#a couple prompts are recycled from last time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

authortobenamedlater · 3 months

Note

Chyler allowing herself to make a mistake in front of Tom from the vulnerability prompts? I feel like she's a big time perfectionist.

Also just gonna throw this out there, but "begging them to stay" sounds like it has great potential for some angsty injury feels with a Spartan pairing like John/Cortana or Fred/Kelly.

From these prompts.

Well this took me forever and ever to finish. And that was just the first prompt.

I had a more serious response for this, but I wanted to write something for this mini-AU ❤️

xxxxxx

“Tom? You—hold on.”

Tom sat with a bemused smile as the video feed in front of him shook and jumped to the soundtrack of a small child’s squawking. He’d finally managed to secure a real-time video call to his family on Luna, and for the first time in months he could watch the chaos unfold without a time delay.

“OK.” Chyler set her device on the counter. “You there?” She leaned down into the shot.

“I am.” Tom raised the volume on his headset and made sure the noise canceling function was on. Even so, it was hard to block out the constant drone of Flying Fortress’s engines and the other conversations going on around him in the room colloquially dubbed “the phone booth.” “Should I ask how things are going on the home front?”

“It’s—Kate! What is that? Oh, just Teddy. OK. Yeah, we’re good.” Chyler answered.

“Sounds it,” Tom observed dryly.

“Kate! Honey!” Chyler picked up the tablet and started walking across the tiny apartment. “Want to say hi to Dada?”

The camera display flipped around and Tom saw his daughter sitting on the floor playing with a brown teddy bear. “Princess Kate!” He greeted.

“It’s Dada!” Chyler said.

“Dada!” The two-and-a-half-year-old dropped the toy crawled toward the screen. Her dark curls flopped over her eyes.

Tom ducked his face out of view. “Now, where’s that adorable Kate?” He sat up and feigned surprise. “Kate!” He placed his hand in front of the camera. “No Kate!” He moved his hand away. “Kate!” He covered the lens again. “No Kate!”

The little girl giggled and squealed at the familiar game. Well, familiar to Tom. He wondered if Kate even remembered the last time they’d played.

She’s so much bigger than she was then.

She looks so much like her mom.

“You’re not causing any trouble for Mumma, are you?” Tom asked, trying to take his mind off the gnawing sensation in his chest.

“Not for me, but the teachers at Launch Pad tell me she’s a little escape artist,” Chyler reported as Kate reached out to the screen. “You know I went to pick her up yesterday and found her running up and down the hall?”

Tom’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“She must have slipped out while they were changing shifts,” Chyler jerked the tablet away. “Kate, stop.”

“I hope you had words with them.” Tom frowned.

“Tom, she’s fine.” The feed jumped as Chyler stood. “They have those tags for a reason. If she’d managed to get out of the building somehow it would have tripped the alarm.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” Tom sighed.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

Tom scowled. “Daddy instinct, all right?”

Kate stood up and batted the display again.

“Kate, don’t—don’t hit the End button!” Chyler jerked the tablet away.

“Dada!” Kate called.

“Hi, baby,” Tom chuckled as Chyler held the screen out of Kate’s reach. “Dada loves you.”

“Say ‘I love you’?” Chyler prompted.

“Ah ya yoo!” Kate responded, her tiny arms wrapping around her mother’s legs.

“Oh, I love you, Katie Bug.” Tom bit his tongue. He missed her so much. “Dada’s gonna see you next week, OK?”

“I can’t wait for you to get back,” Chyler said wearily.

“I can’t wait to be back.” Tom watched Kate toddle back to her toys. “Kate probably thinks her dad lives in a computer screen.”

“She does not,” Chyler assured.

“And I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this tin can,” Tom added. “I’m ready to breathe air that isn’t recycled. And not have metal dust all over me. And see a color besides gray.”

“The last couple weeks is always the worst.” Chyler turned the camera to face herself and sat on the couch. “We’ve both been down this road.”

“I know, I know.” Tom rested his chin on his hand and took in his wife’s face. “I ever tell you you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?”

“That’s your deployment goggles talking,” Chyler said with a poorly concealed smile.

“Learn to take a compliment, hon.”

“I—oh!” A crash interrupted whatever Chyler was going to say.

“Chyler?!” Tom sat up straighter in alarm as the tablet clattered to the floor.

“Shit!” Chyler exclaimed. “Kate!”

“Chyler!” Tom called loudly enough to draw some glances from the phone booth’s other occupants.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Chyler made a grunt of frustration. “You didn’t hear that, Kate.” Chyler picked up the tablet and pushed her hair off her face. “She knocked over that toy kitchen from your mum. I was afraid—”

“Shit!”

Tom’s jaw dropped. Chyler’s gaze shifted past the tablet.

“Shit!” Kate repeated the word with a toddler’s pride.

“Kate, remember, you didn’t hear Mumma say that,” Chyler said without looking at her husband.

Tom’s “Looks like she did” rebuttal got lost in laughter.

“Tom, stop laughing,” Chyler ordered.

Tom just shook his head. He was surely drawing even more attention to himself now.

“This isn’t funny,” Chyler continued.

“Yes, it is,” Tom managed to wheeze.

“Shit!” Kate hollered again.

“Kate, stop it,” Chyler admonished uselessly.

“Don’t give an order—” Tom had to stop and gather himself. “Don’t give an order you know won’t be obeyed.”

“What’s up with Lasky?” Tom heard someone ask behind him.

Tom wiped his eyes. “And you were always afraid she’d hear it from me.”

Chyler glared into the camera. “You’d better not tell any of your buddies about this.”

“There’s—” Tom looked around the room. “Eight other people in here! It’s too late!”

“You know what? You can stay in that tin can,” Chyler said. “And I hope you choke on metal dust.”

If he choked on metal dust now, at least he’d go happy. “Love you!” Tom grinned and waved at his bride.

Chyler ended the call, but not before Kate got the last four-letter word.

xxxxxx

Flying Fortress is a reference to the B-17. I thought it was a good name for a carrier.

The daycare story is based on Mr finding Bum Bum escaped from his Sunday School room one day.

#halo #married with a supercarrier au #Kate lasky #thomas lasky x chyler silva #halo fanfic by atbnl #Fanfic by atbnl

8 notes · View notes

tripleaxelrose · 2 years

Text

First Kiss #1: Mexico

Prompt: Nathan and Mariah got together waaaaaay later than everyone thinks.

Content warnings: A bit sexy. Involves a hot tub.

Middle of the night, Mexico. Everyone asleep, the air still warm, the lights from the hotels along the tourist strip painting a broad, bright stripe low across the horizon, or is it daylight creeping already? The cicadas chirp in drowsy unison.

Everyone asleep except her, all of them having padded back to their rooms on unsteady bare feet hours before.

The party never exactly gets wild, if it can even be called a party. They’re all alert enough at the end to remove their empties and dump them in the blue plastic recycling bin that stands just inside the suite door. It’s just a lot of laughing, jokes they can’t repeat not because they’re too dirty or insulting but because no one can ever remember them the next morning.

As everyone leaves, she spies two of her friends with their arms around each other’s shoulders, wound in such a way that it surprises her – a kind of intimacy she recognizes so immediately that it conjures a flat, jealous lurch across the bottom of her belly. Until this moment, she has no idea that they’re together. Together… in that way. And maybe they weren’t until tonight. Maybe they aren’t. Maybe it’s the air, heavy with humidity, the hot tub jets pressing against the smalls of their backs. Maybe it made them realize something.

She wonders idly what came next – if the two of them figured out how to quietly reshuffle their sleeping arrangements, one of them furtively trading keys with someone else, or if they dropped their arms, broke their touch, and went separately to their suites across the hall from each other, following along with the original plan. All of the room arrangements neatly delegated along platonic lines of friendship. Uncontroversial. A plan to combat tears, unnecessary complexity, awkwardness on the flight home. Awkwardness at breakfast. Awkwardness in the hot tub.

She finds herself hoping that they figured it out. How to find some time to themselves, in a room or somewhere else at the hotel, a nook to sneak away to. Her, the only one still outside, the hot tub jets long gone silent but the blue underwater lights still switched on. She roots for her friends, this odd new couple, in her heart.

She leans on her elbows on the rim of the tub, her legs idly kicking behind her. It’s too hot to stay fully submerged. She’s taken her bikini top off, tired of its itchy woven fabric against her sensitive skin, has slung it over the edge next to her. She watches the rooftops of the buildings, can still hear people partying on the street.

She knows she should go to bed. Pick up the last few empty bottles, cover the tub, dry off, wring out her hair, throw on clean underwear and a dry t-shirt and slide into the king-size bed on cool cotton sheets next to a girl she’s known since she was nine. Not him. Not someone who will touch her across the expanse of that too-big mattress.

And suddenly, all at once, she’s furious at Nathan.

I have been waiting in a really cute bikini in a hot tub all night long, she fumes. Ok, so there are people around. Ok, fine. Well, then let’s figure something out. We could get another room. We could go somewhere. We could, oh, I don’t know, have an actual conversation about it, imagine that.

But Nathan is asleep – one of the first to retire, as always. Running a hand through his floppy, humidity inflated hair, the water from the hot tub catching on the dark beads of the bracelet encircling his wrist. She is transfixed, imagining the beads pressing against her skin, when he sighs, standing up out of the water, the rivulets pouring off his back – narrow but corded with muscle – and she has to look away because she doesn’t trust what her face is doing.

“Ok, guys, I’m done,” he says. “Love you all. I’m turning into a pumpkin.”

“Ok, grandpa,” she quips, tossing back at him a different flavor of a phrase that he has dared to lob at her so often. When he is the one who needs twelve hours of beauty rest, forever mumbling something about it improving his performance, only he sounds more like a 75-year-old in a Viagra commercial than a 23-year-old Olympian.

Everyone laughs, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flashes a wicked grin in her direction, drops one hand into the water, and hits her with a single drenching splash. She shrieks and he laughs, but he continues back to his room, carefully closing the slider behind him to not let the air conditioning escape.

She thinks – stupidly, of course, how could she be so stupid – that tonight might be the night. But it turns out to be nothing – the sun, the afternoon spent lounging, sipping too-sweet drinks delivered on the hour by polo-shirted hotel staff. All of them a bit dizzy in the heat, Nathan in the chair next to her on his stomach, his cheek resting on his folded arms, his eyes disappeared behind a pair of new sunglasses – dark-tinted, designer. Again, her trying not to sneak glances at him, at the divot at the small of his bare back, his skin shining with some mega-caliber sunscreen. Because he is always so ridiculously responsible.

And she is just plain ridiculous, thinking that their weeks of flirtation were leading up to something. Weeks spent touring the country, appearing together on the ice every night, their eyes seeking out no one but each other during the group numbers, during dinner, the two of them always sitting together, one of his hands always idly brushing against her somewhere – her shoulder in her sequined costume or trailing along her spine while they snap a photo for a fan. Or once in the middle of a rehearsal, the choreographer halfway through the instructions, when Nathan idly reaches over and runs a hand under the hem at the back of her sweatshirt, his fingers resting warm on her bare skin underneath. It only lasts for an instant, but it sends her scurrying straight into the ladies room – skates still on, sitting on the closed lid of a toilet, pressing her hands against her burning cheeks for ten minutes while she pulls herself together. She emerges to concerned glances from a few of her female castmates, oblivious non-acknowledgement from the guys, and nothing from Nathan, until just before they all leave the ice to head back to the buses. When he winks at her.

He winks at her. How dare he?

And all the while, the banter between them stays mostly the same as it has always been, the two of them teasing each other about the same things they’ve been teasing each other about through decades of friendship. Him being boring and methodical. Her being a bit too loud, too forward, too perky, his word. But is he actually responsible? Boring? She cannot shake it, the feeling of his fingertips on her back, the way it radiates outward through her whole body an instant later, all of her slightly too warm. And is she too forward? Because here she is, in a knot of herself, grappling endlessly over whether to say something to him. Whether to keep quiet. Whether to pretend that everything is the way it has always been, all while she thinks of him at night, restless and awake, her hand between her legs.

She knows that she should just let it go.

Maybe he’s just riding the wave of confidence after his gold medal win. Maybe he’s trying these things on her because she’s just… there. She has always been there. And it’s a kind of experiment for him – like anything else he’d try in the lab at college. Just to bear something out. Test a theory. Maybe she is safe for him, the girl who will stay his friend no matter what happens and where his hands idly wander.

The more she thinks about it, the more she wants to strangle him, and the more she wants to weep for her idiot self. Besides, he’s going back to school soon. The time left for an experiment, even a failed one, runs short.

She stands up, feels the air – still warm but so much cooler than the water – hit her skin. She should really go inside. She crosses her arms, feels the goose flesh rise on her shoulders. She does not hear the sliding door glide open behind her. She is caught up looking at the lights, feeling the sadness pool in the pit of her stomach, liking the feeling of it – almost. It is better than feeling nothing. Better than being just friends.

“Hey.”

She spins around, startled, not thinking. When it registers who it is, she scrambles for her bikini top but only manages to clutch it, limp and too small to cover anything, against her skin.

And him? He stands there in his swim trunks, barefoot and smooth skinned, his hair still mussed from sleep. And he is deadly silent for an instant, his eyes adjusting to the site of her standing there. She notices a muscle twitch in his jaw. Then he does something that fully enrages her. He smiles.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sheepish, looking away from her, down at his hands, at a nondescript spot somewhere over her left shoulder. He’s still smiling.

“Nathan.”

“I’ll just… I’ll go back inside. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Nathan.”

“No, It’s OK, really. I didn’t realize…” He backs away from her more slowly than his nervous voice betrays.

“Nathan, get back here and stop being an idiot.”

He freezes. Holds up his hands like she’s pointed a gun at him. His grin settles into something else, a wry look of amusement, but his feet don’t move.

“If you came out here to get in the hot tub, get in the hot tub,” she says, trying hard to maintain her irritation, trying harder to ignore the flutter of nervousness in her chest. “Just… give me a second.”

She turns her back to him, begins the work of untangling the strings of her top so she can put it back on. As much as she has wanted him to notice her on this trip, she suddenly feels shy and more than a bit foolish in front of him. He hasn’t seen much of her, she reasons. He wouldn’t care even if he did. Mostly, she just wants to go back to her room. To leave him to his late-night soak, to curl up in bed and feel the empty ache inside her, to not hand him any more opportunities to soothe it away – opportunities he will inevitably squander.

She thinks she’s hearing things at first, but then he says it again, unmistakeable.

“No.”

She ignores him, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot in one strap. When he gets into the tub behind her, the water ripples around her thighs.

“Turn around.”

It is less a request than a command, and she feels it, the knife of desire cut through her. Her hands stop moving. She feels him move closer more than she sees it, and by the time he is just a few inches away, facing her still-turned back, she is shivering, and not from the air.

“Come on,” he says, more gently this time, and when she turns to face him, she crosses her arms to cover herself again – she can’t help it – the bikini top still wound around her fingers. His sheepishness vanished, he reaches toward her and she startles, hugging herself even more tightly for an instant before they both dissolve into a fit of laughter.

When they are both serious again, he lifts a soggy tendril of hair that’s stuck to her shoulder, brushes it behind her back.

“Can I look?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. When she doesn’t move, he reaches down and touches the backs of her hands, draws them gently away from her breasts. She feels lightheaded, can feel her heartbeat pounding on the surface of her skin. He untangles the bikini top from her fingers, drops it into the water beside them without a sound.

She almost wants him to step back and give her a leering once-over. Imagines her retort. (Take a picture, it’ll last longer.) Because she can’t fall to pieces now. Won’t let him know that she’s been waiting. And waiting. Won’t give him the satisfaction.

But he doesn’t stare at her body. He barely moves, in fact, except to raise a hand to the side of her face, to trace the edge of her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. He looks nowhere but in her eyes, his own flickering with something hungry, suddenly deadly serious.

“You know,” she says, steadying herself, reaching for her last grain of resolve, “It’s pretty ridiculous that you haven’t kissed me, y…”

His mouth is on hers before she can get the last syllable out and it dissolves into something else as it leaves her, a wordless gasp against his parted lips. Because he doesn’t just kiss her. He kisses her with such urgency – but somehow still slow, so slowly – that her knees wobble. When he presses her against him, her bare skin against his chest, she wraps her arms around his neck partly because she cannot bear another moment of not touching him, and partly to stop herself from tumbling into the water.

When he abruptly breaks off the kiss and laughs, soft, his breath against her lips, his arms still around her, she wills herself not to worry. Not to think that she failed this part of the experiment.

“What?” She doesn’t mean to sound pleading, but she doesn’t quite trust it, the sudden amusement in his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he says, his voice a raspy whisper in the almost-dark, the warm water sloshing around them. Then it’s her turn to laugh.

“I… yeah, I definitely wanted you to. Want to. I mean.”

“Oh really?”

He’s teasing her now, one hand idly tracing the vertical line of her spine as he presses her close. He knows, more than knows, she wants to. When he bends down to place a kiss on her shoulder, runs the backs of his fingers – finally, she thinks, desperate and slightly impatient – against the hardening knot of one of her nipples, she steps back and takes him by the hand.

She guides him down beside her, relieved to be submerged up to her shoulders. Knowing he can feel more of her than he can see, it makes her feel less nervous, more sure of herself. His fingers find ties on her swimsuit bottoms, reach lower with a precision that leaves her moaning, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. She wonders idly how far this can or should go, and finds the answer in short order. If she is the experiment, she realizes, she is more than willing to let him try any of the variables he likes. And there are more than she expects.

She is wrangling the waistband of his soggy swim trunks, her breathing ragged, when he stops her. (Because he is responsible, of course. Because no one has said a word about a condom. Because maybe he changed his mind about her. About this. About everything.)

Instead of drawing away from her, though – she can imagine it so clearly, him stepping out of the hot tub and back into the hotel room without a word – he hovers in closer, presses a soft kiss against her lips.

“We should probably slow down,” he says, the regret in his voice palpable. “Unfortunately.”

“I don’t want you to slow down,” she says, suddenly, before she can stop herself. “I want to… I want you.”

Well, she thinks. I’ve done it now. This is the part where he will walk away. Leave her to retrieve the scraps of her cute new bathing suit, maybe level a splash evenly in her face as he departs. He will leave her to empty the recycling bin of empties, even. She is so sure.

Instead he laughs. “And I have never wanted anything in my life more than I want you right now. As… uh, you probably realized. But we should probably talk.”

“I know.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I know.”

“I’m leaving but I don’t want to leave you,” he says.

She moves to stand – because she is worried about what she might say or do, if she might cry or shout at him or collapse on his shoulder – all minor disasters. But he stops her again. Lays a hand on her shoulder. Steps gingerly out of the hot tub and crosses the deck in the darkness.

He comes back with one of the enormous, high-thread-count towels that they’ve all been lounging on, tossing into soggy piles in corners, all day. He holds it out for her, end to end.

“Come on,” he says. “I won’t look.”

‘Sure you won’t,” she laughs.

“Ok, I might look a little bit.”

Wrapping it around her, he turns her around, rubs her shoulders like someone would do to comfort a little kid, help them warm up after leaving the comfort of the warm water for the cool air. She is not cold.

“I wish we had a place to go,” she says. “Where we could actually talk, I mean.”

“Yeah, all bedrooms occupied in there,” he says, gesturing back to the suite of rooms. “A little more occupied than expected, I think.”

“Oh you saw that?”

“I saw it. I heard it in there too, unfortunately.” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “I was surprised.”

“Same.”

“But also not surprised, in a way. They kind of make sense.”

“Do you think we make any sense?”

He smiles but doesn’t answer, extends an arm to guide her to the other side of the balcony, to where there’s an empty lounger. He’s laid out another towel on it, something she didn’t notice when he left her in the hot tub. He sits on it sideways, makes a motion for her to sit next to him and she does, awkward, their shoulders touching, her wrapped in the towel, careful to keep herself covered although she doesn’t quite know why. He has just seen – has touched – so much.

“This is stupid. We should just lay down,” she says.

“Oh, thank god. OK,” he says, exhaling with relief.

They maneuver themselves side-by-side on the lounger with more than a little effort, peals of half-stifled giggles, and a genuine – and mostly failed – effort on her part to keep most of her sensitive areas covered. The party on the street below has quieted down, the breeze picked up. She shivers and he holds her close. They watch the starless sky, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s breathing.

“What if we fall asleep like this?” she wonders, breaking their long silence.

“Everyone will find us in the morning. And they will wonder what happened to your bathing suit.”

“Oh, I should get it out of there! Gross.”

“Shh, come on. Lay back down. You’ll get it later,” he says, resettling her against his chest. He places a kiss on her forehead. She can feel it, the goose flesh rising on his arms.

“Everyone’s going to have a lot of questions in the morning,” she says.

He lets out a laugh, brushes her damp hair off her back. “Somehow, I don’t think they’ll be surprised.”

#nathan x mariah #mariah bell #nathan chen #my fic #oneshot #first kiss challenge

11 notes · View notes

joshua1blog · 20 days

Text

Streamlining Space: The Crucial Role of OrindaJunkRemoval in Orinda, CA

In the heart of Orinda, CA, where the charm of suburban living meets the convenience of urban amenities, the battle against clutter is a constant struggle for residents and businesses alike. From old furniture gathering dust in basements to construction debris littering job sites, the need for efficient junk removal services is undeniable. Enter Junk Removal Services Orinda CA, a trusted name in the community, offering indispensable solutions for reclaiming space and restoring order.

OrindaJunkRemoval stands as a beacon of reliability and professionalism in the realm of junk removal services in Orinda, CA. With a dedication to customer satisfaction and a commitment to environmentally responsible practices, this company has earned the trust and admiration of locals seeking to declutter their lives.

The primary allure of junk removal services lies in their ability to transform chaos into clarity by liberating spaces from the shackles of accumulated clutter. Whether it's a residential property burdened by years of neglect or a commercial establishment undergoing renovations, OrindaJunkRemoval swoops in with precision and efficiency to restore order. Their team of skilled professionals possesses the expertise and equipment necessary to tackle even the most daunting junk removal tasks, leaving properties looking refreshed and revitalized.

But the benefits of junk removal extend beyond mere aesthetics. In a community as pristine and environmentally conscious as Orinda, sustainable waste management practices are paramount. OrindaJunkRemoval recognizes this imperative and is committed to minimizing its ecological footprint through responsible disposal and recycling efforts. Rather than simply discarding items into landfills, they prioritize salvaging and recycling materials whenever feasible, thus contributing to the preservation of the environment and the promotion of a circular economy.

Moreover, OrindaJunkRemoval prioritizes convenience and customer satisfaction above all else. Scheduling a junk removal service is a breeze, with flexible appointment times tailored to accommodate the needs of clients. Whether it's a last-minute cleanout or a meticulously planned renovation project, OrindaJunkRemoval delivers prompt and reliable service, alleviating the stress and hassle associated with junk removal.

Safety is also a top priority for OrindaJunkRemoval. Certain items may pose risks during handling and transportation, requiring specialized equipment and expertise to ensure safe removal. OrindaJunkRemoval's team of professionals undergoes rigorous training and adheres to stringent safety protocols, ensuring that the removal process is executed smoothly and without incident, giving clients peace of mind throughout the entire process.

In essence, OrindaJunkRemoval plays a pivotal role in streamlining spaces and revitalizing communities in Orinda, CA. Their unwavering commitment to excellence, coupled with their dedication to sustainability and customer satisfaction, sets them apart as leaders in the industry. By entrusting their junk removal needs to OrindaJunkRemoval, residents and businesses alike can breathe easy knowing that their spaces will be transformed from cluttered chaos to organized tranquility, leaving a lasting impact on the community and the environment.

0 notes

dumpsternearmeqc · 4 months

Text

Streamlined Waste Management Solutions with Davenport Dumpster Rental Service

Wide Range of Dumpster Sizes:

One of the key strengths of Davenport Dumpster Rental Service lies in its diverse selection of dumpster sizes. Whether you are tackling a small home renovation project or managing the waste generated by a large construction site, the company provides a variety of containers to suit your needs. From compact 10-yard dumpsters to expansive 40-yard options, clients can choose the size that best accommodates their specific project requirements.

Flexible Rental Durations:

Understanding the unique timelines associated with various projects, Davenport Dumpster Rental Service stands out by offering flexible rental durations. Clients can choose from short-term rentals for quick clean-up tasks or opt for longer-term solutions for ongoing construction projects. This flexibility ensures that customers only pay for the duration they need, minimizing costs and maximizing efficiency.

Prompt Delivery and Pickup:

Timeliness is crucial in the waste management industry, and Davenport Dumpster Rental Service excels in providing prompt delivery and pickup services. The company's efficient logistics ensure that dumpsters are delivered to the specified location on time, ready to accommodate the waste generated. Likewise, once the project is completed or the dumpster is filled, a quick and hassle-free pickup is scheduled to maintain the project's momentum.

Environmentally Conscious Practices:

In an era where environmental sustainability is a top priority, Waste Dumpster Rental in Silvis is committed to responsible waste disposal practices. The company adheres to local regulations and employs environmentally friendly disposal methods, promoting recycling and proper waste segregation whenever possible. This commitment not only aligns with environmental standards but also contributes to the community's overall well-being.

Transparent Pricing Structure:

Davenport Dumpster Rental Service takes pride in its transparent pricing structure, ensuring that clients are fully aware of the costs associated with their rental. Hidden fees and surprises are eliminated, allowing customers to budget effectively for their waste management needs. The company's competitive rates, coupled with its commitment to service quality, make it a preferred choice for both residential and commercial clients.

Dedicated Customer Support:

Exceptional customer service is at the core of Davenport Dumpster Rental Service's ethos. The company's knowledgeable and friendly staff is ready to assist clients in choosing the right dumpster size, understanding rental terms, and addressing any concerns throughout the process. This commitment to customer satisfaction enhances the overall experience and fosters lasting relationships with clients.

0 notes

dalalsteel · 9 months

Text

Revolutionizing Construction: Steel Buildings and Prefab Houses in Lebanon

In recent years, the construction industry in Lebanon has witnessed a paradigm shift, embracing modern techniques and materials that offer unparalleled efficiency, cost-effectiveness, and sustainability. Among these advancements, steel buildings and prefab houses have emerged as game-changers, revolutionizing the way structures are designed and erected. This article explores the rise of steel buildings manufacturers and prefabricated houses in Lebanon, shedding light on the benefits and impact of these innovative construction solutions.

Steel Buildings Manufacturers in Lebanon

https://justpaste.it/img/small/a89b8fe6531d3f98047792e9453f4769.jpg

Steel buildings have gained popularity in Lebanon due to their versatility and robustness. As urbanization continues, the demand for commercial and industrial spaces has surged, prompting the rise of steel buildings manufacturers in the country. These companies offer comprehensive services, including design, engineering, fabrication, and installation.

The use of steel in construction provides numerous advantages over traditional materials like concrete and wood. Steel structures are known for their high strength-to-weight ratio, allowing for larger clear-span spaces and increased design flexibility. Moreover, steel buildings are earthquake-resistant, crucial in Lebanon, an area prone to seismic activity.

Prefab Steel Buildings in Lebanon

The concept of prefab (short for prefabricated) construction has taken the world by storm, and Lebanon is no exception. Prefab steel buildings are pre-engineered and manufactured off-site, and then assembled at the construction site. This approach significantly reduces construction time and minimizes on-site labor requirements.

In addition to saving time and costs, prefab steel buildings offer eco-friendly benefits. The controlled factory environment ensures minimal material waste, and the use of recycled steel further reduces the carbon footprint. The construction process produces less noise and disruption, making prefab steel buildings an ideal choice for urban areas.

Steel Prefabricated Houses in Lebanon

https://justpaste.it/img/small/e8fa4a3d3f998f3336e7966861a14ce0.png

The rise of prefabricated houses made from steel has also been prominent in Lebanon's residential sector. These prefabricated homes offer a faster, more efficient, and affordable alternative to traditional brick-and-mortar houses.

Steel prefabricated houses are customizable, ensuring that each home meets the unique needs and preferences of homeowners. With advancements in design and technology, these houses can be aesthetically appealing while providing the comfort and durability of conventional homes.

Benefits of Steel Structures

Steel structures have several inherent advantages that contribute to their widespread adoption in Lebanon's construction industry:

Strength and Durability: Steel's inherent strength and durability ensure that the structures can withstand harsh weather conditions and last for decades with minimal maintenance.

Sustainability: Steel is a highly recyclable material, making it an eco-friendly choice for environmentally conscious construction projects.

Speed of Construction: Prefabricated steel buildings and houses are quicker to construct than traditional structures, reducing overall project timelines.

Cost-Effectiveness: Though the initial investment may be slightly higher, the long-term cost benefits, coupled with reduced maintenance expenses, make steel structures a financially viable option.

Flexibility in Design: Steel's versatility allows architects and engineers to create innovative and unconventional designs, pushing the boundaries of modern architecture.

Used Prefab Houses for Sale in Lebanon

As the popularity of prefab houses grows, the market for used prefab houses has also emerged. Used prefab houses offer an affordable housing solution for those seeking cost-effective living spaces without compromising on quality.

Potential buyers of used prefab houses should exercise due diligence by inspecting the structure for any signs of wear and tear. While used prefab houses can be a great option, it is essential to ensure that the building meets safety and quality standards.

The advent of steel buildings manufacturers and the rising popularity of prefab houses have transformed the construction landscape in Lebanon. From commercial and industrial structures to residential dwellings, steel's superior properties have revolutionized the way buildings are designed, constructed, and used. As the construction industry in Lebanon continues to evolve, embracing these innovative and sustainable solutions will undoubtedly shape a brighter and more resilient future for the nation's infrastructure.

For more info :-

Dalal prefabricated houses Lebanon

Pre engineered steel buildings manufacturer Lebanon

Prefab building company Lebanon

Prefabricated building manufacturers Lebanon

Prefabricated house manufacturers Lebanon

Steel Buildings Manufacturers in Lebanon

https://justpaste.it/img/small/a89b8fe6531d3f98047792e9453f4769.jpg

Prefab Steel Buildings in Lebanon

Steel Prefabricated Houses in Lebanon

https://justpaste.it/img/small/e8fa4a3d3f998f3336e7966861a14ce0.png

Benefits of Steel Structures

Steel structures have several inherent advantages that contribute to their widespread adoption in Lebanon's construction industry:

Strength and Durability: Steel's inherent strength and durability ensure that the structures can withstand harsh weather conditions and last for decades with minimal maintenance.

Sustainability: Steel is a highly recyclable material, making it an eco-friendly choice for environmentally conscious construction projects.

Speed of Construction: Prefabricated steel buildings and houses are quicker to construct than traditional structures, reducing overall project timelines.

Cost-Effectiveness: Though the initial investment may be slightly higher, the long-term cost benefits, coupled with reduced maintenance expenses, make steel structures a financially viable option.

Flexibility in Design: Steel's versatility allows architects and engineers to create innovative and unconventional designs, pushing the boundaries of modern architecture.

Used Prefab Houses for Sale in Lebanon

For more info :-

Dalal prefabricated houses Lebanon

Pre engineered steel buildings manufacturer Lebanon

Prefab building company Lebanon

Prefabricated building manufacturers Lebanon

Prefabricated house manufacturers Lebanon

1 note · View note

wristbandsblog · 1 year

Text

The Best Fabric Wristbands for your Favorite Occasions

Wristbands are an essential item when it comes to organising any event where a large number of people congregate. Large gatherings of people pose huge security and management challenges to the organisers.

One of the simplest and most effective ways to control the crowds and manage the event smoothly is to issue wristbands to the attendees. Among the various types of wristbands available, Tyvek/paper wristbands are considered the ideal choice for events due to their durability, cost-effectiveness, and practicality.

However, paper wristbands do not last beyond a couple of days and are therefore suited for 2-day events. Fabric wristbands on the other hand last for weeks without any wear and tear. Festival wristbands can be worn for months sometimes and are ideal for long-term use. They can also be made from recycled plastic which is great for the environment.

Fabric wristbands are also considered a good choice simply because they are durable and more importantly, very comfortable on the skin. The best fabric wristbands for your favorite occasions are made from materials like woven fabric threads, satin, silkscreen, or sublimated.

Fabric wristbands are considered to be premium quality as compared to Tyvek or paper wristbands. The woven threads of a fabric wristband give them a handmade feel, something that customers prefer. They are generally chosen to make festival wristbands.

With fabric wristbands, customisation is a simple matter of providing the artwork to be printed on the band. The wristbands can be customised to add logos, brand images, or text. This is done with the help of specialised machinery used for printing on the wristband.

An RFID chip can be added to a fabric festival wristband allowing electronic control of the purchase of food or merchandise at the event. Many event organisers make use of this latest technology to manage the event smoothly. It ensures that there is no need for change to be given and the transaction is much faster meaning that there are minimal queues.

Often attendees of music and theatre festivals continue to wear their wristbands long after the event, as a memento. A customised fabric wristband often doubles up as a trendy fashion accessory for some folks. Since the fabric festival wristband has a removable locking mechanism, it can be removed and worn again, prompting many fashion-conscious folks to use it as a fashion accessory. It goes to show how comfortable fabric wristbands can turn out to be when they are worn even after they are no longer required.

Wristbanseurope.com is a reputed supplier of all types of wristbands for your events. The company gives you the option to design your own fabric wristband using the online designing tool. Or, customers can provide the artwork in the correct dimensions. Production time for customised fabric wristbands is 10-14 days. The company is committed to providing quick shipping services all over Europe to cities and venues in all countries.

If you need the best fabric wristbands for your favorite occasion, head to wristbandseurope.com. The company offers a wide selection of fabric wristbands in a variety of colours. You can choose from among plain coloured bands or get them customized as per need. Select the type of closure required and then confirm the quantity before placing the order online for the best prices.

#Fabric wristbands #festival wristbands #customised fabric wristbands #Festival Wristbands for long term events #Sublimated bands #Fabric Wristbands for Festivals #Custom woven Festival Wristbands for long term events

0 notes

bearholdingashark · 3 years

Photo

Cablanca Week 2021: July 12 - July 18

Welcome to Cablanca Week 2021! Any type of fanwork/expression of love for this amazing ship is welcome: fic, art, graphics/edits, gifsets, fanvids, fanmixes, meta, headcanons, etc, with no minimum requirements. There is also no pressure to post everyday, so participate as much or as little as you would like!

Make sure to tag #cablancaweek21 so we can see everything! (Also feel free to tag me. :) I’ll be reblogging everything.)

Monday, July 12th: Beginnings

Tuesday, July 13th: Home

Wednesday, July 14th: Tropes

Thursday, July 15th: Partners

Friday, July 16th: WIPs

Saturday, July 17th: Crossover/Fusion

Sunday, July 18th: Free Choice

Reblogs are appreciated to get the word out!

(I won’t be tagging people in future posts, but wanted to tag the people who had expressed interest: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @nothingeverlost, @gracefulanimation)

ETA: Fixed the image with dates so it's correct!

#Cablanca #Knives Out #Marta x Benoit #Marta Cabrera #Benoit Blanc #cablancaweek21 #a couple prompts are recycled from last time #because I liked them #I'm so excited!

34 notes · View notes

lokislastlove · 2 years

Note

would you rather obsessive neighbor Peter parker. he always finds a way to finness his way into your apartment. Or Uber driver Bucky. somehow he always ends up picking up your driving request. His car is a super popular car so you arent sure if he is stalking you or it a coincidence

Ok so this kind of inspired a little drabble (seriously how do you do this to me every time?) basically I love creepy neighbors and this is where my mind went…. 😬 🖤🤍🖤🤍

Sticky Situation (Dark!Peter x Reader)

Summary: You develop a crush on a new neighbor.

Notes: no real warnings other than implied kidnapping and dark Peter. It’s a drabble under 2k. 🤍

—

The front door finally gives after a moment of pushing, heavy metal dragging loudly over the permanently scratched frame. Like most people in the city, you look forward to getting home after a long work day. But, for you, the best moment of your day is when you get to check your mail.

Smiling, you walk across the narrow lobby and toward the shining wall of mailboxes. You unlock your box and, like clockwork, the guy from apartment 4E steps up a few feet away before you’ve had the chance to flip through all the junk mail.

It’s been three months since you moved in and not a single work day has passed where he hasn't been there to greet you with a smile and shy “hey”. At first you found it a bit creepy, but he never made a move, or said anything weird, he barely looked at you long enough to make you uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you put this in my box?” He asks pleadingly as he adjusts his glasses.

“Uh,” voice stutters as you read the flyer in his hand, “sadly, no. I am not a member of the building’s doom metal band.”

You fight a smile and he chuckles. Damn, even his laugh is adorable. You flick through your mail one more time, trying to drag out the time before he slams his mailbox closed. You follow quickly, but not too quickly, you don’t want him to think you’re a creep. Stuffing the junk mail into the recycle bin, you hover a couple feet behind him as you wait for the elevator.

He hums along to the song on his single earbud and fidgets with the keys in his hand. Perfectly casual, like he doesn’t even realize you’re there. You take the time to appreciate the view his tight jeans give you, a hint of a shapely firm ass and thighs. He definitely works out.

The elevator dings and you suck in a quick breath as you timidly enter the small space beside him. He smiles at you as he presses your floor and then his floor without prompting. You both have done this so many times it doesn’t need to be said anymore.

“Thanks,” you mutter automatically as you stare at your shoes and hold your purse strap tightly.

“My pleasure,” he returns, smirking when he catches you look up at the way his voice deepens.

The elevator dings and you step out with a nervous, “goodnight,” and small wave.

“See you,” he smiles brushing back his curly locks.

God, why can’t you be cooler? Why can you never think of something funny or interesting to say to keep him talking? Always safer to stay quiet than embarrass yourself, you suppose. You drag your feet to your door, sighing at the prospect of wasting another lonely night of junk food and tv. If only you could be spontaneous for once in your life.

—

Friday is bittersweet as you celebrate the end of the workweek but also the last day you get to see 4E for two days. You go to your mailbox, smiling in anticipation as you shove in the key and twist. You pull out the measly stack of junk and flip through it slowly as you glance around the lobby for him. He must be late. You move to the trash can at the end of the row, and use up some time cleaning out your purse. Still no sign of him.

You slowly re-read and toss each piece of junk mail until you are left with a single envelope, probably more ads. Disappointment tugs at your shoulders as you sigh at the empty lobby. He’s not coming.

You tear open the envelope, ignoring the hand written address on the front and pull out a single piece of lined notebook paper. You unfold it with a frown and begin to read the hastily written note in black marker.

“Hey 3E! I have to go out of town for a day or two and didn’t want you to think I ditched you on our nightly elevator ride. Truth is I am a coward and couldn’t get the courage to ask you properly on a date. Which makes the fact that I’m asking you for a favor even more embarrassing...The problem is I left my cat, Padme, at home alone. I thought that maybe you could stop in and check on her maybe give her some catnip from the cabinet above the stove to keep her happy. No pressure, though! She’ll survive, she has food and water. But, if you're feeling neighborly, I keep a key taped under the door mat. Thank you so much! I’ll see you soon – Peter (aka 4E).”

You read the note through multiple times in disbelief, laughing again at the post script at the bottom reading, “just please don’t steal my stuff, my cat is very possessive of her things. ;)”

You bite your lip as you think it over, your first thought is instantly, “Aw poor kitty.” You don’t really see a downside, in fact, he’s the one risking the most by trusting a total stranger to enter his home. But the curiosity compels you into the elevator where you promptly press the button for the fourth floor.

You stand outside, staring at the 4E on the door and listening for any indication he might be home… just incase his plans changed. But, there is nothing but silence for several minutes. You nudge the mat with your toe and flip up the top corner, instantly spotting the black duct tape camouflaged across the rubber bottom.

You glance down the hall, nervous to be accused of breaking and entering as you pluck the silver key from under the tape. With a deep breath you unlock the door and poke your head into the dim apartment. Nothing but the stove top light and one standing lamp in the corner to light the entire space.

The floor plan is similar to yours, open kitchen and living space with a bedroom and bathroom down the short hall, though his has a distinctly more bachelor-pad vibe. The dark leather furniture and exposed brick seem to absorb what little light there is and you squint as you look around for the cat.

“Hello?” You call nervously through the still air.

You step inside and close the door, the last thing you need is to go searching for an escaped cat. Seeing his home feels oddly intimate, especially without him there. It makes you fidget, like you’re doing something wrong even though you had, in fact, been invited.

You're pleasantly surprised by the modern decor blended with the nerdy memorabilia. Clearly, he has some style based on cohesive look and his neat placement of his most prized possessions, like the signed replica of Captain America’s shield on the wall, something you would definitely consider stealing.

A soft meow cuts through the silence and your eyes spot the small tabby cat blinking at you from the end of the dark hall.

“Hi, Padme,” you lilt sweetly. “Aren't you a cutie. I didn’t know your dad was such a nerd, but I find that pretty cute too.”

She meows again, clearly unimpressed with you and skitters into the dark back room. You call after her and follow instinctively, listening for her soft mews and the clack of her claws on the wood floor as you get closer.

You reach around the door frame, feeling around for a light switch but find none. “Spspsp, come on Padme. You want some catnip? Come on out baby.”

There is a scuffle and a startled cat cry from within and you panic as you move inside holding your hands out to keep yourself from running into anything.

“Kitty? Here kitty, are you ok?” you worry as you timidly take a couple more steps forward, sweeping your hands out in front of you.

You pull your hand back with a gasp at the feel of something wet and sticky. You pause and slowly put your hand out again, “Padme?”

Your hand runs into a long string like line, and your first thought is a clothes line, but why is it sticky? Ick, maybe it better not to know why. You go to release the line but your hand refuses to open. You bring your other hand up to pull it off of you but you end up trapping both hands to the line.

Panic flairs instantly as you tug against the cord, kicking out in fear as more parts of your body become tangled in the invisible web-like trap. But that’s not possible, or at least... it shouldn’t be.

“Help! Help me!” You scream as your body becomes completely bound in the gluey strands, but no one hears you.

Hours pass and your voice turns scratchy, burning with pain as your body slumps in exhaustion but is held upright by your unyielding bonds. The harder you fight the more secure your restraints become until you are completely paralyzed and hanging dumbly, waiting for someone to find you.

The morning light rises, and your eyes adjust to the dim light, black out curtains keeping most of the light out even as the peak of the day comes and goes. You have no idea how long you’ve been there crying and pleading to the silence, but as the orange sunset shines through the tight blinds you finally hear the front door open and close.

“Hello?” You croak, every inch of you aching and stiff as you are forced to listen to the slow steady footsteps.

They seem unhurried, relaxed even, though you know they must have heard you. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest in terror. A light switch flicks on in the hallway, bathing you in a bright light at your back. You watch as a shadow grows along the ground. Its the most you can see as your head is stuck facing the other direction, awkwardly.

“Peter?” You whimper quietly as you feel a heat along your back.

He chuckles against you ear and whispers darkly, “caught ya.”

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @queenoftheworldisdead @threeminutesoflife @emberenchanted @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @thiskindahotkindamusic @caffiend-queen

#dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark fic #MCU #Drabble #creepy neighbor

552 notes · View notes

liaromancewriter · 2 years

Text

Too Late for Regrets

Premise: When Ethan Ramsey gets a second chance to build a relationship with his mother, he wonders if it’s too late for forgiveness.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,420

A/N: I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 135, which will appear in bold. Also submitting to @choicesfebruary2022challenge Day 20 prompt “Unrequited”

The floor of the dinghy motel room in Southie was littered with old newspapers and takeout menus. The wastepaper basket under the banged-up table in the corner was overflowing with carboard containers mixed with used syringes.

Louise Ramsey lay flat on the bed staring at the ceiling as she waited for the heroine to kick in from her last dose. The needle she’d used to inject the drug rolled off the lumpy bed, falling on the mud-colored carpet with a soft clink.

Sweat poured off her forehead, made worse by the window painted shut covered with riot bars and the ceiling fan that just recycled the warm air.

A voice on the TV chained to the wall droned on about some virus or the other in some godforsaken jungle somewhere. But she wasn’t paying attention until she heard a name that had her lifting her spinning head off the thin pillow.

There on the flickering screen was a face that reminded her of one that she hadn’t seen in twenty-five years; so familiar and yet so austere and unlike the man she had once loved.

“Ethan,” she whispered with recognition before sweet oblivion took over.

-------------

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” griped Ethan Ramsey to the woman seated next to him in the car as they drove to the rehab facility outside the city.

“Because I threatened to have you paged as Doctor Scaredy Pants if you didn’t,” quipped Cassie Valentine.

She didn’t bother looking up as she flipped through the information folder Ethan had received from the facility ahead of Family Day. The weekend was intended as a group therapy session with the patient’s immediate family members.

A couple of months ago, she had accompanied Ethan on the same route as he drove his mother to begin her drug rehabilitation treatment. With her encouragement, he agreed to give Louise a second chance, wanting to let go of the anger that had been so much a part of the young, abandoned boy.

Cassie had known, even if he hadn’t realized it then, that any chance the two of them had of being in a normal relationship was dependent upon him giving his mother a second chance, even if forgiveness would be a long time coming. If ever.

Ethan gave her a sideways look. “Do you honestly think I would have cared about that?”

“Since we’re almost there, I would say you did care,” she countered, glancing up at him.

“Hrm,” was all he said, turning his attention back to the road.

Twenty minutes later, he parked the car and switched off the engine. Instead of exiting the car, he took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was wont to do when frustrated.

“Ethan, please talk to me,” said Cassie quietly when he remained silent.

She reached across the console and took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. His thumb stroked the back of her hand and she saw him struggle to voice his thoughts. She squeezed his hand, letting him know she was here and to take his time.

Eventually, he turned his head towards her, his blue eyes stormy and uncertain as he stared off into the distance rather than make eye contact.

“We both know the cycle of addiction is never ending,” he started only to stop before he shifted his eyes to meet hers. “Today is about following the steps, making amends to those that have been harmed. As a doctor, I know it’s an important part of a patient’s recovery…”

He trailed off and Cassie understood his hesitation.

“But as the one that was harmed, you’re not sure if it’s too late for regrets,” she concluded. “The person who deserves to be asked for forgiveness is the eleven-year-old boy who had his entire childhood ripped apart. You’re not him, not anymore.”

“No, I’m not,” he nodded. “I made something of myself because it was what I needed. It might have started as a reaction to the whispers that followed my dad and I those first few years after she left. But, somewhere along the way, it stopped being about her and became about the person I wanted to be.”

“Are you worried that saying that today would derail her treatment?” she asked.

“Yes. She can’t make amends to someone that no longer exists.”

Before she could follow through on that, she saw Alan Ramsey’s car pull in beside Ethan’s. He waved at them through the window before exiting the car.

Ethan twisted in his seat to give his father the signal that he needed a few more minutes. Alan nodded and leaned against the trunk while he waited.

“Do you want to know what I think? Semi-professionally?” she said, referring to her background in psychology.

When he nodded, staring ahead rather than at her, she continued. “That little boy is still inside you and he needs to hear her apology and her regrets, even if the man you’ve become doesn’t. And Louise needs to say the words to both of you because she has to own up to her mistakes. The steps exist for a reason and the process must be respected. But Ethan…”

He turned to face her when she tightened her grip on their joined hands and he heard the urgency in her voice.

“Your father needs to hear her make amends to you,” she said. “This is as much for him as it is for you. As a parent, he might feel that he failed you. But you need to show him that he didn’t.”

“Of course, he didn’t fail me,” scoffed Ethan. “He did the best he could as a single parent.”

“He is still a parent and he might see his failure to keep Louise happy as not protecting you,” she told him. “My parents are always in sync, but they blamed themselves for not protecting me from the poison attack. That’s what parents do. So, when you find yourself doubting the process, think about him.”

Cassie wondered if she might have gone too far, but the grim expression on his face lightened and his lips curved into a small smile.

“You’re right,” he said. “I promise I’ll keep an open mind this weekend.”

“That’s all you can do, Ethan,” she said. “Take it one day at a time. No one is asking for more than that of you.”

He reached across the console to cup her cheek, pulling her in for a long kiss. His lips glided over hers, parting them with his tongue and she met him halfway. Her hands clutched his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. It was over all too soon as he let her go, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You give me strength, Cassie. I hope you know that.”

“It goes both ways,” she said. “I told you a year ago when you were still fighting the inevitability of us that we’re better together.”

“Are you seriously saying, ‘I told you so’ right now?” he said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with silent laughter.

“Gotta get my digs where I can, babe,” she retorted. “How many times will I get the chance to tell the Ethan Ramsey that I was right and he was wrong?”

He shook his head in amusement before turning to pop open the trunk, unfastening his seatbelt and swinging open the car door.

“Don’t speed on your way back to the city,” he warned, handing her the car keys.

“Please,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she too exited the car. “The cops will never catch me.”

“Not the point, Rookie,” he said, glaring at her across the car roof. “This car has never been pulled over for anything, and we’re not breaking that record now.”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

She had never received a speeding ticket either. Not that Mister Responsible believed her. Besides, what he didn’t know couldn’t get her into trouble.

Alan Ramsey walked over and Cassie exchanged pleasantries as Ethan grabbed his overnight bag from the trunk.

She watched father and son walk inside—Ethan’s stride more certain than it had been this morning when they left his apartment—and knew that everything would be alright.

Maybe not today or tomorrow; but one day, he would look back on this moment and know that it was never too late to make amends for regrets.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging in reblog

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choicesfebruary2022 #choices open heart #open heart fanfics #fiction

58 notes · View notes

capturethechaos · 2 years

Note

45 & Danny

fluff

Words - 601

Prompt 45. “Who ate all the chocolates from the advent calendar?”

a/n - I'm sorry for the super late updates the past couple days, I'm really cutting it down to the minutes with these blurbs, I'm just going through some shit. But I am bound and determined to get these out for y'all I promise.

Danny woke up December fifteenth, sliding out of bed and noting the absence of his girlfriend. He made his way into the kitchen to make coffee. The usual sight that had welcomed him every morning since the beginning of the group's trip had changed. The line of Advent Calendars that had adorned the counter had been emptied and stacked at the end of the surface.

He walked into the living room, seeing Y/n asleep on the couch, and Sam curled up on one of the chairs.

“Alright— who ate all the chocolates from the advent calendars?” He asked, raising his voice loud enough to wake up both Y/n and Sam.

The two lulled their heads towards Danny, lazily pointing at each other. Danny rolled his eyes, walking back into the kitchen.

Y/n cracked open her eyes, watching him as he walked away.

“Babe— Danny, wait.” She said, rolling off of the couch and putting out her hands to stop her from face planting into the carpet.

She lifted herself from the floor, stalking into the kitchen to see Danny taking apart the boxes and recycling the pieces.

“Danny?” She said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Sam and I may or may not have gotten— very baked last night— and those were the only chocolates we could find without making too much noise.” She explained.

“Come on babe, put some pep in your step. It’s the holiday season, let yourself feel holly jolly.” She said, bouncing around in an attempt to cheer him up.

“I am not feeling very holly jolly right now.” He replied, throwing away the last box and walking over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“How about this baby— we take a day trip to get new advent calendars for everybody, and I will buy you whichever one you want.” She said, walking up to him and grabbing his face in her hands.

He thought about it for a moment, a pensive look on his face as he lifted his mug to his face.

“I guess.” He said, taking a sip and giving her a smile as he lowered the mug.

“Alright, let’s enjoy our coffee, then we can head out okay?” She said, pouring herself a cup and leaning against the counter next to Danny.

He nodded his head in agreement, and the two stood in a comfortable silence as they drank their coffee, listening to the quiet sounds of everybody waking up in the morning.

“Josh is not going to be happy when he comes out and sees that his advent calendar isn't there.” Danny commented, taking the empty coffee cup from Y/n’s hands and placing it in the sink with his own.

“We should probably leave before he comes out.” She said, and Danny quickly agreed.

The two moved as quickly as they could to get dressed and ready to leave. Once they were ready, they walked towards the front door.

“Where are you two off to?” Sam asked, walking out of the kitchen clutching a cup of coffee.

“Going on a day trip to get more snacks, we’ll be back in a bit.” Y/n explained as she pulled on her shoes.

The sound of Josh’s bedroom door opening made Danny and Y/n look at each other frantically, reaching for the doorknob as Josh made his way down the hallway.

“Day fifteen everybody! Time for chocolate!” He yelled as he walked into the kitchen.

As Danny and Y/n walked down the driveway towards their car, they heard a loud gasp.

“Where the hell is my chocolate?!”

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for the Christmas fics lmk!

Taglist - @eatmejoshkiszka @screechesincoherently @amouratomique @fictional-duchess @theweightofstardust @obetrolncocktails @basically-hayley @amarideberry @weightofdreams-gvf @safari-shlong @j3rboa @castlebythesea @dearie-me @godlygreta @bluebonnet-sonnets @civilgroupie-gvf @aureummel @joshkiszkastea @prettyxvenomx @ageofsammy @sarakay-gvf @jakekiszkasguitarpick @welightthefire @gretavanhoney @cathedralcararmy @fleetsonfire @kaylal15

#A Very GVF Christmas #danny wagner #danny gvf #danny wagner imagine #greta van fleet #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #gvf imagine

40 notes · View notes

sunnygrey99 · 3 years

Text

Lost Family Pt. 1

Prompt: You are Barry’s sister that the military had taken due to an “unnatural condition” and you’ve recently broken away from the military.

(Hopefully, this will be a full-blown story that involves reader/Harry Wells. Roughly starting after zoom. There will also be some other OCS to fill out specific roles such as political figures, military, and other individuals. Reader’s name to government-affiliated people will be called Jane Jones)

~Trigger warnings: kidnapping, torture, violence, vague mentions of death and taking life.

These themes will be present in almost all chapters. Any other triggers for individual chapters will be listed separately. If I have left anything else please let me know and I’ll be sure to add it. Enjoy~

Sunlight poured into the small window in the cell you were in which woke you up suddenly. A series of angry beeps let you know someone was entering your cell block. You knew they were coming to either give you another mission or “re-train” you for your previous mission failure. The familiar boots stomping down the long hallway coming to your cell told you that it was the big boss, which could only mean bad things to come. Trying your best to stay calm and quiet you sat with perfect posture like the good robot they wanted. This time you had a plan to get out though. There was only a couple-second window that would free you and you had to pick exactly the right time. The large glass door slid open with a hiss as the recycled air was forced through. You didn’t dare make a move other than the flick of your eye to see how many exactly were there. Luckily it was just the big boss and a single other guard. Unluckily it was one that you liked. You couldn’t help but notice the strange look on her face as they stopped right past the door.

“Stand.” the general harshly ordered. You followed stiffly with what he said. As he started to approach with the dampener you knew it was now or never. You swiftly grabbed his wrist, twisting him around to hit the wall. He tried to turn back to fight you but you were too quick for him and knocked him out. Then you heard the click of a gun’s safety, turning slightly with your hands up and you smiled at her.

“Issa, You know I don’t want to hurt you.” slowly taking a step closer she held her gun a bit more firm.

“And you know I can’t let you just go Jane.” Issa frowns slightly. You know she would love to let you go but the government would have her executed. She nodded so small that the camera in your cell wouldn’t even be able to pick it up. She knew what you had to do and would let it happen. You smiled at her and whispered in her ear as you whipped around her putting her in a headlock after disarming her. “I’m sorry, but I hope you get out too.”

After she slumped over and passed out you laid her on the bed before you grabbed her and the general’s key cards. It was a rush against time now and you had to move. As you rushed out the glass door and down the hall you felt the energy slowly come back to you. It was almost disorienting. Door after door you passed through no problem, but as soon as you passed the last door a group of soldiers faced you with their weapons aimed. Most of them looked scared although a few were far too confident. Obviously, they didn’t know who they were holding weapons against.

In a matter of milliseconds, you felt your body heat up and push a wave of heat towards the group. Some dropped their guns and started to run. Then your eyes glazed over with smokey white and black, light shining through every vein in your arms and chest as you reared back and focused a blow straight at the ground in front of the group. It sent shock waves through the ground throwing them back. Running as fast as you could, you smiled over your shoulder. This was your out and you knew exactly where you were going next. You pushed off the ground leaving a small crater behind as you flew off towards the stunning central city.

As you approached the city you saw the police department. Landing outside the block in a dark alley you walked the rest of the way to the station. On the way up you froze and then waved a hand changing the clothes you were wearing into something more normal. A dark green and black uniform became a black turtleneck and slacks with an oversized green coat. Hopefully presentable enough and not to raise suspicion to the officers there. The doors of the elevator opened and you approached the desk pretending to be a reporter, asking the officer where the CSI agent Barry might be.

“Yeah, he’s probably still here. His office is upstairs at the last door on the left.” the officer pointed and then went right back to his work. You turned to head there. Once you entered the office you looked around hoping to see anyone but your heart fell as you didn’t see anyone. At the very least you took the opportunity to look around the office and see what your brother does for a living. It hadn’t been but a few minutes before you heard a whooshing sound and felt a small breeze. You looked around and saw a form in the corner. Something clatters and a man stumbles trying to clean it up.

“Hey I didn’t see you there, can I help you with something?”He sounded flustered and surprised. You smiled at him and stepped closer.

“Are you Barry Allen?” you said smiling at him with so much hope in your heart. He nodded at you as he stood. “I’m (Y/N) Allen. I’m your sister.”

His smile faded as confusion took over. “I’m sorry you must be mistaken… I’m an only child.”

You nodded and pulled an old crumpled paper from your coat pocket. Handing it over unfolded to show Barry. “This is my birth certificate. I’m six years older than you, and we both have the same parents. I trust the person that gave me this information wouldn’t lie or make it up. I don’t know everything that happened but I have enough information to hopefully have you believe me.” He stares at the paper and stares for a long moment.

“I think I need to make a call to my dad.” He looked up, “Not like my birth dad, just my adoptive dad. Maybe he knows something. I’ll be very angry if he does and he’s been hiding it, but I’d love to know if this is the truth.”

Part 2

88 notes · View notes

fatefulfaerie · 3 years

Text

Mortality

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #7/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 3,684

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild 2 (pre)

Additional Prompts Followed: Forsaken Fates, Lost Eternities

Inspired by this art by @morniae

A big thank you to @braidy-maidy and @linktheacehero for beta-ing!!

He wasn’t expecting a fairytale reunion as his horse trotted slowly, arriving at the Forgotten Temple with next to no fanfare. All sorts of geniuses from every race of Hyrule had gathered to study this place, to pull it from its lost state and unearth its secrets, to discover the reason behind its eternity and maybe even why its fate was to be forsaken and forgotten to all of history.

Link left his horse with the many others that were being cared for on the left side of the canyon and began to navigate the ruckus on foot. It seemed crowds of scientists and historians alike were out here securing their tents, making food, and languishing in a well-deserved rest. Link felt as if he stuck out like a sore thumb with his small brain, but no one paid him any mind, not even her.

In fact, she was nowhere to be found.

Perhaps he was expecting some fairytale reunion as he peered his head around every Sheikah, Goron, Rito, Zora, and Hylian in sight. He didn’t care that there was no fanfare, in fact, that may have made it even harder to spot her if it were a big deal that the hero of Hyrule had arrived. Thank Hylia these ruins were more interesting, that no crowd had congealed into a true tidal wave of obstacles. He missed her dearly, after all, no matter how short a time two weeks was in comparison to a hundred years.

He made his way all the way to the shrine in the back when he finally saw her. Zelda smiled when she spotted him and bounded over, clutching the Sheikah Slate.

“Thank the goddesses you’re here,” she said, pecking his cheek. “They haven’t made anything good for dinner in days.”

She walked right past him. Link’s mouth popped open as she practically flew to another inscription of the ruins being studied. Purah, following close behind Zelda, approached Link as he looked over.

“Two weeks she hasn’t seen me and I get a colder welcome than ten thousand year old ruins.”

Purah clicked her tongue and began to cross past Link.

“Sounds like you better get cooking.”

And so he didn’t see his blur of a girlfriend until dinner, when he was serving a ladle-full of meat stew to everyone who passed by with a bowl, salty chunks of meat and sweet carrots swimming in a broth that radiated a scrumptious scent for at least a mile.

The last person he served came up wearing a forehead beaded with sweat and sticky blonde hair from a hard-days work. As she approached, she lightly hit the empty wooden bowl against her hand, and pursed her lips taut with eyes almost apologetic. Her steps shuffled in the sand.

“Look who it is,” Link said before she could muster an apology. He looked more amused than upset, anyway. Zelda sat on her heels in front of the cooking pot and handed him her bowl.

“Sorry,” she said, “it was just a busy day. We think we’re close to finding--”

Link and Zelda’s eyes met. They both knew what she was going to say. The entrance to the caves. The hidden reason why this expedition was such an extensive operation. Only Purah and Impa knew the true reason, after all. Everyone else was just here for research. Bless their hearts.

They knew they needed to find it, but not finding it meant more of an excuse to not go down there.

Yet.

To not let go of the illusion of peace.

Yet.

To not face their mortality once again.

Not yet.

Link looked down to pour soup in her bowl. With everyone else fed--and Zelda more than likely went to the back of the line on purpose so that she would be the last one to eat--Link poured himself a bowl as well. They soon sat down in front of Zelda’s tent.

“When are Impa and Paya arriving?” Link asked.

“Tonight,” Zelda replied, but she swallowed hard, regretting taking another spoonful with a “mm”.

“Oh my gosh I almost forgot!” she said enthusiastically. “You should have seen it, Link. The reunion between Purah and Robbie? They just marched up to each other, both short, old, and wrinkled, said each other’s names and walked off. It’s hard to believe they used to be lovers.”

Link choked on his stew.

“What?”

“Did I not...mention that?”

Link was still coughing, eyes tearing up.

“No?” He croaked, before coughing a couple more times. “You’d think I would remember something like that.”

“Believe me I wish I didn’t,” she said, before changing the subject. “Oh yeah, how did the meeting go?”

“Horrible,” Link said between spoonfuls.

“What do you mean?” Zelda inquired, slightly disappointed. She had hoped diplomacy would work.

“If I had known that Kohga had an eight year-old hiding somewhere in that hideout, I never would have attacked him,” Link started. “Apparently we needed him to keep his son in check. The kid is so hell-bent on revenge that he didn’t even read the treaty. He’s determined to hunt us down until the end of our days. Even his guards think he’s taking it a bit far. I could see it in their faces when Sooga was going on and on about his forces being strong and ready to fight. Those poor men and women are tired.”

“I thought the Yiga wore masks?”

Link shook his head.

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Sooga wants them to be proud of themselves, whatever that means. Goddesses, that whole meeting was like getting a child to eat their vegetables. I’m pretty sure Riju was about to slap him at the end, the little runt recycling the dogmas of the Yiga that are ten thousand years old now. Even when I ask him why he said such things about Hylians, he doesn’t give a straight answer. He knows less about history than I do and I had amnesia. He’s just been conditioned, raised to hate.”

“That’s unfortunate, but not hopeless,” Zelda said. “I’m sure Riju and the rest of the Gerudo will be able to work it out if the entirety of the clan no longer backs him. Is there any danger until then?”

Link shook his head and swallowed his current spoonful.

“Not yet,” he said once he could. “The only reason they haven’t attacked here is because he wants to find the entrance of the caves as much as we do. He didn’t say it outright, but he’s waiting for us to do it for him.”

“That’s not frightening at all,” she said sarcastically. “We’ll have to increase security when we do eventually go down there, make sure he doesn’t follow us.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Zelda,” Link said. “He’s only eight years old, and he’s pretty short and lean.”

Zelda smiled as she sipped her soup.

“I remember a little eight year old like that who could best adult knights,” she said with a smirk. “People say he saved Hyrule.”

“Really?”

“Never grew an inch after eight years old though.”

Link scoffed.

“I can and will pour the rest of this stew over your head,” he said as he held it up. Zelda laughed, but put her arms out in defense.

“Don’t you dare!” She exclaimed. She stood up and began to back away “I’m a princess!”

“Not anymore,” Link said, forgetting about the soup and tackling her. They wrestled playfully, rolling down the rocky slope and laughing joyfully until they stopped suddenly in a gulch, Zelda hovering over Link and sharing with him panting breaths.

“I win,” she said.

“By chance,” Link argued. He brought a hand up and lightly coaxed her head to lower. It, however, did not take much effort, as Zelda more than willingly met his lips to his, exploring his mouth and enjoying the sensation. She felt her cheeks warm. Kissing was all they had ever done, so being flush to him was frankly exhilarating, but she didn’t mind it in the slightest.

They both heard the reigns of horses, the clatter of a covered wagon, the jingle of Kakariko-style bells, but it blended too much into the rest of the ruckus for them to think anything of it.

“Paya, you brought us to the wrong place,” Impa said. “I wanted to go to the research expedition, not a mating ritual exhibition.”

Zelda pushed herself off Link and attempted to fix her hair, composing herself as best she could. Link stood up, but he let his messy hair be.

“H-hey Impa,” Zelda said, walking towards her oldest friend. Despite her feeble frame and short stature, Impa hopped off the wagon like a child. “How was the trip?”

“Long,” Impa said, bruskly.

“She’s a bit cranky,” Paya explained as she stepped off and started to untie the two brown horses from the wagon. “Where do these go?”

“Over there,” Link said, pointing over to the mini-stable on the left of the canyon. “And your tent is the one next to ours. If you’re hungry, there’s probably some stew left.”

“Please,” Impa said, allowing the young man to lead the way to the appropriate cooking pot. She even let him help her walk when the terrain wasn’t the smoothest.

They had left Zelda alone, but it gave her the opportunity to help Paya with unloading the wagon, and to catch up with one of her newer friends before they all turned in for the night.

Zelda was surprised to find Paya as reserved as she was when they first met, but after a bit of grilling she admitted to Zelda that Impa had told her of their true purpose here, that sealing Calamity Ganon may not have been an ending they could trust. Her red eyes were sad and apologetic for learning the secret but Zelda wouldn’t have it, insisting to Paya that it was okay, that it won’t be a secret for long, and that Hyrule was going to be okay.

That last one was a lie Zelda thought about well into the night.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Zelda.”

He opened his eyes to the dark tent, the edge where tan cloth met a small patch of dry grass.

Link couldn’t believe a whisper was what woke him up. Still half awake and already turned away from the center flap of the tent, he kept his eyes closed, hoping he could doze off again.

“Zelda, wake up.”

Someone gently shook Zelda’s foot, and Link guessed the voice belonged to Paya.

Link felt Zelda’s arms slide away from holding him and he tried to slow his breaths. They both would feel so guilty for waking him.

“What is it?” Zelda asked, the rustling that followed suggesting that she got out of the tent. “Should I wake up Link?”

Paya must have shaken her head, or said something to suggest that it wouldn’t be necessary, because that was the last Link heard of the conversation.

He inwardly wrestled with the decision to get up anyway since he was, in fact, awake, but his comfort insisted otherwise and he drifted off before he made up his mind.

“Link.”

The sunlight was bright, even through the dulled filter of the canvas tent.

He felt Zelda’s hand on his shoulder, and he rolled over at the gentle prompt. Link found her green eyes.

“We found it,” she said. “An entrance to the caves.”

Link closed one eye and scrunched up his face. Zelda knew he did that when he was both tired and confused but with his messy bedhead she saw it as adorable.

Link moved his arm to the other, pinching his own skin somewhere around the wrist and, once he felt pain, his entire body sighed exasperated. He faced the top of the tent and closed his eyes far too tight to go back to sleep.

He opened the blue gems one at a time and took a deep breath.

“I assume we are leaving as soon as possible?”

Zelda nodded.

Link didn’t say another word when he got up and started getting ready, almost ignoring Zelda and how she sat on her heels in her own silent and undetectable bout of sadness. He even left her there in the tent but Zelda let him have his space, let him breathe his last breaths in this wild, fresh air, let him hear the birds and see the sun before she dragged him down to hell, back down to war, back down to fear and panic and worry and trauma and everything he had worked so hard to heal from.

It wasn’t until they were several steps into the caves that his stoicism really started to wear at her. One statement and all of him was left in the tent. He just…walked, looking forward, not saying a word. Zelda hated it as much as she did a hundred years ago. She tried to remember that he wasn’t really mad at her back then, so he couldn’t be mad at her now…

Right?

She looked over at his profile again.

Right?

“Link?”

The hooves of the large, blue ox behind them clapped along.

“I, uh…” she began when he gave no response. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Link said quickly and briskly.

Zelda’s lips parted. Her pacing slowed to a halt. If she hadn’t stopped pulling the ox along, it would have rammed into her.

Link looked over his shoulder when he realized he was the only one moving, turning around completely to see Zelda with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Zelda asked.

He decided to look elsewhere as he hugged his arms close, the stone ground, the cavernous chasm above them, the rocky wall, anywhere but Zelda.

“I’m not mad at you, I...” he said quietly, “I’m just feeling a little off, okay?” He said quietly. “I had trouble breathing when I left the tent this morning.”

Zelda’s expression softened. She closed the distance between them and attempted to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder.

“You could have told me that,” Zelda said. “I’m nervous too. We have a right to be. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Yet Link still refused to look up.

“I almost collapsed, I felt so weak,” Link said. “The dread, the fear of facing it all again, the thought of losing you…it gathered, I felt it here.”

He placed a hand on his chest and he started to pant. His fingers began to clutch at the brown leather, the blue cloth and he stumbled to his knees.

“Link!” Zelda exclaimed as she grabbed him under his forearms, kneeling down with him. His breaths were shaky and fast, and he stared down at the ground.

“Link,” she repeated. “Link.”

The next sound from Link was the combination of a spurt of fresh paint and a croaking frog, warm vomit spilling from his mouth in smelly chunks of beef and carrots. It was instinct that Zelda stood up with a yelp and backed away with arms floating up, the gathering of vomit ending up mere inches from her toes. If she had stayed where she was, her pants would have been covered in Link’s partly-digested dinner.

“Oh gosh, Link,” she said once she got over the shock, rushing to his side and drawing circles on his back. He didn’t react though, only staring at the mess on the floor with his weight on his hands.

Zelda’s eyes stung with tears as she ran her fingers through his hair, some drops even lopping onto Link’s mess. She held him as best she could while still giving him the distance he needed, but that could never stop her from the occasional kiss on the side of his head and whispering sweet assurances of love into his right ear.

After a couple fruitless lurches of his back and neck, Link hurled a second time. As ironic as it was for her to hope for anything from the goddess anymore, Zelda prayed it was the last one.

“Zelda,” he said between heavy breaths. It was apparent his lungs were exhausted. He coughed a couple times.

Link looked into Zelda’s eyes, finally, although they veered towards horror, the green marbles conveying desperation for how to relieve this poor young man.

“I know,” she said, trying to smile. She wiped away Link’s tears. “I know.”

Wary of the mess near them, she brought him into a proper embrace, rocking him back and forth and holding him in such a way that she was sure he knew he was held. She wasn’t sure how secure he could feel on the cusp of embarking into danger, but she would try her best.

“I’m scared, too,” she said. “Down here is an untouched wild that was left alone for a reason we know not of. Nothing is scarier than the unknown, especially for us who have been hurt again and again by the unknown. Hope has betrayed us too much for us to readily depend on it, but we have to try.”

Link looked up, tilting his head to see her.

“How?”

Zelda lips parted. She stammered speechlessly. He seemed so hurt by her hopefulness.

“Together,” she said, attempting to fake her confidence. There was still a small question mark at the end of her statement that she didn’t mean to expose.

Link stood up and faced away from her. He crossed his arms.

“Do you know how long a version of Ganon has been terrorizing Hyrule?” Link asked. “How long he has been reincarnating?”

Zelda, who was now sitting on her heels, shook her head.

“No,” she said honestly.

“Do you know what makes us any different from the people who tried to stop him in the past?”

“No,” Zelda repeated, again, honestly.

Link nodded.

“I don’t either,” he said. “And that scares me.”

Zelda stood up.

“Link, we—”

“I can’t lose you!” Link exclaimed, turning around quickly. “I ignored it, okay?! All this time when you talked about there being caves, there being another journey, I ignored it! I put it off! I casted it aside! I focused on us.” His voice broke. “I thought that was all there would ever be…”

He placed his hands on his hips and collected himself.

“This morning it all collapsed,” he said. “Right before my eyes. Everything I could have ever hoped for.”

Zelda scoffed.

“Do you think I was happy to have found these caves?” Zelda asked rhetorically. “To have been woken up in the middle of night and told that this place I saw in my nightmares was indeed real, that I was to investigate a threat that hasn’t been faced in ten thousand years of Hyrule birthing warriors more capable than you? I had to keep a straight face, but Link, I wanted to scream so loud that even Lurelin could hear me!”

Zelda released her residual anger at the world in heavy pants of her breaths. Once she sighed herself calm, she snagged a small rag from the heaps of resources strapped to the patient and by now likely deaf ox.

Zelda stepped forward and washed Link’s stunned face clean of vomit.

“Then I thought of our future,” Zelda continued. “I was angry because coming down here means jeopardizing that. I scorned myself for how selfish that was. I told myself that this wasn’t about me and you, that this is about a peaceful Hyrule. That helped but...do you want to know what really helped?”

“What?” Link asked.

“The people of Hyrule want to live in peace, and so do we. They want to raise families without worrying about another Calamity.” Zelda smiled. “I think we do too, when the time comes.” She perished the thought. That was a long while down the road. “But this isn’t just about a peaceful Hyrule, it’s about our peaceful Hyrule. I’m no longer a princess, distanced from others by a pedestal, and you are no longer a knight, distanced from others by a sword. We actually feel like a part of Hyrule this time. Of course we loved the Champions, my father, but we aren’t acting as Hyrule’s weapons anymore. We don’t feel like cards to be discarded or pawns to be knocked off in a game of chess. All of this is voluntary. We can’t blame a kingdom or a calamity this time. The possibility of losing each other is already giving us stomach-churning guilt because no one told us to go down here. We came down here because we want to preserve peace for all of us, preserve peace beyond even our lifetimes.”

Zelda placed a hand on Link’s cheek.

“And we will,” she said. “We have to believe we will. If we don’t think we’ll get out of here, then there is no chance we will. This is our first on-our-own decision and it’s a damn risky one. We can always turn back if--”

“No,” Link interrupted.

Link’s hand went to hers and his thumb stroked her soft fingers.

“No,” he repeated, however shakily. “We are going through with this. I just need to process it, that’s all. I didn’t think we would actually be doing this. I think we both held on to the fantasy of peace. I definitely held on to it too much.”

He finally let her touch soothe him.

“I’m here,” Zelda assured him softly. “I’m right here.”

She took his hand and placed it on her heart, the rhythm of which pulsated through his own veins.

“I’m not supposed to be alive right now,” Zelda said. “I should have died an eighty year old queen about thirty years ago but here we both are, young and spry. These caves are filled with dangers we don’t know, but with my heart in your hands and your heart in mine I know we can dare to do the impossible again.”

Link met his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He tried to breathe the way she was, to feel her calm and to adapt it into his own body.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

#zelink #zelink week 2021 #zelinkweek2021 #zelda #link #forgotten temple #botw #breath of the wild #botw 2 #breath of the wild 2 #botw sequel #impa #paya #purah #robbie

44 notes · View notes

ronsbadidea · 3 years

Note

#6 and #16 from the kisses prompt list ! :) thank you love, i hope you’re doing well. Hella cool fun fact, cows have best friends.. and it helps them so much that their heart rates lower significantly and and their stress level decreases :0 anyways, im proud that you’ve come this far, and if times are rough, bernie sanders in plastic-recycled mittens will always send warm positive energy your way :)

hello! sorry i didn’t respond back to your message, i ended up choosing blaise for this so i hope you don’t mind! tysm for the kind words it truly means a lot! also just wanna say i love blaise and would kill for this

also cows having besties make me happy and bernie sending me positive energy i need it

pairing: blaise zabini x gn!reader

warnings: soft fluff, like heart melting tears forming fluff

from the way the sun peaks through the open window, to the birds chirping along to a tune, it casts an elegance to the calm serenity in the room. dust particles are seen from the sunlight casting a glow over the bed. the sheets are ruffled and loosely hung around the couples waist.

blaise is awoken to the tranquility that is his shared bedroom. looking to his left, his eyes are immediately drawn to the shiny rock sitting on your left hand, sun hitting directly on it leaving a rainbow to appear on the wall adjacent from you. he slowly turns to face you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

a cool breeze fly’s into the room and causes goosebumps to appear on both parties skin. you stir slightly from the attention and your face scrunches up to the intrusion. chuckling softly, blaise leans over to you and places gentle kisses along your face.

starting with your nose, he works his way to your cheeks pecking each one softly. moving to your forehead he places dozens of tiny kisses noticing how your face reacts to the feel. he catches your mumbles and becomes aware that you’re slowly waking from the slumber.

sliding his hand under your chin he kisses your lips softly once and pulls away just as your eyes open up. “good morning sleepy head” with your eyes still half lidded you mumble, “g’mornin my love”

reaching up you place a kiss on his lips and sink back down into his chest, his warmth overtaking your surroundings. “love it’s time to wake up” still kissing your soft lips he moves his hand to your naked back and glides his fingertips over it.

more goosebumps appear on your skin and the heat rushes to your cheeks, despite still being half asleep. “i don’t wanna. i just wanna lay with you” nuzzling your head into his neck his heart triples in size and stutters at the sight of you.

feeling his walls start to tumble he caves in and relaxes further into the bed. giving you one last look he smiles lovingly at you and pecks your forehead gently. closing his eyes he agrees, “okay love let’s go back to sleep”

spending the rest of the day in bed he can live with, especially if it means you’ll be in his arms throughout it.

tags: @anchoeritic @amourtentiaa @carmiml0v3 @marauders-simp @asthmax @expectoscamander @hey-there-angels @alyssamalfoy @ethernal-onism @dreyrugrjordy @kc-writes-things

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine

259 notes · View notes

rafael-silva · 4 years

Note

38. Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt - bc this is def something joe and nicky do

thank you! and they absolutely do!

joenicky + #38. letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt | from this prompt list

FLUFF, domestic fluff, domesticity, softness, comfort, seriously there’s so much fluff

It’s been a rough winter. Turning on his side and looking out of their balcony window, Joe’s eyes scan an endless horizon covered in snow, sun hooded by clouds in the sky. He catches glimpses of his reflection staring back at him, his bedridden hair and thick beard.

Nicky had left twenty minutes ago to get some groceries for dinner. He got dressed while watching Joe stretch out in bed, having just woken up from a nap, the heated room allowing him to be in just a soft cotton t-shirt and boxers. He smiled sleepily at Nicky, stretching out some more and stifling a yawn. Joe��s smile widened when he noticed that Nicky was holding a scarf that Joe had gifted him recently. A soft, green cashmere scarf he found while buying some supplies for their last mission. He says it brings out the color in Nicky’s eyes. Eyes Joe would happily stare into for the rest of his life.

Nicky looked up from where he was tying his shoe laces and the way Joe’s eyes crinkle as he smiled at him? Nicky feels his own smile spread in reciprocation. And that silver sparkle dancing around his husband’s eyes? Yeah, Nicky could easily sing his own poetry about how even after centuries together, it makes his heart leap around his chest. At times, Nicky stops, looks at Joe in wonder, his thought: this man is mine.

Joe offered to go with Nicky to the store two blocks down the road, but Nicky had shaken his head, grabbing a coat, which Joe suspects belongs to him (Nicky always did prefer wearing Joe’s clothes), his gloves and walks around to the empty side of their bed. Joe feels the soft mattress dip with Nicky’s weight, his body swaying a little, still heavy with sleep. His love balances himself on one knee and closes the gap between them with a tender kiss.

“Stay. Keep the bed warm for me,” Nicky had mumbled against Joe’s lips. “I won’t be long.”

Joe smiled against Nicky’s mouth and gave him another kiss. A silent promise.

Nicky turns on his heels and makes his way towards the door, only turning to give Joe one last smile over his shoulder and leaves.

And now, watching the scenery outside, a smile tugs on Joe’s face at the memory. He feels sleep pull at him from all edges and decides to go with it. With a palm laid on Nicky’s pillow that smells like him, he drifts off, engulfed in the warm and comforting scent that belongs to the owner of his heart.

Nicky returns to find Joe asleep, and in that moment, wishes he were the artist so he could sketch this perfect scene. Instead, he pauses in his tracks, a recyclable bag in each hand filled with dinner necessities, and his eyes capture the view like a camera shutter. He tucks it into his mind, along with decades and decades worth of memories with this beautiful man.

He moves around the studio as quietly as possible, storing everything where it belongs, in cupboards and in the fridge. With a peek at the clock hanging on the red brick wall, he decides they still have some time before they start on dinner. He moves further down the kitchen counter to where the coffee pot sits empty and cold, he pulls out Joe’s favorite coffee brand, his own favorite tea and gets to work, knowing Joe will want some caffeine intake once he’s awake and Nicky could use a good, warm cup of tea himself.

Nicky turns around just as he hears his name called from behind. Although it’s more of a whisper rather than a call.

“Nicolo.”

Nicky always found Joe’s deep, sleep-laced voice attractive.

He turns to find Joe squinting at him and quite honestly, looking absolutely adorable.

“Ciao, amore mio,” Nicky replies. Hello, my love. “I see you have, indeed, kept the bed warm for me,” he smirks.

“Warmer with you here,” Joe half says, half mumbles, clearly still working on fully waking up. He reaches out his arm towards Nicky, barely harnessing enough energy as it hangs in the air for a few seconds before falling down next to his body, a gesture that spells out come here, I’ve missed you. “Nico.”

Nicky chuckles. It was always intriguing watching the process of Joe waking up. “Sono qui.” I’m here. He kicks off his shoes and does as he promised, sliding into bed and immediately gravitates towards his husband.

Joe wastes no time in tucking his face into the crook of Nicky’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent he knows by heart and soul, the scent that is all Nicolo and lets out a content sigh. In return, Nicky wraps a hand around Joe’s shoulder and draws him in close.

“Hi habibi,” Joe whispers, his eyes closed. My love.

Nicky replies with a kiss planted on the top of Joe’s head. He closes his eyes, savoring this moment, as he held Joe, both of them breathing in sync. Hearts beating as one.

Nicky begins running his hand up and down Joe’s arm, hand colliding with bare skin, a movement he knows relaxes his partner.

“Your hand is cold,” Joe mutters.

“Hm?”

Joe opens one eye and looks up at Nicky. “Your hand is cold,” he repeats. “Were you wearing your gloves, amore mio?”

“Si,” Nicky nods. “It’s really cold outside. I don’t think they helped much.”

“Hmm,” Joe studies Nicky’s face for a moment. “Come here.”

A weird shuffling happens as Joe rearranges them on the bed, limbs moving all over the place until he’s satisfied. With his own hand, Joe takes Nicky’s cold ones and slips them underneath his own shirt, the sudden press of Nicky’s icy fingers to his hot skin prompts a little escaped hiss from him.

Nicky moves to pull back—there are other ways to heat his hands, he doesn’t need to freeze his husband in the process—but Joe’s hold on his arms stops him.

“It’s okay, Nico, it’s already passed,” Joe reassures him. “And your hands are already getting warmer.”

Nicky does feel that, and with Joe’s words, relaxes as he feels the coldness seep out of his skin.

It’s always been like this, whether it’s summer or winter, Joe runs hot, while Nicky runs slightly cooler.

Nicky slowly starts tracing Joe’s skin with warming fingertips, in a way he knows tickles the other man. And true to that, Joe’s squirming in a matter of seconds and a couple of honest to God giggles escape him before transforming into deep, hearty laughs.

“Is this what I get for wanting you to be warm?” Joe teases around a chuckle.

“I love hearing your laugh, habib albi,” Nicky replies. My heart’s love.

“And I,” Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s lips, “love you.”

Nicky gazes into Joe’s brown irises, getting lost in the depth, beauty and sincerity looking back at him. It takes his breath away. “I love you, Yusuf.”

With another smile and a soft kiss, Joe pulls back. “I smell coffee.”

Nicky nods and moves his eyes over to the counter where the coffee is ready, the pot filled and steaming.

Joe follows Nicky’s movement. “Did I tell you how much I love you?” He happily sighs, leaning back against the pillow and taking Nicky with him.

Nicky snickers, easily going with Joe and rests his head on Joe’s chest. “You can always tell me again.”

Joe’s reply is cut off and turns into another laugh as Nicky once again tickles him. His hands are warm now, but he keeps them plastered to Joe’s skin.

“The coffee is getting cold,” Joe says once he manages to take in a deep breath after a few more deep laughs.

Nicky moves his head and presses a gentle kiss to Joe’s neck. “I worked way too hard to let that coffee pot go cold.”

Joe playfully rolls his eyes at his husband. “I would hate for your hard work to go to waste. Come on, amore. You could use a cup of tea, too.”

427 notes · View notes