#Car Service from Dulles Airport | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captain-hawks · 8 months ago

Note

Hello Dee!! I am sending you a care package full of soup and soft tissues and home made cookies in the hopes you get well soon!! 💙💙

And in the meantime, may I request Iwaizumi + red?

(thank you nonnie you're so sweet<3!!)

hajime iwaizumi x reader

c: fluff, angst, pining, childhood friends

“I think you should stay.”

Nearly lulled to sleep in the late hour by the dark, quiet highway you’ve been travelling on, you jump slightly from where you’re leaning against the cool surface of the window at the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice. The car rolls to a stop at the foot of the exit ramp, the traffic light overhead casting the interior of the car in a dull shade of red interspersed with the shadows of the raindrops sliding down the windshield.

When you turn, his eyes are trained on the empty road ahead, his brown hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly while you were dozing in the passenger seat. For a moment, you wonder if you were just hearing things, but as if he can feel you looking at him, he briefly turns to meet your gaze.

“Sorry,” he gruffly adds, inhaling once before turning away, the car rolling forward as the light turns green. “It’s none of my business.”

You booked a flight back home on a whim three days ago, a redeye with nothing but a backpack and weary eyes that had done far too much crying—that, and a phone full of missed texts and calls from your fiancé.

When you texted Iwaizumi that surprise, you were coming home for a surprise visit with absolutely no notice at all and landing at three o’clock in the morning, your childhood friend smelled your bullshit from a mile away.

And subsequently was waiting at the airport for you upon your arrival, despite the fact that he’d been working all day. Despite the fact that he had an early morning ahead. Despite the fact that you insisted you could find a rideshare service to your parents’ house.

“You’re not taking an Uber by yourself in the middle of the night, I’m picking you up. Don’t argue.”

He knew something was terribly wrong the moment you approached his car. But he didn’t pry—not yet. Rather, he immediately wrapped you in a warm, reassuring embrace that felt like home and trust and safety and other things that were far too complicated to think too hard about out there on the cold airport sidewalk in your hometown.

The edge of the diamond nestled on your finger pricks uncomfortably at your skin as you idly spin the ring with your thumb, the gem weakly reflecting off of the street lights—dim in comparison to the small, bright green digits on the dash that read 1:32.

He has no idea that you fell a little bit in love with him the day that he picked up your soccer ball when it rolled across the street into his yard when you were eight years old, a shy grin on his face as he traversed the expanse of blacktop that separated his house from yours to bring it back to you.

He has no idea how many times you nearly confessed to him in high school, hasn’t the slightest clue how wrong he was all the times he rolled his eyes as he assumed you were always at his house because you had a crush on Oikawa.

He doesn’t know how badly a stupid, immature, traitorous part of you wanted to hear those words when you told him you were moving across the country with your college boyfriend Daisuke.

Stay.

He doesn’t know that your heart fumbled when Daisuke got down on one knee, the way the first goddamn thing you thought of was him.

Hajime Iwaizumi has no idea how much of your heart belongs to him.

Even now.

After all this time.

“I don’t want to marry Daisuke,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Your body rocks forward as the car comes jolting to a sudden stop in the middle of a deserted street, your momentum halted by Iwaizumi’s arm that quickly shoots out to brace the impact. He stares over at you with wide eyes, and raindrops drum a soft, lazy rhythm atop the roof as his chest rises and falls.

“What?”

Glancing down at the ring on your finger and subsequently back up at the man sitting beside you again, you nod, as if you’re not currently parked in the middle of the street on your way back to the airport for a flight back to your fiancé that’s leaving very soon.

“I don’t want to marry him,” you repeat, staring down at your hands as you fold them in your lap. You tug down the sleeves of the sweatshirt you’re wearing—Iwaizumi’s old Seijoh volleyball hoodie—covering your palms up to the base of your thumb.

Iwaizumi’s quiet for a beat, and you hear the sound of his head falling back against the headrest.

“I don’t want you to marry him either,” he breathes out, quietly, his voice a little rough, a bit uncertain—like he doesn’t think he’s allowed to be saying it.

There’s so much you want to say right now, so many things you want to know.

A million words you can feel hovering on the tip of Iwaizumi’s tongue, words pressed into his grip on the steering wheel, caught somewhere between the gearshift and the glove compartment and your lone little backpack sagging sideways in the backseat.

Reaching out, you take Iwaizumi hand in yours, carefully lacing your fingers together.

He turns his head, face tilted sideways against the headrest. And though it’s dark inside his old sedan, your heart tumbles against your ribcage at the way he’s looking at you.

“This is still none of my business,” he murmurs, thumb tentatively running over the back of your hand.

“Then tell me you want it to be your business,” you whisper.

“I do.”

A car passes by in the opposite lane, the headlights washing over both of you, and you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly in your life.

Your cheeks feel wet as you ask him, “Will you pick me up from the airport when I get back? I might have a lot of stuff with me.”

Iwaizumi lifts your tangled hands, gently kissing the place where your thumbs overlap as he nods before bringing them both to the gearshift to put the car back in drive.

"Of course."

#hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #dee writes #rambling: h. iwaizumi

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katz-chow · 1 year ago

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baggage claim

a/n: having a bad night, this is my version of comfort…also self indulgent like most of my writing.

warnings: chubby!fem!reader, parental trauma, body issues, soft simon, hurt/comfort

there’s a lot of things that simon have not experienced quite yet, such things is the american airport system and how complicated tsa is. however, he landed, he walked, and there he’s faced with the rounding carousel of multicolored bags and suitcases.

he checked his ticket and looked up at the display of numbered areas. ‘11’, that’s the one.’ he watched the mouth of the conveyor belt, its plastic fringes flap against a purple suitcase…definitely not his. but still his eyes trained on that particular spot. then he let his mind wander.

long distance relationships were hard, long distance military relationships were harder. plane rides from deployment back to manchester then plane rides to another continent across the pond, lovely, just how he wanted to spend his first few days on leave: absolutely jet-lagged.

but then he thought of you, precious, precious you…oh his darling lovie and how your eyes shines whenever they make contact with his. you made it worth it. you made every crying baby on the plane, every overpriced water, and every awkward “thank you for your service” and then a bad american accented “thanks”; you made this airport journey worth it.

from here he spots his camo duffle. making way through the people, who’s eyes also trained on the infinite, snaking black, he hoisted it up and carried it with the strap on his shoulder.

his phone buzzed, whatsapp. you.

‘i’m in the lobby, by gate 2!!’

‘I’ll see you there.’

‘🥰😻🫶’

‘❤️’

and just like that, a few minutes later and a lot of sign-reading, he escaped the labyrinth of an american international airport. you stood there, hoodie and sweats on and your head bowed towards your phone. the dark sky outside and the oddly green-ish fluorescent made you look washed out, dull even. but simon knew you, he found you, he always did.

you look up, you wave, a smile adorned your face. you didn’t run up to him and tackle him in a hug that only a soldier could’ve done. and he didn’t have to lift you off the ground from the momentum of the hug, his bag dropping to the tile flooring.

instead you stood still, phone in pocket, as you waited for your boyfriend to get to you. simon didn’t understand, but he figured you might just be tired—which was fair, so was he. so he dropped his bag and wrapped his much larger arms around you, squeezing you tight and breathing you in, nose buried into the crook of your neck. “missed you…”

you smile, arms tight in between your chests as he holds you. he lets go eventually and you feel your body relax. “missed you too. let’s go home” you smiled politely.

simon’s eyebrows furrowed for a quick second but followed you anyway. thoughts ran through his head as he looks at the highway in front of him, one of his hands on your thigh as you drove the two of you home. he recalls the interaction you two had in the airport lobby. you’re distant, opting to curl up into a hug rather than hugging back and rocking side to side or jumping up and down. something’s different, something’s wrong.

his mind snaps back too as you took the exit, signaling the end is near of your driving adventure. the hum of the engine and the bumps of the road filled the air. no music. he furrowed his eyebrows again, medical mask now thrown away as he got into the safety of your car.

and now the safety of your bedroom, which is oddly quiet as he laid in bed, back slightly up as to prop himself up against the headboard. his eyes look at you drowsily as you sat on your vanity in front of the bed. you worked the multitude of skincare on your face and neck, patted it dry, and then climbed into bed, face the same emotion.

simon couldn’t take it anymore. “are you okay, lovie?”

you hummed in assurance, opting to set him down by wrapping your arms around his waist, urging him to lay down with you. he does and he holds you close, sleep flooded him, and just as quickly his succumbs.

he woke up to the sound of a hurt animal next to him, clearly in pain. he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and looked over at this hurt animal. it was you, curled up, and softly crying.

his heart stopped as he noticed your trembling figure, even with your face pulled away from him. "lovie? are you okay?'

you hold back a whimper as you tried your best to hold back the tremble in your voice. "i'm okay...go back to sleep simon."

he grumbled as he shifted over to you, wrapping his burly arms around, pulling you close. "tell me what's wrong."

the thoughts echoed in your head, resulting in a chill that ran through each muscle of your body, or lack thereof. your mother's words criticizing how you look flows through you mind, drowing out simon's. you grip onto the back of his hand and moved it away from your stomach, ashamed of how plush it was. you can just imagine it, the way it spills out of your shirt, the different rolls, how you sit, how you stand relaxed... you hated it.

simon poked his head up, surprised by your adjustment, but respecting it anyway. his big palm then instead rubs your arm comfortingly. "will you tell me?"

"i hate it."

"hate what?" he inquired, voice low and rumbling. his breath felt hot against your ear as he whispered, fighting sleep away while also wrapped up in your soft blankets.

you finally catch your breath and turn over to him, tucking yourself under his chin, feeling his stubble as you do. you sniffled, opting to breath in his scent and distract yourself from the past with the present. "i don't like how i look."

he sighed and clicked his tongue, arms tightening around you. "has this been bothering you all day?'

he felt you nod under him as he nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head. "what's wrong with how you look, did someone say something?'

he felt you respond again, a shake of your head which led to more rubbing against his neck. "i just don't like how...big i am."

"you don't like your stomach? how soft and jiggly it is? how warm it makes my hands fill, hmm?" he sniffed and sighed, closing his eyes on top of your head. the scent of your lingering shampoo quickly lulled him in. "i love how you look, and don't say any of that shirt your mum said. don't say that shit about how i deserve better than you or something."

you moved your head away from his warm chest to protest, to say that it's true but he growled and held you tighter, preventing you from moving away. "don't even try. it's true alright? i love you and how your stomach feels when i knead it."

you whined and sniffled, his love filling up in your chest-which was once heavy with doubt. it was silly, you decided, that you think he wouldn't like you after coming back from deployment just to stare at you and gag at how ugly you look. of course not.

"you're my baby, you're mine." he reassured you, a pat and rub on your head and then a kiss on your forehead. "and i think you're beautiful."

"okay," you mumbled as he hummed a distant song that you recognize but don't quite remember all the words to. he hummed and kissed you and rubbed your head, fingers raking through the strands.

"now can we sleep?" he complained as you feel a smile form on his lips.

you pulled away from him, pouting audibly, "it's so cold."

"woman, i am literally hold you under two blankets."

yeah you were going to be alright.

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henry-adderley · 8 months ago

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Dr. Henry Adderley is a general practitioner from England. He is a specialist in his profession, and therefore his services are in demand. One day, he is lucky enough to go to America for work, but when he is ready to agree to the initial conditions, they are suddenly changed. His new acquaintance offers him another opportunity to show himself and do a lot of useful things for people. What will Henry's kindness turn out to be?

This is a story about inevitability. Each person is initially destined for their own fate, which they cannot change.

Delay the inevitable? Yes.

Prevent it? No.

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

Rock of Destiny, Part 1

August 19, 20...year

I am Henry Adderley, an English doctor. In two days I am flying to North America, where I will stay for a couple of weeks. The trip there will be long, because the plane ride will take more than seven hours. I started keeping a diary so that I could later tell everything in detail to my dear Lucille, who would remain in England and would be waiting for me at home. I live with my sister because I haven’t found a wife. My profession leaves almost no time for myself and my family; not every woman will agree to endure this for the rest of her life. And even after thirty years, work takes first place. Well, I'm going off topic. Just two days and I will leave this house. After so many years I could have gotten used to it, but every time I worry like the first time that nothing bad happens in my absence. I'm sure Lucille will cope without me. She may no longer be a little sister who needs to be taken care of, but I still worry about her just as much.

It is now a dark and gloomy night outside. The eyes close. Of course, I need to get some sleep before a long journey, but insomnia has been tormenting me for several years now. I know that this won’t lead to anything good, but I can’t force myself again, in almost pitch darkness, mindlessly looking at a slightly shabby wooden wall, in a vain attempt to sleep, I can’t and absolutely don’t want to. My sister will be angry again if she suddenly wakes up and realizes that I’m not sleeping, but that’s okay, she’ll quarrel a little and calm down, as always.

The black round lamp on my desk flickered, plunging the room into darkness for a second. I tiredly rubbed the bridge of my nose, took off my glasses, carefully placed them on the table and turned off the yellow light, which was unpleasant for my tired eyes. The small space of my modestly furnished room was now illuminated only by rare glimpses of lights coming from cars passing by the house and lonely lanterns standing by the road, which sadly bowed their “heads” over the roadway, creating an even more dull atmosphere and completely spoiling my mood. With the saddest and most depressing thoughts, I still forced myself to get up from the table - while the old chair creaked unpleasantly, cutting through the cozy silence of the night - and lie down on the soft bed, lowering my head on the pillow. To my surprise, I almost immediately felt myself falling into sleep. Apparently, keeping a diary did me good, and specifically, it helped me sort out my thoughts and calm my agitated mind.

21 August.

All things are collected in a suitcase, which stands motionless by the door in the hallway and waits until I deign to leave my room, say goodbye to Lucille, take it and leave for the airport. Maybe I’m unnecessarily annoying myself with empty speculation, but I’m gnawed at from the inside by a very, very bad feeling. I'll come back to the diary later when I have some free time.

So, I took in more air into my lungs, trying to calm down, and still left the room. Lucille was already humbly waiting for me on the porch, smiling sweetly. As I approached, she threw my favorite brown coat, which I have been wearing for years, over my shoulders. I kissed her on the cheek, took a heavy black suitcase and got into the car. I’m lucky that I live close enough that I can get to the airport in about ten minutes by taxi.

I boarded the plane exactly at the appointed time, took my seat by the window, behind which it was beginning to get dark, took off my heavy coat, because it was warm in the cabin without it, and put my suitcase at my feet, and then took out a book from it. It was “A Study in Scarlet” by Arthur Conan Doyle, which I re-read over and over again, sincerely enjoying the exciting plot. Immersed in my favorite story, I did not immediately notice that a young couple sat down next to me. The girl looked about twenty-five years old, and her boyfriend was about thirty, it seemed to me. They were excitedly discussing something, if I understood correctly, they were talking about the upcoming wedding. Her voice was slightly squealing, unlike her partner’s, from which I concluded that the girl was much more worried about this than her future husband. I involuntarily smiled at her cheerful behavior, she looked very happy. The thought occurred to me that maybe everything wasn’t so bad and I was worrying in vain? But as soon as I relaxed and put the book down, the plane made a sharp maneuver to the side, and a glass bottle with a dark brown liquid, which a minute earlier the man had placed on the table, overturned right onto my coat, which lay peacefully on my lap. My fellow travelers instantly fell silent, the girl covered her mouth with her hands in fear. I sighed. Well, of course, everything couldn’t go without incident! I slowly got up from my seat and, without saying a word to them, went to the restroom. The stain was quite large, but I decided that I still had a lot of time and I could wash it off. By the way, I spent at least half an hour on this activity, and when I returned to my seat, I had to listen to numerous apologies from my fellow traveler. Of course, I am very grateful to her for the attention she received, but I was not in the mood at all, so I calmly assured her that nothing bad had happened and that I was not angry with them at all. I didn’t hear a word from the man.

I slept for the last hour of the flight, holding my almost dry raincoat to the glass.

August 22.

Now that I have the opportunity to continue, I will write down how this day went. New York greeted me with the noise of passing cars and the beauty of high-rise buildings. Every coffee shop exuded coziness. Lively streets, people scurrying everywhere. This is a city of hustle and bustle. It charmed with its unique atmosphere: it managed to delight with its grandeur, beauty and at the same time surprise with the comfort of stay, the kindness of the locals. Yes, the society here turned out to be very diverse, but the hospitality of all the people was a pleasant surprise. In a couple of hours I checked into the hotel and walked around the neighborhood. Well, as neighborhoods... I managed to make the acquaintance of a pretty nice girl while I was buying coffee. I decided that from now on I would only come here, because Emma turned out to be a good conversationalist and an excellent barista, and the cafe where she worked was located not far from the hotel where I checked in. My favorite latte macchiato was as amazing as always. I walked aimlessly along one of the alleys. Frankly, the row of trees and clean paths make a good impression. I think I should definitely go back there again. I even envy a little people who can afford to walk there with their dogs every day. Watching these cute and frisky animals run is a real pleasure! Having already gotten up from the bench to go further, I suddenly felt a light touch on my shoulder and turned around. Blue eyes, hair with a reddish tint. We froze opposite each other, not believing our eyes. I did not expect to meet him here...

— Henry! How I felt it was you! We haven't seen each other since graduation!

I remembered that Matt was always very emotional, so I was not surprised that he was all glowing with joy. I patted him on the back, greeting him, and smiled too. After all, we were friends. Our friendship was cooled by seven years of separation. He left London then, we rarely wrote to each other, and both were more concerned with their careers than maintaining communication. I didn’t know who he had become in the end, and this was a good opportunity to ask interesting questions.

— Nice to meet you. Do you live here or are you just stopping by for work?

Matt’s face changed a little, apparently he didn’t expect me to start with this, but he answered simply and clearly:

— I do. England with its frequent rains seemed too gray to me.

I generally agreed with him, but I still wasn’t going to move. London reminded me of my childhood, when my parents were still alive, and I played football with the neighborhood kids.

— You’re passing through, right? — Matt asks to keep the conversation going.

I nod:

— Work. By the way, would you like to walk me home? This is my first day here, I haven't had a chance to see the city yet.

He agrees, somewhat confused, and I give him the address.

The asphalt under my feet seems unusually clean for a big city. Not yet withered, recently mown bright green grass grows along the edges and goes somewhere deep into the park. A silence hangs between me and my friend, which, unfortunately, I can't call comfortable, but it doesn't bother me either. Matt seemed to have gotten into the atmosphere of this place and didn't mind my prolonged silence. Beginning to realize my unreasonable coldness towards him, I find myself momentarily seized by the desire to maintain communication with this person close to me, but this mood is quickly knocked down by the understanding that over so many years we have both changed. Me for sure. He — maybe.

— I have had a different phone number for several years now. Maybe you can write it down? — Matt suggests, and I don’t refuse. — I’ll wait for you to tell me later what kind of job you have.

He smiles so sincerely and radiantly, like in the old days, and I even feel sad that we haven’t talked for so long. How I’ve missed him.

The main building of the central hospital greets me with coolness from the fans and bright lighting. The girl at the reception shows me the way, after I explain who I need to see.

Mr. Hill is a man of average height with short brown hair and a forced smile. When talking, he actively gestures with his hands and often raises his voice to a screech. This man is responsible for my stay here. I can’t call him a boss, because I work for myself, but he is responsible for my accommodation and arrangements. So to speak, one word from him — and almost all roads are open to me. This is certainly useful, but I am not thrilled with his company. Our conversation quickly gets down to business. My presence here is necessary because there is a war going on, which has sent most of the citizens to the front, including professional doctors. Due to the shortage of people, I will have a busy schedule, but this is compensated by a decent salary and the fact that there is no need to pay for a hotel rented for me, it is not my concern. Mr. Hill is listing some of the clients who want to see me, mainly those with serious mechanical injuries requiring surgical intervention, when his speech is interrupted by a phone call. His face twists in disgust when he hears what his interlocutor is saying.

— Reschedule the meeting with her. Say anything, just to make her go away! - there are hysterical notes in his voice, - No, now is not the right time, I'm busy, very busy. The one who came to us... But... — his eyes widen, and his expression becomes like a pitiful one. — Got it.

He hangs up the call and slams the phone down on the glass table. Without explaining the scene that I involuntarily witnessed, Mr. Hill abruptly and unexpectedly changes the subject:

— Nelson will be glad to see you in this same office tomorrow at one o'clock. Something has changed, - he sighs. — He will tell you himself. That's all.

I politely say goodbye, surprised by this turn of events, and leave the office. Well, I think the above-mentioned person should give me the answers to my questions.

August 23.

It was unusual to wake up without an alarm clock on a weekday. The thin curtains easily let in the sunlight, while the noise from the cars penetrated even through the closed windows. This day promises a lot. The wristwatch showed almost exactly eleven o'clock. Two hours to spare... Not bad. Coffee first, I decided. A few minutes on the road and I was already making an order, then smilingly discussing the news with Emma.

— Can you imagine, — she exclaims enthusiastically, waving her hands. — And I got into the university I’ve been dreaming about since school!

— Congratulations! — I smile, sincerely happy for her, but find it a surprise for me that she’s still studying.

— What’s wrong?— Emma asks in bewilderment, and her outstretched hands with coffee and a packaged donut freeze in front of me.

Is my surprise that obvious?

— So you’re still studying…

— Well, yes, — she smiles as if there was a small, silly child in front of her, and I really feel like one.

— You look just like an adult, — I answer quietly, switching my attention to the cup and bag clutched in her fingers.

— I’ll take that as a compliment.

I nod, take my order and leave the cafe. The next destination is a bench in that very park. I was going to have breakfast in a quiet atmosphere.

Closer to the appointed time, I approach the right office and decide to just wait the remaining ten minutes, but almost immediately the door opens and a man of about fifty looks out of the doorway.

— I saw you through the window, — he smiles good-naturedly and gestures for me to come in. — Thank you for your visit.

— Nice to meet you too, mister…

I sit down on a soft armchair. He places a chair not far from me and sits down, crossing his legs.

— You can just call me Nelson. I can call you by your first name, right? - asks the new acquaintance and after my consent he immediately becomes more serious, — Circumstances have changed a little, Henry. You must know what is happening in the world. Things are not easy for all of us now, and troubles continue to pour out like from a cornucopia. I hope you will not be offended by this turn of events, but you are needed outside the city, in one of the nearby villages. The journey will take several hours, it is a remote area, but there is a sparse population. God-forsaken place... — he throws a somewhat sympathetic glance at me. — Of course, I have no right to force you, but you seem to me a kind person and not spoiled by fame.

— What prompted such thoughts? — I ask, catching on to the last sentence.

A smile spreads across his face again, but this time I can’t interpret it in any way.

— Anyone else would thank me and would undoubtedly confirm these words for their own benefit. Henry, — Nelson continues, returning to the point. — I need your help. I could find someone else, but something tells me that you will not refuse due to your sweet nature.

I was confused by his confidence, because it is impossible to fully understand a person when you are in the same room with him for ten minutes at most, but this time I did not try to refute anything. Perhaps he is bluffing to get what he wants, but his whole honest, open image, the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, his sincere smile and the barely noticeable gray hair at his temples inspire confidence. I guess I can compare this man to an old wolf, who may have been clever and scary before, but is now tired of his past, has taken up his usual routine, and instead of hunting rabbits, gives them tours of his domain.

— What do you say? — his voice suddenly sounds very close, and I discover with shame that I missed everything he told me.

Nelson, I am sure, noticed this, but did not show any negative emotions, still smiling at me as if I were his friend, and began again:

— I have not yet told you why exactly you are needed there. It is clear that you will simply be a doctor, but there is something else. I have already said that we are going through difficult times. Before you, one of the servants of the law worked in that village, but then he resigned. It seems for family reasons. I decided to take you myself because I need to meet him. His name will not mean anything to you, and you will meet later. He was in charge of the case there until he gave it all up. You know, — he prolonged the pause, apparently unintentionally. — I would like you to know what I am dragging you into. Just listen. I decided not to interrupt, concentrating on the words.

— This is serious. Something happened; I don’t know all the details, because I haven’t seen anything myself yet. People started disappearing. Lots of victims. The authorities blame it on wild animals, but this explanation never had a chance of being true. I have a personal request for you, Henry.

He moves his chair closer to me and instantly becomes serious.

— I ask you to find a man named Narell and find out from him what’s going on. Because something tells me he’ll send me away as soon as I approach.

— Is this someone you know?

— A former friend.

I nod understandingly.

— Thank you. You will be very helpful. Well, I think that's all for now. You don't have to worry about the payment, the amount will suit everyone, we can discuss it later over the phone. Please forgive me, but there is a meeting in five minutes and I can't miss it.

He pats me on the shoulder a couple of times, we say goodbye, and I leave, left, I must admit, under the impression.

The rest of the day passes as calmly as possible. In the evening, as agreed, I called Nelson. An amazing and unusually pleasant person. Despite the occasional sly notes, he speaks directly and clearly, immediately devoting himself to all the details and explaining where questions may arise. We agree on the same time as today. All that remains for me to do is repack my things in bags and mentally prepare myself for another trip.

August 24.

It's time to say goodbye to the comfortable hotel. Well, I agreed myself. Yesterday I bought everything I needed, walking around a couple of local stores. I don't know how long I'll stay like this. According to the contract, I have 14 days. Not that long, and it's not known how long I'll be stuck in that wilderness. Maybe I'll even like it. Nature, after all.

We met Nelson again at a less businesslike stop in that cafe.

— It's nice to know that someone shares my taste preferences, — he told me when we almost accidentally bumped into each other.

— I'm glad to see you too, — I admitted honestly, even encouraged by such a meeting.

— We're on first-name terms, Henry.

There was still half an hour left before the appointed time, but that didn't bother either of us.

— I decided to come here to have a cup of coffee before you arrived, but you're no slouch either, you surprised me, — Nelson stirred the sugar evenly, not taking his eyes off me.

— Is it surprising that I also like coffee?

— I dared to assume that you liked tea better. I even thought it was green. I'm usually not wrong.

My eyebrows rose, and a slight smile played on my lips.

— Everyone loses sometimes, — I had to hide my chuckle behind a paper cup, taking a sip.

— Got you. I see that the morning has started off well. I hope I didn't ruin your time with my company.

— I don't mind at all, — I responded cheerfully.

— If it's convenient for you, we can leave earlier. By the way, would you mind if we went in my car? I'd also like to see what's going on there.

— As you say. I have my things packed.

— Lots?

— Not very.

— That's good, — he said thoughtfully.

Nelson finished his coffee and threw away his empty cup; I followed his example. We went up to my room together, I took my suitcase, he offered to carry my bag. At the guard station, I handed him the keys and went outside, while Nelson put my bag in the car and waited for me, leaning against his Volkswagen Passat and twirling the keys between his fingers, on which hung a metal keychain in the shape of... a star? Well, that's funny.

As I had already understood, he was not averse to showing off sometimes, so he watched my reaction to his car with a smug smile. And his choice of clothes spoke only the best for him. Not devoid of boastfulness, but moderately proud, Nelson was confident and knew his own worth. My respect.

— Have a good trip! — he said with a smile when I also settled into the seats. — Do you have any preferences in music?

— No.

— I'll take you at your word. Then don't complain if you don't like something.

The songs on the radio were playing randomly. I looked out the window and didn't really remember where we were going. Maybe I should have. For a long time, the apartment buildings gave way to smaller houses; then they disappeared altogether - they were replaced by trees, bushes, and signs warning about moose. About halfway there, I fell asleep, leaning against the glass. Through my sleep, I heard Nelson turn down the music.

He woke me up when we arrived. Opening my eyes, I didn't immediately realize where I was. This place didn't look much like the promised village. Tall grass, not a soul around.

— Let's go further, we won't be able to drive through, — Nelson explained.

Not knowing anything about this area, I obediently followed him along a slightly overgrown, unpaved road. Soon we came to a clearing where several two-story houses were visible. Nelson walked confidently behind them along a barely noticeable path, so much so that I could barely keep up with him.

— Where are we going? — I asked, noticing that we were moving further and further away from the original place.

— Remember, I was talking about one person?

Soon we came to a hill, where a fire was lit in the clearing ahead, and a little further by the water there was a tall man, and, as far as I understood, he was fishing. Nelson pushed me in the back, and I went down to the water. But before I could even say hello, Narell himself began the conversation:

— Are you the doctor who voluntarily, out of the kindness of his heart, — he grinned. — Decided to come to this backwater?

— That’s right, — I was a little taken aback by such straightforwardness.

— Welcome, — undiluted sarcasm.

The man didn’t even turn in my direction — he was so sure of his rightness. And then he turned to Nelson, who instantly tensed up:

— And why did you bring him to me?

— You’ll die here completely if I sit here with my hands folded.

— Why do I need him, I ask?

Narell finally turned around and looked at me as if I was the cause of all his troubles.

— I have everything under control and I don’t want anyone else poking their nose into our affairs.

That was pretty rude.

— I understand why you react to me like that, but I doubt that you have “everything under control”, because you definitely don’t! A lot has happened here in the last month, especially bad things, and I, like Mr. Nelson, cannot ignore it, — I said firmly.

— Are you a doctor or an investigator? Your job is to treat people, I’ll take care of the rest.

Narell sighed and continued, not taking his eyes off me:

— Since I can’t send you both away, tomorrow we’ll need to go to the victims. Any other questions?

— If you can handle everything yourself, as you’re trying to convince us, then why can’t you solve this problem too?

— Shut your mouth.

I was taken aback for a second by this, and even Nelson didn’t interfere, although he was clearly unhappy with how the conversation went.

— I’m afraid to ask, — I began carefully, but was interrupted.

— Then don’t ask, doctor, — he emphasized the last word with his voice, as if indicating my place.

Not intending to tolerate this, I left this place without saying another word to him. I don’t know where exactly I was going, I didn’t even turn around when Nelson called out. Tomorrow after lunch. Okay. Let it be as he says. I’ll finish this and never see him again.

Later Nelson found me by the car. He apologized for what happened, helped me move my things to my new place of residence and left.

It’s getting on with the evening. Now I’m in what I must admit is a rather cozy house in the middle of the forest. In this place, each building is separated from the others by at least one hundred and fifty meters. The house that was given to me includes one room and a fairly spacious kitchen. Fortunately, it was very clean and dry inside, with the exception of the stairs to the second floor, which, like the steps at the threshold of the house, were a little rotten, and moss was visible on the walls at the back of the house. Otherwise, I have nothing to complain about. The nature here was, as I had imagined, magnificent. To begin with, I strolled out of the house and sat down on a bench worn by time. It seemed to have scratches from someone's claws on it. Probably the previous owners had a dog or some other animal. Tearing myself away from the boring examination of the wood, I looked up at the view that opened up to me. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that the flora here is charming. Broadleaf trees of a rich green color grew along the entire perimeter. At almost any time of the day you could hear the singing of birds, of which there were many different species in the area. Before dark, I managed to walk around the vast territory to unwind, and this helped a lot.

August 25.

The wall clock showed 04:16. The phone lay alone on the wooden nightstand by the bed.

I tiredly rubbed my eyes with my hand. Usually I used a flashlight so as not to make my way around the house in the evening by touch, trying not to bump into anything. I didn’t want to turn on the light. The instant coffee in the mug with a funny white cat had long since cooled down and now stood sadly, completely forgotten by me. For the last ten minutes, the book lying on my lap remained motionless. I stubbornly tried to read the text on the page that was in front of my eyes, but my brain simply refused to perceive the information, constantly returning my thoughts to that dialogue. The fact that something was fishy here was clear even without my guesses and conjectures. I took a deep breath, calming down. The main thing for me now is not to lose face in front of Narell, so I must be unperturbed and, as he said, do my job well. And I will deal with the rest without his knowledge and control. And what could he do to me? Really, and what was I afraid of? I need to rest until about ten o'clock so as not to look too bad. I returned to the second floor, leaving everything as it was. The penultimate step creaked ominously, which sent a chill down my spine and I hurried to hide in the room. It was eleven o'clock when I opened my eyes again and immediately screwed them up from the bright light that was pouring in a continuous stream from the window. I overslept a little, but nothing terrible. Getting up from the soft bed, I felt a pleasant lightness in my whole body, which I hadn't felt for a long time. I slept well! Great news. I think the day promises to be good. After water procedures, I got dressed and went down to the kitchen. In a couple of sips, I finished the bitter coffee, because it was a pity to spill it, and quickly prepared hot sandwiches with sausage and egg.

In fact, I had just finished my meal, turned off the gas stove and washed the dishes when my guest appeared on the path leading out of the village. He greeted me dryly and shook my hand. I noted to myself that he spoke calmly and clearly, and that his voice was deep and a little hoarse. Now that I had the chance to meet him face to face in a calm environment, I can say that he was very attractive in appearance for his age. A man of about thirty-seven with dark, straight, shoulder-length hair that was very tangled in some places, dressed in a simple white shirt, the first three buttons of which were casually unbuttoned, and loose black trousers. If I were to describe his face, it is worth noting that he had dark green eyes, a nose with a slight hump and thin lips that had never stretched into a smile in my presence. His hands were rough, from which I concluded that he often did hard work. Perhaps he has a family here that he is worried about. This picture made my chest warm. Maybe I was wrong to slander him, and Narell is not so bad. But with his next phrase he dashed all my hopes for friendship with him:

— Stop smiling, it looks terrible! — he said with feigned disgust.

An intolerable person, and a rude one at that. Apparently, my thoughts were clearly reflected on my face, because then Narell condescendingly patted me on the shoulder and told me not to sulk.

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theshiaxartistwrites · 2 years ago

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Stardrop Valley

Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy's: Security Breach X Stardew Valley

Rating: Mature

Tw: 2nd person, Lots of dead characters, Child Death, Missing Children, Graphic Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Alternate Universe, Magic is Real, Monsters are Real, Not Canon Compliant, Different situations mean different behaviours, characters in distress, Kidnapping, Torture, thalassophobia

AO3 Link

Chapter One: Day One, Spring

When you were 12 your mother died in a car accident, coming to pick you up from the airport after visiting your father in Gotoro. It takes three weeks in child protective services before you're sent to live with your father across the sea. When you're 13, your father sends you to live with your grandfather on his farm. You don't remember much about that summer, the fun overshadowed by the trauma that filled the rest of your life. It's when you're getting back on the bus, on its way to the airport to head back to your father's house, that your grandfather stops you. You remember looking up at his soft smile and big white santa claus beard, a letter held out to you in his work-weathered hands.

He hands you a crisp white envelope with a blue and gold wax seal in the shape of a crescent moon with a sun peeking out from behind it. It was a thick, weighty thing in your tiny hands, your grandfather placing a hand on your head as he spoke.

"Some day, when you're older, when the weight of the world feels cold and cruel and you need a new start, I want you to open this. My precious gift to you."

Being so young it felt less like a gift and more like a forbidden thing to tuck into a binder with your birth certificate and keep safe, but forgotten. Your grandfather passes not long after you leave his farm. Your childhood isn't easy and your father isn't exactly loving, but you survive. High school is the same. College, however, is hell.

You moved back to Ferngill before the war, hoping to avoid the fighting. You spend two years trying your hardest, estranged from the rest of your family after your father passes away, considered a traitor for leaving him alone. You have to get a job to pay for your tuition and your super healthy daily breakfast, lunch, and dinner of ramen. Working whenever you're not at school, you barely sleep and have no one you can actually call a friend. Year three you can no longer keep up and drop out, taking on your job at Joja Corp full time to afford a barren single bedroom apartment in the city, close enough that you can walk instead of drive. Not that you had a car anyway.

You spend too many years working. It starts to blend together into a mass of grey walls and computer screens. The dull faces and white button up shirts start to blur together. It's a hard, boring life, but it doesn't feel like it could get any worse.

How wrong you were.

In the span of a week, you're laid off with 90% of your coworkers, due to the company being bought out and downsized by another company called 'Fazbear Entertainment'. What an entertainment company wants with a corporation like Joja, you're not high enough up the food chain to know. What you do know is that Fazbear Entertainment is also responsible for your apartment complex being bought up and the 30 day eviction notice that is posted on your door.

No job. No savings. And soon to be homeless.

You're sobbing into your couch cushions when you remember the envelope. You can't put too much faith into something given to a child by a grandparent you barely knew, but…what else did you have?

You drag yourself from the damp spot on your old couch and to the small box of important papers you keep under your bed. A little digging and you spot the blue and gold wax among the aged documents. It feels heavy in your hand, the weight of all your hopes for the future rest with this 'gift'.

You slide a finger under the wax seal and it pops away almost too cleanly. Lifting the flap up, you spot several different papers folded up inside. The first is a simple letter from your grandfather, written in glittery blue ink. It's almost word for word what he told you back then, a wish to depart this 'precious gift' upon you, at the bottom the handwriting turns shaky.

I hope they help you as much as they helped me.'

'If you are reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

I've enclosed the deed to my pride and joy, Sunnyday Farm. A quaint place on the southern coast, in Stardrop Valley.

I've left you my most precious gift of all, I know you'll cherish them.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

Your hands shake as you pull out the rest.

A check, for approximately 100,000g, from a savings account your grandfather put aside for you.

And the deed.

You spend all night crying, clutching the gifts to your chest and thanking whatever gods will carry your gratitude to your grandfather.

The next morning you pack up whatever you can take with you; clothes, your documents, and some sentimental things, and leave the rest behind. You stop by the bank and, while they won't give you the cash outright, they help you move the money into a checking account in your name and give you a credit card. You still stop at the atm outside to grab some cash just to be safe. With a backpack and two suitcases stuffed a little too full, you climb aboard the bus to Stardrop Valley.

Well.

Not really.

As it turns out, the bus doesn't actually go to the Valley anymore.

You sit and talk with the bus driver, a middle aged woman with curly red hair and a mountain of purple eyeshadow, for a while and learn that the Valley is practically a ghost town. It's a bit personal, but she explains that several people died, her own daughter included, and the rest of the folks up and left. She doesn't suggest staying, but when you explain your own situation, she suggests trying to sell the property. Your expression is enough to get her to change the subject. She's kind enough to drop you off at a gas station a little further than her route calls for, wishing you luck on your journey and asking you to please stay safe. She gives you a little folded piece of paper with her number on it.

"If you ever need help, call me." She gives you a sad, motherly smile and you feel your heart ache as you wave goodbye.

You wave until the bus disappears around a corner and pick up your bags, checking the gps on your phone as it recalculates for being on foot. Four miles and an hour long walk. That's not too bad. Though the sun starting to dip behind the mountains is a bit unsettling. It's only 6 pm, plenty of sunlight left, surely.

You pick up your feet and begin your march, your old leather jacket zipped up against the wind. That hour turns into an hour and a half, your feet sore from walking uphill in boots and your arms are tired from lugging your belongings. Why'd you have to bring so much shit anyway?

Up ahead you spot a tunnel, dark and foreboding in the already dimming light. Whatever. No big deal. You have places to be. You step up to the tunnel and freeze.

What was that?

You could have sworn you heard something up ahead. An echo of something scraping against the concrete. Claws? A knife? Was it a bear? A killer clown?!

No. Running before you were actually in danger was a great way to tire yourself out even more and make yourself an easy target. So instead, you tuck your phone into your breast pocket with the flashlight poking out so you can still see ahead of you and step hesitantly inside.

No. No no. Stop. You were not going to be scared away by your own imagination. The bus lady's stories just got you a little anxious, that's all. You were smarter than that. Or at least you knew how to check if something was waiting to kill you in the dark.

Digging out your phone, you turned on the flashlight and aimed it down the tunnel. A glint of something in the dark caught your eye, but when you turned the light toward it, there was nothing there. Maybe it was just a racoon or a squirrel, a sneaky critter that was hard to catch in the act. You do spot what looks like a lockbox on the side of the tunnel, but there's no one around it. It's not even a very long tunnel, you can make it. Maybe if you ran?

You were not scared.

You were going to be fine.

You were not going to die.

Nothing here could possibly hurt you-

SKRITCH

You wheel around with wide eyes, knuckles white as you gripped your luggage, and are greeted with the sight of a horrible monstrosity, staring at you from the ground with bared teeth and a multitude of wide inhuman eyes.

An opossum.

A mama opossum with her three little babies clinging to her back.

She hisses at you and slowly moves around you, carrying on her way through the tunnel. You are so very glad there's no one here to see how stupid you look, poised and ready to fight a huffy mama opossum with a bag of luggage. You let her pass and then quietly follow her out, looking up at the pink bloom that covers the darkening sky.

The other side of the tunnel is not much less intimidating, a dead end road with a dense forest to your left and a tree-lined path to your right. A sign at the end of the road has big blue letters that read 'WELCOME TO DAYSTAR! HOME OF-', the last word has been painted over with black paint, red graffiti over the black reads 'MONSTERS! TURN BACK!'

How goofy.

You've seen monsters before, the odd slime in a sink, a giant bug outside your window, but regular monsters were underground dwellers. A seaside town, no matter how abandoned, should still be perfectly safe. Well. Maybe not ‘safe’, not after what the bus driver told you, but this still seems extreme. You check your gps real quick, you're so close to your new home! A ten minute walk and you'll be standing on your new porch!

The path there is a little overgrown, you see plenty of weeds and unpicked berry bushes along the path, but nothing prepares you for the absolute jungle that is Sunnyday Farm. The light has faded fast, leaving your flashlight to illuminate the 20 feet or so of forest ahead of you. The arch that leads into the fenced property is absolutely entangled with moss and vines that you have to push aside to get past. Just inside the gate on your right you catch a glimpse of an old shed with a rusty roll-up door, a large wooden bin sat to the left of it that is topped with years of mossy growth. The stone pathways are so overgrown with grass and weeds that you have to lift up your bags to get to the house.

A lump of kudzu to the left of the wooden bin you realize is your mailbox, if only because you spot the little red flag stuck up underneath it all.

You can't even see the property properly in the darkness, but what light your phone's flashlight can give promises a dense green forest of work ahead of you.

Perfect.

You drag your bags up the mossy wooden stairs and stare up at the beautiful house before you. A two story wooden home with a reddish wooden trim. You step up to the door, brushing aside spider webs and kudzu, and wipe away the layer of dust to peek inside. It's pitch black and, when you test it, the handle is locked.

You are painfully aware that you were not left a key to go along with your new home. Maybe it was hidden somewhere-?

A rustling sound catches your attention and you freeze. Another animal? The rustling doesn't freeze with you, slowly getting closer, coming towards you through the tall grass behind you. It sounds a lot like footsteps.

You turn quickly and feel your blood run cold.

Trudging through the grass and weeds is a lumbering humanoid made of moss and weeds, all tangled together into a face with hollow sockets and a gaping, toothless maw. Jagged branches stick out of the ends of its arms like makeshift claws, the tips a lighter color from obvious sharpening.

As it steps out of the grass and onto the bottom step, you are suddenly very aware of how helpless you are. Backed against a locked door, burdened with luggage, unarmed, and in the dark on a moonless night in a place you don't know.

The golem takes a step up the stairs and you watch it bring its claws up towards you. You drop one bag and grab the other with both hands, swinging it hard at the creature. Your hardside suitcase makes full contact with the monster's head and shoulder, a loud clang like you've struck metal. You don't wait to see how much damage you actually did, ditching your suitcases as you dart to the right, jumping off the porch and dropping into the thick grass. You can already hear the golem lumbering after you, but it's slow.

You dart around the backside of the cottage, trying your damnedest not to trip as you go. Your plan is to try and make it back to the road, maybe it won't follow you that far. You nearly fall over with how fast you skid to a stop, spotting a window on the backside of the house, the glass is completely missing. It's on the second floor, but a white lattice heavy with kudzu leads right up beside it. You're climbing up it before you can assess how dumb it is. You hear the creaks of the wood and vines popping apart, but you’re more focused on the crunch of sticks and grass as the golem comes around the side of the house. You grab the window sill and drag yourself inside, gasping as your backpack nearly snags.

You end up on top of some wooden piece of furniture and carefully slide the ground as quietly as you can manage, hands clasped over your mouth as you take deep slow breaths to try and get your panting under control. You can hear it walking, stepping slowly closer to the lattice. For a moment you think it has stopped at the bottom and you quickly slap a hand over your phone, cutting out the light just in case it can look up at the window. Heartbeats pass and you stop breathing. Finally you hear a crunch, the monster slowly moving back around to the front of the house.

You lay there, feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest, feeling the burning in your hands and arms from the short burst of athletics, and straining to listen to the world outside. You’re not entirely sure how long you lay there, but it’s long enough that you’re sure it’s not coming back. Getting to your feet, you carefully uncover your phone, taking a look at the room you’ve climbed into. It’s a plain, if well-made, wooden room with eight chests of different colors against the wall with the two windows. You’re well aware that the window you came in through is completely missing its glass, while the other appears boarded shut from the inside.

Sat against the same wall, between the windows and chests is a dusty old workbench, tools neatly placed, but rusty with lack of use and care. Above the workbench, hung on the wall, is a shield. You actually try to take it down and find it’s well bolted to the wall.

Damn.

Maybe you’ll try and take it down later, when you’ve made sure the house is actually safe.

You turn around and spot an old lamp in the corner between two doors, a stool with a radio sat beside it. In the opposite corner is what looks like a large table with several books stacked on it. You don’t waste your time with any of it, instead moving to the door on your left.

You carefully turn the handle and feel relief as it turns, unlocked.

You point your flashlight inside and spot stairs leading downstairs to the ground floor. Perfect!

But…you should check the other door too.

You close the door softly, trying to make as little noise as possible, and open the other door the same way. This time you’re greeted with deep blue carpet and dark blue walls dotted with light blue swirl-like stars.

This was…

This was your room.

You remember it.

Stepping inside you see your bed sat in the middle of the back wall, sat between two more boarded up windows draped over with long blue and purple banners decorated with glowing jellyfish. The glow-in-the-dark moon and star decals above your old bed cling to some of the light. You sweep your light around the room, spotting your old glass butterfly hutch and minifridge in opposing corners. The two things that catch your attention are the pot of yellow flowers on the nightstand by the bed and the little bonsai tree on your old moon table in the far corner.

You step around the bed and caress the little yellow flowers. They’re real and thriving. A finger poked into their dirt, you find the soil is damp. Someone watered these recently. Is that why the door was locked? You feel a cold chill wash over your shoulders. While this is technically your house, you don’t know who or what is living here and they may consider you the trespasser.

You have three choices.

Leave the way you came in and risk trying to get back to the road with god knows what out there to chase you.

Search the house in the dark and hope you don’t get shot by some squatter or eaten by a goblin.

Or, lock the doors and sleep here for the night and try to find the squatter in the morning when you can run away in the daylight without the threat of monsters.

You lock the door you came through and then walk across to the door opposite and lock it too. You kick off your shoes and drop your backpack by the minifridge. A gentle hum catches your attention and you press an ear into the fridge. It’s on and running. You open it and the light inside floods out into your room. There’s actually snacks in there too! A bottle of apple juice, a maple bar, a bag of roasted hazelnuts, a bag of chocolate chip cookies, a breakfast bar, and a rainbow rock candy stick wrapped in plastic. All of the items look unopened, even the juice.

You can pay whoever bought them back later, right now, you’re in need of whatever you can get. You grab the apple juice and crack it open, taking a few very large gulps straight from the bottle before putting it back and grabbing the hazelnuts and breakfast bar.

You decide to try your luck and dig out your phone charger, plugging it into the same plug as the fridge and nearly doing a little dance when it works. Setting your phone on the nightstand, you keep your jacket on as you climb onto the bed. It’s a little too short for you, but just as cozy and warm as you remember. Your chest aches as you think about this room, crunching quietly on your snacks. You’re not sure why you don’t remember more about this place, but just laying in this cozy little room is enough to remember why you came back.

You turn off your flashlight when you finish your snacks and look up at the glowing moon and stars on your ceiling as you drift off to sleep.

#fanfiction #shiaxart #fnaf security breach #Stardew Valley #Stardrop Valley #1st Person #Crossover #Chapter one

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airportspickup · 8 days ago

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Booking a black car service in Washington DC is easy and efficient. Many providers offer user-friendly online booking systems, 24/7 customer support, and transparent pricing with no hidden fees. Whether you’re planning ahead or need a last-minute ride, you can count on punctuality and professionalism every time.

Experience the Best of Washington DC with a Black Car Service

Your time is valuable — don’t waste it in traffic or waiting for unreliable rides. Elevate your transportation experience with a Black Car Service Washington DC that reflects your standards. In a city known for power and prestige, ride like you belong.

#Black Car Service Washington DC

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paintprotectionfilmservices · 19 days ago

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The ROI Of Graphene Coating For Fleet And Taxi Owners

In the competitive landscape of fleet management and taxi services, every detail counts. Factors such as fuel efficiency, driver performance, vehicle availability, and customer satisfaction can all contribute to significant savings and improved returns. One enhancement that is quickly gaining traction in the automotive maintenance industry is graphene coating – a groundbreaking upgrade that provides exceptional protection and lustre for vehicles. While fleet and taxi operators may initially view the investment in graphene coating as a luxury, a closer look reveals it to be a cost-effective, long-term solution that greatly enhances ROI. Here’s why.

The importance of first impressions in ridesharing and taxi services

When a customer requests a cab, particularly through app-based platforms or for corporate clients, the vehicle's appearance significantly affects their view of professionalism and safety. Graphene coating enhances the paint’s richness and shine, giving cars a fresh, new appearance that endures. Whether it’s a matte grey electric vehicle or a glossy black luxury sedan, the coating improves the finish, making even older models appear upscale. This leads to better online ratings and passenger feedback, increased trust for high-end or corporate rides, and a boost in bookings due to an enhanced brand image.

Enhancing brand value with a cohesive appearance

If you oversee a branded fleet, such as airport taxis, employee shuttles, or executive rentals, maintaining a consistent, polished look across your vehicles reinforces your brand identity. With graphene coating, you ensure a uniform shine throughout the fleet, keeping vehicles cleaner for extended periods, regardless of location or weather conditions, while minimizing aesthetic issues like paint dullness or oxidation. Over time, this fosters a strong visual identity and enhances customer recall, which is vital for cultivating brand loyalty.

Long-term surface protection means reduced reconditioning expenses

Fleet vehicles often face tough conditions such as constant driving, occasional bumps, intense sunlight, and unpredictable weather. As a result, they can suffer from faded paint, oxidation, swirl marks, micro-scratches, and stubborn stains over time. Applying a single layer of graphene coating provides a robust barrier that safeguards the factory paint underneath. This protection reduces wear and tear over months and even years, positively influencing vehicle resale value, end-of-lease reconditioning expenses, and the perception of your brand. For taxi services, a gleaming, well-kept vehicle signals to customers that you prioritize quality and cleanliness, an important psychological factor that encourages repeat business.

Reduced maintenance, increased efficiency

Maintaining a fleet can be both tedious and costly, particularly when it comes to regular cleaning. With frequent use and constant exposure to dirt, pollution, and other environmental elements, vehicles often need to be washed daily or weekly. Thanks to its hydrophobic properties, graphene coating prevents water and dirt from adhering to the surface. Rainwater rolls off, mud easily slides away, and even stubborn stains like bird droppings can be wiped off with minimal effort. For taxi and fleet vehicles, this means fewer professional washes are necessary, quicker and more affordable in-house cleaning can be done, and the use of soap, water, and labour is significantly minimized. In fleet operations, time is money; every moment a vehicle spends in the wash bay or detailing shop is a moment it’s not generating revenue. Graphene coating helps to decrease both the frequency and time spent on cleaning, leading to greater vehicle availability.

Extended vehicle lifespan leads to slower depreciation

Graphene not only enhances the appearance of your vehicle but also prolongs the durability of its paint and surface quality, which helps in slowing down depreciation. While all vehicles naturally lose value over time, a poor surface condition accelerates this decline. When cars show signs of wear, such as peeling paint, a dull finish, or scratches, it negatively impacts their resale or lease renewal value. Graphene coating provides UV protection to guard against sun damage and fading, chemical resistance to shield against acid rain, bird droppings, and tree sap, and scratch resistance to protect against minor abrasions from cleaning or road dust. This helps maintain the factory paint, ensuring better resale value and minimizing the need for expensive touch-ups or repainting.

Autopad – Your premier choice for graphene coating in Bangalore

For those managing a fleet or taxi service in Bangalore, Autopad in Jayanagar is the reliable option for professional graphene coating. Why choose Autopad? They offer expert application with high-quality graphene formulas, skilled detailers experienced in working with commercial vehicles, outstanding reviews from fleet operators and taxi drivers, a convenient location with quick service, and tailored solutions for fleet owners with bulk vehicle packages. Whether you oversee 5 cars or 50, Autopad guarantees that each vehicle receives the care it needs, keeping your fleet looking pristine and profitable. So, the next time you’re evaluating upgrades for your fleet, think long-term, think smart, think graphene coating in Jayanagar.

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dccharterbusofficial · 29 days ago

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Washington DC Charter Bus for Reliable Airport Transfers to DCA, IAD & BWI

Traveling to and from the airport can often be stressful, especially for large groups, corporate teams, wedding parties, or explorers with heavy luggage. Coordinating multiple rides, dealing with parking hassles, and navigating Washington, DC’s busy streets can quickly become overwhelming. That’s why booking Our DC charter bus for airport transfers to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport (DCA), Dulles International Airport (IAD), and Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport (BWI) is the smartest and most convenient option for seamless transportation.

Why Choose Our DC Charter Bus for Airport Transfers?

When arranging airport transportation for a large group, reliability, comfort, and efficiency are key. With Our professional drivers, spacious vehicles, and hassle-free travel planning, Our DC charter bus is the best solution for group transportation.

1. Stress-Free & Punctual Airport Transfers

Timing is everything when it comes to catching a flight or picking up arriving passengers. Our DC charter bus ensures that your group reaches the airport on time without the worry of traffic delays, parking problems, or multiple pick-ups. Professional drivers are experienced in navigating the most efficient routes to DCA, IAD, and BWI, making sure that passengers arrive at their destination without unnecessary stress.

2. Ideal for Groups of All Sizes

Whether you’re transporting a corporate team, a wedding party, a sports team, or an extended family, charter buses offer enough space to accommodate all passengers comfortably. Our DC charter bus can be customized based on group size, offering minibuses for smaller groups or full-sized motorcoaches for large parties.

3. Cost-Effective Transportation

Compared to individual rideshare services or rental cars, Our DC charter bus provides an economical way to transport groups. Instead of paying for multiple rides, a charter bus allows passengers to travel together, splitting costs and reducing overall expenses.

4. Comfortable & Spacious Travel Experience

Airport transfers don’t have to be exhausting. With Our DC charter bus, passengers enjoy comfortable seating, air conditioning, and plenty of room for luggage. Many buses also include premium amenities such as Wi-Fi, reclining seats, power outlets, and onboard restrooms for added convenience.

Group Transportation Washington DC – Perfect for Every Occasion

Our DC charter bus is an excellent option for airport transfers, but it’s also the ideal choice for various group transportation needs. Whether you’re traveling for business or leisure, charter bus services provide reliable, safe, and efficient transport across the city.

Corporate Airport Transfers

Business travelers need punctual and professional transportation to and from the airport. Our DC charter bus ensures that corporate teams, executives, and conference attendees travel smoothly between the airport and their hotels, offices, or event venues.

Wedding & Special Event Airport Transfers

Planning a wedding or special event in Washington, DC? Ensure that out-of-town guests arrive at the venue without stress by arranging an airport transfer with Our DC charter bus. Instead of coordinating multiple taxis or rideshares, a charter bus keeps all guests together, making their journey easy and enjoyable.

School & University Travel

Organizing an educational trip, college tour, or student excursion? Our charter bus provides a safe and convenient way to transport students and faculty to and from the airport. Whether it’s for a school field trip, a study abroad departure, or a university sporting event, Our DC charter bus ensures smooth and secure travel.

Sports Teams & Fan Travel

Athletic teams traveling to or from DC for competitions can benefit from charter bus services. With ample space for players, coaches, and gear, a DC charter bus is the best option for team transportation. Sports fans attending major games can also enjoy hassle-free transfers to and from the airport, eliminating parking worries and travel stress.

Special Events Limo Rental DC – Luxury Transportation for VIP Travelers

For those looking to elevate their airport transfer experience, Ourspecial events limo rental DC services provide luxury transportation with high-end vehicles, professional chauffeurs, and VIP treatment. Whether it’s for a business executive, a wedding party, or a red-carpet event, a limo rental offers a stylish and sophisticated ride.

Why Choose Our Special Events Limo Rental DC?

Luxury & Comfort – Ride in elegance with plush interiors, tinted windows, and premium sound systems.

Professional Chauffeurs – Enjoy a first-class experience with courteous and well-trained drivers.

Perfect for Special Occasions – Ideal for weddings, gala events, VIP arrivals, and high-profile guests.

If you need a more upscale alternative to Our DC charter bus, Our special events limo rental DC service provides an unmatched level of sophistication and personalized service.

How to Book Our DC Charter Bus for Airport Transfers

Booking Our DC charter bus for airport transfers is a simple and efficient process. Follow these steps to secure transportation for your group:

Determine Your Group Size – Choose the right bus based on the number of passengers and luggage requirements.

Provide Travel Details – Share your flight schedule, pickup location, and drop-off destination to ensure seamless coordination.

Select Additional Amenities – Customize your charter bus with Wi-Fi, power outlets, or ADA-accessible features.

Get a Quote – Contact a reputable Our DC charter bus provider to receive a competitive pricing estimate.

Confirm Your Booking – Secure your reservation in advance to guarantee availability.

Enjoy a Smooth Ride – Sit back and relax while your professional driver handles the rest.

Book Your Washington DC Charter Bus Today With Our DC Charter Bus!

Whether you need Our reliable DC charter bus for airport transfers, corporate events, weddings, or sightseeing tours, we provide top-notch transportation services in Washington, DC.

For a hassle-free and comfortable travel experience, call or text (202) 765-2351 today and reserve your group transportation Washington DC service. Let us handle the logistics while you enjoy a stress-free and efficient ride!

Source: https://medium.com/@dccharterbusofficial/washington-dc-charter-bus-for-reliable-airport-transfers-to-dca-iad-bwi-13c6949f89dc

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