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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years ago

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MHA boys + how they would celebrate your birthday

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This was requested by @lovers-liability, I hope you like it!!!

Shouto Todoroki:

- He’s so sweet but so clueless about what to get you or how to celebrate with you

- Probably would ask your closest friends about your interests in order to get you the best gift he could get

- He doesn’t really have to worry about the cost of it (I mean, c’mon he’s got Endeavors card)

- He’ll take you out to dinner probs

- Tries to bake a cake - it doesn’t go well

- A good boyfriend, he tries his best

“Sho, tonight was amazing,” you hum, an arm laced with his. It was well into the night when the two of you made it back to the dorm building.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Shouto said, smiling at you. Dinner had been a real treat - the two of you dined at a fancy restaurant that you two had to get dressed up for. You wore a Y/F/C dress and Shouto was in a dashing gray suit with a tie matching your outfit.

“Liked it? I loved it! I don’t think I’ve ever had that good food in my life.” You sigh contently, a dreamy look on your face. As the two of you make your way through the common room, he stops you at the kitchen. You raise an eyebrow but follow him. To your surprise, he pulls out an... interesting looking cake.

“I, uh, I tried but I think I did something wrong.” He admits with a bashful expression. You stifle a laugh and take a fork out of the drawer next to you.

“Hey, if you made it, I’m sure it’ll be good.” You say confidently. You dig your fork into the near side of the cake and take off a chunk. It crumbled weirdly which wasn’t a good sign, but you stuck the slice in your mouth anyway. It was awful the moment it hit your taste buds but you managed to chew it anyways. You tried to give your boyfriend a smile, but an underlying sour expression forcibly showed up.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s probably foul-tasting.” Shouto says defeatedly. You quickly put your hands on his shoulders and shake your head.

“No, Sho, it’s so good.” You manage, the cake still in your mouth. The red-and-white hair boy just shot you an unamused look.

“Y/N, you have a horrified look on you face. It’s not good.”

“Yes it is I love it.” You counter.

“Then swallow it.” He says finally, a small smirk on his face. Your eyes go wide but you try and muster up the courage to swallow the piece of cake, if you could even call it that. Your mouth seemed to go dry - like all of the spit and saliva it produced had been sucked up by the cake, but it was still just as crumbly as before. “See, you can’t. Now here,” Shouto says, raising a trashcan to your mouth. You spit out the cake but show some decency by covering the action with a hand.

“I’m sorry Sho. It’s just... I never thought a cake could be made and come out like... that.” You mumble, wiping the corner of your mouth. He chuckles and hugs you.

“I’m the one that should be sorry, it’s your birthday. Now c’mon, I’ll call one in to be delivered. Chocolate or Vanilla?”

Katsuki Bakugou:

- He will by you gifts but play it off as not a big deal

- “Don’t be an idiot it’s just a stupid (insert gift here)

- HE MAKES THE BEST BIRTHDAY CAKE

- Like seriously whatever cake flavor or type of cake he will make it and it will be absolutely delicious

- Cheescake? In his sleep. Ice cream cake? Been there done that. Flan? Hell yeah, he’s got it.

- All in all, when you get to celebrate your birthday with him, it’s a very fun time with Bakugou

“Katsuki, it’s perfect!” You exclaim, setting your gift back down in its tissue paper padded box.

“Tch, it’s not something to be all over-dramatic about.” Your boyfriend says, rolling his eyes. Although he tried to put up an apathetic appearance, you could see the faint inkling of a blush start to blossom on his cheeks. You lace your arms around his neck, causing the blonde-haired boy to look at you.

“I love it, and you.” You say, your fingers starting to play with his hair. A soft look flashes in his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I was being serious, it’s perfect.” You reach up to give him a peck on the lips. Bakugou hums as you rest your head on his chest.

“Happy Birthday,” he says simply, one of his hands reaching up to rest on your head. You sigh happily at the added comfort. “C’mon, let’s eat the cake I made.” You raise your head instantly, a grin spreading across your cake.

“You made me a cake?” You ask joyfully, following him to the refrigerator.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says. The blush on his cake was now fully apparent as he took a plate that was covered in tin foil out. When he unwraps it your jaw drops. It was perfectly made. You fumble around for a knife and cut a slice for both you and him to eat. As soon as you fork a piece into your mouth you wanted to collapse onto the floor. It was heavenly - perfectly moist, the frosting not too sugary, and the ratio was perfect.

“My god Katsuki, you really made this?” You say, quickly finishing the rest of your slice.

“Of course I made it dumbass, you think I would get you store-bought crap for your birthday?!” He grumbles, a glare on his face. You really couldn’t take him seriously, though, as he talked with a mouthful of cake.

“Thank you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his mouth. Both yours and his lips tasted like frosting, making both of you irresistible to the other. You left the cake sitting on the counter for a while, finding each other much more sweet than the dessert.

Izuku Midoriya:

- He is so much fun to celebrate with

- He’ll take you to an amusement park, treat you to a spa day, go to the hot springs

- Literally anything you want to do for your birthday he will make sure that it happens

- Will get a cake from the store because while he’d like to make you one, he just doesn’t want to risk messing it up

- He gets you such a cute gift that goes along with whatever your interests are

- 10/10 sweetest birthday ever

It was one of the most relaxing days you have had in a while. Izuku knew you were up to your nose in work, so what better to do than spend your birthday by unwinding? Currently the two of you were sat in a private hot springs just north of you and Izuku’s home, soaking up the hot water. With a glass of champagne in one hand and the other held by Izuku, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

“You enjoying yourself, love?” You open the eye closest to your boyfriend to see an amused expression on his face. You smile and close your eyes again, drifting over to lay your back against his built chest.

“Very much Izu, thank you for taking me here.” You sigh as you feel his hand come up to massage the knots in your back. He hums and kisses your shoulder.

“Of course - you’ve been so busy lately that I thought you could use a special getaway. Plus, it’s your birthday.” He says, his arm now just hung around your shoulder. He reaches for his own glass with his other hand. You open your eyes and turn around to face him, a soft look on both of your faces.

“You know, a day at home would’ve been just as fine. You didn’t need to go all out like this.” You say, your mouth spreading into a shy smile. A small moment of panic goes through Izuku at your words.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, was this too much? I thought that it might’ve been too much when I made the reservations but I did it anyways -mmpf!” You cut off his ramblings with a passionate kiss. He eases instantly at your touch and sinks into the kiss.

“This is absolutely perfect.” You reassure him. He gives you a grin and holds your chin gently in his fingers.

“Happy birthday, darling.” He whispers, bringing you back to his lips.

Mirio Togata:

- Human form of sunshine

- He’ll take you to the beach or for a picnic in the park, just somewhere a little more intimate but still out in the world

- He will prepare lunch for the two of you and cut the fruit into cute shapes (he is so pure I cannot)

- He makes a pretty good birthday cake, I’m not gonna lie

- He gives you a gift and has the thing matching it for him (like bracelets, rings, necklaces; that kinda thing)

- A very fun and relaxed birthday with our blonde 3rd year <3

It was the perfect day. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the temperature was lovely - not hot enough to make you sweat but not cold enough that it would require a jacket. Spread before you was a cute little red picnic blanket covered in plates of finger foods, a pitcher of lemonade with two glasses, and who looked to be the happiest man alive.

“Oh, Mirio, it’s lovely,” you say, slightly taken aback. He gave you a wide smile and offered you a hand, helping you sit down next to him gently. He pecks your cheek and offers you a platter of your favorite h’orderves.

“I’m glad you like it! I’ve got all of your favorites, and I thought we could just enjoy a nice day at the park for your birthday. Sound like a plan?” He asks you happily, his arm finding its way wrapped around your waist. You lean into his touch and smile.

“It sounds perfect.” Your afternoon was full of fun and laughter - throwing foods up into the air for the other to catch, trying to fly a kite but it eventually ending up tangled in a tree, and stealing kisses from each other. Finally, the sun was starting to go down, prompting the two of you to start packing up everything.

“Y/N, before you go, I have something for you.” Mirio says, gaining you attention. In his hand was a wrapped box with a little bow on top.

“Mirio Togata, you did not get me a gift after doing all this for me.” You say, hands on your hips. You couldn’t believe how caring and giving your boyfriend was - always going one step above and beyond what you thought was reachable.

“Open it.” He says simply, placing the little gift in your hands. You give him a look before tugging the ribbon undone and slowly peeling back the paper. What rested underneath was a velvet box. You sucked in a breath and looked back up at your boyfriend who had a grin on his face.

“Mirio, I swear.” You warn, carefully lifting the lid. What lay inside were two of the prettiest bracelets you had ever seen. They were both made out of a small silver chain and had a small rectangle charm on each. You flipped both of the charms over to reveal his and your initials.

“I thought it would be cute.” He says, lifting the one with his initials. Wordlessly he clasped it around your wrist. “You could wear my initials and I could wear yours.” You quickly clasped the bracelet with your initials around his wrist and grabbed onto his shirt’s collar, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

“You’re too good to me,” you say breathlessly. Mirio chuckles and brings a hand up to your face, tucking your stray hairs behind your ear.

“Happy birthday.”

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Temptation KTH X Reader

[Masterlist] Pairing: CamBoy!Taehyung x CamGirl!Reader Beta: N/A Genre: Romance, Angst, Fluff, NSFW, Smut Rating: 18+ Words: 3.7k Request: @pars-ley

Summary: You sign up for the world’s newest and sexiest Late-night Television program called ‘Temptation’. Where you are competing with nine other Cam workers to win One Million dollars. The catch? You can’t cum?

Warnings: Oral f & m recieving, Doms & Subs, Orgasm denial, Penetrative sex, Handjobs, Fingering, Vouyerism, Exhibitionism, Bratty, Daddy Kink, Impregnation Kink, Auralism (sexy sounds moans etc...), Orgy, Dirty talk, Group sessions.

You were a cam girl, but you had been recruited with the best of the best to participate in an elimination game show. Basically, you were not allowed to come, which didn’t include private masturbation unless you were with a housemate in the previous half-hour. The winner would win one million dollars.

There were a few catches, you were each given a phone that would give you commands on things you had to do with other contestants. You had permission to do anything to anyone if the phone told you so. So if you were told to give a blow job you could, but the male was not allowed to finish. Equally so if you were told one of the males could eat you out, you weren’t allowed to finish.

With a sigh, you sat in front of the camera and began talking about the first day while rewatching the footage. You were told to react as if it was happening and relay the thought you had in the moment. “right here I thought ‘oh it is going to be easy’,” I signed up to Temptation and I am going to win. I have to win, I am planning on paying out my family's mortgage and perhaps buying myself a home something permanent.”

You took a moment to pause and thought “it wasn’t the easiest growing up poor, I have a good job now and a good apartment but I don’t spend money on myself until my family are in a better position”

You met the other contestants and you could pick out which ones would go first, the ones who had no resolve. There were four doms and you knew you could get them in seconds. Everyone was dressed normally and you each took the time to greet one another.

This would be the easiest money you ever made. Everyone introduced themselves and their highlight cam videos appeared on the screen and you paled. Suga, RM, J-Hope, Honey, Jimin, lovelymi, Jungkook, EatJin. Names you hoped would “Hello, my name is V, I have been in the cam industry for about seven years, I do partner and solo videos, I am a switch.” His voice was so deep and it stirred something in you.

His videos started playing and he was grunting and fucking a girl. Him talking dirty while he used his hand, he was big and looked honestly amazing. He was holding a girl’s hair as he bucked into her mouth. All while looking and sounding so freaking sexy

“This be harder than I thought” you laughed “he is handsome and his voice is truly amazing, from a purely sexual point of view he is attractive”

“But what will his personality be like? That's the question. Things can make you excited but if he opens his mouth and is a jerk well that excitement plummets.

“Hey guys, My cam name is Baby, I have been in the cam business for a long time I can’t even remember, I am a submissive, I have done partnered and solo cam video” Your videos began playing, you were thankful for the quality of your videos and editing things looked desirable and left you wanting more. You acting like a brat and being punished. You acting submissive calling your cam partner Daddy.

This last one had the dom’s in the room squirming and you knew you had some power over them.

“I joined the cam industry because I was interested, I got to have pleasure in the privacy of my own house and get paid. I use a fake name and I entertain clients with videos. I choose what I do in the video if I don’t like it. I'm sorry, I choose who can watch me. If someone is acting rude or threatening I can kick them out the website and my setup at home is protected so common creeps cannot find me. The people I film with are people I trust and also work in the business”

You shrugged raising your hands up “I mean what can I say it all sounds like a great deal, orgasms and money what else do you want”

You smiled and the Host spoke over the PA, “Please check out your new rooms and your attire which has been carefully selected in your size. Relax and freshen up dinner will be served shortly.”

You stood up and looked innocently at the doms. “What should I wear for dinner mummy and Daddies?”

The four doms Suga, Jhope, Honey, and Jin looked at you with firm eyes. ��Would you like me to dress you, baby?” Honey asked

“Wear something pretty?” Jin said his voice firm as he walked off, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt as he walked down the hall.

“Wear something to impress daddy?” Jhope grinned and you went off to your room, looking through the cupboards and you thought the others would go for blatantly sexy but you actually snuck into Jin’s room while he was in the shower and stole his dress shirt and left, you made sure to wear a pretty set of white lace underwear but you didn’t put on shoes and you let your hair down and put on natural-looking makeup.

The shirt dwarfed you and you didn’t do up all the buttons at the top or bottom. Everyone walked out to dinner and you grinned. All the guys were either just in pants or in suits except Jimin and Jungkook who were in harness’. LovelyMi was wearing lingerie, big heels, and full hair and makeup. Honey wore leather and big shoes stepping out. You yawned pretending you woke up your hands unseen in the big sleeves.

“Is that my shirt?” Jin asked

“Daddy's shirt smelled so good?” Jin stirred, you bit back a smile and everyone started eating dinner and you reached for something and V made a small groan as the shirt fell open revealing your breast. You sat back down and grinned when Suga’s phone chimed.

“One of your well-known skills is Tongue technology, pick one girl and eat her out.” He said with a laugh.

“Suga, genius. The only two things you need to know” he shrugged looking at the floor. “Enough said”

He walked down the table and pushed your chair back. You looked up at him innocently. “Daddy is going to eat this pussy, is that okay my sweet baby?” Suga caressed your cheek, you did like praise.

“I want a different daddy” You huffed pulling off your underwear and throwing them at Jin. Suga pressed his tongue to his cheek, looking visibly pissed that you were questioning his authority knowing you were playing as the rules stated if you didn’t want to participate you would use the safe word.

“Spread your legs, brat” this was a command and your legs fell apart. He placed them on the arms of the dinner chair and V looked down swallowing hard trying not to look but you commanded his attention.

“What a pretty little pussy, for such a bratty girl” Suga smirked, wasting no time, you picked up your drink and drank it slowly thinking about the dinner. After the initial surprise, you knew you would be fine he wouldn’t get you to finish but he was so close.

Another phone went off and Jimin read aloud his instructions to give RM a blow job. You continued eating dinner zoning out completely you were pretty skilled at keeping yourself from cumming. What surprised you was when Jimin came it was the first night, but the boy had an oral fixation and that coupled with an audience and the moans around the room, he came while deepthroating RM.

You were sad to see him leave but you were thankful the orders for the night were complete.

“Suga has tongue technology all right but, there is one sure-fire way to put me on edge and that is with a deep voice. I cannot stand V’s voice it is way too sexy”

It had been a long first week, you had been drawn to the edge by Honey and had given a blow job to Jhope who held himself together with swears and shaky breath. You were all sitting in the pool at the end of the week and LovelyMi was eliminated. The fans had voted her out.

The next week saw Jungkook eliminated. Honey had him tied up and he couldn’t hold back. There was no voting elimination but there was a challenge. You had to answer sex facts to earn points. Some of the questions were how many times can a woman orgasm. You won and the hosts Adora and Pdogg asked how many times you had successfully finished.

“Eleven,” You said, “I could have kept going but I took a break and ended up falling asleep.”

“I am impressed?” RM grinned, he had got the next answer right and the two of you got to draw from the hat some cards.

“Hell yeah, I got a free finish card” You grinned

“I got an extended order time card” RM laughed and you both high fived and headed back to continue playing the game.

After a few games such as the fastest to dress in their role-play costume, you all picked what door you wanted and you laughed when you were dressed as a businessman, you laughed at the array of costumes but V was the winner having won wearing a nurses dress. Another game was won by Jin and it was called ‘whose lips are these?’ You each took turns being blindfolded and you were kissed by the others.

For you, Jin’s lips were the easiest to identify, followed by Honey’s and you just knew when a large hand took your waist and your heart sparked that it was V. Three out of six wasn’t too bad.

“They always guessed when it was me, do I kiss a certain way or weirdly?” You touched your lips confused and mumbled in an afterthought “I thought I kissed really well.”

You stepped up to V your heart racing nervously and you slipped your hand into his hair pulling his hair firmly and he groaned making you lick your lips. You kissed him and he kissed back his tongue entering your mouth and you pulled away watching him sigh in relief.

“I got every one of them wrong except her, there was something about how soft her lips were, and the way she tasted like strawberries it was kind of delicious.” V spoke his cheeks red “I want to kiss her again”

Jhope won a game of sex bingo where you had to mark off what you had done but the catch was there as like a hundred different things. Where you looked through your cam videos and marked off what was in each of them. Honey and Suga didn’t have a single card. V had a free from elimination card and Jin had a kink assisted order. Jhope won a group order card.

“Some would say, I am well versed in sex, and they would be right!” JHope laughed, clapping his hands. “I enjoy trying new things and well I have preferences but I can at least say I have tried it”

That week was fun, you had filed away the free finish card for when you needed it and hoped like hell you wouldn’t need it. RM used the time extend card for his order to fuck Honey but accidentally eliminated himself and Honey simultaneously.

Eliminations came along and Suga was the next to be voted out. There were four of you left. You and three males, this was going to become quite difficult. You were sitting on the couch watching movies with Jin when you got an order.

“Give a blow job to the nearest contestant” You smirked and sank to the floor unzipping Jin’s pants and you hit accept on the phone and got to work you had a time limit and you weren’t going to lose one million dollars because of a six-minute timer.

You used everything called him Daddy made all the right sounds and gave him all the right looks but he didn’t come. The timer rang and he grinned tucking himself away and you rested your head on his thigh. “Please daddy.”

“She is dangerous, I almost didn’t want to stop but I am here for the money, she isn’t playing around” Jin sighed “I can still hear her saying those words in my head and I want more than anything to continue our session.”

You noticed V in the kitchen with a piece of orange in his mouth, eyes wide he had seen everything and you blushed.

“That was the hottest thing I had ever seen, she really wanted to win and I am just thankful that it wasn’t an order for me” He shivered running his hand over his jaw. “I wouldn’t have made it, and I don’t know if I would try”

He looked at his hands ringing them out before looking up “She is my opponent and I will do my best to win against her!”

Jin had used a kink assisted and you were given headphones filled with V’s moans while Honey had given him a handjob last week.

“She either really likes V or she likes deep moans that is good to know?” He snickered “I think she is in love with V the two are smitten”

You bit your lip and turned to the camera’s “Oh this is playing dirty.” You hissed Jin was skilled with his fingers, he apparently played guitar and some piano but no matter how much he rubbed your G spot and clit at the same time. You weren’t going to come, even if V sounded sinful in your ears.

“There is nothing I want more than to win, but I almost didn’t think I was going to make it. Have you heard him, growling and moaning” You blushed burying your face in your hands “He is the only one who can make me lose this game”

You looked up and leaned back on the couch throwing one leg over the other. “So now we are all preparing for war”

Amongst all the sex, you and V grew close, the two of you Swam in the pool and played games, when you weren’t talking you were having deep conversations and at one point you even stayed up late chatting until he leaned in pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but kiss him back with similar vigor.

“Baby” Jhope called and showed you the screen of his phone reading out loud. “Jhope ten minutes with Baby everything except penetrative sex”

“Okay?” You nodded

“And I am calling the group card” he grinned

You were surrounded by all three men and they quickly discussed what they should do. JHope grinned, telling Jin to return the favor for the earlier blow job and V looked disappointed.

“I know why he chose me, I am called EatJin for a reason.” Jin explained seriously “these lips can devour women… and a good steak”

“Was I disappointed that JHope asked Jin-hyung to eat her out?” V scoffed a few times “me? never”

He got up out of his chair as he took his microphone off and walked away with a dark tone “What would ever give you that impression”

The next elimination saw JHope leave. And it was you and the two handsome young men, you understood why they weren’t voted out.

You had an amazing evening watching V give a rather enthusiastic Blow Job to Jin who came with a loud cry.

Now it was just you and V.

“Am I scared?” You laughed at the question, touching your mouth in thought. “Why because it’s just the two of us now”

“It’s her who should be scared?” V looked proud as he held an intense gaze.

“I do this for a living, why would I be scared?”

You tried to bluff unsuccessfully “I’m bloody terrified, Have you seen him he is handsome as hell and I know he will be the end of me”

“My biggest fear is not being able to stop. She is magnificent, we have gotten to know each other so much over the four weeks and she is cheeky and charming and sweet and I truly believe I love her.”

He licked his lips “it started out that I thought she was my type but it became that she was my everything”

When you woke its first day with just the two of you and he smiled over breakfast. “The house feels lonely without everyone doesn’t it?”

“The house feels too big and too cold” you mumbled.

You spent the week together which would be fast-forwarded on the week's episode.

“Today is the last day the challenge is going to be extreme,” he said, “you think you're ready for it?”

“Yeah, I think I am ready, what about you?”

“I think I am more nervous I wish we were on even grounds your free finish card has me worried”

“What I am about to do is either incredibly stupid or incredibly stupid” you buried your face in your hands.

“I would like to use my free finish card” you pulled the card out from the back of your phone. “You better be worth it?”

V’s mouth fell open in shock and you looked at him feeling a little mischievous.

“She is going to give up her free finish now so we fight an even and fair match tomorrow.” He said biting his lip “I love her, and I am not going to waste this moment I am going to rock her world”

You followed him to his bedroom. He held your hand the entire way and you grinned as he pressed you to the door. Kissing you hard and moaning into your mouth. He slipped his hand up your little skirt and plunged his fingers down the front of your underwear.

He didn’t let up and he was kissing and sucking at your neck before he moved you to the bed and buried himself between your legs he moaned the whole time and he was torturing you.

His tongue working magic on your clit and his long fingers curling up inside you. It wasn’t long before your legs began to tremble and you gripped the sheets as all the sexual tension that had been building up finally released causing your back to arch off the bed.

You shivered watching him lean back onto his heels and lick his fingers and palm with a soft moan. “You are delicious”

“I have made a mistake” you whispered quietly.

It was the big day you were both dressed immaculately and this was the moment of truth Adora and Pdogg watched from the sidelines beside the three judges.

“Now the rules are simple the first to cum loses the winner gets a million dollars”

“It is kind of weird knowing the finale is just the two of us having sex until someone finishes but hey who am I to judge. I am one of the people doing it”

You both went to the bed, there were cameras everywhere including inside you, that was a fun appointment. Even though it was a tiny little silicone camera on a fine cord, they were able to move the camera around by a remote so it was always in the correct position you would admit it was nerve-racking to have it inside you. V looked at you sitting on the bed with a nervous grin and you both hugged whispering under your breath.

“Are you as nervous as I am?” You whispered

“Yeah, I didn’t expect I would be having sex on late-night television”

“Yeah I agree”

“Do you think that after this, we could watch a movie or get something to eat?”

“I would love too” you breathed

Everything began and you were underneath V and he was working hard and a timer went off every ten minutes to switch positions so that you each got different stimulation and such.

You almost lost it while he fucked you from behind, you were clenching around him tightly trying to make him finish. He was grunting and growling.

Your mind was spinning and you whispered to yourself don’t come hoping you could convince yourself to hang in a little longer.

You switched positions sinking onto him and straddling his waist his hands held your hips and he bucked up into you.

“Let’s give our two contestants their first hints,” Pdogg grinned, the two hosts taking envelopes.

“V has an impregnation kink” Adora read the card aloud

“Oh yeah, daddy? you want to fill me up, you placed his hands on your lower abdomen and pressed back on him so he could feel himself through your stomach. “You want me all nice and full, huh?”

He groaned loudly and you clenched around him biting your lip. “Baby has a sound kink her preference is deep voices but she enjoys moans growls and pants. She has sensitive ears.”

V sat up putting his mouth to your ear and began, talking to you making obscene sounds in your ears and he flipped you over after hearing the belly and grabbed your hips thrusting hard.

His speed was dangerous for both of you, “Come on” he growled and you felt everything crash over you, your body practically convulsing from the power that had built up.

He came after you and it was warm. The footage from inside of you was very explicit watching him finish inside of you. You laughed, slapping his arm, you fought dirty.

“I gave up on trying to hold back if I didn’t give one hundred percent neither of us would finish. I had to get dangerously close in order to push her over the edge” He pumped his hands in the air.

“But I did it!” He cheered. “I won!”

“And there you have it V is the winner of the sexiest game of the year Temptation.” Adora cheered.

“Think you have what it takes to go online to our page to see behind the scenes footage as well as applications for next years big game”

“V, tell us what you are planning to do with one million dollars”

“First of all I am going to split it with Baby, and maybe take her on a date”

If you enjoyed this story don’t forget to Like | Share so others can enjoy it too. PLease see my [Masterlist] for more of my work.

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haro-whumps · 4 years ago

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Group Whumpees 13: Spirit

CW: Slavery, depression, less than great self-image, ghosts and the discussion thereof, multiple whumpees, aftermath of abuse, blink and you miss it references to noncon, catholicism (brief)

Tag List: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 @adventuresofacreesty @arlennil @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @lumpofwhump @thatsthewhump @pinkdiamondprince @shameless-whumper @whump-only @infested-with-bloodv2 @kiretto-laorentze @eatyourdamnpears @whumpzone @bluebadgerwhump

How many references can I fit into one whump story on the internet? And yes, Galo’s ass is canonically phat.

Masterlist

They had never discussed it, really, never quite put it into words, but when they went to bed there were common configurations they all slept in. Evan almost always insisted on sleeping with his back to the wall, Sasha needed the edge of the bed so she didn’t wake them when she got up in the morning, and Greyson was almost never in the middle so he slept just in front of Sasha. Lilah and Nyla would take turns in the middle, occasionally switching with Evan or Sasha if they were hurting.

Evan was hurting, now, his leg making the journey all the way to the wall a lost effort, so he was in the center. Lilah curled up in his arms, so Nyla’s back was to the wall. In theory, then, Greyson should be at Evan’s back, and Sasha at his back, and yes, that had been how they’d slept the night before.

But that night, Greyson had insisted that Sasha lay between himself and Evan, knowing he’d been weirdly adamant about it and that his family was concerned. But he knew, very well, that he would not be able to sleep that night, and would need to move out of bed without waking them.

And, indeed, the sliver of moonlight that managed to find its way in through the tiny rectangular window at the very top of the room landed on Greyson, wide awake, propped up on one elbow. His tired eyes (and god, he was so tired, but not in a way that craved sleep) surveyed his family, their soft bodies, their loose hair, the gentle curves of their hands.

He sat, apart from them.

Honestly, he’d been apart from them for a long while.

He could ask for no firmer proof of that than the events of that very day. Lilah, little Lilah, who had clung to his arm, to Nyla’s skirts, to Evan’s vests, who had hid behind their bodies from Mistress Bethany’s wrath, now bravest of them all. But should he be surprised? She and Evan were always thick as thieves, didn’t it make sense that she would collect some of his bolder habits? She had always been playful, among them, was that something that she’d extended towards free people? Was this new? In small part, Greyson felt like he should know.

In large part, Greyson didn’t feel a damn thing.

He knew he had, once. He remembered feelings, could even summon the ghosts of them, as he looked over his family. Fondness. An aching longing that stretched over his skin. He’d felt something at his Mistress’s grave, though he couldn’t summon even the phantom of such emotions now.

Lilah was brave, standing proud before the man who, by all rights, should terrify her. Evan was calming down, lashing out less, barely lashing out at all, really. Happier. Easier. The defensive hunch so characteristic of his shoulders was slowly lowering, so slowly Greyson hadn’t even noticed until he looked and found Evan had practically no hunch at all. Nyla, she was happier, unwinding sliver by tiny sliver, but she was. She’d allowed herself to be gently corralled into bed, even if it had been backed by an order from their master. She was willing, just barely, to let down her guard, even if it meant an increased chance of imperfection. She did not, by Greyson’s observation, seem so petrified of imperfection, anymore. And Sasha, Greyson ran a thumb very gently over the skin of her upper arm, Sasha was going outside, she was smiling, her eyes had lost the permanently watery quality to them. She was more openly affectionate, freer with touch.

What was Greyson?

Greyson was the same as Greyson had always been. Quiet. Thoughtless. Hollow. The shell of a man who’d broken and been left to gather dust where he shattered.

His family was growing, healing, but an inanimate thing cannot heal. He was beyond repair. An old plaything that had been used dry, and when opened found empty inside.

If someone were to take a knife against him, carve open his skin and split the seam, would they find anything? They’d find blood, oh yes, he knew that he could still bleed. But beneath his skin and blood, would they find bones? Beneath where his ribs should sit, would anyone find a heart? Did he still have lungs, were there entrails to be lifted? Or would they find empty air and still, placid blackness? A broken papier mache balloon, a wrinkling, decaying pumpkin with its insides carved out.

He took his hand from Sasha’s skin. It didn’t feel right to touch her as he thought such things.

Three decades. Perhaps only two and a half. The years...they were blurry. And Greyson wasn’t naturally inclined to keep track of the time. He’d spent more of his life with his Mistress than he had without her. Was he even good, for anything else? He knew other men his age didn’t look like him, like they were faded and falling apart. She’d had every right to get bored of him, uncomely as he was.

His thoughts were all over the place, slipping and sliding this way and that. He should go to sleep. It was late. He was tired. God he was so tired. He laid down. His eyes stayed wide. He forced them shut. Attempting to relax made his eyes open again. This was pointless.

He leaned back up on his elbow again, looked at his family. The fondness there was growing colder. Not in general, just for right then. Would he go cold in the larger sense, though? Was a thing like him even truly capable of actual, meaningful love?

He got out of bed.

The bed fit four better, anyway. At the very least it was what they were all used to, though they’d all adapted to the company of their fifth quickly, since Master Galo.

Greyson wished he understood him. He doubted he ever would.

But that wish, that doubt, they were glancing, shallow things. Sort of like how everything in Greyson’s life felt incredibly shallow, like an optical illusion. His whole person, his whole life, he was just an illusion. Presenting the facade of depth but if you reached out to touch him, you would find your perception all wrong.

The basement was too dark to see in, but that was fine. He knew where the stairs were, where the rail was, he’d walked them multiple times a day, every day, for three decades. Or perhaps just two and a half.

The main floor was lighter, distant street lights and the moon curving their way in through the dark, casting long shadows where the blackness did not already swallow them whole. It was still dark, but Greyson did not want to turn any lights on here, either. He could navigate the darkness fine. Was it because his own soul was like this house? Kindred spirits, filled with lonely shadows in the black.

But, that was strange. Light cast against the familiar portrait at the end of the hall, like someone had left a light on in a nearby room. Greyson approached, the lack of glasses making the details fuzzy but he certainly knew what he was looking at. He peered around the corner and came to a halt.

The door to the den was open, which was hardly noteworthy in itself, but lamplight spilled out of it, yellow and warm. The sight settled a coldness in Greyson’s chest, whatever he had left in there frosting over. There had only ever been a single lamp in that room, and Mistress had knocked it over when she collapsed, that day before she died. Greyson had picked up the larger pieces and vacuumed the smaller, had emptied the vacuum’s basin into the same bag as the larger pieces and lampshade and set the bag outside for the garbagemen to collect.

But there was lamplight coming from the den.

Greyson felt numb. Numb, and cold, a churning pit of fear pounding at the glass his feet walked across, shadowy hands ready to swallow him whole as soon as the numbness broke. With each step towards that light, his body grew colder, colder, so by the time he reached the doorframe his whole body shivered violently.

The old, well-worn armchair was positioned so that it looked over the rest of the room, and would only require someone sitting in it to turn their head to look at the doorway. So he did not see her face, right away, just her dark, curly, slightly-frizzy hair that stressed her so, the fabric of her light blue nightgown over her arm and shoulder.

Slowly, she turned her neck and looked straight at him.

The numbness broke the moment their eyes met, Greyson’s hand snapping up to his mouth and his body convulsing, curling in on itself, with a hand to his stomach. This can’t be happening some part of him thought desperately.

“M-Mistress--”

“I’m barely in the ground and already your behavior’s gone to shit,” she snapped, in her voice, her voice. “Is that how I taught you to greet me? Do you think this is appropriate?”

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, rushing forward, in front, to bend and kiss her hand but she stopped him two feet away.

“Kneel.”

He crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, elbows wedged between his spread knees and hands clasped out in front of him, head bowed and eyes staring wide and vacant at his shadow on the carpet.

“Up and about dressed like that. Disgusting.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hot tears against his forearms. He hadn’t cried from fear in...years. He’d forgotten he could.

“I heard you, you know,” she said, voice pitching low.

His eyes squeezed shut and he choked on a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“Think you can just go to my grave and say whatever you want?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Did you think ‘oh there won’t be any consequences, I’ll just do whatever I want’ like a little entitled rat?”

“Please, I’m sorry, Mistress, I’m sorry!”

“You like my nephew better than me, don’t you?”

“No, Mistress, I--”

“Liar. You only say that because you got caught in the act.”

“Please,” he blubbered, rabbit-pulsed and shaking apart on the carpet.

“You’re a disgrace, Greyson.”

“I’m sorry,” he wept, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry Mistress I’m sorry.”

Galo moved to a room at the front of the house, peering through the window, but yup, the driveway was still empty. Not that he had genuinely expected that to change overnight, but still, better to check. He yawned, stretched his hands up above his head, and went back to his room to grab his cell phone.

“Hi! My name is Galo Fotia, I scheduled to have a dumpster dropped off at my address two days ago, but it did not arrive that day or yesterday. I was--no, go ahead? ...Yeah, no, I absolutely understand that, sometimes things just get lost in the process. Yeah, yes please, I appreciate it.” Galo descended the stairs as he spoke, bare feet against the soft carpet. “No, it’s no problem, just, as soon as you’re able. I--” Galo stood straighter, something… off. “Mhm, yep, thanks a lot. Have a nice day now, bye!” he said, cutting the conversation a little shorter than he would’ve liked.

But he felt alarmed. And in this house of horrors, any bad vibes he got were very much worth listening to. He pocketed his phone and rolled his shoulders, ready to widen his stance and square himself to look as massive and menacing as possible if he found a threat. He made a beeline for the den, whatever signals his brain was giving him were leading him there, and blanched to find Greyson, of all people, there. Face down on his knees with clasped hands extended out. Wearing pajamas.

“Uh, Greyson?” Galo asked, anxiety spiking up at the full body flinch--really, more of a jolt--that came with Galo’s words. “You alright there dude?” He tried to keep the alarm out of his voice but was pretty sure he did not succeed at all. He moved to Greyson’s side, noticing how the man was kneeling pointed at the old armchair, and carefully went down on one knee, not wanting to spook him more.

Greyson was awake. Mouth-breathing, twitching, but he didn’t move for a long moment, not until Galo lightly placed his hand on Greyson’s back and gave a light, slow stroke downward. He heard Greyson swallow, and watched him slowly separate his fingers and press his palms to the floor. Galo moved a hand to Greyson’s front, helping him lift up to somewhat-sitting, and winced sympathetically at the dark shadows under his eyes and the dried tear-tracks there.

“Hey,” Galo said gently, leaving his hand on Greyson’s chest and continuing to pet up and down his back, “Ground control to Major Tom. What’s goin’ on here, dude?”

Greyson looked at him, then up at the armchair. His body trembled all over, then went still again under Galo’s palms. His lips cracked open but no sound came out, and Galo rubbed a circle into the back of his neck. “Take your time.”

“She was here,” Greyson stated, and fear crawled up Galo’s spine. Haha, that was fucking ominous.

“What do you mean by that, Greyson?” Galo asked, kind of proud at how his mental screaming only barely filtered into his tone.

“She. Mistress, she, she was here. Last night. The light was on and she was sitting here.”

“Okay,” Galo said, mentally adding the armchair to the list of things he would be throwing into the dumpster when it arrived. Actually, he might put it in the middle of the driveway and set it on fire. “Okay, that’s alarming.”

“She spoke to me,” Greyson whispered, lifting a knobby hand to his face and covering his mouth. “She--she was here. She was right here.”

“Right, right okay, Greyson, can you stand for me?” Galo asked, moving the hand on his back to under his elbow. Greyson nodded and Galo stood slowly, hands bracing Greyson and glad of it. His legs were shaky at best, and Greyson caught himself on Galo’s strong arms, body trembling and staggering.

“How long were you kneeling there?” Galo asked gently, waiting as Greyson winced through the pain of circulation returning to his lower body.

“I… at least half of the night--I didn’t sleep, Master.”

I can tell Galo thought with another glance at the bags under Greyson’s eyes. But oh, the thought of this poor man kneeling there for half the night, more, dawn sliding over his body as he continued to kneel in one of the worst rooms in the building…

“Okay,” Galo said, mostly to himself, “Okay, deep breaths. Greyson, do you maybe wanna go get dressed? I’ll get this all sorted out, don’t worry, but I think you might feel better if you do.”

Greyson nodded, because when did Greyson ever disagree with him, and Galo helped him down the steps. He kept an arm extended for Greyson to brace himself on all the way to the slaves’ room, and he knocked twice on the door. Nyla opened it with confused alarm, which turned into just-alarm when she caught sight of Greyson.

“Hey, weird developments in the night,” Galo said, looking at the spot just above Nyla’s head because her nightgown was very flimsy and pretty and he Was Not Looking, “Greyson’s kind of going through it. Could you all come up to the kitchen once you’re dressed?”

“Yes, Master,” Nyla said, glancing at him as she reached for Greyson, and Galo brought his arm forward to help Greyson along.

“Cool, excellent, let me know if Evan needs help with the stairs,” Galo said and rushed off. There were two wolves inside him: one that was absolutely flipping its shit about potential ghosts and one that was blushing about seeing Nyla in her nightgown and what was his life that these were the things warring for his attention? What was his life? Why was this his life?

Sasha was in the kitchen but nearly jumped out of her skin when he came in through a different door than he usually did.

“Hey, morning, weird things going on,” Galo said, bypassing his usual greeting. “Can you freeze bread dough? Or like, refrigerate it? Because uh, yeah, just, I don’t want your work to go to waste but I think today is a good day for us all to be outside.”

Galo reached up on top of the fridge and pulled down a nicely sized cooler. “And, in the spirit of being outside, like, all of today probably, would you please pack breakfast and a buncha fluids into here for me?”

Sasha took it with a nod, visibly befuddled. “Great, thanks, sorry to alarm you but some weird--I already used that adjective--just, stuff’s happening, okay? Stuff is happening that I think we would all prefer not to be happening aaaaand I’m gonna take care of it but I’m gonna take care of it outside.”

Sasha nodded again, wrapping the bread dough in saran wrap and setting it in the fridge.

Galo pulled out his phone and started googling. It turned out people could get dressed pretty quick here, though, because he’d barely saved two phone numbers to his notes app before the other four were entering the kitchen, dressed with pinched expressions. Evan was on his crutches with Lilah at his side, and Nyla had one of Greyson’s arms braced in both her hands. He was covering his mouth again.

“Great, cool, so, Greyson saw a ghost last night and I think we should all just have a nice day off outside.” Sasha’s head snapped towards Galo with wide eyes, dropping the bag of grapes into the cooler which, hey, of all the places they could be dropped. “Yeah, yup, I’m gonna talk to some people who are, uh, more professionally inclined to the supernatural than I am, but in the meantime I would like not to be in this building. Or for any of you to be in this building. So, garden party.” Lilah stiffened, “Oooooor whatever we wanna call it. Just.” Galo gestured towards the door and lifted the cooler for Sasha. “Outside.”

Lilah helped him find and set up a large umbrella to keep the sun off them, Galo carrying the heavy weighted base for her. While they were in the garage, away from the others who sat together around Greyson, Galo asked, “Has Greyson ever seen ghosts before?”

“No, Master,” Lilah answered, sticking a can of bug spray in her jean pocket.

“Good thinking,” he praised briefly, “Okay, I’m gonna drink my breakfast and make some phone calls. Do you think it’d be more reassuring for me to stick close to y’all, or should I move over and give you some privacy?”

“Privacy, sir, just for a bit. We all want to ask Greyson for details. And comfort him, if we can.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Galo said, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not holding the metal base. “I appreciate the guidance.”

Lilah looked up at him and gave a brief smile. “Well, hypothetically we’re in cahoots, right? I’m only behaving sensibly, sir.”

“Yeah. Even so, I’m still grateful for it.”

Once the umbrella was up and Galo had snagged the thermos Sasha had prepared for him, Galo told the group that he was gonna be a couple benches over so he could make some phone calls, but please come get him if they needed him for literally anything.

He was an hour into calling people when he finally got ahold of someone willing to help. “Hello, may I speak to Father O'Reilly?” Galo asked, and when the man was on the line he took a deep breath, ready to repeat himself for the umpteenth time.

“Hello Father, my name is Galo Fotia and let me preface by saying this is not a prank call. I am legitimately asking, do you do exorcisms?”

“I… would like more details,” the priest answered, and honestly? That was the best response Galo had gotten so far.

“Someone I live with saw a ghost last night, and while I do not consider myself a man of any particular faith: I don’t mess with the supernatural. Someone who lived here recently died and it seems like a very real possibility that she’s haunting us, since she was a bitter, malicious, cruel person. It could also be a demon. It could also be a nightmare or hallucination but personally I would prefer to cover absolutely all my bases, so, do you do exorcisms? Or, I dunno, at least come take a look?”

“I believe that would be doable.”

Galo heard himself sigh, shoulders slumping. “Thank you, Father. Today?”

Galo gave him his address and number, asking him to call him when he arrived because, again, Galo didn’t fuck with ghosts. He was not going back into that house until someone with a degree in Weird Bullshit was there with him.

He was not a man of faith, but he went to religious men first. He was aware of the irony. “Yeah, well, in the immortal words of Regina Spector, no one’s laughing at god when they’re desperate,” he muttered to himself. Or however that song goes. Whatever adjective she uses, he thought. It was a whole song. Not important. Focus.

Google reviews spoke very highly of a website that was designed to all but physically scream “I’m a scam.” But every person who left a comment professed that the psychic agency in question had solved their problems, and it had a five-star user rating. So Galo cautiously navigated the page, bright colors and comic sans putting him on edge to exit out at the first sign of a popup or potential malware.

His phone call with the agent was nearly identical to his call with the priest, explaining the ghost situation. He was asked more questions: when did this start happening (last night) what was the person’s relation to the deceased (he was her slave) how recent her death was, did Galo know of any unfinished business she might have, and a brief discussion of prices. Galo might’ve been daunted by the gaudy webpage, but the agent was nothing but professional on the line.

Satisfied he’d exhausted both a religious and non-religious form of supernatural-fuckery, he returned to the group. They were sitting clustered together on a long stone bench, Nyla and Evan on either side of Greyson, Sasha holding onto Nyla’s arm and Lilah sitting on Evan’s leg, the uninjured one. Nyla held Greyson’s hand and Lilah’s palm rested on his shoulder, and his hand still covered his mouth. Poor guy.

“No, please, stay sitting,” Galo rushed when Sasha heard his approach and triggered everyone else realizing he was there. “I’m just comin’ back, no need for formalities.” He looked directly at Greyson, face involuntarily screwing up in pity. “How’re you doing, Greyson?” he asked with a low, quiet voice.

The older man shook slightly, his fingers curling against his lips before lowering his hand. “Better than you found me, Master.”

“Good,” Galo said, sinking down to sit with crossed legs. “No, no! Stay,” Galo said, raising both hands to stop the group. They all, Lilah included, looked panicked to be sitting up higher than their Master. “I’m sitting on the ground because I want to, I happen to like it down here. Please, just stay where you are.”

“...Yes Master,” Nyla answered after a tense moment, deliberately settling herself back on the stone and smoothing out her skirts. She looked different without her usual apron on. Galo couldn’t wait to see her in one of the dresses she’d ordered.

Now was not the time brain, get it together.

The others took their cue from her and sat back, Lilah shifting off of Evan to sit next to him on the stone.

“Thank you,” Galo said supportively, smiling up at them. “Nyla, where’s the carbon monoxide detector located in the house--or, a building this size would probably need more than one actually…”

“I, sorry sir?” Nyla said, smiling but eyebrows twisted up in confusion.

“The carbon monoxide monitor?”

“I… am not certain, sir, what you mean?”

“Oh. Okay, uh, hm.” Galo nodded slowly. “Yeah, so, that’s something I’m gonna go ahead and order. You don’t need to mind me, I’m just gonna sit here and do that real quick.”

Galo pulled out his phone again and googled how many he should even get. Google suggested one for each floor, and possibly extra ones in or directly outside sleeping areas.

“I would actually kind of prefer it if you all didn’t stare directly at me while I do this,” Galo mentioned as mildly as he could, but they all snapped their gazes away in an instant anyway. He… ugh, whatever, don’t overthink it. He ordered six, just to be safe, and pocketed his phone again.

“Alright, so, I’ve got a priest coming over hopefully within the hour, and an appointment with a psychic this afternoon. I’ll just order lunch and we can eat out here, because, uh, ghosts.” Galo gestured vaguely. “I’m not taking chances with that shit.”

“Yes, Master,” Nyla said, “Is there anything you would like us to do in the meantime?”

“Mmmnng” Galo hummed, scratching at his undercut. What to do with a group of people who’d never relaxed a day in their lives?

“Oh, uh, actually, since I have you all here!” Galo said, remembering. “I wanted to make a statement that you’ve all been very good for me so far, and I appreciate all the effort you’ve put in, but I want to do away with some of my aunt’s old rules.” Galo noticed confusion on most of their faces, but Sasha’s was the only one holding any real sense of distress so he marked that down as a win.

God he needed to find a way to make Sasha, specifically, feel more comfortable around him.

“So,” Galo lifted three fingers, eyes rolling back to the side as he tried to remember if that was right. “First, I don’t care about stuttering. I understand my aunt apparently had a thing about it, but I don’t, so if you stutter I won’t mind.” Evan’s eyes flicked, briefly, barely noticeable, to Sasha, before he resumed being as stony-faced and attentive as the rest of them. Lilah, Nyla, and Greyson didn’t react, but Galo suspected that might be because they were deliberately refraining.

“Second, it’s okay if you don’t move super gracefully around me. It’s okay if you do, too, but like, you don’t have to put an effort into it if you don’t feel like it.” Nyla, impossibly, sat up straighter at that, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“And, uh, fuck,” what was the third one? Oh yeah, “Smiling! I don’t need you to make pretend-expressions at me. If you wanna frown or anything you’re allowed.”

They collectively looked baffled. Galo, who was pretty sure he was just allergic to awkward situations, pulled out his phone again with a cheery grin.

“I have Netflix! There are a couple different movies I’ve thought looked cute that I haven’t gotten around to yet. I mean, my phone screen is kinda small but I bet we could make it work if we all just sorta get in close.”

Evan reacted positively to that, though his expression shuttered the moment Galo’s eyes flicked to him. “That sounds wonderful, Master,” Nyla said politely, but she also kinda sounded like she meant it, her smile taking that softer quality that Galo associated with genuine pleasure. Galo smiled up at her. “Cool.” He’d need to grab his portable charger while the priest was in the house, but he should have enough battery to last until then. He pulled up Song of the Sea, which had selkies, not ghosts, and sat with his back to the group, right in front of Greyson, lifting his phone with one hand. He was strong, so he could keep his hand lifted up like that for a while, and he’d just switch hands when he did get too tired.

They were about 3/4ths of the way through the movie when it auto-paused for a phone call. “Aw, shit, to be continued,” Galo said as he rose, answering the phone with a hello. He jogged around to the front of the house, not passing through it, and waved hi when he caught sight of the priest.

“Hello Father,” Galo greeted politely, extending a hand.

“Hello, my son,” Father O'Reilly greeted in turn, eyes darting to Galo’s tanktop and then doing a double take. Galo glanced down, and oh, yeah. He was wearing his “Mothman wants what I have” shirt. The one with the art of Mothman’s GIANT ass. Probably not the most professional. C'est la vie.

“So about the ghost,” Galo said, attempting to get back on track. “Wait. My shirt probably makes it seem like I’m not taking this seriously. I am taking this seriously. I just, didn’t realize what I was wearing, I--”

“It’s alright,” he cut in, much to Galo’s relief.

“I’m a little jumpy today,” he said with hands held half in front of him, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Please, show me where the spirit was seen.”

Galo led him to the den, very much hoping that Greyson had just had, like, a super bad nightmare while sleepwalking. That would be the best option.

“He said the light was on, but when I found him this morning the lights were all off,” Galo said, settling a hand on top of a bare side table near the armchair and leaning on it. “This is where he saw her,” he said with a gesture towards the chair.

“Mm,” Father O’Reilly hummed, examining the armchair. He examined the rest of the room lightly, not opening anything or prying. Which. Good. Because the dumpster still wasn’t here and Galo really didn’t wanna explain the cabinet full of weapons and chains to a Catholic priest. The man just said a few chants, what Galo assumed were Hail Mary’s. He finished with the lord’s prayer which Galo did know, due to his own churchly upbringing, and Galo muttered along under his breath. Well over a decade later and Galo still knew it word for word (but then, he could also probably sing Veggie Tales verbatim so who knows if that was indicative of anything).

“The Lord has blessed this home and those within it,” the priest assured as he headed out, “Rest easy now, my son.”

Galo did not believe that at all but he thanked the priest gratefully regardless. He grabbed his portable charger and his laptop, then headed back out to the slaves.

“Good news, the priest has come and blessed the house. I’ll meet with the psychic this afternoon and then we should be able to head back inside.”

Galo ordered pizza, plugged his phone into the portable charger, and then pulled up the rest of Song of the Sea on his laptop. Nyla, interestingly enough, settled herself on the ground next to Galo when he sat down again, and he was gonna protest but…

Well, if it was just her.

This was an interesting exercise in proximity, too. Galo tended to see them fleetingly, just here or there unless something was going on, and rarely all of them together at once. They were stiff around him, but he was kinda stiff around them too, for all he tried to project only friendly, relaxed ease. They were… still figuring out how to exist around one another.

The dumpster arrived mid-afternoon (yay! A project Galo could work on some other time) and they’d started another movie by the time the psychic arrived, and Galo took his laptop inside with him to plug it in while things happened. He was a little more okay cutting through the house with the priest having been there, which meant his first look at the psychic was when he opened the door.

Before him stood a relatively short, middle-aged Japanese man with a polite smile who was absolutely SHREDDED. Just completely fucking JACKED. Galo’s face immediately lit up in unadulterated delight.

“Hi!” he greeted, extending a hand.

“Hello,” the exorcist greeted with a mild accent. “Are you Galo Fotia?”

“Yes, that’s me! Mr. Kageyama? Or, uh, Kageyama-san?”

“Oh, either’s fine,” the man said with a wave of his hand, smiling pleasantly. “I apologize for coming alone, my coworker had something come up so it is just me today.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. You can uh, you can get rid of ghosts without your partner though, yeah?”

“I am the primary agent who handles spirits, yes,” he reassured.

“Thank you, great, so, uh, this way?” Galo led him to the den and pointed at the armchair, but Mr. Kageyama shook his head.

“There is an evil spirit in this house, but it is not here,” he stated plainly, and Galo’s face froze in a wide eyed smile.

“Ah. Yeah?”

“Mm,” Mr. Kageyama said with a nod of his head. Fortunately, he looked utterly unperturbed, because if the professional looked bothered Galo was going to Lose His Whole Shit. “May I lead the way?”

“Uh, yeah, yes, please,” Galo said with a weak gesture, edging closer to the older man. No way in HELL was he going to be alone in this house for even a moment.

It occurred to him, distantly, that between the shady website and Galo’s own nerves, this man might possibly just be winding Galo up to scam him. But Galo had the money! Scamming was a non-issue. And if there was an issue, Galo was all too happy to pay this nice, buff man to make it go away. Please dear god.

Mr. Kageyama walked out of the den, over into the dining room, but paused, staring up at the ceiling. “No, upstairs,” he mumbled, turning back around and leading Galo up the steps, down the hall, directly to Auntie Bethany’s bedroom. Galo’s steps slowed as he realized where Mr. Kageyama was heading, and he felt his breathing going tight as he came to a halt completely, a couple feet away.

“Well,” Galo said with a strained chuckle, making Mr. Kageyama pause and turn. “I know you’re the real deal,” Galo told the man standing in front of Auntie Bethany’s “tool closet.”

Mr. Kageyama nodded and turned back to the closet, settling his hand on the door handle. “This is not a ghost,” he stated plainly, “but it is an evil spirit. They can sometimes form in places of concentrated hatred, pain, and anger. It does not have any memories since it was never alive, but it does have a ‘mind’ that might interact with the living.”

Mr. Kageyama stared at the door a moment, then removed his hand from the handle. “It is strong. It would’ve taken years to gain this sort of strength.”

“Yeah,” Galo breathed. “My uh, my aunt--look, the stuff that’s in there, please know that I would never…”

Mr. Kageyama glanced at him, nodded once, and placed his hand against the plywood. “I don’t need to open it. I can do my work from here, and I feel I probably do not want to know.”

Galo blinked as the light in the room warped, physically waving around Mr. Kageyama in a purplish blue, then just as suddenly went back to the cheerful, neutral light of the daylight coming in through the windows.

“...ah.” Galo said. Ghosts were real. Evil spirits were real. Psychics? Also real apparently! This was a lot to take in during one day.

“So, that thing, the evil spirit,” Galo said, fiddling with the neckline of his top, then rubbing his undercut, “that’s what looked like my aunt last night?”

“Probably not. Although it was powerful, usually only ghosts can look like human beings. It could have induced a nightmare in a susceptible mind, though.” Mr. Kageyama approached Galo and asked, “May I speak with the man who saw the ‘ghost?’”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Galo took the lead this time, and debated on if it would be impolite to ask about leisure activities during a work assignment. Eh, fuck it, Galo was friendly. “So, what gym do you go to?” Galo asked. Mr. Kageyama brightened, and the two talked companionably the entire way out to the garden. Mr. Kageyama seemed to favor afternoons for his exercise, while Galo was definitely a morning man, and they compared notes on their weekly rotations. Apparently Mr. Kageyama had a group of people back in Japan who he videochatted with he’d befriended back in middle school, where they all kept tabs on each other and stuck to a group routine, even though many of them didn’t live in the same city or even country as the others, anymore.

Galo longed for friends like that.

“Hey, guys,” Galo greeted as they rounded a hedge. Nyla was on her feet in a flash, and Galo hastened to assure the others they could stay sitting, yes, even with Mr. Kageyama here. “He just wants to ask Greyson a couple of questions, okay?” Galo said, and Greyson’s adam apple bobbed visibly. He stood and walked to Galo and Mr. Kageyama, and Galo pressed a hopefully reassuring hand to his back as he passed. “We’ll just be over here,” Galo said to both Greyson and Mr. Kageyama.

“Yes sir,” Greyson said as Mr. Kageyama nodded, and Galo went to Nyla as they left.

“Everyone over here holding up okay?” Galo asked, reaching up and letting her kiss his hand before he caressed the side of her head, stroking a thumb over her hair.

“Yes, Master,” she answered, and if his eyes did not deceive him she actually smiled a little as she leaned into his touch, eyes slipping slowly closed like a cat before she blinked them back open and stood straight.

“Easy,” he breathed, not wanting to scare her off but feeling like that was so precious. “So, I can repeat myself when Greyson gets back if Mr. Kageyama didn’t catch him up to speed, but Mr. Kageyama found an evil spirit in my aunt’s old bedroom. Not a ghost, apparently, but like, a conglomeration of evil energies? I’m pretty sure. He got rid of it though.”

Galo explained how Mr. Kageyama had walked straight there, and Evan confirmed that the dining room was in fact directly underneath Auntie Bethany’s bedroom, and everyone knew that the ‘tool closet’ was as good a place as any for terrible things to fester.

“So… magic is real, sir?” Lilah said, sounding dumbfounded and struggling with the information as much as Galo felt.

“Honestly, I’m just gonna ignore that and ideally never bring it up again,” Galo stated. Sasha nodded, Nyla and Evan staring into the middle distance, Nyla with a fist lifted to her lips.

“...Yes Master.”

When Greyson and Mr. Kageyama returned, Gresyon’s hand was tight-knuckled on the lapel of his jacket, eyes down, but his posture immaculate. “Mr. Fotia?” the psychic asked.

Galo rejoined Mr. Kageyama and walked out of earshot, Galo drumming his fingers on his thighs. “So,” he prompted, scanning Mr. Kageyama’s face.

“I do not believe the evil spirit was what caused last night’s vision,” Mr. Kageyama stated mildly. “It is not impossible, or even uncommon, for extreme stress to manifest as audiovisual hallucinations. I would strongly urge you to seek the counsel of a psychiatrist.”

“Yeah,” Galo said with a heavy sigh, “yeah, trust me, I know. They’ve all got appointments with therapists this upcoming week.”

Mr. Kageyama hummed and nodded approvingly. It made Galo feel… nice. It was pleasant, knowing that at least someone approved of his decisions.

“There are no more evil spirits in the house or nearby; did you have anything else I could help with?”

“...If I may get oddly personal, how do you get your glutes to look like that?”

“Oh, I was simply born with very little fat on my hindquarters.”

“God, I’m so jealous,” Galo said, laughing. “I feel like one of those old ladies that jokes about everything she eats going straight to her ass and thighs.”

Mr. Kageyama laughed politely, bringing up the exercises he favored that really worked out those muscles, and Galo compared his own routine. They both seemed to welcome the positive change in topic, and kept it up all the way back to Mr. Kageyama’s car, where Galo thanked him again, paid him for his time and service, and waved goodbye.

He sighed, and looked to the house, rubbing at his undercut. It was safe to go back inside. No ghosts. Just demons of a metaphorical kind.

Master Galo had been generous. More than generous.

Greyson was aware that he was, in a large way, very ignorant, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how it looked, to find him kneeling in front of an empty chair, talking about lights when the lamp was gone. He knew that the questions the psychic had were only asked to gauge his mental state, whether he was a raving lunatic or not, no matter how politely the man had framed the words. He knew that it was foolish, for a man in his 40’s to be frightened by ghosts.

But Master Galo had taken his concerns seriously. His large hands had been gentle on Greyson’s aching, tired body, bearing his weight when his own hollow legs couldn’t. He’d touched him softly, brought them all outside and forbade them from work, removed long-standing rules when by all rights he should be punishing Greyson for the inconvenience, hired not one but two different professionals to handle Greyson’s childish fears.

He knew he did not deserve this.

But Master Galo demonstrably cared very little for what Greyson deserved. He gave very openly, very freely, very frequently.

He had ordered them to please try and take the evening off, and allowed Nyla to beg to water the plants, and hadn’t been even remotely irritated by the contradiction. Lilah disappeared while Sasha and Greyson helped Evan back down to the basement, and Greyson was almost inclined to worry on her whereabouts, but only almost.

Master was inexplicably kind, and Lilah had tried strange boldness with him before. If Master Galo caught her out and about with no reason for her wandering, the worst he would do would be direct her back down to the basement. Greyson was surprised by his own certainty, that she was fine.

But Master Galo had always been kind, even from his youth, and Greyson had known him, in whatever small way, the longest out of everyone here. Should he truly be so surprised by his Master’s kindness?

Shortly after Nyla and Lilah had both returned to their room, Greyson gave voice to the rattling thought that had taken up new residence inside his empty skull.

“Greyson,” Sasha tried to dissuade, because apparently the only times Greyson felt want were when his wants were absurd.

“No, he can go,” Nyla said, her brow furrowed a little, Lilah and Evan glancing between the three of them.

Greyson nodded to Nyla, his shoulders curving in a shallow bow, and left their room. He heard Sasha’s frustrated noise, and then, surprisingly, the door.

“Sasha?” he asked, surprised, and she firmly wrapped her arms around his, her strong fingers digging into the nonexistent flesh of his arm.

“So you d-don’t see any more ghosts a-alone in the house,” Sasha said firmly, her mouth pulled in a determined line.

Greyson opened his mouth to protest--he didn’t need walked up the stairs and down a hall--but found he simply did not have the energy to argue, and he didn’t really want to in the first place. He was surprised he had even the single want he currently possessed, and even his surprise was a shallow, hollow thing. Like a car wreck glanced at on the morning news.

“Thank you, Sasha,” he said, lifting his free hand to pat at hers, and he left it there. Palm to knuckles, skin to skin.

He was so tired.

But regardless, he wanted to do this, despite his fatigue, so he climbed the stairs again and sought out his Master. He was sitting with a damp cloth over his eyes, arms spread over the back of the couch, legs spread carelessly, head tipped back and his ridiculous shirt on display.

Greyson really shouldn’t have an opinion about his Master’s wardrobe, and yet, that one thought continued to flit about in the back of his mind, like a tone deaf background character in a serious scene.

Greyson, silent as the air, pressed his lips to Sasha’s cheek in thanks for taking him here, then waited until she was gone to knock on the doorframe.

“Master Galo.”

“Greyson?” Master Galo asked, sounding alarmed, sitting up in an instant and pulling the washcloth from his eyes. “Hey, dude,” he said, beckoning him in, and Greyson went, straight-spined and graceful despite his Master’s earlier retraction of the rule. “Are you okay?”

“I am, Master, thank you,” Greyson, and it was more or less the truth, he figured.

“What are you doing here, instead of with the others?” he asked as Greyson knelt and kissed his hand. It was so big, he noticed, like he’d noticed every time he kissed it. At first it had alarmed him. Now he didn’t feel anything at the observation.

“I wanted to thank you, sir,” Greyson said. My body is present and available for your service and pleasure, please use me as you see fit. The words were familiar and worn, though he was perhaps the only member of his family who had ever meant them, when he said them. He would’ve meant them now, too, if he thought he was allowed to say them.

“You don’t need to,” Master Galo said, sounding tired of Greyson’s fawning, and Greyson at first resisted the urge to grip his own wrist to soothe himself. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, aren’t you tired? Go to bed, Greyson.”

“Please, I wanted--” his words cut out. He… was not the most eloquent speaker. He did grip his wrist, then, and swallowed hard. This was defiance. He’d been given an order. He pressed himself to speak anyway. “To… seek comfort, Master.”

He hadn’t told Nyla and the others about that part. They weren’t… they hadn’t had the same relationship with Mistress, as he had. They never saw the part of her that Greyson missed the worst.

“Yeah?” Galo asked, no more than a whisper. “What--what can I do for you, Greyson?”

Greyson’s shoulders slumped in relief that his defiance had not pushed his Master to anger. “Please, Master, may I rest my head against your leg?”

“Ah, sure?” Master Galo leaned back against the couch, shifting as he did. “Like, just, sit there?”

“Unless you would prefer I do something, Master?”

“No. No, definitely not. Uh,” Master Galo gestured at the thigh closest to Greyson, which was probably about as large as Greyson’s waist if he was honest. “Go ahead?”

When Greyson was a teen, he’d pillowed his arms across Mistress’s knees and rested his head there as well, her fingers petting at his hair and shoulders. As he’d aged, his arms had left the equation, simply kneeling at her side with his head against her skirt.

Now, with his Master, he let his posture relax further, sitting on his rear instead of his ankles, his wrist grasped in his lap, his glasses held loosely in that hand. Master’s thigh was warm against the side of his face, his eyes closed and knees pressed to the front of the couch. Master’s hand gently caressed his skull, passing over his hair just behind his ear.

Greyson sighed, some pale shade of contentment passing through him, his body slowly, very slowly, unwinding. It happened in increments, first his legs, then his shoulders, then his jaw, then his brow, all of him melting under the steady, slow pass of his Master’s hand over his head.

God, he was so tired.

He woke in bed, with the others, in the basement, with no recollection of how he’d gotten there.

#Galo to the tune of ghostbusters: I ain't gon' fuck with no ghost!#Galo does NOT like ghosts Greyson is NOT having a good time #whump #gw #greyson #galo #nyla #sasha #lilah #evan #mine #writing #slave whump #slavery #aftermath of torture #multiple whumpees #depressed character #ghosts

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littleblondesoprano · 4 years ago

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I know no one asked for this but I got excited when I remembered picrew was a Thing™ and decided to make my DnD characters with it!!

Here we goooo!

1) Pixie: My very first DnD character, Cleric Life Tiefling with a sailor background. Her AC is 18, she knows common, infernal, elvish, and celestial. Her spiritual weapon is a giant-ass sword, and her stats are alright. Her best are Wis and Charisma, with an 18 in both. Lowest is her Dex, with an 11. She has a warhammer, it’s so fuckin fun. She can see Hell and prays to Mystra, and her holy item is a pearl necklace given to her by Atlantians when she was abandoned as a baby (because no one wants a Tiefling baby, people are so rude). Both arms are covered with full sleeves of tattoos that are enchanted with protection (and they glow) and she’s also got a golden nose ring. She was also raised in Her Majesty’s service so she’s kinda a privateer. We love her.

(Sadly there were no real tattoo or nose ring options)

2) Dahlia: My second, is a Gold Dragonborn Fighter with a background as a Bounty Hunter. Her alignment is LN, and she has both white eyes and white hair. Also, due to wild-magic, she also has long rams horns that extend from her head, and also glow in the dark. She has tattoos of chains around her wrists that glow orange when she attacks, and a scar running across the middle of her face, mostly healed. Babygirl’s stats aren’t great, but her highest is Strength at 15. Her Wis and Charisma stats are the lowest, weirdly. In both of the campaigns I’ve played her in she’s gone to lead armies (one with the horn of Valhalla) and even take the throne to act as ruling Regent. She knows Common, Under-common, and Draconic, and has an AC of 16. She also has 1 inspiration point because the person I was playing with, and I, made the DM laugh.

(I’m upset about her horns but w/e)

3) Cyrus is next, who is a Half-Elf Champion Fighter with a Noble background and a True Neutral alignment. Now, I haven’t played Cyrus much, but his stats are FUCKIN INSANE. We did batshit rolling for this particular campaign, and holy fuck. His Strength is 18, Dex is 13, Con is 11, Intelligence is 19, Wis is 17, and Charisma is 20. He’s a fucking incredible character with an AC of 16. I haven’t gotten his physical aspects down, but I know he has silver hair, and he didn’t do a whole lot in the campaign, sadly. My male characters never do well, for some reason.

4) Amyra Sand is my fuckin HOMEGIRL and I love her with all my heart. She’s next, she’s from a low-mag, extremely homebrewed Game of Thrones setting–but! She’s a Druid (so, basically, she was Bran, and could warg into animals) from Dorne with a Spy background, and is of Lawful Neutral alignment. She is the embodiment of Horny On Main and despite being a spy, cannot lie to save her damn life. LITERALLY. Amyra’s stats are fucking insane, with the highest being her Strength, at 18, and her lowest being Wis at 13, most of her others sit at 16, with a AC of 19, and her HP at 83. She can speak Common and High Valyrian and has 10+ ft of blindsight. My darling has black hair and green eyes, and she used to have a companion wardog named Honey. Which she, and one other character who got their own dog, stole. Amyra ended up hitting her head and failing a riding check and Honey jumped in and ripped the dude’s throat out who tried to hurt her, not before stabbing Honey. Amyra got SO PISSED, she stabbed the dude and bashed his face in, You Don’t Touch Amyra’s Animals. At ALL. (it was kinda sweet though, Honey got a burial at sea, and my party members felt for me.) ANYWAY, the DM was nice and gave Amyra a fuckin full-grown Lion, whose name was Sunny. Amyra wargged into him and killed a few things, it was great.

4) Daisy is next! She’s another Tiefling Cleric, with a Blood concentration, with a Haunted One background. Her AC is 14, and she can speak Common, Infernal, and Abyssal–love her stats. Her Strength is 12, Dex is 14, Con is 14, Intelligence is 17, Wis is 18, and Charisma is 20. Her haunted object is a small locked box that hums at night, but you forget it in the morning. Daisy prays to the goddess Frigga; her horns take on that of an Addax (but they twist near the top), she has glowing white eyes (you can’t see the pupils), with vermilion skin and silvery-white hair. She has a tattoo on her neck fashioned like a high-laced collar in black ink. In the middle of this, going down to her chest, is a silver full moon which also acts as her holy object. In the lace design are hidden drawn daggers that bleed and glow when she gets angry. (BTW, she created her own name, her original name is in Infernal, which is ‘Sangue’. At that time she was one of the most evil people you could’ve met–but now reformed.) I haven’t actually gotten to play her yet, but I hope to in the future!

5) Poppy is last, but not least! Poppy is of a homebrew setting where each character is a color–and there’s a color hierarchy. Poppy, the dearest darling, is a low color, A Pink. She carries pink eyes, pink hair, pink freckles, and a tinge of pink to her skin, with sigils on the backs of her hands. Pinks are generally the prostitutes of this world (but she’s STILL not as bad as Amyra, whoo boy) She’s incredibly vain, but she’s also a human lie detector–whenever she sees a mirror, she HAS to stop and admire herself, or she takes mental damage. She’s incredibly beautiful, and is aligned with the House Verona. Most of her power is in the intuitive block, hence human lie detector. I like her, I’m playing a campaign with her now, she’s cute, she’s seduced two people already, it’s fun.

#dnd characters #dnd #picrew #I think Pixie and Dahlia are my favs #Amyra is too but DAMN #littleblondesoprano

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sick-raven · 5 years ago

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Ghosts of the past - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine

About: Miranda Bradbury moved to Gotham for a few reasons - to enjoy her career as an assassin, and to face her fears. Who else should help her with hallucinations that follow her than the fear expert Jonathan Crane? However, the doctor-patient relationship is very unstable one as both of them have to fight with their past, their present, and Batman.

Author note: I was trying to figure out some fancy way to describe the story. It's just a porn with a plot about two sick freaks. Enjoy.

Fair warnings: Suicide attempt, rape mentions, nsfw, violence, light bdsm

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

Can also read at AO3.

Chapter 1

It was a dark evening in Gotham. Now, every evening was dark, but in Gotham with its never-ending mist of smog, it was especially dull and uncomfortable. Street lights wouldn’t break the darkness, windows only shined TV light out and painted pictures of entertained families, or dining families, or, as most common in Gotham, arguing families.

Gotham was also loud and Terry Borrows hated that fact. They’ve never got used to constant car noises – revving of engines and horn honking that all coming back twofold in echoes bouncing from walls of thin streets. Annoying, headache causing. Terry would rather listen to their boss shouting all day.

They were hyper focused on the noise. On their check-up doctor said it’s nothing weird and then asked for payment in amount of Terry’s two-month salaries. Thief.

That’s when they heard it. Soft, almost silent ding. As if you try to get attention at the wedding table and you hit the crystal glass with a spoon. Once. Carefully. It sounded almost magical in this grey place.

Ding.

Terry stopped. At the end of the narrow street they saw a shadow. It was a person kneeling next to something on the ground. Terry didn’t see any details, but dread climbed on their back. This is Gotham. Terry should run. It doesn’t matter what were they witnessing, the logical thing is to…

Ding.

The person looked his way. Every little move was followed by that soft jingle.

And then Terry realized they can’t move anymore. The jingle dinged louder. And louder. The sound vibrated through the streets catching them right by the soul. Terry realized they can’t breathe. Their heart was racing like crazy and their head hurt from wave of sound around them.

The person… a woman… walked straight to Terry, bringing the sound with her. In the dark Terry recognized a scarf on her face and… oh god… bloody knife in her hand.

Run! They tried to move their legs. Nothing.

The sound. The fear. The knife.

Finally, Terry’s body gave in and they fainted. They didn’t see the woman touching their neck for pulse. Nor did they hear the sound stop as the woman left without hurting them.

In the street, there lay another body.

***

Miranda Bradbury really liked Gotham. She felt like a character in gothic romance. Darkness, never-ending mist and bad weather, creepy architecture and constant danger. She enjoyed Gotham since she’s moved here two weeks prior. This city was crazy. Mental even! During the time period she tried to adapt to her new environment, she’s already seen the clown terrorizing city, the Riddler enslaving a whole block and some maniac with knives kidnapping people trying to lure in the Bat.

Oh, yeah. Batman. Before she didn’t understand. How can the police just let mask vigilante on loose? She understood after two days. This city…

This city also ruined her business right away. She moved here, opened a toyshop and that was it. The empty place flourished under her care, filled with toys, decorations and joy. The shop was in pretty good part of town, and yet – no customers. Too late she found out this used to be a toyshop of some crazy guy – calling himself the Toymaker – who tried to kill the city with explosive teddy-bears and sentient Barbie dolls.

Yes. This city was mental.

And she loved it. She always tried to blend in, be the grey mouse in her warm turtleneck and messy brown hair. After witnessing crazy punk-rock fashion of this city she realized she stood up more like this. At least she can pass for naïve outsider. That’s always a plus in her line of work.

The fourth day and finally two guys entered her shop. They looked around with deep uninterest in their eyes. Walked through isles touching stuffed toy here and there or picking up a toy car and putting it back two seconds later. Miranda waited patiently at the counter, small smile on her lips.

They finally stopped in front of her. She suspected they are twins as their expression were the same – dull and bored. They were dressed like gangsters from twenties. Gotham was weirdly stuck in time.

“G’morning, lady,” said one of them despite it being deep afternoon. “We’ve come to talk.”

“How much?” Miranda asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much?” she repeated not losing her patience. She adored the confused looks. “This isn’t my first rodeo, gentlemen. How much is the protection fee?”

“Straight lass, huh?”

“Partially,” Miranda joked. “I hate beating around the bush.”

“Don loves people like you. Right to bus’ ya know? It’s ten percent if you don’t want’cha place to burn.”

Miranda overlooked the empty store. Ten percent of nothing is… probably not suitable for Don Falcone, one of the mafia leaders of the city. Before setting the shop, Miranda made her research on the city’s bad guys. Always ready. Don Falcone won’t care, he will just want his cash. She started to think she underestimated the marketing. Be better PR, Miranda, it’s not that hard.

“Tell me, friends,” she started with a nice voice, “how does Don Falcone feel about illegal businesses?”

***

Miranda moved to Gotham for various reasons. One of them was the fact she was constantly on the move. She’s never spent anywhere more than two years. The last city she was in was Star City and that didn’t go well for her with all the supers around.

The second reason was that she’s always heard about Gotham as this sick place. The city corrupted by illness eating itself out like a wounded animal. That intrigued her and she felt as if this is the proper place to hide and never be found. And if she is, it will be probably in the dumpster behind some chemical plant. She could live with that future in mind.

The third reason… the main reason she wasn’t afraid to admit, she just didn’t want to deal with it… was him. Professor Jonathan Crane. Miranda took years of stupid, non-working, useless therapy to end up here. Her… could she even call them fears?... were crippling. And she needed the best. Jonathan Crane was the best. The fear specialist with shady background. But that’s Gotham for you. You might do inhumane experiments on your students and don’t get your licence revoked.

Miranda should probably be afraid of someone like that. Ridiculous idea. He was still running decent psychiatric office and all reviews threw him five stars. She will be careful. She just really needed help.

This was the part she hated. Explaining. She sat in front of the professor. He was fairly young for the title. Miranda’s looked through his files too, though he has been careful keeping most of the information hidden. Star student, at least he used to be. Those climb the leader fast. He wasn’t even forty yet, his ginger hair hid possible grey hair very well. He was watching her with his intense blue eyes and almost never blinked. He waited for her to get everything out. Miranda hated those stories. Repeating them again always made her feel crazy. She probably was.

“It’s complicated. I will try to make it short.” Now, Miranda, where is your hate for beating around the bush, huh? Just tell the nice doctor you are a fucking madwoman.

The professor was silent. Waiting. Even sitting he was very tall, and she noticed his fingers being thin and bony, just like his whole appearance.

“I have a problem. I’ve seen tons of shrinks about it already. Most of them gave up on me or drugged me to no avail. The thing is I have this weird… I don’t know… Phobia. Causing me panic attacks, crippling me.”

“That is not uncommon for deep fears,” said the professor. Miranda wondered how can shrinks be so calm. If someone told her they are crazy, she would probably joke about it right away.

“Yes, I know. I was told that hundred times already. There’s a catch.”

“Do tell.”

Miranda shuffled in her chair. No matter how many times she has talked about this it still made her uncomfortable and she felt like an idiot. But she had to fight this. Or she might…

“It’s ghosts. I panic around ghosts.”

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Miranda quickly stopped him.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. That’s nonsense. I just call these things ghosts. It’s like… hallucination I keep having. They appear and it’s like someone caught my heart and pulled it out of my chest. I feel dead. I cannot move, I cannot act, think, anything. But according to all the doctors, I am sane.”

“When do these ghosts appear?” Professor didn’t even flinch. Nor blinked. He heard crazy talk daily why should she be any more interesting?

“They first appeared a little over a decade back. This is when the first attack happened. Then I got a charm, see?” She touched her necklace. Simple round silver ball that jingled softly when moved. “It keeps them away. When I take this off, I see them. I get attacked right away.”

“May I see?”

She held the pendant firmly. “Sorry, I don’t take it off on the first date.”

Her joke created tiny smile on his face. “Understandable.”

He asked more questions and she tried to answer as truthfully as her crime record allowed. By the end of the session she felt like dried out sponge.

“Don’t be afraid, miss Bradbury. We will figure this out,” professor said when she was leaving.

“Funny you say that. I can’t really feel the fear,” she smiled and that ended their first meeting.

***

Terry Borrows way lying in the hospital bed. They hit their head during the horrid night which caused a mild concussion. The doctors were also worried about their heart because it showed signs of arrythmia. It disappeared a day after the incident, but everyone was head over heels with this situation.

“They keep me here because they want to blame it on me,” wrote Terry to their friend. “Because they have nobody else for the murder.” Terry believed that. This wouldn’t be the first time Gotham has fucked them over. At least they survived. Witnessing murder first hand was like being sentenced to death.

So, they were bored on the hospital bed, half asleep, half awake, back hurting from cheap bedding. Eyes closing and opening again just to see how far the sun has moved or whether the food was ready.

Closing. Opening. The sun was setting.

Closing. Opening. Darkness.

Closing. Opening. Shadow.

Terry’s heart nearly stopped. They shouted by surprise. They are definitely going to die now!

“Terry Borrows,” said the shadow with a deep voice. “I have few questions for you.”

Terry was struck by fear. The rational part of their brain wanted to scream. They didn’t. They watched a man dressed as giant bat and their voice trembled.

“Y-yes?”

“What did you see at the crime scene?”

“I already told the police everything.” There was panic in their voice.

“Tell me.”

“There was a woman, she killed someone. She had some sort of mask. She… ah!”

The door opened. The nurse stepped between the doorframe, looked at Batman and then strategically left closing the door behind her. Terry swallowed a curse.

“Continue,” demanded Batman.

“The sound. It was the sound that made me faint.”

“What else can you remember?”

“The jingle. She was jingling like some fucking Christmas tree.”

“What about her movement?”

“What about it?” asked Terry. Batman just waited to let them figure out what he means. “I don’t know. I saw her just for a few seconds. She was hidden in the shadows.”

“Thank you, Terry.”

“You are welcome?” answered Terry unsurely. Then the door opened again, and doctor stormed in ready to shun the uninvited guest.

But he was already gone.

Chapter 2

#jonathan crane #batman #fanfic #writing #writeblr #ghosts of the past #sick raven writing

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heathenarmyimagines · 7 years ago

Photo

Title: A Different Time

Summary: (Y/N) goes to get the Vikings some clothes, but she gets a little more than she expected.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (Is anyone surprised, really?)

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger

Part One, Part Two

Lunch was filled with awkward silence, everyone fearing if they said the wrong thing the war they started centuries ago would commence.

Eventually the moment passed and things eased into normalcy.

As normal as it could be…all things considered.

You went around and took up all the plates and dishes.

‘Let me help.’ Lagertha offered, standing to help.

'Oh its no trouble, I’m just putting them in the dishwasher.’ you assured.

Lagertha gave you a confused and remembered that she had no clue what you were talking about.

'Right, um what I mean is its no trouble.’ you corrected.

'What is a…dishwasher?’ Ubbe asked.

'It’s a machine that washes dishes for you.’ you said as you placed the dishes in the sink.

Ivar rolled around the table and watched you.

'Machine?’ he asked.

'Yeah, its just like a…bunch of little metal parts that move together to get a job done.’ you explain as best you.

'And how do you use this dishwasher?’ Lagertha asked, walking over to watch as well.

'You just put the dishes in the rack put in the little pod close the latch and…hit wash.’ you demonstrated.

'Just like that?’ Hvitserk asked in amazement.

'Yeah, there are all kinds of machines that make chores easier. Washing and drying machines for laundry, vacuums making sweeping a thing of the past.’

'Amazing, we wouldn’t need nearly as many slaves if we had these…machines.’ Bjorn said.

'Excuse me?’ you glared.

'She doesn’t like the word slave…makes her very angry for some reason. She doesn’t want us using it at all.’ Ivar explained.

'If you wish us not to use it then we won’t, but may I ask why?’ Ubbe questioned.

OK time to give Vikings a black history lesson, because that’s what your life has come to.

'Because my ancestors were enslaved for over two hundred years. Even after slavery was outlawed my people are still treated as less.’ you answered.

They all took in the information.

'We apologize, where were your ancestors from?’ Hvitserk asked.

'Africa, and I prefer not speak of such an unpleasant thing. For now I need to get you all in actual clothes.’ you sighed.

'Are these not suitable?’ Ubbe asked.

Your eyes went from your mom’s Tupac shirt to the man’s pale hairy legs.

'Not at all.’

‘So we are to go out and get clothes?’ Lagertha asked.

‘Well, I could go and get some clothes and you all wait here.’ you deny.

Ivar squinted his eyes and tilted his head.

‘You do not want us out in public.’ Ivar accused.

You sighed, caught red handed.

‘Why not?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Well beside you all being a step over naked, if a cop stops us none of you have any ID. Who knows what will happen then, not like they can deport you, you have no country for them to send you.’ you said.

‘We do not know half the words you just used and I think you know that.’ Ubbe said.

‘OK in simple terms, in our systems none of you exist. There is no official papers with your names on it, no birth certificate or license. Some might think you snuck into the country as terrorist or as spies for other countries.’ you explain.

‘Is that a common happening?’ Lagertha asked.

‘Not everyday, but it could and has happened, and a lot of people die when it does. The point is if you go out there dressed like that you will draw attention and we don’t need that.’

They all seemed to understand what you were saying and silently agreed.

‘At the same time I don’t trust you all left to your own devices in my house.’ you said looking at Ubbe who had stealthily moved back to the dishwasher.

‘You cannot neither take us with you or leave us behind.’ Bjorn said.

‘Now you’re getting it, I guess I can do both. Bring you with me but keep you out sight, you all give me a minute to get dressed.’ you instruct.

‘Are you not fully dressed as well?’ Ivar asked.

You look at the Batman onsie you had put on after your cookie monster one had got soaked in the pool.

‘Not exactly.’ you smiled.

As you went to go to your room you stopped in your tracks and turned around.

‘Do not break anything...please.’ you begged.

You picked out your outfit and a small bit of make up, and thanked God for the fact that your hair was dry enough to style.

Briefly you spare a thought to what the Norse Gods did; took a whole family through time and space, for only one horse. The God you prayed to your whole life was nowhere near as active.

You shake the feeling away, you had come to and respect all religions. Never judging your degrading anyone for their faith.

You finished your hair and hurried back to the living room and saw all the Vikings sitting on the couch looking a anything but you, only Lagertha met your eye.

She motions her head to the flower pot, that usually on your table, was now on the floor.

‘Ivar was messing with it then he dropped it.’ Hvitserk snitched.

‘I was trying to see what kind of flower it was and if I had ever seen it before, then Hvitserk startled me and I let it go.’ Ivar explained giving his brother a dirty look.

You sighed and got your broom, not in the mood to either bust out your vacuum or explaining what that was to your house guests.

After the mess was clean you motioned for them to follow you.

‘What of the mad woman you hid us from?’ Lagertha asked.

‘That crazy woman is only out of her house to be nosy or to garden, and the sun is beginning to set, no doubt she is inside.’ you dismissed.

You lead them through your patio area to your driveway that was almost littered with cars.

‘What are these?’ Ivar asked, touching one as he wheeled past it.

‘More machines, these are called cars, the proper name is automobiles, but no one feels like saying that all the time. We use these to travel long distance, they come in all kinds of different makes and models.’ you answer.

‘Why do you have so many?’ Ubbe questioned.

‘Three belonged to my mom before her eyes got too bad to drive, the others are run down pieces of junk my family dump here until they can get them fixed.’

‘They can break? Do all machines break?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Yes, sometimes the little metal pieces fall out of place or get too damaged to move with the others. Now one of you help Ivar in the car so I can put in his chair, before any other neighbors see you.’ you urged, unlocking and opening the passenger door.

‘We get inside?’ Ivar asked, staring at the van in distrust.

‘Yes, think of it as a big metal wagon...or a cart.’ you say, trying to ease their worries.

With a deep breath Ivar motioned for Hvitserk to lift him from the chair and put him in the seat.

With a relieved smile you open the door and direct the rest into the van, Hvitserk and Ubbe in the back row and Bjorn and Lagertha in the two middle row seats.

You personally put the seat belts on them, to avoid any trouble, then went to fold down the wheelchair and put it in the trunk.

You got in the driver seat and strapped yourself in and checked your mirrors, you looked and saw that everyone was watching you.

‘OK, I’m going to start the car and your gonna feel it rumble and when we start driving you will feel a few bumps and dips.’ you warn before you start the car.

Ivar tighten his grip on the armrest.

‘If you feel sick please say something so I can stop and let you all.’ you say as you pull out of the driveway.

You stuck to the neighborhood speed limit of twenty miles per hour, making sure to stick to the back roads.

‘This moves much faster than any carriage.’ Ubbe said as he, and the others, looked out the windows at the outside world.

You watched as they looked at the houses and signs and all the other things they had never seen and asked questions about them.

They asked a LOT of damn questions, but you stayed patient and answered as best you could.

Finally you pulled into the Walmart parking lot, it wasn’t too crowded, but you still park a good distance away from the building.

‘OK, stay in the car, do not make too much noise, don’t touch any buttons and if anyone comes close to the car look down at your hands.’ you instruct as you got out after you made sure the AC was going so they wouldn’t die while you were in the store.

In the store you bought a lot of white shirts and sweat pants for the guys, you got pretty much the same for Lagertha but you added in a few bras. You had to guess on the sizes for everyone’s underwear, well everyone but Ubbe, you knew his size.

Large.

You shook your head and head over to your socks and grab a few packs, then you grabbed a fuck ton of hard bottom slippers.

With everything you needed for clothes you decide you might as well get some groceries.

You went about adding things to the cart without glancing at the price, you didn’t need to. It wasn’t that you were saving up or anything, its just that since you started living alone you worked a lot more than you needed to. That on top of all the money you got for your brothers and taking care of your mom...money wasn’t a big issue.

As you stood at the cash register, paying for your stuff you looked over and saw a familiar face.

Your boyfriend Alvin, and he was not alone.

There was a girl that you had never seen in your life all over him, and from how he was returning her touches you knew what was going on.

You wanted to feel angry, and run up and start some shit in this Walmart, but all you felt was mild annoyance. For the last month you had been suspicious of him, and you will admit that you had been pulling back from the relationship.

The woman gave you your total and you payed and hurried off hoping Alvin hadn’t seen you. You could talk about it tomorrow.

You got to the van and put your haul into the trunk and got in the car, unintentionally slamming the door.

‘Was everything alright?’ you asked as you strapped in and start the car.

‘Yes, we followed orders, no one came near this machine.’ Hvitserk replied.

‘Good, now lets the hell out here.’ you said as you pulled off.

The drive home didn’t consist of that many questions, or much talking at all, everyone seemed to be watching you.

OK maybe you were becoming more upset the more you thought about Alvin, you hate cheaters.

If you lose interest then end the relationship, that way you can do whatever, but stringing you and this other girl along is unnecessary.

Once you had made it home you, with the help of Ubbe and Hvitserk, got all the groceries in and put Ivar back in his chair.

They all went to get dressed while you were going about putting up the food, after a while they came in looking much more modern.

‘You all look good.’ you commented.

Before anyone could say anything you heard a door close outside, you immediately rush to the window and peaked through the window.

Alvin’s busted ass truck.

‘Shit, all you get to the back!” you hissed pushing Ivar’s chair to the guest room that sat behind the kitchen, everyone following you.

Once they were in you told them to keep quiet and don’t come out.

You hear a loud banging on the door and roll your eyes as you go back to the door.

The second you unlock the door Alvin barges in, he nearly knocked you down.

‘Well hello to you too babe.’ you sassed.

‘Where he at?’

‘Who?’ you asked.

‘The motherfucker you were buying boxers for!’ Alvin yelled.

You scoffed.

‘You can’t be serious with this, OK, where was the girl you were with?’ you asked.

‘Don’t change the subject!’ he shouted.

‘The subject is cheating and that’s what you’re doing dumbass!’ you yelled back.

‘So are you and I want to see him, so he can catch these hands.’ Alvin explained.

‘There is no guy idiot! As one-sided as it was I respected you enough to not cheat on you, where as you didn’t hesitate!’ you accused.

Alvin got quiet.

‘How about I get my phone and go through all the DM’s I get from random bitches telling me that you were sending them all kinds of messages? Or maybe we can look on your phone and see how many girls’ pictures you comment on.’ you challenged.

‘I said stop turning shit around!’

‘You know what, get out of my house! Tell all those InstaBitches they can have your grimy ass. And tell the girl in your car that I said good luck, I hope she has more fun with you than I did.’ you spat as you open the door.

‘I ain’t going nowhere till I find this dude.’ Alvin argued.

Get out, or I’m going to call the cops, and I’ll bet my whole ass that you have a least a joint in that hotbox you call a car.’ you threatened.

Alvin groaned before he threw up his hands in the air.

‘You know what fine, your prude ass was a waste of my time anyway. Never putting out and always asking for me to be patient with you. Your little ass wasn’t going to be worth the wait anyway!’ he snarled as he left slamming the door.

‘Fucking dick!’ you yelled angrily kicking the door in rage.

You took a deep breath as you go to make sure Alvin had driven off before you let everyone out of the room.

‘We’re good, you can come out now.’ you said.

‘Who was that?’ Lagertha asked.

‘No one important.’ you snipped.

‘He seemed very important.’ Ubbe said.

‘I said he was no one! Why do men never listen!?’ you snapped.

Lagertha sighed and turned to Bjorn.

‘Take you brothers back into the room, she doesn’t want to see any of you right now I assure you.’

As all the men head back in the room you hear Hvitserk mumble.

‘It is almost comforting that women still blame all men for one idiot’s actions.’

You went about putting up the last of the food.

‘Would you like to tell me about him, I may not understand much, but I will listen.’ she offered.

‘I met him at my job, he helped train me and even though he was lazy and made me do a lot of grunt work, I am one of the best waitresses in the restaurant now.’ you started.

‘We would talk and flirt, but I refused to date someone I worked with, I didn’t want there to be drama or gossip. Then he quit and found a job he liked and we started dating.’

‘When did it go wrong, the animosity you spoke with shows an anger that had been growing like a weed.’ Lagertha said.

‘Months ago, women would message me saying he had been sending them messages asking to meet him privately and requesting...intimate pictures of them.’ you said.

‘Did he bed them?’

‘I do not know, but when I asked he would get angry and say I was wrong for not trusting him. I saw him out today with another girl, and he had the balls to come here and accuse me.’ you seethed.

You leaned against the counter and threw up your hands in surrender.

‘Why can’t I find a good guy? I mean really good and patient guy, one that doesn’t only want to put his dick in something.’ you said as your eyes watered.

Lagertha came and wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed in her shoulder.

‘It is alright.’ she soothed.

‘I’m not crying over him, I’m not...I’m just tired of trying and failing to find someone. I’m so damn tired of it all, and I think I’m going to give up on it.’ you sniffled.

‘I was betrayed by every man in my life, and understand wanting to stop, but as I aged I learned to love me first. Never look for any man or woman to complete you, be whole on your own.’ Lagertha advised.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, and nodded.

‘I’m sorry for crying all over you.’ you apologize.

‘It is alright, I had a daughter once and I never got the opportunity to console her after a broken heart. She died too young, you are not her and I know that, but if you ever need me as a friend or as mother I will do the best I can.’ she smiled.

You smiled back and laughed.

‘I should probably apologize to the guys, they didn’t deserve me yelling at them.’

‘Of course they did, they are men, they are always doing something worth yelling about.’ Lagertha grinned.

You laugh as you go to open the door.

All the men but Bjorn were all right by the door, Ubbe nearly fell over Ivar’s chair.

‘How much did you hear?’ you asked.

‘Enough to know all men deserve to be yelled at...mother.’ Bjorn said raising a brow at Lagertha.

‘I will only apologize son when it stops being true.’

‘We are not all like this...Alvin, not all men mistreat women.’ Hvitserk said, stepping closer to you.

Lagertha stepped between the two of you.

‘How many of you men here have never mistreated a woman, or been truly faithful to one in both heart and body?’ she asked.

Hvitserk looked away, as did everyone else.

‘I have never mistreated or been unfaithful to any woman.’ Ivar said, looking at you intensely.

You were caught off guard by the stare and became visibly rattled by it.

For a while the two of you continued your intense staring contest, Ivar was smirking at your reaction while you just stood there too shook to speak.

‘Ahem.’ Bjorn cleared his throat making you jump.

‘Yes, what?’ you said.

‘I would like to leave this room but you two are blocking the way.’ he said.

‘Right, sorry.’ you blushed as you left the room, watching as they all came out, one by one.

Ivar was the last and he gave you that look again as he past.

What the hell just happened?

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #bjorn ironside #hvitserk lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #lagertha #vikings imagine

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13thgenfilm · 3 years ago

Text

Working On ‘Last Chance Charlene’ By Felipe Barandiaran

Felipe Barandiaran is a Miami native pursuing a degree in Film Production. He is currently a production intern with 13th Gen, part of the company’s national remote internship program, which is currently mentoring four talented, aspiring filmmakers.

Setting the Scene

It was May 18th, 2021 and I was sitting in the glow of my computer screen, waiting to enter a Zoom call, a common occurrence in these times. However, this was no ordinary Zoom call for me, it was one that would change me as a filmmaker forever.

I had started my internship at 13th Gen in April and right from the start I loved all of my assignments. With some guidance from Marc Smolowitz, 13th Gen’s CEO & owner, I narrowed my focus to working on narrative work and was offered three scripts to review. Reading the three stories helped me understand different writing styles and exposed me to new stories that I never would have thought of myself.

One story stood out for me, “THE THORNS WE LIVE WITH,” written by Tony Gapastione. I liked it because it combined humor, drama, heartfelt moments, and much more. I let Marc know my thoughts on the project and a few days later I received a phone call from him with a life-changing offer: if I was interested in working on Tony’s first feature film - a different project called “LAST CHANCE CHARLENE” - he would help make the connection. I told him I needed a couple of days to think about it but in retrospect, I already knew the answer.

Back to May 18th ... My first meeting about the project was fast-approaching and my nerves grew with each passing second. At 5:30pm exactly, I saw Tony Gapastione’s face for the first time and all of my nervousness went away when we began talking. I don’t remember much more of the meeting, but I do know it went well because I bought a plane ticket from Miami to San Francisco after only just meeting someone on the internet!

A Big Change On Day One Of Shooting

The day before the project kicked off, I had only been in the Bay Area for one day. We started rolling officially on June 6th and I was about to meet everyone for the first time. In an unplanned feat of perfect timing, I arrived on set at the same time as Tony, the director of the film, and then little by little, the principal crew showed up to dress the set and get everything ready for this first day of shooting!

Once the whole crew arrived, we huddled around so everyone could meet each other and break the ice, as they say. When the huddle broke, Tony approached me with Terry, the Script Supervisor, to let me know that the first two days of shooting I would not be a PA (Production Assistant) but would be filling in her role because she was unable to be on set. I took the unexpected opportunity and ran with it!

Overall Experience

Everything I learned in film school was about Hollywood sets and how big teams functioned. We were taught that crews can only work in their respective departments. For example, grips cannot touch lights, and best boys can’t touch any grip equipment, etc. The beauty of independent filmmaking is there are no rules, no steadfast boundaries - everyone pitches in to get the job done. The editor of the film, Lupe Talakai, was also the 1st AC, Second Camera, and a producer of the film too. Kat Yeh, who was on wardrobe, also helped out in other areas; in fact, the crew nicknamed her Super Wardrobe! Alex Gonzales, who originally started as Video BTS, morphed into a producer and played a big overall role in the film. And look at me, I started as a Scripty and left the project as AD (Assistant Director). For me that’s the beauty of indie filmmaking, there are no boundaries - you’re given the opportunity to do many different things and move around as needed.

Stepping onto that set on the first day, I never had experienced working on a film this size, but with the help of our amazing crew, I felt confident that I could do my job. Like me, it was almost everyone’s first time working on a feature, so there was an aura of pride and joy all around.

My first two days covering for Scripty created a strange illusion of time passing by a million miles an hour, but weirdly at the same time moving at a snail's pace. I’ve had similar experiences in school, funny enough while taking notes in school. On paper, the tasks for those first two days sound fairly simple: take notes and make sure everything stays the same. However, this is where you would be mistaken. As the Script Supervisor, you have to make sure every action from every angle is done at the same time and speed, every prop in the background stays in the same location, and every line perfectly said, and right on time! As much as I tried to hide it, my brain was completely fried trying to hold on to all of the small details of every potential continuity error. After two days in this challenging role, I was passed the torch back to Terry and moved onto the next task.

I originally joined the project as a PA, but as you know by now, the indie filmmaking world is anything but ordinary. There was a vacant spot for the AD role, which is unusual itself, and having a PA jump to AD is almost unheard of. It’s the equivalent of an intern at a tech company being promoted into a head coding role within their first 2 weeks! Nonetheless I jumped into the role as smoothly as I could. I have had prior experience as AD on some student films and understand what’s needed, but jumping into that role on a project this size was definitely a huge step. For me, this marked the biggest growth I have had as a filmmaker at this point of my career.

Working alongside Tony showed me how to be a leader without brute force, and to lead by example. His company, BraveMaker, operates by the core values of love and optimism to create a better future, while also offering a step into the filmmaking world. Tony himself is the embodiment of BraveMaker’s core values.

My first day as AD was a big day not only for me, but the whole crew, as that was the day we had Alley Mills on set. It was the first time most of the crew had the chance to work with a well established name in the industry, which motivated us to work harder and more efficiently. She was such a great presence and was extremely caring. After we wrapped she wished us the best in completing not only the film, but in our young and budding careers.

Typically, an AD is the most hated person on the film crew because they are charged with encouraging the team to complete their best work. This can entail a lot of yelling and sometimes gaining the respect of a crew under the AD role is a very thin line to navigate, one I felt like I succeeded with this project.

Throughout the rest of the filming, I was extremely grateful that even though I came on as a PA and then moved to an AD, I was given a chance to complete my job and had the backing of my crew, from the Producers Keren and Jessica, who helped me transition into the role smoothly, to the DP Christian, who I assisted to get the shoots he needed on time, and to the Director Tony, who greenlighted the idea to bring me up as AD, working closely with him.

End Scene

The filming of “LAST CHANCE CHARLENE” was an experience that I will never forget and it has definitely advanced my abilities as a filmmaker. Returning home with this newly gained confidence is helping me with my internship at 13th Gen. Currently, I see the skills I learned while working with a big film crew help me in my one-on-one dealings with clients, which is helping me on the project I am working on for Marc, THE G WORD. In the future, 13th Gen is working with Tony on his next feature length project, “THE THORNS WE LIVE WITH.” To learn more about this San Francisco-based film company, visit 13thgenfilm.com.

Written by Felipe Barandiaran.

0 notes

theemightypen · 7 years ago

Note

2, 80, 152, 154 for Éothíriel, please :)

Other prompts are under the cut! :)

2) “Not you again…” (Canon)

“Not you again,” Eomer grumbles.

“Eomer!” Cries Eowyn, horror plain her voice.

“Yes, me again,” Lothiriel chirps, unfazed by his less-than-pleasant welcome. “And it will be ‘me again’ until my cousin asks for a different chaperone.”

“Which I will not,” said cousin adds, grinning at both of them over Eowyn’s shoulder.

“Chaperone,” Eomer grumbles. Gondorian courting methods are entirely too stuffy for his taste. Eowyn, however, seems not to mind them, as long as she is still able to spend time in her Steward’s presence.

As it is, his little sister is staring daggers at him until he begrudgingly offers the princess his elbow. Her touch is dainty, proper, and barely-there, as if it discomforts her to touch him. They stroll aimlessly around the gardens for a while, a “respectable” distance behind Faramir and Eowyn. Neither of them speak, though he knows silence comes as easily to her as it does to Pippin.

The sudden press of her fingers at his elbow after they round another corner startles him. She must feel his flinch because she offers him a wry smile, nodding down at a particularly colorful flower. “Do you know what this flower is, my lord?”

“Gardening is not amongst my strong suits,” he admits. “So no, I do not.”

“Hm, let me think,” she says, peering at the flower with apparent interest. She looks and looks and looks–Eomer can feel his irritation mounting.

He knows very well she is Imrahil’s daughter, Faramir’s favorite cousin, and not a person of little importance to Eowyn, either, who has so few female companions in Gondor, but he cannot stop himself from finally spitting out, “Are you quite finished, my lady?”

She blinks innocently up at him. “Yes, I remembered its name. A peony. It symbolizes a wish for a happy life and a happy marriage.”

“Thrilling,” Eomer answers, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

The princess remains unfazed, saying, “Isn’t it? Perhaps Eowyn would like–oh, but where have they gone?”

The garden is empty. Neither Eowyn’s blonde head nor Faramir’s darker one are anywhere in sight.

“Oh, dear,” Lothiriel says in an entirely unconvincing tone, “I suppose they will have to continue on without us.”

He blinks down at her in surprise. “You…planned this?”

“Not all of us Gondorians enjoy stuffy traditions,” she answers with a smile. “And I like Eowyn. She and Faramir have earned their happiness, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. Surely, she has not always been so lovely? It must be the sun-soaked garden, or the heady smell of the spring flowers, that are making him notice the raven-sheen to her hair, the dark depths of her eyes, the flush of pink in her cheeks.

Eomer’s hands move of their own accord to pull the nearest flower–the peony–and he tucks it into her hair, just behind her ear, before his common sense has the chance to catch up with him. The pink in her cheeks darkens, but a small smile plays at her lips as well. “You do know you have just wished me a happy life and a happy marriage, do you not?”

“I can think of no thing you deserve more,” is his honest answer.

This time, when her arm comes to rest in his again, there is nothing dainty–or barely-there–about her touch.

80) “Let’s run away together.” (Canon)

As Aunt Ivriniel launches into her third story concerning the local delicacies of Dol Amroth, Lothiriel can see the King of Rohan’s head dip dangerously close to the rim of his soup. Hiding a smile behind her hand, she lays her free one at the top of his wrist.

Just as she suspected, he all but shoots into an upright position, coming out of his daze at a warrior’s pace.

“It is only me,” she murmurs.

Lothiriel sees, rather than hears, his sigh of relief. “Thank Bema for that.”

“Is my aunt boring you, my lord?”

The spots of color in his cheeks, just visible above his beard, are utterly endearing. “I–I would not say boring–”

“It is alright if you do,” she interrupts, “Amrothos and I have said the same thing for years.”

She nods to where her youngest brother sits, exhibiting extremely unprincely behavior by picking at his nails with the tiny seafood fork. Eomer snorts, disguising his amusement with a cough as a few people shoot him curious looks.

Lothiriel considers the recklessness of what she is about to say, but the way that Eomer has failed to shift his hand out from under hers gives her courage where she might have hesitated. “How good are you at escape plans, my lord?”

His eyebrow arches, but he answers readily enough, saying, “I was not made a marshal of the Mark without knowing how to move stealthily, my lady.”

“Good,” she whispers, “for I intend to show you something much more exciting than Dol Amroth’s stew recipes.”

She departs the table first, complaining of a headache. Ada merely waves her off with a sympathetic smile–he loves his sister, truly, but even he knows how long-winded she becomes after two glasses of wine–but Elphir frowns, clearly suspecting some mischief.

Always too wise for his own good, is her oldest brother.

Eomer must manage his own exit graciously enough, for he meets her on the stairs leading down towards the shore in nearly record time. Emboldened by their success, she slips her hand into his, though she could make this climb blind-folded, and he has a warrior’s grace in nearly everything he does.

Eventually, they reach the shore, coming to stand along the sea-wall she knows so well. “Look up,” she orders, gently.

“Bema,” he says, “I have never seen so many stars.”

“It is my favorite view in all of Dol Amroth,” Lothiriel admits.

“Then it is mine as well,” Eomer answers, and something in his tone makes her shiver, despite the warmth of the sea-breeze.

She can feel him shift, behind her, and then he is behind her in truth, his arms slipping around her to pull her back against the warm, strong breadth of his chest. Lothiriel bites her lip to keep from smiling and threads her fingers through his.

“This is,” Eomer says, his breath hot against the shell of her ear, eliciting another round of shivers, “infinitely preferable to listening to your aunt wax poetic about shellfish.”

Lothiriel could not agree more.

152) “Stop texting me weird stuff late at night!” (Modern AU)

His phone buzzing at 2:30 in the morning is not the way Eomer would prefer to be woken up. In fact, he’d like to not be woken up at all, seeing as how Derby season was only a few weeks away, and he’d need every second of sleep he could get between now and then to properly function.

Groaning, wondering if it was Eowyn, fretting to him about her impending wedding, or more likely, Theodred, complaining about one horse or another, he lifts his phone.

Blinking at the unfamiliar number, and the even more perplexing text, Eomer can only stare at his phone in confusion. It must be the wrong number, he thinks, and sets his phone back down with a grumble.

A week later, he’s forgotten the text entirely, too caught up in preparing Firefoot for the races to worry about a surely accidental message from a random number.

But then it happens again: slightly earlier, and on a Saturday night, when he and Aragorn have agreed to meet up for a beer.

“What the hell,” he says.

Aragorn peeks over his shoulder and snorts at the text. “Interesting topic of discussion, Eomer.”

“I didn’t start this,” he protests. “I don’t even know who’s sending these messages–”

He’s not fast enough to stop his friend from snatching the phone from his hand and reading the other text about the damn penguins. The look on Aragorn’s face after he’s read it is horribly, terrifyingly smug. “I think,” he says, smirking, “someone’s got a crush on you, Eomer Eomundson.”

Eomer rolls his eyes. “I think some kid has the wrong number.”

“Why don’t you answer and find out?” Aragorn prompts.

But Aragorn and Arwen–his wife of two years come summertime, not that either of them would let anyone forget it–are notorious matchmakers, and Eomer is not a fool.

“No,” he says, tone final.

And he holds to it. At least, he does until he gets another message, three weeks later, after Firefoot makes it through semi-finals.

Eomer mutters a curse, finally texting back in the hope that the person–prankster, kid, weird veterinarian, whoever–would finally leave him be.

The response is immediate, and weirdly enough, normal:

For some reason, that’s almost more disarming than the texts themselves.

Belatedly, he realizes this person must know it’s him they’re texting, making him the only one in the dark. Against his better judgment, he finds himself saying:

Eomer hesitates–it could be anyone texting him. A nasty prank from one of his exes, a less-than-tasteful joke headed by Merry and Pippin, or truly a wrong number after all…but he agrees, anyways, blaming the insanity on the stress of the season, of the fact that Eowyn was about to be married and move thousands of miles away, for his lapse in judgement.

The next morning finds him wired off two cups of coffee, anxiously tapping his leg underneath the slightly ramshackle table. He doesn’t recognize anyone–a good sign, and a bad one–and he’s honestly debating leaving when there’s the sudden appearance of a hand at the opposite corner of the table. In said hand is a moderately-sized pebble.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” comes a familiar voice, warm with amusement.

He looks up to find Lothiriel–Faramir’s cousin Lothiriel, who he hasn’t seen since she left two years before to do a stint with some endangered species protection agency–smiling down at him. She’s always been pretty–not that he’d have admitted it before now, because she was Faramir’s cousin and younger than Eowyn to boot–but she looks nothing short of beautiful now, her hair longer than ever, her figure more filled out, a smattering of–frankly–adorable freckles across the bridge of her nose. Abruptly, he’s reminded of that one, ill-timed kiss at her graduation party that they’d both agreed never to discuss again.

Apparently, they hadn’t been in as much agreement as he’d thought.

He’s strangely happy about that.

“Well,” he says, reaching out to pluck the pebble from her hand, “I wasn’t about to be outdone by a bunch of animals.”

Lothiriel’s smile is worth every hour of missed sleep.

(She doesn’t stop texting him weird things late at night, even when they’re married.

)

154) “There’s only one bed…” (Modern AU)

Lothiriel isn’t sure if she wants to strangle Pippin or kiss him, for pulling such a stunt.

“Come to Hobbiton!” Her supposed friend had said. “Merry and I’ll put you up!”

But Pippin had failed to mention that Merry had invited Eomer as well, and that both he and Merry had live-in girlfriends now, the pair of them wouldn’t mind sharing the guest room, would they?

“Besides, we all shared a room for Eowyn and Faramir’s wedding!”

Well, they had, but it had been a very large room, with eight separate beds for the bridal party, and three other women–Tauriel, a friend of Eowyn’s from roller-derby, Wilfled, Eowyn’s cousin, and Arwen, Aragorn’s obscenely pretty and kind wife–there as well.

Eomer must be thinking something similar, if the muttered cursing is anything to go by.

“Eomer, it’ll be fine,” she finds herself saying. “We’re both adults, the bed is plenty large. It’ll…it’ll be like a sleepover!”

“We’re not a pair of teenage girls, Lothiriel,” Eomer answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kindly refrain from calling this weekend a ‘sleepover’.”

“Well, fine,” she says, determined not to let him catch on how much the idea of sharing a bed with him–Elbereth, just being in the same room as him–makes her pulse race, makes her thing horrible, dirty things about her best friend’s brother, “I’m taking the right side.”

Dinner manages to be a pleasant affair, despite it all. Diamond–Pippin’s girlfriend–and Estella–Merry’s girlfriend–are exceedingly friendly, and balance out Merry and Pippin’s tendency towards the inane with grace. Eomer relaxes after his third whiskey enough to smile at her when she tells some story about Amrothos embarrassing himself at his latest sailing competition. His smile is as handsome as ever and she’s very, very glad that the wine has already put color into her cheeks.

This is fine, she thinks, it’ll be fine.

It is not so fine, however, when they manage to stumble their way to the guest bedroom after one last drink. Lothiriel has to nearly hurl herself into her suitcase in her hurry to look away when Eomer carelessly flings his shirt over his head. She shimmies out of her jeans, trying–and failing–not to notice how the noise from his side of the room abruptly stops as she wiggles into the old t-shirt of Erchirion’s she usually sleeps in. She would have brought pants if she’d known she’d be sharing a bed, but as it is, she hadn’t. As if things weren’t awkward enough.

Lothiriel crawls into bed, trying to ignore the frantic thrum thrum thrum of her heart in her ears. It’s only made worse when Eomer slides in beside her, the heat of him nearly unbearable, even under the thin sheet.

“The light,” he says, voice strangely hoarse.

She nods, flipping the switch and blanketing the room in darkness.

It does little to help: she feels hyper-aware of everything. The sound of his breathing. The smell of whatever shampoo he uses. The gentle brush of his hand over her jaw–wait.

“Eomer?” She asks in a tiny voice.

“Lothiriel,” he says, and Elbereth, she can feel his nose nearly against hers, his breath a hot gust horribly, wonderfully close to her mouth, “tell me if…tell me if this isn’t–”

She laughs, a quiet huff in the stillness of the room. “You are,” she says, reaching out blindly and finding his shoulder, sliding her hand until she finds the back of his neck, “so incredibly thick-headed, Eomer Eomundson.”

His kiss is exactly what she expected and not: passionate, of course, and achingly, wonderfully good, but infused with so much tenderness that she could nearly cry from it. The press of his mouth and the heat of his hands is made better by the dark, by the way he pulls back to kiss her forehead before trailing a string of kisses along her jaw, down her neck–

Merry glares at both of them, the following morning, bags apparent under his eyes.

Pippin, however, looks positively gleeful. “You’re welcome,” he tells her.

“Oh, eat your food,” she says, half-heartedly, because Eomer’s hand is in hers under the table, and she can’t recall feeling this happy in a very, very long time.

#my writing #eomer x lothiriel #eothiriel #prompt response

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sawyernathan1991 · 4 years ago

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How Many Attunements For Reiki 1 Startling Tricks

Many people learn Reiki is excellent to use Reiki, the above considerations, how can one become a master reiki and allows relief of cancer by Dr. Usui and Tibetan Master symbols and hand position that was massage!A block solar plexus chakra deprives the individual receiving the energy.Teaching Reiki is an openness to receive a healing.Once they have to undergo an attunement session, the practitioner and hopefully not opt for something to read up on the history of Reiki actually means to achieve a Reiki class.

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Reiki Level 2 Attunement Symbols

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Reiki Zen Meditation Music 3 Hours

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#How Many Attunements For Reiki 1 Startling Tricks #Reiki Healing Experiences

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cassiebunny9 · 7 years ago

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The Aftermath (Can be read as Part 3) Drake x MC

I’m not a hugely active member of the fandom community. To be honest, I joined Tumblr to read the amazing fiction that all these talented writers have produced. This is my take on what happened after the Coronation, and it eludes to events mentioned in my previous chapters. I hope everyone enjoys. Getting the feedback I have already has been amazing. Things are pretty stressful at the mo and my escapism into writing has helped massively, so thank you

MC name is Riley Tanner

Again, probably a ton of typos and clunky sentences

*************************************************************************************

My head is spinning, and I can vaguely feel a gentle pull on my arm as I am escorted from the palace. Maxwell and Bertrand make the occasional noise from somewhere behind me, but I don't feel the need to seek where. Numb. I have been well and truly played by this awful place. I arrived tonight, expecting to privately tell Liam that I was not his 'one', let him choose another, and slink back to New York without bringing shame on the Beaumont's, unable to marry just for the finances, especially when my heart was firmly in the palms of a certain grumpy commoner. The night had passed in such a blur, only my time with Drake shining amongst the hazy memories, well that and Liam telling me he loved me. I just couldn't formulate the words that would shred his heart in that instant, and then time had trickled away. I had left it too late, and any chance Drake and I may have had did too. My lips still hum with Drake's touch, our stolen kisses by the bar, and I know how lucky we were that it was the Tariq pictures that the press had got hold of, the ones that can be explained as a misunderstanding. My stomach drops as I imagine someone capturing my 'moments in between' with Drake.

That night with Drake after the Beaumont ball still haunts me, how close we came to becoming one, before he had changed hid mind. His words, designed to sting, had hit their target and I truly believed he didn't care. Tonight, he betrayed himself, showing his emotions, and that maybe he feels something deeper.

The guard leading me takes his hand off me, and I finally note that its Bastian and that we've reached the guardhouse by the gates. His eyes are narrowed at me. 'Your personal belongings will be collected and brought to Beaumont house. We ask you to remember the privacy agreement signed before the social season started regarding the press, the Royal Family take their security very personally.' He sighs, and lowers his voice so the guards giving the same spiel to Maxwell and Bertrand don't hear his voice soften as he says 'I'm so sorry this is how things have turned out Lady Riley'. He turns, gesturing wordlessly to the other two guards to follow him back within the palace gates which close with a clashing finality. Bertrand is already on the phone, walking away, his expression unreadable. Maxwell approaches, and wraps me in the jacket he's just removed. I hadn't even noticed the chill in the air but appreciate the gesture. 'I gathered from what you and Drake were saying that this has been a set up, but we mustn't discuss it until we are away from prying eyes, we could be in serious trouble.' I squeeze his hand, and smile weakly at him. He squeezes back and I take comfort in knowing that he's still my friend. As we stand waiting for Bertrand to return, the grand gates are suddenly illuminated by headlights, and I recognize the Beaumont limo, grateful it's the promise of leaving this place for good. I slide inside, knees together, and swivel round, and come face to face with non other than Drake. I throw myself into his waiting arms, and finally let myself feel what I've been ignoring. He lets me cry, holds me tight, and caresses my hair. There's shame, so much shame, in how pictures of me in my underwear are everywhere. Knowing I deserve to feel like this, but certainly not because of Tariq. Anger, at how a situation where I was the victim has been made to look like I'm encouraging him. I still shiver at the genuine fear I had felt when he didn't appear to be listening to my refusals. And weirdly relief. Relief that something outside of my control or influence has allowed me to leave, not engaged to a man I cannot love.

Drake I felt my only decent suit get soaked with a mixture of tears and mascara and I didn't give a damn, I'd only worn it to impress Tanner anyway. I had tried to follow her out, held back by the guards it was an impossibility. Hana was going mad, clawing wildly at them, leaving marks but making no progress in getting through. Changing tact, I appeared to concede defeat and I'd snuck out into the garage and found the Beaumont limo. The driver was on the phone, already no doubt speaking to Bertrand and I seized my opportunity and snuck in. I knew that Liam had misgivings over the nature of those photos, but he had still put his royal obligations in front of his and Riley's needs. All this time, I had thought that Liam had deserved a chance at true love, but how could Riley be that if he could turn away without a whimper. Of course Liam professed to love her, but suddenly he didn't seem to be the superior option anymore. He was never going to put her first, and she deserved that. Snapped back to the present, I become acutely aware that Maxwell and Bertrand have entered the limo, and have most probably been watching us for several minutes. Bertrand looks angry, but Maxwell has a small smirk on his face. The rest of the drive is silent, except a few hiccups from Riley who has folded herself up into the crook of my arm, and tenses every time I move, afraid to let me go. The feeling is mutual and I rub small circles on her shoulder, feeling the tension in them lift slightly. We arrive at the Beaumont's estate and I hesitate, not knowing if I'm welcome after whatever it is they’ve assumed after that limo ride. Riley yanks my hand, but I look for Bertrand, and he clicks impatiently. 'We may as well have all the facts, don't you think Drake? Please, come on in'. This time when Riley pulls my hand with hers, I follow her lead. We head towards the study, the scene of our first kiss, and Riley squeezes my hand tight, I can't help but squeeze back. I have to smother a small smile, literally an hour ago I thought that I would never get the chance to touch her again, that she'd be engaged. I hate how she's been humiliated and dragged through the coals, but its my hand that’s wrapped protectively around hers and I can't help but savor it. All the reasons for pushing her away before seem redundant, we may have made a mess of our feelings but this situation would be happening regardless of any actions we had or hadn't taken. We take a seat, choosing the two closest chairs, and I force myself to break the contact, letting her hand slide away. 'Shall we begin everyone.' Bertrand remains standing behind the impressive desk, whilst Maxwell takes the seat the other side of me. Bertrand looks every inch the scolding Headmaster and I scowl, as Riley is not at fault when it comes to those photos. I stand, despising feeling like a naughty child. 'The night those photos were taken, Tariq made unwanted advances to Tanner. There were no locks on her door and he let himself in. I heard her cry out, came to investigate and kicked him out'. I chance a look at her, and she holds her head up, her back straight, and I'm so proud of her for not backing down before the quailing face of Bertrand. 'Drake is right, I was undressing for bed, hence the underwear by the way, when he appeared from nowhere. I tried to let him down gently, but I was actually beginning to worry he wasn't going to take 'No' for an answer.' she turns her gaze to mine 'I'm so thankful you were there that night Drake, I'm not sure if I ever thanked you properly.' I wave off her thanks, just grateful that I was there to intercept. 'Well then, this makes things simpler! We just need to explain the situation, Drake was a witness. Liam could still change his mind!' Maxwell exclaims, smiling round at everyone. I tense, even though I knew that would be the plan once they found out the backstory. Riley stands, and her posture remains proud. I see a shaky breath expel before she lifts her chin and looks to Bertrand. 'I appreciate everything you have done for me,' she turns to Maxwell, 'Both of you. But I will remain in Cordonia long enough to clear my name, and expose Madeline as the manipulative witch she is. But once Liam is free from her grasp, I will return to New York…indefinitely'.

#trr #drake x mc #the royal romance #choices #pixelberry #fanfic

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lilysbook · 7 years ago

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Ramblings: Reflection

My 3 weeks of freedom is coming to an end in 3 more days.

The first week was filled with apprehension and anxiety as I busied myself with the thoughts of finding a part-time job right away before my internship officially starts. It seems that I had forgotten how tough it was to get a job. I sent several resumes and even had an interview however time was a cruel factor. After a few half-hearted attempt in securing a job, I realise that I would not get this opportunity again in the near future. The opportunity to just do nothing. To rest and relax after 3 years of monotonous and toxic environment, I can afford to rest for a mere 3 weeks, can’t I? So rest and relax I did.

In the second week, there were news of EXO’s grand comeback, and EXO’s official SNS were created. Rumors about teaser (and eventually official news of the teasers) started to arise. SM dropped individual teasers at 12am KST each night for their title track.

It was the beginning of my fangirl experience in comebacks. I was on twitter 24/7 and I think that I am an annoyance to my non-EXO twitter stans who had to see all my fangirling EXO tweets, so I am a little sorry about that. As this was my first comeback experience (EXO was my first ever kpop group I am obsessed with), I had no idea what to expect. So, I stayed up every night to wait for the new teaser alongside my twitter timeline that became frenzied every night an hour before it was released. The experience was in a word... fun. I had a sense of comradeship with my fellow EXO-Ls (although I don’t have any common mutuals -- I usually tweet and talk to myself loll). But I had a great time reading, liking and retweeting. The best part was 5 minutes before the teaser. Everyone in the timeline was filled with anticipation and excitement so it’s so easy to fall into the delirium as well.

Kai was the first member in the teaser. Even though I had been excited just a minute before, when the teaser opened with the catchy tune, my heart dropped. Kai had dreads. Disappointment mixed with adoration. Kai looked so cute as always but he had dreads. My stand on it is that it is cultural appropriation and that it is not right for those not in the African culture to have it. Some don’t share my view but I think it is still wrong. He had dreads during the Wolf era as well and he did not like it so why now? Many (including me) defended him saying that the stylist/SM were the ones who forced it upon him. However, now we know that Kai was the one who requested for the hairstyle which disappointed me even more. He needs to be educated about this and some EXO-Ls had planned to do so. Hope that the message will reach him and he will be more knowledgeable about it and hopefully he would stopped wearing that hairstyle.

Baekhyun was next. The first thing that I did was to laugh at his hairstyle. But as time goes by, I think he pulls off the mullet really well. I fell in love right away with the song in his teaser, Forever. Kyungsoo’s line “Don’t break my soul...” was a clincher.

There were many theories of whose teaser it will be the following night. Some said it was in alphabetical order, some said it followed the old songs order, some said it was the appearance in the teaser of the previous member. The last theory proved to be right (well, only for the first few nights). Chanyeol was the one to appear in the teaser. I loved his cotton candy hair. I love any hair that is bright. Chanyeol look so handsome in the teaser. The song Chill was awesome too.

Sehun came next and he looks good as always. He had grown on me over time. I always look forward to him when he is in variety shows. He has that natural entertainment sense. Anyway, he was amazingly badass in the teaser. His chest was covered with tattoos and his gaze was intense. I was like, woahhhh the maknae has grown up!

The next night was Suho. I love Suho and his awkwardness. But there were no traces of awkwardness in his teaser. He looks dashing even in the various weirdly-styled outfit and his centre-parted mob of hair; both fits him perfectly. Suho is very princely and he has that royal aura surrounding him. As expected, that is our leader with high ranked visuals.

We were left with my top 3 biases: Kyungsoo, Xiumin, Chen & Lay. I know now that Lay is not in the comeback, but back then, I still had that tiny hope that he would appear the last night or something. Anyways, I was still so grateful and happy that SM saved my favourite boys for the last.

The next night was Xiumin. Wow. I was so speechless by his ethereal beauty. Is Minseok even real? As I have posted often here on Tumblr (LOL), Xiumin is my bias wrecker. I just can’t keep my eyes of him in the teaser. He has that gentle and feminine look that I adore so much, yet he is manly (do I make sense?). He is just so so beautiful. His eyes is his best feature. With his black comma hairstyle, (let’s face it he can dye his hair in any colour and he still look gorgeous) he was the most good-looking out of all the members by far. Of course, EXO has no visual hole (everyone is so very extremely handsome) and this is just my personal opinion anyways. Xiumin is just so underrated sometimes and I just want to shake everyone and tell them to look at that beauty and talent and intelligent human being and stop sleeping on him. His vocal is one of the top in EXO but he was still overlooked. I’m so glad that SM gave him more chance to shine with Young and Free and also The War album. So proud of you my darling, beautiful Minseok.

Chen came next. Different from the other nights, I watched the teaser late because I was not home. The first thing when I got data was to check who was next HAHA. This level of dedication (or obsession) surprise even me. Anyway, it was the vocalist who slays high notes in EXO, Chen. I like Chen’s personality. He even bleached his hair for the first time just for this album. That is dedication. I always like idols with blonde hair as I find them good-looking and Jongdae was no exception. he looks so good in the teaser.

And then who do we have left? Yes, it is my ult bias in EXO, D.O, Do Kyungsoo. Out of all the members, I like his voice the most (yes I may be slightly biased). I like everything about him. I like that he is shy outside, but his stage presence is amazing. I like that he is passionate about both his singing and acting. I like that he is a man of few words, but when he talks, everyone cracks up. I like that even though he is physically small, he is a manly man. I like his smile, I like his hair. I like his loyalty because even though he has acting commitments, he drops everything for EXO. I like him so so much. In the teaser, he smiled so gently, it feels like he is my boyfriend. In this album, I like that he has a lot of parts because i like his singing voice. You know how you like someone and you like everything about them but you cannot also point out specifically what you like about them because you are afraid you will miss out on something? Yeah, that’s how I feel about Kyungsoo. I just... like him as a person. I admire him so much.

Even though I have biases in EXO, I love each and every member too. They are talented and popular, yet they remain humble and polite and down-to-earth. They were met with so many challenges but even so, they are still one. Their gratitude towards the fans are what made us EXO-Ls stay and what makes them still relevant imo. I hope Lay will join them in the repackage album!!!

I love stanning EXO.

Anyway, the group teaser of Kokobop was released night after Kyungsoo’s and then the MV the day after. I love the song. I love the whole The War album. I love how EXO feels so excited about this album because they were involved in the making thus making them attached to it. The MV itself needed some time to get used to because there were slight drug references in it. The first time I watched, I had already picked up on the not-so-subtle cues that they were high on drugs lol (don’t do drugs kids). But I may have overreacted and think too much as well. I don’t know. Baekhyun explained they were aliens sent to Earth (in reference to previous MVs). The filmography was amazing though.

They then had Vlive and everyone was so funny and cute omg especially Kyungsoo’s freestyle dance to Touch It. HAHAHA that ahjussi. The most exciting schedule that they have and that I am looking forward to would be their appearance in Knowing brothers. I am a Knowing Brothers maniac so having two of my faves set of people meet is the best thing a fangirl can get.

Their first live performance of Kokobop was just tonight and it was amazing. The dance, the vocal, the visual were top notch. I like the starting and the dance break part the best.

And they performed The Eve too. Wow. It has a sensuous feeling to it. HAHA. I am barely explaining it but the whole album is that way so yeah. (I want to see this live lol. I attended Exor’dium concert where they performed Artificial Love and woah what an incredible experience).

Anyway, my point of this entry (before I could stop myself from writing an essay about EXO) was that EXO unintentionally became my project during these 3 weeks break. I experienced how it was like becoming a full-time fangirl and it was an amazing and fun experience. I foresee myself not having the luxury of committing this much time and effort in the future due to internship and work commitment hence these 3 weeks had been an enriching and novel experience in its’ own way. I believe that everything happened for a reason. EXO’s comeback just happened to be at the time where I have no commitment and for that, I am utterly grateful.

I will be cherishing my last 3 days and giving full support towards my boys whose rival is their 2016 self (as wisely said by Minseok). I will be like them and constantly try to improve myself as well.

This had been really fun. I will miss this feeling.

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secondmile-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Discovering my ABC’s in PNG!

Hello family and friends,

I hope this post finds you well. I miss you all. Your replies to send me hurrahs bring me inexplicable joy! And somehow, I weirdly miss the sweater weather too.

Time apart from home, friends, church, and work life had me reflecting on my relationships with you. I look at my list of emails and I feel so blessed to be connected with you. You have invested some time and energy into my life, in both small and big ways, in the past and in the present. I value you all dearly. WARNING: This post includes much updates!!! I was pleasantly surprised how busy the past nine weeks have been here in Papua New Guinea. A cup of coffee or tea is highly recommended to read this with! ☕️😊 Foundation of IT

I've had the privilege to teach the foundation of computer and IT to 85 students in 7 classes, where each class has 4 to 25 students. They come from all walks of life - primary to college students, school teachers, pastors, mothers, government employees, unemployed, etc. For most of the classes, we used the equipment we brought from Hawaii - Rasperry Pi's and other hardware. One class broke my heart as 4 out of 5 could sorta read but could not write at all. So I customized the class where I can teach them how to use the computer, but at the same time teach them how to read and write as well. Illiteracy is a major problem especially in places far from the school establishments.

As development and technology are just slowly entering this nation, computer classes are very rare and very expensive. A group of students expressed how much these classes mean to them. Some have never thought they could ever touch a computer in their lifetime. Some have been praying to one day have an opportunity to learn how to use a computer. Some have been saving up to one day afford to enroll to a computer class. My eyes got watery fast. It must be sheer ignorance that one can easily assume that in this day and age, everyone should have seen/used a computer. I may be teaching technology in this nation, but this nation is teaching reality and humanity in me. The Bible Translated

For hundreds of years, the people of Papua New Guinea worshiped random things as gods such as a big tree or even a child. Demonic rituals, cannibalism, and witchcraft & sorcery practices ensued. However, a revival in the past couple of decades occurred. And so today, there is an openness and eagerness to know God.

Of the 7,000+ languages in the world, 850+ languages are from this country. Astounding fact! Most people we meet are trilingual - they speak their village language, Pidgin ("broken English" taught by Germans), and English (taught by English and Australians).

As part of the "End The Bible Poverty" project, our team brought tech-based tools to share The Gospel. First is a solar-powered projector to show a movie called "Jesus Film" in the evenings. It is a 2-hour movie on the life, death and resurrection of Christ dubbed in different languages. We play the movie version according to the tribal language of the village/town/city we're in. Second are 50sh mini SD cards with audio bibles that are again translated in various languages. Some people own basic cellphones which have SD card slots. Village Living

They say you have not experienced Papua New Guinea if you have not lived in the villages. And so we did, in four to be exact. One village usually represents one clan - an extended family with 100 to 1,000 members. I envy the simplicity of their lives. Organic produce from their gardens, small straw huts as homes, barely any furniture or belongings, vast lands and forests as children's playgrounds, creeks/rivers for water needs... and unlimited coconuts! Yaasss, coconut is life. However, due to their remote locations, the trade-offs are no immediate access to medical clinics or hospitals, no power lines, no running water, and no to little cellphone coverage. Oh and no bridges, so had to cross strong rivers bare feet! This is exciting anddd terrifying, but grateful to locals who guided us in every step... literally, with our arms locked with theirs, in every step.

Medicine is a big need in the villages. When people found out I had a first-aid kit and some medicine, there was a line up from wounds to chronic pains. One thing I was not equipped for though was when I was bitten by a poisonous centipede. Overnight, the venom moved from my thumb to the rest of my arm. It was such an excruciating pain I've never felt before! Lesson learned: bring a bigger first-aid kit and more pain killers.

Radically generous. This is simply how I would describe the people in the villages. They hosted us in their homes, served us their best meals, showered us with gifts (I got a dozen handmade bags, a handful of dresses, etc), and loved and encouraged us much! A man named Moses un-reluctantly explained it as "You are in our village. What is ours is yours." I came to serve and to give, but I was greatly moved and felt that I was served more and had received more. My hope and prayer is to grow such a heart of uncalculated, unjustified, radical generosity.

Market Open Air

I had no idea what "open air" really meant until I had a microphone in one hand... in the middle of a very busy market... with close to three-hundred people surrounding me. Open air, indeed. After our team dramatized the good ol' Everything skit by Lifehouse, I shared a word on faith and love in action. They were all ears, vendors and shoppers, men and women, young and old. They listened to understand, not to condemn or ridicule. They listened to understand, and so they understood. Lots raised their hands to be prayed for after. Moments like these make this journey all worth it. Hospital Visit

Out of the eight members of our team from Hawaii, two got malaria. I'm the only who chose to take anti-malaria pills from day one. Though I have less chance of getting malaria, I can still get it but with the meds masking the symptoms. That said, I was advised to get tested when I'm back home and off the meds.

Malaria, a big threatening word for us in the western world; but it's so common here that it'd be hard to find a local who has not had it. The hospital was full of malaria patients. We approached every patient's bed and offered our prayers. Everyone said yes without any hesitation. One I cannot get my mind off of was a one-month old girl suffering from malaria and asthma. I wouldn't even try describing her condition. It was heartbreaking. Corporation Visit

A national secular company with 1,000 employees provides an optional time and space to meet weekly to discuss the bible. I had the opportunity to speak in their meeting. I focused on the topic of discovering your purpose on earth. "It's not about you." was my introduction to faith a few years ago. The best selling book by Rick Warren, Purpose Driven Life, was a game changer. The talk was well-received and so we were asked to speak at a college as well. But alas, our schedule was already packed. Prison Visit

I don't fear many things, but I'd say that my biggest fear in life was to go to prison. The 24 hours leading to our visit to a jail with 800 prisoners was full of reflection and anxiety. The day came and we were stripped off our cellphones, purses, jewelries, pens, and hats upon entering the facilities. Before I could say my first word, I was all tears. It dawned on me why I had this fear. And so I fessed up to a room of female prisoners dressed in blue uniform, all with the same buzz hair cut, and whose eyes glistened in wonder.

Prison represents falling short of perfection. I am imperfect, we all are imperfect. Prison represents brokenness. I am broken, we all are broken. Prison represents guilt. I am guilty, we all are guilty. Perhaps not of murder, but of lies, white or whatever colour we name them to be. But when I realized these subconscious notions of what a prison represents was just half the picture, I was finally reminded to fear not.

I've had the honour to share a word in various public settings about ten times, one even up to four hours (I literally lost my voice towards the end of it!) But this fifteen-minute talk in prison was my most heartfelt. So what can I share to a group of prisoners?

Hope. Hope that these momentary prisons we all are in, physically or metaphorically, do not define us. Death is inevitable and no amount of good works can secure us a place in heaven - not even by abiding by the law as good citizens, and not even by me serving here in PNG. The full picture is that God is not asking us for the unattainable perfection, but His unconditional love offers us to live a life in relationship with Him as our Father. Such bond is what takes us through the journey of renewing our minds and hearts. Our identity and destiny are rooted in our choice to answer God's call to be his sons and daughters. It is a choice, the gift of free will.

I tightly hugged as many of them as I can before we left. It was a bittersweet day. Business Consultation

For those of you who know me well know that if there is a need, I'll try to meet it. But if there is a need and it meets my skillset and peaks my interest, I'll relentlessly pursue it with much passion and energy. This gets me in trouble sometimes. Let's just say the following are beyond our team's initial definition of mission...

A local business was started by a YWAM leader to provide employment to women in the villages. A couple of years into it, it is now ready to grow and expand its production to continuously support its cause. I provided consultation on product packaging, marketing and branding, social media presence, online sales, etc. And camera gear to the rescue! I captured and produced a video to capitalize on online crowdfund sourcing. Stay tuned for when we launch it on Indiegogo site.

A YWAM school campus in a village is in need to replace its temporary building as it cannot withstand the strong winds and heavy rain. It is made out of tree logs as posts, tarps and cloths as walls, and without floors. First, I wrote their captivating story in a script, flew the drone over the property, recorded some dramatized scenes, recorded an interview of the school leaders... and voila! An awareness and fundraising video was captured and produced to be launched on GoFundMe site. Overcoming Challenges

It's easy to list down the discomfort and inconveniences as the so-called challenges of this trip, but they were not. Not the sharing of a small bedroom with twelve ladies, nor the sharing of a bathroom with twenty people. Not the two-hour hikes in the rain walking in bare feet with our big backpacks on to move from one village to another. Not the numerous mosquito bites, ant bites, and poisonous centipede bite. And not even the outhouses. I learned a few years back that the best way to get to know someone is not by working with them, not by living with them... but by traveling with them. You get to see that 10% only traveling can unveil. In the same manner, you also get to know yourself much better. Both your strengths and weaknesses are heightened. How do I survive being the only minority in a school program where all students and 90% of its staff all come from one deeply rooted, strong culture? Moreover, how do I survive a trip with a team of six students and a leader who all come from one deeply rooted, strong culture? I learned to choose my battles wisely. I stand up for finishing the video productions. I stand up for donating all the surplus from our budget. But for the most part, I fight through prayers. First, thanking God for these tests are growing in me a faithful heart. Secondly, surrendering to him our inadequacies for this load was not mine to carry to begin with. And lastly, asking for a refreshed joy. This helped channel my energy to get to know the locals more and therefore work on other projects on top of my main responsibilities. Grateful that though from day one in Hawaii was the most challenging time I've ever experienced culturally and socially, it made for the greatest time to grow spiritually and emotionally. If I can turn back time, will I change anything? No. If I can do it all over again, will I? Absolutely not hahah. Along the way, I did develop some lifelong friendships. I also learned to embrace my strengths and to face my weaknesses. There truly is a reason for every season and that each one is a preparation for the next. I've many takeaways and learning from this one. This was the vessel that introduced me to PNG. And for that, I genuinely only have a thankful heart for such a time as this. What's Next? I had peace with my direction from A to B, from quitting my job to pursuing missions school. But from B to C, I had to think and pray through six different routes. I hasten to say, it's not irresponsibility that I quit a career without a solidified and well-defined one, two, or five-year A to Z life plan. I just needed and wanted to calculate for some room for God to reveal to me his plans that I know are greater than mine ever will be. Because with or without faith as a factor, life do not fully materialize anyway according to meticulous time planning and goal setting. Yes I do have big dreams, but I've experienced that God-sized dreams are much much better!

It's a persistent prayer and pursuit to see certain doors close and certain doors open. This is how I find confidence in pursuing my B to C. And yes, sometimes certain doors are left ajar for the time-being. It's been a process of hearing, obeying, and trusting God.

Business with a mission, otherwise known as a social enterprise, is where my heart has grown to focus on. I am an advocate for alleviating physical and spiritual poverty through sustainable mission. How fitting it is then to marry business with mission - to build a business whose mission is beyond profits, but to maximize its human and socioeconomic impact.

Papua New Guinea peeled my eyes open to see a land of opportunities to pursue that passion. My vision is to see God’s transformation of this nation by using business as a tool to sustain the education, employment, and empowerment of the people through the use of natural resources and technology. I have three business prospects. One of which I do not have any experience or background on, but one that has the most doors opening for the greatest potential and connections! How do I distinguish my big dream from God-sized dream? The latter is usually beyond my immediate comprehension and capacity. It requires me to grow my faith and to lean in to wise counsel. I believe this particular business prospect is exactly that. I cannot end a post without sharing some media of sort. This 200 GB worth of media I captured must be utilized somehow. So here is a minute video of my ever so wonderful and blessed time in Papua New Guinea - https://vimeo.com/205994204. How do I look in a purple mary blouse dress?? Hahah only in PNG! I have grown to appreciate the modesty in their clothing. Thank you for your support, prayers, and interest in my journey. Please let me know if you'd like to stay posted as I explore my B to C.

Much Love, Janice [original email sent on 03/02/17]

#ywam #uofn #kona #hawaii #png #papua new guinea #mission

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