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ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

chasing butterflies | jjk

you never meant to be a jock in school. the volleyball team had just needed people and you were there and then you had a knack for it. you just happened to be good at it and went with it. similar to how you saw jeon jungkook in your friend’s orientation group and thought he was absolutely radiant and just went with it. for two years. you’ve spent the entire time pining from afar, mostly because you always seem to make a fool of yourself when he’s around, but also because jungkook is part of that exclusive crowd, the ones that you never can seem to penetrate: the weebs. that is, until your friends get sick of your hopeless pining and decide to do something about it.

pairing | jeon jungkook x reader

genre/warnings | fluff, college au, coffee shop au, pining, somewhat idiots to lovers, jock!reader, nerd/weeb/otaku!kook, swimmer!kook, jock!jimin, kook smiles a lot, reader is a dumbass, jungkook is a dumbass, everyone’s a dumbass tbh, love confessions, profanity, like a lot of profanity, smut: oral (f receiving), face riding, grinding, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap ur willy before things get silly kids!), creampie, soft!kook except when horny, this is somewhat crack-y, there’s also a very fair amount of secondhand embarrassment in this just fair warning i cringed a lot while writing it

word count | 12.8k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | i busted literally all of this in one day because i couldn’t sleep and had the idea for a coffeeshop au with pining nerd/jock, but i didn’t want to do the trope of pining nerd and i also kept seeing @strawbxxymilk‘s tags saying she was going to fight jungkook, so you can partially blame her for his (love u reni xx) i’m honestly REALLY in love with this fic, it was so much fun to write and even edit, like i honestly have never been happier with how a fic turned out.

If asked, you don’t think you’d be able to point to one exact moment that led to this. You aren’t sure why anything about your college life has been the way it is. You went through almost all middle school and part of high school intending on coasting through under the radar. You didn’t have many friends and you didn’t mind that, citing quality over quantity, and you definitely expected that to continue into your extended school career.

Somehow, though, you ended up on the volleyball team - the captain had seen you playing in a gym class and recruited you. She was adamant that with practice and training, you’d be great, and also they needed at least one more person if they were going to have any chance at competing that year. So you agreed, started practicing, got good, and…kept doing it. You were a talented player, and you made several close friends through the game, ones that had lasted you until even now.

You only got better and better, too, earning you more than one offer from various universities. It was exciting when you finally chose one, and even more exciting that your friend group almost tripled overnight. University teams were large, you discovered, and while that meant more competition, it also meant more friends. More friends that had more connections to people on other teams, in other sports, who were also fun and extroverted and threw really good parties.

You like to think you’re still that little nobody from middle school. You enjoy your readings and your coursework, and a lot of nights you choose to stay behind in your shared apartment instead of going out. As much as you like to think that, though, you can’t help but face the truth every time you look in the mirror after practice or a game or a workout.

You’re a jock.

You don’t even know why. The labels were supposed to end when high school did, and yet here you were. You pretty much only hang out with other sporty people, since no one has much time to make friends with anyone they didn’t see five times a week and every other weekend. You have a strict workout regimen that you run through with other girls from the team. Your class schedule is built around your volleyball schedule. You call yourself an athlete. You get looks sometimes, from the smart kids who think they’re better because you’re ‘only’ an athlete and they’re not. It reminds you of the people who look down on other sports because theirs is the only ‘true’ sport. Those people used to piss you off, but you’ve grown used to them now; there would always be people who thought they were better because of some imagined divide.

Realistically, there is no divide. People are free to associate with whoever they want, fuck the social norms that become ingrained in high school to contrast class differences. Okay, your Societal Influences class may have skewed your thinking a bit, but your point stands. You had no good reason to conform to the antiquated ideas of high schoolers.

So why, why, are you still standing by a waffle maker and staring helplessly at him?

Jisoo nudges you and you move to let her at the waffle, not looking away from him. She follows your line of sight and laughs when she sees him. “Seriously?” She asks, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” You groan, popping part of a roll into your mouth.

“It’s been almost three years,” She teases. “How have you not worked up the nerve to talk to him?”

“Two years, three months,” You correct as you follow her to where the chocolate syrup and fruit await for her waffle monstrosity. You can’t even look at it anymore, sickened by the mere sight of all the sugar stacked atop it.

“That is not helping your case the way you think it is.”

“I can’t just…talk to him, he’s gonna think I’m weird. Who just walks up to someone and says ‘hi, I saw you in my friend’s orientation group two years ago and thought you were the most beautiful man in existence, and still think that in fact, would you mind going out with me?’” Jisoo levels you with a look that could make cacti wilt.

“Uh, plenty of people do that every day. That’s how relationships happen. I know you’ve got this big hard-on for this whole…pining, lovesick idiot look,” She barrels on, ignoring the squawk of defiance you let loose, “But it’s getting kind of hopeless. That one guy asked you out, like, last month, and you literally laughed at him.”

“In my defense, he was like way older than us! I don’t want to go out with a grandpa!”

“I cannot believe you just called Kim Seokjin a grandpa, the entire team is going to revolt against you for this.”

You huff and lead her to the table you picked out, which she very kindly does not mention gives you a perfect view of him while you pick at your food. She continues to rant at you about your hopeless crush, but you don’t even hear her anymore, because he’s laughing at something across the dining hall and it makes your chest tighten.

God damn, you don’t know how in the hell someone so fucking nerdy can make you so fucking weak in the knees.

Across the room, Jungkook adjusts the round lenses that have been sliding down his nose, and it makes your heart flutter. He laughs again at something someone beside him said. His nose scrunches as he does it, and the cute bunny teeth are obvious, and it makes you want to die a little inside but also throw him off a bridge a little bit. He starts talking, animated and excited, and you wonder what it is he’s talking about. You can almost pretend that he’s talking about you for a second, until he pulls something out of his bag and sets it on the table, covering it with his hands before pulling them back in a dramatic effort to reveal–

God, it’s a fucking Hatsune Miku figurine.

You feel like sobbing at the sight. “God, he’s such a fucking weeb,” You say, hatred for yourself rolling off the words in absolute waves. Jisoo huffs, probably annoyed that you haven’t been listening to her rant, and waves a hand.

“You knew this,” She tells you bluntly. The issue is that she’s 100% correct; the first time you ever remember seeing Jungkook, he was in a God damn Naruto cosplay, dumbass wig in his hands while he adjusted his ninja headband, and he was still the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid your eyes on.

His eyes dart over like he could hear your thoughts and he makes eye contact; you get whiplash, you look away so fast. Your face is burning, you can feel it, and you’re actually in danger of staring a hole into the table with how hard you’re looking at it.

“You’re safe, he isn’t looking anymore,” Jisoo eventually says. You chance a glance to see that Jungkook is focused on whatever conversation he’s having, Hatsune Miku nowhere to be seen and replaced with a very pretty red flush across his cheeks. You audibly coo over the sight and Jisoo pretends to gag.

“Don’t you have class?” She says. It’s obviously an attempt to distract you, she’s always so transparent about those things. Jungkook looks over again and suddenly your phone becomes the most fascinating thing in the entire world. You balk at the time, because fuck, you really do have class in two minutes.

“Bye Jisoo, love you, don’t gorge yourself on waffles, or Rose will kill you at practice!” You shout over your shoulder as you bolt from the dining hall.

You don’t see nor feel the eyes on your back as you go, too focused on making the five-minute walk into a sixty-second sprint.

Work is boring. It always is. You work the overnight shift, 9 pm to 4 am, so that you can balance your volleyball schedule and your classes and your bills. If there were less 24-hour coffee shops around, it may be busier, but alas, the trend of having spaces for haggard and exhausted college students to roll into at all hours of the day had caught on, and thus, you work at one of four all-night coffee shops. And that’s only on this side of campus. There were even more on the other side, where the dorms were, and they see much more traffic than yours. Kids never want to go very far to get caffeine, so the ones across the way were always bustling and packed full of people writing last-minute papers and emailing for sources and who knows what else.

Which meant that only the stray customer wandered in after dark, usually people getting off work and wanting to unwind for a second before heading home. You got a lot of homeless people, camping out in corners away from other people and sipping on one coffee for hours at a time. Some of the other workers complained about them, but you didn’t really care one way or another. If it kept them off the street and out of the cold, then you’d let them sit there as long as you could. It wasn’t like there were many people around to complain, anyway.

Of course, the few customers meant that there were fewer interruptions to the daily tasks you had to do, so it only takes an hour or two, max, every night to get everything clean, stocked, polished, and counted. Which left another five for you to fill.

You sigh, staring at a blank page of your notebook. You’re lucky your boss doesn’t care if the workers do schoolwork on the job, so long as the work gets done and the customers are happy, but just this once you curse him for being so kind. You’ve been procrastinating this essay for a week and it was due next class, but you had absolutely no idea where to even start. You sigh again and straighten as the bell over the door rings, the customary 'Welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you today?’ already halfway out before you actually look up.

You choke on air as Jungkook smiles at you, small and shy and sweet, and you can actually feel part of your soul shrivel up and die along with every single one of your brain cells. You stare at him for a solid six seconds as he peruses the menu hanging above your head, and you’re so focused on memorizing the way he looks this close up that you nearly miss his order.

“A large iced black, please?” He phrases it like a question and it’s adorable, despite the countless times you’ve bitched to Jisoo about people doing the exact same thing in the past. You tack on your customer service smile as best you can and ring him up.

It’s a relief to turn away from him to actually make his drink. He’s gorgeous, even with the dumbass hoodie with some naked anatomy model on it that has to be from some anime, that it makes it hard for you to breathe. He’s not even wearing the nerd glasses and it just makes his eyes so much more obviously beautiful, and you know Jisoo is going to whine about hearing you wax poetic over them for weeks after this. Your hands shake as you pour the coffee into the cup and click the lid into place, but you force yourself to steady them as you hand it to him.

He’s blushing again, and you want to kiss it so badly, and he waves. “Thanks,” He says as he starts to leave. Your brain is torn between responses, one half reverting to your generic response and the other wanting to assure it him it was absolutely not anything he needed to thank you for, and you can feel the stupidity coming, but you cannot stop the words as they claw up your throat and you nearly shout–

“Your problem!”

He falters in his steps, turning to give you a confused look, and you’re honestly disappointed the earth doesn’t quake and part to drag you directly to the pits of hell, because even that would be less painful than having to maintain your professional demeanor like you didn’t just say the absolute stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your entire fucking life.

Jungkook just nods and strides out of the coffee shop, bell dinging in his wake.

The screech you unleash in the break room a few seconds later is inhuman and chilling, and yet Rose doesn’t seem at all fazed.

“I would say you should just talk to him, but clearly you can’t even do that like a normal person.” She pats your arm as you bang your head into the table, and you consider the option of getting new friends.

You’re no stranger to wild Jungkook sightings. You both go to the same university, you both have similar classes, you both take full advantage of the dining hall at every opportunity, you both use the library. It’s hard to go ten feet on campus without seeing someone you know, and it’s even harder when you’re actively looking for that person everywhere you go.

So you’ve already seen him a couple of times after the Your Problem Incident - and you may have turned around and completely avoided even thinking about it, but who’s going to judge you for that, really - when you walk into an extra-credit lecture for one of your science classes to immediately zero in on the familiar grin.

You’d foolishly believed this would be a popular lecture and as such would be held in one of the big lecture halls, the ones that seat 100+ people, but no. Of course not. This was in a regular ass classroom, with regular tables and regular students and regular everything, including the dumbass that regularly stars in every single one of your daydreams. The impulse to turn and run jolts through you, but before you can do exactly that, Nayun is calling your name and waving you over to the seat she saved just for you.

Right in front of him.

Several people turn at her call, but you focus your gaze on the chair and refuse to look to see if he’s looking at you. You refuse, you will not be that girl, you have standards, dammit, and grades to keep up, and immense public humiliation to pretend never happened.

You have to pass him to sit at your chair since Satan himself designed the classroom and put the door at the back of the room, as only a literal demon would do. You focus on not falling flat on your face, as you’ve been prone to do when Jungkook is in your range of vision, and as such you’re wholly unprepared for the way his scent floods through your brain.

You’re able to sit before you collapse entirely, legs shaking because he smells so fucking good. You’ve become accustomed to the boys’ volleyball team, who’re known for always wanting to hang out right after practices but not ever wanting to shower after practices. You’ve been friends with guys before. You are very close with several of the guys on the volleyball team. You’ve been around college dudes for three entire years. You know how guys smell, you know they all tend to get wrapped up in whatever boys think about and neglect their own hygiene unless gently reminded that no, Taehyung, girls do not like it when a guy is sweaty.

Apparently, one dude didn’t get the memo, because Jungkook smells like fucking heaven. Clean linens and summer flowers and rainstorms, with a lingering and faint whisper of chlorine that shoves you into the nostalgia of high school summers at the pool with your friends. It’s glorious and wonderful and you’ve never been close enough to smell him before, which you also never thought would ever go through your brain.

You wish you could say you’ve never thought of how he might smell, you really do. But the truth is you are a girl in love, with an overactive imagination and a lot of time spent not writing essays. You’ve imagined a lot of things. And yet. Even in your wildest daydreams, there is no possible way you ever could have expected it to floor you the way it did.

Nayun is saying something and you’re nodding along, but she could be telling you the secret to life itself and you would never know. You’re too focused on him. You can’t look at him - a blessing and a curse, because now you may be able to pay attention to the lecture, but you’ll also be too distracted to think about anything but if he’s looking at you - but you can hear him. You’ve heard him speak before, you’ve built up somewhat of a resistance to his voice and the way it slides along the air, which is such a sappy romantic thing to think but here you fucking are.

You have not, however, heard him speak for such a long period of time about the continuity errors in Boku No Hero Academia. You don’t even know what the fuck that is, never heard the phrase in your entire life, but he’s so passionate about it that you can’t help but listen. He’s making all sorts of points and giving all kinds of examples and you want to nod along just to encourage him. For all you know he could be wrong about every single instance he mentions but fuck, he just sounds so sure of himself and so absolute that it has you wanting to agree.

The sheer confidence in what he’s saying has you getting weak in the knees. He’s such an absolute fucking weeb, and yet it’s always been so sexy to you when someone knows their shit and can prove it. You could have gone your entire life without knowing that that particular kink extended to fucking anime.

The professor walks in shortly after and you are blessedly saved from more of Jungkook’s rants about anime inconsistencies. You’re impossibly wet and you curse yourself for the millionth time for somehow falling for the biggest dork the planet has possibly ever seen. You focus all of your attention on the lecture, doing your best to take notes even as you find yourself doodling the best (read: atrocious) representations of Jungkook in the margins of your notebook.

You groan on the way out. You’d spent the full hour and a half taking sporadic notes between doodles of Jungkook as a prince. You still couldn’t decide if you were imagining the feeling of someone watching you, either. Nayun just laughs and leads you to the dining hall for dinner before you both had to head to practice.

You are blessedly free of Jungkook for exactly four days. It is, in fact, a new record, since the first time you saw him.

It’s turned your life into a hellscape and you hate it.

You look for him around every corner and past every door, and more than once you’ve caught yourself expecting him to walk through the door at the coffee shop for absolutely no reason. You’ve only ever seen him there the one time. There was literally no reason to expect him to show up ever again, and yet each time someone walked in, you responded as if it was the 1500s and the king himself had entered the building.

If you’re being honest, though, your biggest issue with not seeing Jungkook’s dumb ass for four entire days is that it is just long enough for you to start to expect not to see him. It’s just enough time for you to get so accustomed to not seeing him around that you stop turning corners and looking for him immediately. You don’t immediately think 'this is it’ when the bell above the shop door rings. It takes a second to kick in, a delayed response that is still habit but one on its way out.

You miss him, that is definite. You find yourself wishing that he would show up out of the blue one day, spouting some nonsense, just for the sake of hearing it again. His rants about which Bleach character would actually win a fight because 'well, according to the manga,’ his tirades about how the revamp of Voltron is nowhere near as genuine as the original and is clearly pandering, you just…miss it. You never understand a goddamn thing he’s saying but it’s so fucking attractive. He’s so passionate about all of it and he’s so knowledgeable that even the discussion you overheard in the library about the top ten most powerful moves in the entirety of YuYuHakusho had you dripping and running for your apartment, and you miss that.

At this point, though, you should know the universe fucking hates you.

It’s late, close to 2 am, you haven’t slept in too long because you had an away game that afternoon that you lost on a fucking bullshit call and then had to stay to watch the boys’ team play. They, of course, crushed their opponents, which you were proud of, but it only made your defeat that much more bitter. You were still pissed about it when you rolled into work that night, Rose lagging behind to talk to the coach and Jimin glowing beside you with how well his team had done.

You’re tired, you’re pissed, you’re starving, you have a test in six hours that you haven’t studied for, the cafe is mercilessly dead, there’s a guy in the corner building an actual literal scale model of a castle, and all you can think about is the bullshit ref insisting that the ball touched Jisoo’s elbow after she made contact and completely fucking over the last serve of the game in favor of your opponents.

Jimin, the light of your life and angel among men, had gotten your food before your break. It isn’t fancy, two quick drive-thru burgers with fries and a drink, but it may as well be the nectar of the gods with the way you’re inhaling it. The angel and future father of your immaculate conception babies sits on one of the stools against the counter, chin in his hand as he watches you eat. He looks torn between horror and fascination and you can’t blame him for it. It must be a sight to behold: you, behind the shop counter, elbows planted for maximum efficiency, mouth stuffed full of French fries, ripping viciously into a burger as you continue to go off about the bullshit that was your match that day.

Really, you wouldn’t be this mad any other day. But the combination of so many shitty things - hunger, exhaustion, stress, frustration, not having seen the love of your life Jeon Jungkook in y e a r s - has you absolutely livid. You’re well past the end of your break by now, but Rose knows all too well how you are and is graciously letting you vent until you’re less ready to rip the head off the next person that comes in the door.

You express the sentiment to Jimin, who laughs, the fucker, and fail to realize that someone has, actually, just walked into the coffee shop. You’re halfway through your sentence - “I swear to God, Park, if I see that fucking ref again, I’m gonna rip his balls off and shove them so far up his ass that he starts to digest them, what kind of bullshit even was that, her elbow was nowhere near the ball, that foul never would’ve stood if we had been on our court,” - when it registers that Rose is taking an order. You glance over, out of habit more than anything, and proceed to attempt to inhale the food crammed into your mouth as you gasp.

Of course, of fucking course, Jungkook would show up while you’re like this. Your hair is a mess, still damp from the post-game shower, you’ve got some kind of stain on your shirt from the food that’s absolutely smashed into your mouth, and you’ve just been basically shouting expletives all over your workplace, which he definitely heard. It’s made worse because he’s staring at you, eyes wide behind his stupid round glasses, and his striped shirt with fucking ridiculous overalls. You’re torn between planting one on him since he looks so fucking cute and bewildered, decking him straight in the face because where the fuck has he been, and just bolting straight out of the shop because the guy you’ve liked for two fucking years witnessed all of that and you want to die.

You stare at him and he stares at you, looking as shocked as you feel. Jimin is just looking between the two of you, a shit-eating grin overtaking his face as he starts to connect dots you never ever wanted him to connect, because-

“Jungkook-ah, I didn’t know you came here!” Jimin says, grinning at the younger boy and one of his very best friends. He’s got a glint in his eye that you recognize and you contemplate not for the first time if you could actually impale him with a coffee stirrer.

“Oh, yeah, well…” Jungkook stutters and you hate that it’s so cute. “The others close to my dorm are all really busy at this time of night, y'know, so I like to get coffee on this side of campus so it’s still coffee and not watered down when I get back to my dorm.”

“Why don’t you just drink it here?” Jimin asks as he stirs his own coffee that had long since gone cold, as if he had every right in the world to offer up your coffee shop to a literal God among men. “It’s quiet, you could probably get more work done here than in your dorm. I remember you said your neighbors have been keeping you up.”

Jungkook turns red and looks away. Rose takes the opportunity to slide his iced coffee across to him and he takes it with a smile that makes your heart melt. You watch the exchange with more focus than you probably should, and the food is forgotten in lieu of your future husband right there in front of you for the first time in days.

“I guess I could,” Jungkook eventually says, eyes darting all over. They rest on you every few minutes before quickly flying away, and it makes you even more self-conscious of the stain on your shirt and the way grease has no doubt pooled around your mouth. You grab a napkin to try to clean yourself up as Jungkook continues. “I just don’t know if I could focus here, y'know, there’re a lot of…distractions.”

The silence that follows the statement is deafening, only broken by the quiet huffs of the guy building a castle in the corner.

Jungkook turns even redder and ruffles the back of his hair. It’s impossibly cute and you’re halfway to offering to ruffle it for him, either between his sheets or in the alley out back, when Jimin cuts you off.

“Well, you should consider it, at least. I always have the best times here, even with all the distractions.” Jimin sips at his coffee as he speaks and you get the very distinct sense that he’s teasing Jungkook about something you don’t know. The younger boy just smiles and gives a quick bye to Jimin and Rose. You like to think his smile softens as he looks at you, and the way he says your name as he waves will forever be embedded into your mind.

He’s gone before you can respond and you’re glad, sure you must be at least as red as the strawberry syrup. Jimin whirls on you the second Jungkook is out of sight, Rose doing her best to pretend she isn’t mortified for you.

“I cannot believe that you didn’t tell me - me - that the guy you’ve been pining after all these years is Jungkook.” Jimin sounds scandalized and betrayed and his face just makes you think of- “Top Ten Anime Betrayals, really.”

“Fuck, this is exactly why I didn’t want you to know! I used his codename for a reason.” You whine, dropping your head to the countertop with a resounding thud.

“Oh, yes, because Dumb DumbDook is oh-so-subtle,” Rose mutters. You ignore her.

“I could have been doing wingman work this whole time, though! Imagine how much further along you’d be if I’d been able to hype you up every time I hang out with him. You’d be able to talk to him, five words at least.” You smack Rose when she laughs.

“No, absolutely not. There’s no way it’s gonna happen, Jimin, I can’t set myself up for that failure.” You shake your head and go back to your food, though you’re much less angry after seeing your weeb. “Besides, we’ve got like…nothing in common, what would we even talk about?”

“Are you serious?” The deadpan is what catches your attention, and when you glance up, the look Jimin is giving is scathing. “I’ve heard you gush about his nerd rants, alright, you said yourself you could listen to him talk for weeks without getting bored of hearing his voice.”

“Conversations are a two-way street, Jimin. What the fuck could I contribute to that?”

“Uh…you’re kidding me, right? You didn’t see that face he made while you were doing your whole 'I’m gonna shit talk the ref because he made a call I didn’t like’ thing.”

“It was bullshit and you know it, he never would’ve done that shit for the other side.”

“Point stands, dude. Kook could listen to you go off about your sports shit for just as long as you could with his anime shit. I’d put money on it.”

“You’re delusional, Park, but I’m gonna let you live in this fantasy world because it’s nice to have company here.” He scoffs but doesn’t press the topic, which you’re thankful for. Instead, you fish your study guide out of your bag and hand it to him so he can quiz you about the test you have in four hours.

It seems that Jungkook takes Jimin’s word as law because he starts to show up more and more often. At first, it was just the coffee shop, where he would order his iced black and then leave with a shy smile that had you melting. Then he was at the library at the same time you were, one table over and typing furiously away at his laptop. You assumed it was for a class until he disappeared and returned with a printed copy and you caught the “Neon Genesis Evangelion: A New Order, Chapter Five” at the top.

You won’t lie, you did judge him just a bit for that because you don’t even know anything about the show but no way in hell would you be caught dead printing your fanfic on wireless school computers when cloud hacks are a thing.

He appears at your favorite takeout place, too; not that he saw you since you dove behind a fish tank to avoid getting caught. You’d watched carefully through the water as he waited, looking around in the meantime as if in search of something. He almost looked dejected when he left, though you didn’t know why until you got your food and found out they were out of crab rangoon like you hadn’t just been playing peekaboo with one in the fish tank for twenty minutes.

The thing that really gets you, though, the one that grinds your gears, is how he makes the coffee shop his thing. He just keeps showing up, night after night, and while at first he just left with his coffee, he apparently decided that wasn’t enough, because now he stays. He parks himself at the corner table near the outlet and taps away at his laptop while you try to do any semblance of work. He’s so distracting. He makes the most adorable faces - the brow furrow and slight frown when he’s focused and trying to figure something out, the clenched jaw with tongue in cheek when he’s irritated or frustrated, the cute ass bunny smile that makes you want to jump off a bridge and/or push him off a bridge.

Honestly, if you’re being truthful, you could’ve gotten used to that. He’s quiet and doesn’t talk much and even though you can feel him nearby like a sunflower to the sun, you could’ve managed eventually.

The issue is that his nerd friends start joining him, and they are not quiet. They are loud and argumentative and enjoy debating their dweeb things and they especially enjoy dragging Jungkook into said dweebates, if you will. Which in and of itself is not terrible. You’ve had a literal debate team in here practicing, you’re accustomed to that kind of thing.

No, the issue is that Jungkook is like the king weeb. He seems to know everything about everything complete with sources to back it up and even if he doesn’t know something he can either find out in ten seconds or he can bullshit his way to being right. And it’s so goddamn sexy. He just fucking…owns the other nerds, no matter what the subject is, and he’s so confident and sure and he gets sassy with them when he knows he’s right and they’re wrong. The body language, the expression on his face, the way he just stomps them into the dirt…it gets you hot and bothered every fucking time, and it’s a problem, because you’re at work. It is not socially acceptable to kidnap someone into the break room to fuck their brains out because they just won an argument about whether Yu Gi Oh or Pokemon was a more successful trading card game.

It’s made even even worse because Jungkook has started to pay attention to your rants. Every time you have a game or watch one with the team, you and Rose spend at least part of your shift talking about the ups and downs, what can be improved, what you specifically need to work on and how you can do it. One night the two of you spent upwards of an hour debating whether Lang Ping or Mireya was a better overall player and why, and when you finally stopped to restock the coffee beans, Jungkook was staring at you with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

Of course, that was when you turned and hid in the storage room for the rest of your shift, but the point fucking stands.

Jeon Jungkook is a menace and he is taking over your life and you really should be more mad about it. It almost comes to a head when Jimin drags you to a swim meet, which you have attended exactly zero times in your entire life because who the fuck cares about swim meets.

“Trust me,” He had pleaded. “I want to go to support some friends, but I’m gonna be bored if I have to sit alone on the bleachers.” You’d eventually caved when he promised to buy you food, and now your ass was planted on the most uncomfortable stand seats you’ve ever been on and you were about to pop a blood vessel because Jimin was being so fucking infuriating about everything. He’d pulled you straight from practice, not letting you change or shower or anything, and he’d been trying to goad you into a debate the entire time you’d been waiting for the meet to start. It was legitimately starting to get you riled up, even as you stretched your legs out, thighs spread wide as your fingers massaged the muscles in your familiar post-game routine.

“For the last fucking time, Jimin, no, the Canada/Mexico save was not better than the fucking Italy/France save!” He rolls his eyes, but he opened this can of worms so now he has to suffer with you. “It was flashier, sure, with the sliding and the moving of the barriers, but the Italy/France save was more technically sound and less likely to result in any kind of ref interference. They were both good, sure, but there is no way you can truly believe that the flashier and less technically sound and less safe of the two is actually better.”

“Oh, your boyfriend’s waving,” Jimin says as he smiles and waves, eyes turning into crescents as he does.

“What? I don’t have a-” You stop when you look. You really should have expected this because life is a cruel mistress and the universe itself is even crueler, but here you were. Rendered speechless by the sight of Jungkook. In swim pants. Shirtless.

“You’re drooling,” Jimin comments dryly.

“Fuck off, it’s not my fault he’s sculpted by the gods.” You don’t even bother to look at Jimin, too focused on the way Jungkook’s back flexes as he pulls himself out of the water. Time legitimately slows, water falling off of him and trailing down abs you did not know were there, and your heart honest to God stops beating. “What the fuck is he even doing here?”

“He’s on the swim team,” Jimin smirks and calls Jungkook over before you can shove your hand over his mouth. “Kook-ah, good luck! You’re gonna do great!”

“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook says with an excited grin as he jogs over. You don’t think you take a single breath in the five minutes they chat. Your chest may actually explode, and you’re tempted to dive into the pool not two feet away to cool off. Jungkook steps back like he’s going to leave, giving you a small smile as he does.

“Wait, Jungkook, remind me, how did you get into swimming? Someone was curious,” Jimin nods ever so subtly to you but you can’t even find the strength to be upset because Jungkook’s chest is right there and you want to run your tongue along his muscles.

“Oh, there’s actually this anime called Free! I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, it’s really good, but it’s about these swimmers. They complete and a lot of it is them learning how to get better at their techniques so I thought, 'well, that can’t be that hard can it?’“ You let out a quiet sob. He’s just…you clench your fist in your lap and sigh. He’s just such a fucking nerd. Jungkook shoots you a somewhat worried look but continues. “It’s how I learned archery and boxing, too. I saw them in manga and got really interested and figured if the characters can do it, why can’t I?”

“God, that’s so fucking nerdy,” You mutter. It doesn’t register that you spoke out loud until you see Jungkook’s reddening face and hear Jimin’s soft choke. “In a good way! I mean, I think it’s…it’s really awesome that you just saw it and did it, that’s really…” Don’t say sexy. “…cool.”

Jungkook stares at you, cheeks reddened, and you struggle not to start digging your own grave here and now in the middle of this indoor pool area. You’re about to stand and do exactly that when Jungkook’s face brightens and his nose crinkles and the most blinding grin you’ve ever seen in your life takes over his face as his shoulders bunch up. Your eyes are probably actual fucking hearts now, it’s easily the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen on a human male as tall and buff as he is, and it kind of makes you want to shove him in the pool.

You really don’t have to, though, because he just shakes his head and turns to go back to the swimmer’s benches or whatever they’re called in swimming. He’s ruffling the back of his hair again and watching the ground, but he keeps turning back to beam at you and Jimin. You see it before Jimin does, and both of you start to call for him when his heel slips and he falls completely back into the water.

Every face in the area turns to look at where Jungkook is surfacing, wiping his face and slicking his hair back out of his face. The sight of it nearly sends you into heart palpitations because you honestly didn’t think he could get more fucking attractive but you were wrong. You force yourself to calm down because Jimin is too busy rolling on the ground beside you to be of any use in resuscitating you if your heart actually gave out.

“Ah, nani,” You hear Jungkook mutter as he climbs out of the pool and you wish you had a brick to hit yourself with because of course, of fucking course, he looks so fucking good and is so fucking bone-meltingly hot and still says weeb shit like ‘ah, nani’ when he falls into a goddamn pool.

You’re honestly legitimately fucked and the fact that you don’t even care anymore says a lot more about you than you want it to.

It all actually comes to a head nearly a week after the swim meet. The sight of a wet and dripping and half-naked Jungkook doesn’t leave your mind, forever burned into your retinas, but even more wonderful is the shy, bashful Jungkook that greets you the next day at the coffee shop. It’s almost like he thinks you’re going to tease him, as if he didn’t see you shoving your whole mouth full of junk while cursing out a ref, as if he didn’t fully hear you tell him ‘your problem!’ with a happy grin and death in your eyes the first time he came into the shop.

It’s just…it’s so fucking cute that you physically cannot contain it anymore, and you find yourself bemoaning your state of perpetual adoration with Jisoo and Rose while you all shower after the latest match.

“I’m just going to suffer for the rest of my life aren’t I?” You say, speaking louder than you typically would in order to be heard over the several showerheads currently running. “It’s too much for my heart to take, absolutely too much, he’s too fucking…ugh, clenches fist, he’s too fucking cute.”

“Did you just verbalize the ‘clenches fist’ meme?” Rose shoots from her own stall. You shoot a face at the wall separating you, not that she can see it. “Listen, you know how I feel about this. You need to make a move because that boy never will. He’s a mess.”

“Wow, who else do we know that’s also a mess at all times for the guy they’ve liked for years?” Jisoo comments from her own shower across the way. You groan and kick your stall door, which only results in a muffled curse and you cradling your toe as you balance precariously on one foot.

“Do not injure yourself, we have a tournament next weekend,” Rose says offhandedly. You huff.

“Why would I even make a move? He’s got…Hatsune Miku and anime girls and shit.”

“Oh, of course,” Rose says. “I forgot, every guy would willingly give up a gorgeous, real-life girl willing to fuck him senseless for a pretty cartoon. Silly me.”

“What I don’t get,” Nayun calls from the locker room proper. “Is why you think he isn’t interested. He gets a chub every time he so much as looks at you, and don’t think Jimin didn’t tell me about the swim meet. The boy fell into a pool.”

“Yeah, because he’s a goddamn idiot.” You shake your head and wash the conditioner from your hair.

“What if we dare you to do it?” Rose’s voice echoes from too close. You turn and see her silhouette against the plastic shower curtain. She takes your confused silence as permission to continue. “Seriously, if we dare you to ask him out, will you?”

“What the fuck,” You say, sticking your head out of the curtain to level a glare at her. “I’m not ten years old, why the fuck would I do something just because you dare me to?”

“Bet, then,” Jisoo says as she wraps her hair in a towel. Your eyes must be wide as saucers because she laughs. “Bet on it. If the boys lose this game, you have to ask him out.”

“No no,” Rose says, and a familiar and all-too-dangerous grin spreads on her face. “If the boys lose this game, you have to confess. Do the gift and the letter and the whole fucking anime thing for him. If they win, we’ll drop it, and listen to your moaning and groaning for the rest of forever without complaint or comment.” Jisoo and Nayun look much too excited at the prospect, but you’ve been watching the boys play all season.

“What kind of bet is that? The boys haven’t lost a game all season.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?” Rose says, grinning as she saunters over to put her street clothes on. “Five minutes before game start.” You curse and rush to finish your shower, determined not to run laps for being late again.

As fate would have it, you do have reason to worry, because apparently, the rival university recruited some fucking professional athlete super mutants or some shit. It’s a close game, the boys only losing by one, but with the level of skill they’ve been playing with all season, it should’ve been an easy win.

And yet.

You’re standing outside the boys’ locker room, waiting patiently for Jimin. It’s a routine you got into when you first met, just after you’d both joined the respective teams. He would wait for you and you would wait for him, as long as it took, especially after a loss. You’re still in shock, still reeling from the game itself. You would almost think Jimin had found out about the bet and thrown the game, just to get you to shut the fuck up about Jungkook, if you didn’t know him.

If you didn’t see the dedication he put into the game, the perfection he expected of himself and his team. It rivals even Rose’s, and you can hear him yelling from where you stand, slamming what is probably his fist into a locker several times before he falls silent. As much as you had riding on this game, as pissed as you are that you lost the bet, you know it’s minuscule in comparison to the way Jimin feels, and you can’t even summon up enough energy to fool yourself otherwise. You’ve known him too long.

When he finally does emerge, you help wrap his knuckles with a clean bandage and ruffle his hair. “It’ll be alright, Park,” You tell him, quiet. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you sling your arm around his shoulder to lead him to your car. He’s quiet the rest of the night, even as you eat shitty fast food burgers in your car, even as he sits at the counter at the coffee shop, textbook open in front of him but not reading it.

“So I bet the girls that I would do an anime confession for Jungkook if you lost, you wanna help me plan it?” You ask him towards the end of your shift, long after said dork is gone from the shop. It’s the only time you see Jimin smile all night, but it’s worth it for the way his eyes crinkle and he starts outlining ideas.

“Did you even sleep last night?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Jimin responds as he chugs the rest of his coffee. Calling it coffee is generous, if you’re honest because it smells like he put twenty espresso shots in a cup and added some sugar. You force back a gag and shudder at the thought. “Everything’s in place?”

“This isn’t a bank heist, Jimin, I’m giving him a fucking box and a letter.” Even behind sunglasses you can tell the look he’s giving you is withering. “Whatever, yes, everything’s in place.”

“Good. Target sighted. Commence mission.”

You huff, grumbling as you move forward to the door. Of the cafe. Where you work. Where Jungkook is sitting, surrounded by his dork friends and heatedly arguing about something you no doubt have no clue about. Looking absolutely delectable, despite just being in a regular ass fucking jacket and a beanie that almost matches his skin and his hair looks so soft that you want to rub your face in it and also maybe bury your fingers in it while he’s between your legs.

You open the door and are immediately hit with the sound of Rose choking on her drink, the sudden conversation about which dps character is better - what the fuck that means, you don’t know - screeching to a halt, and every single person in the shop staring at you. Which is only like three people that aren’t Rose, Jungkook, Jimin, or the six people around Jungkook, but still. You force yourself not to throw up and move, cursing the itchy and uncomfortable dress the entire way.

Really, it was Jimin’s fault. You’d been brainstorming ways to confess and how to make it so perfectly Jungkook that he at least had to respond. He’d been the one to suggest dressing up as Hatsune Miku, which you, of course, nixed immediately. You weren’t about to spend who knows how much on a fucking wig and costume of one of the most popular cartoon characters of the modern age, not when you were only going to use it one fucking time.

So here you fucking are, dressed up like god damn Haruhi Fujioka, in an itchy yellow dress that doesn’t move where it should and feels like fucking sandpaper against your skin, that Jimin just happened to have on hand, like that wasn’t super fucking weird, and now everyone at your place of employment is staring at you and the small white box in your hands with a little pink envelope on top of it and you can hear Rose’s muffled laughter as you step further into the shop.

You stare at the ground as you walk, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before you’re staring down at Jungkook’s Timbs. You take a deep breath, and then another, and then another before you look up. He’s openly gawking, jaw nearly on the floor as he looks you up and down. Not a single soul is making a noise in the shop, so your voice rings out loud clear as you say–

“My chest hurts when I think about this person. When this person is happy, I am happy. When he smiles, I feel like crying. I distinguish his voice better than other people’s. I think this person is respectable. I want to become this person’s strength. I have scored more than 80 points, and it’s official. I-” You stop, cursing the fact that you’re doing this at three in the fucking morning on your day off in your workplace all because of a fucking bet and the fact that you couldn’t shut up about Jungkook’s stupid fucking face for more than two minutes without being in danger of combustion. “I like him, and I hope that he feels the same.”

You shove the white box into his hands and turn on your heel. Without looking back, you march out the door, grabbing Jimin on the way even as Jungkook calls after you. You keep going, walking quicker than you ever have to get to your apartment as fast as possible. Jimin just laughs as he follows you.

“I can’t believe you actually did it, holy shit. I hope he likes the chocolates, you worked really hard on them.”

“This is going to end up on the internet, I just know it, and I’m stating right now that this was not how I ever wanted to fucking tell him.” Jimin laughs again and hands you the coffee Rose had made you. When you finally make it back to your apartment, he helps you take the dress off and gets the pint of ice cream out of the freezer so you can wallow in peace.

“You don’t even know what he’s going to say,” Jimin protests, though he heaps his own spoon with ice cream in the process.

“I walked up to him in a jank cosplay of a shojo manga character and confessed my fucking love for him, Jimin.” He balks at the look you give him. “I don’t care how much of an otaku he is, he’s gonna think I’m fucking weird.”

“Well, don’t count yourself out just yet, alright?” Jimin ruffles your hair and you swat at him. “You never know. Maybe he’s really into Ouran and you just don’t know it.” You groan and bury your face in a pillow in an attempt to smother yourself. It doesn’t work.

It still hasn’t worked the next day when you wake up around noon to find Jimin gone and your dishes done for you. You grumble about it since you had every intention of doing your own dishes, but you send him a quick ‘thanks for washing my grime bitch’ because no matter how capable you are, you never want to do them.

It’s later that night when you’re fresh out of the shower and getting ready to head to your practice except for the fact that you can’t find your fucking keys that there’s a knock on your door. You open it without looking and dive back into the couch, bent nearly in half while you dig through the cushions. “Hey, Nayun, I’m almost ready, I just have to find my keys. I think Jimin threw them somewhere last night, after that fucking debacle at the shop-” A choked noise that definitely does not sound like Nayun reaches your eyes and you bolt upright, eyes wide.

Jungkook stands in the doorway to your apartment, wide eyes darting up from where he most definitely was staring at your ass and his face bright red. “Jimin gave me your address. Um…can we talk?”

You really want to say no. You want to tell him that no, you can’t, because you have volleyball practice, as he can tell from your uniform, and you absolutely cannot be late because Rose will literally use your entrails to make a new net.

Instead what comes out is, “Sure!”

You wave him in and close the door behind him, shooting off a quick text to Rose to let her know you might be late or may not show up at all, you’re not really sure because motherfucking Jeon Jungkook just showed up at your door. All you get back is a string of the cry-laughing emojis, and you curse whatever deity decided she should walk this earth with mortals.

“So,” Jungkook says. It’s long and drawn out, like he doesn’t really know where to go from here, but you’re distracted because he looks so good. Matching grey hoodie and sweats that are just the right side of baggy, standard Timbs, hair pushed to the side slightly to show off a bit of forehead. God, what is the world coming to that you’re this worked up over some fucking forehead?

“So,” You echo.

“Did you mean those things you said yesterday?” You hesitate and he takes it as an answer in itself. “Listen, I…I get it, y’know? You’re this super cool volleyball star, and I’m a big nerd who swims, haha, let’s tease the kid about his crush, but…it didn’t really seem like you were teasing. And now I’m confused because I can’t tell if you actually meant any of that or if you were just…dared to do it.”

“I was. Kind of. It was a bet, actually.” Jungkook’s face falls and you wince. “No, not like that, it wasn’t. Fuck, okay, it wasn’t a mean bet. I made a bet with the girls on the team that if the boys lost their game, then I would confess my feelings to you in some big dramatic anime way, like all that shit you like, right, and then the boys actually lost their game, so I had to do it, and then, wait.” Your brain catches up. “Did you say you have a crush on me?”

Jungkook’s face is still slightly pink, but he’s got the most tentative bunny smile on and he looks so unbearably fond that your heart is breaking. “I did,” He says softly. “So you really have feelings for me?”

“I’ve been in love with you for more than two years,” You blurt. You immediately want to take it back, want to suck the words back in before they can escape and embarrass you further, but it’s too late. “I mean…I was an orientation leader with Jimin right before my second year and you were in his group, and I saw you talking to some people and you were just really super cute and you have a really nice smile and I was kind of hooked and then later that year we were both at the dining hall and I was sitting near you and this guy said something about some anime and you were all, ‘really, because if you’d bothered to watch the show then you’d know blah blah blah’ and it was the single hottest anime takedown I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook is silent through your babble, though his smile just grows and he fluffs the back of his hair. He looks around your apartment briefly, like he’s looking for words, and he’s got the prettiest flush on his face and you want to kiss it but he hasn’t said anything.

“I went to your first volleyball match that year, and you spiked a ball into a girl’s face,” He admits. You remember that match, mostly because- “And then you argued with the ref for almost ten minutes about whether or not you deserved a penalty for it because technically she was the one that tried to hit the ball with her face, you hadn’t tried to hit her in the face. I’ve never been so turned on by sports in my entire life.”

“I once spat water out my nose because you said hi to me in the dining hall.”

“I fell into that pool because you looked really fucking hot in your uniform and I couldn’t process the fact that you thought my anime shit was cool.”

“I want to lick your abs.”

He stops at that, and for a second, for a single second you think maybe you went too far, but then he’s glancing around at the apartment as if he’s actually looking for something now. “Is there anyone else here?” He eventually asks. You can’t even finish shaking your head before he’s on you, pressing his mouth to yours in a feverish kiss.

You want to say that it was soft and sweet and gentle at first, but it wasn’t, at all. The two of you had too much pent up sexual frustration for that. Instead, his lips move against yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect, and his hand on the back of your neck is unforgiving as he tilts your jaw to get deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, Kook,” You moan, hands already roaming along his sweatshirt. “Please take it off, I’m begging you.” He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling against your lips and it sends a wave of arousal crashing through you even as he strips his hoodie off to reveal nothing underneath. You feast your eyes on the muscles he keeps hidden away, hands hesitating as they start to run along the skin. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, seems to actually bask in it, and he chuckles again as he lets his hands fall to your hips.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” He whispers in your ear, and you find yourself shaking at the way it feels. Erotic and sensual and hot as fuck, you want to return the favor, but you find yourself at a loss.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” You ask, pushing against his chest and walking back with him until his knees hit the couch. “Do you know how often I’ve thought of this?” You push again and he falls back onto it, hands coming to grip your thighs as you straddle him, and you make sure to grind your hips against his as you move to whisper into his ear. “How often I’ve touched myself thinking of you?”

Jungkook moans, and you want to etch the sound into your fucking skin, it’s absolutely glorious. He says your name like it’s a curse and you’ve never wanted someone more. You grind yourself against the stiffness you can feel through his sweats, your own volleyball shorts leaving little to the imagination. You’re absolutely soaked, and you know it’s going to be a bitch to wash but you could not give less of a fuck right now.

He rolls his hips up to meet yours and it’s your turn to moan, hands coming up to brace on his shoulders as your tongue slides along his neck and down to his throat. His breath hitches when you graze the skin there with your teeth, so you repeat the action. His hands tighten at your hips and slide to palm your ass; you never thought a guy’s hand on your ass would feel as good as it does, but you also never thought you’d be making out with Jeon Jungkook on your couch instead of going to practice.

“Fuck, Kook,” You moan into his mouth as he slides his right hand up your shirt to cup your breast. It’s more difficult than it usually would be, as you wear your sports bras to practice, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. “Need you.”

“Don’t wanna fuck you on your couch yet,” He replies between the slide of his tongue against yours. “Your room, wanna make you come in your bed first.” Your legs tremble at the thought and you push yourself up. It’s hard to stand, your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook doesn’t even seem to notice it as you turn. His chest is pressed against your back immediately, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other gropes your ass. His mouth is harsh on your neck and you can feel the bruises forming but at this point, you don’t even care.

You press yourself into him, and you can feel him. He curves, you can already tell; the heat radiating from the hardness pressed into the swell of your ass is delicious, and another wave of wetness seeps into your shorts as you think about what it’s gonna be like with him inside.

“You have no idea what these shorts do to me,” He whispers, nipping at the skin of your neck one last time before he slaps your ass - hard. You yelp, more in surprise than anything, but before you can say anything he’s pushing at your hips to force you through the apartment.

You’ve only made it to your bed faster once before this, when you thought you were being chased by an ax murderer that turned out to be a coat rack.

Jungkook isn’t gentle when you get to your room. He doesn’t even pause, just flips you around and shoves you onto the bed. It shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, and you’re quivering a little because of it. He slides between your legs, hands running slowly up your thighs, and it seems that now he’s decided to take his time.

His touch is feather-light against your skin. You can barely feel his hands as they slide up your thighs and over your hips, around your waist, and between your breasts, but you can’t ever deny where they are. You’re hyperaware of him, and the smirk on his face tells you that he knows it. The competitive side of you, the one that makes you so fucking vicious during games, swells; he needs to know you’re not one to take it lying down, and he needs to know now.

Your legs move up around his waist and you push, using all your weight to flip the two of you so he straddles you once more. He’s rock solid against your ass and you grind back into it. His hands slide along your waist again and he pouts a little.

“Wanted to taste you,” He whines, fingers dipping just below the waistband of your shorts. You hook your thumbs in alongside his and pull, letting the material slide down just enough to tease.

“So do it,” You tell him. He looks confused for a second before recognition washes over him. His dick twitches behind you, but you pay it no mind. You rise up enough to slide your shorts off, a true feat of excellence considering how tight they are, and when you settle back down on your knees, his tongue runs across your slit. You gasp at the feeling and he takes this as permission to continue.

Whatever you expected him to be like in bed, every sexual fantasy you’ve ever had about him, none could ever live up to the reality of Jungkook’s tongue sliding between your folds to flick your clit. You moan, nails digging into your thighs.

“You like that, princess?” He asks, muffled by your thighs and pussy. You nod before realizing that he may not be able to see you.

“Yes, I do,” You tell him, and your nails dig in harder when he flicks it again. He continues, tongue darting out to tease you but not giving you enough to get you where you want to go. You growl, and he laughs.

“Maybe you should be kitten instead if you’re going to growl at me.” You shudder at the name, and when you look down with red cheeks, he has one brow raised. “Really? Kitten?”

“Shut up, I know you have a Hatsune Miku body pillow,” You tell him. He looks ready to protest but you lower yourself so his lips brush your folds. He takes the hint, thankfully, and lets his hands curl up to grip your hips. “Put that fucking mouth to work, Jungkook, or so help me-” You’re cut off by an unexpected moan. He slides his tongue along you once more, from clit to hole, and you whimper.

You can literally feel the smirk against your pussy and you rock down onto him. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit and back down to your hole. You grind your hips down into his mouth, desperate for more friction, and you feel soft breaths against you as he chuckles. You whine and he takes pity, angling himself better before sliding his tongue tantalizingly slow into you. You clench around him and are left unsatisfied. As wonderful and skilled as it is, it’s not nearly big enough to do what you need it to. Still, it feels damn good as he thrusts it in and out of you, good enough that when he starts to pull away, your hands dart down and tangle in his hair to keep him right where he is. You can feel your orgasm coming, it’s so close you can taste it, and when he slides a finger over your clit, you break.

Your hips stutter in their rhythm and you slide yourself to the side so he can breathe properly once more. He’s got a grin on his face and looks entirely too pleased with himself. He moves to lay between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your torso and thighs with every breath, and the fondness in your chest swells.

You can see him straining his sweats, it has to hurt, and yet here he is, showering you with kisses and sweet nothings instead of immediately trying to get off himself. What a refreshing change of pace.

“Thank you,” He mutters with a laugh, and you realize you’d been talking out loud. “I do really, really want to fuck you, though.” He trails kisses up your neck to your ear and you shiver. “Would you like that, kitten?” You whine and arousal courses through you once more. He trails kisses back down and unsnaps your bra; you would have to remember to thank Jisoo for suggesting you get a clasped sports bra, because it’s never been helpful before but thank God you don’t have to try to peel yourself out of a regular one now.

Jungkook presses his lips against your nipple lightly, fingers ghosting over the other to stiffen it. “You didn’t answer me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to slide into that pretty pussy?” You whimper, doing your damndest to pull him far enough that you can grind against something that isn’t air, but he holds his body just far enough away that you can’t. He gives your nipple little kitten licks, his saliva making the air that much colder and your nipples that much harder.

“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” He mutters as he lets his free hand rest on your thigh, thumb swiping lazily over your hipbone. “Can you feel it? Because I can, even from here. You’re absolutely soaked, I could probably just slide right in. Do you want that, kitten? You want me to pound that little pussy of yours until you can’t walk straight?”

“Fuck, Kook, please,” You moan. Your hands slide along his body, looking for any kind of purchase and finding none. He’s enjoying himself too much, and you’re too desperate right now to do anything about it. “Please, Kook, please fuck me already. I swear to god, I’m gonna send your fucking Evangelion fanfic to your professors if you don’t get in me soon.”

“How do you even know about that?” He asks, momentarily stunned out of character. You give him a satisfied grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You lift your hips off the bed completely, letting them brush lightly against him. He stifles a moan and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, your entire body shivers with delight; he’s still that dumbass weeb but fuck, he looks like he’s going to absolutely wreck you.

“I’m gonna fuck this slut pussy of yours until you’re gushing, you hear me, kitten?” He says, kicking his sweats off. You don’t even get a chance to appreciate the sight of his dick before he’s lining up with your hole, the tip brushing against your clit in the process and making you moan. “I’m gonna fucking pound your pussy until it’s so fucking full you can’t remember your own name, let alone random shit about me. You’re gonna be begging for my cock, all day every day.”

“Fuck, Kook, yes, please, I want that,” You grind your hips up again and he moves, sliding inside of you in one easy movement. The stretch burns at first; he’s fucking huge, and he does curve, and it presses against every inch of you in such a phenomenal way that you never want him to stop. Your eyes must have rolled back in your head because when you open them, Jungkook has one hand stroking your cheek as the other supports his weight.

“Are you good?” He asks, soft and gentle. You nod, rolling your hips in a quick circle to let him know how good. He lets out another groan, soft and muffled, as if he’s containing himself. “You’ll let me know if you need me to stop?” You nod again. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so good for me.”

He starts to move then, dick dragging against your walls as he pulls back out slowly before slamming back in. Your moan echoes through the apartment, but all you hear is the soft call of your name from his lips as he repeats the motion. You raise your hips to meet his thrusts and it only takes a couple of minutes before you’re both panting. Your legs lock around his hips to bring him in deeper and he moans at the contact. He sits back on his knees and brings you up with him.

You’ve wanted to ride his dick for years, and it’s so much better than you ever thought. Every drag of his cock has you clenching, every thrust with this new angle has him hitting your g-spot and you’re seeing stars. He’s got one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady and the other on the back of your neck so he can bring you in close and kiss you deeply, whispering sweet nothings in your ear when he has to breathe.

The two of you move in tandem, hips gyrating against each other’s as you chase that high together. Having him inside of you feels like heaven and you never want it to stop. He starts to pull out and you shake your head, slamming your hips down onto his with renewed vigor.

“Gonna cum,” He huffs, and you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good,” You tell him. His grip on you tightens and he slams into you harder. “Fucking cum inside me, Kook, please.” He moans, loud and unashamed, as he hits deeper inside of you with more force than you expect. You’re bouncing on his dick now, there’s no other word for it, and you fucking love it.

“Fuck, kitten, gonna fill you up so good,” He mutters. You nod, feeling the pressure inside of you tighten. “Gonna paint you with it gonna cover your pussy with my cum, want you to feel me inside you for days. Fuck, take it, kitten, take my cum inside, all of it, don’t let a single drop fall out.” He slams into you, again and again and again. Your throat is raw from the screams, you’re pretty sure he has scratch marks on his back, but you can’t bring yourself to care because, fuck, he feels so good.

He slams into your g-spot again, at the same time he kisses you deep and moves his hand to rub against your clit, and your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. You can’t even say anything, moans swallowed up by Jungkook’s mouth, but he knows by the way you clench and spasm around his cock, you can tell, because it only takes a few more shallow thrusts and he’s over that edge with you. You can feel his hot seed settling inside, spreading to fill you completely.

He lays you back on your bed, gentle, and slides out. His cum starts to seep out of you, you can feel it on your thighs, and when you open your eyes, he’s staring at the sight.

“Is this…something to be worried about?” He eventually asks. You shake your head and tap your bicep.

“Implant,” You tell him. “We’re good.” He nods and leans forward, and you feel his finger slide up your slit once more, gathering all of his cum before he pushes it back inside of you. When he’s satisfied that you’re as full as can be, he lays down next to you and tugs you into a lazy embrace. You take his hand and lick it clean, surprised at the fresh wave of arousal that hits despite your exhaustion. He smiles, cute and bunny-like, with the nose scrunch and everything, and you let yourself get lost in it.

He traces invisible shapes on your skin with his hands, all over your thighs and belly and arms and chest, and it’s an intimacy you’ve never had before. You watch him, eyes following each curve he makes, and trying to figure out what he’s drawing.

“It’s not Hatsune Miku,” He eventually says. You raise your brows at him and he grins. “I don’t have a Hatsune Miku body pillow.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. “Well, then, I’m sorry I misjudged you.”

“It’s Nami from One Piece,” He admits. You roll your eyes and grab a pillow to smack him.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.”

“I disagree.”

“What do you mean, you disagree?”

“I’ve got you, don’t I?”

The blush on your face gives you away even as you suppress the smile, but Jungkook lets you pretend, content to continue drawing on you with his fingertips. It’s the first time you’ve felt content and at peace in two years, and - you can’t believe you’re about to think this - you’re glad you put on that fucking cosplay.

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seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years

Text

The Last Slide: Ch. 2

@feeisamarshmallow here is the second chapter ♥

Read on ao3

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Chapters: 1 2 3 4

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The smell of chlorine hit Jake’s nose as soon as he stepped through the front door of the Tropic Thunder Aqua Park. Following Amy to the information desk, he envied the little groups of people striding past him to the ticket window, bags slung over their shoulders, inflatable crocodiles and donuts and flamingos under their arms. Once this case was closed, he needed to find a free day for Amy, Mac and him to come back here. Or maybe to a different water park, one with less murder history.

Amy greeted the teenager behind the desk, flashing her badge and ID. The boy’s brows scrunched in momentary confusion, then he paled a few subtle shades. But when Amy mentioned his boss calling because of the case, his shoulders relaxed. Jake wondered if the boy had done something to assume they were here because of him, or if he was just nervous. The name tag on his orange t-shirt read Julius.

He picked up a desk phone and pressed a few buttons, relaying the information of their arrival. Then he fumbled with his hands and bounced on his heels. “Can I get you anything? A water? Dolphin-shaped cookies?”

Jake opened his mouth to ask for those, but Amy spoke before he could.

“No, thank you, Julius.” She offered him a sympathetic smile. “It must feel awful to be working right now.” The boy nodded, relaxing further and dropping down into his chair.

“It’s weird,” he admitted. “When I came to start my shift, there were crime techs everywhere. And they wheeled out a gurney with a black body bag. I thought this only happened on TV.” He shuddered, glancing off into his memories.

“Did you notice anything unusual lately, Julius?” While still smiling motherly, her tone was ever-professional. The kid was easy to trust her. A wave of pride welled up inside Jake. This was his wife.

Julius shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, Francesca said she saw the dead guy argue with Darius last week, but she also believes in yetis, so.”

“Who’s Francesca and Darius?” Jake asked.

“Francesca Roberts and Darius are lifeguards; they work here as pool attendants. I don’t know Darius’ last name, I’m sorry.”

“Did Francesca hear what the argument was about?”

Julius shook his head as behind him, a door opened and a tall middle-aged man with sandy hair and the body of a swimmer stepped through. He wore the same white shorts as Julius but his shirt was baby-blue, without a name tag.

With a polite smile, he reached out his hand over the desk. “Sam Kirkwell, I’m the head of Tropic Thunder. I spoke to your colleague on the phone this morning.”

Amy shook his hand. “Lieutenant Santiago of the 99th precinct, this is Detective Peralta. Is there anywhere we can talk more privately?”

“Of course.” Kirkwell waved them behind the desk and through the door he had just entered through. They walked through a small break room, then down a narrow, cream-painted hallway and into an office. Kirkwell sat behind the desk and gestured at the chairs on the other side, waiting for them to sit before leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk.

“Now how can I help you?”

They went over the details of the case, Amy taking notes rigorously while Jake painted a picture in his imagination, forming the scene, adding everything he’d already read in the file and everything Kirkwell told them. So far, the details added up.

The water park had opened at 9 in the morning. At 9:53, a man – Lars Pearson, 43 years old, Caucasian, warehouse worker – came out of the Disco, a popular water slide, with a poisoned dart in his neck. The first cops on the scene assumed he was hit before going down the slide, but security footage showed him happy, healthy, alive at the top. In the middle of the ride, he came through the funnel, but with the disco lights dancing around and no extra light source, the camera in there didn’t show enough to see the dart. No one followed him down in immediate succession, the next person started the ride once the victim had already been at the end.

Everyone leaving the water park since then had left their contact information. Witnesses could only describe that nothing had been out of the ordinary when Pearson had waited in line for the slide. Nobody had seen anyone with a blowpipe or dart gun. Pool attendants as well as camera footage didn’t deliver them any more information, either.

The victim had no family except for a bedridden father and a brother. Had come to the water park with two co-workers who could also not report anything unusual. No fingerprints had been found on the dart.

“I reopened the park, including the slide, about an hour ago,” Kirkwell continued. “Your people were already gone and the officers said there was no more evidence that had to be saved.”

Jake and Amy both huffed in annoyance. It was one thing to move the body if it otherwise floated around the pool. Any possible evidence left in the water slide, however, they could forget. Kirkwell didn’t seem to have thought that far ahead and whoever had given him clearance to reopen hadn’t either. But they would go and see what they could make of it.

“One more thing,” Jake said when Kirkwell was about to show them the slide, “Julius mentioned two pool attendants we’d like to talk to. Francesca Roberts and another one named Darius.”

“Darius Erickson, yes.” Kirkwell looked at his watch. “Francesca should still be around here somewhere and Darius is about to end his shift in a few minutes. I’ll have them wait in here.”

“Actually,” Amy held up a hand, “we’d like to see them before we inspect the slide.”

That didn’t seem to fit into Kirkwell’s plans, but he schooled his expression into a polite smile and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Amy groaned. “How careless can you be?!” she grumbled. “Now we’ll have to investigate in-between a horde of civilians!”

Jake smirked. “You mean we’ll have to ride the slide to search for clues?”

“Seems like it.” She sighed in defeat but Jake was having none of it.

“Admit it, you want to. Otherwise, you’d just order Kirkwell to close the place until we’re done with the investigation.”

“We don’t even have our swimming gear and– You packed it, didn’t you.” He didn’t have to say anything, the grin on his face confirmed her assumption.

The door opened again a few minutes later and Kirkwell pushed a man and a woman inside. Before he could close the door behind himself, Amy turned to him. “We’d like to speak to them alone, please. Mr. Erickson, if you could also please wait outside while we talk to Ms. Roberts.”

“This is stupid, I already talked to the cops this morning, my shift is over! I want to leave, right now,” Erickson ranted but Jake just sternly gestured at the door. It was something he’d practiced a lot on Mac whenever he’d come out of his room before his tantrum-induced time-out had ended. Erickson reacted similarly while leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Ms. Roberts, please sit,” Amy told the woman. She looked in her mid-fifties, had bleached hair with a gray hairline and her orange t-shirt looked a size too small. “We’ve been told you witnessed an argument between Mr. Erickson and Mr. Pearson last week. Can you tell us more about that?”

Roberts shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. When I left the building last Thursday after my shift, I saw Darius in a heated conversation with someone. I didn’t care because he’s been moody ever since his wife left him a few months ago. I only remembered about it when I saw the body…” She gulped. “It was the guy Darius argued with, I’m sure.”

Darius Erickson confirmed that not much later. “Fine, yes. I knew Lars. That son of a bitch is the reason my wife left me.” He was sitting on the edge of his seat, arms crossed in front of him. The light from the ceiling was shining on his balding head and the crease between his brows was thicker than Terry’s biceps. (So to speak. Jake wouldn’t want anyone to actually hold him to that.)

“I know what you’re thinking,” Erickson continued, “but I already told your colleagues this morning, I didn’t do it! I was late to work, my car’s in the shop, my brother drove me. When I arrived, cops were already here.”

Amy neatly wrote everything down on her notepad. “We’ll need your brother’s contact information, Mr. Erickson.” The man threw his arms up in the air with a huff. “We need to check your alibi in order to drop you as a suspect. We ask you to not leave the city and to be ready for more questions.”

For now, they couldn’t actually bring him in for anything yet. Jake hoped they didn’t need to. Not just because that would solve and end the case way too soon, but also because Erickson would be out and about as long as they didn’t have actual evidence to link him to anything.

After the pool attendant had left, Jake relayed the information to Charles, and by the time they were following Kirkwell through the water park, barefoot and pant legs rolled up, Erickson’s alibi had checked out.

The air inside was warm and humid, tropical, with no breeze to provide a little cooling. Kirkwell showed them where the body was found. The Disco slide ended into a small pool area which in turn was connected to a large non-swimmer’s pool. If the body had been left in here, it really would have been floating around the park by now.

People were coming out of the tube and splashing into the tiny pool every thirty seconds or so. The chlorine in the water should have tainted every bit of evidence so far. And since the murder must have happened somewhere between Pearson’s start and end of the slide ride, Jake absolutely saw no other way than to don swim trunks and bikini and start the investigation. For the sake of work.

Amy grumbled a bit about feeling unprofessional in her own bikini while at a crime scene, but Jake could tell she was looking forward to this. She’d been way too overworked lately. And even though they were basically going to enjoy themselves at the water park, they were still going to do their jobs. It was a win-win situation.

The first three rides, though, brought no new revelations.

(That’s probably because Jake didn’t exactly go to great effort. Amy said she wanted to first get a feel for the slide so she could concentrate on the important things. So same thing, basically.)

(She couldn’t fool him.)

The slide wasn’t bustling with people anymore, so a race up the stairs to the top – so they wouldn’t lose precious investigating time, of course – made absolute sense.

“Ha!” Amy exclaimed as she hit the wall first. Jake made sure not to slip on the tiles as he came around the corner not a second later, out of breath and beaming. “I get to ride first this time.”

She got ready in front of the slide, the water gurgling down the dark tube. The light was green, so she put her hands on the pole over the entrance, leaned back for momentum, and flung herself down the tube. She disappeared behind the first turn, her adorable cry of “wheee” echoing back up to Jake.

He positioned himself, head turned to the side to get a good look at the light. As soon as the red would turn green, he’d use all his strength to propel himself down the slide. But the light didn’t change.

A handful of people gathered behind him during the next minutes, waiting in line and growing increasingly impatient. Was the signal broken? Was Amy stuck somewhere down the slide? Did she somehow manage to hit her head in the funnel and now she was lying there, unconscious, and whatever motion sensor was waiting for her at the end of the slide was going to leave the light red for all eternity?

Okay, maybe he was being a tad bit dramatic. But when it came to his wife, he wouldn’t take any chances. (Plus, he was so eager to go again, and he would be careful not to crash into her and everything, right?) She was probably waiting for him downstairs and he was still up here, contemplating ignoring a red light.

He had to admit, it felt slightly weird to do just that, but then he was already gone. Gravity took him down the black tube, around several corners, water splashing in his face constantly. He wasn’t able to see much until he took a sharp turn and found himself in the funnel. Strobe lights and LED cones in plenty of different colors were dancing across the walls, highlighting the path to where the slide continued.

As Jake let the centrifugal force carry him through the funnel, he almost bumped into a pair of legs.

“Ames!” he called out in surprise, his voice carrying around the funnel. “There you are!” With his feet, he decelerated, coming to a stop. It was harder than he’d imagined to climb to Amy at the side of the funnel, the stream of water constantly tugging at his feet. Not to mention the slippery ground in general. “I thought you broke the slide when the light didn’t turn green.”

“I just don’t understand,” she mumbled, narrowed eyes inspecting every inch of the funnel. “How could Pearson get hit with a dart in here? The whole slide is a closed space.”

Jake had an idea. “Maybe the killer waited for him in here. And when Pearson thought he’d waited for the green light long enough, he went in, and when he came here, all the killer had to do was shoot the dart, wait a bit and follow him out at a safe distance.”

Amy shook her head. “That’s what I thought as well, but remember what Kirkwell said? The cameras didn’t show any unusual patterns right before and after Pearson came out. The intervals in which people went on the slide and came out on the other side were all on par with the usual 30 seconds, give or take. And anyone waiting in here would have been filmed, anyway.”

“When did you even have time to look at the camera feed?”

“While you took forever to change into your trunks.”

“There was a long line by the changing rooms!” he exclaimed and gesticulated, which was a mistake. He almost lost his balance, teetering on the spot, one hand against the wall, the other hovering near Amy to use her as a support pillar if necessary.

“Careful, babe.” She took a step, one foot slipping, but she caught herself.

“Let’s try this,” he said, grabbing her hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other. She did the same and, using the wall and each other for balance, they walked through the funnel to wherever Amy wanted to go.

When she reached her destination, she pointed upwards, to one of the light machines. “This one’s not visible from any angle the camera can take. Do you see a dart pistol attached or is the light playing tricks on my eyes?”

Jake carefully stood on his tiptoes, narrowing his eyes at the small black device above. It wasn’t easy seeing clearly with the multi-colored strobes darting around. “Nah, there’s nothing. And I squinted pretty hard.”

Amy let her arms fall against her sides. “Then I don’t get it.”

“He could have brought the dart himself. Maybe he rode the slide one too many times and went crazy from the strobe lights.”

“Then he went home to prepare a poisoned dart arrow, returned, rode the slide, and impaled himself while the lights were watching.”

“Exactly– no, wait, you’re mocking me.”

She nodded with a glint in her eyes. “I am. I am mocking you.”

“Well, I feel very insulted, now I have to go to the wave pool to treat myself. Maybe some fries after?”

And there was the eye-roll he’d been waiting for. “Jake, we’re still working – okay, now you’re mocking me.”

He grinned and leaned over to kiss her, staggering a little but catching himself in time.

“Very professional, Peralta.”

“Hmm, I don’t hear you complaining when–”

Suddenly, a torrent of water flushed into the funnel, followed by a pair of feet, then legs, then the rest of a young teenage girl with dark pigtails and a red-and-black swimsuit. She eyed the pair confused while the pair stared at her, until she disappeared in the tube again, one single eyebrow raised at them.

Jake realized they made quite the sight, poising on the high side of the funnel in the middle of a dark water slide, one arm each around the other’s back while standing half a foot apart for balance, faces close, eyes wide, and Jake was sure his swim trunks were hanging a little low on his butt. He reached down to pull them up.

“Maybe we should–” Amy started, but that was when he lost his footing, and the fall was inevitable. They went down together, the water carrying them out of the funnel, Jake with his head first. The tube was too narrow, the ride too fast for him to change his position as he and Amy were flushed down the drain. All he could do was splutter and turn his face so that less water got into his nose and mouth and eyes, the tunnel’s change of lighting all but a blur of colors, like a disco lightning storm.

What could only have been about ten seconds until they landed in the pool felt more like a small eternity spent preparing for the end. Shaking his head like a dog, he wiped his hands over his face and accepted Amy’s hand helping him up.

“That was an unexpected ride,” she commented.

“Title of your sex tape.”

“Again, very professional.” But she was grinning, half the hair from her bun hanging into her face, tousled from the sudden wild journey.

He was about to retort with another “Title of your sex tape!” when he spotted something. “What if he wasn’t dead yet when he came out here?”

Amy followed his eyes, latching onto the same thing. “Oh my god!”

Simultaneously, they turned to each other and exclaimed, “The vents!”

They went to find Kirkwell who confirmed that, indeed, the vents were big enough for a person to fit into. Someone could have fired the deadly poisoned dart from up there as soon as Pearson exited the slide. Kirkwell promised to have every employee who had access to the vents at the precinct by the next day.

Jake tried to convince Amy to stay at Tropic Thunder a little longer, but she threw one look at him and he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the Amy Santiago Stern Mommy Look. It always worked on Mac, and it never failed to make Jake at least a little bit horny.

That night, Amy left a little late to Rosa’s as Jake hurried to meet the landlord.

He can’t remember if he ever arrived.

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99 #the last ride #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #sleuth sisters #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #maja writes

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

Text

21st Century Vampire

One-Shot

Description: Marvel AU where Steve is a vampire who works at a blood donation centre.

Warning: Just mentions of blood, nothing gore.

This one-shot is my entry for @caplanbuckybarnes writing challenge! There are some hilarious prompts on the list! Check it out now!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Steve Rogers was probably the world's worst vampire. Even after being alive for more than a century now, he was broke. And where did he manage to find work? At a blood donation centre! Disgusting! He was lucky there were very few vampires in LA, or his reputation would have been shredded to bits. A vampire working at a blood donation centre? Humiliating! Dishonorable!

Steve hated working there. The stench of human blood was nauseating, the human beings more so. But unfortunately, the pay was decent and his colleagues were understanding. Nobody questioned his extremely pale skin, or found it weird that Steve never stepped out when the sun was still in the sky. Everybody quietly accepted that he was allergic to garlic without posing any further inquiries.

Working as a receptionist, he led quite a dull life work-wise. There wasn't really much for him to do except ask people to fill forms and sometimes calm down nervous first-time donors. He was generally patient with the humans, always biting back his wincing words, or trying his best to be as sympathetic as possible. Hey, after spending almost a 100 years on the planet, he could try to be a little more patient and a little less condescending.

But his calm and collected facade came crashing down the day you walked into the centre.

Flaunting a latest (and factually incorrect) vampire-teenager-love novel in your hand, you headed towards him and flashed a nervous smile. "Hi, do you guys take blood?"

Steve commended himself on the amount of self control it took not to roll his eyes. "You can donate blood here miss, if that's what you are talking about."

"Yes yes that's what I meant. I want to give blood. Where do I go?" you glanced towards the door beside the reception area.

"Kindly fill this form first ma'am," Steve pushed a familiar document towards you.

You filled it up pretty fast, leaving the space for your blood group blank. "I don't know what my blood group is. Is that okay?"

Calm down Steve, you can do this. "No ma'am that is not okay. When was the last time you took a blood test?"

You only bit your lower lip in response.

"We will have to get a blood report done first, then you can donate ma'am," Steve explained irritably.

You nodded, "Ummm yeah, sure, absolutely. It's not like I am scared of needles or blood or anything. I read vampire fics for a reason, people!" you told a semi-empty waiting room.

Steve squinted his eyes at you, "Are you scared, miss?"

You paused for a bit, then pointed at your book, "Yeah… But you know if I can handle the blood sucking scene in the book, I can surely handle a machine sucking my blood, right?" you tried laughing but only a dry sound escaped your throat.

Steve couldn't take it anymore. He hated novels that portrayed vampires as just human blood sucking creatures. He rolled his eyes at her, "That book is the worst kind of literature you can read. It is full of false information. Do yourself a favour and throw it in the bin."

A frown creased your forehead as you let his spiteful words sink in, "Who cares? It is still a great novel! And all the places that the author has mentioned exist in real life! So I don't know what you are talking about."

"Really? Just the real places are important to you? What about all the incorrect facts about vampires?" Steve replied hotly.

"What about it? The author has portrayed vampires in a completely different light!" you exclaimed.

Steve laughed an empty laugh, "Oohhh no! Vampires are NOT featured differently in that novel or in any other works throughout the world! They do not crave human blood. Infact, vampires hate human blood and everything to do with humans!"

"Oh yeah? And how do you know so much about vampires?"

On any other day, Steve would have backed down, claimed himself as a vampire enthusiast and accepted his defeat, but not today. Not on the full moon night he knew would turn Bucky into a tamed werewolf. He knew by the time he would reach home, Bucky would have eaten his carpets, bumped his head against himself in the mirror, ripped his stuffed toys and then cried over them. Today he had to deal with an emotional Bucky for the entire night.

Then there was you. So stubborn to accept the truth that you were willing to argue with a complete stranger about your cursed book.

The sheer stench of human blood added to the horrible cocktail of things that flipped off Steve.

Today would be the day Steve would lose his patience.

"BECAUSE I AM A VAMPIRE!" he screamed at the room.

His announcement was followed by pin-drop silence.

Unable to bear it anymore, he started his rant, "Do you think we vampires hunt humans? Of course not! There are so many of you guys in the world that it never was, is not and will never be considered as a sport! And no, our skin doesn't sparkle in the sunlight like freaking diamonds! Our sensitive skin gets burnt in the sunlight!"

His thin chest heaved as he struggled to maintain his breath, "No garlic and silver can kill us! We are all allergic to garlic. And silver gives us rashes on our skin. But do you know what is the worst part of being a vampire? The immortality! I am a 100-years-old vampire who is still somehow broke! And where did I finally manage to find work? At a freaking disgusting blood donation centre!"

You had moved away from his desk, afraid of his sudden outburst.

The door next to the reception area opened as a tall, dark man poked his head out. "Is everything okay out here?" Dr Sam Wilson asked, taking in the scene before him.

Steve was still panting as the others in the waiting room just looked at him in shock. A few had their phones out and seemed to be recording something.

"Dr. Wilson," somebody asked, "Is it true what this man said? Is he really a vampire?"

Sam looked at Steve, lines of exasperation evident on his face, "Ma'am, vampires, witches, wizards, werewolves etc do not exist in the real world."

He turned to Steve, "Steve, what's going on?"

"He just told us all that he was a vampire," you said, "Went on quite a detailed rant about it."

"Steve," Sam managed to say in a bitter tone.

"Why have you hired such wackos doc?" a man asked from the crowd.

"I am not a wacko!" Steve retaliated, "I am a vampire!"

"Then turn into a bat now!" the same guy challenged him.

"Huh! Vampires can't turn into bats. Some vampires liked to have bats as pets earlier," Steve defended his point.

"Steve, pack your things. You are fired," said a grim Sam.

"But I really am…"

"Steve, I have tolerated your outbursts in the past. I am not going to forgive you again. This is an highly unprofessional and unacceptable behaviour. You are fired effective immediately," Sam stood his ground.

Steve scoffed. So much for telling the truth.

He gathered his things and left, mad at himself, mad at the world, mad at Dr Erskine for turning him into a vampire just so that he could join the army.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice as you caught up with him. "Hey," you softly said to get his attention.

Steve jumped. You quietly chuckled at his reaction. "Aren't vampires supposed to be aware of their surroundings?"

He threw you a disgusted look and kept on walking.

"Hey wait!" you called out after him. "Are you really a vampire?"

He looked at you at that moment. The sincerity in your eyes softened his. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Can you keep a secret?" you whispered.

Steve leaned in closer to you. "I am a witch."

He looked upwards, rolled his eyes and started walking again.

"Wait! Don't you believe me?"

"No I don't! And I really enjoyed the joke. So thank you!" he shouted back.

You saw his dark silhouette become a small dot on the horizon as a plan formed in your head. A vampire was maybe just the missing piece of the puzzle. You already had a speedster, a magician who practised the dark arts, a man with superhuman strength, another who could spin spider webs through his hands and lastly, a man who could fly.

You smiled at yourself. An army of some of the strongest men on Earth was just what you needed to start a revolution. An army of men, led by you, the Scarlet Witch.

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Taglists open!

#cappysforeverchallenge #Steve!vampire #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #Steve Rogers x Vampire au #avengers au #Steve Rogers x vampire

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whoknowsbud · 4 years

Text

Speeddemon storyline

Again, not much was actually written... the format of this one reads way more like a discussion at times, because that was how a lot of this was developed and... I don’t really wanna fix any more of this stuff.

Again, DO NOT TAG AS GIO/MIS!!

Pompeii:

Giorno snatches the keys right out of Fugo’s hand and jumps in the driver seat, "hurry up get in let’s go!!" So Fugo & Abbacchio are like 'ok... at least he treats things with urgency'

The trip is horrific, and Giorno almost drives right through the park. The 「MITM」 fight happens as it did in canon, with maybe a little dry heaving stumbling around from Fugo & Abbacchio.

Abbacchio realizes he can’t drive on the way back, he’s lost too much blood and a whole hand, And Fugo...

Fugo tries, he really does. He tries so hard to get Giorno to let him drive. But... well. He’s scary. He’s a literal demon in the car.

Abbacchio: "HE ALMOST KILLED US!"

Bruno: “Giorno? That's ridiculous.”

Fugo’s almost crying because he never thought he could meet a more dangerous driver than him, and that was terrifying, but he doesn’t say anything because he’s still shaking from everything that happened in... 2 hours?

They almost crashed into a few cars on the way, almost drove right into the ruins, Giorno infected himself on purpose, he almost crashed into a few more cars on the way back, etc.

To Florence (the train):

Van scene? They all get thrown onto each other like sardines.

BIG TIME THERES NOT EVEN A SECOND TO REALIZE IF SOMEONES TOUCHING TRISH, EVERYONES ON THE GROUND IN SECONDS

ABBACCHIOS SCREAMING BECAUSE GODAMNIT HIS HAND

BRUNO HAS BIG CONCERNS BECAUSE WHERE THE HELL WAS THIS SIDE OF THE BOY!?

Narancia’s probably having fun

GIORNO ACTUALLY PASSES WHERE THEY HAD TO GO AND NOBODY REALIZES IT FOR LIKE A WHOLE 3 MILES, BUT SUDDENLY THE VAN WHIPS THE FUCK AROUND AND ALMOST TIPS OVER, ALMOST CRASHING INTO SEVERAL OTHER CARS AND ZOOMS BACK

AND THERES NO SUCH THING AS SLOWING DOWN TO GIORNO, THOSE WORDS DONT EXIST

HE ONLY EVER SLAMS ON THE BRAKES

Bruno believes Fugo and Abbacchio now.

After Florence:

"Do you feel that, Coco Jumbo," Giorno laughs. He's speaking to the turtle, seemingly forgotten that everyone's inside, "this speed, the rush! Nothing can catch you! Nobody can reach me!" And that’s... odd. That’s not the kind of thing they’d expect to hear.

Not from him; someone who didn’t seem to care who was in his way, (probably) willing to run over anyone.

And when someone (let’s say Mista) gets out of the turtle to say something, Giorno panics. He’s freaking out, because nobody was supposed to be able to catch up, he was safe as long as he was moving, moving, moving, moving, but someone was here somebody caught up and-

"Dude, hey, hey, relax! I was just going to say, we should stop for some food! There's no enemy here!"

And he realizes he summoned [Gold Experience], and its strength was crushing the wheel in his hands, and the gas pedal creaked dangerously under his heel from the pressure he was putting on it. He loosens his grip and lifts his foot, breaths heavy with the echoes of his fear, "r-right, its... safe..."

And Mista’s staring, he knows that’s not right. But Giorno wasn’t ready, clearly - and Mista didn’t want to lose an arm because he pried too soon. But he didn't forget it, and found himself watching Giorno a lot more. Watching for signs of whatever the hell set him off, trying to see if there was something they could do. This was the new guy, the youngest of them as well as probably the strongest & most confident, but he seemed like he was almost in worse shape than they were when they joined

Giorno doesn’t notice, but the others do. It’s in the way Mista sits in the passenger seat with almost no hesitation, and how he stares so closely at Giorno when he’s driving. Well, they don’t really notice that, but Mista brings it up.

"Do you notice that Giorno looks... free?" Nobody knows what the hell that’s supposed to mean, except Bruno, who agrees but doesn’t expand on it.

"Do you think Giorno...," he starts at some other time, but stops himself.

Abbacchio fills in, "is a lunatic? Yes."

"No - I mean, he’s a little crazy, but I mean- do you think he-," Mista hesitates, and finishes quietly, "he’s running from something?"

That strikes a nerve.

Because they’ve all been running from something. The past, the future, themselves, or others – they’ve all been running.

Venezia:

Thanks to Ghiaccio and that chase on Liberty Bridge, Mista figures out exactly what made Giorno panic so badly

Whereas Mista just startled him before in that truck, Giorno knew there was nobody around on that bridge.

When Ghiaccio shows up, Giorno knows it’s because he caught up

He was only caught when he stopped before, he was always safe when he moved. For the first time in his life, someone caught up when he was running;

Because he’s not fast enough, and if one person can catch up then there are hundreds of others, and he can never be safe again.

Mista figures this out because Giorno’s saying it out loud; "I’m not fast enough", "they’ll catch me", etc.

And he realizes Giorno is running from everything.

He was probably even trying to run from them, emotionally.

Now I’m not sure what kind of speech Mista could/would give, but I imagine there’d be something there about... Not how running away doesn’t solve anything, that’s not what he needs. Something like...

"It’s easier to run away when the thing chasing you can only walk."

Or of course, "if you get rid of what’s chasing you, you don’t need to run."

So Giorno realizes there’s one thing he’s always done when he’s running that he hasn’t done now

Stop.

So he slams on the brake and summons [Gold Experience] to stop the car from up front. Ghiaccio was not prepared for this, and he slams right into the car, skidding across the icy top and sliding ahead on the bridge, probably for a good mile.

And now it’s time to run again.

[Gold Experience] hits the car from behind to get it moving while Giorno hits the gas, and Ghiaccio is definitely hit.

Mista’s stomach is in absolute knots, he feels it in his throat, but he cheers anyways because hell yea, and that light of freedom is back and Giorno’s laughing, when seconds ago he was approaching a near total breakdown

Of course Ghiaccio’s not done, but they bought time, time to get ahead and thaw the car, time to get several miles closer to the goal and a plan

Which is when Giorno drives the car into the canal.

(Not before making a pigeon and sending it ahead to steal the disc, as well as just filling the car with leafy plants)

So they kind of just... huddle down and wait. No way Ghiaccio would see the bubbles & ripples and think it wasn’t them, and Giorno was sure he’d freeze the water to be sure they’d drown. With the plants they’d have oxygen for a few hours, and the pigeon (having been made from one of Trish's hairpins, stolen of course) would return to the turtle with the disk in no time (he hoped), so they just had to wait.

Of course, this wouldn’t be Golden Wind if something didn’t go wrong. So there’s a splinter in the glass the two are worried about, and they watch with growing fear as it steadily stretches across the windshield, water streaming in, until the break is too big for the glass to stand.

This is where they don’t have time to think of alternatives, and they have to swim out asap. There’s no telling where Ghiaccio’s waiting, or really where they even are, so they just have to hope for the best and get to the surface

And the surface is, of course, frozen over. So they have to estimate where they are by light - or rather, by shadows, because their best chance of going unseen is to break out under the bridge.

Which... Ghiaccio’s smart, he’s figured that out too. But he doesn’t know their stands, so he’s waiting right above, waiting to hear the telltale smash.

But they don’t actually break through; it’d take too much energy, be too loud, and the rest of the ice would be too unstable. Giorno, Mista, and [Gold Experience] are just kind of... pushing against it

Eventually it starts splintering and cracks open, and they can get their heads out at least to breathe - at the same time Ghiaccio’s starting to rant about secrets, or girls, or... something, they aren’t really paying attention

They’re both getting ridiculously numb, but the ice seems like it won’t hold their weight, so they can’t get out of the water too quickly - they actually have to push their way through, cringing and holding their breath at every sound.

Giorno sees the pigeon on the rather distant statue and knows the disc must be inside - disappointed that it isn’t handled, but glad the pigeon blended in well enough that the statue was never investigated. But the trash was, it seemed, and whatever image Mista thought of made him grin.

It was enough of a distraction from the cold that they were able to drag themselves onto the bank, but the next problem was an even bigger obstacle. How could they get to Ghiaccio and take him out, or get to the disc and grab it, before being seen...?

Giorno considers the ice itself. He couldn’t make anything that'd actually help in this cold - the water they’d just escaped was already freezing over - but a distraction... And nothing was better to get an enemy's attention than to make them think they were making a break for it.

So Giorno makes 2 winter bass - big enough to make a lot of noise, but not so big that they’d be immediately caught - and drops them in the most fragile area of reforming ice, sending them on their way. Their backs bump the solid ice a few times as they go around, and Ghiaccio makes a noise like a squawk and jumps up, following what he believes are the two targets

They both get up. Giorno signals for Mista to stay down, but Mista grabs his arm, "hey, relax a little, let me. I need a success somewhere; you're hogging all the glory." He smiled, to show he’s kidding but intends to do this, and though he doesn’t get it, Giorno smiles back slightly.

Mista’s weird boots don’t have the slight heels Giorno's shoes do, so it really was for the best as he trudges his way to the statue. After a second, he grabs his gun and starts trying to chip the stone away, grabbing the pieces as they fall, and watching where Ghiaccio ran off.

Eventually, when he sees the corner of the case, he fumbles, nearly cursing aloud when the pieces of stone hit the ground with echoing clacks

He ends up panicking, yanking the disk out, and scrambled back to the bridge

And then they both realize they have no idea what to do next

Giorno gives the disk to Trish's hairclip pigeon and sends it off, but they still have a big threat to handle. Neither of them can tell how much of their shaking is from the cold, and how much is the anxiety

Giorno ends up grabbing Mista’s hand, hoping it would ground him, and Mista realizes just how scared Giorno actually is. How scared he probably always is, when they're not moving at insane speeds.

And he can't let that fear be any more justified.

"We'll get out of this," he whispers, "we'll get this guy, get back to our friends, and we'll be moving again, little buddy."

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stateofgrace1303 · 5 years

Text

My chronic illness, how it started.

*Can you guys please reblog and/or tag Taylor?? I really want her to read

this. I want this to get to her and I'll take any help I can get. I rarely ask this but it'd mean to world to me. I wanna get my story

out there (even if this is only a part of the entire story. The rest I

might post sometime if you guys want me too. I think I did include

everything I wanted to for now though). Just thank you all so much!!! I

love you all ❤*

(Im really sorry about how long this is. Its like a little novel. Plus I'm

OCD and tend to talk/rant until it feels just right... I just wanted to

share it with all of you, since its something I would've shared on TSL,

even though it'd probably be too long for there... But I wanted to share it

here because most of those swifties can be found on tumblr, and I want you

all to hear this... Maybe it'll even get to Taylor too. But please read if

you can. It'd mean a lot to me. Also I tried writing this but then it got

deleted when I tried posting it, so hopefully this one posts (I ended up trying to post this ALL DAY. I'm so glad it's finally up).)

Hey Swifties! So, I thought I would post this because its something I'd

post on TSL if it was still around, as I shared pretty much my whole life

on there, and I always found swifties very easy to talk to (plus you're all

just the nicest people)! So, I wanted to share this on here since most

swifties can be found on tumblr. I'm sure i talked a little bit about this

on tsl (my user was stateofgrace1303, same as on here and ig) but I wanted

to tell you guys more, especially because its getting so much more intense

now and like I said I've always found swifties very easy to talk to you.

Basically, when I was 12, my dad took me to see the RED tour at Gillette

Stadium. We had gone to see the Speak Now tour there and I had been

completely wonderstruck (no pun intended) by Taylor that night. I was 10 at

the speak now tour and had idolized Taylor since I was 6 and she put out

TOMG (and I was known as the Taylor Swift girl by now at my school). So

even though I was 10 I asked my dad, if I save up the money will you take

me to see her when she comes again? And he said yes. About 2 weeks before

the show, I had saved up enough. He didn't think i could do it, but I did.

So, I got tickets and we went to the tour. But when I was walking towards

the stadium (we had parked in a lot right down the street), my vision

became weird, almost like tunnel vision although nothing was turning black

around the edges of my vision. My feet looked very far away from me.

Suddenly, a rush of dizziness came over me and instinctively i grabbed onto

my dads arm to keep from falling down. He asked if I was okay and I could

barely get out words for some reason. I was starting to sweat and we

thought maybe i was dehydrated, so we got into the stadium as quickly as

possible. I was gripping onto everything around me to keep from falling,

but eventually we got into the stadium and I got some water. We had seats

on the field, so that's where I was, drinking some water when suddenly I

was pretty sure I was going to throw up. It was starting to get super

uncomfortable so my dad brought my to the first aid, which was actually

right at the enterance on the field. So when we went in there my dad told

them what was going on and they all looked at me weird and said "people

never get sick. We usually treat bee stings and allergic reactions. We

almost never have people get sick" which actually surprised me. But, they

took me back and laid me down. Almost immediately I started puking. The

nurse I had actually had just had a baby and had some anti nausea

medication on her. So, she gave me that but it didn't work. And I just got

worse. My dad went to find me something to eat so I'd have something in my

stomach. He came back with some chips and iced/frozen lemonade but I threw

up every time. I was so dizzy at this point I was gripping onto the bed

they had me on and puking my guts out, as well as sweating a lot. After a

while, as it only got worse, they actually thought I might have had food

posioning and asked what I ate. But there they noticed something. I was

completely white. Like white as a ghost. Except for my lips, which were

turning blue. And I was struggling to breathe. They wanted to take me to

Boston Childrens and my dad asked if I wanted to, but it was Taylor. I

couldn't miss it. So I said no for that reason. But actually, everyone at

the stadium was trying to get me tickets for the show the next night as she

was playing two nights. Security guards, the nurses, my dads girlfriend...

But nobody could get tickets in the end which was okay. But later my dad

went and for a list of everybody's set times. I had been in first aid for

about an hour at this point. He came back with the list and said "I promise

I will not let you miss them" he said and pointed to Ed Sheerans name, then

Taylor, since I was a huge Ed fan as well. He knew I probably wouldn't be

able to stay, but even seeing them for a minute would've been perfect to

me. Another hour had passed, and I was still there in the same condition.

It was terrifying, and they were really pushing me to go to the hospital

(they wanted to call an ambulance because they actually thought something

very bad might happen if they didn't). But I keep pushing that off because

I wanted to see Taylor and Ed so badly. But, 2 hours I had been there in

the same condition, puking up everything, completely white with blue lips,

struggling to breathe, so dizzy I couldn't even sit up. It was starting to

get painful honestly. So, I suddenly just burst out crying. I was just a 12

year old who wanted to see my idol, and I got this... This weird sickness,

and got stuck in first aid. In so much pain. I didn't even really

understand what was happening. I had always been a sick kid. Always getting

colds and infections. In fact, I almost died as a baby from a problem with

my kidneys, and had become septic. Its a miracle I lived. But I had never

experienced anything like this... And to experience it when I was just

trying to see my idol? When it was only my second concert ever? It crushed

me tbh. My dad asked what was wrong and I finally said the words I had been

avoiding all night... "I wanna go home" (which was actually his

girlfriend's house who lived in Boston... I'm from Maine). And he said

"okay". That was all he needed and he left, walking back towards where we

left the car. However, around 7:30ish the traffic in this area is really

weird I cant even explain it. But traffic can only go one way, instead of

both ways like normal.. So he couldn't get a ride back to the car and had

to walk, and then drive the car in traffic all the way to the stadium to

pick me up. So i had to wait a while, and while I did I heard clapping and

then a British voice say "hello Boston" and he started playing give me

love. I listened to him play and i only cried more because I was so

frustrated I couldn't go out there to see him. About half way through the

set, my dad showed up. They let him park in a no parking zone to come and

get me so he was right next to the enterance to the field. They were going

to put me in a wheelchair, but instead my dad came and helped me up. He was

holding me up straight and almost dragged me out of the first aid station,

into the stadium. I remember this part so well. The air hit me, I heard

Ed's voice clearly and saw him on stage, and suddenly, I let go of my dad,

and I was able to stand on my own... And I was fine. It was like a miracle.

I yelled to my dad over the music "is it too late to stay?" And he screamed

back "what??? After all that you wanna stay???" And I said yes, so, we

stayed. He went to go move the car (the girl was so nice who did the

parking, he told her the story, and he just needs to park the car and het

back in the stadium, how much would it cost. And the girl said park

wherever you want no charge. I thought that was seriously the sweetest

thing.) Sooo he did that, and since I was only 12 in a huge stadium, one of

the cops that was patroling the place stayed with me and asked me all kinds

of questions about Ed Sheeran, especially about the A-Team, when he played

it. He said "this isn't his song right?? Is this a cover?? I know this

song." And I told him it wad and told him all about it. It was the ideal

conversation for 12 year old me 😂 Anyway, my dad came back, we got to our

seats, and I actually met Andrea for a very brief moment! And before I knew

it, Taylor was playing. And I had made it through the entire show. I woke

up the next morning, still feeling a little sick but actually felt better

after eating, so I thought the worst was over. But, I was wrong... I didn't

know that one night would become my life... And god I wish I had gone to

the hospital... Maybe I would be okay now if I had... But anyway... A month

later (in August), it happened at my friends end of summer party. Then a

month later (in September), while I was at school... Each time worse than

the time before. Everyone had been informed I was having issues, but nobody

had seen anything happen yet. I seemed like myself. Then one day, I was on

my way to lunch with my friends, and I collapsed in the hallway... Same

thing happening. All my friends freaked out and 2 stayed with me while the

rest went to get the nurse. She actually thought I was dying, and honestly

I could've. She called my mom and said she wasn't sure if she should call

my mom or an ambulance. Then my mom came and got me and immedaitly took me

to my doctor (because she said next time it happens to come in so they

could monitor me). I was monitored and fell asleep, then 4 hours later i

woke up like nothing happened. After that i was pulled out of school and

constantly at the doctor. And I just got sicker and sicker... Which was

later diagnosed as... "Anxiety". By an unqualified doctor. He was a thyroid

doctor and diagnosed me with that?? As time went on, I got incredibly sick

to the point I can't even move. I have become completely disabled and lose

control of my body a lot. It's like my brain is disconnected from my body.

And I get this weird feeling im falling off a cliff and I cant feel my arms

and when that happens, I cant move at all. I cant even express how bad it

can get, how scary and painful it is. I'm a lot sicker than most people

think I am... I spend most days in bed, actually unable to move. I find

ways to keep my spirits up, luckily. Mostly its listening to Taylor and

watching friends but yeah 😂 I have days where I can't even sit up I'm so

dizzy and weak and it hurts so much. Its also terrifying when you don't

have full control over your own body. Absoultely terrifying. Although I

have okay days where I can stand up and function for a little bit, most

days lately have been like this... Bad and living from my bed due to

weakness and dizziness (extreme dizziness honestly). I have days where its

even a struggle to breathe, the most simple thing in the world. It gets

depressing at times... When you spend all ur time in bed or a wheelchair it

really can vet discouraging... But I'm still fighting. And I'm so happy I

am. And like I said, Taylor always lifts me up. Even on my worst, most

disabled and bed ridden days. Oh, that reminds me... I also have seizures

now, sadly. But I hadn't had what happened that night at the RED tour in a

while though... Until one night last year... While I was seeing Ed Sheeran

in Gillette Stadium 😂 Maybe its him?? I dont know 😂 Anyway, I spend most

days in bed, and I do online schooling now. I've seen Taylor twice since

then. For 1989 and for reputation. With 1989 I needed a lot of help but I

got through it. Reputation, it had gotten so bad I needed a wheelchair and

I still do whenever I go out, really. I dont have full control over my body

and I'm too weak and just very sick. I'm really hoping to go to lover fest

but if i do will need a wheelchair and even then I'll probably still feel

sick... But Taylors worth it ❤ Hopefully can get ada seating like with rep.

Wanted to keep this last part short but I think I failed 😂 Mainly wanted

to focus on the red tour. My health story is so incredibly long, I couldn't

say it all (maybe I will later). However, for now, I will tell you this, I

was diagnosed with a thyroid disease, migraines, and seizures. Then it was

discovered that all of this... Was advanced Lyme Disease... And it created

something called Dysautonomia (basically a disfunction of the autonomic

nervous system, which most people don't even realize they have, or how

important it is, until it makes you sick and either nearly kills or

cripples you... Depending on the kind though.) Also known as POTS, or

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (there are actually 15 kids of

dysautonomia, that being one of them, I might possibly have more than one

kinda, were not sure yet. But its basically half cardiology half

neurology). And there's no cure... I could be this way, this disabled and

sick for a while... But there are treatments that might work luckily!!!

Since there are no Dysautonomia clinics in Maine, I either have to go to

New York, Baltimore, Cleveland, or Minneapolis. So looks like im taking a

trip! Sadly to a hospital, but still 😊 I honestly don't know how we'll pay

for it, but I need it, or I will spend my life like this. So I'm sure we'll

find a way... Like I always seem to do in life, no matter what 😊❤ Oh, and

funny thing is, I have something called PANS as well... So I have Pots and

Pans 😂😂😂 Anyway, I just wanted to share this with you guys because like

I said you guys are always so great and Taylor is my favorite artist so I

wanted to share it with the people who understand my love for her. I've

been a huge fan of her for 13 years (I'm 18, 19 next month, now). Theres

something about her... She's always helped me but especially now. She makes

me so happy and feel so safe during this time... Im fact, the only time i

smile like i did when I was younger,before all of this, is when I listen to

Taylor. I even have a Long Live tattoo on my wrist because I felt it

represented my love for her the most, and what we've made as a fandom, the

magic we've created. Plus, it reminds me that I'm fighting my battle (this

"dragon") with Taylor and her music on my side, as well as all of you. And

it makes me smile. I can't wait to get more Taylor tattoos... Honestly,

after all of this and the other health issues I faced as a baby and a

child, I can't believe I'm still here, that I'm still living... Especially

because since I've always been so sick with so many different illnesses and

health issues to the point I'm disabled, my immune system is so weak. I

truly cannot believe I'm still here. But... I guess my body just isn't

ready to give up. It hasn't yet at least!!! And it doesn't want to. It

won't. I'm strong. Me, and my body, want to fight until the very end. And

I'm grateful for that. So grateful that I am still alive, and still

fighting every day of my life. It might be hard, and I can't function or do

really anything but lay in bed and watch tv most days, but I'm just so

thankful that I'm still alive, that it's okay I have to be at the doctors

so much and have to take all these meds (I do anything at this point that

can help me even the slighest). And no matter what life throws at my

health, my body always fights it and gets right back up. I fall down 10

times, I stand up 11. And I could not have the courage and strength to do

this if it wasn't for my idol, Taylor Swift. I've been a fan of Taylor for

13 years (I'm 18 now, 19 next month) so her and her music have helped me

through every problem I have ever faced, and this is no different. She has

a song for everything, so I can always find something to listen to that

makes me feel like she understands and she's telling me it'll be okay...

And ever since LOVER came out, I've been listening to soon you'll get

better on days its really bad, and my girlfriend sends me that song on bad

days too... It makes me feel safe. And like I can fight this. Thank you,

Taylor. I will never be able to repay you. I may struggle with this every

single day im here on earth, but with your music and the support I feel

from the swiftie fam, I know I'll get through it. Anyway... I guess I

should end this here. Again, sorry this is so long but if you read this

thank you so much for taking the time to!! If you made it to this point,

I'm proud 😂❤ And it means the world to me, you have no idea. Im hoping

this will get to Taylor and maybe even Ed one day. I love you all so much

and once again, thank you for reading!! ❤❤❤

@taylorswift @taylornation 🌈❤ @taylornotices 💜

(Pic is from when I was in First Aid at Ed Sheeran. It was so bad there

they had to give me an IV. I was in the first aid station, wrapped up in my

nightmare before Christmas blanket, on a stretcher with an IV in my hand

pretty much the entire night. It was so painful. When I arrived to first

aid I was actually unresponsive. Like I knew what was happening but I

couldn't talk or open my eyes. All I could do was make very small

movements. It felt like my body was shutting down. I was having bad heart issues as well and they wanted to give me a medicine fot my nausea but since I had lyme disease it could make my heart issues worse so they had to give me an EKG... Right there at the concert 😂 Interesting... But, I got through it.

Like always 😊 So yeah thats where the

picture is from ❤)

#taylurking #taylorswift #taylorstans #taylornation #red #redtour #edsheeran #lymedisease #dysautonomia #taylorlurking #i love you taylor #tay #usertaylornotices #tswift

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realityhelixcreates · 6 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 11: Dark World

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mention of genocide, casual racism, mentions of past death Relationships: Loki x Reader (if you squint) Characters: Loki (Marvel), OFC, Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Loki needs to Work on the Racism, Have More Headcanons, Loki is Not Fond of Stephen Strange, Loki is also Not Fond of Reliving Certain Memories Summary: Reader gets an impromptu astronomy/history lesson, but Loki glosses over the important parts, not wanting to dwell on the very history that he himself made

Loki was still reading the Alfar book when you returned, but he set it aside for a moment to inquire about how your check-in went.

“I told him the truth.” You said simply. “I’m not gonna lie to Captain America.”

“Oh, you fancy the old soldier?” He teased.

“I believe in what he stands for.” You said, lifting your chin.

“And what is that? Ah, don’t tell me.” He stood, and began to prowl around you like a cat. “Courage. Nobility. Self-sacrifice. Honor and glory! For God and Country! Amen!”

“Justice.” You said, as he completed his circle. “No more billionaires getting away with slavery and murder. No more cops killing you for having the wrong skin color. No more people thinking there even is a wrong skin color. No more kids going hungry in the richest nation on Earth. No blindly following unjust laws. Standing up, and making your little corner of the world a better place. We wanna believe America is exceptional? Then we have to make it that way. We haven’t, but we could.”

“And what do you bring to that table, little baker?” He questioned. “What’s exceptional about you?”

You had never been anything special. You were average. You had gotten average grades, came from an average part of the country, looked average. You were a hard worker, but you couldn’t be anything less, or you’d be homeless. Average jobs meant starvation wages. You hadn’t gone to college. You’d never stopped studying, but without a degree, all your extracurricular learning meant nothing. What could you have been, if only you’d had the money to make anyone believe in your worth? What could you do?

“I can do magic.” You offered.

“Can you? Why don’t you show me?”

So he was still going to be like that, was he?

You quickly grabbed him by the hand, and reached for a nearby glass. He caught you by the wrist before you could pick it up, and shook his hand loose from yours.

“Okay, yes. But can you do it without our contact?”

“Not yet.” You conceded. “But once you teach me how, I will.”

“So what you’re saying is that, for you to grow and reach your great potential…you need me.”

He fixed you with a positively wolfish grin. It made your stomach flip. You crossed your arms and stared up into his teeth. He just wants you to react.

“Or, you know, that wizard we saw before.”

“That presumptuous dilettante?” He growled. “The arrogant dabbler would have you scrubbing his floors to distract you from his lack of ability! He wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

“And you do?”

“Moreso than that cocksure novice!”

“Sure don’t like him, huh? What’s the deal? Did he scuff up your shoes one time, or something?” Now this was amusing! He sounded like an overdramatic teenager ranting about a rival.

“He’s a swaggering pretender playing with forces he barely understands. A baby given an incredibly dangerous toy. I have had centuries to grow and mature in the Art, he has the equivalent training of picking up a pamphlet and thinking he’s learned everything.”

“Mature, huh? Is that why you turned my hair green?”

He snorted. “It’s not green, you little fool.” He waved his hand in front of your eyes. “Go look.”

You did. Everything was normal again.

“The illusion was not on your hair.” He informed you. “It was on your eyes. Did you think nobody said anything about it out of respect? My brother would have mentioned it, even if no one else did.”

“Okay, I’m…actually less mad about that than I thought I would be. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I can do an untold number of things that you don’t yet know about.”

“Oh.” That sounded mildly threatening. “Well…can you tell me more about Svartalfheim? I couldn’t finish my lesson yesterday, Miss Valkyrie was a little unsure about the details of its recent history.”

He frowned. “You’re still on about that? I suppose it’s lucky that one of my meetings has been cancelled. But I cannot always waste time on your curiosity. “

“Rude! You think teaching your history is wasting time?”

“I don’t.” He sat down, patting the bench, inviting you to join him. Why did he do things like that? His moods and actions in constant flux. You never knew where he’d be a few moments down the line.

Loki is the trickster of the gods, an untrustworthy god of lies, deceit, treachery and evil. The father of lies and monsters, a patron of misleading actions.

You sat down next to him.

“It’s just that I hate Svartalfheim, and I hate the Svartalfari. Living through events that make it into history books is nearly always unpleasant in some way. But you are so cursed curious, so I suppose I must fill you in.”

He conjured an image of a black, cloudy world, orbiting a dim, eclipsed sun. There were no visible stars. Swathes of dust obscured the already weak light.

“It’s beautiful.” You breathed.

He gave you a look. “It’s dismal. Just look at it. It’s colorless, dry and depressing.”

“But how is it like this? How is the sun like that? Where are the stars?”

“Do you want history or astronomy?”

“Both!”

He sighed. “The galaxy in which Svartalfheim is located contains a great deal of dust and dark matter. Svartalfheim itself orbits a small, young star within an absorption nebula. Do you know what that is?”

“I know what a nebula is.”

“Okay, well there’s more than one kind. This kind does not glow with the light of the stars within it; no light escapes or enters. So, no stars, no constellations, no inkling that there might be someone else out there. There are but two planets in this system, no others have had time to form. There is Svartalfheim, small, dark, dirty. And then there is this enormous gas giant, just barely not a star itself. Both planets are very close to the star, so Svartalfheim is warm, despite the darkness. But by some fluke of development, both planets have the exact same orbital period. Meaning-“ He continued, noticing your slightly confused expression. “-that they have the exact same length of year. And so, this gas giant is forever between Svatalfheim and the star. The eclipse is permanent. A day on Svartalfheim is very long. Long dark days, and long black nights. Do you follow?”

“Stuff’s dark. I got it.”

“Yes. And so, no plants larger than lichens grow. That’s really all they have there. Lichens and mushrooms. The soil is poor, as is the ecosystem. Only a few species can live there, and the majority of those are carnivorous, feeding off small eaters of lichen, and each other. All of this contributes to the overall dreariness of the place. “

“I still think it’s beautiful.”

“Why?” He asked, seeming annoyed that you hadn’t instantly taken up his same dislike of the place. “It’s bleak. It’s empty. It’s hostile.”

“It’s different! It’s new, and young, and we’ve never seen what might live on a young planet. I didn’t even know life could form on planets in such weird circumstances.”

“Midgardian attitudes toward space are rather amusing, do you know that? You all have such a passion for it, but you’ve barely done anything with that passion. It’s as if you are obsessed with looking through your windows, but won’t take but a few steps outside your own door.”

“Well, I mean, we didn’t have a Bifrost, and we need, just, so much air? To survive? I already know we’re less tough and have shorter lives than you all, so that probably has something to do with it. We haven’t been able to build ships that could hold everything we need, and go fast enough to get us places within those short lifespans. And then I think some weird things happen to our bodies when we stay in space for too long? I’m not sure, I haven’t studied it before. Kinda want to now, though.”

“There is a Bifrost here now.” Loki pointed out. “Someday, it will be like our old one, and able to transport people to all of these planets. Svartalfheim is forbidden though, on order of the king. And myself. I’m afraid I can never take you there.”

“Oh. But why not?”

“Because we hate it. Or rather, I hate it, and my brother hates it and also sympathizes with it.”

“You’ve been beating around the bush here. Can’t you tell me what happened?”

“I can. But it’s unpleasant. You know, I assume, of my grandfather’s battle with the Svartalfari?”

“Yeah. And the Aether, and that it came back later in a human lady. Did you meet her?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes…we met.”

“What was she like? She had this stone inside her?”

“She was…interesting. Secretly powerful. You know only a few can handle the stones without terrible consequences. She didn’t exactly handle it, she could not utilize its powers, but she did contain it. If you were to touch one of these things, it would likely consume you entirely, understand? She held it within her body, and all it did was weaken her.

In the end, we rid her of its influence, but it fell into our enemies hands. Behold.”

A small figure emerged. It was entirely white and black; white skin, white hair, white armor that looked carved from bone, all wrapped and strapped in leathery black clothing. It wore an expressionless, hollow-eyed, white mask over its face.

“Okay, that’s creepy.”

“That’s a Svartalfar. Hideous, cave-crawling, hateful creatures.”

“Why do they look like us? Why do they all look like us?”

“What do you mean?” The planet and the person dissipated.

“Vanir, Asgardian, Human, Svart-al-far, we all look the same. Same body shape, same faces. We all have written languages, wear clothes, make fashion choices. Some worse than others. We should all be extremely different from one another, shouldn’t we?”

“Convergent evolution?” He suggested.

“I’m gonna have to look that up. So is that why they’re so pale? Because they live in caves?”

“Precisely. They are very insular, unforgiving of any weakness. They used to war against each other, having no idea there was anything or anyone outside of their tiny star system. They couldn’t do what humans did; they couldn’t look out into the stars and wonder if they were alone or not. When they found out that they were not, they did not react with wonder, or even fear. They have only hatred for anything that isn’t one of them. They try to destroy anything that is not Svartalfari.”

“Okay, but you guys didn’t exactly come with open arms, right? You wanted something that was on the planet, didn’t you?”

He sighed. “Metals. Mostly zinc and silver.”

“Uh-huh. So their first contact with another species was a bunch of warlike invaders who wanted to steal their stuff. But of course, they’re just ‘naturally inclined’ to hate all outsiders.”

“Now I know it seems like that, but we did attempt to open trade agreements first. We saw how poor the ecosystem of the planet was, and offered to trade food with them. Grain and such.”

“Did they not want that? Was it taken as some kind of insult?”

“No, not exactly. It just turned out our food was poisonous to them.”

“Oh no!”

“Yes. Our existence, what we represented-that is, an entire unseen universe beyond what they thought was ‘everything’-upset their cultural understanding of their place in existence. And this death we brought could only be interpreted as a deliberate attack. The Svartalfari are truly immortal, you understand; they can be killed, but they do not die on their own. Old age is an unknown concept to them. Due to this, their birth rate is incredibly low. They had a stable population of only a few tens of thousands, that’s it.

Hundreds died in the initial poisonings. That was when their hatred truly took hold. As the deaths continued, one of them rose to a position of prominence. He spread a doctrine of genocide among his people; that all others were a mockery of what the universe should be. That all others must die. They began by killing the Asgardian miners and merchants, and continued doing this until the armies came. This one man mustered all of his warring people under one cause, and claimed to have a weapon to back him up.

He had discovered the Aether. You know it as an Infinity Stone, the Reality stone specifically. With it, one can influence, or even change reality itself. He intended to use it to revert the universe to its initial state of darkness. It was possible only under a cosmic convergence that brings all the realms into line, and breaks down barriers between those worlds. He thought to use the stone then, to reach as far into the universe as he could, extinguishing the light along the way.

My grandfather and our armies routed them. Nearly the entire species was wiped out, and we left the planet permanently.”

“Didn’t stay for the silver?”

“I think, for perhaps the first time, my grandfather regretted a battle. He certainly liked to fight and conquer, but I do not believe he was genocidal. That takes a…a certain kind of insanity that rarely looks like what it is. So he forbid his people from returning, leaving the planet as a graveyard.

But, of course, they didn’t all die. Their leader, some of his soldiers, and a very few children survived. And so, thousands of years later, they tried again. In search of the Aether, which was within that woman, they actually invaded Asgard.

I was imprisoned at the time. You know, for my oh-so heinous crimes against your world, which my father had abandoned a millennia ago.” He sounded positively venomous for a moment. “You know, they broke all the other criminals out. Offered to free me, but…I just didn’t take the opportunity. You know, I think I still believed I’d be forgiven in time. ‘Look Father! I had the chance, but I didn’t take it! I still have some honor after all!’ Hmph.” He grimaced. “The Svartalfari invaders murdered the queen while I stayed in a cage.”

And there was the reason their mother had never been mentioned. She wasn’t here. You opened your arms almost on reflex. Who had hugged him after that?

His hand was on your forehead in an instant, halting your compassionate advance.

“Spare me.” He said dryly. “It wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me that day.”

“What?”

“Well of course we sought revenge. Did you know my brother and Heimdall are traitors to the Crown? It was never just me. We broke so many laws together. Ah, good times. We headed right to Svartalfheim, got the Aether out of that woman, and tricked the Svartalfari easily. And then I was killed, and left behind on that miserable place.”

“What?” You repeated.

“Obviously I wasn’t completely dead, but I was very close. It certainly seemed like it; enough to fool absolutely everyone. Including myself. But I am Aesir, and I did not die. Oh, but they did. All of the invaders. I ended the life of my mother’s killer, but if I could have taken the head of every remaining member of the species, I would have.”

“Genocide takes a certain kind of insanity-“ You began to repeat his earlier words.

“Yes. It does.” He stared at you, face sharp and serious. “My brother has once again forbid contact with Svartalfheim. Any who survive may someday rebuild the species. I cannot bring myself to care.”

“Your highness.” You said firmly. “You should allow me to hug you.”

He gave you a long, silent side-glance.

“You do not command me, tiny mortal.” He proclaimed darkly. But he did lift his arm, and look away, giving you the opportunity to wrap your arms around his middle.

You took it.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#marvel fanfiction

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kimnamjooonz · 6 years

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Blank Space - Episode 1.

Okay, here’s the first episode of the thing I wrote.

Episode 1 - Hold Up

''Hold Up, they don't love you like I love you.''

On the outskirts of the town of Caernarfon in North Wales there was a little farm that belonged to a Aloisius and Helen Ward-Prowse a lovely couple that had made a living out of selling sheep's wool. Around their lovely house there were pictures of two raven haired children: tall and muscular yet inexpressive Clint, and Amanda, the lively and expressive girl that was slowly becoming a grown woman. Amanda Ward-Prowse was the darling of his parents and the soft spot of her strong and mighty brother. But it wasn't as if she needed protecting. as she could take care of herself perfectly well. Sometimes she was more intimidating than her rugby player brother. At 25, Amanda was an accomplished actress that could presume of having moderate success as in many Shakespeare plays but still hadn't had the chance of doing something big with her acting career. That's why she had decided to start from the bottom and audition for a place at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, in London. She had come a long way from starring in her school plays or the summer lessons at the prestigious Cardiff College of Music and Drama, even starring in many plays at the Shakespeare's Globe and small roles in British TV shows or soap operas. But her first important role had come from the Royal Shakespeare Company that offered her one of the main roles in a production of Richard III. That's how she ended up on the stage of the dreamy Royal Shakespeare Theatre. And to that, several productions followed, peaking in a version of Macbeth starring none other than Ian McKellen. Amanda had got dazzling reviews with her performance as Lady Macbeth and reviewers were asking when she'd finally have her big break. One year later, she was still waiting for it while preparing a series of complicated auditions to one of the most prestigious drama schools in the world. It was currently July and Amanda was facing the biggest challenge of her career yet: the final audition. On that warm summer night, Amanda and her best friend Taylor Bevan were just planning the schedule for the next days. Taylor had been her right hand since their school days. From the days Taylor kept saying that she was going to be Amanda's agent when they grew up. They were both sitting on the bed at Amanda's bedroom. This place had changed little since she was a kid. The walls were covered with pictures of herself at different plays, with the animals of the farm, of that time she had won the Caernarfon Junior Challenge of Chopping wood with an axe (she still kept the trophy among the ones she had got from acting) and the picture with Sir Ian McKellen. The only different picture there, was of Amanda's favourite actor since 2013: Sebastian Stan. His picture was between one of Amanda playing Lady Macbeth and another of herself hugging one of her cats. She had an unhealthy obsession with Sebastian in a particular way. She had fan accounts dedicated to him even though she never lusted over him on the Internet (maybe a couple of thirst tweets but that was all). She just tagged him in some posts on Instragram from time to time, captioned with sweet words telling him how much he meant to her. Also, she had never been one of those people who sent hate to any of his former girlfriends even though she had been jealous as hell and she couldn't help it. She had just wanted to grab the axe and kill a bitch. But those thoughts were never expressed out loud. She smiled thru the pain and went on with her life. And she wasn't damaging anyone. Well, maybe herself. God be praised that the guy was single now. Taylor knew about that even though Amanda hardly ever talked about it. Sometimes she wondered if it was sane for Amanda to be so attached to a guy so unattainable but then... she had the weird feeling that Sebastian Stan wasn't so impossible for Amanda Ward-Prowse. She had worked with people like Ian McKellen before, working with Sebastian Stan someday wasn't at all impossible. Amanda was rereading the lines of her monologue for the thousandth time with one of her cats curling on her chest. She had decided to play it safe and had chosen a piece of Lady Macbeth, a role that she had done many times before under more stressful circumstances. ''Take that furry thing out of the bed, he's shedding black fur all over it.'' Taylor grunted. ''Which one is this, by the way?'' ''Sir Frances Drake'' Amanda cuddled the black cat closer to her chest. ''Really, Taylor. You almost live at this house and you don't know the names of the cats?'' she rolled her eyes. ''Tay, can you take a look at my Twitter and see if I have any notifications?'' ''Your twitter is basically a fan account by now. If you make it to the RADA you'll have to change it.'' ''I was planning to have a stage name. Something more impressive than Amanda Ward-Prowse.'' she went on reading the monologue. In Taylor's opinion that was a complete waste of time. Who needed silly social media when she was about to have the most important audition of her life? And the only notification she could have was someone informing the breaking news that Sebastian Stan had eaten a sandwich or something of the sort. And she was partially right. But the news had nothing to do with sandwiches at all. They were more like Sebastian Stan having a date with some mystery woman. For the twits that Taylor could read, there were hundreds of young women thinking that this was an absolute catastrophe. Taylor wanted to laugh. How could they be so silly? It wasn't as if they could date the guy themselves any time soon. Her expression changed when she remembered that Amanda was one of those people who was going to mourn the fact that Sebastian Stan had a girlfriend. ''Why do you have that face?'' Amanda asked with a bit of suspicion. ''Nothing''. Unfortunately Taylor couldn't act or lie decently. Amanda took the phone out of her hands and glanced at the screen. Taylor got ready for any dramatic outburst Amanda may have but it never came. Taylor wondered what was happening. ''So, are you going to say something?'' ''No, why?'' Amanda looked genuinely confused. ''I mean, your celebrity crush has a girlfriend...'' ''And?'' Amanda's voice wasn't even harsh or resigned. It was just indifferent. ''Are you taking me as one of those people who send hate or believe that they may have a chance with him. Let's be realistic, Taylor. That's never going to happen. Now, I have to focus in the audition if I want to succeed in something.'' This was so unlike Amanda that it scared Taylor a little. Where was the obsessive and attached Amanda? Maybe she was too absorbed in nailing her audition. ''This doesn't sound like you. I thought you were part of the 'Let me have your children, Sebastian' club.'' Amanda let the script apart and looked at her friend. ''Really, Taylor? You think that low of me? I'm a professional actress that worked with Ian McKellen. Do you think my biggest concern in this life is having Sebastian Stan's children? Not that I could, even if I wanted to.'' she added. Taylor wanted to punch herself in the face. She was scared that she had said something insensible. ''I'm sorry for that. Sometimes I forget because you speak so lightly about your own body that no one can't take you seriously.'' ''Because there's nothing wrong with it. We all should all be proud of our bodies.'' And there was no doubt that Amanda was proud of hers. She loved her pitch black hair, the stunning pair of deep blue eyes (that in a certain angle looked purple), her tiny waist and long legs. ''Yeah, but remember that not everyone looks like you. Your legs age longer than half of my body. Empathy was never your strength, Amanda.'' She just shrugged her shoulders and looked at the time. ''It's ten. We should go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.'' ''Just rest. Don't stay up too late watching Doctor Who, Sherlock, Torchwood or any of those shows you like.'' ''I won't'' and Amanda was telling the truth. Whenever Taylor wanted to stay at the Ward-Prowse house she used Amanda's brother's old room. Clint had moved to Cardiff two years ago, he had a wife and played for Cardiff's top rugby team. It seemed that the Ward-Prowse siblings couldn't conform with a normal life and a normal job, they always had to be in the spotlight. ''Okay, we leave tomorrow at six. Please Amanda, don't look hangover.'' ''Who cares if I do? The audition is not tomorrow. And London is full of people with killer hangovers, I won't be the exception.'' ''Whatever'' Taylor left, leaving Amanda alone. Amanda made sure that Taylor was not coming back, grabbed a pillow and threw it at the picture of Sebastian Stan she had on the wall. ''You... bloody idiot!'' she hissed. She knew she had no absolute right of reacting like this but... she was alone in her room where she could vent out her emotions. ''You were better single why the hell would you need a girlfriend. You killed the magic!'' And it was true. The whole fun of having celebrity crushes was to try to reach the unreachable and making stupid dreams inside your head that were never going to happen. But with a freaking girlfriend in the middle, it was just not the same. Except that if she, Amanda, were the girlfriend. But unfortunately she wasn't. She was stuck in Caernarfon, talking to a picture of him. ''Why I have to be so idiotic?'' she buried his face in the pillow for a little while. ''Just stop with the bullshit, Ward-Prowse. You have a bright future, who cares about Sebastian Stan.'' Then she imagined him dating a little nobody, even less known than she was and her blood boiled. Yes, she could accept him dating Emma Watson or Hayley Atwell or a Victoria's Secret angel. But a nobody? Hell, no. Of course she wasn't entitled to an opinion and she wasn't going to say it out loud anyway. This rant was between her and her room walls. It was useless but who on earth cared. She went to Youtube to watch Beyonce's Hold Up music video. It featured Beyonce with a baseball bat hitting things while singing lyrics like 'What's worse, looking jealous or crazy, jealous or crazy?' . Well, she was both. And also ashamed of herself for pulling this stunt even though no one was there to see it. She kept the song on repeat until she fell asleep. Or maybe she never fell asleep and all the weird stuff that was into her head weren't dreams. Taylor found her at five a.m half asleep and half awake, looking like a zombie. When Amanda noticed her presence she immediately turned off the music. If Taylor found out that Amanda had been listening to Beyonce, she was going to guess what was happening in two seconds. And that was embarrassing as hell. ''I just couldn't sleep. I'm nervous'' she normally hated to admit that she was nervous. But it was better than to admit that she had spent the whole night being a jealous ass bitch. ''I was just listening to some Coldplay. They always calm me down.'' Seconds later Amanda's mum showed up. ''Clint just called me. He has some food to give you before you take the train to London.'' ''We're saved'' said Amanda. ''I really didn't want to eat some cheap cookies from the store. Lila may be a local but at least she can cook'' Lila was Clint's wife, a nice simple girl that Amanda considered a local. In her opinion, the dazzling Clint Ward-Prowse deserved better. But of course she had never voiced her opinions out loud. ''Don't call Lila a local'' her mother reprimanded her. ''Just because she doesn't have the same ambitions as you, doesn't make her less of a person. You have too much to learn...'' she added when she saw Amanda rolling her eyes. ''Not everyone wants to be a film star and win BAFTAs and cover British Vogue, Amanda.'' But Amanda wasn't listening. She had her mind somewhere else. What if Sebastian Stan's new girlfriend was a similar version of Lila? No, please, no. Anything but a local, please Sebastian, don't be an idiot. ''Amanda!'' Taylor yelled. ''We have to leave.'' Amanda's parents drove them to the station and they immediately caught a train to Cardiff. Cardiff was Amanda's second home. She had stayed there countless of time while attending special drama lessons at the Royal Academy of Music and Drama there. Also, Doctor Who was filmed there and once she had been lucky enough to score a little role in an episode. It was just a couple of lines for one scene but she had met Matt Smith and Karen Gillan that day. In the train, she was swearing to herself that one day she'll be in Cadiff filming Doctor Who again but this time she'd be the Doctor. Fourteenth or Fifteenth Doctor was good to her. Though the window she glanced at the familiar outline of the city of Cardiff. She smiled, forgetting about bloody Sebastian Stan or her ambitions for a second. Sooner than she had wanted, they got to the train station. She immediately spotted Clint standing at the platform. ''Manda! Looking so happy, as always.'' he said with sarcasm, noticing Amanda's expression. ''She didn't sleep'' added Taylor, blushing a little. Yes, she had a boyfriend and he had a wife but Clint Ward-Prowse was still bloody gorgeous. She was a bit taller than his sister and with a thicker complexion. He had the same pitch black hair as Amanda. The main difference between them were the eye colour. Amanda's eyes were dark blue while Clint's icy blue. ''Typical Amanda. Were you watching Doctor Who or Sherlock?'' ''Any of them. And I slept for a couple of hours.'' she lied. Of course that she was not going to admit that she had spent the night listening to Beyonce. ''Whatever'' he rolled his eyes. ''Lila send you this. She couldn't come, for some reason.'' he said with sarcasm. Of course that he was aware the sisters in law weren't the best friends on earth. They were just too different to agree on anything. They all knew that Lila hadn't made that handmade cookies to Amanda. They were for Taylor, who in Lila's eyes was a much normal and decent person than her sister in law. But Clint was never in a million years going to side against his little sister. Amanda had been the jewel of the family since she was born and this was not going to change. ''We have to leave.'' she hugged her brother tightly. Next time you see me I'll be a RADA alumni. Keep the faith.'' ''I'll never lose faith in you. You're the star of the family. Now go. Bye Taylor, take care of her.'' ''Of course.'' Clint had always been overprotective of Amanda. When they were kids he was her personal bodyguard. He was never going to stop caring about his little sister. ''Amanda, this is the first step to stardom, don't forget it.'' She smiled with confidence before getting lost into the crowd.

P.S. Here we have Amanda being the dramatic fuck she is.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #marvel #mcu #what the hell i'm doing with my life #bucky barnes #seb is my sunshine

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the-detectives-blogger · 6 years

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I’m really...fucking upset, and I”m honestly not sure where to rant about this, so I’ll just rant about it here, and hope that somebody hears me, someone listens.

So I’m in a bunch of Facebook groups, mainly for the memes and the amusing tagging that goes on. I don’t participate except in a select few - and I mean a really select few, ones where I feel safe contributing at all. Mainly Jewish groups actually, with other Jewish women in them, talking about our lives, worries, politics, tips for making challah bread, prayers for each other. It’s really nice. <3

The other groups, the meme groups, there’s a lot of bullies in there, I don’t mind having them for tagging purposes but I’ve been doxxed online before and it nearly killed me. I mean that literally, I fell into such a deep dark hole of...uber depression...didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t move, not for months. It was bad. It was really, really, really fucking bad. And I get triggered easily about it. Less easily now, thank God, baruch Hashem, it’s been a few years, but it’s not the type of thing you ever really forget. When the internet trolls rip out your heart and post it everywhere for all to see, with your face and your full name, calling you a cunt and a weeaboo and - it was bad.

Anyway.

So I don’t participate in the bullying/memeing groups. But I’m on steroids this week, because I have chronic sciatica pain - the sciatica nerve is the one at the base of your spine, and for people like me for whom it’s pinched, it flares up and the pain is indescribable. A lot of the pain comes from inflammation and OTC meds weren’t cutting it so my very helpful doctor put me on steroids to kill the inflammation. Which is working, yay! But the steroids, being steroids, lol, are definitely also making me more aggressive than usual and more prone to snap, less patient. I’m doing my best with it but it’s steroids, they do what they do in my body, my brain.

All this brings us to last night. I was kind of out of my mind on the nightly steroid dose, browsing Facebook, and I come across a post. The group is a bisexuality-focused group, an identity I..identify with, lol. I have to paraphrase this since I didn’t grab screenshots, but as best I can remember it:

OP: Real talk. Can we talk about how WEIRD it is that some people are only attracted to ONE GENDER?! Like??? Look at Blake Lively. Look at Robert Downey Jr. Are you honestly telling me you wouldn’t fuck them both given the chance??? Poster 1: This is uh - this is kind of homophobic? Aren’t you erasing the identities and experiences of lesbians and gay men? They have to struggle hard to be accepted as well. OP: Psh NO, are you serious rn?? Are you saying I’m heterophobic which doesn’t exist lmao??? Poster 1: No, I’m saying you’re being homophobic, like, gay men also exist and shouldn’t be forced to be into women if they’re not. OP: Well if you’re offended, I’m sorry, but you’re choosing to feel that way. That’s on you. If you choose to see that in what I wrote, I can’t help that, if you’re offended. Me: Uh. Look, I don’t know if I want to get involved in the rest of the debate here but saying “I’m sorry if you’re offended” is an abuse tactic. You’re victim blaming Poster 1, saying that it’s on them if you hurt them...it’s not. It’s on you. Don’t victim blame people, that’s super not okay. OP: I didn’t say ‘I’m sorry if you’re offended’ I said ‘If you’re offended, I’m sorry’. Huge difference. Me: There is literally no difference. OP: There is a massive difference. Admin flying in: Nobody’s victim blaming :[. [OP puts a ‘love’ react on this post because now they feel supported by authority...in their fucking victim blaming and abuse tactics.] OP: I just said people can be bisexual. Admin: Yeah I’m not going to prevent people talking about bisexuality in a bisexuality group. Me: This has nothing to do with the sexualities in question, it’s a question of how we’re talking to one another, treating one another, and of mental illness questions. You were victim blaming OP, and if you’re offended, that’s on you. :) OP: I wasn’t victim blaming tho. Admin: like this is a bisexual group and we’re here to talk about being bisexual [OP+admin are at this point ‘loving’ each other’s fucking posts ove rand over and over again, supporting each other and growing FUCKING stronger, making me feel more and more alone and backed into a goddamn corner] Me: Okay. Whatever. I fucking give up. I’m not going to fight you, OP. You did a bad thing but if you don’t want to own it, that’s on you. You still have to treat people well regardless of their sexuality. have a good night. The fucking thread proceeded without me. I deleted my comments, super done and not wanting to be doxxed again, thinking, like, this is why I don’t fucking get involved, it never fucking works, standing up for the fucking little guy doesn’t work, standing up for people’s rights not to be FUCKING ABUSED doesn’t work, let alone her extremely clear homophobia, but The Admin Has Spoken so clearly I lose. If Authority is against you it’s hard to fucking win.

I messaged that admin just asked if she could take down the comments where my name is tagged; I deleted the ones I posted but I don’t want my name on this bullshit anymore.

Woke up this morning. Not only have I been booted and blocked from the fucking group, the admin wrote me back to say “I'm fine with editing it out of my comments, I'm not deleting everyones because they tagged you. I will let them know you are requesting and why.”

BITCH

THAT STILL

INVOLVES

MY FUCKING

NAME

YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING BLOODY MORON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So not only am I now having a fucking triggered fucking panic attack BECAUSE OF FUCKING YOU, because you don’t care about mental illness or triggers or abuse or PTSD, just about your little meme group, I can’t do anything about it or see it, you’ve made me fucking powerless by banning me from the group YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FIRST Of ALL, YES that girl was being fucking homophboic. Okay??? Saying “omg other sexualities are so weird” isn’t HEPLFUL, it isn’t KIND or COMPASSIONATE or UNDERSTANDING. Straight people and gay people and lesbians really! do! exist! and are only attracted to one gender. Bisexual people also really! do! exist! and are attracted to multiple genders. But nobody gets to say that the other sexualities are fucking ‘weird’ or unacceptable in any way.

SECONDLY, if you don’t keep in fucking mind the way you’re fucking speaking to people while you’re doing leftist shit, fuck you. Intersectionality says that we all exist as multiple identities all at once, we’re not just one thing or the other, o fucking kay? I am not merely bisexula, I’m also an abuse survivor, a PTSD sufferer, depression and anxiety and physical disability. For fuck’s sake. MY SEXUALITY IS NOT THE ONLY ASPECT OF MY IDENTITY THAT MATTERS. YOU COCK.

And if you’re triggering me it’s the part of my identity that suddenly matters least, because you’re triggering the parts of me that will take over the others, so FUCK YOU, YOU ABSOLUITE WANKER ASSHOLE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCKYOUFUCK YOU FUC YOU FYCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay. I just...I just needed to fucking vent. Jesus bloody christ.

We cannot exist in leftist circles and spaces without keeping in mind how we speak to people, how we treat people. We cannot call ourselves leftists, liberal, if we trade in compassion for sexual identity. You do not get to check your humanity at the door when you pick up a bisexual pride flag. You do not get to leave your understanding behind. And I will call you on it forever, and ever, and ever, because I do not hold with hypocrites, or abusers, no matter what flag they fly.

#ooc #rant

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compunctionjunction · 8 years

Text

11 facts about me

i was tagged by @1of1prism to post 11 facts abt me!!! thank you <3

(sophie i literally copy and paste ur old posts into my new posts so I’m probably gonna copy some of ur facts whoops)

1. hi my name is marina ((but that’s in my basic blog description so i’m gonna pull a sophie and give u 2 facts in one thing even though it’s CHEATING)) and I am...... a millennial sjw ...............smh millenials..............,,,,,,,,,,,,

2. I’m at uni and i study social justice stuff and also geography (migration...immigration.....urban planning....) and I’m pretty good at writing essays but i procrastinate like nobody’s business lol (yikes!!!) and i like to read (which i guess is good cause i probably have 200 pages a week!! not including when i have to read (a) whole book(s) ie english!)

3. I’m not like a masterchef but I can do a recipe i’ve never done before and generally have it turn out pretty good which is apparently impressive to some? i like baking with friends as a fun thing to do but I’m also really controlling in the kitchen so it’s probably not that fun after all LOL

4. I’m allergic to almost everything lol. including:

dogs, cats, any furry animal that exists

birds and feathers

dust, mould, etc

trees and grass,

some random medicine i dont know the name of (i didnt know this until like last year cause i went to emerg but ya thats a thing it apparently gives me a rash)

5. i’m an anxious bean but like under really like......inconsistent (?) circumstances? or more like uh....non-.......whats the word like when it doesn’t match what your brain thinks something it would be (WHATEVER) anyway like yesterday I almost cried cause i didn’t understand a card game but one time when i was a kid my little bro had a seizure and my parents had to rush him to the hospital and we had to call my grandma to come over, and like my sister was all !!!!!!??? boo hoo hoo and i was all like “gimme the phone i’ll do it”. like sometimes i keep a very cool head in situations you wouldn’t think i would and sometimes im a mess in a situation u’d think i wouldn’t be u know what i’m trying to say

6. I really like music but i’m not like that Musical Person friend. Like I listen to a lot of music of a bunch of different genres and time periods and in elementary/high school I played the trumpet (i also did piano and euphonium but like if u gave me one of those now I wouldn’t be able to do much with it whereas if u gave me a trumpet.....man). I really like acoustic songs, and songs with violins and saxophones in it, HARMONIES, songs where people’s voices go really “raw” sounding, songs where people’s voices have that like “radio voice” filter, songs that start off kinda soft and then BUILD!!!!!, and songs that have a bunch of different parts all doing their own thing but then they all come together for this multilayered goodness!!!!!. If anyone other than John or Sophie is reading this (bless your soul if so) and if u have song recs for me, like, lay them on me i always need new music

7. I don’t get a lot of mainstream references but I have a weird um...pool of reference material that I can pull from?? like i’m not like That Guy who’s like rly obnoxious always talking abt those obscure movies but my parents are both like from drama stuff and like movies/shows and are also huge nerds so i’ve seen like a wide array of genre-d stuff. plus i took a film course so i’m basically an expert. did you know that plot and story are two different things? Story is whe---

8. My family’s kinda complicated. (wow i sound like an emo blog in 2006 but i just didnt want to start another long rambley sentence so here we are) My mom’s side is italian and my dad’s side is british so my italian relatives weren’t too happy abt that (i just learned this the other day but apparently at their wedding my moms uncle [who’s a dick] was saying something inappropriate to my dad, who was like “uhhhh...” and then her other uncle was like ‘ay! tony! leave the asshole alone!’ LOL) and then the british side is full of drama and alcoholics lol. and then the communication in my like... regular fam is a bit bad lol ((also i have like......30+ cousins, (20ish regular and a shit ton distant but less that i actually know) and yet we keep in contact with each other so what a weird ironic twist that is eh))

9. I can like kind of swim but I also like can’t swim cause I don’t float even though everyones like “ya u do!! people float” i just sink down lol. tho i’m kind of practicing a bit every summer at my friend’s house. i also like to pretend that it’s because of childhood trauma cause i had swimming lessons on two (2) different occasions and they were both awful

when i was like 6 , and i refused to put my face in the water so my instructor was like “Right!” and shoved my head under lol!

when i was like 10 and i was embarrassed enough being like an older kid learning like... level 1 swimming right before these like 5 year olds who were doing the same thing (also in retrospect my instructors were only like 16 im pretty sure, like they seemed rly old to 10 year old me but they were really young lol) and the same thing happened as the other one except with diving lol. like i didn’t want to jump off the deep end and sometimes i would do it myself but at least once this girl pushed me in (basically every time either way they had to pull me up from the bottom which was kinda useless like if ur gonna teach me to dive whats the point if u dont teach me to come up from a dive right?? right)

10. I’m kinda quiet and shy but when I have the chance and am comfortable i go on HUGE rants and also go off on like 12 different tangents while trying to tell a story. like you could probably figure out this about me by reading this post but i just wanna let you know this isn’t a one-off thing just because it’s a Fact Post like i do this in real life and the way i talk is probably just as broken up and confusing as how i type!!! ahhaah

11. I used to be a hater but now I’m like actively trying to not be a hater cause hating on stuff for no reason is boring and liking stuff is fun (tho it’s harder in person cause i’m really sarcastic and pessimistic and i literally can’t stop complaining about things). Some things I stopped hating on recently:

Aesthetic things that are like “basic”/”simple” (i have an aesthetic blog now! who knew!) like pictures of like......curtains?? i used to be like “wow thats dumb” but man textures and also the weird mood that’s connected with your aesthetic it’s so calming

K-pop LOL :)

Honestly?? memes.

Boys apparently??? I dunno how true that is but @1of1prism knows me better than I know myself most of the time (but i still dont give 2 shits abt boys)

fanning over stuff in general tbh like.... enjoy things

people in a judgemental sense (im working on it....)

Intrigued by this post? Interested in my life? Check out my /tagged/about! Follow me on tumblr for more quality content!

(Jesus i’m done this legitimately took an hour)

i tag @purewhiteflames as well and i also tag @nuliflyer just to ruin ur “i’ve only been tagged once” so ha ha

#tag game #about #marinapleasecontinue

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grizzlefur · 7 years

Text

WWEm - A Facekick Says a Thousand Words

Welcome back to WWEm. Just to remind you, this is my daughter Emma (hence the amazing pun in the title) watching WWE matches and commenting on them. At length. With swear words. You can also catch her on Twitter as @Waruce, although this is usually during a PPV.

Transmission dates: 21/22 August 2017

Guess who's back

back again

daniel's back

(also em)

yeah, i've been sitting on that intro for a while

but yes, i am returned from the abyss of doing other things

so it feels like a good time for some MONDAY AFTERNOON RAW!

(i said i was caught up, not punctual)

so yeah, this is summerslam go-home week

if you didn't watch summerslam, it was p good

and none of this will make sense to you

opening with paul and brock, just to remind us all that bouncy mcdickchest is still champion

except you can't see the dickchestiness because he's wearing an ugly merch vest

and trousers, which looks really weird on brock

the man should not wear human clothes

while he bounces in the ring, enjoy this slideshow from sunday

including braun killing brock with all tables available, which was fucking hilarious

but hey, at least roman got pinned

audience response to brock is mixed, but everyone loves a suplex city chant

paul begins to talk, we all drown in smug

it always makes me laugh when paul insists on "undisputed", when every fucker's challenging for it

and he wants us to see a ppv match as some kind of assault orchestrated by a shadowy conspiracy

if the best shadowy machination you can come up with is to give someone a marquee match at the second biggest ppv of the year, you need your shadowy conspiracy card revoked

paul is somehow managing to spin brock as some kind of heroic underdog

i like my underdogs STANDING THE FUCK STILL

paul mentions the fact that brock pinned roman, biggest pop yet

we can all unite under the banner of 'fuck that guy'

paul mentions ufc, enjoy that legal action

at least paul manages to get through his spiel before BRAAAAAAAAAAAAUN

he's a sadistci giant, but at least he's polite

and the crowd love him even more than brock

goes for a chokeslam, then just kicks him in the face and powerslams him instead

a facekick says a thousand words

entire wwe universe put on notice, take a really big shot

by which i mean like a box of wine

and now this tangent has made me imagine a wine bong

braun dramatically lifts the belt, but stomps off without it

still so respectful

brock lies in the ring, swears directly into the camera

keep it classy, dude

up next, enzo/cass in a street fight

after this myc advert

ooh, the first episodes should be out today

gonna watch the shit out of that

also before we do anything, have a mania-style slideshow with a fuck-off huge black bar at the bottom for whatever reason

slideshow of summerslam, to clarify

not just vince's holiday pics

aaaaaaaand i'm back to ew

image of the day: vince mcmahon bonging a box of wine

and now we get an announce team recap of brock/braun from five fucking minutes ago

finally on to the next segment, here's cass

and i still dislike that they changed his music again

this is super generic

i liked the weird-ass electronica he had going on before

why the fuck did i say electronica there?

industrial

i am so on form

and now this slideshow reminds me that enzo taking his clothes off and buttering himself out of a shark cage wasn't some kind of fever dream

the fuck was that match about

and here comes enzo

does his intro, cass stands in the ring smirking like the fuck is up with this guy

enzo starts a diss track on cass having an education, for some reason

by contrast, enzo claims he grauduated "magnum come larder" from the school of hard knocks

here comes the bit where enzo waxes lyrical about their youth together

daniel, cue the soft-focus flashback

enzo says this is where the story ends, which is good because it can't go to much more

enzo leaves, then returns with a shopping trolley full of random objects

cass comes up the ramp as enzo ineffectually throws things at him, ref goes fuck it and rings the bell

enzo tries to kendo stick cass, gets the shit beaten out of him in return

yeah, like i say, we don't need more on this angle of 'cass beats small man into paté'

back in the ring, cass gives enzo a chair like he's bray wyatt or something

enzo gets up, kick to the face

coming back from the break, enzo is still dying on the floor

important ad break recaps of enzo getting beaten to shit

enzo crawls for the chair, cass kicks him to death, repeat

asshole chants predominate

corey drops a martin shkreli reference, cos that's just how he rolls

enzo bullfights cass out of the ring, because we need some kind of futile hope spot

dramatic crawl to the chair, just as he gets it cass stomps on it with his hand in

that spot was cool when cedric alexander did it

cass is, however, selling a leg injury from the spill to the outside enormously hard

calls for a medic, ref throws the x as enzo flails with the chair as the ref gives zero fucks

slomo replay of him hitting the outside

nasty bump, but that injury feels really worked

enzo dances with a fan, end thing

later tonight, sasha turns up

and here's a slideshow of people tweeting about her

but now here's emma, who's pissed about sasha being alive and her not getting the title shot

berating dana for everything being her fault

starts badmouthing nia, who is of course right behind her

they've got a match next

nia is unimpressed

but first, an ad for tomorrow night's smackdown in the aftermath of shane being laughably unqualified to be a ref

but now, here's nia

she's not like most internalised misogyny

nia really needs to work out what ring poses she's going for in her entrance and commit

seems super halfhearted

but here's emma, so i'm happy with the music

tbh, i love both of these

emma starts on the offence, nia is just like what are you trying to achieve

corey calls booker out on saying things that don't make sense, distracting the announce team from calling nia pinning emma

well that happened

up next, elias [SURNAME]

which cole is unreasonably excited about

and here he strums

why did he fucking lose his last name and nickname at the same time

now his intro just has his one-word name three times

apparently he stared into the eclipse and now can see everything so incredibly clearly

is elias samson a superhero

says he has a song about r-truth, starts doing an acoustic version of his rap before giving up and doing his trademark country-styled smack talk

berates the crowd for clapping along

he clearly has so much fun with this role

and here's truth

great

real top of the card angle right here

cole berates booker for not using his mic correctly

seriously, announce crosstalk seems to be the flavour of the night

almost talk over the pin again

quick win for elias

cole loves elias, booker likes truth, corey's just like fuck both these assholes

christ, i forgot the shie were tag champs

up next, kurt angle has yet another announcement for us

some of these slideshow shots are p great

credit to the staff photographers

but here comes an olympic hero, luxuriating in thousands of people lovingly telling him he sucks

apparently he has a surprise for us

on "the monday night raw"

oh, it's just cena

that could be more surprising tbh

with the whole free agent thing, i'm waiting for him to turn up on nxt

and have sanity eat his heart

booker calls him a prime time player

i feel titus worldwide might have something to say about this

cena commences to work the crowd like a champ

is there such a thing as crowdworkrate?

this is the most disorganised crowd

can't even lining up duelling cena chants

he calls the crowd out on booing at super illogical places

apparently he's here to get face to face with a certaint [sic] wwe superstar

here comes roman

i want cena to just be like no, i mean brock

fuck off, dude

cole claims it's deafening in the barclays, the crowd are clearly quiet as fuck

half of them clearly can't be bothered to even boo roman

i seriously want there to be a FUCK THAT GUY chant

you both suck chant begins

close enough

aww, roman is who cena wanted

dang

roman commences super lame smack talk

in which he tries to intimidate john fucking cena

cena stands there like do you know who i am

according to the audience, he's the undertaker

get on topic, crowd

cena loses the shirt, faces off, and...here's the miz

has bo stolen ariya daivari's gold jacket

signs point to yes

miz calls the venue "the barsgays"

cena stops him, corrects him, says "Marbles out of mouth, speak. Continue."

i have to pause the show to giggle

i love modern self-aware cena

but seriously, can nobody speak english today

miz commences to run sarcastic hype for this angle

like seriously, do these two need more exposure

says barclays every other sentence to make a point

miz is suddenly the face of the universe

easiest face heat ever, cutting on these two

oh, and here comes miz being angry about having the shittest timeslot at summerslam

really needed addressing

miz unites the crowd in saying fuck cena, he's like welp guess i'll go

miz stops him so he can shout at him for turning his segments into a joke

and now shout at the crowd for being fickle bastards

every time miz mentions his title, bo is standing behind him just pointedly pointing at the belt

and back to miz ranting about the respect he doesn't get

you deserve it chants fill the room

cena's like welp the people have spoken let's do the main event

miz/minion v cena/roman

roman's like um what

miz is like this is not how me getting a moment works

but now, here comes the WOMP

and also its earthly herald, samoa joe

time for some incredibly well-spoken smack

joe's like i support this idea in theory, but i'll be miz's partner because i hate both these tools

talks to roman, predominating chant is you're his bitch

brooklyn keeping it creative

goes to talk to cena, just punches him in the face instead

cue 6-man brawl

in which joe goes for a coquina clutch on cena and roman punches him off

and then long awkward faceoff between cena and roman as the miztourage slink away and joe rants backwards up the ramp

you both suck chants still very much a thing

but now, adverts for sasha, seth and dean all being here tonight

good to know

exterior shot of the barsgays

shockingly, kurt has approved that tag match

and we come back from the break into an 8-man cruiserweight tag, because fuck giving that division room to breathe

dar/nese/gulak/daivari v ali/alexander/swann/metalik

i do love metalik's slingshot arm drag thing

and ali's...well, everything

daivari goes for a hot tag to noam, he's just like nah you're alright mate

so tony nese comes in instead to play the ab counting game

the crowd are far more interested in their mexican wave than this match

fuck you, brooklyn

cole references tony nese's 12-pack, because apparently he slept through the counting game

thank you, corey

and lumbar check to nese for the pin

good match, but clearly nobody in brooklyn gave a shit

still a great finisher

i love that the replays don't have to fuck with the video speed, because it is as brutal as it looks

but now, here's charly with neville

who has regained the ability to focus on objects now he's got his shiny belt back

oh, but not while he's talking

some good middle-distance work there

calls tozawa a pathetic japanese punk and titus a flesh-eating parasite

seems a little over

starts telling us that there's a word for people like that where he comes from, tails off before he can tell us what it is

the suspense

titus and tozawa turn up, challenge for a rematch, leave

up next, the shie

after this slideshow

and this scene of kurt and his son

jj wants a match

with more than a dozen people watching this time

he wants finn

i approve, kurt does under suffrance

but now, the tag champs

they enter separately, no shield entrance yet

BURN IT DOWWWWWWWWN is very over

so are these guys in general

they're getting very philosophical about their reunion and the nature of friendship and belief

and seth invites all of brooklyn to a party

that seems impractical

they call out a challenger, brooklyn starts the delete chant even before the music drops

nobody loves this music more than jeff

matt kicks off with a creepy goat laugh

as you do

they congratulate seth and dean, do enough broken stuff to stay the most over people in the ring

they challenge for a match, seth is just like wow we're huge fans

matt's accent is slowly slipping back

they call for a ref, this is apparently a thing

so of course, this is where we break for a smackdown advert

and we come back as the bell rings

cole takes four tries to say the word 'seriousness’

professional

shot of the kkb watching this match in their massive army jackets

guys, you're not actually in this match, you could maybe wear real clothes and sit the hell down

seth and dean do a baseball slide/frog splash combo like fuck you street profits

matt does a dropkick through the ropes with no exit strategy, briefly tangles himself in them

some hot tags later, we've got matt and dean matching each other shamble for shamble

matt throws dean and seth out of the ring, tags jeff for poetry in motion over the ropes

dean pulls seth out of the way of a whisper in the wind, jeff has the ugliest landing

dean gets jeff in a weird leg trap anaconda vice thing, because that's apparently a move he does

and now just starts repeatedly throwing seth at jeff

shockingly, the third one ends poorly

jeff 'lands' a whisper in the wind, mostly just kills himself

matt does the turnbuckle mash/bulldog thing, even corey makes a broken reference

blind tag lets seth and dean do a really nice spinebuster/sling blade combo for a nearfall

throw both hardyz out of the ring, then suicide dive them both, because apparently jeff's jumpoffallthethingsitis is contagious

matt spinebusts seth on the apron, outsmarts dean by having ever watched one of his matches

at least until dean crotches him on the top rope

goes for dirty deeds off the top rope, the announce team get too excited

blind tag lets the hardyz set up for a swanton

dean gets the knees up, which seems dangerous as fuck

and kingslayer into dirty deeds for the pin

pan out to the kkb like how the fuck did they do that what's the deal with these shitweasels

and now let's have another recap of brock from earlier

because we needed to see him again

what am i saying, we get to see braun kill him again

makes me giggle

oh, first confirmed match for no mercy

brock/braun for the title

shock

actually, i think the first match was that advert vs all our minds

but now, we're backstage with the miztourage and samoa joe with a towel on his head

miz congratulates joe on joining the miztourage

joe is not impressed

shuts miz up, establishes a very loud game plan

tells miz to "do...that annoying unorthodox thing you do in the ring"

hey, anyone want an ad for season 2 of total bellas

well, you're getting it anyway

wait, you can't see this

it's just me being subjected to it

dang

another myc advert

so hype

but now we have sasha

as promised, she is indeed in this ring

well, she's in the building

god, i'd forgotten her dilophosaurus coat from summerslam

was not the best look

thankfully, she's back to real clothes

gets ambivalent cheers for being from boston but somehow having become a brooklyn homegirl

does a brief tribute to ric

i'm amazed it took us until the thrid hour of the show to get one

weird glitch in the video where sasha briefly turned into finn bálor and jason jordan

unconventional angle

but now we're back, and here's alexa to interrupt

and be smug despite having lost

cool jacket though

calls sasha out on the fact that she has never been able to defend the belt

sasha wants her to do her rematch now

seems unlikely

oh hey, she said no

because brooklyn don't deserve it

but we're having it next week

wherever we are next week should be grateful

oh, memphis

apparently they deserve it

i'd love to see alexa's criteria

but now, here comes jason

to a very slight remix of his shitty music

new tron, but that was hardly the problem

this version sounds like it was played on actual instruments

slideshow time again

reminding us all how awesome shinsuke's violinist is

but now, here's finn

back in human form

not that i'm complaining

does the arms

bell rings, commence some of the fastest chain wrestling you've ever seen

apart from you, dude who watches njpw matches at double speed on youtube

i see you

jason goes for the handshake, finn kicks him in the gut

makes sense, tbf

this crowd is so fucking cold for like the last hour and a half

what's up, brooklyn

did you all come to takeover and summerslam and now you need sleep

i like to think that people just live in their seats in the barsgays for four days

jj has turned serious thanks to finn's ungentlemanly conduct

gets finn in his butterfly lock for a while, which as always looks like he's really obviously not pulling as hard as he can cos he could probably dislocate someone's shoulders quite easily if he wanted to

finn appeals to his club peeps, uses their power to kick a dude in the head a bunch

p sure i've seen that anime

are the crowd doing a fucking beachball chant again

someone get cesaro

and also a new audience

straps come down, finn does a really nice powerslam counter, gets punched in the head, pele kick to down both of them

so jj just picks finn up and starts running him into all the corners

slingblade into a really ugly corner dropkick

people need to stop standing so far from the corner

and coup de grace for the pin, because while we might be pushing jj, it's not to the extent where he can actually get a win

but next, main event time

after this trailer for birth of the dragon

which i hear is racially tone-deaf as fuck

i mean, i have no more information than that, but it's a wwe production, so i kind of assume it's racist unless i hear otherwise

and yet another smackdown ad

and one for the women's title match next week and the cruiserweight title match on 205

but after allllllll that, here's the miz

and this brooklyn crowd, like so many crowds, has no idea of the timing to miz's intro

apparently miz caused chris pratt and anna faris to break up

huge if true

and enter 120% of your daily WOMP

and a cena

corey's excited because apparently he's never called a cena match before

doesn't seem like such an achievement

the announce team finally tell ric to get well

boos erupt even before roman's entrance starts

oh, so now you wake up

match starts in the advert break, cos eh

it's not like this match is going to be particularly scintillating

cena is actually shouting at the crowd about the beachball

gets asshole chants, corey shouts "Lazarus is risen from the dead!"

sure, why not

it's one of those episodes

oh, and now we're doing the wave again

announce team like lol, fans are having fun

but they're also not watching the fucking match

cena keeps getting distracted playing with the crowd

miz gets the opportunity for a finale, cena sells it as well as he does anything

joe tags in to just punch john in the face a bunch

miz gets a nearfall off the fluffiest top rope axe handle you've ever seen

and crotches himself when cena dodges a bronco buster

does miz even usually do bronco busters?

or was that just added for the comedy crotch pain spot

(i'm going for the latter)

roman goes for a superman punch, joe counters into an uranage because roman runs at approximatel 0.003 mph

miz gets roman out of the ring, distracts the ref as bo punches him

if you're getting taken out by a clothesline by bo dallas, you should maybe reconsider your career choices

joe gets roman in a trap claw that's less a rest hold than a hiatus hold

i lookd away for a second, so apparently joe has magically transformed into miz

cena hot tags in, does his five moves

so joe just stands in the way of the 5ks setup

roman tries to intervene, accidentally superman punches cena

and this is how friendship ends

acquaintanceship, at least

miz spends forever setting up for a finale on cena, cena just refuses and hits an aa for a win

because, as ever

cena celebrates, he and roman regard each other with no small amount of disharmony

apparently roman apologised

i didn't see it

and we fade on those two bro-ing in the ring

but hey, seeing as i'm actually here for the first time in a while, why not keep rolling a MONDAY AFTERNOON SMACKDOWN!?

daniel has just held up a sign in response to that

it just says BECAUSE BEARS.

...

well, i'm going to take that risk

he's flipped the sign, and the other side says BEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAARS.

i really need to have a talk with my staff sometime

and also maybe bearproof the office

ah well

problems for future em right there

for now, roll the tape

opening with a flashback of tozawa/neville, for some reason

neither of these are on this show

i am confuse

well there's your problem

that was actually the next episode of 205 live

excuse our slight technical problems

daaaaaaanieeeeeeeeel

right, take 2

oh hey, it's opening on a recap of summerslam stuff from smackdown

funny how that works

currently aj/kevin

and now we're live

and they don't want none

still in the barsgays, for the record

hopefully this crowd is better

so yeah, here's the us belt and ts lovely hair

also a human attached to these things

jbl approves of shane's refereeing, so you know it was bad

apparently aj built the barsgays

funny how often that happens

aj's bringing back the us open challenge

stating. right. NOW.

so here's kevin

i can't help but feel this booking misses the point of an open challenge a bit

aj's just like nope we did this already fuck off

kevin refuses to believe aj beat him at slam

claiming it's some kind of twenty years later brooklyn screwjob

here comes the money to offer a counterargument

and also the man carrying it

i like to think his gear always has a few bucks in it just so his music is true

shane like hmm, i could address this situation between my employees or i could spend some time going for cheap pops first

(spoiler: it's the latter again)

shockingly, shane's angle is that he did it fine

kevin touches on the fact that shane had a helicopter crash and jumps off buildings but got taken out by the edge of a 450

but his real grievance is that shane counted 3 before calling off the pin

he has video and everything

pointing out the fact that referees fuck up counts all the time but it still counts

it's cute how we're trying to bring logic into wrestling

shane disagrees, kevin immediately gets all up in his face

he's just turning into some kind of conspiracy nut

aj's like shut up you twat, let's have a match

shane's like this sounds like a terrible idea, but eh, fuck it

kevin wants to pick his own referee for the match

shane disapproves, but aj doesn't give a shit, so we're doing that

but it's kevin's last shot at the belt while aj has it

this angle has been pretty great, but i'm all about going out on top

but now, here's bryan on the phone

alluding to a couple big surprises

suspensssssse

here come the singhs to announce their emeperor

and jinder's here to be like thanks for inviting me daniel i accept your worship

bryan's like um no

instead, he's giving shinsuke a match against the singhs to get some revenge

and immediately end segment

bit weird

later, we have becky/naomi v carmella/nattie

but first, watch our bruce lee film

and this slideshow of summerslam

they are trying so hard to make it mania part 2

but now, backstage, kevin has approached sami, of all people

like sure i've been the worst friend possible, but i can trust you to be my ref, right?

sami responds by plugging his dvd

kevin's like i know you're free because you do fuck-all on this show, so help a brother out?

walks off as sami's like wtf just happened

back in the ring, aiden english calls for his spotlight and treats us to them pipes

lights cut halfway through 'drama king', and enter a very familiar e-flat chord

and the beautifully-robed man who comes with it

so yes, bobby roode is on smackdown now, and this is like the one thing i had spoiled

but to be fair, it's not like there was much left for him to do in nxt

and this should be good if they make it a feud

maximum theatricality

the brooklyn crowd are so down with it

roode does the glorious arms, aiden protests, gets punched out of the ring

one advert break later, this is turning out to be a decent match

jbl makes a beer money reference, call the lawyers

who am i kidding, anthem's lawyers are all busy with the matt hardy situation

aiden pulls out all his signature moves, bobby doesn't give a cumulative shit

and glorious ddt for the pin

and here's renee for a post-match interview thing

bobby immediately nearly punches her in the face

and opens by congratulating shane and bryan for hiring him

and basically catches the casuals up on what a tool he is

and they play glorious domination again because everyone loves that track

and now for more slideshows

including one they got from somebody's phone

class

and now, chad's in with bryan

and he's like hey i've got you a new tag team partner

and it's shelton benjamin

so, yknow, basically the same partner

and chad starts doing his old-school clingy enthusiasm thing

and now we're backstage

kevin gives sami a ref shirt, and he's like well i thought it over and i came to the realisation that i hate you go die in a fire

d'awwwwww

but now, here are the hype bros

fighting the usos, apparently

and here they are with their new belts

and their intro music, which i swear is gaining more rap every week

recap of their match on sunday, which was fucking great

best match on the show by miles, despite not technically being on the show

match starts, mojo surprisingly thinks the usos ain't hype

mojo dodges a stinger splash, lets jimmy just smash his own face into the corner

hot tag to zack, bringing some technique to match the enthusiasm

the moment the usos leave the ring, mojo barrels out of fucking nowhere to take one out

but jimmy still superkicks zack for the pin

and now he has some things to say

and jey has a speech about paranoia

is this entire gimmick based around minority-targeted prison violence?

(sources say yes)

but now shinsuke's walking around backstage, doing his octopus arms anyway because why the fuck not i'm shinsuke nakamura

SLIDESHOW TIME

and here he is

sadly, no live violin

which i'm now reading like 'living violin'

and imagining he has some kind of animated violin following him around to do his music

maybe it's true

maybe the legendary violinist is just a projection, and the violin itself is the true life form

why yes, i have been watching a lot of steven universe

what of it

but now, here are the singhs, who've brought their boss to introduce, presumably because they wouldn't have their own entrance otherwise

but hey, i love jinder's music, so i'm not complaining

while he comes in, have this slideshow of his match with shinsuke on sunday

commence match

which apparently will have both singhs in the ring at the same time

thanks for establishing these rules 15 seconds after the bell rings

and they're not even in ring gear

so what the fuck

shinsuke does good vibrations to both of them at once, makes even less sense than it usually does

likewise his knees to the corner

they get some brief offence off jinder distracting him

doesn't last

rolls one of them into the triangle, he taps before it's even in properly

jinder blindsides him after the bell, shinsuke doesn't give a shit and kinshasas him into a coma

and we return to the saga of kevin nomates

getting pulled over by the fashion police

they want to be his refs even though they're off duty

so they can "make damn sexy zebras"

kevin's like wtf fuck off

baron turns up, offers to do the job in return for having the first title shot if he wins

hope that shirt's an extra large

but up next, the women's match

after the myc ad again

so yeah, here's nattie

who i had completely forgotten was champion

and as a special reward, she gets to wear a jacket

fringed epaulettes and everything

i kind of approve

she will be a relatively-benevolent dictator

she's not disabusing me of this image with this speech

promising to return honour (cos she's canadian) and dignity to the division

and here are carmellsworth

james like grats nattie you finally won a thing after the age of the universe

and carmella's here to be like hey i have a suitcase just sayin

carmella's also got a nice new jacket, but she's also changed to a singlet and it looks super 80s and not great

ellsworth like hey can you even trust carmella she might just not tag in and let you get beaten up so she can cash in on you

carmella's like shut uppppppp you moron

but here's becky

no new jacket there, but i love her existing one, so yeah

and naomi in her awesome led fur coat

it's basically too hot for clothes here rn, but i would still wear that 24/7

match starts, i am just distracted by how much carmella looks like she's come in off the set of season 2 of GLOW

carmella taunts naomi a bit, then just tags nattie in

funny how that works

nattie beats on becky for a while, then goes for the tag as carmella 'slips' off the apron

and just lurks outside like go on nattie you got this you're awesome

naomi manages to tag in off carmella dicking around, nearly gets nattie to tap

nattie tags carmella in while she's distracted by her best guy, she then takes a bexploder and a split moonsault for the pin

oh no, our dastardly plan failed because we just generally kind of sucked

the graphic for the main event looks really dumb, cos they've clearly just photoshopped a ref shirt onto an existing graphic of baron

while they were booking this show, could they not have spared five minutes to give him a shirt and get a picture

anyway

here's dasha

reintroducing us to the long-absent dolph ziggler

who's like thanks it's great to be back here reintroducing myself to the fans in this crappy backstage interview thanks a lot

and goes on a tirade about how it's all about the gimmicks these days and he finally understands what it takes to be a wwe star

but now, lana continues to disappoint tamina

she's set up a route to the title starting next week

tamina's like fucking hell what about this week

lana avoids just saying yeah, they've already had one women's match today

instead leads her in a guided meditation on rage and resentment

during which her accent spans basically the entire northern hemisphere

now backstage with aj

and here comes baron in his ref vest

just to tell aj about the deal

aj's lik well, if i win there'll be an open challenge every week, so shrug

so that match is now

here comes ref!baron, with his new intro that i still don't quite get

it's like he's joining the ascension

which, on reflection, would be pretty great

king of trios 2018 confirmed

and yeah, here's kevin

and once again, they continue not to want none

aj hands baron the belt to do the ref thing, i'm honestly surprised he didn't run off with it

bell rings, kevin immediately leaves the ring

aj complains to the ref, who's like whatever man i don't give a fuck

i kind of love the fact that baron's wearing the ref vest as well as his wasteland bondage tights

i can't express in text how dumb he looks

pause for advert for next week's raw

and by 'next week', i do of course mean tonight

but hey, this blog has always had a somewhat spongey relationship with time

speaking of time and sponginess, this match is so fucking slow

like, there've been a couple of good spots, but they generally both look like they're still not over sunday

naturally, aj speeds up significantly as i type that

or maybe the video glitched

who can say

ushigoroshi into a phenomenal forearm for a nearfall, baron just kind of looks at it like yeah i should probably count whatever

instead, aj cranks in the deepest calf crusher i've seen

looks genuinely nasty

baron claims kevin touched the bottom rope (he didn't), so kevin throws aj at him, causing some i'm-the-fucking-ref power trip shenanigans and general fronting

and here comes shane to shout at his terrible refereeing while aj and kevin have taken each other out

kevin punches aj in the dick while they argue, goes for a pin, baron starts counting put gets pulled out of the ring by shane

one inter-official argument later, baron gives shane the vest and storms off

shane's wearing it over a tshirt, and it's still like four sizes too big

kevin's like wtf there is actually a conspiracy

and one phenomenal forearm later, kevin's out of the us title picture

during the highlights, kevin staggers up the ring with a blank stare like aj flayed his dog

and we fade on aj with his belt

ok, that was a pretty solid episode all round, narrative-wise

and the gas pervading the barsgays that stopped people being able to talk coherent english appeared to have dissipated a bit

so yeah, the bloggening has resumed

entirely possible it'll go on another hiatus in a month or two, but hey

if you have any complaints about this issue, please direct them to

#WWE #WWE Raw #wwe smackdown

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