#foldable lamp

[darkeststorm]

Christmas List

What tangible things are on your Christmas list? It’s been years since I made one.

For me:

Coffee Tumbler, I want a bigger one because I am ridiculous

Water Bottle, I’d like one with a filter

Mug, any excuse for a new mug

Sweater, I only have a couple

Cardigan, see above

Headband Earwarmers, I need some

Scarf, my mom’s been telling me to get one

Fuzzy socks - It gets so cold at home

Earbuds, I’ve lost mine

Slim wallet, see above

Journal for daily life or morning pages

Notebook for poetry

Pink planner, mostly to track books read and obtained

One Line A Day or Another Guided journal to destress

Pink Pens, to write with

Pendant metal bookmarks, to read with

Heart page bookmarks, see above

Word Search Book, to destress

Coloring Book, see above

Satin pillowcases, to help my hair

Pink throw blanket, to stay warm

Foldable lamp - to use in the front room at a desk

Pink Block calendar - To replace my old fading one at work

Pastel post-its for work

YA Fiction books

Poetry books

-

I definitely won’t get all of these but I am doing a couple Christmas swaps so I am hoping to get a couple things

[figliving]

Portable Desk Lamps: Stylish, Battery-Powered Work Companions - FIG Living

One unsung hero that frequently comes to mind while discussing workspace optimization is portable desk lighting. These small, adaptable, and fashionable lighting options provide flair and usefulness to any workplace arrangement. Portable lamps offer the ideal fusion of style and convenience, whether you're working through the night at your home office or while on the road.

We'll look at why portable desk lamps are a necessary component of your workstation in this post. We'll discuss their features, types, and advantages while maintaining a lighthearted and conversational tone. Who doesn't adore a device that puts in as much effort as you do, after all?

Introduction to Portable Desk Lamps

Picture a little superhero sitting on your desk, available at all times, out of your way, and fashionable enough to blend in with any type of interior design. A portable desk lamp enhances your workstation in this way. However, what is so unique about these lamps?

Why Choose a Portable Lamp?

A portable lamp that travels with you is preferable to a heavy, permanent light. For people who appreciate design and adaptability, these lamps are ideal. Do you need to move from your desk to your reading nook for work? No issue. Do you want to travel for the weekend with your lamp? Simple.

Benefits of Battery-Powered Lamps

Let's discuss power. You may work anywhere without being confined to an outlet thanks to battery lighting. Students, remote workers, and anybody else who needs lighting on the go will love these.

No Cords, No Clutter

Bid farewell to tangled cables and welcome to a workstation free of clutter.

Energy Efficiency

Modern battery-operated lamps are an environmentally beneficial option because they are made to use less electricity.

Key Features to Look For

What qualities are important in a portable desk lamp? Here are some things to watch out for:

Brightness Levels:  Modifiable for various purposes.

Battery Life: Extended battery life for continuous operation.

Design: Modern, sleek styles that complement your style.

Types of Portable Desk Lamps

The alternatives are unlimited, ranging from wireless options to foldable lamps.

1. Foldable Lamps

These are ideal for small areas and convenient storage.

2. Clip-On Lamps

Perfect for headboards or even compact workstations.

3. Touch-Control Lamps

a contemporary function that allows you to tap to change the brightness.

Foldable Lamps: Space-Saving Heroes

Consider a foldable lamp to be the lighting equivalent of a Swiss Army knife. It fits into even the smallest spaces and is small and adaptable. Ideal for both frequent travelers and minimalists.

Battery Life: What to Expect

Battery longevity is a frequent worry. The portable lamps from FIG Living are made to last; some variants may run for up to 20 hours between charges. It's ideal for extended study sessions or late-night pursuits because it's nearly a complete day of light.

Style Meets Functionality

Who says functionality can't be fashionable? From sleek Scandinavian aesthetics to industrial flair, modern stylish desk lamps are available in a range of forms. These lamps improve your decor in addition to lighting up your job.

Best Portable Lamps from FIG Living

Offering the greatest portable lighting is something we at FIG Living take great pride in. Here are a few of our collection's best choices:

LuxeFold: A high-end foldable lamp with a brightness-adjustable feature.

GlowMate: Astylish touch-controlled wireless lamp.

EcoBright: Asustainable choice for those who care about the environment.

Use Cases: Where Portable Lamps Shine

The versatility of portable lamps. This is where they really excel:

Home Office: Ideal for working remotely.

Travel: portable and lightweight.

Reading Nooks:  Offers concentrated illumination without upsetting other people.

Maintaining Your Portable Lamp

To maintain your lamp's best condition:

To get rid of dust, clean frequently.

To prevent damage, store correctly.

To keep the battery healthy, recharge it as necessary.

Eco-Friendly Lighting Options

In the modern world, sustainability is essential. Many portable lamps adhere to eco-friendly principles by using recyclable materials and energy-efficient LEDs.

How to Choose the Right Lamp for Your Needs

When looking for the ideal lamp, take into account the following factors:

Purpose: Is it for reading, work, or decoration?

Portability: How frequently will it be moved?

Features:  Do you require a folding design, touch control, or a brightness adjustment feature?

User Reviews and Testimonials

Don't rely just on our word. What our clients have to say is as follows:

"FIG Living's LuxeFold is revolutionary. Small, fashionable, and strong!

"The GlowMate is fantastic. It's ideal for my nightstand.

Conclusion

More than just a lighting option, portable desk lamps are the ideal work partner. These lights provide unrivaled versatility, design, and practicality whether you're working from home, traveling, or just updating your study.

FAQs

What are the main benefits of a portable desk lamp?

Portable desk lamps are ideal for every workspace because they provide style, energy efficiency, and flexibility.

How long do battery-operated lamps typically last?

Although battery life varies, many versions can illuminate for up to 20 hours on a single charge.

Are portable lamps eco-friendly?

Indeed, the majority of contemporary portable lamps are made of recyclable materials and energy-efficient LEDs.

How do I maintain my portable desk lamp?

Your lamp will remain in great condition with regular recharging, appropriate storage, and routine cleaning.

Can portable lamps be used outdoors?

Indeed, a lot of portable lamps are made to be used both indoors and outside, which makes them adaptable to a variety of environments.

[mortiz888-blog]

Inflatable Solar Light LED Solar Powered Foldable Light Outdoor Garden Yard Emergency Solar Road Lamp

[thenicebazaar]

Creative shape, white & yellow LED light, Cultural elements, Tyvek paper. Waterproof, easy to cleam, tear-resistant. Take this fan shaped light home to decorate your living room, bedroom, studies, Children's room, hotel, library....Anyplace you put it, it will be the beautiful scenery.

[beansprean]

My entry for What We Create In The Shadows vol 4! @wwcitszine

It was a privilege to be able to contribute to this zine among such creative, talented, and fun artist and writers! The mods truly did an incredible job and the zine is BEAUTIFUL! Highly recommend getting a physical copy if you can. :)

You can still get WWCITS until July 28th! All proceeds to to PFLAG!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: Detailed drawing of a city street at night; Nandor, Laszlo, Nadja, and Colin Robinson are in the foreground, running for their lives towards the viewer. Chasing them (having caught up to them, really) is vampire Guillermo flying through the air on bat wings, silhouetted by the glowing full moon behind him. He is grinning maniacally with his clawed hands curled upward in triumph, eyes glowing a burning orange as he poses mid-flight, chest puffed out with his newfound power. Nandor is in the front, arms pumping, eyes wide with fear as he looks straight ahead. At his elbow is Laszlo, looking over his shoulder in alarm, one hand clamped around Nadja's wrist to drag her on behind him. Nadja's other hand is holding up her skirts and cradling Nadja doll potato-sack style in her elbow as she rushes along. She looks upward with a snarl, distracted, as Guillermo looms above her. Lagging behind is Colin Robinson, huffing and puffing as he tries to keep up.

The city street behind them is full of easter eggs. A kiosk on the left behind Laszlo is covered in flyers: fundraiser to cover medical bills for Toby, a recruitment poster for the Mosquito Club, an add for reanimations for $350 cash, a Go Flip Yourself ad, a comptroller campaign poster for Sean covered up by one for Colin covered up by one for Evie, a newspaper article about Morrigan Manor, a Wicked poster, a flyer for the familiar mixer, a missing poster for Jenna, a Found poster for Guillermo's bicycle, a handwritten ad that says "Djinn to good home, call Gyermo" with a photo of the djinn lamp, and several stickers including one that says 'werewolves not swearwolves, a Palestinian flag, and the s5 moon promo shot. Sitting atop the kiosk is a frog with curly brown hair - la Guillerana, and above it on the brick wall is a black poster featuring a hooded figure with round glowing eyes that says "The Night Market: if you know, you know." The roof of the building has a clothesline stretched across it where the Cloak of Duplication is hanging. The next building has glass doors and windows across the first floor with soft ambient lighting coming from within. A foldable chalkboard outside says 'closed for privat pardy'. The name of the restaurant is printed above the door: 'love at first bite'. The second floor is a grid of square windows with the blinds drawn, a single ad for Rapula Realty in an upper window. A single anonymous finger parts the blinds on a lower window to peek out. The third floor has three windows and fairy lights draped across the front. A purple flag that says 'human wellness inquire within' hangs from the first window, and the second has one foggy pane with the word 'help' written on it backwards. Black Peter the goat is on the roof, front hooves planted on the ledge to look out at the running vampires in the street. The following building has a grid of windows and a temporary vinyl sign stretched across it that says 'Urgent Care'. More buildings stretch out behind to the horizon.

On the right, there is a small newspaper vending machine with the headlines 'Flying Man Spotted' and 'Strange meteor lands in New Brighton'. The adjacent building has four stories, the only entrance a set of stairs going straight down. Neon pink lights pour from the doorway and lowermost windows. Above the doorway with an arrow pointing down is a neon sign for Nadja's. Below it, a poster exclaiming 'Baby Colin Live!' One of the middle windows has a sign that says 'Nadja and Laszlo Human Music Group performing Thursday nights'. Hanging from the roof precariously by both hands and looking towards the ground in terror is Patton Oswalt. One of the Baron's mutant children is sitting happily on the ledge nearby. A tree is on the roof and has some kind of net hanging from it. The next building is corporate and mostly windows, the bottommost portion open and flanked by yellow poles, a yellow and black divider blocking the entrance. An awning above it says 'Jesk Parking'. Inside, there is what looks to be a pile of rats. Two bats fly past. A vinyl sign stretched over the building front is an ad showing a man hugging a pillow that says "Get the Guy Pillow! Buy 100 get 1 free! Guys only!" The roof turns suddenly to greco-roman architecture, a row of stone columns lining the edge. Sitting at the very top are the two gargoyles having a riveting conversation. The next building is 3 stories and has a trans flag hanging from one corner and a progress flat from the other. The first floor has an alcove with a door flanked by two windows, one featuring shelves with jars of white liquid, the other a palmistry poster that reads 'free palm reading with every ejaculation'. The store name above reads 'Satchel Serafina' More text on the second floor reads 'Home of Memo's Man Milk, gathered lovingly by hand.' Beyond this building is a small grassy area behind a fence with a dead old tree and some graffiti that says 'Simon the Devious' with a crown. There is a nearby sewer drain under the sidewalk where a hand is reaching out. More buildings stretch out behind to the horizon. /end ID

[ode-to-melpomene]

The Hand That Feeds

Part 2 of 'Stray' Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader Synopsis: Confrontation rarely goes as planned. Word Count: 2791 Warnings: Stalking, minor gore/injuries, allusions to death, Jason doesn't know how to process his feelings without being mean.

Jason had tried to rationalize why he kept coming back. Really, he had tried. He had to make sure you weren’t hiding something. He didn’t trust the packages you handed out. He was just making sure you got home safe.

But what could you possibly be hiding when you appeared to lay your soul bare on Gotham’s filthy streets? What didn’t he trust about the packages when he had seen their contents with his own eyes? Why did he need to make sure you made it home safe at all?

None of it explained how comfortable he had become on the balcony across from your apartment.

Jason glowered under his helmet as snow fell in thick clumps, whipped about by the harsh breeze. You left your window open sometimes when the wind had died down. Tonight was not one of those nights. He stuck to the shadows, scrunching his shoulders, and crouched on the balcony–you would have to look out of your window and up to see him. That fact did not provide him with any sense of relief.

The lights were off in your apartment save for what he assumed was a lamp out of his view. He could hardly make out the furniture he seemed to know so well from a distance; the second hand couch you had shoved against a wall and the foldable table that was constantly covered in a slathering of random items. One of the three chairs you owned was dragged beneath one of the three large windows that allowed him to view into your apartment. To the right of the three large windows was the fire escape and the small window beside it. The thin curtains were drawn on that window.

In the two weeks Jason had been observing you he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. You didn’t seem to spend much time at your apartment, using it primarily for sleeping or preparing your deliveries. He could tell from your clothing that you worked some middle management, decent paying job like most Gothamites in this neighborhood. He knew when you left for work, when you got home, what kind of music you liked.

He knew your name. Of course he did, that had been the first thing he had hunted for after lurking outside your apartment the first time. Lurker. Jason had never described himself as that before. It seemed to be a lot of what he did now.

The curtains by the fire escape window drew back and Jason tensed as he always did. He watched with narrowed eyes as you slid the window open, placed something on the ledge, and closed the window again. It had become a ritual by now–you, leaving gifts for him every few days, and him, never accepting them. He never strayed too close to the items you left out, and they were always gone by his next visit.

Jason curled his fingers, the tips of his new gloves pressing into his knee pads. He worked his jaw, grinding his teeth together. The one dim light in the apartment went out, and his bated breath went with it.

He stood with a ragged sigh. So that was it, the end of his nightly routine. The sun would rise in a few hours and he needed to be tucked back into his safehouse before then-

What was that smell?

Jason jerked his helmeted head towards the fire escape. A tray sat outside the window, too big to rest on the ledge, and steam wafted upward as heat met wintery chill. Even through his modulated helmet he could smell the sweet, sugary aroma that stifled his rampant thoughts.

Caramel. It smelled like caramel.

Jason hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. He knew getting closer was a bad idea he likely wouldn’t be able to come back from. If he moved that mental boundary even an inch forward- give an inch, take a mile. That was all Jason Todd knew how to do anymore, afterall.

Snow crunched under his heavy work boots. The fire escape rattled subtly, the sound muffled by the wind. His mind screamed to stop, turn around, leave, and don’t come back. All of that came to a screeching halt when he saw brownies topped with a caramel drizzle in a glass pan. When was the last time Jason had warm brownies, or anything sweet for that matter? Not since-

Jason shook his head as if the act alone would clear the thoughts that tumbled through his head. Since dragging himself from the Pit, his diet consisted of scraps and canned food. Nothing like this bitter thing that stunk of home and burned itself into his memory.

One couldn’t hurt.

Right?

Jason was becoming too predictable. Shadowing you on your route home, lurking outside your apartment most nights, pursuing you through the tangled mess of streets in Crime Alley. It was all a recipe for disaster when someone finally caught onto the pattern. Jason couldn’t afford patterns, not when it put him in danger. And maybe put you in danger, too… not that he needed to be bothered by that. You weren’t some street urchin who needed his protection.

Yet, still, he hid in your shadow like a sheep dog trailing a lamb.

He sat on a different perch this time, making the fire escape platform that belonged to the apartment above yours his new home. He sat in a crouch, occasionally shifting to stretch his hips and work sore muscles. His elbows were planted on his knees, his eyes cast downward through the grating. The platform below was illuminated by the lights inside your apartment, that familiar golden glow bathing the rusted red metal.

Jason’s stomach lurched when the window slid open, softly clicking into place at the apex. Your hands extended slowly, clasped tightly around a plate wrapped in plastic.

“Stop,” Jason spoke up, breaking the silence.

The plate crashed onto the metal platform. He expected your hands to disappear back inside in fright and slam the window shut behind you. He expected that window to never open again.

Instead, you surged forward with your hands firmly planted on the snowy ledge. In the blink of an eye your entire torso was outside the window, your neck craning to catch a glimpse of him above you in the darkness. Jason’s heart thundered in his chest as your eyes finally met his helmet.

“Stop what?” you asked, and he thought his heart might stop at the sound of your voice.

“Stop that,” he growled with a tip of his helmeted head towards the fallen plate. He leaned forward and planted one gloved palm on the grated platform, glaring daggers at you. “I don’t need your help.”

You shuffled about so that you could sit on the ledge, paying no attention to the thin dusting of snow that no doubt wetted the pajama pants you wore. Jason squinted in the darkness at your shirt, the image of some musical group emblazoned on the front. Was that your favorite-?

That wasn’t important.

You gripped the ledge on either side of your thighs and leaned back as far as you could, holding yourself at an angle so you could stare up at him. He wished you would glare, sneer, pout- hell, if you laughed in his face it would be better than the doe-eyed stare you fixed him with.

“I just thought you might be hungry.”

His thoughts came to a screeching halt. This was Red Hood you were talking to–the new, violent vigilante who used decapitation as a means of sending a message. Jason who, quite frankly, fed himself not because he felt he deserved it but because he needed fuel to continue fighting. And here you were, gazing up at him with a blank expression as if talking to a man in kevlar and armor was the most normal thing in the world.

“I don’t need you to feed me,” he hissed between his teeth.

“Then why do you keep coming back?”

His eyes scoured yours beneath his helmet, memorizing their color, their shape, their emotion. He expected this would be the last time he would see your eyes, after all.

There had to be some reason you were doing this–people don’t just do good things. There had to be a motive. Maybe it was some sort of short-term fame you desired, being the person to finally get a close-up look at the savage animal that roamed Crime Alley at night without first having its fangs sink into you. Maybe this was some cheap attempt at an exciting seduction, one that would leave him angrier than he already was.

Or maybe you were just plain stupid.

Jason thought back to your apartment. Empty and cold and barely lived in, and, given the eagerness with which you presented yourself to him, perhaps you were the same. Lonely and stupid.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he snapped, teeth bared.

You glared. A nasty, pensive, bitter expression that sent a pleasant chill down his spine. Why did you look so sweet like this?

“Fuck you,” you snapped with equal measure. You gripped the bottom of the open window, slipped back inside, and slammed the plastic frame behind you. The glass rattled mockingly at Jason, who jolted at your sudden departure.

Oh.

Maybe he thought you looked sweet because that hateful glare was how Jason expected people to look at him. Hate, he could handle–maybe even revel in it, at this point. It was certainly easier than being loved and inevitably letting someone down.

So why did he feel like, despite your nasty glare, he had let you down?

Jason crouched there for a while after you left, long after the lights had gone out. When he finally stood, his joints ached from the long night and his chest felt heavy with unwanted emotions. His hands gripped the railing of your upstairs neighbor’s fire escape, then he swung himself over the edge.

His boots landed loudly on the metal grate of your fire escape. He stood there for a long moment, glaring at the dark window with its curtains tightly drawn. It was cold and uninviting–not that he deserved anything more. His gaze fell on the forgotten plastic-wrapped plate on the ground, then flicked back to the window.

Jason hated how much he thought about you.

His safe house apartment was, somehow, more barebones than yours. Jason lived stolen paycheck to stolen paycheck–he couldn't exactly get a job when he was legally dead. So, he spent his days preparing for his nighttime excursions, preparing to remold the Gotham criminal underworld.

Or washing dishes, as he was doing now.

Your dishes. That’s the only reason he was thinking of you, of course. Otherwise, the week he had spent far from your apartment meant nothing to him. He had left the glass baking tray and dinner plate sitting on his counter for too long, and, well…

He honestly wasn’t sure why he was washing it. He had no intention of returning the items, not when he was trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Well, except for two days ago when he had followed you through Crime Alley.

Jason just needed something to occupy his mind after his patrol. He scrubbed at the glass harder, as if the grating of the sponge could absolve him of his own sins. Blood on his hands, again. They deserved it. They always did.

Would you say the same?

Jason growled and dropped the dish in the sink, his soapy hands clasping the edge in an iron-tight grip. His knuckles turned white under the pressure, the bones sore and skin torn from endless nights of fighting. Why did his mind have to circle back to you again? Always back to you, what you were doing, if you would approve of what he was doing, what you were thinking or feeling.

It was the damn dishes. Yes, it had to be the fact that he was washing your things that made him think of you. Otherwise, he didn’t care what you thought, or did, or anything.

You were too damn sweet for his taste anyway.

Maybe if he returned the dishes and finally purged you from his life he wouldn’t think about you again. One last trip to your apartment–he wouldn’t even have to see you, he could just leave the items on your fire escape and be done with it. Knowing you, you were asleep by now and would be until mid-morning. He could leave it outside your window and if it was buried in snow before you realized it was there that wouldn’t bother him.

Jason hadn’t realized he had geared back up until he was standing beside his window. He blinked once, twice, staring down at the helmet in his hands. His heart thumped wildly in his chest.

He scoffed. He had forgotten the dishes in his haste.

Carrying the dishes during his traversal across the city wasn’t any easier the second time. He kept the plate and the glass pan tucked under one arm, carefully judging his leaps before launching himself between buildings and scaling walls. This would have been easier with his old equipment-

No. No, that door opened to a world of trouble he didn’t need. He would make do with what he had, and he would do a better job of cleaning up Crime Alley than anyone else ever could. Technology wasn’t important.

The tension in his shoulders eased when he landed on that familiar balcony across from your apartment. It was about four in the morning, and he was certain you would be asleep–the lights were out, the curtains drawn, and that was the only indication he needed to prove himself right. Jason stared for a moment longer, taking in the comforting silhouette of your apartment. He had memorized all the details weeks ago, to the best of his ability at this distance.

His heart drummed in his chest as he swung across the wide alley between the buildings. He landed hard on your fire escape and staggered to regain his footing, unbalanced with one arm immobilized by the damn dishes. His free hand hit the wall beside the small window to hold himself upright. Jason squeezed his other arm tighter against his side, pressing the dishes against his armored chest in an attempt not to drop the fragile items.

The window slid open.

Jason’s heart jumped into his throat as he tipped his helmet down to see you staring up at him, neck craning with your head out the window. Your eyes were wide, lips parted, brows scrunched together in confusion. His cheeks burned, a sharp shiver rolling down his spine.

He straightened and skittered away from the window. Your bewildered expression followed him, tracing up and down his armored figure with intrigue. This was the closest you had ever been to the mysterious vigilante–could anyone blame you for staring?

Then your hungry gaze dropped to the dishes tucked under his arm. Jason swallowed dryly as he watched the corner of your mouth cock up in a subtle grin. The familiar color of your eyes met his, and his chest ached.

This was a horrible idea.

“I waited,” you broke the silence. You shifted until your shoulders were out the window, your hands planted on the windowsill to hold you upright. You tipped your head, nodding in the direction of the building across the street. “I saw you there one of those last nights. I thought… I thought maybe you might come back. I looked for you there.”

Any retort died in his throat the moment you spoke. Part of him wanted to drop the dishes and run. Part of him wanted to scream at you, tear into you until you were nothing but little pieces. That was all he was good for anymore, ripping people apart. It wouldn’t be hard either.

You aren’t worth my time.

I don’t want to owe you.

You’re making a mistake.

Those were all things he wanted to or should say.

“I didn’t think you would want me to come back,” he answered truthfully.

You beamed. His breath caught raggedly in his throat and his thoughts came to a screeching halt. When was the last time someone had looked at him like that?

“Do you want to come inside?” you offered. You offered the very thing he had been craving for three weeks. A chance to step into your sweet domesticity, to satisfy his curiosity, to experience something warm and comforting. You cocked your head to the side, fixing him with that doe-eyed stare.

No, he knew he should say.

“Yes.”

Masterlist ✴ 'Stray' Series ✴ Next Part

Tag list: @taylorgriffin

[toruro]

svt as home furniture

seungcheol is very door. i don't even think this counts as home furniture but he is a Door.

jeonghan is like those weird egg chair swing thingies. do u guys know what i'm talking about? like an indoor swing? a hanging chair? looks like an egg?

joshua is a chest of drawers

jun is a Chair

saw someone say soonyoung is a bean bag and umm yeah

wonwoo is a light brown coffee table

jihoon is a foldable couch-bed

i feel like seokmin is a bedside lamp with a yellow lightbulb

mingyu is like a twin sized bed

minghao is very office desk to me

seungkwan is a circular breakfast table with a lazy susan in the middle

vernon is an orange chaise lounge chair

dino is an very upsettingly stained rug

[godteri-takk]

Cringetober day 11 📖 5+1 things fic!

I don't write much, but decided to write an objectum fic about my oc Coral and some of his partners: various plushies, her plush boyfriend Boy!, an elevator, a lamp post, her computer and a chain necklace.

Coral uses she/he pronouns, I mix them togheter but have tried to not make it confusing. Objects are percieved as sentient by Coral but do not literally talk or move in ways that they irl can not.

words: 2615

5 times Coral and her beloved objects had a nice time + 1 where a connection gets broken and lost

Coral got ripped uncomfortably out of her dream by the alarm. As always, she felt angry for having been waken, but knew she had 10 more minutes in bed. She smiled as she deactivated the alarm and snuggled her plushies extra close.

Her plushies … oh, how she adored them! 10 minutes with them every morning, 10 minutes of heaven. As always, Boy! was closest to her, and she gave him a good-morning kiss. Cinnamoroll, Keroppi, Dragon, Daisy and Stitches were close by, she took her time to hug them gently and nuzzle them softly with her face, giving them little kisses. She felt relaxed, and happy, and she knew and felt that her plushies loved her so incredibly much, just as much as she loved them.

“I love you.. I love you all so incredibly much,” she whispered softly to them, petting Cinnamoroll along his ears, rubbing Daisy on her shiny button nose, pressing her face to Dragons tummy, holding Keroppi tight in her hand, kissing Boy! on his cheeks and chest, nuzzling and squishing her plushies in turn. Through the cuddles, she felt love and adore radiate thru their plush bodies, “I love you too!” they said to her, not with voices, but with their souls.

Her precious 10 minutes ran out way too fast, as always. To keep her company thru her morning routine, Coral brought Boy! and Keroppi with her out of bed. The others, she tucked in lovingly and gave each of them a kiss on the forehead.  

“See you all again after work!”

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

Coral stepped off his bike and strode towards the tall building in which he currently worked. He smiled to himself, butterflies in his tummy and a spring in his step as he entered and walked towards the elevator.

The elevator … with its gleaming metal doors and luxurious interior, tiled floor, broad mirrors, sleek railing, a foldable bench and tall row of buttons. How he adored those buttons! Black with golden letters, glittering like precious gems, firm to press and always with a satisfying click! He pressed the button and waited with his hand over the two-button panel, impatient for his work crush to arrive. He hoped dearly to get his beloved elevator to himself today.

It arrived and opened its doors with a gleeful ding! Coral stepped into it, it was empty. The doors closed and Coral stood there for a moment, admiring his beautiful lover. This corner of the building was not too busy, so he made no hurry to press the button for the next uppest floor. He walked around in a slow circle, dragging his hand along the wall, clacking his claws against the mirror, eyes fixated on the walls, the roof, the lamp, the bench. And there, the button panel. He drew his breath shakingly and felt his face heat up. Tenderly, she let his fingers glide over the buttons, not too hard to press them in accidentally, but firm enough. They felt smooth, the golden letters sticking out slightly, adding the perfect amount of texture. Coral sighed happily.

“Did you miss me..? Do you get lonely in the weekends, without me?” He chuckled softly and stroked upwards to the button for his floor, pressing it. She could not help but smile widely, wagging his tail and gasping in glee as the elevator hummed and started its journey upwards. The butterlies in his belly fluttered wildly, Coral held the railing tightly, stroking it with his thumb. He giggled and spoke to it, genuinely and with love:

“You are so beautiful! I love the way you carry me, how you always come for me and welcome me with open doors. I imagine your body soaring through the building, your speed and power is so … attractive.” Coral blushed at this, reaching out to pet the metal doors. He felt love, love for his elevator and the elevators love for him. Yes, he really could feel how much it loved and adored him as they enjoyed this ride together. It felt so good to be there, time felt stretched out despite the ride being less than a minute.

“Next time I work late and I’m sure to have time alone together with you … I have something to ask you, something important…” He wanted to ask it if it wanted to date him. Make it official and all that. His heart pounded wildly as she thought of this, and he was just about to ask for a kiss when she felt it stop to a halt … one stop before his floor. Dang it!

A coworker entered.

“Good morning, Coral! -Erm, are you all right? You look a bit shaken up,” they remarked curiously.

“Ah-“ Coral caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He blushed quite visibly and he heard his breath was deeper than normal, his pupuls ever so dilated and his tail wagging low by the floor.

“I, I’m allright, just, had to run on the way here, still need to catch my breath,” they lied.

“Oh, well I hope you can calm your nerves before the meeting, haha!” The elevator stopped with its adorable ding! They continued to chatter as they walked to their workplaces, but their coworker noticed not the special, loving look Coral gave his crush over his shoulder as they left.

---------

Coral slumped towards her bike. She had worked late, but not late enough for her planned elevator date. The meeting had indeed been stressful, everyone talking over each other’s voices had given her a light headache. And the elevator had been unusually full on their descend, forcing them both to act as just … well, not friends, per say, but just another person in just another elevator. As she mounted her bike and sped down the street, she had one stop before her home to look forward to.

The warm, orange-ish lights from the lamp posts along the street reflected beautifully in the puddles by the sidewalk. Fallen leaves glittered in the light. At this time of year, it was already dark when Coral finished work. It was quiet in this part of the neighborhood, a kilometer long stretch of road with only a few buildings in sight. And there she was! Her favorite outdoor girlfriend, the lamp post!

And not just any lamp post, no, this one was special to Coral. Like the others, she was of metal, she had the same shape, the same height, and shined only a little weaker than the others. But she was special. Coral stepped off her bike and approached her, cooing her name in a soft voice.

“Noelle, my darling!” Coral caressed her lightly, restting her hand just above a cluster of stickers that some high scoolers must have put there to promote their school clubs. The metal was cold and strong as always. The orange light made Coral emotional, it shone as if Noelles soul was in there.

“How have you been? Anything new around this street? What dogs have walked by since Friday?” She leaned her forehead agains the cool metal, arms around the pole. Her headache eased up and she chuckled softly, continuing to talk to Noelle about her day, the elevator and the coworker, about what had happened so far in her book, about a tasty new recipe Kation had cooked for them. Noelle listened, absorbed the words and reflected back a sense of attention, wakefulness, and happiness.

“I’m glad you’re doing well lately, Noelle. I think of you often,” she said, rubbing the pole up and down, feeling along the familiar lines, bulks, rests of stickers and posters, and smooth smooth metal. She blushed and wiped the surface just across Corals own face with disinfectant wipes, before kissing Noelle lovingly. She hugged her girlfriend tightly and felt love and happiness blossom between them, her heart sang, and she hugged her tighter, sighing as she kissed her again and again, warming the metal a bit before kissing more passionately, with tongue. Coral hated how in winter Noelle became too cold to kiss, but it was yet only autumn. She mumbled her lovers’ name happily, feeling her metal body up and down while they made out on the street. If anybody drove or walked by, Coral was far too absorbed to notice. The light shone and flickered, as if Noelle felt as flustered and happy as Coral, and Coral was sure she did.

Eventually they broke apart, there were indeed a few people on the street, but they must have hurried past them, minding their own business for once. Good, Coral hated to be disturbed. It’s not like she harmed anyone. She caressed Noelle for a bit longer, talking about a few more things that she had waited to tell her, before waving goodbye. Seeing her lamp post girlfriend on her way home was one of the best parts of the day.

 --------

Home once again after a long day, Coral returned to her plushies, as promised. They lay together in her bed, tucked in and cozy just as he had left them.

“Hello again my darlings, have you all been well? You look like you’ve had a restful, comfortable day,” he said, picking them up and hugging them tight, kissing them. As she got to Boy!, she felt the need to spend some alone-time just with him. Of all her plushies, only Dragon, Cinnamoroll and Boy! were her partners, the others were beloved objects too, but shared not quite the same bond with her. She changed into more comfortable clothes and picked her boyfriend up from the bed, going to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

While they cooked together, they talked and listened to music. Tally Hall and Gary Numan, which were some of Corals favorites, and little purr man, which was Boy!s favorite. They danced while they stirred the pasta and roasted the vegetables, Coral’s tail wagging in wide swings.  Cooking together made Coral happy.

She set the table, and they ate together. Boy! did not eat, obviously, but she set out a plate, glass and a fork for him still. She pat him on the head.

“You look so handsome today,” Coral smiled to him.

“Wow, this pasta turned out really well! Good idea to add mushrooms to it, squash does not exactly have a strong flavour, haha!”

They dined in silence for a while. Coral looked into his black button-eyes, and oh how she loved him! She reached across the table to hold his paw, she rubbed it between her fingers.

“What would you like to do after dinner? I’ve been wanting to watch The Labyrinth lately, you remember the one with all the puppets and the ballroom and David Bowie as Jared the goblin king?”

Boy! seemed to agree, and soon they were huddled together on the couch, the movie flickering on the screen. Coral squealed in joy every time Bowie, or Jared, appeared in his fabulous outfits, and hugged Boy! extra tight in the emotional moments. Yet she couldn’t help but feel tired, she hadn’t taken a good enough rest after getting home. As the movie ended, Boy! and Coral lied down together on the couch to cuddle, and Coral fell asleep with her darling boyfriend in a light embrace.

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

When he woke, Coral groggily reached for her laptop, Rey. It was late, but too early to go to bed, especially considering the nap he just had. Setting Boy! in her lap just in front of Rey, she opened Rey up and pressed their on-button. She smiled as the little light went on, as if greeting her, and the screen soon came to life. She petted the screen and dragged her hands lightly over the keyboard before entering the password. She kissed the top of the screen, and the computer seemed flustered, whirring quietly. Coral looked through her emails, scrolled a bit on Tumblr and cheked her calendar and lists.

“Wanna listen to some music, Rey? I’ll let you choose.” Coral hit the random-button on her music program, and Spiral of Ants started playing.

“Ah, good choice! Just the right mood!”

Coral wrote some work emails and cleaned out her files. Spending time with Rey was both productive and a bonding experience. When she worked, she often forgot that Rey was there, getting absorbed, detached from her body and Rey. But now the work was light enough to really appreachite the feeling of the keyboard against her fingers, the warmth from their body to his thighs, the glow of the screen, the satisfying clicks of the keys. Lemon Demon continued to play, and Coral hummed, feeling that she and her computer girlfriend were singing together. Coral had always felt a deep connection to her computers, and with Rey, it was extra special.

Coral kissed the top of the screen and mumbled them some sweet nothings before getting ready to bed, soon huddled up in his sea of loving plushies.

+

Sevral days later, it was cleaning day in Coral’s home. He changed the sheets, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, vacuumed and mopped. As she lifted the couchins from the couch to vacuum under them, one of her glittering chains peered up at her.

“Oh! Oh no … how long have you been lying here??? ..At least 2 weeks, that was last time I vacuumed under here…” Coral turned off the vacuum and reached for the chain, she saw now it was one of her plastic chain necklaces.

“Baby, I’m so sorry-“ As Coral picked it up, she flinched, and almost dropped it.

It felt … really hostile. Cold, not physically, but in a distant, dismissive way. Coral sat on the floor and cradled it carefully in his hand, poking at it carefully.

“Hey… I, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to, I, you … you’re so tiny, I didn’t realize you were here. Are you … mad at me, are you sad?” Shivers went down her spine, and she felt a strong urge to drop the chain to the floor, as if it burned her with the coldness, as if it wanted to get away from her so badly. Heart pounding, close to tearing up, she clutched it instead.

“I still care about you, I didn’t mean to forget you!” But he had not noticed that it was gone, and Coral was sure it knew that. She didn’t want to put it on, to have it around her neck as if nothing happened.

“I’ll give you some space, yeah?” Negative emotions stirred.

“No? What do you want?” Drop it, drop it, leave it!!

Coral swallowed, he felt horrible. How could he neglect it? They had been together for a year at least, and though it never was her favorite, not even officially her romantic partner, he really liked it, and it was painful to lose that connection. Instead of absorbing her love and sending it back to her, it radiated hurt and resentment.

The chain lay now at the counter by the entrance. Coral told himself it would get better with time, but deep down he knew it was over for them. She’d had to find someone she trusted that she could give it to. Never again would he feel the smooth plastic to her skin, finger the chain in her hands absentmindedly, feel that it was happy to be hers. And it was her fault, he knew that.

She finished cleaning the house, and went to her other chains for comfort, especially her partner Stellar. It was sad to lose a connection, but at least she still had her other beloved objects. She clutched the chains tight and kissed them, hoping he’d never loose them.

[crazymushroomvee]

Always, Forever.

Partially inspired by this song: (though not really)

Tags: fem!reader, comfort, soft Makarov, one-shot, short.

Here you go, Anon!

Russian words translation:

мой ангел - my angle

Вова - Vova [Makarov's nickname]

Да - yes

Спасибо - thank you

You woke up to the sound of a crash. A soft mumble of annoyance could be heard. You groaned softly, feeling a headache take over your senses.

Her eyes shut. Listening to the soft steps approaching the room. A creak interrupted her thoughts.

"Мой ангел..? Are you awake?" He called out as he walked in the room. Refusing to turn on the main light, he turned on the lamp.

She nodded her head and let out a gentle hum in response. She loved loved hearing her husbands voice.

"Вова..." She he softly called out to him. He set something down beside her on the nightstand. Kneeling, he took her hand and squeezed it three times. Their signal for 'I love you'.

"I'm here.. You and me always, forever."

Her eyes fluttered open to look at her husband. Her soft eyes always brought warmth to his heart. His cold demeanour always fades around her. She would always be the only one to hear his laughter.. his true laughter. See his true smiles.

She whined softly as her headache throbbed.

"Oh.. you poor thing.. Do you need more painkillers?" He said as he set the back of his hand against her forehead, checking if she still had a fever.

"Да.. p-please?" She said, sitting herself up slightly.

He softly chuckled at her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're adorable when you beg.." he remarked softly. Reaching into one of the drawers of the nightstand, he got out a small box of pills. A basic all use painkiller.

He handed her one of the pills, taking a glass of water he had brought in and handing it to her. He stroked her hair.

She popped the little pill into her mouth, taking a sip of water to wash it down.

"Спасибо.." She said, seeming to get a little more energised, but not much.

"I made you some soup if you're hungry?" His green and blue eyes looked at her comfortingly.

Her eyes lit up. He almost never cooked, but when he did.. oh boy, was it a treat.

"Yes, please!" She expressed excitedly, with a warm smile. He ruffled her hair. He bent down and got out the foldable table he used for meals in bed. He set it up and placed the soup on it. Chicken noodle soup.. arguably one of the best kinds of soup.

She let out a giddy laugh. She was a bit drowsy and a little bit 'out of it,' so it made sense for her to get very excited over soup.

As she ate it, he watched her with a gentle grin. It almost tasted like heaven. The more she ate, the more she forgot about her pain.

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

The soup, now long gone she had a lazy smile on her face. Everything was cleaned and put away. He sat beside her on the armchair. Reading the newspaper.

As she felt herself succumb to the sweet sucker of sleep, she whispered:

"I love you, Вова.."

"I love you too, мой ангел." He kissed her forehead. He tucked her in and made sure she was comfortable before he made his way out of the room. Softly shutting the door behind him. A satisfied smile on his face.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Okay! I hope that was good enough anon, I'm so sorry it took almost a week to complete I'm just the worst procrastinator. I hope you like it.

Lots of love,

-Vee <3

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

fallout (pt. 6)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: hi hi guys!! im so sorry for not posting..i haven't been feeling very motivated lately :( i hope yall dm

The night crept in slowly, the tent illuminated only by the dim glow of a few hanging lamps. You sat on a foldable chair, staring blankly at a clipboard in your hands. The data on it might as well have been a foreign language—numbers, levels, and technical jargon that didn’t feel real.

Chan stood across from you, leaning heavily on the table. His hand lingered near his temple again, fingers grazing over the patch of thinning hair. He hadn’t mentioned it since earlier, but you knew it was weighing on him.

“Chan,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He didn’t look up. “What is it?”

“You need to rest.”

His laugh was humorless. “You think I can rest right now? With everything falling apart?”

You rose from your chair, placing the clipboard down. “You won’t be able to fix anything if you push yourself past your limit.”

He straightened, meeting your gaze with a flicker of defiance. “What’s the alternative? Sit back and hope everything magically resolves itself? People are counting on us.”

“And what happens when they don’t have you to count on anymore?” you snapped. The words were sharper than you intended, and you instantly regretted them.

Chan’s expression softened just enough to reveal the exhaustion beneath. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but it sounded more like a plea than a statement.

Before you could respond, Hyunjin stormed into the tent, his face pale and his eyes wild. “You need to come now,” he said breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asked, appearing behind him.

“It’s Minho,” Hyunjin said, his voice tight. “He’s—just come.”

The medical tent was eerily quiet when you arrived, save for the steady beeping of monitors. Minho lay motionless on the cot, his skin alarmingly pale under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“He’s stable for now,” one of the medics explained, but the look on her face didn’t inspire confidence.

Chan hovered at the edge of the cot, his hand resting on the rail. “Stable isn’t good enough,” he said quietly.

“We’re doing everything we can,” the medic assured him before stepping away.

Minho stirred faintly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at you, then Chan, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite his condition. “You guys... look terrible.”

Chan huffed out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sigh. “Speak for yourself.”

“Don’t... let this break you,” Minho murmured, his voice barely audible.

Chan’s grip on the rail tightened, his knuckles white. “We won’t.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on Chan’s arm. The weight of everything felt unbearable, but Minho’s words rang in your ears. Don’t let this break you.

Back in the command tent, the atmosphere was heavier than ever. Hyunjin and Felix were locked in a heated discussion over the latest reports, while you and Chan sat silently at the table.

Felix finally turned to you both, his expression grim. “We need to act now. If we don’t contain the problem, it’s going to spiral out of control.”

Chan nodded, his resolve hardening. “Then we move fast. No more delays, no more waiting for answers. We take control.”

The others nodded in agreement, but as you glanced at Chan, the patch of thinning hair caught your eye again. He was pushing himself too hard, and it was starting to show.

But there was no time to stop. Not now.

The command tent buzzed with urgency as everyone moved with purpose, each person playing their part in the delicate dance of containment. You felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on you, but there was no room for doubt or hesitation—not now.

Chan stood beside you, his usual composure wavering. He was directing the placement of new barriers, his voice steady despite the exhaustion etched into his features. But you couldn't ignore the subtle signs of his deteriorating condition—the thinning hair, the way his hands trembled slightly when he handled the equipment.

“Everything’s holding for now,” Felix reported, his eyes scanning the monitors intently. “But we need to reinforce Sector B immediately. The readings there are spiking.”

“Understood,” Chan replied, moving to relay the orders. You watched him closely, noticing the pale circles under his eyes and the way his breaths came a bit too shallow.

As the hours dragged on, you began to feel an unusual weariness settle over you. At first, it was just a lingering fatigue, but now your vision felt slightly blurred, and a persistent headache throbbed behind your temples. You reached up, touching your own hairline, and froze. A few strands had already begun to fall out, landing softly on your sleeve.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts. He was standing beside you, his hand lightly resting on your shoulder.

You tried to smile, though your strength felt waning. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes filled with concern. “You sure? You look like you’re not feeling well.”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin rushed in, his face flushed with urgency. “We’ve got a breach in Sector C. Radiation levels are rising rapidly.”

Chan didn’t hesitate. “Let’s move.” He grabbed your arm gently but firmly. “Stay close.”

As you followed him through the labyrinth of corridors, your vision continued to dim, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm you. Every step felt heavier than the last, but Chan’s presence was a anchor, keeping you grounded amidst the chaos.

When you reached Sector C, the scene was tense. Workers were scrambling to set up additional shields, their movements frantic. Chan took command effortlessly, barking out instructions while you struggled to keep up, your body betraying you with each passing minute.

“Y/N, assist Felix with the reinforcement here,” Chan directed, his voice unwavering despite the strain. You nodded, pushing through the haze to help secure the barriers. Your hands shook as you worked, the reality of your situation sinking in.

As the final panel clicked into place, a sudden surge of radiation washed over you, intensifying your symptoms. You staggered, clutching Chan’s arm for support. He didn’t hesitate, guiding you to a nearby bench and helping you sit down.

“Take deep breaths,” he instructed, his own face pale but determined. “We need to stay focused.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the room seemed to spin around you. The weight of what was happening pressed down on both of you, the line between personal struggle and collective mission blurring.

“Chan...” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What if we can’t hold them off?”

He turned to face you, his eyes reflecting a mix of fear and resolve. “We have to believe we can. For ourselves, for everyone counting on us.”

In that moment, the bond between you felt unbreakable, even as both of you faced the invisible threat that was slowly taking its toll. The containment efforts were relentless, but so was your determination to survive together.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Agency P2

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 1428

I took my suitcases in hand and approached the stoop of the Brooklynn townhouse, Benny shut the door of the beetle and came up behind me, 

"Down here." he said as he headed down the stairwell to a lower apartment, 

"oh..." I was taken back but I followed a little sheepish, 

I walked down after him being careful on the dark stairs, before he headed down a second set so I continued to follow even if the place seemed dirty and smelt like odd socks. He unlocked a tall metal door and headed inside so I quickly went inside. 

"... oh." simply fell from my mouth as I saw the place, 

It was a basement, the door behind me,  a wall to my left with a few backlight switches and a hook where he hung up his jacket and hat, a railing to my right, a shelf of books just down the stairs, A door beside the shelf open that lead to a water closet, the apartment had maybe three lights hung overhead, one over the small kitchen that had perhaps four cabinets and an old battered fridge, a small lamp over the stovetop, one over the table where a vase with some white roses sat, and one above a small living space with no sofa just a pile of pillows on the floor, an old ratted rug, a small foldable coffee table covered in magazines, another two bookshelves filled with books, a round leather ottoman and a matching leather chair, a lamp beside it as well as a lighter stand beside a well-used record player. The furthest wall had a small desk with a stool by a wall of clippings and pictures, the back wall was just plane brick with a few trophies on a ledge, I was shocked to see the shower and bath sitting in the corner beside the fridge with a sink and mirror between the shower and the chair, An interior window and frosted glass door lead to the bedroom where the bed was made up.

I slowly walked down and did my best not to react as my face would give me away, Benny headed through fixing his hair and tidying the coffee table a little pushing the magazines into a pile.

My eyes for a moment caught the glimmer of the knife still on his belt, and one single thought ran through my mind.

'Oh god... He's gonna kill me. He has a knife. this is the basement of a serial killer. I am gonna be freaking skinned and made into soup!' 

"It's not much but... it's home," He said, 

"Mhm," I nodded, 

"What do you think?" he asked, 

I thought for a moment before squeezing on the handle of my suitcase and forcing out some words, "It... is... cosy."

he chuckled, "Yeah, that's uhhh one way to put it," he nodded, "Here let me," He took the cases from my hands and tossed them on the bed, "Did you fancy a coffee?"

"Ohh uhh yes please," I nodded,

"Alright, take a seat and make yourself cosy," he smiled indicating to the rest of the apartment, 

I nodded so he headed to the kitchen, I gulped but slowly headed deeper into the apartment, I smoothed my dress under me as I took a seat on the leather chair, having to put my feet to the side as the chair was so low. I looked around a little and caught my eyes on the box of records beside the player, so I flicked through them a little seeing the sort of music he had. "You mind I put some music on?"

"Oh no go ahead, you take cream or sugar in your coffee?" 

"Both, in decent helpings please."

"Hu, I'm a black coffee myself." he said, "I should have creamer in here..." he opened his fridge and I saw it was pretty empty with only some milk, some creamer, some cheese and a very battered pad of butter. "Ahh I do, and it... is in date that's surprising," 

I did chuckled a little until I found an album I liked so I took it from the dust cover and the cardboard sleeve sat it on the player and dropped the needle down to soon enough hear Waterloo Sunset by the Kinks playing from it,

"Ooohh good choice," he chuckled as he brought me over my coffee in a paper takeaway cup,

"Thank you," I nodded taking a tender sip, 

"You're welcome," He smiled sitting his on the table, he brought the Otterman over and took a seat on it.

For a while we each just sat sipping our coffee, luckily the music filled the quiet air. Until he broke it,

"So?"

"So..."

"I suppose we both have... a lot of questions," 

"I'm sure we do," I nodded, "One each?"

"One each," he nodded, "So, why did you sign up for the agency?"

"Loaded the first question," I blushed a little, "Uhh well... I uhh I had been unsuccessful for many, many years and frankly, I just got tired of trial and error, just sort of wanted to have an understanding of intentions." I explained, "Plus my parents... not so subtly pushed me," 

He chuckled, "Yeah, I get that. kinda the same reason I did. No dating, not messing around just straight to the point," He nodded, "You're turn,"

"Uhh well... why is there a window into your bedroom?"

He laughed, "I don't actually know, I promise I'm not a weirdo." He says, 

"You do seem relatively... normal,"

"Normal? My god I'm hurt." he joked, 

"Sorry," I laughed,

"It's alright, I'm sure normal is a compliment to most people,"

"I meant it as one," I nodded, "You're turn,"

"Ughh well... this is my kinda, first run with the agency, have you been with them long?"

"A couple of years, a couple of false starts but uhh..." I coughed as I didn't want to finish the sentence,

"I won't ask," he nodded, "That's your business,"

"Why do you carry the knife?"

"Ohh... this is for protection," he rested his hand on his hip, 

"From?"

"From whatever. Better to be safe than sorry." He smiled, "What do you do?"

"Ohh professional homemaker as of the moment,"

"makes sense," he nodded, "your turn,"

"what do you do?"

"Ohh," He smiled and picked up a magazine from the table and handed it over to me it was a magazine called 'Chess Review' and his photo was on the cover, "I play chess, professionally. Currently, US champion aiming for grandmaster and world champion down the road, Also wrote a chess book so that helps with the finances."

"They mentioned you were big into chess," I chuckled setting the magazine down, 

"Yeah, I figured they would," he chuckled, 

"I tried to dress accordingly," I looked down at myself,

"Well you look very beautiful," He smiled as he moved a little closer and rested his hand on my own, I blushed as our eyes met, "Sorry I-" he went to move back but I took his hand again and he smiled, 

"You're turn," I smiled,

"I know is early, we uhh haven't really known each other that long and this is a pretty BIG decision but can I ask... if you like me? At least the initial introduction of me?" 

I blushed but he was right we hadn't known each other very long, but we only had a week to make up our minds if we wanted to call this all off or if we wanted to go through with it so really we both knew our intentions, and we knew the clock was ticking on this decision, "I admit, I do like you benny, you seem very nice, and handsome and I'd really like to spend more time with you,"

He smiled, "Yeah I feel the same way too, I think this could maybe work out between us?"

"I think its possible,"

"Well... I'm happy to take a gamble Y/n," He chuckled, "Oh- shit-" He got up ran a hand through his hair, "I completely forgot," He muttered as he went to the table, he picked up the small vase with the white roses and brought it over, "I uhh I got these for you," 

"Awww thank you," I smiled happily taking the vase and giving the roses a smell, they smell so sweet and fresh, "You didn't have to do that Benny,"

"Well I wanted to get you something, and I thought it might make the place seem a bit more... cosy for you for this week," 

"Well thank you very much Benny that's very kind of you," I smiled giving his cheek a kiss, 

"You're welcome Y/n," he blushed a little, "I did book us somewhere tonight... for dinner? if you wanted too?"

"I'd like that," 

[mortiz888-blog]

Inflatable Solar Light LED Solar Powered Foldable Light Outdoor Garden Yard Emergency Solar Road Lamp

[roseshewrites]

A Golden Piece Of You (Slowburn Radio Apple)

Chapter 5: A Casual Crush

Gumbo is a cat, (sort of?) and cats like being in boxes. There weren't PetSmart type stores everywhere in hell, but Lucifer perused a few.

Self-cleaning? Maybe.

Foldable? Portable? A gilded, velvet lined combination cat potty and scratcher with a bunk bed? No. Too fancy.

There was also one that flushed, but Lucifer passed that one down too, despite marveling a little at its ingenuity; the sight of it actually had him chuckling. He nearly bought one just for display because it was actually kinda cute, but eventually just admired it and left the store.

Lucifer finally snatched up the cheapest plastic box he could find at a nearby grocery, paid ten dollars for it, and marched back to the hotel, determined to get his latest forced proximity with radio jerk out of the way.

On his way to Alastor's room, he passed by the fated cat who stared him down with a wide grin just as unnerving as its owner's.

"You're gonna use this," he held up the box, "And you're gonna like it. No more pissing on peoples boots. Got it? Kapeesh?"

It purred at him deeply, eyes glinting, the beginnings of a demonic growl sputtering in its weird throat.

"Don't take that tone with me."

It hissed softly.

He looked up and down the empty hallway, abjectly relieved nobody was having a peep at the king of hell verbally sparring with a demon cat.

Steeling his nerves, he knocked on Alastor's door, gritting his teeth.

Get it over with, Lucifer. Just hand over the box and leave. Don't let him get under your skin. Don't let him start a fight.

Don't let him..

The door swung open, letting out with it the sight of the radio demon in his pink shirt and suspenders slightly askew, his hair bobbed into a small ponytail, accompanied with the faint warble of old jazz tunes behind him, and  something that smelled like cologne.

Alastor was in such a relaxed state it seemed almost intimate just observing him.

His cheeks heated up.

Oh, holy Mother.

"I got your box," he said dumbly. "Sorry to intrude."

"My box," Alastor repeated, leaning on his doorway, seeming amused, "And no. By all means. I wouldn't turn down a visit from our very own esteemed King! It would be bad manners! Do come in."

He turned, adjusting his suspenders with a neat snap.

Gumbo went first, trilling loudly past Lucifer's boots and dashed off to the Louisiana bayou section of the room where it promptly began scratching the shit out of a tree.

Lucifer hadn't meant to come into the radio demon's room, nor spend more than about five seconds getting the intention out of the way before skedaddling to his own apple-shaped tower on the opposite end of the hotel.

But now that he was here, it was a bit of a culture clash. Like walking into a portal from the modern era to a velvet and red plush speakeasy lit with low lamps and cascading with unfamiliar scents that were still rather homey. Lavender soap, a hint of cologne, the languid smell of freshly washed hair.

Alastor had obviously just moments ago gotten dressed after a shower.

Not that Lucifer was paying much attention to that.

Not at all.

"Cat got your tongue?" Alastor was watching him in his own unreadable catlike way.

"Course not! Anyway, here," he held out the litter box a little bit uselessly.

"And you didn't think my Gumbo had his own restroom? How both thoughtful, and thoughtless."

"You're welcome. I like the tunes."

He was determined not to let that snippy comment upset him.

"Ah, I always knew the devil liked jazz!"

Lucifer grinned, suddenly more at ease.

"It has its charms. I used to visit up there just for the speakeasies, drink in the night life. People watch."

"Did you ever grow bored with it?"

Alastor set the cheap litterbox into a nearby open closet where Lucifer spied Gumbo's personal restroom.

"Never. I could only ever stay for a small amount of time, you know; I'm technically not supposed to be able to see good in humanity and my curse pulled me back to hell pretty fast the more fun I had, so I had to learn how to appreciate the art and music without getting too happy about it."

He was babbling; letting loose with old as fuck personal stuff. What was wrong with him?

"You found a loophole."

He'd never admitted that to anyone, outside of his wife and child.

"I was determined to."

"It must have been..." A flash of recognition lit Alastor's eyes, "It had to have been difficult, to not be able to fully appreciate what life on earth had to offer."

Somehow or another, Lucifer knew Alastor understood that feeling all too well.

"It was. It is. I, uhh, I better go though. Stuff to do-"

He was still babbling, his mind uninhibited to keep on trucking with this vulnerability streak, keep appreciating the radio demon's scent and posture, and that bit of skin revealed at the open throat of his slightly unbuttoned shirt-

Alastor sat in one plush armchair, crossing one leg over the other. "Well, I won't keep you," he purred, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Lucifer with his mere presence. "See you tomorrow at the group exercise, Applesauce."

"Will you stop calling me that? G'bye," Lucifer said irritably, turning to leave.

He exited, shutting the door behind him, hearing Alastor's faint radio chuckles following him out and  harmonizing musically with the jazz tunes.

Lucifer swore.

He did not need this.

Running a cold shower over his incredibly warm body, he just about beat up the tiles in the bathroom, making incomplete embarrassed noises; of all things- a fucking crush on the radio demon. It had to be a fluke. It had to be, were not his heated skin giving off that faint, perfumey pheremone that signaled the arrival of an attempted bond.

He breathed slowly, reeling it in, getting his thoughts in order as the freezing shower cooled his feverish skin.

Alastor had smelled so good.

Lucifer shuddered, trying not to allow a faint fantasy to bubble into his mind about what that revealed skin at Alastor's throat might taste like if he were to lick or nibble at it; salty, maybe, or-

"NOPE. Uh-uh. We're not doing this one."

He quickly washed off, took care of his period flow and leapt into bed fully naked, groaning. The fact that the sight of Alastor's casually dressed body had been enough to cause his core to actually throb a little bit with neediness killing his ability to sleep, for the time being.

"Fuck," he shoved his face into a pillow.

[topgearlab1]

How to Choose a Camp Lantern: Know Which Is The Best For You

Table of Content

Types of Camping Lanterns

Electric vs. Gas-Powered Lanterns

How to Choose a Camping Lantern

Durability

Weight and Packed Size

Brightness

Battery Life

Simple to Use

Price

Final Words

Types of Camping Lanterns

Electric, fuel-burning, and candle lanterns are the three basic lanterns. Each variety has its function and benefits, so understanding the differences can help you limit the plethora of possibilities accessible.

Electric Lanterns

Almost all electric lanterns run on batteries and use LED, which stands for light-emitting diode.

These lanterns were made to be better than the original gas-powered lantern. They have a brighter light, last longer, make less noise, and give off less exhaust than the gas-powered lantern they replaced. Electric lanterns are safer to use near children and animals since they produce no heat.

Fuel-Burning Lanterns

The most traditional camping light is a fuel-burning lantern, and many seasoned campers still swear by them today. They can be powered by liquid fuel, propane, and butane, among other things.

The best thing about lanterns that use fuel is that they light a lot. When you require to light up a campsite, a gas-powered lantern is the only way. They’re also better for camping in cold weather or in a car, where weight and size don’t matter.

Fuel-burning lanterns have many problems that have led many campers to choose more modern electric lanterns instead. Aside from being big and heavy, these lanterns give off toxic fumes that make them very dangerous to use in tents or other small places without enough ventilation. Since fuel-burning lanterns also give off a lot of heat, we shouldn’t use them near children or things that can catch fire.

Candle Lanterns

Even though many people think candle lanterns are old-fashioned, they still have benefits that other lanterns don’t have. Candle lanterns get their light from a candle placed inside the lantern.

These lanterns give off a soft, quiet light that is perfect for close-up work or giving your campsite a nice atmosphere. Still, they don’t give off much light, and they have the same risks as fuel-burning lanterns in that they produce a lot of heat that could be dangerous.

Electric vs. Gas-Powered Lanterns

What qualities you like will ultimately determine whether you choose an electric light or a gas lantern. Electric lanterns are safe to use inside a tent because they are quiet, light, and not dangerous.

But when the temperature drops below freezing, alkaline batteries lose about half of their power, and rechargeable batteries may only last for a day if they are charged.

Gas-powered lanterns are brilliant, have a long burn duration, and perform well in sub-freezing conditions. The runtime decreases somewhat when using alkaline batteries, but only a little. Because they use a real flame, they are hot to the touch, can’t be used near things that can catch fire, and need to be in an open area. Also, they are not as strong as electric lanterns.

How to Choose a Camping Lantern

Durability

The most crucial element to consider when shopping for a camping lantern is its durability—the more robust, the better. The longevity of camping lamps varies greatly. Some last a week and quickly shatter, while others provide years of illumination.

It is difficult to determine if a lantern is a good quality and long-lasting. You could spend a lot of money on many features of an item, but that specific lamp might not last very long. As a result, it is critical to determine which goods will survive for years and which will not.

Weight and Packed Size

Think about how you will use the lantern. For camping in a car, weight and size won’t be a problem. But if you want to bring your lantern into the woods, you’ll need something lighter that doesn’t take up a lot of space. Look for a small or foldable lantern if you’re going backpacking.

Many lanterns for backpacking are also light, so it should be easy to find one that weighs less than half a pound. Quite a few of the things on this list fit into those groups.

Brightness

A camping lantern’s primary purpose is to give off enough light, and different lanterns have different brightness levels. The amount of light a lantern gives off is measured in lumens. More lumens means a brighter, stronger light.

But a higher maximum light output usually means less efficiency and shorter battery life or time burning. Most campers don’t need more than 100 to 200 lumens, but bigger groups might need up to 400 lumens.

While fuel-powered lighters flash the brightest, many electric lanterns function just as well without catching fire or releasing dangerous gases.

Battery Life

If you choose an electric lantern, consider battery longevity, particularly if you plan to remain in the woods for many days or longer. On high, many lanterns will last 5–10 hours, but on low, they will last longer.

If your lantern utilizes disposable batteries, bring additional batteries with you on your vacation. If your lantern has a battery that you can charge, bring a portable battery or solar charger to keep it charged between uses.

Simple to Use

Most of the time, electric lanterns are the easiest to use. They can be turned on by pressing a button, and the brightness is easily changed. Putting the fuel canister in the lantern and lighting the wick takes a little more work.

Price

When selecting a camping light, price is an important consideration. We generally consider the price first, then the lantern, but the camping light must be reasonable while performing its functions. Most people will only use their camping lights a few times during summer. Therefore, spending a lot of money on goods, we will not use often is unnecessary.

We have more useful things to do with our money. Fortunately, thanks to competition and internet retailers, camping lights are now more affordable than ever and provide even more functionality.

Final Words

Finally, you should weigh all the benefits and drawbacks of each kind of lantern to choose which is ideal for you/ How to Choose a Camping Lantern? Fortunately, there are several types to pick from, and one will undoubtedly suit your requirements.

[e-carlease]

Ford Puma Electric Car Leasing

The Puma EV will be launching in two specifications including:

Select - from £29,995 the standard model will include 17” alloys, LED projector lights with day time running function, wireless charging pad, power start button, quickclear front windscreen, rear view camera, rear parking sensors, cruise control, 12.8” instrument cluster, 12” touchscreen display, driver lumbar support, pre-collision assist, lane keeping aid and lane departure warning; and    

Premium -  from £31,995 the upgraded model will include add 18” alloy, Matrix LED lights, LED rear lamps, power-foldable heated door mirrors with puddle lights, front scuff plates, 12” touchscreen display, B&O audio system, keyless entry and power lift tailgate.  

But how does the electric Puma perform? 

with a usable battery of 43.6 kWh which offers 215 kW (225hp), top speeds of 99 mph and 0-62 times of 8.0 seconds. Real-world ranges suggest a combined 145 miles in colder weather with warmer temperatures to allow for 200 miles (on a full charge) - 170 miles combined . The 11kW AC allows for 0-100% charging times of 4 hour and 45 minutes with the 100 kW DC enabling 10-80% in 23 minutes. The Ford SUV has no Bidirectional charging. It has a 158 mpg equivalent, 523L cargo volume and offers towing capacities of 750kg (unbraked) and 750kg g (braked). The heat pump is not available with the Puma.

[hopefullyitsextensivebule]

When The Lake Thawed Out: Chapter 5

Summary: In 1993, a young man goes missing near a lake in his hometown; the town heartbroken and having lost a spark in their lives. Now, after 30 years of unanswered questions, he comes home in one of the most intense heatwaves to ever hit the town of Little Franconia, seeing that things are the same and different. In this tale of discovery and family, watch as Joshua relearns the world around him and adjusts to the nuances of pop culture, technology, and generational rot.

Writer’s Whining: N/A

Warning(s): Angst.

Word Count: 2K+

@List: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @asparrowofthedawn@obetrolncocktails, @fallonfatality, @wetkleenex-gvf, @takenbythemadness, @heatsaboves @joshym, @freyjalw, @gvf23 @basiccortez @alwaysonthemend @losfacedevil@puzzle-gvf@sinsofstardust@glorpa@nessie-glorpa @myownparadise96

The night was silent and calm, a rare occurrence in the Kiszka household. Sam lay comfortably in his bed, hugging his pillow and hair splayed on it as if he were in a deep slumber. Jamie was in his bed, arms crossed under his head as he fell asleep in that position from jamming to music hours earlier.

Jacob was in bed, his leg propped up on a pillow and his arms on his stomach. He snored slightly, eyelids shut and eyeballs roaming underneath as if in search of something. That level of comfort would never be the same again.

His phone had rung from the nightstand, Jacob grunting and stirring in his sleep as his hand tried to search for his phone. With laziness, he picked his phone up and propped it on the pillow and answered. “Who is it?”

The voice on the phone had sounded panicked and excitable, to which Jacob had struggled to sit up on the bed and rubbed his eyes. “Wai-slow down, Daniel,” he says, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “what do you mean…”

Within minutes, the sounds of clothes being found and hastily put on ensued. His shoes weren’t tied, but they were on to get to where he needed to be. He had dropped a lamp, the bulb breaking, to which Jake cursed himself and swept the mishap under the bed. The door soon opened to see a tired Sammy rubbing his eyes. “Dad, is everything okay?”

Jake halted his erratic behavior and spoke. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Wagner needs me to do something,” he said, putting his hair in a low ponytail. 

“Is it about Danny? Is he okay?” he asked, concerned. 

“No no no, don’t worry, go back to sleep,” Jake said to him, getting his things and stepping out the room. Sam saw the broken lampshade and how tired and frazzled his father was. Sam went back into the room and started to get dressed himself.

Jake was about to exit the house. His youngest was right behind him, “Sammy, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you; you’re too frazzled and can’t drive in the dark,” he said. Jake had groaned in frustration and had go in the passenger seat, Sam driving to the Wagner’s house. Jake was pensive as Sam drove, his eyes fixated outside and his fingers tapping on the door hand of the car. When Sam drove in front of the house, Jake trying to open the car door, but it was not yet able to yet. Sam unlocked the door, Jake jumping out the car, and limping, realizing that he did not have his cane. Sam had reached behind the passenger seat in the netted pouch and grabbed his father’s foldable cane, and brought it out to give it to him.

Jake banged on the door urgently, knocking on it. Sam had to calm him down. The door opened easily, Mrs. Wagner opening it. She had an arm full of clothes that needed washing. “Jake-” she said. 

“W-Where is he!” he said urgently, Mrs. Wagner taking him into the house along with Sam.

“Jacob, he's fine,,” Mrs. Wagner states, “but please, he looks out of it.”

Jake looked at the woman and then headed to the bedroom. “Mrs. Wagner… what’s going on?” Sam asked her, Mrs. Wagner’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s… complicated,” she told her. 

“Where’s Danny?” he asked.

“In the basement, finding some old clothes,” she answered.

Mr. Daniel Wagner was in the guest bedroom, where he had a pitcher of cold water and a glass filled already. He looked at the young male, seeing how tired and worn he looked. The father of one himself had wet eyes, knowing how much this would have meant to his friend. The door opened behind him, a nervous Jake standing at the door's threshold.

“Is it him?” Jake asked. 

Mr. Wagner had moved out of the way so that Jake could get close to him. Jake had taken a shakey breath of air, the lump in his throat large as he saw him. He had sat on a chair and had scooted close, taking the male’s hand in his and rubbing it. His hands were identical to his… but they were not aged like his. His knuckles and his palm were soft and feathery.

He stirred in the bed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clamping shut. “… mm”

Jake held his breath, waiting for him to say something to him. The older male had gone to touch his forehead, feeling how warm he was. “Say something…”

Chestnut eyes greeted the world, a bit dull but still had so much life in them. He scanned the room to see where he was, wondering how he ended up here. He soon met the other’s, his eyes filling up with a light of relief.

“Jakey…” he called him, a faint but overt smile on his face. Jacob soon hugged the male tightly, the other weakly hugging him and rubbing his back. Sobs left Jake as he was finally reunited with him. He was reunited with his twin. 

Josh.

Mr. Wagner had rubbed his eyes, trying to compose himself as well. Mrs. Wagner came with the old clothes. She saw the reunion and felt tears sitting on the brims of her eyes. Jake had pulled away, looking at Josh’s face. “You… haven’t aged… how’s this possible.”

“Jake, he’s tired,” Mr. Wagner said, his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Can I stay the night?” Jake asked, “please…”

“Of course, you can,” Mr. Wagner allowed, rubbing his back. Sam and Daniel looked at each other briefly before looking at the scene before them.

⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹⟹

After some time had passed, Daniel and Sam sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea for each of them. “How did he even find your house?” Sam asked him. 

“We never moved from here. This house was my dad’s growing up, so I guess he thought my dad was still here…” Daniel said, “it was so weird, seeing him though. He was out of it, but he thought I was my dad’…”

“You and your dad do look alike,” Sam said, “I’ve seen photos of him when he was a kid, you guys are twins.”

Daniel chuckled and rolled the cup of tea between his palms pensively, “still. Seeing your dad’s twin alive just like he was when he… you know. It has to be pretty weird. I mean, technically, that’s your uncle.”

“That is… if he is related to us,” Sam said, “I just find it weird. Like what if he’s one of those scammers for missing or dead family members and he’s just here to get money from us. Scammer do all that research just to get a couple bucks.”

“Well, he must be really good at memorizing things because when he was talking to mom. He told a whole story about how my dad and yours were in band class, and that your dad only was in band class to get with the ladies,” Daniel had chuckled. “My dad hadn’t laughed like that in ages,” he said to him. 

“Dad can finally be at peace now. This had eaten him up a lot since forever,” Sam emphasized. Sam had a good idea of who his uncle was; Jake described him as if he had seen him yesterday. It would be anything that reminds Jake of him. Jamie would grow tired over the course of the years, but Sammy listened.

Mr. and Mrs. Wagner had walked down the stairs, Mr. Wagner speaking to the boys. “Your dad is going to stay here for tonight. Daniel, if you can get the airbed from the basement that’ll be just great,” he said, Daniel starting to move.

“Oh, Mr. Wagner, that’s not necessary,” Sam pleaded, “I have to go back home; Jamie is still there; he doesn’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well… in that case,” Mr. Wagner said, looking at his son. “Danny, can you stay with the boys at their place tonight?”

“Sure,” Danny said, having rushed up his room to get his things.

“Let me text Jamie at least,” Sam said, getting his phone out and beginning to text Jamie, being left on sent. Danny had taken his father’s car and taken Sam back to the house, Sam’s face laced with worry. Daniel tried his best to lighten the mood, Sam smiling a little, but it faded. 

They had returned to the house, Sam and Danny heading up to the Kiszka’s room. The small lamp had turned on, but Danny was able to see the room. It was decorated with different jazz artist posters and other little trinkets. Danny found a photo of the two of them from when they were younger, picking it up and seeing their preteen faces.

Sam had grabbed some blankets and placed them on the bed when he saw Danny smiling at him. “That was so long ago… wasn’t it.”

“Yeah,” the other said, fingertips touching the picture, “let’s go to bed…”

“Literally just thinking that…” Sam agreed. Daniel had gotten into his pajamas and had entered Sam’s bed. Sam did the same but the opposite end. They fell quiet and eventually fell asleep.