#Continental breakfast is only just beginning

[itscontinental]

And all that red, it reads:

"Here is a thing yet unbelonging

And here is a passage of time: To Be,

To Be young,

and to forfeit its youth.

Go ahead and take the thing

lest it be lonely

It already belongs to you"

Although,

we wrote that two years after

We wrote "Here Is a Thing That Belongs to You" which

We wrote A few days after

we wrote "Psychobabble" and a few minutes before

We wrote "take the thing and say thank you"

A thing which we actually are

(belonging, you know, to you know who)

So we'd be the ones to know, you know?

That we were never "unbelonging" and

the latter (not later) to be the truth .

and here is the passage of time (two years, not "to be young")

Between "psychobabble" and "that belongs" (that grew)

And "that belongs" and "the passage of time" (that spoiled)

Which all,

by right,

belong to you.

Which we present

...AGAIN,

As we apologize

...AGAIN

as we wait (as we must wait,

as our hands are tied)

For something new.

[pathologicalreid]

the build up | s.r.

in which you and Spencer spend an entire day just waiting to make it to the hotel room

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: reader is fine she's probably just ovulating, fingering, protected p in v sex, spencer does the post-coital pick up clean up, heavy petting (in the beginning), jealousy, kind of one bed trope?, spencer does math so he doesn't come too fast, not very edited, some case details and the case mentions drug use, hotch is a cockblock, spencer's tie is a cockblock word count: 4.23k a/n: okay we are so back thank you for letting me take a day

It starts first thing in the morning.

You and Spencer didn’t need to find your way to the hotel lobby until eight, so once you were both ready to go, the fact that it was only six-thirty took you by surprise. The two of you had been the first to make your way back to the hotel last night, immediately falling asleep once your heads hit the pillows.

As far as hotels went, this one wasn’t so bad. The hot water lasted long enough to get the both of you through the shower, and the promise of a continental breakfast always gave you something to look forward to. It was by pure luck that the hotel just barely had enough rooms for the team—contingent on one pair sharing a king bed.

Hotch had begrudgingly handed you the key cards, letting you know that HR could never find out that he allowed this.

Though, with the home Spencer’s hands had found on your waist, you couldn’t care less what HR had to say about it.

Very slowly, you grind your hips into Spencer’s, sparing a moment to smile against his lips. He had pulled you onto the bed while you were in the middle of getting dressed, electing to take advantage of your room assignment while you still could.

“Spence,” you whisper, your voice gentle in the dim light of dawn.

His hands were firmly set on your waist, you felt the callus on his finger that had been left by his gun, the coarseness of his hand in direct juxtaposition with the soft skin on your torso. Carefully, his thumb sweeps over the band of your bra, wanting to undo your half-adorned outfit.

With your knees on either side of him, you settle onto him, the chiffon of your blouse fluttering onto his bare chest.

Your phone going off is the most unwelcome sound, the LED screen flashing as the phone call comes through. Remaining at your perch, you reach over to the nightstand, unplug your phone, and answer the call, “Hey, Hotch.”

Recognition and a little disappointment dawn on Spencer’s face, his hands dropping to your hips.

“Are you able to be ready in fifteen minutes? There was another killing overnight, and I’d like to get a look at the crime scene while it’s still fresh,” your unit chief asks over the phone, and you find yourself thankful that he hadn’t knocked on your door.

Pressing your lips together, you nod even though he can’t see you, “Yeah,” you sigh, “We’ll be right out.”

The third body makes this the third dumpsite, the magic number that gives Spencer all of the starting points he needs to make headway on a geographic profile. He’ll be directed to the police precinct while you go to the crime scene with other team members.

Groaning, you melodramatically fall sideways onto the mattress, letting your hair fan out on the starchy white sheets of the hotel bed. “We have to go,” you announce mournfully, recognizing just how wrong it is to bury your sexual frustrations while you mentally prepare to spend your day hunting a serial killer.

In your defense, it has been a while.

Spencer gets up before you do, carefully doing up each button of his dress shirt, the plastic buttons sliding through eyelets as he does so. Against your better judgment, you pull yourself to a sitting position in bed, doing up the buttons of your own shirt with considerably less poise before standing and adjusting your pants.

Begrudgingly fully clothed, you step up to Spencer, pulling him closer to you by the fabric of his silk tie. Taking the bottom tail of his tie and pushing the double Windsor knot closer to the hollow of his throat, ignoring your impure thoughts as he hooks his fingers in the belt loops of your dress pants.

Tenderly, Spencer drops a soft kiss on your hairline, “Do you have everything?”

You nod, stepping up on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Yeah, let’s go.”

You’re about ready to sing Emily’s praises when she lifts up two cups of coffee in the air for the two of you to take, you gleefully accept one and take a sip while Spencer takes the other one. Preparing for the burnt sludge you can usually find at a hotel; you cringe when what you find in the cup is almost painfully sweet.

Reaching out your hand for the cup in Spencer’s hand, you shake your head at him, “No way, trade,” you prompt, swapping paper cups with him while he looks at you curiously, “You won’t like that one.”

He lets you trade out the cups without a debate, carefully maneuvering the cups so that you don’t get burnt by the hot coffee. Now you have your proper sludge, bitter to the tongue is better than the sugar rush you would have gotten. Part of you thinks you might be totally desensitized to the taste of burnt coffee, as that’s what you usually find in police precincts, but when you take the first sip of your coffee, you’re immediately proven wrong. Next to you, Spencer chuckles at the distaste that’s sure to be written all over your face.

Trying to ignore the way Spencer is one-handedly adjusting his satchel in front of his crotch, you stare straight ahead to where JJ and Morgan are emerging from the other hallway, “So, what do we know?”

“Similar victimology, about two miles from the last dumpsite,” Prentiss responds, taking a swig of her own coffee, “Hotch and Rossi are bringing the cars around.” She frowns at you slightly, eyeing your appearance as if she knows something you don’t.

Before you can ask, she leans in closely to you, her dark hair brushing your shoulder as she whispers, “The buttons on your shirt are done up wrong.”

Your face warms, eyes widening as she pulls away from you, “I just… got ready in a hurry this morning.”

“I’m sure you did,” she jests, raising her eyebrows as she looks out the door.

Handing your coffee off to Spencer, you reach down to undo the last few buttons of your shirt, grateful that the hotel lobby was empty while you fixed yourself up. “Thanks,” you breathe, taking your coffee back from Spencer before looking down at the redone buttons, just making sure they’re properly done now.

At least you had an easy fix, a quick glance at Spencer’s bag placement tells you he’s having a much harder time hiding the evidence of this morning from your teammates.

Being separated from Spencer allows you to focus all of your energy on the case at hand instead of drifting away to your morning, but as soon as you see him in the conference room, your resolve falters.

While he’s leaning over the table in the precinct, your eyes catch on the way he’s shed his jacket, pushing his sleeves up over his forearms in a way that makes your cheeks heat up. You take a quick detour to the kitchenette and get a glass of water from the jug, hoping to cool yourself off from the inside out.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from behind you, his voice is low as he gently sweeps a hand over your back. The movement is soft enough not to raise any local eyebrows about the ethics of your relationship, but it’s enough to send a wave of goosebumps across your body.

Staring at your cup of water like it’s the fountain of youth, you hum in response, “Hi,” you breathe, checking the time on your watch before you close your eyes. “How’s it going?” You ask, nodding your head in the direction of the chaotic whiteboard in the conference room. Whiteboard markers of varying colors and widths are scattered around the table.

“We have a two-mile radius near the neighborhood of Summit Cove, but I’d like to narrow it down. There’s a lot of tree coverage in that area and if the UnSub keeps accelerating his timeline, we won’t be able to cover that much ground before he strikes again.” He explains, either not noticing or not caring about the way one of the local officers is making googly eyes at him.

You keep your eyes on her, but continue your conversation with Spencer, “There’s a reservoir out there too, right? Do you think there could be a connection with the UnSub and the water?”

Thinking about it for a moment, Spencer shakes his head, “It’s not likely. There hasn’t been any indication that water is important to the UnSub so far.”

The two of you share a look, a silent acknowledgment that you couldn’t rule anything out—not in your line of work.

“Are you busy? Maybe a pair of fresh eyes could help narrow down the geo-profile,” he offers, leaning against the laminate counter of the kitchenette.

You hum, “I’m waiting on the toxicology report from our last victim.” Holding out your glass of water to him, you tilt your head to the side, “Will you bring this to the conference room? I’m gonna run to the restroom and I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer nods, taking the cup from your hands, “Are you alright?”

Already making your way to the bathroom, you give a thumbs up behind your back before nearly throwing yourself in the women’s restroom. Pacing around the small space, you take a deep breath, begging to pull yourself together. “You just have to get through this case,” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

This morning was the third consecutive time you and Spencer had been interrupted. Every time either one of you initiates sex, something else comes up. The first time, his mother called, which you weren’t entirely sure you’d ever fully recover from. The second time, the fire alarm had gone off in your building, which was the first instance of that happening in the years you’ve lived there. Then, this morning, Hotch had called.

The universe was being a prude, and you were becoming embarrassingly frustrated.

Biting down a yelp, you jump in surprise when the door swings open. With wide eyes, you watch as Spencer shuts the door and locks it, bringing your attention to the fact that you had forgotten to lock it yourself. “What are you doing?” You ask, hoping no one spared him any mind when he went into the bathroom just moments after you.

“What’s wrong?” He ignores your question, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that makes you want to turn into a puddle. “You’re warm,” he observes, “Are you feeling okay?”

Your head bobs, nervously trying to assure him that for all intents and purposes, you’re okay. “I’m fine,” you whisper, looking into his concerned brown eyes.

His eyebrows lift, and you can tell that he doesn’t believe you. “Well, you’re pacing and talking to yourself in the bathroom of a police precinct, so, deductively, something is going on that you’re not telling me about.”

Groaning, you tilt your head back in an attempt to avoid his gaze, sometimes being a profiler and dating a profiler was a brutal combination. “Shouldn’t you be working on the geo-profile?”

“I’m waiting for the ink to dry on the map,” he expertly maneuvers through your deflection—he’s had years of practice doing it with you. “What’s going on?”

You huff, bringing your head back down and meeting his eyes, “Spencer, I’m horny. I’m like fourteen-year-old boy who’s just seen his first pair of boobs horny. I came in here to talk myself off of a sex ledge and you are not helping to deplete my need to jump your bones.”

One look at him tells you he’s trying his best not to laugh, which would just make you feel more ridiculous. “Angel,” he says seriously, “What is a sex ledge?”

“I don’t know!” You reel yourself in, not wanting to draw attention to the bathroom, “It felt like the right thing to say at the time.”

Spencer chuckles softly, reaching a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ears before gently placing a kiss on your lips. Then another on your cheek before doing the same on the other side of your face.

Contently, you hum at your current predicament, “What-“ he kisses your lips again. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer right away, choosing instead to lock your lips together. Moving them against yours in a way that resembled this morning—it made your heart soar.

Hesitating slightly, you reach your arms up and loop them over his shoulders, kissing him back as you’d been longing to all day.  

“I’m kissing you,” he whispers, kissing your lips again. “Trying to tide you over until the case is over and we get to be alone. Until then, do you want to help me narrow the geographic profile?”

In awe of Spencer’s ability to make you feel normal when you feel absurd, you shrug meekly, “Maybe one more kiss?”

“I’m shocked it was the third victim’s mother,” JJ says from the back of the group, talking about the case. The arrest was made about an hour ago, and the local precinct will be able to build the rest of the case on its own.

You raise your eyebrows, “I’m not. Thinking about the stony expression she had when she went to claim the body, I’m not surprised at all.” You met the UnSub earlier that morning, as it turned out, and the lack of surprise when you told her about the drugs in her daughter’s system made sense to you now.

Hotch checks the time on his watch, “Everyone head inside. We’ll take off with the sunrise tomorrow.”

The team nods in unison, filtering in through the lobby as everyone takes their designated hallways to their rooms, you and Spencer being at the very end of one of those hallways. You were grateful to Hotch for making the executive decision not to leave Colorado tonight, with the three-hour flight taken into account, you wouldn’t make it back to Quantico until nearly midnight.

Spencer swipes his key card in the door, letting you in before walking in behind you. He takes a moment once he’s inside to lock the door and latch the deadbolt, leaving you to walk into the bathroom to use the clean towels that housekeeping had left to wipe your face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on your clothed shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you from behind and burying his face in your neck.

His body was warm against yours, a pleasant change from the cool temperatures outside. Leaving the towel on the bar, you turn around in Spencer’s arms, taking small steps so the two of you don’t get tangled up. Leaning your head back, you smile at him knowingly, “Hi,” you whisper, thrilled to finally be alone with him.

Carefully, the two of you move out of the bathroom, and you find yourself fiddling with the knot of Spencer’s tie, grumbling about how tight it is while trying to wedge your nail between the silk. “You’re the one who tightened it,” Spencer reminds you, making better progress with your blouse.

You roll your eyes instinctively, “I really am my own worst enemy.” You drop your arms, letting Spencer take care of his tie as you unbutton the cuffs of your sleeves and tug the chiffon off.

Taking the tie off, Spencer watches as you kick off your shoes, carefully leaving them at the end of the bed before losing your footing and toppling onto the bed in a heap. He looks over at you, a bright, loving look in his eyes, “Are you alright?”

At this point, he’s asked you that so many times that you’ve lost count, leaving you to reach our hand out and pull him onto the bed with you. You bite down a laugh when he scrambles to catch himself. “You were brilliant today,” you tell him, studying the everchanging glisten of gold in his eyes.

“You were brilliant today,” he responds, shifting so that he’s hovering over you. “You’re brilliant every day,” he reassures you.

Your eyes widen playfully, “Well if we’re getting particular—you are also brilliant every day.” You reach your hand up and thread your fingers in his hair, feeling the silky strands between your fingers, “Are we going to have sex now?”

Spencer chuckles in response, craning his head down to leave a soft kiss on your lips, “Yes, silly girl. If you still want to.”

You nod enthusiastically, “Yes,” you answer, continuing to admire the feeling of his hair between your fingers, the sensation of the heat emanating from his body warms you from above as you take a minute to breathe. “I love you,” you whisper, barely audible.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, matching your volume level.

You consider yourself lucky to be able to work with Spencer every day. There were times when one of you had to call a time-out, and you never had to worry about asking for space. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” you let him know, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

He hums in response, dragging himself up from his place above you and standing up, giving you the freedom to move further up the bed, flopping your head on the pillows and watching him take his undershirt off. Unbuckling your own belt, you wriggle yourself out of your work pants, successfully leaving yourself in a bra and panties.

“C’mere,” you beckon to Spencer, stretching your arm out to him. He takes your hand, that all too familiar callus on his hand touching the one that’s mirrored on your own.

Spencer stops about halfway up your body, resting his hand on your hip and using his thumb to rub small circles on your hipbone, you sigh contentedly at the sensation of finally being touched the way you need.

The butterflies in your stomach don’t come out of hiding until he starts to shuffle your underwear down your legs, pulling them past your knees until you’re able to kick them off on your own. “Thank you for not making me feel bad about what happened in the bathroom,” you murmur down to him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

He knits his eyebrows together when he looks at you, “Why would I make you feel bad? We haven’t had sex in two weeks. I’d be lying to you if I told you it hasn’t been on my mind. You just happened to bring it up first.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips, “It’s a good thing you carry around that bag everywhere, or else we could’ve been in big trouble.” Not necessarily trouble with work, but relentless teasing was always an option.

Thankfully Emily let you off the hook, or else you’d be more concerned with being harassed on the jet tomorrow morning. “Speaking of,” he says, pulling himself back up and heading to his bag, rifling through his belongings before producing a small lavender packet. He sets the condom on the nightstand before finding his place again, “Where were we?”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, peering down at him in awe as his hand slowly makes its way closer and closer to your core. “Just about here,” you breathe, leaning your head back while his index finger breaches your entrance, slowly sliding into you with a tentativeness to reflect how long it really has been.

The wet sounds reverberate through the room, making your cheeks burn even though you’re the only two in the room, “Let me know if it gets to be too much,” Spencer tells you, hoisting himself further up on the mattress. He changes the angle of his finger as he slowly finds a rhythm.

With him right above you, you tilt your head down, hoping he’ll take the hint and come kiss your lips. He does, his head ducking down until your lips touch, he carefully adds a second finger, eliciting a small gasp from your lips, but Spencer just takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Cloaked in a sensual silence, the two of you are finally free to enjoy the company of one another, you extend one arm down, slipping your fingertips in between his stomach and the waistband of his briefs so that you can palm his cock. He moans into your open mouth as you sweep your thumb over the tip of his length, gathering his precum on your fingertip and spreading it over the head.

“Spence,” you gasp, so preoccupied with touching him that you had lost sight of your own pleasure, the way his hand was angled, the heel of his palm barely grazing your clit with every thrust. “Wait, I wanna-“ you take a breath, “I wanna go together.”

He nods in understanding, chuckling as you help him make quick work of his underwear, “Eager,” he observes, reaching around your torso to unclasp your bra.

“Yes,” you affirm, letting the underwire fall from your body, your nipples standing at attention, matching his cock perfectly as he reaches to the nightstand for the condom, tearing the purple packet and pinching the reservoir tip before rolling it over his length with ease.

You let your legs fall open as he finds a place between you, kneeling between your legs before he props himself up above you, your head still spinning as his hand moves between your bodies, positioning his covered cock at your pussy before he eases himself in. He takes it bit by bit, giving both of you time to adjust before he fully sheathes himself inside of you. “Fuck,” he groans in your ear, the curse falling from his mouth in exactly the same way you were thinking it.

One of your hands drops next to your head, and Spencer takes the chance to intertwine your fingers together, your hands interlocked on the bed as he takes a deep breath. Hesitantly, you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Thinking about what we have to get done when we get home tomorrow,” he tells you, dropping his head into the crook of your check.

You laugh breathily, “Right now?”

He drops a soft kiss to your collarbone, “Better than lasting thirty seconds. I haven’t done that in years.”

You hum thoughtfully, “What about last month when— ah.” He expertly cuts you off by withdrawing himself from you, almost leaving you entirely empty before easing himself back in. Apparently, he didn’t want you to bring up the time you caught him trying to hold off an orgasm by doing math.

Poking your head up, you guide Spencer’s head up, his lust-hooded eyes meeting yours when you set your lips on his, soft whines escaping from your mouth as you lock your ankles behind his back, “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, seemingly spurred on by your need to keep him close.

In an act of desperation, you move your hand from his jawline to your clit, rubbing the sensitive spot in time with his thrusts, “Baby,” you breathe, your voice a word of warning as you feel your impending orgasm twist through your abdomen.

“Me too,” he answers, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck, continuing his movements, though they grow messy as he gets closer. “Let go,” he encourages, “Come around me.”

With a whine, you do just that, your toes curling as you reach your peak, your walls pulse around Spencer’s cock as you come, the sensation just hurtling him closer to the same euphoria. “That’s so good,” you say, your ankles coming uncrossed with the movement as Spencer works you through your orgasm.

A choked sound comes from him as his hips stutter, his movements halted by his own orgasm, spilling his cum into the condom as you run your newly free hand down his spine, skimming your fingertips over the ridges as the both of you catch your breath.

Lifting his head, Spencer flips his hair from his eyes, sweat-dampened curls falling in front of his forehead, “Woah,” you breathe, flopping your head back on the pillows, whimpering when he pulls out of you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, carefully taking the filled condom off before speaking again, “I’ll be right back, honey.”

You nod absentmindedly, pulling yourself to a sitting position on the bed, a small puddle of slick beneath you almost made you wish you had a second bed in the hotel room. “Thank you,” you say when Spencer returns with a dampened washcloth.

He shakes his head when you reach your hand out for the cloth, taking it upon himself to clean you up. His gentleness as he takes care of you makes your chest tighten, he catches the way you’re looking at him when he moves to set the washcloth down, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, “Nothing, just… can we cuddle for a little bit?”

Spencer nods immediately, leaving the washcloth on the dirty side of the bed before laying down next to you. You settle your head on his chest, letting your body melt into his.

You know you’re eventually going to have to get up, but right now, you’re just grateful that the world decided to slow down for you two tonight.

[annathesillyfriend]

I'm almost on time this month! Congratulations to me 😅Hope you're all having a great time. May your June be warm, sunny and just so happy 😌

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Also, please, mind the writers’ warnings!

🌼JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO🌼

tastes like stawberries and watermelon sugar by @callsign-joyride

↳ two-shot, 18+, is it hot in here or is it just these fics 🥵

worry, my love by @uselsshuman

↳ one-shot, wife!reader, i'd kill him if he scared me like that but maybe that's just me 😅

bad liar by @inklore

↳ one-shot, 18+, seresin!reader, i am unwell just thinking about this fic, rereading it now made me want to choke myself <3

🌼ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD🌼

chatterbox by @waklman

↳ one-shot, 18+, don't know what's hotter - the gif at the beginning or the fic itself

lovesick by @sebsxphia

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am so normal about this :))))))))))))))))

foggy by @sushiwriterhere

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am so gone for this man it's not even funny anymore

hands by @foreverrandomwritings

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am a simple woman, i see man's hands, i go a little silly

clover club by @ohtobeleah

↳ one-shot, my heart 😭😭😭

happy birthday, mr. president by @rhettabbotts

↳ one-shot, 18+, president!bob x wife!reader, no better way to celebrate a birthday than defiling government property 😌

this fic by @tropes-and-tales

↳ one-shot, 18+, i've read this so many time i almost know every word by heart

team prime by @//tropes-and-tales

↳ series, we love idiots in love <3

the best day of your life by @startrekfangirl2233-writes

↳ one-shot, the only thing more perfect than robert floyd is robert floyd as a dad

killing me softly by @wkndwlff

↳ one-shot, hangman who??? i only know bob <33

🌼BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW🌼

given the circumstances (part 1) by @greenorangevioletgrass

↳ one-shot, 18+, i think we all how what a simp i am for Ava's work by now

feels like by @lovableapocalypse

↳ one-shot, pilot!reader, i love this 🥺🥺

worth my while by @pasukiyo

↳ one-shot, 18+, this fic is so gonna make it worth your while

doctor doctor, gimme the news by @tongue-like-a-razor

↳ one-shot, rooster can be a pain in the ass but at least he's cute

vampires by @siempre-bucky

↳ one-shot, vampire!bradley according to his kid 🦇

rescue me by @beccaanne814

↳ one-shot, 18+, excuse me for a second, i just need to yell into a void real quick

something to talk about by @roosterforme

↳ one-shot, am i a slut for Emily's work? yes and proud of it 😎

remember you even when i don't by @beyondthesefourwalls

↳ series, wife!reader, what an amazing story, i could not stop reading!

🌼JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN🌼

the little moments in life by @seresinsweetie

↳ one-shot, 18+, husnad!jake, if you need some angst, this one's for you

a morning work out by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

↳ one-shot, dad!jake, i want this to be my life so bad

commander by @thewulf

↳ one-shot, some good old fluff, we love to see it 🙌

roughing it up by @//ohtobeleah

↳ one-shot, 18+, jake x reader x bradley, this is so hot i don't have the words

into you by @starlightstories

↳ one-shot, nothing better than a little angst and idiots in love 😌

come back to me by @roostette

↳ one-shot, i want jake seresin to wreck my life

fruits of my labor by @roosterbruiser

↳ one-shot, 18+, beautiful story 💕

tipsy revelations by @bradshawed

↳ one-shot, i'm just SHSHHSHSHSHSHSH

1pink light by @sushiwriterhere

↳ one-shot, buckle up and get your tissues out

flight suit aphrodisiac by @//beyoundthesefourwalls

↳ one-shot, 18+, i am salivating thinking about that bloody suit 🤤🤤

🌼MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA🌼

continental breakfast by @ohtobeleah

↳ one-shot, 18+, wife!reader, this is just sick honestly

🌼STEVE HARRINGTON🌼

dress by @underoossss

↳ one-shot, i will read every fic inspired by tswift's song, this is my life mission

hits different (cause it's you) by @munsonsreputation

↳ one-shot, idiots in love is the superior trope!

this fic by @sunshinesteviee

↳ one-shot, dad!steve is just so 😫

question on my lips by @stevebabey

↳ one-shot, PERFECTION 👏

constellations by @loveshotzz

↳ one-shot, 18+, just the sweetest thing 😌

this fic by @lovebugism

↳ one-shot, 😫😫 <- me after reading this

happy mother's day, steve harrington by @roanniom

↳ one-shot, 18+, that man makes me so feral 😫

i couldn't be more in love by @ch3rrytales

↳ one-shot, 18+, i love angsty stories a little to much for my own good and sanity

we got love by @superblysubpar

↳ one-shot, modern!au, man, i just love love

🌼EDDIE MUNSON🌼

pretty eyes by @myfictionaldreams

↳ one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, loved this so very much!!!

the kids are alright by @two-red-lungs

↳ one-shot, SO CUTE!!!

unbelievable by @whoahoney

↳ one-shot, friends to lovers, great fic ��

🌼PETER PARKER🌼

angle unaware by @silkscream

↳ one-shot, 18+ silk!reader, friends to lovers, angst, slowburn, idiots in love, all my favourite thing basically

🌼BUCKY BARNES🌼

be(tter) in reality with me by @t-lostinworlds

↳ one-shot, husband!bucky x pregnant!reader, T's fics are always god tier so 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

🌼STEVE ROGERS🌼

new year, new steve by @real-jane

↳ one-shot, 18+, Kate is a legend forever and always 👏👏

🌼BENEDICT BRIDGERTON🌼

all the love (under the mistletoe) by @seasonsbloom

↳ one-shot, modern!au, friends to lovers, a lovely christmas story at the brink of summer was just what i needed

🌼JAMES POTTER🌼

cherry flavoured by @lunestella

↳ one-shot, friends to lovers, you don't understand how much i love this fic!!

🌼RHETT ABBOTT🌼

bitches can’t even measure up to my boots by @peachystenbrough

↳ one-shot, 18+, caution: hot content 🥵

[karniss-bg3]

The cult of the absolute doesn't strike me as necessarily caring about the quality of life of its followers given they can just-- brain wash them into thinking it's the best. What kind of living situation do you think Kar'niss was put into? After all-- they made an ogre stay in the same rooms as other races.

Without a doubt, the Absolute are dogshit at cultist accommodations. If they had a Yelp page it'd be one stars down the line. Although I hear the continental breakfasts have their perks; If you don't mind tadpoles in your oatmeal, that is.

When it comes to our dear baby boy I fear he may have it the worst out of anyone, or the best depending on how you look at it. I don't believe he lives at the tower full time. Driders are bloodthirsty and are required to consume blood at least every four days, otherwise their bodies begin to break down and they can die. Unless Ketheric Thorm had a steady system to meet these dietary needs it would require Kar'niss to go out on the hunt for meals. And if there is one thing driders are biologically wired to do, it's hunt...and often.

I believe Kar'niss spends most of his time at the camp where you first encounter him.

This area is large enough to handle his size and secluded enough to where he's rarely bothered. Stationed so close to the mountain pass it also affords him the jump on any foolish enough to enter the Shadowlands. If you enter through the doorway at the back you also find a lot of evidence that this could be his primary feeding nest.

Bloody drag marks, bodies in trees and rock faces and skeletal remains piling up in the cavern below, it's the perfect spot for a hungry drider to enjoy his meal in peace. He likely drags his victims to the tree, drinks them dry and discards the remains for scavengers or fiends to clean up.

I also believe this is the real reason he was given the moon lantern. Not because the Absolute actually favored him, but because out of anyone he would be required to venture into the Shadowlands most often. This elected him as the impromptu guide for any True Souls that wandered to Moonrise.

As for where he sleeps, I doubt he does much if at all. Drow only require four hours of rest with their trance ability, and Kar'niss is still labeled as a drow in his profile. Rest wouldn't come easy to him with so many voices bombarding his mind, vying for attention. So when he's not being tasked by the Absolute to act as a guide or some other side venture, he's either hunting or looming at the top of Moonrise tower to be closer to "Majesty". I have an idea as to how Kar'niss became so thoroughly mind fucked by them, but that's for another post.

If he does stay at the tower primarily it would be just as lonely as the pseudo campsite. Kar'niss is the Ned Flanders of the Absolute (with more murder), and everyone else is Reverend Lovejoy. Sure, they believe and follow faithfully, but Kar'niss is a bit too extra even for them. His constant ramblings, his fanatic devotion and how temperamental he can be make him an unpopular option to hang around. He's likely dismissed or outright ignored. In fact now that I think about it, I don't think a single NPC addresses him by name. The guard at Moonrise calls him 'drider' and that's it. Perhaps Minthara does but I can't recall to save my life. Sad.

Overall I think regardless of where he chooses to hang his web, it's a very isolated existence. The Absolute don't care about him, non-cultists don't care about him, and he has an invisible timer ticking down toward his expiration date. The poor creature is simply too brainwashed and broken to know it.

Thanks for the ask!

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Lost and Found

Chapter 2 (of 2): Wherein Mario finds out where his brother is

Fic Summary: Sunny skies and friends by his side...in Mario’s opinion, it was all the perfect setup for a perfect vacation! ...Too bad his brother up and disappeared partway through it. Fic Tags: Minor Bowser/Luigi, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Nonverbal Mario

Word Count: 4,427 words A/N: This fic's Mario's POV of An Egg in a Trying Time! So it would be helpful to read that one first, but I can't tell you what to do so do whatever!

[AO3 Link] [Link to beginning]

~~~

When Mario woke up, he squinted blearily at the clock and realized the restaurant Luigi had been last seen at had opened an hour ago.

Mario leapt out of bed. Beside him, Peach stirred. By the time he was ready to go she was still sleepily stumbling about, steps vaguely aiming for the bathroom. It took a minute or two of standing in the mirror for her to realize that her toothbrush wasn't here because she was in the wrong bathroom.

So she left. Mario followed her. He almost followed her straight into her room; the bemused smirk Peach sent at him at the threshold made Mario realize what he was doing, and he sheepishly stepped back to wait for her in the hallway.

During his wait, Toadette stepped out of her hotel room across the hall. Mario waved at her in greeting, and her face lit up with a grin.

“So the Princess was with you last night!” The glint in her eye strengthened at Mario’s confirming yet confused nod. She snickered. “Busy making quite the wish, weren't you?”

...What?

“Toadette!” Peach shouted from behind the door. She sounded mad. “What are you saying to him!”

“Nothing!” Toadette sang. She laughed, winked at Mario, and pranced down the hall.

Almost as soon as she’d turned the corner, Peach emerged from her hotel room. “Sorry about her,” she sighed, but Mario shrugged. He had no idea what Toadette had been on about.

The two of them scarfed down their complimentary continental breakfasts, and as soon as Mario finished he was immediately dashing for the door. “Mario, wait!” Peach called after him, to little avail. The only reason he stopped long enough for her to catch up was because he suddenly tripped on thin air. He must have finally realized what Toadette was hinting at earlier, judging by how red his face was and how he wouldn't look her in the eye. Peach couldn't help but laugh at his embarrassment.

---

Mario and Peach burst into the restaurant Rosalina had directed them to. The man at the counter, who had been practically falling asleep, started violently, jerking his head up. Peach steamrolled over his canned customer greeting to ask if anyone who looked like Mario but taller and wearing green had come by yesterday.

“I wasn't workin’ yesterday so I can't really help you,” the man said, looking regretful. “My junior was the one on the clock, but they'd had a bad day yesterday, so they're taking the day off.”

“I see.” Peach sighed, similarly disappointed. “Thanks anyway.”

With a little curtsy she turned to leave, and Mario trailed after her, hat pulled low on his head. Something about that downtrodden motion had the man’s eyes widening.

“H-Hold on a sec!” He stopped them as they were almost out the door. “Did your guy have a hat like that one?” He pointed to Mario’s hat. Mario nodded, and the man ducked under the counter and pulled out —

“That’s Luigi’s hat!” Peach exclaimed. Mario’s eyes widened at the evidence Luigi had been here. Peach hurried back to the counter. “Where did you —?”

“Guess he’s the guy from yesterday my junior was telling me about.” The man handed Peach the hat. “I think they said he dropped it when he left with that other guy.”

“��Other guy’?”

“Big, spiky, scaly, looks like he could tear apart concrete with his bare hands?” The man raised an arm in the air as if to demonstrate how tall that 'other guy' was. "Apparently he just picked up your guy and left. Scared my junior half to death; it's why they're not here, ha! Honestly, if that’s all it takes to scare them, then I'm not sure they’re cut out for this job if I'm being honest!”

“O-oh thank you for your help have a good day goodbye!” Peach said all in one breath, because Mario had already stormed out as soon as he’d heard the words big and spiky. If not for knowing exactly where he was headed, she probably would have lost him completely. She just about caught up with him at the beginning of the makeshift path to Bowser’s fortress, where she had to stop and catch her breath. Ugh, she knew she shouldn't have worn these shoes today...!

Perhaps sensing how exhausted she was trying to run after him, Mario paused his determined march to turn around and hover near Peach concernedly. And now that he was close, Peach glared at him, poking a painted nail into his chest. “Quit leaving me behind,” she scolded him. “I want to teach Bowser a lesson as much as you do! Using my invitation to pull this stunt...” she huffed, punctuating her frustration by putting Luigi’s hat firmly on her head. She scowled at the place the dirt path met the horizon.

Mario looked chastened, and also a little wary of Peach’s ire. That was likely why he stopped rushing ahead, making a point to make sure Peach was always close behind him. To her credit, Peach wasn't exactly going slow, and they sped down the path. They only stopped once more, upon catching a glint of something in the grass. It was Luigi’s phone, screen cracked yet still powered on. The sight put them on edge; was there some kind of struggle? At least they knew why he wasn't answering any of their messages, now. They took it with them as they ran onward.

---

They arrived at the front gates of the fortress, closed. Mario had half a mind to break in through the doors anyway, but Peach was already sneaking around the curve of the fence to scout ahead so he quietly followed her lead.

Soon enough, they heard laughter. They hid behind some bushes, peeking out to see Bowser Junior running across the courtyard behind the fence, with Kammy chasing after him. Beyond them, Bowser was sitting against the wall, looking down at something.

Kammy stumbled, catching herself before she fell but staying hunched over, hands on her knees. She panted and gasped for breath in a way that had Mario concerned for her overall well-being. Before that sympathy could fully manifest, though, Kammy perked her head up, furrowed her brow, and stared straight at Mario and Peach’s hiding place like she was seeing right through it.

Peach gathered her skirts to hide better. Mario tensed, ready to act if Kammy exposed their hiding spot.

Kammy narrowed her eyes at them, but then turned to Junior, who was too busy taunting her and waving something shiny around to pay attention to what she was looking at. She dashed at him, and he danced out of reach with a laugh, towards Bowser. She feinted, and he ran away in the opposite direction. With one last look at them, Kammy resumed her chase, leaving Mario and Peach feeling a bit wrong-footed. Because if this was a kidnapping, then why didn't Kammy fight them? She definitely knew they were there. And for that matter, why lead Junior away? Maybe it was a way to get him out of an upcoming fight? But it wasn't like Junior’s family shied away much from letting him participate in kidnappings to begin with...

The pair crept forward, hidden in the foliage. From behind a tree they watched Bowser as he sat on a blanket. Kamek was sitting next to him. In Bowser’s lap was the Yoshi egg, and next to Bowser’s leg was a clump of green, chest rising and falling. Peach's grip on Mario's shoulder was strong as Mario went weak-kneed in relief. Luigi was okay, thank goodness.

That relief bred a bit of carelessness, so Mario and Peach were noticed by Kamek next. But aside from sending them an aggrieved glare, he did nothing else, similar to Kammy earlier. When neither of them moved, Kamek raised an eyebrow. Well?, he seemed to be asking.

With a shared unsure glance, Mario and Peach stepped out of their hiding spot and approached the fence. It was then Bowser noticed them and — yep, there was the aggression Mario had been expecting this entire time, even if said aggression was manifesting as snarling and growling rather than the usual shouting and taunting. Either way, of course his brother would be sleeping through it, the spaghetti-head, despite Peach calling his name to try and rouse him.

Well, desperate times called for desperate measures, and Mario was pretty sure he could manage one such measure, given the situation. Hands gripping tight on the fence and eyes squeezed shut, Mario took the biggest breath he could, dug deep inside himself, and shouted his brother’s name. It wasn't a particularly good shout, crackling and dying on the last syllable in a way that had Mario coughing from the lingering tear in his throat, but it was enough to cause Luigi to leap to his feet instantly upon hearing it, scooping up the egg as he rose and turning his head every which way for the source of the sound. When he found it, he looked surprised, then gladdened, but then worried as he took in the full scope of what was happening. A worry Mario certainly shared, and one that grew for the both of them when Luigi’s attempt to leave Bowser’s reach captured Bowser’s full attention. A second attempt had Bowser advancing towards Luigi, and Mario’s heart dropped like a stone.

Mario needed to get over there. But there wasn't a way around this fence. So Mario lodged a foot into one of its decorative spirals and pulled himself up, and up, and up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kamek reluctantly ready himself for a fight, but Mario’s main focus was on Luigi, pushing himself to climb faster as his brother was forced to resort to using his Thunderhand to keep Bowser at arms length.

Mario was almost at the top of the fence when he felt something hit his leg. He looked down. It was Peach, arm outstretched. Wait, she mouthed up at him and — wha —?! No!

But in that brief moment Mario spared to scowl down at Peach, the situation in the courtyard changed dramatically. Luigi was backing away from Bowser, and Bowser looked...like he’d given up on whatever he’d planned for Luigi. Which was so odd and incredibly unlike him that Mario stopped climbing the fence. Bowser was hardly known as someone who just...gave up, like he was seemingly doing now. It was a difference Luigi seemed to pick up on as well as he — as he walked toward Bowser? If Luigi was going to make baffling decisions like that, then Mario really shouldn't have stopped climbing after all...

But strangely yet thankfully, Bowser still didn't move, letting Luigi rest the Yoshi egg by his foot and back away again. Luigi continued to back away, and after a hesitant glance at Kamek — who also looked disinclined to do anything — he turned on his heel and ran toward Mario and Peach.

Despite Mario’s progress up the fence, he slid all the way back down it, because Luigi was running too fast to not get a faceful of iron when he reached them. And get a faceful of iron he did, Peach and Mario putting a hand on each of his shoulders to steady him. As Luigi breathed the adrenaline out of his system Peach carefully put his hat back on his head, and he clutched the brim of it so tightly that he was probably creating creases he’d be cross about not being able to iron out for the time being.

Movement over Luigi’s shoulder caught Mario’s eye. It was Bowser, who’d also reacted to Luigi’s impact with the fence, having taken a step forward. He watched them not with the second wave of anger Mario was expecting him to be in by now, but with something closer to wariness plus a touch of what maybe could have been described as concern, if such an emotion made any sense right now. But watch was all Bowser did, so in the lull in the action Mario checked Luigi over, gaze sweeping over his shaking form. He looked unharmed physically, but...

As Luigi took one last deep breath, Peach asked him what was going on. Luigi took a moment to steady himself, then he answered her, a long-winded story that told the tale of what had happened over the past day.

Luigi told them about being snatched away from that restaurant around lunchtime yesterday, and Mario abruptly remembered that foreboding feeling he’d had at the beach. The feeling that, if he’d followed it, he might have been able to...A wave of regret washed over him, and he kept it off his face the best he could.

As Luigi explained the reason behind Bowser acting so strange lately, Mario glanced behind Luigi at the Koopa in question. The longer Luigi stood over here, the less wary Bowser looked. Until he was just annoyed and impatient, wearing a scowl more closely resembling his usual self. He also looked like he wanted to go over to them, which despite what Luigi had told them so far had Mario’s guard rising. Except Kamek leaned up and whispered something into Bowser’s ear, and whatever he had to say made Bowser huff grumpily and sit down. Not only did that make Mario feel a bit better, but the fact that Bowser listened to something Kamek said without any complaint or backtalk was yet another piece of evidence for his strange behavior.

Luigi finished off his tale by assuring them he was unharmed — “I know it looked scary earlier, but everyone’s been pretty nice to me, promise!” — but Mario knew said scare had probably spooked his brother something fierce, despite the brave face he was trying to put on. So Mario was back to trying to get over the fence, this time to give Luigi the embrace he sorely needed to hold it together (and one he himself could admit he’d like to have for the same reason). He could try climbing again, but now that he had the space to think, Mario had a better idea. He turned to Peach, who nodded.

The two of them both backed up, Peach motioning for Luigi to back up as well. With a lead-up run and a hop into Peach’s cupped hands, Mario was over the fence in one fell swoop. He’d meant to land next to Luigi, but in his excitement he landed on top of him instead, sending them both crashing to the ground. Mario propped himself on an elbow and grinned at Luigi, even as he was admonished for almost re-antagonizing Bowser.

As Luigi sat up, Mario rubbed at the red mark on Luigi’s forehead from when he’d collided with the fence. When blue eyes met blue, Luigi’s breath hitched, and he dropped his head on Mario’s shoulder. Mario leaned his head atop his, all the stress about being apart from his brother melting away in an instant. Not even Junior’s suspicion at his presence could disrupt it. And really, if Luigi didn't want him laughing so much every time someone brought up that acquired maternal title of his, then he should probably react less hilariously defensive about it when Mario did so!

What did pop his mood a bit, however, was Peach joking about hanging out in Bowser’s nest herself. Although he had to concede to her implied point that Bowser was quite the bastion of safety for the people he held dear, at least. When Luigi agreed too, her smile widened, but she quickly moved the conversation along.

Peach handed Luigi his phone; Luigi’s eyes widened as he scrolled through his notifications, and Mario abruptly remembered the obscene number of messages he’d sent him, face growing hot. But even still, Luigi looked apologetic, as if he hadn't been the one who’d lost his phone while getting kidnapped. Thankfully, Luigi got distracted from asking why Mario had sent so many messages to him by one of Peach’s texts that had come way before most of them, and Mario leapt to help Peach explain what, exactly, had happened at the beach yesterday in Luigi’s absence. They talked and talked and for a moment Mario forgot Luigi wouldn't be able to go with them when it was time for them to leave.

And that time came sooner than Mario wanted it to, judging by how Bowser was looking at them. Or, rather, how he was looking at Luigi. And wasn't that a curious thing? From what Luigi had explained, it was the Yoshi egg that had been the trigger for all this, and it was currently sitting right next to Bowser’s knee. By all rights, then, Bowser should be satisfied. So why wasn't he?

Luigi asked almost as much out loud, and Peach’s cryptic reply shed no light on it. And for some reason, she added an out-of-pocket comment about Bowser being cute, which was an opinion Mario was pretty sure she’d never held in her entire life.

But...it was one Luigi apparently had, judging by his near-immediate hum of agreement. Subconsciously, too, by the way he immediately tried to take that agreement back.

As Mario watched his brother sputter and wave his arms around in embarrassed denial, he realized he’d seen this behavior before. With Daisy, Prince Peasley...Mario knew Luigi was quick to catch feelings, but...Bowser? Of all people? Really? Mario looked between Luigi, who was looking more and more flustered by the second, and Bowser, who was looking more and more forlorn to match. Mario resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. His brother really outdid himself this time, didn't he. When did this even start? No, that was a silly question; of course one day of Bowser acting soft would be all it took for a crush to form. Luigi knew Bowser had to go back to normal eventually, right? What was he going to do then? Honestly...

Mario's thoughts were derailed by Luigi calling his name. He decided not to answer Luigi’s question of what he was thinking about; just because he was still struggling to wrap his head around the current state of his brother’s love life didn't mean he had to turn his incredulity outwards in a way that might come off as negative. Maybe later, when it could come out with a more teasing edge to it.

For now, it was probably time to stop stalling and let Luigi go back to Bowser’s nest. Before he could lose his nerve about it, Mario clasped a hand on Luigi’s shoulder and led him back there himself. He got as close as he dared, since Kamek was snapping at him and Bowser’s defensive aggression had returned in full force, and pushed Luigi the rest of the way. Though Bowser calmed down a few notches once Luigi was within arm’s reach again, from the way he was still glaring at him he must have been thinking Mario was going to change his mind and take Luigi away after all, in some cruel bait and switch. One Mario had no interest in; there was no telling how exactly Bowser would react if he tried. Admittedly, Mario felt like he probably should bear the brunt of whatever fury would ensue to bring Luigi back to town with him, but...

Mario’s eyes swept over the scene before him, taking in Luigi’s surprise at his actions and everyone else’s varying degrees of hostile protectiveness, keeping what Luigi had said about their treatment of him and the optimism with which he’d described it in mind. If Luigi was confident his remaining time here was going to be fine, then Mario was willing to borrow some of that confidence and trust he was right. Besides, with Bowser’s current mental state Luigi was obviously considered important to him in some way, so at least Luigi would be safe in Mario's absence.

...it was still hard to part with him, though. And yet he had to, because his presence was making this sub-optimal situation worse for Luigi. It took all he could to muster the energy to back away, and after jumping back over the fence he and Peach waved goodbye to Luigi for maybe a little too long before they parted ways with him. Mario fought the urge to turn back around, slotting a hand in Peach’s so she could lead him away before he gave in to that impulse.

---

The walk back to town was quiet, with both Mario and Peach thinking and worrying about Luigi.

Mario, especially, was worried if he’d done the right thing by leaving him with Bowser. But at least he knew where Luigi was now, and he could go fight to get him back, if necessary. And hopefully that wouldn't be necessary; hopefully all that would happen was Luigi would hang out with his new crush for a day or two more and then come back safe and sound. Mario huffed at the thought of it.

“What’s so funny? Oh!” Peach giggled. “Luigi’s crush on Bowser, right? It’s cute, isn't it?”

Mario made a face. He wasn't sure ‘cute’ was the word to describe it. But at least it'll be fleeting, like all Luigi’s crushes usually were, and all Mario really had to worry about was the moment it petered out into a teary-eyed aftermath he would have to help him through, as per usual.

Peach hummed. “Maybe...I guess it would end that way if not for Bowser having a crush on Luigi, as well.”

Mario rolled his eyes. Right, it was so —

Mario stopped.

Peach kept walking, turning around to smirk at him. Mario’s feet caught up with his brain when she was almost a pink speck on the road before him, and he all but sprinted to catch up with her.

“What, you didn't notice?” Peach innocently asked when Mario grabbed desperately at her sleeve. The distress on Mario’s face only grew. Peach laughed and took pity on him, explaining how Luigi’s recount of Kamek’s explanation for Bowser’s behavior truly aligned with said behavior regarding Luigi, with ample evidence from both Luigi’s description of Bowser’s actions yesterday and the behavior they witnessed from him themselves. It was really the only explanation that made sense, given all the facts.

Mario nodded slowly. Now that Peach laid it all out, it was a little bit obvious, wasn't it? He let go of Peach’s sleeve. He took a step back. He turned on his heel.

“Hey, wait!” Peach snapped her arm out to grab Mario’s sleeve, this time. “You can't do that!”

But —

“You wouldn't have left him there in the first place if he wasn't safe,” Peach argued. “This hardly changes that. In fact, I think that makes things even more safe for him, actually! Bowser does have standards for how he treats love interests, you know.”

Mario thought about the places he’d rescue Peach from — cages, locked rooms, dangling from the ceiling by rope. Weird standards, aren't they?

“And yet!” Peach clapped her hands once with a grin. “The feelings are real this time! So it’ll already be a step up from how he’d treated me!”

...Mario wasn't sure he was reassured by that.

At his continued hesitance, Peach’s grin melted into something softer. She patted him on the shoulder. “We still have to get Luigi some spare clothes, among other things,” she reminded him, “So you can check on him then. In the meantime,” she added when his worried face still didn't budge, “since Luigi isn't here, you can tell me the story behind the whole ‘Mama Luigi’ thing; I’m dying to know!”

At that, Mario’s face finally broke into a small smile. They resumed their walk back to town, a walk that was loud with laughter about the job Mario and Luigi had taken all those years ago, and the ridiculous events that had followed it.

---

About an hour later, Mario returned to Bowser’s fortress, a green duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He made his way directly to the same part of the fence as before, and through it he could see Bowser, Luigi, and the others having a picnic lunch. When Bowser noticed him and began to growl, Luigi was quick to nudge him for it, and with a few words he had Bowser sullenly glaring at Mario instead. Seeing that Luigi had Bowser well under control put Mario a bit more at ease. Even if the main reason for that control was nigh incomprehensible.

Mario shook his head; he could continue to process all this some other time, but right now he had to get Luigi his bag. He wondered if he could make the triple-jump over the fence again; in the middle of backing up to try it, the bag slipped up off his shoulder. Mario almost ran right into the fence trying to grab it as it floated away from him, but then it floated up and over the fence towards the picnicking group and he realized Kammy’s magic was levitating it, solving his problem. Oh well. He’d kind of been hoping to hug Luigi again, but he supposed he would have to wait until some other time.

On the other side of the fence, Luigi rifled through his bag, even giving one or two things to Bowser to examine more closely. Satisfied with the contents, Luigi raised his head and turned his attention back to Mario. Even from this far away Mario could see Luigi’s dawning realization about how he looked planted square in Bowser’s lap. His lips twitched in amusement as Luigi’s cheeks turned pink. Just as he’d hoped; Luigi was just hanging out with his crush, his crush’s family notwithstanding. Fleeting or not, and regardless of how things would go after Bowser was back to normal, Mario could hardly begrudge Luigi making the most of his circumstances while he could; if nothing else, it was more to use to tease Luigi later, which was something Mario could admit he was very much looking forward to after the days he’s had, recently.

With that, though, there was little Mario could do besides leave again, to go back to town while Luigi stayed here. It was still hard, but at the same time it was easier, somehow. Still, as he turned away, Mario couldn't help but pull out his phone. He sent a message. Seconds later, he got one back. The skip in his step stayed for the entire walk back down the path.

[ladylilithprime]

Heaven Ain't Close

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural: 

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Cas Is A Fallen Angel Who Doesn't Want To Go Back To Heaven

Summary: Creation didn't begin in a garden, but some people liked to claim it did. John Castiel's Novak's world wouldn't end in a garden, either, but he still had to face down the Archangel who used to be his brother and say so.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 28: Goodbye

Read on AO3

IF HE HAD to be completely honest - and he wasn't sure he could get away with not being completely honest anymore - John Castiel Novak had been expecting something to happen for months. His twin, James Constantine Novak, hadn't said anything about Cas's preoccupation, but Cas knew he felt the edge of unease that crept up on him in quiet moments when they were out on the road in the Lincoln Continental they'd practically lived in at times over the years. The unease faded beneath a quiet, fluttery sort of joy whenever they turned Old Abe's nose towards Palo Alto once again, even going blessedly silent when Sam Winchester welcomed them home and Cas could wrap himself around the two people he loved probably more than his own life. Even easier when Sam accepted his and Jimmy's only somewhat impromptu proposal and agreed that they could talk about all three of them getting married.

But in the quiet, in the dark and the solitude of his dreams that more and more frequently followed him into the waking world, anxieties crept in. He knew he was slipping, not always managing to speak in English around Jimmy and Sam when he first woke up, but neither of them called him on it. Sam even seemed to halfway understand him at times which was its own brand of anxiety. Sam's dreams, which had always had a tendency towards the prophetic according to his brother Dean, had also been increasing in frequency, though Sam always refused to talk about them.

"I can't talk about them," he had explained once in pained frustration. "Most of the time I don't even have the words to talk about them in a way other people would understand because it's like I'm mentally tapping into the source code of the Universe and human minds aren't really equipped to process that kind of programming language wholesale. If they're something I or you can do something about, I can give warnings or point you in the right direction, maybe a name or a town if I'm lucky, but I can't just up and describe everything I See because it works on probability and human free will throws it all into flux. It's not a case of 'if this, then that', more like 'if this, then A, B, C, D, or E, but only if that person does X instead of Y before this even occurs'. And that's with the simple, straightforward ones!"

Both Cas and Jimmy had agreed not to press for details after that and stuck to offering what assistance they could by taking turns holding him along with his familiar, Bones, or bringing him a mug of one of his post-vision teas and rubbing his back, and occasionally by taking a "brief trip" to a town or to see a person when Sam could say. Sometimes they even managed to save everyone, and that helped with the disappointed grief when they were too late.

With all the anxiety twisting up in Cas's gut, it almost felt like a relief when one morning, as Cas was taking his turn sitting with Sam while Jimmy threw together something light for breakfast that didn't involve turning on the stove at all, Sam looked up from his tea and said solemnly to Cas, "He's coming."

"Finally," Cas groaned, slumping against the back of his chair and reaching up to rub his eyes. "Did he have to stop and ask for directions or something? Don't answer that."

"Do we need weapons?" Jimmy asked, studying the pair of them with a placid expression belied by unhappy eyes.

Sam shrugged and looked at Cas, who bit his lower lip and then slowly shook his head.

"It's not that it's not dangerous," he said at length. "It's just not... He doesn't want to hurt me, I don't think. But what he wants...."

"What does he want?" Jimmy frowned, an edge of protective "who is this person threatening my brother" to his voice that made Cas want to smile. Instead, he sighed.

"He wants me to make a choice," he said, glancing at Sam and grimacing at the pained sympathy he saw in his lover's eyes. "But it's not really a choice, or maybe it's just one I've already made. He won't make me fight him - I don't want to fight him - but I might need the reminder of why I made the choice when I have to look him in the eye and tell him. At this point, the best weapons I can have are the two of you and Bones beside me. My literal other half... our beloved... our loyal friend..."

Bones woofed softly and put her head on Cas's knee, and he managed a small smile for her as he scratched behind her ears affectionately. Jimmy brought the breakfast he'd made - granola and mixed berries with vanilla Kefir - over to the table and distributed the bowls between the three humans, giving Bones a small plate with a few pieces of leftover rotisserie chicken as he sat down. "I'm guessing you can't pin down the when so... Where?"

"Can we stay in the garden?" Cas asked, glancing up at Sam, who smiled a little and nodded.

"I'll ask Dean to put a 'closed for family emergency' sign on the shop," he said. At that was that.

DEAN ENDED UP coming back after putting up the sign and calling himself out of work at the garage for the day. He was also duly unimpressed when Cas tried to tell him that he didn't need to do that.

"It's not a punching or shooting kind of fight, I know," he said with a shrug. "Still a fight, and I never leave my brothers to fight alone, not when we're on our home turf. Besides, way Sammy phrased it, you need all the emotional support we can muster up for you. Max and Jess said they'd both take half days and bring the kids up around noon with lunch for all of us, and they'll stay if you want them to or clear out if you'd rather they not know whatever this is about."

Cas was still a bit too choked up by the "brothers" comment to manage a verbal response - it was a marked difference in attitude from Dean's initial suspicious threats of bodily harm towards him and Jimmy - so he could only nod weakly and lean slightly into the hand Dean rested on his shoulder.

The energies of the garden wrapped around Cas as soon as he stepped out into it, caressing his awareness and singing to him of welcome and home. For the first time, Cas made himself ignore the song to instead look around at the rampant greenery and growth with a tactical eye, seeking out a spot that was both defensible and also within easy eye line to the main gates. Catching Jimmy's eyes, he nodded to the central mosaic and its surrounding four quarter-circle benches. "Two and two?"

"All four, facing the gate," Jimmy countered. "Sam?"

"Three and one," Sam hummed, studying the benches himself. "Hospitality and all. Cas?"

"Works for me."

The three of them moved the benches around while Dean slipped back to his house to collect a cooler and a couple of bags of ice from the chest freezer under the carport. By the time Jess and Max arrived with the girls, they had settled themselves on and around the benches in casual but clear battle lines. Cas sat in the middle with Jimmy beside him and Dean on Jimmy's other side with Sam on the ground at Cas's feet and settled back between his legs. Jess took up the spot on Cas's other side with Tylene in her lap while Samantha sat beside her mother, leaving Max to take a page out of Sam's book and sit at his wife's feet. They passed around food and drinks, everyone taking turns "sneaking" bites of turkey or roast beef to Bones, talking casually about whatever light and easy topic popped into someone's mind. At some point, Cas started absentmindedly braiding sections of Sam's hair, which had Sammi clambering over her mother and sister to "help" before Bones decided that she'd had enough lounging about and coaxed Sammi into coming to run around the garden with her.

"So this is where you got yourself off to!"

The voice, an unfamiliar tenor with a jovial lilt to it, broke through a conversation between Jimmy, Max, and Dean on the proposed construction of a bigger deck out behind Dean's house. All eyes turned towards the speaker who stood leaning against the gate and watching them all with glittering golden eyes, lips curved up in a slightly sarcastic smirk. Jimmy's hand found its way to Cas's thigh and Jess leaned casually into his other side, but it was Sam who spoke first.

"You always could have asked," he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders that ended with him draping his arms over Cas's knees. "Not like you didn't know Dean and I were in the area. You still going by 'Loki' or is there another name you want to admit to this time?"

"Why so convinced Loki isn't actually my name?" their uninvited guest asked, eyebrows raised. His eyes skipped over each of them, pausing to leer a bit at Jess who had pulled aside her shirt and was feeding a hungry Tylie.

"Eyes up, horndog," Jess snorted. "These tits are already booked up."

"You don't feel right to be Loki," Max piped up. Cas glanced down at him only to see Max staring past the gate with his head tilted to one side. "You've got the right energy signature vibration wrapped around you like a cloak, but you're too bright underneath it. Did he look like this last time you saw him?"

"Eeyup," Sam confirmed, popping the 'p'. "'Course, he was also trying to pass himself off as a demigod trickster at the time until Dean showed up and blew that cover."

"Normal trickster wouldn't still be alive after getting staked by John Winchester," Dean said in the same tone as his brother. "Showed up in Palo Alto pretty soon after I moved here, kinda thought he must'a been tracking me for some reason, 'cept he left me and Sammy alone after that. Figured he got whatever he was looking for and lost interest."

"So, not a regular trickster, and not actually Loki," Jimmy summarized. "Question remains who he actually is."

"Gabriel," Cas mumbled, causing several eyes to turn his way and the figure at the gates to go very, very still. "Basapa'a'el bana'a. You never remember sleep-talking when you dream, Sam, but I was awake for that one."

"Then you know why I'm here," Gabriel said, looking at Cas with narrowed eyes. Jimmy's grip on Cas's leg tightened.

"Not really," Cas answered as he shrugged the shoulder Jess wasn't leaning on. "I can guess why you think you're here, but I'm not the one who has psychic visions and Sam's never been able to explain them or tell us much."

"And the chances of you coming with me to get that explanation--" Gabriel started.

"Not happening," Dean said. "Cas is family, so we're sticking close. Deal with it."

"They call you 'Cas'?" Gabriel ignored Dean to look at Cas.

"It's my name," Cas said, thumb stroking through Sam's hair. "Short form of my middle name, anyway. John Castiel Novak. Older twin to James Constantine Novak."

"Fiance to Sam Winchester," Sam spoke up quietly.

"Future brother-in-law to Dean Winchester," Dean added.

"Adopted son of Bobby Singer," Jimmy chimed in.

"And future godfather-in-law to Samantha and Tylene Moore," Jess finished. "So you wanna talk to Cas, you'll just have to do it here with the rest of us attending."

Gabriel grimaced, studying the resolved faces, then sighed. "Can I come in, then?"

"Can you?" Cas challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Gabriel frowned at him, then pushed open the gate and stepped inside. The adults all relaxed, Sam even tilting his head back to press against Cas's middle and not precisely incidentally exposing his throat at the confirmation that Gabriel was accepted by the wards.

"Have a seat," Dean said, reaching behind himself to get at the cooler. "You want a beer?"

"You think I'm gonna be here long enough to drink it?" Gabriel countered skeptically as he moved to sit on the free bench.

"The wards let you in, so you ain't here to hurt anyone," Dean shrugged.

"Archangel," Gabriel pointed out.

"Still not more powerful than the wards," Sam hummed. "Michael bounced."

"When was that?" Cas asked idly.

"Little over a year ago," Sam answered. "Tried sneaking through to possess Dean at one point. The wards read his intentions as harmful and flung him off. Raphael showed up wearing some poor man named Donnie five minutes later, couldn't get past the gate, and then started yelling over the wall to demand I 'hand over the Michael Sword'. Dean thought he'd lost his mind."

"I blame Carver Edlund," Dean grumbled.

"Carver Edlund?" Gabriel stared, then looked back at Cas, then at Jimmy. Cas saw the realization dawning. "John and James. The Novak Gospels. After everything these two did to hide themselves and their bloodline, Raph and Mikey followed the drunk prophet writing books about you two straight to the Winchesters."

"They didn't have any more luck getting us to play their games than the demons," Sam said blandly. "And the demons had a head start, what with constantly trying to figure out why Azazel's experiments kept coming out here and disappearing off their radar. They don't tend to make it out this far, though. Try again."

"What?" Gabriel blinked.

"You're trying to rattle Cas's feelings of safety, of the security of the people he loves, playing on the potential guilt of putting me and Dean in danger except that wasn't on Cas and Jimmy. That was Azazel," Sam said. He lifted a hand to tap lightly at his temple. "I'm connected to the wards that are still reading your intentions. Try again."

"Or don't," Cas muttered under his breath. At a more normal volume, he added, "And skip the part about not having the safety of the wards when Jimmy and I are out on hunts. We know the risks, accept them, and take steps to minimize them, so maybe try being direct about why you're here instead of dancing around the subject."

"Okay then," Gabriel narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "You need to leave here and come with me to retrieve your Grace, Castiel, or the next time one of our brothers comes across you and realizes who you are they're going to kill you."

"I know," Cas said, raising his voice to carry over the startled protests from Jimmy, Max, Dean and Jess. "And it's a shame that they're going to receive those orders, but taking back my Grace wouldn't stop them."

"Cas?" Jess murmured worriedly, her free hand fumbling for his.

"I accepted when I Fell that I wouldn't be allowed to go home," Castiel said softly, eyes fixed on Gabriel. "After so many times being put through reeducation for daring to do something as simple as feel compassion for humanity, I knew that if I left the Host to become one then I would never be welcomed back."

"You could," Gabriel pressed. "You can take back your Grace and then take me back up, and nobody would question that you only Fell to have a better chance at finding the wayward runaway Archangel."

"I am a horrible liar, Gabriel," Castiel shook his head. "And I am still just as flawed as I was before I left. Perhaps more so."

"What the hell?" Dean demanded. "Ain't nothing about you that's flawed!"

"Oh, but there is, at least for an angel," Castiel sighed. "Or so I have been told over and over by Naomi every time she must deal with me. Too much heart." He took a deep breath and let it out, letting that part of him slip away again. "Sorry, Gabriel. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't really want to."

"Cassie," Gabriel pleaded. "If they kill you, that's it. You'll never see Heaven again."

"I wouldn't anyway," Cas shrugged, glancing at Jimmy and receiving a nod. "I'm marrying Sam, along with Jimmy, and we're planning to dedicate ourselves to Hades."

"Cas and I share a soul," Jimmy added, leaning into his brother. "One soul, two bodies, but it's definitely both of us. And we don't want to go to any afterlife that doesn't have our friends and our husband-to-be waiting in it."

"It wouldn't be Heaven without him," Cas finished. "I'm sorry, Gabriel... but if the only reason you came is to take me away from the people I love, the family who cares for me and supports me without trying to change me, then I guess this is goodbye."

"You're making a mistake," Gabriel warned. "You won't get another chance after this, and your human family are the ones who'll have to suffer for it when you're dead."

"Maybe," Jimmy answered instead. "If he ends up dying before me, I'm probably going to fall to pieces. But it's not like we don't know where he's going, and it's still his mistake to make. Free will and choice matter. Maybe angels don't have free will--"

"--but humans do," Cas finished. "And whatever else I was, I'm human now. That means I make my own choices, good and bad, and I accept and live with the consequences, good and bad. And I'm choosing this."

At last, Gabriel slumped in his seat, defeated. "Yeah, I get it. I ran away because I couldn't take Raph and Mikey's monofocusing on The Plan and didn't want to choose between them and Luci, but that was still a choice and I'm living with it. So I get it. Just... what am I supposed to do with this now?"

He held up a bottle of something blue-white and glowing that flowed like oil in zero gravity as he waggled it back and forth. Jimmy hissed under his breath, his grip on Cas's knee going tight enough to bruise. Jess made a noise like she was trying to swallow a coo of admiration. And Sam... started humming.

...never gonna give you up... never gonna let you down....

Cas snickered, threading his fingers through Sam's hair, thinking not for the first time that he was going to really enjoy meeting Tyson Brady in the afterlife.

"Give it to Persephone," he told Gabriel. "I'm sure she'll be able to think of something suitable to do with it."

[mscaitlinb]

The teacher who broke me

As a teacher, I draw my inspiration from my instructors growing up. And for me, a lot of that inspiration came from what NOT to do in the studio. I’ve had wonderful instructors who have left a great impression upon my teachings, but so many that didn’t. There’s one in particular who sticks with me to this day. Let’s call her Rita. 

She came into my life when I was around 13 years old. She would come into our studio every now and then to set some choreography and travel back to LA afterwards. After about a year, she moved down to Austin and joined the faculty of our studio. We started to take regular classes from her, as well as perform her choreographic pieces. My first impression of her was that she’s tough, but tough was what I thought I needed for my training. And for some reason, she took a liking to me. 

I had some natural charisma at this point, and proved to be a hard worker in class and rehearsals. Perhaps that’s why she took a liking to me. My 2nd year at the studio, she choreographed a piece for our small Teen company, and she made me the lead. I had a nice little solo in the beginning part. That’s how it was for a bit, getting leads and special parts in almost every piece, and proving to be a strong and reliable dancer at the time. 

A few years later, Rita decided to leave and open up her own studio in Austin. As I was approaching my junior year of high school, I needed to start thinking about my training and goals for post high school. Seeing as I wanted to do more concert dance, and Rita was offering more Ballet and Modern classes at her studio, I figured this was the best move for my dance career.

A small group of us had migrated over and became her first pre-professional dance company in Austin. We had more than half of our classes with Rita, and she also choreographed a majority of our routines for the year. This is where I began to see more of this ugly side of her. 

The first thing I noticed was how she phrased certain corrections given to me and the other students. For me, she had a “special” one for my ballet technique. Anytime she wanted me to engage my core, she’d point to my stomach and say, “pork chops!” Insinuating that my belly was hanging out as if I had just eaten pork chops. I heard this everyday in Ballet class for 5 years that she taught. Slowly this would eat away inside of me, and begin to plant seeds of negative body image that would last all the way into my mid 20s. Of course, these weren’t the only comments made to us regarding our bodies. 

I recall a time where a bunch of us were at a dance workshop of hers in Tampa Bay, Florida. It was one Summer and we were taking classes all day for one whole week. We all stayed at a Best Western hotel, with a continental breakfast every day. One morning, we were down in the dining area grabbing food. I was well on my way to the waffle machine, my favorite breakfast staple. I had grabbed a banana on my way there when Rita stopped me. “Caitlin, you look so thin today!” She said with a pleasant grin on her face. “Oh thank you very much.” I replied. She glances down at my banana and asks, “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I look up and gesture towards the waffle machine, and before I can say anything she pats my hand holding the banana and says, “Oh no, I think that’s enough for you.” She walks away leaving me in a state of shock. Now being a 14 year old girl with low self esteem, I take her word as is, and eat only the banana for a full day of dancing. These instances happened far too often where I wanted nothing but to please my dance teacher, and believe what she has to say will help me make it into the dance industry. I truly believed she cared for me when she made comments like this, but I see now that it was wrong.

Another thing to know about me, is I have a ridiculously great memory when it comes to choreography. I can even recall some choreographic routines from when I was 12 years old. It is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I know what I’m doing and can help my fellow peers out while working on a piece. A curse to me because of Rita. This means that I’m held to a higher standard of knowing every detail, and can’t fall anywhere below that. If I did fail, I would be susceptible to several repercussions. I’d be in more trouble than my peers if I couldn’t remember every little piece of choreography. That’s how it worked for me. These criticisms would translate into attendance too. If I missed one class to stay home and finish overdue homework, I would be reprimanded and threatened with different consequences, such as being dismissed from certain routines. 

One semester, Rita noticed I had missed some classes due to a multitude of reasons including homework, physical therapy, familial obligations etc. One day she pulls me aside to let me know I have an ‘outstanding’ amount of absences and unless I can get to the 4:30 PM ballet classes on time to make them up, I would be removed from an upcoming dance, set by a professional choreographer coming into town. This would become a logistical nightmare! At the time, I got out of school at 4:10 PM, and to get out of our high school parking lot took 15-20 min, and to get to the studio took another 10 min roughly. Even if I got out of there right on time, I’d still be late to class, which isn’t tolerated with Rita’s standards. One day, I get there late and Rita asks me why I’m running late. Before I know it, I’m breaking down in tears from all the accumulated stress of trying to be the perfect student for her. I couldn’t take it anymore. She sees me crying and consoles me to let me know it’s ok and ‘of course’ I don’t have to stress about making it on time to a make-up class. She gives me a hug and we move on from there. As I looked back on this exchange years later, it bothered me immensely. I had come to realize the emotional manipulation that took place from being under her authority. She stresses how important it is for me to get to class on time, and once I break down, pretends it doesn’t matter. No apology. No accountability. Nothing. It’s almost as if she enjoys the power of bringing me down, just to be the one to build me back up again. 

I stayed with this instructor all the way up until I graduated high school. I went off to college, one she recommended to me, and began to undo a lot of the damage she had done to me for years in training. By the end of my tenure with Rita, I was mentally, emotionally and physically burned out. I thought I had lost my passion for dance after being beaten down day after day under her leadership. I rediscovered that passion again in college. I thrived in a more encouraging environment, and saw great strides in my technique and personal growth throughout those 4 years. I didn’t know it was possible to feel good about myself and improve my dancing at the same time. Years later when I began therapy, I begun to unpack a lot of the trauma inflicted by Rita, and came to terms with the emotional and mental abuse I faced from her. I allowed myself to start healing, and recognized I don’t have to let her teachings and words weigh heavy upon me for the rest of my life. I could be happy and live free once again. I can successfully say I’ve been able to do that for the past 5 years. I have been healing from those wounds. I live a better life knowing she has no power over me. I can use this motivation to help build a nurturing environment for my students, something Rita could never give me. 

What about you all? Do you have someone who negatively influenced you? How did you overcome it? What are some hard lessons you’ve learned in the process?

[tajmirror]

Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour from Delhi By Taj Mirror Company

Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour from Delhi By Taj Mirror Company

Witnessing the Taj Mahal at sunrise is a unique experience, as the first light of day imparts a golden hue on the famed white marble structure. For those short on time but anxious to experience this magical moment, Taj Mirror Company offers the right answer with their Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour from Delhi. This day tour assures you capture the splendor of the Taj Mahal in the morning glow while allowing you to return to Delhi by sunset.

H1: Why Choose the Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour? The Taj Mahal is magnificent at any time of day, but sunrise carries a special beauty. As the morning mist lifts and the delicate light meets the marble, the monument appears almost ethereal. By picking a sunrise tour, you not only get to enjoy fewer crowds but also the calm and beauty that this time of day delivers. This makes it a popular choice for photographers and vacationers searching for a tranquil experience.

H2: Key Highlights of the Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour Taj Mirror Company has carefully prepared this tour to provide you with a hassle-free experience, giving you ample time to thoroughly immerse yourself in the beauty and history of the Taj Mahal and Agra’s other significant attractions.

Early Morning Pick-Up from Delhi: You will be picked up from your hotel or apartment in Delhi at 2:30 AM, ensuring you reach the Taj Mahal in time for sunrise.

Comfortable Travel by Private Car: Enjoy a smooth, air-conditioned travel from Delhi to Agra in a private car with an experienced driver.

Sunrise at the Taj Mahal: Witness the Taj Mahal drenched in the golden light of dawn, an amazing sight that leaves a lasting memory.

Visit to Agra Fort: After the Taj Mahal, see the Agra Fort, a UNESCO World Heritage site that offers a deep dive into Mughal history.

Optional Visit to Mehtab Bagh: If time permits, you might visit Mehtab Bagh, a lovely garden that offers an alternative view of the Taj Mahal from across the Yamuna River.

Return to Delhi: After a great day of sightseeing, you will be taken back to Delhi, arriving by late afternoon.

H2: Detailed Itinerary for the Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour H3: Early Morning Departure from Delhi

The journey begins with an early morning pick-up from your hotel or apartment in Delhi at around 2:30 AM. Taj Mirror Company ensures that the travel is comfortable, with a clean and air-conditioned car to transport you on the three-hour drive to Agra.

H3: Arrive in Agra and Visit the Taj Mahal

You’ll arrive in Agra about 5:30 AM, just in time for the gates of the Taj Mahal to open for the sunrise. The cold early air, gentle light, and the absence of enormous crowds make this the perfect time to enjoy the Taj Mahal in its full beauty. A knowledgeable tour from Taj Mirror Company will accompany you, delivering intriguing insights into the history and architecture of this renowned edifice. You’ll have plenty of time to roam about, snap photos, and soak in the tranquil ambiance.

H3: Explore Agra Fort

After your visit to the Taj Mahal, the next stop is the neighboring Agra Fort. This huge red sandstone fort was formerly the palace of the Mughal emperors and gives spectacular vistas of the Taj Mahal from its lofty walls. You’ll learn about the significance of this fort in India’s history and see the extraordinary blend of Islamic and Hindu architecture.

H3: Breakfast Break

Following the tour of Agra Fort, you’ll stop at a local eatery for breakfast. Enjoy a traditional Indian breakfast or choose from a menu of continental alternatives to rejuvenate for the remainder of the day.

H3: Optional Visit to Mehtab Bagh

If time permits and you’re interested in seeing the Taj Mahal from a new angle, your guide will take you to Mehtab Bagh. This garden, located across the Yamuna River, gives a calm perspective of the Taj Mahal, especially as the morning advances. It’s an excellent site for photography or simply to sit and absorb the vista.

H3: Return to Delhi

After a day of touring Agra’s sights, you’ll begin your journey back to Delhi. Expect to arrive at your hotel by late afternoon, allowing you plenty of time to unwind or continue with your evening plans in the city.

H2: Why Book with Taj Mirror Company? Taj Mirror Company is dedicated to providing high-quality, unforgettable vacation experiences. Here’s why they are the right pick for your Taj Mahal Sunrise Tour:

Experienced Guides: The company’s guides are knowledgeable and passionate about imparting the rich history of the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort, ensuring you get the most out of your visit.

Comfortable Travel: Taj Mirror Company provides contemporary, air-conditioned vans for a smooth and comfortable ride between Delhi and Agra.

Timely and Efficient: The tour is designed to optimize your time in Agra while ensuring you’re back in Delhi by the afternoon, making it an ideal day trip for anyone on a tight schedule.

Customizable Experience: Taj Mirror Company is adaptable, enabling for alterations in the schedule according on your choices and interests.

H2: Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) H3: 1. How long is the drive from Delhi to Agra?

The drive takes roughly 3-4 hours, depending on traffic circumstances.

H3: 2. Is the entry cost to the Taj Mahal included in the tour?

No, the entry cost is not included in the trip package and must be paid individually at the site.

H3: 3. What should I dress on the tour?

It’s recommended to wear comfortable clothing and walking shoes as you’ll be doing quite a bit of exploration. Morning temperatures can be chilly, so taking a light jacket is suggested.

H3: 4. Can I modify the tour?

Yes, Taj Mirror Company offers for modification of the schedule based on your choices. You can add or skip particular stops depending on your interests.

H3: 5. What time will I be back in Delhi?

You should anticipate to be back in Delhi by late afternoon, usually between 3:00 PM and 4:00 PM.

[classiccatering]

Discover the Perfect Catering for Weddings and Corporate Events in Arizona

When planning an event in Arizona, whether it’s a dream wedding or a crucial corporate meeting, the food you serve plays a vital role in creating a memorable experience. That’s where Classic Catering comes in. Specializing in wedding catering, corporate catering, and Continental breakfast catering, we ensure your guests are treated to delicious, high-quality food that perfectly complements your event.

Why Catering Matters

Food has a unique way of bringing people together. It’s more than just a meal; it’s a shared experience that can set the tone for your entire event. Choosing the right catering service is essential, as it can influence how your guests feel and remember the occasion. Classic Catering is committed to providing an exceptional dining experience, ensuring every bite is as memorable as the event itself.

Wedding Catering: Creating Magical Moments

Your wedding day is one of the most special days of your life, and the food served should reflect the joy and love of the occasion. At Classic Catering, we understand that every wedding is unique, which is why we offer customized wedding catering services tailored to your tastes and preferences.

From intimate gatherings to grand celebrations, we provide a variety of menu options that can be tailored to fit the theme and style of your wedding. Whether you envision a formal sit-down dinner, a buffet-style feast, or a chic cocktail reception, our team will work closely with you to create a menu that not only delights your guests but also complements your overall wedding vision.

Corporate Catering: Impress Your Clients and Colleagues

In the corporate world, details matter, and the quality of the food served at your events can make a significant impression. Classic Catering offers a range of corporate catering services designed to meet the specific needs of businesses in Arizona.

Whether you’re hosting a small business meeting, a large conference, or a team-building event, we provide menu options that are both delicious and appropriate for the occasion. From gourmet box lunches to elegant dinners, we ensure that your corporate event is remembered for all the right reasons. Plus, we offer a Continental breakfast catering option that’s perfect for early morning meetings or seminars, helping your team start the day energized and focused.

Highlight on Continental Breakfast Catering

When it comes to morning events, nothing sets the tone better than a well-prepared breakfast. Classic Catering’s Continental breakfast catering service is designed to offer a delicious and convenient option for early meetings, conferences, or any morning event.

Our Continental breakfast menu includes a variety of light yet satisfying options, such as freshly baked pastries, seasonal fruit platters, yogurt, and premium coffee. This service is ideal for creating a welcoming atmosphere that encourages networking and conversation, all while providing your guests with the energy they need to start their day.

The beauty of a Continental breakfast is in its simplicity and elegance. It’s perfect for those looking to provide a light, easy-to-eat meal without the heaviness of a full breakfast. Whether you’re hosting a morning corporate event or an intimate pre-wedding gathering, our Continental breakfast catering ensures your guests begin their day on a high note.

What Sets Classic Catering Apart?

With so many catering options available, you might wonder what makes Classic Catering the best choice for your event in Arizona. Here are a few reasons why we stand out:

Customization: We understand that every event is unique, and so are your catering needs. We work closely with you to create a menu that reflects your tastes and aligns with your event’s theme and goals.

Fresh, Local Ingredients: Arizona is home to some of the finest local produce, and we take pride in using these fresh ingredients in our dishes. This not only enhances the flavor of our food but also supports local farmers and businesses.

Professional Service: From setup to cleanup, our team is dedicated to providing exceptional service. We handle all the details, so you can focus on enjoying your event and spending time with your guests.

Versatility: Whether you need wedding catering, corporate catering, or Continental breakfast catering, we offer a range of menu options to suit any occasion. Our chefs are skilled in various culinary traditions, ensuring a diverse and satisfying dining experience.

Serving Arizona with Pride

At Classic Catering, we are proud to serve the communities of Arizona. Our commitment to quality, service, and local ingredients has made us a trusted name in the catering industry. Whether you’re planning a wedding, corporate event, or need Continental breakfast catering, we are here to make your event extraordinary. Let us help you create an unforgettable experience for your guests. Contact Classic Catering today to learn more about our services and to start planning your next event in Arizona

[out-and-aboot-eh]

Day 14 - Vancouver Island to Vancouver

I might have given our campsite a bit of stick for its more shabby than chic appearance but in its defence all our stuff was still there when we woke up and no one had been murdered by bears or other guests during the night, so it couldn’t have been too bad! As we’d had our final sleep in the tents, it was time to give them a clean for the next users, now you may recall when we first got out the tent it was soaking wet, so we endeavoured to leave it a bit dryer than we found it, which I think we managed… just! After 2 weeks of nearly every type of weather going, I don’t think I’ll miss the tent life too much, but it did serve us well and kept us dry which is more than I can say for some of the other tents I’ve slept in!

After a continental breakfast, including some big muffins, we packed everything up, but with the bags in a semi-arranged order based on the drop off locations. We made our way to the ferry terminal via a gas station (where I picked up some bbq beef jerky to keep me going!) and headed back to Vancouver. When G and I first talked about visiting Canada, one option (which I vetoed pretty quickly) was to hire a camper van and travel ourselves, one reason being the big city traffic. Up to this point I think we’d have been alright, but even Megan was hating on the traffic and drivers in and around Vancouver. I had flashes of Caleb from Clarkson’s Farm driving in London as she is a self confessed countyry bumpkin who’s only been to these parts a few times! After powering through it was time for our first drop off, as we all bundled out to say farewell to Iain and Mikela, although as most of us would be in Vancouver for a couple more days, there was every chance that it was more of a TTFN. The next drop off, was a mere 3 minute walk from our hotel and everyone got out except NZ Cat, who’d booked a hotel miles away! We were not a tactile group by any means, so it was a first and last hug goodbye, but always a chance that we may regroup later on.

Now I’m not saying we looked out of place when we got to the hotel lobby, huge bags on our backs, walking boots on and looking a big ragged for all our travels, but I think the receptionist may have puked in her mouth a little bit. Our room wasn’t ready (and even if it was they’d probably be running background checks) so we dumped out stuff in storage and borrowed a couple of the hotel��s bikes. One of the perks of going somewhere that has apples on the desk and two types of fruit infused water stations… Our plan, to cycle along the Stanley Park Sea Wall route. The bikes seemed okay, my brakes were a bit squeaky and not the best, but they were free! Our next challenge was to navigate through the traffic to the start of the route, which would involve a lot of traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, whilst avoiding the crazy drivers on the road. We also didn’t have a way of attaching Google Maps to the handle bars, so we had to stop and check directions a few times as there’s no signage for such a popular attraction! Georgie led the way and there was only one small snafu where we were going downhill and long story short, I slammed the brakes to avoid going in to the back of G and went flying arse over tit! Thankfully I’ve got plenty of poutine padding and didn’t come off too badly!

It turns out that half of Vancouver had a similar idea on this sunny afternoon, as it was very busy along the cycle/footpath. There were all modes of movement along the path, including; tandems, rollerblades, scooters, skateboards, a very chunky motorised unicycle and a guy on some springy stilts! There was signage everywhere saying ‘be respectful of others, go slowly’ at least that’s what it said in English. In Canadian I presume it said, welcome to the fast and furious route, pedestrians cross anywhere without looking and ignore the direction of travel ! At the beginning of our route we saw more totem poles and popped in to the gift shop for some more magnets and stickers! From here we stopped at several beaches and little bays, whilst taking in the sites and smells of Vancouver beyond the sea wall. It was an excellent way to see what Stanley Park had to offer in the space of a few hours, but as it was the hottest day in Vancouver that year, a shower was very much needed.

We returned our bikes to the hotel and thankfully there was no truth test about potential damage for crashes. As our room was ready, we hopped in the lift and eagerly made our way to No. 316. If the lobby was anything to go by, we were in for a treat. Although after two weeks of scrabbling around in tents, needing to lock snacks away from bears and trekking to toilets (as we never went for a wild wee 👀) just staying in a room that we could stand up in and wouldn’t blow away would be luxury. However in the words of Rowan Atkinson in Love Actually, “this is much more than just a”… room! We were struck by the cool air-con upon entrance, could smell the essential oil diffuser, see a huge bed with plush pillows and a soft mattress. In a nutshell it was the heaven that had got me through the hell of camping! I’m joking of course… it was the booze. It had one unique feature that I’d never seen before in a room, a shower between the bedroom and the bathroom, should you which to purvey the user! Thankfully there was also a blind to cover it so G didn’t have to see me in uncompromising positions scrubbing every nook and cranny before heading out for some dinner. I did wonder if G would make it back out, as by the time I’d showered, she was already snuggled on the bed in a dressing gown and slippers, with glass of wine in hand!

Jen had recommended a place called Tacofino, which as the name suggests is renowned for its tacos and other Mexican food! G opted for a fish taco, which was tasty but one of the smaller portions we’ve had out here, especially compared to my beef burrito which was as full as a little egg (as Daisy would say!) rounded off with a side of tater tots and washed down with a larger/cider. Vancouver has a huge number of places to eat and drink, but one we had to try as we’re a couple of basic bitches was Dairy Queen, which most fortuitously was only a 5 minute waddle away. The Dusanjhs (friends from back home) said we had to try a ‘Blizzard’ although I was more excited by the prospect of what looked like the old McDonald’s toffee sundae! G claimed my excitement made me look like a mad man, so she covered for me by saying we’re tourists and it was our first time here, at which point the confused lady said “well then you’ve got to try a blizzard, as that’s what we’re known for!” G was supposed to get a mini one, but accidentally ordered the small instead.. and even a small is similar to a Ben & Jerry’s tub! I opted for rolo, G went for cookie dough. Despite belly aching about how much there was and bellies aching after, we still both managed to finish them before heading back to our new digs.

Georgie’s highlight of the day: Getting to the hotel room, fresh shower, dressing gown and clean sheets!

[copperleaf1]

Relax & Recharge: Book Your Perfect Room Stay at Copper Leaf (Tirunelveli)

In this blog we have to explore the importance of choosing the Hotels in Tirunelveli, Top Hotels in Tirunelveli, Family Hotel in Tirunelveli, Best Hotel in Tirunelveli, Hotels near Tirunelveli, Best hotels in tirunelveli.

Planning a trip to the vibrant city of Tirunelveli and searching for the perfect room stay? Look no further than Copper Leaf Hotels! We understand that your room stay in Tirunelveli is more than just a place to sleep at night. It’s your sanctuary after a day of exploring ancient temples, bustling markets, or serene gardens. At Copper Leaf Hotels, we focus on creating unforgettable room stays in Tirunelveli, offering exceptional service, a convenient location, and comfortable accommodations designed to make your experience truly relaxing and hassle-free.

Why Choose Copper Leaf Hotels for Your Perfect Room Stay in Tirunelveli?

Relaxation Begins in Your Room:

Unlike some basic room stays in Tirunelveli, Copper Leaf Hotels provides well-maintained rooms designed with your comfort in mind. Our clean and inviting spaces feature all the essentials you need for a restful stay, including air-conditioning to keep you cool, Wi-Fi to stay connected, and plush bedding to ensure a good night’s sleep. Imagine stepping back into your haven after a day of exploration, ready to unwind and recharge for the next adventure.

Fuel Up for Exploration with a Delicious Breakfast:

Every perfect room stay in Tirunelveli starts with a delicious breakfast to energize you for a day of discovery. At Copper Leaf Hotels, we offer a complimentary breakfast featuring a variety of local and international options. Whether you crave a light and refreshing continental breakfast or a warm and hearty South Indian spread, we have something to tantalize your taste buds and set you up for a successful day of exploring.

Prime Location for Convenience and Exploration:

The location of your room stay in Tirunelveli plays a significant role in shaping your overall experience. Copper Leaf Hotels boasts a prime location in KTC Nagar, placing you right in the heart of the city. This central hub allows you to explore Tirunelveli with ease. A variety of shops, restaurants, and cafes are all within walking distance, eliminating the need for taxis or public transportation during your stay. This not only saves you money but allows you to experience the city’s vibrant atmosphere firsthand.

Unwind and Savor Delicacies On-Site:

After a day of exploring, you might not be in the mood to venture out for dinner. At Copper Leaf Hotels, your room stay extends beyond just the room itself. We feature an on-site restaurant, allowing you to unwind and savor delectable meals prepared with fresh, local ingredients. This allows you to enjoy a delightful dining experience without having to go far — perfect for those evenings when you just want to relax in the comfort of your room stay.

Exceptional Service for a Memorable Experience:

At Copper Leaf Hotels, we believe that exceptional service is crucial to a perfect room stay in Tirunelveli. Our friendly and attentive staff is dedicated to making your stay enjoyable from the moment you check-in. We’re happy to provide recommendations for local attractions, assist with booking tours, or answer any questions you may have about the city. Our goal is to ensure you feel comfortable, welcome, and well-cared for throughout your stay in Tirunelveli.

Book Your Perfect Room Stay at Copper Leaf Hotels Today!

Don’t settle for an ordinary room stay in Tirunelveli. Choose Copper Leaf Hotels for a comfortable and convenient haven, exceptional service, a prime location, and amenities that elevate your experience. Browse our website or contact us today to book your perfect room stay at Copper Leaf Hotels and make your Tirunelveli adventure truly unforgettable!

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For more details visit our website: www.copperleafhotels.com

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[railrecipee]

Flavors of the Journey: RailRecipe Food in Train Delicacies

Hop aboard the flavor train with RailRecipe food in train service! Say goodbye to bland train food and hello to a culinary adventure that will tantalize your taste buds and leave you craving more. With a diverse menu featuring customer favorites and a commitment to quality and convenience, RailRecipe is your ticket to delicious dining on the go.

Let's start with breakfast, the most important meal of the day. Picture waking up to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the scent of warm, buttery croissants. Indulge in fluffy idlis served with tangy sambar and coconut chutney, or opt for crispy dosas with a side of flavorful chutneys. Not in the mood for Indian cuisine? No problem! RailRecipe offers a range of continental breakfast options, from fluffy omelets to crispy toast and fruit platters. Whatever your preference, RailRecipe ensures that your day begins on a delicious note.

As lunchtime approaches, RailRecipe continues to impress with its mouthwatering selection of customer favorites. Dive into a plate of fragrant biryani, bursting with spices and tender pieces of meat or vegetables. Craving something lighter? Enjoy a traditional thali with a variety of curries, dals, and accompaniments that showcase the rich diversity of Indian cuisine. And don't forget to save room for dessert! RailRecipe offers a tempting array of sweet treats, from traditional Indian sweets like gulab jamun to indulgent cakes and pastries.

But the culinary adventure doesn't end there. RailRecipe also offers a tempting selection of snacks and beverages to keep hunger at bay between meals. Crispy pakoras, spicy chaat, and steaming cups of masala chai are just a few of the options available to satisfy your cravings. And with convenient online ordering and prompt delivery, you can enjoy delicious snacks and beverages without ever having to leave your seat.

But don't just take our word for it. Here's what some of our satisfied customers have to say:

RailRecipe has completely transformed my train journeys. No longer do I have to settle for bland and uninspiring train food. With RailRecipe, I can enjoy delicious, restaurant-quality meals right in the comfort of my own seat. Their biryanis are always a hit with me, and their breakfast options never disappoint. RailRecipe has become an essential part of my travel experience!" - Neha, frequent traveler

I travel often for work, and RailRecipe has been a lifesaver for me. Their food is not only delicious but also convenient and easy to order. I love their wide range of options, from traditional Indian dishes to international favorites. And with their prompt delivery service, I never have to worry about going hungry on long train journeys. RailRecipe has definitely made my travels more enjoyable!" - Arjun, satisfied customer

RailRecipe has made train travel so much more enjoyable for me. Their food is always fresh, flavorful, and delivered right on time. I particularly love their selection of snacks and desserts, which are perfect for satisfying my cravings between meals. RailRecipe has become my go-to choice for train travel, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for delicious and convenient dining options on the go!" - Priya, happy diner

With reviews like these, it's clear that RailRecipe is the top choice for food in train services. So the next time you find yourself on a train journey, don't settle for mediocre meals. Treat yourself to the delicious flavors of RailRecipe and make your journey a culinary delight!

[udo0stories]

Posted: 3/1/2024 | March 1st, 2024 Most visitors to Australia begin their journey in Sydney. The largest city in the nation, with nearly 20% of the population residing here, it offers fantastic beaches, an exciting nightlife, and a plethora of museums and galleries. Since I started going there in 2007, every time I go, I have a great time. I cannot get enough of Sydney's beauty, especially the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. Although there is a lot to do in the city, it is a little dispersed. That means picking the right place to stay is important. Over the years, I’ve stayed at countless hotels. There’s a lot in the city, and picking one can be overwhelming. Here’s my list of the best hotels in Sydney: 1. Mercantile Hotel This three-star hotel is situated in the iconic Rocks neighborhood and is only five minutes' walk from both the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. The fact that it is home to Australia's oldest Irish pub, where you can regularly enjoy live music with your pint, is something I particularly like about it. This is a mid-range hotel with straightforward, utilitarian rooms. The beds are comfy and the rooms are spacious, but they are not particularly artistic or distinctive. Each room has air conditioning, free Wi-Fi, and a coffee/tea maker. Despite their small size, the bathrooms are kept up nicely and are in good working order. There are plenty of options nearby, but breakfast is not offered. You still get good value, but location is prioritized over amenities here. It is the most affordable place to stay in The Rocks. 2. Coogee Bay Boutique Hotel Located in the beachy neighborhood of Coogee Bay, southeast of the city, is this airy four-star hotel. I adore that it only takes two minutes to walk from the hotel to the beach. This hotel features large, light-filled rooms with beachy décor and colors. The rooms also feature minibars, coffee and tea makers, desks, and flat-screen TVs. The bathrooms are spacious as well, and the showers have strong water pressure. In addition to a sports bar and cocktail bar decorated in art deco style, the hotel offers breakfast at its beachside bar and grill. There is also private parking available if you drive, which is uncommon in the city. This hotel is ideal for those seeking a more tranquil and stress-free stay. 3. Crystalbrook Albion This five-star luxury hotel in Surry Hills is housed in a stunning brick heritage building that was formerly a convent, just south of the city center. The property has a sophisticated design that draws influence from the 1920s and 1970s. The outcome is stylish and eclectic. The vibrant artwork throughout the lobby, lounge, and hallways is something I really enjoy. Although every room is different, they are all spacious, light-filled, and well-ventilated. In addition to large, comfortable beds, the rooms feature desks, coffee and tea makers, flat-screen TVs, and luxurious bathrobes. Together with large rain showers and boutique design elements like vibrantly tiled walls, the bathrooms are roomy and light. There is also a cool rooftop terrace, and a big selection of freshly baked pastries is served at breakfast every morning. This is a very chic and elegant hotel, which is great if you want to splurge. 4. Glasgow Arms Hotel Above this lovely old pub is where you will find this hotel. Although it lacks style and has somewhat of an outdated design, the hotel offers a complimentary continental breakfast every morning and is conveniently located just a five-minute walk from Darling Harbour. The pub food is excellent, the staff goes above and beyond to make you feel welcome, and it is more of a low-key place to crash. Despite their lack of size, the rooms are well-lit and filled with natural light. Each has a desk, a flat-screen TV, and complimentary Wi-Fi. Despite being somewhat small, the bathrooms feature lovely showers with excellent water pressure. This is an excellent option for budget-conscious and straightforward travelers because everything is tidy and cozy.

5. The Darling at The Star This enormous five-star hotel has more than 20 bars and restaurants, a spa, and a casino. Not only is there a heated outdoor swimming pool (complete with its own bar), but I also really like that they have Turkish baths. There are not many options for breakfast, but what is available is excellent. If you drive, the hotel also offers a valet parking service. All in all, the atmosphere is closer to a resort than a typical hotel. The rooms are roomy and bright, with an abundance of natural light. Aside from their many amenities, which include desks, minibars, comfy bathrobes, flatscreen TVs, and Egyptian cotton sheets, they also have a sleek, contemporary design. The bathrooms feature large bathtubs and marble accents, and they are also light and airy. This hotel is ideal if you are looking for luxury in the center of the city. 6. Hotel Bondi This three-star boutique hotel has both private and shared balconies with sprawling views overlooking the popular Bondi Beach. Everything is modern, and the design has a simple, minimalist feel. The rooms are large and bright and include everything you need (Wi-Fi, desk, TV, coffee/tea maker). There are deluxe rooms with kitchen facilities too, if you want to cook your own meals (though there’s also a restaurant on-site). While the hotel itself isn’t anything to write home about, the price for the location is fantastic. After all, Bondi Beach is right across the street! 7. Sydney Potts Point Situated five minutes away from the vibrant Kings Cross nightlife, this four-star apartment hotel offers a rooftop terrace with city views. In addition to the kitchenettes found in the majority of the rooms, the rooftop has BBQ facilities for those who prefer to cook outside. As for amenities, rooms have a desk, fridge, flatscreen TV, and coffee/tea maker. The beds have thick mattresses and are really comfy. The rooms have lots of space and light too (the bathrooms are kind of small, though). There’s no breakfast offered, but with a kitchenette, you can easily prepare your own food. It’s not a super fancy place, but everything is well-maintained, and there’s even some art in each room. I like that everything feels modern and clean here.

[shaunsummers]

Even in the anesthetic afterglow, Tek didn't miss the smug expression on Siren's face. "It's been a minute..." She murmurs in defense and embarrassment, but still shuffles closer to wrap her arms around Siren's neck, burying her face in the open space. Tek soaks in the pleasantness of their embrace as she tries to calm her breathing, placing a soft kiss at the skin so near her lips. Internally, she was already planning reciprocation when she could manage to move again. But right now? She was doubting the ability to.

[THE MORNING AFTER...]

Tek's eyes open in narrow slits as the sunlight outside begins to creep into the room. She was still tangled in Siren's arms; apparently, she'd drifted asleep after all the energy she'd sapped away. And it was nice, really. It wasn't Tek's intention that last night would happen how it had, but it did. You started it. She mulls in mild amusement, but was still a bit frustrated she couldn't return the favor. Her mission from the get was to show her a good weekend, how much she cared, how much she missed her friend. Especially now, knowing what she knew. Details weren't divulged, but she was with Ash. A few years ago, Tek knew she was bad news, but time had given her a better, more fitting word. Abusive. Sadly, from the front seat she got to Shaun's relationship, she could imagine what Siren had been through. How unloved she had to feel. The night's events on top of that? It only made her determined to double down on her efforts. What better way to show it than a thoughtfully prepared continental breakfast with a side of—evidentally—award-winning oral? For Siren? It made all the sense.

Tek knew there was no sneaking out of her arms without waking her, so she leans in to press a soft kiss against Siren's cheek, trailing her fingers gently back into her hair. "I'm going to make us breakfast..." She whispers quietly and sneaks in a few more pecks, giving Siren an affectionate squeeze before finally starting to move out of her grasp. "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when it's ready." Tek flashes a warm smile towards her barely open eyes before clothing herself; she had her fancy moment already, so now it was time to be comfy. Slipping on a Batman shirt with accompanying pajama bottoms, she shuffles out towards the kitchen with a marked pep in her step. Devin piled on the couch with all of the dogs didn't escape her notice—she would do her best to be quiet—but Tek also knew she wouldn't mind if she woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It spurred another realization that she should probably just make enough for everyone. Maybe some eggs, too. And coffee. Coffee was good. And doing quick inventory to make sure she had everything she needed—and getting a big pot of coffee started in the maker—she set to work. They brought chocolate chips? I'm using them. Screw it, everyone was getting a happy face special, whether they liked it or not.

Except the oral. Only one person was getting that. That involuntary thought made her feel weird.

Reunited, and It's in the Woods!

Meeting the arch of her hips in their surrender, Siren captures her in a slow, open mouthed kiss as the grip around her thighs holds her in place. That look in Tek's eyes, it humored her. It wasn't as if she wasn't enjoying every minute of it, though, and they did have to make up for lost time, didn't they? So, with a heated breath, her lips part to bring forth a hot drag of her tongue, using each involuntary twitch as guide; her own muscles tensing in the taste of her.

----

Tek takes a sharp breath as Siren's mouth envelops her, tightening her grip in her hair as a broken, poorly repressed moan escapes her. Electricity courses up her entire body at the increasingly precise search for her spot, and it was driving her fucking mad. "Please...." Whether it was to stop or go forward, she couldn't make sense of; she was having trouble thinking of anything under the exquisite torture. Tek couldn't remember her being this quick, this skillful to drive her so directly and urgently to the brink. They had only slept together once; maybe it had been a while, maybe it was all the substances coursing through her body, maybe it was just Siren, but....holy shit.

She could already feel it collecting within her, and it was fast, so fast. Tek relinquishes one of her hands to clasp it tightly over her mouth, fearing the volume already working in the back of her throat. Her thighs lock suddenly around her head, arching hard up into Siren's tongue as she shakes in the force of yet another orgasm, muffling a loud cry desperately into her skin. What the fuck...

[sunlightmurdock]

Safe Zone | 0.3 | Jake Seresin / Bradley Bradshaw AU

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Warnings: throughout the fic - gore, death, violence and pretty graphic mentions of all things zombie related, love triangle, smut (18+, minors dni), angst etc. A zombie gets stabbed in the eye in this chapter, it’s brief but worth mentioning

…

“That hair’s getting pretty long, Floyd,” Cyclone comments, looking disapprovingly across the rec room at Bob. “It’s out of code.”

Jake looks up from his breakfast. Like code matters anymore. He’s setting up to go and clear a fresh load of bodies from the perimeter, Bob’s long hair doesn’t seem like a pressing issue.

“My wife cuts my hair, sir.” Bob answers calmly, without looking up from his own breakfast. His voice is quiet, but calm. In the beginning, his voice would tremble at the mention of her.

People quickly learned not to bring her up.

Cyclone looks down at his coffee and swallows. The silence in the room feels suddenly much louder.

“Right. I’ll be at the front gate.” He mutters, turning and walking away.

Bob’s wife isn’t dead. He’s the only one that knows for certain about one of their loved ones. She was back in South Carolina when this happened, she’s stuck there, he’s stuck here.

One of Bob’s primary jobs around here is to make and keep contact with the active safe zones around the country. He was distraught for the first week, checking with every camp in South Carolina until she turned up. She’s safe in the Charleston safe zone - but she’s still there and he’s still there.

Phoenix is pretty sure her family are at the Tucson safe zone. Jake’s confident that his parents would have gotten his sisters and nephews safely to the one outside of Austin.

“Easy enough for him to act like everything’s normal - his family’s here.” Phoenix mutters dejectedly, shaking her head. Bob gives her a soft smile for always standing up for him.

Cyclone lived in the area. He and a bunch of the higher ups got their families here safely. They were living in the officer’s building, until Hondo’s youngest daughter’s crying started keeping everyone up and people were falling asleep on watch.

Now, families stay in the west wing, singles get the building to the east. Bob’s in the west for now, but he has a place earmarked in the east for when his wife gets here. She’s pregnant.

“I miss my mom’s cooking.” Fanboy agrees.

“I miss my vibrator.” Phoenix scoffs. All eyes turn towards her at once. She looks up and frowns, remembering her company. She’s the only girl that stuck around when everything went to shit that isn’t in the west wing, “Open your mouth, Yale, and I’ll snap it off.”

Jake chuckles, standing up and dropping his plate into the sink. It’s someone else’s job to clean that up. The sun’s coming up as he crosses base to go and meet his team.

He turns his head to see Rooster coming out of the control tower. Followed by you. You yawn softly and stretch your neck. Your eyes meet Jake’s. His smiles slightly at the way your face drops, knowing you’re caught. Another thing he could tell on you for if he wanted to.

“Mornin’.” Jake calls out, lifting his hand and waving at you. It’s just to let you both know that he’s there and that he isn’t afraid of being loud.

It’s a falsely friendly gesture. Fucking Bradshaw got to you first. It’s fine, he can see the distance between the two of you - you’re practically yawning. Jake hasn’t lost yet.

Rooster gives him a nod of acknowledgement and then looks back to you, ignoring Jake almost completely. Your eyes linger on Jake’s, he shoots you a quick wink as he passes by.

He’s pissed off. Rooster convinced you to sign up, and he’s already trying to take you under his stupid fucking flightless wing. Jake’s glad he’s on body patrol this morning because he’s got a little anger to get out.

“Wasn’t so bad, right?” Rooster asks as he locks the door behind him.

“Was kind of boring, actually.” You tell him.

He smiles, then nods. “You an adrenaline junkie or something?”

You give a soft shrug of your shoulders, “Maybe.”

He stares at you, lips quirked up just slightly. You’re familiar with the look that he’s giving you. He makes no effort to hide the fact that he likes you. The world ended, what’s the point in pretending anymore?

“So, how’d you feel about picking up some shifts?” Rooster asks.

You purse your lips, still unsure. He’s spent the past five hours discussing the pros and cons with you. It would get you out of the room more.

“I guess there are worse ways I could spend my time.” You answer.

Rooster happily takes care of the enrollment for you, and of course volunteers himself to be your trainer. Cyclone insists that any civilians that will be taking on Navy duties will have one on one training — Rooster couldn’t be happier to abide by the rule.

You get started that afternoon. You both sleep off the ache of last night’s all-nighter for the morning and regroup at 1pm in front of the information centre.

Rooster looks you up and down as you reach him.

“Cyclone’s probably going to want you in uniform once you’re doing real shifts.” He notes, standing before you in what all of them seem to wear.

They each walk around in some variation of a navy working uniform. Some of them in the sea coveralls, some of them in military typical greens. Whatever they have, you guess.

You usually stick to shorts and some kind of t-shirt or tank top. That’s about all you can bear in this heat. It feels hotter this summer.

“I’ll drop some by your place tonight.” He looks down at his clipboard as he says it. This is a test. You spent all of last night brushing off his advances, keeping all conversation strictly platonic.

Now, he’s waiting to see if you’ll correct him here. You let it slide. It’s important to pick your battles, and having a tall brunette with pretty eyes offer to go out of his way to bring you uniform doesn’t seem like something to argue about.

Besides, he can swoon over you all he wants — it doesn’t mean a thing to you either way.

“How familiar are you with base? — I see you walking around often enough that I figure you know where most stuff is, right?” Rooster checks, lifting his sunglasses up onto his head as he looks down at the clipboard Hondo gave him.

You take a step closer and crane your neck to look over the checklist. All basic stuff. Arms training is at the bottom of the list — Luke’s going to be so jealous.

“Yeah, I know my way around.” You agree.

He dips a hand into the pocket of his cargos and pulls out a pen, ticking off the first point on the list. The second is shift posts.

“Okay — I’ll start off by showing you where each of the posts are, we can talk a little about what you do at each of them.”

“Sounds good.” You agree again.

Rooster holds the clipboard by his side and walks you through each of the sixteen posts. Everything in base first: the control tower, the warehouse, the food hall - all of the places with the highest traffic.

You pass by what used to be the Top Gun building, now repurposed to be a makeshift highschool class. You squint as you look through the windows.

“Look at that idiot.” You mutter. Rooster turns his head, finding your brother sitting at the back of the class, balancing a pencil above his top lip - he laughs softly. The girl next to Luke giggles and leans into his side.

“Oh shit.” Rooster’s smile drops quickly. He keeps walking and shakes his head, “That’s Admiral Simpson’s kid. You should warn him.”

You frown and look back to Rooster, “Is Admiral Simpson the scary one?”

“That guy.” Rooster points to the front gate. Your eyes focus on the older man, standing at the top of the wall, screaming orders at a young ensign. You wince. Rooster chuckles at your reaction.

“You and your brother seem pretty close.” He comments, walking right by the gate without doing much explaining at all. It’s clear to you that he’s not showing you around because he cares a great deal about the work you’ll be doing around here.

He just wants to get closer to you. You’re onto him every step of the way.

“Someone’s got to keep an eye on him.” You reply.

He nods, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He figures that it’s probably not his place to say anything - and that even if it was his place, you probably wouldn’t want to hear it.

“So, who keeps an eye on you?” Bradley asks. You turn your head to look at him as he walks you to the south wall post. He’s a little red from being in the sun too long, his curls messy from constantly running his fingers through them. He’s handsome - and that black t-shirt is tight enough for you to be able to tell that his body would be just as pleasant to look at.

Before this, you probably would have gone for him. He’s definitely the kind of guy you would have let buy you a drink and tell you that you’re pretty. Back then.

“I do.” You reply calmly, your chin lifted, looking him in the eye.

Bradley’s lips quirk, amused by your response. “Yeah, but - everyone needs a wingman, right?”

You almost laugh. You stare at him, then shake your head, “And you’re going to be my wingman?” He shrugs his shoulders, then smiles sweetly at you. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.

Jake’s sitting on top of the platform on the south wall, one of his legs dangling down the outside. He glances down as something nudges his boot. He rolls his eyes. The decaying hand reaches for his ankle again. He looks down and stares into its eyes.

Her mouth hangs open and gaunt, growling dully as she claws at the side of the corrugated metal, occasionally grazing his leg. She’s dark-haired and torn open around the stomach. If Jake had to guess, he’d say that her eyes used to be green.

They dullen the longer that they’re dead. Still a bloodshot red where white used to be, her skin is dirty and flaked with drying blood. He looks up, checking the beach. He’s pretty far from the road blocks. This post is usually just to keep an eye on the coast.

The dead usually don’t make it this far up, he isn’t sure where she came from. It doesn’t phase him. He pushes himself up so that he’s on his knees and pulls his knife from his pocket. He doesn’t have one of those spear things Fanboy made here with him.

He holds the railing to the platform with one hand and leans forwards. Her hands reach up eagerly for his face, broken nails caked in dirt and dried blood extending towards his skin. Jake half-winces at the smell. He leans closer, she just about catches his collar.

Jake’s blade pushes through her eye until it’s submerged at the hilt. She sinks to the floor at the base of the wall. Jake pulls back up and wipes his knife off on the calf of his pant leg.

“Hey, Hangman.”

He turns his head, raising an eyebrow. Rooster lifts his palm and waves. Jake folds the switchblade in half and slips it back into his pocket as he looks between the two of you. No one calls him Hangman anymore.

“Bird boy.” Jake answers back. Rooster laughs. Jake turns to look at you, giving you a nod of acknowledgement. You nod back. “Takin’ the afternoon off, Bradshaw?”

Rooster lifts his official looking clipboard, “Showing the newest member of the team around, actually.”

Jake raises his eyebrows, “You signed up.”

You nod once more, but don’t answer him. He lifts the length of rope from in front of him and pulls it into his lap, biting down on the toothpick as he unties the knot he had made earlier.

Static crackles on Rooster’s radio.

“Uh… Rooster, we’ve got an incident in Block B. Could you get over here?” One of Rooster’s staff calls for his help over channel three.

Rooster turns his attention to look at you. “Fuck - I have to go handle that… uh-“

You look at him and nod. He has this look on his face like he’s willing to let that situation escalate if it means he’ll get to stay here with you. Your brows furrow slightly as you wait for him to leave.

“I can keep an eye on her.” Jake offers.

You look up at him, and then back at Rooster. Bradley gives a small ‘up to you’ type shrug. Jake grins, passing the toothpick between his teeth, “Alright, Trouble - come on over.”

Rooster stares at him for a moment. You grab the ladder and pull yourself up onto the platform, sitting down with your legs dangling over the edge, into camp.

“I’ll be right back.” Rooster swears. You nod at him, then lean back on your palms. You and Jake sit together and watch him jog towards Block B. Once he’s out of view, you turn your head to look at Jake.

You’re met with green eyes for just a second, before Jake looks down and continues to work with the rope in his hands. You turn your head and look out over the coast. You can see it from the window in your room, but it’s been almost three months since you saw the ocean without a window in front of it.

You take a deep breath. You look down, lips parting slightly. Jake glances up, catching you frozen and staring over the edge of the wall. He follows your gaze down.

“You know her or something?” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

You turn your head and frown at him. He’s smirking. You stare.

“No, but - that’s still a dead person.”

Jake shrugs, “You get used to it.”

You think back to the beginning. The things that you saw in the days before you got here. That sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach burns up your sternum and sits on your chest until the heat of it makes you shiver.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” You mutter, shaking off that cold feeling. Seeing them brings it all back. Jake glances up, cocking an eyebrow at you. He hadn’t been expecting you to be so phased by it.

“Did you lose someone?” Jake asks. He has always been one to put a foot over the line. He knows it’s a personal question, and he knows that it’s a disrespectful way to ask. He doesn’t even bother to look up at you as he says it.

But you did just spend the past twenty-four hours in Bradshaw’s shadow, so Jake figures you won’t mind the coldness.

You take the other length of rope and begin to copy what he’s doing. It’s a sailing knot, and a fairly complicated one at that. You run through his exact movements. Jake watches as you copy him.

“You’ve been here since the beginning.” Jake recalls - you’re in Block C, that was the first block to be filled. That means you got here within the first week. You’re higher up, likely to have arrived within the first four days after the evacuation order. “Did you lose someone before you got here?”

“Luke! Put me down!”

You’re interrupted by a shrill giggle. You both look up in unison as a group of teenagers spill out of the Top Gun south classroom. Luke’s got his arms around a girl’s middle, lifting her off the ground as she squeals.

Jake’s lips quirk as he realises who your brother is holding.

“Does he know who that is?” Jake asks softly. You’re glad that the subject has changed. You watch, unimpressed as Luke sets her back on her feet and drapes himself over her.

“No.”

“Do you?” Jake smirks. He lifts his head and squints over towards the front gate. Beau’s facing the remnants of the city, his back to the mess happening behind him.

“Rooster told me.” You nod.

Delilah Simpson bites her lip, grinning as she shoves playfully at Luke’s chest. Luke pulls her closer again and leans in closer to talk to her. Jake watches the situation unfold.

He could intervene, but after you had yelled at him yesterday, he just lets it happen. He knows that Luke’s going to get his ass kicked if her Dad sees them together.

Delilah blushes as she agrees to meet Luke later that night. He smiles, then turns back to walk back over to his friends without noticing you or Jake watching him.

“Hey, Luke!”

You both look up. Jake’s brows furrow slightly as he spots Rooster walking back towards the grass. Rooster holds up a round leather soccer ball, then smiles.

“Hey, you found our ball!” Luke grins as he walks over to meet Rooster halfway. Rooster tosses it to him, then looks up, his eyes landing on you, waiting for your approval.

“Fucking asskisser.” Jake scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He glances up to find you staring at him.

Your lips are quirked just slightly. He’s surprised to find you amused by the comment. You’re about to smile. The corners of your mouth hint at a grin, then falter as you compose yourself, looking back down as you focus on tying the knot that he’s showing you.

“Oh, you liked that one?” Jake notices, his own lips quirking slightly in response. You don’t answer him, continuing to focus on your work.

“If you’re looking for jokes about Bradshaw, I’ve got hundreds, honey — just say the word.”

“I’m not your honey.” You reply calmly, fingers working nimbly around the rope. You’re getting the hang of it pretty well. Jake smiles at you.

“Are you his?” Jake taunts, knowing it’ll draw a reaction from you to imply that you belong to anyone at all. And it does. Works like a charm. You look up at him, furious at the insinuation.

You notice the smirk of anticipation toying on all of his features at once, not just his lips. Just as much in his eyes. You’re quick to realise that you were about to play right into his hands.

“Maybe if I’m a good girl, he might let me be.” You reply, knowing it would draw an equal reaction from him to imply that you’re interested in screwing his friend. Works like a charm. The amusement slips from Jake’s face, intrigue remains in its place.

He really can’t tell if you like Rooster or not. It’s even more difficult to figure out how you feel about him.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Jake decides, after six attempts of watching you tie and loosen it just fine. He moves forward and takes the rope from you. It’s an excuse to get closer and remind you that he knows what he’s doing and you don’t.

You watch calmly as he does the same thing over again. You mimic his movements and wind up with the exact same knot as before.

“That’s better.” Jake lies. It was already fine to begin with, but now he knows you’ll follow instructions.

…

@shawnsblue @cowboybarbie @perpetuelledaydreaming @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @laluneveillesureux @cherrycola27 @momc95 @abaker74 @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeleah @bioodforbiood

[partypoisonzz]

i'll be your detonator (frank iero x reader smut)

Kinktober Day 6: Sex Toys/Public Sex

Era: Danger Days (2010)

Reader Pronouns: She/her

Content:

- Antics with a remote controlled vibrator

- Overstimulation

- Praise kink

- More domestic bliss because I can't stop myself

Word Count: 3,799

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult, for adults. If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact.

-

It starts long before the show even begins.

"Hey, babe." You step into the hotel room after your morning shower, clad only in your bra and panties.

Frank looks up from his phone, only for his eyes to go wide at the sight of you. "Well. Good morning to me."

You laugh. "Don't get excited," you tell him. "I have all intentions of getting dressed. But first..." You turn a slow circle at the foot of the bed. "These are new. You like them?"

You feel his eyes raking over your body, taking in the lacy bra and panties. He's practically salivating. "Fuck yeah, I do."

You can't help but laugh. That's the exact response that you expected from your husband. "I thought you would."

Frank lets out a surprised yelp as you climb into his lap. "H-hey," he stammers. "I thought you said you were getting dressed?"

"I'm going to," you reply easily as you straddle his hips. "But first..."

You push him down against the bed, inspiring a quiet groan to climb up his throat. You grin down at him. Christ, he's easy.

He stares up at you, hazel eyes clouded with lust. Still, he attempts to argue. "Babe," he starts. "The guys are expecting us to be at breakfast in fifteen minutes. I don't think..."

You reach down, swiping his cell phone from where it fell out of his hand.

He looks up at you quizzically as your fingers tap against the screen. "What are you..."

"You'll see."

As soon as the app finishes downloading, you open it and shove the phone back into Frank's hand. "Here."

He squints at the screen. "Vibration intensity?" he reads aloud. "What is..."

Suddenly, the realization seems to dawn. His eyes go wide. "Oh," he says. "Holy shit. Is this..."

"Mmm-hmm." You lean in to kiss him before pulling away to whisper in his ear. "I bought it before the tour started. Figured now would be just as good a time as any to test it out."

"Fuck," he mutters. "So you mean, you've got it, like... on you, right now?"

You chuckle. "Turns out those little fabric pouches in my underwear are actually good for something."

He nearly drops his phone as he scrolls through the app's menu, hands trembling slightly with excitement. "It's Bluetooth, right? So, if I pair it with my phone..."

"You can control it," you finish.

"Like this?"

Before you even fully register what's happening, you feel the unmistakable sensation of harsh vibrations against your pussy.

"Fuck," you curse. "Yeah, yeah. Like that."

Frank grins like the cat who caught the canary as he presses the button again, causing the vibrations to cease.

You huff out a shaky breath. "Don't turn it on high immediately, Frank, Jesus Christ," you chastise him. "Are you trying to kill me?"

He giggles. "Hey, you gave me the controls." He presses another kiss to your lips before nudging you. "Now, come on and get dressed. We can continue this at breakfast."

-

He makes good on that promise.

As soon as you sit down at the table in the hotel dining room, plate filled with various items from the continental breakfast bar, you feel a telltale buzzing sensation. Mercifully, it's a lot gentler that the setting that Frank put it on earlier, but you know that it won't stay that way for long.

You look up across the table, catching Frank's eye. He smiles sweetly at you before returning his attention to his food.

And, by the feel of it, his phone, which he must be holding under the table.

You struggle not to react as the pleasure builds up within you. You attempt to focus on anything else, — your food, the sun shining through the window, the back-and-forth conversation that the men around the table are currently engaged in.

"That shit that you did to me the other night was not cool, man," Ray says, casting a disdainful look in Frank's direction.

"What?" Frank asks, feigning innocence in more ways than one as he eats his fruit salad.

"The Criss Angel thing!" Ray replies.

Frank shrugs, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "That guy looked just like him."

"I mean, yeah, he did," Ray agrees. "But it wasn't actually him. And, even if it was, that gave you no right to steal my beer while I was distracted."

"It was fuckin' hilarious, though," Gerard chimes in.

Ray frowns, arms crossed over his chest. "It was the second time he did that to me in one night."

Frank shrugs. "At that point, it's on you for falling for it again."

Ray rolls his eyes. "Nice." He looks over at Mikey. "You gonna back me up on this?"

Mikey appears to think for a moment before sipping his coffee nonchalantly. "It was kind of funny."

"Great." Ray throws up his hands. "It's me. I'm the scapegoat of the band. This is wonderful news..."

The vibration intensity goes up again as you reach for your own mug. You gasp, unwittingly grabbing onto the edge of the table.

Ray gives you a look of concern. "You okay?" he asks.

The vibrations ease off, going back to the low setting that you had started with. You can feel Frank's eyes on you, urging you to explain it all away.

"Fine," you manage, face burning. "I've just got... a cramp. In my leg." You chuckle awkwardly, attempting to act as though you can't feel your fucking pulse between your thighs. "Riding around in the bus made me stiff, I guess."

"I've got some Advil," Gerard says. "I can go back to my room and get it, if you need..."

"No, no." You attempt to relax, releasing your hold on the edge of the table. "I'll be fine. Just gotta... walk it off."

"Alright, then. Suit yourself." Gerard returns his attention to sawing his pancakes into bite-sized pieces.

Once everyone else at the table seems to be focused on something other than you, you look up at Frank. You cast him a warning glare as you reach for your mug once again, lifting it up to your lips with trembling hands.

-

The bus ride to the venue is absolutely hellish. Frank sits next to you, chatting with the other guys and casting occasional glances down at his phone.

Your eyes follow his, watching helplessly as he ups the setting. You can't exactly argue with him, nor can you react the way that you want to as the vibrator hums against you. You just bite your tongue and tense your thighs, trying with every bit of you to be quiet and act natural.

Maybe this was a bad idea, you think for a moment, just before another wave of pleasure courses through you, causing you to stifle a moan.

Frank giggles next to you before threading his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand lightly, so gentle as he threatens to make you fall apart.

Nevermind, you decide. This was a great idea. Maybe one of the best ideas I've ever had.

-

By the time you arrive at the venue for soundcheck, you're starting to question your judgement again.

You sit off to the side as the band rehearses their set, stopping occasionally to go back and forth about tuning and mic volume.

You try your damnedest to keep your cool, but that's not exactly easy when you have to listen to Gerard bitching while you daydream about sneaking off to the bathroom and getting yourself off.

"No," he says. "A little louder... Shit, that still doesn't sound right..."

You wonder if you can be a little louder as you watch Frank pick his phone up off the amp and tap the screen.

The vibrations kick up again on high intensity. Frank smirks at you before running through the riff he had been playing again, and fuck. Fuck.

You clap a hand over your mouth, letting out a high-pitched sound as your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably. You bite down on your hand as you ride out your orgasm.

A panicked feeling runs through you as the sensation begins to die down. You drop your hand back into your lap, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Luckily, you find that everyone is still thoroughly involved in the microphone debacle.

Everyone except for Frank, that is.

He looks up at you and smiles before picking his phone back up and turning the vibrator off.

-

Gerard stomps across the room. His foul mood from the rocky soundcheck is quite apparent. "I'm going to get lunch," he declares. Even those benign words have a definite edge to them. "Chinese food. What does everybody want?"

You mutter your usual order to him, struggling to keep your own cool as much as you desperately wished he would keep his.

"I'll do that thing with the beef and broccoli," Ray calls from across the room, returning his guitar to its case.

"Oh, yeah. Real specific," Gerard says. "It's not like you just described half the menu or anything..."

"I don't know!" Ray snaps. "It really doesn't matter much to me, man. I'm hungry, and my head hurts, and I've had to piss since we started playing..."

"Go then," Gerard shoots back. "I'll bring you back... something."

"Preferably beef and broccoli!" Ray shouts just before the bathroom door slams behind him.

Gerard rolls his eyes before looking over at Mikey. "What do you want, Mikes?"

Mikey seems to think for a moment. "I dunno," he admits sheepishly. "Could I go with you? Look at the menu?"

Gerard sighs. "Yeah. I guess." Finally, he turns his attention to Frank, who just settled next to you on the sofa.

"What about you, Frank?" he asks. "You want vegetable chow mein, or do you want to make things more complicated than they already are?"

"Veggie chow mein is good with me." Frank loops his arm around you, pulling you close to him. You eye the phone in his lap like a loaded gun.

"Good," Gerard replies. "Come on, Mikey."

With that, the two of them walk out of the room, leaving you and Frank alone for the time being.

As soon as he knows the coast is clear, Frank leans in to murmur in your ear. "You came earlier, didn't you?" he asks, his hand brushing lazily over your thigh.

You stiffen, sucking in a shaking breath.

He chuckles. "I know that you did. I saw you, when we were rehearsing "House of Wolves." You had your hand over your mouth and everything. Would've loved to hear you scream." His hand climbs higher again. You moan softly.

"So desperate," he remarks. "You're lucky nobody else saw you, hmm? Lucky everybody was distracted." His hand falls away from your thigh, only to dip into the waistband of your pants.

You gasp at the feeling of his fingers moving against you, hips shifting against his hand. More than anything, you want him to finger you, get you off again quickly before anyone else gets back. Take a bit of the edge off.

"Shh," Frank hisses. "Hold still for me. Lemme see what a mess you made."

You turn your face to rest against his shoulder, shuddering out another low moan as his fingers slip between your folds.

You lift your head when he pulls his hand back, releasing a low groan. "Christ, honey," he says. "Look at this."

Your eyes widen as they fall on his fingers. They're... Fuck, they're so wet that they fucking shine.

You simply whine in response.

"So fucking wet for me," he continues. "Came for me before I could even touch you, and you're already desperate for more."

Without warning, he opens his mouth and plunges the two fingers that were just in your panties inside. You watch him, feeling your heart racing and your face burning. And yourself getting wetter, if that's even possible.

You startle at the sound of footsteps. "What are you doing?" Ray demands, eyeing Frank with a look of confusion that you hope never turns into understanding.

Frank pulls his fingers back, cool as a cucumber. "They were bleeding," he says easily. "Fucked 'em up while I was playing."

Ray hums before taking a seat next to his guitar case and pulling out his phone.

With a shaky sigh of relief, you bury your burning face in Frank's shoulder again. "I hate you," you grumble.

You feel the rumble of his laugh against your cheek. "No, you don't," he argues before planting a kiss against your forehead.

-

The show is at once an enormous relief and a small taste of hell.

Of course, Frank can't fuck around with the vibrator, as he continued to do after lunch and throughout the rest of the afternoon, while he's on stage, playing for a couple thousand people. Still, you have to sit in your damp panties, feeling the idle toy press against you.

And you have to watch him perform.

Despite the manner in which soundcheck crashed and burned, it's shaping up to be an excellent show, — the perfect way to finish up the current leg of the tour, you think. Everyone is so perfectly in their element, but Frank...

God. Frank.

He is so fucking pretty, leaning into the microphone, harmonizing with Gerard and Ray as his fingers dance along the fretboard of his guitar.

You focus intently on those fingers. The same ones that he touched you with earlier. The same ones that he sucked your juices off of while looking you in the eye.

The fingers that you hope will be shoved deep inside of you later.

You close your eyes, leaning back in your seat.

Just a few more songs, you tell yourself. And then I'll have him all to myself until the next leg starts.

-

Except that technically isn't true. You had no idea that the band had an afterparty planned to celebrate the end of the leg. It shouldn't surprise you, but it does.

As it would turn out, management rented out the club for a few hours after the show ended. As soon as the crowd dwindles out, the doors are locked, and the rest of the night begins.

You sit stiffly off to the side as everyone celebrates, ordering drinks and making small talk.

"Great show, everybody." Ray envelopes Gerard, Mikey, and Frank each in a hug before stopping in front of you. You don't exactly know why he's hugging you when you had nothing to do with the show's success, — maybe just because you're sitting next to Frank, — but you hug him back anyway.

As soon as he walks away, you look over at Frank, who is squished next to you in the booth. He types something into his phone, stopping intermittently to sip his beer.

Once he catches you looking, he turns his screen away from you.

You frown. "What're you doing?" you shout over the music playing in the background.

"Texting Shaun," he replies.

And maybe, at one point, he was texting Shaun. But the intense vibrations that begin a few seconds later tell you that he had a reason to hide his screen.

You gasp, gripping the tabletop.

The waves build up quickly inside of you. You don't know how many times you've already come today. You feel weak, feverish. You tremble, knuckles going white around the edge of the table. "Frank..."

"Shh." Frank reaches for your hands, pulling you away from the table before reaching out to wrap you in his arms. You bury your face in his shirt, allowing your shaking moan to be muffled by the fabric.

To anyone else, the two of you would just look like any standard couple, sharing an embrace after a show. As it would happen, though, you feel like you are completely crumbling in his grip.

"Try and keep your composure, baby," he mutters to you. "We are in public, after all. Wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, would we?"

"Frank," you sob again into his shirt.

"You gonna come again?" he asks. "Do it. Come in front of all these people. In front of Gerard, Mikey, Ray. In front of the tour manager and all the roadies. They'll have no fucking clue."

You hold onto him tighter as you come, your entire body shaking in his arms.

"That's it," he coaxes you. "Oh, fuck, baby. So fucking good for me."

You go limp against him.

"There we go." Frank releases you, pulling back to turn off the vibrator. He stops just before leaning in for a kiss, frowning as he notes your mascara-streaked cheeks.

"Shit, sweetheart." He holds your face in his hands, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. "Are you alright? Why're you crying?"

You swallow, overwhelmed with the maddening desperation that's been building inside of you all day. "Need you to fuck me," you manage. "Please, Frank. Need you..."

"Okay." He presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing your hand, pulling you out of the booth. "I'll take care of you. C'mon."

-

As soon as the bathroom door locks behind you, Frank sinks to his knees.

"Alright," he breathes as he begins to undo the buttons on your jeans. Once you've kicked your pants and panties aside, he looks up at you.

"Legs over my shoulders," he beckons you. "C'mon."

Shakily, you allow him to help you position yourself. Your back is pressed against the stall door, and your legs are already shaking. You feel unsteady, but Frank's arm wrapped around your waist gives you the illusion of just a little more security.

"There we go," he says.

His fingers ghost between your legs again. You tense in anticipation.

"Gonna lick this sweet little pussy," he mumbles. "Gonna leave you completely fucked out."

"Please," you murmur. "Please, Frank. I need—" Your pleas are cut short by a broken moan as his tongue dips between your folds, licking all the way up to your clit.

After ten years together, Frank has eating you out down to a science. He does everything that drives you insane without even having to think about it.

You gasp as his tongue dips inside of you, reaching down to yank at his long black hair. He moans against you, sending a completely different type of vibration through your core.

After a few minutes, you feel yourself approaching the edge again.

"Frank." Your voice is rough as you throw your head back, narrowly avoiding making contact with the bathroom door. "Frank, I'm gonna... gonna come again."

He doesn't pull away to give you any verbal encouragement. Instead, he digs his fingers hard into your hips and speeds up the movements of his tongue.

Your legs tighten around him as you shudder, coming hard against his mouth. He keeps licking until you go completely motionless, still whimpering his name. "Frank..."

"Shh. I've got you." He keeps his arms wrapped your waist, lowering you to the ground momentarily as he stands up. As soon as he's upright, he helps you wrap your legs around his waist, still holding you in place. "There." He leans in, kissing you deeply before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "Want me to fuck you, baby?" he asks. "Finally fill you up after you've waited for it all day?"

"Please," you beg. "Please fuck me."

"Okay, sweetheart. Okay." He keeps you pinned against the door as he undoes his belt, yanking down his pants. He positions your legs around him again, lining himself up with your entrance.

"So fucking pretty," he mutters before pushing into you.

He muffles your cries with his mouth, setting a quick, punishing rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he drives into you.

"Feels so good, baby, Jesus Christ." He pulls back, nuzzling your shoulder as he keeps up his pace.

As he hits that familiar spot deep inside of you, you feel yourself beginning to unravel completely. This is different than the other orgasms that you've had today. The sensation magnifies and magnifies, slowly washing over you until it almost feels like too much.

"Frank... Frankie..." you whine. "It's so much... I don't..."

With a groan, he halts completely. He meets your eyes, his hand lovingly brushing against your back. "Do you wanna stop?" he asks.

You shake your head.

"Okay," he says. "Remember your colors, baby. If anything changes, let me know."

Then he's kissing your neck as he begins to move again.

"So good for me," he says in between teasing nips against your skin. "My good girl, taking me so well. Oh, fuck."

His hips stutter, causing him to drive into you extra hard as your walls begin to spasm. He comes deep inside of you as you squeeze around him, the sound of his deep groan mixing in with your breathy cry.

As soon as the pleasure begins to die down, you melt into his arms, finally sated. Despite the feeling of relief washing over you, you're still shaking.

Frank holds you tighter, pressing kisses all over your face. "That's my girl. So good for me." He pulls out slowly before helping you ease yourself back down to the ground.

He reaches for a paper towel, wiping at the inside of your thighs. "Best I can do, for now."

He reaches for your underwear and jeans first, helping you redress. Once both of you have your clothes back on, he gives you a sly smile.

"So, if you had to guess, how many times did you come today?"

You laugh shakily. "I think that was number ten."

He chuckles incredulously. "Ten? Holy shit!"

He pulls you to your feet and throws his arms around your shoulders, leading you out of the stall. "C'mon," he says. "I'm taking you back to rest. God knows, you need it."

-

On the way out of the club, Frank mumbles something to Ray about your leg acting up again before explaining that he's taking you back to the bus.

As soon as you reach the bus, the two of you change into your pajamas and climb into his bunk.

He crawls in first, wrapping himself around you as soon as you settle in. "Love you," he murmurs into your neck.

You smile as your eyes flutter shut. "Love you, too." You relish his familiar warmth, knowing that, as long as you're wherever he is, you're home.

Still, you find it imperative to mention: "Come tomorrow, we'll be back in Jersey."

He chuckles. "Yeah," he says. "Then I can try that vibrator on you again within the comfort of our own home, and you can make all kinds of noise."

You laugh, halfheartedly swatting at him. "Give me a fucking break."

Deep down, you know that a break is the last thing that you want from him.

-

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