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needleandhammer · 3 years

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From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Wow - the response i received in a little under 24 hours since i posted the first taste of part 1 has truly bowled me over! I wasn't expecting that reaction & tbh i would have been happy if 2 people wanted to read this story hahaha! So, i've been writing in the background & the first few parts have already been proofed and are ready to go. HOWEVER! I am open to your suggestions so please please let me know what you think and how you want to see Amelia's story play out. As far as i'm concerned, this fic is as much yours as it is mine! So please enjoy this first part, in its entirety, and let me know your thoughts! Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 1 | prima parte

warnings; none - maybe a bit of angst? (what sibling rivalry doesn't have a bit of angst)

word count; 1978 words

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Sunday 25/07 5pm AEST. Updates will be twice weekly at this stage. Probably Wednesday’s and Sundays from next week!!

link to fic masterlist here

The world of football, no matter how big it may seem, is as tight as a close-knit family. Whether its management staff, senior players, scouts, academy players, business developers, medical team, groundskeeper - everyone knows someone who knows someone else involved in the sport. For Amelia White, it was a family affair.

Having grown up with her father as a senior tactical analyst for many different clubs throughout his career, and an older brother currently playing for Brighton in the Premier League, there was no opportunity for her to escape the fanaticism of the sport. It was what her household lived and breathed, football. Most would think that, with her brother being as successful as he is now, her childhood was shadowed by her brother's success but that's not the case. She capitalised on her ability to think both logically and creatively, and absorbed all of the information her father could give her as if she was a sponge, to establish a name of her own in the sport and advance her career in the sport. At the age of 21 she upped and left the comforts of her home in West London, accepted a position at Juventus within their graduate program & worked her way up the ranks to be their youngest tactical analyst by the age of 24.

So far in her career, the support of her mother, father & brother were unmatched by any. They were all so proud of her for making her own name, proving herself and succeeding in one of the most competitive football leagues in the world. She was smart, tactful, both meticulous and ruthless in her approach to her career and the success of her players. Because after all, they were her players. She worked day in and day out, studying them and their opponents, drafting performance plans and set pieces for every possible outcome of the play, so that they could perform at their best. They had her trust and faith, and she had theirs. This is probably what her family was most proud of, and wished her every success, until she was appointed as a tactical analyst for the Italian National Team for the upcoming Euro 2020 tournament. Which happened to be the same tournament that her brother had received his call up to the Three Lions. Which was the current level at which her father was a senior tactical analyst for the English National Team. The Euro 2020 Tournament was about to be a real family affair...

10 July 2021

It had been 2 months since she last had any contact with her family. 3 months ago, Amelia signed a contract with the Federcalcio, the governing body of football in Italy, to become the Azzurri’s tactical analyst for the foreseeable European Football Championship. In turn, her silky signature at the bottom of the agreement, also constituted a digital and physical contact ban with members of her family that were also involved with the tournament...her father and her brother.

At the time of the contract, and against her better judgement, Amelia hadn’t told her family of her opportunity. She knew her father would be proud, but her brother would be bitter. Her mother was switzerland, completely neutral and rooting for both of her children - but that's not how football works. No matter your role you have a job to do, and you do everything you can to make sure it is your team that lifts the trophy at the end of the tournament. So, on May 23rd her family congratulated her for another successful season at Juventus, and unbeknownst to them, said goodbye for the next 2 months. Until the day before the final match of the tournament, Italy v. England.

Her heart dropped when England won their semi final match against Denmark. She wanted nothing more than for her brother to be happy and for her father to succeed, but she didn’t want to have to go up against them in the final. Ultimately, she knew they were good, but she also knew that she could hold her own and compete with the best. Having a close relationship with her brother, up until this period, meant that she often paid attention to the premier league. This was a major benefit to her as she had already started analysing the azzurri’s opponents. It was her job to know what foot Raheem Sterling preferred to pass with, what direction Declan Rice preferred to take the ball up the field, what direction of receiving the ball did Harry Maguire struggle the most with. So that's how she spent the three days between matches, solidifying her knowledge of her opponents & predicting the plays her dad would be instructing the English team to complete, to attempt to outperform the Italians. However nothing would prepare her for the knock on her suite door, or for what was on the other side…

_____________________________________________________________

“Ciao Amelia, vieni con me per favore. abbiamo organizzato una visita supervisionata con tuo fratello prima della finale di domani sera. sorpresa!” (hi amelia, come with me please. we have arranged a supervised visit with your brother prior to the final tomorrow night. surprise!). I stood there in shock staring at one of my players & closest friends, Federico Bernardeschi. I was a person who didn't enjoy spontaneity, who thrived off of preparation and organisation. I needed the opportunity to overthink every situation so that I could prepare for every possible outcome. This was not my idea of a good time. Of course I missed my brother, but I know just how volatile he can be. Nevertheless, I grabbed my jacket and shoved my sneakers on before following Fede down the hall and into a blacked out van that was waiting to take me to St. George’s Park for my family reunion.

Upon arriving, and after a stern pep talk from Fede (who was my appointed supervisor for the visit - not sure I would say he was the most responsible choice but he did talk some sense into me) I walked into the main entrance and saw my father leaning against the reception desk waiting for me.

“Papa!!” I called as I walked over to him, ready to smother him with my love and affection. My father, Dean White, and I had as good of a relationship as possible, being that he was always heavily involved with my brother Ben’s footballing career as well as his own. I think when I came along, my father didn't know how to be a girl dad, so he took my mothers advice and just involved me like he would Ben. I was glad that I would be seeing him first, and he would be taking me to see my no-doubt pissed off brother.

“Dad, this is Fede, one of my players”

“Ciao Dean, it’s very nice to meet you but i am also her bodyguard for this evening” Fede introduced himself to my father and they exchanged pleasantries. I had a look around the foyer of the facility until I heard my name brought up in conversation.

“Amelia, come on. The boys are just over here. I don’t think you have long before heading back to your camp” My dad called to me. Boys? As in...more than just my brother?

“Hahaha that's funny dad, just show me to his room and we can have our screaming match there. Should only be about 20 or so minutes”

“Ben’s not in his room, we have a recreation room for the players and staff to lounge about and relax in. Pretty sure he’ll be in there. Come on, you’ve never been scared of your brother before. Why start now?” Before I knew it, Dad was leading us through some doors and into a large common area with bean bags, pool tables and couches - all occupied by current first team members of the English National Football team.

“Dean mate, don’t normally see you down here after 7pm. Oh look at that, someone let the trash in.” A loud mouthed player, that I used to adore as if he was my own brother, calls out as he notices us enter the room. And just like that, I shake off my nerves, stand in front of my taller & more argumentative bodyguard, relax my shoulders and stare into the eyes of Kyle Walker - daring him to challenge me and push me further.

“Relax Kyle, Benjamin White - your sister is here to see you.” Dad cut Kyle off. I didn’t need him to defend me against Kyle’s harsh comments, I could defend myself.

“Wow, I thought hell would freeze over before I got the opportunity to speak to you. Of course, I didn't realise hell would look quite like seeing you in that shade of blue.” My brother, Ben, spoke bitterly at me as he approached me from the other side of the room. This, coupled with Walker’s exclamation earlier, got the attention of the majority of the players scattered about.

“Ben, if you let me explain in private I'm sure you will be able to understand why things had to be this way” I tried to reason with him. Letting go of my always-defensive guard and pleading with my big brother to open his mind to see my side of the story.

“As if I would even talk to you right now, the night before the final, you’re probably here to try and get some insider information. Boys make sure you don’t say anything to her, she’s as sly as they come” Ben’s words were as sharp as a knife - but I knew what I had to say would cut him deeper.

“Ok that's enough! You are ridiculous! What did you expect me to do? Not take the job because you’re my brother? This is my career we are talking about here” I challenged him. “If you think for one second i stopped supporting you then you must be even more stupid than i thought. Of course this isn't the ideal situation, I'm proud of you for reaching a final but I'm just as proud of myself for doing the same thing.” I got progressively closer to my brother, who stood there with his hands beside himself, unable to get a word in.

“I came tonight to wish you good luck, to tell you I loved you, to give you a hug and tell you to stay safe and play smart. Whilst I still wish all of this for you, I now want you to know that I want you to play your best so I can be better than you. I can show you exactly how good at my job I am. I want you to know that no matter what way you play the ball, I'll be right there waiting for you. I am prepared for this, I hope you are too - so that it will feel that much more sweet when we beat you” I sneered at my older brother, who at this point, is quite visibly feeling a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

I take a step back, let out a breath and shake the tension from my shoulders. Breaking eye contact with my brother, I look briefly - yet confidently - at the other players in the room and take a step back. I turned to my dad, who was looking at me solemnly, as though he wasn’t happy with my outburst but understood it came from a place of frustration with my sibling. Walking up, giving him a kiss on the cheek and wishing him luck, I turned to look at Fede and began to walk to the door. This interaction with my brother, although supposed to be a nice moment shared between siblings, has only gone and motivated me to be at my best tomorrow, to prepare my players to go to war and to come out the other side victorious.

Part 2 | seconda parte

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wordsnstuff · 4 years

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30 Days of Outlining - October 2020 Writing Challenge (Preptober)

– Yes, I am aware that October contains 31 days, but I take Halloween off to celebrate and give myself a breath before starting NaNoWriMo on November 1st. There’s a bonus prompt at the end, just in case. I look forward to seeing all of your guys’ responses here using the hashtag #wordsnstuffoutline and over on Instagram, where you can tag me @ writingandsuch.

This challenge begins on October 1st, but I thought I would give you guys some time to plan stuff out, because you may need to switch some days around to accommodate your schedule. You’re free to do one day’s challenge on another day if your schedule doesn’t allow enough time to complete that day’s challenge. Best of luck to you!

Patreon || Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Work In Progress

–

☼ Prompt List ☼

What point of view are you writing from and why does it suit your story?

What structure are you using based on your story’s genre and character arcs?

Is your story driven primarily by characters or plot? How do they work together?

If you have a zero draft completed, list what you hope to accomplish as you rewrite. If you are approaching the zero draft, list what you’d like to accomplish in this preliminary telling of the story. *

Where does your story begin and why?

Where have you placed the climax and how does this aide in the smooth resolution? If you’re writing a series, what does the climax introduce that will not be solved in the resolution?

If you’ve fleshed out your characters, how can you utilize different plot points to show their traits and nuance to the reader? If you haven’t, I recommend the “Character first, plot second” questionnaire.

What details of the plot/characters have you left to discover as you write or revise in future drafts? Why?

Create a “timeline” chart that demonstrates the pacing in your story. Describe the pacing trends and how this serves your story. Are there any points you would like to space out or condense?

Make a five sentence summary of your story. One for each of the major stages of a story; Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, and Resolution.

How do you resolve your major conflict, and how does this resolution provide payoff for the built tension?

How do you build tension throughout the plot?

What are the major stakes that persist throughout the plot? How are they answered in the resolution?

Create a three-sentence summary for each of your main characters’ arcs. Where do they begin, what causes a shift, and what is the outcome?

What will your reader notice when they read your story the second time that will make them say “I should have seen that coming”?

How will you incorporate foreshadowing into the plot without giving away the ending or being too subtle?

What are the major themes you hope you incorporate into the plot/arcs and why?

Where will these themes be placed amongst the subplots, main plots, and character arcs?

How do your themes tie together as a complete work?

Make a simple chart that demonstrates the rise and fall in action, as well as the major twists that occur in your story. How evenly placed is the action and the reaction?

Describe the evolution of the 3 main relationships portrayed in your story, using the Beginning, shift, and outcome structure.

How do you plan to incorporate time-period and setting into the story in a meaningful/note-worthy way, without info-dumping?

Are there any symbols you initially see incorporating into your plot? Go through your outline so far and note places where you may have room to hint at them.

Describe the evolution of tone in your story. Focus especially on suspense and tension.

List the major and minor events that occur in your story, then describe their consequences, both short-term and long-term.

How does your falling action effectively bridge the gap between the climax and the resolution?

What emotion do you hope the reader exits your story with? What do you hope they remember most about the story?

What commonalities of the genre have to incorporated into your story, and how have you changed them to suit your original vision?

How do your characters, theme, and conflict develop throughout the story? Does one develop faster/deeper than the others? How can you create or maintain this balance?

Are there any scenes that you are looking forward to writing the most? How can you utilize them to motivate you to continue, as well as get into the groove of the story the fastest?

*Zero Draft: a preliminary telling of the story to get the main ideas and events out of your head to be edited, refined, rewritten, and perfected in subsequent drafts. (A rough, rough draft that is meant for your personal use)

☼ Bonus Challenge ☼

If you’ve already planned your major scenes, go through them and make sure you know how each scene serves the plot, develops the characters, and prepares the reader for upcoming events/information.

☼ Useful Resources To Help You Win ☼

Plot Structures

Useful Writing Resources | Part II

Pros & Cons of Different Points of View

Resources For Plot Development

Guide To Plot Development

Writing Long Stories Without Filler

Novel Planning 101

Tackling Subplots

Outlining By Chapter

Character Driven vs. Plot Driven Stories

How To Write A Story Timeline

Making A Story Come Together

How To Engage The Reader

Pacing Appropriately

Tips on Introducing Backstory

How To Develop A Distinct Voice In Your Writing

Balancing Detail & Development

Tips on Balancing Development

–

Masterlist | WIP Blog

If you enjoy my blog and wish for it to continue being updated frequently and for me to continue putting my energy toward answering your questions, please consider Buying Me A Coffee, or pledging your support on Patreon, where I offer early access and exclusive benefits for only $5/month.

Shoutout to my $15+ patrons, Jade Ashley and Douglas S.!

#writing #nanowrimo #preptober #outlining #writing prompts #writing challenge #prompt #prompts #plot development #october #outline #planning #story planning

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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Re-Ti v. Te

Thanks for getting back so quickly!

I now see a lot of the difference, now. I'm still a little torn, and maybe you could help me with why if you're okay with it.

The idea of wanting to understand how things fit together is something I would say I do a lot, especially with the way I've found myself learning. I'm in my freshman year at college studying for an engineering degree. When I study (more specifically with things like chemistry) I want to get the laws of how the concept works. I find it equips me with a better understanding so that I can tackle whatever questions arise later that don't just ask for surface-level information. I want to get it, so that it's of use to me whenever I begin using this for my career. Practicality, I guess. However, I also am able to sacrifice that for the need of just being able to get it done. If a deadline (say, an exam) is coming up, I'm more than willing to halt the "but WHY" question to just get the information into my head. If it needs to be fluid, we'll work with it later. I think my mind works like a sort of assembly line; this thing goes here, which means this cog has to operate in this way. If it isn't then that means I didn't do it right and we need to find the anomaly.

Another thing that makes me think I could be Te is what you said about making sure something is doing its job. I'm in a group project right now and (oddly enough) gotten made the unofficial "lead engineer" for the group. It's a semester long project, and we're about halfway through. Recently I'd worked with one other person in my group to create a chart with all the deadlines our groupmates had to make so that things could get assembled with relative ease and we wouldn't need to stay up till 1 o'clock in the morning finishing things. However, no one has gotten ANYTHING done for the upcoming deliverable and it's driving me INSANE because the work that has been done isn't done according to the rubric (which, in turn means it won't get good scores). I've been sitting here working quality control and trying to make things run smoothly but it won't. It's given me tension headaches. I don't know if a TP (or P in general) would really be too worried about that sort of thing because they're okay with taking things slow. I mean, I am, too (procrastination is a hard habit to break). Who knows, I might just be being uptight.

I hope you can derive something from that mess of words I just typed, haha. Thanks again for the insights :)

This sounds more Ti, but it's really hard for me to speculate about cognitive functions in a void -- where's the rest of your type? Are you a sensor? An intuitive? What kind of a sensor? What kind of an intuitive? Does your lifestyle overall support that of an TJ (self-disciplined, factual, hard-working, pros and cons) or a TP (wing it, make it up as you go along, planning doesn't work for you)? How do you convince other people to get on board with a project? Do you strong-arm them, hand out assignments, come up with schematics (TJ)? Or do you use 'we' motivating dialogue, the sense that we all need to work together for the common good, we're in this project together (TP)? Do you relate more to Mycroft or Sherlock? Are you more Hermione Granger (be prepared) or Indiana Jones (get out of the campus and do things once in awhile)? Are you a study and go by the details person, following what has proven reliable over the long term (STJ), an envision a single way of doing this and ignore any other possibilities (NTJ), a learn the process first, then innovate by using 16 different approaches (INTP) or learn the process first, then get your hands and body involved (ISTP)? Do you have a strong internal sense of your own ethics, independent from others (TJ) or are you more inclined to feel that you have a duty/responsibility to be a decent person for others' sake (TP)? Don't isolate your functions, think about how they all interact to "make a type."

Read through my MBTI pages, and those of mbti-notes.tumblr.com, that might give you some insight.

#question #mbti

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rocorambles · 4 years

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Plot Twist

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warning: NSFW, Yandere, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Rape/Non-con, Blackmail

Summary: Not everything is what it seems and you find out the hard way that sometimes there's more than meets the eye with handsome volleyball players.

Requested by Anon

You playfully smack Oikawa as he continues complaining about studying. The two of you are in the same class and although you had known of the popular athlete before that, you’d never had the chance to actually talk to him. It wasn’t until you were assigned to do a group project together that the two of you even introduced yourselves. At first, you had exasperatedly sighed thinking the handsome third-year wasn’t going to pull his weight and that you’d be left to do all the work, but you were pleasantly surprised to see how serious and studious he actually was. You quickly finished the project and with the night still young, the two of you had begun chatting and getting to know each other.

After that, whenever there were other group projects or homework assigned, you became each other’s first choice of partner and study buddy and that’s how you found yourself here on Oikawa’s bedroom floor with textbooks and notes splayed everywhere as the two of you prepared for an upcoming exam. You lean back and close your eyes, resting for a second as the brunette next to you continues squawking about how much material you need to get through. With a yawn, you check the time on your phone and are shocked by how late it is. Oikawa’s rant stops as he eyes you packing your things and he pouts at you. “Are you already leaving? You can sleepover if you want! My parents are away this week and it’ll give us more time to study.” You flick his head and chuckle at the petulant whine he lets out. “I don’t think I have the mental capacity to look at another page tonight. I just want to go home and pass out.”

Oikawa follows you like a puppy as you make your way to his front door and you smile as you wave back at him and continue on your way home alone. You shiver and hold your school blazer tightly against yourself. Why were you so cold? With a muffled curse you’re about to turn around to go back to Oikawa’s house realizing you had left your scarf there when a blunt force hits your head and you feel yourself falling before your world goes dark.

Your heavy eyelids flutter as you blearily open your eyes and you wince at the throbbing pain in your head. You move to rub your temple, but freeze when you realize something is stopping your hand. Your heart begins to race as you look behind you only to find your wrists bound behind your back and in a panicked daze you take a look at your surroundings and tears begin to well in your eyes when you realize you’re in what appears to be a basement. There’s a ringing in your ears and you can’t think clearly, but a muffled groan from the corner of the room has you whipping your head. You almost sob in relief when you see Oikawa’s familiar figure and you rise on shaky legs as you walk over to him, but your heart sinks when you realize his hands are also tied just like yours.

“What happened? Why are we here?” You’re spitting a million questions a minute trying to make some sense of the jumbled thoughts in your head when a leg gently nudges you. “Relax. We need to calm down and think.” You clamp your mouth shut in agreement and shuffle besides Oikawa. Silence overtakes the room as you both sit and think about how to escape when a nagging thought exits your mouth. “Oikawa, how did you end up here? Someone or something hit me when I was outside, but weren’t you still at home?” You think you feel the taller boy stiffen at your words, but you’re too distracted by what he says next to dwell on it. “You forgot your scarf so I went running after you to return it. That’s when I saw someone dragging your body away, so I tried to fight him and well...as you can see that didn’t work out too well.”

Guilt eats at you. If you hadn’t been so forgetful, Oikawa wouldn’t have had to come looking for you. It’s your fault that he’s locked up here with you. The thought has tears streaming down your face and Oikawa gently tries to console you as you blubber apology after apology to him. “Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for some creep to assault you. I’m glad I was able to try helping the girl I like.” Your heart flutters at those words and you tentatively look into warm chocolate-brown eyes. “Y-you...did you just say ‘a girl I like’?” A rosy tint flares on Oikawa’s cheeks as he nervously smiles at you. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to confess to you, but yeah, I like you.” You know you should be focused on figuring out how to get out of this situation, but you can’t help the way happiness bubbles inside of you and you shyly confess that you also have feelings for the handsome volleyball player. You lay your head on Oikawa’s broad shoulder as the two of you resume brainstorming how you’re going to escape when Oikawa excitedly nudges you off of him. “Look, over there! Is that a pocket knife?” The two of you scramble over and hope clamors inside of you when you realize he’s right. It never occurs to you how strange it is that your captor would leave such an obvious tool in the open like this. All you can think of is cutting the binds on your wrists and leaving this nightmare behind you.

Wrists freed, Oikawa grabs your hand and the two of you race up the stairs. You’re already prepared to kick down what you assume is going to be a locked door, but are stunned when Oikawa easily twists the knobs and pulls you through into a familiar living room. “Oikawa, wh-why are we in your house?” Your voice sounds small and shaky even to your ears and you stare glassy-eyed at the boy who still has a firm hold of your wrist. You subtly try pulling your hand out of his grasp, but wince when he only tightens his grip. “I really was just going to return your scarf to you, but you just looked so vulnerable all alone in the dark and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted you so badly for so long and now that I know you want me too, we can finally be together!”

You shiver at the cheery smile on his face and disgust roils inside of you. “You’re sick. What’s wrong with you? You don’t just kidnap someone to get them to confess to you. Let go of me! I’m leaving.” You begin frantically pulling your arm and pushing Oikawa’s firm body away from you, but you cringe when he just pulls you in closer until he’s tightly embracing you. “Don’t be like that, Y/N-chan! You said you like me, so it’s all fine now. I can’t wait to go on dates with you and show you off at matches. I bet you’ll look so cute wearing my volleyball jacket.” Hearing your muffled voice trying to say something, Oikawa steps back and gives you some space to talk while keeping his hands on your shoulders. “We’re not dating and I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, you freak. Let me go right now!” You claw at his hands that are now digging into your skin, but you falter for a second when you look at brown eyes now laced with anger and malice. “You’re not going anywhere until you agree to date me.” He roughly grabs you by the roots of your hair and begins dragging you down a hallway and nausea hits you when you realize he’s bringing you to his bedroom. You dig your heels into the floor, you scream, you scratch at the strong arm painfully yanking your locks, but Oikawa doesn’t even falter and before you can clearly register what’s happening, he’s already dumped you onto his bed.

You scramble to sit up, but Oikawa’s knees dig into your sensitive inner thighs and you flinch at the pain. He leans down until you can feel his breath on your face and you attempt to push his chest to keep some distance between you, but he presses his knee harder into your thigh and with a pained gasp you reluctantly put your hands down by your sides. With a victorious smirk, he swoops down and nuzzles his nose into the curve of your neck and your jaw clenches when you feel him lick a sloppy wet line from your collarbone to the back of your ear. You’re sickened by the trail of saliva he leaves all over you, but the last straw is when he tries to kiss you. As soon as you feel lips touch yours, you bite down and take vengeful pleasure in his roar of pained fury, using the momentary distraction to begin sliding out from under him, but your movements are halted by a mind-numbing sting across your face.

Wide-eyed and unsure of what just happened, you gingerly bring a hand to your face and just stare at the drops of blood smeared across your skin as your nose continues to stream ruby red liquid. Still shocked at being slapped, you don’t even realize Oikawa’s moving until you’re being thrown back on the bed, a strong hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off much needed oxygen. Dry heaving and light-headed at the sight of your own blood, you weakly dig your nails into the forearm holding you down, but Oikawa just sneers down at you. He wipes the blood from his own wound you caused and smears the rust colored paint across your lips. “I didn’t know you liked it rough, Y/N-chan. This is going to be a lot of fun.” You choke as his grip tightens and his free hand begins to push your shirt and bra up until your breasts are on display for him. You continue flailing in an attempt to get some leverage, but you only serve to make your breasts shake and Oikawa stares, entranced by the sight. He slaps your bouncy mounds and humiliation courses through you as he continues playing with them as if they’re just toys.

Your back arches as his mouth roughly sucks and licks at your nipples and despite the anger and fear lancing through you, you begin to feel something else, something pleasurable coiling at the edges of your mind. Smirking as he sees arousal beginning to trickle its way onto your face, Oikawa lets go of your throat and you gasp for breath. You’re so busy trying to breathe normally again that you fail to stop hands from practically ripping off your clothing until it’s too late and you’re completely bare waist down. You try to close your legs and you reach your hands down to cover your most intimate part, but Oikawa is quick to trap your wrists in one large hand above your head and his muscular frame nestled between your legs impedes your ability to move them any closer. You continue writhing beneath him, trying to loosen his grip, but you instantly stop as you hear a pleasured groan leave Oikawa’s mouth. Mortified, you realize in your struggle, you had been grinding against his clothed groin. “What’s wrong, Y/N-chan? It felt so good when you shook your hips like that. Keep on struggling, cutie.” Not wanting to give the bastard even an ounce of pleasure, you opt for snarling fierce threats at him instead, but he just squishes your cheeks in his hand and coos about how adorable you are before beginning to remove his own pants and boxers.

Your stomach churns at the sight of Oikawa’s cock and you can feel tears sliding down your face as his tip nudges at your opening. He hums in discontent when he realizes you’re still fairly dry and he resumes his oral ministrations on your nipples and begins circling your clit. You try to focus on your hate, on the fact that this is rape, on the fact that you don’t want this, but Oikawa’s had practice and your grimace begins to turn into aroused pants as lust fogs your mind. He dips his fingers into your pussy and moans at how drenched you’ve become and with a lewd pop, he releases your aching nipple from his mouth and watches as his cock slowly slides into your tight hole, relishing the way your walls clench around him. Your mouth gapes open at the feeling of being stretched, but a sudden realization has you trying to blink away the pleasured haze. “Oikawa, are you using a condom?” Dread pools in your stomach when you look down and see his bare length thrusting in and out of you. “Please, please, don’t cum inside me. I’m not using protection.” You’ve already resigned yourself to being raped, but the thought of being knocked up, especially by the monster on top of you, has a new level of anxiety peaking within you. Oikawa’s pace just increases at your words and you throw your head back moaning as he rubs against your g-spot with every motion. “If you don’t want me to cum inside you, just lie there and take it like a good girl.” And you do just that. You close your eyes and lose yourself in the pleasure, intent on at least pretending it was anyone else on top of you, pretending it was anyone else bringing you to your climax, but when you finally feel yourself about to burst, you let out a choked sob when you look up into Oikawa’s face and you climax with anguished sobs wracking your body.

Spurred on by your spasming walls, Oikawa feels his release around the corner and he immediately pulls out of you, only to once again roughly grab you by your hair. He pulls your head back until your neck arches and your mouth drops open and with a few last furious strokes, he paints your face with sticky white strands. Dazed, you sit there mutely, but a bright flash shakes you out of your stupor and you stare up horrified when you see Oikawa brightly grinning down at his phone screen. You lunge at him, trying to get rid of the photo evidence, but his hand still holding your hair only tightens and you hiss at the pain as you’re held in place. Your fists clench and you consider punching the smile off his face, but your hands go limp when he shows you the picture on his screen. You look absolutely wrecked. There’s tears, drool, blood, and semen smeared all over your face. Oikawa’s cock is almost brushing against your mouth. And worst of all, you look like you’re enjoying it, with your eyes rolled all the way back and your mouth wide open, the corners twitched slightly upwards in a mockery of a smile. You look like a whore who just orgasmed and loved every second of it.

Your mouth moves and you try to find words, but you sit there speechless. Oikawa releases his grip on you and begins to tenderly stroke your hair instead. “If you don’t want me to send this picture around to all your friends, your family, and the universities you’re applying to, you’ll date me, understand?” You want to believe your friends and family wouldn’t judge you. That they’d listen to you and believe you if you told them what happened. But the universities you’re applying to? A board of strangers you’ll be desperately working to impress? A board of strangers who’d be deciding what path your future takes? You slowly wrap your arms around Oikawa as affectionately as you can and you lay your head against his chest. Internally you recoil at the way he lovingly reciprocates the embrace, but you let yourself melt into his hold. What choice do you have?

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engie-ivy · 4 years

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"Sure, no problem," Remus had said when James asked if his new friend could crash on their couch for a bit. His insanely smart and insanely handsome friend, who has a tendency of walking around shirtless, and the actual audacity of also being insanely kind. Sure, no problem...

Wolfstar humour (I hope) and fluff

Now Remus is convinced that, would Sirius have had the decency of being an arrogant asshole as people as good-looking as him ought to be, he would’ve gotten over his infatuation pretty quick. But no. Of bloody course, besides being insanely smart and insanely handsome, Sirius has the audacity of being insanely kind as well. He has thanked Remus for letting him sleep on their couch about a hundred times, he asks Remus how his day was and how his studies are going, and if that wasn’t infuriating enough, he bloody makes breakfast for James and Remus every morning. When Remus overhears him joke around with James and finds out he’s actually funny as well, he has just about had it with Sirius and his stupid perfection.

Stupid perfection

“I’m going to tell Sirius he needs to find another place to crash,” James informs his roommate gravely.

Remus looks up, startled. “What? Why?”

“Come on, Remus. You don’t have to pretend. I know you don’t like him.”

“Don’t like him?” Remus repeats, genuinely confused.

“Yes,” James says. “It’s quite obvious. You’ve been acting snippy towards him from the moment you met him.”

Oh, Remus had indeed been quite pissed off the moment he met Sirius. He had woken up, staggered into the living room, wearing his old pyjama bottoms filled with holes and his most hideous jumper, hair pointing up in all directions, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he still had some drool on his chin, and there he was. Tall, fit, wearing a leather jacket, long dark hair tied up in a high pony tail, bright eyes and a charming smile. Remus died a little.

James had talked about his new friend quite a lot. A guy who studied computer science with him, a brilliant student, insanely smart, who could do unbelievable things with a computer. When James had asked Remus if his friend could crash on their couch for a bit, as the situation between him and his parents had apparently gotten very bad and he needed to leave their house as soon as possible, Remus had no problem with it. This, however, was not what he had imagined.

So yes, Remus had been pissed. Pissed that James hadn’t given him a heads up that the guy who would be sleeping in his living room for the upcoming weeks looked like the actual personification of his every fantasy.

When the guy, Sirius, had come up to Remus with a greeting smile, hand outstretched, looking handsome in a way real-life people have absolutely no business of looking, Remus had done the only thing he could think of. He turned around, walked back into his room and slammed the door behind him.

“You’re one of the most friendly persons I know. You chat with everyone,” James continues. “But to Sirius you barely say a word! And when he talks to you, you hardly say anything back. You retreat to your room all the time, you avoid being alone with him at all costs...”

Its true.

Remus’ brain just stops functioning when he’s around Sirius. It gets stuck in a loop of ‘arms, chest, muscles, hot, smile, eyes, pretty’, and his best way to prevent himself from making a fool of himself, is by avoiding Sirius as much as possible.

But he supposes Sirius isn’t torturing him with his presence on purpose, and he doesn’t deserve to be kicked out by James.

“James,” Remus begins. “You really don’t have to-”

“No,” James holds up his hand. “This is your house too, and you were right when you said that me forcing you to live with Sirius isn’t fair.”

Remus frowns. “When did I say that?”

“Yesterday,” James replies. “You were trying to write a paper at the kitchen table, remember? And Sirius was doing his stretching exercises in the living room. You couldn’t focus and you were glaring at Sirius with your jaw clenched. Then you growled ‘Why are you doing this to me? This isn’t fair’, before storming off to your bedroom.”

Remus clearly remembers how he had quickly given up on his paper on the pros and cons of using nuclear energy to reduce carbon dioxide emission when Sirius, wearing tight gym pants and a loose T-shirt, started sprawling his body out on the floor in all kinds of positions right in front of him.

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, James, I didn’t mean...”

“You don’t have to apologise, Remus,” James says. “You’re not obligated to like Sirius. I admit, I was hoping you two would get along, but I guess he’s just not your kind of person, and that’s fine.” James sighs. “Maybe I should have known that you two living together would be a bad idea.”

Remus arches an eyebrow feeling a bit insulted. “How so?”

“Well, you’re... set in your ways,” James says. “You like to have things neat and organized, and Sirius, he’s all over the place. So I guess I can understand how his behaviour annoys you.”

“What behaviour has annoyed me?” Remus asks, having no clue what James is referring to.

“When he comes home from his daily run, for instance,” James says. “And he’s all flushed and sweaty, and he just takes off his soaked shirt in the middle of the living room. You always glare at him when he does that! Last time you even murmured ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. What did I do to deserve this?’, so it obviously rouses you.”

Remus’ cheeks heat up. Well, he guesses he can’t deny that being faced with a dishevelled Sirius taking his shirt of in front of him every day does... rouse him.

“Or how he forgets to take a towel out of the linen closet when he goes to take a shower all the time,” James continues. “And then he has to cross the room dripping wet, leaving water drops everywhere. I saw the frustration on your face last time.”

Yes, Remus had been frustrated. Very, very frustrated. Probably in a different way than James thinks, though.

“Or that time Sirius didn’t know what to wear, and he-”

“James!” Remus stops him. “Please. I don’t dislike Sirius. I really don’t.”

“But you-”

“I’m attracted to him, okay?”

“You... what?”

Remus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “When you asked me if your computer science friend could stay with us for a bit, I was not prepared to have an are-you-even-real kind of handsome man to suddenly be living on my couch!”

“I...” James stammers. “I guess he’s a fit bloke?”

“Are you kidding me?” Remus just throws it all out there now. “If I had to describe my dream guy it would be him. No, it would be less than him, because my imagination isn’t good enough to come up with him!”

James blinks. “You really got it bad, don’t you?”

Remus groans, and let his head fall back against the couch. “James, how am I supposed to function with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen padding around my apartment half naked?”

“So, what you’re saying is,” James says, gathering his thoughts. “The reason why you barely say a word to him, run away to your room all the time, hardly eat anything when he makes us breakfast, is because you’re totally into him?”

“I’m a simple man and I was living a simple life,” Remus says. “Each morning I’d get out of bed, throw on a jumper, stagger into the kitchen and eat a bowl of stale cornflakes. And now, all of the sudden, there’s a gorgeous man in my kitchen baking me pancakes every morning, shirtless. How am I supposed to cope with that, James? How?”

James chuckles, and Remus groans again. “Why does he have to be shirtless all the bloody time?”

Now James bursts out laughing, and Remus glares at him. “My life is a joke to you.”

James wipes tears out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! So, do you want him to move out then?”

“No!” Remus says. “We’re keeping him.”

James gives him an evil grin. “Do you want me to ask him to wear a shirt at breakfast from now on?”

Remus throws a pillow at his head. “Don’t you dare!”

Remus is laying on his bed reading a book when there’s a soft knock on the door. He looks up to see Sirius standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets and a hesitant smile on his face.

“Hi.”

Remus wants to say hi back, but then Sirius runs a hand through his hair, and his brain malfunctions.

Eventually, Sirius just continues. “So I talked to James...”

Remus sits up. “What did he say?”

“Not much to be honest. He only said that you were okay with me staying, but I really wanted to check with you myself?” Sirius sits down on the edge of Remus’ bed.

“Yeah,” Remus says. “It’s fine, really.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asks earnestly. “It’s your home, and I honestly won’t blame you if you want me out. I can be a bit much. I’ve been told plenty of times that I can be a bit much. I’d understand if you don’t want that around you. I’m honestly surprised James still wants me around.” Sirius lets out a little laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No,” Remus quickly says. “I mean, yes. I mean, I want you around.” Remus runs a hand over his face. “Look, Sirius, I know I’ve been acting like an arse to you, but I promise I don’t dislike you. I really don’t.”

Sirius looks at him for a moment with his bright eyes, then he nods. “Alright then. Okay.”

Remus sighs. “You must think I’m a horrible person.”

“I think you’re brilliant!” Sirius says, and Remus looks at him with surprise.

Sirius is staring at him intently. “James told me you work two jobs to pay for your studies, but still manage to find time to plant trees, clean up litter from the woods, or protest against the use of fossil fuels. And I overheard you discuss the government’s environmental policy with Lily, and you’re so passionate! I love hearing your enthusiasm when you’re standing up for what you believe in! The way you loose yourself in an argument, the way your eyes lit up when you’re talking... The same way they do when you’re reading a good book, curled up in a chair in one of those adorable jumpers-”

Sirius stops himself talking. Remus stares at him with wide eyes.

Sirius flushes bright red and scrambles off the bed. “I, eh, I should go.” He turns to leave the room.

“Sirius!” Remus calls before giving himself time to think. Sirius turns around in the doorway.

“Would... Would you maybe like to have dinner some time? Together?” Remus’ voice sounds shaky.

Sirius smiles again, and this one definitely reaches his eyes. “Yes, I’d really like that.”

As soon as Sirius has left his room, Remus lets himself fall back onto his bed. He’s in so much trouble. Sirius Black is going to be the death of him. But what a way to go.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #college au #smart sirius black

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jflemings · 4 years

Text

baby, we bleed red and gold | f.w

warnings: Possible grammer mistakes

summary: The twins get a whiff of a plan that Draco and his buddies are hatching for the upcoming game and decide to get you involved in their plan to intimidate them. the tables turn and you get in the way of the serpents. Fred follows through with a promise.

authors note: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts unfinished for a couple of weeks now so I’d thought I’d smash it out. Once again another Gryffindor!reader that plays quidditch, I can’t help myself. Next fic will be multi house, promise.

Angelia had been absolutely kicking your asses in practice leading up to the match against Slytherin and to say you guys were prepared was a severe understatment. The atmosphere was unmatched when the lions and serpents went head to head; the age old rivalry sat thick in the air as the butterflies settled in the pit of your stomach and your hands clamped around your broom.

Up and ready to go with Ange first in line leading the pack, the seven of you got ready to kick off. It had been raining all week and the smell of the pitch took over your senses as you took heavy breathes in through your nose in order to calm the zoo in your stomach.

A flaming head of red hair came down to ear level with you on your right side.

“nervous, l/n? don’t be. Freddie and I have got your back, these serpents won’t lay a finger on your pretty little head” George’s tone was assuring but the smirk set on his lips told a different story. You had an overwhelming feeling that the twins were up to no good on this particular Friday night.

“Georgie’s right. No one is gonna get to our precious little y/n as long as we’re around”

you had to look up to make eye contact with the older twin, a grin gracing his pretty face and a simple wink thrown your way sent your heart into a frenzy. The hound in your rib cage couldn’t be ignored and neither could the whitening of your knuckles from holing the broom in your hands far too tight.

George stands up straight to be eye level with his other half

“Heard Malfoy barking orders to his sorry excuse of a team” Fred’s eyebrow quirks and silently beckons his twin to continue.

“Take out the twins he says”

Fred snickers and knocks his twin with his right elbow “like that’s the easiest thing in the world”

“I say we do something about it”

There it is. that’s the plan, take down the opposing team one by one, in whatever way they can.

Your head lifts and your ears perk as an idea comes flying through your head. The brothers are being rowdy and it somehow only grows your confidence and the bright idea cooking up.

“alright. I want in” the mischievous tone drips off your voice and the smirk gracing your lips can't be hidden when two hands mold to either shoulder and the pair are once again at your ear level and absolutely baffled at your statement. Sure, you got in with the twin’s pranks from time to time but you swore off foul play and mischief on the pitch; You were not about to risk the house cup for a laugh. When they don’t speak you continue.

“If the two of you keep Crabbe and Goyle distracted and off my back i’ll knock Pucey and Warrington around a bit to give dear old harry here enough time to catch the snitch” Your eyes were no longer fixated on the back of Angelia’s robes but instead giving side looks to the boys.

Angelia bounces on her feet and notates her neck back and forth before becoming completely still, almost like she’s trying to list the pros and cons of letting the three of you potentially sabotage your finale game.

She takes a deep breath out.

“If you three mess this up for us, you’re all benched for the first quarter of next season and if anyone asks I had zero involvement in this plan of yours”

You share a sly grin with the twins and George stands up straight while twisting his broom in his hands while Fred lingers by your side, you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

His mouth comes closer to your ear “If Pucey and Warrington are giving you too much of a hard time, let me know and I’ll give ‘em a fright, yeah?” His honey brown eyes scan your face with a sincere look while searching for a reassuring answer. You know that even if you had told Fred that you can take care of yourself if it even looked like the boys were giving you a rough time he’d have them off their brooms faster than you would ever realise.

All you can do is nod before Angie let’s the team know it’s kick off time. You all fly to your positions and you give Fred and George a side glance and nod, getting two smirks in return.

Madam Hooch kicks off the game and it’s on. The quaffle is in your hands and Warrington is tailing you while trying to dodge the twins, with little success. Angelina comes into your view and quicker than your body can process, you’re passing the quaffle on and scoring. Lee’s voice comes over the microphone.

“Brilliant set up and goal from l/n and Johnson! Gryffindor takes the lead by 10 points”

Angie looks over her shoulder and gives you a thumbs up before flying off ready to score again. That’s how the game goes for another fifteen minutes, you and angie scoring three times before Harry and Draco get the snitch in their sights. they’re flying down near the house stands and you easily spot Hermione, Ron and Ginny’s voices within the crowd of students.

The sheer excitement and pride you’re feeling puts you in a momentary state of bliss before a beater’s bat is flying your way. You narrowly miss it and spot Marcus Flint sporting a sickening smirk.

“Maybe if your bite matched your bark, your team would actually have a good chance at winning tonight, y/n” Pucey laughed before following flint toward the hoops.

This interaction meant little to nothing to you because everyone on that pitch and in the stands, including Pucey, knew damn well that you could take any one of the quidditch players at hogwarts one on one. But just because you weren’t bothered by the comment didn’t mean that someone else felt the same.

******

Fred knew how to keep his cool during games. After playing with his brothers since he could walk, he quickly figured out that you can’t always take your anger out on people flying on magic broomsticks a good 150 metres in the air.

So when he watched Pucey make a snide remark about you he didn’t know how to handle the overflow of anger crossing through him other than to take a page out of George’s book and attempt (and almost succeed) to knock the slytherin boy off of his broom completely.

The bludger sent flying towards one of the opposing chasers was anything but accidental and it was all George needed to know that it was time to show Malfoy and his team what taking down beaters actually looked like.

Your thoughts were racing when George caught up by your side diverging bludgers away from you

“I told you your pretty little head wasn’t getting touched this game” The younger twin smirked while diverging a bludger. George followed you to the hoops and cheered you now when you scored, once again putting Gryffindor back in the lead.

The game went on and on for another hour and a half; both teams going back and forth with no sign of mercy.

Alicia and Katie were on a roll. Their technique was unmatched when it came to scoring double goals, you were lingering behind incase they needed you as a distraction or for a pass off but when Katie yet again scores for your team it is immediately known that the odds are once again in your favour.

*****

With the quaffle once again in your clutches and the hoops in your direct eyeline nothing was set to get in your way. Pucey was trailing behind you with taunts and smart ass comments trying to throw you off your game.

“C’mon y/n, you think that’s what it’s gonna take ta get rid of me?” You could barley hear him over the wind in your ears until he was right up beside you with Warrington now joining him on your left. You were cornered.

“now now boys, wouldn’t want to get in my way would you? it’s not gonna end well If you keep riding my tail like this” The ever prominent smirk on your face was matched with Lee’s voice playing over the microphone letting the crowd know of the current score.

The two boys stopped mid air after you flew away from them catching up with the twins.

“Malfoy’s idea to shake up the twins a bit. Let’s see if we an give them a scare and get one of their star chasers out of the way” Warrington’s eyes scanned the pitch and found his teammates equally malicious ones.

Adrian hesitated before getting Goyle’s attention. The younger beater flew over to his older teammates whilst simultaneously trying to focus on the important game at hand.

Adrian spoke harshly and hastily “Draco needs more time to catch the snitch. It’s time to do what we talked about.” Goyle understood immediately and got into position.

Unknowing of the plan the opposing team had been coming up with against yourself and your teammates you continued on as you would. Making plays, avoiding bludgers and scoring. Fred and George were doing their best against Goyle and Crabbe but it was becoming obvious that Fred was becoming angry and his plays and hits were getting sloppy. His usual cool, confident demeanour had disappeared and it seemed the Goyle was successfully riling up the older twin.

Your attention was now split between the game and the boy you fancied. Angelina could see this and ordered you and Alicia swap on the pitch, finally sending you off for a much needed break. Alicia had made it onto the pitch fine and was now in a solid position to help Angie and Katie in what would hopefully be the final play.

The wind had begun to pick up since the start of the game, blowing your robes and hair all over the place. You were too slow to notice the bludger flying at a great speed toward you with a weasley twin hot on it’s trail.

A head of flaming red hair came into your view and a string of cursed seemed to follow. Fred was now positioned completely in front of you, his bat held high after a hit.

“Can’t catch the snitch so you get your pathetic excuse of a team to do dirty work? Thats low, Malfoy.” Fred’s voice was booming and the anger basically seethed out of him, turning his face the same colour of his hair.

“Ya know, Malfoy if you didn’t spend so much time playing dirty and actually trained your team maybe you’d have a chance of beating Gryffindor” George cupped his mouth to make his voice echo all over the stands.

Your stomach bubbled with anger when Fred turned around to face you.

“Angelina would have my head on a platter if she knew I encouraged you to get back out there. Have a rest, let the girls take over. Georgie and I have a bone to pick with Malfoy and his minions and we wouldn’t want you getting in the way of that.” His tone was comforting as he lightly took your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before flying off while swinging his bat.

You watched bludgers intensely follow the Slytherin players from the players stands, the feeling of Fred’s hand still settling into your skin. He kept his word the remainder of the game. All the players, especially Warrington and Malfoy, got a fright once Fred left you in the stands and if it wasn’t for harry finally catching the snitch you’re certain he and his twin would’ve put the whole team in the hospital wing for at least a week.

*****

The game had finally ended after almost four hours of play. You were tired but proud of your team and their talent. Fred and George flew down to where you were now standing on the stands and gave you a big, sweaty, exhausted hug.

“You guys were amazing tonight! Slytherin didn’t see what hit them” you lazily joked, a lopsided smile now present on your face. George patted your head affectionately

“Yeah well if it wasn’t for Freddie over here you probably would be in the hospital wing right about now.” George elbowed his brother and gave you both the biggest smile he could muster before mounting his broom to fly to his dorm. “I’m off to have a shower and hit the hay, being the best beater in Hogwarts has it’s toll on a man’s body ya know” a light yawn came from the boy’s mouth before he flew into the stars, the only thing you could see where his robes fluttering behind him.

Fred’s right arm makes it’s way around your shoulders and you lean into his side while wrapping your arm around his waist

“I don’t think you will ever fully understand just how much you mean to me, Freddie” you spoke softly

“y/n you mean everything and more to me.” His tired gaze found it’s way to you “I told you i’d give those nutters a fright, didn’t I? was only returning the favour, really. Couldn’t let them misplace a hair on your head now could I?” He spoke a-matter-a-factly and your other arm wrapped around his middle, with him placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head

“we bleed red and gold, baby. I’m always gonna have your back, on and off the pitch; I’m in it for the long haul” your head tiredly cuddled into his chest

“In it for the long haul, ay? good ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

#fred and george #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #fred weasley #gryffindor #harry potter #harry potter fic #pegswrites

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jollynonsense · 7 years

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you know when you worry about something and you blame past-self for not addressing it and you have to wait until some time in the future before you can do something about it so you’re stuck in the middle of “I need to fix this” and “I can’t fix this until days from now”

like why do i gotta be all anxious and worrying over stuff and fretting at 2AM I literally can’t do anything about it and this is a sure fire way to have trouble falling asleep

my mom’s gonna come over and scold me if i’m up late again (if she catches me), but I feel like I need something to wash out this feeling before attempting sleep

#I have like fifty things i'm worried about at once and it's all related to upcoming cons #all of it #i'm so mad at myself for not preparing on time but it's too late to be mad at myself if that makes sense #like at this point blaming myself isn't gonna help the issue or make me sleep at ease #i just need to. accept that i've made mistakes. and do the best that i can do deal with it.#in other news i'm gonna be late on inktobers again and tbh i'm gonna let inktober slide while i try to deal with all this #i'll play catch up on the plane flights to canada next weekend #jollynonsense rambles

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bangtan · 4 years

Text

BTS Talk Inspiration Behind "Dynamite," New Album, Gratitude For ARMY & More

"Even in the midst of hardships, we must focus on what we can do," the South Korean superstars tell GRAMMY.com

Today, Aug. 21, after several weeks of teasers, K-pop superstars BTS have released their first English language track, "Dynamite," a jubilant disco-tinged bop meant to inspire joy and hope during these difficult times. "[The inspiration for] it all began from this: even in the midst of hardships, we must focus on what we can do. As for us, we found freedom and happiness in singing and dancing. This song goes to the ones who need encouragement. We hope people feel energized when listening to the song," the chart-topping band recently told GRAMMY.com. Even in such an unprecedented year of turmoil and slowdown for the entertainment industry (and virtually everyone), BTS have been able to maintain their stance at the top of the global pop landscape. After having to cancel their massive 2020 Map Of The Soul World Tour, the South Korean group, already having a super engaged online presence with their huge ARMY of dedicated fans, got creative and delivered a lively, colorful—and wildly successful—pay-to-view virtual concert, BANG BANG CON: THE LIVE, in June. This year, the loveable pop stars also led by example of what it means to be a positive force in the world, using their platform for good in many ways. In June, along with their South Korean management company, Big Hit Entertainment, they donated $1 million to Crew Nation to support out-of-work concert crews and $1 million to the Black Lives Matter Foundation. (Just 24 hours later, the BTS ARMY matched the donation by raising more than $1 million.) They also stood in solidarity with the Black community with a simple yet powerful Tweet that made their stance against racism clear. And, of course, they've also been busy working on new music, delivering "Stay Gold" and their fourth Japanese album, MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 ~The Journey~, in June and July, respectively. Now, with "Dynamite," we get the first taste of the forthcoming new album they've been focused on crafting. To hear more about "Dynamite," the upcoming project, the ARMY and other BTS 2020 highlights, we checked in with the dynamic septet (consisting of RM, Jin, SUGA, j-hope, Jimin, V and Jung Kook) over email. Read on to hear more from BTS.

What was the inspiration behind your new song, "Dynamite"? What do you hope listeners feel when they hear it?

BTS: It all began from this: even in the midst of hardships, we must focus on what we can do. As for us, we found freedom and happiness in singing and dancing. This song goes to the ones who need encouragement. We hope people feel energized when listening to the song.

"Dynamite" is your first song sung/rapped fully in English--how did you prepare for the recording and who wrote the lyrics?

BTS:: It was a new challenge for us as well. The lyrics, which are exactly what we wanted to say to our listeners, were written by David Stewart and Jessica Agombar. At the first try, it sounded fresh and perfect as it is in English, and throughout the whole process of recording, we've strived to get the message delivered flawlessly in English.

Can you tell us more about the new album you've said is coming later this year? What kind of sounds and themes are you exploring on this project?

BTS: We're currently working on a new album and sharing the process with our fans via livestream. Each member's input has been significant for this particular one, so we're kind of doing everything we've wanted to try. It's slated for later this year and more details are coming soon.

In February, Map Of The Soul: 7 became your fourth album to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, with your highest first-week numbers yet. What does the success of this album mean to you?

BTS: We cannot be thankful enough to our fans. They made this possible.

You've all released music as solo artists—what does it feel like working on your individual projects versus BTS? What's the biggest thing you've each learned from your solo projects?

RM: It feels like I have two completely different identities. Working as BTS, I have to be considerate of others, but at times it also means I just have to do my part well and the rest will roll. When working individually, I definitely have more freedom but less of the sense of comfort and belonging I can feel when working with the other BTS members. Jin: I can do whatever I want when I work alone, whereas we all need to be on the same page on concepts, melodies and lyrics for a collective project. SUGA: [For me,] there's not much of a difference in terms of process. It's just really encouraging to have my team by my side and work together on a BTS album. j-hope: I get to know about my shortcomings from a solo project. We have many people participating in our team projects, including producers. But a solo project is a direct result of the planning and execution done by myself, which helps me better understand feedback from the public—those are valuable takeaways. Jimin: I focus more on my personal thoughts when I work alone, whereas working together allows me to contemplate more on the things we experience as a team. I also believe that solo projects are additional activities enabled by BTS. V: I'm currently working on my own mixtape and I must admit there's a lot of pressure. I think there's more to think about compared to group projects. Jungkook: I don't think I can call myself a solo artist yet since I'm short of many things. I really need to improve. I'll keep listening and making music until I'm able to come up with something on my own.

Your virtual BANG BANG CON show was a huge success—what did it feel like to all of you to connect to the ARMY in this way? Do you think you'll plan another one?

BTS: We were so happy to be performing for our fans. Yes, we did miss their loud cheers, but we gave it our all thanks to the love sent by our fans from near and far. We're actually holding another show in October called "BTS MAP OF THE SOUL ON:E" and this time it will be both virtual and offline. We're so excited and thrilled to finally meet our fans in person.

As a group, you've stood in solidarity with Black Lives Matter on Twitter and with a generous donation in partnership with Big Hit. As non-Black allies, why is it important for the group to speak out and join the Black community in solidarity?

BTS: We think our Twitter message speaks for itself. We stand against racial discrimination and condemn violence. We all have the right to be respected. It doesn't matter whether we are non-Black or not.

What's next on the horizon for BTS?

BTS: As we mentioned, we have a show in October and an album coming later this year. And we have lots of things prepared surrounding "Dynamite," so everyone better keep their eyes on the ball!

#bangtan #bts #rm #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #v #jungkook #t:interview #200822

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ellaenchanting · 4 years

Text

Hypnovember Day 5: Visor

Dawson has known that Dragoncon was massive (the crowds had been squishing her for over a decade at this point) but she was surprised how many members of the 501st were both attending the con and this into hypnokink. She thought she might get one or two Stormtrooper cosplayers who agreed to her idea. Maybe 3.

But she never imagined that she would command a legion of 8.

I guess it made sense that people who liked the idea of being a faceless agent under the control of an evil empire might also like the idea of being that Empire’s brainwashed drone. In retrospect, it was just a small step.

Besides, everyone knew stormtroopers were kinky.

Dawson had needed to work double time to make new custom visors and headphones that would fit into each soldier’s pre-existing armor. The cost was also going to be significantly more than she had guessed- she was going to have to skip meals out next month.

When she tested out a helmet on her first trooper, though, she knew that this would be worth it.

She invited her participants to her house on Thursday for a precon get-to-know-you and brainwashing slumber party. Cookies were eaten and knee plates were polished and around 6pm everyone had tested their new hypnovisors for fit and technical functioning.

It was time.

Dawson waited until everyone was in the living room and there was a lull in the chatting before she cried, “Imperial soldiers! AttenSION!”

8 postures went rigid and faces went blank at once. Apparently, they had all been listening to the file she sent out weeks before just like she had instructed.

“Sit!” she said.

They all sat at once, still maintaining a rigid posture.

Perfect.

She placed the new improved helmets with their new improved visors and earbuds on each blank face, heading back over to her computer array after they were all done to make sure the eye positioning seemed correct. She selected “full screen” on her self-made app and heard the corresponding whir of the small screens descending to fully cover each soldier’s eyes.

She looked through her visuals list and chose something appropriately hypnotic to play in front of each soldier’s eyes. She pressed the “select” button. She then held down the speak button.

“Attention soldier. Salute!” All 8 cosplayers saluted as one. One on the end stood as he saluted. (Matthew, Dawson remembered.)

“Trooper TX425- sit!”

He sat.

“Soldier- Repeat: “I am a soldier of the Empire!”

8 mechanized voices repeated. “I am a soldier of the Empire!”

“I am a tool of the Empire!”

“I am a tool of the Empire!” the tiny voices repeated.

“Good! I give my life to the Empire’s command!

“I give my life to the Empire’s command!”

“I give myself to the Empire’s will!”

“Long live the Empire!”

“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!” she shouted.

“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!” the voices cried back.

“Soldier- at ease. You have come here today for some special training for our upcoming mission this weekend. You will comply with all training. You will raise your hand if you have a question or a concern. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” the voices cried out at once.

Excellent. She took her finger off the “speak” button and started the “brainwashing1” program. Leaning next to one helmet, she could hear her voice coming through the headphones and see the flashing lights through the cracks.

Wonderful.

Keeping an eye on the feed from the camera she’s placed in the room, she went to prepare her Imperial Admiral costume for tomorrow. With luck, she’d have time to watch a Buffy episode of two while the program cycled. She couldn’t wait to be escorted around the con by her deeply brainwashed Imperial soldiers.

#hypnovember #crack fic #i miss dragoncon #story that stops before much of anything actually happens

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lixie-lovie · 4 years

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Coincidence | skz

Chan x Reader

producer!chan x reader

Summary: This wasn’t exactly how you expected to meet the producer of your first comeback song, but...

Genre: fluff; idol!chan, producer!chan, idol!reader (solo)

Word Count: 2k words

Warnings: A few swear words but that’s about it.

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You are late. You are so damn late. It is your first day being tasked with working with a new producer at your company. A producer who will be helping you with a few of your new songs for your first comeback. You have never personally met him, but you have heard many things about him. One thing you know for sure though is that everyone has told you this guy does not like to wait around and you are so fucking late.

You were so busy preparing your schedule for all of the upcoming shoots and recording sessions last night that you passed out at your desk during the early hours of the morning. Only to find that you had forgotten in the midst of things to set your alarm for your 11 o’clock meeting with your new producer Bang Chan. When you woke up at 12 o’clock and had 17 missed calls from your manager you knew you were screwed. So, while muttering every prayer you could think of so that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot, you did everything you could to speed run your morning routine to make it to the recording studio while your producer was hopefully still there.

After haphazardly putting yourself together trying to rush to your car you realized you hadn’t brought yourself anything to eat and you had definitely missed breakfast. After mulling over the pros and cons you decided fuck it and made a right turn to head toward the nearest Starbucks knowing recording sessions for hours without food would probably only piss your new producer off. Besides, you were already late and you had heard he liked coffee. Hopefully getting him some on the way would be enough to forgive you.

After ordering your favorite drink, snack, and something for Bang Chan too you walked out of the small restaurant as quickly as possible. As you opened the doors to the cool air, you took a moment to breathe and collect yourself. You felt almost peaceful for the first time this morning before a sudden shout could be heard from behind you that was getting increasingly louder.

“Hey! HEY!!! That’s my car!” You watched in awe as the young man who was just behind you shoved you aside, made you spill the drinks you were holding, and continued on without even stopping to look at you as he saw the truck pulling away with his car attached. Fuming, you continued to watch with clenched teeth as he cursed and pulled out his phone from a black bag on his shoulder. You looked down at your now ruined white dress shirt and sighed, running your hands through your hair. Picking up one of the soiled cups in a tight fist you clenched your jaw and began to march your way up to the perpetrator.

“Hey! Who do you think you are, huh? I get you’re in distress but watch where you’re going!!” You yell as you wave your now empty cup and point at your ruined shirt. He groans as he turns around to face you. His eyes widen as he stares down at you. Your breath quickly gets caught in your throat as you choke down any further complaints. Once you get a good look at his face you almost completely forget about your anger. He’s gorgeous.

Right as you remember why you’re standing there and that you should be on your way to the studio right now you notice his expression change. He narrows his eyes at you and licks his lips before turning around to completely ignore you and walk away while muttering something to his phone that sounds awfully like “Felix, how am I supposed to get to the studio now?” And “that meeting was supposed to be an hour and a half ago!”

You feel the anger slowly leaving your body as you realize he probably is extremely frustrated and didn’t mean to bump into like that. You bite your lip as you contemplate what to do next. Taking a few cautious steps forward you try to listen for a break in his conversation to say something to him when he suddenly sighs deeply and says “I guess I’ll just take a cab..”

He then drops his phone into his bag quickly to haphazardly run his hands through his hair. While you’re watching and waiting tentatively to speak you barely catch him whisper, “Shit, I don’t have enough money on me for a cab all the way to JYP.” Suddenly, you have an idea. You slowly walk up to him so as to not startle him and gently tap on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m sorry for yelling at you before. Uhm.. you sound like you’re heading for JYP? I have a proposition for you..” He slowly begins to lower his hands and brings his eyes up to meet yours. One you’re making eye contact you find it hard to elaborate. He then tilts his head with a subtle eyebrow raise to urge you to continue. “You got your car towed and need a ride. You then spilt my coffee on me. We both seem to be running late, and I have a car, but no money. How about if you agree to buy me two new cups of coffee then I will give you a ride to JYP myself! Free of charge!” You say with as bright a smile as you could muster.

He watches you for a moment, taking in how you’re fiddling with the empty cup and shifting your weight on your feet in an anxious manner. It wasn’t until you began looking away and awkwardly coughing that he realized he hadn’t spoken yet. He slowly begins to smile and says, “I don’t even know you. You could be a murderer.” You slowly lose your smile as your cheeks begin to go red and your ears begin to feel hot.

“You’re the one who spilled my drink on me! I just thought you could use some help today!! Besides we both work for the same company so ugh!!” You speak quickly, embarrassing yourself further. He chuckles to himself, now noticing how cute you look flustered. Once you collect yourself enough to start thinking about retracting your offer he cuts you off.

“So, what coffee will it be?”

A few minutes later you two are standing silently in line for your new coffee. After a few minutes he looks at you sheepishly. “I’m really sorry about your shirt and about wasting your time here today, but I really appreciate this.” You smile as he rubs the back of his neck and tell him he doesn’t need to be sorry. Right as you two begin to silently stare at each other you both startle when you hear someone yell.

“Bang Chan!”

You immediately jump into action looking in every direction and tucking into yourself as much as possible as to not be noticed by the probably more than annoyed, old, cranky, not to be messed with, new producer you were supposed to be working with. Almost simultaneously though, the got-his-car-towed boy swiftly walks up to the counter and takes the drinks being held out to him by the barista. Your arms fall limp to your sides as your jaw goes slightly slack in shock. Surely there can be two Bang Chan’s in Korea right? This definitely isn’t the guy who’s producing your new comeback album...right?

The guy (Chan?) walks back over to you and smiles. “So, I guess you owe me a ride.”

“I guess I do.” You say slowly. Coming to the realization you probably don’t want to ask if your assumption is correct for a multitude of reasons, you put on your best smile. Quickly you pull your keys out and nod your head in the direction of your car. “Let’s go.”

The beginning of the ride was uneventful enough. Just even silence that felt comfortable until Chan (?) started fidgeting. Taking this as a sign of discomfort you decided to break the ice. “So, uh, are you okay? It seemed like you were having a pretty eventful day back there.” You smile kindly.

“Oh! I almost completely forgot about that. I’m sorry again by the way!” He says while turning to look at your face in a cutely curious way. “By the way,” he says nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I never did catch your name..”

“Ah. I’m sorry! I completely forgot about introducing myself. Today has been pretty hectic.” you say thoughtfully and with a breathy laugh. “My name is y/n.”

“That’s a really pretty name! And I’m sorry your day has been bad. My name is Bang Chan. Most people just call me Chan though.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “I know you said you work with JYP and you do seem kind of familiar.. What is it that you do??”

You feel your heartbeat slow down in your chest. It’s now or never to test your hunch. You smile nervously. “I’m a new artist. I was supposed to be there a few hours ago for a meeting with a new producer, but I ended up super late and then a pretty boy ended up knocking my apology coffee all over me. I hope he’s not going to be too mad at me..” You trail off at the end hoping regardless of who producer Chan may be that they aren’t angry with your absence of punctuality.

“Really?! That’s cool!” He pauses, “not the being late, me spilling coffee all over you, and him being mad at you but the other stuff.” He takes another pause to chuckle nervously. “I am actually a producer with JYP, but I was running late this morning after a few nights of some extensive work because I was supposed to meet with a new idol on their comeback album this morning. I never made it and my laptop with my work and their contact information was in my car when it got towed.” He purses his lips. “I hope they didn’t get the wrong impression. I was super excited to work with them after hearing their samples.”

At this point you’re having a hard time breathing. You bite your lip and try not to seem as shocked as you are. “I’m sure they will understand completely as soon as you contact them. Also I hope the stuff with your car goes well..” you say with a smile that seems forced even to you.

He smiles back regardless. “And I hope the stuff with your producer goes well. Though I’m sure he won’t be mad after he gets this coffee, this is my favorite too!” He says with a laugh. You assume he was just trying to keep lighthearted conversation. You begin to let your thoughts drift as you near your destination and see Chan gathering his things.

So this is Bang Chan. You assumed he would be older, meaner, more gruff and straight to the point, but he was kind, warm, happy, and everything producers usually never are. You sincerely hope you won’t miss your next recording session with him. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t the ugliest either.

After you park and get out of the car Chan insists on walking you to the studio door. Once you’re there he stops and turns to you, handing you the coffees with a big smile. “Thank you so much for today. I really appreciate it and have enjoyed talking with you a lot today. I don’t know how I could repay you.”

You look at him and slowly grin, “No need to repay me. Your company and the coffee is good enough for me!” You giggle shortly and look up at him brightly, “I guess it’s time to get to work now. I’ll be seeing you around.” You laugh as you say this. He doesn’t know why. Mentally he’s already thinking of the ways he’s going to get to work as he smiles at you. Slowly he turns to walk away as you walk through the studio door. He’s just about completely lost in thought before he freezes in the middle of the hallway. He slowly begins to grin to himself as he turns back to look at the door again.

He rushes back up to the door, laughing as he realizes it was his studio you just entered. He takes a breath and pauses before entering himself as he thinks about what you said earlier, realizing you had pieced it together quicker than him. He chuckles softly as he turns the door knob and finds himself giddy at the idea of his favorite coffee and a recording session with someone he hopes will be a new, reoccurring coincidence in his life.

—••—

Authors Note:

Hello few people who are going to see this! This is my first ever published fic and I hope you enjoy it!

I may not post much very quickly on this blog, but I do hope to be able to post some fics in my spare time. Hopefully giving back to the community like this will bring a smile to someone’s face! :)

Taglist: @elcie-chxn (a big thank you to this sweetie 🥺)

#bang chan #stray kids #chan #chan x reader #stray kids x reader #straykids #idol!chan #this is my first fic ever go easy on me plz #stay #skz #skz chan #chris bang #bang chan x reader

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

here is the second last part besties wahhh I'm so sad its coming to an end!! I'm also so sorry about this part, it'll break a few hearts :'( Love always, Steph xx

Part 11 | parte undicesima

warnings; heartbreak, swearing & angst - i'm sorry in advance. word count; 2185 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. final update; Wednesday 18/08 5pm AEST. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

A few days had passed since the Villa match and Amelia had heard from Jack when he returned to Birmingham. He sent her a simple text to let her know he made it home. That’s it. The two went from previously not going more than 24 hours between FaceTimes or calls or memes to a simple made it home a few hours ago, thanks for a good time x.

No “speak soon”, no promise of a FaceTime , no double kiss at the end of the text that would have typically been there otherwise. If anything, she was more mad that he made her feel like a side piece; like one of his instagram girls that she knew he entertained throughout the week. Amelia knew that she, for lack of better terms, fucked up. She fucked up their friendship, and was praying to all of the Gods that would listen to help her not fuck things up with Ben, too. However, the fact that she didn’t go to church as often as she should have is probably the reason that Ben refused to make eye contact with the girl. It was either that or…he already knew.

“Benj, hey, wait up.” She called as he walked out to his car after a particularly long day at Cobham.

“Don’t call me Benj,” he coldly stated without turning around, continuing his stride.

“Okay fine, Chilly. Wait up will you!”

“Don’t call me Chilly either, that's reserved for friends.”

“Okay, if I can’t call you Benj, or Chilly, what can I call you?”

“The best mate of the guy you fucked multiple times on Saturday night” He spat out at her, as he finally turned around, ready to see the shocked look cast over Amelia’s face as she stood a couple feet away from him. He wasn’t expecting to see Mason at his car, just across the way or Jorgi at his, a few cars down. But they were there and it didn’t matter; they were going to find out sooner or later, anyway.

“He told you.”

“He told the group chat, Amelia. The fucking group chat! How does that make you feel? He’s already bragging about it. Your bed isn't even cold yet! It probably doesn’t bother you that much though - you’re just like him.”

“He fucked you when he knew exactly how I felt about you, having gone to him for advice as to how to apologise to you. I called him on Friday after I left your house and gushed to him like a bloody little girl because I was so happy you forgave me, and that we had kissed. And then, just like that, you let him weasel his way between your legs.”

“I know I should be taking this out on him, and I will don’t worry, but you knew what you were doing also. You knew exactly how I felt about you. I was ready to commit to you that night and you said you wanted to be friends, that you needed time to heal or whatever. So I hope you’re happy and are healing, because I take it all back.” With that, Ben turned around and got in his car, driving away from the girl who felt remorse worse than she ever has in her life.

Witnessing the whole exchange, Jorgi gave Mason a nod to say “go check on Ben, I’ll look after Amelia” and walked up to the girl from behind. Without scaring her, he firmly grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest where she let go of all of the emotions she had been keeping inside. With every stab of the knife that was Ben’s words, she felt herself becoming more vulnerable and exposed than ever before. She refused to let him see her cry. That wasn’t something she was willing to let anyone see; she didn’t realise all she had been holding together until she no longer had to, until she had the physical support of Jorgi holding her up in the middle of the training ground car park.

Ushering her to his car - she could collect her own another day - Jorgi put her inside before any other first team members - or worse, staff members - could see the distraught girl and drove them both back to her place where he spent the rest of the evening comforting the girl and letting her know she wasn’t alone. He had even made a desperate call to Fede, asking for advice on how to cheer the girl up. Of course, her Italian ex-lover had been worried the moment his national teammate had told him that the girl was inconsolable and was just about ready to board a flight to her, but Jorgi had calmed him down too. Fede’s advice of coffee, warm pyjamas and clean sheets had done the trick of putting the girl to sleep for the night.

The next few days had come and gone, and the two heartbroken almost-lovers were back to the beginning - Ben ignoring Amelia and Amelia trying to get Ben in a room. But it wasn’t to be. Towards the end of the week, Amelia had received a phone call from Mr Mancini, formally inviting her back to the Italian National Team staff for the upcoming friendly matches and preparation for the 2022 World Cup. Without any hesitation, she accepted her role and began to prepare the necessary procedures that would need to be implemented or maintained during her time away with the Italian side.

Sharing the news with her fellow Italians, Jorgi and Emerson, she decided that she wanted to be the one to tell Ben. She wanted him to know, whether he cared or not, that she wasn’t running away from him and that she would see him soon.

“Chilwell, please stay behind after the session.” She decided it was best if she requested it in the company of the rest of the first team and also the staff members. She was being selfish but she didn’t want him to run away from her again.

He remained sat in his seat as the rest of the team and professional staff left for the evening. Arms crossed, slouched down, looking at everything else in the room but the girl who was nervously wringing her hands together.

“I’m leaving for international duties tomorrow morning.” With that sentence, he stopped tapping his left leg and looking at the cornice details. Instead, his attention was focused on her.

“But we don’t break up for internationals for another week.”

“I know, but Mancini has requested I come earlier to settle back into things over there.”

“It’s only an hour flight away, how difficult could it be?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”

Silence. Ben didn’t have an answer for her. Of course he didn’t want to see her around Cobham on the day-to-day basis they currently had to endure, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to go back to Italy. Even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Especially if it meant she was around Fede again.

“Well, much to your dismay I'll be back here in 3 weeks. And, Italy are playing England in the last friendly match of the break.”

With a slight nod of his head, Amelia presumed that their conversation was done with. She turned to gather her paperwork and heard the chairs behind her move, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She sighed into her hands. How did she let this happen? She preached to Ben how much she didn’t want to be selfish with his heart, and that's exactly what she did. But hey, it takes two to tango. Deciding there was no time like the present, she dialed the contact that once made her smirk but instead only made her furious to look at.

“Amelia, hey, how are you? Sorry it’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”

“Cut the crap Jack, you never intended to keep this friendship after you got what you were after.”

“Excuse me? You wanted it just as bad as I did.”

“You’re right about that, I thought I wanted it. Now, though, all I feel is regret. You know Jack, I knew from the moment we met that you were just my type, the kind that only calls me late at night. I knew a guy like you, and he treated me more or less the same. I gave myself to him, over and over for the better part of 3 years, and it was only when I left that he decided I might have been worth it... worth him.”

“But not you, you couldn’t help but run to your group chat and brag about your latest conquest, about how you made me feel wanted, only to rip it all out from under me the next morning and every day since. Honestly Jack, I think it's time you grew up a little. For Ben to confide in you how he was feeling and for you to just have blatant disregard for your so-called best mate. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I know I'm in the wrong here too, but you are his best mate for crying out loud! How could you do this to him?”

“I don’t even want to hear what you have to say, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lose my number Jack, find some other hopeless girl that you can lure in with your foolish words and sweet nothings because I’m done. I’m done with whatever this was to you.”

______________________________________________________________

“You’re probably not going to believe me, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you here,” I heard from behind me, spinning around on my heels to see the ever-charming, boyish grin I used to love with my whole heart. This time, it's a different kind of love - it's an unconditional love shared between two people that are glad to exist together in the same crazy world.

“Federico, amore mio.” (Federico, my love) I stood up from my place on the bench at the Technical Headquarters and Training Ground of the Italian Football Federation, bringing the taller, heavily tattooed man into my arms. A gentle rock from him, side to side, to let me know that he can feel the weight of my moral compass.

“Vieni, cammina con me” (come, walk with me) He looped our arms together, and we strolled around the perimeter of the pitch that I was using to visualise my plays for the upcoming games. By the time we made it to the first set of goals, Fede had had enough of letting me mull over my own thoughts.

“Tesoro, Jorgi called one night a couple weeks ago. As smart as he is, it turns out he is hopeless at calming down an emotional female. While I'm not proud of knowing exactly how to calm you down, being that it was more often than not my fault you were inconsolable in the first place, I had to get some information out of him as to who upset my favourite girl in all of England.”

So I launched into the story, telling him everything from Mykonos to that fateful night a few weeks ago. Fede being Fede, he wanted to know everything, but I stopped just short of letting him know how many times Jack took me to paradise (much to his dismay). By the time I had wrapped up, we must have walked the pitch at least 3 times in its entirety, before retiring to the centre circle where we sat on opposite sides of the half way line staring at each other.

“I’m sorry that I ruined you for any other man,” Fede spoke solemnly.

“Fede, no - it was my stupid mistake to sleep with Jack.”

“No, let me finish amore. I’m sorry that I made you love me so deeply, and convinced you that the way I treated you was the right way, that the way I was with you was what you expect in every man to come after me. This Jack, he sounds just like me about 5 years ago - before I met you. But Ben, he sounds like the man I am trying to better myself to be, to be the man that deserves the kind of love you have to give.”

“I want you to listen to me. You need to fight for Ben. From what I have heard from both yourself and Jorgi-”

“That boy cannot keep his mouth shut to save himself,” I muttered under my breath.

“Amelia, you have a heart that deserves to be loved. Open yourself up to Ben. Tell him how you feel. From experience, you are very hard to ignore when you’re so vulnerable. Be honest with him, apologise, make him feel wanted, not like a second choice. Let him know how much you care for him, and equally how much you want him to care for you. He will see your sincerity and realise just how truly irresistible you are.”

Part 12. | la parte finale

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loverofpiggies · 4 years

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Mini nervous rant under the read more:

Oh boy. Ooooh boy. So, the Corona virus is definitely making me nervous. Like, it wouldn’t so much, if I stayed at home most of the time, but convention season is starting very soon. Also, me and my other con art friends hear things through the grapevine all the time. Like, one convention had 70 artists drop from it, in fear of Corona virus stuff. There’s a chance large conventions might have to close, if it gets bad over here.

I get updates involving airlines, because of course I take them everywhere, and I’ve gotten updates stating, that to be prepared in case you’re flying somewhere, and the place you’re at gets quarantined and then you can’t leave- the chances of being stranded in places and flights apparently just-- dropping, are very high, and I’m very scared I might get completely stranded somewhere far from home.

Also, I have my anime face mask I bought like a year ago (so don’t worry! I’m not purchasing any that health officials might need!) and I have hand sanitizer, and I’ll be careful as all heck, even with all the travel I have to do....

But. If attendance at conventions drop-- will I even be able to pay my bills? I’ve been practically surviving off of ramen and the good grace of my room mates for months, prepping for this upcoming convention season. But. Will I be able to make it to all those locations? What if flights just shut down? What if so few people attend conventions, that I start ending up in the red for the first time in three years?

The end of this last year, I had some emergency flights I had to make, that cut into the savings I usually have to survive the winter, otherwise it wouldn’t have been so bad. But I thought to myself, ‘ah its okay, convention season is coming up, then you can pay off those credit cards, it’ll be fine’.

I was hoping to start truly saving up for my own home, save every extra penny for that, and if I have to put it off for a while longer because of a definite global issue, I understand completely. Like heck, this is scary for a lot of people, not just me! Even so--

I’m just so nervous. I know being nervous helps nothing? Like, logically, what could it even do to help? But at the same time. I can’t help it.

I know people who have done full-time convention work for 30 years. I know things ebb and flow. But this year was my first year having like, 12 conventions prepped by January! Two months later, I’m in 16 conventions! I’m so proud of how many I’ve been able to gather, to get into, and make very successful! It’s taken a lot of hard work, lots of research, trial and error, planning....

Of course I’m worried about the sick people, and if shows have to be cancelled for people’s safety, I understand. But what if I get stranded on the other side of the country? What if my monthly income drops? I’m not too scared of getting sick, since most cases are mild, but. I mean, what if I get sick? No way in hell can I be around people, I wouldn’t DARE put anyone at risk of getting infected if I got sick, but I think the incubation period is like, 2 weeks, maybe 3? Of isolation?

I’m sorry everyone. But my nerves have been getting worse and worse about this. I’ve been counting down the days my first major convention of the year hits (Planet Comic Con Kansas City) then right after, Lexington Comic and Toy Convention, then after that, Sabaku Con in Albuquerque. Like, I’m literally going to be in like 14 different states this year, minimum. If.... everything works out, I mean.

If I get stranded on the other side of the country, with an account in the red, I don’t know what I’ll do.

My thinking has become rather cyclical now, I apologize. I needed to let this out somewhere.

Will probably delete later, if I remember to.

#cqchat #its also making it genuinely hard to draw #cqueue #my nerves are bouncing me all over the place

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fykimtaehyung · 4 years

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BTS Talk Inspiration Behind "Dynamite," New Album, Gratitude For ARMY & More

Even in such an unprecedented year of turmoil and slowdown for the entertainment industry (and virtually everyone), BTS have been able to maintain their stance at the top of the global pop landscape. After having to cancel their massive 2020 Map Of The Soul World Tour, the South Korean group, already having a super engaged online presence with their huge ARMY of dedicated fans, got creative and delivered a lively, colorful—and wildly successful—pay-to-view virtual concert, BANG BANG CON: THE LIVE, in June.

This year, the loveable pop stars also led by example of what it means to be a positive force in the world, using their platform for good in many ways. In June, along with their South Korean management company, Big Hit Entertainment, they donated $1 million to Crew Nation to support out-of-work concert crews and over $2 million to the Black Lives Matter Foundation. They also stood in solidarity with the Black community with a simple yet powerful Tweet that made their stance against racism clear.

And, of course, they've also been busy working on new music, delivering "Stay Gold" and their fourth Japanese album, MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 ~The Journey~, in June and July, respectively. Now, with "Dynamite," we get the first taste of the forthcoming new album they've been focused on crafting.

To hear more about "Dynamite," the upcoming project, the ARMY and other BTS 2020 highlights, we checked in with the dynamic septet (consisting of RM, Jin, SUGA, j-hope, Jimin, V and Jung Kook) over email. Read on to hear more from BTS.

What was the inspiration behind your new song, "Dynamite"? What do you hope listeners feel when they hear it?

"Dynamite" is your first song sung/rapped fully in English--how did you prepare for the recording and who wrote the lyrics?

BTS: It was a new challenge for us as well. The lyrics, which are exactly what we wanted to say to our listeners, were written by David Stewart and Jessica Agombar. At the first try, it sounded fresh and perfect as it is in English, and throughout the whole process of recording, we've strived to get the message delivered flawlessly in English.

Can you tell us more about the new album you've said is coming later this year? What kind of sounds and themes are you exploring on this project?

In February, Map Of The Soul: 7 became your fourth album to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, with your highest first-week numbers yet. What does the success of this album mean to you?

BTS: We cannot be thankful enough to our fans. They made this possible.

You've all released music as solo artists—what does it feel like working on your individual projects versus BTS? What's the biggest thing you've each learned from your solo projects?

Jin: I can do whatever I want when I work alone, whereas we all need to be on the same page on concepts, melodies and lyrics for a collective project.

SUGA: [For me,] there's not much of a difference in terms of process. It's just really encouraging to have my team by my side and work together on a BTS album.

j-hope: I get to know about my shortcomings from a solo project. We have many people participating in our team projects, including producers. But a solo project is a direct result of the planning and execution done by myself, which helps me better understand feedback from the public—those are valuable takeaways.

Jimin: I focus more on my personal thoughts when I work alone, whereas working together allows me to contemplate more on the things we experience as a team. I also believe that solo projects are additional activities enabled by BTS.

V: I'm currently working on my own mixtape and I must admit there's a lot of pressure. I think there's more to think about compared to group projects.

Jung Kook: I don't think I can call myself a solo artist yet since I'm short of many things. I really need to improve. I'll keep listening and making music until I'm able to come up with something on my own.

Your virtual BANG BANG CON show was a huge success—what did it feel like to all of you to connect to the ARMY in this way? Do you think you'll plan another one?

What's next on the horizon for BTS?

BTS: As we mentioned, we have a show in October and an album coming later this year. And we have lots of things prepared surrounding "Dynamite," so everyone better keep their eyes on the ball!

#200822 #taehyung #v #bts #bangtan #t: interview

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nyullm2020 · 3 years

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A Day in the Life - NYU Law edition

I am blatantly stealing this idea from my fellow LLM Guide blogger at Berkeley, Nathaniel - but thought it might be helpful for those wanting to see what a day is like here in New York at NYU! This is a Thursday.

Morning

8:00am - wake up, lay around for a bit and feel deathly dehydrated from the built-in radiators in my building 😅There’s a blue sky today, but it is very deceptive - it’s cold!!

8:30am - make breakfast, usually a smoothie, cereal or avocado toast with a fried egg. Make my bed to feel minimally productive as well.

9:00am - Finish off my Constitutional Law readings before my 11am class and make my case briefs (with the facts, holding, dissents, etc for each case). I am very on top of readings for this particular class because my (excellent) professor, Melissa Murray, has a cold-calling system where she calls on people for detailed case-specific questions and hypotheticals without any advance notice. It’s a lot of work, and it probably takes me at least 3 hours to prepare for each of my 2 weekly Con Law classes - but it’s such a great subject taught by a fabulous professor, and I like being challenged to keep up.

10:00am - do an online core workout class through Zoom on the NYU Recreation website - I am much more motivated to do a scheduled class than to fit in a Youtube video, although I miss going to a real gym! A lot of my friends have started going to a cheap gym nearby, Blink, so I might join too.

11:00-1:00pm: Con Law class online with 110 other students. I don’t get called on, but I did volunteer at one point 😃At the moment, we are learning about fundamental rights protection under the Due Process Clause and Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment (protecting individual rights from undue interference by the States). We have just started on the right to procreate and the right to abortion before fetal viability - so the famous Roe v. Wade and other related cases, like Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992) were the topics of conversation today. It’s all very fascinating.

Afternoon

1:10pm: Go pick up a coffee (latte) nearby from one of my favorite local spots, like Banter, Citizens of Bleecker, Third Rail or About Coffee. It’s not cheap here, but it’s my daily treat! Make sure to keep an eye out for Cuomo....

1:30pm: Make lunch with whatever I have. If I’m feeling fancy, I’ll make some pasta with chicken, or maybe just avocado toast with eggs. I often go for lunch with another NYU LLM friend too and grab some ramen or sushi.

This was a little cherry tomato, basil and chicken fettucine I made 🤤

Here’s a chicken, kale, roast veg, avocado and feta salad I made the other week for lunch as well. I try to eat sort of healthy at home so I can eat allllll the cheesecakes and pizza when I go out.

2:00-2:30pm: Scheduled 1-on-1 check-in with my Government Anti-Corruption Clinic professor. She is fantastic, and we chat about how the class is going, my internship at the Brooklyn District Attorney’s Office Public Integrity Bureau, and my plans after the LLM. She gives me some great job search ideas.

2:30pm-3:30pm: Try to jam in some last minute reading before my Introduction to Civil Procedure Class on Zoom. This is all LLMs and I usually don’t finish the readings before this class, but there is no cold-calling. Sometimes we get to see our professor’s Welsh Terrier, Monty!

On days when I have less class, like Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I will often go to the library to motivate myself. I’m studying for the MPRE at the end of March (Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam, a component of the NY and California Bar exams), so I need all the motivation I can get!

When I go on campus, I have to complete one of these daily Covid screeners on my phone, and check my temperature with an NYU-provided themometer. Also, don’t forget your student card!

Night

5:30-6:00pm: Zoom call with a Litigation Attorney from my country as a bit of networking. I have a lot of these, and hopefully one will pay off in the form of a job opportunity! She was lovely - I found her through a bit of old-fashioned LinkedIn stalking. Send her my updated resume, and she sends me an email back and some study notes for the bar exam.

6:00-7:00pm: I have a witness preparation session with my ‘co-counsel’ student partner, Jessica (a JD student), and two undergrad pre-law students from NYU for my upcoming simulated trial for my Advanced Trial Simulation class, starting this coming Monday (spanning over two weeks). We run them through the direct examination questions we have drafted as they are playing the role of our lay witness and expert cardiologist witness, as well as cross-examination prep, and our case theory generally. I have a lot of work to do before I am ready to give our opening statement on Monday night, but it’s coming together!

7:00pm-8:30pm: Grocery shopping at a cute grocery store nearby. I love looking at all the freshly made pastas! I made a burnt butter ravioli with walnuts, pumpkin, spinach and sage, but forgot to take a photo of it - so here is all the fresh pasta and then some salmon I made the other week!

9:00pm- too late: Finish off some small tasks and face-time my good friend back home. She’s just moved to the beach, and I’m very jealous. Plan out my day for tomorrow, waste time on social media, hang out with my boyfriend after he finishes work for the day, and then relax before bed!

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