, “puedo hablar in Español?” were, with a few exceptions, also a giant flop.

I don’t think any of the people — just a few random examples plucked from six weeks of exasperation — were trying to be rude or unhelpful (in fact, the Brazilians we met who were comfortable speaking English were overwhelmingly warm and bubbly.) It was explained to me that many Brazilians are simply embarrassed by their lack of English abilities. In fact, one Brazilian I met explained that the reason we’d encountered so many domestic travelers at the hostels we stayed at was that Brazilians are often hesitant to travel to other countries, given their limited English abilities. It affects not just travel but business, too. And while many articles I’ve read in researching the lack of English speaking in Brazil assured me that locals would go out of their way to help me despite our lack of shared languages, I unfortunately did not find that to be the case. Maybe we just had bad luck.

Heather and I spent a lot of time reflecting on why we personally found the language barrier in Brazil so upsetting. We met quite a few men on the road (women traveling without male companions in Brazil were rare from our observation) who were basically like, “ha ha yeah we don’t understand anything! Who cares!”

Is it that as women we have to be more concerned about our physical safety? Is it that we are highly attuned to being talked over and brushed off? Do we just find communication to be more important? Whatever it was, I found myself very on edge knowing that I was unable to express myself in the local language, and that if I were to try to use body language or, heaven forbid, my mother tongue, I’d clear the room. I felt invisible and vulnerable in a way I never have before while traveling.

The champagne campaign

On a lighter note, I couldn’t believe how much Brazilians LOVE bubbly. I was extremely onboard with this. Tomorrowland Brasil had more champagne tents than beer ones, our brunch restaurant in Rio de Janeiro had a DIY Bubbles Bar for creative mimosas, and at three out of the five hotels I stayed at on the trip, sparkling wine was handed to us at check-in — at in some cases, again at check-out!

We learned at our cooking class in Paraty that the sparkling wine industry in Brazil is booming, which made it all click.

How diverse it is

One thing that struck me immediately is how many nationalities Brazil encompasses, especially coming from uber-homogonous Thailand. Brazil is enormous and incredibly ethnically diverse, and there is no one way to look Brazilian.

From the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, German-descended Brazilians of the south to the Afro-Caribbean Brazilians of the northeast to the indigenous tribes of the Amazon and everyone inbetween, Brazil is a really beautiful mosaic of different faces.

What novelties we were

I mean hello — this is the country that has hosted the World Cup and the Olympics in just a few short years! Surely a few blonde gringas wandering around would be no big deal? Yet even in one of the most famous cities in the world, we were blessed with some very authentic little interactions that reminded us that we were a fairly exotic sight to some, and provided a sweet and refreshing counter-point to the frustrating anecdotes I outlined above.

It started with the dozens of Brazilians whose eyes lit up with excitement when they saw the American flag I was waving at Tomorrowland and came over to give me a high five — a refreshing reaction, as a citizen of a country that tends to take a lot of international flack.

And it continued with the hilarious National Park Ranger at Christo Redentor who whipped out a notebook and solemnly quizzed us on random English slang and insults after hearing us chatting; furrowing his brow and taking detailed notes at each of our replies. The employees at the pet supply shop it Botafogo who were very indiscreetly taking photos of us with their cell phone until we started chatting in broken Spanish and showing them pictures of our dogs, at which point they dropped the secrecy and each took turns taking photos with us and shyly gifting each of us a special free dog toy to bring home to our pups. The man in the favela who waved us over and insisted I try his BBQ meat straight off the grill, wanting only a smile in return. The salesgirl who sold me a $12 dress and gave me a huge, heart-felt hug before I left the store.

The Uber driver who saved us from disaster and drove us all the way from Rio to Buzios, calling everyone in his phonebook and excitedly repeating the same story — we got the gist of it when we heard “Americanos!” sprinkled in over and over again. Though he didn’t speak a single word of English, he chivalrously tried to be of assistance when we stopped at a rest area for snacks, hugged and kissed us when we got to Buzios, and looked back at his star fares with pride as he started the long three-hour drive back to Rio.

How much I loved São Paulo

While planning this trip I kind of considered São Paulo a necessary evil; a place we had to fly into and out of and stop in on the way to and from Tomorrowland. And yet it literally turned out to be one of my top two favorite destinations of the trip (alongside Jericoacoara, its polar opposite).However, while São Paulo might have been the greatest surprise, all the destinations I visited were great in their own ways. There’s not one stop on our trip that was a disappointment in and of itself, though some were somewhat marred by terrible weather and other circumstances.

I originally only planned four nights in São Paulo, but it was long enough to have lingering moments of wondering what it might be like to move there. (And also to my great surprise, I never once had that “if I lived here…” daydream in Rio.) I loved South America’s largest city so much, however, that I ended up stopping there for three more nights on my way back out of the country.

I spent most of it chilling out and reflecting on the six weeks behind me and little else (hence the lack of a blog post on this time), and what a better place to do so than Hotel Unique, where I wildly splurged on one last night of luxury. One of the most architecturally distinctive hotels I’ve ever stayed in, Hotel Unique summed up the cutting edge art, stylish design and bold style that made me fall for São Paulo in the first place — what a perfect note to say goodbye to the city, and the country, on.

The crazy kissing culture

Heather and I didn’t go out much for the first five weeks we were traveling together (my final week, when I was itinerary-less in Jericoacoara, I let loose a bit more.) However, we had one big night out in Rio and one big night out in Buzios, and both of them had one common theme — we were fending off random liplocks left and right!

In Buzios, we actually ended up chatting to a group of guys away on a bachelor weekend who spoke great English, and playfully confronted them about the apparent Brazilian preference for kissing first, asking names second. They conceded with a laugh that it was true, but countered with a scandalized observation of their own. “But American women… it’s crazy… they dance like they want to [redacted term for intimate activities]!” 

The finer nuances of twerking, it seems, have not reached the shores of Brazil. We couldn’t stop laughing. But it’s true — in the US, it’s fairly common sight in nightclubs for people to wordlessly approach each other and dance pretty intimately, which we were learning was as shocking to Brazilians as their saying-hi-with-a-snog was to us.

That Brazil is not a year-round tropical paradise

Perhaps some of you will read this and say “duh.” But Heather and I were ridiculously unprepared for the weather we encountered throughout April and May in Brazil, which is their autumn. Our first week was glorious (residents of São Paulo complained of a heatwave but it felt great to us!), our second was a disaster (it downpoured in Paraty non-stop for days), and the two weeks that followed were mostly nice with a few full days of rain tossed in to keep us on our toes. We had to cancel a bunch of activities as a result, which was a bummer.

However, the larger issue is that we were just completely unprepared for the evening temperatures. During the day, these two Southeast-Asia expats were happy and smiling in sleeveless tops and sundresses. But as soon as the sun went down at 5:30pm, the temperature would drop down to the fifties — omg! — and we would literally be sent into a frenzied cold panic. Neither of us had anything more substantial than jeans and a cardigan, and I kid you not when I say there were multiple people in Paraty wearing puffy coats and winter hats to keep warm. There were many days where we’d make big plans to go out for a few drinks in the evening and as soon as we felt that chill in the air we would freak out, run back to our rooms, put on as many layers and possible, make ourselves into bedding burritos and wish for for the warmth of the sun until morning. Dramatic? Abso-freaking-lutely. But there is very little that I loathe more than being cold — I’ve literally designed my entire life around avoiding it. And I didn’t do a very good job in Brazil.

Don’t let the pictures of palm trees fool you. Brazil is an enormous country with four seasons and a major range of eco-systems. Do your research and pack accordingly!

How carefully you need to pack

In addition to the weather wake-up call above, we also discovered a few other surprises that make packing well essential for a happy trip to Brazil. First of all? Laundry is surprisingly tough to do. Hostels don’t offer per-kilo laundry service like travelers might be used to in Southeast Asia or other parts of Latin America, and laundromats are few and far between.

Second? Electronics are insanely taxed and tough to track down. For long trips, bring extra camera batteries, a spare laptop chargers, the works. I got the shock of my life when my MacBook charger fried and it was going to cost a cool $17oUSD to replace it. No joke! I heard at least one Brazilian explain that Apple products in particular are harshly marked up by both authorized and off-the-books retailers — one of the reasons iPhones are one of the prime targets for street snatchings.

How few backpackers we met

I’ve touched on this before, but in our weeks of traveling through Brazil, I was absolutely blown away by the lack of English-speaking travelers we encountered (which meant, compounded with our issues communicating with locals, Heather and I got to have a lot of deep and meaningful conversations with each other. I’m pretty sure she was ready to never, ever hear the sound of my voice again by the time she headed home.)

Having experienced the Gringo Trail full blast in Peru and Ecuador and throughout Central America, I found it baffling at first. Hello… where are all the battered-passport, backpack-toting Europeans, Australians, and North Americans on long haul trips around the continent?! Where are the retirees in zip-off pants? Where are the honeymooners? I didn’t find a heavy concentration of any of them, or any sort of traditional backpacker scene, until I hit Jericoacoara.

Why? Brazil has more visa restrictions than its neighboring countries, it is bigger and more expensive and thus a bit more intimidating to travel. Plus, six of the seven hostels I stayed in throughout my six weeks in Brazil were overwhelmingly populated by domestic Brazilian travelers. The cool thing is that the Brazilians staying in hostels are more likely than the rest of the population to speak a bit of English, and getting to bond with locals who are also traveling is pretty unique and fun — I went to the beach and to dinner with Brazilians in Jeri, we partied with Brazilians at Tomorrowland and I had some awesome chats over breakfast with Brazilians in São Paulo. However, those were kind of the exceptions and for the most part, everyone in the hostels spoke Portuguese and it was hard to break into that clique as an English speaker. Speaking Spanish does help, as many non-domestic travelers hail from neighboring Spanish-speaking countries, specifically Argentina.

Typically I love traveling alone, however in this case I was incredibly grateful to be on the road with Heather for the majority of my trip, lest I feel totally linguistically isolated from the world for six weeks straight.

How unique the beach culture was

As a certified beach girl, I thought I knew a think or two about spending a day on the sand. Nah. Brazilians have the most unique beach culture I’ve encountered anywhere in the world — I wrote a whole post about it! People always talk about how Brazilians can teach the world a thing or two about how to party. I think they can also show us how to go to the beach!

How tough it was to get a visa

Seriously, hats off to those of you who have to go through the difficult process of procuring a visa for every country you travel to. As a US citizen, most of the visas I’ve applied for in my life have been because I have desired to stay in a specific country longer than the standard visa-waiver would allow. And while they’ve often been a headache to procure, Brazil was the biggest eye opener by far.

First, I had to travel in-person to Bangkok to apply, and by that point I’d already gone back and forth with the embassy multiple times with questions about the application questions and procedure and other logistical issues. The amount of information I had to procure was astounding and I felt like I had assembled approximately twenty-seven documents by the time I was finished. My appointment was stressful, with my interviewer grilling me on minute details of my trip, cross checking my application with Heather’s (who had gone in separately) and berated me for not photocopying my passport ahead of time to the point that I broke down after my appointment worried that my application was going to be denied.

And it was expensive! The whole shebang set me back about $230, not including the cost of a trip to Bangkok, where thankfully I was going to be anyway. I was definitely left with a newfound respect for my fellow travelers who have to cut through this much red tape and more for every trip.

Have you been to Brazil? If so, what surprised you about your trip? If not, which of these would catch you off guard?

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