#and a ceramic Lynx!

[werebutch]

My view from my bed

[claypigeonpottery]

my sweet boy ☹️

he wouldn’t have survived a glaze fire, so I kintsugi’d him back together as bisqueware and sealed him with a clear coat

[chiropteracupola]

everyone keep your eyeballs open for my newest absurd project, sharpe ladyhawke au where no one is having a good time except yours truly, the author

[throwaway-yandere]

A/n: ansy speaking, not her. Please. P l e a s e. Don't read ANY of the endings unless you've reached the end of the story in your own way.

Link to the fic.

In the public eye, it's known that you and Gepard were not the closest. Given how harsh his father was to you both, even the spouses were sure that you two had an unspoken rivalry. Expectations for greatness and undying loyalty for the Supreme Guardian had been ingrained so much that everyone thought you both always wanted to outdo the other to gain Mr. Landau's approval.

But that is far from the truth.

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, Captain?"

He looked away, cheeks and ears both red.

"I-Is my hand too cold?"

You smiled vibrantly.

Except for Serval and Pela, no one knew that you and Gepard had been dating for seven years. Lynx must've had a hunch, but you were both skilled enough to dodge suspicions. 

Perhaps that's exactly what made your relationship exciting. Loving him was quite an expensive vice, and you relished every second you squandered. He thought the same as you; your pervasive cheerfulness reserved for his eyes only was something he often mentally chastised himself for obsessing so much, but he can't get enough of you. Being his "vixen" had been a label you cherished ever since he confessed his reciprocation of your feelings, especially when he said that you have made him resort to discreet flippancy when he saw other men and women take an interest in you several times. 

You were certain he was obsessed with you as much as you were obsessed with him 

A secret this big would certainly give Mr. Landau a turn, but when the time comes, you wouldn't mind the slaps and shards of ceramic and glass you'd have to face as long as you get to be with Gepard.

Your hold on his hand tightened. This led you to notice how ringless his fingers were and you frowned. You know Gepard. If you don't tie him down, one of his many fans will beguile and win his unwavering loyalty. That was his nature. And you couldn't accept being "just" some near-servant he was forced to grow up with. 

"Not at all, no.”

He liked that response. Gepard flashed you a small lopsided smile that was incredibly attractive given how he rarely shows it to anyone.

"You don't have a ring on you..." You cast your gaze down. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

Gepard ducked his chin, considering his words.

"W-Well, I don't know about that."

Your stomach dropped.

... You get it. You got it from then on.

Despite being together for 7 years– 7 YEARS– He will always prioritize his duties before you. You knew that was the core of his character– loyalty, and obedience– and it's likely the only real similarity between him and Mr. Landau. You’re used to it. However, seeing it confirmed again in this context hurts more than you thought it would. 

You dropped his hand, you doubt he notices the absence of your warmth.

"So… the future's uncertain."

"Of course."

You didn't speak. There was no reason to do so. You knew that he was aware of how much you didn’t like his response.

Admittedly, Gepard's hands were always cold. It'd be funny to utter false romances on how perfectly warm his hands are when it feels like he walked straight out of a freezer. Today, his hands were ice, and so was his heart. 

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

Gepard gulped, ashamed.

“The truth is… You frighten me.”

…

…

…

"What…?"

You tilted your head, chuckling. His words didn't make much sense, especially when he was holding you so delicately. 

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps the proper phrasing is that I'm... afraid," Gepard looked away. "Of what's in store for us in the future... Should we continue this route."

You blinked.

"We are not in the Ministry of Education. Be more concise."

"I'm afraid to love you as much as you love me."

...

...

"... That doesn't answer anything."

"I'm afraid that I'll lose my sanity, being so close to you like this, holding you like this" he tightened his grip. "I'm afraid I'd lose my– myself, my hold on reality, my–"

"Name." 

You let go.

"You're afraid that being in a relationship with me will end up getting you disowned. You're afraid of loving me because you have a duty you're obliged to uphold, especially since you're of noble blood and I am just an orphan your father picked up, right? You're afraid to get attached because growing up you've witnessed how little I'm worth. How I lived not like a human child, but a pawn, right? How– despite my skills– I will never be promoted based on my background and upbringing, yes?"

"(Y/n)..."

"Enough, Captain." 

You laughed cruelly. Your breathing rehearsed– your face stiff as a board.

"Let's just forget we ever had this talk."

“Through highs and lows, we’ll always prevail,

Hand-in-hand, we’ll conquer any trail…"

You kept a fixed gaze on Gepard as he continued to sit in his cozy office chair. The unsettling aura that permeated your entire existence didn't appear to trouble him too much. He was aware of why you had come, but he was unable to express himself as he let you in. 

"Gepard."

His suspicions were correct. You weren't here for official matters. This visit was personal.

And he is the one at fault here.

"(Y/n)."

"Don't." You shook your head. "Don't get me started."

"Well, what is it that you wish for me to say?"

"Say that you didn't want it." You spoke, unfettered. "Say that you don't want us to be siblings."

"I don't."

"Then why?" You laughed breathlessly. "Why did you let father– your father do this?"

"I don't– I didn't let him do it. It's just the way it is. They want you as the official third Landau, that is all."

"That's all I am to you? A rival to heirdom?"

"(N/n)..." He covered his mouth with his hand; his stare melancholic yet enraged. “You know it’s not true. Take it back.”

"But ultimately, our relationship means nothing but a waste of time." You shook your head. "It would've hurt less if you just rejected me early on. It wouldn't be this fucking painful."

"I know."

You raised your axe.

"Of course you do. You always were sharp." You scoffed. He gulped as the rough edges of your laughter struck a chord in his chest– Gepard had never heard you cackle this much. 

Strange how the same axe that used to bring him security on the frontlines now overwhelms him with obvious dread.

"At this point, I'm so convinced this pain I'm feeling right now– it's intentional. All a way to keep yourself amused under the guise of upholding the family’s orders."

"(Y/n)." he attempted to speak your name firmly, but there was a quiver by the end of it. "Stand down."

Gepard breathed in.

“I… I can always help you find a match–”

“YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?! I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT YOU!!!”

Your breathing no longer seemed "rehearsed"– resoundingly jagged and feral. Should Gepard be lucky enough to have an outsider witness his final moments, they would've seen how you were crumbling– every inch displaying how you were expiring out of heartbreak.

He gave you half a smile as he approached cautiously. Gepard had always been keenly observant– able to deduce who true criminals were by a single testimony– and you do not have that advantage.

"(N/n)..." 

"Why…?" 

The glint in your eye as you hoisted your axe upward never left. 

"Did you ever... love me back?" You cracked. "In all our years together, sneaking out— carefully unscrewing your windows just to go wherever– did you ever think about us? Or... Or were you just kind this whole time? Were you just afraid of breaking my heart?"

Gepard shook his head, walking towards you with heavy footsteps. He took your shoulders and stared at you dead in the eye, his eyes watering.

"N-No...! No, no, I love you, more than you think. It’s why I’m doing this. I— I love you so much that I knew if I– If I let myself go," he gulped. “I might end up killing Dad.”

"Then why?" You sobbed, wiping your tears quickly to save face. "Why are you giving me up so easily?"

"(Y/n)... What I feel for you just isn't normal." He smiled crookedly. “No sane son would constantly dream about suffocating his father with a pillow just to be with someone. This isn’t right anymore. I-I don’t think I’m sane.”

Gepard cupped your cheeks. 

His hands were cold. As it always was.

"I want you all to myself and it's... I can't. I can't say it out loud. It feels like a crime against Belobog." He leaned in, touching his forehead against yours. Gepard closed his eyes, worried that if he continued to face you, he'd dissolve into nothing. 

The great Captain Gepard Landau, adored by many, was scared of himself.

"I'm always paranoid. I'm scared of watching you– watching you succeed. It's not a person I'm supposed to be. I'm your Captain, I should be happy whenever others imply your promotion but I'm not! I'm– I don't even understand why!!! I’m unhappy when other people have your attention– I just don't want to see that look of fixation in your eyes for another man– I don't want you to look at people like Sampo Koski over— over..."

… me.

With a perverse mixture of mischief and rivalry, Sampo manipulated circumstances that engineered chance encounters with you. He strategized himself in your path, feigning coincidental meetings while leaving a trail of subtle clues only you would realize.

Gepard despises acknowledging it, but he is quite certain that Sampo Koski's strategy of losing from the start is what led to your imminent promotion. Irritatingly, you don't seem to care for his creepy antics and his upfront need for your attention, even inside metallic confinement. In Gepard's eyes, your irritated grin showed that you were taking pleasure in Sampo's "comedic" performances. You don't appear to be bothered by Sampo. Gepard is not identical.

And to this, your dear Captain was starting to see his father when looking in the mirror. 

A bitter old man with little patience when another person touches what’s his.

Gepard breathed in shakily. 

"I don't... want… And that’s why I am not fit to be your lover. You deserve a life much better than this. A life where our opportunities are the same– and I cannot give you that Landau name, but my parents can."

He dropped his trembling hands as they led to his sides. Gepard faced the floor, ashamed with his conscience dirtied. It's as though he's dumping all his dirty laundry on you. No matter how much he voices how much these thoughts plague him, he doubts you understand the extent of his love.

But you do. And you feel it more strongly than he does.

"... You don't want to be ruined by love, that's all?" 

You sighed, ghost-like. 

"I see. Truly, you carry the will of Qlipoth."

Suddenly, you were back to being a model soldier.

Gepard refused to open his eyes.

…

…

…

It seemed as though he had forgotten.

How much you resembled his father more than he did.

A scream echoed throughout the vicinity. 

No one else heard it but you. Not even Gepard realized that guttural sound came from him. 

Always so rehearsed. So calculated. 

As Mr. Landau used to say: "With a strength like yours, (Y/n), it'll take two chops before you can take out a limb."

And he was right. He was always right about you.

"(Y-Y/N)!!!"

You blinked slowly.

Time moved slowly. You grabbed the chopped wood on the floor. You tossed it to the side. It's a lot more moist than usual, and heavier as well, like an over-drowned rotting cactus. The temperature must've dropped again. You should consult Lynx about this later.

"Captain. There's not enough wood for the soldiers at the outpost."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!" Gepard screamed. Strangely enough, he sounded like he was in pain.

You blinked again. Why is the Captain so agitated? Is there an emergency?

"What's wrong, Captain?" You voiced out, awfully calm. A silent voice begged you to panic, but you were a soldier first and foremost. How will you protect the people if you're easily swayed by your captain's mood fluctuations?

Gepard shook, holding himself up against his desk. A surge of searing pain coursed through his body as the “chopped wood” was ruthlessly severed. The shock and disbelief enveloped him, no different from a fog. Collapsing to his knees, he clutched the mangled “stump” where his arm once was, blood staining his trembling hand.

Tears mingled with the beads of sweat on his forehead. He gasped for breath. Amid his physical agony, you stood tall, wordlessly threatening to consume him.

"(Y-Y/n)...! P-Please!!!" He yelped in pain.

"Did you hurt yourself? May I see?" 

"Y-You..." Tears rolled down Gepard’s face. “W-WHY DID YOU?!?!–”

"Don't worry. You've helped me train on my combat lifesaver course, please allow me."

You took a step forward, hands moist from the “snow”.

His non-dominant hand slapped yours away.

Why didn’t he use his dominant hand?

"D-DON'T!!!"

You stopped.

"Captain. You're being hysterical. Please take deep breaths."

"H-Hah... H-H-Hhahh… H-Hahh, why? H-Hahah…"

Gepard looked down again.

You both stayed there for minutes.

You stood with a worn axe in hand, a single “lumber” at your feet. In your mind, it was a simple task— chopping wood for your comrade’s warmth and comfort in the upcoming expedition. But Gepard's eyes revealed a different story. 

You observed his trembling form, his gaze fixed on the place where your swing had connected. What had you missed? You couldn't fathom why he seemed terrified. What had you failed to see? Innocently, you believed you were going about a mundane chore. The weight of the axe felt ordinary in your grip, the act of splitting wood a routine you had performed countless times. How could you have known the magnitude of what had transpired?

But he couldn't turn a blind eye to the truth as you tilted his head up, smiling vibrantly.

"I.. .... ..u."

All he could hear was the syllables “I” and “U.”

You knelt and kissed his cheek. He was wet, probably from the snow. Yes. The snow. Gepard was a clumsy man, he must've stumbled on his way to his office. Mr. Landau had always berated him for his unrefined movements, but you secretly thought it as endearing.

"I.. lo.. ..u. So much, Geppie." You grinned as you sloppily slid the axe in your possession to his remaining hand. "But you need to stop crying. You’re a soldier."

That sentence. It was just like hearing them out of Mr. Landau’s lips.

You pointed at yourself— your thigh— your leg.

"Dry your tears and help me chop wood, okay?"

It took him seconds before he met your gaze.

Your eyes were like staring at the blurry snow beyond the gates of the Administrative district. He knew there must be something there but all that gazed back was foggy and bottomless. The problem is, his vision too was starting to blacken.

He weakly pecked your lips.

“Okay… Okay…”

Gepard laughed mid-tears, his energy draining.

His cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. His mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. His speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

Like a monster whose flesh was stitched with a Silvermane Guard uniform, he grabbed the axe and began to chant mindlessly.

Gepard remembered Pela said something about this before.

‘When the body loses a substantial amount of blood, it can disrupt the delivery of oxygen to the brain, affecting its function and leading to altered mental states, including distress. Hypovolemic shock can also occur within a matter of minutes to hours after experiencing significant blood loss.’

That's right, that must be it. It was even in his lifesaver training course. As a Captain, how dare he forget about it? 

Gepard took the axe with his remaining arm, weakly swinging it as tears rolled in his eyes. His legs are giving up and he’s starting to feel queasy as the world whirls around him,

For a minute there– or the last minutes he would ever have– he finally gave himself the release he needed.

He's been a good child for too long. He couldn't say those three words when you needed motivation. He couldn't whisper when you asked for his relief. He couldn't scream it when you craved its solace.

At least now, he can confess his love when it counted. 

“I-I love you, (Y/n).” Gepard harshly took a deep breath as he lowered his arm. He's a soldier. He wasn't supposed to question the orders from his superiors, and right now, you were the only person he looked up to.

The clock struck 10:10.

“I love you, so, so much.”

An eye for an eye, and you were forgiven.

“In our home, you’re always free to stay…”

It was lunchtime when people started returning to their posts. Pela took a half-day, begging Serval to kindly deliver the papers instead of her due to a convention. This was something the now-promoted intelligence officer wished she had never done.

Pela wished she didn't force Serval to witness the gruesome sight of her brother embraced by his cold-eyed murderer.

She couldn't scream. For once, the vocalist had no smart words to say. She let herself run on auto-pilot hauntingly as though it was a mere volunteer job at the orphanage. 

Serval avoided staring at your chopped leg and Gepard's arm strewn to the side, neatly sitting together like lumber. Her breathing was abnormal as she clawed her skirt. None of this was real to her. None of this made any sense. 

"H-Hey... (Y/n)..."

You looked up.

"W-What… happened?"

"We were just chopping wood." You replied, monotone. “And then he felt sleepy…”

You were starting to feel tired too. You don’t want to stand up anymore. 

"Chopping.. w-wood..." Serval's voice cracked as she began to cry. "W-What... for...?"

"The soldiers at the outpost. We have an expedition. I suppose the captain was just too tired to move…"

"O-Oh dear Qlipoth— (Y/N)!!!" Serval felt bile rising to her throat. “GEPARD!!!”

Serval's heart pounded in her chest as she reluctantly sprinted, her steps quick and frantic. There you “sat”, cradling Gepard's lifeless form in your arms, a serene expression on your face.

With shaky hands, she held Gepard alongside you. Large tears soon splotched Gepard’s peaceful expression, painted with his older sister’s grief.

Your gaze met Serval's, and at that moment, the lifeless confusion etched across your face sent a sharp pang of pain through her heart. You spoke, your words tinged with innocence, unaware of how the dried red liquid soaking both your clothes was starting to turn brown.

Painfully, Serval misunderstood your words. In her mind, she envisioned a violent attack, a scenario where someone had assaulted both of you, clouding your judgment and leaving you lost in confusion like a wounded deer. Afterward, she thought of how you must’ve been mad about Gepard’s passiveness concerning their father’s decision, attacking him without much thought.

Serval's cries intensified. Her understanding of the situation clashed with your warped perception. 

Did she see you not as a perpetrator but as another sibling caught in an ambush? 

Or did she understand what happened, and simply wanted you to get away from the crime you had committed?

Temporarily, her focus was on you. Looking only at Gepard was too much to bear– like another half of herself was burned to sunder.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Serval smiled warily and replied in an overly pert tone. “I’ll get a mop— w-we’ll clean this mess, okay? You didn’t do it. You did what you can. You did nothing wrong…” 

Serval sobbed.

Either way, she won’t lose another important person in her life.

Not again.

You tilted your head, eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

“W-Why are you crying, Serv?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down. Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here… I won’t let you leave me.”

“... Who’s coming to take me away…?”

“N-No, no… I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

She was speaking to herself more than she was speaking to you. 

Even when she is her only conversation partner, Serval was a lousy liar.

But despite all those lies, she knew that she would never recover from losing Gepard.

“Together, we’ll face each passing day…”

Your eyes fluttered open, your body drenched in cold sweat. 

You’re out of the back alley.

You breathed shakily. You’re free. And yet, a lingering sense of fear clings to your senses. Gasping for breath, you found yourself in an unfortunately very familiar room. You didn’t know what time it was, but the soft glow of moonlight casting a gentle light across the hospital walls told you what you needed to know. And there, by your side, sat Serval who held your hand the entire time, a mix of relief and concern etched upon her face.

"S-Serval?" Your voice trembled as you whispered her name, still reeling from the remnants of that nightmare.

Serval's eyes widened in surprise, her voice laced with a hint of guilt. "You're awake! Oh, thank– I didn't know what I would do if I lost you."

Not you too.

She continued. 

“Seriously, why did you try to escape?”

Her hold on your hand tightened. 

Serval’s hands were cold, just like Gepard’s.

“Don’t you know how worried sick I was?” Serval’s voice was airy as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her concerns. “I thought you and Sampo eloped. Not to mention this whole event about a murder happening at 10:10– I genuinely thought you were dead when we found you lying down near the Golden Theater at that time!”

She took a deep breath.

“I thought you were dead. I genuinely thought I’d lose another sibling.” Serval cried as she pulled you closer, her head now resting on your shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that again!!!”

You gulped, feeling something stuck in your throat.

“Were… you singing?”

“Ah!” Serval’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes I was.”

“I’m sorry, was it too cheesy?” She laughed quietly. “Lynx, Pela, and I are still working on it. We were hoping to perform it for you once you got better. Dunn was even willing to help out.”

This is wrong.

This is wrong.

This is wrong.

You don’t deserve her kindness. You don’t deserve their affection.

Your obsession with Gepard Landau was consuming, swallowing you whole. With an already fragile mind– he had effectively shattered your mental state, no matter how merciful he had done it. 

Human unpredictability is a terrifying variable. Who would’ve known that the unofficial Landau could lose themselves in blind rage and desperation? A hole so deep, you haven’t realized the axe you wielded severed his arm. But such a tragedy was only the beginning. Gepard tore your leg off your body in the process as well. 

Most importantly, unable to control both physical and mental anguish, you took his life, extinguishing your raison d’etre.

Finally, the lines between reality and delusion crispened.

In his final moments, what was he thinking about? Why was he smiling as you ripped away his arm? Why did he still hold you so gently? Why did he...

You cried.

“I killed him.”

You shook.

“I killed him, Serval!” You grasped a handful of the hospital bedsheets, sobbing wildly. “I killed your brother!!!”

You couldn’t face him. A murderer couldn’t face the family of their victims with a heavy conscience. You couldn’t see her eyes after this. You want her to gouge them out for you.

…

…

“Hah.”

But amidst that silence, you heard a soft somber chuckle.

“I know.”

You snapped your neck towards her.

“What…?”

“I know. I know you killed Geppie.” Serval spoke, emotionless. “And I won’t ever forgive you for that. I’m sorry, (Y/n), but you know how long it takes for me to let go of past grudges. It was so easy for you to just take my brother off this world... Don't you at least owe me an explanation!? I don’t want another "I blacked out" as an excuse. So don’t bother if you can’t give me a good honest answer.”

She’s right.

You can never give her a good honest answer. You can either give her a good one or an honest one– they’re mutually exclusive in this scenario.

You gulped. “I-I’m so sorry, Ser–”

“But,” she chuckled, full of self-loathing. “I grew up with you. You were always there for me, as a servant, friend, my dad’s favorite, my brother’s lover, or my sibling.”

Serval took a deep breath.

“You’re still our third Landau. I don’t know how I feel about you, but what I do know is that I need to keep you alive.”  

“B-BUT—”

“I’m not the only one who will lose another sibling. Lynx will too.”

Serval shook her head, placing a finger on her lip as she closed her eyes.

“I should’ve locked the door to the basement.” She repeated those words with more conviction. “I should’ve locked the door to the basement. You wouldn’t have remembered everything if I just asked Molly to double-check the locks.”

You slipped your hand away from hers.

“What do you…”

You can no longer form complete sentences and Serval won’t let you do so either way.

“Dr. Kang Tu’s medicine has worn off quickly, huh? Maybe I can get Pela to find better connections. She knows people with a Ph.D. in medicine or pharmacy or something, right? It shouldn't be too hard. Maybe I can ask Dr. Kang Tu if it's possible to up the dosage— surely there are a ton of customers who aren't too satisfied with this therapy device. Heck, maybe I can tinker with it for a little. My engineering degree isn't worth dust. Maybe I can adjust the settings just a bit better. Yeah... It'll be fine. I can work this out. I'll just have to—"

You stared blankly as Serval talked to herself. If there's something worse than watching her lie, it's to watch her be incredibly earnest about something vile and wrong.

"Serval?"

"Yeah, I can do that, no sweat!" She laughed out loud. Her pupils were dilated, as though her self-encouragements can make her run a mile. "Yeah, I can do this. Dad may think I'm useless but I’m the only one who can save his favorite kid. Sure, I’m an ex-engineer from the Technology Division, but I’m also the only one that can still protect– preserve this family."

Her prolonged rants were unnerving as she fumbled with what was in her bag. 

Suddenly, remembered all the "experiments" she had done to you when you were tied up in her basement. The stuffy air, the strange electrifying devices, the cables, the sockets that connect to both your temples-- the flickering lights that made you pass out and wake up in a never-ending cold sweat.

Suddenly, you remembered why you wanted to leave.

"What are you—"

You finally shared a gaze.

Your heart dropped.

Her eyes were empty. Cold. Yet it squinted as she wore a large smile. Too large to be considered normal. But this was the same sight you'd see whenever you woke up. And it never fails to make you worry despite the pain you endured.

Serval Landau is broken, yet she wanted to be the one to "fix" you like a good older sister. 

And it's all your fault.

Like all Landaus, there's no stopping them once they've made up their mind. A “family code of conduct”— one that you had once followed before.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Serval smiled as she turned something on.

The mobile amnesic therapy meditation device looked like it belonged naturally in her hands.

“But I still need this happy family to work. If not for Gepard, then for Mom and Lynx. They’d be too heartbroken if they knew the truth.”

You started to hear that familiar radio static again.

“So forget everything that happened, okay?”

[bbqbills2]

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Patio heaters are a great choice when it comes to extending the outdoor season. However, one of the key questions many people ask is whether gas or electric patio heaters might be the better choice. There are obvious benefits to both. Ultimately, which type works best will depend on the size of the area to be heated, existing power sources, and also personal preference in regard to appearance and control of the heater.

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Wall or ceiling installation: Install against the wall or flush into the ceiling.

Wind resistant front: The ceramic front protects the heating elements from the wind.

The Bromic Platinum Smart-Heat 500 Series Outdoor Gas Patio Heaters are one of the most versatile and attractive outdoor heaters on the market. Designed for commercial spaces, these heaters blend design with heating. The Bromic Platinum 500 heats up to 200 square feet with 5 burners, pivots for direct heating, and resists gusts of wind up to 11 MPH.

The Dyna-Glo Deluxe Natural Gas Radiant Heater offers multi-directional heat for large outdoor areas up to 5,900 square feet, and feature simple ignition types for easy start-up. These powerful natural gas heaters are effective for job-sites and outdoor work areas as well as gathering spaces in homes and residential common areas.

Note: Most natural gas outdoor heaters require a technician to connect them to gas lines.

#8. Bromic Heating BH0110003-1 Smart-Heat Platinum 500 Radiant Infrared Patio Heater

If you’re looking for a sleek, discreet heater for uninsulated spaces, look no further than the Bromic Heating BH0110003-1 Smart-Heat Platinum 500 Radiant Infrared Patio Heater. As opposed to freestanding heaters, this one is meant to be mounted permanently on a wall or ceiling, so there’s nothing to trip over.

For modern homes and contemporary spaces, this is one of the best patio heaters you can buy (if your pockets are deep enough, that is). Providing direct and automated ignition, this powerhouse heater pumps out 39,800 BTUs (up to 200 square feet of coverage), and its slow-release ceramic burners are environmentally friendly.

The patented screen and ionization probe technology provides excellent wind resistance (up to 12 miles per hour), and the pivoting mount bracket lets you control heat distribution as needed. If you have the money to spare, you won’t be disappointed with this bad boy.

This is one of our most expensive patio heaters on the guide, but it is designed with power efficiency and quality in mind. However, if you did want a more affordable option, you could opt for the Dr. Infrared Heater DR-238 that is also wall-mounted.

Infratech Electric Heaters

Infratech Electric Patio Heaters - Cocktails under the stars. Now there is an eco-friendly way to turn up the ambience with Infratech Electric Patio Heaters. These low-profile electric patio heaters coordinate with many decor styles, and offer silent operation and superior performance compared to gas, with no harmful emissions or odors. Infratech electric patio heaters are over 90% energy efficient, UL listed for outdoor and indoor use and are easy and inexpensive to operate.

What to Consider

Power Source

Most patio heaters are either gas-powered (propane or natural) or electric. Both types emit infrared energy. Unlike a space heater, which blows air across a hot electric coil to warm the air, a patio heater projects an infrared beam that travels through the air without heating it. When the infrared energy strikes a solid object like a person or furnishings, the beam converts to heat.

Propane

A propane patio heater is more portable, and oftentimes comes with a wheeled base so you to easily move around your deck or patio depending on the wind or seating situation. Gas is also typically cheaper than electric, so the overall cost to run is typically less.

Unfortunately, the flame of a gas patio heater can be blown out by the wind, meaning you’ll have to restart everything to keep the heat going. These types of heaters also require more regular cleaning, because bugs and debris may affect the burner and burner screen. You also have to get the propane tanks refilled if they run out.

Natural Gas

Natural gas patio heaters are essentially the same as propane gas models, but they are less expensive to operate, and don’t require refills since gas is piped into it (similar to a home furnace). But like other patio heaters, keeping the appliance in a fixed location may affect the heating capability.

Electric

Since electric power heaters don’t require propane or a flame to run, then they can’t be blown out by the gusts of wind, and are generally the most convenient to use. They also don’t require a lot of maintenance, besides clearing off pesky cobwebs or bug webs in the off season. A permanently installed structure could potentially contribute to resale value, too. However, you’d likely be faced with permit requirements, and eating the cost of electrical work by a professional if anything goes awry.

Electric models can also be more expensive to operate, and keeping the heater in a fixed location might not be the most ideal for the seating arrangement.

Pellet

Pellet patio heaters aren’t the most commonly used, but they may be ideal depending on your exact needs. These models use compressed wood as their fuel source, and have a combustion chamber where the pellets are burned to produce heat. Pellet heaters are generally a more sustainable and eco-friendly option, because they use a renewable fuel source and release fewer emissions.

They also efficiently produce heat with less waste, and pellets are often cheaper and more consistent in price. However, you’ll have to have a supply of pellets on hand, and access to a reliable power source to operate the ignition system.

Heat Output

One of the most important factors to consider is how much heat you’ll get from your patio heater. The output is measured in BTUs. To put it simply, the more BTUs you have heading at you, the warmer you feel. A decent-sized patio heater usually produces between 30,000 and 50,000 BTUs per hour. Several models on our list emit over 40,000 BTUs, making them ideal options for keeping larger yards and outdoor spaces warm.

It’s important to remember that depending on whether the appliance is gas or electric, then the heat output and longevity varies. Gas patio heaters might not last as long, but they generate more heat. Electric patio heaters typically have a longer lifespan, and might be a more energy-efficient choice. If you plan to spend several hours outside, opt for an electric model. If you’re just heading to the backyard for a quick hang out, then a gas heater might be the way to go.

Range

To get the best performance out of your patio heater, think about its BTU rating in relation to the size of your outdoor space, as well as the climate. If you live in an area with bone-chilling temperatures, you might benefit from an appliance that has a high BTU output and a wide coverage area, or invest in multiple units. If you’re just trying to keep things reasonably toasty on your patio, then a model with mid-range coverage can suffice.

BQ BILL'S STORY

Outdoor Living Store in Las Vegas

For more than 30 years, outdoor barbecues and kitchen solutions have been the name of the game at BBQ Bill’s. We are your premier barbecue store in Las Vegas, NV, that can help you create the ideal outdoor cooking and living space based on your style and budget.

BBQ Bill's will design and install custom outdoor kitchens, BBQ island kitchen, fire features, fire bars, fireplaces, fire pits, fire grills, fire rings, pizza ovens, BBQ grills, griddles, smokers, cookers, rotisserie, refrigerators, heaters, sinks, patio covers, outdoor accessories and build as construction contractors.

Our experienced barbecue experts will create a masterpiece that perfectly matches your vision for function and beauty. We have access to thousands of quality items and install only superior-quality products from some of the best names in the business, including Alfa, Alfresco, Amore, Aspire, Blaze, Bonfire, Coyote, DCS, Delta Heat, Fontana Forni, Gozney, Green Mountain, Hestan, Lynx, Memphis, Pit Boss, Summerset, Twin Eagle, Viking, Wolf.  

We service Las Vegas, Henderson, Mesquite, North Las Vegas, Blue Diamond, Enterprise, Goodsprings, Moapa Valley, Mount Charleston, Nelson, Paradise, Spring Valley, Summerlin South, Sunrise Manor, Whitney, Winchester, Arden, Jean, Logandale, Overton, Primm, Sloan, Vegas Creek, Boulder City, and Pahrump. Contact us today to let us help you build the outdoor barbecue and kitchen space of your dreams.

[catpeek]

Unique Cat Souvenirs to Celebrate Your Feline Friend

Traveling opens up a world of experiences, and what better way to remember them than with adorable cat-themed souvenirs? Whether you’re a cat lover or looking for the perfect gift for one, here are nine purr-fect cat souvenirs to collect during your adventures around the globe! 🐾✈️

🐱 9 Cat Souvenirs to Buy When Traveling the World

1. Picture Frames — Istanbul, Turkey

Istanbul is famous for its lovely feline residents! Capture your memories with beautiful frames featuring the city's famous cats while you explore its rich history.

2. Matilda: The Algonquin Cat and Hamlet: The Algonquin Cat — New York City, USA

Stay at the luxurious Algonquin Hotel and take home a piece of literary history with these cat-themed books that reflect the hotel’s charming feline past. 📚🐈

3. Maneki-Neko Cat Statues — Tokyo, Japan

Bring home a Maneki-Neko, the adorable lucky cat figurine that symbolizes good fortune. It's a must-have for any cat enthusiast visiting Japan! 🐾✨

4. P-22 Gear — Los Angeles, USA

Celebrate the legendary P-22 cougar from Griffith Park with framed photos and merchandise that honor this iconic wild cat. Perfect for cat lovers with a flair for the wild! 🌄

5. ABBA Cat Merchandise — Stockholm, Sweden

Sing along with your favorite Swedish supergroup while picking up cat-themed apparel and souvenirs at the ABBA Museum. It’s a unique fusion of music and feline fun! 🎤✨

6. Delft Blue Ceramic Cat Statues — Amsterdam, the Netherlands

Explore the charming streets of Amsterdam and find traditional Delft Blue ceramic cat statues. They are not only beautiful but also steeped in Dutch history! 🇳🇱💙

7. Dutch Lion Merchandise — Amsterdam, the Netherlands

If you prefer lions, Amsterdam has got you covered! From plush toys to apparel, celebrate the symbol of the Netherlands with fun lion merchandise. 🦁💛

8. Germain the Lynx Stuffed Toys and Panther Jewelry — Paris, France

In Paris, find a cuddly Germain stuffed toy or indulge in some luxurious cat-themed jewelry from Cartier. A perfect duet of charm and sophistication! 🏰💖

9. Papyrus and Cat Statues — Cairo, Egypt

As you wander through Cairo, you’ll discover stunning Egyptian cat-themed items that draw inspiration from ancient mythology. Pick up a papyrus scroll or a Sphinx statue for your collection! 🇪🇬🌀

For more cat-themed souvenirs from around the world, check out this guide on cat collecting and discover unique treasures to cherish! 🐾🌍✨

[backyardbeginnings]

In the heart of every avid outdoor cooking enthusiast lies the desire to create memorable moments and delectable dishes amidst the backdrop of nature's beauty. This desire finds its perfect match in Backyard Beginnings - a haven for those who seek to transform their outdoor spaces into culinary paradises. At the heart of this haven is the revered Lynx Grill, surrounded by a curated selection of Backyard BBQ Appliances and Outdoor Cooking Equipment. Embark on a journey with us as we explore how this ensemble can redefine your outdoor cooking experiences, one sizzle at a time.

Lynx Grill: Masterful Craftsmanship, Culinary Excellence

The Lynx Grill stands as a testament to a tradition of craftsmanship and innovation that spans over decades. Renowned for its precision engineering, exquisite design, and unparalleled performance, the Lynx Grill has become a hallmark of outdoor culinary artistry. With an unwavering commitment to quality, Lynx Grills are meticulously crafted to ensure every flame, every sear, and every savory aroma is an ode to gastronomic excellence.

Equipped with cutting-edge technology, the Lynx Grill seamlessly merges art and science. The ProSear2™ burner, for instance, offers variable temperature control for the perfect sear, while the ceramic briquettes ensure even heat distribution across the cooking surface. From succulent steaks to perfectly charred vegetables, the Lynx Grill empowers chefs of all skill levels to achieve extraordinary results right in the comfort of their backyard.

Backyard BBQ Appliances: Curating the Complete Culinary Experience

Complementing the Lynx Grill is an exquisite collection of Backyard BBQ Appliances that cater to every facet of outdoor cooking. Embracing diversity in culinary preferences, these appliances are meticulously designed to cater to the multifaceted needs of outdoor chefs.

Side Burners: Elevate your cooking prowess with side burners that provide an additional culinary workspace. Simmer sauces, sauté vegetables, or cook delicate dishes while keeping your grill dedicated to those sizzling steaks.

Smokers: Immerse yourself in the world of slow-cooked, aromatic flavors. Backyard Beginnings offers a range of smokers that allow you to infuse your meats with rich smokiness, taking your barbecue game to the next level.

Pizza Ovens: Expand your horizons beyond traditional grilling with outdoor pizza ovens. Experience the joy of crafting wood-fired pizzas with crispy crusts and bubbling cheese, a culinary adventure that's perfect for gatherings of friends and family.

Backyard Beginnings invites you to embark on a culinary journey that blends artistry, innovation, and nature's splendor. With the Lynx Grill at its core and a meticulously curated selection of Backyard BBQ Appliances and Outdoor Cooking Equipment, this experience promises to elevate your outdoor cooking endeavors to unprecedented heights.

[homestuck-human-generator]

Name: Sai Emir Marlow Color: Ceramic #Fcfff9 Symbol: yarn Strife Specibus: shovelkind Handle: expiredCar Animal: lynx Pronouns: he/him Age: 95 Birthday: 302th day of the year Sexuality: lesbian Interests: letterboxing and weight training Dream Moon: derse Classpect: Heir of Hope Land: Land of Slime and Lightpoles, a perfect place, with querulous Prairie Kingsnake consorts. It is a place full of cities and canals of plastic. Rhea can't wait to meet the player. Instrument: zurna via homestuck-human-generator https://ift.tt/x4VNmJh

[climb-inej]

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋   𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄   :  Inej Ghafa

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒)   : The Wraith, little lynx, spider, bronze girl, Captain Ghafa.

╳   𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒.

moody  |  short-tempered  |  emotionally unstable  |  whiny  |  controlling  |  conceited  | possessive  | paranoid  |  liar  |  impatient  |  cowardly  |  bitter  |  selfish  |  power-hungry  |  greedy  |  lazy  |  judgmental  |  forgetful  |  impulsive |  spiteful  |  stubborn |  sadistic  |  petty  |  unlucky  |  absent-minded |  abusive  |  addict  |  aggressive  |  childish  |  callous  |  clingy  |  delusional  |  cocky  |  competitive  |  corrupt  |  cynical |  cruel  |  depressed  |  deranged  | egotistical |  envious |  insecure  |  insensitive  |  lustful  |  delinquent  |  guilt complex | reclusive  |  reckless  |  nervous  |  oversensitive

♔   𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇𝐒.

honest  |  trustworthy  | thoughtful  |  caring  |  brave  |  patient  |  selfless  |  ambitious  | tolerant  |  lucky  |  intelligent  |  confident   | focused  |  humble  |  generous  |  merciful  | observant |  wise  | clever |  charming  |  cheerful  |  optimistic |  decisive  |   adaptive | calm  |  protective  |  proud  |  diligent | considerate  |  compassionate  |  good sportsmanship | friendly  |  empathetic  |  passionate | reliable  |  resourceful |  sensible  |  sincere |  witty  | funny

🖌 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 & 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒.

art  |  acting  |  astronomy  |  animals |  archery  |  sports  |  belly dancing |  bird watching  |  blacksmithing  |  boating  |  calligraphy  |  camping  |  candle making  |  casino gambling  |  ceramics  |  racing  |  chess  | music   |  cooking  |  crochet  |  weaving  |  exercise  | swordplay |  fishing  |  gardening  | ghost hunting  | ��ice skating  |  magic  | engineering  |  building  |  inventing  |  leather-working  |  martial arts  |  meditation  |  origami  |  parkour  | people watching |  swimming  |  puppetry  |  pyrotechnics  |  quilting  |  reading |  collecting  |  shopping  |  socializing  |   storytelling  |  writing |  traveling  |  exotic dancing  |  singing

tagged by @aflockofshadowscars

most of my mutuals have already done this so it's open for new followers!! tag me so I can take a look at your muses <3

[houseoracastle]

"Jay calls you dad?" Cass said it before he could stop himself, and then shook his head, reminding himself it really wasn't his nosy ass's business. "Right. Family." He didn't say anything else, gaze on the mug in his hand, where he found himself picking at what may have been a scratch in the ceramic, or some itty bitty piece of dried something or other, it didn't really matter it just gave him something to do. "What's Dodger short for, then? Something less interesting than Lynx?" Cass smirked and looked at Dodger again, shrugging. "Well, that's why it's just a plan and we haven't set it in motion yet. Guess we may have to settle for a city hall marriage."

Cass looked Dodger up and down, eyebrows rising slowly. "Practically family? So does this mean you're making an honest man our of my brother? How sweet, two Romero weddings in one year," he cooed, putting his free hand to his chest. "It suits him. And anyway, you're one to talk," Cass snorted, looking pointedly at the other. "Dodger." And he knew he and Lynx weren't much more than friends who flirted a lot and found hidey-holes at Sammie's to fool around in when they could, but he couldn't stop himself from immediately saying, "Oh, sure. We'd actually planned on eloping. So you could say things were getting pretty serious," with a nod. "He is nice."

[designobjectory]

Lynx – Lisa Larson, Gustavsberg

[claypigeonpottery]

both sold

having coffee with a friend

[bowiebond]

For weirder asks: 5, 15, 21, 25, 31, 35 :)

5. Blue. I was once told they look like ocean waves crashing against my pupil by christian lady trying to pry compliments from me in return because...something about repenting and kindness? No fucking clue honestly.

15. No. I don't actually plan to be either. Pregnancy has terrified me since before my transition and still does. Same with my partner, and our third who is uncaring for having children or not honestly.

21. I have a wooden slate thing with my baby name on it as well as a flat purple ceramic dinosaur. I don't keep them out in my room, but I've kept them in my closet for sentimental reasons.

25. I use regular spray deodorant, LYNX Africa I think, but I am picking up the cologne that Billy uses in the show in stick form tomorrow, so that's neat.

31. Usually either dance pop or heavy metal/rock. Depends. I quite like Billy Talent.

35. GTM (+8)! I live in Australia, it's currently 2:40am

[meowing-at-u]

i havent touched ceramic or oil clays in at least 8 years. I made a python and a lynx out of plasticine and GAWDDAMN I'm GOOD at it

Things'a Happening

[skeletaldropkick]

Shop update! October 9th, 10AM, PST. Over 35 new mugs 😃 If you want a reminder, sign up for my mailing list, you can find it in my links (lynx) in my bio . , #ceramics #clay #monster #mug #coffee #coffeemug #tea #monstermug #cryptozoology #goth #metal #gothdinnerware #handthtown #coneten #porcelain #ceramic #coffeeislife #pottery #creepycute#stayinbed https://www.instagram.com/p/CjQ1e0nPIi7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[pupuprinssi]

Merry Christmas and such. Here’s a small fic. ❤

Jon blinks. The lights in the archives are bright and the smell of mulled wine is so strong it's almost nauseatingly pungent and sweet, and he has little memory how he came to be there. At first, he panics; it's a reasonable response to finding one's self in the midst of a situation that cannot be recalled or reasoned with. But it feels... benign. It feels celebratory, so he leans back in his chair and takes a breath, tries to remember how he got there before making any rash decisions. There is a mug there on his table, the same table he's been working at for years, on top of a statement he assumes he was interrupted examining if not reading when the mug arrived. He touches it with his fingertips, the warm side of it, to assure himself that it is real and this is not a hallucination. His head aches a little, but everything seems to be alright; the mug is corporeal enough, its ceramic side smooth and polished, and as he turns it he feels a little... awkward reading the text printed upon its side. Tears of my employees, it states. The tears are red, the pungent and sweet smell lingering heavy in the steam that rises from them. Jon forces himself to laugh a little. He doesn't remember how the mug's gotten there, but... it feels appropriate enough. With a shiver he turns the text away from himself and lifts the mug to his lips, if only to continue reassuring himself that this is normal.

Of course it's normal. This is the Institute he works at. This is his... his office, his territory, his Archive. It seems significant, but it's mundane. He's been here for years, hasn't he?

He drinks the mulled wine and places the mug back on the table. Yes, everything is as it should be. He's just tired. He doesn't sleep well, after all. That sounds like him. His fingertips turn the page of the statement idly before he leans over it and clears his throat.

*

"Hold it," Martin breathes out, and Tim's fingers wrap around the kitten more firmly.

It's struggling, the little beast. Sasha doesn't look like she approves of what they're doing.

"Hey, Sasha? It's a cat. It'll be fine," Tim tells her, noticing the same sour look upon her features. "Cats love boxes."

"Could you just wrap a ribbon around it or something?" Sasha asks. "This just seems cruel for no particular reason. It doesn't have to be literally wrapped up."

"It's fine, Sasha, I'm leaving it a lot of space to breathe. It'll only be there for like, five minutes," Martin assures her. He's almost finished measuring the square of wrappings they need to cover the whole cardboard box. The paper's got some cartoony trees printed upon it with little golden, metallic stars on top of them and floating about the space inbetween. He's feeling a little... antsy, really. Jon makes him feel that way. It's nothing new, of course, he just... he's just a little bit in love. It's fine. That's how it should be. It feels right. "Okay. Drop her in, will you?"

Tim grabs the kitten under its tiny arms, and it meows loudly in protest even as he cups its behind in his palm. He lifts it up to his face and smiles at it, fingertip running down the top of its small head and between the two grey-brown, black-tipped tabby ears - they've got little tufts of fur on top sticking up like a lynx's ears. Martin watches him, unable to help the soft smile on his face. Jon's going to love it. They've talked about it before, haven't they? Martin can't exactly remember, but he knows Jon's wanted a cat for a long time. This one's a... a rescue. Someone's accidental litter. It's going to be a great cat for Jon, and Martin had to get it because... because Jon's never going to, right? He doesn't plan for the future like that. He's too stuck being a workaholic. He needs something to get him going home in the evenings.

Martin lifts the box and holds the top open, and Tim lifts the cat up above it and slowly places it inside. The kitten meows again even as its body meets the towels inside that Martin brought from home to have them smelling like him, but it appears to calm down soon and curiously sniffs around itself even as the lid of the box is closed again. Sasha lets out a disapproving sigh, but doesn't contest it when Martin places the box down on the square of paper laid out on the floor and begins to wrap it up.

"You know they say don't ever buy an animal for somebody else as a Christmas present? That's how you get strays," she says then.

"Ah, drop it, Sasha," Tim says cheerfully, stretching his arms up above his head. "Martin's right, Jon's never going to do it and he needs something soft and warm to cuddle at night that isn't literally Martin. Maybe it'll relax him a little bit, I don't know. Really, it's harmless. He'll love it."

"Well, just tell him I'll take the cat if he ends up feeling like he has to give her up," Sasha says with weight in her words, and Martin nods.

"I'll tell him that. It's going to be ok, Sasha, we've talked about it before. He wants a cat, it's just... never a good time for him. So, you know. We just thought we'd pick a good time for him."

Sasha leans her body to Martin's office desk and lifts up her mug of eggnog. Tim notices and parts his eyes from the box now containing a small cat, and he lifts his gaze to Sasha, smirking. It takes Sasha a moment to realise her drink has been contaminated.

"You didn't," she says, barely containing a snort to retain her fake-judgemental voice.

"Oh, I'd never," Tim reassures her, smiling brightly.

Martin eyes his own eggnog suspiciously, but he's got his hands full of wrapping paper and tape. The truth will have to wait. *

There's a knock on the door. It comes at a good moment: the mulled wine he drank almost without noticing was most certainly alcoholic and Jon can feel it in his relaxed, warm body. His anxiety's toned down and everything feels temporarily almost alright, even though the statement he spoke into his recorder still lingers at the edges of his consciousness where he's laid it to rest.

"Come in," he calls clearly through the haze.

Martin peeks his head in, and Jon's chest tightens. He smiles a genuine, relieved smile, although he's uncertain why he feels that way at the sight of him. Maybe he was afraid Martin wouldn't be there. After all, he's still not really sure how he ended up there himself - he just knows that it's alright that they're all there. They... all. Yes; behind Martin he can see Sasha peeking in, and behind them stands Tim, carrying a thermos with him. They all file into the room and close the door behind them. Martin at the head has his arms wrapped around a gift-wrapped square, and Jon has the creeping feeling he'll be the recipient of it.

"Ready for a second round?" Tim asks, stepping forwards and leaving Jon no time to decline before he's already poured him a second mug of the same mulled wine. "Nice mug."

Jon tilts his head a little uncertainly, attempting a smile. "Thank you," he says, not for the comment on his mug but for the drink that he didn't ask for. He's got a feeling that he wants to be a little intoxicated today, that he's been due for a little relaxation for a long time now.

"Don't drink too much," Martin says as he steps up next, taking Tim's place at the front. "Tim's probably been more than a little heavy-handed with that, if the eggnog is anything to go by."

"I'm just making sure we're all having a good time and we all know that the only way to have a good time at the Magnus Institute is to be really, really drunk so you don't know that you're there to begin with," Tim states in a contented tone.

Martin rolls his eyes and places the box in front of Jon. "Merry Christmas, Jon."

Jon reaches his hand forwards, then retreats it and glances up at Martin. He's smiling so softly, his eyes warm as they meet Jon's, and Jon's heart skips a beat. He smiles back and pulls his mug closer as if for emotional support, and then he looks down at the box which is... making a sound, a scratching sound that alarms him, makes him question where he is again. Is it something bad? Will something change if he opens it? He picks up the little card attached to the ribbon.

"From Martin, Tim and Sasha. To Jon." The back of the card, in Sasha's handwriting, states: "Open quickly."

Jon lifts his gaze back to Martin for comfort. If Martin's there then nothing inside the box can be that bad. It'll be alright, he knows it will. He knows it like it's plain as day to him, the only thing he needs is to reassure himself that Martin's with him. He wouldn't take a noisy box like that from anybody else but he trusts Martin, at least. He loves Martin. The thought warms him up almost as much as the mouthful of mulled wine he drinks before he sets his fingers to the task of unwrapping a cardboard box. There's a sound... a sound that a little baby might make, he thinks, and his hands stop over the box for a moment. No, not a baby, a baby animal: it's either a little whimper or a meow. His lips part and his heart races a little faster, and he turns the flap of the box to pull it up.

Inside he finds a tiny, curious tabby: black stripes, yellow eyes, white paws and chest and a brownish coat underneath all those markings. Its little pink nose lifts up and sniffs his fingers and it meows again, lifting its paws onto the edge of the box and pulling itself up to climb out, but the box is too tall, so Jon reaches in and helps it onto his hands. It's so small, so fragile in his palms and so completely unthreatening and mundane and good that he almost tears up at the sight. The silence in the room is ringing in his ears before he lifts his gaze, and he's got that stupid smile of wonder on his face that he knows makes him look at least ten years younger than he is, and a hundred younger than he feels.

"Thank you," he breathes out.

Martin chuckles. Sasha exchanges looks with Tim, who's grinning in his usual way.

"We all thought you needed a friend," Martin says, daring to step closer to the desk again. His hands land on the edge and he breathes out, shivering before a chuckle escapes him. "You can name her whatever you'd like."

Jon's holding the cat against his chest now, and she's very quiet there, no longer struggling but simply soaking up his warmth. He feels an emotion he can't really describe that makes him reach out his other hand and touch Martin on the cheek, and Martin closes his eyes and smiles and leans closer, and they kiss softly over the desk. The audience lets out a mixed response: Sasha chuckles, Tim sighs.

"There they go again," Tim says, that same grin lingering in his voice.

Jon ignores him. "Would you help me pick a name?" he asks, his lips still very close to Martin's.

"Tonight after work?" Martin asks, and Jon nods.

He knows that they're headed for the same address - wherever in London that is. It all feels... very good now; so very real that he can almost believe it.