#fire protection coatings market

[industrydatamarket]

Cellulosic Fire Protection Intumescent Coatings Market Statistics and Comprehensive Insights Outlook 2022-2028

The Cellulosic Fire Protection Intumescent Coatings Market Report 2022 report provides the latest industry data and future industry trends. The report lists leading competitors and manufacturers in the Cellulosic Fire Protection Intumescent Coatings industry and provides strategic industry insights and analysis of factors influencing the competitiveness of the market. The geographical scope of the Cellulosic Fire Protection Intumescent Coatings market is studied. The forecast market information, SWOT analysis, market scenario, and feasibility study are the vital aspects analyzed in this report. Looking forward, Industry Data Analytics Group expects the market to grow at a CAGR of 3.9% during 2022-2028.

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[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Clan- A New Shelby Member

While the men were away at war, YNs father died from a gunshot wound, but not only that her mother passed away from heartbreak. This caused YN to end up in care at the age of 14. Thankfully though that didn't last long though. Polly Gray decided to adopt the sweet, shy, quiet girl.

For the next next year, YN struggles to get close to Ada because of how loud she is, however Finn and YN get on well making YN feel comfortable. That all changes when Arthur, Tommy and John come home. YN finds it hard to fit into the loud rambunctious family. Now YN is 15 years old, she's still shy and quiet, nothing like her new family.

YN sits in the kitchen reading a book while the family tuck into their breakfast

"YN put that book down at the table" Polly scolds placing some food in front of her

"Sorry Polly" the shy girl says placing her book down making Finn laugh

"After breakfast I'd like you to head down to the market get us some more bread and milk"

"I'll send Isaiah with her" Tommy says. Out of all the Shelby's Tommy is the most protective of YN. They all are, but Tommy is the one who most protective

"She'll be fine Tommy"

"I'll still send Isaiah with her"

"YN eat up" Polly says again knowing there's not point arguing with Tommy because either way Isaiah will be going with YN.

"You cousins are protective of you aren't they" Isaiah says walking down the street with YN

"Adoptive cousins. And yes" YN quietly chuckles

"Got a new girl Isaiah!" a boy shouts towards the pair laughing. YN immediately lowers her head, looking at the floor

"Just ignore them"

"Oh come on. Why don't you share?" YN then feels a hand on her arm making her gasp

"Let her go" Isaiah says sternly

"Come on let's go, she's a Shelby" another guy says

"Yeah only adopted by then. She's just a sad little orphan. Forget it. Have her" Isaiah pulls YN away, instead of going to the market he takes her home knowing that she already has tears pricking her eyes.

Unfortunately for YN this guy doesn't leave her alone. She's subjected to being bullied at school and on the way home from school, but YN refuses to tell anyone what's going on. Polly can tell something is going on with her, she tries to talk to her, but YN pretends she's ok.

On the way home from school YN takes a short cut down by the canal

"Oi YN!" YN lifts her head up to see the same guys who have been bullying her since that day at the market. Her feet move quickly under her feet trying to get home as quick as possible "hang where do you think your going?" hands grab on her arms

"Please let me go"

"Haven't got your boyfriend here to help you now" the boy laughs

"Please don't hurt me" YN pulls away

"I think she needs a cool down don't you?" another boy chuckles

"No no please I can't swim" YN now yells with tears running down her face

"Aww what a shame" and with that YN is pushed into the cut. Slashing about and spluttering she tries to keep her head above water as best she can. Little do the boys know that Finn was playing down by the cut and saw the whole thing. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him and bursts into the betting shop where his brothers all are

"Tom" he breathes out catching everyone's attention "Tom it's YN. She's in the cut, she can't swim" Tommy look at John and Arthur signalling for them to follow him and Finn.

When they arrive they see a tired looking YN struggling to stay afloat while a group of boys are stood laughing. Tommy takes off his hat and wast coat jumping into the water without a thought

"You think this is fucking funny?!" Arthur yells walking over to the boys "your lucky your kids because if you weren't..."

"Arthur!" John yells "let's take you home to your parents" John and Arthur take the boys by their ears as Tommy pulls a shivering YN out of the water

"Let's get you home eh?"

"What the bloody hell happened!" Polly yells seeing YN with wet hair sat by the fire with a blanket around her shoulders

"YN has failed to tell us that she's being bullied at school. Today some of her classmates decided to push her into the cut. Thankfully Finn was there, came to get us"

"Where are your brothers?"

"Taking the idiots home" Polly then sighs

"Ok well let's get you into a warm bath" YN gives her adoptive mum a nod before following her.

Yes she's different from the Shelby's, but this only went to show how much they all see her as part of their family.

[archieimagines]

finally | cassian andor

Summary: Cassian Andor is the bane of your existence. He’s your rival in theft, always getting the good ships before you, always making more money in selling to Bix. Finally, you get there first— but of course he’d come to ruin your day.

warnings: blood, injury, needle and stitches. enemies to lovers un-enemies trope. read this to listen to me pretend to know about spaceships. word count: 3030 requested by: anon author’s note: thank you so much for this brilliant idea, anon! you may be able to tell i got carried away. i had a lot of fun with this. requests for andor are wide open! written by: archie

Finally, this one was yours.

You couldn’t help feeling a little giddy. This star yacht was definitely on the higher end of luxury, and it’d been sat unmanned on the outskirts of town for five days straight. Sure, it’d been purposely tucked away amongst sandy cliffs to hide it, but as per the general moral code, five unattended days on a ship put it on the illegal scavenger’s market. Fair’s fair. You thieves weren’t monsters, after all.

Your expert fingers worked swiftly with a wedge tool on lifting the panels from the front of the space vehicle to get at all those glorious parts inside. With a satisfying click, the central panel popped free.

The sun was just peering over the horizon to light your focus, all that treasure lit up in the golden light.

Your smile lit up too. Finally. A haul that was all yours. For once, it was so worth it to wake up before sunrise. No one to watch out for, not even that stupid, arrogant, condescending-

“What have we got here?”

You stopped in your tracks, fingers itching to get inside the engine.

That voice.

Infuriating.

He painted his words like a casual conversation. Like this was a joint effort. Like you hadn’t specifically woken up this early just to beat him to this goldmine. You’d barely slept last night for the excitement of finally bringing in a collection worth a good wad of cash, and yet he had the gall to pop up beside you and peer over your shoulder.

You reeled on him, fire in your eyes and sharp wedge in your hand. “Andor. Get out of here.”

He had the balls to laugh. He treated this so light, like you hadn’t been so determined to finally outdo him. “And leave you to carry all this back by yourself? I couldn’t possibly.” He had this irritating skill in being rude while being perfectly within his bounds. He simply reached past you without concern for your threat, rapping his knuckles lightly on various parts tucked away. “There’s a lot of good stuff here. Nice condition, too. We can’t take all of it, of course, we don’t want an angry holidaymaker stuck on our planet-”

“You’re taking none of it.”

“-But we can take the extras. Let me see…”

He bent at the waist to lean over the hole of the removed panel, reaching in and feeling around without so much as a blink at you.

That was it!

You jabbed the wedge into his ribs.

His arm retracted so quickly to protect his side, and he finally turned to you with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow as he rubbed his side over his coat. “Agh! What the-!? What was that for?”

“Shut up, I barely touched you.” You couldn’t keep the smugness from your voice as you nudged him aside, away from your engine, and promptly took his place to rummage around inside instead. It’s true, you wanted him to feel that jab even despite his coat. It was kinda hard.

“You want it so bad that you’re gonna stab me?”

“Don’t cry on my engine, you’ll rust it.”

There was no time for this chitchat. You dipped into your belt for a different removal tool, starting work right away. You wouldn’t remove anything integral: those parts weren’t worth much anyways. But the fuel ignition stabiliser… Oh, yes. It was a luxury. Gave the journey the smoothest ride possible. No clattering, no trembling of the ship. It’d be four or five thousand credits, easily.

If only it wasn’t so damn hard to remove.

You were hyper aware of Andor watching your every move, even if you were shoulder deep inside the machine. His stare didn’t make reaching around components easier in the slightest, and your arm was bent at an awkward and supremely uncomfortable angle- but you wouldn’t let him know that. He’d just take over, for sure.

But when the corner of your palm nicked on sharp metal, you couldn’t hide the wince.

“Look, you’re going to injure yourself. Let me. Move over.”

“Not likely.”

“I’ve been doing this longer than you. I can easily-”

“Exactly! So you should give someone else a chance.” You tried not to let your voice strain from the effort of pulling out the stabiliser, especially with the fresh scratch to your palm. This was not easy, and he was really just making you frantic with his presence.

“Whenever I give you a chance, something ends up damaged!” Ah, there it was. That familiar exasperation, delivered with a growl in his accent. This was the Andor you knew best-- the one that hated you right back.

You paused, face turned to glare up at his impatient eyes. “Sir. I don’t damage shit.”

“If that makes you feel better. Come on, just-” His fingers reached into the hatch and closed around your forearm, a gentle squeeze and tug to your limb.

That was it. You saw red.

“Don’t you manhandle me- AH!” You whipped your arm out to shove him back a pace-- But it caught nastily on that jagged piece of metal. It snagged down the side of your palm, causing a deep, pulsing gash. There was no way you could shove him back with that hand.

Your face paled as you dropped your tool and blinked at the thick ooze of red that trickled down the side of your wrist, quickly soaking your sleeve. It stung like nothing you’d handled before, eyes watering, head pounding. You couldn’t help but stare at it, trembling.

But Andor was on it. He wasted no time in ripping along the bottom of his shirt for a makeshift bandage, wasted no time in chastising you. “Dank farrik, you really-! You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“Me!? This was all you!”

“Oh, don’t give me that.” Skilled hands wound the bandage around your cut far too tightly to be comfortable, and you winced. But he paid no mind, quiet in his concentration as he worked. His aura had changed, as if his head was now cut off from communication. He was too focused, brimming with a panic that he kept silent.

Something told you there was no speaking to him now. Even if you tried to reason that you’d had so much worse many times, his tunnel vision was fixed on stenching the bloodflow. He tied the bandage off, clasping your hand firmly in both of his, raised between your faces to make sure it was above your heart. You had to actively try not to yelp from the pain of his care, but something about the urgent responsibility he demonstrated was so sincere.

He really was doing his best for you. You almost felt bad for blaming him.

His eyes were so focused, his lips pressed together in a concentrated line. There was no trace of that demeaning, condescending asshole you were used to. Something about this… Hm. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a terrible-

No, don’t think like that, you chastised yourself, peeling your gaze from his face. You couldn’t let yourself see him like that. He’d made your life hell for years.

Though the pain was dulled with the pressure of his hold, you were far from fine. The blood may have slowed, but it soaked the ends of his own sleeves now, too, and continued to spread.

“Let’s get you back home. You need medical attention.”

“But the stabiliser-”

“No. Home. Let’s go.” He didn’t drop your hand as he took a step away, leading you back towards the centre of the town, but you dug your heels into the sand.

“No, just- Quickly! You do it, we can go half-”

He jerked you close, face leaning to yours. Your eyes grew wide at this proximity- he’d never been this close before. The warm hues of his eyes caught the rising sunlight, lashes casting delicate shadows over his irises.

Despite how your memories always painted him, they were kind eyes. Honest ones. It was his furrowed brows that reminded you how sharp his will was, and the growl of his accent rolled over his words as he hissed.

“Listen to me. There will be more ships, but there will not be more hands. I’m taking you home, and for once you’re not going to argue with me.”

The bleeding had finally stopped by the time he’d taken you to his home. Certainly, you’d have preferred some professional medical care, but this would have to do. Besides, it’s not like what you were doing to get this gash was particularly legal.

He settled you onto the couch before bustling around you, picking up supplies and towels and wipes as he went, soon appearing beside you with a tray of items to help, including a bowl of fresh water and…

“A needle? There’s no chance. You’re not stitching me up, Andor.”

“I am. Bee, come over here.”

A squat little red box rattled to life from the other side of the room and rolled up to Andor’s feet on treads, clattering the whole way. “C-C-Cassian! That was much q-quicker than usual.”

“I didn’t get the parts. There was an accident.” Andor placed the tray atop the droid’s flat head and the circle lens turned to you instead, honing in on the blood.

“Oh n-n-no, there has been bodily damage to your friend. I can aid.” The droid either ignored your grumble of something about ‘not friends’ or just didn’t receive it. It let a hatch fall open, revealing a collection of packaged gauzes. You marvelled at his endearingly happy disposition, despite the broken antiquity of his model, obvious wiring problems, and living with this man. You already knew you liked him more than Andor.

“Thanks, Bee,” the man said, surprisingly gentle hands taking your arm. He was clean now, coat removed and hands sanitised to peel open the soaked fabric wrapped around your wound. It stuck to your arm hairs from how it’d begun to dry and you winced as it tugged from your skin, but this didn’t knock his concentration.

He eyed the open injury for a moment in silence. The soft sounds of the city waking up outside was muffled against the windows, the bell sounding for the residents to begin their day. And yet, you’d already had too much of this man for the whole week.

But, he was doing you a favour. So, you pressed your lips into a line and arched a brow as he investigated your wound like it was life or death, even though you honestly found the aching sting pretty manageable. You tried to keep your patience in line, you really did. But it was almost like he was specifically taking as long as he could. “You gonna do something about it or not, Andor?”

The sharpness of your tone didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Cassian,” he said.

“What?”

“Just call me Cassian. It’s not like you don’t know me.” He was so matter-of-fact as he spoke, turning away to dunk a clean cloth into the bowl of warm water, and you had to briefly wonder if he had no idea that you hated him.

Pft, of course he knew. But he really chose not to entertain it. He belittled it, even. Somehow, that made you hate him even more.

“I don’t know you.”

He let a trickle of water drip from the rag, holding it over the wound along your palm to loosen up the dried blood; the sting earned a hiss from you, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. “We’ve been bumping into each other since we were teenagers. I know where you live and you’re in my house right now. My mother knows your name. You know me.”

Okay, that was true. You searched for a way to dispute him, but you had nothing. Andor really knew how to- Cassian. Cassian really knew how to talk people into a corner. Infuriating.

“Fine.”

“You should say it.”

“Say what?”

“My name.”

You blinked at him, but he didn’t look at you. He was ridiculous. Methodical as ever, he dipped the cloth back into the water before closing it properly around the side of your palm with a wet squeeze.

A sharp stab of pain.

“Ow, Cassian! Gentle!”

His gaze finally raised to yours, and there was a cheeky light to them that matched the slightest upward quirk of his lips. He’d done that on purpose. “Quiet. Maarva’s sleeping.”

“You’re an ass.”

“So you always tell me.”

You let that one slide, quietly amused.

Somehow, it felt like a bubble had burst as he continued cleaning your wound. He was gentle with you, focused but not nearly so intense, and an easy silence lapsed between the two of you. The negative energy had given out into something else-- Somehow, you couldn’t find it in you to be at his throat like before. You must’ve upgraded to handling Cassian instead of Andor, you mused.

His eyes flashed up to yours, seeking any pain. You held his gaze for the shortest moment before turning it back to your wound, somehow embarrassed to look into the uncharacteristic tenderness of those windows. Satisfied that he wasn’t hurting you, he continued with delicate dabs.

Perhaps you’d made up Andor, this arrogant, cold asshole who’d been your rival for eons; Now, you were seeing past it. Seeing the human he actually was. Perhaps not flaunting of his kind nature, perhaps a little guarded, but peaceful. Cheeky, but by no means cruel.

You watched his hands work expertly with yours. One held your hand, thumb linked with yours, the other so careful with the cut running towards your pinky finger. They were a worker’s hands, a little calloused and rough in handling, but you could easily see how gentle he was trying to be. Taking it slow and steady, careful not to hurt.

“Okay, it’s clean. Can I stitch it?” Those eyes on yours again. Deep but cautious. He reached for the needle, medical thread already attached, and showed it to you.

You swallowed and peered down to the gash. Ah, it really was a deep one, it’d scar for sure. It needed all the help it could get. “You know what you’re doing?”

He nodded, the ghost of a laugh to his voice as he recalled his tens of incidents. “I have done this many times.”

“... Be careful.”

He got to work instantly, taking your hand in his and turning the cut upwards, holding it firm to keep it still. He glanced at the tip of the needle, brought it to your flesh and--

You couldn’t watch. You focused instead on his crown of messy hair. Warm brown, some strands lifted to look golden in the shine of the morning light. You could so easily reach out and touch it, see if it was as soft as it loo-

The prick of pain from the needle. You winced, but tried hard to be still for him, desperately focusing your attention on how those gorgeous locks might fall through your fingers if you touched them, how they’d differ to the coarser hair of his beard in your touch.

You gave a sigh. It was happening. You couldn’t push it away anymore.

People had told you for years that you clearly had a crush on this man, and you were adamant that you did not. He’d been the bane of your existence. He was the worst part of salvaging and stealing components. If you bumped into him, it’d ruin your whole day and you wouldn’t be able to shake him from your thoughts for hours. His annoying tone of voice, the haughty way he’d offer to help you.

But that wasn’t the truth. You’d always painted it so negatively, always convinced yourself that’s what it was. Hate. But honestly, you just never wanted to give into what you hated to admit.

And now, here, on his couch with a B2 unit watching, he’d shattered your narrative to pieces.

You felt things for him, and not in the way you wanted.

“And… Done.” He reached aside for scissors to cut the thread, dabbed a clean, dry cloth to any specs of blood that tried to seep out, and scrutinised his work. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You did well.”

His eyes fixed on you again, relieved and expectant. He was so genuine. How hadn’t you seen it before?

You cleared your throat and diverted your eyes to your hand, inspecting his repairs. It really did look good. The gash was pulled closed and the stitches were evenly spaced and clean; a professional couldn’t have done it much better.

“Hm. Not quite as terrible as I’d expect.” Your words were softer than your usual insults. You couldn’t find it in you right now to be sharp.

But even so, he gave a low chuckle. “You’re welcome. Let me cover it.” He took a packaged gauze from the droid’s hatch and tore it open with his teeth-- A shock to your tummy told you that you found it attractive. It was lucky he was engrossed with attaching it to your wound, or he would’ve caught the way your ears flushed pink.

Quick moments passed, and he sat up straight with his lips caught in a kind smile. “Good as new.”

Your hand still rested in his. You were hyper aware of the warmth of it, the feeling of his skin, and it took everything in you not to disturb the moment with the indulgent caress you craved, in case he let go.

This was too hard. You hadn’t banked on facing something like this when you woke up this morning. You shared a reluctant smile.

His demeanour changed instantly. His eyes flickered between your palm and your face, words urgent with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, Cassian. Do you think the yacht is still there?”

“It might be.”

You sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was finally time to let go of your grudge and see him for who he was.

You shone a daring smile, a buzz in your veins at the prospect of calling an end to your rivalry.

“... Wanna go half with me?”

[sexylazymess]

Dark!Elsa x fem Reader

Chapter 2

The wind blew relentlessly, making you clutch the cloak around your body even tighter in fear of it flying off and leaving you with nothing to protect yourself from the ongoing blizzard. The white coat of snow has already reached your knees, and in few hours, people might start getting burried alive. This is what became of Arendelle. A once thriving kingdom, with blossoming flowers and lush trees an entire year became an ugly land of mud and bare trees. Quite litrally a graveyard for the living. Once you were finally home, you pushed the door open to be met with welcoming warmth. 

"Auntie is here!" A (your hair colour) haired little girl shouted joyfully, earning her twin brother's attention who came running to hug you "Autie, you're back!" you smiled in return and ruffled his fluffy hair "Of course Jude, I told you I'd be back soon." It was like this everytime you left the house. The kids would wait for your return instead of going to bed and jump in delight as soon as you were home. It was heartwrenching, how at such young age they were aware of the callous weather behind many deaths, including their mother's. "and look what I got here with me." you pulled out two apples from the groceries bag for the twins, receiving simultaneous 'Apples!' and 'Thank you!'s.

"I love apples." came Flora's soft, tiny voice. 

"I'm glad you do, Flora" you went to put away the rest of the groceries. Luckily, you could get your hands on some fresh fruits and meat, otherwise the market in Arandelle was in a miserable state, the food production nearly non-existent. But how could one raise animals and plants in such climate. It was a risk not worth taking for farmers. You almost wanted to tear up when the shopkeeper told you that they don't have the medical herbs you requested since you ran out of them, so you bought meagre ones instead. "Grandpa was coughing a lot. like 13 times." your niece stood by your side, while you lit up a fire under a pot of water to brew a herbal drink "is that so?"

"Yes, I got worried. it means he's not getting better" your eyes met her own big ones, while Jude was highly optimistic, Flora was a realist. She doesn't accept something unless she sees it, but she looks up to you. She takes your words to heart. "Coughing means his body is fighting." you gave her a tiny, reassuring smile "and that's a good thing. every medication I give him will help him be stronger, but do you know what's the most important and efficient remedy?"

The girl scratched her head thoughtfully "uhm, sleeping well? I heard you talk about it last night."

"Well, that too, of course. there's also the state of the heart, our feelings affect our health. The happier one is, the higher the chances of recovery." Her eyes lit up in awe and wonder, and hope. "So...if we make him laugh, we're actually healing him? Like you do?" 

"Of course sweetie, you two have an important part as well." Once the drink was ready, you poured some in a mug and went to your father's room, the old man was laid in bed, looking sickly pale and tired. He saw what you were holding and groaned "Oh no, no more of that awful thing." 

"I added some honey this time. It should be bearable." You patiently said. In your many years of practicing medicine, you've encountered a good number of difficult, stubborn patients. Honesty, you cracked sometimes in the beginning, crying behind a big bush or in a brooms' closet, but you eventually learned to get your way and keep a clear conscious. "Come on, I didn't go all the way out there for nothing." 

"...Fine. but I'll drink it on my own pace!" you chuckled, partly satisfied with his response "As long as you do drink it, old man." you placed his mug on the bedside table and turned to leave when his voice spoke again "and (y/n), thank you... I saw the new clothes you got for the kiddos. they needed them for a while now...I couldn't-" 

"It's good." You couldn't let him loath himself further for not being able to provide for them as a parent should. As illness striked him, your father worked extra hard and past his limits, so much that when he got bedridden, he couldn't walk "It really is. Their happiness means the world to me." 

You knew he still blamed himself for that cursed day. The day your late sister offered to go get groceries instead of him. As soon as you received his letter, you gathered your belongings -eyes puffy from crying and lack of sleep- and took the earliest ship back to Arendelle. 

A rough knock on the door grabbed your attention, glancing one last time at the man "I'll go get it." the twins were peaking from behind the curtains of the kitchen's window and let out audible gasps "Oh my god, they carry swords, so cool!"

The visitors were no other than the royal guard, four men in significant greenish robes which had the kingdom's symbol the Crocus, and long columnar shaped hats. Swords safely and readily strapped to their hips. "We came to speak with Doctor Isaac Karlsen." the one at the front said. 

"Yes?" you said.

And he arched an eyebrow at you, sarcastically "You're Isaac Karlsen?"  

"I'm his daughter. Tell me what you want to say and I'll deliver it to him." you politely smiled, at such times, the royal guard was no good news. 

"Right." The guard faked a smile "Don't waste our time and bring him here. It doesn't concern you."

"It does, in fact. He's sleeping." 

"Oh I'm pretty sure He will want to wake up once he finds out it's an order from her majesty, queen Elsa." 

You internally cringed. Similar to your father, you disliked Queen Elsa. It's why he bought a house at the border of the capital after retirement, where life was peaceful and simple. He couldn't depart from Arendelle but preferred to be as far as possible from the icey palace and its surroundings. Serving poor people without charge until he fell sick. 

"What is the order and why involve my father?" 

You seemed to be getting on his nerves "It doesn't concern you." He firmly repeated, moving to walk past you but you blocked his way. His hand instantly flew to grip the hilt of his sword threateningly, and out of nowhere, the kids appeared behind you, eyes gleaming with excitement and admiration. "Hello guard sir good sir!" Jude blurted out. "you guys are awesome. I want to be like you one day!" Flora joined in "slashing enemies with your swords and protecting us!" 

"kids, go back inside. now." out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the guard hesitating at the sight of children and his hold on the weapon dropped with a sigh "An ill person in the palace is in need of a doctor, urgently." He plainly explained to which you nodded. 

"Very well, I'm doctor (Y/N) Karlsen. I've been working for a while. I'll be there first thing in the morning." you extended your hand for a shake and received none in return, just a bewildered and sceptical glare from the man. Another, friendlier looking guard stepped in to whisper something in his ear that he didn't like from his reaction, he replied with "Are you serious?" and slowly faced you again, both hands on his hips "Very well. pack as much clothes as you need, we will be waiting." 

He grinned at your dumbfounded expression "No occasional visits. the doctor is required to live in the palace and be by the patient's side 24/7. That includes not leaving the palace boundaries for uh weeks, perhaps months." 

"I can't." you shook your head "Impossible. I have kids to take care of and my father is old and bedridden. They have nobody else. I can't leave them for months at once!" 

"Auntie is leaving already?" A crestfallen Jude tugged at your dress and Flora tried to comfort him despite her own sadness. 

"We can't keep her majesty waiting." The guard spoke. "sir Erik, we have to tell her highness-" The other man went quiet when their lead guard, who's apparently called Erik, raised his hand "It seems you have to make a decision and quickly, miss (Y/N). We'll give you one day to think about it. but I suggest to start packing your things." With that, they left and you closed the door, still shaken from the encounter. 

"Aw you both..." you bent down to hug them "A hurricane won't separate me from you. So don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." 

"But the queen. she's powerful isn't she?" Flora whispered. It was true, in her few years of ruling, the young dictator has done terrible things to her enemies and opposers that made even the most fearless of men tremble and give in to her. She was a cruel and merciless tactician with a stone, cold heart. 

"And your auntie is smart and capable of handling herself." The girl was embarrassed that she doubted you for a second and nodded "She is." 

"Uhm, by the way auntie." Jude timidly interrupted your moment "Please don't get mad but..." 

"hm, what's wrong Jude?" 

"the tea you made was awfully bitter, it had veeery little honey." he put his index finger and thumb closely together "the more sweet, the better!" Flora snickered at him "It's called 'sweeter' Jude, not 'more sweet'". 

"Okay but where did you get that tea from? I didn't make any tea." you asked.

"Grandpa gave it to me." 

you were unimpressed, and highly disappointed with your father for giving his herbal medicine to the little boy so he wouldn't have to drink it. And for a moment there, you thought maybe you should've let those guards take him. 

[diabolikpersonals]

OKAY SO WHAT IF

Let’s say Reiji didn’t set Edgar’s village on fire, and Edgar goes on to live as an adult. But-with Ririe’s continuous neglect to his studies eventually his mother sends a servant to keep an eye on him and she does find out about the great vampire prince being friends with a human. So she-let’s say emotionally manipulates him, tells him all the things about being a human, how fragile they are and how easily they can die, even by an accident a vampire can kill a human. So Ririe just decides to completely leave by other words abandoned Edgar. In fear of accidentally hurting his feelings when he finds out he’s a vampire or just physically hurting him. Years go by and he’s now the King of the Vampire Clan. As a break or a important meeting he goes in the human world and ta-da, guess who saw his lost child hood best friend as a grown and might I say quite the handsome man. Edgar, now grown with braided hair coming to his ankles, carting a shotgun on his shoulder, and a black fur coat since it’s the winter, is in the middle of a market picking some utensils with his lovely mother now in old age.

How do you think Ririe—or Shu, would react? Would Edgar remember him still? Because that friendship was in his childhood, let’s say he’s now in his early or late thirties

(Reiji didn’t set Edgar’s village on fire and he grew as an adult Anon) so remember how I said Edgar carries a shot gun? Well, let’s push that scenario a little further, that gun could simply just be for protection from gang and shit OR he grew up to a Vampire hunter and he’s not just another ordinary hunter that can be killed, this guy knows what he’s doing. His name is quite the famous one in the vampire Clan

edgar growing up to be a vampire hunter, oh my gosh!!! his village was rumored to have a vampire problem, so I think it's totally possible. another interesting thing about it is that this probably means edgar is working for the church, and we know he's got real complicated feelings about religion that affected his relationship with his parents too. and his mother lived till old age!! so even if he's conflicted, he's keeping his village safe. I bet this edgar has lots of stories.

vampire king shu meeting up with an edgar that was never killed!! and because he's a hunter now, the gap between them has grown even wider. I think shu is impossible to forget; he was such a strange kid that I bet edgar, upon growing up, even started to suspect he was a vampire. so how will their reunion go? I really want to see it!!! personally, because edgar has said so many times that he's sure shu is a good person, I really don't think he wants to turn his gun toward shu even if he figures out the truth. but of course, in this au, that'll have to happen, won't it?? >:D

do you write fic, anon? I'd kill to read something like this!

[stagbells]

Green Christmas

From: @porkcracker

To: @certifedhoodrat

Note: "Greetings and happy holidays, I hope you enjoy this little story and find joy in it. I wish a bright and happy fest in this rather turmoil full times."

Written work under readmore

Green Christmas 

The change had been felt before it had become visible, and the citizens of Hallownest had been understandably wary at first, expecting some kind of negative event to happen. This had not occurred, however. First, the temperature had dropped rapidly over just a few days, resulting in a quick uptake of bugs staying in their houses. When it reached a temperature that did not drop any further over the next few days, more and more bugs braved the steps back outside their houses and, upon noticing no danger, quickly turned towards the new problem. It was far too cold to stay outside for a prolonged time; a solution came in the form of a scarf or coat. As one after the other, every survivor equipped themself with a coat or scarf, or the especially sensitive with both, the traffic inside Dirtmouth picked up again. 

It was then that the second change happened. It was over night, and in the morning, there was quite a shocked uproar. Where everybug had gone to sleep with the usual greys of Dirtmouth surrounding them, as they woke, the world was glazed in a powdery white. A general wariness kept the citizens from stepping outside their houses; the white reaching up to the door step and layered on roofs regarded warily. There was only one place that looked like this usually, and that was Kingdom’s Edge. And even then, the Kingdom’s Edge might have looked similar, but the first bug to step outside and interact with the white powder was quick to notice that the white of the Kingdom’s Edge and the white dusting everything were not similar at all. Whereas the white of Kingdom's Edge held the temperature as the cold stone simply layered over each other and could be picked up with one's bare hand easily, the powdery white found in Dirtmouth was freezing to the touch, stuck to itself, and if held too long, melted into water. Once it was discovered to be safe, life slowly returned to Dirtmouth, and hand coverings were added to the new outfits of scarves and coats as well. 

The Vessels, all already equipped with coats, were quickly wrapped in thicker, fluffier coats against all protests by their half sister. Hornet, remembering an instance far back, long before the Kingdom had been sealed, where it hadn’t gotten similarly cold in Deepnest, was also quite aware of the wave of sickness, common colds, had rolled through the Weaver’s and was quick to avoid her siblings having the same fate. Already she could imagine the way the Vessels would not delight in confined bed rest and medicine. Ignoring that, the red-cloaked loner was not quite sure how she would even give her siblings the medicine should they get sick. So Hornet made sure that all her siblings were packed in warm cloaks, scarves, and gloves and warmed themselves up on fire when they returned inside, something the Grimchild delighted in as well. The little wyrm was not in need of any warming clothes himself; the fire burning inside him warm enough to melt the white, called snow, around it without any effort to do so. 

It came as it had come. In retrospect, no one would be able to tell who threw the first ball formed of snow at another bug, but the result was very palpable for every bug happening to be near the market place of Dirtmouth. Snow was flying from all sides, hitting faces and backs and rendering any covering useless in the long run. Quickly groups had established,

people banding together for more coverage and better protection. It was a no-brainer that Ghost and Chlorophyll ended up in a team, both small vessels quickly building up a rudimentary fort to protect themselves while aiming at the other participants. Ghost had been equipped with a big soft coat that was coincidentally rather similar in design to the Nail Master’s own and had taken to snow quickly, running around and exploring in the white eagerly. On the other hand, Chlorophyll’s mossy cloak had been insulated with even more moss, making the small Vessel look a little like a moss ball. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop either of the small Vessels from being true menaces, snow flying rapidly and rather accurately aimed at others, until the cold and the physical activity began to become too much and they were swept up by their older and bigger sibling, starleting both. 

Whereas Ghost and Chlorophyll had taken to the snow well, Hollow had remained rather adverse to the white, cold powder. The cracks in their shell ached in the cold, and as such, the big Vessel remained indoors at most times; however, that did not mean that they had no coat and scarf to go out if they so desired. In this case, it was less a case of desiring it so, but more of a necessity. As the cold and the snow had set in and Hornet had begun to remember the previous cold years before the Kingdom had been sealed, she had also remembered the tradition of a festivity around the time, and the surviving bugs had taken to the mentioning of it eagerly, and the preparations for one such festivity had begun in every house, including the hut the Vessels and their sister were sharing. And now it was Hollow’s task to retrieve their smaller siblings so they may clean up and warm up before the festivity would begin with the meal of a primal aspid caught and prepared by Hornet. 

The preparations went rather smoothly, and soon Hollow was watching over their siblings as they hung their cloaks near the fire to dry and warm them, the small Vessels equally warming up. Satisfied, the bigger Vessel left the room to check in on their sister and see if she needed any assistance. Watching the red-cloaked hunter as she moved through their small kitchen, they were joined by Ghost not all too long after. Both continued to watch Hornet, or in the case of Ghost, attempted to sneak a little test bite, until the older tasked them with retrieving Chlorophyll. It was then that the chaos started anew. While the moss cloak still hung by the fire, the mossy Vessel was nowhere to be found. At first, the search was still calm, simply assuming the other Vessel had left the room momentarily, but the longer the search went on, the more frantic it became. Every common place for Chlorophyll to hide came up empty, and worry began to seep in. Nearly two hours had passed, and Chlorophyll had not been found, and Hornet was beginning to consider that the Vessel had gone outside without their coat and was about to leave to search the outside, when a last surveying look through the room caught some unfitting light green in the dark green of the bush they had retrieved from Queen’s Garden. 

Hornet wanted to be angry for the necessary worry Chlorophyll had caused, but brushing the lower branches aside to reveal the curled-up, most likely sleeping Vessel, Hornet found herself unable to be mad. It was somewhat reasonable after all; her younger sibling enjoyed dark spaces, so it was not unexpected, or should not have been unexpected, that they would

curl up in the shade beneath the bush to use the extra warmth to warm up quicker, and well, no one could deny the temptation of falling asleep in a warm, comfortable spot. As such, Chlorophyll was instead woken with a slight shake, and after they were swiped in a worried hug from their taller sibling, the family finally found themselves gathering around the meal Hornet had prepared and could begin to feast—a new story to remember and make their first Christmas unique in their repertoire.

[sparrowmoth]

Wesper fae au

@waterloou 🎵 look what you made me do 🎵 dajkgjdkgd

real talk though, I might have to revisit this AU because hmmm

“Might give ye that one at a discount,” said the merchant, grinning crookedly at Jesper as he leaned in over the counter to peer into a cage shaped like a lantern, clearly Durast-made. “He don’t speak or nothing, won’t eat a thing either, but he’s pretty, ain’t he? Ye could enjoy him a few weeks or get him pinned up like them butterflies.”

Jesper’s fingers twitched where they were resting on his hips, hands so near to his guns that he could feel the cool kiss of pearl handles on his skin. He could easily grab them, shoot this merchant where he stood before he knew his life was over—leave the ghost of him to the mercy of the many fae bought and sold for the old man’s tidy profit.

But that wasn’t the mission, or why he was here, undercover in the elusive Ketterdam Black Market. It’d taken months for Kaz to get this invite, and now, here he was, five hundred kruge in his pocket and a new desire to gamble—not on the cards, but on this creature, frail and sickly in its cage, glowing faint as a dying candle—

He’d caught one glimpse of those big brown glassy doll-like eyes under a messy mop of hair, one glimpse of the rags it wore inside its prison, and decided: it was worth Kaz’s wrath to a take chance here.

“I’ll take him,” said Jesper, pulling out his coin purse. “There’s five hundred in here. You can keep it all. I don’t need your discount.”

The merchant’s grin warped into a smirk. “He’s worth more…”

“He is,” said Jesper, gently taking up the lantern cage and holding it protectively to his chest, one arm wrapped around it. “But I know you meant to charge me less, so you accept my generosity…” His hand brushed the length of his coat aside, showing one of his revolvers at his hip, and the merchant’s smirk turned to a sneer. “And we’ll be on our way now. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The merchant scoffed as Jesper turned away, ignoring the old man’s muttering. There was a faint but pleasant warmth emitting from the lantern cage, and it made Jesper hopeful that there was life enough in this fae yet, he could stoke it back to the fire it was meant to be.

[anime-is-godlike]

dainsleif x reader

Xx angst xX ..meation of fire blood and death

If you are uncomfortable Reading anything related to the bit above please click away and read some fluff

I was walking around the market in the kingdom of khaenri'ah my home and the home of my husband dainsleif who works as a guard and our 3 year old daughter clover who’s accompanying me today on our shopping trip as we walked I hear her yell out

“Daddy!!” I look up and sure enough it’s my husband he looked in our direction with a smile

“Hello you two” he lifts clover in his arms and give me a peck on the cheek and riffles clovers hair a huge smile plastered on his face the whole time

“I was just getting ingredients for dinner tonight” he smiled and put clover down

“I see, I need to get back to work I’m running a little late and you know what those twins are like” I giggle and wave to him as he runs to the castle, as we were walking clover stops dead in her tracks and stairs at something or someone it was a boy a little older then her with blue hair and he seemed to be alone my momma instincts kicked in and I went over to check to see if he was okay

“Excuse me young man are you okay?” He looked up in shock but then smiled

“I’m alright Madam sorry I’m just waiting for my father” he looked around then looks down with a frown

“Are you okay big brother..um” clover piped up trying to think of a name

“Alberich you can call me that” clover nodded with a giggle

“Okay big brother al” I’m guessing his names to difficult to pronounce I giggle to myself, he then looked up his eyes sparking

“My father has arrived thank you kind madam and little lady” he ran of waving that sight made my giggling worse he reminds me of dain when we where younger, I grabbed clovers hand and nudged her to walk with me as we made our way home.

Me and dain met when we where very young our families where friend and often we went to each others houses, yes we where childhood sweethearts as we grew older our feelings never change we got married and soon after clover came into the picture life was amazing…..I wish it remained that way

—————

I was in the kitchen fixing up dinner and clover was in the living room playing it was still early and everything was peaceful

I was just about to light the oven when I felt the ground shake and a glass fall to the floor

“What was that?” Earth quake’s don’t happen here so….

“Clover?” I walked into the living room to see her looking out the windows unmoving

“Sweetie?” I look out with her

“Mummy what’s going on?” I was in shock everything was red it was

“Fire?” My first instinct was to run but what about dain? I then looked to clover..no I need to protect my daughter I pick her up and walk way from the windows in case they shatter

“Mummy?” I look down smiling I need to be strong and not panic I don’t want to frighten her

“Don’t worry hunny everything will be fine we just need to go find daddy okay” she nod and nuzzles her head into the crook of my neck and closed her eyes I take a breath in

Dain don’t worry about us we’ll see each other again, I look out the window it seems the fire is spreading closer to our house we need to get out of here so where not trapped I grab a scarf from the coat rack and tie clover to my chest so she’s got more security in case I need to run with one last knot, I open the door smock filled the air and was nothing but fire and ash I look down to clover so see she’s dozed of that’s good just let he sleep

I look around to see if I can spot my blond and blue eyed husband but to no avail as I was looking around I noticed people gripping there heads in pain I wanted to see if there okay but I have clover with me I need to get out of the kingdom fast

I was now jogging to the edge of the kingdom I was trying to reach the forest outside the walls

“Ehh reee” I then Heard this weird clunky noise and this Machine I’ve never scene before was right in front of me it was huge and had a single hole in the middle of its chest with long arms and legs

“Wait I think dain told me about this I think there called field tillers?” He walked past me and toward the kingdom engulfed with flames…our home I’d no more what are we gonna do now, I look around

“Dain!!?” I yell out to the kingdom

“Dain!!” I call out again I can find him where is he?

“Well, well, well who do we have here?” The voice which spoke out was echoing and didn’t sound human at all I look around and didn’t see anything

“Wrong way human!” I look up to see a figure on the roof of a building in armour head to toe with a huge spear hanging by his side

“Nothing personal” he jumped down spear in the air he was aiming for us I turn around protecting clover with my body and hug her close

“Mummy?” I hear the groggy voice of my now awoken daughter

“Hey sweetie did you have a nice dre-” I then felt something sharp go through me and blood trickles down my back

“Mummy!!” My strength gives out and I fall to the floor still keeping a tight hold on clover

“…Y/n?” I look up to see

“..da..i..n” I see him dash over his face was completely pale and his eyes where in shock, I felt him hold me

“Daddy!!” Clover yelled out hugging me

“Take clover and run” I look at him, he gripped my hand and I smile at him, I could feel my body getting weaker by the second I can tell I’m dying soon

“Hate to brake up this family moment” that voice echoed out again

“I have but one mission” he points his spear at us

“To eradicate all of khaenri'ah” I tug on dains sleeve

“Take…..clover run” he looked at us then to the figure and stood up

“I won’t let you harm my family you piece of shit!!” He ran forward and lunged at the man, the man dodged, I looked down at clover and she looked pale I tried to comfort her but I have no strength in my body to move but I could still speak

“Clover” I felt her more her head slightly

“Mummy loves…..you and will forever….love you” she didn’t really respond to that but I felt a slight nod..why is she so quite?

I heard a huge crash and I saw dain fly into a building I wanted to get up and help but my vision went slowly dark

Is this the end for me?….clover…dain I’m sorry everything was going black and cold

“…n….y….Y/N!!” I heard dain but where is he?

“D..ai…n?” I think he grabbed my hand and I felt something warm against it

“Ple…ase look af..ter clov..er” I felt drops hitting my face..is he crying

“My sweet kni…ght live…and lov..e again p..promise me” I lost all sensations and took my finale Breath

“I’m sorry!! I’m sorry I wasn’t here quick enough please..please stay with me both of you…Y/N!! CLOVER!!!!!” Dainsleif cried over the body of his wife and child the side of his face was badly burnt and he was trying his best not to completely break

“Come back please!!” He pressed his forehead to his wife and child what his wife didn’t know was when the spear went through her it also went through clover as well they both died moments apart

Dainsleif was left alone without the two people he loved the most in the world, no longer will he come home to a smiling wife and his daughter running up and asking to play, no longer will he parole the streets to protect his home he looks out to the burning city with one thing on his mind…………revenge

Revenge on those who destroyed his home and most importantly revenge on those who killed his family

He was a changed man after that day he never opened his heart to anyone ever again the once bright cheerful man was now cold and alone

[weebsinstash]

I could write some dystopian or at least unsettling fucking fics involving like the Invincible universe. Yandere Nolan or Mark is on some crazy shit and wants to basically own you? Yeah the government would probably just. Let that happen. And give you to them on a silver platter actually because, what, is the US government gonna risk angering its biggest military assets over some normie civilian? They'll MK Ultra you into complacency before they lose that edge. Hell they'll break you down mentally FOR whoever they're giving you to if it means "protecting world peace" and also the stock market

Reader finds out they're a Viltrumite? Better make sure no one finds out or the boys in the white coats and Cecil himself are knocking down your door threatening you to "use your power to protect your country" or else. They would probably force you to work with Nolan even if he ever hurt you. I mean they might try to discourage him from doing so but like. What can they actually do. They literally fired a fucking space lazer at him and all it did was give him a nosebleed. You're fucked. There's no stopping him. The government literally just tries to use you as some kind of leverage to keep him on a leash

A Reader with severe depression suddenly going into this manic horrible emotional spin because you're suddenly realizing you can't kill yourself and you're going to live an insanely long time while everyone around you dies and how Nolan could prey on that since, hey, he'll still be here thousands of years from now

Mostly I just think about getting railed by this fit alien dilf though

[holdmeclosertinytaron]

Chapter Five

A/N: Sorry I'm running a little behind! I hope you enjoy chapter five.

Warnings: Explicit language, consumption of alcohol

Word Count: 9.6k

Story Page / FAQs / ETTC chats.

Sat in the middle of the courtyard which itself sat at the very end of Cherry Lane, was a large, fifty-foot Christmas tree that was delicately decorated and covered in brightly coloured Christmas lights. Said Christmas lights had been chosen by the children at Rivercliffe Primary and had been hung by anyone who’d volunteered. 

Even though the four of them, Taron, Amelia, Harry and Luke, were still a little while away, they could begin to see the wondrous tree in all its glory and could distinctly hear the soft sounds of laughter filling the air. It made Amelia feel a certain way. It filled her with joy. 

Ever since she was a little girl, Amelia would go to Chester Christmas market and would be twitterpated with the multitude of glowing lights that lined the wooden huts and the sounds of people chatting and laughing. 

Throughout the entire walk from Taron’s cottage to the courtyard, Taron‘s hand resided on the small of Amelia’s back. She could feel the heat radiating from it through her thick black coat and it gave her a sense of calm. Knowing that Taron was close to her and wouldn’t let her wander away from him left her feeling protected. It was a small gesture but she greatly appreciated it. 

Luke and Harry had spent the walk watching the pair a few paces in front of them chatting and hadn’t missed the way that Amelia’s head would be thrown back when Taron  told her something funny. They enjoyed seeing their friend so blissfully happy without a care in the world. It made a nice change from the way that she would often feel insecure and nervous being literally anywhere. 

'Chestnuts!' Amelia gasped in delight when the smell of freshly roasted chestnuts first hit her. 

There was something so exuberantly bliss about the smell of roasting chestnuts. It was a sure fire way to know that you were really in the depths of winter. Roasted chestnuts smelled like the epitome of winter nights at Christmas markets with loved ones. They smelled like a warm hug in front of a wood burning fire wrapped up in blankets with hot chocolate. If you were to put a colour to the food it would sure as hell be warm oranges and browns. Purely golden. 

'Roasting on an open fire,' Taron replied in song, watching Amelia’s eyes light up as she smiled her biggest smile at him. It was the kind of smile that lit up her entire face. The kind of smile that warmed his heart and made the butterflies swarm. 'Jack Frost nipping at your nose,' he continued as he lifted his glove clad hand up to Amelia’s nose to bop it lightly. 

If they didn’t know differently, Amelia’s two friends would have thought that she and Taron were together and had been for a while. They continuously fell into easy conversation and would talk as though they’d known one another for years. Harry only felt a small twinge of jealousy at the way they seemed to be best friends but ultimately he was happy that Amelia was happy. 

When Amelia’s hat fell off her head after Taron had told a particularly bad joke that still made her fling her head back in laughter, he instantly squatted down to pick it up. After he shook it off to get rid of any twigs. The same thing happened numerous times on the walk and he’d gotten to the point where he wouldn’t let her put it back on herself. Whenever he bent down to pick it up, he turned Amelia around so that she was facing him and he would pop it on her head before tapping the bobble at the top so that he could hear her giggle. 

Her giggle was intoxicating, to say the least. Taron swore that he could listen to it on repeat 24/7. Maybe that was partly why he would do everything in his power to make her laugh when they were together. It didn’t matter what they were doing, he would say something silly or make a funny face regardless. There had been times where he’d done it at a completely inappropriate time and Amelia had to stifle all forms of laughs. 

'You know,' Luke started as he held onto Harry’s arm to stop himself from falling on the cobbles, 'I hope it doesn’t take those two as long as it took us to get together.' 

'What do you mean?' Harry asked in fake offence. 

'Gorgeous, it took us months to get together because you were being an idiot and taking your time to ask me out. And all I’m saying is that they need to not take months.' 

'In my defence, you’re way out of my league and I didn’t think you’d say yes. But I’ll make sure it won’t take them as long.' 

'Why are you two walking so far behind us?' Amelia spoke loudly as she turned around to see where her friends were. 

'Just admiring the view,' Harry winked playfully before falling into chuckles when Amelia flipped him off. 

When they got to the courtyard where the light switch on was going to take place, Taron finally moved his hand from the bottom of Amelia’s back, only to take her hand in his so that he could lead her through the crowd easier. He led the other three through until they were at the gate of the bed and breakfast. 

Autumn, Sada, Spencer, Connor, Noelani and Connor’s crush, Eli were all waiting. They were huddled together up until the moment where Taron got their attention. 

'What took you guys so bloody long?' Spencer asked exasperatedly. 

'Sorry, dinner took longer to cook than I was anticipating. But we’re here now.' 

'Yeah it’s a good job. Amelia, how are you?' Autumn asked as she pulled her new friend in for a hug.

Sada hugged her as well while Taron said hello to all of his friends separately. 

'For the three of you who don’t know, this is Amelia, her friend Harry and Harry’s boyfriend Luke. You three, this is Noelani, Connor and Eli.' Taron introduced the other three and Amelia automatically hugged Noelani. 

'Sada’s told me so much about you and you think the same way that I do.' The two girls laughed together before Amelia said hello to the other two who were standing there. 

'Taron, you need to go make the hot chocolate before I go in and make it myself.' The threat of Sada potentially making the hot chocolate kicked Taron into gear and he sped through the gate leaving everyone else behind. 

That was until he stopped dead and turned around quickly. 

'Amelia?' He spoke loudly so that he could be heard over the chatter of everyone else near them. 'Do you maybe want to come and help me make the hot chocolate?' 

Amelia nodded and followed Taron through to the inside of the building while Autumn, Sada, Spencer and Connor all stood staring at each other and blinking slowly. 

'Did anyone else see that or am I literally going delusional?' Autumn asked in disbelief. 

'What do you mean are you seeing things?' Obviously, Harry was confused. He didn’t know about Taron’s refusal to ever let anybody know about his hot chocolate recipe. 

'Never in the years that I’ve known Taron has he ever invited anyone into the kitchen to help with the hot chocolate. He refuses to ever let anyone know his secret recipe.' 

****** 

Despite Amelia having been staying in the bed and breakfast for two whole weeks, there hadn’t been a time that she’d seen the kitchen so she had no idea what to expect when Taron led her into it. His hand was once again resting on the bottom of Amelia’s back and he walked them to the coat rack where they both removed their outer layers and hung them up. 

'It’s a tad warmer in here than it is outside, isn’t it?' Taron chortled as he wiped his hands down his thighs before grabbing his apron from the hook. 

'Just a little bit,' Amelia replied with the same chortle. It was a rather grand contrast. Instead of being able to see her breath every time she breathed out, she could almost taste the heat that surrounded them. 

They were the only two in the kitchen so it was eerily quiet, with the only sound the low hum of the dishwasher that sat close to the sink. There was the lingering smell of the lamb dinner that Eli the cook made and Amelia swore that she could almost taste the mint sauce that some people had on their food. It was the perfect roast as far as Amelia could tell and she was only slightly sad that she’d missed it. Taron’s toad in the hole was just as nice as a roast would have been though. 

'You alright over there?' 

Taron’s voice startled Amelia. So much so that she spun around in fright with her hand on her heart. Looking at Taron being domestic in the kitchen endeared Amelia more than she could have ever imagined. The apron that he donned had a rainbow watercolour pattern all over it and just added to how endearing Taron  was. 

'Yeah,' Amelia replied wistfully as she walked over to him, letting the tips of her fingers glide along the solid metal of the work surface as she walked. 'Just kinda taking everything in.' 

'Everything okay? You’re kinda quiet. Do you maybe…want to talk about the Henry situation?' 

Amelia immediately shook her head and pulled the sleeves of her jumper over her hands to create makeshift paws. She didn’t want to talk about Henry at all. Let alone when she was with Taron who she liked a lot. 

'No thank you,' she finally spoke up quietly when she was standing beside him. Within minutes he’d gotten all of the ingredients he needed out of the various cupboards and was standing looking at them all, his bottom lip pulled between his thumb and index finger as he assessed everything carefully. 

'What are your plans for Christmas,' Amelia added quietly.

Instantly Taron ’s eyes appeared a tad more green as he smiled a dimpled smile at Amelia. Going home to his family was one of the only things keeping Taron going. His family and Amelia. 

'I go home on the 22nd and I’m going to walk into Santa’s bakery!' He exclaimed. Amelia laughed and he looked at her seriously. 'I’m not kidding. There’ll be mince pies, gingerbread houses, sugar cookies, chocolates, BOILED SWEETS! I won’t be able to bloody move.' 

'That sounds so fun though. We don’t go that extreme.' Amelia had, on numerous occasions in her life, begged her parents to do more baking around Christmas but they never had time. 'We have mince pies and that tends to be it.' 

'When do you leave?' Taron‘s question caught Amelia off guard and she stayed silent as she was beyond confused. 'I was going to suggest that maybe…you could come to mine before you go and we’ll make gingerbread houses?' 

'Really?' Taron smiled as he nodded. 'That sounds amazing. Thank you, Taron.' 

'You’re not even going to say that you wouldn’t want to put me out?' Taron joked to which Amelia playfully slapped his shoulder. 'It’s no problem though. I’ll go to Tesco and buy sweets.' 

'Sounds good. I go back on the 21st, by the way.' 

Taron nodded before continuing to stir the milk that was heating up on the stovetop. 'Do you have any other plans? Besides baking?' 

Taron nodded again. 'On Christmas Eve after we’ve prepared dinner for the next day and wrapped any last gifts we all sit in the living room and give one gift each. I can’t wait to give my mum her gift though.' 

'Really?' Amelia asked. 'What did you get her?' 

'The watch she‘s been eyeing up since May.' Taron started to add the hot chocolate powder to the heated milk. 'She won’t expect it either.' 

'That’s so sweet. Are you close to your mum?' 

'Yeah. She’s like my best friend, you know? I can’t wait to see her.' 

Amelia wouldn’t ever admit it but her heart almost burst at how loving Taron was and even though they rarely talked about their families, she could tell that family meant a lot to him.

'She’s lucky you have a son as amazing as you.' 

'Your mum’s lucky to have a daughter like you. What are your plans?' 

'It’s the same every year. We wake up and have breakfast together before preparing the Christmas dinner. Then we have a carol service at church before we go home and watch four Christmas films.' 

'Four? That’s a rather specific number.' 

'It starts with Love Actually, then we watch Get Santa followed by The Holiday and then we finish with A Christmas Carol before we all do our own thing before bed.' 

'Okay. I’ll allow that,' Taron winked as he turned around to start pouring the hot chocolate. 

'Oh, you’ll allow it, will you?' Amelia questioned with a grin. 

'Yeah. I’ll allow it.' He turned back around so that he was facing Amelia again and smiled at her just as wide as she was smiling at him. 

******

'Careful, it’s hot,' Taron warned as he handed Amelia the first cup of hot chocolate, topped with squirty cream and a crumbled Cadbury’s flake. 

Amelia guffawed as she pulled the drink up to her mouth. 'I’m 29, I think I can drink hot chocolate like a responsible, grown adult.' 

'You say that but you have squirty cream all over your nose,' Taron laughed quickly before rolling his lips into his mouth to stop himself. 'Here let me take a photo to show you.' 

He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and swiped to the camera, aiming it at Amelia’s face and letting it focus. What he thought was going to be a normal photo simply to show her the cream on her face turned into Amelia sticking her tongue out and scrunching her eyes closed. 

He chuckled lightly before pressing the little photo in the bottom right of his corner and showing his phone screen to Amelia who looked mortified when she saw herself. 

'Oh my fucking god. Why am I like this?' 

'Like what?' Taron asked without skipping a beat as he put his phone back into his pocket and took a step closer to the girl in front of him. 

Amelia was stuck in place when Taron’s eyes caught hers. They didn’t blink, and they didn’t look away. Not even when Taron lifted his thumb up to wipe the cream away from Amelia’s nose. Time stopped still around them as he cleaned his thumb on his apron before lifting his hand up once more to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

Her hands were clammy from the anticipation of what was about to happen and she feared that the tremendous beating of her heart could be heard by Taron. She was sure that the sound was ricocheting from the surfaces and appliances around them both. Never before had she been so nervous about something that she didn’t know what was about to happen.

'You’re so pretty, baby,' Taron whispered as he let his hand rest on Amelia’s jaw, his thumb moving from her cheek to the very side of her mouth and back again. 

He worried that Amelia would be able to feel how clammy his hands were getting from nerves. His heart rate had increased tenfold in only a few seconds. There he was, standing in front of a girl who was way out of his league with his hand cupping her jaw and their eyes locked. 

Amelia couldn’t feel how nervous he was for she was far too light headed from hearing Taron call her pretty. He’d called her Pretty Baby before, of course. Though that was always as a pet name. When he said it that evening when they were the only two people in the room, their entire worlds spinning around them as they were solely focussed on one another it was different. 

He said it slowly, quietly, as if he was scared. Amelia could hear the slight wobble to his voice as he said it and she could feel her cheeks heating up as she tried to fight a smile. Her eyes remained on Taron though. So much so that she could see clearly the darker green ring around his iris that was a stark contrast to the rest of it. His iris itself held different flecks of jade green with bits that looked almost yellow. They were the most gorgeous eyes Amelia had ever seen and she would happily stare into them for the rest of her life. 

'So pretty,' he repeated as he licked his lips quickly. 

Amelia watched as Taron finally let his eyes leave hers. But only to flick down to her lips before dragging back to her eyes. They were completely silent then, not even their breathing being heard. But then again, neither of them were sure that they were even breathing. Adrenaline coursed through them and left them feeling intoxicated. 

Intoxicated in one another. 

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Taron was pulling Amelia in a little closer. He tilted his head down a little bit and rested his forehead on Amelia's, taking a deep breath before tilting it down more so their lips were almost brushing. 

Amelia could feel Taron’s breath on her top lip and her breaths grew shaky. It was happening. It was finally happening. She was about to kiss Taron. 

'What the hell is going on in here?' Autumn exclaimed as she pushed the door to the kitchen open. 

Amelia pushed herself away from Taron as he was pushing himself away from her and she jogged over to the sink to busy herself by washing the dishes. Her heart was beating faster than it did when she went on the Oblivion rollercoaster at Alton Towers. She was running on adrenaline which she could tell with the way that her hands were shaking aggressively as she tried to clean up. 

'Did I just walk in on what I think I just walked in on?' Autumn asked as she stared at Taron. 

'No, you didn’t. Now can you get out?' Taron asked loudly as he let out a long breath. 

His heart was still pounding as he stood and looked between Autumn and Amelia. He was about to kiss Amelia. He really, really wanted to kiss her. But as per usual, when he got her full attention and she was focussed on him and only him, someone else came and ruined it. 

Autumn didn’t say anything else for she knew not to push Taron. When she was gone Amelia turned back around. She wiped her hands on the towel by the sink before taking a deep breath. 

'I’m sorry,' Taron spoke in defeat. 

'Don’t be,' Amelia replied as she walked over to the man who had her heart. 'We should maybe get outside though, yeah?' 

******

By the time Taron and Amelia got back outside, everyone had moved from their crowds where they mingled and were instead standing in a circle around the Christmas tree. Rather than the low hum of their chatter, all Amelia could hear was the sound of them singing some of her favourite Christmas carols. She turned to Taron and squeezed his hand gently as if to prove to herself that she wasn’t dreaming. 

It didn’t take them long to find their friends who weren’t too far away from where they’d been when they first got there. As they got close enough that they were seen, they unlinked their hands and moved to stand with everyone else. Taron grabbed the tops of Amelia’s arms gently and pulled her so that she rested against his front. To give her that little bit of extra warmth, he wrapped his coat around the both of them and held it at her tummy. 

Amelia turned around the best she could in her arms and closed her eyes in bliss. When she turned back around, Taron moved so that he could rest his chin on her shoulder. He swayed them in time with the songs being sung, only moving slowly so that Amelia wouldn’t spill her hot chocolate all over herself. 

'The First Noel, the Angels did say…was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay,' Taron  whispered, smiling to himself when he saw the goosebumps rise on her skin from the heat. 

'Born is the king of Israel,' Amelia sang quietly when it got to that part. She could feel Taron ’s breath tickling her ear. It felt nice in the incredibly bitter weather Rivercliffe was facing. 

At one point while they were singing and enjoying their surroundings, Taron had moved his head a little so that his cheek was resting against Amelia’s. He could feel every movement of her jaw when she sang, and she could feel every tiny hair that was growing along his perfectly chiselled jaw.  

Of course, they didn’t miss the looks they were getting from their friends. Even Spencer, who was the biggest fan of Amelia potentially ever, was looking at them both as if to ask how they weren’t together already. Taron started to roll his eyes every time that he saw someone look at them while Amelia would breathe a tiny laugh. 

'And you swear you’re not together?' Autumn asked dumbfoundedly. 

Taron nodded but pulled Amelia closer to his body. 'I swear.' 

When he moved his head back to rest properly on Amelia’s shoulder, he could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek and it left him smiling that tiny bit more. There was something so natural in holding Amelia close to his body with their heads touching. He didn’t know why it felt natural but he wasn’t ever going to complain. 

Being in Rivercliffe with Taron, Harry, Luke and Taron ’s friends as they stood in front of one of the nicest decorated Christmas trees she’d ever seen and singing Christmas carols while cradling hot chocolate left Amelia feeling so unbelievably relaxed. If she could, she would stay in Rivercliffe forever. Though she’d want everyone with her like they were that night. 

In her month in Rivercliffe, Amelia had grown to love the tight-knit community and the thought of having to leave left her stomach clenching. She was fighting tears every time she thought about leaving. The thought of leaving not only the village, the people in the village but the thought of leaving Taron. 

Never before had Amelia started to fall for someone so fast. From the very second she laid her eyes on Taron  when he walked through the front door of the bed and breakfast, she knew that she was in for a ride. 

What she didn’t expect, however, was the kind of ride. In only a month she had become close friends with Taron, shared a bed with him when he was only wearing his boxers, had an argument that wasn’t really an argument, made up and started acting like a couple again. 

There hadn’t been many days where she didn’t message Harry to tell him about the things that she’d gotten up to or the things she’d noticed about Taron. She’d confided in her best friend so much about how worried she was that she was being ridiculously obvious in her feelings for him, or that she was being naive in thinking that he could ever be interested in her. Harry had, of course, assured her that anybody would fall in love with her and that she just had to let Taron realise it himself. 

The issue there was that Taron was also incredibly worried that he was being overly obvious in his feelings or was being naive in thinking that Amelia could ever be interested in him. They were both as bad as one another and had they known the other’s thoughts, it might not have taken them so long to get together. 

During O Come All Ye Faithful, Taron started to dance a little more dramatically simply in hopes of eliciting a giggle from Amelia. It was his favourite sound and he wanted to hear it forever. Whenever she was subconsciously comfortable enough where she would giggle without realising, Taron’s stomach did somersaults. Just as it did in the pub not too long before, the butterfly that normally sat on his stomach felt as though it was fluttering around. 

When Taron wiggled their hips a little too fast, Amelia lost grip on her cup and very nearly let it fall to the floor by her feet. Luckily for her, and her what would have been wet feet, she managed to get a grip of it again. She didn’t need to turn to Taron the entire way before she could see his lips rolled into his mouth in an embarrassed laugh. 

'I’m sorry,' he mouthed. He truly was sorry. The last thing he meant to do was make her drop her drink. 

He was nervous of her reaction up until the second he saw her lips start to curl. Soft giggles escaped her before she could even think about it. Those soft giggles filled Taron with an indescribable feeling. He felt so drawn to her when he heard her giggle, so blissfully unaware of his true feelings. 

'And I thought I was clumsy,' Amelia replied with a gentle smile when she’d calmed down. She could feel Taron move his hand so that it was resting over hers on her tummy and she felt so warm on the inside. 

Taron had a knack for making her tummy swarm with butterflies and her head cloud with adoration. She adored him. More than she ever thought possible. 

As they remained silent through the rest of the sing, they leaned into one another more and Amelia let her eyes close softly. She wanted to remember the moment forever, feel Taron’s hand resting above hers on her stomach, hear his breathing in her ear as they stood together, see his stubble whenever she turned to face him, taste his hot chocolate that was so special and smell…him. 

If she could be enveloped in Taron’s scent for the rest of her life she would die happy. He smelled fresh but musky, soft but manly, playful but serious. She could never pinpoint quite how he smelled because she only knew it as pure perfection. 

She was finally happy with someone. So happy that she didn’t care who saw or who found out. Amelia adored Taron. 

******

Autumn had been the very first person from the group to spot her, followed closely by Amelia. Her blonde hair swished behind her and her blinding smile made Amelia roll her eyes. Taron was too deep in a conversation with Harry to notice her at first and Amelia had to admit that she was slightly thankful. 

She liked the idea of Rosie seeing Taron’s arms wrapped tightly around her body with his head resting on hers despite it being turned so that he could talk to Harry. Amelia was never a jealous person, but she wanted to make Rosie jealous while also marking her territory. Not that she had any territory to mark, Taron wasn’t hers. 

It took mere seconds for Rosie to reach the group, her sickly sweet smile not one she was very happy to see. And that was before she’d even opened her mouth. 

'I wasn’t expecting you all to be here!' She smiled widely, reaching her hands out to start embracing all of her old friends. Her voice was just as shrill as it had been the first time Amelia saw her, and it still gave her chills. 

When her voice finally reached Taron, he didn’t tense up like Amelia expected him to. No, instead he peeled himself away from their embrace and walked around Amelia so that he could embrace the woman who Amelia could not stand. 

Their hug lasted seconds longer than Rosie’s hugs with her other friends. She hadn’t even hugged Autumn for as long as she had Taron. When Taron finally pulled away from the hug, Amelia heard herself sigh in relief. She quickly turned to Harry who had heard her and rolled her lips into her mouth to shush herself. 

'You know her?' Harry mouthed. 

Amelia nodded and was just about to reply when she felt Rosie’s hand on her arm. 'Amelia! It’s nice to see you again.' 

'It’s nice to see you too, Rosemary,' Amelia forced back. It wasn’t nice to see her again. So much so that she refused to call her by her real name. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at the two girls as they hugged one another. It took him a few seconds to piece together who the girl was, but as soon as he saw the look of pure annoyance on Amelia’s face he knew who the girl was. Though he was sure that she was called Rosie and not Rosemary. Then it hit him, Amelia said the wrong name on purpose. And if Amelia called the girl by the wrong name, then he sure as hell was going to too. 

'It’s Rosie, silly,' she replied with a giggle, turning to hug Harry and Luke quickly despite having never met them before. 'It’s nice to meet you.' 

'You too,' Harry forced through gritted teeth and a fake smile. 

****** 

When the group had settled down and Taron moved to hug Amelia from behind again, Amelia had been annoyed. He’d invited the woman that caused a huge scene between them a mere few days prior to join them at the switch on. And to make matters worse, Rosie had eagerly taken him up on the offer with a, 'Thanks babe face,' and hugged his arm. 

Taron couldn’t understand why Amelia had brushed him off when he tried to hold her again and he kept nudging her to see if she was okay. When he asked the first time she told him that she was fine. He didn’t believe her. Gone was the softness from her voice. It had been replaced with a bitterness that he couldn’t put his finger on properly. 

As far as he could tell, there was nothing for Amelia to be upset about. He’d simply asked one of his oldest friends to join them while they enjoyed their evening. Even Amelia knew that she shouldn’t feel jealous because they were old friends but the sheer thought that something might have gone on between them was enough for her to feel sick to the stomach. 

'Everything okay, pretty baby?' Taron asked for what felt like the millionth time that evening. Apparently Amelia saying that she was fine once wasn’t enough to convince him. Then again, when she replied that she was fine, she took a step closer to Harry and moved to wrap her arms around his left arm. 'You seem off all of a sudden and I don’t like it.'

'Taron I said, I’m fine,' Amelia bit back through gritted teeth. She pushed herself away from Harry and walked towards Kaine, calling his name when she got close enough that he would hear her. 

Taron watched her walk away and fall into the awaiting arms of Kaine who held her close to his muscular body and rocked her gently. His hands rubbed up and down her back as he comforted her. Harry watched Taron watch Amelia and he knew instantly that there was a wave of jealousy rushing through Taron . 

‘Now you know what it’s like, dickhead’, he thought as he shook his head. 

It didn’t take long for Kaine to wrap his coat around Amelia, who was shivering profusely, as well as himself and Taron suddenly felt cold. Cold and empty. He should be the one hugging Amelia to his body with her arms around his middle under his coat, not Kaine. Taron should be the one kissing the top of Amelia’s head and comforting her when she feels like shit. 

But he didn’t know why she’d gone to Kaine and not him. She told him that she was fine and he couldn’t for the life of him think of what he’d done wrong to cause her to walk away from him completely. 

It took seeing Amelia so openly allowing someone else to show her affection for Taron to realise that maybe, just maybe, Amelia didn’t want to be with him at all. If she did then she would have hugged Taron again after Rosie got to the group, she’d have pushed herself into his front more like she did when he first wrapped his coat around her and she would have let him kiss the top of her head like he so wanted to. 

Watching Taron look jealous when he was the one that caused Amelia’s sudden outburst made Harry angry. There was no way that Taron didn’t know what he’d done wrong…surely. He had to talk Taron away from Rosie who stood with her arms around Taron’s arm. That was enough for Harry to have to take a deep breath to stop himself from having an outburst of his own. 

'Hey, Rosemary,' he started, knowing full well that he’d said the wrong name. Rosie didn’t even correct him, instead she turned to him with a smile. 'If you were wanting a hot chocolate then I’d go get one now. Luke went to get one and they’re running low.' 

Rosie nodded, squeezing Taron’s arm gently and smiling at him sweetly. 

'I’ll be right back,' she whispered and Taron only nodded. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Harry lifted his hand and smacked Taron around the head. 'You’re a wanker, you know that right?' 

Taron lifted his right hand to cradle the part of his head that Harry had smacked, frowning as he did. 'What was that for?' 

'You know what that was for,' Harry seethed. 

'No, I don’t. Why am I a wanker?' 

'You have her,' Harry spoke strongly as he flung his arm out and pointed to Amelia who was crying into Kaine’s chest, 'within your grasp and you choose miss leggy ‘babe face’ who doesn’t know her arse from her head? Honestly?' 

Luke took hold of Harry’s arm in an attempt to stop him from swinging at Taron. He knew that his boyfriend wasn’t a violent person but when it came to protecting someone he loved he could get irate. 

'Babe, calm down,' he whispered, eyeing him warningly. 

'What do you mean I have her within my grasp?' Taron quizzed, watching the way Kaine pushed Amelia back enough to look into her eyes to see how she was feeling. 'Every single time I manage to finally get her attention someone else, i.e., Kaine, comes and snatches it from me. I can’t fucking win.' 

'You really are even slacker than I thought, aren't you? How have you not realised that Kaine has a girlfriend? Amelia and Thalia were best mates in school. He likes Amelia…as a friend.'

'Oh,' Taron replied simply. His lips rolled into his mouth as he gulped and watched Kaine finally make Amelia giggle. He should have been making her giggle but he’d been so far up his own arse that he hadn’t seen her right there in front of him. 

He felt stupid. More than stupid, really. The entire time he’d known Amelia he thought that she was into someone else and she wasn’t. She was being friendly with her friend’s boyfriend. For weeks she had been in Rivercliffe and at any point Taron could have just not been a baby and asked her out on a date. But he hadn’t. And maybe…maybe he’d left it too late. 

Why would Amelia, someone who was way too good for him and could have anyone she wanted in the world, want to be with him when he’d been so blind? If he couldn’t see that Kaine was just a friend, how was he meant to protect her from the world? He couldn’t do that the way she needed him to. He was Taron, and she was Amelia. They were two completely different people who probably shouldn’t be together. 

'It’s about time you be a man and fucking grow a pair, mate. Because if you don’t then you’re going to miss out on what would have been the best thing to ever happen to you. Having her around feels like you’ve just won the lottery. She’d do anything for anyone and she’s there for you no matter what she’s going through.' 

'She wouldn’t want to settle for someone like me though,' Taron sighed, wishing that he didn’t have to witness Amelia in the arms of another man despite him not feeling good enough for her. 

'There is no way that I will come out of this alive because she made me promise to not tell you but, she’s texted me daily telling me how much she likes you,' Harry began, watching as Taron’s eyebrows furrowed and his thumb and index finger moved to worry his bottom lip. 

If Amelia was telling Harry that she liked Taron then maybe he still had a chance. But there were way too many people around for him to say anything then. He’d have to wait until they were on their own and there wasn’t any pressure from others. 

'We’ve had phone conversations that lasted hours where all she’s done is gush about the way you’d remembered what her favourite meal was and cooked it for her as a surprise. She told me that you had Kaine create a drink just for her in the pub and you called it Snookums. Never has a bad word left her mouth regarding you. Even when she wants to smack you for being so naive, she still manages to tell me how your hair fell perfectly.' 

Harry let his words sink in before continuing, 'I called her on her first day here to see how she was doing and there and then she said that she could see you in her future.' 

'Really?' Taron replied quickly, finally pulling his eyes away from Amelia and Kaine long enough to turn to Harry. 

Harry nodded, eyeing Rosie heading towards them with two hot chocolates. She smiled at the smaller group before handing Taron one of the drinks. 

'Really, Taron. Seriously, you need to go get her before it’s too late.' 

Harry enjoyed watching Rosie’s face drop as he spoke and Taron felt slightly uncomfortable. The girl he liked more than anything was in the arms of someone else and the woman he wished wasn’t there stood by him. 

'She wants to be with you so stop being a wanker and grow a pair, okay?'

****** 

'You have got to be fucking kidding me,' Amelia grumbled as she moved everything around on the desk trying to find her tea. The one thing that she wanted after a ridiculous night and she was completely out. She couldn’t even text Taron to see if he had any because she didn’t want to. 

'What’s up lovely?' Luke asked gently as he shrugged his coat from his shoulders and hung it up on the back of the door. 

'I’ve got no bloody tea left,' Amelia sighed as she spun around to face her friends. Spinning was a bad idea though. Especially after the mulled wine she drank while they were still out. She could feel herself grow dizzy and she had to hold onto the chair to keep herself upright. 

After Amelia finally joined the group again once she’d had a little cry to Kaine, she stood at the other side of Luke away from Taron. She wasn’t mad at him, per se, but seeing Rosie stood with him laughing at something he said pissed her off. She should’ve been the one to laugh at his lame jokes with her head thrown back. Not leggy, Rosie. 

In an attempt to keep herself distracted from the sickening sight at the other side of Harry, she asked him and Luke what their plans for Christmas were. She was excited to know that they were spending their first Christmas without going to their own families houses but were spending the whole day together. Even though she’d told Taron her own plans hours before, she was still willing to gush to her friends about her plans when they asked her. 

She seemed to have a constant stream of mulled wine and she didn’t truly know where it was all coming from so by the time she finally made it back to her room, she wasn’t able to walk in a straight line and couldn’t think properly. 

'I think you need water, not tea,' Harry piped up from the bed where he’d made himself comfortable. He had the two pizzas in front of him ready to devour when his boyfriend and best friend were ready. 'Or more alcohol!'

Trust Harry to be the one to suggest more of the devil’s juice when they were already buzzed. He was the biggest enabler Amelia had ever known and he could hold his alcohol so well that it took him four times as long to get drunk. 

'We are not having more alcohol,' Luke scolded, pouring three glasses of water and taking one to Harry. Passing Harry his, he climbed onto the bed next to him and cuddled into his side. 'Come and sit down with us, babe. Tell us what’s on your mind.' 

Everyone knew what was on Amelia’s mind. There was no denying it in the way that she expelled a long breath and trudged to the bed where she made herself comfortable in a mound of pillows. She didn’t know how the double bed was big enough for them all to be comfortable but she wasn’t going to question it. There was too much alcohol coursing through her body for her to do that. 

She sat with her friends but didn’t talk straight away. Harry knew that she was trying to process her thoughts so he left her to it, opening the boxes of pizza and drooling at the sight. To say that the three of them were in the quaintest little village in the middle of nowhere, the pizza place made the most amazing, authentic Italian pizzas. Amelia had ordered a takeaway pizza from there on numerous occasions and ate in her room. 

'What did you say to Taron?' she asked quietly and somewhat nervously as she picked up the first slice of capresé pizza. When she pulled it away from her face, the mozzarella created a long string that had her closing her eyes in bliss. 

'It’s not important what I said to Taron. What’s important is that you’re okay.' Harry should have known that the topic of conversation would fall to Taron. It always did. When she joined the group again she would steal glances at him and would be deflated if he wasn’t looking at her. 

'Might have called him a wanker though,' he added under his breath, biting into his own slice of pizza to try and hide his smile. 

'Harry!' Amelia screamed in reply, covering her mouth when she realised how loud she was being late at night. She couldn’t be too mad at Harry because she herself had called Taron a dickhead on their walk back to the bed and breakfast but she also wished that he hadn’t because she worried about how Taron  felt. 

'In my defence,' Harry mumbled around a mouthful of food, his finger in the air to add to his point. He swallowed before continuing to speak, 'He is the biggest wanker for not noticing what is right in front of him.' 

'What? An over-emotional, downright morngy bitch who doesn’t know how to grow a pair of balls and go after what she wants in life? Yeah she sounds like the perfect woman.' 

'No, a beautiful, smart, all-round incredible girl who is way too good for him so he should be thankful that you give him the time of day,' Harry replied quickly. He wouldn’t let his friend be self-deprecating. She was so much better than she gave herself credit for. 

Amelia didn’t know how to reply so she pulled her cheeks into her mouth so that her lips looked like a fish. Luke cackled loudly and Harry shook his head. The alcohol really had gone to her head. 

'You’re such a nightmare, Snookums.' 

The beef wellington that Taron had so kindly cooked for the four of them before the event definitely hadn’t been enough to line Amelia’s stomach properly so the mulled wine she had consumed affected her more than it normally would. 

She sat to the right of Harry on her bed with her hand on his knee and her chin on his shoulder. Luke looked at the pair with the biggest smile on her face, thankful that she got to witness such a lovely friendship first hand. 

'You know you’re my bestest ever friend, right?' Amelia slurred slightly. Harry could smell the alcohol on her breath as she breathed in his face and he chuckled to himself. 'Dunno how I ever got so lucky.' 

'What on bloody earth are you chatting?' Harry asked as he held her into his side. He used his free hand to pull his boyfriend into his other side, kissing the top of his forehead tenderly. 

'I mean it,' Amelia spoke strongly, pulling away from Harry so that she could look him in the eyes. 'You’re the most amazing person ever. You listen to my ramblings every single night, you drive hours just to surprise me when I’m having my little annual getaway because you missed me, you support me through all of my auditions and console me if I don’t get a part annnnnnd you chose the best boyfriend . Not many other people would appreciate their boyfriend having a girl as their best friend but Luke takes it in his stride. He lets me be the third member of your relationship.' 

'You’re like sister wives,' Harry guffawed as he threw his head back. 

'Minus the marriage and the kids and the houses and-' Luke piped up, shaking his head.

'Would you just shut up and acknowledge that you’re sister wives.' 

'Thanks for being my sister-wife, Luke,' Amelia smiled. 

'Thanks for being my sister-wife,' Luke winked. 

The three of them fell into a burst of soft laughter on the bed, the leftover pizzas still in front of them even though none of them were ready to eat any more of it. The tv played some random show that none of them knew but they found themselves watching it anyway. Some rich family was taking in a poor family to show how the other half lived and Amelia found herself growing angry. 

'These are the families who say that they would be willing to help anyone out but they buy this shit with no second thought. That other family works all year to afford a couple of gifts for their kids at Christmas.' 

'I’ve always told myself that I won’t be like that. My kids can earn their luxuries and they’ll know from a young age that they are incredibly lucky,' Harry added, squeezing Luke’s thigh gently as he did. 

'I did an online toy shop the other day and got them sent to my mum’s house. She’s going to wrap them and take them to a donation centre so that kids can have presents this year. Did it with some adult stuff too so that hopefully at least one family can have a good Christmas.' 

Amelia tried to help those less fortunate out whenever she could and that year she decided to do more. She knew how lucky she was and there were so many others who didn’t have what she had. So she made the effort to make someone’s Christmas that bit better. 

******

At midnight, Channel Four played a film that all three of them knew pretty well. 

'I was a baby!' Amelia gasped when her characters walked on screen. She was getting trained as Kingsmen and looked so young. 

'You did! How old were you there?' Luke asked. She’d filmed Kingsman before Luke even knew Amelia so he didn’t know the ins and outs. 

'20/21 I think. It’s been a good four years or so.' Harry’s eyes were glued to the screen, chuckling when Amelia picked her dog up to run. 

They sat in silence for a lot of the movie, neither of them having seen it in a while and forgetting some bits that happened. 

‘Beau looked fit in that scene,' Amelia mentioned, knowing that Harry would know what scene she was talking about. 

The character and Merlin were in the jet ready to enter Valentine’s ‘lair’ and Eggsy had just put on his custom suit. 

'I agree. But I’d have looked fitter. Because I’m the fittest man ever.’

'You are fit, yes. But Taron is so much fitter,' Amelia replied quickly. When Harry faked being offended she slapped his shoulder and giggled. 'Have you seen his muscles? I saw him in his boxers and like…I literally think I saw God.' 

'When the hell did you see him in his boxers?' Harry asked in complete shock. Amelia had missed that vital piece of information out in one of their conversations and he would be lying if he said he felt left out that she didn’t tell him. 

'When I stayed at his house for the night that time. I was on the sofa but got cold so I went to his room and he was there in his boxers and WOW!' Amelia reminisced as she pulled the blanket tighter around her body.

The age of the building meant that the rooms were slightly chilly on a night which led Amelia to burying herself in blankets when she was in bed. Harry and Luke being in the room didn’t stop her from getting cosy, piling blanket after blanket onto herself in an attempt to warm up even slightly. Even Harry–who was a human radiator–got chilly and had to wrap himself in a blanket.

'So you mean to tell me that he made you sleep on the sofa?' Luke asked. Hee didn’t peg Taron as the kind to make Amelia sleep on the sofa kind of guy. 

'No, no. I insisted that I would sleep on it because he had to go to work the next day and he only has the one bedroom. He was more than willing to share his bed though.' 

'Yeah he’ll let you share his bed when he’s just in his underwear but he won’t just fucking snog you will he? Asshole,' Harry muttered under his breath. 

****** 

Kingsman, which none of them had turned off, was still playing in the room. Luke was asleep on Harry’s shoulder whereas he and Amelia were still wide awake. They’d spent a while talking about auditions that they had done together and discussing potential auditions to do together. 

'Yeah, but what if-' 

Amelia was cut off with her phone buzzing on the bed next to her. She knew that if she picked it up she would forget what she was telling Harry but as soon as she saw his name she picked it up anyway. To hell with the consequences. 

From: Taron 

Hope you got back safe. Breakfast at the coffee shop tomorrow? X 

He hoped she got back safe but texted her nearly four hours after they’d left the switch on. And he wanted to meet her for breakfast despite ignoring her for over two hours while they were still out. The rational, sober Amelia would put her phone down and ignore the text messages, opting to reply in the morning when it was too late. The irrational, drunk Amelia, on the other hand, clicked the bar to reply and started to type. 

To: Taron :) 

T and Luke are going home tomorrow afternoon so I’m eating breakfast with them. 

From: Taron :) 

Another time? X 

To: Taron :) 

Another time x 

A kiss. She was mad at him but she ended the text with a kiss. Idiotic…the only word she would use to describe herself in that moment. 

'Who’re you texting at this time of night?' Harry asked playfully as he shifted carefully so that he could hold Luke to him better. 

Amelia wouldn’t reply to him, too busy berating herself for putting that stupid, tiny ‘x’ at the end of her text.  It was only a letter but Amelia wanted to be petty and not put any to him after he’d pissed her off. When she was still out and he was there she didn’t think that she was annoyed but she was. 

Why wouldn’t she be? She knew then that Harry had told him that she liked him and to shoot his shot but he didn’t. Talking to Amelia after that would have been way too easy. But talking to Rosie who would get super touchy-feely and would bat her eyelashes so much that she could lift off at any second? Yeah, that was the best thing to do. 

Harry got fed up of asking who she was texting, not that it mattered but it had clearly affected his friend, so he took her phone from her hands and read the texts, turning to her with a hard glare. 

'You’re having breakfast with him tomorrow! I don’t give a shit if we’re leaving,' he insisted as he started typing. 

Amelia stole her phone back before he could send anything, deleting what he’d typed and stuffing her phone between her boobs where she knew Harry wouldn’t go to get it. 

'I’m having breakfast with you two before you leave me,' she replied with a frown. If she thought for long enough she would cry knowing that her best friends wouldn’t be with her any more. She would have to face Rivercliffe, and Taron, on her own. 

'Invite Taron to join us. He’s trying, Ami.' 

'Wasn’t trying hard enough earlier though, was he?' 

'Don’t be like that!' Harry was exasperated. 'We were around so many other people then. I can understand why he didn’t do anything. Plus, Rosemary or whatever her name is was there and-' 

'Her name is Rosie and she can have him. He clearly likes her more anyway.' 

'You’re really starting to piss me off,' Harry sighed as he shifted. He’d shifted a little too much because Luke sat up and rubbed at her eyes. 

'What the hell are you two going on about now?' 

'Taron invited her out for breakfast and she said no because she planned to come with us. And she’s being pathetic saying that Rosie can have Taron because he likes her more and he wasn’t trying hard enough earlier and whatever shit.' 

Amelia rolled her eyes at Harry and scooted herself back so that she had her back against the cold wall. She pouted and sighed as she tried to talk herself out of her state. Alcohol was definitely a bad idea. It was a way for her to ignore Taron and Rosie being coy but it clouded her judgement so much. 

'Amelia, go for breakfast with him. Or if you don’t want to be alone with him, invite him to join the three of us in the pub.' 

'I’m scared,' Amelia replied after a little while. 

'Scared? Why?' 

Harry stayed quiet, realising that Amelia needed someone calm and unbiased to talk to her. He was definitely biassed to Taron joining them for breakfast and everyone in the room knew it. 

'Because what happens if something happens between us and we get these feelings that are too hard to ignore when I have to go home for Christmas? I can’t face more heartbreak.' 

A single tear fell down Amelia’s cheek and she did nothing to get rid of it. She was really going through all of the emotions that night and she felt like she needed a good cry. Though Harry didn’t know that, he looked at Luke in pure despair. 

'Amelia babe,' he spoke softly, reaching over his boyfriend to rest his hand on Amelia’s arm, 'You already have feelings for him. Whether something happens or not, those feelings are going to come out more when you have to go home. I know it’s hard.' 

'Do you like him?' Harry asks just as softly as Luke, breathing slowly and watching his best friend hurt without knowing how to help her. 

Amelia nodded quickly, finally looking up at her friends. Her eyes were filled with tears and her chest rose and fell irregularly. 

'Then you need to let him try,' Harry finished. 'There are ways around not being in the same place all of the time. You’re fortunate enough to be able to afford travel to come back whenever you want.' 

To: Taron :)  

Join the three of us for breakfast? In the pub. It’s on me x 

Amelia watched her phone screen as the three little dots appeared within seconds. If she didn’t know any better she’d have thought that Taron was sitting on their chat waiting for her to message. Or maybe he was going to send her a text when she sent one first. 

From: Taron :) 

You’re going to let me pay. But I’m there. What time? X

He was there. He wanted to spend time with her and her friends. Maybe he really was trying and maybe she needed to give him a chance. 

To: Taron

9:30? X 

From: Taron:) 

Perfect. Sleep well, pretty baby. x

[the-shy-artisan]

@angyvalentine​

Sorry, I am just seeing these tags!! ;;;

Have a little more Beastos lore to make up for my slowness:

When Kratos doesn't return home with the rest of his troops, his family just assumes he died in battle. Lysandra never remarries and Calliope mourns the loss of her father.

It is around the time of his disappearance that stories begin to pop up around campfires, market places, and army barracks. Stories and unconfirmed reports of a massive creature with a coat of fur as white as death and marked as if with blood. A fearsome beast with a nasty habit of stalking battlefields to consume the fallen or wounded.

Because of it's usual arrival after wars or great battles, the frightened villagers name this creature "The Beast of Ares," and have taken up arms to protect themselves should it ever stray too close.

Now a beast, Kratos has forgotten some of his humanity. But he remembers Sparta, and he remembers his wife and child. He tries to return to them often, but is usually driven off with spears and fire.

Although frightened of the beast, Calliope can't help but feel something familiar whenever she spots it...

When not out terrorizing the country side or watching over his lost family, Beastos is usually kept chained at the base of Ares's throne.

Ares will sometimes ride upon Beastos's back into battle. More often than not, Beastos is sent out at the end of a war to "persuade" soldiers and their villages into serving Ares and his army. Those who refuse are eaten and their homes razed to the ground.

At one point, Athena earns custody of the beast, after besting Ares in a contest (future side fic idea I have yet to fully plan out OTL).

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 4 - page 4/?

original word count: 2843

revised word count: 1521

click for ch 4's full comparison document.

original:

Elain’s wail reached a high-pitched shriek. I kept my chin up. “A wolf?” “A large wolf with a gray coat,” he snarled in response. Would he know if I lied? Faeries couldn’t lie—all mortals knew that—but could they smell the lies on human tongues? We had no chance of escaping this through fighting, but there might be other ways. “If it was mistakenly killed,” I said to the beast as calmly as I could, “what payment could we offer in exchange?” This was all a nightmare, and I’d awaken in a moment beside the fire, exhausted from my day at the market and my afternoon with Isaac. The beast let out a bark that could have been a bitter laugh. He pushed off the table to pace in a small circle before the shattered door. The cold was so intense that I shivered. “The payment you must offer is the one demanded by the Treaty between our realms.” “For a wolf?” I retorted, and my father murmured my name in warning. I had vague memories of being read the Treaty during my childhood lessons, but could recall nothing about wolves. The beast whirled on me. “Who killed the wolf?” I stared into those jade eyes. “I did.”

revised:

“For a wolf?” The vague memories I had of being read the Treaty during childhood lessons didn’t mention wolves. The beast said, “Who was it who killed him?” I lifted my chin. “I did.” The beast studied me, long enough I noticed the flecks of amber within its green eyes. I could only imagine what it saw looking at me. Hunger had hollowed me to the point of frailness. My skin was sallow, and my hair hung limp and thin around my shoulders. “Not you.” The beast glanced at my sisters. “Surely you lie to protect someone.” “We didn’t kill anything!” Elain wept. Her face was as pale as the snow sweeping in through the broken door. “Please!” Nesta hushed her sharply and pushed Elain further behind her. My chest caved. I repeated, “I killed it. I sold its hide at the market today.” The beast, who’d been sniffing at my sisters, turned. I decided to push my luck. “If I’d known it was a faerie, I wouldn’t have touched it.” “Liar,” the beast snarled. I shifted my grip on my blades. My hands were cramping with how tightly I clutched them. “Can you blame me?”

[bunnyjoyce-blog]

In Ch 4 of Corrie ten Boom’s autobiography, The Hiding Place, she gives an account of a German apprentice at her family’s watch shop who had been a part of the Hitler Youth, which gives a peek of the indoctrination levels already in place by 1939.

—

And while Haarlem and the rest of Holland strolled and bowed and swept its steps, the neighbor on our east geared for war. We knew what was happening—there was no way to keep from knowing. Often in the evening, turning the dial on the radio, we would pick up a voice from Germany. The voice did not talk, or even shout. It screamed. Oddly, it was even-tempered Betsie who reacted most strongly, hurrying from her chair and flinging herself at the radio to shut off the sound.

And yet, in the interludes, we forgot. Or, when Willem was visiting and would not let us forget, or when letters to Jewish suppliers in Germany came back marked “Address Unknown,” we still managed to believe that it was primarily a German problem. “How long are they going to stand for it?” we said. “They won’t put up with that man for long.”

Only once did the changes taking place in Germany reach inside the little shop on the Barteljorisstraat, and that was in the person of a young German watchmaker. Germans frequently came to work under Father for a while, for his reputation reached even beyond Holland. So when this tall good-looking young man appeared with apprentice papers from a good firm in Berlin, Father hired him without hesitation. Otto told us proudly he belonged to the Hitler Youth. Indeed it was a puzzle to us why he had come to Holland, for he found nothing but fault with Dutch people and products. “The world will see what Germans can do,” he said often.

His first morning at work he came upstairs for coffee and Bible reading with the other employees; after that he sat alone down in the shop. When we asked him why, he said that though he had not understood the Dutch words, he had seen that Father was reading from the Old Testament which, he informed us, was the Jewish “Book of Lies.”

I was shocked, but Father was sorrowful. “He has been taught wrong,” he told us. “By watching us, seeing that we love this Book and are truthful people, he will realize his error.”

It was several weeks later that Betsie opened the door from the hallway and beckoned to Father and me. Upstairs on Tante Hand’s tall mahogany chair sat the lady who ran the rooming house where Otto lived. Changing the bedsheets that morning, she said, she had found something under his pillow. And she drew from her market satchel a knife with a curving ten-inch blade.

Again, Father put the best interpretation on it. “The boy is probably only frightened, alone in a strange country. He probably bought it to protect himself.”

It was true enough that Otto was alone. He spoke no Dutch, nor made any effort to learn, and besides Father, Betsie, and me, few people in this working-class part of the city spoke German. We repeated our invitation to join us upstairs in the evenings, but whether he did not care for our choice of radio programs, or because the evening ended as the morning began, with prayer and Bible reading, he seldom did.

In the end, Father did fire Otto—the first employe he had ever discharged in more than sixty years in business [sic]. And it was not the knife or the anti-Semitism that finally brought it about, but Otto’s treatment of the old clock mender, Christoffels.

From the very first I had been baffled by his brusqueness with the old man. It wasn’t anything he did—not in our presence anyway—but what he didn’t do. No standing back to let the older man go first, no helping on with a coat, no picking up a dropped tool. It was hard to pin down. One Sunday when Father, Betsie, and I were having dinner at Hilversum I commented on what I thought was simple thoughtlessness.

Willem shook his head. “It’s very deliberate,” he said. “It is because Christoffels is old. The old have no value to the State. They’re also harder to train in the new way of thinking. Germany is systematically teaching disrespect for old age.”

We stared at him, trying to grasp such a concept. “Surely you are mistaken, Willem!” Father said. “Otto is extremely courteous to me—unusually so. And I’m a good deal older than Christoffels.”

“You’re different. You’re the boss. That’s another part of the system: respect for authority. It’s the old and the weak who are to be eliminated.”

We rode the train home in stunned silence—and we started watching Otto more closely. But how could we know, how in Holland of 1939 could we have guessed, that it was not in the shop where we could observe him but in the streets and alleys outside that Otto was subjecting Christoffels to a very real, small persecution. “Accidental” collisions and trippings, a shove, a heel ground into a toe, were making the old clockman’s journeys to and from work times of terror.

The erect and shabby little man was too proud to report any of this to us. It was not until the icy February morning that Christoffels stumbled into the dining room with a bleeding cheek and a torn coat that the truth came out. Even then, Christoffels said nothing. But running down to the street to pick up his hat, I encountered Otto surrounded by an indignant little cluster of people who had seen what happened. Rounding the corner into the alley, the young man had deliberately forced the older one into the side of the building and ground his face against the rough bricks.

Father tried to reason with Otto as he let him go, to show him why such behavior was wrong. Otto did not answer. In silence he collected the few tools he had brought with him and in silence left the shop. It was only at the door that he turned to look at us, a look of the most utter contempt I had ever seen.

[stareyeddistinguishment]

oh can we see michael interacting with a cat? or maybe adam trying to teach him to climb a tree? love your stuff btw!

Hi Anon, thank you for the prompt! You get a one-shot from the Midam Superhero AU. Please enjoy!

Submit your prompt! (See: Prompt-drive post)

It had been nine months since the start of the events at the Veridian Medical Complex. It had been six months since Mi Ki-El’s undercover assignment posing as Michael de Angelos had caused him to meet Dr. Adam Milligan. And it had been four months and three weeks since Mi Ki-El had broken the League of Free Will’s Statute of Secrecy, revealing himself to Adam as the Protector, the leader of the cybernetic superhero team the Archangels. Since that reveal, Adam had started dating the Celestial. Today, marked their six-month anniversary.

This was why Mi Ki-El flew through the air, on his way to Adam’s apartment. Mi Ki-El appeared in his guise as the Protector – his cybernetic wings held wide, his metallic cowl covering his face, and his cybernetic implants worn on the outside of his skin. Clasped firmly within each of Mi Ki-El’s metallic-coated hands, he clutched a folded paper bag stamped with the words “Giovanni’s Italian Cuisine.” Adam really liked Italian food, and Michael was going to surprise his boyfriend with takeout from the best Italian restaurant in the city. (Raphiella assured Mi Ki-El that Giovanni’s was the best Italian food in Techtropolis. Raphiella, a “trendsetter,” was always up to date on the latest “foodie blogs.”)

From Giovanni's, Mi Ki-El had ordered eggplant parmesan, Adam’s favorite Italian dish, with side salads and tiramisu for dessert. One paper bag held the hot food while the other held the cold food. Adam would be so surprised! Mi Ki-El was very excited to share the evening with his boyfriend.

“Protector, I see you’re in the air above 6th and Market Street.” Bobby Singer’s voice suddenly filled Mi Ki-El’s cybernetic comm. Bobby, codename Operator, acted as the Archangel’s handler. He provided intelligence and monitored the Archangel’s communication lines. As well, Bobby provided an interface to the League of Free Will.

“Yes. Operator, I am at these coordinates,” Mi Ki-El confirmed.

“There’s an apartment fire six blocks from you on 7th and Rio. It’s a 20-story tower, and you’re the only super in the area.”

Mi Ki-El sighed. “I will proceed.”

“Sorry to do this to you on this day of all days,” Bobby added apologetically.

“I will be quick.”

Locating a six-story parking garage on the ground below him, Mi Ki-El landed on the sixth floor. He left the takeout bags in the shade of a small enclosure. Here, the anniversary dinner would be protected from the elements. Then, the Protector flew to the rescue.

The 20-story apartment fire was poorly contained when Mi Ki-El arrived on the scene. Immediately, Mi Ki-El flew from floor to floor, rescuing trapped residents and flying them safely onto the ground. Then, he aided the fire department in containing the blaze. In totality, this took almost two hours.

Now tired and smelling of smoke, Mi Ki-El hastily returned to the sixth floor of the parking garage, retrieved the two bags of his stowed anniversary dinner (the eggplant parmesan now likely cold and the tiramisu now likely warm), and then made for Adam’s apartment building.

He landed on Adam’s balcony (making sure to engage his reflective shielding to avoid obvious detection by persons on the ground) and then knocked on Adam’s patio door.

“Mi Ki-El!” The patio door was hastily retracted as Adam stepped outside. Adam flung his arms wide as if to embrace Mi Ki-El before aborting at the last moment when he noticed the twin folded paper bags clutched in the Celestial’s metallic-covered hands. “Hi! What’s going on? I wasn’t expecting you.” Adam paused and then frowned. “Also, why do you smell like smoke?”

“Hello, Adam,” Mi Ki-El returned happily. “This day marks our six-month anniversary. I am engendering to make this a surprise for you.”

“Oh, hey! That’s really sweet.” Adam’s smile was as present in his voice as it was on his face. “Although, I thought next month was our six-month anniversary?”

“No. Adam, next month marks our six-month first-date anniversary. This day marks our six-month first kiss anniversary.”

“Huh.” Adam’s grin widened. “Well, I’m all for celebrating that.”

“Indeed.” Mi Ki-El readily agreed. Then, the Celestial paused to cock his head, aggrieved. “However, I was called to duty while retrieving your surprise.” When Adam bit his lip, Mi Ki-El added, “There was a large apartment fire.”

Adam nodded in understanding. “Hence the reason you smell like smoke. Well, feel free to use the shower if you want,” he offered, ushering Mi Ki-El inside.

“Thank you.” Mi Ki-El retracted his helmet and cybernetic implants as he stepped across the threshold into Adam’s apartment. The patio opened onto the kitchen. “However, we should first partake in your surprise.” Mi Ki-El sighed. “Before it is ruined anymore than it already is.”

“Ruined?”

Mi Ki-El set the twin paper bags onto the kitchen table. “These were fresh, two hours prior.”

Sliding the patio door closed, Adam followed Mi Ki-El to the kitchen table. The human shrugged. “I'm sure it’s still a great surprise,” Adam reassured. He peered curiously at the folded paper bags. “Giovanni’s, huh?” he read the stamping on the bags.

“Raphiella cites this as the best Italian takeout among ‘those in the know.’” Mi Ki-El offered by way of explanation.

“And Raphiella is always in the know,” Adam finished the line of thought.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, Raphiella really is.”

Eagerly, Adam dug into the first folded paper bag. He pulled out the containers of salad and tiramisu. The tiramisu was melted.

Mi Ki-El deflated.

“I bet it still tastes amazing,” Adam asserted confidently.

“Perhaps.”

“And what’s in the other bag, I wonder?” Adam folded open the second paper bag. He started to peer inside. “Mmm, it smells like eggplant parm-”

Adam’s voice stalled. His eyes widened.

“-a kitten,” he finished flatly.

“Eggplant parma-kitten?” Mi Ki-El repeated.

“Yeah. Eggplant parma-kitten.”

Adam was staring inside of the paper bag with the most bemused expression.

Mi Ki-El cocked his head in confusion.

In response, Adam motioned Mi Ki-El over. The Celestial peered into the bag.

There were two containers of eggplant parmesan, both opened. Both ransacked. By the tiny gray kitten currently covered in tomato sauce, passed out atop one of the opened containers, and sleeping soundly nestled against slices of still-warm eggplant. Feeling the sudden draft from the unfolded paper bag, the kitten stirred. It opened its eyes to stare upwards at Adam and mewled plaintively.

The dinner was ruined – melted tiramisu, half-eaten eggplant parmesan, and a feral kitten? This was a terrible six-month anniversary surprise. In his humiliation, Mi Ki-El could not even meet Adam’s eyes.

“Did Raphiella mention if Giovanni’s gives side orders of kittens to go?” Adam wondered bemusedly.

“No. No, Giovanni's does not,” Mi Ki-El assured quickly. "That would be quite unsanitary. This kitten must have crept into the paper bag while I was indisposed attending to the apartment fire. I left the takeout unsupervised in a parking garage for two hours." Mi Ki-El stared at the ground. "Adam, I apologize for such a terrible six-month anniversary surprise.”

But then, Adam’s hand was squeezing Mi Ki-El’s.

“Terrible surprise?” Adam repeated. Adam’s tone was so incredulous that Mi Ki-El immediately met his boyfriend’s gaze. Adam was grinning widely. “Mi Ki-El, this surprise is for both of us. This little guy just adopted us. This is the best six-month anniversary present ever.”

“Truly?” Mi Ki-El verified.

“Yeah. You, me, and Eggplant Parmesan, here, are gonna have the best time together.”

“Eggplant Parmesan?”

“Okay, maybe we’ll call him the Tomato Sauce Bandit?”

“The Tomato Sauce Bandit?”

“Cat Burglar? The Great Cat Surprise?”

"No."

And that’s how Mi Ki-El and Adam adopted a little gray kitten named Giovanni.

.

Read more: Link to previous drabble

[sagarg889]

Sirens Market Research by Key players, Type and Application, Future Growth Forecast 2022 to 2032

In 2022, the global sirens market is expected to be worth US$ 170.1 million. The siren market is expected to reach US$ 244.0 million by 2032, growing at a 3.7% CAGR.

The use of sirens is expected to increase, whether for announcements or on emergency vehicles such as ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks. A siren is a loud warning system that alerts people to potentially dangerous situations as they happen.

Rapidly increasing threats and accidents have resulted in more casualties and missed business opportunities in developing economies. Demand for sirens is expected to rise during the forecast period as more people use security solutions.

As a result of rising threats and accidents in developing economies, the number of victims and lost business opportunities has rapidly increased. Adopting security solutions, such as sirens, is an effective way to deal with these challenges. Long-range sirens are used in mining and industrial applications, whereas motorised sirens are used in home security. Hand-operated sirens are used when there is no power or when a backup is required.

Some additional features of sirens include a solar panel upgrade system to keep the batteries charged and a number of digital communication methods, including Ethernet, satellite, IP, fiber optic and others. Sirens have conformal coatings on their electronics, which help protect them against harsh environments. Some of the systems are made in such a way that they can be expanded or scaled depending on future capabilities.

Omni-directional sirens can be used in areas of high noise levels and those with large population densities as they provide a greater area of coverage. Sirens have external controls with triggers, which can be customized according to needs. The lightening types of sirens include bulb revolving, LED flashing and xenon lamp strobe. The loud speakers in sirens are adopted from latest piezoelectric ceramic technology.

Get a Sample Copy of this Report @ https://www.futuremarketinsights.com/reports/sample/rep-gb-4274

Other sirens are hydraulic or air driven and mostly find applications in plants and factories. Lithium batteries have replaced alkaline batteries in sirens now, since lithium batteries need not be replaced for several years. Modern sirens use latest technologies and find applications in civil defense, emergency vehicles, security systems and others. Typically, sirens are made of stainless steel, aluminum or UV stabilized polycarbonate to avoid corrosion and are equipped with protection cages. An LED flashing siren has a light source with a semi-permanent lifespan and it is used in places where bulb replacement is a problem.

Region-wise Outlook

In the global sirens market, the dominant share is held by the U.S., India, China, Japan, Australia, Germany, Singapore and the UAE. This can be attributed to the demand for security solutions in developed as well as developing economies.

The regional analysis includes:

North America (U.S., Canada)

Latin America (Mexico. Brazil)

Western Europe (Germany, Italy, France, U.K, Spain)

Eastern Europe (Poland, Russia)

Asia-Pacific (China, India, ASEAN, Australia & New Zealand)

Japan

The Middle East and Africa (GCC Countries, S. Africa, Northern Africa)

The report is a compilation of first-hand information, qualitative and quantitative assessment by industry analysts, inputs from industry experts and industry participants across the value chain. The report provides in-depth analysis of parent market trends, macro-economic indicators and governing factors along with market attractiveness as per segments. The report also maps the qualitative impact of various market factors on market segments and geographies.

Market Participants

Some of the key market participants identified in the global siren market are Acoustic Technology Inc., Sentry Siren Inc., MA Safety Signal Co. Ltd, Whelen Engineering Co. Inc., Federal Signal Corporation, B & M Siren Manufacturing Co., Projects Unlimited Inc., Phoenix Contact, Mallory Sonalert Products and Qlight USA Inc.

Rising population and rapid urbanization have led to an increase in demand for security solutions. The need for implementation of security has paved way for the use of electronic equipment on a large scale globally, which in turn has created opportunities for the global sirens market. As these products are durable with a high voltage capacity and easy to install, they find high selling propositions. Characteristics and properties of electronic and pneumatic equipment play a vital role in security solutions, thereby driving the global sirens market with a rise in diverse end-user applications, such as industrial warning systems, community warning systems, campus alert systems and military mass warning systems.

Report Highlights:

Detailed overview of parent market

Changing market dynamics in the industry

In-depth Polishing / Lapping Film market segmentation

Historical, current and projected market size in terms of volume and value

Recent industry trends and developments

Competitive landscape

Strategies of key players and products offered

Potential and niche segments, geographical regions exhibiting promising growth

A neutral perspective on market performance

Must-have information for market players to sustain and enhance their market footprint.

Browse Detailed Summary of Research Report with TOC @ https://www.futuremarketinsights.com/reports/sirens-market

Key Segments

Product Type:

Electronic

Electro-mechanical

Rotating

Single/dual toned

Omnidirectional

By Application:

Civil defense

Industrial signaling

Emergency vehicles

Home/vehicle safety

Security/warning systems

Military use

Others

By Installation Type:

Wall mounting

Self-standing

Water proof connector

By Regions:

North America

Europe

Asia Pacific

Latin America

MEA

[magickhajiit]

Sokovia and Spiders

Rating- teens and up

Warnings- Some description of gore/violence

Summary- Peter Parker took on the mantel of Spiderman over a year ago. He’s life been a mess since the spider bite but protecting New York’s citizen gives him purpose.

But a run in with one of the Avengers results in his vigilante lifestyle being threatened. Now with the Sokovia Accords being held over his head Spiderman must evaded capture if he wants to continue to protect his city.

AO3 here

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Hail races away from the grey clouds above, meeting their mark they feel like freezing bullets when they hit Peter’s suit. There’s an actual bullet heading towards him right now, slicing through the air as a knife would butter. Appearing in the form of a prickle of apprehension his spidey sense warns him of it, giving him enough time to flip out of the way before splashing back onto the gravel.  Within minutes of sneaking out of the apartment his suit had been drenched, the colour darkened to navy and blood red. The hail is a hallmark of New York winters right along with freezing breezes and angry people, summers might bring forth warmth, but winters bring a blistering hot derived from the anger of New York’s citizens.   

Spiderman had been on his way back home when he heard the commotion, the reason for the noise became quickly apparent as he leaned over the edge of the rooftop. A man was stood there, in one hand he was waved a gun threateningly in the air, in the other he was clutching the coat of a young woman. Despite his words being slurred and the stench of alcohol he was steady on his feet when he demanded her purse. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to use an authentic weapon but Peter was unwilling to take that chance. She hadn’t yet had a chance to react when spiderman leapt from the roof. He braced himself against the impact of the kick that made the assailant stumble backwards. Before he had the chance to regain his footing the woman took the opportunity to escape, heels clicking on the ground mark her departure. The moments distraction provided the criminal with ample time adjust his stance and pull the trigger.  

Now there’s a bullet lodged in the brick wall, cracks spiralling from where it imploded, having sailed through the air where Peter had been standing only seconds earlier. Irritated at the murder attempt Peter flicks his wrist, he can just about hear the click of the web shooter mechanism firing before the criminal is secured to the wall.  

‘’Hey, hey, hey, this is a new suit.’’ The guy just shouts obscenities at him from his place on the wall, eyes red around the edges, his scowl turning the lines on his face into deep crevices. Peter’s too busy looking at the newly formed hole in the wall, to pay any notice. In his mind's eye he can see what would have happened if the bullet hadn’t missed, metal slicing through spandex and skin before ripping through muscle. Turning his insides into a bloody smoothie. Damp gravel crunching under his weigh as blood loss causes him to crumple. He’d never been shot before, and he’s not adding it to his bucket list any time soon.  

Inserting a new cannister into his suit, his finger quick to fire. He hoists himself upwards, as soon as the web is secured onto a nearby lamppost, before sending a second. The rain has let up slightly as he swings through the city, no longer feeling like violent needles sticking into his skin. 

  Peter can hear him before he can see him, super senses allowing him to detect the suit’s inner engines from streets away. Why Ironman is hovering over the city at 11pm on a Tuesday is anyone's guess. Racking his mind for answers Peter theorises that he was after some criminal trading black market Stark tech. This area was halfway to home and a rough area of the city, infamous for its active drug gangs and weapons dealings. Yeah, that made sense.   

Still, Spiderman slips into the alley, between two apartment blocks, hoping he'd either fly overhead or spontaneously change direction. He wasn’t hiding exactly, just temporarily avoiding. Ironman ignores Peter's inner prayer and continues onward. Just a couple of blocks away now, Peter can hear another accompanying voice.   

‘’Do you have eyes on?’’ The question has a tinny quality about it, undetectable to most, making Peter think there must be a radio installed in his suit relaying the words.   

Fortunately, he can’t recognize the voice, meaning Captain America or Thor are unlikely to drop in on him at any moment. Letting curiosity get the better of him he strains to hear more, hoping in this scenario curiosity doesn't kill the cat- or the spider in this case.   

‘’No, not yet. Police reports confirm he’s been in this area recently.’’   

‘’Maybe he’s already gone.’’   

Peter’s stomach tumbles uncomfortably listening to the conversation unfold. They could be talking about someone else. They probably are. They have no reason to be hunting him. Though with Parker's luck there’s a good chance they are.   

Still, there’s nothing to confirm this until, ‘’No, the web-slinger might be quick, but he doesn’t have super speed.’’  Unless his brand image has been stolen and there’s another web-slinging hero flinging himself around New York then it’s probably him.  Can I sue if there is? Peter wonders.   

To be fair, hunting gangs is more of a Daredevil rather than an avenger thing. Ironman is practically on top of him now, a few more metres and he could look down and see him hanging from the wall uselessly. Futilely Peter shuffles down, wondering if it was better to be discovered or reveal himself.  ‘’Hold on. I installed heat detecting sensors last week.’’  

The flight part of fight or flight should kick in now, but at this moment, it evades Peter. Leaving him frozen as thin metal panels slide into place in Stark’s suit.  ‘’See anything?’’  

Ironman ignores the question in favour of hovering a little closer. So, he can glance directly into the mouth of the alleyway. Without the barriers of cloth and metal, Peter is sure they would be making awkward, uncomfortable eye contact right now.  

When the silence continues for a beat too long Peter fills it, ‘’Err, Hi? I’m a big fan.’’