#hourly rate when I travel

[nice-bright-colors]

Smells like (2) hours to me. After all, tomorrow’s will smell like about (4) hours.

[nordic-language-love]

I see a lot of my followers in their early-mid twenties panicking about how they’re “running out of time” and they feel pressured to achieve things NOW before it’s too late so I just want to tell you about how my first year in my thirties has gone:

Doubled my hourly rate as an online English teacher (which I only started doing in late July last year)

Passed my advanced Norwegian exam, confirming I’ve actually managed to reach C1 level (which I never expected to do) and opening up other future possibilities

Learned basic Japanese

Accepted a job on the other side of the world, finally pursuing my life-long dream of moving abroad

Travelled solo to my favourite country twice and explored lots of new places and made new friends

Met my favourite musician/one of my biggest inspirations and spoke to him in his native language (which he told me I speak very well!)

Finally met an online friend I’ve known and admired for years

Started learning to draw

Organised (or at least helped organise) our studio’s first ever showcase

Choreographed and performed two routines with equipment I’d never choreographed a routine for before

Concluded with my therapist that I no longer need therapy

Tl;dr: at age 31, my life is finally starting. I feel like a real adult with the confidence and finances to achieve what I want to achieve instead of just getting by and panickedly trying to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing. So if you’re in your early-mid twenties and you’re worried that your life is over and you’re running out of time to be successful and achieve your dreams, you’re not. People say life begins at 30 (and 40 and 50, actually) for a reason. Your 20s are not supposed to be the time you succeed or even particularly thrive. You’re finding your feet, you’re figuring it out. Embrace it. Try things. Suck at things. Backpedal when you get things wrong.

I also just want to mention that I had an eating disorder and struggled with self-harm/depression/anxiety in my teens/early twenties. I probably wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me life gets this good. I’m so happy I stuck around to see it! Please don’t lose faith in your future; you’ll make your own place in this world and you won’t regret waiting it out.

[workingdownthewordmine]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 2 Shadows in the House

Bucky is haunted by an unwanted presence all too close to home.

Read this chapter on AO3 here.

Chapter 1 | Chapter3

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes Rating: T CW: Threat, injury, paranoia, hearing voices, flashbacks, choking Prompts filled: Fandom Free Bingo (Frosty Edition) card 1: Helping the injured @fandom-free-bingo Febuwhump 2024: Day 18 - Too weak to move @febuwhump Multifandom-Flash (Round 2): Through the eyes of madness @multifandom-flash Multifandom-Flash (Discrimination): Dehumanizing insult Whumpuary 2024: Day 2 - "Get away from me"/collapse/choking @whumpuary

Dividers by @unfortunate-beetle-and-friends

“Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?” 

Plato 

The temporary soothing effect of the whimsical gift and its accompanying note wore off as soon as night fell. There was work to do before he could turn in. He travelled every floor, setting his alarms, dragging armfuls of lumber with him to plug up as many points of entry as he could. If someone was going to get in here, he wanted to know exactly what route they’d have to take. No one was going to sneaking up on him down some eccentric crawlspace left behind by decades of half-funded renovations. Every pinch he squirmed through seemed to reveal another crack in the building’s shell until he was choking on dust and the ache in his shoulder and side was making his entire torso throb. How could a building so full of holes still be standing? Even when his lumber supply dried up and he was forced to return to the apartment, he couldn’t stop circling from one window to the next, scanning the streets outside. What had been caution wound about him tighter and tighter until he moved through his home like a deadly sharp coiled spring, poised to taste blood. Eventually he did force himself to lie down, but it didn’t do him much good. The spring would not unwind. 

Bucky slept about as well as he predicted – a little worse than an insomniac who’d been trying to treat their chicken pox with cocaine. He lay with his back pressed to the wall, trying to shield himself against the phantom fingers waiting to close around his throat. 

The voice that crept from his lips was barely a breath in the dark. “I won’t go back.” He dipped his chin in the tiniest nod. “I won’t go back. I won’t go back.” 

He shunned his sleeping bag. He needed to sleep lightly, not lulled by softness. He felt every splinter in the floorboards. Every change of light through the window above him or soft creak from the aging building had his hand tightening on his sidearm, jerking his shoulder until each movement meant a wince and an effort to stay silent. Even without his almost hourly patrols of the building, gun in hand, the night was more exhausting than the day. 

Daylight came as a relief, for as much as fifteen minutes. He lit the stove and poured hot water onto half a cup of coffee granules. Nothing less had a hope of making it through to his central nervous system before his body neutralised it. By the same token, he downed a handful of pills with the first scalding swallow. In defiance of Hollywood’s beliefs, pain wouldn’t sharpen his reflexes, just hinder his control. And he needed to be in control of himself. The painkillers hadn’t even kicked in before his short-lived respite was over.  

It was no more than a car backfiring. He was certain of that. He was no raw recruit filling his shorts with shit at the snap of a twig. So, why was it a full ten minutes before he could thaw from his crouch at the window and stop examining every inch of Legion Street through his scope? Why was every nerve ending already blazing when the alarm sang out overhead? 

Fuck. Fuck. He’d fucked up. All the traps he had laid, all the potential openings he’d boarded up… useless. Someone was up there right over his goddamn head. Useless. Fucking useless. He strapped a knife to his thigh opposite his gun, hesitated, and added another to his shin. The he removed the board from the wall cavity in the hall closet as quietly as possible. 

He’d walked into this situation and no one was going to save him if he didn’t get his shit together and do it himself.  

Even if they could, why would they bother? They’d probably be relieved to have the embarrassing fuck-up taken care of…  

The reptilian voice crawled through the back of his mind as he eased through the gap and into the dark, dusty recess. They wouldn’t come, not even if he called, not when he’d pushed them all away. 

He pulled himself around a beam, metal fingers biting deep into the wood, struggling to breathe in the suffocating gloom. And he couldn’t call. Because his phone was back in his apartment, now fifteen feet below him. Because he knew, didn’t he? He knew and had always known that the best, kindest – hell, the only- thing he could do for anyone he cared about was to stay away from them. Stay entirely out of contact. 

Higher. No beams here. Back and feet braced against either wall. Level with the third floor ceiling with the alarm still wailing above him. Idiot. The noise would tell whoever was up there that they’d been detected. There went any element of surprise and any chance he’d had of tracking their movement until he had eyes on them or that fucking noise stopped. Fucking stupid of him. The shrieking alarm reverberated around his skull. The only thing worse than a monster was an incompetent monster. He moved slower. He pushed through prickling sheets of insulation. The air in his chest burned and his head spun. The shrieking alarm mingled with the mocking sneer inside his head. What good was this half-assed fucking around inside a fucking wall? Without his leash, he was no better than a stray dog loose in the traffic, waiting for a speeding car to end his miserable existence. 

Head already spinning, he didn’t realise he was falling until he smashed through a beam and twisted, raking down the rough wall, the light from his own apartment flashing past him and receding, disappearing into the darkness along with everything else. Ice cold air tearing past him. Agony searing through his arm, rock and snow racing up to meet him… Worthless piece of shit… 

He woke and fought not to scream. The debris around him gouged his flailing body as he wrenched free. He rolled, dropped again, then he was kneeling, shaking, on the mouldy piss-stinking basement floor. He groped at the cracked edges of tile around him, grasping in desperation. Cold, dark, pain… he could feel  the restraints around his limbs dragging him down. The scream ripped free. He kicked furiously, scrabbling for purchase in the dirt, throwing himself towards the doorway and the dim light filtering down the stairwell. His shoulder slammed into the doorframe. He felt the wall tremble as though the whole building was ready to fall.  

Do it… bury me down here. In the pit. Where I belong. 

Merciful darkness swallowed him. 

They took a little longer to reach the basement. They followed the sounds. His fall. His scream. The ringing impact of Vibranium on concrete. Then they hesitated at the head of the last flight of stairs. If he was still conscious, what sort of condition would he be in? To them it seemed most likely they’d find him catatonic or maybe crazed with distress, like a wounded, cornered animal… They’d heard those sounds before. No one who made sounds like that was going to be in a state to roll out a welcome mat. Softly, they descended. 

He woke in a rush of panic, his eyes and lungs burning, unable to recognise his surroundings. There were straps on his arms. His legs. His chest. No. No. No! He forced himself upright, wrenching his left arm across to tear at the fabric binding his right, heedless of the pain in his shoulder. Fresh blood welled under his digging fingertips. He had already shredded the fabric before he realised it wasn’t secured to anything. There was still an intact sea knot amongst the pieces he had stripped away. The cloth was tacky with blood. Not restraints – bandages. Someone had bandaged him while he was unconscious. He heard his own harsh breath filling the room, bruising the silence, as he scanned frantically.  

Newspapered walls. Light blotted out by heavy boards across the windows. The floor stained and pitted but fairly clear of garbage… because he had shovelled it all out into the alley during his first week here. He remembered deciding he’d get his own place fixed up first but that he wouldn’t leave all that gross shit and trash to stink everything up and rot the wood even further. It had taken him a day or two to haul everything out. Him. He was in one of the downstairs apartments. Alive. Unrestrained. No more harmed than he’d been after…  

The fall. That fucking voice. He whipped around, ignoring the flares of pain all over him, expecting to find a familiar silhouette looming over him. Expecting rusted metal to choke him at any moment. But he was alone. The only presence he could detect was his own. Still, he didn’t trust it yet. He hadn’t forgotten the story Steve had related – waking up in a room Fury’s people had designed. Who was to say the same wasn’t happening to Bucky right now? Maybe they’d decided they weren’t comfortable with having him on the loose after all. Maybe Hydra had copied the trick. He wouldn’t put it past them. But why now, when they’d never troubled themselves to make him feel at home before? 

It was only as he got stiffly to his feet that he noticed he had not been lying on bare floor as he’d assumed. Where his head had rested there was a bundle of cloth. He pulled it towards him and it unrolled into a stained black hoodie, heavy with the mingled smells of blood and sweat. And someone had rolled it up into a pillow for him. He dropped it beside his feet and paused to examine his bandages more closely. They didn’t look like they’d been very neat even before his violent clawing but those that had survived his panic were still fairly secure, tied off like the one he’d destroyed, not pinned or taped. The worst of his wounds – a deep gash in his right thigh – had an extra strip of fabric tied over the top of the crepe bandages. Improvised bandages had changed somewhat since France; the addition wasn’t scavenged linen. He plucked at the thin stretchy cotton and recognised part of an old t-shirt. He grunted with amusement, in spite of the weird situation, when his probing fingers found a green paw mark printed on the black fabric. That, more than anything else, struck him as an unlikely ploy for any of his enemies. He thought of the plant in its bright pot and the friendly note that had accompanied it. 

He tested his arm and legs. Bruised, bleeding in a few places, but nothing broken. His bones didn’t break readily. He took a deep breath and doubled over choking. His throat was raw. His cheeks grew hot at the memory of his terrified screaming. It was probably too much to hope that no one had heard. 

What an embarrassment you are. So much training wasted… 

He had to get out of here. 

The stairs were a difficult climb. His lungs were full of fire. The absence of the tripwires on his floor registered mostly in relief that he wouldn’t have to negotiate them with watering eyes and stumbling feet. He stepped carefully round the stakes he had embedded beneath false patches of linoleum in his entryway, holding the wall for balance. He squinted painfully out of the window, trying to gauge how long he had been incapacitated. Looked like afternoon. Hours, then. Guilt and shame twisted in his gut.  

He stared through streaming eyes between the doorways of the hall closet and his bedroom. He wasn’t exactly going to be safe with that big fucking hole into the wall  sitting there open and visible, but how safe was he anyway? He’d completely failed to make this place any kind of fortress. The alarm was no longer screaming. Had the battery died? Had someone turned it off? He swayed as he turned his gaze to his sleeping bag. God, he needed rest. How long had it been since he had screamed so much that it hurt to breathe? He ran his hands over his torso, searching, but the pain wasn’t right for broken ribs and he found no evidence of them. Gravity pulled at him. He leaned on the door jamb, willing the smooth surface to cool his prickling forehead. Was it possible to come down with the flu in the space of a couple of hours? Could he even still catch the flu? That was enough thought to set his head spinning. His fingertips splintered the doorframe as he rocked on his feet. Down. Lie down. Important. The sleeping bag seized his gaze again.  

You’ve been sleeping all day. Why should a performance like today’s earn a nap? 

The last word was spat in his face, with all the disdain the childish concept deserved.  

What do you think you deserve for humiliating yourself? A pat on the head and a cookie? 

“I’ll do better…” he found himself muttering. He scrubbed his hand across his red eyes and drew in a sharp breath at the fresh wave of pain left in its wake. Mastering himself, he crossed back to the closet and hauled up the board that covered the hole. He set it in place and cast about for the tools to fix it there. So dark in this shadowy recess, out of sight of the apartment’s few windows. He blinked, trying to clear the terrible gritty feeling from his eyes. The closet seemed darker each time it came back into view. The darkness flickered like the static on a television set. The unsteady floor rattled as he crashed down on his knees then pitched forwards onto his face. 

Consciousness returned with punishing weight, yet left him in the dark. The force that had woken him pressed him down against the bare wood. He jerked under another blow, the impact echoing around his skull. Stop. Please. I’ll do better… Please. Another thud. Pleading never helped… Another wince. A voice. He flinched, expecting more pain. But the voice was outside of his head. No… No! He fumbled blindly for his pistol. Both arms were too heavy to move.  

To think I called something like you an asset…  

He gulped, throat closed, no sound beyond a gurgle. Had he- was his jaw broken again? Thud… Thud, thud. The blows sporadic and somehow distant. He couldn’t pull himself from the past, his weakened body seeming to occupy both at once. He groped for the gun again. Couldn’t grip. Slipping. There was a soft scrabbling at the front door. The knob rattled. He made one more grasp for his weapon, then the darkness of memory closed over his face.  

[sea-owl]

For the governess au, what kind of shenanigans are ABC pulling to get their future wives attentions? I could see them trying to prove they are more handy or hardworking than other gentlemen; perhaps Colin tries to get Pen to watch him split wood or something.

You: splitting wood

My brain, immediately:

(Honestly, why did this scene feel so sexual between them? I know the actual context, but sometimes it feels like Steve was showing off, and Tony looked like he was into it.)

Honestly, the only one I can see having any handy skills is Colin. At least I hope he learned something from all that traveling. Some survival skills, at least. Anthony canonically does not know how to warm up milk or know how to use the stove, and I can't imagine Benedict being any better pre Sophie.

Maybe that's their technique, the poor gentlemen are helpless on their own. Can you please teach them some basic skills?

Feel like Kate would immediately give them an hourly rate. Her and Penelope are paid to teach the children not grown adults who aren't a part of the house they work in. Sophie isn't a governess at all, and you're asking her to do a job that (she can do) isn't hers? 20 pence an hour.

ABC use the excuse they're visiting their nibblings as to why they're over so much. Daphne doesn't buy it and calls bullshit. She also does her research though, "for their mother" and gets to know the three ladies more. She finds they would be perfect for her brothers. Okay mother I will help you matchmake.

Simon is amused because his brother in-laws are acting like idiots and payback for his courtship with Daphne, but also, that's his staff. He has a general good reputation among his staff, and he doesn't want to replace two good governesses and a lady's maid.

Watching ABC not be these perfect gentlemen and see their flaws as they flounder what they're trying to learn is gonna warm Kate, Sophie, and Penelope up to them. (That and treating them like equals and not servants)

All three women are eventually gonna wear the don't look at me face when the children start competing with their uncles for their attention.

[copiousloverofcopia]

HERE IT IS! The moment some of you have been waiting for...well maybe not really lol...

Since I completed The Red Dress as promised I have started on one of my promised other new works.....UNDER THE SPELL!

Please be nice I am SO not used to writing for Mary, so I hope its ok!

Mary Goore x OC Piper!

Piper and Mary have been best friends since they first met as children. When Mary and her boyfriend Sid asked her to come along on gigs, Piper thought it was a no-brainer. But as the excitement of the buzzing amps dies down, she realizes she wants more—now if only she can get him to agree.

Chapter 1: Fishnets and Regrets

Also available HERE on AO3!

Eventually will be NSFW below the cut 😈

She was trying her best to stay cool, staving off the tears that relentlessly pricked at her eyes. The sharp-winged cat eyeliner and heavily mascaraed lashes sent a trail of black down her cheeks. A battle lost, but only for a short moment until she could bring herself to carry on. Piper stared into the mirror of another random bar's bathroom, angry at herself for not realizing what she wanted to do with her life sooner. Despite her upset, the show must go on. Knowing that would need to stuff it down before heading out to face them again—her chosen family and partners in crime, Repugnant. 

She had spent the last 6 years of her life traveling with them and when the sounds of humming amps kicked on and the guitars screamed as they were being tuned—she needed to move her ass. Before heading back out, she adjusted her tattered fishnets, that had seen better days, and re-tied her scuffed up black combat boots. They were her favorite—a gift from Mary many years ago. Piper checked the mirror, once more, just to be sure that her mohawk hadn't fallen, before using her foot to kick open the door.  

Her mind was still heavy with anger and hurt. The fight she and Sid had was only a short time ago and it left her feeling heated, like she was roasting from the inside. Now she'd have to go and watch them perform—pissed off but having got her shit together enough to keep the peace. After all, there were still a bunch more gigs to go and the road home, for her, didn’t really exist. 

It was the first time in a long time Piper wished she was somewhere else. Traveling with the four guys and Tom's girl, Annie, had been a dream come true. She lived for the music, the lights of the stage, and the energy from the crowd as the guys performed. Having grown up with Mary and getting close with the rest of them, it was only natural that they all worked so well together. So, when Mary and Sid asked her to tag along while they toured the world, she thought she couldn’t ask for anything more—that was until last week. 

She was late—very late. Her period, which had normally come like clockwork, had decided to give both her and Sid the scare of a lifetime. Both of them in a full-blown panic as the reality of that drunken mishap set in. Sid was pissed, throwing shit around the hourly rate hotel room, spouting comments about her needing to get shit taken care of and him not wanting any damn kids. Piper wasn’t at all surprised at his psychotic meltdown, but what she was surprised about was her reaction to the negative test. In that moment everything changed, and she was, for lack of a better word, conflicted. 

When only one line appeared on the stick, Sid was ecstatic. Jumping up and down acting like a complete and utter fool. Thrilled out of his mind that he had dodged yet another bullet despite his recklessness. Piper was relieved too, in a way. Sid was not necessarily the "fatherly" type, but the idea of having a kid hadn't left her—even a week later. 

That's when the fight happened, and of course it just had to happen before the show. Sid couldn't let things go and give her the space she needed when she told him nothing was wrong. So, with his incessant pushing and Piper's built-up anger, the truth came spilling out like blood from a gushing wound. Not her finest moment to be sure, but she wondered if all of this was what needed to happen.

Things had been rocky for some time with Sid. He was a good man deep down, but definitely immature and Piper was pretty sure his photo was next to "man child" in the dictionary. She loved him, but she knew at this point it was over between them—Piper had figured out she wanted more than just a spot in the tour bus and glorified groupie status with the band. She told Sid she wanted to move on with her life and settle down. And with that revelation, blow up number 1,346 began. Leaving them officially split up and Piper in an awkward place—feeling empty. 

She took in a deep breath before continuing down the hall and stepping out onto the floor, the band playing when she had made her way to the pit. The guitars were drilling into the audience’s skulls and the drums banging hard, vibrating in her chest. The feeling of the music coursing through her, was truly something she'd never get enough of. Piper watched Sid playing his guitar, Tom on drums, Carlos on bass, and of course Mary absolutely slaughtering the vocals. The frustration, hanging itself within her soul, shredding with the sounds of the death metal they came to play. 

The smell of cigarette smoke was heavy in the air and the sticky floor pulled at the bottoms of her boots, but she didn't care. Piper head-banged her way through Draped in Cerecloth and tried to just let go. Her mohawk swinging around and the chains on her belt rattling as she jumped up and down, screaming into the universe and giving every last bit of energy she had to Mary and the guys. Thankfully it was gonna be a great night of music, but also a night she would never forget.

The show was a blast, the crowd losing it over the performance and tearing the place up as they rocked out to what their parents surely referred to as “deafening noise”. As their spot was over, Mary and the guys along with Piper and Annie took the opportunity to throw a few back before heading out for the night. All of them laughing and celebrating another show well done, Piper being a bit less enthusiastic as usual. Mary, taking note that she and Sid had been keeping their distance. 

The bar had now been closed for over an hour and while everyone else minus the stagehands had left to head back to the bus, Piper decided to hang out for some time alone. She sat by herself with a beer in hand and picked at yet another tear in her fishnets, when she saw Mary coming towards her. Fuck , she thought to herself knowing exactly where this was going.  

Mary Goore had been covered in blood since the beginning of the show. Preferring to start things out with a bang. Dripping with it as he raged in sonnets of death and the defiling of corpses. The metallic liquid, now managing to cover his shirt and matted a bit of his hair, but he didn't care. It was another glorious night for him and the guys, though he couldn’t let go of the feeling that things were off with Sid and Piper. 

He felt a connection to her like no other—the best of friends since the cradle. Their families were close from the beginning. When Mary's Dad took off and Piper's parents were killed, they were the ones to help each other hold it together. She had been a staple in his life. A constant he knew he could always count on. Things had been weird lately between her and Sid, that was for sure. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out things were at an all-time low. 

"Pipes? Why aren't you on the bus?" He asked as he slumped down beside her on the edge of the stage. Piper shrugged a bit, taking another swig of her beer to finish it off before speaking. 

"Just didn't feel like it quite yet. I figured I'd wait till everything got packed up and then head over."

"Bullshit." Mary said straight faced and serious toned. He was a bit intimidating after a show, all that blood over his face and the tiniest amount of grumble to his voice—after having pushed it so hard.

"Oh come on. Don't do that thing you do." Piper begged—her words futile. She knew he could sense it, there was definitely something she wasn’t telling him. Piper was surprised that Sid hadn't told him yet about their break up, since he had never known how to keep his mouth shut. 

"You know better sweetness than to lie to my face." He told her as he widened his gaze and tried to lean in closer. Piper pressed her lips together into a tight line and furrowed her brows before dropping her eyes to her lap. Damn Mary for always being right and always knowing when she was hiding something. 

“Sid and I well…we aren’t a thing anymore.” Piper said calmly before looking back over at Mary. His face was filled with disgust, imagining the multitude of things Sid could have done to destroy things with Piper, who had stuck by his ass for so long. 

“What did that rat bastard do now?” Mary growled knowing full well how asinine his friend could be. Piper put her hand on Mary’s shoulder to calm him. It was slick with blood and sweat and some face paint, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Mary grabbed for her hand and gave her a concerned look. 

“No Mare, it’s nothing like that. We just decided that we want different things—I want different things.” Piper explained. 

“Well what the fuck does that even mean?” Mary laughed, though a bit nervously.

“I think this may be the end of the road for me. After the next few gigs, I’m gonna have to figure something out. I got other things I wanna do with my life and being stuck on the bus isn’t it anymore.”

“Where is this coming from? I thought you loved being on tour with us?” Mary asked her, completely confused and honestly more shaken than if it had been only the Sid issue. He didn’t want Piper to leave. Half the time she was the only thing that kept him from going off the deep end. What’s got her ready to run if it ain't Sid , he asked himself. 

“I wanna settle down, take up root somewhere and well that's not gonna happen with Sid or while I’m on the road with you all.” Piper admitted. She and Mary had usually been upfront with each other. Each appreciating the other's candor, saving them from misunderstandings but tonight she was withholding something. And while Piper might have wanted to keep the intimate details of her heartache to herself, Mary would know she was lying before she could speak the words.

“What a pussy.” he snorted, angry with Sid for spurring this whole thing on, thinking to himself anyone would be lucky to be committed to Piper. “Honestly Pipes you are better off without him…but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I want you to stay. Don’t go.”  

“Uh…fuck…Mare that’s not the start.” Piper explained, swallowing back the knot forming in her throat. Now Mary was on red alert. All his senses, buzzing with something big about to come out of Piper’s mouth—and then she said it. 

“I wanna have a baby.” she told him, Mary turning even paler than his face paints. It was only when his stunned stare turned into a dissociated blink, that Piper knew he hadn’t gone catatonic, “Mare?”

“Ah…umm…” he began smearing the blood through his hair as he ran his hand over his head. Clearly still in shock from Piper’s confession, “...what happened to you starting that band? What were you going to call it? Crazy Chrysanthemums or something?” he asked, unable to think of anything else to say in his stupor.  

“It was Wild Violets…That doesn't matter. That was just a fleeting idea.” Piper explained, “You’re missing the point.”

“And this ISN’T a fleeting idea?” Mary continued. 

“No…I honestly hadn’t thought about this kinda thing at all, but we had a scare and well… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Then Mary stood up, beginning to pace the stage as he took in everything his best friend was saying. Her words, hitting him like daggers to the chest.  

“Piper…”

“Yes?” She asked as Mary walked over to her and held out his hand. Waiting for her to take it so he could lift her up onto the stage. Piper gave it to him, quickly getting up on her feet as Mary and her eyes met in what remained of the stage lights. 

“So not a joke…not a fleeting idea?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Pulling at the worn neckline of his Morbid t-shirt.  

“Not a joke I swear.” Piper replied, putting up her hands like some girl scout signaling her pledge to the troop. Mary got quiet again—his eyes dropping away from hers and down to the scratched up remnants of old band stickers and other crap that had adhered to the floor of the stage. “Mare?” she called to him, watching him get lost in thought. 

“Sorry I am still trying to wrap my head around you wanting Sid to be a dad.” Mary jabbed, trying to insert some humor into the situation, but he could tell it only made Piper more upset. 

“Oh come on Pipes you know this whole thing is a little fucked right? Hell, even I'd be a better Dad than..." Mary began when the idea struck Piper like a ton of bricks. One she instantly knew felt right, but oh boy was it going to be a bitch to convince Mary. He could see it—the look in her eye told him she was scheming and now his anxiety went through the roof. “…what are you thinkin’... 

“Mare…here me out. What if you—” Piper barely got out the first words before Mary began pacing around once more, his eyes blown wide and his jaw dragging across the floor. 

"Nope, nope don't like that." Mary said, shaking his head. “No way you’re even considering what I think you are considering.” 

“But Mare…you are my best friend. My other half, I can’t think of anyone else better. I don’t wanna waste my time with some deadbeat guys…not when I have you. Not when I know that you’re perfect.” Piper finished, a newfound energy surging through her. Wondering why she hadn’t thought of this before tonight. Mary was visibly in shock. His mind swirling with the implications of his best friend’s words. Wondering if he was finally losing his mind from all the stress of touring.  

“Perfect for what Pipes?” he asked her, straining against the words he knew were about to leave her lips. 

“I want it to be you. I want you and I…to have a baby.”

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Sledding

Summary: Sledding at a lodge together.

Oneshot

Fluff, Established Relationship au

Word Count: 1,668

Jooheon X Reader

Not Requested

Prompt: 7. “After sledding, do you want to have hot cocoa at the lodge?” 

------

You're sitting beside Jooheon with your legs on his lap when he asks, “What if we stay at the tubing lodge and go sledding this weekend?” You grin, “That sounds fun.” He pulls your legs higher onto his lap, “Good, 'cause I already booked the tickets.” You cackle, “Joo!” He smiles, “I knew you'd like it.” You sigh but smile as you say, “You’re right, I’m excited.” You lean your head on his shoulder, “So, where is this lodge?” He smiles, “Just an hour away.” You nod, “Okay. We’ll have to pack.” He agrees, and when it starts growing later into the night, you both make your travel bags for the trip. 

He lets you control the aux on your way up. He turns up the volume as you play songs to gear you both up. Since you couldn’t check in until 3 pm, you both went to a breakfast place. You happily eat a late breakfast at a diner. He clinks your orange juices together. And he grins, “So, how many hills do you think we can sled today?” You smile, “As many as possible.” He grabs your hand to hold while you’re eating and rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. You smile as you eat another bite and squeeze his hand in yours. 

After a filling breakfast, you both get in the car, and he drives the short distance to the lodge. You grab your bags and head to the front desk. They successfully check you in and give you both keycards, telling you about the complimentary breakfast they serve. You thank them, and in the elevator, you both plan to go tomorrow morning. You both check the hotel room before putting your stuff away. You both hurry to get suited up in your scarves, two layers of coats, and snow pants. Topping it off with mittens, hats, and snow boots, you head back down the elevator into the lobby.

When you come back down, the person at the front desk goes, “Oh, I forgot to mention, we also give out four complimentary hot cocoas per day.” You both grin and nod at each other, making mental plans. But before you can voice them, you find the stand to rent your sleds at, and you say, “Hourly rate isn’t bad, a buck per hour?” He agrees, and you ask, “Three hours?” He checks his watch, “Yeah, that's fine, it’s already 5 pm.” You nod, and you hand him three dollars, which he pouts and shakes his head, crossing his arms and refusing to accept the money. He continues to pout until you put your cash away. He grins at you when you're next in line. He quickly pays for three hours before you can give the clerk your money. You roll your eyes, and you both pick out your sleds and mitten in mitten, you both climb up the first hill. 

At the top, when you’re in the line waiting patiently for your turn, he asks, “After sledding, do you want to have hot cocoa at the lodge?” You smile, “I'd love to.” When your turns come, you head down together, not racing each other, just experiencing the thrill. And you giggle as you hear his little ‘Woah’s and he giggles as he hears your gasps of excitement too. When you finish the first hill, you head to the second baby hill, arm in arm. “How many hills do you think we can make today?” He hums, “Maybe six?” You agree and wait for the kiddos in front of you to sled down with their parents before sliding down. 

When you get off the second hill, you high-five, and he goes, “Want to race on the next ones?” You grin, “You’re on.” You both rush over to the following mound. And you both get up there still linked together. Yet you both set out to beat the other down the slope. You make yourself as aerodynamic as possible as you both shout, “Go!” before speeding down the hill. While it wasn’t that tall, it was still thrilling to race your boyfriend down it. You giggle as you roll off the sled at the end, “I win!” He pouts, “This time.” You kiss away his pout, “Better?” He wrinkles his nose, “Maybe.” You kiss him again, “How about now?” He smirks, “It feels good to lose to you.” You laugh and shake your head before heading to the next slope. 

The third and fourth hills are just as fun, growing taller and taller the further you head up the mountain. Both of you high-fiving at the end of each. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your day together. You take a water break, rehydrating yourselves before heading to the fifth slope. He holds your mitten tightly in his, “Are you excited?” You nod, but the closer you get to it, the more your stomach turns. And you can’t figure out why. But you do your best to shake it off as you begin the race to the bottom.

Maybe it was how you were sitting, but it all happens so fast and so quickly. One moment, your sled was underneath you. And then it was gone the next, and you’re rolling to a stop. You cry out immediately, “Honey!” He calls back, “You okay?” When you stop, you do your best to feel your cold appendages. You move all your fingers, feeling no snow burn. You confirm that you’re okay. It just shakes you up. He walks up the hill to you and holds his hand out to you, which you shakily take. He pulls you up and puts your sled against his underneath his other arm as he keeps you close with his other arm.

He gets you safely out of the way of other riders and to the path. He asks again, “You okay?” You sniffle, “Yeah, just a little embarrassed.” He nods, “It’s okay, it happens.” You sigh, and he lets you process it. You take a few deep breaths, absorbing that your sled left you behind. After another minute, he asks, “Would you like to try it again?” You nod, and he kisses your forehead. You both make it back up the hill instead of racing against each other again. You sled side by side down the slope. And you both successfully land at the bottom. You laugh with glee and jump up and high-five him. You collect your sled and follow him to the next hill.

“You did it!” He cheers, and so do you as you walk to the last hill. Which is the tallest on the side of the mountain you were both on. The line was long, but you were excitedly waiting your turn to sled down. You heard the cheers and laughter of people experiencing the thrill of sledding down the massive hill. You grin as you hear someone scream, “Woohoo!” He laughs, “That’s going to be us.” You giggle, “It will be.” You lean your head on his shoulder, waiting for the line to move. It takes forever before you’re both up next. You squeeze his hand, and he encourages you, “You got this. I can feel it.” You sigh, “Okay.” He kisses your cheek, and you kiss his. You both line up before laying on your boards, waiting for the last two people to clear off the bottom before kicking off. 

You giggle in glee all the way down as you successfully ride down and catch more and more speed. When you both reach the bottom, you loudly let out a “Woohoo” together before moving out of the way of the next sledders. You look at the time, “We got enough time for a medium hill four times or a big hill twice?” He goes, “Medium four, more sledding time, even if it’s a smaller thrill.” You agree, and you both rush to the third hill, where no one is sledding down. You end up making five more runs because no one else wants to choose to sled down your hill. So, you both happily sled until it's time to return your sleds. 

You return your sleds and head to the hot cocoa stand. You show them your keycards, and they hand you one each. You move out of line and head inside the lodge. You turn to him and stare at each other, finally catching your breath after the endless climbing and sledding. You were both beat. You smile as you look down at your warm cocoa. That is slowly warming your hands up through your gloves. You tentatively take a sip, worrying it will burn your tongue. You gasp as it doesn’t burn but soothes your cold bones. You look at him to see he’s experiencing the same thing and giggle. You drink your cocoas silently, taking in all the fun and cold you’ve experienced. You pout as you sip the last of it yours. You look over at him to see him expressing the same disappointment. You ask, “Second cup?” He agrees, and you both head out and get another cocoa together. 

He gets up and throws out your trash. You wait for him by the elevator. When you're both in the elevator, you quickly retire to your shared room. You get out of your winter gear, trading it for warm pajamas, and collapse onto the bed. When he lands beside you, you sigh, “It was fun.” He laughs as he agrees, “Yeah.” “I think it was easier when we were kids.” He hums, “Probably because they carried us up the hills.” You laugh, “Yeah.” You roll over to look him in the eyes, “You want to get up tomorrow and do it again?” He nods, “I’d love to.” He kisses your forehead before opening his arms for you to curl into him. You do and lay your head against his chest. His heartbeat soothes you to sleep, and you dream of your fun sledding adventures together.

[writinginthesecrettrees]

So I was reading a thing about “what made you cut off a friend for good” and one stuck out to me:

This dude was upset that his long-time friend from out of state didn’t come to his wedding. Friend couldn’t afford it. Dude said “I told him I’d cover travel and hotel room” like that solved it.

It reminded me of when I lived in Portland and worked at Fred Meyer. My mom used to ask me to come visit back home all the time. She’d offer to get me plane tickets and stuff.

It took me telling her “I would need you to cover the hourly wage I’d be missing for the duration of the visit to be able to afford it” for her to understand that… yeah, I could afford my life there, but there wasn’t a lot left over. I was making $13.25/hour with a guaranteed 40-hour week because I was assistant manager in the deli. (My wage was $1/hr more than the highest rate for a plain employee.) 2 weeks, after taxes, covered a little over my rent. I liked to be able to buy food and gas. I had union dues. I had healthcare costs. Car insurance, renters insurance. Utilities and cell phone. Trying to have at least a bit of savings as a buffer in case I got sick. Frankly, I’m lucky I didn’t have credit card or student loan debt on top of it all.

Sometimes, the loss of wages from taking time off is not something a person can afford. There is so much more to travel than just “flights and hotel.”

[somedaylazysomeday]

Oaths - Part One

Javier Peña x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

You are a nurse to the Escobar family. When you decide you can't stand by and watch the carnage any longer, you choose to give information to the American DEA. You don't care for the agent assigned to your case...

*This is not related to my previous Javier Peña x fem!reader fic! I realized that one has a terribly OOC Peña and I wanted to start fresh. I still think the other one is cute though, so I'm leaving it up.

Rating: mature, lemon, etc. Mind the tags. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: some mentions of medical work, mentions of drug trafficking, mistaken identity, mentions of prostitution, grinding, fingering, piv sex, and references to canon-typical violence.

Next | Masterlist

---

This was a stupid idea. 

It was something you needed to do, but that didn’t make it any smarter.

But at least the American DEA seemed to be taking things seriously. They had taken your offer of information over the phone, created an extensive file on you, and set you up to meet with one of their agents. You had wanted to pass along the information over the phone, but that was apparently against some kind of policy. You had to meet with an agent in person.

Fortunately, the DEA seemed to understand the risks in what you were offering. They had provided you with a hotel room, given you a false name to check in under, and given you the name of the agent who was to meet you. That agent - Peña was his name - called you from the phone in the lobby. He set up a complicated pattern he would use to knock on the door of your room. When you answered, he would give his last name again, along with a code word.

All of that went smoothly - impressive in its own right. When Agent Peña stepped into the small but well-appointed hotel room, he asked you to verify your middle name and birthday, then went about searching the room for signs of surveillance.

When he was finally satisfied, Peña turned to face you where you were sitting comfortably on the bed. “You have some information for me?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I have the address of one of Pablo Escobar’s safehouses.”

You held out a slip of paper, but he made no move to take it. Instead, a crooked smile sprouted on his handsome face. “My usual type, huh?”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked politely.

“The guys at work said you were exactly the type of informant I typically work with,” he explained, though it didn’t truly answer any of your questions. His dark eyes studied your face before traveling a leisurely route down your body, lingering on a few key areas that made you straighten up with irritation. “What do you normally charge per hour? I can probably match it. The DEA is willing to pay for information about Escobar. And if I’m a little over, we’ll think of a way to settle the difference.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked again, this time significantly less politely. “What exactly am I charging hourly for?”

Peña’s brows furrowed for a moment before he froze, a look of terror and regret crossing his face. “I’m sorry. Never mind.”

“No, say it,” you requested, suddenly exhausted. 

“I thought you were a prostitute.”

You nodded slowly, the anger leaking from you like water from a cracked cup. At least he had admitted it. That was more than you had expected. “That’s what I thought you meant. I’m not a prostitute.”

“I realize that now.” Peña had taken a sudden, intense interest in the curtains. You couldn’t really blame him. There was really no tactful way to recover after first having assumed someone was a prostitute and then openly propositioning them. Unexpectedly, he seemed to rally after a moment. “What do you do for a living, then?”

“Is that important?”

He shrugged. “The information is in your file, but it would make the process of writing my receipts a lot faster.”

That at least made sense, even if you didn’t particularly like it. “I’m a nurse.”

Peña grimaced. “The last time I ran into a nurse with ties to Escobar, things got… complicated.” You waited for more of an explanation, but he only shook himself. “Why does a nurse have information about Escobar’s safe houses?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

You sighed. “Fine. When I first started at the hospital where I currently work, I met Pablo Escobar. He was there for the birth of his daughter. I didn’t know who he was at the time. I saw a man who looked moments from passing out and asked if he was okay. He told me he was fine, but I brought him a drink and something to eat. I ended up assisting in Tata’s room later and held their daughter. Now Pablo considers me one of the few people he can trust for the medical treatment of his family. I’ve been their private physician ever since.”

“You’re a nurse, though,” Peña pointed out.

“I do realize that,” you responded dryly. “But I know a little bit about several fields and can usually diagnose or treat minor things. If there’s something I can’t handle, I can suggest the right type of physician for them to bring in.”

Peña didn’t look satisfied with your explanation. “Being an informant is a dangerous thing, especially since Escobar would view this as a personal betrayal if he found out.”

“I know.” Your voice was quiet, but firm. “But this is the right thing to do. I knew I had to do something. I can’t stay quiet and watch him slowly destroy this city.”

A quiet scoff from across the room made you glance up. Peña was shaking his head. Anger snapped in your stomach, sharpening your voice. 

“I’m not stupid, Agent Peña. I’m giving you the name and location of a property I was brought to several months ago. The Escobars recently hosted a gathering there. Plenty of people can be tied back to this information, but I will be far down the list. Now…”

You held the paper out to him once more, silently urging him to take the information before you changed your mind. Not about giving the information, of course. Any moral struggle you had undergone was concluded long before you called the DEA. But the longer you spoke with Peña, the more tempted you were to ask for any other agent.

Fortunately, Peña seemed to understand your wordless demand and took the slip of paper from you. The angle was awkward, leaving his warm fingers brushing your arm, and the unexpected touch made you shiver.

That made you pause, seizing the time Peña took to study the neat writing on the paper and tuck it into his wallet. He was a handsome man, even if his personality left much to be desired. He was healthy and strong, and when he wasn’t talking, you could almost imagine testing those soft lips with your own. He was confident, self-assured as he paced around the hotel room. This was a man with whom Pablo Escobar had declared an all-out war, and yet he didn’t seem troubled. Perhaps that was more stupidity than bravery, but you were willing to believe it was more the latter than the former.

“What are you trying to get out of this?” he asked, snapping you out of your charitable reverie as he turned to level a suspicious glance in your direction. “We pay our informants, but the money isn’t great. Especially compared to what Escobar probably pays.”

“I’m not doing it for the money,” you told him, stung by the accusation. “I- I just want to stop seeing Medellín subjected to this violence. The city - and the people - are being torn apart.”

 Peña squinted at you. “I can’t get you a passport.”

You laughed. The sound was far too abrupt in the tenseness of the room, but this at least made sense to you. Most of the DEA’s informants must have been asking for far more than a small reward for their information. “I don’t need one. I’m a Mexican citizen and I can leave when I want.”

“Why would a Mexican citizen help the American DEA?”

You had expected the suspicion in his voice - hell, you almost understood it - but you still bristled at the implication. “Your media has reported that Escobar’s cocaine travels through Mexico to reach the United States. Do you really think it does not impact every area it passes through? Mexico is harmed by Escobar as well.”

The agent relaxed slightly, but he shook his head. “What are you doing here in Colombia, then? No one is here if they don’t have to be.”

“I have to be,” you replied with a wry smile. “I heard on the news that Medellín needed medical staff, especially nurses. I came to help. When I saw the violence and trauma… I knew I had to stay.”

Peña was silent for long enough that you fell into a sort of trance brought on by the quiet room, interrupted only by the occasional sound of another guest passing by the door. You couldn’t say why you hadn’t tried to leave yet. You had delivered the promised information and risked a lot to do so. There was nothing keeping you there.

Just when you were ready to stand and leave the room, Peña began walking slowly toward your place on the bed, looking thoughtful. “If you can get out of Colombia whenever you want… there are some other opportunities here.”

Opportunities didn’t sound like something you should be interested in, and your sense of foreboding was justified when Peña came a little closer. “Being treated for anything can be dangerous. There is always a chance that something can go wrong.”

“What are you saying?” you asked, frowning at him. 

The agent shrugged. “I’m saying, one mislabeled medication, one injection with the wrong concentration…”

“No.”

Peña sat on the bed beside you, crowding you and even going as far as pulling your hand to cradle between both of his own.. “My partner’s wife is a nurse. I know how easily things can happen.”

“I swore to never do harm to a patient,” you argued, tugging ineffectively at your hand. “Don’t ask me to break my oaths. I don’t like what Escobar is doing, but I don’t even know you.”

“That will change,” he assured you, one side of his mouth quirking up as your fingers twitched in his grasp. “With a connection to Escobar like the one you’ve got, you and I will be working together a lot.”

“Thrilling,” you said dryly. 

Peña traced a fingertip down the center of your palm and you gasped, pulling at your hand again. This time, he let go. “Hey, if you don’t want to work with me, I’ve already come up with two ways to end the whole thing now.”

“I won’t do it and frankly, it’s offensive that you’re still asking.” You shook your head, standing up. “This whole thing may have been a mistake. Enjoy your information. I’ll have to consider whether I can give you any more.”

You ignored Agent Peña’s urging to wait, walking toward the door until you found your path blocked by the agent himself. When you tried to step around him, his large hand wrapped gently around your wrist. “You can’t leave yet. We have to stay in this room for a while longer. About another hour.”

“Why?” you demanded, pulse suddenly picking up. “Are we being watched?”

Peña rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not in the way you mean.”

“In what way then?”

“There are DEA agents stationed around the building. If anyone associated with Escobar even looks in this direction, they’ll call me on that phone.” Peña jerked his thumb in the direction of the room’s phone, sitting silently on the bedside table. “If that happens, I’ll get you out of here the back way.”

“I’m glad the DEA takes such good care of its informants,” you mused, pulling away from him. “I’ll assume it was a hard-learned lesson.”

From the flex in the muscles of Peña’s jaw, your guess had been a direct hit. Still, he pressed, “You can’t leave yet.”

“Yes, I remember. Another hour.” You sighed, smoothing your blouse as you crossed the room once more. You didn’t sit on the bed, instead opting for the small table tucked neatly into a corner.

Agent Peña joined you, his hand brushing over the small of your back as he passed you to take the seat opposite the one you were about to settle into. When you were both seated and watching each other, Peña leaned forward to break the silence.

“Why are you in such a hurry to get out of here? You got a boyfriend you didn’t list in your interview?”

You blinked at the suddenness of the personal question. “I had to fill out an extensive file before the DEA would even consider accepting my information. You know I’m single, but you didn’t know I’m not a prostitute? Why did the DEA want a file if no one is going to read it?”

“Ease down, hermosa,” he told you, gesturing as if you were a spooked horse. “I didn’t read your file. I doubt anyone did other than my supervisor. All I knew was your name and where I could find you. My coworkers were the ones who said you were my usual kind of informant.”

“You have terrible coworkers,” you informed him. 

He gave you a sheepish grin that somehow made you doubt its sincerity. “That may have been an honest mistake. My usual informants are prostitutes, but the United States government isn’t happy paying them off. I usually list them as nurses in my receipts.”

You frowned. “I know you think that made you sound better, but it really didn’t.”

“It’s a compliment,” he said. “Lots of pretty women in both fields.”

“There are male nurses.”

“There are male prostitutes, too. Not my thing, but I know there’s a market.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to volunteer any more information to the handsome agent than was necessary, but you hoped to end the conversation. “I am single.”

“I figured as much.”

You couldn’t fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Yes, you’ve proven you have a keen understanding of human behavior.”

Peña’s mouth twitched. “I do, actually. If I had taken another minute or two, I would have been able to tell that you weren’t a prostitute.”

“Is that so?” you challenged. You weren’t overly offended by his incorrect initial assumption of your occupation, but listening to him backpedal was entertaining. “How would you have guessed?”

“First, it wouldn’t have been a guess. It would be my keen understanding of human behavior,” Peña reminded you. He leaned forward a moment later, pinning you with the intensity of his dark eyes. “Second, a prostitute wouldn’t react the way you do when I touch you. Not unless she was the most expensive prostitute in Medellín.”

Your heartbeat picked up pace, but you did your best to feign disinterest as you asked, “And how exactly do I react when you touch me?”

“That’s the point - that you do react.” He leaned back, a smirk playing across those full lips. “You shiver when I touch your arm, your heart pounds when I hold your hand. I thought you would hurt something with the way you tensed when I put my hand on your back.”

“Maybe I just hate you.” It wasn’t true, but you fervently hoped he believed it.

Peña dashed those hopes an instant later when he smirked at you. “If you did, you wouldn’t be staring at my mouth.”

Damn. And you thought your admiration had been subtle.

“So not only did I know you weren’t a prostitute,” Peña summarized, looking amazingly self-satisfied, “but I could also tell that you’re single. Unless your boyfriend wasn’t treating you right. You need someone to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” you replied automatically.

Peña’s smirk only widened. “I hear that too much of that can give you carpal tunnel.”

You gaped at his crassness. For your entire acquaintance, Peña had been vacillating between attractive and irritating. At the moment, he was definitely falling closer to irritating. “This conversation is ridiculous.”

“Okay, but you’re attracted to me and I’m attracted to you,” he pointed out. “And we’re stuck in a hotel room for the next hour.”

The man had gone from asking if you were a prostitute to propositioning you, all in the span of a few minutes. You couldn’t keep up. “Peña…”

“I’m clean. Just got tested last week.” He shrugged. “It’s your choice. All of it is your choice. Give us more intel, don’t. Sleep with me, don’t. But personally, I think you could stand to loosen up. At least this way, you don’t have to worry about finding someone, seeing if they’re interested, and trying to avoid a relationship.”

“Why would I avoid a relationship?” you asked before you could think better of it.

Peña gave you a disparaging look. “You’re a personal doctor for Pablo Escobar’s family and you’re giving intel about him to the DEA. I’ll keep it under wraps, but you know the risks. I don’t think you’re too concerned with starting something serious right now. You’ve got enough serious going on.”

He wasn’t wrong. About any of it, if you were being honest. Your job kept you busy, and moonlighting for the Escobar family made things even more difficult. Pablo was pushing you to leave the hospital and work for him full-time, traveling with his family and their sicarios. You couldn’t do that, but the conflicting responsibilities were backing you into a particularly dangerous corner.

And as for being attracted to Peña, you could freely admit that was true. You had found him magnetic since he had stepped into the hotel room, despite the fact that he was an asshole and regularly slept with prostitutes. There were so many reasons you should turn him down and watch television until you were free to leave. Hell, you saw and treated enough STDs at the hospital to know the risks of sleeping with someone you barely knew. But he had said he was clean and… you believed him. You weren’t sure why, but you did.

Peña had been watching as you struggled with your own motivations, and you finally met his gaze. You frowned. “I don’t like you.”

“You don’t really need to,” he countered.

It was an excellent point. “Do you have a condom?”

“Always.” 

“Fine.”

Peña barked out a short laugh as you stood and turned back to the bed. He stopped laughing as you lifted your shirt off over your head and deposited it in a nearby chair. His eyes were dark as he watched you slip off your shoes and reach for your bra. 

You lifted a brow. “Keep up, Peña. We only have an hour.”

You had never seen a man so eager to obey an order. Peña fumbled for a moment as he pulled a condom from his wallet, but the moment he had it free, he set to work removing his clothes. 

When you had finished draping your clothing onto the chair, Peña’s eyes locked on your bare form. “On the bed, hermosa. I’ll be there in a second.”

He was trying to do what you had done: drape his outfit somewhere so it wouldn’t be wrinkled when you got dressed once more. But with the way he haphazardly tossed his shirt and pants onto the table, you knew it wouldn’t do much good. 

Peña turned back as you were crawling to the center of the bed and he let out a deep groan. When he joined you, lying on his side to mirror you, his hard length bobbed between his legs. 

He was larger than you had expected. You had a moment to wonder if you would regret agreeing to this deal before Peña gently grasped your chin, pulling your face to break the staring contest. “Don’t worry about that for right now. I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

“Please,” you said, noting the pleasure that bloomed in his eyes when you did. 

You were almost more nervous about this kiss than anything that would follow. Peña’s lips had captivated you with their plushness and you would hate for them to be a disappointment. You shouldn’t have worried - your breath caught in the moment before your lips touched and Peña hummed softly as if to encourage you, his hand settling solidly into the curve of your waist.

The kiss was tentative at first, but settled into something languid as you began exploring each other. Peña seemed infinitely patient, but your temperature was soaring until it felt like you were burning with the need for more. You nipped at his bottom lip and deepened the kiss until it was something messy and heated. Peña’s thumb stroked gently over your side before he began to move lower.

That was fine with you. In fact, you felt encouraged to continue your own explorations. You let your hands travel across Peña’s back and deliberately downward until you could squeeze the firmness of his ass. 

He made a surprised noise and you swallowed it with a laugh. Peña’s lips tightened with his own smile, but he soon took revenge as his fingertips brushed between your legs. You groaned, bracing your foot against the bed to push your knees further apart. That gave him the space he needed to toy with your clit, fingers exploring your folds.

Everything seemed to shift a moment later as Peña pushed you onto your back and leaned over you. Your lips - having separated from his to avoid chipping a tooth or something equally mood-ruining - parted around a silent gasp as he sank a finger into you.

You managed to keep from making any noise… until he started to thrust that finger inside of you. “Peña,” you said, hating how much it sounded like a whimper.

“Shh, baby,” he soothed. “I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You probably would have objected to that if he hadn’t pushed another finger into you. Instead, you gasped out his name again, lifting your hips as if to encourage him. Instead, all you did was crush his forearm where it was resting on your lower stomach - and brush against his cock where it was pressed between you. 

Peña’s entire body jolted away from you at the touch. The sole exception were his hips, which pushed toward you as if begging to keep in contact with the softness of your skin. How could you ignore such a plea? 

You reached between you, finding Peña’s length first with your fingertips, and then wrapping your entire hand around him. He hissed out something that could have been a curse or your name or a prayer. All you knew was that you liked the sound of it, and you stroked the velvety skin in hopes of pulling the noise from him again.

Above you, Peña bared his teeth, fingers working faster inside of you. Somehow, this had turned into a battle of wills and it was clear that you were losing. The tension became overwhelming as your stomach tightened and your body started to contract around his fingers in long, lazy waves.

When you were slack beneath him, Peña pulled his hand away from you and relaxed slightly. His mouth returned to yours, lips gentle despite the insistent hardness you could feel prodding at your hip. By the time you had caught your breath, Peña had stoked your body back to a fever pitch of wet wanting and you were struggling to keep from wriggling against the pillows. Then his tongue slid along yours and you lost that particular battle. 

“I guess that means you’re ready to keep going, then,” Peña said, lips quirking. “Normally, I like to do a little more for my partners…”

The way he trailed off, glancing meaning toward your core with his lips pursed, made his meaning clear, but you shook your head. “We’re short on time. I remember.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, moving away for a moment. For a strange moment, you thought he was getting out of bed, but you soon realized he had retrieved the condom from the bedside table and was rolling it over his length.

As Peña settled his hips between your thighs, you took a brief moment to check in with yourself. Was this still something you wanted? To sleep with a man you didn’t know, didn’t trust, and didn’t like?

Peña glanced down at you, lifting his eyebrows to check that you were still interested. Maybe he was an asshole, but you wanted him badly. For once, you were going to forget about your plans and responsibilities. You could do something for yourself. More specifically, you could do Peña.

You nodded and Peña recaptured your lips as his hips surged forward. It was a good thing he had kept your mouth busy, because something between a gasp and a wail fought its way out of you. His fingers had been a lot, but they had been nothing compared to Peña’s full length. You felt stretched, invaded. He pushed himself in shallow thrusts, working his way deeper inside of you until your hips were flush. 

It wasn’t clear who broke the kiss first, because you both seemed to need a moment.

You were panting, eyes closed as you tried to reconcile yourself with the stretch of having Peña buried to the root in your channel. Maybe it wouldn’t have been quite so intense if it hadn’t been so long since you had slept with anyone. Or maybe it was just him.

For his part, Peña had his forehead pressed against yours. You didn’t know if his eyes were open or closed since yours were squeezed shut, but he was definitely talking. Assuming you could call it talking. He seemed to be repeating variations of, “Shit. Shit. You’re so tight. Not gonna- Not gonna last long. Shit. You’re so- you’re perfect. Feels so good. So tight. Shit.” 

By the time he had been through this litany a few times, your body had started to change its mind about how Peña felt inside of you. Your channel had adjusted, your walls stretching until you didn’t feel like you were going to split in two. In fact, you were having the opposite problem now: the weight of Peña on top of you, the feeling of him inside… you needed more.

“Peña,” you muttered, frowning. You still weren’t willing to open your eyes, so you couldn’t tell if he could hear you over the sound of his own desperation. “Peña.”

The frantic tumble of words paused. “Yeah?”

“I really need you to start moving,” you told him. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re still really-”

He was going to say ‘tight’, you could tell, but you squeezed your internal muscles around him, letting out a little sigh at the feeling. Peña’s hips stabbed forward automatically, seeming to move on pure instinct. 

“You’re really ready?”

“I said I was.”

“Then open your eyes.”

You responded to the challenge, cracking your lids open to peer up at him. He was studying your face intently, though you didn’t know exactly what he was searching for. 

The silence stretched until your inner muscles spasmed around him and your lids fluttered. “Are you going to move now, or do I have to do something drastic?”

“Much as I’d like to see that,” he started, withdrawing from you with a deliciously thick pull, “I’ll start moving.”

And then he did, plunging himself back into you with a strength and sharpness that drove the air from your lungs, forcing a small cry along with it. He paused, eyebrows raised and you panted. “Keep going.”

Peña took you at your word, settling into a driving rhythm that left you jolting and scrabbling at the sheets. Your hips lifted and fell with him, participating as smoothly as if it was a choreographed dance. And maybe it was, in a way. Humanity’s oldest dance. And you reluctantly admitted that Peña was one of the best dance partners you’d ever had.

He seemed intuitive, somehow. You had known him for such an incredibly short span of time, but he was listening to your body and responding accordingly. 

When your thighs started to cramp, he reached down to wrap your legs around his waist instead. 

When you had worked your way too far up the bed and your head was in danger of hitting the headboard, he wrapped you in strong arms and pulled you more tightly against himself. 

And when you were gliding tantalizingly close to the orgasm you could feel shining on the horizon, his head dipped down and captured one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and nibbling and laving it with his tongue until you were pushed over the edge.

You said something as you came, you were sure of it. Maybe it was his name, but you didn’t know for sure. The roaring of your blood in your ears was too loud to hear past.

The feeling of Peña pistoning inside of you drew out your orgasm so long that you were left utterly spent at the end of it. Your eyes were closed once more, your mouth slack as you tried to regain your ability to think.

Above you, Peña’s breathing had changed to something harsh and desperate. He was still fucking into you, but his rhythm was beginning to stutter. As he moved, he hit something inside of you that sent an aftershock ricocheting through your spent body, tightening your tired muscles. You moaned, hands coming up to brace yourself on Peña’s shoulders. 

Something in the moment must have pushed Peña over the edge. He buried himself in your center, shudders racing over his body until he slumped heavily on top of you. He was panting as if he had just run a marathon.

You were torn as higher thought returned to you. You liked a bit of closeness after sex, you always had. But you didn’t know Peña that well. More importantly, he was heavy. 

Fortunately, he solved the puzzle himself, rolling off of you but not so far that you weren’t touching anymore. You caught your breath in shared silence, but Peña broke it before it could grow uncomfortable.

“That was almost perfect on time,” he said, glancing at the clock on the beside table. 

It was a good way to get yourselves moving again, you had to admit. It wasn’t overly harsh, but it reminded you both that there was a clear line here. You weren’t dating, weren’t friends, weren’t anything. You were essentially strangers, ones who had decided to scratch a biological itch together.

You rolled toward the edge of the bed. “Guess I’d better clean up and get dressed, then.”

Peña started to say something behind you, but cut himself off before you could even guess what it would be. Instead, you heard him shifting against the sheets and assumed he was removing the condom.

Since you were already in the bathroom by that point, you offered the small trashcan around the corner so he could dispose of it without any more fuss than necessary. There was a pause before the bit of latex hit the can, but not a long one. You wet a washcloth to give yourself a businesslike swipe between the legs, cleaning up the majority of the evidence of how you had spent your time in the hotel room.

When you walked back into the main room, Peña had started to get dressed, his clothing already slightly wrinkled from the way it had been bunched on the table. Your own clothing was fine, and you had put yourself back together in only minutes. Your hair was slightly worse for wear, but nothing too noticeable. If anyone asked, you could tell them you had been trying not to pull it out during your interactions with Peña. You got the sense he was known for being frustrating - even in government agencies.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘Peña’ during sex before,” he commented casually.

You paused, thinking that over. It sounded bad, but… “I only know you as Peña. No one, including you, ever told me your first name.”

He shook his head wryly. “It’s Javier.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Javier,” you said.

“You-” Peña cut himself off, clearing his throat. “You can call me Javi.”

“Javi,” you repeated softly. 

His gaze grew intense once more, but the phone rang.

In a moment, Peña had pushed you further into the room, maneuvering you until you were around a corner from the door. He stood shielding you from the window with his body. “Get down while I answer that.”

How a sniper or anyone else was going to attack you through a closed door or a window with the heavy curtains drawn was beyond you, but you did as Peña ordered.

The phone call was short and in English. You couldn’t tell if either of those were a good sign or a bad one. When he put the phone back on its hook, he nodded at you. “They’re ready for us to go. You’ll leave first and then I’ll follow. We’ll be in contact if we need anything else from you. And if you find out any more information you want to share, you know how to contact us.”

You nodded, heart beating faster for some inexplicable reason. 

Peña opened the drawer below the telephone, retrieving the small notepad and pen he found there. He scrawled something on a piece of paper, then tore it out and handed it to you. “And here is how you can contact me directly. The first one is for my work phone and the second is my home phone. If you don’t get an answer at work, call my home phone. If I don’t answer that, leave a message. Do not say your name, just tell me when you’ll call back. I’ll know it’s you.”

You nodded again, this time a little too fast and shaky. It was a lot of information and, even as you were struggling to absorb all of it, you were suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. You were in danger. You would continue to be in danger for the rest of your life, as long as Pablo Escobar lived.

“Hey,” Peña said lowly, drawing your attention back to him. “Be careful. You may know Escobar, but you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

No matter how soothing you found his confidence, Peña’s tone of superiority irked you. You snatched the piece of paper from his hand, folding it with motions made jerky with irritation. “I do know. I know better than anyone.”

Peña scoffed. “You’re a nurse. I get called to look at the bodies of anyone who may have been killed by Escobar or his sicarios.”

“I may not be DEA, agente, but I live in Colombia. I see bodies almost every day. Maybe not as many as you do, but you see the ones Escobar killed. I see the ones he hurt. The ones who have to live with what he did to them, have to live with it every day. And I honestly don’t know which is worse.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and Peña tracked the motion. “Let’s try not to figure it out. We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.”

“Worry about yourself, Peña,” you countered, not unkindly. “You’re in just as much danger as I am, if not more.”

With that, you left the hotel room. When you had gone in, you were a nurse and an unwilling staff member of Pablo Escobar. When you left, you were an informant to the United States DEA. Your life had irrevocably changed, but it had been the right call. You were sure of it.

---

Author's Note - I tried, but I couldn't find any information about travel between Colombia and Mexico for Mexican citizens during the majority of Escobar's exploits. I'm not really sure if the reader could leave as easily as she claims she could. Just stating that outright in case anyone had some different information!

Thanks for reading! I'll be back with the second chapter tomorrow!

[normanbased]

headcanons for cornelius hackl running his own business !!

(I’m including Ermengarde and Ambrose because they’re in the original play, and I love/miss them so much that I’d like to pretend they were in the movie <3 under a cut Cus I wrote a lot)

Cornelius would be super nervous running a business by himself at first. When he was still head clerk at the hay & feed store, he always had a boss above him who he could take orders from, and an apprentice below him who he could dish orders out to. Having all the responsibility of running a business thrown in his lap at once was a little overwhelming.

Sometimes the anxiety of not knowing what to do or how to increase revenue would overwhelm him so bad that he’d just close the store without warning just to catch a break. Obviously, that didn’t help with profits.

His first venture was a small general store. It got some pretty regular patronage from locals, but because he didn’t specialise in stocking materials for any trades he struggled to get consistent profits.

He didn’t really have the funds to start investing in hay and feed stock, one of the few trades he really understood. It felt a little scummy to try and weasel into Mr Vandergelder’s trade too, especially when he was right down the street.

It was only after a passing comment from Ambrose one afternoon about the store being as quiet as a library that Cornelius had the idea to start stocking books. After the first wave of inventory sold out in under a week, he knew he’d found a potential foothold and committed to changing trajectory.

He was able to convince Ambrose to help him paint new signs and posters (for a fee of course) and Ermengarde was actually the one who approached Cornelius to ask if she could help to organise the catalogue. She took really naturally to archiving, and the job was worth taking considering Ambrose’s commission orders were still rather inconsistent. It took a big weight off Cornelius’ shoulders and let him focus more on rotating orders and working on finances.

The store mostly made its gains in reader’s digests and novels, but books about travel, warfare, and romance were also big sellers. Cornelius started sending Ermengarde and Barnaby off into New York regularly to bring in requested orders, which boosted popularity even more. People really appreciated being able to order in books instead of needing to take trips to New York themselves.

The store got a lot more clientele once they started specialising in books, and even more so when the non-fiction options were expanded. Cornelius had real-life scientists coming into his store looking for the latest textbooks. Even budding local authors and poets started poking their heads in to see what new publications from New York were available. Eventually he realised that he could coax even more patronage by offering more practical services.

Barnaby would always be on call to run over and help out if things got busy. The little guy would run himself dizzy between the hay & feed store and Cornelius’ place, and eventually when Mr Vandergelder took on a few more apprentices, he let Barnaby split his hours between the two stores more fairly.

Cornelius formulated a really good plan for expanding the bookstore’s horizons, so he recruited Barnaby onto his planning team (who was always eager to do weekend work) and the two of them got busy studying the art of bookbinding. Once they’d cracked the trade, Cornelius took a big risk and splashed a lot of revenue on some rather expensive Caligraph typewriters - five or six of them :]

Soon enough, the bookbinding gig developed into an independent publishing outlet where people could pay an hourly rate to use the typewriters, and a service fee for optional bookbinding. When the option opened up for customers to stock their own books on a “local publications” shelf, the store’s popularity absolutely skyrocketed.

Cornelius’ confidence got a lot better once the store found its niche, and it gave him time to even whittle away at some mediocre poetry. He put it on the shelf under different pseudonyms and freaked OUT when people actually started buying it.

He enjoys doing the practical work of bookbinding and copying a lot more than the finance side of things, so I think after a while he brings someone in to be his accountant. Before then though I can just imagine him sat at a desk calculating taxes by candle light with his glasses on <3 trying and failing not to fall asleep.

It really helps that his gaggle of friends were eager to work for/with him too, so he isn’t lugging equipment and leather sheets and massive hardback volumes around all by himself. He has Barnaby carry most of it for him, obviously.

Oh, and on lunch hour? All of them head over to the hay & feed store for snacks and sandwiches with Horace and Dolly :]] Horace shares his autobiography drafts with Cornelius all the time as well and keeps talking about buying shares in the business.

[mollydsails]

October 30 - Winyah Bay to Charleston, 50 miles. Today Molly D once again transited the ICW. Offshore wind was ok, but the 3-5’ seas would’ve made the offshore trip of 60 miles quite uncomfortable. Our ICW transit wasn’t smooth, as there were numerous shallow (as in 7’-8’) spots to navigate through. Our transit today took us through “wilderness” and populated areas.

A fire watch station along the ICW (?)

A passing IP owner took these beautiful photos of Molly D.

Beautiful boat!

Molly D and a trawler type boat named Escape have been passing each other on the ICW since Portsmouth, VA. We have, by chance, stopped in many of the same towns at night. Today when Escape passed Molly D, I heard the captain yell “See ya tomorrow!” How funny! Only Molly D won’t be moving on the ICW again until Saturday.

Today most of our passage occurred during low tide. Great for bridge clearances, but not so great for shallower parts of the ICW. Molly D followed the Bob423 tracks and avoided the shallowest of water.

Yep. Low tide.

No water not too far from the ICW channel

A Barbie boat!

My other boat is a former commercial lifeboat.

The hardest part of today’s trip was the Isle of Palms portion of the ICW. Timing is everything in this area as high tide has plenty of water for passage but any tide lower than high tide is very shallow in spots. As in a 3’ depth. Molly D was grounded in this stretch of the ICW last year, with only 4’ of water under her keel (she needs 5’). We avoid traveling the Isle of Palms as often as possible by going offshore. Offshore was not a good option for Molly D today. Bob423, who is THE authority on ICW travel, developed a bypass around the shoaling in IOP. He found a side channel (which really looks like a shallow creek) that had plenty of water, even at low tide, to bypass the shallows. Molly D took that bypass route today. She never had less than 7’ under her keel. Most of the bypass had water depths from 10’ to over 20’!! If it weren’t for Bob’s efforts, no one would even think of trying this bypass. As the saying goes, “In Bob We Trust”!

When in Charleston, Molly D likes to dock at the Charleston Maritime Center. Unfortunately, the Maritime Center suffered significant damage to its docks during the last hurricane. Our second marina choice is the City Marina (a Safe Harbor Marina). Their dockage rates have soared. We ended up booking a slip at the Charleston Resort and Marina across the river in Mt Pleasant. It cost us $200 less than the Safe Harbor Marina! Safe Harbor is close to downtown Charleston, and the marina offers a free shuttle into town. The Charleston Resort Marina is across the river from downtown Charleston. The resort provides hourly free shuttle bus transportation into downtown Charleston. We will check that out tomorrow.

After Molly D was docked, David and I desperately wanted a shore shower. What a huge disappointment!!! The shower ”room” was about the size of a closet. Not kidding! When the room’s doors was closed, there was about 2’ of floor space between the door and the shower curtain. No bench for your stuff. Plenty of hooks, but if your stuff falls off a hook, it ends up on the wet floor. There was no air circulation in that tiny room. So humid! You want to dry your hair?? Well get out of the shower “room” and head to the adjacent restroom to dry your hair. Not an ideal shower situation! Molly D has more shower room than the shore shower! It’s settled. Shower on Molly D.

Tonight we ate at one of the marina’s restaurants. Big mistake. Mediocre “bar” food. Lesson learned.

Tomorrow night we will be having supper with boat friends that we met 2 years ago in Annapolis. This couple lives in Mt Pleasant (about 10 minutes from the marina) and they dock their boat in Charleston. Yeah, we kinda sorta have boat friends in many ports along the east coast.

Molly D at the dock.

Only 740 miles to Key West!!!

The drinks were the best part of our evening meal

[southgatetravels]

Self-Drive Car Rental in Trivandrum: Explore the City at Your Own Pace

Trivandrum, the capital city of Kerala, is a blend of rich cultural heritage and modern development. Whether you’re visiting for business, leisure, or just to explore the local attractions, one of the best ways to experience the city is by opting for a self-drive car rental. It gives you the flexibility to travel on your own schedule, discover hidden gems, and enjoy the comfort of a personal vehicle without the hassle of owning one.

Why Choose Self-Drive Car Rentals in Trivandrum?

Self-drive car rentals have gained immense popularity in Trivandrum, offering several advantages for travelers and locals alike:

Freedom and Flexibility With a self-drive car, you are in control of your travel itinerary. Whether it’s a quick drive to Kovalam Beach or a road trip to nearby destinations like Ponmudi, having your own vehicle allows you to make impromptu stops and take detours to explore off-the-beaten-path locations.

No Dependency on Drivers Unlike chauffeur-driven rentals, self-drive options allow you to enjoy privacy and independence. You don’t need to depend on a driver’s availability or preferences, giving you complete freedom to explore the city at your own pace.

Cost-Effective Self-drive car rentals are a cost-effective solution compared to using taxis or ride-hailing services, especially for extended trips or multiple-day plans. It also eliminates the need for tipping or other expenses associated with hiring a driver.

Variety of Vehicle Options Car rental companies in Trivandrum offer a wide variety of vehicles to suit different needs. Whether you need a small hatchback for city driving, a sedan for extra comfort, or an SUV for a family trip, there are plenty of options to choose from.

Safe and Sanitized Most self-drive car rental services maintain strict hygiene standards, ensuring that the vehicles are cleaned and sanitized before each trip. This has become especially important in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, providing a safer travel option for users.

Popular Places to Visit with a Self-Drive Car in Trivandrum

With a self-drive car, you can easily explore Trivandrum and its surrounding attractions. Some must-visit places include:

Kovalam Beach A short drive from the city, Kovalam Beach is famous for its crescent-shaped coastline, golden sands, and scenic beauty. It’s a perfect spot for sunbathing, swimming, or enjoying a fresh seafood meal by the shore.

Sree Padmanabhaswamy Temple One of the most iconic landmarks in Trivandrum, this temple is a stunning example of Dravidian architecture. While the temple itself is a major attraction, the drive through the city’s historical area is equally charming.

Ponmudi Hill Station For those looking for a serene escape from the city, Ponmudi is an ideal destination. A self-drive car makes the journey comfortable and allows you to take in the breathtaking views of the lush Western Ghats along the way.

Agasthyakoodam A trekker’s paradise, Agasthyakoodam is one of the highest peaks in Kerala. While the trek itself requires preparation, the drive to the base offers a scenic route filled with natural beauty.

Veli Tourist Village Located near the airport, Veli Tourist Village is a popular family destination with boating, gardens, and a children’s park. It’s a great place for a leisurely day out and can be conveniently reached by car.

How to Choose the Right Self-Drive Car Rental in Trivandrum

When opting for a self-drive car rental in Trivandrum, consider the following factors to ensure a hassle-free experience:

Vehicle Type Choose a vehicle that suits your travel needs. If you’re navigating the city’s narrow lanes, a compact car might be ideal. For longer road trips or family outings, consider renting a larger sedan or SUV.

Rental Duration Many rental services offer flexible plans ranging from hourly to weekly rates. Be clear about the duration of your rental and choose a plan that offers the best value for your trip.

Insurance and Safety Ensure that the rental car comes with adequate insurance coverage, including liability and accident protection. This ensures peace of mind during your journey.

Pick-Up and Drop-Off Points Many self-drive car rental services in Trivandrum provide convenient pick-up and drop-off locations, including at the airport, railway stations, or major hotels. Some companies may even offer doorstep delivery for added convenience.

Fuel Policy Understand the fuel policy before renting the car. Some companies provide the vehicle with a full tank, expecting it to be returned with a full tank, while others might operate on a pay-for-use basis.

Top Car Rental Companies in Trivandrum

Here are some leading car rental providers in Trivandrum that offer reliable and affordable self-drive options:

Southgate Travels Known for its diverse fleet and excellent customer service, Southgate Travels is a popular choice for self-drive car rentals in Trivandrum. They offer competitive pricing, well-maintained vehicles, and flexible rental plans to suit different needs.

Zoomcar A nationwide player in the self-drive car rental market, Zoomcar offers a variety of vehicles in Trivandrum. Their app-based booking system makes it easy to reserve a car in just a few minutes.

IndusGo IndusGo is another trusted name in Kerala’s self-drive car rental market. They offer a wide range of cars, from compact hatchbacks to premium SUVs, and are known for their transparent pricing and customer support.

Revv Revv offers a seamless experience for users with their doorstep delivery and easy online booking. Their fleet includes a wide selection of cars suited for both city driving and long-distance road trips.

Why Choose Southgate Travels for Self-Drive Car Rentals?

When it comes to self-drive car rentals in Trivandrum, Southgate Travels stands out as a reliable and customer-friendly option. Here’s why:

Wide Selection of Vehicles: Southgate Travels offers an extensive fleet of cars to choose from, including economy hatchbacks, sedans, and SUVs.

Affordable Pricing: With competitive rates and flexible rental durations, you can find a plan that suits your budget.

Convenient Pick-Up Locations: Whether you’re arriving at Trivandrum International Airport or need a car delivered to your doorstep, Southgate Travels provides hassle-free pick-up and drop-off services.

Well-Maintained Fleet: All vehicles are regularly serviced and maintained to ensure safety and comfort for every journey.

24/7 Customer Support: The dedicated support team is available round-the-clock to assist with any queries or concerns during your rental period.

Conclusion

A self-drive car rental in Trivandrum offers the perfect combination of convenience, flexibility, and comfort. Whether you’re exploring the city’s iconic landmarks or heading out on a scenic road trip, renting a car allows you to experience everything Trivandrum has to offer at your own pace.

For reliable and affordable self-drive car rentals in Trivandrum, choose Southgate Travels and enjoy a seamless experience from start to finish. With a variety of vehicles and excellent customer service, your journey is sure to be a memorable one.

[frontierairlinessrfo]

How Do I Speak to A Live Person at Frontier Airlines?

In order to be a low-cost carrier, the business offers a variety of benefits and features, as well as other services and facilities. Cheap last-minute flights and Frontier Online flight booking at lower rates are among the features that make this airline the preferred option for people who are traveling or intend to fly on a budget. One of the key benefits that many travelers take advantage of is that Frontier flight quotes are updated hourly for the best airfare offers. The business provides rates that are significantly lower than those of its competitors and updates them on an hourly basis on its websites for the benefit of travelers or informs them by other means such as messages. And not many other airlines have the same level of service. This, in turn, helps the company to benefit from travelers who make cheap last-minute flight bookings, whether online or at the counter, as a result of the company's hourly offer updates. However, the organization has certain regulations about bags and luggage. For starters, the Carry-On bags cannot be larger than the dimensions stated on the website. The bag (including belts, handles, and wheels) cannot be more than twenty-four inches tall, sixteen inches wide, or ten inches in diameter. Furthermore, the bag cannot weigh more than 35 pounds, or it will be fined. The bags must also fit in the overhead bin. Call the Frontier Reservations Number to book a ticket: A traveler has three options when it comes to booking a flight. The first choice is to go to the counter and purchase a ticket. The second choice is to purchase the ticket online. The third and most convenient choice is to book a ticket by calling the Frontier Airlines Reservations Number. This is the quickest and most convenient way to purchase a ticket. You could be anywhere in the world and still book a flight. Your booking request will be handled by a service representative who will walk you through the whole process. Furthermore, if you have any questions, you can ask the representative before booking a ticket. What is Frontier Airlines Baggage Policy? If you are flying with Frontier Airlines, make sure you have packed your luggage in accordance with the airline's carrier's restrictions. If you are flying on Frontier airline flights for the first time, it is always necessary to understand the check-in policy so that you can pack your luggage properly. You can read the following information: 1) Carry-on Baggage: 1 personal item, such as a briefcase, purse, or laptop bag, is free, and 1 carry-on item is chargeablepiolsubject to baggage fees that differ depending on your order. Each bag should not be larger than 24 x 16 x 10 inches, and each object should fit properly in the overhead bin or in front of your seat. Charges will apply if any bag reaches the cap. 2) Checked Baggage: Passengers are permitted to bring two checked bags with them on the flight. Checked luggage is not included in the fare and must be charged separately for each suitcase. Each bag should be no larger than 157 cm in length and no heavier than 50 pounds. Any baggage that exceeds the cap or weight will be charged baggage fees. Musical Instruments: Musical instruments such as a guitar, violin, and others are permitted to be carried as carry-on items on Frontier Airlines. Make certain that each instrument can be stored in the overhead bin or in front of your seat. It's also a good idea to understand Frontier Airlines' policy on musical instruments. ​

[ajepicbusrentals]

Frequently Asked Questions About Bus Rental Services in Dubai

1. What types of buses do you offer for rental?

We offer a diverse fleet, including:

Mini Buses: Perfect for small groups (up to 15 passengers).

Standard Buses: Ideal for medium-sized groups (up to 30 passengers).

Luxury Coaches: Designed for larger groups (up to 50 passengers) with plush seating and additional amenities.

2. How do I book a bus rental?

Booking is easy! You can:

Visit Our Website: Fill out the online booking form or put a text on our whatsapp.

Contact Our Team: Call us or  email, and we’ll assist you.

Provide Details: Include your travel date, destination, group size, and specific requirements.

3. What is included in the rental price?

Our rental price typically includes:

Bus rental for the agreed duration.

Professional driver services.

Fuel costs.

Basic insurance coverage.

Additional amenities or special requests may incur extra charges.

4. Are there any cancellation fees?

Yes, we have a cancellation policy. If you cancel:

More than 7 days in advance: Full refund.

3 to 7 days in advance: 50% of the rental fee.

Less than 3 days in advance: No refund.

5. Can I customize my itinerary?

Absolutely! Our bus rental services in Dubai allow you to customize your itinerary based on your needs. Just let us know your preferences.

6. Are your buses equipped with amenities?

Yes, our buses feature:

Air conditioning

Comfortable seating

Audio/visual systems

Wi-Fi (upon request)

7. Do you provide transportation for events?

Yes, we specialize in transportation for:

Weddings

Corporate functions

School trips

Sightseeing tours

Group tours

Family trips

We ensure smooth logistics for all attendees.

8. What safety measures do you have in place?

Safety is our top priority. Our measures include:

Regular maintenance and inspections.

Professional drivers who prioritize safe practices.

Insurance coverage for passengers.

9. Is it possible to add extra stops during the rental?

Yes, you can add extra stops. Inform us when booking, and we’ll accommodate your request.

10. How can I contact you for more inquiries?

For inquiries about our bus rental services in Dubai, you can:

Call Us: Our customer service team is here to help.

 Email Us: Reach out, and we’ll respond promptly.

Visit Our Website: Use the contact form for questions.

Conclusion

We hope this Q&A addresses your inquiries regarding our bus rental services in Dubai. At Aj EPIC, we are committed to providing reliable and high-quality transportation solutions tailored to your needs. If you have any more questions or are ready to book your bus rental, contact us today!

33 to 50 Seater Bus Rental Rates for Dubai and Other Emirates with a Driver

How much does it cost to rent a 50-seater bus in Dubai?

The cost of renting a 50-seater tour bus in Dubai varies based on several factors. Ideal for accommodating 35 to 50 passengers with luggage, the daily rate typically ranges from AED 950 to AED 1,600. This rate includes a professional driver, fuel, and Salik charges.

 

Comprehensive Rental Details for 35 to 50-Seater Bus Coaches for 30 to 45 People:

Daily Rates: Starting from AED 950 to AED 1,600ServiceRate (AED)DetailsOne-Way Transfer within Dubai (Arrival)AED 935Arrival service.One-Way Transfer within Dubai (Departure)AED 700Departure service.5-Hour Transfer within Dubai (Lunch & Dinner)AED 1,000Transfers for lunch & dinner.10-Hour Tour within DubaiAED 1,250Includes multiple location visits.10-Hour Out-of-Town Tour (Abu Dhabi & Sharjah)AED 1,500Out-of-town tours included.Additional Hourly RateAED 115For each hour exceeded.

Great for day trips, special events, or one-time transportation needs. The package includes a skilled driver and fuel.

Weekly Rates:

Starting from AED 7,400 to AED 9,000

Perfect for week-long events, corporate functions, or short-term projects. Includes a driver and fuel for a standard 10-hour daily rental.

Monthly Rates:

Starting from AED 15,500 to AED 22,500

Ideal for long-term projects, staff transportation, or continuous transportation needs. Includes a professional driver and fuel for a standard 10-hour daily rental, six days a week, and up to 5,000 kilometers per month.

 

Key Features:

Comfortable Seating: Accommodates 35 to 45 passengers.

Well-Maintained Buses: Air-conditioned and in excellent condition.

Professional Drivers: Experienced and reliable.

Comprehensive Insurance: All-inclusive coverage for your peace of mind.

Flexible Rental Durations: Tailored to meet your specific needs.

Note: Prices are approximate and may vary based on rental duration, seasonal demand, and additional services requested. For precise rates and to customize your rental package, please contact Aj EPIC Bus Rental directly.

This detailed guide provides an overview of the costs and services associated with renting a 50-seater bus in Dubai, helping you make an informed decision for your transportation needs.

Mini Bus Rental Rates for Dubai and Other Emirates with a Driver

How much does it cost to rent a 30-seater bus in Dubai?

The cost of renting a 30-seater bus in Dubai varies based on several factors. Ideal for groups of 14 to 20 passengers with luggage, the daily rate typically ranges from AED 700 to AED 1,100. This rate includes a professional driver, fuel, and Salik charges.

Comprehensive Rental Details for 20 to 30-Seater Minibuses for 13 to 20 People:

1. Daily Rates: Starting from AED 750 to AED 1,150ServiceRate (AED)DetailsOne-Way Transfer within Dubai (Arrival)AED 735Arrival service.One-Way Transfer within Dubai (Departure)AED 500Departure service.5-Hour Transfer within Dubai (Lunch & Dinner)AED 750Transfers for lunch & dinner.10-Hour Tour within DubaiAED 950Includes multiple location visits.10-Hour Out-of-Town Tour (Abu Dhabi & Sharjah)AED 1,150Out-of-town tours included.Additional Hourly RateAED 85For each hour exceeded.

Great for day trips, special events, or one-time transportation needs. The package includes a skilled driver and fuel for a standard 10-hour rental.

2. Weekly Rates:

Starting from AED 4,200 to AED 6,000

Perfect for week-long events, corporate functions, or short-term projects. Driver and fuel are included for a standard 10-hour daily rental.

3. Monthly Rates:

Starting from AED 9,500 to AED 13,500

Ideal for long-term projects, staff transportation, or continuous transportation needs. Includes a professional driver and fuel for a standard 10-hour daily rental, six days a week, and up to 5,000 kilometers per month.

 

Key Features:

Comfortable Seating: Accommodates 14 to 22 passengers.

Well-Maintained Buses: Air-conditioned and in excellent condition.

Professional Drivers: Experienced and reliable.

Comprehensive Insurance: All-inclusive coverage for your peace of mind.

Flexible Rental Durations: Tailored to meet your specific needs.

Note: Prices are approximate and may vary based on rental duration, seasonal demand, and additional services requested. For accurate rates and to customize your rental package, please contact Aj EPIC Bus Rental directly.

Whatsapp # +971 52 889 5684

Email: Info@ajepic.com

[uptownfocus-nbsj]

Zoning The Area For Protection

With the policies I am looking to put in place For Waterloo and the surrounding areas, this is the precise zoning outline, of the area I am hoping to protect. Starting with Waterloo street.

My first acknowledgement of Waterloo, is that it is known to be the street where what used to be illegal sex workers would go to find their clientele. This is still true, except now sex work is now branded as a legal profession, however, street prostitution is still not only illegal, but dangerous. There are now legal procedures in place for safe sex/ business practices. The same thing happened when Canada legalized Cannabis, you NOW can legally smoke it, but, because it is now a government regulated dispensary simulating the idea of a liquor store, there are guidelines, if you are traveling by vehicle regardless if you are driving or not you can only have so much on you, and you must put it in the trunk, because even the legal stuff can get you a DUI or a misdemeanour if a person of law enforcement were to find it during a pullover and search protocol. And street weed is still not only very much illegal, but dangerous, because of the fact there are insidious people looking to hook you on something more seriously addictive, via a process called lacing. My mother before her passing always warned me of this, to make sure i really know and trust the person before smoking anything they had.

As it relates to prostitution, some United States of America, have legalized brothels as a legit work place with rules and regulations. Now both the client and the sex worker have to be regularly tested for STIs, or if a symptom arises. And I would imagine the Sir/Maddam of the house, are required to pay a reasonable hourly rate for their time, and more than likely, the workers may have a say in what clients they wish to service or not service.

In both cases, these are rampant risks one takes when buying or selling on Waterloo street. But it gets worse, the drugs being sold are actual hardcore drugs, the two I have heard mentioned the most when I was in the shelter are Fentanyl and Delottas, with Fentanyl being a fan favourite. Further more, quite often sex and drugs are often a mutually beneficial trade off when one or both can’t pay for one or the other. I have heard rumours of past clients having performed oral sex for crack/coke.

When I became homeless myself last July (2023) I quickly realized it was much more than just a street you go to if you are looking for sex or drugs, this is the street that the many of the homeless people in Saint John frequent if not live. The first three consecutive buildings, are shelters, the yellow church being the Outflow men’s shelter, and the blue house beside it being the Coverdale shelter for women, (where I lived) and the building next to it, also run by Coverdale, is a residential halfway house for women getting out of prison. This creates a lot of potential for any one of these problems to lead to or perpetuate any one of the others. The sad reality is just how much of a ghost town it is in some ways, particularly that of a thriving and functioning community of productive citizens. Instead, it has become the street of broken dreams, where not to far down the road you will find “container city” (formally tent city) both very much self explanatory. And conveniently located on this street and the intersected streets I will soon talk about, you will find places of hope where you can get free meals, clothes, personal care items as well as snacks, a harm reduction site where you can get supplies for safe sex and clean pipes for substance use, and a housing service, if you ever hope to get back on your feet again.

So beginning with Waterloo. This is the street where the most resources for homeless and addicted people reside. This includes:

The Outflow Shelter for Men, (which serves a community supper from 5:30 pm to 7pm, from Sunday through Thursday)

The Coverdale Shelter for Women,

The Coverdale residential house for women getting out of prison combined with the program centre. (which now includes a full time mental health resource during business hours with Josh Redfurn, and his adorable furry assistant Penny)

Saint Vincent DePaul Church to which you go to get free clothing and snack bags.

Further down intersecting at the top of Richmond Street, is container city, (formally tent city)

Intersecting at the other side of the top of Richmond street, Outflow resource centre which serves as an emergency food pantry, in-between check days and food bank days. As well as provide a newly built hangout in their basement called the hub, whose entrance you can access in the middle of Richmond Street.

Avenue B harm reduction centre. Where you get clean pipes and condems.

Fresh Start services who works at finding subsidized housing (and has helped me get housed)

Salvation Army Church, (back entrance) which serves a community breakfast, via hope cafe, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 9:30 am to 11:30 am. During which time you can get personal care items once a month. And which also does a Celebrate Recovery Program on Monday nights starting at 6:45 pm (currently)

And if you’re lucky, you may find the Amazing Jaclyn at hope cafe doing her rounds as she does her part to save the world. (More on Jaclyn to come)

Intersecting on Waterloo is Richmond Street, and strait down the middle on the right hand side you will find what we call “The Hub” , that I aforementioned a few paragraphs back, which was just recently built as a place for the homeless people to hang out from 7am to 3am every day of the week, you can get snacks with a coffee three times per day. The Hub is the basement section of the Outflow resource Centre (Previously the Fitzpatrick funeral home and morgue) which is connected to the Church just up the street from the Hub, where Rob England Holds his own independent Celebrate Recovery Program on Tuesday Afternoons from 1:30- roughly 3:30ish, and A midweek afternoon chapel service again from 1:30-3:30ish. (More on Celebrate Recovery to come)

Intersecting at the Bottom of Richmond Street, is Prince Edward street, To where you will find the Front Enternence of the Salvation Army Church with the local food bank around the corner from it. Going in the opposite direction you will find the Learning exchange (who has their own confidentiality protocol, and can greatly benefit from this protection as well) And down near the end of the street is Romaro House, which serves a sit down Community meal every week day, from 9:30am - 1pm (currently) and take out meals on the weekends with the same time.

Intersecting prince Edward around the corner of Romero House, is middle street, you will find rose house, which is a transition house run by Coverdale, as many recovering residents go from the shelter into transition before eventually finding hopefully permanent residence.

Seeing how a lot of helpful resources reside within these interconnected streets, it is crucially necessary to provide protection, confidentiality, with compassion care, and kindness. To protect not only the safety but the dignity, and the fundamental human rights of those whose meeting of unfortunate circumstances has left them feeling helpless and vulnerable. This of course should not stop at being a one off thing exclusive to Saint John New Brunswick, but rather a first implementation of protection to be applied to other streets similarly grouped together with a lot of resources for our most vulnerable people, in other areas of New Brunswick, Canada and eventually the world.

I love these people, and I urge and beg you to love them too. Some of these people could actually be people you love. Please show them, unconditional, unbiased and impartial love, care, kindness and compassion, and get behind me in restoring their privacy, which to them also means their fundamental right to safety and dignity.

[deepestearthquakefart]

How to Choose the Right Parking Lot at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport

Are you planning a trip and need a reliable parking option at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport? Choosing the right parking lot can make all the difference in starting your journey stress-free. But with so many options available, it can be overwhelming to navigate through the complexities of airport parking. Don't worry, though! In this article, we will guide you through the process of selecting the perfect parking lot that suits your needs.

Why is Choosing the Right Parking Lot Important?

Before we look at this delve into the details, let's understand why choosing the right parking lot is crucial. As an expert facilities management professional in the ever-evolving world of airport operations, parking I can assure you that not parking all parking lots are created equal. Each one offers different services and amenities tailored towards enhancing your travel experience.

When it comes to airport parking, it's not merely about finding a spot for your vehicle. It's about seeking more than just a parking space; it's about unlocking the secrets to convenience, security, and peace of mind during your trip.

Research on Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport Parking

To provide you with valuable insights, we conducted meticulous research on Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport parking. We analyzed customer reviews, compared prices and services, and sought out insider information from frequent travelers. Our findings have helped us compile this comprehensive guide to assist you in making an informed decision.

Frequently Asked Questions 1. What are the different types of parking lots available at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport? Economy Parking: This option offers affordable rates for longer stays but may require a short shuttle ride to reach the terminal. Daily Garage: Ideal for shorter trips or those who prefer covered parking. Hourly Garage: Convenient for short stays or picking up/dropping off passengers. Valet Parking: Perfect for those seeking utmost convenience and time-saving services. Cell Phone Lot: A free waiting area where you can park for up to one hour while waiting for arriving passengers. 2. How do I choose between the different parking options?

Consider the following factors:

Duration of your trip: Longer trips may benefit from economy parking, while shorter stays might warrant the convenience of valet or daily garage. Budget: Determine how much you are willing to spend on parking and choose accordingly. Proximity to the terminal: If you prefer to be closer to the terminal, daily or hourly garages may be more suitable. 3. Are there any additional services I should consider?

Yes, indeed! Some parking lots offer additional services such as car washes, electric vehicle charging stations, and luggage assistance. These extras can add value to your overall experience at the airport.

4. How can I ensure the safety of my vehicle in the chosen parking lot?

All parking lots at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport prioritize the security of vehicles. They are equipped with CCTV cameras, well-lit areas, and regular patrols. However, it is advisable to remove any valuable items from your car and lock it securely before leaving.

Conclusion

Choosing the right parking lot at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport can make a sign

[veriken]

veriken world !

hello traveler, and thank you for stopping by \^-^/

requests and pricing !

gif requests are currently open.

note that, unless negotiated otherwise, all fulfilled requests will be on my kofi shop for public purchase with the same prices outlined below.

0-49 : $4

50-99 : $9

100-199 : $14

200-299: $19

300-399 : $25

400-499 : $32

500+ : negotiable

these prices are calculated with my rate in mind, as I usually can make 20-40 gifs an hour when working quickly. since this is a hobby and repeat purchases-per-pack are possible as well, i am content with the low-hourly pay!

the veriken mission. . .

launched with the aim to gif all verivery release content, this little page was initially just a fun escape from my busy world of studies and work.

i soon began to gif content my friends liked, delivering large gifpacks and gifsets as pick-me-ups. from there, this little page became a glittering hodgepodge of k-pop and k-drama content!

the future of veriken. . .

initially a completely free blog, with all gifpacks and gifsets available to all, i never anticipated to begin charging for gifs.

however, as i enter my junior year of university, an athletic scholarship i've worked two years for has been cut by my institution.

now, i've decided to use my ability to gif as a supplementary income stream, to fund groceries and loan repayments throughout my remaining years. please note that i am also working two part-time jobs alongside my schooling and athletic endeavors. any donation and purchase helps!

all packs and sets made prior to this post will remain public and free.

take a breath. close your eyes. smile.