#prompt: consult and treasure

[blaire-apricity]

Love Language

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴? (𝘎𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨)

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

Giving: Acts of service & Physical touch

Xavier often struggles to articulate his feelings with words, so he relies on his actions to communicate his love.

He might fumble for the right words, but you can read his emotions through his body language, which is where he’s most sincere.

He’s always willing to help you, his acts of service might often go unnoticed because he doesn't draw attention to them. However, you knew him well and understands that these small, consistent efforts are his way of expressing love; whether it's packing your lunch (though let’s be honest, it’s ready meals) or running an errand just for you.

He cherishes physical contact with you, savoring the tingling sensation in his hand and the butterflies in his stomach whenever your hands are intertwined.

He doesn’t mind if you’re busy on your phone or reading a book; he just wants to hold you close.

He loves to cuddle, resting his head on your chest to listen to your steady heartbeat, which reassures him of your presence and your shared moments.

He finds comfort in nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, and imprinting it in his memory.

Receiving: Physical touch

Just as he enjoys giving physical affection, he loves receiving them as well.

He might not show overt emotional reactions but there will be subtle signs such as his faint smile, relaxed posture or his eyes softening.

Physical touch has a calming effect on Xavier, it helps him feel grounded and connected with you.

He doesn’t ask for much even, to the point that kissing him and caressing his cheek takes him aback, prompting him to shyly look down while scratching his nape, a mannerism of his endearment for you.

He adores when you take the initiative, like holding his hand in public to ensure he stays close; especially on crowded areas making sure he wouldn’t get lost, or vice versa.

In private moments, Xavier would be more open to receiving physical touch, allowing himself to be more vulnerable and affectionate. He would appreciate gentle caresses, holding hands, or being held, finding comfort and reassurance.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Giving: Quality time & Physical touch

Despite his demanding schedule as a surgeon, Zayne always carves out time to be with you.

While he might not openly express his enjoyment, his appreciation for quality time can be seen in his willingness to make time for you.

No matter how exhausting his day of consultations and surgeries has been, it all fades away the moment he sees you.

He's usually reserved at affection, most likely to be subtle and reserved. Simple gestures like a gentle touch on the arm or reassuring hand on the shoulder.

However, you can tell he's had a tough day when he comes home still in his doctor coat, walking straight to you and pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting on your chest as he sighs softly.

His strong hands wrap around your waist, gently caressing your back in a possessive yet tender gesture, as if he’s silently conveying that you are the most important part of his life.

In an intimate setting, Zayne kisses you almost greedily, his hand on your cheek, blending his desire with his patience. He wants all of you, yet he’s careful not to push you.

Receiving: Gifts/ Physical touch & Quality time

Zayne treasures the gifts you give him, no matter how small or silly. You might think he’s put them away, but you’ll often find them on his desk, a constant reminder of you.

He loves seeing the little things you’ve given him; they make him smile and think fondly of your thoughtfulness and humor.

While he appreciates physical touch, he values the time you make for him as well.

With both of you having busy schedules, he may not always voice it out, but he deeply appreciates the moments you set aside just to be with him.

He didn’t mind that the things you do together were the simplest, he wasn’t an extravagant person after all.

Watching a movie in the comfort of your home, his arm being cradled by you; that was more than enough.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

Giving: Words of Affirmation & Physical touch

Rafayel may often come across as bratty and snarky, but over time, you’ve learned that it’s his unique way of expressing love.

Sometimes he’ll deny sweet statements or act like a classic tsundere, making you chuckle and tease him about it. He might glare and cross his arms, but deep down, he loves it—especially because it’s you.

Unlike Xavier, Rafayel is adept at conveying his feelings through words, though not always straightforwardly. He expresses his emotions through stories or obscure comments.

He never gives direct compliments, but his playful teases about your quirks show that he pays close attention and values you.

While he might push you away playfully, he loves physical touch. He enjoys subtle closeness—standing near you, leaning in while talking, or initiating contact under the guise of annoyance.

His playful shoves and pokes are his way of being physically affectionate without seeming overly sentimental.

Rafayel always wants you close, never wanting you out of his sight.

In moments of genuine concern, he becomes protective, pulling you out of harm’s way or holding your hand to show solidarity, despite you being his bodyguard.

Receiving: Acts of service & Quality time

Rafayel may not openly express his appreciation for your acts of service, but he deeply values them.

His bratty attitude might downplay your efforts, but inwardly, he feels cared for and understood.

He enjoys the attention and care you provide, even if he pretends not to care or brushes them off with a teasing or snarky remark.

Rafayel cherishes your undivided attention. He never wants to share what’s his, and your focus on him is one of his favorite love languages.

Whenever you’re together, he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else—he craves your sole attention.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

Giving: Gifts & Words of Affirmation

Sylus loves to spoil you rotten, often handing over his card and encouraging you to pamper yourself with whatever you desire.

He’s never stingy with his gifts, showering you with everything from expensive brands to the finest jewelry.

When his busy schedule keeps him away, he leaves you gifts as a token of his affection, making up for his absence.

Though Sylus is cocky and arrogant, he has a way with words, honed from years of making deals and running businesses.

He’s blunt and unfazed by emotional nuances, delivering his words of affirmation with a dose of brutal honesty.

He doesn’t sugarcoat his compliments, which makes them impactful. When he says something affectionate, you know it’s genuine and sincere.

His rare, heartfelt words carry weight, adding depth to his expressions of love.

Receiving: Physical touch & Quality time

Physical touch is one of Sylus's primary love languages. While he doesn’t like public displays of affection, it’s a different story when you’re alone together.

He loves intertwining his fingers with yours, reveling in the sense of superiority from the size difference and the feeling of fitting together perfectly.

Sylus is possessive and greedy, disliking the idea of you being with anyone else.

Though he may appear calm and collected, the slight narrowing of his crimson eyes reveals his disapproval.

He treasures the quality time you spend together, craving those private moments where he can hold you close and feel your presence.

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒-

[sadnesslaughs]

You are a sailor, however a siren in training is trying to get you as you watch her sisters encouraging her from afar.

(Response to a writing prompt)

Roger groaned, leaning against the ship’s railing, getting over his recent bout of seasickness. How was he supposed to know he got seasick? He had never gotten seasick on land before. He thought to himself, covering his mouth as the waves gave the ship another mighty shove with its incredible force.

He expected sailing to be an adventure, one filled with grand treasures, beautiful women and food that didn’t look less appetizing to eat than a brick. Little did he know, he would encounter one of those things on this gloomy night. In the dark depths of the water, Sylia circled the ship, excitedly zooming around the boat while her two sisters watched.

“Sylia, focus. This is your first hunt.” Gia, her older sister, barked, trying to get her sister to focus. Meanwhile, the middle sister, Yuila, followed behind Sylia, bubbles escaping her lips as she laughed, joining in with the energetic moves.

“Lighten up, sis. It’s easy hunting humans.” Yuila smirked.

“Says the one that failed her first three attempts. As the oldest sibling, it is my responsibility to assure Sylia-“

Sylia shot up from the water, her purple eyes glowing in the surrounding darkness, making her stand out. She had scaled skin, and circular holes where her ears should be, being entirely bald too. The creatures needed speed in the water and hair only got in the way when you were dodging predators.

“Hi,” she said, waving her hand at Roger.

Ah, great. Ocean Madness and sea sickness. He thought, staring at the strange creature in the water. Even squinting, he couldn’t make out what she was. “Hey?” He said back, not seeing any reason to be rude to the imaginary visions in his head.

Silence.

Sylia didn’t know what to do now. She had to seduce him or something. Wasn’t that what her sisters said? She needed to get him into the water. Roger heard a loud splash as Sylia swam deeper into the water.

“Sylia, whatever you’re doing is wrong. Please stop and listen. I’ll explain how to pull this off.” Gia said, though her words were ignored.

“GO SIS, YOU CAN DO THIS.” Yulia shouted in support, watching as Sylia grabbed a red fish before returning to Roger.

Holding out the fish, she smiled. “You like fish?”

Roger heard his stomach grumble, rejecting the thought of putting anymore food into his body, at least until the ship stopped wobbling. “Not at the moment?”

Sylia froze, stunned beyond belief. He didn’t like fish? That was her favorite thing. Whether it was eating them, watching them, or swimming beside them. “It’s pretty.” She tried to further her seduction, waving the fish at him.

“Um, yeah. It is? You’re prettier though.” Great, now he was flirting with his imagination. He was glad the others were asleep or else they might have thrown him overboard.

“What?” She lowered the fish into the water, unsure what to do now. Dropping her head below the water, she consulted her sisters. “He said I’m pretty. Is he a siren?”

“Way to go, sis. You got him.” Yulia grinned, patting her sister’s back.

“Actually, it would appear it’s the other way around, since we aren’t feasting on human flesh. We’re all pretty. We have to be to get our prey. Now, you need to get him into the water.”

“What if he doesn’t want to get in the water?”

“Sing to him.”

“Got it.” Sylia shot out of the water, doing a flip, before failing the landing, hitting her stomach against the water’s surface with a heavy thud.

Yulia grimaced. “Ouch. You sure you want her to sing?”

“She’s a siren. She can sing.” Gia said. “I’m sure all those singing lessons you gave her have paid off.”

“Right, lessons….” Yulia hadn’t taught her anything during those lessons, using the time to slack off from her duties. Most of the time, the two spent their singing lessons idly floating on their backs, watching the clouds. Yulia didn’t blame herself for slacking, though. Her sister shouldn’t have put all that teaching pressure on her. Sure, Yulia had the greatest voice of the three, but that didn’t mean she should do all the work.

“Want to hear a song?” Sylia asked.

“Do you know the drunken sailor song?”

“No, I don’t know any songs. I was going to make one up. What’s the drunken sailor song?”

“What do you do with a drunken sailor?” Roger started singing, earning the attention of the siren. Slowly, Sylia moved closer until she was beneath his railing, peering up at him in adoration.

“Incredible. I didn’t know you could do so many things to a drunken sailor!”

Now that she was closer, Roger could make out her features. The beautiful face that had a mouth full of dangerously sharp teeth. The way her blue freckles lit up in the moonlight, she was siren. If he called the captain, they could hunt her for a bounty, and still he didn’t have the heart to do that.

“It’s a fun song. I’m Roger and you are?”

“Sylia. I’m meant to eat you. Can you get in the water?”

Roger could now see two figures floating next to Sylia. One slapped its forehead, while the other rolled about, bubbles appearing near the surface from her laughter. “I don’t want to be eaten. That would hurt.”

Sylia thought about his words before ducking underneath the water. “He doesn’t want to be eaten. He says it would hurt.”

“OF COURSE IT WOULD HURT, THAT’S HOW WE FEED.” Gia snapped.

“I thought we feed on fish?”

“We eat a lot of things.”

“Well, I don’t want to eat him!”

“Get up there and eat that human. We’re sirens. This is what we do.”

“If she doesn’t want to eat the human, don’t make her.” Yulia said. “Think about it. He’s had the chance to attack us, and he hasn’t. Maybe we should spare this one?”

Gia saw the logic in that, even if she didn’t like the idea of sparing a human. “Ok, we can discuss the prospect of spari-“

“WE AREN’T GOING TO EAT YOU NOW!” Sylia shouted, clapping her hands together. “Want to be friends?”

“Um? Sure”

“Great. I’ll come by your ship more often than. You can show me more songs and I’ll… show you more pretty fish. Deal?” Sirens didn’t have a normal shake on it, motion. Instead, they touched tails. Sylia’s attempt at touching tails, however, only splashed a wave of water at Roger, soaking him.

Roger coughed up seawater, wishing he shut his mouth before she did that. When he finished his coughing fit, he nodded. “Ok, deal.” He said, clearing his throat. “Just don’t come out when other people are nearby or you’ll get hurt. If no one’s around, I’ll lower a rope into the water with a shoe. That means it’s safe.”

“Got it. Bye!” And again, she vanished, leaving Roger standing there, covered in water. While he was soaked, he didn’t feel sick anymore, the conversation helping him get over his last spot of seasickness. With a more settled stomach, he headed to find a place to sleep, not realizing the brilliant friendship he started.

[greenhousethree]

Withered 🪴

April Prompt 25 for @hinnymicrofic. (606 words — sort of micro?)

It’s a housewarming gift for them both, perched on the credenza in their first flat once her rookie contract is up. Neville’s wrapped a bow around the pot, rhapsodizes over its soothing properties: It’s heralded as a rare treasure in the mountains of Ecuador. 

Two spindly stalks, reaching from dark soil like outstretched hands. Colorful, waxy leaves that move as though breathing.

Spring warms to summer amid unpacking, Euro Cup qualifiers blaring from the wireless, family stopping in to share a pint and admire their view from the balcony. The branches dance animatedly among raucous cheers and clinking bottles when England secures third rank. The hum of London presses against the windows. 

She buys a copper watering can. Most days, she remembers to check the soil’s dampness. Fills vases with flowers, burns fewer meals on the stove. Cleans to prepare for Teddy’s first stay, realizes her mistake among sticky handprints and biscuits crushed into the rug.

Ron brings in a Muggle telly amid her peals of laughter. They set it up, and the four watch Notting Hill that night. Later, she leaves the room halfway through Fight Club. The branches shudder.

The leaves tremble with excitement when an owl brings her first full-time contract: three years, better pay. She takes an interview with Quidditch Weekly from their living room while he’s at work.

July brings long days and longer nights, giggling returns from the pubs and a lopsided cake she’s made him. Their party guests file out and then he’s kissing her neck, pressing her against the wall.

The leaves along the street change color. The ones inside are unaffected. It’s quiet most days; he departs before the sun’s fully risen, she rushes off for practice with toast and coffee. A week into preseason, she takes another interview, Witch Weekly this time. He’s away six days. Arrives late, holds her close on the sofa until dawn. 

Late nights, candles burning low on the desk. He brings work home, pores over evidence, accepts mugs of tea. She kisses his forehead, hands find his shoulders. Anxiety undulates from the stem through the branches.

He falls asleep on the sofa. When she wakes him, the curse narrowly misses the plant, singes a hole in the wall.

Time together grows sparse. She travels for matches, he leads his first mission abroad. She loses, he fails. The leaves grow paler, stems yellowing in their absence.

In winter, a week on the sofa with a concussion and the clanging radiator. She grows restless, waters it plenty, buys a bigger pot.

Fireside chats with Luna over glasses of pinot noir, secrets spilled. He’s not sleeping. She’s worried this case is hitting too close. Ron’s thinking of buying a ring.

They forget to put up a tree, and Andromeda chastises them. Next morning he brings one home, wet from sleet, needles everywhere. She sips mulled wine and he lifts Teddy to add the star. Ties a bow around a toy broomstick.

It’s mid-January when they notice. She’s up 3-1 on away matches, he’s back from St. Mungo’s with a case file to close out. Crisp leaves scattered around the pot, withered stems and cracked soil. He suggests they consult Neville. She jokes that she’ll make a terrible mother, and he’s quiet.

Spring brings the chance to have a better year. Playoffs, holidays planned for the summer, an engagement party with the pop of champagne. She makes him dance in the living room one night, a song from Percy’s wedding, pulling him back to the moment, leaving the war behind. 

Outside the window, the tips of branches bud with promises of green.

🌱

[harryjamespotterweek]

HJP Week 2023 - Masterlist Part 1

Harry had a ball with all your wonderful creations! Thanks to everyone who participated. 🥳🥳🥳

This is the masterlist post in which all entries submitted across all platforms will be listed. There are art, fics, podfics and book bindings! If you prefer to view by prompts, check out the roundup post here.

The AO3 collection will stay open till the end of the year for any late submissions. If you want the blog to reblog your work on Tumblr, please tag @harryjamespotterweek and #hjpweek2023. 

This has been a wonderful week! Thanks for joining me in showing some love to our favorite birthday boy! ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist Part 2

Art:

Harry Potter

🎨 Body Worship - @ofnightsndsongs

🎨 Under the Influence - @ofnightsndsongs

---

Harry Potter/Severus Snape

🎨 Worried Part I - @flymetosnarryland

🎨 Worried Part II - @flymetosnarryland

Book Binding:

🪡 The White Road by perverse-idyll - @danpuff-ao3

Fic & Art:

Harry Potter/Severus Snape

❤️ Promises, promises... - acydpop / @acydpop [artist] & SerenaEW / @serenaew [writer] | G | 5k

Healer Harry Potter has been pining after his former-professor-turned-occasional-consultant-colleague Severus for a while now, but he doesn't believe anything will come out of it. Turns out, his children, Jamie, Al and Lily, have a surprise for his birthday — will he like it?

Fic:

Harry Potter & Friends (Gen Fics)

📖 Brunch - Know_It_All_2008 / @kiraannwrites | G | 798

Entry for Harry James Potter Week over on tumblr. Meeting Hermione and Ron for lunch as just routine at this point. That doesn't mean it's not his favorite part of the week.

📖 Fading Balm - Poljupci / @poljupci | T | 1.3k

The War is over and Harry is ready to leave it behind him. In the small bedroom of their even smaller apartment, half-naked, he, Ron and Hermione take the first step.

📖 First Date - emeraldlove / @givereadersahug | G | 348

"A test run, they said," mumbled Harry as he ignored the stares from judgmental strangers. "A date with your godson to see how well we get along. I'm good with children, I swear!" Teddy cried harder.

📖 Make Our Dreams Come True - Coconutice22 / @coconutice22 | G | 595

Eight-year-old Harry and his friends plan a summertime heist.

📖 the real treasure - Poljupci / @poljupci | G | 540

After the War, there is nothing more important than sticking together. Harry and the rest of what is left of the Dumbledore's Army decide to make their commitment to their friendship a little more permanent with a few simple runes, some throwaway magic and a galleon tattooed on their skin rather than carried around in their pockets.

📖 Something Just Like This - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | G | 100

Harry's happy right where he is. A 100-word drabble on friendship and turning down destiny in a coffeeshop AU

📖 Travels - emeraldlove / @givereadersahug | G | 411

The Boy Who Lived didn't live up to the expectations that were set out for him. Instead, he chose his own path, stepping off the yellow-brick road. He hoped to never get back on.

---

Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley

📖 Endlings - Coconutice22 / @coconutice22 | E | 6.2k

Harry was eight when he decided he was in love with Charlie Weasley, the Lion Tamer. He knew he loved him even before he really knew what love was. At 16, Harry meets Charlie again and comes to learn there's so much more to his best friend's brother than he ever guessed.

---

Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass

📖 Daphne's Surprise - SquibNation10 | T

Daphne surprises her overworked husband with a month-long vacation cruise for his birthday. He's ecstatic until he finds out she invited Malfoy along. From rivals to brother-in-laws. Harry's life is just perfect.

---

Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

📖 birthdays, and how harry potter learns to love them. - pansysimp / @pansysimp | G | 347

HJP week ‘23, day 7, prompt: birthday. a tiny fic for the birthday boy. slight mention of child neglect! check me out on tumblr! @ pansysimp

📖 Everything I Ever Wanted - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | G | 325

Twenty years after the best birthday of Harry's life, he celebrates again.

📖 First Dates and Repeated Mistakes - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | T | 1k

Harry James Potter just doesn't have a good track record when it comes to first dates. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be improving.

📖 Flashes of Joy and Agony - AlindaKB / @alindakb | T

Snippets of Harry's life in a universe where his father James didn't die but is still absent.

📖 A Glimmer of Hope - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | T | 1.6k

Once both you and your soulmate come of age, you can see shimmering sparkles, like a heat map, on things they’ve recently touched. A casual inter-house quidditch match between the returning eighth years gets a bit competitive, and Harry discovers that there's a lot more waiting for him on the other side of the war than he expected.

📖 Lick It Up - starlitsilvereyes / @starlitsilvereyes | E | 448

“You’re so good, Harry,” Draco says, hot breath fanning over the perspiration on Harry’s skin. “So good for me.”

📖 Locked Out, Let In - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | T | 2.6k

Harry's locked himself out of his floo, and can't apparate home. Draco has a house full of wet paint, drop cloths, and only one bed. Pansy is a scheming matchmaker.

📖 Love to Hate You - starlitsilvereyes / @starlitsilvereyes | E | 2k

Sex with Potter was always rough. All claws and teeth – a hand wrapped around Draco’s neck, fingernails on Draco’s hips, and Potter’s filthy mouth panting against Draco’s ear.

📖 Magic from the Start - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | T | 2.6k

A weekly brunch, a discussion of the things parents hide under their children's pillows and why, accidental magic, and the discovery that Harry James Potter has been this way since the beginning.

📖 morning after - Poljupci / @poljupci | E | 533

Harry woke up naked in his bed, but not alone. Coming face to face with a naked and barely awake Draco Malfoy was… not as shocking as one might think. Having brunch with him at a trendy, muggle place is a different beast entirely.

📖 My big problem - Spelcray / @waterfalls-moon | M | 249

Harry has a problem, his attempts at a relationship never exceed three dates.

📖 Room 286 - Poljupci / @poljupci | T | 1k

While on an Auror mission in Wales, Harry and Malfoy's hotel room reservation doesn't really turn out as planned. It's more than okay, though, since Malfoy had no intention of using his own bed anyway.

📖 Sometimes, Alcohol is the Answer - jmagnabosco / @jmagnabo92 | E | 3.4k

Five years after the war, Harry needs a drinking buddy and is surprised when his enemy turns into more.

📖 A Walking Heroic History - AliceLiddle / @drarrypotterrenaissance | T | 1.2k

"Besides,” Harry said, “It seems pretty simple to me. You were a git, and I hated you. Now you’re not a git, and I love you. Easy as that.”

📖 You win. - Poljupci / @poljupci | M | 1k

After a day of birthday celebration with all his family and friends, Harry goes back home only to find out Draco has one last surprise for him.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 28: "No... not like this"

@febuwhump prompt: "No... not like this"

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Phee, Tech (mentioned) Set after Season 2, as part of the AU outlined in this post Content Warning (SPOILERS): discussions of pregnancy & abortion Word Count: ~1485 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Hunter and Phee receive some unwelcome news.

“Phee?” The doctor reached out a hand as she entered with her clipboard, which Phee gracefully shook. “I’m pleased to say that there is no malignant cause for your recent stomach trouble.”

“Well that’s a relief,” said Phee with an eye-roll, tossing her bouncy curls and leaning back in the chair.

“So what’s causing the sickness?” Hunter asked roughly, arms folded across his chest. His impatience was clear in the way he loomed behind Phee, glancing at the exit.

“That’s the good news.” The young woman was positively beaming. “Let me be the first to congratulate you. You’re pregnant!”

A moment of silence. Phee remined expressionless. Hunter’s attention whipped to the doctor. Then, “Congratulate?” said Phee slowly, disbelief dripping from each syllable.

And, “Pregnant?” echoed Hunter, a hollow resignation to the way he said the word.

“I’m sorry,” said the doctor in confusion. “Is this… not good news?”

“Hah!” Phee barked a humourless laugh. “You could say that.”

She turned to face Hunter, her expression guarded. “You knew,” she said with quiet accusation.

“No,” Hunter protested, but he looked wretched. “I… suspected.”

“Your super senses tell you that?”

“Yes.” There was no point lying. “I wanted to be sure.”

Phee threw her hands up in the air, spinning the chair back to face the young doctor whose smile had turned brittle with the tension in the room. “Well, this sure is an unsatisfactory situation!” Now it was her turn to fold her arms defensively, fixing the medic with an arch look. “What are my options, doc?”

To her credit, the doctor recovered her composure. “I… I’m sorry if this comes as difficult news for you,” she apologised. “Of course, nobody will force you to continue with the pregnancy if that isn’t right for you. Is… is the father not around?” She shot a glance at Hunter, and it was almost possible to see the mental recalculation as she corrected her assumption that he might be that figure.

“You could say that,” said Phee, whilst Hunter buried his hands in his pockets and concentrated hard on the floor.

“Okay.” The clip-board flipped open as the doctor consulted her notes. “Unfortunately you are past the stage for an early pharmaceutical intervention. It would have been better if you had come in as soon as you missed your period–”

“Hang on,” said Hunter, reluctantly taking an interest. “This is the first time her menstrual cycle has been disrupted.” When Phee glared at him he gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. I… can’t help noticing these things.”

The doctor frowned. “That can’t be right. The abdominal scans show clearly you must be about twelve weeks pregnant.”

Phee’s eyebrows shot up, face scrunching in disbelief. Behind her Hunter let out a relieved gasp.

“So it can’t be Tech’s.”

Phee spun and punched him in the shoulder. “I get that you guys were sheltered,” she admonished, “but I assume you at least know how babies are made. The normal way,” she added sarcastically. “Believe me when I say it can only be his.”

Hunter leaned towards the doctor, one hand resting on the back of Phee's chair. "Can you give us a minute?" he asked, in a way that wasn't really a question.

"Of course," said the young woman, shooting a sympathetic glance at Phee. "Take all the time you need. I'll be right outside." She gathered her papers and left.

Once she was gone Hunter circled the table and took the chair she had vacated. For a moment he dropped his head, bone-weary, then looked back up to meet Phee's uncompromising gaze. For her part the treasure hunter kept her lips pursed in disapproval, waiting for him to speak first.

"You're telling me there was no-one else," he said slowly, testing the words out loud. "No-one before Tech."

"I think I'd know," she retorted, sassiness unaffected by – or perhaps increased because of – the situation. "No, there was no-one else.” She shot him a suspicious look. “How'd you even know about us anyway?"

"I told you,” groaned Hunter, "I can't help noticing these things."

"Geez, he wasn't kidding when he said there's no privacy aboard that ship."

Hunter grimaced. "I try and stay out of their personal lives. I never asked about it."

"Alright, my turn to ask a question, soldier-boy." Phee leaned forwards, resting her forearms on the table. "Tell me how I can be twelve weeks gone when it's only been a month since he and I–"

"Clone genetics," said Hunter quickly, glancing away. "Accelerated growth. Most clones grow at twice the rate of a normal human."

"Most?" said Phee astutely. Hunter squirmed.

"We... Clone Force 99... our ageing is even faster."

Phee settled back, crossing her arms again. "Just how old are you boys?"

"Me and Wrekcer are nine," said Hunter quietly. "Tech is... was... ten." He looked lost. "Echo's a bit older. He's thirteen."

"Geez," said Phee with a ghost of a smile. "I knew I was cradle-snatching but I didn't realise quite how big the age gap was."

Hunter stared at her incredulously. "How can you laugh at a time like this?"

"What am I supposed to do?" she snapped back, eyes flashing dangerously. “Weep elegantly into my ‘kerchief and hope for the best?” She shook her head, sighing. “So you’re tellin’ me this baby’s gonna grow double-time inside me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Seems that way,” said Hunter helplessly. He scrubbed a hand over his face and then sat straight-backed, dropping his hands to his knees. “So what do we do now?”

Phee looked at him sceptically. “We don’t do anything,” she said. “I decide what to do next.”

Hunter frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, decide what to do?” Then, with an uncertain waver, “You’re keeping the baby.”

The words were half-question, half-plea. Phee gave Hunter a long, steady look before shaking her head.

“I don’t know that,” she told him. “I can’t raise a kid by myself! Let alone one that’d grow up twice as fast because of whatever funky deal you specially engineered soldiers have going on.” She waved her hands, a gesture that encompassed Hunter and the rest of the room. Seeing Hunter’s stricken look, she softened a little. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyway?”

“That…” Hunter trailed off, then tried again. “That’s Tech’s kid,” he said quietly, voice raw. “It might be the last part of him we ever have.”

“You know that’s not a good reason to have a baby.”

“But… but Tech…”

“Tech isn’t here,” said Phee firmly, but with sympathy. “Don’t get me wrong. I liked your brother. Liked him a whole lot.” She leaned back in her chair, a sad smile on her face. “Hells, I’d imagined what it would be like if you guys stopped on Pabu,” she said wistfully. “Joined me in the treasure-hunting business. Maybe I thought about the pitter-patter of tiny feet on my ship. Little brown-eyed babies running round.” She stopped, reading the devastation on Hunter’s face. “But not like this.”

“No…” echoed Hunter numbly. “I guess… not like this.”

Silence lingered like a vortex between them, both trapped in their own thoughts. Eventually Phee spoke.

“You understand why I can’t keep the baby.”

“We’d help,” said Hunter immediately, instinctively. Phee looked at him in surprise as he leaned forward in his chair, reaching over the table towards her. “I’d help. You wouldn’t be alone.”

“You’ve got your hands full tryin’ to find Omega,” said Phee. Hunter flinched at the reminder, looking away. “I appreciate the thought, Hunter, but you’re not in a position to make that promise.”

“But… it’s Tech’s kid,” repeated Hunter, dazed and hopeless.

Phee sighed. “Go get the doctor. I’m ready to go home and sleep on it.”

--

They were back at the clinic the following week, watching the little bean wiggle and dance on the ultrasound.

“Well I’ll certainly give credence to the theory that the foetus has inherited the accelerated growth genes from the clone parent,” said the sonographer with surprise. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Hunter stood at the head of the bed beside Phee, gaze riveted on the black-and-white image of his niece or nephew.

Phee turned her face up to him, lips pursed in thought. Then, “Y’know, that Hemlock guy never seemed that trustworthy to me.”

Hunter glanced down at her in confusion.

“What I’m saying is, I wouldn’t take his word at face value,” Phee continued, a tight smile coming onto her face.

Hunter blinked, guarded hope dawning in his eyes. “You mean-”

“I mean you’d better go find out what really happened to your brother.” She looked back at the screen, to the recognisable shape waving tiny arms and legs. Her fingertips crept to the edge of her belly, brushing the skin beside the sonographer’s gel.

“Find out if he’s still alive, and if he is, bring him back to me.”

[lovelynim]

We beat the 400 followers milestone.

So… I wasn’t really expecting to beat it this fast, but… 

WAHHHHH THANK YOU GUYS SO F*CKING MUCH <3 <3 <3 <3

I don’t know what brought you people here, but I’m really grateful for every tag, every like and every message you guys send me. You have no idea how much I enjoy sharing my little stories with you and how much I treasure all this support.

Well, I won’t take much of your time, so let’s jump into what you all came here for!

400 Followers Event - Public’s choice!

I’ve been trying to come up with something to interact with you guys, not just take prompts and write them down. After a little research and consulting with my wise friends (s/o to you guys), I came up with this idea - which, hopefully, won’t be a flop.

So, to work this out, I’ll ask you guys to send me:

A pairing (which includes the reader) of characters from my fandom list

A generic\open prompt, starter or headcanon to theme the story around

I’ll pick the best ideas you guys send me and write (roughly) 500 words, BUT!

At the end of each story, I’ll add a poll with two possible routes and the public (aka you) will decide the turn your story will take.

You may end up deciding who will be the lee and the ler, if the ler should show some mercy or completely obliterate the lee or even if our pairing should kiss or not, who knows? ~

Once the poll is over, I’ll reblog the story with the ending written based on the most voted option!

Fun, isn’t it? (I hope so)

I won’t be settling an ending date because it depends on how well I’ll deal with the prompts, but I’ll make sure to reblog.

Anyway, once again, thank you all for the support and let’s have some fun!

[scotianostra]

On September *21st 1756 John McAdam, the surveyor who introduced the macadam system of road surfacing, was born in Ayr.

Sources will state 23rd September

The youngest of ten children, John was sent to the New World at the age of 14 upon the death of his father. There he teamed up with his affluent uncle William McAdam to run a prosperous mercantile business in the budding harbour town of New York.

As the business’s profits grew so did the reputations of John and William, and in 1772 William was named president of the New York Chamber of Commerce and John was elected Treasurer in 1774 at the age of 18. Mounting tensions between the Colonies and Britain darkened John’s bright future, and his fate was sealed with his marriage to Gloriana Nicoll.

The Nicoll family had been sent by King Charles II in the 1670s to claim the territory of New Netherlands on behalf of his brother, the Duke of York. Neither McAdam nor his bride was willing to betray the Nicoll proud heritage. When the revolution broke out John enlisted in a loyalist regiment and served as a British government contractor. After the defeat of the British Army, those who fought against the Colonies, including John McAdam and his wife, forfeited all property to the new American government. The couple was repatriated in 1783, where they bought a house in Ayrshire, Scotland.

Though McAdam and his wife had lost a fortune, their loyalty to the crown was rewarded and McAdam soon became a prominent public figure. While serving as Deputy-Lieutenant of his county, McAdam noted the horrible road conditions throughout Scotland and England. Most were uneven, dangerous to travel on and costly to repair. In response, McAdam invented a road system that was rivalled only by the road design of Thomas Telford.

Instead of digging out roadways, McAdam raised them to promote water run-off. Digging outflow ditches on each side further enhanced run-off, and the layering of different size stones created the elevated roadbed. Large stones were laid for the base followed by stones no larger than four ounces. McAdam had realized that loose stones would pack tightly under the weight of traffic and provide a stable, even ride

.Avoiding the introduction of clay, dirt, or sand on the road surface further enhanced stability. McAdam roads didn’t wash away, lasted longer, and handled any weight or size of vehicle, thus making contemporary regulations concerning vehicle size and weight irrelevant. Most of all, McAdam roads could be constructed at a fraction of the cost of more established road construction techniques. In 1801 McAdam accepted the post of surveyor to the Bristol Turnpike Trust. By 1818, he was a consulting surveyor for no fewer than 34 road trusts.

The growing demand for his methods prompted McAdam to write two books, The Present System of Road Making and Practical Essay on the Scientific Repair and Preservation of Roads. By 1923, the number of road trusts consulting McAdam had risen to 70, with many of them managed by one of his three sons.

McAdam was appointed Surveyor General of Metropolitan Roads in Great Britain in 1827, and in 1830 the French Government adopted the McAdam system of road construction. Prior to his death McAdam was offered a knighthood, which he declined because of failing health. His oldest son James accepted the honour in his place.

[myth-blossom]

I’ve been reflecting on how incredibly blessed I am for writing and the community it’s brought me into this year. Writing has been an amazing creative outlet for me that I thought had long since burned out, but thank goodness I was wrong about that! I’ve been so excited to develop my ideas, even when they overwhelm my brain at times. It’s been such a joy to write what I want to write, and an additional joy to know there are others out there who enjoy my work, too.

I’m especially grateful for the Hitman fandom on Tumblr—it has been such a pleasure getting to know you and posting about one of our favorite topics. I am constantly blown away by the fanart and fanfics that this talented community creates! It’s a privilege to experience such amazing work by amazing people. I wanted to do some shoutouts below:

@cajunandfire: I am extremely grateful to you for welcoming me into the fandom as you did. You gave me the confidence to socialize with the community and became a dear friend in the process. I can never emphasize enough how thankful I am of your constant support. Your heart is incredibly wonderful, as is the fanfiction you create, and I am very honored to know you.

@diana-fortyseven: Your work inspired me to take a shot at writing for Hitman and sharing my ideas with others—you can imagine how (happily) shocked I was to see you like and comment on my first fic. Your support of this community through your creations, exchanges, fanfiction feed bot, and prompt generator bot help keep the Hitman fandom going—thank you for all that you do.

@dianaburnwood: Before I joined Tumblr, I found a blog post of yours about ICA ranks that inspired me to write Flight of the Sparrow. I was later told that if I ever had Hitman questions, I should speak with the expert—thank you for being kind enough to entertain my questions. I sincerely can’t wait for your blog posts on Freelancer.

@cicaklah: Your Hitman and Oxventure fics are absolute treasures, they inspired me to write whatever I wanted. I found that I wanted to write something as captivating as your works are to me—for a while that was intimidating, but then I pushed past that mental block. You embody the wisdom I adore and hope to always remember in times ahead: “No one is stopping me but me.” Thank you for your passionate example to always try.

@lucas-grey: I appreciate your kindness to answer my Grey questions through the year. He’s a character I’ve grown more attached to since I started writing and it’s been nice to consult the expert to make sure I write him properly. Also, you floor me with the screenshots you post every time—thank you for sharing your lovely work.

@issytheamateurnerd: It means a lot that you’ve trusted me with writing your OC Madeleine Burnwood on occasion. It’s been great to explore her interactions with our beloved characters—I think she is a wonderful addition to the Hitman universe and I look forward to more of your work with her in the future.

To @air-tuna-art @greengoldfish @postalninja and @cajunandfire: thank you for taking a chance to collab with me on The Parisian. As a newbie to the fandom, it was truly an honor to create a story with such a group of wonderful writers. I loved the result and would be happy to work with you again.

@magentasteam, I adore your joke posts and comments on Tumblr (and AO3). I find myself lovingly referring to 47 as my “potato boi” because of you and it makes me smile every time.

@47s-left-tit, it has been such fun discussing music with you this year and reading your 47 x Reader posts. I can’t wait to check out your Spotify playlist for more good tunes.

I’m so grateful for you all, as I am for those who like, comment on, and/or share my stories. I have no idea what 2023 will bring, but I know where I’ve been and I see where I am now.

I’d say things are already off to a good start.

[andromeda-pleiades]

I'm in a writing rut, so here's something non-cod related

Inspo from this post by @writing-prompt-s

In the land of Ebonvale, where the shadows danced with the whispers of the past and the air was thick with the scent of decay, there lived a necromancer named Isabella

Isabella had always been drawn to the secrets of the dead. From a young age, she had felt their presence lingering in the corners of her mind, whispering clues and hints of long-forgotten truths. Unlike most wizards who shunned the path of necromancy, Isabella embraced it, combining her arcane powers with her smarts to unravel the mysteries that plagued her city.

It was said that "Two can only keep a secret if one of them is dead," but Isabella knew better. For in the realm of the dead, secrets were currency, and the dead were more than willing to share their tales with any who would listen.

One night, as the moon glowed orange in the sky and the stars twinkled like distant memories, Isabelle doned her ancestral attire and ventured into the cemetery on the outskirts of Ebonvale. The air was thick with the stench of rot and decay, but Isabella paid it no mind as she began her ritual.

With whispered incantations and intricate gestures, she called forth the spirits of the departed, their skeletons all that remain. They gathered around her, their eyes hollow and vacant, but their voices filled with the echoes of ages past.

"Tell me your secrets," Isabella commanded, her voice ringing out with authority.

And so, the dead began to speak. They told tales of love and betrayal, of wars fought and kingdoms lost. They whispered of hidden treasures and long-forgotten relics, their voices weaving a tapestry of secrets that stretched across the ages.

But amidst the tales of glory and despair, Isabella sensed something darker lurking in the shadows. A secret so profound, it threatened to unravel the very fabric of reality itself.

As the night wore on, Isabella listened intently, her mind racing with the possibilities of what she had discovered. In the whispers of the dead, she had unearthed a truth more powerful than any spell or incantation.

In the days that followed, Isabella used her skills as a detective to delve deeper into the mysteries of the dead. She consulted with witnesses and studied crime scenes, piecing together the fragments of a puzzle that had long been forgotten.

But the deeper she delved, the more dangerous her quest became. For there were those who would stop at nothing to keep the secrets of the dead buried forever, and Isabella soon found herself hunted by forces beyond her comprehension.

Yet still, she pressed on, driven by a determination that bordered on obsession. In the secrets of the dead, she had found something far more precious than power or wealth.

She had found the truth. And nothing in this world or the next could ever take that away from her.

[dragonsarecool]

Whumptober Day 6 - Ransom Video

Six: Ransom Video

A/N: I've tweaked this prompt to include ransom calls, given that videos wouldn't have existed in Tintin's day. This is also my longest one shot for this series!

Set after 'Land of Black Gold'.

He had been gone for a while. It was well after seven in the evening, and the golden beams of sunlight had almost faded completely through the gaps in the dining room curtains.

But when Tintin had said he was popping into the office to finish up his articles about Müller, he'd promised the Captain he wouldn't be long.

How he wished the boy would stop saying those words. It never led to anything good.

Haddock glanced at his watch, leaning over the table in despair. He grasped the glass of whiskey on the table in front and took a long swig, pushing away the remains of his dinner. It had grown cold since it was first served over an hour prior, but Haddock had continued to nibble as he waited. Eventually, he'd given up on Tintin returning at an acceptable hour, and had relieved Nestor of his duties for the evening, deciding instead to polish off some whiskey in his anxious wait for the young man.

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, his fingertips dancing over the imperfections in the blackwood surface. I should've insisted he mail those articles over…

The sharp sound of the telephone nearly sent him through the roof. He threw himself out of his chair and made a beeline for the phone, his hand violently snatching the receiver. "Tintin, where on Earth are you?! It's nearly eight o'clock, lad!"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," A lightweight female voice rang out through the receiver; Haddock instantly realised it belonged to an older lady. "I thought I had the correct number for the butcher-"

Haddock cut off the mystery caller with an audible sigh. "No, ma'am, this is not the butcher. His number is four, two, one. This number is four, three, one."

The sound of a scratching pencil appeared. "Oh yes, I see my mistake. Must get my spectacles adjusted again. Thank you for your help, young man!"

"My pleasure, ma'am." Haddock spoke bluntly as he slammed the receiver down. "Honestly, why can't people consult their phone books more carefully…"

Almost as soon as he'd returned to his seat, the phone rang again. "THUNDERING TYPHOONS!" Haddock stormed over and yanked the receiver so hard he almost pulled it off of the table. "Ma'am, I swear, if you're calling about the number for Cutts the butcher again, I'll-"

"Captain Haddock!" The grating, coarse tones of a male voice interrupted the Captain. "What an…unusual greeting you provide."

"Who are you?! How'd you get this number?" Haddock snapped. "If this is another prank call-"

"I assure you, Captain, I would not ring for a simple joke," The voice gave a small chuckle. "Though I am ringing to ask for something from you."

Haddock scratched his beard in frustration. "Thundering typhoons, I am NOT the butcher, and I am NOT giving you his number! Honestly, I should hang up-"

"I would advise against it, Captain," A scuffle of some sort was occurring in the background. with a loud grunt suddenly filling the line. "Bozhe moy, get him under control!"

Haddock furrowed his brow as cold dread quickly began to set over him. Don't tell me that 'him' is referring to Tintin…

"…My apologies for the interruption, Captain," The man sounded winded. "Though it does provide a good opportunity-"

"Blistering barnacles, cut the crap and get to it before I hang up!" Haddock growled. "What are you talking about?"

If the man was put off by Haddock's remark, he did not acknowledge it. "I'm looking to acquire a collection of particular items currently in your possession, as they are part of a remarkable history…After all, you are one of those men who discovered Red Rackham's treasure, aren't you?"

The Captain felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "And how do you know anything about that, exactly?"

"You forget, Captain, it was all over the newspapers! I had happened to be in Brussels at the time; how very fortunate for me, for it meant I could eye the newest addition to my collection," The man spoke smugly. "But, I know you would never give it up willingly, so I decided you would require some…motivation."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Haddock would have rolled his eyes. "I know exactly who you're talking about, you pathetic little ectoplasm, and you better not have hurt him!"

Mumbled shouts came through the receiver, as did some Russian-sounding curses that Haddock couldn't understand. What he did understand, however, was the bone-chilling sound of blunt force trauma, for the mumbles quickly turned into mumbled shouts.

"We picked him up on his way into Brussells this afternoon. Would've been, what, one o'clock?" The man sneered. "Him and his dog are very easy to spot amongst a crowd, and yet no one saw us."

If his blood had been frozen solid moments ago, Haddock could've sworn it was now physically boiling. The fact that Tintin had never made it into his office made it all the worse. "BIllions of blue blistering barnacles, you better not have hurt a single micrometer on either of their heads!"

"Relax, my dear Captain," The man spoke calmly. "They are both being well cared for-"

"Well it sure doesn't sound like it!" Haddock gripped the receiver even tighter. "If he's got even a singular SCRATCH on his skin-"

"…Perhaps confirmation of his wellbeing will satisfy you?"

Haddock stumbled; this was an unusual move for kidnappers. "Yes, but-"

"Very well, Captain," The man appeared to be stumbling around, his voice fading slightly as he called to his assistants. "Bring him over."

Haddock felt himself grow cold at the sound of a handgun being clicked, though it was quickly replaced by low, mumbled groans. "…Tintin?"

"…Gmmhmnn! Hmmph!"

The Captain felt his heart sink as he listened to Tintin's muffled cries. Those earthworms won't even let him speak. "Tintin, lad, are you alright?"

"Mmhmm!"

Haddock decided to interpret this as a positive sign, though he knew from experience that Tintin could have an arm hanging off and still admit nothing.

"Alright, that's enough," A British voice appeared. The sounds of a scuffle emerged as Tintin's mumbles disappeared into the background.

"No, no, no! Let him to talk to me!" Haddock cried. "I need to know he's alright!"

"But you have heard he is alive, yes?" The first man answered. "And that is more than enough proof I would usually give."

"Thundering typhoons, how the hell is he supposed to tell me he's alright when he's gagged?!" Haddock roared, his face burning with anger. "You iconoclasts! Bashibazooks!"

"Really, Captain, there's no need for such language," The Russian man spoke slyly. "Here are my terms. You bring the entirety of Red Rackham's treasure, in a leather suitcase, to pier number fourteen at the docks tomorrow night at ten. You do not bring any police or assistance with you, or else Tintin is sent to join Red Rackham himself. Have I made myself clear?"

"Blistering barnacles, you expect me to-"

"I'm glad we understand each other. I shall see you tomorrow."

With a click, the line went dead, and Haddock flew into a rage. He blindly struck the wall in his anger, letting out a long collection of curses as he nursed the throbbing pain in his hand.

"Sir?" Nestor's voice floated from the kitchen. "Are you alright in there, sir?"

Haddock growled as he massaged his knuckles. "Tintin's been kidnapped, Nestor! So no, I'm not alright! I don't…" His voice faltered as Nestor entered the dining room, still clutching his faithful feather duster. "I…I don't know what to do."

Nestor made his way over to his master, a soft expression on his face. "Is Master Tintin alright, sir?"

The Captain shook his head. "They wouldn't let him talk to me…I think they were beating him, Nestor," He rubbed his eyes, partially in frustration, and partially to prevent them from leaking any tears. "They've said no police-"

"Well you can't listen to that, sir," Nestor interrupted. "N-Not that I meant any offence by that, but-"

"No, no, I understand you, Nestor," Haddock answered quietly. "…Normally, I would ring the Thompsons in a heartbeat, but-"

"I feel we will require the 'big guns' for this one, sir," Nestor emphasised with air quotes. "I'll dial for them right away, sir."

"…Thank you, Nestor." Returning to grab the remainders of his whiskey, the Captain began to make his way to the living room, knowing that the police would be wanting to speak with him as soon as possible.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually when Tintin was kidnapped, he got roughed up a little, sometimes with a bruise or two, but he'd always found a way to escape. Often Tintin didn't share the fact that he'd been abducted that day until they sat down for dinner; it always made him wonder how the young man wasn't frightened to step outside his bedroom.

The fact that he was still a prisoner was concerning to the Captain. Either he was stalling for time, or these kidnappers were serious professionals.

"Blistering barnacles, how did he get himself kidnapped in four hours?" Haddock buried his head in his hands, furiously massaging his brow. "I'd almost say it was a talent…"

******

The frigid air of the docks stung the exposed skin on his face, sending a shiver down Haddock's spine. The hair in his beard bristled as he stood impatiently, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. Why they said to come here at such an unholy hour, I'll never know…

He gazed down at the briefcase resting in between his legs, filled with a collection of costume jewellery provided by the inspectors. It weighed roughly the same amount as the real treasure, and had even been wrapped in velvet similar to the kind that currently enveloped the true treasure. He just prayed the kidnappers would take too long to authenticate them before help arrived.

Haddock fought the urge to look at his surroundings, where he knew there were at least ten undercover officers hiding in various barrels and boxes all around the docks, ready to strike when Haddock was completing the exchange. In a way, the heavy mist that currently blanketed the air served as a bonus; the inspectors had told him that the kidnappers would be far less likely to spot their ambush until it was too late.

Haddock wished he could believe them.

A disturbance in the mist caught the Captain's eye. He watched as a tall, black-coated figure emerged, pulling his hat further over his face. The figure lifted a black-gloved finger and motioned to Haddock to come forward, which the latter reluctantly did. He clutched the handle of the briefcase with such strength as to turn his knuckles white.

Haddock's eyes narrowed as he approached the man. Although the hat did hide most of his features, he was still able to see the figure's mouth in-between puffs of his cigar. He stopped a few metres away from the kidnapper, refusing to let go of the suitcase.

The man blew a puff of his cigar. "You have the merchandise?"

Haddock recognised the Russian accent from their conversation the night before. He motioned to the suitcase. "I've got what you want, you barbaric pirates! Now let me see him!"

The kidnapper laughed. "I am in charge here. You give me the case, I give you Tintin."

"Blistering barnacles, at least show me he's alive!" The Captain shouted, remembering that the inspectors had instructed him to seek proof of Tintin's wellbeing prior to any exchange. A sudden burst of courage flooded his chest as he held the briefcase up. "Otherwise, the deal is off!"

It was a nail-bitingly long moment before the kidnapper sighed. He removed the glove from one hand and popped his fingers into his mouth, letting out a low whistle. Within seconds three men appeared from the mist, dragging a bound figure with ropes around their chest and a pillowcase over their head. They appeared to be wearing Tintin's signature blue sweater and brown slacks, but Haddock wanted definitive proof before the police moved in.

"You see? He is alive," The first kidnapper snapped, taking another whiff of his cigar. "Now give me the briefcase, and we can get on our with business."

"That could be anyone under there, you iconoclasts!" The Captain hoped the anger he was expressing was enough to hide the fact he was shaking.

With an audible sigh, the first kidnapper stomped over to the bound figure and yanked the pillowcase away. "There! Satisfied?"

Haddock almost cried with relief. "Tintin!"

The eyes of the younger man lit up with recognition, even if one of them was now heavily bruised. Apart from a black eye and some small cuts on the bridge of his nose, Tintin looked relatively unharmed. Haddock was relieved to see the young man was still fighting, squirming violently against the grip of his captors; the fact that it was taking three men to hold him back was incredible. Even through the thick medical tape wrapped around his mouth, he could still make out Tintin's mumbled pleas. The young man kept shaking his head frantically, though the message was lost in translation to Haddock. Something must be up-

"I grow tired of waiting!" The first kidnapper withdrew a pocket knife from the interior of his overcoat, the blade twinkling in the limited light. "Now hand it over!"

Haddock had opened his mouth to tell the scum-sucking earthworms what they could go and do with themselves when chaos seemed to unfold. Every policeman appeared from their hiding places - some jumped out of crates, others from rubbish bins - and directed their firearms towards the kidnappers, demanding they surrender.

The first kidnapper had moved the blade to Tintin's throat when an agonising scream tore from his throat, dropping his weapon to clutch at the new bullet hole in his thigh. He was quickly picked off the ground by two policemen, who roughly shoved up against a nearby crate to secure his handcuffs.

Having seen the game was up, the three remaining kidnappers shoved Tintin to the ground and allowed themselves to be led away handcuff-free, albeit with many handguns pointed at their backs. Haddock pushed aside a few lingering policemen and dropped to Tintin's side, heaving the young man into a seated position. "Lad, you with me?"

Tintin blinked for a few moments before nodding. Whether it was a trick of the light or his eyes were actually glistening with tears, Haddock couldn't tell, but he found himself crying as he enveloped the young man into a crushing hug. "Blistering barnacles, Tintin, thank heavens you're okay-"

"Gmmnmm!" Tintin struggled desperately in the Captain's grip.

Startled by the young man's outburst, Haddock released Tintin and began blushing red with embarrassment, his hand floating around the tape. "Oh…yes. Sorry. Forgot about…that." He felt along the tape for an edge and swiftly peeled it away, eliciting a hoarse scream from Tintin once his mouth was free.

"Sorry, lad. There was no nice way of goin' about it," Haddock threw the tape away and resumed embracing Tintin. A sudden damp sensation on his shoulder told him Tintin was crying, and he gently shushed the boy. "It's okay, lad, everything's fine now-"

"…Captain.." Tintin's voice was barely audible. He began to shake as his chest hitched with his sobs "…Merci, merci beaucoup, Captaine…"

"It's alright, lad," Haddock held the young man tight. "You're alright."

A policeman had managed to sneak around Haddock and was quickly cutting away the remainders of Tintin's restraints, allowing the younger man to fling his arms around his friend as soon as they were free.

Haddock was surprised at Tintin's reaction. Must have been a serious kidnapping for him to be this emotional. "You're alright, Tintin. It's alright."

As they sat there on that cold pier, surrounded by police, he could only hope it would be.

A/N: Translations:

(Russian) Bozhe moy = Oh my God

Merci beaucoup = thank you very much

[veryrealimagination]

What Could Go Wrong?

Day No: 12

Prompt: Cave In

Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries

Medium: Fic

Trigger warnings: none

SFW

The hole that had been forcibly opened up by persons unknown was a treasure trove for Pendrick and Murdoch. Watts refused to come with them in exploring, instead focused on a new project for the local school. Re-certifying himself to be a builder, he had been taking on small projects to keep himself occupied and draw in a small amount of money. He didn’t need much, just enough for a meal at the Round Table here and there.

Here and there being every single day.

Brackenreid sent them with Torva, third generation Corp that watched them and the surroundings carefully as they tested and searched everything they could get their hands on. The two of them had found quite a few chips, circuits, other gadgetry that they were still working on figuring out. Even a full thing called a computer. Murdoch managed to secure it in his pack, thanking himself for only packing some bread and basic tools that could be hung from his belt. James had more things, including two first  aid kits that Llewellyn had ‘sneaked’ in when he was gathering a few spare ropes.

Torva quirked xir’s head at something. “We should leave,” they said.

“Why?” Murdoch asked, looking over a book. It was a mystery novel. There were a few more on the shelf and he wanted to bring them along as well. Maybe I’ll come back with a bag to safely secure them in. They are quite old. Protecting them should be thorough.

“I hear something in the distance of the system,” xe informed, “And it’s not natural.”

Pendrick glanced up from the cabinet he was working on. “Human?”

They shook their head. “Definitely not. It’s probably Old World Security, same as the bot in Nora’s Mine.” That wasn’t good. The history of the Sandrock tunnel was a chilling reminder about how some of the Old World wasn’t just old toys and statues. It could kill, and people were willing to kill for it. The two looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They would have to come back with weaponry and reinforcements if they wanted to continue.

Moving back to the hallway that connected to the hole from the Abandoned Ruins and the freestanding elevator that they constructed, the sounds got louder and louder. “I think we should run,” Murdoch muttered, already trying to shift himself into going faster.

“That might attract it,” Pendrick warned.

A few more steps and Torva was shining xir’s light at something. “I don’t think that really matters.”

Seven to eight foot tall, it was a bot that put the one that William saw in Atara to shame. Gleaming orange and green pained along its body, it was a mockery of the human body with thin arms and legs, but an oversized chest and tiny head. The head had a glimmer that made him think there was a system held within to allow it to see and hear. The rest must have been in the body. Getting into that would be a huge scientific redevelopment.

“State your purpose,” the bot said.

That was not something they expected. Most of the bots that had been encountered earlier were nothing more than attackers. None of those ones talked, either. Only Ack and Ally back in the town, but Ack was a cook and Ally was a special case. “Exploration?” Pendrick tried.

Ten seconds went by. “Exploration does not require the theft of computers.” It apparently figured out what was on William’s back.

“We can’t turn them on here,” Murdoch explained, “There’s no power source active here. There hasn’t been for close to three hundred to four hundred years. We have to take it back to our work to figure out a way to power it.”

The bot processed this as well. “I cannot allow that. There is sensitive material on the computer. Please hand it over.”

Pendrick and Murdoch glanced at each other. There was something on the computer that could be useful in figuring out more of the history surrounding the city and the Old World. They didn’t want to give it up. Torva walked forward. “Portia Civil Corp. These men are consultants for the current law enforcement agency,” xe said, bringing the bots attention. “We need to see what’s on here, for information on a long ago event.

That caught the bot. “Law enforcement.” It almost seemed to be working on allowing the three to leave, but it instead attacked Torva instead. Both of the builders were thrown aside.

“William, please tell me you bought-”

“No gun! Brought the staff!”

Struggling to get the pack off his back, he placed it along the wall before pulling out a steel rod. Twisting it, the thing elongated into a bo staff that was a few inches taller than himself. Pendrick had placed down his things and pulled out a sword.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing that we didn’t persuade Llewellyn to come out with us,” Pendrick quipped, aiming for the bot’s legs. Murdoch used the sharper edge of his staff to try and get into the cranium on top, figuring on wrecking the camera to make it blind.

Torva went for the chest, a set of chromium and steel daggers working on cutting through the ventilation covers that he saw along the side. Something cracked when Murdoch hit the dome, but he didn’t get another chance to break it. The bot wrapped around both of them. He and James were thrown in opposite directions deeper into the ruin. The bot then extended its arms up and latched onto wood and steel before forcibly bringing everything down.

The dust and dirt flying into their faces made it hard to breathe for a few minutes. The two coughed for minutes until the air didn’t bother their lungs. “Murdoch!” Pendrick yelled.

“I’m alive,” he called back, “Nothing broke.”

“Good,” he said, “Julia would have killed me if you went back with another broken bone.” Forcing himself up, he looked and saw that the main way of getting back to the outside was blocked. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Nor I.” Murdoch had struggled up as well and grabbed his pack again, holding it when trying to put it on pained him. He knew that his pack was mostly the computer, along with some small things. “We may be stuck for a while. I don’t have anything to get through this.”

Pendrick lamented that he didn’t bring his pickhammer from a Sandrock build. “Neither do I.” He looked at the other man. “If Torva stops the bot, xe can get the last builder in Portia that might be able to get us out.” Looking over the man, he saw that there was a dangerous gash along his back. Bless Llewellyn for being smart about the kits. “Hold still.”

William didn’t know why until something flared along his back. Cleaning alcohol. “Ahh,” he hissed. “James?”

“A nice, large gash, likely from some broken metal. You’re lucky Llewellyn thinks he’s sneaky. Put two aid kits into my pack before we went.” He held still while the wound was cleaned, treated, and covered expertly by the other man. Rumbling from the other side of the rubble caused more stuff to rain down on their head. “I think it may be apt to continue inward. You did say there were air currents. Perhaps another exit?” Murdoch nodded and followed the other man.

[prju77]

Produce!

Dearly beloved, the power within you is to produce and multiply; and multiplication begins with your thoughts, good or bad. Whatever you set your mind to and speak in faith will come to pass.

Every thought is like a seed that has the potential to produce much when brought into manifestation by the spoken word. For I will back your words with my power and enable their growth. However, be mindful of where these seeds come from and where you sow them, so examine your thoughts. Did they come from me?

My seeds come with a guarantee to produce good fruit, and it’s up to you to care for and nurture the seeds that you have planted. They need ‘light’, ‘water’, and ‘good soil’ – the soil is your heart, and its condition is important to the development of the seeds and what they produce.

Allow me to nurture the garden of your heart so that you will always produce good fruit. Allow me to remove that which is diseased and dying from your garden so that the seeds that you plant are those that will be allowed to grow to full maturity and bear much fruit.

Activation: God wants our lives to be fruitful and that we always sow seeds that will produce good fruit in our lives and the lives of others.

• Examine the condition of your heart – Thoughts originate from the heart so it’s important to consult the Lord about the state of your heart. Allow Him to identify the areas that need healing. As He does this, submit to His instructions and His power as He brings renewal and healing to your heart.

• Ask God if you need to forgive anyone – Ask Him to bring to your remembrance anyone in your life who you need to forgive who may have spoken negative words to you either intentionally or unintentionally.

• Blessing others – Ask the Lord who you can bless with His word. Let God highlight to you anyone who you can speak words of blessing into their lives. Ask the Lord to guide your words, so that they will be directed by His loving kindness and His truth.

• Daily declarations – Take a moment each day to declare the ‘truth’ and prophecy ‘life’, as the Lord prompts you so that you will produce much goodness.

Galatians 6:7-8 (MSG) "Don’t be misled: No one makes a fool of God. What a person plants, he will harvest. The person who plants selfishness, ignoring the needs of others—ignoring God! —harvests a crop of weeds. All he’ll have to show for his life is weeds! But the one who plants in response to God, letting God’s Spirit do the growth work in him, harvests a crop of real life, eternal life!"

Luke 6:45 (BSB) "The good man brings good things out of the good treasure of his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil treasure of his heart. For out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks!"

Isaiah 55:11 (NIV) "So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it!"

[inventoryvaluation]

How Statistics Homework Helper Transformed My Academic Journey

As a student majoring in statistics, I often found myself overwhelmed by the intricacies of the subject. Balancing multiple assignments, projects, and exams left me stressed and unsure of my understanding. That’s when I discovered Statistics Homework Helper, a service that not only provided assistance but also boosted my confidence in the subject. I want to share my experience and how this service has been a game-changer for me.

Struggling with Statistics Assignments

Statistics has always fascinated me, but the practical application of concepts can be challenging. I remember one particular instance where I was struggling with an assignment on SPSS. The complexity of the software and the detailed analysis required left me feeling defeated. I spent hours trying to figure out the right approach, but the more I tried, the more confused I became.

Discovering Statistics Homework Helper

In my quest for help, I came across Statistics Homework Helper. After reading several positive reviews, I decided to give it a try. From the moment I reached out to them, I was impressed by their prompt and professional response. They immediately connected me with an expert who specialized in SPSS.

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One of the most significant benefits I received was the help with SPSS homework. The expert guided me through the entire process, from data entry to analysis and interpretation of results. Their detailed explanations helped me understand how to use the software effectively, which boosted my confidence in handling future assignments.

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What sets Statistics Homework Helper apart is their commitment to continuous learning and improvement. They don’t just provide a solution; they ensure that you understand the process. This approach has helped me develop critical thinking skills and a systematic approach to problem-solving.

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The experts at Statistics Homework Helper are a treasure trove of knowledge. Their expertise spans various statistical tools and techniques, which has broadened my understanding of the subject. Whenever I had doubts or questions, they were always available to provide clarification and guidance.

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Another aspect I appreciated was the personalized feedback. After each assignment, the expert provided detailed feedback on my performance and areas for improvement. They also suggested additional readings and resources to further enhance my understanding.

Overcoming Academic Challenges

With the support of Statistics Homework Helper, I was able to overcome several academic challenges. From understanding complex theories to mastering statistical software, the guidance I received was invaluable. This support has been instrumental in my academic success and has prepared me for future endeavors.

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Perhaps the most significant change has been my attitude towards learning. With the support of Statistics Homework Helper, I developed a positive attitude towards statistics and learning in general. I started seeing challenges as opportunities to learn and grow, which has made a huge difference in my academic journey.

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[childcustodylawyersinmediapa]

An Overview Of Best Custody Lawyer

Finding the best lawyer for you can be challenging, but the internet is a treasure trove of resources that can help simplify the procedure. When looking for family law lawyers, it is crucial to begin with a clear knowledge of what you require. Are you looking for divorce lawyers or maybe a custody lawyer? These questions will assist you in narrowing your search. Start by using search engines and legal directories that often offer extensive lists of divorce lawyers. These sites offer reviews and ratings that will help you find the top divorce lawyers. In addition, social media and forums can offer personal advice and insight into the reputation of lawyers. If you've identified a few potential candidates, it's essential to conduct a thorough background check. Look for top divorce lawyers with a proven track record dealing with situations similar to those you're facing. Visit their websites to understand their expertise areas and read reviews from past clients. Take note of divorce lawyer reviews to determine their success rate and client satisfaction. Many divorce lawyer in services offer initial consultations, which provide a great opportunity for you to inquire about their services and determine whether they're a good suit for your requirements.

Cost is a major aspect when you are hiring an attorney for your family. Legal fees can vary widely, so it's important to talk about this in advance. Some divorce attorneys have a flat rate, and others charge hourly. Be sure to know the services included in the cost and ask for any additional fees that might arise. A clear and transparent communication regarding costs will avoid any unpleasant surprises down the line. Keep in mind that the aim is to find the best divorce lawyers that provide value for money without compromising on their quality service. Another crucial aspect to think about is the lawyer's knowledge and expertise. When it comes to sensitive issues such as custody of children, it is essential to have a child custody lawyer on your side with years of experience in this area. Specialized custody lawyers understand the intricacies of custody cases and are able to manage the complex issues of the process. They are better prepared to represent your rights and will ensure the most favorable outcome for you along with your child.

A skilled divorce attorney with a particular focus on custody cases can provide the necessary expertise and support to navigate this difficult period. Communication is the key to any lawyer-client relationship. The most effective divorce lawyers are those with transparent and clear lines of communication. Make sure that your lawyer is responsive and willing to keep you informed of the progress of your case. Regular updates and prompt responses to questions will help alleviate stress and help build trust. An experienced divorce attorney will be sure to clarify legal jargon and procedures, making sure you are aware of the options available and the consequences of every decision. In the end, finding the right lawyer online requires careful consideration and diligence. Begin by defining your requirements and using online resources to identify potential candidates. Conduct thorough background checks, and look at factors such as cost, experience, as well as the area of expertise. Ensure that the divorce lawyer you select has great communication skills and a proven track of record. With these suggestions you will be able to locate the most effective lawyer for divorce and custody attorneys in your area, ensuring that you have the support and experience required to handle your legal issues effectively.

[anjali12]

Capturing Childhood Magic: Beautiful Portraits by a Professional Child Photographer in NYC

Every parent knows how quickly childhood flies by. One minute, your little one is a giggling newborn, and the next, they're off to kindergarten, brimming with personality and boundless energy. As a Professional Child photographer in NYC, I have the privilege of capturing these precious moments in time, creating beautiful portraits that tell the unique story of each child.

NYC: A Backdrop for Memories

New York City is a vibrant playground, and what better place to capture the spirit of your child than amidst its iconic landmarks and hidden gems? Whether it's a playful photo shoot in Central Park, a candid portrait with the Brooklyn Bridge as a backdrop, or a whimsical session in a charming brownstone stoop, the city itself becomes a character in your child's story. As a professional child photographer in NYC, I'm familiar with the city's diverse locations and know how to leverage their unique charm to create stunning portraits.

Beyond the Studio: Capturing Real Moments

While studio photography offers a controlled environment, I believe the true magic of childhood photography lies in capturing genuine moments. This is why I often prefer on-location shoots. As a professional child photographer in NYC, I love capturing the joy of a child splashing in a fountain, the wonder in their eyes as they explore a new neighborhood, or the warmth of a family hug against a bustling city street.

Creating a Fun and Relaxed Atmosphere

Working with children requires patience, creativity, and a playful spirit. My goal is to create a fun and relaxed atmosphere where your child feels comfortable and can express themselves freely. As a professional child photographer in NYC with years of experience, I've developed a range of techniques to engage children and bring out their natural smiles. From silly games and playful prompts to incorporating their favorite toys or activities, I ensure the session is an enjoyable experience for everyone involved.

More Than Just a Snapshot: Capturing Personalities

The best child portraits go beyond a simple snapshot. They capture the essence of your child – their infectious laughter, their mischievous twinkle, or their quiet contemplation. As a professional child photographer in NYC, I strive to create portraits that reflect your child's unique personality and spirit. Through careful observation and gentle interaction, I aim to capture those fleeting moments and expressions that truly define them.

Collaboration for the Perfect Portrait

As a professional child photographer in NYC, I believe collaboration is key. Before any photo shoot, I discuss your vision and preferences with you. Do you have a specific location in mind? Are there any props or outfits you'd like to include? The more information you share, the better I can tailor the session to capture the essence of your child and your family.

Memories that Last a Lifetime

Investing in professional child photography is an investment in memories. These beautiful portraits will become treasured keepsakes for you and your family to cherish for years to come. Looking back at these photographs, you'll relive the joy of your child's laughter, the wonder in their eyes as they explore the world, and the deep love you share.

Ready to Capture Your Child's Story?

If you're looking for a professional Child photographer in NYC, I'd love to chat with you! Contact Darcey Stone Photography today to schedule a consultation and discuss how we can create beautiful portraits that capture the magic of your child's personality.

Let's work together to freeze these precious moments in time, creating stunning portraits that tell the unique story of your child in the heart of New York City.

[emedhealthtech]

The phrase ‘Data is the new oil’ is a reality of present times. Every modern industry is heavily dependent on data, and therefore, guarding this critical resource has become extremely crucial. 

While data security is necessary for every industry, it is more so for industries such as healthcare and telemedicine that handle sensitive information. 

In this blog, we’ll discuss the importance of data security in telemedicine and how healthcare providers can follow the best industry practices when engaging in telemedicine app development.

What is Data Security in the Context of Telemedicine?

We know it’s necessary to have strict measures in place at the time of telehealth app development. Here’s why.

Data security in telemedicine is the digital extension of patient-doctor confidentiality. Any compromise in this information can have serious consequences. Critical patient information can be misused to carry out scams or identity theft. It could not only prompt those affected to take legal action but it also weakens the foundation of trust that a healthcare business would have taken years to build.

Why the Healthcare Industry Cannot Afford to Skimp on Data Security

For a long time, the healthcare industry has been prone to data security breaches and it has been a costly affair. According to an article published in the HIPAA Journal in 2023, IBM identified this industry as the darling of cybercriminals for the 13th year running (measured from April 2022 to March 2023) with the average cost of a breach gaining +8.22% YoY to $10.9Mn and a staggering +53.3% over the three year average.  

The significant cost impact of a healthcare security breach can be further gauged from Statista which puts the financial sector at a distant second averaging only $5.9Mn per breach over the same period. All of this, despite Western governments mandating companies to comply with legal frameworks such as HIPAA in the USA and GDPR in the European Union to ensure watertight data handling mechanisms.

As telemedicine gained immense popularity during the recent COVID pandemic thanks to its remote consultation capabilities and with all the data being collected by the service providers for their records, the healthcare industry represented something of a treasure trove for hackers. Little wonder then that some of the biggest healthcare data breaches ever recorded were all in 2022. Prominent names such as Shields Health Care Group, Broward Health, Morley Companies, ARcare, and OneTouchPoint all feature on the list with data of a few million patients compromised. 

Telemedicine App Development Strategies for Protecting Patient Data

When planning for telemedicine software, you need to ask the developer team to implement measures for effective patient data protection. In addition to that, here are certain best practices you can consider for your telehealth services app.

Using secure communication protocols

Using strong, uncommon passwords

Data encryption across devices, at all times

Data encryption across devices, at all times

Implementing measures to prevent data loss

Regular audits

Software updates

VPN usage

Providing secure teleconference space

Providing secure teleconference space

Use of the latest technology

Taking a queue from industry best practices

Providing employee training

Planning for contingencies

Scale Up Your Healthcare Business with Secure Telemedicine App Development

Are you looking for a telemedicine app development solution? At EMed HealthTech, we have been developing apps tailored to the unique needs of every stakeholder in the telemedicine business for 7+ years. Our secure, high-quality telemedicine app development platform assures increased patient satisfaction, in turn helping to boost revenues. With a team of highly qualified and experienced professionals, we have served over 500 clients across more than 34 countries.

Get in touch with our experts today to know more about how our development team can provide a foolproof, failsafe telemedicine app for your healthcare business.