#Men’s Hair Loss Kit PLUS

[everlarkficexchange]

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up  

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though. 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death. 

  “Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago. 

  The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

  A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod. 

  That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face. 

  “Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

  I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother. 

  Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

  Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain. 

  It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister. 

  I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life. 

  I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning,  watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children. 

  I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate. 

  We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying. 

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

  “We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag. 

  Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

  I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully. 

  I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles. 

  We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor. 

  My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up. 

  “No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

  I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man. 

  He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me. 

  “My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

  I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names. 

  “Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

  “Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

  Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

  As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

  Marvel nods, grimly. 

  “We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes. 

  “Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

  I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps. 

  “Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

  After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

  I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly. 

  Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?  

  Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

  These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

  “Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk. 

  “Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

  I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow. 

  I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile. 

  “I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly. 

  My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head. 

  Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,” 

  My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers. 

  “Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?” 

  My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

  “Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?” 

  I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

  “Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”  

  I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12. 

  I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be. 

  I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things. 

  Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night. 

  ————————-

  Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings. 

  We talk about baseball:

  “You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?” 

  I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

  “Wow, beautiful and smart!”

  We talk about cars:

  “I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

  “The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?” 

  No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

  We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child. 

  Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly. 

  I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up. 

  “Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

  We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight,  alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden! 

  I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting! 

  Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches. 

  “Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

  “Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

  His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

  “You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!” 

  It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed. 

  A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here. 

  “I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants. 

  I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us. 

  “You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

  “You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

  “My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

  I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

  Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

  I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise. 

  “That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!” 

  We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house. 

  He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound. 

  But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried. 

  ————————-

  Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down. 

  Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

  I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

  I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

  But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something! 

  I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth. 

  I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure. 

  I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes. 

  My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare. 

  At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

  One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

  “Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs. 

  I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

  “I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.” 

  ————————-

  Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face. 

  I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

  “I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,” 

  “Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

  “The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

  “I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…” 

  I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence. 

  My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

  ——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news. 

  I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way. 

  The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters. 

  “It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says. 

  At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long. 

  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. 

  I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad. 

  Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

  “Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack. 

  I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary. 

  My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!” 

  “Katniss, what’s going on?” 

  I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

  I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

  “At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

  I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care. 

  “That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically. 

  I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t. 

  I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now. 

  “I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

  “Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

  She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath. 

  I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

  ———————-

  My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough. 

  I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold. 

  In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day. 

  There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption. 

  “Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper. 

  “Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

  Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father. 

  I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly. 

  She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation. 

  “Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly. 

  I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?” 

  “It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

  “This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?” 

  My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

  —————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

  “Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

  I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth. 

  “Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

  “Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command. 

  I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,” 

  I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade! 

  Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason! 

  I shudder at the thought. 

  But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

  My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name. 

  Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

  I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible. 

  “Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment. 

  I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

  He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here. 

  “Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

  “Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.” 

  Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

[issa-me-addy]

It Still Hurts (Peter Parker x Reader)

okay so i saw this gifset here and the quote from the movie [Happy: I thought you had super strength. // Peter: It still hurts. ] and INSPIRATION STRUCK, again i bet this concept has been done before but i cannot hold back i must write about this so here is my sad petey x reader one shot please enjoy 

WARNINGS: angst?, cursing, talk of blood/stitching, crying and generally just a really sad piece i have no reason for this i just couldn’t get the concept out my mind 

Word count: 1725

It was getting late. Very late, even for Peter and you were growing very concerned. He told May that he was going to stay at the Tower with Happy after a simple arms deal bust he was assigned to do with Sam and Bucky out at the shipyard. So of course, the two of you arranged that he’d come in through your fire escape to spend the night instead. To your disbelief though, he was late. 

In general, when the two of you made these kinds of plans he would be in your window at three the latest but it was pushing near four in the morning and you were growing more and more anxious by the second. 

As the clock hit 4:30, Peter’s hand hit your window. 

You opened it up quickly, the dim light of your TV the only thing illuminating your room. He shuffled in, leaning heavily on you, panting and wincing with every rough step towards your bed. 

“What the fuck happened Peter?” You asked, genuinely curious, releasing your hold on his elbow as he sat down on the corner of your bed. His body fell forward as he leaned his forearms onto his knees and allowed his head to swing between his shoulders. 

“I was wearing the old suit. I left the new one in the lab because I coded some new stuff for it and I’ve been putting off this last update. I thought I would be fine since it was an easy mission, plus Wanda came out with us but these guys had some punch to ‘em.” Peter explained as you stood in front of him, slowly moving his head and arms around to check for anything that needed special attention. When you lifted his right arm he winced. 

You nodded, allowing him to continue explaining what went down at the docks. You shuffled through your closet until you found your old med kit, humming softly every now and then to let him know you were still listening. 

The kit had some dust from sitting at the very back of the shelf and not being touched for over a year since Peter had joined forces with the Avengers. With the major suit upgrade and the med team at the tower, he never had to sneak in through your window at night to get patched up anymore, which begged the question that you could no longer hold back. 

“Pete, why didn’t you go back to the tower to get patched up?” You asked. 

“I didn’t want to go to the tower, they would have made me stay there,” he explained. “And I really wanted to see you. I got my ass handed to me, babe. It sucked.” 

You turned on the lamp that sat atop the small table by your bed and sat to Pete’s right, examining the cut just above his right shoulder blade. He was going to need a few stitches. 

“I can see that,” You joked, opening up the kit and prepping your needle. “Take the suit off, I need to clean this up. It’s gonna be at least four stitches.” 

He obliged, hissing as he peeled off the top and letting it drop into his lap. “I always hated stitches.” 

“I know, but it’s gotta happen,” you explained, gently wiping the gash with alcohol and wincing alongside his reactions. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for the blood, for making you do this.” 

You shake your head despite the fact that he has his back to you. “It’s fine,” you reply. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t wanna get patched up by the nurse at the tower. She even gives lollipops afterwards.” 

He lets out a sharp chuckle. “Yeah Nurse Katherine’s great at fixing me up, sure, but I really didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.” 

You hum in reply as you prep your needle. “Okay, Pete, I’m gonna start the stitches.” 

Peter nods his head and remembers not to talk while you do these stitches. 

Up until high school, the only stitches you knew were the kind you did to patch up the pits of your t-shirts and to put little flowers in your denim jacket. Then, in your freshman year, your cousin had busted his forearm open at the skatepark and you were the only person in the entire family with a steady hand. That night you learned how to stitch a man up. After you told Peter that story though, he started showing up on your fire escape with cuts, scrapes and bruises galore. 

Although it had been over a year since you’d last done this though, Peter had given you a lot of practice and you were back in your groove very quickly. 

Despite this, you heard soft cries coming from the broad body in front of you. 

“I thought you had super strength,” you attempted to make fun, pulling through your third stitch. 

“It still hurts,” he replied, his voice raspy and low. 

In your heart you knew he wasn’t talking about the stitches. You’ve stitched up a gouge much worse on his calf after he got caught up with a girl who really loved her knives, and he didn’t even complain. That night it was eight stitches and not a peep from him.

You finished the rest of the stitches in silence. After wiping up the rest of the blood smeared on his body, you cleaned up the skin around the suture and placed a large cotton pad atop it, securing that in place and hoping that he didn’t get blood on your bed sheets again. 

You packed away your med pack and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the collection of clothes you’d stolen from Peter in the last year or so that you guys have been together. 

“Thank you,” he said, pulling his suit off and climbing into his sweats. 

His eyes were still red and puffy, the only sounds filling the room were random sniffles and the sound of you sorting out the bed for the two of you to sleep. 

“Are you okay, Pete?” You asked, sitting up on the left side of the bed, the comforter pulled up in your lap. 

He pulled the shirt on over his head and pulled the blanket off your lap and settled himself in between your legs, his back pressed up against you, and pulling your arms around his shoulders. 

Before you could piece words together to react, soft sobs filled the room. 

A minute passed and you pulled him closer to you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head and running your thumb up and down his forearm. 

His breathing finally slowed. “I miss him so much.” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek thinking of something to say. 

You knew well enough he was talking about Tony. Ever since Tony died, Peter’s been off his game. Even with the Stark tech, he was getting pretty hurt at every single mission. He wasn’t sleeping as much and if you managed to catch him in between tasks, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“I know,” you reply. “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

You can’t think of anything else to do but squeeze him a little tighter. 

“I just-- it still hurts. It’s been months and it still hurts. I miss him. I don’t like the world without Tony Stark. It’s scarier. Even I’m scared all the time. I can’t focus on missions, and that means I’m putting people in danger,” he stops to breathe, pulling your arms a little closer to his chest. “and I’m just so tired of watching good men die at the hands of selfish people.” 

You sit and listen and feel your heart ache at the sight and sound of nothing but a boy in pain, mourning the loss of someone he loved so dearly, and there’s not much else you can do but hold him close, listen and be there for him.

“I know. It’s not fair. There’s nothing fair about it.” 

“I want Tony back.” 

The two of you sit there for a while longer, Pete’s sniffles filling the air. Eventually they stop and he unwraps your arms from around him and the two of you lie down. 

You end up on your back with Peter’s head resting on your chest, slowly breathing in your scent. His arms snake around your middle and you know he’s going to be insistent on holding you like this for the rest of the night, so you try to get comfy. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you rake through them over and over and over again, hoping that he’ll fall asleep soon. 

He doesn’t. 

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” he asked, his voice soft and quiet. 

“I think New York can only be so bad with a guy like Spiderman defending it,” you mutter back, pressing another kiss to his forehead. 

“I don’t think I can fill Mr. Stark’s shoes, y/n.” 

“I think you can. He picked you, Peter.” 

“But he was Iron Man, he was always there when the world needed saving.” 

“I don’t think he would have done what he did if he didn’t think that you could help take care of the world for him.” 

He didn’t respond, but you felt him hold his breath, so you continued. 

“And you’re not alone Pete. He gave you a family with the Avengers and he believed in you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I believe in you.” 

You smoothed his hair back before tangling your fingers with the bunch at the nape of his neck. The two of you lied awake for nearly another hour, not speaking, just holding each other. 

You held this boy in your arms, desperate to protect him from anymore loss and grief. This boy who had a huge heart and nothing but a yearn to protect the ones around him. This boy who was one of the people responsible for saving the universe. 

And Peter held his number one reason for continuing to fight the good fight. That night, as you held him and his chest filled with an ache only you could soothe, he made a promise to himself that he would protect the world with every bit of him, so long as you were in it. 

[worlds-forgotten]

Gut Feeling

summary: Nikki and Wrench’s story, as told by them. They form an unlikely duo, leading to an adventure involving plotting to avenge their near deaths, plus perhaps beginning to enjoy each other’s company. If only it could go on like that forever.  

pairing: Nikki Swango x Wes Wrench

warnings: Swearing, canon typical violence/gore 

word count: 3.0k

rating: Mature

posted: 19/03/12

Nikki was eight when she first realized she had a superpower. Well, at least, that’s what she used to enjoy referring to it as. The school day would drag on forever, the long hours ticking away on a clock that sat above the doorway to her classroom. With nothing better to do, she observed. The fellow students’ habits and mannerisms, how quickly she was able to catch on the the math equations that were written in the chalkboard. It became quickly evident to Nikki that she had keen eyes for figuring things out. Noticing. Somehow, she was always the first to solve the day’s lessons. She noticed when her fifth grade teacher stopped wearing his wedding ring and began to drink more coffee, she noticed when Tilly Jackson began wearing turtle necks and scarves in grade eight after getting her first boyfriend, and most importantly, she learned how to play bridge watching the men on the TV. The way they moved their cards and watched each other’s faces was so fascinating, and Nikki knew this was the perfect thing to place her superpower in.

It quickly became less and less of a superpower and more of a need, just like food or water. Without her quick learning skills and observational watching, she wouldn’t have been able to plan her way out of any of the situations that led to the one she was in now. Hobbling towards the car in the parking lot of an alleyway with her arm wrapped around the shoulder of a deaf stranger. She pushed herself forward with each step, willing her legs to carry her just a bit further. The keys in her hand felt cold and slick, and it still seemed unreal that they were just handed to her freely. The warmth of the kitten was nothing but a phantom feeling now, but she was sure she hadn’t imagined it. The man at the counter. Surely she wasn’t hallucinating from blood loss. With a glance back at the bowling alley, Nikki prayed silently that she hadn’t actually stolen the car in some crazed attempt to help herself and her stranger. Reaching for the driver’s side, the man grabbed her arm to stop her. She gave him a puzzled look and he signed something slowly, either out of exhaustion or in hopes she would somehow understand what he was saying. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say. It’s fine, I’ll drive,” she attempted to open the door again, and this time the stranger pulled her away from the door. He pointed at her leg and mimicked her crashing the car. “I’m fine, it’s-“ Sighing, Nikki realized there was so point in arguing. If anything, she could manage a bit of rest if she let him drive. “Fine, you drive.” She slapped the keys into his hand and propped herself against the hood as she limped to the passengers seat. While climbing in Nikki released a cry of pain, her stomach and ribs throbbed and her leg numb with lack of circulation. She quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed, then glanced at the man beside her, who was unaware as he buckled in that she had made any noise at all. That made her feel a little better while the engine came to life as the keys were placed in the ignition. “Wait,” she called out, grabbing the stranger’s coat. He looked at her with a furrowed brow. She dug into her pocket and produced a small notepad she had taken from the alley, then checked the glove box for a pen. She found a pencil and scrawled a message, then handed it to him.

Name’s Nikki. I figured we need a way to talk.

He looked back up at her, staring as if to decide if the name suited her. She wondered for a moment if he even knew what her name sounded like, but felt it was rude to ask. He grabbed the pencil from her and wrote a reply.

Wrench. Can read lips.

She thought for a moment maybe she had misread it. That had to be a last name. “You can really see what I’m saying?” She asked, and he raised a brow. “What’s your real name? I gave you mine.” He scribbled out another message and placed it between them before putting the car into drive and beginning their road trip to who knows where. Nikki picked up the pad with slight offence at his abrupt end to their conversation.

You talk too fast.

•••

Nikki was woken with a sudden jerk of the car stopping. She quickly sat up, completely unaware she had fallen asleep. Black, crusted blood stained the car floor and her pant leg. She turned her head to see Wrench rubbing his hands through his curls. His eyes were on top of dark circles from what was presumably hours of driving, based on the rising sun that now lit the sky with pinks and oranges. She looked and saw they were at a motel, with a broken light up sign and no cars in the parking lot. The kind of motel people get murdered at. “Where are we?” She asked with a yawn. When she got no answer, she nudged Wrench’s arm so he would look at her. “Where are we? What kind of motel is this?” He began to sign, then stopped, and scooped up the pencil and notepad.

The kind that doesn’t ask questions.

He opened the car door, and she mirrored his actions, slowly rising with a wince. She noticed he was now carrying a briefcase and a duffel bag, which he hadn’t had before. Was it from the car? Maybe the man at the bowling alley left some supplies and money for them in the trunk? She shook the ridiculous thought from her head. As it was, she wasn’t even sure she had actually spoken to anyone. Wrench offered his hand to her for support, and she grasped it, hopping along on her good leg into the reception room. Nikki grabbed the counter as a crutch, and rang the bell that sat there. The ring echoed through the empty motel, and silence followed. Looking around, she saw a dusty couch and an old bookshelf that had clearly gone untouched for awhile. It smelled like cigarettes and Fabreeze inside, and really needed an open window. “‘Morning,” a voice said, and Nikki glanced back and saw a elderly man in a robe. “My apologies, not much requirement to be up before six these days.” “That’s fine, Mister. We’ll be needing a room.” “And a bath, I’ll say. Quite a bit of blood on you, young man.” He replied with a chuckle as he pointed at Wrench, who simply frowned in return. Nikki cut in. “Not much of a talker, my friend here. Sorry. We’re alright, just a car accident.” “No need to explain, it’s okay. That’ll be thirty for one bed-“ “Two beds, please.” Nikki corrected. “Forty five then.” Wrench tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a wad of cash. She glanced down and shook her head. “No, it’s only forty five, that’s too much.” She whispered slowly. He signed something, then shoved the money at her once more. “I don’t- fine. Okay, fine.” She snatched it and placed it on the counter. “We’ll pay in advance for a few more nights, just in case.” “Sounds like a plan to me, Miss.” the man handed her a key. “It’s upstairs.” Nikki thanked him, then turned and opened the door to make her way to the stairs. Wrench walked ahead of her, and she watched his back as he ascended the steps. He moved so smoothly despite the huge tear in his jacket that was crusted with dry blood. He took the key from Nikki’s hand and stopped at the door, then opened the it slowly, as if expecting someone to be waiting for them inside. There would’ve been no way anyone could have anticipated them being there together, but there was still the feeling of raised hair, both of them ready to defend themselves again. Though frankly, after already decapitating one guy, and fighting off the other freak with the wolf’s head, she was done for now. Closing the door behind her, the first thing Nikki did was crawl into one of the beds and sigh loudly. Her body ached and cramped, and she was ready to sleep for another twelve hours. Her eyes closed for a moment before the felt a finger tapping her arm. She cracked open one eyelid and stared back at Wrench. He signed something, then gestured at her leg. She lifted it a little and groaned. “Yeah, I guess sooner or later, right?” She sat up with a helping hand from Wrench, and he lifted her arm and wrapped it around his shoulder and practically carried her to the bathroom. She placed herself on the toilet seat in the tiny powder room, suddenly having the urge to laugh at how much larger Wrench seemed now, with his head almost touching the low ceiling. He removed his jacket with a little struggle, then squatted beside Nikki and met her gaze. “You got any booze?” She half joked. He frowned, then held up a first aid kit, but not the kind that you get at a drug store. Nikki pictured he had bought it from the Special Forces. “Was that from your special duffel bag?” She asked as he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut up her pant leg. “Hey,” she flicked his head, causing him to snap his face up. “I’m talking to you. Where did you get the bags? Your suitcase?” He went back to her leg, ignoring her inquires. The bottle of liquid he opened smelled strongly of alcohol, suddenly Nikki really did crave a shot. “Fine. Don’t answer me. I don’t need to know. I don’t need to know!” She yelled at his head, which was looking down, focusing on pouring the liquid into some cloths. He placed it against her open wound and she let out a small screech and pushed his hand away. “Goddamn! Is that straight acid? Jiminy cricket, gimmie a second.” She inhaled sharply and braced herself on the sink. Wrench placed his hand on her knee to steady her and began to clean her blood stained skin, and she felt the tears that tried to fall. Sure, Nikki was strong. Weakness was a threat to everything she had worked so hard towards. She always thought her way out of any plan gone wrong, but there was no denying she was at her lowest in this moment as she watched Wrench pull out stitching string and a needle. She braced herself and bit her sleeve.

•••

“Do you need help with yours?” Nikki spoke slowly, trying to emphasis her words as she touched her new bandaging. Wrench shook his head, then pointed at the shower. “That’s probably a good idea. You go first, I’ll take one after.” She stood up with a small wobble, then turned and left the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it, leaving Nikki alone in the room. She looked down at her dirty clothing, bloody and covered in mud. There were two white robes that sat on the dresser, and confident Wrench was going to be awhile, she stripped and wrapped the robe around herself. She just tried not to imagine how many times it had been worn without wash. Sitting on one of the beds, she listened to the sounds of the shower running and the gentle humming of the ice machine outside. Otherwise it was completely silent, the morning birds virtually quiet and no cars passing in the freeway. It was peaceful, despite the slight creepiness of the empty motel, save the elderly man at reception. She wondered why they were all alone there, considering the fairly cheap rooms. Wrench had implied that it was a shady place, where many people like him went (whatever he was), so perhaps only people in real trouble arrived there, asking for a sanctuary. It reminded Nikki of the convenient bowling alley that frankly, saved their lives. The man at the bar had asked no questions and gave them free drinks, while the man who had Ray had given them his car. Why had there been an alley in the middle of the woods? So far out beside the highway? Nikki couldn’t picture gathering up a family for a day of fun and driving out an hour to a neon lit building at the edge of a quite possibly haunted forest. The all too close memory of the forest sent a shiver down her spine. Between Wrench’s howls of pain and the shear terror as arrows whizzed at them too quickly to avoid (hence her now torn apart calf), it was the most certain she had ever been that she was going to die; in that moment, chained to a stranger and being attacked by crazed mobster assholes. With a sigh, Nikki rolled her head to crack her neck, and spied the duffel bag and case sitting on the floor near the door. She stared at them for a moment, tempted to peek. No, it wasn’t hers, that wasn’t okay. But then again, did she even give a fuck what was okay anymore? She needed to feel safe with this guy, and somehow knowing what was inside would make her feel better. She listened to make sure the shower was still going, and she quickly ran over to the bag first. Unzipping the top, her hands made quick work to discover clothing, toothbrushes, bags of snacks, like the kind you buy for a road trip, and other toiletries. The feeling of nosiness dwindled and she almost felt bad for snooping. She then closed the bag and sat on the carpet. He had just been looking out for them, though had she expected anything else? She then moved to the briefcase, which was mildly heavy. Placing it on the bed, she unhooked the straps and pulled open the top. Inside were passports, credit cards, badges, IDs, and a few wads of cash in both American and Canadian money. She picked up a passport and saw Wrench’s picture but a different name- Jerome Hilton. Then another with the name Stephen Mills. She wondered if his name really was Wrench, or if that’s just another fake persona. She then picked up an ID and saw a different man on it, one that wasn’t Wrench. He had dark hair and a beard. “Grady Numbers,” she said aloud, curious to who he was. There are more forms of the man’s identification with other names. “Who are you?” She asked to no one in particular, but then there was silence, and the shower wasn’t running any longer. Quickly shoving the case back where it was, Nikki rushed back to her spot on the bed. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and her bus seat partner stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a pullover. His hair was still damp, but he was clean, though wore heavy bags under his eyes. He strode past her and picked the duffel off the floor. When he opened it, he waved her over, then pointed at the clothes inside. “Oh, thanks,” She mustered up a small smile as she grabbed a pair of pants and a tee shirt. She tried to grab a pair of socks and accidentally pulled up a long, blue scarf. She inspected it for a moment before Wrench pulled it out of her hand and signed something. She didn’t understand, but based on his serious expression, she guessed the scarf was off limits. “‘Kay,” she turned around and walked towards to bathroom. “Weirdo.”

•••

The mirror was foggy with condensation, and Nikki used her forearm to rub it away enough to look at herself. Her dark hair dripped water onto her bare shoulders, and she watched the little droplets roll down her skin. Her eyelids sagged with sleepiness and she was pale as a ghost. She decided she could look worse, considering the night she had. The fan whirred loudly above her, blowing hot hair around the room. Using one towel, she wrapped her hair up, then dried her body before pulling on the much too large sweat pants and tee shirt. With a curious nose, she smelled the shirt, which had the faint scent of deodorant. She wondered if it belonged to Wrench. Pulling the drawstring on the pants as tight as she could, she then stepped out of the bathroom. The first thing she did was throw her old track suit in the garbage, but placed her faux fur coat on the desk chair, not being able to part with it. Nikki glanced up at the figure on the bed, finding Wrench leaning against the headboard with his hands resting clasped on his stomach, and his eyes closed. He didn’t move, unaware of her presence in the room. His breath was deep, implying his slumber. The digital clock on the nightstand between the beds blinked 7:05 AM. Quietly (still not used to Wrench’s obliviousness to noise), she flicked off the lights and climbed into the queen opposite the other. She spent a moment staring at the large man before climbing back out and pulling his covers over his thick legs. He twitched a little and she moved back, scared of a violent reaction, but his eyes remained closed and began to snore quietly. Nikki laid in her bed for what felt like a century, hyper aware of the silence of the motel once again. She focused on Wrench’s breathing from across the room, and stared at the sun through the closed, thin curtains that blocked the outside from viewing the room. As soon as Wrench woke up, they needed to plan ahead for what was going to occur in their future. The unlikely pair. They were really in it now, running from the law and from these men. That was going to have to stop. Nikki already knew how she could make it go away, but it would take precise plotting, because it was two against what felt like a whole army. Wrench seemed to be on her side, though there would only be certainty once they had discussed it together. A major scheme. She knew deep down it would be difficult, especially with the language barrier, but she was willing to do all it took to make sure they were an unbeatable team. Bar none.

[memoirsofamessybitch]

In My Mind Part 6

Joe x Fem Reader

Warning; strong language.

Thanks to all for the warm-ish welcome back to this space. I’m sorry if anyone has been waiting far too long for this update. But it’s here now!

Enjoy!

Prologue  Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five

I finished Joe's face in silence as my boss hung around the trailer, making sure we didn't run off again. There were at least 2 things that I was certain of after that moment. Things were never gonna be the same again between Joe and I; and that I was dreading the follow up conversation.

“Right he's done” I stepped back and watched as she examined him intently.

“Perfect, right grab your shit you're coming on set” I frowned at her in confusion.

“Really”

“Touch ups, plus you owe me for fucking around earlier”

“That was my fault, in all honesty I was having some kind of crisis we needed a private area...” Joe jumped in for me, but it made no difference.

“Don't give a fuck, when the director is breathing down my neck, I'm breathing down hers” I shrugged and started to pack up some things in a bag to bring to set. I didn't even look at him, I couldn't. I let him slink away to his trailer as they prepared the scene. I was left to the mercy of my boss.

“You're good at this job, I've never seen you behave the way you have lately and because of him? You can do way better than that guy....he's a little ass” Nicola Kyle always had a way with words. A woman well into her 40's who clearly had never experienced any kind of love or happiness in her life. She was not the person I wanted to be speaking to at that particular moment. Never the less I continued.

“Don't talk about him like that he's a nice guy....I think he's cute” I paused for a moment and thought about him. “No! you don't get to think their cute, you don't hook up with talent okay, that's not how I run shit here and you know that”

“I don't wanna just hook up....I really like him” I went to chew the end of one of my make up brushes.

“Well he's clearly INFATUATED with you....it's been obvious since the day he sat in that chair.....the only person who doesn't see it is that dopey engineer who he's been using to get rid of his feelings for you”

“Don't say it like that, he's not using her...I don't think so anyway” Nicola put her hand on my shoulder and shook her head. She was pitying me.

“Men are all the same Y/N....I thought you were wise to that by now....if you wanna pursue this then be my guest....if you think he could be...”the one””

She removed her hand then ushered me to follow her onto set.

“You think I should tell him to cancel his date with her....I mean I told him to go on it but now....” The flood gates had been opened and I was spilling. However Nicola had had her share of this and put her hand over my mouth.

“No more...I don't wanna know, I just want you to be professional for at least the rest of the day” I nodded and continued to follow her in a much more docile manor than previous.

I wasn't needed much on set, I ran on a couple times but nothing intense. I couldn't believe we hadn't even got to location filming and I had already fucked things up between Joe and I. We both glanced at each other as he walked off set. God I wanted to run up to that beautiful bastard and just kiss him, but I contained myself.

“Can I go now” I touched Nicola on her shoulder and pulled her away from her concentration.

“You know what please do, you've done my fucking head in all day. But you're staying for night shoots next week”

“Okay whatever” I turned quickly on my heel and rushed out of set. Swinging my brush kit almost childish like.

When I got home and I shut the door slowly. I lent on it and took a few deep breaths and tried to numb the sinking pain in my stomach. I'd fallen so fucking hard for this BOY that I was risking my professional career, something I'd worked REALLY fucking hard for. What I needed was a bath, some booze and a book. But not any book, insert favourite book.

This book got me through the hardest times, it saw me through beauty school, the loss of anyone I had loved. It was a crutch in times like these. I smirked softly to myself as I pulled it from the bookshelf in my bedroom. I had tied my hair up in a scarf and had got into my bath robe. I just hoped this would get rid of that sinking feeling, that feeling that I may never find anyone that makes me feel the way Joe does again.

The water filled up the tub steadily as I poured my self a glass of goodness, watching the steam rise from the water I glanced at my reflection. They'll be another, there has to be.

BANG BANG BANG.

It sounded as if someone was trying to knock my door down. Instantly fear washed over me as I hurried to grab my baseball bat from under my couch. Completely disregarding the fact I was in a bathrobe and only a bathrobe I opened the door slightly; clutching my bat for dear life.

“Joe?” I just blurted out his name. As if it was the only thing I could say in the instance I saw him on the other side of my door. I pulled the door open the rest of the way still holding onto my bat. He looked me up and down.

“I feel like I had a dream like this once” He pointed at my bat, I threw it to one side as it crashed onto the carpet. I laughed nervously and pulled the robe around me tighter.

How did you find out where I lived?” Was genuinely my first question.

“I asked someone in your department; and they told me, like it was that easy, you should be cautious of who you tell that information to” I grimaced at the thought and moved on.

“Why aren't you out with Becky?” my next question. Only this time it was a little pointed.

“Who are you my Mother, I’m here aren’t I, not with her” He was so direct and blunt. I loved it. I invited him in and immediately remembered the bath I was running.

“FUCK” I screamed rushing to my bathroom. I turned the taps off just in time. The fucking thing was brimming with scolding water. I exhaled in relief and pulled the plug.

“I am so sorry, looks like you had some major plans” Joe had followed me into the bathroom, I sighed heavily then turned to face him.

“I needed a little reset. So one of these tends to do the trick...especially after I've been dicked around”  I pursed my lips in a cheeky manor. I wasn't sure if I was being conceited or flirting. At this point with Joe I just didn't fucking know any more! “I have to do night shoots with extras because of today, I'm still trying to figure out if it was worth it” I stormed past Joe and walked through to my living room. I felt him follow closely behind and I found myself standing next to my couch watching the man of my dreams lean on my bedroom door.

Joe just looked at me, or was it through me. I couldn't tell, I was still trying to process him even being in my apartment.

“Sorry...I....you just look so beautiful” his voice sounded like a wave of calm and warmth. SO naturally I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“Really? With my stained robe and lack of make up. Wow you really are a good actor” I joked; but after taking another good look at Joe, I could finally read the room. I was frozen as I watched him walk closer to me and pull the scarf off my head, letting my hair free. There was no way I could disguise myself trembling as he played with my locks. He took a deep breath in and smirked.

“You done talking now?” His voice had softened to a low whisper. I nodded. No matter how hard I should have tried to fight it, I just wanted nothing more than for him to plant one on me. And you better believe a fucking church choir sang to the heavens in my head as soon as Joe Mazzello pressed his lips against mine. It wasn't an overly long or explicit kiss. But it was enough to make the hairs on my arms stand up on end. He pulled away, much to my dismay.

“Oh wow” I exhaled with my eyes still closed.

“I heard what you said today To Nic...and I know you don't think much of me right now but I think the WORLD of you. You're the first decent person I've met in months, who has obviously been hurt in the past and I can't change that, and a few nights with me wont erase them from your memory. But I just want the chance to show you how good it can be” I couldn't stop the tears, they rolled down my flushed cheeks and dripped from my jaw onto my robe.

“I'm scared” I whispered; unable to hold back my emotions. He had stripped me down to this with just a few sentences, I felt foolish.

“I know, and I respect that, I respect you” Joe's hands cradled my face now. His thumbs clearing my falling tears. I let him continue, lost in his words.

“I...you know every time I take on a new project I always call my Mom, and I tell her about my first day, who I'm working with etc.  She told me I had mentioned Y/N 20 times....in one phone call. I'm super fucking professional and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise; but you got me running off set, day dreaming. Forgetting my lines. Y/N I am out of this fucking world into you” I guffawed in response. I sniffed unattractively and grabbed Joe's wrists pulling his hands away from my face. I just stared at him, wondering what to do with all of this...

[msbelmonttepesbelnades]

A Second Chance: Part 1

Being a speaker magician, in current times is something almost unheard of. Have following traditions since speakers first appeared, you were given a mission.

“You want me to what?” You say, while sitting on the sofa inside of a hotel room in France. You had a 3DS in your hands, gaming away. Your sister, the current leader of the Speakers of your time stood in front of you with her arms crossed.

“Go back in time, and try to reason with Dracula. He needs to speak with his wife one last time.”

“Are you serious?” You question sitting up and switching off your handheld. “What’s done is done, we shouldn’t alter the past.” You lean back on the sofa and put your feet up. Your sister took a seat across from you on the end table.

“_____.” She says, “Dracula wiped out entire cites and villages. Innocent people that didn’t deserve to die. Maybe if he could see what his wife would’ve wanted for him and their son after her death he’d change his ways and end the war.” You listen to your sister, wondering if it could possibly sway him.

“Okay.” You say, “But what if it doesn’t.” Your words linger in the air as a silence fills the air. Your sister sighs deeply and shrugs.

“Then you come home. In the end, just come home. I can’t afford to lose anyone else.” She said quietly, her eyes drift down to the floor and you pout your lips slightly. You get up to wrap your arms around your sister, pulling her into a hug.

“Alright. I’ll do my best, and I promise to come home to you.” You give her a smile and she holds out her hand. In her palm was a clear quartz necklace.

“This will let you travel back and forth a total of four times. The necklace will become clouded and turn black. After that it cannot be used again, not ever...so I’m begging you to use it wisely. You’re the only one that I trust with this other than myself. I would go but our people need a leader.” She finishes and she places the necklace into your hand. She looks up at you with glossy eyes, she was the emotional one out of the two of you. She wipes a tear before it could fall and she pulls you into another hug.

“Okay, Annabella. I’ll be alright. Stop worrying so much. I didn’t even leave yet.” You chuckle and she laughs moving away. “So how do I use this this thing?”

“How else?” She says getting up and walking over to the other side of the room to pick up two black duffle bags she prepared for you. “Your intent, this will take you to Gresit. Find the Belmont, our distant relative Sypha and Alucard before they set out to kill Dracula. Speak with them and tell them where you’re from and let them know of your mission.” You nod taking the duffle bags, you unzip them to see one packed with guns and ammo. You look at your sister with an arched brow and she just laughs a bit. “If the stories are true, you’ll need them. But, other than that I’ve packed you snacks, clean water, a medic kit and clothes. Just come back if you need anything dire.” You nod and she steps to the side as you zip up the duffle bags. You reach over and pick up your phone and ear buds off the end table. “Why are you taking that? Not like you’ll get service, or electricity” You shrug and sort of roll your eyes.

“Music? Plus I’m sure Dracula’s castle can charge this thing, he’s got all sorts of advanced science and technology in there if I’m not mistaken.” You adjust the straps to your bag and take hold of the necklace between your slim fingers. You weave the chain between your fingers whilst having the crystal rest in the triangle opening your fingers made. As you focus your magic into the clear crystal, a hue of blue light began to flow out of the crystal. It engulfs your entire body in it’s warm light. Your sister watched with her arms hugging close to her body hoping that you’d be okay. You look at your sister one last time and smile. “I’ll see later Anna.” As you focused more, you could feel yourself fading away to somewhere far yet somewhere familiar. You close your eyes and in the brief time that it took you to leave the hotel room, you stood on the outskirts of Gresit. The city was just like how it was told to you by your parents. You stood in awe, at the grand buildings and the beautifully designed church that was standing tall. Though, when you looked around more, you could see that the night hordes had ran rapid through the city when the sun was down. There were people scraping God knows what off the sides of buildings and off their vendor stands. You cover your nose with the sleeve of your jumper. The stench didn’t hit you right away but when it did it made you nauseous. You had on modern clothing, a black knitted pull over sweater with the Speaker symbol on the shoulder. Dark blue jeans and combat boots, though the duffle bags were black they still looked out of the norm for even the people of Gresit to not notice. As you walk through the town square, you could hear the whispers of the civilians talking about you. Your hair was up in a messy bun, a few stray strands blew in the wind as you looked around for any signs of the people that have been talked about from generations to come. You stood on the edge of the town, near a few stables. You didn’t have to keep away from people. They were doing their best to stay away from someone who dressed and appeared strangely to them. You turn your head and heard a young woman speaking to a man over by the stables a few feet away from you. She wore a light blue robe with a hood and her hair was cut short like a boy. You eyes went wide, not believing that you found her. She asked him about a carriage and horses then offered to pay. You froze in disbelief, listening to her talk to the man. Before you knew it she was gone, hauling a carriage away in the direction of the somewhat abandoned part of the city. You quickly catch up to her, the duffle bags slowing you down a bit due their heaviness. “W-Wait!” You call out, Sypha turns around and stops walking the horses alongside her.

“Huh?” She says squinting her eyes a bit, they immediately shift down to your clothes and the bags. “W-What?” She said confused, she held onto the reins and waited for you to come up to her. She was at a loss for words, her eyes wandered to your shoulder and she looks at the speaker symbol on it. She looked even more confused as she looked down at the speakers pin that held her cloak together. “Who-“ she began and then stops. You shake your head and wave your hand in the air passively.

“It’s a long story, but to put it simply. I am a Speaker magician. From the future.” You say, with a straight face. Sypha looks at you a little taken aback but when she laughs. You nod knowing it wasn’t believable and fold your hands together. Sypha stepped back, her smile faded as she assumed a defensive stance. However she stops when your aura matches hers. The same warm light blue. You wave your arms in the air in a circular motion and ice shards materialize in the air. Sypha’s brows raise as you clap your hands together and they turn to snow. She didn’t know what to say at first and the silence was a little unnerving for you.

“Okay...how do I know that you’re from the future and not just crazy?” She says as she crosses her arms. You nod seeing that coming and reach into you pocket to pull out your cellphone. Sypha’s blue eyes grow wide and her jaw drops a little as the screen to your phone turns on. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” You say as she takes and inspects it with childlike curiosity. “So...I’m here to let—“

“How did magic advance this far!” She says opening up a gaming app. The music lightly echoing through the air made her brow knit together.

“It didn’t it’s technology but we do have our ways of amplifying our magic with other objects. With things like crystals.” You say not really wanting to give a history lesson.

“Why are you here?” Sypha hands you back your phone and she let her arms rest at her sides. You reach up to rub the back of your neck and pocket your phone.

“I’m here to try and stop Dracula’s war on humanity. I’m able to contact the dead, with doing that I can have him speak with his wife. Maybe if he sees what’s become of himself through her eyes he’ll change.” Sypha takes in what you were saying, nodding slowly. She wasn’t sure if that would work and truthfully everyone who traveled with her would probably want Dracula dead despite what her plans are.

“Okay, I believe you. We should probably go introduce you to Trevor Belmont and Alucard. I’m sure you know of them since you’re a future speaker.” She chuckled lightly and took hold of the reins again. You walk with her adjusting the straps to the duffle bag once again.

“Well that was easy....do you think I can convince the others?” You ask, “To go along with my plan?”

“Maybe, I am not sure you can do that with Trevor but Alucard may listen to you. But even so, we may still have to kill Dracula if it doesn’t work. Are you ready for that?” Sypha asks curiously. You nod and follow along with her.

“Of course. This bloodshed has to be put to and end one way or another.” You look around at the gloomy city, the people were stuck in a sea of grief and melancholy. Sypha kept her eyes forward and followed the path that lead to where the Dhampir and the Belmont were waiting. You both walk in silence, the sun slowly going down with each passing minute. Soon, both men came into view, from the looks of it they weren’t arguing but they did seem to be displeased in each other’s lone company for so long.

“There they are, let’s go, we’re leaving Gresit by sun down.”

Mod Ree— Hey! Here’s part 1 to a requested fic. Inuyasha style, I hope you enjoy! Part 2--(idk) will be posted soon!!!

[witch-chester]

Wrong Kind of Right Pt. 2

Dean looked everywhere but at the body on the table in front of him. Dead bodies didn’t really bother him, but this one had the top of his skull removed and what was left of the man’s brains sitting in a metal bowl.

“Officially, the cause of death is a brain aneurism. But I’ve never seen anything like this,” the medical examiner was explaining. “Almost his entire brain liquified.”

“The report said his throat was crushed too,” Sam said.

The M.E. nodded. “That was the most normal injury. If you over look the fact there was no bruising or signs of force of any kind.”

Dean cleared his throat. “This isn’t the first death like this, correct?”

The woman nodded. “Third. First one was a local junior soccer team coach. Then a judge. Now him.” She pointed the the body.

“Have you identified him?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. But from the look of his clothes he was well off. Nice suit. Rolex. No wallet. Some bum could have snatched it while he was in the alley though.”

“Do you still have his things?”

“Sure do.” She walked over to the counter and grabbed an evidence bag, handing it to Sam. One of the techs came in. “Excuse me agents.”

“So what do you think.” Dean asked.

Sam opened the bag. “I have an idea. Give me a moment.”

“Well,” the M.E. walked back over. “We identified him. Kinda.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I had them run his DNA. To see if he was in the system.”

“I’m guessing he was.”

“Yep. But as a John Doe. Apparently, this man is responsible for five rape and murders over the past two months.”

“Really?” Dean finally looked at the man. If it was going to be another.

“At least now I can give those families some good news.” She looked at the body in disgust. “Guess karma caught up. Ironically, he killed the woman by strangulation.”

That pricked Dean’s interest. Sam walked over to them. “If you give us the list, me and Agent Armstrong will handle that.” Dean told her.

Dean waited till they were in the impala before asking his brother. “What did you find?”

Sam held up a small pouch that looked to be made of red silk and black ribbon. “Hex bag. Looks like a witch.”

Dean chuckled. “It always is.”

-x-x-x-x-

“Now that is sexy,” Dean whistled as they walked by the cherry red corvette. “I mean, nothing can come close to Baby but it’s nice.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude. Focus.” They walked up the path to the owners door. This would be their third stop and so far no one had given them a hint at witchcraft.

Dean knocked. “I am focused.” The door opened then. His brain went fuzzy for a moment. The woman answering the door was all curves. Rich brown hair was twisted up into a high bun with small, wispy curls around her face. A black bandana with red cherries that matched her lips was keeping them out of her eyes.

“Um, can I help you?” Her hands moved to rest on her hips. Dean’s eyes moved to scan her body more fully. She was short but all woman. She had on black high waisted shorts and a red crop top that had the logo of what must have been a local bar across it. The woman reminded him of a pinup poster.

Sam elbowed him in the side. “Hello ma’am. I’m Agent Armstrong and this is my partner, Agent Bowie.”He held up his fake badge, elbowing his brother again to get him to do the same.

“FBI? Is this about Julie?”

Dean finally found his voice. “Yes. May we come in?”

She hesitated then nodded. She moved to let them in. “Kit, can you come out here?” she called over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” said Dean, flashing a smile.

“Oh sorry. I’m Mariah. Mariah Quordell. I was one of Julie’s roommates.”

“We are sorry for you loss.”

Another woman walked into the room the. She was wearing the same outfit so it must have been a uniform of some kind. Dean looked her over as well. Her figure was not as full but just as curvy as Mariah. A silver piercing at her septum winked in the light. They both seemed to be close in height but it was hard gage since Mariah was bare foot and the other was in heeled ankle boots. And while Mariah was all roses and cream, this new woman,Kit by default, was like warm cinnamon. Her hair was buzzed short and bleached blond. “What’s going on?”

Mariah sat on the couch. “FBI. They’re here about Julie.”

Kit blinked then looked at them. “Did you find the bastard?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Well, yes actually.”

“What.” Mariah straightened. “Really? You have him.” A smile bloomed on her face. Her friend came over and put an arm around her. “Who is he?” Kit asked.

“Well,” Dean started. “We aren’t entirely sure at the moment.”

Both girls looked confused. “I don’t understand. You have the guy but you don’t know who he is?”

Dean sighed and began to explain. Both seemed shell shocked and didn’t say a word as he spoke. Finished, Dean moved to crouch in front of them, taking Mariah’s hand. “I know this is a lot, but we were wondering if you two might be able to identify him.”

She narrowed her chocolate brown eyes at him. “How?”

Sam moved forward. “This picture is graphic, but if either one recognizes him.”

They both visibly flinched at the sight, Mariah gripping Dean’s hand tighter. “He. He may have come to the bar.” Her voice was weak.

Kit pushed the picture away. “We see dozens of people a night. He doesn’t stand out.”

“Did Julie work with the two of you?”

Kit nodded. “Yeah. She got us the jobs.”

Mariah spoke again. “We both just moved here. We met Julie and she helped us out a lot. The job. Letting us move in. She was a good person. Then that monster killed her.” She let go of Dean’s hand. “Forgive me for not feeling bad he’s dead.”

“Your entitled to it.” Dean stood.

“Did either of you know the judge or the couch that also died recently?” Sam asked.

“What does that have to do with it?” Kit snapped.

“They all died in the same way. We were just thinking..”

“Wait,” Mariah cut Sam off. “You guys are here to investigate their deaths? So this wasn’t about Julie at all.”

“I thought you said it was an aneurism,” Kit asked.

“We like to cover all bases.”

Mariah exploded. “This man killed five women over two months and no body did a damn thing. Now three men die from something natural and the fucking FBI is here?”

“Ma’am, I know this is hard,” Sam tried to reason.

“No you don’t!” She snapped. “I want you to leave.”

“Ma’am, I sorry we...”

“Get out!”

Dean put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’ll be going now. Again, we are very sorry.”

“I’ll walked you out.” Kit followed them to the door.

Once they were in the car, Dean slapped the back of his brother’s head. “Nice going genius.”

“Hey! Look I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would react like that. Plus you were to busy drooling over them to get anywhere.”

Dean help up his hand showing a strip of iron across his palm. “Miss Quordell didn’t react to it. I didn’t have a chance to test the other one.”

Sam sighed. “I guess on to the next one.”

Back in the house, Kit glared at her friend. “What the hell was that? Why did you go all psychotic?”

Mariah rubbed her palm from where the iron had touched. “To get them out. They are hunters.”

“Well I know that. It’s kinda obvious.” Kit crossed her arms. “So what now?”

Mariah sighed. “Nothing. We covered our tracks. There is no way they can link us.”

“Hunters aren’t just gunna give up, Sis.”

“I know,” Mariah whispered. “I know.” She rubbed her temples now. “We will run if we have to.”

Kit rolled her eyes. “Great. More running. Can’t we just kill them?”

“You know the rules. Only people that deserve it.”

“Like hunters don’t!”

“They only do what they think is best.” Mariah sat and grabbed her boots. “Let’s just go to work and act normal.”

Kit just shrugged. “Fine. Sure. What ever.”

[xathia-89]

Long Lost Sibling - Masamune

This was definitely going to be an interesting way to spend my time. I had been mistaken for a man after rescuing Nobunaga from the flames of Honno-Ji, given a horse, ridden back to Azuchi before being made a vassal of the made I’d saved. My hair was short and choppy, and I’d covered my assets up fairly well with being on the way back from training. I stuttered on my name, and gave them the gender-neutral form of ‘Natsu’, purposely missing off the two letters that made it a woman’s name.

My African Grey parrot had stuck next to me through all the chaos and was happily listening in on all of the men about the castle to decide who to imitate most likely. He had been squawking in the forest for me until I whistled so he could locate me. They were all amazed and had never seen a bird like him before for certain as I shrugged my shoulders before we continued riding.

I was getting changed when one of the maids walked in without knocking.

We both looked stunned, and I could feel my secret already leaking out.

“Please,” I begged her.

Then a smile crossed her lips. It wasn’t a cruel one, as it lit her eyes up. “Okay, I won’t tell, but you’re going to need help keeping some of the men convinced for any period,” she explained as I finished getting changed.

“What do you mean?” I frowned, my hopes quickly fading again.

“They’ll expect you to pick up a favourite maid,” she laughed. “I expect the treatment of the favourite, which includes you sticking up for me whenever something goes wrong and getting me out of tasks by wanting to ‘borrow’ me,” she explained. “Most Lords have their favourites, and every maid begs to be one. It’s a way of securing yourself,” she smiled. “Plus, I’m now highly curious to see how long the Lords can be fooled.”

“Call me Natsu,” I smiled slightly, understanding why she’d now agree to keep quiet. It was something that would benefit us both.

“I’m Akira,” she replied. A pretty face, I was surprised that she wasn’t already a favourite of any other Lord. “I tend to find that I’m generally not quick enough to capture anyone’s attention, but I guess that you are short for a man has turned a few of the others away,” she added on.

“Well, I seem to be in your debt, so I will appoint you as my favourite then,” I said. “I will need someone’s clothes though, the seamstresses will need to make mine,” I frowned.

“Lord Ieyasu will probably be the best option, I will bring you some of his cast-offs in the morning to change into,” Akira beamed brightly. “I will leave you to it, good night!”

“Night,” I replied, knowing that I would be called upon to get her out of a lot of things in time.

I spent my days being trained with swords and guns by Masamune and Mitsuhide. Ieyasu was also usually present, and they were both surprised when I disarmed Masamune and then had him submitting without any weapons but my body strength.

“You certainly make up for your lack of height and work with it,” Date chuckled as he stood back up.

“If you don’t have it, you can’t use it. You might as well learn how to fight with what you have effectively against any enemy,” I shrugged.

The maids had made my clothing specifically to fit, Akira had been a huge help with making sure my binders were washed regularly and in secret and then getting the adjustments made. I was glad for once that I didn’t have a girly figure, and it made things a lot easier to pass off. I wore a scarf to hide my lack of an Adam's apple and I made sure to carry myself in confidence as Akira came running towards me with a smile.

“Lord Natsu!” She beamed. “Your clothing is all finished now,” she announced to the room. Ieyasu rolled his eyes as I shrugged and followed the energetic maid out.

Akira was the only one allowed in my room to help me dress and make the alterations. She had been dying for a chance to get into her sewing skills, and this was now the perfect opportunity as I absolutely refused anyone else to see me in any state of undress. I had the same style of clothing that Ieyasu tended to wear, so it was basically just making the same things twice in different colours as I favoured the black, with dark scarlet and a rose gold trim for clothing and armour. She also helped me to keep my hair short and ended up styling it in the manner that Masamune had his since we had similar hair.

Yoshi had made himself known around the entire castle and town already. The children in the town loved him, and he had decided that Hideyoshi was the best person to emanate. The maids were always dropping things when he shouted at them for picking up things that were too heavy, and Nobunaga had been caught in the pantry late at night getting the sugar candies by my parrot as well. Hideyoshi wasn’t sure why the parrot had taken such a liking to him, but having a second set of eyes around the place did make the vassal’s job a lot easier. I had noticed that Toyotomi was sneaking Yoshi a few treats even after I’d said not to overfeed him.

“You still look pitiful,” Ieyasu scoffed after another training session. I had bested him on a few occasions now with a sword, though most of my techniques involved disarming him and getting in close with hand to hand combat.

He was pinned to the mat before Masamune could stop anything, I was pushing his face into the straw as I growled in his ear. “Do I look that pitiful to you now, pretty boy?” I threatened.

“Alright Natsu, let’s get you something to eat, and find Akira, she’s good at calming you down,” Date said, struggling to get me off the blonde man.

The maid came swiftly and starting talking about letting off some steam with her, a code we’d developed to stop them getting too close to be nosy. In reality, she gave a really good back massage, and the moans were pretty sensual as well when she got going. Masamune grinned and winked at me as soon as the whole idea was mentioned, I could only roll my eyes in response.

“I think they all get irritated when they can’t pull one on you,” Akira laughed as she attacked a knot in my back.

“Ieyasu needs to let off some steam,” I grumbled, a groan slipping out as her fingers worked their magic.

“He likes to bite everyone’s head off, so he’s going to have to be a patient person,” the maid added, I could hear her smile before a pounding came to the door.

“Natsu! Lord Nobunaga has called a war council!” Hideyoshi yelled, followed shortly by a squawk. “And your parrot won’t leave me alone.”

“It’s your second set of eyes,” I laughed in response, quickly pulling my hamaka up over my exposed binder before getting up.

“Hey, Masamune,” I said, already feeling a little impatient at waiting as our horses were next to each other on the front lines.

“Yeah?” The one-eyed dragon was looking at the same crowd with the same expression I had.

“I bet I can take more of them out than you can,” I grinned.

“Not on your life,” the head of the Date clan smirked as we reared into battle.

Swords were clashing as bodies were falling. It was easier to focus on the fact that this was just the way of life, it was kill or be killed as my time training recruits for a hobby came to mind. I always went to maim someone, but I would never hesitate when the blow was necessary.

“Keep up lad!” Masamune’s voice was full of energy over the sounds of the fight as I laid another of Takeda’s troops to the floor.

“I think you’re being left behind,” I cackled madly before I struck against a blade that I knew was going to be my challenge.

“Now you’re the new one everyone was talking about,” the beautiful man opposite me smiled coldly. “The new vassal to the Devil King,” he scoffed, narrowing his mismatched eyes at me as we began our back and forth.

“Kenshin, they’ve got a woman present!” An eager male shouted out, whilst fighting off Masamune in a frenzied battle.

“I think you need to readjust whatever the hell you use to detect women with, it’s obviously getting confused with the pretty boy here!” I retorted, slashing down to counteract Kenshin’s attack.

His blade flicked up, carving its way through my torso. I managed to rear my horse up to stop it getting any deeper whilst holding an arm across my stomach to try and stem the blood. I needed to get back to the camp as Kenshin’s eyes were now lit up with the prospect of murder. The reigns were kept in the hand for the arm that was pushing down on my torso, whilst I kept parrying off the attacks the madman was doing. The pain was interfering with my ability to think clearly, until Masamune barged into the battle with a snarl, giving me the chance to break through the chaos to get to Ieyasu.

“Lord Ieyasu!” An aide was yelling as Natsu’s horse arrived into camp.

The vassal was unconscious, having lost the fight to stay awake with the pain and blood loss. They dismounted him instantly, carrying him through to the privacy of the vassal’s tent.

The medical kit was strewn across the floor as Natsu began to stir. Tokugawa already had him out of the hamaka and found it strange that there was a tight bandaging around the chest. He was beginning to remove it as the vassal opened his eyes, and found out why the material was there.

Out of instinct, I punched Ieyasu in the face. I panicked, like normal when someone was trying to remove my binder and I didn’t want them to. I didn’t know where I was, I knew I was in agony, and right now, I was half naked in front of the medical man.

“I’m going to tell them now,” Tokugawa grumbled, though he only moved the binder enough to properly treat the wound that Kenshin had delivered. He wasn’t that gentle, I had to keep biting my fingers and the likes as he cleaned the wound. “And you aren’t allowed to move far, or this will get much worse. It probably didn’t help that you had that on,” he commented, gesturing to the binder.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly willing to correct my gender,” I snorted defensively. “I’d be stuck where I’m no good if I told you that I was a woman,” I pointed out, wondering if I would be better off stitching myself shut across the stomach.

Ieyasu was waiting for the arrival of the rest of the warlords with an impatient pace. He was purposely out of hearing range of Natsuki’s tent after wrestling her name from the stubborn woman.

“Lord Natsu isn’t a Lord, he is a she,” Tokugawa announced. “She was hiding her gender from us on purpose.”

“What?” Was the only response that Nobunaga, or anyone, could come up with, and stamped straight over to the tent.

The brat had taken my binder away, and unfortunately, it meant that I wasn’t able to hide my figure as much. I managed to scrounge one of his clean outfits, but it was now quickly obvious I wasn’t a man as the flaps of the tent flew open. I was being glared at by my Lord, and this wasn’t likely to be something that I could talk my way out of. Then Masamune fought his way through.

“Natsuki!” He exclaimed, and tightly hugged me. “I thought you had long disappeared,” he mumbled into my hair whilst keeping me in his arms.

“I did just get slashed across the stomach,” I hissed in pain, trying to loosen Date’s hold on me. “Did you have to tell them?” I rolled my eyes at the blonde man, who had his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“It’s just, slightly obvious that you two are related,” Mitsuhide finally broke the silence, sulking about the fact that two things had escaped his notice.

Hideyoshi was the last to arrive, with a kimono of all things.

“I found it in your things as you said,” Toyotomi frowned at Masamune, who then turned to me.

“No, I am not wearing a kimono,” I argued, already preparing myself to run.

“Yes, you are,” Date stated, his eye already fixated onto me before I dashed out of the tent. ��Come back here Natsuki!” He bellowed, following my purposely confusing route around the camp. “Will someone help me?” He yelled back at the other warlords, who to my benefit were just content to watch on in amusement.

I ran straight into Ieyasu, who then wouldn’t let me go anywhere as Masamune caught up to us. I needed my wound seeing to after the excursion, and then I was out of options for clean clothing and forced into the kimono by the man who then introduced himself as my brother. I was dragged out to the rest of the warlords with a sulk on my face and found that Nobunaga was certainly amused by the whole situation.

“You’re staying here now,” Masamune tried to tell me.

“Just because I’m in a kimono doesn’t mean I can’t fight,” I argued straight back. “You were fine with me fighting when you thought I was a man, just because I’m now a woman doesn’t mean my abilities have changed,” I glared.

“She is still my vassal,” Oda was smirking as he interrupted. “Though you did get injured, and I won’t have you hurting yourself more to prove a point to your brother,” he snapped.

“I would like to see you pass as a Princess though,” Mitsuhide smirked.

“Challenge accepted, I’ll do more than pass as one when we get back to Azuchi,” I growled at the kitsune, leaning over my brother’s arm to make my point known.

Masamune wasn’t letting me ride my own horse, as Hideyoshi was double checking on me constantly to make sure I wasn’t doing anything I wasn’t meant to be doing. Ieyasu was threatening to sew me into my clothes as I had tried to steal another of his outfits the previous night.

“This entire situation is why I wasn’t going to correct any of you,” I sulked on the ride home.

“Well, you’re meant to be a noblewoman,” Masamune reminded me.

“A few days ago, you had to pry me off Ieyasu after he insulted me, I can still do that, you just won’t let me,” I argued.

Nobunaga was laughing as he stayed within hearing range for the entire journey back to Azuchi. Akira came running out to greet us and then found all of the warlords glaring at her as she spotted me.

“They found out?” She asked with a smile. “Yoshi will be pleased to see you, he’s been squawking at us all about not lifting heavy things and then being disappointed there’s no Lord Hideyoshi to follow up.”

“You are in trouble for helping her,” Date growled, dismounting his horse before I was allowed to move.

“She was doing me a favour,” I scoffed, strolling straight past them all. “Anyway, I need another,” I trailed off, and dragged her to the seamstress area whilst explaining the plan to dress me up properly as a Princess.

We could hear the banquet getting underway as a few of the maids were helping to finish preparing me for the event. It wasn’t something I enjoyed doing, but I was determined to prove Mitsuhide all kinds of wrong. My hair was carefully styled and decorated with hairpins, instead of the usual fluffy and windswept style, and makeup was covering my face.

“If they aren’t amazed then I’m taking all of your punishments,” Akira whispered to me before pulling back the door.

I had never seen anyone spit out their drink before. I was guided to sit next to Masamune in the hall, and I was sure that more than a few of the men present were currently arguing with themselves about obtaining me as a bride.

“I think I won that bet,” I smiled to Masamune as I took one of the food pieces offered.

“I’d say so as well, you used to love being a princess,” he pouted slightly.

“I only did this because I wanted to see Mitsuhide’s face, and every second of torture was worth it to see him spit sake out,” I replied. “Otherwise, I will get back into hamaka,” I promised him.

“A toast to our princess,” Nobunaga smirked, as a cup of clear water was pushed in front of me.

“Yeah, she’s Masamune’s sister,” Hideyoshi groaned. Both of them had their drinks spiked with sake by Mitsuhide, and they were both now crashed out on each other. It was impossible to move them for the dead weight of the older sibling on his sister, so they settled with putting a blanket over them both.

“Hard to believe she convinced us that she was a man when you look at her like this,” Nobunaga spoke up. “Though she is perfectly capable of holding her own,” he frowned.

“She’ll become a target on the battlefield,” Hideyoshi immediately argued, knowing what his Lord was thinking.

“She is also perfectly capable of taking on virtually anyone, disarming them and knocking them unconscious,” Ieyasu admitted.

“She will still be a target,” Toyotomi wouldn’t back down, a frown creasing his brow.

I grumbled as I was brought to the next battle again, though this time, I wasn’t going to be allowed to go anywhere beyond the camp. I had taken to stealing Ieyasu’s hamakas when the staff had been told to not return mine. It got the point that Tokugawa was having to pull Hideyoshi in to my room and go through all of my clothes. I wasn’t binding like I had been, but I made a bra of sorts out of fabric to keep myself supported under my clothing. I did make the fantastic point that since I was surrounded by soldiers, then I wouldn’t stand out like I would in a kimono, and Oda was bored of all the complaints. He ordered that all the clothing I had commissioned as ‘Lord Natsu’ were to be returned to me since I clearly had no other intent. Slight adjustments needed to be made now I didn’t need to bind my chest, but the seamstresses were secretly impressed that it took until I was injured to be exposed and would excitedly chat me up about it as Akira was being viewed as an angel for keeping my secret.

Yoshi had decided that he was accompanying me on this trip, and he was learning the new phrases to keep his ‘boyfriend’ happy. I had been teaching Oda some of the modern phrases, and when this one had slipped out, it was immediately picked up across the castle much to Toyotomi’s long-suffering annoyance. My parrot was certainly not helping anyone since I had started rewarding him with treats when he called Hideyoshi ‘boyfriend’.

Masamune wouldn’t let me ride alone, and had me sat in front of him. There had been a lot of commissions given, but I still wasn’t sure of how much to keep pushing. Women were viewed in such a different manner here, though I was allowed to stay armed whilst staying behind in the camp. Ieyasu had given me some lessons in medicine, much to our mutual disgust, since it was going to keep me busy apparently.

I was making sure everything was ready for when the first injuries started. I hated waiting, I could feel my hand itching to run out into the middle of the soldiers and join them in slashing down the opposition. But my Lord’s orders were to stay here. I had to obey Nobunaga, he claimed me still as his vassal despite that I was revealed as a woman. If I kept on his good side then I would be gifted with more leniency than women generally received in this era.

Then a squawk from my parrot received all my attention.

Something was in the bushes near the camp as I grabbed the two short swords that Oda had granted me for ‘protection’. Following my bird was the only thing I could do, despite being forced into a kimono after arriving by my brother as we rushed through the forest to a clearing.

I instantly regretted my decision. Everything had pointed to this being three or four individuals, a small scouting group. I had actually run into the entirety of a scouting squad containing about thirty individuals who all had their attention on me.

“Well, Buddha delivers to those who believe,” one of the men smiled near to me.

“Buddha does many things,” I smirked, unsheathing both of my swords as I blocked the first swipe and started to swiftly make my way through them.

Nips, cuts, a breeze across my back. Yoshi was trying to help by relieving himself on anyone’s face, or diving in to scratch their faces. I was outnumbered desperately until there was a second commotion from the opposite side of the clearing as I floored a fifth follower. They would all have headaches when they came to, but the glimmer in Kenshin Uesugi’s eyes scared me momentarily. Then he stabbed the nearest guy in the torso and focused on securing the area.

“I was hoping there would be enough of a fight for me,” he commented as he guarded my back with his whilst thriving in the chaos.

Those who were unfortunate enough to still be conscious as Masamune, Nobunaga, Sasuke, Yukimura and Shingen arrived were immediately bound up and started with questioning. The unconscious ones would be taken back to camp and then all of them would be at Mitsuhide’s mercy.

I was surprised as a slender finger from Kenshin wiped across my cheek, a concerned expression as he peered closely at me. His skin was marred with my blood as he frowned slightly before his lips were over mine in a lightly passionate kiss.

The whole world seemed to stop, and I couldn’t do anything but smile afterwards, still in shock that it had happened.

Yoshi didn’t approve, he emptied himself over Kenshin before settling on my shoulder and glaring at the warlord.

“Sorry,” I said, breaking the silence that had been woven over everyone.

Masamune instantly pulled me back from the ‘enemy’, yelling something about how I couldn’t do anything like that as Sasuke was trying to get his Lord to disappear with him.

“What were you thinking?” My brother was pacing up and down just behind Ieyasu who was tending to my minor wounds.

“That it was a small group of scouts that needed removing,” I replied. “I sorted the problem out, what is the issue here?” I asked, raising one of my eyebrows.

“You let Kenshin kiss you,” Tokugawa pointed out.

“And Yoshi did then make himself know,” I added on. “It’s a kiss, what’s the big deal?”

“You aren’t allowed to just go kissing anyone as you like,” Masamune looked like he was about to have a meltdown over this.

“Oh, I see, you’re worried everyone will just assume that they can do what they like with me,” I realised. “Good luck to them!” I cheerily said. “I do regularly interrupt training with your scouts and soldiers and then completely thrash them,” I pointed out, as Ieyasu was trying to hide a smirk. “Besides, he didn’t exactly try to stop me fighting, he just helped me to defeat them all,” I paused, biting my lower lip before the camp seemed to burst into life.

Masamune and Ieyasu both shared a look, and I was given the explicit instruction to stay in the tent and not lift a flap as they both disappeared. Typical of men, trying to act all tough as I was contemplating what they’d both do if I decided to call it ‘advice’ instead of an ‘order’, when the flap lifted anyway, and Kenshin let himself in.

“I like that you’ve strolled into the enemy camp with some confidence,” I grinned. “What can I do for you?” I asked, standing up from where I was being treated a few minutes beforehand.

His fingers left a ghostly trail on my jawline, tilting my head upwards. His eyes were haunted by his past as I tilted my head to the side. I was going to drown in those gorgeous eyes of his, he really was as beautiful off the battlefield as he was in the midst of his talents. Then his sight fell onto the cut on my cheek that one of the scouts had given me, and his expression began to twist.

“They should never have considered touching such beauty,” he stated and took me back a little. “I had heard that Masamune’s sister was a talented individual, but to have the ability to fight on the front lines is something I’ve never seen,” he paused and enclosed my fingers in his grip before pulling them to his face. I was entranced for certain. I didn’t know what spell this man had woven, but right now I was caught up in it.

“Natsuki!” Masamune entered the tent with a bark and made me jump. My hand was retracted back to my side, whilst Uesugi looked annoyed. “What did I tell you-”

“I didn’t leave the tent,” I argued straight back. “And you have no right to order me about, I am a vassal of Lord Nobunaga, just because you are my brother doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do!” I hotly stomped my foot and glared at the one-eyed dragon.

“I’d say she’s a lost cause,” Nobunaga’s laugh made me freeze up a little as the warlord let himself in. “I have no idea what you did Kenshin, but you seem to have caught a fireball in your trap,” he shrugged at his enemy.

“He didn’t stop me fighting, he just helped me to make sure I wasn’t overwhelmed,” I sulked, refusing to look any of them in the face.

“It’s clear she lives and breathes with her fight,” Kenshin stated, “To stop her from fighting would be akin to stopping me from doing so. Ergo, impossible. I could always use a hand,” he gave me a small smirk, and my cheeks immediately began to heat up.

“What about Yoshi?” My brother had to bring me back to reality.

“He likes his boyfriend,” I smiled.

“Sugar candies are off-limits,” I heard a squawk, followed by some laughter and then Shingen being told off by all sounds of things.

“Or you could bring him with you by that,” Nobunaga smirked.

[jansen20mckenzie-blog]

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[mechaspirit]

Lost

Author’s Notes: So this is basically the aftermath of what happened after all that crazy shit going down in the final chapter of Endless Summer Book 2. Seriously, that chapter was...painful to watch. I didn’t want to restart it, but I have to just so I can gather all the idols in order to solve the puzzle. Dang, Pixelberry really has outdone themselves in Endless Summer. They know how to break our hearts on this one. Makes me wonder what’s going to happen in book 3.

So onto the actual fanfic here. Everyone in the group, of course, are separated and should still be alive somewhere on the island. Otherwise, the amber idols wouldn’t be activated in that temple. Here, I’m trying to do the possible insights on what actually happened after all that...crazy attempt to escape only to be separated again. And that’s actually worse than in the first book in my opinion. Emotional wise, of course.

Anyway, to those who are really emotional, prepare your tissues. Because...you might need it.

Rated: T

Pairings: MCxJake, DiegoxVaryyn, & CraigxZahra.

Summary: After being separated and going through the terrifying escape attempt, the gangs are left with what’s to come as well as trying to piece through what just happened.

“Diego, just go!”

“No way!”

“He’s trying to stall us! You have to go, now!”

“Hey D. You’re okay? You’re looking really pale right now.”

“Huh?!” Diego sat up straight just to see three of his friends surrounding the campfire, looking at him in concern, “Oh, sorry guys. I’m just...worried about the others. Y’know...”

“Even Yurika?” Raj asked. Seeing his head down and his hair covered his eyes indicated that Raj was correct, “Hey man. It’s okay. We’re all worried for them.”

“I know,” Diego responded as he wrapped his arms around himself, “It’s just that...I have a bad feeling for her. I didn’t want to leave Rika there even after she told us to leave without them. I mean, we did see the top part of the MASADA facility exploded. And now...”

Michelle sighed at the dark haired man’s response, “Look Diego. Yurika’s a tough girl. And she knows what to do with this kind of situation ever since we entered this island. You gotta put more trust in her. Trust me, if it weren’t for her putting others before herself, any of us would’ve been dead by now.”

Both men were surprised to see the pre-med student making an encouraging comment rather than a snarky one. Nevertheless, Raj nodded in agreement.

“Michelle’s right. We just to trust that Yurika and the other’s are fine and that they escaped! Plus, as soon as we find them, we have to save Grace as well. There’s still a lot to do before we leave this island, so don’t fret just yet, D.”

Diego managed to smile a little, seeing encouragement from his two friends. “Thanks, guys. I kinda need to hear it.”

Just then, a cold wind breezed through the campsite and Diego started shivering from the cold. Dammit. Part of him wished that they were at the Elysian Lodge instead, but none of them want to risk staying there in case Rourke and his goons managed to catch up with them and find them there, so they just have to stay at the campsite.

“Diego, you’re cold. Here.”

The Latino man felt a blanket wrapped around him and saw that the blue-skinned, golden-eye elyyshar was the one who gave the warm fabric to him.

“Thanks, Varyyn. But aren’t you cold, too?” Diego said in concern, noting the lack of warm clothing on Varyyn.

“Do not worry. I know how to adapt to the heat,” Varyyn responded, “Besides, you need it more than I do.”

The dark-haired man smiled in a loving gratitude and gently rest his head on the blue man’s shoulder. The latter responded by wrapping his arm lovingly around Diego and holding him close, telling him that he should rest for now since they still have a long journey ahead of them.

After helping Raj putting out the campfire and preparing to sleep for the night, Michelle looked up at the starless sky...and then to the remains facility where they barely managed to escape. The dark blonde hair woman can’t help but wondered what really happened to the rest of the gang. Then, she let out a whispered in prayer.

“Sean...Quinn...Yurika...everyone. Please be alright.”

Cold...Numb...Alone...Freezing...

Those were what Zahra was feeling right now ever since that damn Arachnid commander dragged her down along with him from the helicopter after she manages to electrocute him.

She did vaguely remember seeing Craig reaching out trying to save her, but failed to do so in time. Zahra may not be the most amiable person in the world, but she does care about that dumb jock a lot. No matter how much she tried to push that feeling away. Being on that crazy island made her realized that.

But is Craig still alive along with the others? Did they at least land somewhere safely? If that’s the case, is Craig still worried about her, perhaps maybe even looking for her?

Just then, as if being pulled back to the surface again, the dark hair woman woke up with a jolt, panting really heavily. As soon as Zahra readjusted her senses, and saw that she was in a white room, wearing white pajamas, and lying on a white bed. Zahra could feel white bandages wrapped around her head, and her arm was hooked to an IV as well as a heart monitor.

What the actual hell? Zahra thought, Where am I? This can’t be a hospital.

As far as the hacker genius is concerned, there are no actual hospitals in La Huerta. Hotels? They’ve been to two so far, so yes. Laboratories? No doubt about that. But hospitals? No. Definitely not normals ones unless that scumbag wants his workers to do some experiments or dissections on them. Zahra, who was trying to recover from her fall, still have no idea where the heck is she nor did she knew where Sparky went.

“Well well well. The hacker is finally awake.”

...But Zahra now knows who had found her unconscious. And that voice confirms it. She turned to her captor and glared at him menacingly.

“You...!”

Rourke can only grin in satisfaction as a response.

“Now there’s no need to be hostile like that, Namazi. In fact, I have an interesting proposal for if you’re willing to listen...”

“Ngh...Where am I?”

A young woman, possibly around twenty to twenty-one years old, woke up groggily and found herself on a sandy beach. She could hear the waves flowing and the seagulls chirping. Although the scenery is beautiful, the woman appeared to be more confused than awe with her surrounding. She has no idea why is she lay unconscious on the beach...

...nor she knows she is. Not even her name.

Slowly, the woman approached towards the shore where she can see her reflection above the clear, blue water. She could make out that she had really long, red hair and beautiful, bright blue eyes filled with confusion. Her outfit consisting of a simple white-button up shirt and blue shorts were covered in ashes, which confuses her even more because she couldn’t recall anything that she had done with anything with fire.

Just what the heck happened to her?

Suddenly, a flash appeared before her eyes. The red-headed woman could make out the sound of the alarm ringing, the helicopter flying...and another young woman around her age with long blonde hair and dark green eyes looking back at her in shock and realization.

The ginger can hear her own voice saying, “...I won’t forget you, Yurika.”

“What? Quinn, what are you-”

Then, her visions started to flash in green and that was the last thing that she could remember before everything else ended up in explosions.

Quinn? Is...is that my name? And who is Yurika?

The red hair woman clutched her head. This...this all of a sudden became too much for her to process what’s going on and what really happened to her. Unbeknownst to her, the red-headed woman’s eyes started glowing green again in confusion and remorse...

Somewhere in an unknown part of the mysterious island, a dismantled, burnt Arachnid helicopter landed in the middle of the tropical forest. Sean, Jake, Estela, and Craig were fortunate enough to survive the crash. However, that crash has cost them some medical attention due to the impact from the landings they have before that helicopter exploded.

Luckily, the survivors were able to snag a medical kit left in the helicopter before the explosions and are in the process of patching each other up. Despite their best effort of doing that, none of them are medical experts like Michelle and they wished that the Vietnamese pre-med was here to patched them up because their injuries hurt as hell.

For a couple of them, however, their physical pain from their injuries felt nothing compared to the pains in their heart.

Craig slumped down next to a palm tree and stared down at the sandy ground, looking remorse. The star quarterback noticed this and sat next to his best friend.

“Hey man. Is something wrong?” Sean asked, concerned.

“It’s...it’s nothing,” Craig muttered.

“...It’s Zahra, isn’t it?” Sean heard his partner whimpered slightly, indicating that he was right.

“I...I let her fall, Sean,” Craig cried, burying his head into his knees, “I’ve could run fast enough and grabbed her to safety, but I was too late. She...She-”

Craig couldn’t finish his words and instead, let more tears fell from his dark brown eyes. Sean gently wrapped his arm around his best friend and let the latter cried onto his shoulder. He knew how important Zahra is to Craig, and he also knew that they were starting to become closer again ever since they entered this island.

“Don’t worry, Craig. We’ll find her,” Sean told him, “We’ll find Zahra and everyone else on this island because we aren’t leaving this place without them.”

As he said this, Sean looked across the sandy path straight of them and a worried look crossed his face as he realized that Craig isn’t the only one dealing with his loss.

Meanwhile, a dead look crossed his face as Jake sat against another palm tree, blankly staring at the dark sky. There were no stars shining this time, which certainly fits the mood here. The pilot really wished that he has a flask on him, filled with whatever alcohol there is it the numb the pain inside him.

First of all, not only did Jake found out that his best friend, Mike, was alive, but he also found out that Mike turned out to be one of Lundgren’s lieutenant, Mouse. To make that situation worse, that fuckin’ commander did something to the poor guy to make him a mindless soldier and work for him. Jake could tell that because of the emotionless look Mike gave him while hanging onto to the mountain cliff of the MASADA facility. Part of Jake wished that Mike remained dead because the latter didn’t deserve to go through all of this and he also wished that he could’ve killed Lundgren sooner while he had the chance. Hell, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if he could bring Mike back despite Yurika encouraging him that they should at least try.

Yurika...Tears began to fall from his cerulean blue eyes. The thought of his princess caused the pilot to slumped down and buried his head to his knees. Memories from that helicopter crashing were coming back to haunt him. Jake remembered hearing Yurika screaming Quinn’s name in desperation before ended up slipping out of the helicopter and clinging onto the landing ski for her dear life. Jake didn’t hesitate to abandon the control of the copter, despite Estela, Sean, and Craig cussing at him for doing so just so he can grab the young woman to safety. Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. As soon as their hands slightly touched each other, Yurika’s other hand slipped from the ski and she fell and crashed into the ocean, much to the pilot’s despair.

That was the last straw for him. Jake lost another person close to him, yet again. He lost Mike. He was forced to abandon his mother and his sister. Lost his plane. And now, he lost the love of his life. The one who can keep up with his recklessness and sarcastic banter. The one who continues to impress him with her leadership and quick-intelligent skills. The one who chooses to always be by his side to comfort him, despite his attempts to push her away. The one who revealed her love to him at the campsite on the snowy mountains after he did the same to her. And now...she’s gone. Just a slip away from his fingers.

Estela glanced at the pilot and noticed a familiar dead look on his face. It was the same look she bored when she found out that her mother was killed and it took her couple of days before she finally broke into tears after locking herself in her room. Estela knew what it was like to lose someone important to them, and Jake’s situation was no different. She knew how much Yurika meant to him...to everyone...to Estela herself especially since she always admired Yurika’s honesty and the way she handles the dangerous situation despite not being a skilled fighter herself. It was hard for all of them to handle the fact that she was gone.

The skilled assassin walked up to the crestfallen pilot and silently next to him, letting her presence at the very least calmed him down. It was the same method that her uncle used when he found Estela curled up into a ball and crying from her mother’s death. Funny thing is that neither of them is the kind of people who show affections, yet they’re attempting to comfort another people by sitting next to them and remaining silent, which works sometimes. The young brunette wasn’t sure if it’s going to work on the pilot, but at the very least she was attempting to do so.

As she does that, Estela looked up to the sky and noticed a column of smoke rising from the tip of the volcanic island realizing that their time on the island was far from over.

[blameitonthegirl]

Start a Fire - Part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 6]

To say Aelin was in a bad mood was an understatement. She had a nasty cut in her arm, had slept two miserable hours and now would be obliged to flee from Naples before fulfilling any of her missions.

She couldn't even expect Maeve to find her. She did her part: she left the body in a perfectly good, findable place, with a perfectly good and unique dagger in its heart. But even if Maeve's men were as good as she believed they were, they would need at least one more week to track her. And Aelin couldn't stay in Naples one more week, not after last night.

If only she had the time to interrogate those men... she would at least know who had sent them.  But of course someone had to snoop around and ruin everything, she thought bitterly, shoving her clothes inside her packback. She was sure they weren't Arobbyn's, though. It wasn't his style to send a bunch of unknown men after her. No, Arobbyn's style was to deceive, scheme and explore one's weakness... and then beat you up. Plus, they weren't good enough to be part of the guild. So if they weren't Arobbyn's and they weren't Maeve's — because Aelin was sure that it would be the first thing they would've mention if the Dark Queen was involved —, who the fuck were they? The King? Aelin frowned. It would explain how they knew her face and her alias, but it didn't add up. She was, after all, under his orders — supposedly. If he suspected anything, all he had to do was to summon her back and she would have to obey.

When she had gathered all her — few — belongings, she stopped in the middle of the room and sighed. She was so tired of running. So tired of looking over her shoulder, being haunted by ghosts and hunted by monsters. But she had made a promise to a friend, and she couldn't run away for good just yet. She had to think in another way to save Nehemia's country, some other way that didn't involve Maeve.

She scanned the room one more time and rolled up her sleeve to make sure her arm was not bleeding again. After sullying two towels with blood — which Aelin promptly burned and thanked god by the lack of fire alarms in italian's flats —, the cut had finally started to close and she was able to make a dressing. Aelin knew that she needed stitches, but she couldn't be bothered right know.

She grabbed the keys and went to the door. At least her landlord would be happy, since she had paid enough for a month worth and would only be staying two weeks. That should cover the towels.

She opened the door. And froze.

Because that silver-haired man was standing right in front of her, with a murderous look in his face.

— —

The look of surprise in the girl's face only made Rowan more angry. How dare she, after toying with him the way she did last night, show surprise because he was standing in her front door? Didn't she know what he was doing here, hadn't led him here?

The hours after he discovered that Pyro was her didn't do much to sooth his anger. First, Rowan was obliged to flee before he could ask any more questions to those men. Apparently, someone in the neighborhood got tired of the fight and called the police. But he couldn't waste anytime, so he left as soon as he heard the first siren, and immediately called Vaugh. If anyone could help him right know, Rowan thought, it would be Maeve's hacker. And he was right. He had just checked out of his hotel room when Vaugh sent him a list with all the rooms rented in the past three weeks inside a two kilometer radius with the club as its center. Rowan wasn't sure about this last condition, but he had this feeling that she wouldn't go to a club far of the place she was staying.

And although the list Vaugh had sent was relatively small, he spent the last four hours asking very sleepy and cranky and foul-mouthed landlords about a girl who could've rented their place, and probably hasn't showed herself to anyone. He was almost in the end of the list when a man said to him he had rented his place to someone called Ash Smith. All the contact was made online and the money deposit was unidentified. There you are, Rowan thought when the man finally passed the address, moved by Rowan's story of his search for a lost sister.

Rowan said to himself that he was in such a state because he hadn't slept and was forced to knock in people's door and invent stories to know her whereabouts. He’d even smiled to people, for god's sake. It was not because his pride and ego were bruised. It was not because she had found him before he found her. It was not because she clearly was in that club to taunt him, to show how smart she was. And, above all, it was not because, in daylight, her golden hair shined brighter and her eyes sparked more than Rowan could believe it was possible.

— —

"You're coming with me," he said through gritted teeth.

Aelin raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore how fast her heart was beating.

"You know, you're the second person that said this to me in a period of...", she said, faking concentration, "six hours. I must warn you that the first guy didn't like how the conversation ended."

She pretended to be unconcerned, but inside she was tense trying to analyze the situation. Who really was this guy? How did he find her? What would be better, to flee through the window or to try to pick her remaining dagger strapped in her lower back? By the look he was shooting her, it was obvious this wasn't a happy coincidence. She took a step back and he entered the room.

He crossed his arms, what made evident just how strong they were — as if Aelin hadn't noticed that the night before — but his eyes — his shiny and intense green eyes — didn't leave hers.

"I know, I saw the dagger you forgot in his eye. That's why you will not make any sudden movements unless you want one in your heart to replace the two you lost."

He uncrossed his arms and Aelin narrowed her eyes. He was now holding a dagger in his right hand.

Shit.

She tried to remain calm, and waved her hand dismissively.

"Look, I have no idea what you are talking about. I know that we didn't exactly hit it off last night, but you can't come with a dagger to a girl's house just because you got dumped."

That wasn't the right thing to say. Before she could react, he’d grabbed her wrist with an iron grip and had pulled her closer, holding the dagger near her neck. The arm he was holding was the one injured, and Aelin felt a pang of pain.

"Don't you dare to say you don't know who I am, Pyro. Your little act of last night was enough. You are coming with me."

Aelin raised her head and faced him, pain forgotten, her own blood now boiling. To hell with caution.

"So let me be clear, you bastard. Yes, I am Pyro, and yes, I did throw a knife in a man's eye last night. But I have no idea who you are and what do you want from me, so you better let me go right now."

His expression seemed to show doubt for a instant, but it hardened again before she could be sure of anything. 

"Do you expect me to believe that you coincidentally met me last night, without knowing that Maeve sent me?"

Aelin couldn't mask her surprise. She even forgot he was still with a dagger near her neck . 

"Wait, you are Maeve's?"

He took a step back and retreated the knife, but didn't release her wrist.

"Like you didn't know", he snarled.

Aelin tilted her head and couldn't help the smile that came up. That changed things considerably. If this man were really Maeve's, he was the one Aelin was looking for. She could carry on her plan to help Nehemia. Perhaps she wasn't so out of luck as she'd thought.

"You know what? Your charming self convinced me. I guess I'm going with you after all."

He looked at her with suspicious, his green eyes narrowing and the snarling — which Aelin was starting to think was permanent — never faltering. After a moment of consideration, he released her wrist, but didn't put away the dagger.

"If this is your attempt to trick me, Pyro, you...", he started.

"Yeah, yeah, you're going to stab me to death. Got that part." Aelin waved her hand again, but in doing that, she noticed that her arm was bleeding again. She sighed.

"Can I get my aid kit in my bag?", she said, rolling her sleeve up slowly. "My wound seems to have open, despite your delicate manners."

He looked at her arm and his face flashed again with anger. Like it was her fault to have been ambushed. Insufurable bastard.

He finally put away his dagger.

"I'll do it. I don't trust you with a needle either. Sit." He pointed to the chairs near the dining table, and marched towards her backpack.

"What, do you think I'll kill you with a needle?" She could do that, but he didn't need to know it. Yet. "Besides, if you wanted to look through my stuff, all you had to do was ask", she said, trying to tease him. 

She wasn't feeling very well, though. The lack of sleep and the blood loss was taking their price. When was the last time she ate? Yesterday morning? Does booze counts?

She sat to prevent the dizziness, trying to pretend she was doing it unwillingly. He returned with her aid kit, still looking angry, and sat in front of her. He prepared the needle and the line, and started to work in her arm silently.

His hands were surprisingly gentle, and the atmosphere in the room changed so fast that Aelin moved uncomfortable in her chair. He shot her a warning look, but that reminded her the way he looked at her last night, when Aelin still believed he was just a gorgeous man in the club — despite his acusations — and her only goal was to bed him. She must'd been really drunk to not notice that the threatening aura around him was an indication of something more. 

"So, you are part of Maeve's cadre?", Aelin asked, trying to shove away the memories of last night. "Who are you?"

He didn't looked up, but talked after a moment.

"Rowan."

It was the second time that morning that Aelin couldn't suppress the surprise in her face. Rowan Whitethorn, the Anemoi, and second general of Maeve's cadre. Maeve’d sent one of the best trackers in the world after her. People said that no one could escape Anemoi, because the very wind told him its secrets. And when he found his target, few lived to tell the story. 

Oh my god, I wanted to bed the Anemoi.

[roseykai-blog]

Enjoy The Silence [I]

Summary: Mingyu is everything but forward. He may be grateful that you saved his life that night but when it comes to your feelings, you’re at a loss. 

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Admin: Ana

ETS Masterlist

“The play we are putting on for our winter showcase is something of elegance with the aesthetic of song Enjoy the Silence. It is a romance between a girl with ambition who gets sucked in by the intoxicating aroma of a heathen who has no other intentions other than to ruin her innocence,” your teacher boomed throughout the dance studio. You sat there, stretching out your legs as, preparing for what the day had to offer you, attention drawn to the woman in front as she explained the new assignment. “Our leading lady with be played by none other than our honor student, Y/n. We expect great things this year from you, my dear.” The rest of the class let out an applause as you felt your rosey cheeks flair with embarrassment. “Alright class. Let’s start with some of our basics.”

You had somewhat of a reputation to live up to when it came to your dancing. You were known for your elegance, being the center of attention as the honor student at your dance school. Sometimes, it was overbearing, the constant expectation of nothing but perfection. You had a name to live up to, something that couldn’t be taken lightly.

The sun was shining that morning through the glass window of the dance studio. The beams of light would bounce off the hardwood floor, bringing in the natural light that cascaded down the walls and reflected off the mirrors on the west side of the wall. You felt at peace when you were in the studio, at home even. You spent hours here, being that you were always practicing for some sort of performance.

“I’m excited about the play,” your friend said, stretching his leg out on the beam, preparing to practice his part with you. His brown hair was pulled back with a headband, letting his natural skin glow with the rays of the sun hitting his face in the right spot. “I’m a huge fan of the song.”

“That makes two of us,” you replied, lacing up your slippers, letting the ribbon hit your skin softly as you tried to straighten the silky fabric. You tied the knot tight enough that it wouldn’t slip middle of practice but loose enough it wouldn’t hurt if you fell. Minghao reached out his hand, letting your take hold as he helped you to your feet. You thanked him, taking his hand as he lead you to the middle of the dance floor, starting the music so that you could get on with your normal practice.

Minghao was the top male dancer in your graduating class, always playing the love interest in the plays you two did together. If that wasn’t enough, your feelings for him were also as strong as it felt when you were dancing with him. His passion and enthusiasm was somewhat of an attraction to you, always drawing you in and keeping you captivated. You had a no date rule in your studio, being that you weren’t allowed to date anyone inside your class which was a bummer for you. That, and his love for his girlfriend Alice, going strong on a two year relationship.

It didn’t matter in the end. You didn’t have time for a relationship. Instead, you lived vicariously through the plays and characters you played. It was enough for you and you were at peace with the idea.

Practice always came to an end around noonish, giving you time to wash up and get ready for other classes throughout the day, ending with you up at your waitressing job at the bar that was down the street from your house. You didn’t have a choice when it came to work, it was so you could go to school and live comfortably in the expensive city you lived in. As soon as you graduated, you knew you’d be on to bigger and better things, it was all just a matter of patience.

“A new play already?” your friend Haru said, carrying a tub full of used dishes. She set them aside, placing her hand on her hip as she leaned against the counter of the kitchen. “Didn’t you just finish one?”

“That was the spring formal,” you explained to her. “Our school likes to keep the dancers busy. There’s no downtime.”

“They should at least give you a break,” she shook her head in disbelief. “You work yourself too hard.” She wasn’t wrong. You were always busy with your dancing, every break you had been dedicated to your work. You never really complained about it though, never having a reason too. Other than having bloody feet from too much pressure or small bruises from clumsy mistakes, you loved doing what you do.

“I’m okay, Haru,” you eased. “I’m excited about this one. It being one of the biggest showcases where recruiters from big dance companies attend, I have a lot on the line.”

“Okay just take care of yourself,” he replied, taking the tub of dishes into her hands once more. “You have a table.” She nodded her head over towards the entrance to a group of boys standing there, waiting to be seated. You straightened your apron, fixing your appearance as you walked over, greeting the group of men.

“What brings you out tonight?” You asked, trying to start a conversation of the customers.

“Just friends,” one replied, sliding into the booth next to his friend. “Four beers, please.”

“Coming right up.” You took off behind the counter, getting them their drinks and coming back over, placing it on the table. They were a bit of an intimidating group of boys, loud and straightforward. You didn’t care too much as long as they tipped you.

This was your day, every day. You would practice, go to class, practice some more, then go to work. It was hard but it was something you had grown accustomed to. You didn’t have much to complain about.

The day had ended, having closed the restaurant that night, leaving pretty late. It wasn’t that much of a walk from the restaurant to your house, plus the streets were always busy, no matter what time. It was the city that never sleeps, always having some sort of event going on.

It was a peaceful night, the city more alive than usual. You loved to admire the lights of the city as you strolled down the streets of Seoul. It was beautiful and you were in love with where you had lived. You came to your building, noticing out of the corner of your eye something down the small alley next to your door. You couldn’t help but let curiosity take over your thoughts, walking down the narrow path, coming across a vulnerable man laying on the floor. You rushed to his side, moving the hair from his face, his nose bleeding and his eye bruised. “Oh my god, sir are you okay?” He let out a groan, wincing at your touch as you tried to move his hair from his face. “Come on.” You struggled, lifting his heavy body to his feet, him stumbling into you.

What on earth are you doing? You asked yourself as you wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading him towards the front entrance of your apartment complex. You dragged him to the elevator, pressing the 8th floor button, growing impatient as it slowly passed each floor. The doors swung open, letting you go down the hall to your door, letting you unlock it as you dragged the man with you. You set him down on the couch, rushing to grab some sort of first aid kit to help him clean his wounds.

You sat in front of him, pressing the damp rag to his wound, causing him to wince back in pain. You retracted your hand, concerned that you had hurt him while doing so but he motioned for you to continue, so you did. You cleaned the blood from his face, cleaning his wound with rubbing alcohol so it wouldn’t get infected. He was exhausted and weak. He leaned his head against the couch pillow, letting his eyelids flutter shut as you began to clean up the mess you had made while helping him.

You let him rest as you closed the door to your bedroom. Your mind raced with questions as to why he was hurt so badly. What had happened to him that he ended up in the alleyway of your apartment? You didn’t have the energy to deal with this at the moment. You rested your body on top of your comforter, falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, waiting to ask questions the following morning.

You sat there in front of the boy as he slept peacefully on your couch. His features were soft as snoozed, his lip swollen and his eye turning a shade of purple. You felt a pit in your stomach as you walked away, grabbing water from your fridge, setting it down in front of him so that when he woke up, he would having something to hydrate him. You admired his beautiful features from afar, sitting on the far side of the room. You debated whether or not you should wake him, ask him questions or to just kick him out.

You can’t do that.

You were pulled from your thoughts as he shot up in a cold sweat, wincing in pain, immediately falling back down, bringing his fingertips up to his lip, feeling the cut. “Careful,” you cooed, walking over and taking a seat on the coffee table, handing him the bottle of water. “Drink this.” He raised an eyebrow before taking the bottle into his hand and bringing it to his chapped lips. He let out a sigh of relief, handing you the bottle to put the cap back on. “I have some clean clothes for you. You’re more than welcome to use the bathroom to clean up.” He looked over at you, running his hand over his damp hair from the sweat that had formed.

“Who are you?” he finally spat out.

“Y/n. But maybe I should be asking you that question.” He lifted his body, swinging his long legs over the edge of the couch, resting his head back.

“Mingyu,” he slurred. “My names Mingyu.”

“Well Mingyu,” you exhaled loudly. “Care to explain why I found you almost dead last night down the alleyway?” He shook his head as if he was trying to erase the memory in that moment but had failed when he let out a deep growl, leaning his body onto his knees.

“Just some dumbass guys,” he managed to get out. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing to me when I had to drag you all the way up here.” He looked up from his hands at you, almost glaring but realizing you had done him a favor.

“Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath. You rolled your eyes, over his ungrateful attitude, throwing him the clothes you had set out for him. He took them into his hands, stumbling over to the bathroom door and making his way inside, locking the door behind him.

“Damn it Y/n what the hell are you doing?” you cursed out loud, rubbing your temples to subside the forming headache. You shook your head, trying not to let his attitude get to you but it had really bothered you that he had been so harsh. Then again, he had been through a lot in the last 24 hours, maybe he just needed some time.

You tried to let it slide by draining our your thoughts by turning on your music, Pachelbel's canon booming through the speakers. You walked through an old routine of yours, stretching your body out so that when you went over your new part, your body would be loose and able to withhold the pressure of the new choreography.

“Your body is too stiff,” you heard his voice boomed throughout your practice room. You snapped your head over in his direction, glaring at his insensitive comment.

“Who are you to say I’m too stiff?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He smirked, walking over in your direction, placing his body behind you. You didn’t really notice before but he was quite beautiful. His defined facial features, his black hair cascaded perfectly over his forehead. His built torso pressed against your back as he spread your arms out, moving your body in a motion that was smooth and in beat. You felt your face go bright red as his hands trailed down to your hips, shift your body so that your leg was high above you, your arms reaching out. “I’ve done this dance a million times.”

“I know you have. I saw your performance in the spring,” he replied, removing himself from you, leaning against the bar you had set up in the small space in your apartment. Having a studio apartment came to your advantage when it came to your practicing. You lowered your body back into your resting position, giving him a confused look.

“Do you dance then?” you asked, out loud. He shook his head and laughed.

“I don’t. But I know what good figure is when I see it and you are too tense for this song.” You were rather confused as to why had such a big input in your dancing when he, himself not being a dancer himself.

You glared at him before you let out a sigh and slapped your hands down to your sides. “Well okay, then Mr. Know-it-all. Show me then. Show me how to be less tense.” He shrugged, moving you to the side so he could take your spot. He did exactly what you had done minutes before, doing it perfectly with one try. “Don’t dance, my ass!”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, bringing his body into resting position. “I just go to a lot of plays.”

“You don’t seem like the type to,” you scoffed.

“What? A man with earrings and tattoos can’t go to plays and admire the classical rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon in a dance?” He smirked, walking past you and into the living room. He grabbed his dirty jacket from the couch, pulling it on over the clean white shirt you had let him borrow that was your older brothers. “Thank you, Y/n. I hope to see you again.” And with that, he left you in utter confusion.

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You only need to focus the red light on the area you want to treat moving the device in a circular motion for the rays to distribute on the skin evenly. The whole experience is painless and without any side effects. You will notice your skin getting smoother within eight weeks. Baby Quasar Quasar MD PLUS [amazon box="B009XUMC4U" grid="1"] The Baby Quasar Quasar MD PLUS was made to deliver quality treatment to people with great skin concerns. The device deal with skin related issues such as wrinkles and acne. It is very similar to the Baby Quasar plus. However, it comes with a bigger head that covers a larger area allowing for a quicker treatment time. The device is cleared by the FDA to treat wrinkles all over the face. The device should be used for three minutes on each section for five days in a week. After the first eight weeks, the treatment can change to 2 or 3 times a week. RxED - 660nm Red Light Kit [amazon box="B01MYDG8FC" grid="1"] The RxED red light therapy device helps in the treatment of Pain and inflammation brought about by Arthritis, injury, and sore joints. The light used enhances the blood flow in the body cells and helps in the relaxations on the muscles. Health practitioners all over the world use the device to improve exercise performance and recovery. It is as well used to improve skin texture. It has a zoom function that helps in point illumination during red light therapy sessions. Read Next: Best Laser Hair Removal At Home Understanding the History of Red Light Therapy Scientists in the 1990’s first introduced the use of red light as they were looking to grow plants in space. They later found that the red light from light emitting diodes was instrumental in promoting growth and the process of photosynthesis in the cell the plants. It was then that they begin to look at the potential application of red light in medicine. Over time, the use of red light therapy has been diversified. Currently, you can find redline beds at salons meant to get rid of cosmetic related skin issues such as the occurrence of stretch marks or wrinkles on the face. Red light therapy is as well used in a medical setting to deal with more severe issues like slow healing wounds, psoriasis and to help the side effects of chemotherapy for cancer patients. Extensive research has been conducted for several years with several clinical trials showing somewhat positive results when it comes to physical performance, muscle recovery, sleep, inflammation, joint pain, and many other fields. The best part of the treatment is there is no use any medication, chemicals, invasive procedures and the side effects commonly associated with these methods. [su_note note_color="#edfac9"]But how does it work? How is it that the wavelength of red and near-red has positive effects on the human body?[/su_note] How does red light therapy work? Excellent red light therapy is used to deliver concentrated wavelengths of red light to the skin and body cells without producing any dangerous UV light or excess heat in the process. The process involves you sitting or standing near the device emitting the red light for a few minutes a day. The bigger the surface area the red light covers, the more it can get absorbed into your body cells. The red light has been tested and proven by photo-medicine researchers to provide optimal health benefits. Researchers have identified that in the broad spectrum of light, the red light is the one that stands out and best suited to provide excellent and healthy conditions. The red light therapy incorporates the wavelengths in the mid-600 nanometer range and the mid-800. Once the red light is absorbed in the skin, it produces a biochemical in the cells charging the mitochondria. With the mitochondria energized, they can create more ATP allowing cells to function more efficiently, to repair any existing damage and to rejuvenate themselves. One significant benefit of red light therapy is that it is very different from using an intense pulsed light or laser therapy. The red line therapy does not cause any damage to the skin surface. When you use pulsed light or laser therapy, you induce controlled injury to the outer skin layer stimulating collagen in the skin to promote regrowth. The light from a red light therapy gets into the skin only 5 millimeters deep. Red Light Therapy Benefits and How Red Light Can Solve Them With the benefits of skin regeneration seen, researchers have tried to use red light therapy to take care of several skin conditions successfully. Such conditions include anti-aging, acne, wrinkle prevention, rosacea, and sunburn. Red light Therapy on Acne After testing the effect of red light on the skin with acne, researchers have noted that the light is detrimental to certain species of microorganisms especially those linked to infections, tooth decay, and acne. It shows that unlike the other beauty products that help in dealing with thy symptoms of acne, the red light will get to the root cause and destroy the acne causing micro-organisms. The microorganisms have a light-sensitive pigment in their bodies that erupts when exposed to the red light due to specific destructive chain reactions in the body. The organisms are dealt with without any harmful effect on the body cells. [su_note note_color="#edfac9"]11 Best Acne Treatment  Reviews That Actually Work[/su_note] Red Light Therapy on Wrinkles Red light supports the normal working of the skin cells. It can slow down the aging process by preventing the excessive accumulation of collagen that is often seen by excess wrinkles and sagging of the skin. Collagen plays an essential role in the skin as it offers a support structure to our healthy skin cells. However, at times when the body is under stress or inflammation occurs, collagen is overproduced leading the development of wrinkles, fine line, and sagging skin over time and in some extreme cases scar tissue. Red light therapy energizes the body cells easing the stressful state of the tissues and allowing the skin to get back to its normal working conditions producing only the required collagen making the skin firmer an reducing the rate of aging. The health and beauty world is filled with a lot of misconceptions when it comes to collagen. Several people think that collagen is always good. To that effect, several beauty products market their products selling the aim of increasing collagen production in the body. There is no doubt about the importance of collagen. However, if not checked carefully, excess collagen may lead to the development of wrinkles and even acne scars. Red Light Therapy on Hyperpigmentation When you expose your skin to red light, the cells receive energy that allows them to get back to their standard functionality. In this respect, when the skin becomes hyper-pigmented as a result of exposure to the sun when you expose the skin to red light, the effects are reversed. In the same way, if the skin has pigmentation disorders such as albinism or vitiligo, the red light helps by increasing the production of melanocyte cells, which are responsible for the production of melanin. They as well take care of any auto-immunity problems that lead to the depigmentation of the skin. Red light therapy for weight loss Losing weight is one of the hardest problems to get rid of and people with weight issues will try anything from dieting to exercising to taking supplements and other weight loss drugs. Some of these treatment options may work for some people but not for others. Obesity or excessive weight if left untreated may cause other problems such as heart diseases, poor blood circulation, fatigue, and high blood pressure among many others. One of the more advanced methods of losing weight today is by using red light therapy for weight loss. The good thing is you can use the non-invasive devices from the comfort of your home.  Red light therapy helps with the weight loss by doing the following things’ Reducing appetite Improving the body energy levels Improving the loss of fat both systemically and locally Maintaining lean tissue muscles Red light therapy for psoriasis Psoriasis is one of the most common skin conditions after eczema. It affects people of all ages including children. Treating psoriasis is not easy and almost no treatment regimens work effectively to eliminate the problem. Psoriasis leads to itching, the appearance of rashes, flaking and skin redness. Many people use creams, ointments, anti-allergy meds and prescription drugs to eliminate psoriasis most of which have limited effectiveness and side effects. Now some people are turning to another kind of treatment for more effective results. This treatment is red light therapy for psoriasis. The therapy treatment reduces skin inflammation and itchiness. It also speeds up the healing process of the skin by penetrating deep into the tissue to kill the cells that cause the problems. The therapy is painless, non-invasive and safe. Red Light on Hair Growth [Before & After] A research conducted on 680 patients indicated that 9 out of 11 people were found to have significant improvements in their hair count and density. Red light therapy stimulates the hair follicles jumpstarting hair growth. Successful hair regrowth depends on the time you start the treatment. The type of hair loss as well is essential. If the hair follicles are dead by the time you are beginning the red light therapy, hair will not grow. Red light is not able to stimulate dead hair follicles. You should consider starting therapy if you have temporary hair loss that comes about as a result of side effects from medication, surgery, stress, menopause or even male pattern baldness. The therapy takes two to three days for significant results to be seen. If an area does not have hair follicles, then the hair will not grow. Additionally, it cannot be used to thicken facial hair. Red light therapy has as well been seen to increase the amount of testosterone in both males and females that later instigates the growth of body hair. Summing Up When it comes to skincare, red light therapy is the only method that provides result without any unnecessary side effects. Getting a red light device is a good investment as it can not only address aesthetic matters but has also been seeing to deal with the root cause of health and beauty related issues. The results are not instant. However, with consistency, you can experience the benefits over some time. Once you finish the red light therapy, you will no longer have any need for masking creams to hide away your acne scars or even anti-aging creams. Your skin will become flawless and compact giving you the confidence you need throughout the day. Best Handheld Led Light Therapy Device [amazon bestseller="Handheld Led Light Therapy Device"] Bài viết đã xuất hiện lần đầu tiên tại https://www.cosmeticnews.com/red-light-therapy-reviews/?feed_id=2198&_unique_id=5e79bba23b6d6 #cosmeticnews #janebrody #haircare #makeup #skincare #skinconcern #beautydevices

[menbehindthemirror]

Since our last vlog, it didn’t make much sense to do video updates over December as we weren’t together much – after our blitz of pharmacy and web agency meetings, we were able to crack on with most of our to-do list independently, so we left the rural idyll of Burley in Wharfedale and worked from our homes in London and Leeds.

We’ve made good progress since December, and are on track with where we wanted to be, but the unavoidable delays that are stopping us from being able to launch RIGHT NOW are frustrating. Whether it be turnaround times with the web agency, or the 90-day lead time for receiving government approval to sell medications online, or delays in product and packaging deliveries from suppliers, we know we just need to be patient, but at the same time we just really want to be in launch mode, growing the business and making sales. The pre-launch phase is very introverted and internally-focussed, and it’s neither of our natural domain. Anyway, it is what it is. We’re just focussing on making sure we get all the internal pieces in place at the highest quality so we’ve got the best platform for when we launch.

Here’s the main updates of what we’ve been doing since early December and what we’re focussing on now.

We’ve firmed up our branding and logo

We had a full day workshop with our web agency in early December to firm down the branding. We already had a clear idea on our target audience and how we wanted to the brand to come across. It’s simple really - we want to sell products to people like us and a lot of the people we’re mates with.

Our target audience aren’t narcissistic Love Island wannabes, over-obsessed about their looks and living life for the ‘gram, but nonetheless, we want to appeal to guys that have a bit of get up and go, and believe it’s important to take pride in their appearance whilst maintaining perspective on the more important things in life. For men like this, we believe convenience and ease can be the tipping point on whether they’ll make a decision to buy something or not. A base assumption of our proposition is that by providing a really convenient ‘whole service’ that educates men on the causes of common health and wellness issues; provides easy access to quality treatments; as well as the facility to easily purchase and receive treatments to their home without the need to see a GP or visit a Pharmacy, we’ll make the buying decision a no-brainer. If we can make sure to deliver this experience in an ultra-responsive way and wrap everything within a slick brand, then all the better.

So, anyway, we needed a logo to reflect the sort of vibe that would appear to these type of men. Something slick and cool; modern rather than flashy; but also warm - we’re a health and wellness brand so need to come across as trustworthy and open.

Our agency mocked up a few examples which we put to a vote on Insta. Here’s the countdown.

 3) In third place:

We like the slickness and imagery of the double M on this, but felt it was too angular for a health/wellness brand.

2) In second place:

We like the word mark on this one, but felt the logo was a bit too simple/generic.

  1)      In first place

This got the most votes by a decent margin, and we liked it too. However, it still didn’t feel quite ‘right’. We didn’t love it. The logo looked too sharp, and for a health & wellness brand, we felt it was important that it came across warm. So we thickened the logo, changed the font and ‘voila’ – our final logo:

We’re really pleased with it.

Pharmacy & GP Discussions

Because we’ll be selling a range of prescription (and non-prescription) medication, we’ve needed to partner up with GP’s (who will issue prescriptions off the back of online consultation forms generated through the site), and Pharmacies (who will receive the prescription order from the GP, dispense the medication, package it into our bespoke packaging, and arrange delivery to the patients home). Our main focus after starting the business in November was getting these partnerships in place. We’ve now agreed deals with two Pharmacies (we’ll provide more details on these later) plus a GP, with a few others expected to sign shortly. So we’ve been pleased with that, but we’ve got more work to do to tie down all partnerships over the next couple of weeks.

There’s been a few complications along the way. The GP who agreed to work with us then had to backtrack due to having too many other commitments. Complications with another GP who had issues securing the additional medical insurance needed to cover them for online consultations at a so-far-unlaunched start-up.  The difficulties of finding GP’s with both the shared vision of what we’re doing, as well as the entrepreneurial drive. But over the last week we’ve had some really positive discussions and are confident we’re now good on this front.  

Product Sourcing

For launch, we’ll have three main product lines - Hair, ED (erectile dysfunction) and Teeth.

Sourcing the ED products is simple – all three products in our launch line-up, Sildenafil, Tadalafil and Viagra Connect, can all be easily sourced by our partner pharmacy via their existing arrangements with their pharma manufacturers. The same applies for our prescription hair growth pill, Finasteride. The pharma manufacturers have slick supply chains that mean they can arrange two deliveries a day, so we don’t need to bulk buy lots of meds in advance – great for cashflow. All of the meds (apart from Viagra Connect) are available in generic form, meaning we can provide the product in our own branding and packaging at price competitive rates.

For the Hair category, we’re looking to launch with a bundle of products that prevent hair loss. These include the only two medically proven treatments in the world for male pattern baldness – a daily pill treatment Finasteride (effective in 9 out of 10 men) and a topical spray called Minoxidil (effective in 2/3rds of men). We’re complimenting these products with Biotin Gummy Vitamins, which strengthens hair follicles, and a Shampoo with ingredients such as Ginger, Copper Peptide and Sophora Flavescens, which have been shown to stimulate healthy hair.

Minoxidil has been a lot trickier to source, as the only licensed option on the market is a branded solution called Regaine. This is a problem because Regaine is expensive and it has a high alcohol content so can sometimes inflame the scalp. It's also expensive to buy-in, so we’d find it difficult to make worthwhile margins, and we also wouldn’t be able to use our branding on the packaging, ruining the aesthetic of our bundle pack. We’re still working with a few specialist pharma suppliers with a view to getting a bespoke low or zero-alcohol Minoxidil formula that our GP’s can prescribe as an alternative – this is one of the key streams we’re working on this week.

For the remaining products - Biotin Gummies, Shampoo, and the Teeth Whitening kits, we scoured Google, searching different UK Manufacturers and Suppliers, as well as using Alibaba – the Chinese ecommerce giant that seems to sell everything.

The key with product sourcing is finding a supplier who can deliver:

1.      Low minimum order quantities (MOQ’s). A lot of manufacturing companies only go into production off the back of custom orders, and would often require minimum orders of 10,000 units. We needed to find a supplier who was able to accept orders for 250-500 units to begin with,

2.      Own-label products. Everything we’ll be selling will be under the ‘Man Behind The Mirror’ branding. Own-label is easy if you’re ordering high minimum orders, but getting own-brand and low minimum orders can be tricky.

3.      High-quality products from a high-quality supplier. It’s important that every product we sell on the site is high quality and effective, and we needed to make sure the suppliers we worked with are legit. That's difficult when they're on the other side of the country, but Alibaba has a good supplier ratings system, so we focussed on working with suppliers that had plenty of positive reviews on the site.

4.      Great prices. Obviously.

For the Gummies, we found a good UK supplier just before Christmas, with low minimum order quantities provided in unlabelled jars that we can brand ourselves. They tasted good too and contained all the ingredients we were looking for – primarily Biotin, but also Zinc and a range of other Vitamins.

For the Shampoo, we found a Chinese supplier on Alibaba. Dealing with suppliers on Alibaba is interesting… Their factory sales reps communicate largely over Whatsapp text and video calls, they’re very informal (flirting and sending love heart emojis seem to be a standard negotiation tactic) and whilst their English is generally good, the language barrier is sometimes an issue in getting clarity on specific things. Importing from China also opens up a raft of new considerations – luckily no import duty applies importing shampoo from China, but we still needed to register an account on the government’s import tracking system and get a freight forwarder in place to pick up our goods from the port and deliver them to the UK. Not a big deal, but the sort of faff you don’t need to worry about if buying from the UK.

For the Teeth Whitening Kits, we came across a supplier on Alibaba that fit the bill very quickly. Great supplier ratings from customers. Well established. Highly responsive to enquiries. Low minimum order quantities. High quality ingredients equivalent to the market leader in the space. Customised packaging using our own branding. Perfect. Here’s a pic of how the kits look:

Draft Photoshoot and visual style for the brand

In early December, we drafted in a few of our (better looking) friends to help us with a practice photoshoot to help us figure out the vibe and type of pictures we wanted to use for the website proper. The day was a good laugh and we got some good pictures that represent the vibe of the brand we want. Thanks to Geo, Julian and Philip, as well as Alberto for letting us use his incredible flat as a location. Here’s a few pics from the day:

  We’re arranging a follow up shoot for late Jan with a professional photographer to nail down the actual pictures we’ll be using on the website.

The Website

Our web agency have been cracking on with the website design and build over the last few weeks, and are on track to have it finalised by the end of January. Because we’re selling prescription medication, there’s a few things that have made the project a bit more complicated than a standard ecommerce build.

Firstly, men who want to purchase our prescription treatment need to be able to complete an online consultation questionnaire through the website, providing information around their medical history and type of hair loss that would help a clinician decide if they’re willing to prescribe or not. We need a really slick customer journey, so that when someone visits the site, they can easily learn about the causes of their health/wellness issue, discover the treatments available to them, complete a quick online consultation questionnaire, make a purchase, and then have their treatment delivered to them in a couple of days. We’ve worked with our web agency on a solution that integrates different plug-ins to deliver the functionality we need without the major costs of a bespoke build (we found out one of our main competitors spent over a quarter of a million to build their website….. suffice to say ours was no way near that!).

Another complication is that if you want to sell things online, you need a payment processor relationship to handle payments. If you’re selling normal everyday products, there’s generally no issue getting a payment processing relationship in place. However, for ‘non-standard goods’, (such as prescription medication) these companies can be veryyyyyy risk averse and have separate rules and checks for working with businesses – particularly start-ups – who are selling these things. So that’s another complication we’re currently working through, but we expect it’ll be sorted in the next couple of weeks.

Finally, the biggest roadblock for the website from a delivery perspective is the UK Government regulations on selling medications online. We’re working with the regulator, the MHRA, who need to review our website – checking the content, website flow, T&C’s, etc, to make sure we’re positioning and selling our products appropriately – before they can grant us approval to sell our Hair and ED products on the site. The downside is this process can take as long as 90 days (!), and we can only apply when the website is at a near-finished stage that the MHRA can review. The website’s going to be in a good enough condition to make the submission this week, and our pharmacy partner has assured us the process is much quicker in his experience, but nonetheless, it’s a risk, as ideally we want to launch in mid-February. If the worst comes to the worst and the MHRA process drags, we may need to consider launching the site with the Teeth products first and then launching with the prescription medication a bit later, but we really don’t want to do that, so fingers crossed.

Product Packaging

Our main focus this week has been nailing down slick packaging for all of our products. So scouring the web for different suppliers of cardboard packaging; plastic bottles; ziplock bags; pill jars; etc. We’re trying to find bottles and outer packaging that looks great, is cost-effective, and is consistent with the other packaging within each pack (e.g. for our hair products, we need to ensure a consistent colour and visual scheme across all the bottles and packaging). We’re also trying to make sure all our packs can fit through the letterbox, as that will put us on a cheaper delivery tariff and help us deliver the best customer experience. We made a bit of a breakthrough today – design concepts should be sorted by late Jan.

The Marketing Plan

So, now the fun bit. We’ve got a holding site ready on manbehindthemirror.co.uk and we’ve set up social channels on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TikTok and Twitter, but as yet, we haven’t done any promotion for them. Basically, we’ve wanted to make sure we’ve got a solid backlog, schedule and pipeline of social media posts to ensure momentum when we do go into promotion mode before we start spreading the word but by the end of this week we should be in action mode.

Over December, we worked with the University of Leeds who were great at helping us recruit three interns to help us build our marketing content out. We’ve hired Daniela and Venetia, two very talented Media & Comms students, who have experience across graphic design, photography and video publishing/editing, as well as Matt, a PHD student in Graphic Design.

After studying what our comps have done well and not so well across diff platforms, we’ve got a good feel for how we want to do things, and we’ve spent the last couple of weeks building up a database of online content ideas, and we’re working together this week to flesh these out into posts we can start publishing – whether they be photos, videos, interviews, blog posts and more. We’ll explain more in future vlogs about the marketing plans as over the next couple of weeks it’ll increasingly become the main thing that we’ll be working on, so watch this space.

So, that’s what we’ve been up to. We’ve still got a few roadblocks in our way that are stopping us from launching imminently, but we’re hopeful that, provided the MHRA application goes smoothly, we’ll be able to launch in mid-February. You’ll see a lot more activity from the Man Behind The Mirror social accounts well before then anyway.

[dawnasiler]

Editor’s Picks: 25 of the Best Grooming Gifts for Men (That He’ll Secretly Love)

Gifting beauty products to the men in your life is a win-win situation.

THEY get to use stuff that's way more fancy than their usual drugstore buys. And YOU get to enjoy the benefits of a well-groomed (softer/smoother/better-smelling) guy!

Below, find this year's most giftable grooming products for all the men on your list.

The Best Grooming Gifts for Men

Memo Paris Irish Leather Eau de Parfum

Memo Paris Irish Leather Eau de Parfum

Memo Paris Irish Leather Eau de Parfum is my top men's fragrance pick—a masculine blend of woody, green and leather notes. It's a splurge, but all the scents from this line are incredibly unique, subtle and classy (not to mention beautifully packaged!).

Harry’s Winston Shaving Set

Harry's Winston Shaving Set

Harry's Winston Shaving Set is from a start-up brand that's being called "the Warby Parker of shaving." As such, this five-piece kit—consisting of shave cream, a razor handle, a razor stand, three blades, and a travel cover—is very affordably priced.

Malin+Goetz Saving Face

Malin+Goetz Saving Face

Malin+Goetz Saving Face is a trio of full-sized facial skincare products. There's a sulfate-free foaming gel cleanser, a hydrating and detoxifying mask, and a moisturizer for all skin types.

Foreo Luna 2 for Men

Foreo Luna 2 for Men

Foreo Luna 2 for Men is the men's version of my all-time favourite cleansing brush (which I use virtually every day!). The difference is in the bristles, which are designed to deep-cleanse their thicker skin. It also helps them get a closer shave, prevents razor burn and makes razors last longer!

Jack Black The Balm Squad

Jack Black The Balm Squad

Jack Black The Balm Squad is a set of three lip balms (perhaps the brand's most beloved product). The flavours include Mint, Pear and Cherry, and all of them hydrate with cocoa butter, lanolin, beeswax and shea butter. They also give SPF 25 protection.

Merkur Classic 2-Piece Double Edge Safety Razor

Merkur Classic 2-Piece Double Edge Safety Razor

Merkur Classic 2-Piece Double Edge Safety Razor is recommended by barbers as the best way to get a close shave while minimizing irritation and ingrown hair. This sturdy, German-made razor uses a single blade, and has a short handle for easy maneuvering.

Anthony Starter Kit

Anthony Starter Kit

Anthony Starter Kit gives him a head-to-toe routine in five products. Included is a hair and body wash; a glycolic acid facial cleanser; a face scrub; shaving cream; and a lightweight moisturizer.

Barbour Tartan Dopp Kit

Barbour Tartan Dopp Kit

Barbour Tartan Dopp Kit is from the century-old British brand famous for its outdoor menswear. The same rustic spirit is in this plaid wool toiletries bag, perfect for toting around his essentials.

Abbott NYC Exploration Set

Abbott NYC Exploration Set

Abbott NYC Exploration Set is a collection of eight unisex scents made with clean ingredients. All are inspired by different nature destinations, from Cape Cod to the Mojave desert.

Aesop Quench Classic Skin Care Kit

Aesop Quench Classic Skin Care Kit

Aesop Quench Classic Skin Care Kit is a nourishing regimen for men with dry skin. It contains a creamy cleanser, an alcohol-free toner, and a rich cream (and you'll probably want to borrow these products for yourself!).

Mason Pearson Popular Mixture Military Hair Brush

Mason Pearson Popular Mixture Military Hair Brush

Mason Pearson Popular Mixture Military Hair Brush is a brush he'll have forever. Made from the highest quality boar and nylon bristles, it is non-damaging to the hair and scalp, and helps to stimulate hair follicles while distributing natural oils.

The Art of Shaving Full Size Kit

The Art of Shaving Full Size Kit

The Art of Shaving Full Size Kit will upgrade any shaving routine. You get four full-sized products: a pre-shave oil, a shaving cream, a shaving brush and an after-shave balm. It comes in Sandalwood as well as Unscented.

Jaxon Lane Bro Mask

Jaxon Lane Bro Mask

Jaxon Lane Bro Mask is a set of four hydrogel sheet masks designed especially for men. That means they have a higher concentration of active ingredients (like niacinamide), since men have thicker, oilier and more acne-prone skin. They're also bigger in size, and come in two pieces to accommodate beards.

Murdock London Bailey Beard Care Set

Murdock London Bailey Beard Care Set

Murdock London Bailey Beard Care Set takes beard care to the next level. This four-piece kit features a special sulfate-free beard shampoo; a beard moisturizer (to soften both the hair and the skin underneath); a beard oil (to keep it smooth and shiny); and a beard brush. 

Beautycounter Counterman Carry-On

Beautycounter Counterman Carry-On

Beautycounter Counterman Carry-On is a set of four travel-ready products for the face, hair and body. It includes a shampoo, body wash, exfoliating cleanser and oil-free moisturizer, all made with non-toxic ingredients.

Baby Foot for Men

Baby Foot for Men

Baby Foot for Men is an intensive chemical peel for his feet. You're no doubt familiar with the original version (which I reviewed here). This one produces the same dramatic results on dead skin and calluses, but comes with larger booties that fit up to a men's size 14.

PMD Personal Microderm Man

PMD Personal Microderm Man

PMD Personal Microderm Man lets him get results similar to professional microdermabrasion treatments, from the comfort of home. Used weekly, it removes dead skin cells to improve skin texture, acne and fine lines and wrinkles.

Dr. Barbara Sturm Face Cream Men

Dr. Barbara Sturm Face Cream Men

Dr. Barbara Sturm Face Cream Men is a luxurious face cream just for him (in case he's been stealing yours!). It's packed with hydrating and calming ingredients, including macadamia oil, squalane and vitamin E. He can even use it in place of eye cream.

Czech & Speake Air Safe Leather-Bound Travel Manicure Set

Czech & Speake Air Safe Leather-Bound Travel Manicure Set

Czech & Speake Air Safe Leather-Bound Travel Manicure Set is the ultimate set of manicure tools for his nails. It's an investment, yes, but you're getting four hand-made German instruments coated in Teflon for longevity: scissors, clippers, tweezers and a file. They're all housed in an elegant leather case.

Kiehl’s Men’s Groom-On-The-Go Set

Kiehl's Men's Groom-On-The-Go Set

Kiehl's Men's Groom-On-The-Go Set gives him a five-product face and body routine from one of the most sought-after apothecary brands. Included is a cleanser, shaving cream, moisturizer, body soap and hand cream.

Pinch Provisions Hemergency Kit

Pinch Provisions Hemergency Kit

Pinch Provisions Hemergency Kit has everything he needs for unexpected grooming emergencies. Perfect for stashing in the car or office, it contains 22 items ranging from cufflinks to dental floss to shaving cream.

Ava Isa Pure Untinted Ultra Matte SPF 45 Sunscreen

Ava Isa Pure Untinted Ultra Matte SPF 45 Sunscreen

Ava Isa Pure Untinted Ultra Matte SPF 45 Sunscreen is a must-have for anyone concerned about skin aging. Unlike most SPFs on the market, it offers the highest level of protection from UVA, as I explained in this tutorial. Plus, it's super lightweight and is transparent on all but the darkest skin tones. 

Andis ProFoil Lithium Plus Titanium Foil Shaver

Andis ProFoil Lithium Plus Titanium Foil Shaver

Andis ProFoil Lithium Plus Titanium Foil Shaver is the fastest, easiest way to get a close shave. As a foil razor, it's able to get much closer than other electric razors, and can be used either wet or dry. 

The Inkey List The Pore Wonders Set

The Inkey List The Pore Wonders Set

The Inkey List The Pore Wonders Set banishes blemishes and blackheads with four targeted products. There's a BHA treatment for cleaning pores, a niacinamide serum for reducing oil production; a squalane oil for hydration; and a retinol for long-term skin smoothing.

Red Light Man Infrared Light Device

Red Light Man Infrared Light Device

Red Light Man Infrared Light Device emits a powerful beam of infrared light, a safe and highly penetrative type of red light with multiple benefits. It can be used all over the body to treat everything from post-workout soreness to hair loss to signs of skin aging. Read more about red light therapy in my tutorial here!

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Editor’s Picks: 25 of the Best Grooming Gifts for Men (That He’ll Secretly Love) syndicated from The Skincare Edit

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Top 3 Men’s Grooming Essentials Must-Have For Your Kit

Men need to groom themselves to look impressive. It is the looks that first catch anybody’s attention. Therefore, they need certain grooming products to stand apart in the crowd. When they are out for work or to conduct business meetings, they need taking care of their hair, their clothes and even their body smell. Even mouth freshener is an underrated product but can be of great help in grooming the men in and out. Grooming does boost the effect of the education and values and therefore, apart from good mental capabilities, it is essential to pay attention to the styling needs.

Listed here are the three men’s grooming products that can help in everyday styling and in creating charisma every single instance you step out.

a.      Hair gel: Gone are the days when men used hair oils for keeping their hair in place. Though there is no other substitute for this lubricating product and helps keeping the man well-nourished, still it lacks behind in the ability to style the hair. So, when you need the best solution for accentuating the hair style and keep it as such for longer hours, you need the best hair gel for men.

While selecting the hair gel, it is important to keep certain things in mind, such as:

·         It should not harm the hair: You may be enticed into buying the strongest hair gel, but ensure that it goes easy with the scalp and hair quality. The gel should not cause brittleness or loss of hair or any other hair related complication.

·         Suitable for all hair types: Some hair gels may be made only for light and brittle hair, a few others can be the best hair gel for long thick hair. So, get your hair evaluated first from an expert and then choose the hair gel. There can be some of the hair gels that are suitable for all hair types. Unless there are some specific requirements, choose the one that goes with all hair types.

b.      Deodorant: Food that we eat plays a strong role in the development of body odor. Mostly, men perspire a lot. They need good undergarments to avoid the rashes caused by sweating. Also, they need to smell good. That is why; there should be the best deodorant for men in your grooming kit. Selecting the deodorant for men includes taking care of following pointers:

·         Should be long-lasting: Deodorant with the strong base note are considered good for the men. Since men spend most of the times outdoors, this accessory certainly helps.

·         Should be attractive in smell: One of the interesting things that remain in the minds of the people that men come across during the day is their smell. So, make your smell your plus point by choosing the best body spray for men. Learn how to apply these sprays so that their best effect is achieved.

c.       Shaving essentials: The facial hair when maintained in proper shape and groomed regularly can be an impressive part of anybody’s personality. So, when you have chosen the best smelling deodorant for men, take a look at your stubble part too.

Clothes, accessories, shoes, etc. do make essential part of men’s wardrobe. Any wardrobe, however, is incomplete without the grooming products. Men’s grooming can enhance the effect of the clothes and accessories worn. Thus, grooming essentials are required to stay presentable during the formal occasions like business meetings and on any normal day at work. Grooming is a wholesome process and involves taking care of the body head-to-toe. Include the essentials mentioned above and take time off the daily routine to apply these too.