#i just want them to leave my food on my doorstep and let me sustain myself in peace

[sprout-senior]

literally going super psycho mega evil rn MY GROCERIES WERE SUPPOSED TO GET HERE FOUR HOURS AGO AND NOW THEYRE TELLING ME I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER TWO

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

What is this 3 chapter in the space of a few days I haven’t done that in a while

Chapter 27

Word count :3169

Mentions: em thinking about it the mentions for this one would have to be , mention of drugs and addiction , coming out , inclination of suicidal tendencies and inclination to smut

Also a Cliff hanger

3 days later.....

Mattys POV

I stayed at Ross' for the weekend, so he could keep an eye on me, he said that's not what he was doing but I couldn't help but notice the side glances every-time I got a little jumpy or how he'd freak out if I was out of his eye sight for longer than five minutes. Despite being under close watch I enjoyed being here. I feel like I've eaten enough food to sustain me for like the next two years. Slept a lot and just basically chilled out. Ross hadn’t let me have a joint just incase and I'm totally itching for one at this point, Ross met George, we've all stayed up playing FIFA and GTA , Ross thinks he's quite great to be honest. I haven't really had time alone with George to speak to him alone to tell him what happened but I will when I go home. Ross' mum said that she'd told Denise some of what had happened over the last few days but I spoke with her and told her that I'd tell my mum myself about all of it. Which is we're we start I'm waiting for my mum to come and pick me up because as much as I love being here , Ross needs to actually get some sleep as we've got last week of school to finish then we're on Study leave and he's been awake the whole weekend keeping an eye on me. I'm sat with Ross in his doorstep just having a cigarette waiting for my mum to pull up.

"I'm shitting it Ross, how's she going to react?" , the smoke of the cigarettes is floating around us making Ross look like a damn god sent to save me.

"I think it's your dad you have to worry about mate , you're your dads boy" , that sends a small shiver down my back because he's right, I hate upsetting my dad. My dads my best friend honestly and I hate letting him down.

"Don't...I can't tell him"

"It'll be okay man trust me they love you and they'll help you so much you know that", We both spot my mum coming down the road, we drop our cigarettes on the floor and stamp on them as we stand up and Ross tackles me into a hug "I love you bro, don't think about it to much okay , just be honest they'll understand"

I hug him back tightly and whisper into her ear "love you too man" , I say goodbye again and then jump into my Mums car as she waves to Ross and drives away, I start to feel immediately anxious as I get comfortable in the seat and strap myself in "hiya ma"

"Hiya love , did you have a good time?"

"Yup", I can already sense it's going to be an awkward conversation to have, I know Ross' mum told my Mum that I'd need to talk to her.

"Sooo , what's going on with you then love , Lisa said you'd need to talk"

"Mhm", my hand flies straight to my hair wracking my hand through it like always when I'm nervous, trying to find the right words to help me through this. "Where do you want me to start"

The car ride back from Ross' really didn't take much time since he's just down the road so we're already at ours sitting in the drive way, My mums looking at me but I can't really tell how she's feeling so in turn I can't really gauge what she's going to say which makes me kind of uneasy "maybe first off, how did you end up at Ross' and not back home like you said"

She didn't ask like she was annoyed but I still feel bad for not coming home like I said I would. "I really did plan on coming home , but then I just figured I needed Ross, he would be my best port of call in the moment"

"I thought you were just going on a walk to clear your head Matthew" , I really don't want to tell her everything is going to go to shit and I'm scared but maybe just , maybe, it'll make everything better if I do. But my hands are twitchy again and I'm nervous. Ross telling me "to just be honest" is running through my head on repeat.

"I need to be honest here, eh...I did go for a walk ...but um...it was for unlterior motives" , I take a moment to breath through and get myself together so I don't cry AGAIN , Jesus so much crying "I ....I...I went to get um ...went to get high"

"You smoke all the time Matthew , why did you have to leave for that , we know about that"

"Not that mum, I wish it was just that....but it wasn't just smokes, I think I have a drug problem" , I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes teetering on the edge of falling onto my face but I blink a few times to stop them. " I uh , I'm scared Mum , it's like I'm stood at the edge of a cliff and there's nothing there pulling me back to sanity until someone gives me something, I know it's bad but I'll take anything anyone gives me. It keeps me sane for a while until it dies and I slowly just feel the edge calling me back and i can't run from my thoughts and I'm not the person I want to be again, I swear I didn't mean for it to get this bad but it's just destroying me....." before I can finish my rant my mum is pulling me into a tight hug mumbling into my shoulder that's "she's going to get me help" and "that she wished she'd known sooner" and "that she's sorry" , the tears that I was holding start falling and I can't stop them and I hug her back. "You don't have to be sorry Mum , you did nothing wrong, Im scared and everything just sucks"

"Matthew love why didn't you tell anyone before , how do you feel , like really feel before you feel like you need to use again, try to be as honest as you can because this is very important and very serious"

"I can't tell you that Mum , I don't want to upset you" , I pull her closer to me to let her know that I'm not going anywhere and that I love her but I can't be that honest just yet.

"I'll never be angry at you love , you know that no matter what you tell me"

"I can't Mum , I wish I could but I can't, I just need help to feel better , feel sane, I don't wanna become that friend of a friend that people once knew you knew" , we were both just sobbing messes in the car but I really needed to tell her what happened last night so I can at least be prepared enough to tell George "but uh last night , I went out and got some stuff from a guy I know , we smoked and drank a little and we had some other stuff, but I think I took to much or something I'm not sure but...I had like a bad reaction to it I think....everything hurt and I had a really bad panic attack and I called Ross so I wasn't alone....I thought my brain was going to explode...I was so scared"

"Why didn’t you call me or your dad?"

"I thought you'd be angry at me and I couldn't deal with that in the moment , Ross helped and looked after me, I would have came home the next day but he really wanted to keep an eye on me"

"We'll I'll be keeping a closer eye on your from now on and I think, don't take this as me being angry at you but I will be grounding you but while we're home I would very much appreciate it if you talk to me more and tell me exactly what's going on in that overactive brain of yours alright"

"Yes Mum, I need to go lie down though my heads killing me still, We might need to get that seen to because I've had a headache for like a week now and it's not subsiding"

"We can get it checked for now just go in get some water and watch something on the TV, does that sound okay?" , we both get out of the car as my mum goes to the living room to set up the tv, I make my way to the kitchen to get a glass of water and at this I finally text George from my phone rather than through Ross or while playing games

Matty: hiya darlin , I know we've spoken a lot through Ross this weekend and I'm so sorry about that but I'm home now , I miss you loads though

Then make my way back down to sit on the sofa next to my mum "what we watching"

"Whatever you'd like love"

"Uh lord of the rings maybe" ,  I'm a massive nerd, I would never tell someone that I like this film on purpose but it really does bring me comfort.

"Alrighty", she sticks it on and we snuggle up to each other , as we're watching I feel like right now might be a good time to give my mum some good news about me rather than all the mess she's had to deal with over the past few days so I might just tell her about George

"Hey mum , can I tell you something, it's good don't worry" , she pulls me closer to her and we cuddle up on the sofa and I can feel her slightly nodding against my head. "I'm talking to someone, and there so lovely , they make me feel good and calm me down, and there so gorgeous, I also know that I shouldn't be with someone just cuz they make me feel good but I think I really like them and I'm really interested in them", I pause for a moment because I know my mum and I can sense when she's going to say something.

"Any reason we are avoiding name or pronouns ??" , I know she won't mind that hes a male because my grandad is a drag queen and all my family are very close with LGBT People. "Do they happen to be a boy by any chance love ?"

"They might be ", saying it out loud makes me smile and the hairs on my neck stand up and it gives me goosebumps. "Actually yes, he's a boy and his names George and I really really like him, he's so

handsome"

"I've never heard of a George before, what does he look like love ?", I pull out my phone as I search through my phone to find the picture I got of him while we were on call and when I find it I give her my phone to look. "He is very handsome love? , does he go to your school"

I shake my head a little "nah he lives in London , I met him on my game, and he's really helping me through some stuff , please don't go all mum on me though, I get your concern about meeting people online but I really trust him okay ?"

"That's okay love it's okay, if you trust him , I trust your decision, how old is he"

"He's 16, he's in year ten , so I'd assume he's nearly 17 but I'm not sure but that's okay right , I'm not 18 myself yet but it should be alright , right ?"

"It's alright my love, more than alright , he should come visit in the summer if you'd like ?" , this made me sit up right and look directly at my mum , my mouth slightly agape.

"Really?, would that be okay?"

"If you'd like that then of course he can"

"Oh my god thank you so much Mum , your the best" , I pull her into another tight hug and then we both get caught up in the film.

It was around 3 o'clock when the first film had finished, my mum got up and asked if I wanted anything to eat , I wasn't the hungry as I said earlier I feel like I'd eaten enough at Ross' that could last a century but I have to try so I asked for some soup while my mum was preparing lunch I pulled my phone out again

George: Hi love , it's okay you don't have to worry , Ross is a sound lad and he's your friend I'm glad he looks out for you , I miss you so damn much, how are you doing today though xx

Matty: I'm not doing too bad I think , Mums making lunch also you'll never guess what xx

George : that's amazing we'll done

George : what love ???

Matty: I told Mum about you and she said you can visit in the summer if you'd like? Would you like that?

George: omg no way , of course I'd love that.

I then got a Snapchat message through it's a picture of George and by Christ was I not ready for it, he's fresh out of the shower , just a picture of him in underwear water drops still adorning his chest and shoulder , he's so fit omg. I send him a text back

Matty : I'm going to be sat with my mum all day you can't be sending me that right now 🥵

George : whoops sorry 😉 , can't say you didn't like it though ay

Matty: you know I did, you know I like it when you get all flirty like that 😉

George: you gunna make me stop?

With that my mum enters the room and stops at the door slightly chuckling at me "what?"

"Is that him by any chance"

"How could you tell?"

"You face is the colour of a cherry and your nearly splitting your face in half with that smile"

"Oh , yeh that's him" , I chuckle a bit and turn my phone faced down on the sofa as she hands me the bowl full of chicken soup and I tuck in as we get the next film set up, just an afternoon of lord of the rings  and good company that's all I need.

"So, I was thinking I’ll book an appointment for Dr Adrian tomorrow and we can tell him about EVERYTHING and then we can see what he says yeh ?”

“So long as I don’t have to go to some stupid like , I don’t know rehab then yeh we can do that”

“He’ll just give us some advice on how to help you stop and we can get some general advice on how to help you , in anything not just the drugs my love and we can see where to go from there”

“Okay , can I go to my room after this is finished , I’m okay right now I promise, I just have to get some studying done”

“After this I’m sure that’ll be fine”

3 hours later the film was done the soup was discarded, I’d eaten most of it but it got cold so I couldn’t finish it , I’d gone to the bathroom as well and now I’m upstairs in my room looking over my history work while messaging George

Matty: nope I’d never ask you too stop that would just be crazy

George: that’s my boy, did you like what you saw then??

Matty: I very much did yes

George: what exactly did you like about it huh?

Flirty George was new for me and I found my self really liking it and it made me adjust myself in my seat because I suddenly felt really warm

Matty: I don’t know specifically, your just fit int’ ya

George: fit am I! , says you , what would you do if I was there right now

Matty : what’s gotten into you and what have you done with baby George 😂😂

Matty : also I don’t think you’d wanna know what I’d do

I got up from my seat and closed my door over making sure it was properly closed and flop down on my bed because I can feel this conversation taking a very sudden turn

George : Oh I would love to know , I really would, that’s why I asked

Matty: we’ll I guess you’ll never know cuz I ain’t saying.

The minute I see that George has seen the message the caller icon appears on my screen and he’s calling me so I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear, smiling.

“Nah man you can’t leave me like that” , he sounds a little flustered but I can tell he’s happy. Even at the sound of his voice I am immediately happy too.

“Hello to you too”

“Hi , but no seriously I wanna know what you’d do”, he chuckling a little on his end and it makes my heart melt

“Like the serious answer or the jokey one”

“Serious if your willing”

“We’ll first thing I’d do if you where here right at this minute is probably cry because you know what I’m like”, we both laugh at that because it’s honestly quite funny. “And then I’d kiss you, and I’d then ask you if it was to take your shirt off cuz I just have to see the body of yours and I’d then probably spend like ten minutes just admitting you , leaving marks on you so everyone knows your mine and yeh”

“Wow !, I’d very much into that, uh , what are you doing right now?”

“Why ?, is someone a little occupied ?”

“I just wanna …try something new…if it’s okay with you of course …I don’t wanna feel like a perv”

“Yeh?, what is it you’d like to try darlin”, I could just about tell where this was going and you know what I was so ready for it, I really wanted to do it, it might be a little weird for both of us but I’m nothing but eager.

“Uh…have you ever …ever uh…had phone sex or like done anything…while on the phone?”

“I can’t say I have no but there’s a first for everything”

“Would you like too….with me I mean?”

“Yes , I jolly well think I would”

“Jolly well , what are you 80?” , we both start laughing again because honestly sometimes with the words I use and people at school not understanding sometimes I feel like I am 80.

“Sorry go ahead, take it away?”

“Okay , are you lying down”, with that I lay down properly on my bed making sure I’m comfy and ready to start this .

“Yes I am , are you ?”, I can hear some rustling from his end but after a couple of seconds he then tells me that he is in fact also lying down .

SORRY CLIFF HANGER IM GOING TO PUT THE SMUT IN THE NEXT ONE !!!!!!

[han-shinsuke]

ɢᴇᴛᴏ sᴜɢᴜʀᴜ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that.

🔞🌹 “does it hurt?” his tune was different compared to the normal tone he uses in class. There was a faint smell of concern in it and for a second, you wanted to believe that he cares for you for having his thing installed balls deep into you. The sheet is wet and so the pillow case where you had been muffling your moans and tears. You cried out the pain, digging your nails against your own flesh since your hands were tied behind your back while he was there, above your bareback, big hands gripping tightly on your waist as he makes sure you’d be filled with his arousal. One more long and strong push of his hips, you found yourself trembling from pain and an ounce of pleasure from his final assault. Geto withdrawn his shaft from your swollen anusx and he carefully rolled you on your back, checking your condition. “Does it hurt?” as if to make fun of your struggles, he asks again, swiping his thumb against your swollen lips. This may sounds funny but you couldn’t help but asked yourself if there were any part of you that hadn’t been touched and sucked by him. Probably, there’s none. Because Geto Suguru never missed. Putting your state in consideration, he feels obliged to answer his own inquiry, “of course, it hurts. I was your first, ms. front row.” You stared at his face, drained and in pain. If only you could wipe his smirk off his handsome face, you would. Sadly, you can’t. You need to stabilize your breathing and regain some energy in order to leave his estate. Though it feels impossible but you must. “G–get off me.” You gave him an undisturbed look, thinking of some effective ways to get to the bus station to not miss its last trip. Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that. “Here’s the money,” again, the guilt was eating you up. Geto hands you the amount you both agreed on. You were no different from those department harlots who jumped on men like Suguru. “I’ll shower first, just wait here.” You got no time to waste so when he enters the bathroom, you put on your crumpled uniform, left his huge bedroom, painfully went through wide hallways and numerous staircases. As you stared back at the tall and automated gate, another slap from reality had hit you hard. Suguru Geto is reality miles away from the mud you’re in. You have reached the station on time. Luckily, the last bus hasn’t arrived yet so you took the chance to sleep in the shed. Fuck life. It will take a dozen of painkiller to calm your wrecked flesh and disturbed nerves, you thought. 🌹 “Your balance has been settled, Ms. Y/N.” The registrar shows you the updated payment of your account and you were not happy or pleased by it. You had someone in mind and just the thought of it, you can feel the anger and insult building inside of you. As usual, he’s there, surrounded by his kind. Women lurking around him as if they are there like an options for Geto to pick who knows who. He raises an arm, waving at you. You answered by nodding your head. Your knuckles turned white as he flashes you an innocent grin. The chair on the front row creates a screeching noise as you sat on it. You were so mad right now. Maybe throwing a shoe to his direction can lessen the fuming anger in you but you’re not that kind of person. You settled things privately. Just wait, Geto. You fucking wait and I’ll burn you alive. “Happy Birthday,” a hand put a protein bar and a can of chilled coffee on your desk. There’s no need to look at the giver. The bite mark on his wrist is enough to identify him. You were the one who put it on him last night. Your gaze follows Geto’s back as he returns to the back row. The place where strength and power lies. At twenty, you sold your dignity to

Geto Suguru. Now that you turned twenty one, you have promised that would be the first and last time you’ll use your innocence to overcome a problem. 🌹 “You’ve paid me well, Suguru, but I don’t accept tip for my service.” He didn’t speak. He must be in a state of shock after receiving a slap from you. After the exam, you confronted him and lashed out your anger from his doings. “I’m returning the money you had given last night. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You said in a very sarcastic tone. 🌹🔞 Suguru Geto is an heir. Unlike the other, he has no records of bad memories or any sad untold stories. The life his parents had given him was very ideal and perfect. He has friends and loved by many. And from those infos, you have come up with a thought that maybe, due to the perfectly laid out plan of his life, Suguru is trying to create a fault in his flawless existence. A fault that made you so eager to avoid him, that no matter where you tried to look at it, you’re a trial for him. Would he mind if you’ll be found in front of his doorstep, soaking and looks like a real shit? Well, that’s what he was looking for! A shit to jump in! “Geto!” he looks beautiful when he opened the door for you. The spotless white shirt he was wearing is now covered with dirt. Suguru returns your action, hugging you close against his body. “What happened?” his question after closing the door. Instead of answering, you just tightened the embrace around him and bit your lips to suppress your cry. “No–nothing... I’m sorry for barging in so late at night.” You tried to sound convincing and smiled. Your hand reached for the knob but Geto pulls you back, cupping your face between his warm hands. That’s the moment you gave in, face contorting as you cried helplessly while gripping his shirt. That’s all you need. Someone who can ask with sympathy. Someone who cares. For now, Suguru seems to care for you that’s why you let yourself cried in front of him. That moment, he looks and he feels like someone you can rely on with all the shits happening around you. You told him everything in details, not missing a part of it. You slept with him in exchange of some bucks. Gave your innocence with the man you thought who deserves it and that was him, Suguru Geto. Rather than selling it with your obsessed landlord, who also threatened to kill you if you refuse to bed him, you ran for your life, escaping the hell hole you have been in. You just wanted to graduate in college, make it until graduation but life have forced you to your limit. “I would rather die than to sleep with a psycho,” you confessed to him. You needed money and without those shit, you will not make it. You were so desperate to live. So desperate for a safe environment. You couldn’t even call your parents and tell them about your misfortunes for they are as well struggling to live, to sustain their needs. “You can stay here,” suddenly he suggested. “For free. No hidden charges.” He jokes. “I will be useful.” You ensures him. “You’re already are.” Geto smiles, tucking your hair behind your right ear. 🌹🔞⚠️ Whe he says, no hidden charges, there were really not. Guess, he doesn’t like the idea of tasting the same food he had before. You have been living with him for almost a month now but he’s not making a move to you. He lends you a spacious room and that made you felt lonely and cold. There was a time when Suguru brought a woman from the engineering department and you happened to witness their make out session in the kitchen one night. You were so embarrassed then apologized to them. As of the moment, you’re in the barn house, feeding his two pet horses while wearing the dress that Geto bought for you. “Y/N–” he swallows his words upon seeing you leaning forward in one of the stables, reaching the harness to check it. Suguru grits his teeth, seeing your thighs and curves are too much for him. Suddenly, he regretted purchasing the cerulean dress that fits perfectly on you. Your throat felt dry. You were familiar with the heat oozing from his

gaze. You’ve seen that during your first time with him. He walks to you, grabbing your hand, dragging you to the second level of the barn where you were slammed against the wooden wall. You cried in pain but immediately silenced by rough and hungry kisses of Suguru. At first, you couldn’t find the will to kiss him back but by just a lick on your bottom lip, you found yourself opening up for him, tilting your head to the side to give him easy access to your mouth. “Geto... ” his name slipped from your lips, pushing your own tongue into his, determined to play with his expert ones. He hummed between the kiss, supporting your chin through his forefinger. Suguru is really tall that you had to tiptoe to reach his mouth and kiss him back with same intensity. You gathered up enough courage and Suguru, himself, didn’t saw it coming. You caught him by surprised, pulling him down to you to suck on his bottom lip and lick it afterwards. “Fuck, babe.” He breathes when you released his mouth. Time for another surprise, you guided him to the nearest storage box and motioned to sit. You stopped him in the middle because you had to remove his pants and boxers. As soon as he settled, naked, Suguru holds your hair for you when you started sucking his thing. His moans and heavy breaths filled the space and your wet sucking sounds rings louder as he guides your face up and down to his erection covered in your saliva. You raised a hand when his grip tightened on your hair, almost like crashing your mouth with his hard and thick head that had been knocking your pipe pretty hard every time he goes balls deep in your mouth. You coughed helplessly as he frees you, gagging from the overwhelming thickness of his manhood. Geto cups your face and stares at you with malice before kissing you torridly, so eager to drown you with his lips and tongue that you accepted wholeheartedly. “Can I fuck you against the wall and tie you up as well?” a part of you shivered but you didn’t say ‘no’. He takes that as a ‘yes’ so you watched yourself slowly levitating from being tied up and held possessively by Suguru’s strong arms. You gasped for air when he enters your pretty tight hole in one swift push and managed to knock against your womb. “You’re so big, Geto aah!” your head fell back, the feeling of his throbbing manhood inside you is suffocating. You gasped again, sweats rolling down your neck as you let yourself adjust from his size. Geto licks your collarbone, nipping his lips against your skin up to your neck where he gets a taste of your tears and sweats, “really? You think I’m big? I feel honoured, babe.” He sucks the hollow on your neck and pulls slowly. Your eyes widened, feeling how a simple movement can stretch your rim wide open. “Aahhnnggg~ Ge–Getooo... ” You tugged your arms against the shackles, another pain inflicted upon you. And then there’s another pain, and it was a long one. He pushes fast, stretching you inside by installing deep inside of you, causing your hips to tremble when he smacks your ass and gropes you hard. As you can noticed, Suguru was being careful not to ruin the dress, the straps were rolled down just below your shoulder and he perfectly exposes your breasts, nipplesx really hard and red. For the second time in a row, your head fell back when he dips down your chest, sucking in a nipplesx while swirling his tongue around it. Geto. Geto. You went crazy and delirious. He’s attending your needy titsx with his thirsty mouth, biting the skin around it then going back to sucking the two buds alternately like a child. When he’s done showering your bosoms with attention, Suguru goes back to pushing further inside you, pulling his shaft roughly and then again, he never gets tired rutting you with his thing, slamming your hips against his hips. He was using different paces in stretching you wide so when he feels your breathing returning to normal, he would suddenly thrust his rod in and out of you roughly, making you gasp for air. “My arms feels numb, Geto ooohhh god!” you cried again, bursting into tears

when you felt him grinding his hips against yours while unloading his jizz. He stops moving for awhile but his loads are still oozing from his tip. “Okay, babe aahh~ hold tight.” Geto says, removing the shackles then locking your arms around his neck. Just when you thought it’s over, he lays you on the dust covered floor, folds you in half, hips ramming deep as he continues spilling his seeds into your cunt. He shoots you, with his long strings of arousal, fucked hard in a breathless mating press position. You’re just a dust in Suguru Geto’s universe. 🌹 Your surrounding turned pitch black with scattered stars in the night sky. You expected the moon to smile down at you but it was the greater creation who have his eyes on you. Universe taking his time looking at a particular dust. “where are we heading to?” you asked, blinking. He stops to carry you properly in his arms before answering, “home, Y/N.” Your eyes fell to the place you’ve been to. The door was left unlocked. “You forgot to lock the barn, Geto.” “They would not think of escaping, babe. They’re drawn to me and they are loyal to me.” You turned to the night sky once again, mesmerized by its beauty, you asked him a weird question, “since the door isn’t locked, then I’m free to go whenever I want to?” “Well, if it’s about you leaving my land, then expect some changes in the security. I can be selfish at times, Y/N.” “What do you meant by that, Geto?” “I just don’t think I’m capable of letting you go anymore.” ❤️

[besanii]

Hi! Am rereading your shattered mirrors verse and I love it so much. Are we going to get the scene in which WWX explains everything that’s happened to him (with the poison) etc to LWJ after they meet wen yuan?? I’m dying for the angst but also fluff and comfort 🥺🥺🥺

@lurkingscientist asked:

I can’t wait to hear about all the sad things wwx experienced!!! :D my “stabby stabby stab stab stab” is feeling slightly neglected

Shattered Mirrors #61

“I haven’t told you everything.”

In the thirteen years Wei Wuxian had been gone, Lan Wangji searched desperately for every scrap of information he could get his hands on, from every channel he could access, in hopes of finding him. Or finding out what had happened to him. What he could find was piecemeal at best and unreliable at worst, often conflicting depending on the source. The result was him, driven mad by desperation and grief, chasing ghosts in the shadows until he could no longer tell what was real.

Even now, with Wei Wuxian back at his side these last two years, happy and content and safe, he still does not have a clear picture of what had happened during the war. If he’s being honest, he’s afraid to ask, and even more afraid to know. He tells himself it’s enough just to have Wei Wuxian by his side again. He doesn’t need to know, if Wei Wuxian does not want to share.

So Wei Wuxian’s confession punches the air from his lungs and he feels in its wake, his hands trembling where they’re entwined. Wei Wuxian watches him with the same care one would give to a startled animal ready to flee.

“That is,” he amends hesitantly, “if you wish to know.”

Lan Wangji inhales, and exhales again, with a shudder. Squares his shoulders. Looks him in the eye.

“Yes,” he says. “I do.”

It is Wei Wuxian’s turn to take a deep breath, the tentative little smile on his lips giving way to steely resolve. On his other side, Wen Yuan kneels by the bed, wordlessly offering his unwavering support. Despite all this, it takes Wei Wuxian some time to find the right words to convey the enormity of what he is about to disclose.

“I don’t know where to begin,” he admits with a shaky laugh, looking down at their joined hands. “I suppose you already know how Yunmeng fell.”

Lan Wangji nods. He has heard scattered details, enough to know that there had been a traitor in their midst, someone who had fed false information through their intelligence network while Wei Wuxian had been in Gusu. They had managed to secure Yunping, but sustained heavy losses that severely weakened their defences. The traitor had been found, but by then the Qishan Wen army was already at their doorstep, ten thousand strong, and they had no way out.

“We evacuated as many civilians as we could. Jiang Cheng, Jiang-wang and Yu-wanghou stayed behind to defend the city,” he says. His eyes and voice are distant, lost in his memories. “I took Shijie and we escaped via the lakes, with the rest of the civilians. Our priority was to get to Yunping, and then to Lanling. Shijie was engaged to Jin Zixuan, so they would definitely come to our aid—or at the very least, they would keep her safe while I gathered reinforcements.

“They were there,” he continues, still in that far-off voice. “Wen Chao and his men. They had split their forces to ambush us while we were defenceless. Our boats were burned, our people drowned—we in Yunmeng are strong swimmers, but even the strongest swimmers cannot survive when arrows rain down from the sky.”

He shivers with his next breath, but his voice is steady.

“I entrusted Shijie to my lieutenant, instructed them to use one of the overturned boats to cover their escape, while I distracted Wen Chao.” He smiles, but it’s stark and without humour. “We’ve had…altercations in the past, so I knew I would be an adequate distraction. I held him off for as long as I could, kept his attention on me. But I was only one person, and he had an army.”

The reports that had come out of Yunmeng around that time—the ones Lan Xichen had allowed him to read while recovering from his punishment, at least—had painted a picture so bleak, so devastating that he had wept. The lakes of Yunmeng, once teeming with colour and life, stained red with blood over the course of one night; and Lotus Pier, its seat of power, that had once risen from the depths of the lakes like a mirage, burned to ash. He had been back to the ruins of Lotus Pier in the intervening years as it was slowly rebuilt after the war—Gusu had offered aid wherever possible, in both money and manpower, as well as political support for the Yu family of Meishan, the maiden family of Queen Yu Ziyuan, who had been installed as stewards in the absence of the ruling family—but the shadows of war still haunts its streets and darkens its waters even now.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes fall closed and his fingers tighten around Lan Wangji’s.

“There’s a stronghold in Yiling,” he says. “Some call it the Burial Mounds, or the Mass Grave. Beneath the fortress, there’s an extensive network of cells that run beneath the mountains. That’s where they keep their highest security prisoners, the ones who get…special treatment.”

There is no need to ask what ‘special’ means, so Lan Wangji stays silent. His blood, however, runs cold—as cold as Wei Wuxian’s voice as he continues his narrative, detached.

“Wen Chao had a special—” that word again, spoken with such venom that it curdles in Lan Wangji’s stomach and burns his throat, “cell prepared. More a cage, really. Every second shichen, it would be submerged in water up to the neck, and stay there for another shichen until it was raised again. In the interim, the prisoner would be left soaking wet in the cold, damp cell.”

The memory of Wei Wuxian at the water’s edge, the frantic terror on his face as he struggles to breathe despite not having come into contact with it, the frailty, the susceptibility to cold and illness—it is all starting to fall into place, one horrifying piece at a time. But Wei Wuxian is not finished.

“There were beatings, of course.” A sudden, fierce anger wraps around Lan Wangji’s heart at the matter-of-fact way in which he says it. “Wen Chao always did have a sadistic streak. He liked to hang people up by the arms and have them whipped, or burned, or flogged. Sometimes he’d leave them there for more than a day, weighed down at the ankles, blindfolded, while they tortured others around them.”

A hand extricates itself from Lan Wangji’s death grip and peels back the edge of a sleeve to reveal the scars along his arms. Dozens of them, some longer and thicker, others as thin and fine as thread, criss-cross along the pale flesh. As he traces quivering fingers along the skin, Lan Wangji feels each cut, each slice, on his heart. Then Wei Wuxian turns his hand over, revealing a large, pale scar on the inside of his wrist, and a matching on on the other, too precise to be self-inflicted. He inhales sharply in realisation.

“Your hands—” he chokes, eyes wide as he stares at the scars. “He didn’t—”

Wei Wuxian lets the sleeves fall back down to cover the scars.

“If you fight back,” he explains woodenly, “they cut the tendons in your wrists and ankles. They’ll send a doctor to look over your injuries, of course. There is no benefit, no value, in a dead prisoner of war. That’s how I met Wen Qing and her brother, Wen Ning.”

“My aunt and uncle,” Wen Yuan, who has been silent until now, explains. Lan Wangji had almost forgotten his presence. He smiles sadly. “They were taken by my great-uncle as hostages to ensure our branch of the family supported the war effort, and served as doctors on the front lines.”

Wei Wuxian’s lips curl into a smile—not the harsh, bitter ones from before, but softer, tinged with grief.

“They took care of me,” he says. “Wen Qing was the best doctor in all of Qishan. There was no illness she could not cure, no injury she could not fix. And Wen Ning…Wen Ning was the kindest person I have ever met. Too kind, too gentle for war. They did their best to help me—slipped me medicines and food whenever they could, diverted Wen Chao’s attentions away from me when it got too much.”

His voice wavers and breaks.

“They died trying to get me out,” he says hoarsely. “First Wen Ning, then Wen Qing. And I couldn’t—I couldn’t do anything to save them—”

Lan Wangji gathers him into his arms, crushes him against his chest as he cries out in anguish, his body wracked with sobs. His own eyes are hot, and he sees Wen Yuan’s are also bright with unshed tears when their gazes meet over Wei Wuxian’s head. They stay like this until he quietens, curled in Lan Wangji’s embrace, eyes hollow and wrung out. Lan Wangji is about to suggest that they continue this another day when Wei Wuxian rouses himself with a shaky breath, and continues.

“They killed Wen Ning in front of me,” he says. “And then they forced Wen Qing to take the same deadly poison they had been using to experiment with on us—”

“Qianji poison,” Lan Wangji says before he can stop himself. Both Wen Yuan and Wei Wuxian turn to him in shock. He lowers his eyes. “You fell ill after your performance at Caiyun Pavilion,” he tells Wei Wuxian. “I had a physician brought in to see you.”

He is careful to leave out Mo Xuanyu and Madam Zhang’s involvement, but Wei Wuxian is not fooled. But rather than get angry, as they had feared, he only shakes his head and laughs.

“I should have guessed,” he says. “They always liked to make a fuss.”

“They care about you,” Lan Wangji chides him gently. “And I am glad they told me, so I was better prepared to take care of you like I promised.”

This time when Wei Wuxian turns into the cradle of his arms, it is out of exhaustion, as if a great weight has been lifted from his chest, and his eyes drift closed as Lan Wangji strokes his hair with gentle motions. There is still more to the story, Lan Wangji knows—and there are questions burning in his mind. But he feels the sag of Wei Wuxian’s body against his, the heaviness of his breath, and cannot bring himself to press him further. They have time. After a moment of silence, when Lan Wangji thinks him asleep, he stirs.

“I’m tired,” he murmurs. “So tired.”

“You’ve done well, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji reminds him. “Get some rest.”

Wen Yuan excuses himself as Wei Wuxian hums and nestles deeper into his arms. Lan Wangji nods at him gratefully and watches him leave, keeping his movements quiet so as to not disturb Wei Wuxian’s rest.

“I think I’ll close my eyes for a while,” Wei Wuxian agrees, his words already starting to slur. “I just need…a little break.”

Lan Wangji presses a light kiss on his forehead.

“Take all the time you need,” he says. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

--

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--

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[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH4

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

<Previous Chapter     Next Chapter>

It took time to feel like he really belonged to the Joestar pack- not being related by blood or adoption like most of the others, but Kakyoin felt like he learned to navigate the dynamics fairly well. After being isolated for so long with just his father and human mother it seemed almost like fate when he met Jotaro at college. Both had chosen to attend Cornell to escape the bounds of family territory and struck up a fast friendship even though they were studying for different professions. Kakyoin’s gift for art and science led him to study architecture, while Jotaro seemed to select ecology and forest management on the basis that he would be guaranteed time away from people and in nature.

The years at school quickly passed and it became more unusual for Kakyoin to return to his father and mother’s house for breaks than accompany Jotaro back to NYC to be with the rest of his pack. He still made an effort to speak with his parents of course, and video calls made it much easier on all of them, but his father always had been a lone wolf. Not much room in his life for other people- including his wife and son. So, when Jotaro took up the responsibilities of pack alpha it wasn’t a hard choice for Kakyoin to follow as the beta.

Even after knowing Jotaro for 10 years, the man still manages to surprise him though. This time he’s almost overwhelmed because that’s another wolf he’s carrying through the forest. Kakyoin is stopped in his tracks, probably a good thing he’s stunned silent as Jotaro seems unusually agitated. What are they going to do? Obviously, she’s not the threat if Jotaro’s bringing her back to the cabin, but she’s another wolf in their territory. Are they going to let her pass through? Or invite her to stay, at least until the mystery of why she’s injured is cleared up? What is the rest of the pack going to do, do they…?

Kakyoin’s spiraling thoughts are cut off as he processes the order from his alpha. Right, he’ll clear the way, make it safe for the new packmate.

He runs into Mr. Joestar and Polnareff first in the clearing in front of the cabin and promptly sends them out in the opposite direction after explaining the circumstance. Avdol is swift in his search for the first aid kit, so Kakyoin goes on patrol around the perimeter again. No telling what other bizarre thing was going to happen this afternoon, it was best to be prepared.

It seems like forever but what was probably two hours at most he hears Avdol tell the others it was ok to go inside again, but to be respectful of their guest. Guest… his instincts may have been right earlier about the ‘new packmate’. Kakyoin finishes the last leg of his patrol before he too goes inside. Mr. Joestar has already made himself comfortable in the big arm chair in the lounge, Kakyoin can only see the top of the woman’s head from this angle, but the smell of her blood is still in the air almost making him nauseous. Polnareff is hovering in the doorway leading to the kitchen and dining room so he ushers him in to sit and leave the two alphas to discuss whatever business they had.

Avdol is rummaging through the fridge when Kakyoin makes his way into the kitchen, “Avdol?”

“Hmm? Ah, Kakyoin. You’re curious about our guest, yes? Help me prepare the meal while I tell you what I know.”

“Tell me how I can help.”

“Here, cut this into cubes while I gather the rest.” Avdol hands over the large selection of meat he’d retrieved from the fridge, “Unfortunately I don’t know much right now. Her name is (y/n). She sustained an injury to her leg. Multiple injuries actually. With silver birdshot.”

“Silver? Her attackers knew she was a wolf?”

“Wolf hunters are uncommon nowadays, but not unheard of. No. I’m more concerned that it was small pellets used. The hunters weren’t aiming to kill.”

Kakyoin nearly drops the knife he was holding over the cutting board, “Not aiming to kill? What kind of hunter doesn’t kill their prey?”

“The worst kind.”

The kitchen is silent while the two men work to prepare the food. Once the ingredients are all in the pot and simmering away Kakyoin retreats to his own room to contemplate the situation.

Without more information to go over he’s stuck in a loop. It’s a welcome interruption when Avdol calls him for dinner, hopefully they’ll get to the bottom of this quickly and lay it to rest.

Avdol must have been keeping his mind occupied with cooking, the table has an assortment of bread rolls and side dishes that were not even started when Kakyoin left the kitchen. He takes his seat at the large round table between an already seated Mr. Joestar and Polnareff. Avdol is placing the last dish on the table when they all flinch at the quiet whine of pain from the lounge area.

Jotaro and (y/n) make their way into the dining room and everyone seems to freeze for a moment. She hesitates but seems to pull herself to stand up straighter and lean less on Jotaro’s arm as they walk to the open seats. Another realization snaps into place in Kakyoin’s mind. This woman is not just another member of the pack, he’d bet his last dollar she’s another alpha.

“(Name), this is the pack. Everyone, this is (Name).” Jotaro does a poor job of introducing them, he seems to be more focused on loading up his plate and subtly offering the food to (y/n). They go around the table and introduce themselves properly and she seems to settle into her seat as everyone begins eating.

“I don’t mean to push you unnecessarily, but,” Kakyoin is interrupted by Polnareff.

“What the hell happened out there?”

Jotaro growls a bit at the line of questioning but Kakyoin persists, “I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but you see we…”

“Noriaki.”

Jotaro doesn’t have to say more, the command was evident in his tone. Stop questioning, now.

(y/n) doesn’t heed this warning though. Instead, she puts a hand on his arm as if to hold Jotaro back before she addresses the group. “You guys deserve to know the truth. I don’t blame you for wanting to know what happened in your territory.” She pauses and puts her hands in her lap, head bowed as if apologizing. “I’m sorry I brought the trouble to your doorstep, but the ones who shot me, they were a band of wolf hunters. That wasn’t even the first time I’ve run into these ones, but that was the closest they’ve ever gotten to…” (y/n) trails off as Jotaro growls a bit more. It’s unlike him to be so expressive, he must still be reeling from his shift.

“Anyway, they’ve been on my tail since the last town over. I thought I’d have an advantage if I got away from humans and could shift and take them on, but they ran me off the road when I wasn’t expecting it. So I ran. All I could think of is I should have listened to my parents, not strayed so far from family territory.” She shakes her head to clear it before continuing.

“It’s been getting bad for lone wolves for a while now. You hear rumors and think ‘oh that won’t happen to me’. I’m not even sure what gang, or cartel, or whatever these guys were working for. I doubt they were just ordinary religious zealots; I don’t think I would have gotten away if they were.” (y/n) looks down at her plate and picks around at her food as the pack takes in this information.

Kakyoin feels a cold chill move down his spine. It has been a long time since he’s been a lone wolf. But he remembers. How isolating it was, no support system, far away from home territory…

“I’m sorry for entering your territory without permission. But I want to thank you. For helping me,” she turns and looks at Jotaro, “for saving me.”

Jotaro has been entirely focused on (y/n) throughout dinner, this may be the first time he looks away from her as he lets out a gruff “Don’t mention it.”

Kakyoin wears a small smile on his face. Yeah, Jotaro is hooked already.

<Previous Chapter     Next Chapter>

I hope you are all ready for what’s coming- I finished my first draft outline for this story and its currently sitting at 52 chapters total. Expect a lot more action, monsters, supernatural things, new original characters! I’m still going to aim for at LEAST one chapter a week, but with the outline done it may be more if I have time :)

[thefanficmonster]

Hey Vy! 📚🌻 Here!

How is your week going? My roller skates just got here and I'm so happy omg! My protective gear haven't got here yet so I'm trying not to fall but a almost hit my face so many times- i have to stop for some time now because I need to clean my room :_: but here's your three words of this week: Paradise, curly, radio

A lot a lot looot of loveee,

📚🌻.

Hi darling 📚🌻 !

Please be extra careful until your protective gear arrives, I'd hate to hear you've injured yourself 🥺 Anyways, hope you have fun with your roller skates (always stay safe though)! 🥰

Here comes a short drabble with your three words! This one’s gonna be a little different though - no OCs and not for the Resident Evil fandom, but rather the How To Get Away With Murder fandom, more specifically - for my favorite relatioship/characters on the show! Hope you enjoy!

All my love, Vy 💌

Better

Laurel Castillo x Frank Delfino (How To Get Away With Murder - AU: Canon Divergence; AU where the characters tolerate each other XD)

Warnings: Slight spoilers (Nothing too major though), Swearing

Laurel runs a hand through Chris’ curly hair, admiring how peaceful he looks now that he’s finally asleep. He’s got a fever that’s been giving him crying fits for two days now. Having to deal with a sick two-year-old while simultaneously trying to keep up with work and her final studies has been exhausting to no end. She’s been receiving some help from Michaela who seems utterly desperate to keep herself busy at all times, even when she’s supposed to be relaxing just so her mind doesn’t spiral into the void of loneliness she’s fallen victim to as of recent. Connor and Ollie have babysat for her a few times as well, another gesture she’s incredibly grateful for. Asher has offered to look after the toddler too on numerous occasions but that’s one offer Laurel’s never taken up. She appreciates him offering her his help, but everyone would justify this action of hers considering how reckless Asher can be at times - aka 90% of the time.

The Keating 5 has come through for her when it comes to both looking after Chris and keeping up with her studies, proving their friendship to be  one of those rare ones. However, Keating 5 aside, she’s received the most amount of help from one particular person. Someone who’s prepared to turn up at her doorstep at three in the morning if she needs him.

Frank Delfino

The two had a rocky start, to say the least. Their on-again-off-again relationship as colleagues with benefits. Their constant back and fourth. Then came Frank’s disappearance and Laurel’s involvement with Wes, all occurrences blowing huge holes not only in their romantic relationship but also their friendship which has always been a second away from ceasing to exist, all things considered. Friendship is hard to maintain with such a strong, hypnotic and magnetic romantic connection. Some people just weren’t meant to be friends, ever. Frank and Laurel are among them.

Speaking of Frank, the man’s been rather concerned lately, the lack of calls and messages from Laurel worrying him more with each passing day. He overheard Michaela mention Chris’ fever in passing conversation with Asher when she was bailing on a date with the excuse of helping Laurel look after the sick toddler. He’d been surprised to hear that, initially thinking it was a cheap excuse of Michaela’s to avoid spending time with Asher considering things between them have grown sort of complicated. But when Connor confirmed this claim of hers, Frank couldn’t help but grow very concerned. He’s grown used to knowing what’s going on with Chris and Laurel before everyone else so having someone else be in the know while he was kept in the dark made him feel oddly jealous and hurt.

And he could only hold his worries and assumptions at bay so long...

Responding to the knock at the door, knowing who it probably is at this hour, Laurel contemplates whether opening the door would be the right thing to do. She’s double-checked that it is indeed him, that bringing her more uncertainty than comfort, oddly enough. She’s been doing her best to distance herself from him and his life for quite a while now. She’s been meaning to give him an opportunity at a normal life, away from her mess and chaos. She’s been wanting to give him an escape from the fiasco she always finds herself dragging him into.

But he still comes back to her, by his own choice.

“Laurel, it’s me.“ His coarse voice reaches her from the other side of the door.

“Yeah...“ She trails off, forcing her hand up to turn the lock, “...I know.“

Opening the door reveals the concern on his face a lot better than she saw through the peephole. It makes her heart swell up and all she wants to do is throw her arms around him in a tight embrace. But she can’t do that, she won’t. She’s not willing to give him any reason to hold onto her whatsoever. In her eyes, he deserves a lot better. And maybe he does, but he doesn’t want anything or anyone better.

“Hey...“ he mutters, unsure of how to start of the interaction. Things have never been easy between them and, looking back, it seems like they’ve only gotten harder. Somehow, their connection has only grown stronger though. A connection he wants to uphold and a connection she wants to sever.

“Hey...What are you doing here so late?“ Ok, that’s a sustainable question considering it’s 10PM, but then again he’s come to her apartment at odder hours. Only difference is, those other times, she called him over.

“Though I’d check on you. You’ve been rather dead with calls and texts recently. Also missed Chris, heard he had a fever so I got worried.“ She hears the undertone of accusation in his voice loud and clear. It makes her bite her lip with guilt she wishes she wasn’t feeling, especially when she’s supposed to be doing the right thing.

You can’t decide for him. If he wants to keep coming back, that’s on him.

That thought hasn’t crossed her mind yet. It almost feels like she’s letting herself off the hook, feeding into the temptation to embrace what her and Frank have.

“You hungry?“ Now that is a bit more out-of-place question, but it’s accompanied by her taking a step back to allow him inside, “I ordered Thai food I never got to finish.“

He follows the signal, growing a bit more hopeful now that she’s let him in the apartment, thinking maybe she isn’t avoiding him after all. “Loss of appetite?”

“Partly.“ She replies, hearing the click of Frank locking the front door before following her in the kitchen where the hanging lights are dimmed. “Chris was throwing a fuss all day, I couldn’t really do much but focus on him.“ She motions to the living room where the coffee table is littered with sheets of paper and highlighters, some of which have found a spot on the floor as well. “Not to mention the ton of crap I need to do for school and work.“

“Would’ve been a lot easier on you had you called me, you know?“ He comments, walking over to the fridge, taking out the two packs of Thai takeout, suggesting she had been expecting him. She wasn’t really, she was just quietly hoping he’d show up at her doorstep.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s nothing serious, a simple cold, I can handle it.“ She replies, approaching the small vintage radio in the corner of the kitchen counter, turning it on to a quiet volume so some tunes could fill the silences that are bound to occur frequently with the amount of tension between them.

“You could never bother me, Laurel. I’ve told you countless times before...“ putting the food he’s now moved onto a large plate into the microwave and turning the machine on, he turns to look at her, “I love Chris like he’s my son. In my eyes, he is my son and I love him with all my heart. Just like I love you.“

Instead of allowing the deafening quiet to take over them again - the soft music from the radio aside - Laurel lets the loudness of her mind surface. She lets it seep through the barriers she built in order to protect herself and protect everyone around her from herself: “Do you never stop to think you deserve better, Frank? Better than some grown-ass woman with her life in shambles and a kid whose father’s dead. Do you not think you deserve someone who knows what they want and where they’re headed with their life? Someone who...” her confidence is slowly leaving her to fend for herself and so she does, the best she can. “Someone who can cook and do their projects and work and take care of her son simultaneously. Someone better, Frank! Do you never want someone better?”

She hadn’t realized her eyes had been darting all over the place, looking everywhere but at him. How that her gaze has once again landed on his face, she feels her stomach turn at what she sees. That concerned, hurt and disappointed frown only further fuels her guilt, making her wish she’d never opened the door in the first place.

“Laurel, where’s this all coming from? Did Bonnie say something to you cause if she did...“ she cuts him off.

“No, she didn’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now actually. All I am to you is trouble and a burden and...“ he gets back at her, cutting her off himself.

“And you’re none of those things, Laurel. Your view of yourself is interfering with your perception of this, of us, of what we have. You and Chris are my family. The family I choose. It’s not about deserve or idealism - it’s about what brings you joy and makes you feel complete. What and who makes you feel at home. Who is your home.“ Always cautious of her personal space, Frank takes a hesitant step towards her and another when she doesn’t back away. “Lord knows it’s no paradise, but what we have is special, Laurel, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.“

Against her best attempts at keeping her emotions at bay, Laurel feels her eyes brimming with tears as she gazes up at the man she’s never been in the clear with. She never realizes what he means to her until it’s too late. She only realized she loved him when he disappeared. She only realized he meant the world to her when he had already slipped from her grip. And she refuses to continue that pattern.

Instead, she’ll work on finding out what they are exactly and even if she doesn’t reach that epiphany, she’ll still embrace it, no matter the oddity and unfamiliarity of it all.

“Thank you.“ she manages to whisper past the knot in her throat.

“Don’t thank me, you should never thank me for the things I do for you or Chris. I choose to do them. I choose to be here. I choose you because I want you. You and no one else, Laurel.“

Just then, the microwave beeps, alerting the two that their close-to-midnight meal is warmed up. Taking the plate out and placing it on the counter to cool down a little, he turns to her with a small smile on his face, “Let’s see what’s so troubling about that project of yours, shall we?”

And just like that, the tension has lifted, allowing for a smile to appear on her face as well. That ease of the mind is not something she’s been very used to throughout her life, constantly having shit to worry about and people to deal with. That’s why she’s never wanted to be a burden on someone’s back. She’s never wanted to be a major part in someone’s life, at least not until she gets her shit together.

And although she might never get her shit together, she’s got someone she loves and someone who loves her by her side. Lord knows he hasn’t been on top of his own shit either. At least they’ll be figuring it all out together.

[aye-write]

Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region. 

 However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is just a quick author's note today! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I hope you enjoy another chonk of a chapter and that the starters' introduction went okay! There were a LOT of Pokedex entries this week, so I won't be including them all in the author's note this time, but you can head over to our tumblr @kildo-pokedex​ to see them in full! See you in two weeks, everyone!

*****

Chapter Four

Things moved fast that night. Too fast. Morning dawned, dappling the sky with tangerine oranges and cotton candy pinks, and Isla soon found herself packed and standing on the doorstep of the cottage she’d almost come to think of as home.

Rhona fussed over Skye’s layers and blankets for so long that Isla thought they’d never get away. Even Blair started to look nervous, casting pointed glances first at his watch and then at his mother. It would be a long walk, he said loudly, at least five hours of walking, and they needed to get on. Finally Rhona got the hint and passed over a mammoth bag of sandwiches, juice, and crisps – enough to sustain an army for about a week – and both parents said their goodbyes. Rhona’s eyes were wet with tears when she broke her hug with her daughter.

Isla moved forward, meaning just to offer thanks, but before she could open her mouth, Rhona swept her into a rib-crunching hug.

“Now you be careful out there, chick,” Rhona said, her breath tickling the whorls of Isla’s ear. “You always have a home here with us, alright? Don’t you dare be a stranger. I expect to see you again here before you go back to Johto, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isla said, her voice thick.

Kenneth shook her hand next, his huge fingers easily engulfing hers. He had a firm grip, yet surprisingly soft hands, and when Isla drew back, she found he’d slipped her two crisp twenty pokedollar notes.

“Kenneth, thank you, but I can’t take—”

“You take care of yourself,” he said firmly.

Isla decided not to argue. Especially when it was the most the giant man had ever said to her in one go before.

Blair took his mother’s hug with an embarrassed grimace, nodding along to a laundry list of instructions she hurled his way. Make sure you take frequent breaks. Don’t let Skye go wandering on her own. Make sure you feed a Clatty if you see one, it’s good luck. Don’t dare go any further than Aberdrip. Eventually, Kenneth clamped his hand on Rhona’s shoulder, and she stopped.

“I suppose you best be going, eh?” she said, forcing a quivering smile. “Before it gets too late on. Have fun, darlings. Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything, Rhona,” Isla said, her voice catching. She had to turn around to shield her face from view.

Blair, who had been battling to fit Rhona’s supplies into their travelling bag, grunted with satisfaction as he finally got the zip up, leaving the bag bulging like an overripe balloon. He felt around at his waist, unhooked a Pokeball, and tossed it over the gate.

“Coastrot, come out!”

Isla let out a breath as the ball burst open and she came face to face with Blair’s Pokemon. Easily reaching Blair’s shoulders, it had a long, lithe body with a clipped coat the colour of the ocean under the morning sky. Even when it stayed still, its mane and tail rippled like plumes of gentle flowing water. It was a stunning Pokemon – right down to its dark, inquisitive eyes and glistening hooves – but there was something unusual about it that Isla couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stared, Coastrot’s body seemed to blur, wavering in front of her like a picture on a TV with a dodgy signal.

Blair saw her staring. “Touch him,” he suggested.

Isla frowned, uncertain. Under Blair’s watchful eye, she reached out to touch this new Pokemon, only for her hand to slip straight through its body, as easily as if she had just put her hand through a hologram. She whipped her hand away like she’d just been shocked. The Pokemon’s body turned solid again the moment Blair touched it to string up one of the bags.

Isla consulted her Pokedex. “Coastrot, the Mirage Pokemon. Its translucent body refracts light, and it will often appear as though it is surrounded by rainbows. If it doesn’t trust someone, they will not be able to touch it. This is seen as an unlucky omen by some.”

“Amazing,” she said. “So it only lets people it trusts touch it?”

“That’s right,” Blair nodded.  “Coastrot is actually the evolved form of one of the Kildo starters. He was my starter, so he’s been in the family a long time, but it still wasn’t easy for him to trust all of us. He lets me touch him, of course, and Skye, and sometimes Dad, but Mum is still a tricky case. Since he’s only just met you, it may take him a while to warm up.”

“That’s okay,” Isla held her hand out for the Pokemon to sniff. Its nose passed straight through her hand, a sensation rather like she’d plunged her hand into a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Blair clapped on Coastrot’s haunches, signalling everything was secured. He called for Skye and helped boost her up, Isla holding her breath as she entertained a vision of Skye sinking right through the Pokemon’s ethereal back. Luckily, Coastrot remained solid and strong, allowing Skye to settle herself.

“Hold onto his mane, there,” Blair fussed. “No, not there. That’s too tight. Just there, look.”

Skye made several wide-eyed glances over the Pokémon’s massive haunches as Blair made the final checks. Isla offered her a smile.

“I take it that you won’t be going for Coastrot’s evolution for your first Pokemon, then?” she whispered.

Skye shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Definitely not.”

As she waited, a breath of wind lifted the hair from Isla’s forehead, already moist with sweat from the heat of the beating sun. She’d dressed light, in a loose, billowing top two sizes up from her normal, and a pair of comfortable jogging trousers, but she still worried about the journey. The bag slung on her shoulders didn’t feel heavy now, but walking would leaden it. She’d sprayed most of a bottle of antiperspirant on herself before setting out, but she still had doubts about its efficiency. She could only hope they would take it slow and she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“That’s us,” Blair announced. “We’re ready to go.”

And with one final look back at the Whispering Pines Croft, they set off.

**

Having left the confines of the family croft, Blair switched into serious mode. He had done some travelling when he was younger, he explained as they walked, enough to know the basics, and he’d made the journey between Aberdrip and Port Glen enough times to pick out the best route to accommodate Coastrot. Their chosen path along Route 1 started out as a stretch of delightfully flat ground, buffeted by a strong, salt-smelling, easterly wind. After an hour, the flat paths became bumpy and wild, grass rising as high as their knees, the tips of trees bordering the horizon.

Blair told them stories as they walked, a welcome distraction for the pain needling through Isla’s legs. He brought them to a stop at the peak of a hill to point out Loch Culla in the distance, a shimmering body of water neatly fringed with trees. A place claimed to be the home of an entire family of shiny Kildonian Lapras.

Skye’s shriek of excitement at this news startled Coastrot, and Blair had to dart to her rescue in case she was catapulted off. She wasn’t fazed. She still insisted on making the detour so they could go hunting for one. Blair laughed. The loch was a protected area for that exact purpose, he explained, and catching Pokemon wasn’t allowed there.

“But we can manage a picnic nearby,” Blair added when Skye’s face fell. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back to walking it was. Isla forced herself back to her feet. To give Blair his dues, he factored in plenty of breaks, at every rest stop or every half an hour, whichever came first. He said he wanted Coastrot to get plenty of rest, as he wasn’t used to carrying weight over long distances. Isla wasn’t sure how true that was, but she was grateful all the same. If Blair and Skye saw her flushed face, sweat patches, and occasional gasps for breath, they were very kind and didn’t draw attention to it.

As promised, they unpacked a picnic at the bank of Loch Culla and shared out sandwiches, fruit, and flavoured waters. Sitting in the shade, listening to the water lapping against the bank, and sipping their drinks fresh from the cool bag, Isla felt totally at peace, despite the numbing aches sprouting in the back of her calves. Blair recalled Coastrot for a proper rest, but Isla released Soba and Wingull to stretch their legs and wings. To keep Wingull amused, but more to stop him stealing, she lobbed his food into the air, sending him swooping and diving over the loch and into the deep grass in pursuit.

Skye didn’t eat much, her eyes trained on the still loch water. When Blair nudged her back to reality, she folded her arms and said, “Blair, I’m looking for Lapras. Leave me alone.”

Isla saw him roll his eyes, but when he spoke to his sister, his tone was nothing but gentle and respectful. “You won’t see them, Skye. It’s massively rare to see a Kildonian Lapras out in the open. They live pretty much entirely underwater. Proper deep down.”

Isla looked up from her sandwich. “Do they? They don’t in Johto.”

“Yep. Kildonian ones are different types too. Ours are Ghost and Dragon.”

“Water and Ice for us.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty different, isn’t it? I think the mainland variant travel a lot, but you can pretty much trace all Kildonian Lapras to just one or two lochs here. They don’t move around a lot. Hence why the area is protected.”

“It doesn’t look protected?” Isla said, looking around. There wasn’t a stitch of modern technology to be seen. No buildings. No cameras. Heck, there didn’t even seem to be any other people around other than just them. “There’s nothing here.”  

“Doesn’t need to be. See that sign?” Blair pointed out a sign nailed to a nearby tree. A bold, crimson X was splayed across a black and white image of a Pokeball. “That sign lets us know that there’s Anti-Pokeball Interference here. API for short.” When he saw Isla’s blank face, he frowned. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but basically, Dad said that it transmits some sort of signal that humans and Pokemon can’t hear, but it scrambles the capture mechanism on all Pokeballs. Makes them nothing more than fancy paperweights.”

“We certainly don’t have that in Johto.”

“It’s pretty new. Just come into fashion over the last year. Lot of folks don’t like it, though. I think they had protests out in Tideburgh. They say it violates our rights to catch Pokemon and that it’s going to lead to overpopulation. If you ask me, it’s a load of Tauros shi— uh, nonsense,” he corrected himself when Skye turned her head.

They lapsed into silence, Isla pretending to be fascinated with her sandwich crusts. They’d gone dry and hard in the sun, and she nibbled at them ineffectively. Wingull, amazingly, had eaten its fill and had nestled with his head (mostly) under one stubby wing. Soba, who had been luxuriating in the sun, had fallen asleep curled around a bottle of lemonade. Blair lay back in the grass, his eyes shut, making occasional contented noises. Skye was scribbling something in a notebook patterned with Slugma.

“We’ll head off soon,” Blair yawned. “I just want to rest my eyes for a few minutes.”

The soft noise of snoring drifted over the wind moments later. Isla had to resist the urge to join him. Sitting down had been fatal. Now her eyes felt as heavy as her legs and the thought of getting up again made tiredness sink into the very pit of her. She could shut her eyes for a few minutes, she reasoned. Just a few minutes. Just a few—

“Isla!” a voice cut through her thoughts. “Isla! Isla, look!”

Isla had to force open her eyes, gummed together like chewy toffee. Skye was on her feet, pointing at the nearby undergrowth.

“What’s goin—”

“Shush!” Skye hissed. “Just look!”

In amongst the green, leafy fronds was a flash of something dull and brown. It emerged from the grass like a Furret in miniature. It had a long, snake-like body, the colour of dark chocolate, and a cream underbelly. Its sharp, inquisitive nose twitched, and its tail swished like an over-eager feather duster.

“What is that?” Isla gasped, pulling her Pokedex out.

“It’s a Mudstel!” Skye said, just as Isla’s Pokedex chirped “Mudstel, the Mud Ferret Pokemon. Curious, but shy, Mudstel rely on their stealth and environment when hunting. They blend in well among trees and bushes, but if spotted, will quickly burrow underground to escape.”

“Gosh, it must be hungry if it’s come right out in the open!” Skye breathed out. “Can we try feeding it?”

“Yeah, if you like. Try it with the crusts there.”

Skye offered the Mudstel some of the uneaten crusts. The Pokemon held back, its nose twitching, eyes unblinking. Skye stretched her hand out further.

“Wait, Skye. Stay as still as you can,” Isla advised, not even daring to breathe too loudly in case she startled it. Skye’s wavering arm came to a stop. “That’s it. Let it come to you.”

After a few moments, the Mudstel stretched out its long, ribbon-like body. Skye looked like she was about to burst from excitement, but somehow, managed to stay still. Isla caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth as Mudstel opened its mouth and snatched the crusts from Skye’s hand. It didn’t pause to eat them, just turned on its heels, and dove back into the undergrowth.

They waited, but Mudstel didn’t come back out.

Skye looked crestfallen as the grass went still. “Bread crusts aren’t all that nutritious,” she said mournfully. “I wish it had stayed and I could have given it some Pokemon food. I think we even have some Pokemon Rock. That would have been even better for it.”

Isla made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe we can leave some pellets for it when we pack up and leave?”

“Maybe. But I wish I could have caught it. I don’t want it to end up starving. Mudstel wouldn’t come out and take food from humans if it could help it.”

“Some Pokemon are just opportunistic, Skye. He probably has plenty of chances to get food and then saw us and thought “Oh yes, a free lunch!” Pokemon are clever. They can take care of themselves.”

“I suppose.”

Isla slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Try not to worry,” she said. “We’ll be in Aberdrip soon and you’ll have your very own Pokemon before you know it.”

“I know,” Skye said. “I just… wish I could make friends with all of them. I don’t want any of them to suffer.”

“Then I think that means you’ll be a good trainer.”

Skye smiled. Isla’s heart skipped a little. Could this really be the first time that she had ever seen the younger girl smile?

A sudden kerfuffle sent them both looking over Blair, who snorted and pushed himself upright, making a strange gulping noise. “I wasn’t asleep! I wasn’t… sleeping?” He looked blearily across at Skye and Isla. “Was I sleeping?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, the noise of their laughter echoed across the loch like water tinkling from a waterfall.

**

They had stopped for another break on Route 3, a densely wooded path littered with fallen leaves and fresh with the smell of moss, when Blair got a text through on his phone.

Immediately, he was dialling a number, face twisted, and one hand covering his ear to block out the shrill shriek of the local Caperchick. A Caperchick, as Isla had found out was another of Kildo’s resident bird Pokemon. Pretty much helpless as babies, they were only able to eat, sleep, and call for help from others in their family group. Isla had hoped to see one, but Blair dissuaded her, explaining their later evolutions were territorial and aggressive. Most wouldn’t take kindly to humans on their turf.

It still didn’t stop her, or Skye, from hoping. Skye got up to wander four times while Blair stepped away to speak on the phone, poking at the bases of trees and among tall grasses. Or maybe she was just doing it to fill the time. Whatever conversation Blair was having, it was taking a lot of it.  

When Blair did eventually return, his face was pale. “That was Mum on the phone.”

Isla’s instant thought was Nana Morag. “Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. She’s just back from the hospital. Nana Morag is doing better, they think she’ll be alright to come home soon as long as she gets plenty of bed rest.”

“Did they find out what it was that made her ill?”

“They’re still waiting on some test results,” Blair said, worry creasing his eyebrows into one long caterpillar. “She said she’ll phone me as soon as they hear. Now, the other thing. Mum said she had a voicemail waiting for her when she got out of the hospital. It was one of Professor Spruce’s aides.”

Skye stopped what she was doing, pricking her head up.

“There was some problem with the breeders they use to supply the new trainers and they don’t have enough to supply everyone who wanted one.”

Skye looked ready to burst into tears. Blair saw this and quickly assured, “Don’t panic, Skye. They’ve just moved it to a booking system instead to try and get as many folks sorted as possible today. Mum gave me the number and I called the aide. You’re still getting your Pokemon – as long as we get there in time.”

Skye visibly relaxed but Isla felt like something had severed her at the chest. “When’s Skye’s slot?”

“2pm. It was the only one I could get. All the others were filled.  

Isla looked at the time on her phone. It was already ten to one.  

“Yeah,” Blair said, as Isla caught his eye. “We need to hurry.”

**

Isla hoped that adrenaline would see them through. That they could power on the remaining couple of miles without feeling the pain or the tiredness, subsisting only on the rush of purpose to get there. But it was hell. Pure hell. As they half walked, half jogged along unsteady ground, the air dense and muggy, the heat of the sun dripped down their backs.

I can’t let Skye down, Isla told herself as she dragged her aching limbs over the nobbled hump of yet another hillock. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her down.

Once, when the shooting pain of a stitch left her doubled over, she told Blair and Skye to go on without her. But she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Blair cut in with “Absolutely not. We’re going together,” and that was the end of it.  

As it ticked closer and closer, the clouds receded, and the sun intensified. The air remained stubbornly heavy and humid. Finally, they were over another hill and Aberdrip loomed in the distance, a monochrome city with silver buildings reaching up like metallic petals. They didn’t stop to take in much else. Feet pounding the concrete, each step sending pinpricks of pain up Isla’s legs, Blair hailed a taxi. In one confusing bundle of recalled Pokemon, sorting of bags, and too many legs in one small space, they clambered in. Within minutes, they were speeding along the blurred roads, the streets like smears of running ink.

Professor Spruce’s lab sat right at the western outskirts of Aberdrip in a plot of land closed off by wrought iron gates. The taxi driver dropped them off at the bottom, and after buzzing through to the office, they were on their way up the vicious uphill path to Professor Spruce’s lab.

Stumbling through the front door, trembling with exertion, Isla checked her phone. Three minutes to two. They’d made it.

A concerned looking aide lead them through a maze of breezeblocked hallways. Skye stuck so close to Blair that they practically became one person. The aide opened a door at the end of a particularly long corridor, and they emerged into a room groaning with workbenches and strange equipment that wouldn’t have looked amiss in an old sci-fi film. The room was wonderfully chilled, the overhead fans pumping in swathes of cool air.

Blair and Skye gave the aide their names, Blair signed a proffered sheet, and then they were shepherded through into an adjoining room. As they stepped through, Isla felt the eyes of a dozen people land on her.

“Ah, Skye McLeod, is it?” came a voice from ahead of them. “Excellent. I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Skye tensed next to Isla as the woman who had spoken – Isla assumed this was Professor Spruce – beckoned them forward. She was small, rounded, with greying hair slung into a messy bun. Her eyes were sharp, glinting like the sheen of ice over a frozen puddle. Easily a foot shorter than everyone else in the room, she still commanded everyone’s attention.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Spruce separated Skye and the two other young trainers – one girl and one boy – from their respective guardians. Isla collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair. Blair was rigid in his own seat as Professor Spruce took the new trainers through the standard “First Pokemon” spiel. It was a comforting lecture, so much so that mixed with the relief they had made it in time, Isla soon felt her eyelids drooping.

Then, voices surged.

“I want to go first!”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Enough!” Professor Spruce barked, her voice tight. “Being a Pokemon trainer isn’t about who goes first. It’s not even about getting exactly what you want. If you go into this life expecting to get what you want all the time, you are setting yourself up for failure Pokemon are as unique and individual as each one of you. A “weak” Pokemon can become strong from the right training and support. On your journey as trainers, I encourage you to open your hearts and minds. Embrace all that this region has to offer you. Take a chance on people – and Pokemon – you might not expect to. They might just surprise you. Now, young lady…” Professor Spruce’s eyes fixed on Skye, who had been sitting quietly the whole way through. “Why don’t you come up and pick your partner?”

Frozen under the expectant gaze, Skye didn’t move. The other two new trainers muttered as the silence grew. The faces of the parents clouded. Still Skye didn’t move. Or perhaps she couldn’t.

Isla pushed herself out of her chair. Despite the angry murmurings from the other guardians, she threaded herself in next to her. “Skye, do you want to go up first?” she asked.  

Skye nodded.

“Would you like me to go up with you? Or maybe Blair?”

She shook her head, but no words came out.

“Just take your time. I know it’s a bit scary, but you can do it.”

With the encouragement, Skye faced the three Pokeballs next to Professor Spruce. Each one was furnished with a plaque listing information about the Pokemon inside. Isla read them over, trying to absorb the information quickly, in case she was asked to sit back down. One Grass starter, one Fire, one Water. Exactly the same as Johto.

Coozy, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Little Cow Pokemon

Good natured and docile, this Coozy is an excellent choice for those who enjoy a slow and steady pace in life. Be careful not to let him get lazy and complacent!

*

Bleater, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Nightlight Pokemon

Aloof yet curious, this Bleater will be a loyal companion to any trainer willing to take the time to get to know him. Be warned, Bleater are prone to dependency on their trainers later in life.

*

Coltide, Lv5

Gender: Male

The Water Horse Pokemon

Spirited and independent, this Coltide can be a handful without firm guidance in the beginning. However, you will rarely find a more dedicated Pokemon out there!

*

Curiosity burned at the back of Isla’s head, but now wouldn’t be the right time to interrupt everything by checking. For now, she turned back to the chairs and waited as Skye made her final decision.

“This one.” Skye eventually said. “I would like this one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Professor Spruce said kindly. “Why don’t you take your, uh… guardians towards the back and fill out the paperwork? The aide will have your license waiting for you.”

“You go,” Isla motioned to Blair. “I’ll wait here.”

While Skye was away dealing with her paperwork, Isla watched the two remaining trainers making their picks. Compared to Skye, there was no hesitation. The boy beelined immediately for Coltide, but the other girl seemed perfectly happy to be left with Coozy. Which, of course, meant that Skye had chosen Bleater.

One by one, the families left for the other room, and Isla had the chance to look closer at the three Kildo starters. She painstakingly punched the names – or her best memory of them – into the Pokedex and clicked Image Search.

Coozy, she decided, would have been her choice. It was almost painfully cute; small, and quadrupedal, covered in a thick coat of moss green fur, a pale pink nose, and dark inquisitive eyes. Her arms ached to hug it.

Now, Bleater was cute too, she thought. It reminded her of a favourite Johto Pokemon – a Mareep – just smaller. Its wool was coarse and tightly packed against the body, in a vivid orange, the colour of flame. Its short, stubby legs and the small nubs of horns were a much darker orange, a striking contrast to the rest of its body.

The final one, Isla could figure out on her own. An aqua blue body, a mane and tale reminiscent of flowing water, black hooves polished like obsidian, and dark, beguiling eyes. Coltide, the previous evolution of Blair’s Coastrot.

“You seem very interested in the starters, young lady,” Professor Spruce’s voice cut through Isla’s thoughts, making her jump. “Not local?”

“How could you tell?” Isla laughed nervously.

“I’ve been around the block too many times,” Professor Spruce said. “Kanto?”

“No, Johto. My accent is a bit softer though, so I get why people mix them up.”

“Johto, eh? That’s a long trip. What brings you here?”

“Visiting family. And some research into the Kildonian Chessmen.”

Professor Spruce’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”

A perfect opportunity had fallen right into her lap. She would be stupid not to take advantage of it now. “Professor, do you know anything about them?” she asked. “Or the Vitalities? Anything you could tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like where they could be found?”

Professor Spruce’s eyebrow arched. “Well, no-one really knows where the Chessmen are now. Recent reports claim they settled in remote places – like islands far away from the mainland or underground. But that’s all just theories. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting in over a century. But the Vitalities, on the other hand…”

Isla leant forward, closing the space between them.

Professor Spruce seemed to think better of what she was about to say and let out a sigh. “You have to understand something first. The Vitalities are a polarising bunch. Much of my generation, us old folks, even some of the more… naïve younger people believe the Vitalities are responsible for the natural disasters around Kildo.”

This wasn’t news to Isla, but still she pressed “Why?”

“The Vitalities brought many gifts to humans. Some were used wisely. Others weren’t. One of the most enduring theories is that the Chessmen banished and trapped the Vitalities to four remote corners of Kildo to prevent them intervening in humans’ natural progress. There’s an argument to be made that the natural disasters are the Vitalities fighting back, I suppose rebelling against their banishment.”

“So, no-one knows where they are? Or the Chessmen?”

Professor Spruce shook her head. “You may have noticed that Kildo is a region on a precipice. Pokemon journeys, gym circuits, the battling leagues, these are all very new to us. And they’ve become very popular very quickly. Up until about twenty years ago, most people in Kildo only used Pokemon to help them work the land, to till crops, things like that. It was like the whole region carried this collective memory, a shared fear of what happened when technology became too great a force.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes. But that fear has diluted. It’s been lost among much of the new generation. Things have changed. We’ve made amazing technological advances since then, eclipsed even some of the other regions that have been doing this for much longer. I’m sure you’ve heard about our API technology and Ability Suppressors and Experience Boosters, all that sort of thing.” Isla hadn’t, but she didn’t want to stop her and ask. Lots of people think it’s amazing. Lots more people are scared. Scared that if the Chessmen were to wake again, and were to see the way we have advanced, they would do exactly what they did the last time they awoke.”

The phrase festering in Isla’s mouth felt ridiculous. Laughable. But something compelled her to say it anyway.

“That they would destroy the whole region?”

Professor Spruce’s piercing grey eyes met Isla’s.

“Exactly.”

[gelinedomingo]

ECQ: Enhanced Community Quaranscene A Comprehensive Analysis of our Local Government’s response to the Global Crisis: The Covid-19 Pandemic

Hey! It’s me, Geline Domingo! A 19 year-old BSED student from Bulacan State University. As the title suggests, this blog will tackle the practices done by our locality when the Enhanced Community Quarantine was administered.

#QuarantineSeasonInANutshell #ImBoredInTheHouseAndImInTheHouseBored #FolkloreAlbumSavesTheYear

WE GOT SCAMMED! It is undeniably that last year (2019) has been a very tough year for all of us. It is indeed a mentally and emotionally draining year. During countdowns, people wished to leave their bad experiences behind and swore to make the upcoming year a more meaningful and memorable one. At exactly 12 midnight, as we jumped hoping to earn some heights (yep! I know that I’m not the only one who grew up believing on that superstitious belief, minus the fact that I didn’t grow up haha :( but still there’s nothing to lose if you try, even though I am already past puberty.) we bid our farewells to an extremely exhausting year and were officially ready to face year 2020, heads on. 

We thought that as a decade past, we can all now have a fresh start. Thus, before the year ends, people were all ready to welcome an amazing year, or so we thought. You’ll see people on the internet (especially on twitter) were already claiming that 2020 will be our year! BUT we got PRANKED.BIG.TIME. 2020 be out there screaming #ISSAPRANK. It’s true when they said that not all jokes are funny because this year has been a big joke since day one and it is getting more annoying each day :)

Wishing that this year would be the start of each and everyone’s breakthrough didn’t became a success maybe because we lacked 11:11 wishes, nah just kidding.

“Disappointed but not surprised” has been a whole MOOD for all, if not then I think it’s safe to say that majority, after everything that has happened. Not even a single soul expected that the most anticipated year that everyone thought to be their new beginning would slap this hard. BUT, it is not only because of the cancelled plans, empty planners, and not having commencement program for the graduates that make this year even worse than 2019.

People are dying. They are NOT just numbers, they HAVE lives and those are not mere statistics! Those are real life people who have families, dreams, and people who they got to inspire.

“This is not the plot twist we’re desperately asking for.” “Surviving doesn’t equate to living.” “It’s either we’re gonna die ‘cause of hunger or get infected by the virus.” —  are just some of my everyday thoughts.

Never ending, “*insert year* will be better.” Yes, it is tiring but I think at some point, it should still be something to be grateful of. Never losing hope is a skill that I, myself couldn’t even master. So it’s amazing that there still people out there with that kind of mindset but not to the point that it’s becoming toxic. Well, we do have our different definition of toxic. But, can we all agree that what 2020 brought upon us, isn’t debatable, toxic?

Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. 

Let’s have a quick flashback as to where it all started in our country...

The first case of Covid-19 in the Philippines was reported by the Philippine Department of Health (DOH) on the 30th of January, 2020 — a 38-year-old female Chinese national and on March 7, the DOH confirmed the first local transmission of the said virus.

As the virus spread rapidly which resulted to the increase number of Person Under Investigation (PUI), Person Under Monitoring (PUM), and the confirmed cases, the National Government decided to place Luzon on a lockdown which in the Inter-Agency Task Force guidelines is known as the Enhanced Community Quarantine (ECQ), it was officially enacted on March 15, 2020. It causes the cancellation of both international and local transportations. 

MAJORITY OF THE CITIZENS IN OUR BARANGAY HAVE BEEN LARGELY COOPERATING SINCE DAY ONE. In accordance with the National and Regional IATF’s rules and regulations, our barangay officers made sure that all of the ordinance are being strictly followed — the minimum health standards such as social distancing and wearing face masks whenever an individual ( for essential work and purpose) leave their house. Those practices that they have been doing to cope up in this pandemic aside from the cooperation of the citizens became the key to control the spread of the virus within our area. First, they took the implementation of the curfew hours seriously. Our curfew hours ranges from eight in the evening to five in the morning. There are barangay officers that patrols on our area from time to time. Furthermore, to make sure that the most vulnerable age group won’t get infected, only those who ages from twenty-one to fifty-nine years old were allowed to go out. Every family could only have one person who can acquire a quarantine pass which can only be used to go out and buy our necessities, every Wednesdays and Saturdays. 

AYUDA TALK! Ayuda is one of the most famous word that 2020 has. We received ayuda thrice — dated April 6, April 17 and May 2. The relief goods were delivered on each and everyone’s doorstep. As we all know, many families lost their source of income because of the pandemic, those goods that we received can’t barely sustain a day in our household with seven people, this may seem not the average amount of people living under one roof BUT even in a average household, those foods will only last for a day or two (except if they’re in a diet). To think that the distributions were only done thrice on separate days, how could the people without means to provide for themselves and only depending on the “ayuda” survive?  

We are qualified to be one of the beneficiaries that’s why.we received six thousand five hundred pesos from Social Amelioration Program (SAP) (since my father lost his job because of this pandemic) but not all citizens of our barangay received cash assistance. If you’ll ask me, it is not even bare minimum, knowing that the financial aid was only given on the last weeks of April, a month after the lockdown. 

I do have some concerns but I know that our barangay officials only followed the instructions given to them nonetheless what I can suggest is that aside from the goods they allocated. They could’ve add some vitamins since there is no vaccine yet, it would be a great help to fight the virus, by boosting our immune system.

*Per the Office of the Governor’s recommendation/request, The Regional Inter-Agency Task Force approved the extension of the implementation of the enhanced community quarantine in our province until May 31,2020.

On the latter part, I know that this pandemic also affects people’s mental health and some people’s coping mechanism is by going out so I want to share my concern to those people. I do hope that you’re doing okay during this quarantine season. I am praying that God may help you be stronger each day and please always remember that your feelings are valid, and that you, a beautiful human being, matter!

Quarantine, virus, and pandemic are just few of the words you would encounter on fantasy series and films, who would have thought that it would be our reality?

[flateshippingrates]

On Your Doorstep (2/2)

Ship: Solangelo

Words: 1627

Ao3

Maybe it wasn’t the best or most mature way to handle the situation, but it was the way Nico had settled on. He stayed in his cabin, shadow traveling out for lunch and dinner in the city (that way he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew), and coming back to sit in brooding silence or blaring music. He didn’t have to worry about money because he had accumulated a large sum from his father, who overpaid him to run minor, quick errands and since essentially everything at camp was taken care of, he didn’t spend a lot. Also, there were lots of cheap food options and it didn’t hurt that he spoke Italian to some immigrants that had opened their own place nearby. He felt right at home in this routine.

Admittedly, it was tiring to have skeleton soldiers up all the time, even when he wasn’t there, and then, on top of that, shadow traveling. He knew it wasn’t sustainable and felt at least mildly exhausted all the time from it, but he was stubborn and hurt. So, this, right now, was his plan: Ignore all Iris messages, voices of reason, and talks of feelings for the rest of forever. It sounded good, but he forgot to account for the equal stubbornness of a certain blond.

The skeletons were set to scare—not actually hurt—Will away from the Hades cabin. Nico didn’t account for the fact that the son of Apollo would send other campers to drop off letters with practiced writing and a red heart to his cabin. He also didn’t expect the Hermes cabin to take responsibility for what happened by helping in the success of the love letter drop off.

Once a day, a skeleton soldier would awkwardly bring him a letter to which he acted like he didn’t want, but when the door was shut and it was just him, he tore it open like it held the secret to eternal happiness (and maybe in some sense it did).

Today’s letter read:

Dear Nico,

I am unsure if you are actually reading these and you would be well within your rights to just toss them out but everyday, when I see you open up for just a split second, I know there’s a chance you are still listening.

So, please, hear me now:

I now know why Orpheus looked back at Eurydice; how strong and crazy desire for another person can make us. Everyday I regret not telling you sooner, constantly looking back on our memories together—are you still there, my darling, my love? Are you still there?

Give me some sign you are so I don’t look back and lose you forever.

Sincerely yours,

Will

He scanned it a few times, deciding if it was worth it to respond—if only to let the blond know he was still listening. It would sting him more if he thought the Italian didn’t give him his time anymore but love isn’t about saying “a-ha! I gotcha! You cared more than me!” If it meant being with someone who loved you and you loved back, even if only for twenty-four hours, ten minutes, or a lifetime, the taste of it would linger forever. There would always be that moment when someone saw you—all of you—and still said, “I love you.”

So, Nico set a bird with bits of flesh still messily attached to its body to wait outside his cabin for the next letter. If it saw the blond walking anywhere near his cabin, it would swoop down with purpose, until three days had passed and Will realized what it wanted.

He handed a letter to the bird with a small bag of ambrosia to rejuvenate Nico from the overzealous use of power. It was only a small piece because, of course, a bird couldn’t carry all that he would need; although, the letter could be something to lure the son of Hades into proper care.

Nico practically snatched the letter when it came, giving the bird its peace for the rest of the day, and nibbled at the ambrosia as he read:

Dear Nico,

I want to tell you how I wish I had taken time off work to speak to you more. I’ve never felt as good as when I’m talking to you. If you came out, I would say how much I love the way your hair curls in on the left side and out on the right. I would whisper a thank you to every blade of grass you were about to walk on. I would kiss the sole of your heart for stepping all over mine that first time. I would tell you how much I dream of just holding your hand--how fast my heart pounds, even now. I want to tell you how I remember seeing you in all your glory and how when I said, “stay” what I meant to say was, “I want to say nothing but your name forever.”

Nico, my darling. Nico, my heart. Nico, my life.

I still look up at the hill, expecting to see you again like the first time I was ever given a reason to stop playing dead. I want to never again lose sight of what I saw. I never want to lose sight of what is real. The feelings between us are not meant to be coo-ed at like a newborn, they are well formed and they are ours. I want to nurture this with you. I want you to know, even now, with the distance, if you reached out your hand you would touch mine that’s how close I am.

But, in times like these, to summarize all my feelings, it would be easier to simply say: I love you and I always will.

Sincerely yours,

Will

Then, just like that, the pacing began--back and forth like a tiger in a cage--thinking could be a dangerous game. How could he be mad at Will for not expressing his feelings when he was so bad at it too? But, then again, the blond did always push Nico into speaking his mind so this wasn’t exactly fair. It wasn’t like the Italian blamed his friend for the stolen first kiss; that would be unfair. He just felt betrayed that their communication had slipped so much without him noticing.

He peered outside to see if he could see some tuft of blond in the bushes but was only met with his own soldiers. These letters were the only thing making it through his walls.

The next day, he summoned a bird to capture the letter but this time, he sat on his porch.B Blue eyes purposely stared through brown while he passed off the note and even though Nico didn’t wave back, Will knew this was the start of a real conversation. The quagmired situation that settled between them could be sorted soon. It had only taken two weeks of insistent, demanding love.

Nico peeled the heart back, pulled the letter out, and then, with one last glance at Will, he walked inside to read it.

Dear Nico,

You asked me how I couldn’t see you loved me and I’m sorry. The way you love is so quiet and so sweet, I sunk into it comfortably like a frog. I didn’t notice the heat. I was silent and still for so long, you must have wondered if I was alive, if I loved you.

I did, I did, I do, And I always will.

Sincerely yours,

Will

Sometimes his heart was so heavy he felt like he couldn’t do anything except lay in his bed. There had been whole years when he had been nothing but mean yet thought he was just being honest while he hid. He wanted to leave behind his shame for who he was and how he loved. He wanted to be nothing but honest. He felt the venom in his teeth and pushed it out with a tense breath. No, love was not about saying “a-ha!”

Love was about seeing someone with their heart exposed, taking it into your hands like a scared mouse and knowing when to set it free. The ceiling felt so far away. He felt small and, Gods, he wanted to be big. He wanted to be able to fill his lover’s hoodie, to save each others heart, and press down to stop the bleeding. They were both exposed, trying to wrap their hands around each other.

It was important to know what freedom means to someone.

Nico’s conscious buzzed like a bug zapper on a Texan’s porch and in the morning he let his soldiers fall apart in front of Will as he stood in the doorway. There was a pause. Then, before he could change his mind, the blond came bouncing up the stairs as if he wasn’t just ignored for days. Blue skies bore into the forest of Nico’s brown eyes, his breath stilled when he felt a tanned hand on his hip and saw the hesitance as Will leaned down. “How are you?” The blond whispered, their mouths so close he could feel the air move around them.

“What do you mean?” Nico asked, lamely, looking down at pink lips. He couldn’t help but think about how terrible Will was at archery yet he had a perfect Cupid’s bow.

“I mean… I missed you. I missed you, thank you for staying,” he mumbled.

“Please, may I kiss you?” Nico closed his eyes as Will shut the distance between them, pulling forward like the waves. It really could be like this forever. The push and pull and just them. Like this. Forever. The push and the pull.

[investinpak-blog]

Business Ideas in Pakistan 2020: Complete Roadmap

Pakistan has world’s fifth-largest population (212.2 million or 21 crores) in the world. A consumer’s market this big is an opportunity for all sorts of businesses. Numerous studies show that several markets within Pakistan are still untapped. These untapped markets present a sublime business opportunity. Covering all of the business ideas in Pakistan within this blog post was not an easy task. After working for several days, I have this complete list of small to medium business ideas.

The best thing about this list of business ideas in Pakistan is that I have divided it into several slabs. For example, business ideas according to budget, education, age, expertise and according to interest. You won’t find a more comprehensive list anywhere else.

Just click on the following tabs and you will find business ideas that suit your budget and expertise.

Business ideas from 1 to 5 lakh contain all businesses that can be started within this range. I have invested a lot of time in this section because huge number of people have a budget in this range. Bear in mind that I am going to describe the requriements of each business in detail and these details will contain the major slabs that I mentioned earlier.

Let’s start with the most common business ideas.

Business Ideas in Pakistan from 1 lakh to 5 lakh Rupees

1- Homemade Food Delivery Business

This is a business where you can cook one or more dishes at home and can deliver to the customer’s doorstep. The dishes could be desi food, special cakes, kinds of pasta or fast food. The choice of dishes may be defined by your expertise and the budget you have. Do you want to start food delivery business?

i- If you have about 5 lacks in your pocket, you can deliver a different yet better Pizzas or Burgers via one of the food delivery networks. For example, Foodpanda, EatOye, Careem or Bikea. De Macho’s Pizza works on this model. They might start a dine-in soon but the current profits are coming from Foodpanda.

ii- If you have a budget of 1 lakh in your pocket, you can start with one special dish. For example, Sarang Sindhi Cuisine in F-11 Markaz Islamabad started their business via special Sindhi biryani at home.  The owner is a lady and she runs a pretty good setup in F-11 Markaz now.

iii- You will find several housewives selling these fantastic cupcakes and event cakes online. The business could be started by creating a facebook page and displaying some of your creations. Just keep in mind that if you do not like Foodpanda, you will need someone from the family or from the neighborhood to deliver your dishes to the customers.

Requirements: You will need the budget, yourself or someone who can cook, a kitchen. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Entry level, the dishes must taste very good. Time: Part-time in most dishes. Area: Nearby your kitchen. For example, an area of 20km around your home kitchen.

2- Local Food Stalls

If you are thinking that a huge number of stalls are already there on the streets, you are right. However, we at Investinpak are suggesting our readers to be innovative. Let’s see how innovative you can get.

i- I found this small local food stall business idea online and I think it is pretty much untapped in Pakistan. This is by all means innovative and looks pretty tasty. Everyone is selling potato chips, you just need to be innovative.

More business ideas in Pakistan related to Food Stalls

You do not have to be a vendor yourself, you can get someone to sell them for you. One of my buddies started this in Lahore and he is absolutely sure to invest more in this business. These local food stalls could be seen as a startup experiment that require minimum setup budget and time. Once the startup starts generating profits, you can get a shop nearby and start a full-fledge restaurant.

I would advise against starting a restaurant without prior experience. Most people having 5 lakh in their bank tend to start a fast-food restaurant. I have seen dozens of people failing and losing their money. You need to introduce something new and you need to do it small to get some experience.

Requirements: Equipment for spiral potato. Someone who could sell for you. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Entry level. Time: Mostly in the evenings or at night. Area: Nearby market, institute or office buildings.

3- Online Business like eCommerce

This is where you will require at least some knowledge of computers. You will find a huge list of software houses that are ready to create these eCommerce stores for you. All you need to do is find a product that you can purchase at a wholesale price and then can deliver to the customers at a retail price.

You can also buy running businesses from Flippa and start earning from day 1. You will need extensive knowledge of online businesses to be able to buy a profitable business.

i- If your budget is around 1 lakh then you will be restricted to purchasing products from local markets. Because a good software house will charge at least 50,000PKR to create a sustainable eCommerce store. A bad looking website will only help you lose the rest of your money.

ii- If your budget is around 5 lakh, then you can consider ordering products from Alibaba and then selling them in Pakistan. This is profitable if you can choose a product that can help people. You will need to do extensive research on selecting a product and a vendor from China.

Running an ecommerce business from local products or from Alibaba products is tricky. If you are interested in doing this business, leave your contact details in the comments and I will contact you.

Requirements: A website or a Facebook page, products from local markets or from Alibaba. Education: Basic computer knowledge. Good knowledge of import incase of Alibaba. Expertise Level: Mid-level. Time: Online businesses are 24/7. Call timings can be managed. Area: The city you are living in, to begin with.

4- Fresh Milk and Related Products Home Delivery

This is one of the most profitable business ideas in Pakistan. The reason behind is that Milk, Butter, Desi Ghee, and Cheese are required in every kitchen. On top of that, we know that 99% of the local vendors are not providing pure milk and related products.

All you need is to establish a Facebook page to start delivering these products. The question is, where do you get them and how much money do you need for this?

Let’s evaluate the business in detail.

All of these tools and essentials can be bought within one lakh, but if your budget is near 5 lakh, you can increase the quantity.

A cow or a buffalo, someone who can manage the same. A person who can deliver milk at doorsteps. If you have more than 3 cows or buffaloes, you can start extracting butter, desi ghee or cheese. You will need an expert who has the experience of doing so. These people can easily be hired from your nearby village.

Trust me, anybody who finds out that your products are actually pure will never end doing business with you. On top of that, you will get regular appraisals and customers from these references.

Requirements: Cow or buffalo, a person to manage them, delivery guy. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Mid-level. Time: First half of the day. Area: Nearby colonies, Muhallas.

5- Organic Farming Business (preferably Greenhouse)

Greenhouse farming is different from the regular farming we have been witnessing in Pakistan. A greenhouse refers to a space where certain conditions of temperature and humidity are specified for certain plants to grow faster and better. Organic farming is where all plants and fruits are grown without using modern chemicals and Fertilizers.

This is a unique business idea in Pakistan, you are going into an untapped market.

The reason I am suggesting a greenhouse organic farming business is that the need/demand for organic food is increasing by the day. Have you heard about BioMonde? It is the biggest organic food store in France owned by a Pakistani Entrepreneur.

Similar startups are required in Pakistan as well. These stores can make a hell lot of money if you do it right. The first thing you need is a greenhouse organic farm to grow these products. Once you can create a circle of supply and demand, you can go for your own organic food store in one of Pakistan’s largest cities.

Requirements: Land, at least 5 marlas. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Mid-level. Time: First half of the day. Area: The target market could be any city near you, the bigger the better.

Business Ideas in Pakistan from 5 lakh to 10 lakh rupees

There are numerous fields wide open if you have a budget of 5 to 10 lakhs and are trying to start a business in Pakistan. All the businesses I have mentioned in the previous tab are doable within this budget as well. There are some businesses that I am going to mention for this particular scale of investment.

6- Themed cafe or coffee shop

As I promised I will be mentioning businesses that a majority of investors can start. A coffee shop or a themed cafe is one of them. We have seen hundreds of coffee shops and cafes failing within our city. Just rule them out. Try this new business model and you will find it very attractive.

i- Nobody is going to buy your coffee or cupcakes at extremely high prices if the environment is not upto the mark. You need to hire a startup interior design group to create a fantastic theme according to the city and market. Maybe, follow a trend. I saw a cafe in Islamabad following the Rikshaw art as the base theme. You might have seen these new DHABA style cafes with decorated trees, bone fire and a music band for the weekends. There is a cafe in Bahria Town Rawalpindi that has LUDDO on every table and it seems to have a lot of people hanging around in the evenings.

ii- So, the point one elaborated on the interior and some lucrative ideas that would attract consumers. Once the environment is set, then you can focus on the services, the menu, the naming convention and finally the prices. If you need related ideas and further elaboration, I am happy to assist you. Just right your query in the comments below.

Requirements: Idea for a themed cafe, service staff, a brilliant chef. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Mid-level. Time: Mostly in the evenings. Area: Untapped market or a market with a higher financial scale of customers.

7- Mug printing, T-shirt printing, Pillows and what more

Mainly the printing business. It depends on the budget and handling capacity of orders. If you have ever heard of AliExpress, you can easily order a machine that can print Mugs, Caps, T-Shirts and more. The prices of these machines start from as low as 40,000PKR and they work extremely good.

Once you have ordered the machine, the second step would be finding the stuff that you can print. You can go to the nearest wholesale markets to see unprinted T-shirts, Mugs and related products that your machine can print. Once you have the prices or the products in your range, you are then all set to launch the marketing campaign.

Did I say marketing? Oh yes! this is the most important part. No business can succeed without some sort of marketing. This business, in particular, relies on online marketing the most. You can create a facebook page or even a website and start posting some of the creations from your inventory. If you do not want to spend too much on creating these samples, just hire a graphic designer to design them first and then you can start taking orders.

You can find a good number of these websites and facebook pages that are selling printed products at phenomenal prices. All you’ll need is to compete with them in terms of price and quality.

Requirements: Printing Machine, Graphic Designer, Online presence. Education: No education required. Expertise Level: Entry level. Time: Online orders or a shop that works 10:am to 8:pm. Area: Your city to begin with.

8- Services company

This might be the best thing if you can handle sales. There are numerous options in terms of services. We know how poor most of the individual service providers in Pakistan are. Talk about smaller ones like plumbers, electricians, carpenters, home exterior like whitewash workes, etc. We can also talk about the bigger firms like software or hardware firms, tax consultants, tour and travel consultants, event managers, etc.

Let’s list the ones that are possible within the budget you have.

       i- Software Firm

As difficult as it might sound, starting a software house in Pakistan has never been so easy. If you have IT background or can manage those with IT expertise, this is one of the best businesses you can start. Here is what you need to know all about software business.

– Your first priority should be to set up an office at the lowest cost. Then decide if you are going to take orders from local markets or from the international markets. Hire a marketing team accordingly. For the local market, a team of a male and a female would do great. For international markets, a Bidding expert would be helpful.

– Once you have the sales and marketing setup complete, start hiring programmers. Hire for limited technologies first. For example, provide the web development services in the first phase. Make sure the technologies you go for are updated. I would suggest MEAN or MERN stack as these are currently high in demand.

– Do not rely on services. Start a product. It could be an online store or one of the online businesses that we discussed previously. You will need a steady income to grow in the services business.

       ii- Household Services

Talking about the business ideas in Pakistan and not mentioning these services would be an injustice. We really need professional household services company.

Every house and office needs a plumber, an electrician and probably a carpenter. What you can do is create a team of either all of these experts or just start with one of them. Make sure you have a uniform or a badge that suggest the experts are from your company.

You can keep fixed rates for different services or can fix them on an hourly basis. This way, you will be able to present yourself as a professional service provider.

Keep getting regular feedback from all of the clients you serve. Never allow your team to sabotage your business.

       iii- Tax consultancy

Tax recovery is constantly growing in Pakistan. A lot of businesses are registering themselves with the related authorities. Thus, tax consultancy firms are going to be very important in the near future. If you can tap into this market in the early days, you will be able to get the best out of it in the future.

Requirements: Experts according to the related service, an office, and a sales team. Education: A degree in the relevant field would be great. Expertise Level: Expert level. Time: Office timings 9:00am to 6:00pm. Area: Your city or an open market if you opt for Software House Business.

9- Fish Farming Business Ideas in Pakistan

Fish farming is a highly profitable business idea in Pakistan. The theme is that you grow fish in a pool/farm and once they grow up, you sell them in the markets.

In order to start this business in Pakistan, you will need a pool where you can farm. The size of this pool may depend on the budget you have. You can easily get about 1 Kanal of land in any nearby village for 1 lakh rupees. Then the expense of creating a suitable pool and managing fish could be from 2 to 4 lakh.

Here is a great idea, if you do not want to feed them yourself, you can use nightlights below the water that would attract a lot of insects into the water. The fish would be able to have a nice and fresh dinner. This way, not only that you will save some time, but also some money that you would otherwise spend on buying food from the market.

Requirements: A pool, night lights. Education: Not required. Expertise Level: Entry level. Time: manageable. Area: Nearby to your pool.

10- Beauty Salon business idea in Pakistan

We see a huge number of local beauty salons in our native cities. We see that most of them are for ladies. There are only a few classy beauty salons for men. Why not introduce a modern beauty salon and introduce some fancy hair cuts? We see these barbers in the US and EU are innovating the industry. Why not follow the footsteps and make a fortune ourselves?

You see, a salon does a lot more than just a hair cut. You can introduce multiple services (keeping quality and innovation intact) and be a brand yourself. I have seen these videos of transformation where some creepy looking people are being transformed into very attractive professionals.

You can start this business yourself and hire certified people to work under your supervision. Make sure you beat your competitors in rates and quality of services.

This may not be a unique business idea in Pakistan itself, however, introducing unique and innovative services would definitely make it highly profitable. You just have to act wisely.

Requirements: A shop or an apartment. Education: Not required. Expertise Level: Mid-level. Time: Preferably morning to evening. Area: A market with higher traffic and lower competition.

Details of more business ideas in Pakistan Coming Soon

#household goods #marketing services

Business Ideas in Pakistan from 10 lakh to 20 lakh rupees

This scale of budget suits all the businesses we discussed in the previous tabs. The following businesses I am going to share with you are the ones that are only possible if you have an investment of 5 to 10 lakh rupees. Let’s get to the point then.

11- eCommerce with Amazon FBA

We have discussed the eCommerce business previously, right? This one is different. Amazon FBA (Fulfillment by Amazon) is a facility that Amazon provides to the customers. The facility includes maintaining the inventory, delivery and customer services on behalf of the vendors.

You are not familiar with this business idea in Pakistan because of a reason. Selling online on Amazon is not possible if you are a Pakistani citizen. However, FBA allows Pakistanis to use their platform.

The process includes sending all your products to the Amazon FBA office. Your inventory and delivery will be handled by Amazon. Your orders will be served from the USA to the customers in the USA or the target country you choose.

The reason it requires a budget of about 20 lakh is that FBA is an expensive process. It requires an initial 50,000PKR for setting up a company. The fixed monthly fee that starts from 40,000PKR and then the product dispatch that could cost somewhere near 12 to 16 lakh rupees.

If you need help related to this business, write your comments below and I will send you a complete roadmap.

12- Education Sector Business

You will have to think twice if this business suits you. I have seen a hell lot of talented youngsters who can make a difference in the education sector. If you are highly qualified, talented in a special way, have vision and exposure or are familiar with some modern techniques of teaching. You should start a business in the education sector. This is one of the safest business ideas in Pakistan.

Let me enlist the types and kinds of business ideas in the education sector.

i- Start a school. Not an ordinary one, present something special. Either hire someone with experience or do the research of modern-day schooling yourself. I have a bunch of friends with their kids who are schooled in Dubai. These schools were run by Indian administrators. Enmity aside, I was fairly impressed by the methods they used to teach their kids. These kids from class 5 were way sharper and knowledgeable than our FSs students. If you need further details about this business, just write in the comments and I will guide you.

ii- If not a school, you can start an academy. I am not talking about a regular FSs or CSS academy. These academies are already there in the market and most of them are not producing any results either. I am talking about something different. An academy that teaches skills. The skills that lead to a job in the market. This could be a better and more practical version of Digiskills. I am not against this academy or similar ones. But I will be honest, they are not teaching the kids anything. Most kids from these academies are as blank as those without their certificates.

iii- Your budget is not enough to start a university. It is, however, enough to start a technical institute. Unlike an academy, an institute could be affiliated with a university. This adds authenticity to your business. Start low and slow, start providing courses that get your students jobs. Focus on practical work and invest on the labs. You can beat Pakistan’s top institutes if you have the right approach. It would not be much difficult as the state of affairs in current institutes are messy.

13- Ridehaling with Uber or Careem

This is the business if you want to play safe and get a steady income of around 1 lack plus. Your budget of about 20 lacs is enough to enroll around 5 Mini cars or about 3 Go category cars in Careem or in Uber. One car would save an average of around 40 thousand PKR for you. This amount I mentioned is the actual profit that you get after paying your driver/captain and paying for the rest of the taxes, fuel and maintenance.

The hazards in this business are that these ride-hailing companies are available only in the major cities, though Careem has expanded to smaller cities as well but there is a chance that your city does not have this service. In this case, you have two options. Either move into another city or start a ride-hailing service of your own. If you have a small town or a small city, you can get things working pretty quickly. If you need help and guidance in starting your own ride-hailing business in Pakistan (a particular city) then you can write your email or contact in the comments below. I will recommend some of the experts in this field.

14- Stock Exchange Business

If you are thinking that the complexity of businesses is increasing with the budget. You are actually right. There is no point in investing 30 lacs for a homemade food delivery business. If you have more, you need to do more to start a business. Since this budget is enough to hire professionals, you do not need to worry about the skills.

The stock exchange might be an alien concept for many. Very few people tend to invest in the stock market and the major reason is that they do not understand this business.

If you are one of those who do not understand, you do not have to ignore this idea. There are agents that can invest on your behalf and can take care of the profits as well. All you would have to do is establish some PR and goodwill in the stock exchange and find someone who is good at investing.

Read about the shares, the latest spikes, and drops in the market, the parameters that affect the stock market and so on. This is just so you can find the right agent to invest your amount for you. If you go to the agents without basic knowledge, you might not get the profits you expected.

The graph below shows how good the Pakistan Stock Exchange performed in the year 2019. The current government is doing all it can to stabilize the country’s economy. This might be a good time to invest in the stock market before the shares go out of proportion and you are no longer capable of buying the expensive ones.

15- News Portal with Youtube and Web

This could be a novel idea for most of the readers. If you have not been looking at these growing YouTube channels in Pakistan, you would be surprised to see how much they actually earn on YouTube.

I have worked with a few news portals and YouTube channels to know that this business works pretty well every time. We have to take the basic steps with some caution though.

The idea is to create a website and a YouTube channel. Hire some writers for the website and a reporter or two for the YouTube channel. Start writing about the local news in your city and conduct some interesting interviews for your YouTube channels.

We have seen multiple TV channels that actually started their business with a website and a YouTube channel. Have you seen Urdupoint or DailyPakistan?

This business requires an initial setup cost of about 2 to 3 lakh and then a maintenance/running cost of about 1 lakh a month. You would be able to start earning in about 3 to 6 months depending on the quality of your work.

If you are interested in this business, write your name and email in the comments below, I have some fantastic people in my circle who can help you grow.

More business ideas in Pakistan coming soon

#agriculture – growing profitable items #crypto currency exchange #Import export #garments

Business Ideas in Pakistan from 30 lakh to 50 lakh rupees

Most people with this scale of investment are looking for something safe yet innovative. I can understand the feeling and can tell you that most innovative businesses are not safe. You have to hit and try as long as you tie the right knot.

15- Animation Studio

This is a billion-dollar business idea if you get it right. Have you watched cartoons in your childhood? What’s your favorite character? Tom, Sigma, Doremon, Motu Patlu, Commander SafeGuard, Super Man and a lot of these characters stormed the internet. If you can create an interesting character, send in some interesting videos to the internet using YouTube, you could be making millions in the first few months.

Animation studio creates animated movies or short clips. You do not have to create a complete movie in the first go. You need to work on a character first and then start creating short clips for YouTube.

An idea for such clips could be taken from any inspirational character from your childhood. Have you read “Imran Series“? It has enough content that could be highly additive for any age group. What about “Umro Ayar“? You will find dozens of these characters that most of us loved in our childhood. Millions of people would love to watch these stories online.

Perhaps, this would be a favor for the country as well. Promoting our culture and cultural characters will not only bring you a lot of respect, but you will also be rich very quickly.

If you are thinking about why you need about 5 million for this business. Just read the requirements below.

Requirements: At least 4 high tech desktop PCs that can process these heavy animations. A content writer, a director, and animation experts. Education: If you have the amount, you can find the experts. Basic education is enough. Expertise Level: Managerial skills and expertise required. Time: Any office hours that suit you and your employees. Area: Pakistan in the first phase, global in the second phase.

16- Model Institute in Parallel with Services Company

Oh boy! Do you have about 5 million rupees? Skip everything and start this business in Pakistan. This is by far the most profitable business idea in Pakistan if you like working offline.

Let’s focus on the steps and the core idea here.

i- Establish an institute on modern grounds and teach students the technical skills that would get them a job

ii- Hire local experts who can teach them the practical side of these courses

iii- Run a services company in parallel, use your own trained students to work for you on a commission basis or on a salary.

[ajartemis007]

AJ Imagine - Jujutsu Kaisen

The Death Painting - Noritoshi Katsumi (1)

When Noritoshi Kamo made his nine Death Paintings he found a runt in the mess, a little womb barely able to sustain it’s cursed energy. Kamo didn’t want any weak wombs to be a part of his collection so he decided to start his experiment with this one, a disposable womb.

Kamo decided to plant his womb.

He kidnapped a homeless woman who used to beg outside his temple and made her swallow the womb. (“Katsumi, please come inside. I have a delicious offering today. Don’t want to waste it so you might as well eat it”. Katsumi hit the ground after a couple of bites.)

The woman chocked and struggled but Kamo maintained his hold on her until she had swallowed the runt womb. Sensing no further movement from her, he decided to leave her for dead and buried her in the nearby woods.

In her grave, breathing in the dirt the newly formed curse started digging herself out as her natural features became distorted to give her inhuman beauty. The curse had no memories of her mother or Kamo. It walked through the forest until it found a brook and drank it’s fill. It looked down at the water and found a red haired, amber eyed woman staring back. She was beautiful and enchanting. She kept staring at her reflection only to be interrupted by her stomach rumbling. She was hungry, she needed to hunt for food.

As a demon her highly polished sense of smell led her to a hut in the forest. Smoke rose from a nearby fire as a man sat there stirring something in a pot. Cold and hungry Katsumi stared at him until he looked up to see her staring. He couldn’t look away, this woman was beautiful. Was she a forest spirit, a nymph? He saw her eyeing the pot and decided to make her an offering for his good health and success in hunt. He spooned out some of the broth and placed it on the ground near her feet carefully. Katsumi ate up hungrily. “Give me good health and success in hunt”, he prayed. “Why are you praying to me?”, she was surprised at this vibration and sound from her throat. She could speak.

“Aren’t you a forest spirit”?, he asked. “No”, Katsumi replied simply, setting down the empty bowl and looking at the pot expecting a second helping. “Well, eat up”, the man said. Katsumi moved forward and sat near the pot as the man spooned out more food for her. So she wasn’t a spirit with her usual red hair and amber eyes... what was she? A monster of some sort? Not unusual considering those weird noises he heard from that nearby temple. He was alert to every movement of hers now watching closely.

“I am not going to hurt you... yes, I can feel your fear. Don’t be afraid, I was just hungry”, Katsumi fixed her gaze on the man. “Are you a hunter?” “Yes”, he said, “I hunt for food and sell it in the market, I live alone here, no family”

Katsumi could feel his loneliness too clearly, almost as if it was her own feeling. She felt a rush of energy, a warmth she had not felt before. She suddenly felt powerful. She got up and decided to leave the man to his business, her hunger was satiated. He didn’t stop her as she walked away.

It was nightfall now as Katsumi wandered through the forest. She reached a river running through the forest and decided to rest there for the night under the moon.

A sudden rustle in the bushes made her sit up and look around. A beautiful deer stared back at her twitching its ears. It approached the water slowly and drank with it’s delicate tongue gulping down as fast as it could. Katsumi watched intently and a sudden purpose overtook her as she ran with inhuman speed towards the deer. She snatched it’s head savagely breaking it’s neck like a vicious predator.

Next morning when the hunter woke up he found a gorgeous deer on his porch with a cold Katsumi. “ A token of thanks for yesterday”, she muttered, not taking her eyes off him. “Well, good morning to you too. Umm and now that you are here have some breakfast with me”, he said with a chuckle. Who was she? He was definitely flabbergasted having a dead deer and a strange woman on his doorstep but it felt like ages since someone had done him any kindness.

“You never told me your name” he said as they gulped down a bowl of miso soup each. “What’s that?”, Katsumi looked at him confused. What’s a name? Now he knew for sure that this woman wasn’t an ordinary housewife you would find in the market each morning. She definitely had a screw loose but he felt no hostility from her. “A name is.. something they call you, address you with. Like my name, my name is Haruki, Kobayashi Haruki. And this is a bowl, the liquid it holds is called miso soup. See? everything has a name.”

“Haruki.... like someone born in spring?”

Haruki was taken aback at this. How did she know what his name meant but not her own name. “I know this woman is called Katsumi, but that’s her name not mine. I don’t have one”, she said calmly. A name was a sacred thing, she knew that. Even though she had Katsumi’s body, she wasn’t Katsumi. Haruki just stared, nothing she had said made any sense to him. He took a good look at her for the first time, tearing his eyes from her radiant face to her torn and ill kept clothes. She was poor. Life hadn’t been kind to her, no wonder she felt so distant from the world. Sadness overcame him as he stared at her.

“Why are you so unhappy?”, she said breaking his trance. He smiled sadly “How can you always tell what I feel. Only my mother always knew what i felt but when she passed away when i was little, my step mother threw me out of the house. Haven’t seen any of them ever since. Life hasn’t been kind to you either, but see? There’s hope. There’s always hope. You will find someone kind just like i found you”.

“I have already found you”, Katsumi said and felt a strange tugging at her lips and this beautiful feeling blossoming inside her. Kindness and love. “Why don’t you name me?”, she waited as Haruki thought and then he smiled suddenly. “Nozomi”, he breathed. “Nozomi”, she repeated as she let the smile spread across her face.

Well if you haven’t guessed already Haruki and Nozomi became companions and then transitioned to being lovers. They had a daughter and even after several tries never had another child. Haruki never found out what Nozomi was and he never cared. Nozomi loved him dearly and found that feelings made her stronger. She was a demon of feelings after all, a curse of emotions, Noritoshi Katsumi would only get stronger through the passage of time.

[esselley]

Kinktober #4: Knife Play 

Some story notes: this is set in my Zombie AU – in this verse, all humans are infected by the disease that turns people into Plaguewalkers, but are affected at different degrees. This determines a person’s “number”: 1 - 3 are slightly stronger humans. 4 - 6 have superhuman speed, strength, and resistance to damage. 7 - 9 are the most dangerous. 8s and 9s are barely human and addiction to human flesh, to kill or be killed by on sight.

Kageyama is a 3. Hinata is a 4 – or at least, he started off that way.

The weather is starting to get colder, and they still can’t find a place to stay.

Hinata doesn’t feel the chill as readily as Kageyama; at the back of his mind, he knows that he also feels it less than he did when they were younger. He’s not really sure why that’s the case, but he remembers how they used to both need to squash together for warmth, two tiny, big-eyed children depending on the kindness of strangers to allow them to edge near to their trashcan fires in the makeshift walls of a settlement.

No one wants to let them share now. For starters, they’re both too big, no longer children, though “adult” barely qualifies. That’s just a dumb term, though, Hinata thinks. They’re more adults than most adults. They take care of themselves outside any safe walls, without preying on other people, no matter their number.

Of course, that’s mainly because settlements won’t take them in anymore. And that’s most of the reason why, with winter bearing down on them, they’re faced with a problem.

“Oy!” Kageyama shouts, as the guard detail of yet another settlement slams a heavy metal gate shut in their faces. Kageyama slams his fists against it so hard it must hurt.

They jeer at Kageyama through the slats, as though he is the enemy, and not just some low number trying to find shelter. He’s harmless, trustworthy; but because of his travel companion, he’s locked out. Again and again.

Hinata doesn’t know why he keeps trying.

He spies movement, flicks his attention that way to see a crow’s nest overlooking the front of the settlement, then a gun barrel emerging.

Quickly, he grabs Kageyama’s arm, to pull him away. Kageyama is angry, tries to jerk out of his grasp, but Hinata doesn’t let him. He is smaller, but the disease inside him has selected him to be stronger.

“Let’s just go,” he mutters. “We’re not wanted.”

He lets Kageyama shake him off, this time; neither of them like being reminded about the gap.

“We’d let you in, Grumpy,” one of the men behind the gate says, “if you ditch the flesheater.”

Kageyama freezes, and Hinata swears, inwardly. He doesn’t give a crap what they call him, but Kageyama…

“What’d you say?” Kageyama asks. Hinata means to try and stop him, but then he says, “That’s it? All I have to do?”

Hinata doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t look at the gate, where the men laugh and mock him and tell Kageyama that yes, it’s that easy. Kageyama is only a Three, he’d do well among their ranks.

“Yeah, okay,” Kageyama says. “Here’s my answer.”

He unzips his pants and pulls his dick out, so he can piss all over their doorstep.

Hinata is torn between horror and laughter. A little bit of fondness, and more disgust.

“I’ll ditch him if you let me piss up your nose, you coward fuck—” Kageyama is threatening, still waving his dick about like there aren’t seven rifles trained on it, and Hinata decides it’s time to quit while they’re only a little bit behind.

“You are done,” he says, grabbing the back of Kageyama’s jacket and starting to walk, Kageyama dragged along in his wake. A bullet pings the ground near their feet but neither of them flinch, and Kageyama just sticks both middle fingers in the air. “Put your—put your penis away Kageyama, it’s going to get shot or catch frostbite—”

“Good, I’ll break it off and shove it up—”

“Trying to make me jealous?” Hinata asks him. “First you’re going to ditch me, then you’re going to jam your cock—”

“My detached, frozen cock, yeah,” Kageyama confirms, turning around to walk properly and zip up his pants. Hinata lets go of his jacket. “I wasn’t really going to ditch you. I’d’ve left after—”

“The nose peeing,” Hinata says.

“Yeah.”

They walk on in silence for a bit, the settlement receding behind them as they get further down the highway. Hinata knows Kageyama wouldn’t ditch him.

“They’d give you a space,” he murmurs. “Any one of these settlements. If you went without me.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees. “So what’d be the point?”

The point is, Hinata thinks exasperatedly, that you won’t freeze to death, and I’ll survive just fine.

“You’d be useless without me,” Kageyama grunts.

Since it both is and isn’t true, Hinata doesn’t argue.

It didn’t always used to be this hard. When they were younger, they’d been small and round and cute. Good people, the ones who still remain, want to help kids like that. It’s the only way society stays open for business, after the Ivory Plague nearly shut it down.

There’s always a few good people in every settlement; older folks who act hard but can’t help feeling soft; mothers who have lost too many children; young men who still think they are tougher than the world outside the walls and want to be hero worshipped.

Kageyama and Hinata stay inside during winters, but they always leave when the warmer weather comes. They both know staying in one place makes people slower, dulls their instincts. They would rather be prepared to run than hope a makeshift home holds. They never do.

But they get older, and people, even the good ones, get meaner. It’s not unexpected. No one gets by for free anymore, least of all them, but they have to prove their worth first. They’re athletic and, even better, their numbers are good.

Kageyama is a Three, hardy, strong, fast; he’s tall, too, and there’s something about his face that makes you trust it. Maybe the fact he’s naturally handsome, grew into his big round eyes and straight nose as they got older. Hinata has always been a little jealous, even though looks don’t matter that much, anymore. Well, not good looks, anyway; mad looks, hungry looks, red-rimmed eyes and paper-white skin—those are the appearances people are trained to look for, now.

Hinata may be smaller than Kageyama, but he knows Kageyama is jealous of him right back, because he’s a mid number. A Four, by the time they’d grown enough to tell, but as they got older, braver, stronger, even that was called into question. They discovered Hinata isn’t just strong, he’s superhuman strong. He’s taken bullets and been up and about the next day. He’s had limbs shattered and killed the men who broke them for their trouble. Their fault, not his.

They thought he was a Five, until earlier that year, when the settlements stopped wanting to let them in.

They were around each other every day, so they hadn’t noticed. But Hinata has gotten paler, over the years. The ringing around his eyes redder, his arms and legs skinnier, even while his physical capacities seem to increase without limitation.

Most settlements won’t let in anyone over a Five. Especially not an unfamiliar Six, uncollared and unchained, led about by nothing but another boy who claims he’s harmless, he’ll be helpful, he doesn’t get the cravings.

Hinata used to ask Kageyama why people never believed them. It was because people were stupid, Kageyama insisted, stupid and afraid of outsiders.

But as they are turned away again and again, and autumn becomes grey, Hinata stops asking. Because no matter what they thought Hinata was, he is changing.

They both try to think of it as becoming something more, and not less, and that makes things seem better.

It starts a few days after they get turned away by that last settlement—the one Kageyama peed on.

Hinata hasn’t been feeling right. His head has been throbbing nonstop, first a dull headache, now a stabbing pain at his temples that won’t go away no matter what he does. He feels nauseous, and heavy, the first time he can remember feeling unwell in… forever, almost.

The worst part is also the strangest. Hinata is hungry.

One of the perks of being a mid number is that he has more resistance to states a normal human body wouldn’t. He doesn’t need to sleep as often, he heals rapidly, and food is more a luxury than a necessity, which is fortunate, as scarce as it is.

But now Hinata feels it. A gnawing in his gut that won’t go away, even after he scarfs down some of their food from a past hunt, normally more than enough to sustain him. It’s getting worse, with the headaches, the dizziness. And there’s one other thing, about the hunger pangs.

The more painful they get, the more Hinata starts to notice that Kageyama looks… appetizing.

At first, he wonders if it’s something to do with sex. That’s not new, though, Hinata is used to feeling that way about Kageyama, he has for years and years now. This is different. This is actual hunger; the need to devour, to consume. It’s so strong that it eats away at Hinata, instead, makes him weak and sluggish.

But it can’t be what he’s afraid it is, it can’t, because Hinata isn’t a high number. He can’t be, he wasn’t born one, and people’s numbers don’t change… do they?

It’s worst when he’s around Kageyama, his mouth waters, his throat constricts, so he makes excuses to stay away. For the past few weeks, they’ve been holed up in a rundown rusty shell of a bus. The close quarters have not improved Hinata’s situation any.

The area they are staying in now is vaguely familiar—Hinata thinks they may have passed through before some years ago in their travels. It’s hilly and wooded, and the plant and animal life thrives, enough for a food source, though the oncoming winter makes things harder. This isn’t entirely unwelcome, currently, as it gives him an excuse to stay away longer, as he searches for prey.

He moves silently, watchfully. Kageyama is better at the long wait; Hinata is less patient. He usually chases his target down. He is nearly faster than them, and they get tired. He doesn’t.

Movement in the brush catches his eye and he darts toward it, as the deer spots him and tries to flee. He doesn’t give it a chance. Moments later, it lays dead at his feet, its neck broken. He always does it as fast as possible. He doesn’t like to think of how frightened the animals are, or that they might be in pain. He’s experienced both too many times himself.

Now, typically, comes the preparation; sometimes they might lug the whole carcass back to camp if they are secure in their surroundings, or quarter it and transport it that way, if they feel like they may need to be prepared for fight or flight on their journey back. Hinata stares down at the deer, wondering what to do.

He stares, and stares, and suddenly he realizes he’s on his knees, hunched over it, mindless with starvation—and at the back of his mind he knows what he’s doing, what he’s about to do, some part of him realizes that this is not right, this is not human—but no one is all human, anymore, and he angles his head down, to take the first bite—

“Shouyou,” a voice says, not a question nor a condemnation, and Hinata freezes.

Then, jerky and lightning quick, he turns on Kageyama. Kageyama doesn’t stand a chance—he’s knocked down before he can move or defend. He doesn’t even try.

Hinata crawls over him slowly. It’s strange—up close, he can smell Kageyama, but it’s not like when he smells something good to eat. Kageyama smells like Kageyama, and the deer smelled like wild animal; ordinary, commonplace smells. But he’s hungry all the same, mouthwateringly so, mouth wet with saliva, dripping. He leans down, staring fixed and unblinking at Kageyama’s face. Where should he start…?

Kageyama reaches up, and rests his palm against Hinata’s cheek.

“You idiot,” he says.

This is stronger than the twisting in Hinata’s stomach.

“No,” Hinata croaks out. His voice comes out cracked and broken. He sits back, sits away from Kageyama, pushes himself off to the side so that he’s not as near to him anymore. “No, no,” he moans, curling in on himself, out of shame and fear.

“Hinata—”

“Don’t come near me,” Hinata rasps. “Do you—I was about to—”

“I know,” Kageyama says.

“I would have—”

“I know,” Kageyama repeats. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Hinata hugs his knees to his chest. “Because I just want it to stop.”

“I don’t think it will,” Kageyama says, because he’s always been honest. “Not until we feed you.”

“The deer.” Hinata sniffs, and wipes his nose. “I can—I can eat it raw—”

Kageyama shakes his head. “Better idea. Give me your knife.”

He holds out his hand and Hinata looks at him questioningly, but does as he says. He has a pocketknife he always carries on him, just in case. But when Kageyama rolls up his sleeve, forearm held out in front of him and the knife lowering carefully, Hinata is jolted out of his stupor.

“Tobio, no!” he gasps, but Kageyama ignores him.

“Relax,” he says, “I have an idea.”

Kageyama’s spur of the moment ideas vary from practical to terrible, and Hinata doesn’t relax in the slightest. But Kageyama makes a thin, shallow cut on his forearm, and his blood wells up from it, rich red. He stretches his arm toward Hinata, who recoils.

“Come on,” Kageyama coaxes. “It’s not like I’m going to let you drink all of it.”

“What if I drink too much, though?” Hinata asks.

“I’ll punch you if I start feeling lightheaded,” Kageyama tells him, like that solves it entirely. It really doesn’t, but Hinata is starving.

He grips Kageyama’s arm gingerly and raises it to his lips, to press his lips to his bleeding flesh. He’s kissed Kageyama plenty of times before—soft and slow, hard and insistent, scared and trembling. But this, this is something else.

Kageyama’s blood tastes harsh and metallic on his tongue, but the instant Hinata swallows it down, it lessens his headache by half. He’s practically forgotten what it feels like, not having that pounding, pounding, pounding in his skull and he moans in relief and gratitude. He’s still terrified; that this is working, that feeding on another human—on Kageyama—is the solution to the cravings. How will he ever resist now that he knows how it feels, to lap at Kageyama’s blood and feel his pain ease so quickly, like it was never there to begin with? Is resisting even possible?

He shudders, whining, and slides his tongue in a slow line over Kageyama’s skin, intending that to be the end. His stomach has nearly stopped hurting, and the dizziness is gone.

“Shou,” Kageyama murmurs, and Hinata looks at him, all too conscious of the wet trail that drips from his mouth, Kageyama’s blood sticky and hot on his lips and chin.

Kageyama is staring at him with an odd, affected expression. His eyes are dazed and heavy lidded, and Hinata worries that he drank too much already. But Kageyama reaches a hand out to stroke fingers through his hair.

“I’m fine,” he says. “You don’t have to stop yet.”

“Too dangerous,” Hinata says, though he wants more, he could have more.

“I don’t care about that,” Kageyama says. “I don’t like you staying away from me, either.”

Oh, Hinata thinks, staring at him. He doesn’t even have time to wipe his mouth clean, before Kageyama leans in to kiss him. His lips linger, his own blood is smeared across them, when he speaks next.

“Take more from me,” he whispers, and Hinata feels a much more familiar, more welcome surge of need.

He’s been avoiding Kageyama more and more the past few weeks. The thought that whatever was happening to him might have meant he’d need to leave Kageyama completely—it must show in his eyes, because Kageyama grabs his face between both hands and kisses him again, painfully hard.

Hinata twists his hands into Kageyama’s jacket, holding tight. He has only the barest, vaguest memories of family before Kageyama. That’s how young he was when they found each other, both of them alone. They’ve never had anyone else.

“Eat more, stupid,” Kageyama says, knocking his forehead against Hinata’s in admonishment. He lowers his hands from Hinata’s face to roll up his other sleeve, but Hinata shakes his head.

“Not there… m-maybe…” He bites his lip, wondering if Kageyama will think he’s disgusting, if this request will be too weird, too wrong.

“Where, then?”

Hinata looks at him pleadingly. “Can you lie back?”

Somehow, Kageyama doesn’t think it’s wrong. Hinata supposes Kageyama has always been strange anyway, noticeably so, even though everyone they meet is strange in some way or another. But Kageyama has always had an odd set of moral rules, at least as far as Hinata is concerned. Somehow, he always make sure Hinata gets what he wants.

With Kageyama lying on his back on the hard earth, Hinata finds it easier to touch him, lift Kageyama’s layers of clothes from his stomach to run the cold tip of his nose over Kageyama’s abdomen, the line of his hip bones. Now he smells good—the aroused kind of good, that makes Hinata shiver. He nips at Kageyama’s hips, not to break the skin, but to stimulate him, and Kageyama gives him a soft sigh.

He drags Kageyama’s pants down with little resistance, not far—only a little ways down his thighs, so he won’t get too cold. But there may not be any danger of that. Kageyama is already getting heated; skin warm, cock starting to stir with interest. Hinata is worried it might start to flag if he resumes his earlier attempts, but Kageyama senses his hesitance right away.

“Come on,” he says. “I told you it’s fine already, how many times do I—”

Hinata growls in annoyance, leaning his weight on Kageyama’s thigh with one hand as he grabs his knife with the other.

“You’re a jerk,” he says. “As though this is just some normal, everyday—”

“I know it’s fucking not,” Kageyama scoffs. “I don’t give a shit. You should have said something, that's—” He shakes his head. “That’s what we do, Hinata.”

Hinata stares at him. It’s an odd moment, to feel shaken by the weight of clarity. Kageyama is glaring at him fiercely, but his pants are still down, and he’s still got a half-boner going, and he’s scolding Hinata, who certainly almost would have happily gnawed on some of his vital organs just a few moments ago. He’s reminding Hinata of the reason they’ve survived this long.

They always trust each other.

Because it’s still too hard to admit, most of the time, when Kageyama is more right than he is, Hinata says, “Yeah.” Kageyama’s mouth pinches, and Hinata adds, hurriedly, “I get it!”

Kageyama huffs, and gestures with his hands, staring up at the sky. Hinata raises an eyebrow at him. Now that the initial awfulness of the situation is over, and he can push any thoughts of future issues to the back of his mind, it’s easier to focus on other matters.

He flips his pocketknife over in his hand, an easily practiced gesture—blade spinning before the handle lands safely back in his palm. He learned this trick years ago much to Kageyama’s annoyance. Kageyama says he just does it to look “badass”. Well, duh.

“How come you’re enjoying this…” he murmurs, laying the flat of the knife blade against Kageyama’s leg. He slides it over the skin, and Kageyama’s thigh  twitches, that big, strong muscle jumping under the metal.

“Who said I was?” Kageyama fires back.

Hinata runs his thumb up the vein on the underside of Kageyama’s cock, and watches it twitch, too. Kageyama grits his teeth.

“Not enjoying it at all,” Hinata hums.

He’s a little scared, still, when he turns the blade. Scared, when he makes the smallest, shallowest cut on Kageyama’s thigh, halfway up, where the meat is thick. He’s cut flesh plenty of times with this knife, but never Kageyama.

Kageyama hisses, but it can’t have hurt him—barely. He’s felt real injuries before. Hinata still glances up at him, eyes wide, and Kageyama nods at him.

This time when he tastes Kageyama, he gets more than the tang of iron. He gets sweat and Kageyama’s warmth and a hand sliding into his hair, goading him on, not pushing him away.

It might not be in entirely the same context as usual, but Hinata is not oblivious to how much Kageyama likes this, Hinata’s mouth on him here where he’s so sensitive. He is careful with the knife as he fills his mouth with Kageyama, feels the actual strength in his body return as he drinks him down, laves his tongue in slow strokes over the cut and then up Kageyama’s trembling thighs.

He drifts the blade of the knife higher, so light across Kageyama’s skin that it doesn’t so much as nick him, until he’s dangerously close to where he really wants to put his mouth.

“Careful,” he warns. His voice is rough.

“I know what I’m doing!” Hinata says, a little too eagerly.

When he cuts Kageyama’s thigh this time, it’s slower, less hesitant. He glances up to see Kageyama is watching, head raised, attention rapt. His eyes track the line of red as it wells up from the cut, droplets squeezing out, round pinpricks quivering from the tiny vibrations caused by his own shivers.

Hinata keeps his eyes on Kageyama’s face as he leans in, the tip of his tongue darting out to gently burst the surface tension of the drops so they finally roll and trickle over Kageyama’s leg. He gets the precious liquid before it can escape, blocking it with his fingers in some cases, tongue swirling, spit and blood and sweat mixing. Kageyama’s eyes flutter. He reaches out, rubs his thumb over Hinata’s chin to catch a stray drop of blood, and Hinata snags his thumb with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Kageyama whispers.

He doesn’t hate it. He’s not disgusted; far from it. He’s never said it, but Hinata has known since forever that Kageyama likes being needed. Likes to be what Hinata needs.

Hinata ducks down and fastens his mouth to the cut, sucking hard, and Kageyama rolls his hips up into his face. Hinata is actually starting to feel—amazingly, wonderfully—full.

It smears crimson when he finally drags his lips across Kageyama’s hips, before settling at the base of his cock, which is thick and hard now, red with blood. Hinata isn’t after blood anymore, though (which is probably fortunate for Kageyama).

He kisses Kageyama all the way up to the tip, open-mouthed and wet, and Kageyama exhales heavily. Hinata has set the knife aside, strokes his hip bones reassuringly as he rubs his lips over the head of Kageyama’s cock.

“Stop trying to make it up to me,” Kageyama mumbles. “I told you it was fine.”

“I know,” Hinata says. He wasn’t trying to make anything up to Kageyama, not really. He just wants him to feel good.

Judging by the sounds Kageyama makes when Hinata finally takes him in his mouth, he manages pretty well. He even earns himself a hard-won moan when he sinks as low as he can get, though the cry is soft and stifled by Kageyama’s palm.

“Close,” Kageyama pants, “do you want—”

Hinata shakes his head, hums around him, and Kageyama breaks off into breathless swearing. He wants to reciprocate, Hinata knows, but one of the less exciting things about Hinata’s physiology is how difficult it is for him to get and sustain an erection.

But that doesn’t matter. The entirety of his focus now is on Kageyama, on devouring Kageyama in every way he can, specifically the whole of his cock, and Hinata swallows, throat tightening around him.

He pulls off as Kageyama’s hips roll and he shudders violently, keeps his hungry little mouth open as Kageyama comes so he can watch it splash over Hinata’s lips and tongue. It makes Kageyama groan, which makes Hinata grin, and more of it gets on his face than in his mouth. He doesn’t mind.

When Kageyama finally flops backwards into the ground with a thud, Hinata crawls closer until their heads are at the same level and he can stare at Kageyama’s face.

“What,” Kageyama asks, without opening his eyes.

“You know what,” Hinata says.

“It felt really good,” Kageyama responds.

“Not that—”

Kageyama’s hand shoots out, and Hinata finds himself being yanked down, faceplanting into Kageyama’s chest.

“There’s nothing else to say,” Kageyama grunts.

Hinata is quiet, momentarily. He shifts, scooting to press up against Kageyama’s side. They need to move—they need to pull up Kageyama’s pants. They need to get back to their bus shelter.

“What’s happening to me?” Hinata asks.

Kageyama’s arm slides around his shoulders. It’s a comforting weight.

“I don’t know. But,” he says, “just blood was enough. So your number can’t be all that high. Whatever it is.”

That’s true. But a year ago, Hinata had never had cravings in his life. Something is still changing.

“We’ll just figure it out,” Kageyama says with a shrug. “We always have so far.”

“Yeah,” Hinata mumbles. Kageyama’s arm squeezes, very briefly. Then,

“Okay, come on,” he grunts, “my dick is freezing off.”

Hinata splutters. “Whose fault is that, Hornyama? I can’t believe you got off on that!”

Kageyama grabs his head painfully hard. “I’ll kill you.”

Hinata squawks and struggles, and for the moment, everything seems okay. Some things are changing, yes. But others, it seems, will always stay the same.

More kinktober? You’re really living on the edge…

[alienbreadtooru]

Always- Alex!Harry

So this is my first installment of the Alex inspired Harry fic and I hope you like it very much. I had loads of fun writing it! I’d like to thank @oh-styles @trulymadlysydney @druggedaiquiri for their continuous support. 

Caution: Do not read this if you haven’t seen the film but that’s up to you. I’ll try and keep the spoilers to a minimum but caution is required.

Note: Although I used Alex’s surname as Dawson, Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance’s character) and Alex are not related in this fic.

This is more like an introduction to the actual one shot.

Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated,xx.

She always knew he was going to do something with his life, make it worthwhile and meaningful. She knew from the beginning of their relationship that all he wanted was to make his mum proud and happy that he was her son.  She met him when they were in secondary school, being at the tender age of 16 both of them were bright eyed and hopeful about the future despite the obstacles and the hardships they knew they were bound to face. After all living in 1935 wasn’t exactly a joy ride.

Alex was 19 years old when he went and signed himself up in the British Army. It was always his dream and goal in life to do something for his country, he wanted people to be proud and talk praises of him behind his back. He wanted people in his town to point to him and be happy to tell others that he was from their town or he was a friend or maybe even a neighbour. He and Y/N were fresh out of college and while she went and got herself a job at the local bakery, having always been interested in cooking and baking, he went and enrolled himself to dedicate his life to his country. If there was one thing he was certain about, it was his job; always wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father who was a Captain in the army and died in battle when Alex was just four years old.

He was raised by his mother, Elaine, who worked day in and day out as a teacher at the local primary school to put three full meals on the table for the two of them.  He could only hope that someday he could be perceived as a person who was as strong and brave as she was, raising a child alone in a society where a woman without a man was not digested well is not simple task. He knew she faced a lot of criticism from various people but she always put on a brave face for him and made sure he had as normal a childhood as possible.

-X-

It was the April of 1938 when he enrolled himself, bright eyed Alex knew he had a lot more to go through before he found himself fighting in the battlegrounds, the real life experience being more daunting than the ones he had read about in his history textbooks at school. He wanted to be able to give back to his mother who spent all her time and energy making sure he had a good home environment and childhood despite the harsh conditions outside but he also wanted to be able to provide for Y/N who promised to love him with all her heart and wait for him to come back no matter what it takes until officers showed up at her doorstep to deliver some bad news and maybe even then she’d love him.

He had to go through six months of rigorous and tiring training before he was given the title of a Private and he couldn’t have felt happier . He was finally a soldier, he was Private Alexander James Dawson and he couldn’t have been prouder of himself, he just hoped his father would have been too. 

For the first couple months from November of 1938 to May of 1939 he worked near the cost of various cities all through the United Kingdom. Y/N didn’t see him very often, once every couple months if she was lucky but he did send her letter almost every other week, never failing to remind her of how much he loved her.  They wrote to each other regularly, she told him about her job at the bakery and kept him up to date with all the latest town gossip and he told her about how good it was to have finally come as close to fulfilling his dreams as possible. For the nights where she longed for him and wished foe nothing but to have her lover’s arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace, she kept in mind the conversation they had before he was sent off for his duties.

“You know I love you sweetheart, don’t you?” He held her face in his palms tenderly, fingers skimming over her delicate cheekbones to collect the tears that kept cascading down. He had a small frown on his face, his brows furrowed as lips formed a little pout being unable to take the sadness in his girl’s eyes. The moisture in her doe eyes made him a little anxious and tearful but he knew he had to be strong for her. 

His bags were packed, filled with essentials but also little memorabilia that reminded him of his loved ones and would help him keep them close although not in person. She came by his house before she left for the bakery, she didn’t care if she was going to go in late but Alex was not leaving without saying goodbye to her and God forbid she thinks of this as being the last time she saw him, the thought alone makes her shudder.

Her arms were wrapped around his waist holding on firmly to the cotton of his shirt, scared that he would disappear if she let go. She nodded meekly to his question, of course she knew he loved her and she could only hope it was as much as she loved him. She presses her cheek further into his chest, gripping him a little tighter as she tries to muffle her sobs, not wanting him to see her become a wreck in front of his eyes. She’ll miss him terribly she realizes as she tries to memorize his scent for what may be the last time for a couple of months, maybe even an year, having no guarantee that he’ll come back or if he even will but she chooses not to think of that. 

“I love you, Alex. So much.” She whispers under her breathe as she stands on her tip toes to press one last kiss against his raspberry lips, memorizing the softness of their texture and the way his hands squeeze her waist to keep her company in her memories for the many nights to come.

-X-

It was during the July of 1939 when she came home tired from the bakery after having done a late night’s shift that an unexpected surprise awaited her. She had been taking home leftovers from the bakery every night now that the war was fully fledged into position and food and basic commodities were scarce, the rationing had begun, only the well off and the ones who made sufficient money to sustain a proper lifestyle were able to afford buying goods regularly. The owner of the bakery, June Bennet, a middle aged lady in her early fifties was kind enough to let her employees take home the leftover at half the price that they were being sold for.

Y/N came home with a small brown paper bag in her hands that contained a loaf of bread and a couple of sweet buns along with a pint of milk that she hoped would last her throughout the week and maybe some of the next too. She was surprised to find bags placed in the doorway of her bedroom and the sound of rustling in the bathroom alerted her to the possibility of an intruder in her house. She walked with caution into the bathroom where she heard the water running and the silhouette of a man caught her attention. She pulled back the curtains thinking she’d find a stranger but was surprised to see the startled figure of the love of her life before her, his hair dripping from his long lashes and an expression that mirrored one of a deer caught in the headlights on his face.

Tears pooled at her eyes as she glanced at him and in a heartbeat or maybe less she was in his arms hugging the life out of him as sobs wracked through her body not even paying an ounce of attention to the fact the she was now soaked to the bone. Alex’s arms wrapped strong around her as he nuzzled his face in her neck feeling equally as emotional as her. He couldn’t believe that she was here, in his arms with her hands clutching him for her life. She was real and he couldn’t comprehend that after all the time he spent looking forward to seeing her and going home to her, she was finally here.

“What are you doing here, Alexander? Weren’t you off for duty? She was curious, as happy as she was that he was in her presence again, she knew him coming home would have a hidden meaning.

He fidgeted a little bit, nervous and not knowing how to tell her the reason for his sudden arrival. The letter that contained the news that he was supposed to tell her lay in his bag as a constant reminder of all the pain his words were going to cause her, the words it contained weighing down on his heart.

“Why do you go and sit down, love? I’ll just finish washing meself and be right with you.” 

She nodded as she stepped out, words escaping her. She changed out of her wet clothing putting them out to dry in the balcony. The atmosphere had changed drastically in her little flat; the happiness she once felt at the return of her lover was replaced with the anxiety of his impending news.

She was alerted of his presence when she heard the clearing of his throat behind her, turning around to face him with furrowed brows. She couldn’t help but step closer to him, wanting his comforting presence after being denied it for so many months. She rested her hands on his shoulder as she reached up to press a kiss to his lips, the simple gesture spreading warmth in her heart.  He pressed himself closer to her as his mouth put a little more pressure on hers, the taste of her kiss being one of the many things he missed about her.

“Is everything okay, Alex?” She whispered as she pulled back, her forehead resting against his whilst locked in his embrace. He didn’t know how to tell her that everything was not alright and if things went wrong, he was not sure they’d ever be. He sighed dejectedly knowing that he’d have to tell her eventually and better sooner than later is what he figured.

“They’re sending me to Dunkirk, sweetheart. And I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Tears pooled her eyes at his admission, Dunkirk? That was in France, wasn’t it? Why would he go there?  The question in her mind drove her crazy making her lose sight of her surrounding for a minute, the anxiety that washed over her made her dizzy as all the possibilities ran through her mind.

“Dunkirk? Why are you going there, Alex? Is everything okay?”

“Sweetheart, they’re sending me off to war.” He sighed, knowing that her heart was breaking in front of his own tow eyes. He wanted to console her, he really did but who is to guarantee that he won’t lose his life? Who is to say that he’ll come home safe and sound? Who is to say that he’ll come home? But he knew he had to be strong for her so he gripped her cheeks in his hands the same way he did the first time he left and tried his best not to let his emotions consume him.

“Hey, darling look at me for a second okay? I know what you’re thinking and I know it’s scary but I promise you that nothing will keep me away from you, okay? Nothing will stop me from loving you not even the bloody world war. I promise that I’ll come back to you. I always will, you’re my home remember? It’s you and I, forever. And ‘sides you have my mum here and she loves you so much sometimes more than she love me. She’s always here for you.”

Y/N had tears streaming down her face at an uncontrollable rate as she looked into the deep jade irises that she had fallen so much in love with. She nodded her head in affirmation at his soothing words. She was scared but she knew she loved him and she knew she would wait for him no matter how long or what it takes, she promised him that when he enrolled himself an year and half ago.

“Do you promise? That you will come back to me? For me? No matter what?”The innocence in her eyes made him let out a soft chuckle as he kissed her on the forehead before resting his against it.

“Always.”

-X- 

[thesimplyluxuriouslife]

280: The Importance of Daily and Weekly Rituals & Routines You Love (12 Ideas to Incorporate Now)

"You would think weightlessness is a good thing, but it's not. Because people weren't meant to float. Without gravity, we lose blood volume, bone density, muscle. Without it, we're untethered. So when you feel yourself being pulled toward something, it's not necessarily a bad thing. It may keep you centered. It may keep you safe." —Grey's Anatomy, season 16, episode #17, Shonda Rhimes

Thoughts, thoughts, all sorts of thoughts. With an abundance of time on our hands as we stay home, if we have not exercised our brains in this way, it may feel uncomfortable, and in these times we find ourselves collectively, understandably unsettling.

The above quote caught my attention this past week as it feels our attentions are being being pulled toward the necessities of life, what we sincerely need to simply live. Don't get me wrong, the past eleven years, economically, have been much needed and appreciated, and while each of our journey's is unique, perhaps we've forgotten what we truly need, what others truly need, to live well. At the moment, we are all being pulled to our homes, to our sanctuaries, to our immediate families with whom we reside with but perhaps never see often because of our busy schedules. Admittedly, some of our loved ones may be far away due to age, relationships, work, etc., but we at least have the phone, video chat and other technological ways of communicating.

Becoming grounded in what roots us, is what reminds us of what truly is a priority in our life, helps us to make better decisions to remain true to those values when the choices are vast. And sometimes when the choices are so vast and so ubiquitous for such a long time, we would only be being human to lose sight of our roots. I am not suggesting that we need to have a pandemic to root us, but that is where we find ourselves, so I am determined to see some good in this perilous situation.

There will be good that will come out of it when we come out of it on the other side, but as well, there is good we can partake in during this time of staying home.

Today, while I had originally planned a different topic for the episode to be shared, I have decided to focus on something that will hopefully be helpful to direct our attention to, to elevate the time we have indoors, wanted or unwanted. The gift and mood lifting power of daily and weekly rituals.

Under the umbrella of daily and weekly rituals lies our daily and weekly routines. Consciously creating routines in which we know boost the quality of our lives from our health, to our rest and rejuvenation to our productivity are ways to rest more easily which benefits our mind and well-being and decreases our stress. Each of these efforts strengths our immune system and ultimately strengthens our overall health, both physically and mentally.

Today I would like to share with you rituals you can incorporate into your daily and weekly routine even while you stay home.

1.Wake up well

Design a morning routine in which regardless of whether you are heading out the door (when our routines get back to normal) or staying home, you want to get out of bed and partake in. In episode #243 I share 12 Ways to Make Your Mornings Magical, Mindful and the Foundation of a Great Day.

2. Create a daily routine you love

As I shared with my students what would be expected of them while we stepped into our extended break (Oregon has announced they will be closing all schools through the entire month of March.), one student immediately decided she would find a favorite place she enjoyed being, give herself this window during her day to complete her schoolwork and then be done. I was so tickled to hear such thoughtful and conscientious attention to both her academics, but also her well-being by compartmentalizing and stepping away from work so she could relax and just be.

All of us, whether at home, and especially now that we are home, would benefit from creating a schedule in our day for productivity, but also meals, rest and exercise. Knowing we have accomplished something will let us rest more easily and make it easier to sleep at night. As well, we will be giving our bodies and mind a healthy balance to remain strong.

3. An afternoon brain break

Whether you enjoy an afternoon tea or an afternoon nap or an afternoon outside exercising, create a ritual that will be something you look forward to as you make your way through your day. If you are like me, and live alone, this may be a good time to call loved ones to check in. If you live with others, it may be a great time to be together if you are busy doing your own thing throughout the day. Either way, make a point of intentionally not doing work, but rather something relaxing and enjoyable. Something that elevates the everyday even more so that each day you look forward to such moments.

4. Welcome the flowers

I shared on Instagram yesterday (see below) how one of the items on my grocery list this weekend (I went early and wore gloves as well as washed my hands before and after) was to welcome a few bouquets of flowers into my home. Recent researched has shared that having fresh flowers can "lower blood pressure and heart rate, lower ratings of pain, anxiety, and fatigue, and more positive feelings and higher satisfaction [about one's home]". So while, we need to stay home as much as possible, if possible keeping in my sanitation requirements, welcome some flowers into your home and perhaps bring a bouquet for your neighbor and leave them on their doorstep with a note. You may help their health more than you realize.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B9wz7UJHcOY/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

5. What to listen to? What brings you joy.

Create a listening ritual that carries you through your day. From the classical music I wake up to on WRTI with host Gregg Whiteside and Breakfast with Bach at 5am to the jazz in the evenings from my Spotify playlist, as well as podcasts about food and France enjoyed while I walk the dogs along the river, around the neighborhood or through the trees, what we turn on melodically has a tremendously powerful effect over our well-being. Choose what you love and let it elevate your days.

Music I listen to:

WRTI - classical and jazz

KUSC - classical

TSLL playlists

Escape to France . . .

Luxurious Classical Music (more than 10 hours of music)

Everyday Jazz

French Cafe Jazz (no lyrics)

Jazzy Dinner playlist (Spotify)

Podcasts I have been loving recently:

The Land of Desire (French history and culture)

MilkStreet Radio

Inside Julia's Kitchen

The Splendid Table

6. Fitness Habits That Energize

The key to sustainable exercise routines is to keep them seemingly small, yet consistent and intentional. As I shared in the first episode of 2020 on the podcast, #272, 8 Ways Tiny Habits Will Welcome the Great Changes You Seek, tiny habits have a powerful way of instituting the change we desire. Why? Because they are more likely to stick, and truly become habituated into our daily routine.

From waking up and doing one set of sit-ups (by the end of the week you will have done five sets!), to meditating for one minute each morning, to sipping a glass of water upon waking up in the morning, when you choose thoughtfully the habits you want in your life, reduce them down to seemingly so small, there is no reason not do the task, and before you know it, as you see the positive change, you won't want to reduce your effort and may even want to increase it.

So as we find ourselves with more time at home and being unlikely to attend our favorite fitness class or gym, find exercise habits at home that will fulfill the exercise routine you need, but in a way that you enjoy. I am shifting my weekly yoga classes to a YouTube yoga instructor for the time being (but I cannot wait to return to the yoga studio), and my walks will be where I can keep my social distance at a healthy length from others, for their sake as well as mine.

7. Create an evening ritual for winding down before going to bed

Something I look forward to every day, weekday or weekend, is my evening routine. After the work on the blog has been completed, after dinner has been made and savored, it is this hour or two before I drift off to sleep that is priceless. My dogs as well have become accustomed to our routine and even though they do not know the time of day we humans live by, they know when bedtime is near.

From calming down the house, dishes washed, kitchen cleaned, work put away, to lighting a candle in the living room, turning on a pre-taped show or picking up a book or magazine I want to slip away to for a while, these simple activities tell my mind it is safe to rest, to relax, to be done for the day. All the while sipping some tea and nibbling on a piece of chocolate truffle, the ultimate signal to my body and brain that the day is done.

8. Be Conscientious About Your Daily News Intake

Going along with #5, what media we choose to be part of our daily routines has a profound effect on our mental health. I shared and encouraged my students to limit their news intake as it can easily overwhelm us. I did not suggest sticking their head in the sand and ignoring the news, but rather choose one or two times a day in which you check in with a credible news source, and then go about your day.

9. Work space set-up

Cultivate a welcoming work space whether it is temporary or where you work on a normal workday. Provide a clean work desk (check out this post - 10 Ways to Make Your Desk Space Efficient and Inspiring), welcome the natural light, reduce unhelpful distractions and decorate or rearrange in such a way to beckon you to work well.

10. Befriend water

Choose to bring and drink water with you throughout the day. Staying hydrated has oodles of benefits, but on the immunity side of things, it will help rid your body of toxins. Even if I am enjoying my regular cup of tea in the morning, afternoon or evening, I regularly will have a glass of water as well or have my Hydroflask full of water if I am out walking (it is in my car for when I return). Cultivating this habit will satiate your appetite, refresh your body and elevate many arenas of your life that we take for granted.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BzGjIGCABD7/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

11. Turn your ideas into gold

Yes, William Shakespeare may have written King Lear during his quarantine tenure in the 16th century, and while we may not produce such masterpieces, we can use this time let our creative ideas run free so that we have time to see what they want to reveal. Keep a notebook or small journal handy and write down what pops into your mind. You may be able to tend to the idea now or it may be an idea you can implement later, but either way, it will be a positive exercise to focus on positive, hopeful, inspired things. Our mind is a muscle, and it finds the tracks we repeat again and again. So practice thinking in such a way that lifts you up, gets you excited and who knows where your creative thoughts will take you.

As for me, I am planning TSLL's upcoming British Week (the third full week in May), pulling together April 1st's TSLL's Spring Shopping Guide and whatever else wishes to reveal itself to me. :) Excited to see what I will discover. Have fun!

12. Incorporate regular self-care and model it for others in your life

That hot bath you used to take infrequently, but love and look forward to deeply . . . take it regularly, every week, every other day, but make it a ritual you look forward as well as savor when you slip into the hot bubble bath of comfort. Last year, I shared 31 Ways to Practice Self-Care, episode #242, and as I shared in this episode, while the bubble baths and other pleasures are certainly part of this regular self-care routine, self-care needs to go deeper. When self-care goes deeper, it has even more powerful and long-lasting positive effects on our life. Be sure to check out the show notes and/or episode for much more information on this topic.

The current situation in which we find ourselves is unprecedented in our times, but it has the potential to reveal a tremendous amount about our strengths, compassion and ability to rise in ways we may not have known we were capable. I am confident that while the unknown has the potential to paralyze, it can also teach us an abundance about ourselves, those around us, the world and then reveal to us what we should truly be focused on for a better world moving forward.

SIMILAR POSTS/EPISODES YOU MIGHT ENJOY:

The Benefit of Daily Rituals

Why Not . . . Establish Weekend Rituals?

34 Inspiring Daily Rituals to Ignite Your Creativity, episode #255

Petit Plaisir:

~Begin to cultivate a candle cupboard/closet.

I first learned of this idea from Queer Eye's Tan France when during his tour of his home for Architectural Digest he opened up a small closet (I would call it a cupboard) and shared his stocked candles. Now, mind you, my current Candle Cupboard has two candles in it waiting to be enjoyed, but as I come across candles that I love, if they are on sale, I purchase one or two more than I normally would. I don't expect my Candle Cupboard to ever be as full as Tan's, but I love this idea as a Petit Plaisir.

My Candle Cupboard is only barely stocked, but I love this idea and will continue to add to it as my budget and sales and treasures are found. Thank you Tan for sharing this wonderful idea!

~The Simple Sophisticate, episode #280

~Subscribe to The Simple Sophisticate: iTunes | Stitcher | iHeartRadio | YouTube | Spotify

Tune in to the latest episode of The Simple Sophisticate podcast

[fishbians]

Mother Midnight (1/?)

The Witch has lived in relative peace and quiet for the past few decades - save for an incident with a basilisk here, a kelpie there. Occasionally a rabid werewolf, or, once, a more problematic (but nevertheless solvable) issue with a clever loup-garou.

When vampirism begins to creep into the crevices of the land of Westmoor, infecting its citizens quietly but relentlessly, the Witch sees it in her best interest to figure out the source of the disease.

The Witch knows quite well she is equipped with both the power and knowledge to destroy the root of the issue...but does she have the heart to?

(Gore CW. Read also on AO3!)

The Witch had encountered all manner of creature and monster in her long, quiet life. She knew of their presence, knew when they crept too close to the little town down the road, knew when they began harassing the villagers. Those both brave and foolish would knock heavily on her wooden door and demand that she coat their weapons with vile poisons, enchant their armors with protective magicks, give them potions and poultices to save them when they fall at the mercy of a snarling thing with fangs. She did this with a stern diligence, and only served them if they had something useful to give—after all, such precious, costly things came at a high price. She was no do-gooder, certainly not a saint, and never received any sort of thanks.

From the ones that survived, anyway.

But this she did not mind, for it was her smaller services she offered that kept her sustained: fresh fruit and vegetables in exchange for healing remedies; milk and dairies in exchange for casting a calming spell on a distressed cow during birth; good firewood in exchange for cleansing haunted homes. It was in this way that she lived, solitary, yet content.

The villagers still regarded her warily, though she never showed any sign of wrongdoing. This she also did not mind. It was a useless effort to try and change the minds of lay people regarding magicks. They were told stories about old, twisted witches snatching children from their cradles and cooking them in their pots, of warty faces and gnarled fingers wiggling out malicious, dark shadows that tricked the eyes—and though the Witch did none of this, nor had any desire to, the people kept their distance with cautious respect. It did the Witch a service, almost, and kept them from getting too…friendly with her. A healthy, fearful respect between both parties was required, she thought. It was better this way.

So it no doubt surprised the Witch when her door shuddered with not a heavy, persistent knock, but a light, frantic one. Rising from her chair by the fire, she gathered her cloak and opened the door.

A peasant knelt before her at her doorstep, clutching an alarmingly pale woman against his chest. “Oh thank the gods!” he cried. “P-please, she’s my wife…the doctors in the town couldn’t do nothin’ to help. S-she’s barely got a heartbeat and she’s so cold…”

The Witch regarded the shaking man with a sharp eye. “You are sure you can repay me after?”

“Yes!” he cried again. “Please, just help her!”

“It is crucial for you to understand that there is no guarantee I will be able to save her. You still owe me a repayment regardless.”

He nodded again, convulsing with stifled sobs.

The Witch spun on her heel and gestured him to follow. “Get her in here, quickly. Put her on the table. I need you to answer all of my questions as soon as I ask them and do exactly as I say.”

Some noise of affirmation from behind her. It would do.

The Witch sprang into action, plucking leaves off of plants on the windowsill, digging up and snipping off roots, carefully measuring out dusts and other ingredients. As she ground them with the mortar and pestle, she asked, “When did she begin looking like this?”

The man wrung his hands worriedly. “Ah…about three or four days ago? She was jus’ a little pale and shaky, so we thought she ‘ad caught the chills. She rested in bed and we would give her soup and warm milk but nothin’ would make her feel better.”

“And what did she eat?”

The man furrowed his brow. “Pardon?”

The Witch glared at him. Time was precious if this was what she thought it was. “Let me make this a little clearer for you: did she hesitate or refuse to eat any foods? Particularly anything not meat?”

He nodded quickly. “We would give her soup an’ her face would get all screwy when she ate it. Like it made her sick.”

The Witch clenched her jaw and glanced out the window. The sun was getting ready to set.

“Come with me,” she snapped, beckoning with a finger as she whisked over to the table with the now-finished poultice. She set it down on the table, then balled the woman’s shirt fabric in either fist, and tore it in half.

“What’re’ya—!”

The Witch glared at him again, voice rigid. “If you want me to save your wife, you will pardon my intrusion. Take that poultice and spread it on both sides of her neck, on her lips, and on her chest. Over her heart. I will be back.”

The man swallowed and nodded as she briskly walked out of the room.

This was not good. And she knew it wasn’t going to end well. But she had to try.

Hurriedly, the Witch snatched a small knife from her bedside table and, from its drawers, a long bag made of cotton, tied at its end with string.

Outside her door, she could hear the woman begin to convulse on the table.

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and steeled herself before walking out with each item in hand.

“Get a vial from that counter there,” she instructed the man, “and by the gods, don’t break it.”

He returned with it pinched between his fingers, trembling with fear as his wife began to shake uncontrollably in every limb. “What…what’s happening to her?”

The Witch ignored him. “Hold this arm steady.”

Reluctantly (gods! With reluctance! Did this man know nothing of urgency?), he gripped his wife’s arm tightly. The Witch drew her knife, curled one hand around her thin flesh, cold as ice, and squeezed before making an incision with the blade. Blood emerged slowly from the wound, thick like molasses. She wrung the arm harder. Her husband cringed as she guided it into the vial.

“Wrap it,” she pointed to the cloth on a nearby table, “while I begin the incantation. Then hold her at the shoulders. As tight as you can.”

While he was distracted, she slowly fingered the string on the cloth bag, untying it silently and slipped her grip around the contents inside. Its smooth, polished surface felt cool against her hand, but not hardly as cold as the blood that was in the vial, unnaturally dark and stinking of death.

Closing her eyes, the Witch slipped into darkness. She forced herself to focus on the vial’s coldness, and imagined a winter much colder than this, a winter that made the heart numb and the living sleep. Words of an unknown language, coiled and soft, a hiss on her breath, seeped from her lips like the blood from the woman’s wound.

She could not hear the man’s panicked voice, elevating with each passing second. She was deaf to the world, forcing the winter away with spring, life and warmth, but the bitterness and rancor of winter was stuck in her nose, her mouth…

The incantation hastened, the words blended together. The man was most likely screaming now. She knew what he was seeing. She could taste it on her tongue, feel it grating against her teeth. The spring waned. The looming shadow of winter, thick with hunger, an eternal famine, descended upon spring like a predator.

The wail of the woman snapped her out of her trance, and beheld before her was the aftermath: the woman’s veins, bulged and blackened against her pallid skin, crept up her neck and spindled along her cheeks; she flailed wildly on the table, nails scraping into the wood and splintering her little fingers while her husband faithfully pinned her down, shouting at the Witch to do something.

It was then the Witch finally removed the object from the cotton-white bag: a long, smooth, polished piece of ivory-colored wood pointed at its tip. She held it with a knuckle-white grip as she drove it through the woman’s chest, through her heart, and the blood. By the gods, the blood. Dark and viscous it leapt, splattering against the man’s face and chest as the broken organ heaved and throbbed and the woman screamed and screamed and screamed, throat wrenching from the sheer exertion and pain, but still the Witch twisted the stake in place until the screams became cries and the cries became sobs and the sobs became whimpers and the whimpers became one, singular, inaudible exhalation.

And the woman stilled.

The Witch breathed in slowly, and refused to look the man in the eye. “Keep holding her, please.”

The man, too shocked to pull away, did what he was told.

Taking another breath in, the Witch stepped away from the woman and opened the drawer to the long-table nearby; within it were surgical tools. Plucking a few from their orderly rows, she returned to the almost-dead woman stuck to the table.

“What…what happen’d…to my wife?”

The man blinked blankly at her, expressionless, numb with terror. Slowly, and carefully, he disobeyed her orders as he removed one hand from his wife’s shoulder and wiped away some of the blood on his cheek. He withdrew his fingers and stared at them, like they had answers. “What…was…”

The Witch sighed. “She came down with chills, first. Then, refusal to eat anything except, I would assume, meat. The fourth or fifth day is usually when the transformation happens. If she was starved long enough—and she was—it is extraordinarily painful, and she would be feral.”

“Feral…?”

“A vampire. Without being taught proper, they are unable to control themselves.”

The man continued to stare at her, expression now unreadable, as she picked up a tool and began to make quick incisions around the stake. “To ensure that she is completely dead,” she explained, “I must remove her heart and burn it with fire. I could not save her. You brought her to me too late.” She paused and looked up at him. “Better that you brought her to me than not have brought her at all, or else you, and perhaps your children—do you have children?”

He nodded silently.

“—And your children would have been her first meals tonight.”

“But—” he stuttered, “she loves—loved—”

“Listen to me.” The Witch put down the scalpel. “If a vampire is not properly raised and taught by others, they do not know who they are. They live in the shadows, and their only thoughts are who will be their next meal. It does not matter who they once knew or loved. She contracted vampirism and a vampire she became. It is best that you brought her to me, lest she would have slaughtered your family—nay!—the entire town if she was given the chance.”

The man’s face twisted with confusion, and then frustration. “But you—! By the gods, she’s dead! You killed my wife!”

“It was what I had to do!” the Witch exclaimed. The frustration began to boil inside her chest, hot and ugly. “To save the lives of others, to save your own life, your children’s lives! She wouldn’t have wanted to live as a vampire for the rest of her life, now would she?” An exhale hissed through her nostrils, and she pointed to a nearby water bucket and rag. “Clean yourself off. Go back home to your children. I will not argue any longer. Listen to my instructions carefully: inform your high priest and councilman of what occurred here tonight. Be discreet. Do not gossip about this. You will spread hysteria. When you bury her, instruct the priest and the gravediggers to make sure she is nailed into her coffin. Burning the heart should ensure she is dead, but it never hurts to be cautious.”

“You’re…” the man’s brow knit, scowl still on his face. “You’re lettin’ me bury her body? You’re not gonna…” his voice lowered as he spoke, “cut her up an’ take her parts and use ‘em…or…”

The Witch looked at him incredulously. “I’m not a madwoman,” the Witch said. “You and your family deserve to have something to mourn.”

The man fell silent after that. He quietly washed off his face before leaving as he came, trudging through nightfall.

Cleanly carving a heart from a corpse takes an incredible amount of patience, and time. The Witch worked into the night until she reached the darkened organ. The hole in it yawned at her lazily. Ignoring the unsettling feeling it gave her, she grounded herself with the sawing snip, snip, snip of her knife on the thicker veins and arteries, and finally, finally scooped it from its abode and placed it in a jar. Without ceremony, she murmured her incantations as she burned it, and did not leave until it was naught but ash.

The process filled her home with a vile smell, and, exhausted, she settled into her chair by the fireplace, burning a bundle of incense to help her relax. Her head fell back against the chair. And here she sat, with the heartless corpse of a peasant woman behind her. The fact that this did not strike her in the least bit alarming or unusual made her giggle a bit. Laughing over dead bodies on her table?

Yes, she thought, I am very tired.

And so she sat, staring at the fire that ate away at the wood, until the night wind that slipped through the open window caressed her into sleep.

[beholdthethunder]

Turning Points

This is in response to the prompt  “Take my hand, show me the way, and never bring me back here...” Submitted by @apirateslifeforme123 and @snowbryneich

Fair warning: angst and fluff to follow...Hope you like it =)

Five years, two hundred forty days since Will Turner abandoned her to captain the Flying Dutchman. That was unfair to say. He hadn’t abandoned her. He had a duty to fulfill, a duty that was thrust upon him lest he slough off his mortal coil. Nevertheless, abandonment was what she felt. Left on a beach with naught but the chest and her sword, the Flying Dutchman disappeared with a green flash, and the Pearl not far behind it. She never said implicitly that she would have wished to stay aboard the Pearl, but Jack never bothered to ask either. The sting of which still burned like a brand upon her skin, a feeling she would become all too familiar with.

There wasn’t much to that little island; a scattering of fruit trees and what could loosely be described as a water source to keep her from withering away, but it didn’t take long for her to realize life could not be sustained upon those sands. She buried the chest deep in the jungle and took to the waters in her longboat. Four days of rough seas tossed her about like a rag doll when suddenly, from the shadows of the storm, a frigate appeared. The Seastar: A merchant vessel barely escaping the storm itself.  Her excitement was trumped only by her trepidation over what kind of men she’d be meeting upon the deck. To her great satisfaction, they knew nothing of her and held no loyalties to any crown. So she bargained with them. Free labor, plus the few shillings she had on her person in exchange for safe passage and a hot meal.

Four years, one hundred days since she was arrested in Nassau. She had sailed all over the Caribbean, aboard a number of different ships, escaping the clutches of the East India Company, only to end up at the doorstep of their largest stronghold. The streets of Nassau were littered with wanted posters. Many of them bearing a striking resemblance to one Jack Sparrow, a few for Hector Barbossa, but a great deal were scribbled with her likeness upon them.

She made her way into a tavern that sat at the end of a dark alleyway, figuring it to be an establishment for those who wished not to be seen. It was her first mistake that evening. Upon entering, all of the eyes that rested on her belonged to East India soldiers on shore leave. Her second mistake that evening was trying to take them all on at once. She was knocked unconscious and apprehended immediately.

She woke tied to the chair of an up and coming officer trying to make a name for himself. He’d barked all sorts of questions at her that never quite reached her ears due to a terrible, unrelenting ringing. Her inability to give him answers only enraged him further. The metal poker seared her skin with a sickening sizzle. She wished she would have stayed more composed during the whole ordeal, but the pain was unlike anything she’d experienced before, and so…she screamed.

They tossed her in a cell and withheld food for days. To this day, she wasn’t sure what information they wanted from her. Perhaps it was none at all, but an excuse to torture her and use her until there was nothing left of her.

Four years, sixty-five days since she’d become the right hand of Charles Vane. He’d been captured not two days previous and two of his men, came to his rescue almost immediately. She begged him to free her. He finally agreed, but it would come at a price.

He had taken her into his employ. Once he realized who she was, he made quick use of her. In the two years she spent doing Vane’s dirty work, she built quite a reputation for herself. She struck fear into the hearts of merchants all over the seven seas at the barest mention of her name. There wasn’t much left of the poor Governor’s daughter, only a ruthless murderess and an occasional bed mate of Captain Charles Vane. It wasn’t the worst arrangement, but he was a possessive man, a sometimes violent man, and freedom soon became a distant concept from a life lived long ago, if ever at all.

Two years, sixty days since they’d docked in Tortuga. Charles had business with a jewel merchant and left her to her own devices for the first time in a long time. She sat at a table near the back, keeping a watchful eye on the patrons. She’d become increasingly aware of people in recent years, the slightest bit of body language could give away an epic story. That night, though, she’d been caught unawares by a figure from her past.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the angel of death.” The man slurred drunkenly from behind her, his breath stinging her ear. “Surprised to see Vane let his bitch off of her leash.”

In one quick motion she grabbed the man by his coat and flipped him over her onto the table, her dagger pressed to his throat. Her eyes widened at the sight. “Jack?” She questioned disbelievingly. In all her travels, she’d heard no word of Captain Sparrow or his misadventures, she presumed him dead. She couldn’t describe what she felt in that moment; anger, relief, guilt, and probably a few others were bubbling in her gut.

“Miss me, love?” He smiled up at her.

“What’s to miss?” She said putting her dagger back in her belt.

“Is that any way to speak to an old friend?” He asked with half hearted grin as he sat up on the table.

“You mean the old friend who just referred to me as Vane’s bitch? Or the old friend who left me on a deserted island with only a chest to keep me warm?” She asked pointedly, with folded arms.

“Forgive me if I wasn’t thinking about her royal murderess’s welfare whilst you were having your one sodding day with the whelp.”

“You thought about it enough when you plunged Will’s dagger into Davy Jones’ heart.” She bellowed at him.

Jack stayed silent. She knew there was something more he wished to say, but he kept it close to the vest as he did all things of great importance to him.

“You’re lucky. I could have killed you, just then.” She added in a softer, more forgiving tone.

“Not likely. I’m rather un-killable these days.” He retorted arrogantly as he sat down in the seat next to her.

“The fountain? It’s real, you’ve found it?” She turned to him with sad excitement. She wished she would have been on that adventure. Treasure hunts and myth chasing were hardly part of her world anymore. She longed for the days when putting a piece of steel through someone’s belly wasn’t always the first course of action.

“Aye, only took me three years to find it too.” He grumbled. “What brings you to Tortuga all by your onesie? From what I hear, you and Charles are nigh inseparable.” His tone was laced with unmistakeable bitterness.

“I’m off duty.” She muttered.

“Grown tired of you, has he? Not surprising, a man like Vane has varied tastes.” He, quipped before taking a sip of his rum.

Her palm collided with his cheek in an instant.

“How dare you!” She screeched at him. “Don't sit there presuming to know all, you arrogant twat. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” She attempted to hit him again, but Jack grabbed her hand mid flight, clutching it tightly.

“You might not have gone through any of it, if you’d chosen differently.” He sneered at her, refusing to loosen his grip on her hand.

She didn't need to be reminded of the difficult choices she was faced with that day during the battle. “Neither of you left me with much of a choice, did you? No matter, I make my own choices now.” She pulled her hand back violently.

“You’re sure of that? From what I hear, Vane makes your choices for you.” Jack began to lean toward her, gaining a positional advantage over her.

“Perhaps I choose to let him.” She answered none too confidently as she retreated backward.

Jack laughed. “Don’t play me for a fool, Lizzie. I know Charles. I know what he’s like and what he likes. You’re no more free sailing with him than you were in Port Royal.” His voice was low, practically vibrating as it reached her. He stared deeply into her eyes, seeing every secret she kept hidden beneath her feathery lashes.

“I’m where I want to be.” She lied, feeling suddenly claustrophobic in such close proximity to Jack. Her breathing had grown ragged, sweat was beginning to form upon her brow as he leaned in closer.

His mouth covered her ear again “Liar.” He whispered. The heat of his breath sent a shiver from the pit of her stomach to her center.

She swallowed hard, trying to contain the heat building up inside her. “You have a better offer?” She managed to exhale in a rasp whisper.

"I've always had the better offer." He purred, sliding his hand along her thigh. She gasped when his fingers lightly grazes the inside of her waistband, his lips ghosting over the skin just behind her earlobe. Her insides were twisting into a knot, ready to explode, but she wouldn’t let him win her over so easily.

"Then you should have offered it when you had the chance." She grunted, pushing him off of her.

"I did,” He barked “and, if you recall, you threw it back in my face when you shackled me to the mast of my own ship and, again, when you married the whelp."

She shouted back at him. “You could have had me, but you left me on that island, and I had to watch your blasted Pearl sail off into the distance.” She rose angrily, keeping her back to Jack.

"It was the least you deserved." He grunted.

“Is that so?” She turned, leaning her back against a pillar next to the table.

Jack’s brow furrowed. ”You want to know why it took me three years to find the fountain?” He stood, stalking her with a feline’s grace.

“Please, enlighten me.”

"I went looking for you first. I had gone back to that bloody island to bring you to the Pearl, but you were gone. I searched the whole bloody world for you until I heard you'd taken up with Vane, and then I realized the truth. Any pirate would do, isn’t that right dearie?” He leered, towering over her, an arm perched above her head against the pillar. “Like I said, the least you deserved.”

“It was Vane or the noose.” She seethed through gritted teeth. “I chose the lesser of two evils. You haven’t the slightest inkling how badly I wished it was you who’d sprung me from that cell in Nassau instead of him, or how I wished we would have come upon the Pearl so that I might leave with it. I didn’t choose him over you. I’ve only ever chosen what was left for me to choose, which, more often than not, has been no choice at all. As a result, I’ve been widowed, deserted, branded, beaten, and taken by privateers and buccaneers alike. Is that not enough to settle the score between us?” She thrusted her chin up at him in defiance.

“Hardly.” He said before capturing her mouth with his. His free arm found its way around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. They were a tangle of mouths and limbs when Jack was unceremoniously yanked backward and thrown to the floor.

“Make one move and I’ll gut you like a fish” Charles Vane spouted with a menacing rage, his sword pointed at the fallen man. “Sparrow?” He squinted upon realizing who had been assaulting his companion. “I should have known.” He said dropping the point of his sword. “You’ve always had the uncanny ability to get your hands on what does not belong to you.”

“I’m afraid she doesn’t belong to you either, Vane. The Dutchman claims this one.” Jack said as he rose to his feet.

“One day every ten years. I’ll take my chances. Come, Elizabeth.” Charles commanded her as he turned to walk out of the tavern.

She didn’t move.

“It doesn’t seem she wants to be going anywhere with you, mate.” Jack spoke seriously.

“Elizabeth, let’s go.” He commanded her again.

She stayed put.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Vane marched to her and violently grabbed her arm, yanking her with him.

She struggled to pull her arm from his grip. Tighter and tighter he squeezed until she stopped resisting and followed behind him. She gave a pleading look to Jack for just a second before they exited the tavern.

“You belong to me, do you understand?” Vane hissed at her, pulling her roughly to his side.

Two years, forty-five days since the Pearl overtook the Ranger, rescuing her from servitude. Jack had followed Vane for two weeks, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The Ranger was within an inch from sinking and Vane within an inch of his life when he finally surrendered. Jack had beaten Vane into a bloody pulp. If she hand��t stopped Jack, he would have killed him.

“Jack.” She lay a hand on him. His shoulders flinched at her touch, the sound of her voice shook him from his enraged daze. “It’s done with. He surrendered.” She continued.

Jack’s breathing was labored as he tried to calm himself, his eyes never straying from the bloodied captain.

“Jack.” She whispered to him again. “Take my hand, take me to the Pearl.” She put her hand in his. “And never bring me back here.” He turned his head toward her and she rested a comforting palm on his cheek as he nodded with closed eyes.

Two years, ten days since Jack first uttered that he loved her. She’d been cross with him for something too minuscule to remember, and they’d been bickering like squabbling gulls for days. His apology finally came with a professing of love and the two shared vows upon the deck of the pearl not a few weeks later.

One year, nine months since she told Jack she was with child. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him.

One year since she stopped counting down the days. The day her son was born was the happiest she’d ever been. Every year after that would be a reminder of just how happy she remained.