#Grow Racks With Light In China

[ssgarden]

Cultivate Success: Maximizing Plant Growth with Grow Racks and Lights

　　Growing healthy and thriving plants requires more than just soil and sunlight. For many gardeners, especially those dealing with limited space or challenging climates, grow racks with lights have become essential tools to create optimal growing conditions. In this guide, we'll explore how to maximize plant growth using grow racks with lights, their benefits, considerations for choosing the right equipment, and tips for successful cultivation.

　　1. The Role of grow racks with lights:

　　Grow racks, also known as plant racks or grow shelves, are structures designed to provide an organized and controlled environment for growing plants indoors. These racks often incorporate grow lights, which are specialized lighting systems designed to mimic the spectrum of natural sunlight required for photosynthesis. The combination of grow racks with lights allows gardeners to create ideal conditions for plant growth, making it possible to cultivate a wide variety of plants year-round.

　　2. Benefits of Using grow racks with lights:

　　Year-Round Cultivation: With grow racks with lights, you can extend your growing season beyond the limits of outdoor conditions. This means you can grow plants throughout the year, regardless of the external climate.

　　Optimal Light Conditions: Grow lights provide plants with consistent and adjustable light levels, ensuring that they receive the right spectrum and intensity of light for photosynthesis. This results in healthier, faster-growing plants.

　　Space Efficiency: Grow racks are designed to maximize vertical space, making them an excellent choice for gardeners with limited room. You can grow a substantial number of plants in a relatively small area.

　　Protection and Control: Grow racks provide a controlled environment that protects plants from pests, harsh weather, and other external factors. This control allows you to tailor conditions to specific plant varieties.

　　3. Choosing the Right Equipment:

　　When selecting grow racks with lights, consider the following factors:

　　Light Type: There are various types of grow lights available, including fluorescent, LED, and high-intensity discharge (HID) lights. LED lights are energy-efficient and have become a popular choice for their versatility and spectrum adjustability.

　　Light Spectrum: Different plants have varying light requirements during different growth stages. Look for lights that offer a full spectrum, including blue light for vegetative growth and red light for flowering and fruiting.

　　Size and Configuration: Choose a grow rack that fits your available space and suits the type and number of plants you intend to grow. Consider factors like shelf spacing and adjustability.

　　Cooling and Ventilation: Grow lights can generate heat, so ensure that the rack has proper cooling and ventilation to prevent overheating and maintain optimal temperature conditions.

　　Durability and Construction: Invest in a sturdy and durable grow rack with a frame that can support the weight of your plants and lights. Look for materials that resist rust and corrosion.

　　4. Tips for Maximizing Plant Growth:

　　To make the most of your grow racks with lights, follow these tips:

　　Light Intensity and Duration: Adjust the height and duration of your grow lights to match the specific light requirements of your plants. Some plants may need more light, while others may thrive with less.

　　Air Circulation: Ensure good air circulation within the grow rack to prevent the buildup of humidity, which can lead to mold and fungal issues. Use fans or open vents if necessary.

　　Humidity Control: Maintain appropriate humidity levels within the grow rack by using a hygrometer and a humidifier or dehumidifier. Different plants have different humidity preferences.

　　Watering and Fertilizing: Be vigilant with watering and follow a regular fertilization schedule. Container gardening in a confined space may require more frequent watering and nutrient replenishment.

　　Plant Placement: Arrange your plants on the shelves based on their light requirements, with taller plants placed on higher shelves and shorter ones on lower shelves. This ensures that all plants receive adequate light.

　　Pruning and Training: Regularly prune and train your plants to maintain their shape and encourage healthy growth. This is especially important for plants that tend to become leggy or bushy.

　　5. Maintenance and Cleaning:

　　Regular maintenance ensures the longevity and functionality of your grow racks with lights:

　　Cleaning: Periodically clean the shelves, trays, and walls of the grow rack to remove dust, debris, and potential sources of pests and diseases.

　　Inspect for Wear: Check the frame, shelves, and lighting system for signs of wear or damage. Replace any worn-out components promptly to maintain the rack's structural integrity.

　　Cleaning the Lights: Clean the light fixtures and bulbs to remove dust and dirt, which can reduce light output and efficiency.

　　In conclusion, grow racks with lights have revolutionized indoor gardening, enabling gardeners to cultivate a wide range of plants regardless of outdoor conditions. By providing the right spectrum and intensity of light, controlled environments, and space efficiency, these tools are instrumental in maximizing plant growth and ensuring healthy and thriving gardens. Whether you're growing herbs, vegetables, or ornamental plants, investing in grow racks with lights can help you cultivate success and enjoy the rewards of bountiful and beautiful indoor gardens year-round.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Academic economists get big payouts when they help monopolists beat antitrust

After 40 years of rampant corporate crime, there's a new sheriff in town: Jonathan Kanter was appointed by Biden to run the DOJ Antitrust Divisoon, and he's overseen 170 "significant antitrust actions" in the past 2.5 years, culminating in a court case where Google was ruled to be an illegal monopolist:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

Kanter's work is both extraordinary and par for the course. As Kanter said in a recent keynote for the Fordham Law Competition Law Institute’s 51st Annual Conference on International Antitrust Law and Policy, we're witnessing an epochal, global resurgence of antitrust:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/speech/assistant-attorney-general-jonathan-kanter-delivers-remarks-fordham-competition-law-0

Kanter's incredible enforcement track record isn't just part of a national trend – his colleagues in the FTC, CFPB and other agencies have also been pursuing an antitrust agenda not seen in generations – but also a worldwide trend. Antitrust enforcers in Canada, the UK, the EU, South Korea, Australia, Japan and even China are all taking aim at smashing corporate monopolies. Not only are they racking up impressive victories against these giant corporations, they're stealing the companies' swagger. After all, the point of enforcement isn't just to punish wrongdoing, but also to deter wrongdoing by others.

Until recently, companies hurled themselves into illegal schemes (mergers, predatory pricing, tying, refusals to deal, etc) without fear or hesitation. Now, many of these habitual offenders are breaking the habit, giving up before they've even tried. Take Wiz, a startup that turned down Google's record-shattering $23b buyout offer, understanding that the attempt would draw more antitrust scrutiny than it was worth:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/wiz-turns-down-23-billion-022926296.html

As welcome as this antitrust renaissance is, it prompts an important question: why didn't we enforce antitrust law for the 40 years between Reagan and Biden?

That's what Kanter addresses the majority of his remarks to. The short answer is: crooked academic economists took bribes from monopolists and would-be monopolists to falsify their research on the impacts of monopolists, and made millions (literally – one guy made over $100m at this) testifying that monopolies were good and efficient.

After all, governments aren't just there to enforce rules – they have to make the rules first, and do to that, they need to understand how the world works, so they can understand how to fix the places where it's broken. That's where experts come in, filling regulators' dockets and juries' ears with truthful, factual testimony about their research. Experts can still be wrong, of course, but when the system works well, they're only wrong by accident.

The system doesn't work well. Back in the 1950s, the tobacco industry was threatened by the growing scientific consensus that smoking caused cancer. Industry scientists confirmed this finding. In response, the industry paid statisticians, doctors and scientists to produce deceptive research reports and testimony about the tobacco/cancer link.

The point of this work wasn't necessarily to convince people that tobacco was safe – rather, it was to create the sense that the safety of tobacco was a fundamentally unanswerable question. "Experts disagree," and you're not qualified to figure out who's right and who's wrong, so just stop trying to figure it out and light up.

In other words, Big Tobacco's cancer denial playbook wasn't so much an attack on "the truth" as it was an attack on epistemology – the system by which we figure out what is true and what isn't. The tactic was devastatingly effective. Not only did it allow the tobacco giants to kill millions of people with impunity, it allowed them to reap billions of dollars by doing so.

Since then, epistemology has been under sustained assault. By the 1970s, Big Oil knew that its products would render the Earth unfit for human habitation, and they hired the same companies that had abetted Big Tobacco's mass murder to provide cover for their own slow-motion, planetary scale killing spree.

Time and again, big business has used assaults on epistemology to provide cover for unthinkable crimes. This has given rise to today's epistemological crisis, in which we don't merely disagree about what is true, but (far more importantly) disagree about how the truth can be known:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/25/black-boxes/#when-you-know-you-know

Ask a conspiratorialist why they believe in Qanon or Hatians in Springfield eating pets, and you'll get an extremely vibes-based answer – fundamentally, they believe it because it feels true. As the old saying goes, you can't reason someone out of a belief they didn't reason their way into.

This assault on reason itself is at the core of Kanter's critique. He starts off by listing three cases in which academic economists allowed themselves to be corrupted by the monopolies they studied:

George Mason University tricked an international antitrust enforcer into attending a training seminar that they believed to be affiliated with the US government. It was actually sponsored by the very companies that enforcer was scrutnizing, and featured a parade of "experts" who asserted that these companies were great, actually.

An academic from GMU – which receives substantial tech industry funding – signed an amicus brief opposing an enforcement action against their funders. The academic also presented a defense of these funders to the OECD, all while posing as a neutral academic and not disclosing their funding sources.

An ex-GMU economist, Joshua Wright, submitted a study defending Qualcomm against the FTC, without disclosing that he'd been paid to do so. Wright has elevated undisclosed conflicts of interest to an art form:

https://www.wsj.com/us-news/law/google-lawyer-secret-weapon-joshua-wright-c98d5a31

Kanter is at pains to point out that these three examples aren't exceptional. The economics profession – whose core tenet is "incentive matter" – has made it standard practice for individual researchers and their academic institutions to take massive sums from giant corporations. Incredibly, they insist that this has nothing to do with their support of monopolies as "efficient."

Academic centers often serve as money-laundries for monopolist funders; researchers can evade disclosure requirements when they publish in journals or testify in court, saying only that they work for some esteemed university, without noting that the university is utterly dependent on money from the companies they're defending.

Now, Kanter is a lawyer, not an academic, and that means that his job is to advocate for positions, and he's at pains to say that he's got nothing but respect for ideological advocacy. What he's objecting to is partisan advocacy dressed up as impartial expertise.

For Kanter, mixing advocacy with expertise doesn't create expert advocacy – it obliterates expertise, as least when it comes to making good policy. This mixing has created a "crisis of expertise…a pervasive breakdown in the distinction between expertise and advocacy in competition policy."

The point of an independent academia, enshrined in the American Association of University Professors' charter, is to "advance knowledge by the unrestricted research and unfettered discussion of impartial investigators." We need an independent academy, because "to be of use to the legislator or the administrator, [an academic] must enjoy their complete confidence in the disinterestedness of [his or her] conclusions."

It's hard to overstate just how much money economists can make by defending monopolies. Writing for The American Prospect, Robert Kuttner gives the rate at $1,000/hour. Monopoly's top defenders make unimaginable sums, like U Chicago's Dennis Carlton, who's brought in over $100m in consulting fees:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-09-24-economists-as-apologists/

The hidden cost of all of this is epistemological consensus. As Tim Harford writes in his 2021 book The Data Detective, the truth can be known through research and peer-review:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford

But when experts deliberately seek to undermine the idea of expertise, they cast laypeople into an epistemological void. We know these questions are important, but we can't trust our corrupted expert institutions. That leaves us with urgent questions – and no answers. That's a terrifying state to be in, and it makes you easy pickings for authoritarian grifters and conspiratorial swindlers.

Seen in this light, Kanter's antitrust work is even more important. In attacking corporate power itself, he is going after the machine that funds this nihilism-inducing corruption machine.

This week, Tor Books published SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/25/epistemological-chaos/#incentives-matter

Image: Ron Cogswell (modified) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:George.Mason.University.Arlington.Campus.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[pickalilywrites]

Marcel helps Porco on what to do for Valentines day with Pieck.

cupid's helper

pokkopiku. modern au. 1089 words.

Pieck loves her boyfriend even though he’s not necessarily the most romantic person in the world. Porco is not one for large, romantic gestures. He’s more practical, always giving her gifts that are functional in addition to fulfilling at least one of her wants. He doesn’t splurge on restaurants, selecting more economical places to wine and dine on dates because it’s more financially responsible. He opts for substance over style, trying to avoid overcrowded and overhyped date spots in favor of timeless and classic date spots that they’ll remember forever. Pieck loves all of this about Porco. She loves how responsible, thoughtful, and practical he is, so it’s unusual when he tells her that for Valentine’s Day he’s planning something big and romantic for them. When she had offered her help, he had staunchly refused, telling her that he had everything covered.  

It’s not as if she doesn’t expect Porco to surprise her every now and then, but it does seem out of the ordinary when she comes home to their apartment one night and rose petals are scattered everywhere on the floor. Candles are lit all around their apartment, their aroma filling the entire living room and filling Pieck’s lungs with the scent of sandalwood.  

“I thought you didn’t like things like this,” Pieck says with a grin, her smile growing wider when she sees the slick suit that Porco is wearing for their night in. She lets him slide her coat off her shoulders and hang it for her on the coat rack. “Don’t you dislike lighting candles in our apartment? They’re a fire hazard, you said.”  

“I can make an exception for tonight. Besides, I’ll blow them out in a bit,” Porco says. He places one hand lightly against the small of Pieck’s back and guides her gently towards the dining room where the table has been set with a tablecloth and their best silverware and china. “I made you dinner tonight.”  

“Ooh, I’m such a lucky gal,” Pieck says, clasping her hands together excitedly. She waits for Porco to pull her chair out for her before she takes her seat. She gazes lovingly at her boyfriend as he retreats into the kitchen to get the first course. She smiles when he places a bowl of cassoulet, a slow-cooked pork and mutton stew cooked with beans and sausage. “You don’t normally make such extravagant meals.”  

“Well, you’re more than worth it,” Porco replies, which only makes Pieck smile grow wider. 

Each dish is more complex and surprising than the next. Porco doesn’t typically show off with his cooking skills, opting for simple and practical dishes because they were budget-friendly and efficient for their busy lifestyles. Following the cassoulet is a creamy lobster risotto and then a colorful panzanella salad before serving the main course of mushroom, spinach, gruyere-stuffed pork tenderloin with a side of saffron rice.  

“This is all so delicious!” Pieck hums as she takes another bite of the succulent tenderloin. “Are you planning on opening a restaurant, Pokko? You should have told me. I could help you manage it.”  

“God, no. I don’t have the patience for that,” Porco snorts. He picks up his wine glass, swirls it, and then takes a sip of it. “This is for you and only you.”  

“What a lucky girl I am,” Pieck smiles. She pretends not to notice when Porco glances at his phone for the dozenth time that night. He’s not usually the type to constantly look at his phone, but it seems tonight he’s more anxious about it than ever. Even now, she can see that he’s itching to check his screen. She wonders what he’s so anxious about.  

“Well, you do only deserve the best,” Porco says. It’s only when he’s speaking to her that he can tear his gaze away from his phone. She’s only just noticed it now, but his smile seems a little more forced than usual. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and gives Pieck another forced smile. “Should I get dessert?”  

“Ooh, yes. That would be lovely,” Pieck says. She purses her lips and watches Porco leave for the kitchen.  

Every time he’s left for the kitchen, he’s always taken his phone. This time, however, he’s left it sitting on the table. He must have forgotten it in his haste. Pieck should probably leave it alone, especially since Porco will be back for it, but her curiosity gets the best of her. Before she knows it, she finds herself reaching across the table and taking Porco’s phone for herself, unlocking it with her own fingerprint since he had added her fingerprints as a biometric password to his device a long time ago.  

Pieck can’t say what she had been expecting, but she certainly didn’t think she would be seeing a slew of messages from Marcel. Based on their conversation, Porco has been messaging his brother throughout the night to give him an update on the Valentine’s Day dinner. Pieck scrolls through the messages quickly, smiling as she reads the chat log between the brothers. It seems Porco had enlisted the help of his older brother to plan this Valentine’s Day date, which explains the uncharacteristic rose petals and candles as well as the extravagant dinner. It even seems that Porco had sent Marcel photos of each dish before he had carried them out to Pieck, asking Marcel’s opinion of the plating and seeking reassurance that everything looked good.  

“What are you doing?”  

Pieck turns around to see her boyfriend carrying a plate of chocolate lava cake. She grins as she holds out her phone, showing Porco his conversation with Marcel. “Did Marcel help you plan all of this?” she asks.  

Porco hurriedly sets the cake on the table before snatching his phone from Pieck. He shoves his phone in the pocket of his trousers with a groan. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”  

“I think it’s cute. You really went above and beyond with this one, and it’s sweet of Marcel to help,” Pieck says. She stands up and cups her boyfriend’s face in her hands. With a mischievous grin, she whispers, “I didn’t know Marcel was so romantic. Should I go on a date with him next?”  

Even though Pieck is clearly joking, Porco grabs Pieck fiercely by the waist and pulls her close. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.  

Pieck just laughs and runs her fingers through his hair before pulling him in for a kiss.  

[ruins-and-rewritez]

DAY 4: SUGAR: Nina

Celebrations are few and far between. Birthdays are a collective. The Feast of Saint Nikolai is always meager. Saints Day is a day for reverance and prayer. Adoption days, rare.

There have been only two since Nina stepped foot in the orphange. There was a third, only to be cancelled when the boy acidentally set his bed on fire during a nightmare. He still smelt like ash when the Grisha came to take him to the Little Palace.

Today is special, Nina knows, because the staff in the kitchen is busy at work. A special vistor perhaps? An adoption? She isn't sure of the details, but she sits eagerly on her stool watching Baba Inessa kneading the bread.

Fluffy, white flour bursts up in little clouds with each rotation of the dough. Steaming seas of boiling water spit out puffs of steam. A kettle whistles and one of the ovens clinks when the door closes. The room smells buttery and sweet like the Feast two years ago when everyone got their own minature pastry to enjoy.

Nina's was filled with a dark jelly that left little pinpricks of flavor along her tongue with every bite.

She giggles, remembering the pinched look on Tomek's face when he found his own filled with green apple jam instead of the strawberry he'd been expecting.

Baba raises a brow at Nina, confused about her strange outburst.

Nina just shrugs in response, stifling another giggle.

"Would you like to help?"

Nina jumps at the question, most of the time the women in the kitchen prefer that she keep out of the way. But on handful of occasions they've rewarded her good behavior with a place beside them.

She moves in front of the spongey dough, waiting for direction or instruction. She knows that this will be bread she just isn't sure how she's going to make it that way.

Baba Inessa's hand are soft and worn, though they are gentle are she shows Nina hows to spread and knead. She guides her attention to a mixture in the bowl beside them. How to work the light brown powder in evenly. How to twist the dough into an intricate knot.

She explains in calm, measured words why they have to give it rest before to goes into the oven.

Nina helps whittle down the growing pile of dishes while it sits temptingly a few feet away.

She dives in with gusto, given the task of crushing fresh walnuts for the outer crust. Sprinkling them carefully over the top, before stepping back to let Baba slide their creation into the burning oven

It feels like a long time before the bread comes out, golden brown and piping hot. Even longer sitting on the cooling rack by the open window before Nina can see the end result.

Pride wells up in her at the sight of it. Flaky and glistening, like the loaves she seen in the patisserie window when Nina helped carry supplies back from town. Her mouth waters from it.

Baba Inessa smiles at her young charge, expertly slicing the bread into squat browned slices.

When she's through she hands Nina the thin heels of crust before loading the rest onto a fine china plate.

Cinnamon explodes in her mouth after her first bite. The few walnuts clinging to the end give a satisfactory crunch. Nina is sure its one of the best things she's ever made.

She can taste the sugar of it as the older members of Ravka's Grisha Order lead her away.

[trendingreportz]

Powder Coatings Market - Forecast(2024 - 2030)

Powder Coatings Market Overview

The Powder Coatings Market size is forecasted to reach US$18.2 billion by 2027 after growing at a CAGR of 6.1% during the forecast period 2022-2027. Powder coating is a dry finishing process in which free-flowing, thermoplastic or thermoset powder material is applied to a surface, melted and then allowed to dry and harden into a protective coating. Powder coating based on thermoplastic polymers is derived from polyolefins, polyvinyl chloride, polyvinyl fluoride, polyester and so on whereas thermoset-based powder coatings are derived from epoxy, polyester, acrylic, polyurethanes and so on. Powder coating imparts a high-quality, durable finish, that allows for improved efficiency and is eco-friendly. Powder coatings are based on polymer resin systems. The environmental advantages offered by powder coatings compared to liquid coating methods drives the powder coatings market. The pandemic resulted in shortages of raw materials and supply chain disruptions. According to Echemi, a chemical industry B2B website, there were shortages of neopentyl glycol that is used in many of the resins for powder coatings and triglycidyl isocyanurate which is a curing agent used in polyester powder coatings. This resulted in price hikes of over 60% in the Powder Coatings industry.

Powder Coatings Market Report Coverage

The “Powder Coatings Market Report – Forecast (2022-2027)” by IndustryARC, covers an in-depth analysis of the following segments of the Powder Coatings industry.

By Resin Type: Thermoset (Epoxy, Polyester, Acrylic, Fluoropolymer, Polyurethanes and Others) and Thermoplastic (Polyamide, Polyolefin, Polyethylene, Polyvinyl Chloride, Polypropylene and Others).

By Coating Method: Fluidized Spray, Electrostatic Fluidized Bed, Electrostatic Spray and Others.

By Substrate: Metal (Steel, Aluminum and Others) and Non-Metal (Plastic, Wood, Ceramics, Glass and Others).

By End-Use Industry: Automotive [Two-wheelers (Scooters and Bikes) and Three/Four-wheelers (Passenger Cars, Heavy Commercial Vehicles and Light Commercial Vehicles)], Construction (Outdoor Construction and Indoor Construction), Appliances (Refrigerator, Water Coolers, Vending Machines, Washing Machines, Air Conditioners/Coolers, Electrical Fans, Kitchen Blenders/Mixers, Vacuum Cleaners, Water Heaters, Ovens & Chimneys, LPG Cylinders and Others), Electrical & Electronics (Transformers, Generators, ATM Machines, Industrial/Commercial Systems, Electrical Motor Stators/Rotors, Electric Meters & Connectors, Computer Room Floor System and Others), General Industrial (Industrial Carts & Power Tools, Storage & Racking, Escalators & Elevators, Lockers, Walls & Fittings, Water Pumps, Steel Drums, Pipes & Rebars and Others), Furniture (Outdoor Metal Furniture, Beds & Chairs, Benches and Others), Medical, Transportation & Equipment (Railways, Industrial Transportation, Construction Equipment, Agricultural Equipment, Marine, Aerospace) and Others.

By Geography: North America (the USA, Canada and Mexico), Europe (UK, Germany, France, Italy, Netherlands, Spain, Denmark, Belgium and the Rest of Europe), Asia-Pacific (China, Japan, India, South Korea, Australia and New Zealand, Indonesia, Taiwan, Malaysia and Rest of APAC), South America (Brazil, Argentina, Colombia, Chile and Rest of South America), Rest of the World (the Middle East and Africa)

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Key Takeaways

The Asia-Pacific region dominates the powder coatings market on account of the increasing construction activities and the recovering automotive industry. According to Invest India, the construction industry in India is expected to reach $1.4 trillion by 2025.

There are two types of powder coatings, thermoplastic and thermoset. Thermoplastic powders are commonly derived from polyolefins, polyvinyl chloride and polyvinyl fluoride while thermosetting powders are derived from acrylic, epoxy and polyester resins.

Thermoplastic powder coating melts and flows when heat is applied but continues to have the same chemical composition once it cools and solidifies. On the other hand, thermoset powder coatings will not melt when heated after curing.

The major opportunity for this market is developing thin-film coatings.

A detailed analysis of strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats will be provided in the powder coatings market report.

Powder Coatings Market Segment Analysis – by Resin Type

The thermoset segment held a dominant Powder Coatings Market share in 2021 and is expected to grow at a CAGR of 7.2% during the forecast period of 2022-2027. In the powder coating process, as the powder heats and melts it flows around the surface of the object and undergoes a chemical change called cross-linking which forms a hard and durable coating. Thermosetting coatings do not re-melt when they are cooled after heat is re-applied. In its powdered state, thermoset material tends to have a much lower molecular weight than other coating materials, usually requiring less heat to melt, making it more energy efficient. Thermoset powders are commonly derived from epoxy, acrylic, polyester and polyurethane groups. The most frequently employed are epoxy and polyester-based resins. Epoxy resin-based thermoset powders form a tough impact-resistant coating that has excellent corrosion resistance, so they are used for internal applications. Polyester-based coatings have the added advantage of being highly UV resistant, making them an ideal choice for outdoor applications. Thus, the thermoset segment is anticipated to dominate the powder coatings market.

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Powder Coatings Market Segment Analysis – by Application

The construction segment held a dominant Powder Coatings Market share in 2021 and is expected to grow at a CAGR of 8.3% during the forecast period of 2022-2027. Powder coating can be used for metal components such as door frames, railings, window frames, fencing, shelters, storefronts, façade or other areas of buildings. According to WSP, around 25% of the overall construction cost is the façade, with the metal contributing a major part of the cost. Powder coating can prevent corrosion and minimize re-coating as it imparts a long-lasting coating. The powder coat is more resistant to scratching, fading, erosion or other types of damage that can ruin the aesthetic appeal of a building The latest trend in the construction industry is low-emitting products and sustainable buildings. According to the U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC), 1,105 projects have been certified with LEED certification for green buildings in the U.S. in 2021. Powder coatings are solvent and VOC-free and produce less waste than other coating methods, making them a clear choice for green buildings. Thus, the construction industry is expected to dominate the market.

Powder Coatings Market Segment Analysis – by Geography

The Asia-Pacific region held the dominant Powder Coatings Market share up to 60% in 2021 owing to the rising consumption of powder coatings from the automotive, construction and appliances sector. The construction activities in the region rebounded after the initial lockdown in 2020. The government of India has made several investments in construction and infrastructure to aid in development. As per a report by the Indian Construction Equipment Manufacturers Association (ICEMA), the construction equipment industry recorded a 47% growth in the second quarter of FY2021-22. According to a news report in Reuters, in FY22-23, US$529.7 billion will be invested to further drive economic growth across the country. China’s construction sector is expanding rapidly. according to the National Bureau of Statistics, China’s construction output is estimated to be worth approximately US$4.3 trillion in 2021. China plans to invest US$1.43 trillion in key construction projects as part of its 14th five-year plan. As per the National Development and Reform Commission (NDRC), the Shanghai plans call for a total investment of US$38.7 billion over the next three years. The Japanese construction industry is expected to boom as the World Expo will be hosted in Osaka, Japan in 2025. Therefore, this region is set to dominate the Powder Coatings market.

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Powder Coatings Market Drivers

Environmental Advantages of Using Powder Coatings

Powder coating is the green process of choice for finishing operations. It produces less waste than other finishing processes such as liquid coating. The use of powder coating aids in eliminating waste because, after application, the powder coating overspray can be reclaimed and reused. These types of reclamation practices keep overhead costs low while minimizing environmental impacts. Solvents contain volatile organic compounds (VOCs) which are detrimental to the environment. In liquid coatings, the average VOC content is between 3.5 to 5.5 pounds per gallon, which is approximately one-third to one-half of each gallon of the liquid coating being emitted into the environment during the application process. Since powder coating lines do not require the use of solvents, they do not emit VOCs and can operate with reduced energy, faster curing and lower temperatures. This makes powder coatings highly attractive from an environmental perspective. Innovations in the powder coatings industry strive to make it even better. For instance, in early 2020, Sherwin-Williams General Industrial Coatings division launched the Powdura ECO line made from a resin that uses pre-consumer recycled polyethylene terephthalate (rPET). Thus, the environmental advantages offered by using powder coatings drive the market.

Growing Usage of Powder Coatings in Electric Vehicles

The growth of electric vehicles (EVs) can be attributed to increasing oil prices and growing awareness regarding climate change. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), in 2021, sales of electric cars (including fully electric and plug-in hybrids) doubled to a new record of 6.6 million. Sales kept rising in 2022 as well, with 2 million electric cars sold worldwide in Q1 2022, up almost 75% compared to Q1 2021. To keep EV motors and batteries operating efficiently, it’s important to maintain an optimum temperature range. Sometimes EV motors can generate operating temperatures that may exceed 200°C. Powder coatings are used to insulate battery boxes and isolate thermal activity. To take advantage of the growing EV market, powder coating manufacturers are launching products that cater to EVs. For instance, in January 2022, Arkema announced high-voltage coating solutions for electric vehicles. The two new polyamide 11 powder coating grades with UL certification were introduced for use in electric vehicle battery systems and other applications. Thus, the growing usage of powder coatings for EVs drives the market.

Powder Coatings Market Challenge

High Initial Investment

The major restraint in the Powder Coatings market is the high initial investment required to set up the powder coating equipment. Liquid coating applications only require a spray gun and a spray area. Comparatively, a powder coating workshop needs a spray gun, spray booth and curing oven. The addition of the curing oven adds significantly to the initial start-up costs for powder coating. The size of the curing oven purchased needs to take into account the maximum part size that can effectively be handled. Larger, thicker and heavier parts require a larger and more powerful oven, which further adds to the overall equipment costs. While metals can be powder coated using electrostatic spray deposition, non-metals require a fluidized bed powder coating application. The need for a fluidized bed also increases the overall equipment costs for the establishment of a complete powder coating facility. This can prove to be a challenge for the powder coatings market.

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Powder Coatings Industry Outlook

Product launches, acquisitions and R&D activities are key strategies adopted by players in the Powder Coatings market. The top 10 companies in the Powder Coatings Market are:

PPG Industries

AkzoNobel Powder Coatings

BASF SE

Axalta Coating Systems

The Sherwin Williams Company

Jotun

Valspar Corporation

Nippon Paint Holdings Co. Ltd.

Kansai Nerolac Paints Limited

Tiger Coatings

Recent Developments

In June 2022, Polychem launched a new powder coating collection called the Effects Collection. The collection features powder special effects, such as speckles, translucents, metallics, sparkle translucent, veins, patina effects, river textures, fine textures and dramatic illusion colors, available in a variety of colors.

In May 2022, AkzoNobel Powder Coatings launched a comprehensive range of ready-to-ship powder coatings ranges specifically for the North American market. The range comprises approximately 500 unique powder coatings, with a broad variety of premium quality colors, textures and finishes.

In February 2022, PPG announced that it has entered into an agreement to acquire the powder coatings business of Arsonsisi, an industrial coatings company based in Milan, Italy. The acquisition will enable PPG to expand its powder coatings offering in the Europe, Middle East and Africa (EMEA) region.

[infinitiresearch]

Bicycle Accessories Market| Market Size, Share, Trends, Analysis, Growth and Forecast, 2024 – 2028

Originally published on Technavio: Bicycle Accessories Market Analysis Europe, APAC, North America, South America, Middle East and Africa - US, China, Japan, Germany, France - Size and Forecast 2024-2028

The bicycle accessories market is poised for significant analysis and growth across key regions, including Europe, Asia-Pacific (APAC), North America, South America, and the Middle East and Africa. Focusing on major countries such as the United States, China, Japan, Germany, and France, this research aims to provide insights into the size and forecast of the market from 2024 to 2028.

In Europe, particularly in countries like Germany and France, the bicycle accessories market is witnessing robust growth driven by a strong cycling culture, environmental awareness, and an increasing focus on healthy lifestyles. European consumers, known for their enthusiasm for cycling, are investing in a variety of accessories to enhance their riding experience. The market in Europe is characterized by a diverse range of products, including safety gear, storage solutions, and performance-enhancing accessories, catering to the preferences of both urban and recreational cyclists.

Asia-Pacific (APAC) emerges as a significant player in the bicycle accessories market, with China and Japan playing key roles. In China, the growing interest in fitness and outdoor activities, coupled with government initiatives promoting cycling, is driving the demand for bicycle accessories. Japanese consumers, known for their appreciation of high-quality products, are contributing to the market's growth by investing in innovative and technologically advanced bicycle accessories. The APAC market is further buoyed by the increasing popularity of electric bicycles, leading to a demand for accessories tailored to this segment.

In North America, particularly in the United States, the bicycle accessories market is experiencing growth fueled by factors such as increased interest in cycling as a recreational and commuting activity, a focus on eco-friendly transportation, and the adoption of cycling as a fitness regimen. Consumers in the U.S. are investing in a wide range of accessories, including bike racks, lights, and smart cycling gadgets. The market is characterized by a mix of established brands and innovative startups catering to the diverse needs of American cyclists.

South America is witnessing a growing market for bicycle accessories, with countries like Brazil contributing to the increased demand. The region's favorable climate and a rising awareness of health and fitness are encouraging more people to take up cycling, thereby driving the sales of bicycle accessories. The market in South America is marked by the popularity of accessories that enhance safety, comfort, and style for cyclists.

The Middle East and Africa region presents a developing landscape for the bicycle accessories market. While cycling may vary in popularity across countries, there is a growing interest in accessories that cater to both recreational and commuter cyclists. Factors such as government initiatives promoting cycling infrastructure and a focus on sustainable transportation contribute to the market's potential growth.

To Learn deeper into this report , View Sample PDF

In summary, the bicycle accessories market across these regions is experiencing dynamic growth driven by factors such as changing lifestyles, environmental consciousness, and increased interest in cycling activities. The forecast period from 2024 to 2028 is expected to witness sustained expansion, with manufacturers and retailers focusing on product innovation, safety features, and customization to meet the evolving demands of cyclists worldwide.

For more information please contact.

[purplemoonabove]

Art-inspired Fanfic - No. 7

Nexts up - @by--bianka

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The poor lad didn’t last a second, but he had good taste in what he needed. Few sets of clothes, attainable foods that can last a week, coins that hopefully will be efficient—Ed wasn’t exactly familiar on China’s currency—and all inside a spare cotton sack resting on his back, the tying ropes in his fist.

His hair was played by the cool wind, the contact cooling him further than how it was in the forest. The last presence he bore in woods was for that treasure hunt Stede planned, and even when he wasn’t in discomfort in leather while the sun rested at his skin for a further tanning the warmth in those woods near the camp made the uniform a bit useful due to open gaps that were easy to pump air inside for his chest.

Foots of leather authorized boots finally left the soggy and unstable surface of the sand to the built grounding of wood separating from land to the water. At the far end of it were of short pillars, most of them engulfed to stand in the close waters, and on one was a thick hold of rope in place. Getting close to the edge led him to see the other end of the rope, where a light brown dinghy was being rocked by the gentle waves as they moved towards shore and back.

There was one detail missing from this.

“Stede?” He called out. His voice was of a necessary whisper, or else any louder would alert any possibly guard in passing and could catch him again. Placing the sack down near his feet, Ed turned about in hopes to catch an alive body heading towards him.

He must be late. Something must have caught up. But what? There was nothing other than dealing with the Navy that could slow either one down. But Ed made sure the guard he hired to lead Stede did his job right, or else he was going to get it. The plan was simple – get Stede in two hours time, and head him over to the dock where Ed will catch up. Then the two will sail off in successful silence, giving a huge ‘fuck you!’ to the English Navy and the Act of Grace, and live on their new lives with new names and backgrounds while blending among the active crowds of China.

Ed will admit, though. He would miss his mates, as well as the Revenge crew. He would miss Izzy; he had some qualities that weren’t so irritable and toxic to deal with. But Ed knew they would be fine. Even though Stede and he were co-captains, he knew they could figure out amongst themselves who will be best efficient to be the new official captain of the Revenge.

(His money was on Oluwande—Sorry, Izzy, but you can be a pain in the ass. Enough for even Ed to commit mutiny on him if not murder on his best mate. Then again, he does have that weird pain kink—)

“Ed!”

Jolting out from his thoughts, Ed whipped back that sent his hair in a skirt’s flutter. Pounding down on the dock with every heavy jog, the slow down from previous running Ed can confirm, Stede finally came up to a stop, hands on his knees and head down to take in on his panting.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?!” He kept the whisper in the scold, still not wishing to get caught. He glanced over his head to spot if there was anyone close by, or hiding in the woods—Nothing. “Why didn’t you come here? The guard was supposed to have you here before me.”

“The guard…” Stede paused to swallow a few gulps of air before lifting his head. Even with his eyes a bit out of focus and his skin coming to hold a thin layer of growing sweat, he was still the handsome gentleman pirate Ed was happy to be with. “The guard didn’t wake me up.”

Ed blinked, eyebrows furrowing. “What? Then who did?”

“…Chauncey.”

He blinked. His attention went into space as he racked through his memories, trying to get the face. “That bald git from the boat?!” He then blurt out before remembering to keep his voice down.

Stede nodded.

“What did the ass do?” He then questioned, slightly a demand as well, a demand to get a reason on kicking his ass.

Stede then explained everything in the best he could as his breathing returned to normal. Doing so, Ed’s excitement for escape was dropped as a cannon into the sea. That bastard. That no good son of a— He planned to kill Stede just because he was a little pansy. And a drunk one at that, so clogged up in the brain that he shot himself dead instead. He would have laugh at the irony—two brothers dead, and both cause with fatal injury towards the eye. It could have him wonder how many siblings they could have to tally up the score further—if it weren’t for the reality at hand.

Stede almost didn’t make it.

Stede could have died.

And Ed wouldn’t have known.

“I am so sorry, Ed,” Stede then expressed his distraught. “Everything just got all in a mess, and I can understand why you would be given the assumption that I would have abandoned you…”

Despite the reality, he can sense the hesitation from the latter. The broken eye contact proved it.

Ed walked two steps closer, their bodies now about three inches separate of space and giving Ed the unfortunate blow of an arrow hitting his heart.

“Even though I almost did,” Stede finished.

The shame weighted at the blond’s shoulders, his face crumbling in further distress as close to his blindfolded expression back on the boat. Ed then reached over, not to remove another blindfold but to touch the warmed and damp skin, ignoring the texture to tilt Stede’s head up and over to him.

“Stede, what he said wasn’t your fault,” he started.

“But—”

“Shh.”

It was almost close to the one he gave to Stede after revealing who he was. Only this time, instead of frozen shock he was given silenced anticipation. Waiting in respect to Ed.

“Look, he was drunk and had a pretty bad day. All his blabbering was just him being a loser, not taking reality like a man. Everything you did was just out of your own interest—you’re human, ‘tis not your fault. Who care what he thinks? And what makes the fucker think you destroyed me, huh? My beard’s gone but so what? I’m still fuckin’ Blackbeard! Just not now.

“Because now—” He cupped Stede’s cheeks, their faces opposite to each other. During the speech was thankful comfort sent over to the blond, a chuckle releasing at the Blackbeard reminder. Under his palms, Stede’s cheeks warmed and the sky was still purple. “I got a mate to spend my new life with in China.”

Stede’s cheeks puffed, his gorgeous smile in return. “As do I.” And with that led to confirmation, their own signature of agreement repeated by the same action done at the beach earlier. His lips were just as warm and chapped, but also welcoming and eager as his own. Both desired each other from the start, and finally realized a new opportunity where they can be happy together.

A Perfect Day

[erasamuel]

Optical Interconnects Market Growing Popularity and Emerging Trends in the Industry

The Latest Released market study on Global Optical Interconnects market provides information and useful stats on market structure, size and trends. The report is intended to provide cutting-edge market intelligence and strategic insights to help decision makers take sound investment decisions and identify potential gaps and growth opportunities. Besides, the report also identifies and analyses changing dynamics, emerging trends along with essential drivers, challenges, opportunities and restraints in Optical Interconnects market. What’s keeping II-VI Incorporated (United States), Lumentum Operations LLC (United States), Molex, LLC (United States), InnoLight Technology (Suzhou) Ltd. (China), NVIDIA Corporation (United States), Fujitsu Ltd. (Japan), TE Connectivity (Switzerland), Amphenol Corporation (United States), Accelink Technology Co. Ltd. (China), Juniper Networks, Inc. (United States), Infinera Corporation (United States) Keep Growing in the Market? Benchmark yourself with the strategic moves and latest Market Share and Sizing of Global Optical Interconnects market recently published by AMA Optical interconnects are a form of communication that uses optical cables instead of conventional cables. Optical cables have a far higher bandwidth than traditional cables. For both telecoms and datacoms, optical technology is a promising, energy-efficient solution for meeting increased bandwidth requirements. Since light can pass through dielectrics and even vacuum, optical interconnect is an interesting alternative to metallic wires. One of the main factors driving the optical interconnect market is the adoption of cloud databases. Storage-as-a-service (SaaS) and platform-as-a-service (PaaS) cloud storage systems have greater scalability by expertly managing complex data and storing it for later use. Optical interconnect is more cost-effective than networking infrastructure because it uses less electricity.

The Optical Interconnects Market segments and Market Data Break Down by Type (Cable Assemblies (Indoor Cable Assemblies, Outdoor Cable Assemblies, Active Optical Cables), Connectors (LC Connectors, SC Connectors, ST Connectors, MPO/MTP Connectors), Optical Transceivers, Fibre and Waveguides, Silicon Photonics, Others), Application (Telecommunication, Data communication), Level Type (Chip- & Board-Level, Board-To-Board and Rack-Level, Metro & long Haul), Fiber Mode (Single Mode Fiber, Multi-Mode Fiber (Step Index Multi-Mode Fiber, Graded Index Multi-Mode Fiber)), End-Use Industry (Energy & Utility, Consumer Electronics, Automotive, Chemicals, IT&Telecommunication, Others)

On the geographical front, the market has been segregated into North America (the United States and Canada), Europe (Germany, France, the United Kingdom, Italy, Spain, Russia and others), Asia Pacific (China, Japan, India, South Korea, Australia, Indonesia and others), Latin America (Brazil, Mexico and others), and Middle East and Africa. What’s Trending in Market: Continuous Development in the Digital Transformation across the World Market Opportunities: Increase in Use of Optical Interconnects in High-Performance Computing Applications

Mounting Demand from Emerging Economics such as China, Brazil, India, among others

Highlights of Influencing Drivers: Higher Adoption of Big Data Analytics In Growing Economies

Increasing Demand for Highly Secure and Safe Wiring Systems in Industrial and Commercial Applications Presented By

AMA Research & Media LLP

[elucubrare]

Carpathia, 17--

The sun, his servant told him, streamed in through the glass panels of the solar (now converted to a greenhouse). When he touched the soil, it was warm and damp, but not wet, as the books indicated it should be. And yet the little bush did not flourish. Its leaves drooped and yellowed sadly.

"Perhaps you should bring it earth from its home," his nearest neighbor, a Count, suggested.

"Perhaps," he answered. And so, at great expense, he had earth from China brought to his keep high in the mountains. It seemed to help. The bush's leaves grew green and thick, and his servant told him that the light was still good.

At night he knelt next to the tea plant, feeling its roots sink into the soil - growing slowly, the way time passes.

"Tell me when the sun is best to dry the leaves," he instructed his servant. And the man did so. The leaves dried in the sun the glass panes let through, and their cultivator did not see them dry, but waited, patiently. He had all of eternity to wait.

When the leaves were dried, he gathered them - always at night - from their racks. With his own hands he stoked the fire and boiled water and steeped the tea. He could not taste it, of course, so he set the steaming mug in front of his servant.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's good," he answered. "You know, when my father told me you wanted to grow tea, I didn't believe him."

"How is he? I haven't seen him in a long time, I think."

"Dead, m'lord. We don't live all that long."

It's good, he thought. It could be better. And so he brought water all the way from China, and bought clearer glass, and more tea plants, and bred them together to make the best leaves. "How is it?" he asked generations of servants, who were, to him, less individual than the leaves of his tea bushes. And they told him it was good. He wished he could taste it.

It must be like the difference between the blood of a horse and the blood of a man, he thought, though, consumed by the need to perfect his tea, he hadn't need to feed for centuries. He watched the steam rise from the glass mugs, and admired the translucent golden-brown hue of the liquid they contained. If it is as good as it is beautiful, he thought, and felt a glow like the glow of fire in his cold veins, it must be good indeed.

NYC, 20--

"'Over three hundred years of experience,'" she read, sneeringly, off the side of a box of tea. "Yeah, right."

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

draco malfoy's recipe for dinner in a pinch

draco malfoy makes dinner for one.

this story is inspired by the tortellini i ate in bed today. breathe like you love yourself.

also on a03

When Draco cooks for Harry, he always does his best. He pulls out all the stops: recalls the best and most delectable of his trips to France, to Greece, to the north of Italy - aims to put the world on a plate. When he cooks for Pansy, he blends algae and colourful powders, makes sugar-free ice creams and superfood bowls. They all but devour it, muscles sore from the gym and cheeks pink with laughter, still in their tights from barre class. For his mother, Draco doesn't cook - instead, he picks up carry-out from McDonald's and Domino's, plasticky packages of ready meals from Sainsbury's. They eat them at her flat, on the last of the Manor's china, shrunk and smuggled out in a pocket right before it was all stripped and repossessed. It reminds them of the start of their life on their own, without Lucius, feeling the meat slowly come back onto their bones. When he cooks for Hermione, he works with the precision of a potioneer, measuring every micronutrient and calorie that she needs to grow the little life inside her. He knows that Ron takes good care of her, but he’s grown to love her so fiercely. Draco wants to do everything, anything he can, to ease her way in life. Each of these adds up to form his signature, visible from space, each meal an element of the syntax of his love, his gratitude for the people in his life. An old bit of pureblood training, given over to the light - to give people exactly what they want, without them even knowing. But tonight, Draco is on his own. Tonight, he cooks for himself.

Harry’s in Icelend on business. He’d left just this morning, with a “back first thing tomorrow, I promise” muttered against blond bedhead while Draco clung to the mittens slung around Harry’s neck. He’s convincing fairies to move out of a tunnel on some cold and barren road.

It’s only a Wednesday, and everyone he loves has worked through the day, earned their dinner and their slippers and their warm and happy home. So as the silly, wide-eyed cat clock above the mantle ticks over to 6:30, Draco slowly makes his way off the couch, out from under his pile of pens and sketches, the day’s mess of colour in his head. The kitchen is downstairs, and it’s dinner time.

When Draco was little, as befit his breeding, he'd been made to go to every sort of soiree, every mixer, every dinner party. They’d lifted him into hard, wooden dining chairs and snapped heavy napkins over his tiny lap at restaurants. According to the small courtesy books he’d studied as a child, boys are always expected to eat exactly what their fathers ordered, matching their speed bite for bite. It was the way of things, and anything contrary to that would be improper. But Draco and Lucius had a secret understanding. It was forged on one of the nights when Narcissa’s headaches would decommission her from high society, and it was strictly and solemnly upheld: as long as Draco attended every function without complaining - he was allowed to order for himself. And what Draco ordered, each time, without fail was-

Draco firmly clicked his phone into the charmed dock by the toaster, queued up the pink Replacements record, pressed play and stepped back. Every lonely home was coldest around 6 at night, never the right amount of lights on and somehow always matching the dehydrated, fuzzy state of its human companions. But the kitchen was always warm.

He felt the beginnings of the melody begin to wrap around his body, blinked at the warm light spilling over the cabinets. It was a different world, in here. You could hide from something down here, could stop in the middle of an awkward letter or a badly drawn arm and reach respite through the kitchen door. Stood on tiptoe, pulled down a jar from the shelf. Next, a blue enamel pot, charmed down from the rack and filled with water. Salted. Draco let his hips sway a little as he prodded at the dials on the stove, watched the small ring turn red.

It had been three weeks to the day after the trials when Draco had his first meal made by a muggle. He’d been wandering an unknown neighbourhood in London, looking for a job opening he wasn’t sure existed, with no papers or skills beyond what the Ministry released with his court dismissal. And it was so dull and dreary, and he felt so small and out of place, away from the Manor and the Wiltshire green, and everything was just bad, honestly, like his life had turned and sped off in a direction he couldn’t follow, into every broken promise and unimagined thing. And so there he was, cold and emaciated in the last of his Hogsmeade clothes, when he saw the bright yellow light coming through the windows of a large, orange building. It was oddly shaped, with white piping wrapping around the archway and surrounding a large, curling rune on a sign above. The front door was big and swung wide open, right by a notice board rife with colourful papers, and it just called to him. It called to him to go in. So in went Draco’s treacherous feet, and he followed, mouth slightly parted and arms up by his chest, wrists a bit limp - his default position that earned him so many slapped wrists over the years. It was so warm and lovely, a main space carpeted end to end with every pattern and colour. And all over the hall, little groups of people seated on the floor, eating off paper plates. No one was wearing shoes, they’d slipped them off by the edge of the carpet. There was no paintings on the walls, no decorations, and just as he was taking in the clean yellow walls, a large hand landed softly on his shoulder, startling him and steadying him at once.

“Just on time, brother, we’re nearly all out,” said a man with impossibly brown eyes smiling at him above a greying beard. A plate was shoved into Draco’s hands, and in the time it took him to look down at it, the stranger went away. The plate had several little piles of various dishes, roast vegetables and little bits of meat in fragrant sauce, a small mound of strangely crisped rice. And Draco walked the remaining few feet to the edge of the carpeted area, slipped his loafers off and sat down, legs tucked in tight to his chest. The first bite, off a plastic fork and half-cold, tasted like heaven. He wanted to cry. He tried to portion out delicate bites but soon gave into the abandon of flavour, all but shovelling the meal in, embarrassed but too given over to stop. A woman and a small child sat down a few feet away from him, spreading plates and cups out between them. She met his eyes as she pushed her bag to the side, smiled, said Ramadan Kareem. Draco squeezed his eyes at her, mouth full and fork already halfway to his mouth again. He hoped it sufficed as a greeting. Before long, the plate was empty and he gave himself one still moment to gaze around the room, at a thinning crowd of people of all sorts, at the warm lights overhead, at the long tables laid with aluminium trays where the man who’d given him the food was clearing used cups. Joy can so quickly turn sour when your default is shame. There wasn’t any magic in this room apart from him, he realised, and for the first time understood what that really meant, beyond all hypotheticals. A map over a planet with a single, ringing red dot over him. He fumbled with his plate, dropped it to the floor while he tried to put his shoes on, and then ran right out.

Three things, after water. Bowtie pasta. Butter. Salt. Harry bought the butter, always the French one with the silvery wrapping. Draco would sneak pats of it right from the fridge, when he got too into drawing and forgot to eat for hours.

After Barre classes, Draco and Pansy usually did yoga with videos by some woman on the internet. They would stretch out in front of the television and follow her solemnly as she guided them through the movements, only piping up with squeals when the instructor’s dog appeared on screen. Draco liked corpse pose best because the lady said nice things throughout, little messages and wishes and instructions for the day. And then, the other day, right in the middle of some acrobatic bend and barely halfway in, she instructed them to twist and then said “breathe like you love yourself,”. And Draco almost fell. Cause he’d been writing about it, you see, had been drawing about it and dreaming about it, the conversation he’d had with Harry all those years ago, after the trials and the fast food dinners and the undeserved kindness of strangers on his way. How Harry had told him about the Dursleys and what they’d made him do, and how Harry had refused, had with all his might resisted letting this poisonous encounter ruin cooking for him. Of Harry’s dancing eyes in the yellow kitchen, head propped on one arm over the coq au vin Draco had made him, and how he'd said - “you have to cook for yourself the way you would for someone you love,”. And how the simple delineation between food and force and food and love had made all the difference for him.

So when Draco poured the pasta through the strainer, and the steam pinked his cheeks, he breathed in deep and held it in.

When he pulled a bowl from the cupboard, he picked a nice one, with a pink heart that emerged below the rim, not the chipped ones or the awkward soup plates.

And when he stirred the butter in through the little golden shapes, and watched it melt and haze along each ridge and curve, he planted his bare feet firmly against the floorboards, feeling the grain and polish and the crumbs on the floor.

Bowtie pasta with butter, please. Each and every time. And his father’s seemingly impassive face but for his shining, playful eyes, Draco’s own but ones that he’d had first.

There are villages in France where they’ll make you songbirds drowned in wine, and there are roadsides in Sri Lanka where you can drink coconut water sweeter than honey. In Iceland, right now, they’re serving Harry shark skin chips. But every one of those things is second rate, because tonight, Draco cooks for himself.

A satellite map of the planet, a single red ringing dot. An act of gratitude and love, eaten on the counter.

A boy who gives himself exactly what he wants.

[ssgarden]

Unleash Your Garden's Potential: The Power of the Growth Rack

　　Gardening is a rewarding and fulfilling endeavor, but it often comes with challenges, particularly when it comes to space and seasonal limitations. The growth rack, also known as a plant stand or plant shelf, is a powerful tool that can help you overcome these challenges and unleash your garden's full potential.

　　1. What Is a Growth Rack?

　　A growth rack is a structured framework, typically made of metal, wood, or other sturdy materials, designed to provide a controlled and organized environment for plants. It usually consists of multiple shelves or tiers, offering vertical space for plant placement. These racks can be used both indoors and outdoors, making them a versatile solution for gardeners of all levels.

　　2. Benefits of Using a Growth Rack:

　　Space Optimization: Growth racks maximize your growing space by allowing you to grow vertically. This is especially valuable if you have limited horizontal space or want to make the most of a small garden area.

　　Organization: Growth racks provide an organized and efficient way to arrange your plants. You can categorize them based on size, type, or growth stage, making it easier to care for and maintain your garden.

　　Indoor Gardening: For indoor gardeners, growth racks are a game-changer. They allow you to create a thriving indoor garden, extending your growing season and enabling year-round cultivation.

　　Protection: Growth racks provide a level of protection for your plants, shielding them from pests, harsh weather conditions, and potential damage. This protection can lead to healthier and more robust plants.

　　3. Uses of Growth Racks:

　　Growth racks are incredibly versatile and can be used for various gardening purposes:

　　Seed Starting: Use growth racks to start seeds indoors, providing controlled conditions for germination and early growth. Adjustable shelves accommodate different plant heights and growth stages.

　　Transplanting and Hardening Off: Transition seedlings from indoor to outdoor conditions gradually using a growth rack. This process, known as hardening off, prepares them for life in the garden and reduces transplant shock.

　　Vertical Gardening: Grow a wide range of plants vertically on the shelves, including herbs, vegetables, flowers, and succulents. This maximizes space and ensures optimal light exposure.

　　Microgreens and Herbs: Growth racks are ideal for cultivating microgreens, herbs, and small crops indoors, allowing you to have a fresh supply of greens year-round.

　　4. Tips for Making the Most of Your Growth Rack:

　　To optimize the use of your growth rack, consider the following tips:

　　Lighting: Ensure your plants receive adequate light. Depending on your setup, you may need to use supplemental grow lights to provide the right spectrum and intensity, especially for indoor gardening.

　　Air Circulation: Promote good air circulation around your plants by spacing them appropriately and using fans if necessary. This helps prevent mold and fungal issues.

　　Humidity Control: Maintain proper humidity levels within the growth rack, especially in indoor environments. A hygrometer and a humidifier or dehumidifier can help regulate humidity as needed.

　　Watering and Fertilizing: Be vigilant with watering and follow a regular fertilization schedule. Since the plants are in containers, they may require more frequent watering than those in the ground.

　　Organization: Keep your growth rack organized by labeling each plant or tray. This helps you track their progress and ensures you provide the right care to each one.

　　5. Maintenance and Cleaning:

　　Regular maintenance is essential to ensure the longevity and functionality of your growth rack:

　　Cleaning: Periodically clean the shelves, trays, and framework of the growth rack to remove dust, debris, and potential sources of pests.

　　Inspect for Wear: Check the rack's structure, shelves, and supports for signs of wear or damage. Replace any worn or damaged components promptly to maintain stability and safety.

　　In conclusion, a growth rack is a powerful tool that can transform your gardening experience, enabling you to maximize your garden's potential. Whether you're starting seeds, cultivating a thriving indoor garden, or exploring vertical gardening, a growth rack factory offers a space-efficient and organized solution. By following best practices and staying attentive to your plants' needs, you can create a lush and productive garden that flourishes year-round, unleashing your garden's true potential.

[beccascribbles]

seijoh and their love language

physical touch

“tooru,” you gasped, feeling warm arms wrap around your bare skin and a mouth press a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. the water rolled off your body in droplets, and, as you turned to face him, he slipped slightly on the wet floor, catching himself against the wall. this had the added effect of trapping you in front of him. he leant forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“hey,” he greeted, mouth splitting open in that grin you loved so much. it was open, honest, one of the truest smiles he had, and reserved for those he was utterly in love with. you were certain you were one of the only people in the world to be on the receiving end of this smile.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, reaching up a hand to brush his hair from his forehead. the water from the shower head had flattened it, plastering the strands to the smooth surface.

“showering with you,” he shrugged, like it was an everyday occurrence, like he hadn’t just snuck in because he missed your touch so much. he reached over to grab the shampoo from the rack, opening the bottle and squeezing out some of it into the palm of his hand. “turn around.”

you turned, and oikawa’s fingers tangled in your hair, massaging the scalp until the shampoo was lathered. he removed the shower from its’ hook, gently guiding your head back to avoid any shampoo going in your eyes as he washed it from your hair. next, he grabbed the conditioner, repeating the process. you smiled at him, hand reaching out to remove his shampoo from the rack.

“your turn,” you declared, squeezing a small amount into your palm. you rose up on your tiptoes slightly, wobbling as you attempted to wash his hair while also balancing. with a soft chuckle, he bent his knees slightly, surprising you at the sudden change in height.

“sorry,” he laughed softly, placing a kiss to your collarbone. “but it’s easier now, right?”

acts of service

iwaizumi can’t help it. his eyes fall on your sleeping form, a soft smile taking over his features as he brushes a finger along your cheek. you stir slightly in your sleep, and he freezes, hand stopping its slow movement away from you. when he is certain you are still sleeping peacefully, he finally moves, slipping from the bedroom and shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

he knows you’ve had a busy week, working late into the night, and also finding the time to cook dinner most days that week. iwaizumi knows you don’t mind cooking; it’s one of the things you like to do, preparing a meal the two of you can eat together, dinner being the one time in the week where you can really sit down and chat, no distractions.

he grabs the dirty laundry from the basket beside the bathroom, carrying it downstairs where he can start the process of dividing the lights and darks. if you came down to find the white clothes the both of you wore were now a different colour, you would not be happy. his eyebrows furrowed as he held an item of clothing in front of him. it was an odd colour, one that could be considered a mixture of light and dark. taking a chance, he threw it in the dark pile, praying to whoever was listening that his assumption was correct.

switching on the machine went smoothly. iwaizumi wasn’t completely incapable - he had done his own laundry while in america, it was just the added pressure of messing up that made him slightly uncertain. the sound of china rattling and the kettle being switched on alerted him to your presence in the kitchen.

he hovered in the doorway for a moment, watching you as you shuffled around, your hood pulled up over your head. you moved in a daze, reaching up to grab the tea bags and letting out a loud yawn. he stepped forward then, entering the kitchen and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. he let his head rest against yours for a moment before pulling away.

“morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, reaching up to grab his own mug and placing it down beside yours. “have a nice lie in?”

gifts

another holiday, another gift shop.

matsukawa stepped into a gift shop somewhere in paris already knowing what he wanted to buy, what he had brought for you to commemorate every trip you'd been on together. he flicked through the various keyrings, discarding them with ease.

too tacky. too loud. too large.

he finally settled on a delicate, ornate keyring in the shape of the eiffel tower. it may be basic but it recalled fond memories of the trip. you had eaten lunch in the tower's shadow, had seen it rising above the buildings as you walked down the street. it was the view from your hotel window. therefore, it was perfect.

he paid for it with his limited french, stumbling through phrases, certain he'd messed up the pronunciation when the shop assistant snickered. still, he left the shop with it gift-wrapped and his wallet four euros lighter.

matsukawa presented it to you during your last meal in paris, handing it to you across the table with a grin. at least that had solved the mystery of why he had woken up so early, never one to be out of bed before ten if he didn't have to work.

you handled it with care, twisting it at different angles, the candle light catching it and flickering. a small grin tugged at the corners of your lips and you leaned across the table to press them against his. his hand came up to cup your face, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. a stern cough caused you to push away, flustered as you peered around the restaurant. laughing, matsukawa laced his fingers with yours.

"so, do you like it?"

"i love it," you replied, leaning forward once again, this time only letting your lips brush against his jaw.

quality time

you could hardly move, squished into the smallest space you could find as you held your breath. the slightest release of air would alert him to your presence in the room, and you wanted to win. if only you could see the timer... you just needed to remain hidden for five minutes, just five, and hanamaki would turn over his tv privileges to you.

the door to the room you were hidden in creaked open, and heard him step into the room. cupboards were opened as hanamaki moved closer to your hiding place. you tried to make yourself smaller, shuffling backwards. your head hit the wood with a sharp crack and you let out a wince.

"y/n?"

his voice was close now, just outside where you were hidden. he opened the door, peering in. for a moment, he didn't see you. you were huddled right against the side, curled up into a ball. then, his head turned to the side. he declared, "found you!"

"does this mean i have to sit and watch your shit?" you grumbled, crawling out and rubbing the rapidly growing bruise on the back of your head.

"well, it certainly doesn't mean i have to sit and watch yours," he beamed, reaching forward and giving your side a poke.

"don't you have jobs to apply for and interviews to attend?" you quipped, flinching slightly when his fingers dug into your side. a gasping laugh escaped your lips as he began to tickle you.

"and don't you have an actual job to do?" he teased, grinning widening at the way you squirmed in his grasp, trying desperately to tickle him back.

physical touch

kyoutani glared at the people around you, reaching out to grab you and tug you back into his chest. his hand found a home on your waist, fingers sliding beneath the material of your top and resting against your warm skin. you looked up at him, eyebrows raised as you waited for an explanation. his other hand reached up to hold your face, thumb and forefinger gripping your chin as he pulled your face towards him. the kiss was short and fierce, a reminder to all those around you that you were his.

"taro, i need to go," you sighed, reaching up to rest a hand against his cheek. he grumbled in response, and you couldn't help the way your eyes rolled ever so slightly. "you know i've got class soon."

"i know," he said, fingers tightening on your waist. your body was warm against his, a welcome distraction and one that he craved. "one more kiss?"

your hand slipped around the back of his head as you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. kyoutani wasn't satisfied with that, using his hand on your waist to hold you in place and the hand on your face to pull you back in. you surrender to his touch just like you usually did, returning the kiss and pulling away breathless.

"i really need to go," you said, though you were becoming increasingly reluctant to leave. he nodded in response.

"message me when you're done?" he requested, loosening his hold and letting you slip away.

you reached out to give his hand one last squeeze before turning away and throwing over your shoulder, "obviously."

words of affirmation

"i love you," he murmured in the dark, turning to face your sleeping form beside him. your breathing was steady, and he reached out to touch you gently, tracing the lines of your face. he stared down at you in awe, wondering how he could have got so lucky. he let out a deep sigh. "you're so perfect. everything about you. i love it all." 

you stirred in your sleep then, moving closer to him and pressing your face against his side. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as your eyes cracked open and you peered up at him.

"did you say something, yutaro?" you mumbled, voice raspy from sleep. he blushed then, face feeling hot as he repeated what he had admitted earlier.

"i love you."

"love you too," you murmured sleepily, snuggling further into his warmth. already, your eyes were beginning to close again, sleep pulling you back in.

"i love you so much," he continued, his voice lulling you back to sleep. "i love everything about you, every little thing you do. you're perfect for me in every way. i couldn't ask for a better partner."

a soft snore filled the silence of the room, and he lay back down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. a chaste kiss was placed to the nape of your neck before sleep also claimed kindaichi.

quality time

kunimi stifled a yawn, stretching out on the sofa as he listened to you chat. it was around 1am now, a time when he would usually be asleep. however, your conversation was engaging and he felt like he hadn't been able to just spend time with you.

you were always doing something together, going somewhere, but you were never just alone together, no phones, no tv, just each other. kunimi smiled over at you, reaching forward to rest his hand atop yours. you took it, never breaking your flow of conversation.

“kunimi?”

“hmm?” he questioned, blinking over at you. his movements were slow and it was clear he was tired.

“do you want to go to sleep?” you asked, lifting the hand you were holding with your own and pressing a gentle kiss to the surface, letting it fall back into your lap.

he shook his head, smiling blearily at you. “i like listening to you. we haven’t been like this in a while.”

“i guess we have been busy,” you reasoned, letting your head rest against the back of the sofa. “i missed talking to you, akira.”

he nodded his head, moving closer to you and dropping his head on your shoulder. your free hand brushed through his hair, the movement slow and soothing. kunimi urged, “keep talking.”

that was all the prompting you needed to launch into another story from your day, kunimi’s eyes slowly shutting as your voice eased him to sleep.

[xxiaoyang]

i've got you (too) | yangyang (m)

yangyang was the best at reading you. as much as he liked to play around, he was always there when you needed him.

words: 3.5k

warnings/tags: smut, non idol!au, college!au, unprotected sex, breeding?, switch!yangyang but kinda soft dom ig, sub!reader, hurt/comfort, love-making, feelings, fluff

a/n: this is just soft. build up but what’s new, it’s me and i can’t shut up about him. 

yangyang was always good at reading you. he was like that with most people, observant enough to pick up on the mood around him. but with you, some days he may as well be reading your thoughts. at times it's like he knows what you're feeling before or better than you do. when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with hunched shoulders, he knew something was off.

he had finished class earlier, spending the remainder of his afternoon playing games online and eating whatever he could find in the pantry. you guys really needed to go shopping. he made a mental note to chide you about it later, his mischievous self always looking for a way to tease you, even knowing full well he was the one who ate all of the food.

he was sprawled out on the couch waiting for you, mindlessly clicking through youtube videos and watching as the time ticked on. it was now thirty minutes after your last class, and he couldn't stop the slight bit of worry that creeped into his mind.

your apartment was only about eight minutes from campus, having chosen it for that reason, so you should have been home already. and you always let him know when you were held up with work or going to be home later. it wasn't that you couldn't go about your day without letting him know what you were doing, he just worried when he didn't hear from you for a while. this was unusual for you two.

he sat up straight, shaking the negative thoughts out of his mind and checking his messages in case he'd missed one. nothing. that was weird. he decided to send you one and ask how you were doing, but before he could hit send the telltale click of your deadbolt filled his ears, his head snapping over to you, ready to give you an earful.

you walked through the door a second later, turning to lock it and remove your coat and shoes by the rack without a word. yangyang let a smirk curl at his lips and took the opportunity to poke fun at you.

"what took you so long! we ran out of snacks," he teased lightly, "i almost starved."

you turned in his direction, still silent, and it was then he could see the tired look on your face, your shoulders drooping and your legs barely holding you. his smirk was wiped away at the sight of you, his legs already making their way over to you.

he held your shoulders, tilting his head in an attempt to meet your eyes, but they were unfocused as you gazed off into space. he felt his heart crack at how defeated you looked.

"what's wrong, baby? talk to me." he let his hands fuss at you, straightening out your oversized sweater, a few gentle fingers coming to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. you didn't budge. you didn't even seem present in the room. your head stayed lowered in its position. he began to worry that something bad had actually happened.

taking your face into one of his hands he turned you in his direction, checking you for any clues that could help him figure it out. 

"did something happen? did someone do something to you? at least tell me you're okay."

the hint of panic in his voice brought you to your senses, pulling you from your zoned out state to look into his eyes. it was like you hadn't even registered him there. as the warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, his eyes searching yours so intensely, you felt yours sting with tears. tears you didn't realize you were holding back.

that had him springing into action. yangyang was an energetic and playful boy, but he was serious when he needed to be and he knew exactly how to take care of you when you needed him.

"oh baby, come here," he cooed, pulling you into his arms and stroking the back of your head softly. as soon as he did, your arms were clinging to him, your form shaking slightly in his hold. he was sure his heart had broken, your weak sobs making him want to cry too. but he wouldn't, for you.

he waited patiently for you to let it all out, holding you by the door until you were ready to talk. when you sniffled and lifted your head, he brushed the hair from your forehead, staying quiet and giving you room to speak.

"i'm sorry." he knew you were going to apologize, but let you keep going. "i wasn't ignoring you, i was held up after class and i just wanted to come home so badly but he wouldn't let me and i didn't even realize the time."

"was it that professor?" you nodded, yangyang following suit in understanding. the one who always gave you a hard time about your assignments.

"that prick. one of these days i'm going to have to give that old man a talking to," he pouted, earning a giggle and a weak slap on the arm from you. he continued, "i will! i'm not above fighting an old person."

your giggles erupted into a full belly laugh, your bright smile returning to your face, lighting up the room once again. there you were.

he just watched you with his big gummy smile, happy that, for the most part, you were okay and that you were smiling again.

"i was just kidding, by the way, i wasn't actually starving."

you shook your head, scoffing at him. "you can get your own food, you know," you teased back weakly.

he didn't respond, his deep brown eyes boring into you and making you feel small. "well... what do you want to have? it's still a bit early for dinner but we can start to make something. or order something later?" you asked.

yangyang shook his head, his hands holding you by your waist and pulling you closer to him. "i don't really want to eat right now."

your eyebrows furrowed together, "mm, okay. what do you want then?"

he leaned forward until he was flat against you, a hand trailing down your back as he spoke, "just want you. let me make you feel better."

the intent behind his words was made clear to you by his actions, his hand rubbing soothingly into the small of your back and sending a shiver down your spine. he kissed the side of your head down to your neck, stopping before he reached the sensitive skin there.

you felt yourself melting into him, your exhausted brain shutting down at his smooth voice. you felt out of control of yourself. most of all, you felt needy, wanting him more than anything now.

you leaned into him, legs nearly giving out, a small hum in the back of your throat. he smiled to himself, stepping back to place a hand behind your knees and scoop you up into his arms.

you were both shocked and impressed by the action, unaware that he had such strength. the revelation making you feel even smaller in his grasp.

yangyang carried you to your bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed and shifting you into his lap so you were sat across his legs.

one hand traced patterns on your back, his other hand smoothing up and down your thigh. he was waiting you out to make sure you wanted to continue. "are you sure this is okay? if you want we can just cuddle and watch tv or nap. those are good to me too."

your heart clenched at your boyfriend's sweet words, his soft tone breaking you down into a yearning mess for him. the feeling was unfamiliar to you, with you usually having good control of them. you just nodded and hid your face in his chest.

he chuckled and lifted you from his lap to stand you in front of him, his long legs on each side of you. "let's get these off of you."

his movements were slow and calculated as he pulled your sweater over your head. he was treating you like fragile china that would shatter in his hands at any moment. it only made you weaker. with the same carefulness he removed your bottoms, leaving you bare in front of him while he was still fully clothed.

you felt like you had been put under a microscope, acutely aware of his gaze as his eyes wandered over every curve and dip of your body. if the pure adoration wasn't so present in his eyes, you might have felt a bit self-conscious. the only thing you felt was the overwhelming desire for him to take you right there.

you were having trouble finding your words, unsure of what you even wanted to say, so you just tugged at the bottom of his hoodie hoping he'd get the hint.

he grinned, that mischievous grin you'd come to love, and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, his toned chest and arms on display for your glazed over eyes. you were barely thinking anymore, just feeling. the heaviness of the atmosphere weighed on you, making you crave him more.

your hands flew to smooth skin, fingers trailing over his prominent collar bones to his shoulders that had gotten bigger in recent months. he shivered when you dragged your nails down his abdomen, feeling up every part of him.

it wasn't usually like this. you and yangyang were pretty much always on the same wavelength, being more inclined to have fun and be less serious when you were having sex, even trying new things in a space that was more lighthearted. but this was different. this was much deeper. it was so intimate.

you felt yourself growing more timid, which was another first. your dynamic with him was different, as well, you being the one who was more experienced and typically leading. it alternated back and forth between you two, yangyang's ability to read people being very helpful for times when you didn't feel like being in control. but even in those times, you still had control - over yourself. now you just felt vulnerable and dazed. if it weren't yangyang making you feel that way, it would have terrified you.

but the boy, with his big sparkly eyes that were looking up at you now, only filled your heart with warmth, no fear present. without realizing it you had crawled back into his lap, fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans in a lazy attempt to undo it.

he laughed from deep in his chest, amused by the far off look on your face as you fumbled your way around him. he kept his comments to himself, only pressing his lips to your forehead and pushing his pants down his hips.

when you didn't make a move to let him take them off, he lifted you in his arms once again, flipping you slowly and laying you under the plush blanket.

he knew your mind was shutting off and it had his chest swelling with fullness to know he made you comfortable enough to get that way. you were always the responsible one, so often shouldering the burdens and taking care of him on top. you rarely let your guard down, even with him at times. it took him a while just to get you to open up to him in the beginning. but even at your most vulnerable, you always maintained control.

to be able to see those walls come down and for you to allow yourself to. to put enough trust in him to have total control over you made his heart pound behind his ribs. he wanted to be everything you needed, everything you were to him. to make you feel special and cared for and safe. he knew it would take a while, and now that it's here, he feels so full. full of love for you. and he just wants to show that to you.

yangyang quickly tore off his jeans and crawled up to you on the bed, leaving a trail of kisses up your leg, over your stomach and chest all the way to your lips, molding his together with yours and warming you from the inside out.

tugging at the blankets beneath you to pull them up, he moved so you both were under the covers, and settled himself between your legs on top of you.

he looked down at you with such fondness in his eyes, taking in every small detail and gracing every spot with a kiss as he went. the adoration he felt for you was immeasurable, all consuming. you were so special to him. you understood him and complimented him in a way no one else could, always making him feel loved and seen. now he could return the gesture. 

yangyang lowered himself and kissed you with all the emotions he couldn’t contain, something so tender and full of passion. the warmth that was radiating from him was so overwhelming you could cry right there. but you just kissed him back, meeting him in that place and returning his devotion.

he held you close in his embrace, a hand wandering down your stomach to your side and rubbing at your hipbone with his thumb. his fingers danced across your thigh to your core, met with the slick heat of your folds. he parted them with a finger, spreading your wetness up and down, kissing you all the while. his tongue brushed against yours in slow, focused motions. he let his finger slide back down, dipping into your entrance and making you gasp on his lips. 

he slid his finger into you all the way, curling it and drawing broken whines from you. yangyang moved back and began crawling down between your legs and your hands flew to him, grabbing at his shoulders to stop him.

you shook your head, clinging to him, “don’t need to. want you inside.”

he froze, stomach flipping at your demure tone as he returned to his spot over you. “okay, baby, let me grab a condom-”

“no,” you held his arms, lifting your hips to meet his untended erection, “want you like this, if that’s okay.”

he crashed his lips against yours, nodding and moaning into you, his need for you just as intense. he used a hand to trace along your slit with his length, coating himself in your essence before pressing the tip to your opening. slowly he pushed into you, your muscles loosening to accommodate his width. the defined edges of his head rubbed against your walls deliciously as he inched himself into you further, the feeling already too much for you in this state. 

he stilled, lips parting from yours to search your eyes for any discomfort, finding none. you pulled him back to you and encouraged him with a small thrust of your hips. without hesitation he pushed the rest of his length into you, bottoming out and reaching a place inside you that had your body humming with satisfaction. he was so close, you could feel every detail of him, hot and twitching in your center. you thought for a second that you could even stay like this, but you wanted more of him. 

when you wiggled your hips, he got the hint, laughing through his nose where his lips were pressed to your jaw. “tell me how you want it, baby.”

“don’t care. just want to feel you deep inside.” 

he couldn’t help but find you adorable and stroked your cheek, pushing aside the feelings that arose in him to focus on you. yangyang lifted himself on his arms and pulled out of you, thrusting back into you with a force that had you arching off the bed. 

lowering his head to your chest, he kissed your breast so softly you almost didn’t register it, a whimper escaping when he took your nipple between his lips.

he paid special attention to all of your sensitive areas, making sure to cover every part of you with his affection, while rolling his hips into you in a slow rhythm. it wasn’t like you to just lie and take it, you always wanted to make him feel good too. but you were sure that if it weren’t involuntary, you wouldn’t even be breathing right now. 

yangyang returned to your lips, pouring himself into you and giving you all that he could. he was losing himself in you already, quickly coming undone from the velvet feel of you wrapped around him so tightly. he wanted to be as close to you as possible, to be one with you. he increased his speed, pumping into you harder trying to get as much friction as he could for the both of you.

each thrust sent shivers across your skin. he was thrusting into you so hard you swore you could feel it in your womb. the thought had you bringing your legs up around him to hold him closer, all sorts of primal desires swimming in your mind. 

he shifted in your hold, hitting that sweet spot in you with his next thrust and ripping a cry from your throat. at your reaction he picked up the pace, now pounding into you and rendering you a moaning, panting mess. you’d never felt this good before, feeling the heat pooling in your core and building up with pressure. 

you felt like you were drifting away from yourself, from reality. you couldn’t hear any outside sounds or see anything besides the white taking over your vision. you weren’t even thinking. all of your senses were overtaken by one thing; yangyang. your body ached with the need to feel him even deeper inside of you. you wanted him to push himself into you as far as he could and plant his seed there. you wanted him to mark you on the inside, in the deepest, most intimate way. it was all you could think.

"please,” your voice sounded separate from you, struggling to form the words, “please fill me. want you to fill me up. make me yours.” 

yangyang felt like his arms were going to give out on him, the meaning of what you said flashing in his mind and making him quake from deep within. you two had always played it safe, even though you were on birth control, he would always pull out and finish somewhere else. hearing you ask for him to finish inside you had his control slipping, his movements growing sloppier as he chased that feeling.

he crashed his lips against yours, nodding and moaning against you. his hips drilled into you and had you tightening around him, the feeling drawing airy moans from his lips. the air was permeated with the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breathing, but the only thing he could focus on was your sweet voice. 

lowering himself onto his elbows he slid his hands under your back, hugging you and burying his face in your neck as he felt himself nearing the edge. “you gonna come for me, baby? let go all over my dick while i fill you up?” 

you whined and rut your hips up into his, dragging your nails across his back and making him hiss. you nodded, pleading with him to keep going, to give it to you, that being the only thought you could form. “i’m-” 

everything went white, then seeped into a warm gold like sunlight pouring over you, your body as weightless as a fluffy cloud floating in the sky. the only thing keeping you on earth being yangyang’s touch and his smooth voice as he reached his high immediately after you, burying himself in you and filling you in your deepest part. 

yangyang moaned against your neck as he rode out his high, lightly bucking his hips and milking himself in you, giving you every last drop in him. 

you felt his cum in spurts, spilling into you and spreading heat to your womb. you’d never felt anything like it before. you felt full. you felt whole. and you felt absolutely weightless as you came down from your high, your senses flooded as you drifted back into the room. 

when you opened your eyes you were met with the dim light pouring in from the living room and yangyang resting his head on your shoulder. everything seemed to have a rosy tint to your eyes, the room glowing faintly pink. 

yangyang raised his head to look at you, a small smile coming to his lips and making him look like the cute boy you had fallen for some time ago. the sparkle in his eyes made your heart skip and you pulled him in for a kiss, melting into his touch. he let himself drop onto you, still seated inside of you. 

when it came to yangyang, everything else fell away. there was nothing that took over your mind more than him. nothing that you made feel as whole as you did now. as complete as you did, just having him this close. you felt you could stay like this with him forever. 

[putseraphinaonthaphone]

Chromatic

Classical Pianist Katsuki Bakugou has a favorite coffee shop on the short walk from his studio back to his apartment. It's small, 24 hours, and has a stage that's always free for musicians to use. And it's run by you, a would be musician who's a better baker and coffee maker-that he can't stop coming back to see.

@nanamisbento & @hanji-is-life both made a world of difference in making me feel confident enough to write this as a full drabble, so thank y'all <3 y'all are sweethearts and I love this au so muchhhh

~light angst, slow burn, black!queer!reader, musician au~

"Cross my heart hope to die, I ain't got no love to give," you plucked at the guitar strings lazily your eyes focused on nothing but the strings and trying not to cry- and if felt like your alto voice was fighting through gravel. Huskier than normal, verging on tenor like you always dreamed about, and you were too fucking sad to enjoy it.

You missed your friend, you missed talking to him. Teasing him, making him laugh. And worse, you knew the home he went back to wasn't the healthiest. You knew all too well how a house could be so much worse than the stress of school.

"Baby boy so goddamn fine, swear you give me a peace of mind," and it was true. Just being near him, talking about poetry, anything, made you feel so calm. Fuck you missed him.

"Swear you make this young girl go crazy," If some tears fell onto your fretboard at least it was late enough that no one would come in until the morning rush.

"Now how could a man like you want somebody, so incredibly immature, insecure just like me?" Because he was just as insecure as you. It's why you two would talk on the phone for hours on end, about all your fears and worries, as much as your happiness. He was the friend you could talk about the lowest lows with because neither of you were afraid or unfamiliar with rock bottom- mentally, emotionally.

You slipped the strap of your electric guitar over your head and put it back on the rack (you left it out for musicians of all kinds to play when they felt inspired by your shop's vibes) and wiped your aching eyes. You didn't see or hear Bakugou slip back out the side door he'd came in through.

~

He'd first started coming in April, when the Washington rain was too torrential not to seek cover. He'd walked in soaking wet and spitting curses as he shut the door behind him. Ash blond hair and garnet eyes plus a jawline you'd cut yourself on meant you were half way infatuated before he even ordered.

"Black coffee with extra raw sugar, and whatever bread you have that's not sweet." It was a rumbling bass of a voice and damnit now you were officially in love- but then you noticed a case that you guessed carried an electric keyboard by the shape at his feet and in your excitement (that distracted you from his stunningly pretty face enough you could talk to him without tripping over your words like you were sure you were going to when you first came to take his order) you grinned at him so genuinely he forgot he was pissed.

"Sure thing, but just so you know- we have a permanent open mic set up here. You can play whatever instruments of mine you'd like to use, or you could set up your keyboard. It's great to see more musicians in here." You meant it, he could see in the way you seemed to light up like fireworks just talking about it.

"..Maybe next time." He tried to say hell no I'm never coming back to this tiny ass shop, do you know the size of the stages I usually play?!

But how could he regret his grumbled words when you clutched your small notepad to your chest and asked him in a rush (with a sparkle in your big doe brown eyes that didn't match your shaved head or heavy silver rings and earrings but was adorable nonetheless) "You mean it? You'd play here?"

It wasn't the same eagerness of ochestral directors prepared to embarrass themselves for a chance for The Katsuki Bakugou, classical pianist prodigy, to play with their ensembles. It was just a person who loved music and ran a tiny well cared for shop that was full of second hand furniture and mismatch cutlery and china, that was excited at the thought of music being played at all.

"Why not? I could play some of my own compositions for once instead of another goddamn Bach piece." You must have been imagining the blush on his cheeks because it was gone in seconds, and he was glaring at you with only the slightest of smiles taking the sting out of his words. "But am I going to get that coffee before I catch a cold from the fucking rain currently soaking my fucking clothes?"

Now it was your turn to feel heat burning in your cheeks as you sheepishly saluted "Right, coffee," and ran back to your bar to start his order. You found some fresh plain yeast rolls on the top shelf of your display case and an old towel in your supply closet. And if you didn't think about how much of a dork you made of yourself in front of your hottest customer to date your hands didn't shake when you put together his coffee in the largest cup you could find.

"Least sweet bread I have, black coffee with a fuck ton of raw sugar.." You winked to (hopefully) let the blond know you were kidding, "and a towel to make sure you'll survive long enough to play for me sometime."

He snorted and snatched the towel from your hands, starting to rub it vigorously over his hair with a blatant lack of fucks for how fluffy and wild it made it hair, but it seemed to you that there was humor in his voice as he sighed, "That depends on how good your shitty coffee is."

~

He started coming in on the regular after that. Sometimes dressed in a suit, that he was all but ripping off until he could roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt and unbutton the collar so he could breathe. (The first time you saw the bare column of his throat and the obvious strength of his chest meeting the delicate structure of his collar bones, you had to blame lifting heavy bags of coffee beans for your breathlessness.)

Sometimes he came from the opposite direction, dressed in jeans and old tshirts when it finally started warming up. He brought in his keyboard on those days and played a range of compositions you knew were his without him having to tell you. His left hand was more comfortable in the lower octaves of his keyboard when it was his own work, and there was more grief mixed in the bombastic anger that fueled the more staccato and forte phrases that had everyone in the small shop falling quiet to listen. Because it wasn't just hammering at the keys, it was complex harmonies of thirds and major sevenths that haunted the air even as he was moving on to the next phrase that was more of a murmur of echoing themes that passed back from hand to hand.

But your favorite times to see him was during your night shifts, when the shop was mostly deserted except for your quieter night owl regulars. Then he'd play pieces that were.. lullabies. Soft melodies and less minor chords than his daylight pieces. He'd take breaks in between pieces to come talk to you at the bar, ask your opinion on his playing- the genuine way he listened to your comments and compliments making your heart melt more than his good looks could have done alone.

And some nights, especially when it rains, he's telling you about the superficial nature of the classical music world and how sometimes he wishes he'd never gone into orchestral piano and just stayed in his old tiny but cozy apartment.

"Maybe we would've met anyway, and you'd still have this place and I'd come play for scraps on the weekends." And damn the wistfulness hits him hard, you can see it in the way his eyes soften for the first time in knowing him.

"I wouldn't let you play for scraps, it's tiny but it's my place. And your music would only add to the atmosphere. You'd get full employee wages and free coffee on the house." You're wistful too, and maybe it's the rain but you'd love for this dream to be real. Even for a moment.

~

You were sure you'd actually walk into being head over heels in love if he did one more sweet thing for you with his signature grumble and glare. But it was weird, ever since a few weeks back he'd stopped coming by as often. Looked at you strange when you teased him like you were both used to, and played pieces with more anger and sorrow than you'd ever heard from him before.

It was turning into the longest you hadn't seen him by the end of the week, so you were fucking furious when he strolled in one night.

Obviously coming from one of his bigger performances with the coattails and tuxedo tie, but no smile to show for it. Not even smugness in his eyes from a performance well done. He looked a little like shit actually, dark circles under his eyes and something indescribably sad in his garnet gaze that sought you out as soon as he walked in. It was the only thing that stopped you from completely ignoring his order when he came to the bar.

But you couldn't stop the obvious way your jaw was clenched while you worked, the hurt in your eyes when you set his coffee down in front of him.

He said your name, low and questioning, confusion growing on his perfect stupid face and that's when you couldn't take it anymore. He looked like shit, but you felt it. Losing one friend in a year was more than enough heart break for you. Having a friend, who you were already half in love with, start ghosting you on top of that? You weren't strong enough to take the highroad.

"Don't you fucking dare look at me like you don't understand. I don't understand why you decided our friendship doesn't mean shit to you anymore. If you were going to fucking ghost me I would've preferred if you'd done so before I started waiting for you to come by." You were glad no one was in the shop but the two of you when you realized somewhere along the line of yelling at him you started crying. Kat was looking at you with his mouth open in shock, and you didn't want to wait around to drag out your embarrassment.

But you were surprised when he came after. Calling your name again, moving quickly to get around the counter to follow you.

"Wait. Wait." His hand grabbed your wrist, the first time he touched you with no pretenses or excuses. The strength and gentleness of his hold only making it harder to stop your tears.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." You almost wished he'd go back to his more brash daylight self, you can't handle how quiet and gentle he gets in the early morning hours. Your heart was too soft on him already- even in your anger, you didn't resist when he pulled you close and cupped your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears.

"You were crying that night too, when you were playing. I'd never heard you sing before." His fingers were on your lips, silencing you before you could even ask what the hell he was talking about. It was too much. Being unable to escape the way his eyes watched you, the way his voice got quiet- confessional.

"Let me finish. I heard you sing, and I saw you cry, and the thought of you crying for another man made me so angry I thought I'd die from how much I hated him. Whoever he was. So I stopped coming by as often. I didn't know that would hurt you.. I didn't think you would care if you were still heartbroken over some asshole." It was starting to make sense, starting to make you hope that maybe.. maybe he felt the same way you did.

"I get heartbroken over friends you know. Just friends." Your words are slightly muffled by his fingers, but its worth it to see the hope flare to life in his eyes.

How had you both missed it? All these months of longing.

"But the way you broke my heart by just not coming by? When I didn't even know what was wrong? That's worse than anything I've ever felt before-"

Your first kiss with Katsuki was salty from your tears, but it was okay.

He wanted your tears, your lips, you to be his and only his.

~

[danny-chase]

Breaking a Promise - Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), The New Titans (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Dick Grayson/Joseph Wilson Characters: Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Joseph Wilson Additional Tags: tw for self harm, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Angst, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon Divergence, emotional breakdown, Broken Bones, description of injury, star crossed lovers, Flowers, Canonical Character Death, it's Joey guys, I'm Sorry, Swearing, lot of f bombs, POV Dick Grayson, Dick grayson centric, Dick Grayson is bi, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Discowing, Dick Grayson Needs Therapy, Dick Grayson Whump, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, a little bit of fluff near the top, Gardening, when your gf is poly and ships you with someone else, Heartbreak, Heartache, no beta we die like -sobs- Joey, Hurt/Comfort, and then hurt/no comfort to follow it up Series: Part 5 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Dick Grayson has his heartbroken twice.

Full story under cut

Two years ago:

“Dick, what about this one?” Kor’i smiled sweetly, positively glowing in the sun. She gestured to a little potted plant sitting in the shade of the bottom rack. Her hair fluttered in the wind, seeming to sweep up his heart as well. Crouching, he gently bumped her shoulder, and she nudged him back. Perfect.

 “Why don’t we look over there?” Dick asked, pointing over to another shelf.

 “But I like this one.” She pouted, puffing out her bottom lip slightly. He glanced at the little sprout she picked out, his mind happily buzzing as he identified it without looking at the tag – botany lessons with Alfred had paid off.

 “Lamprocapnos spectabilis.” He began. Kor’i nuzzled her head on his shoulder, reaching out a hand to stroke the leaves. He grabbed the little tag sticking out of the pot. “This one is of the Valentine variety.”

 “Mmm.” She rested her hand back on Dick’s thigh, warmth spreading from the spot. “Tell me more.” He swallowed and complied.

 “They’re a perennial – they come back annually. They like full or partial shade, and are native to Siberia, Japan, northern China, and Korea.”

 “How big will it get?” She asked, rising to her feet, carrying the plant with her.

 “About yay high.” He spread his hands two feet. “But Kor’i, uh, I can’t just give that to Joey it’s-”

 “Commonly known as the bleeding heart?” She smiled mischievously. “I don’t see why not, your heart bleeds all the time.” She innocently widened her eyes, batting her eyelashes. “Or is it because it symbolizes love? Do you not love him?” Doubt was as clear in her voice as it was in her face.

 “I-” He stammered; he would never cheat. “I love you.” Heat rose to his face. “Only you.”

 Kor’i was perfect, she was so loving, always building him up, never tearing him down. Always healing, nurturing, growing seeds of her own – not just in him, she seemed to bring out the best in everyone she met. People basked in her beauty, and he simply basked in the knowledge of her presence. In being loved so fully, so openly and honest. Dick didn’t know if he could ever love anyone more.

 “Oh.” Kor’i looked thoughtfully at the clear cerulean sky. “I wouldn’t mind if you… loved someone else too.” He frowned.

 “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did, but Kor’i, you’re the only one for me.” He stood, lightly pecking her on the cheek. She grinned, grabbing his hand, dragging him towards the checkout line.

 “I like this one, forget silly earth symbolisms, Joey would love it.”

 Dick sighed, following along anyways – she was right, of course, she always was – Joey would love the flowers, they were pals after all, he wouldn’t read too much into it.

   One year ago:

A cool breeze snaked its way over the hillside, finding its way around the rock at his back and through his hair – leaving him disheveled in its wake. A chill rain up his spine, goosebumps swiftly decorating his arms. He could feel his hair slowly rise up, standing in a desperate bid to retain heat.

 Dick wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, knees tucked to his chest, head resting on his crossed arms. Too long likely. He should be back to the tower soon – he didn’t want anyone to worry, but after the mess on Tamaran, it was best for him to be alone right now.

 He was just… so tired. He’d already destroyed half his punching bags trying to fight the emotion out – which had worked to some extent, leaving his hands throbbing and arms burning. He sprinted as far as he could go before his legs gave out. It had dulled the anger and pain, leaving him worn out and exhausted. The dull ache in his chest returned just as soon as it had left.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the night sky – he’d come out here for comfort – to watch the waves lap against the rocks from far above and gaze up at the stars. But the stars could never shine brighter than Kor’i, only serving to remind him of what he’d lost when he’d ventured too close to the sun.

 It wasn’t fair – Kor’i hadn’t loved Karras though they were together – legally bound, and he was here, light years spanning the distance between those bound by their souls.

 He never believed in love in first sight. Not until he’d met her.

 He’d always believed in love, though, from the time he was a child – his parents were living proof. It was foolish – his parents had died hadn’t they? Believing in their love until the bitter end, loving their lives, each other, him. It was love that kept them on the trapeze all those years, and that love had killed them.

 He sighed, maybe Bruce was right – love wasn’t something compatible with their lifestyle. He never shared himself so fully with others or lost himself so fully either. Always playing cat and mouse with his lovers, never committing, communing with another soul the way he had with Kor’i.

 He licked his chapped lips, tasting salt in the air. Light footsteps padded towards him. He curled further in on himself, not in the mood to talk. A rough woolen blanket dropped over his shoulders.

 It smelled like crisp green apples, mixed with a hint of cinnamon.

 Adeline Wilson had great tastes in laundry detergent – something she’d handed down to her son.

 Joey crouched next to him, wrapping an arm around him, offering warmth and comfort. Dick hesitated, mind screaming to recoil, run away – be alone and repress, but heart yearning for the warmth and comfort he always seemed to find in Joey. That same warmth reminded him of Kor’i.

 The desire for comfort won out, loosening up, he leaned against Joey’s shoulder. Joey’s chin nestled into the base of his neck; soft puffs of warm, wet air sent tingles down his spine. He raised his head a little dislodging Joey, feeling weirdly uncomfortable – but not displeased – just – he’d think about that later, now wasn’t the time.

 Joey quickly backed off, removing his arm. Dick gave him a side glance and for a moment, lost himself in kind emerald eyes. <em>He isn’t Kor’i</em>. Why was that so hard to remember?

 It took him a minute to process Joey signs. ‘Your hands.’ He followed his gaze down to his numb fingers. Upon seeing them he was hit by the realization they hurt like hell. He probably should have remembered to wear gloves, or at least wrap them, before taking his frustration out on punching bags.

 His right hand had swollen, both had bruises blossoming, his skin rubbed raw, blood freely dripping from busted knuckles.

 “Fuck.” He’d be out of the game for at least a month, if he was right about his right pinky – that was a boxer’s fracture. Tendrils of pain crawled out from the spot, his hands throbbing in time to his pulse. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that – the Titan’s needed him!

 Joey squeezed his upper arm, ‘let’s go’, he suggested, rising to his feet. Dick bit his lip, internally cursing himself for being such a dumbass. He shakily rose to his feet, immediately hit by a wave of exhaustion. Which in hindsight – he probably shouldn’t have sprinted until he dropped either.

 Joey wrapped an arm around his waist, bending slightly to stand under his shoulder and steadying him as the blanket slipped over his shoulders. They left it were it lay – more pressing matters to attend to, but Dick shivered in the cool night without it. He took a few wobbling steps forward – and dumb – his knees gave out.

 He never came close to the ground, instead, finding himself lifted into a princess carry. Joey smiled apologetically, with a little shrug. Dick sighed; this was embarrassing. He was eighteen – he should know better – Bruce had taught him better!

 “It’s fine, thanks.” He ignored how rough his voice sounded, instead concentrating on the throbbing from his hands, using the pain to block out the ache in his chest. He focused his gaze forward, not thinking about how close he was to Joey, how Kor’i used to carry him this way, how Joey smelled like honeysuckle and lilac, how this was everything he missed – and he just prayed he wasn’t falling in love again – he couldn’t be, no – he just... he was projecting. He just missed Kor’i.

 He ignored Donna’s concerned eyebrow raise as they passed her on the way back to the tower. Gar’s whistle as they crossed the living room. The way Joey was so delicate when placing him in the passenger seat of the helicopter, so careful to avoid eye contact, so mindful of his pride.

 In the brighter lighting he noticed stark red against Joey’s golden curls. A flower from a bleeding heart had made its way into Joey’s hair. There were gardening gloves in his back pocket

 His heart sped up as they took off, he felt weirdly lighter than before – though perhaps he was just dizzy from pain. Joey stared at him, his eyes darker than before, brow set determinedly, but looking pained and a bit melancholic.

 “What’s wrong?” Dick asked, feeling guilty for ruining whatever gardening project Joey had evidently come from. A lot was wrong, he was wrong, was asking a stupid question.

 The tips of Joey’s lips curled into a frown. ‘Do not do that again’ he pointed at Dick’s broken hands.

 Dick shrugged, it was a dumb move, he couldn’t guarantee he’d never break his hand again. He shifted his gaze back through the window. Joey tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Promise.’ Well, if it would keep Joey happy, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

 “I promise.” He wouldn’t break his hand as long as he never broke his heart.

   Now.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t lack self-awareness. He knew how to bottle his feelings into a jar, create a vacuum seal, and tuck them away on a shelf. The thing was, he also knew eventually he had to deal with the things he compartmentalized.

 It had been a month since Joey died. He’d been putting it off. But today…

 The bleeding heart had wilted.

 The jar fell to the floor and shattered, his heart disintegrating into a million shards with it.

 A watering can joined the broken glass on the floor, before he knew what was happening, he was running from Joey’s garden, not knowing where he was going, not sure of his surroundings. His vision narrowed, relying on muscle memory and reflex to avoid crashing.

 Crashing was a good way to describe this.

 He was right there. Looked Joey in the eyes. Watched him become twisted and never even noticed that his beloved friend was going through things no one should ever go through, slowly destroyed from within, suffocating from a painfully sluggish death before Slade made the final move.

 “FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCK!” Birds flapped away as he screamed at the sky, at the world for letting this happen. Joey never knew – he never told him – was too scared that this would – that he would –

 WHY DID THINGS HURT SO MUCH HE SWORE NOT TO LOVE ANYONE LIKE HER AGAIN-

 *CRACK*

 He broke a tree, feeling bone snap against splintered bark.

 He froze, staring at his right pinky, and laughed.

 So much for promises.

 Laughs turned to sobs, knees buckling as he fell to the forest floor – sitting on his heels before flopping to his back. Staring up at the baby blue sky, cumulus clouds drifted by without a care in the world, laughing at him, mocking him from the high heavens.

 Tears flowed freely, nature as the only witness.

 His heart wasn’t supposed to break like this, he’d locked it away long ago, he wasn’t supposed to care about people like this anymore, that wasn’t in the fucking plan. He’d restrained himself, time and time again, turned down offers, avoided hanging out – he did everything he was supposed to do to not fall in love again.

 And absolutely none of it mattered.

 Love had mattered – fuck love for being like this – fuck Bruce for making him believe he could live like him – fuck the world – fuck Joey – fuck Kor’i – fuck everything. Fuck whoever he was supposed to be, his training, his painstaking control of his emotions.

 He pounded the ground with his good hand, promises could be broken, but he wouldn’t break – not today – he didn’t have time. He could be dead today, next week, fuck – half the Titans were dead, Jason was dead, he couldn’t waste time like this - his life was going to be short.

 His life was going to fucking short and he needed to pull himself together – he had family to get back to. He had people he loved – if his heart was going to break anyways – he was so FUCKING stupid.

 Drowning in regret, he slammed the ground again, hard enough for the shockwaves to jar his broken hand. Feeling pain was better than feeling this – because fuck – fuck – he loved Joey. He loved Joey and Kor’i and they were both gone and nothing was okay anymore. Joey never even knew. Never even knew – and it was all his fault – and he never knew how much he mattered – never knew how when he smiled it everything around him dulled in comparison or how when they talked it was like he had known him his all life.

 He never knew.

 And would never know.

 He focused on taking painful breaths sobbing himself silly, laughing till he couldn’t breathe, and crying until he couldn’t feel. Time passed in a vacuum, hysteria waxing and waning until he ran out of tears to cry.

 He rolled over, pressing himself up, wiping his face on his shirt, ignoring the familiar pain creeping up his arm.

 He made a new promise because well, fuck the last one didn’t work out so he might as well start over. Giant pines towered over him standing tall as silent witnesses. He swore on the living along with the dead, any that would listen really – he didn’t care - he couldn’t keep living like this.

 “Whoever I love will know.” He whispered the words as a sacred oath, finding an odd sense of solace. He paused, letting the words hang in the air as if imbuing them with some sort of power.

 Stumbling forward, he made his way back home.

[raywritesthings]

Sin and Celebration

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Sin Lance (aka not Arrow’s version), Oliver Queen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel and her young charge inspire and attend the Queens' holiday party. Notes: AU where after Oliver leaves at the end of season 1, instead of falling into drinking and pills as a coping mechanism, Laurel instead puts her energy towards taking in one of the orphans from the Glades left without a home, thus introducing the character of Sin (and a more comics-accurate version of Sin at that) into the Arrowverse as Laurel's adoptive daughter/ward. *Can be read on AO3, link is in bio*

Another long day, or maybe it just felt that way thanks to it getting darker earlier and earlier most nights. Laurel had left the office to pick Sin up from school, and the two of them had gotten dinner out. She was trying more to cook at home, but some days Laurel just wanted the opportunity to relax with her young charge. Spending time with Sin, watching the small girl slowly start to open up more, was one of the few remaining bright spots in her life, and truthfully it had kept her going.

By the time they got back to the apartment, Laurel was ready to put the girl to bed and call it a night, but Sin tugged on Laurel’s hand just before they could cross the threshold. “Laurel, how come we don’t have one?”

“Have one what, sweetie?” Laurel asked, looking back as Sin pointed to the wreaths hanging on most of her neighbors’ doors. Come to think of it, Sin had been looking around with big eyes at all the lights and the big tree downtown, too. “Oh. Well, the neighbors must have decorated for Christmas.”

“But you don’t?”

They walked inside, and Laurel set her purse aside, shrugging out of her coat before crouching down to help Sin out of hers. “Not really. That’s okay though, isn’t it?”

She worried her lip. Being that Sin was originally from China, she ought to have done some research into holidays important to her culture; just because Laurel didn’t bother to celebrate any of the milestones she’d grown up knowing didn’t mean she wanted to rob Sin of that experience.

Sin shrugged. “I don’t mind. There was a little tree at the orphanage, and some of the kids said they used to get presents. I don’t get what it’s gotta do with a baby being born, but the lights and stuff were pretty.”

Laurel found herself smiling a little, even as her heart gave a sad sort of twinge. The baby she associated the most with Christmas hadn’t lain in a manger, but Sara was no more present than the son of God.

She supposed it didn’t hurt decorating a little and getting Sin presents. The holiday was so commercialized anyway, and her charge had clearly already been exposed to it. “Okay. How about tomorrow, we’ll take a look around the shops and you can pick out what we should put up around the apartment?”

That was what found Laurel out at the stores bright and early on her day off, wandering up and down aisles of tinsel, green branches and red ribbons. Sin’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she hunted for the perfect wreath for their door. Laurel was happy to let her take the lead, feeling pretty out of depth herself.

Keeping her eyes on the young girl meant that Laurel didn’t quite see the person around the corner until they crashed shoulders. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s okay. Hey,” Oliver replied, a smile lighting his face as he took in her appearance. 

Laurel found herself smiling back. “Hey.”

Things had become less awkward between them ever since Laurel had recused herself from his mother’s case once Moira had rejected the plea deal and had been set to be charged with the death penalty.

“I’m sorry, Adam, but I can’t expose Sin to something like this,” she had told her boss. “She’s curious about everything to do with my work.” Truthfully, Laurel herself didn’t favor the death penalty after her experience with Peter Declan last year, and she’d been grateful to get out of having to prosecute a woman she had known since her childhood.

In the present, Oliver smiled down at Sin and returned her shy wave. “What are you ladies up to today?”

“Shopping for decorations,” she answered.

His eyebrows rose up his forehead. “Wow, that’s a change.”

Laurel gave a half-hearted eyeroll. “What about you?”

“The same, actually. I’m hosting a party at the manor for my mother. Well, it’s a Christmas party, too, but I wanted to celebrate her being home with us.”

Laurel nodded. As unbelievable as Moira’s acquittal had been, she was happy for Oliver and Thea that they hadn’t had to face that loss.

“A party?” Sin asked at her side.

“Yeah, Ollie’s family has a party each year,” Laurel told her.

“Can we go? I’ve never been to a Christmas party.”

“Uh,” Laurel said, an awkward laugh leaving her. She patted Sin’s shoulder gently. “It’s not polite to invite yourself over to someone else’s home, honey.”

“That’s okay. Of course, you both are invited,” Oliver immediately excused. “Actually… that’s really not a bad idea, making it a family thing. Isabel, my co-CEO, she doesn’t feel I’ve done a lot to endear myself to the board,” he explained. “Maybe I ought to try getting to know them more as people, mothers and fathers. It’s my family’s company, it should feel like a family.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Laurel told him. She knew he’d had some missteps early on with assuming the role — and Sebastian’s early attacks against him certainly hadn’t helped any — but she was glad to see him still trying.

“Laurel,” Sin said, tugging on her coat. She pointed to a wreath hanging just over Ollie’s shoulder. “That one.”

“Yeah?”

Sin nodded. Oliver reached and plucked it off the rack, holding it out.

“There you go.”

“Thanks. Okay, I think we just need a tree, and that should about do it,” Laurel decided. “You’ll send me the party details?”

“Yep,” Oliver agreed. “Uh, Laurel,” he called out before they’d gotten four steps back down the aisle. “The trees are outside.”

“I’m just grabbing a boxed one,” she admitted, looking back over her shoulder in time to see his crestfallen expression.

“But it’s Christmas. You have to have a real tree.”

Sin looked up at her with those pleading eyes Laurel was really starting to suspect her young charge had a lot more control over than she let on. She let out a sigh.

“Come on, I’ll help you get it loaded onto the car.” Oliver actually ended up coming over to help carry the thing up to their apartment and get it in place in the tree stand, then a call on his phone had him excusing himself to let them do the decorating. She followed Sin’s instructions on where to hang the ornaments on the higher branches and even lifted the girl up so she could put the star on top. Her budget didn’t love how much they’d spent today, but it was worth it for the smile on Sin’s face. It was a sight becoming more common as the months passed, but Laurel always felt a swell of pride that she managed to put it there. If she could make this one child happy, then maybe it hadn’t been a mistake that she’d survived the Undertaking when so many — when Tommy — hadn’t.

The night of the Queen’s party arrived, and Laurel led Sin up the steps after handing her keys off to the valet. She waved off the attendant coming to take their coats. “It’s okay, we can do it.” Sin liked knowing where her possessions were at all times, part of growing up with nothing, she knew. So Laurel led them over to the closet off to the side and helped her hang it up herself so she could see the whole process.

A four-piece orchestra was playing from the ballroom, so they followed the sound. Laurel was glad she had guessed right on the attire for adults and worn a deep green evening dress. Sin also blended in with the other kids in her sweater, skirt and patterned tights.

Waiters skirted the edge of the dance floor with trays of appetizers, some decidedly more kid-friendly than not. Clumps of people stood gathered around, talking and even smiling, though as Laurel watched Mrs. Queen making the rounds greeting people there was definitely still some tension there.

There were holiday-themed games set up for the children off to one side, musical chairs with Christmas carols serving as the music and a felt red nose with Velcro attached to one side for the kids to try and pin on a picture of what had to be Rudolph. Other kids were coloring pages with Santa or snowmen or dreidels printed on them.

“Do you want to go play?” Laurel asked her charge, as Sin was still sticking to her side. “You don’t have to unless you want.”

“Maybe just a little,” Sin decided.

“Okay. Come get me for anything, alright? Even if you just want to go home.”

Sin nodded and then jogged off towards the other kids. Laurel watched her go with a smile; she knew Sin was having a little trouble making friends at her new school, so to see her willingly engaging with others her own age was a good sign.

“She looks happy,” Oliver remarked, and it honestly didn’t surprise her to find him standing a few feet behind her.

“Yeah. Thanks for the invite. Looks like a succcess.”

Oliver smirked. “I really have you and Sin to thank for that. Almost all of our attendees are parents. If you hadn’t given me the idea to make it a family event, I imagine they wouldn’t have bothered to come.”

“I guess we’re helping each other out, then.”

A cheer went up from the kids’ side of the room. Sin had unerringly found Rudolph’s nose to pin the red felt to, and she was flushed with pride as she took off the blindfold. Laurel was tempted to go over and offer her praise, but she also didn’t want to interrupt the kids.

The orchestra started a new song, and she felt Oliver’s fingers brush her elbow. “Care for a dance?”

“Okay,” she agreed tentatively, allowing herself to be lead out onto the dance floor where Oliver’s secretary was already swaying with a lanky young man with brown hair. She placed one hand in Oliver’s and rested the other on his shoulder while his hand went to her waist. How many times had they danced like this at one of his family’s high society events, both before and after they had ever become involved? It didn’t have to mean anything more than it used to all those years before. They were still friends, after all.

They had nearly been something more, but when he had left last spring it had nearly destroyed her. She’d been lucky to find out the plight that children like Sin were facing after their homes, families or the orphanages they had lived in had been lost. Taking in Sin had given her someone to pour her love and attention into who wouldn't end up refusing it, a way to be needed. When Oliver had come back, even if she could understand why he had needed the time away, she had had to turn him down; she wasn’t about to simply forget the girl she had made herself the legal guardian of just because the man she had been trying to forget about the last five months had come back into her life.

Things with Oliver were just too undefined and ever-changing to introduce into the stability she was trying to give Sin’s life right now as well. There were times like now where she felt completely on the same page as him, like they could read each other perfectly. Then other times his decisions made absolutely no sense. So no matter how nice it felt to be held in his arms or to rest her cheek on his shoulder while they shuffled side to side in a world of their own, she knew all the while it couldn’t and wouldn’t last, and that when the song had ended, the distance would grow between them once again.

In fact, it was earlier. She felt Oliver stiffen for just a second, his fingers flexing against her back. His gaze was over her head, and a glance back showed her Mr. Diggle was clearly trying to communicate something.

“You need to go?” She guessed.

“Uh.” Oliver’s step faltered, though he avoided stepping on her toes at least. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I should be getting home with Sin for her bedtime.” She withdrew from his embrace, smoothing at the folds in her dress.

“You’re a— you make a wonderful guardian to her, Laurel,” he told her. “I’m really glad you found each other.”

“I am, too. Goodnight, Ollie. Merry Christmas.” She turned and left the dance floor, finding Sin coloring at the table with a look of concentration on her face. “Almost done?”

Sin nodded. Laurel went to fetch their coats and helped Sin back into hers when she returned. She stopped by Thea and Mrs. Queen briefly to thank them for the nice evening, and then they were heading back out into the cold to wait for the valet to bring the car around.

“You really like him, right?” Sin asked, and Laurel blinked and looked down.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah. Does he like you back?”

Laurel smirked. That was the question of the year, wasn’t it? “What do you think?”

“I think so.” It was stated with a child’s matter-of-fact certainty, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to pat the top of the girl’s head.

“How’d you like your first Christmas party, Sin?”

“It was great! I hope we go next year, too.”

Laurel wasn’t sure she could see that far into next year. Things in her life seemed to change drastically all the time. But if she were a betting woman, there would have to be two constants going forward: this girl she had brought into her home and her heart, and the inescapable push and pull between herself and Oliver Queen.

“Yeah, me too.”