#Tavel guide

[makymakvrchat]

General Lee Car from Dukes of Hazzard on display at Marconi Auto Museum in Tustin California.

[ludinusdaleth]

i am 100% saying this with a bias as a ludinus fan and do not consider this some canon intention (mooostly) but just in the same way lucien was a ghost of a lost m9 member, destined to be in their party but in an echo of another life, i consider ludinus, in a way, the same - if more wraith than ghost. if lucien looks at the mighty nein and swears he cant recognize them as molly screams in his head they're family, ludinus looks at the bells hells and recognizes them instantly as himself, utterly alone but not alone, as some tiny part of him in essek's voice says "you should try friends sometime", and another screams that it's far too late.

[goaways-stuff]

praising and thigh riding with angela lopez??

Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry.

Angela Lopez x gn!reader

A/N: No mention of amy gendered genitals. 18+. Minors dni. Another not proofread drabble. Also, this is really only like my second time ever writing for a fem character, so bare with me if it's shit lol. enjoy :)

You'd maybe been a little bratty that day. She was working from home, and you were desperate for her attention. How could you not be? You'd managed to pull the most beautiful woman in the world. All day, all you could think about was her. You were alone, in your house, together. But she had still managed to have work to do. You went into her office every chance you got. Obviously you brought her all three meals for the day, but in between those, you kept her water glass and coffee mug refilled. You brought her a snack. You just had to show her a funmy puppy video. Anything to just have a few minutes. And, of course, you prolonged each interaction, kissing on her neck from behind, squeezing her shoulders that stayed so constantly tense. "Almost done yet?" You asked after your millionth time in the office today. "No. I've had a very distracting partner all day." She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Mm, can't help it when I have the most gorgeous woman in the world in my home." You mumbled as you buried your face in her neck, kissing down on that sensitive spot because, believe it or not, the great Angela López does have a weak spot. Your hands knead her shoulders once more before taveling down her arms, sneaking their way over her breasts, giving them a squeeze. She slaps your wrists, causing you to pull away completely.

"Who said you could touch?" She asked, crossing her arms as she gave you the look once more. That look made you absolutely melt. You'd do anything for you if she gave you that look and that tone.

"Sorry- I just. I need you." You practically begged, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. She just smirked at your reddened cheeks before saving and closing out the tab she had been working on.

"Well, maybe I would've been done earlier if someone hadn't come in every 5 minutes." She said, spinning the chair around to fully face you. She patted her lap, signaling for you to sit. You immediately obeyed, wasting no time as you took your spot.

"You really need me that bad, huh?" She asked, feeling the heat emitting from your core. You nodded eagerly, hips grinding down as you waited for any kind of friction to come your way.

"Well, go for it, honey. Get yourself off." She challenged, leaning back in the seat. You looked at her confused before she nodded down to her thigh slotted between your legs.

"Go ahead. If you're so desperate, you won't have any trouble getting yourself off." She smirked, flexing her thigh muscle against you.

"Oh please-" You choked at the feeling as began slowly grinding your hips again her thigh.

"That's it, honey. Just like that." She encouraged, hands going to your hips to guide you. She picked up your pace, making sure to keep your hips angled. "C'mon, bebé. Keep going."

A rubber band formed in your stomach, slowly twisting as you desperately rubbed your crotch against her thigh. "Angela- please. More" You moaned out, wanting more.

"Nope. Not until you get yourself off." She stood her ground as you whined, your thighs trembling as the rubber band only twisted tighter.

You whimpered as you angled your hips a little more, trying to find that sweet spot as you moved faster against him. It wasn't long before that rubber band had become so wound up that it was ready to snap.

"Doing such a good job," She said, almost patronizing. "So sweet for me." She praised, peppering kisses pver your face.

"Close, huh? Gonna cum for me? Go on, sweet thing, cum for me." She coaxed, nibbling on your earlobe as your hips stuttered.

It was a full stop as you groaned out, hips bucking and core throbbing as you made a thorough mess of yourself. "Good job, did such a good job for me." She praised, gently petting your hair as you came down from your high.

[valdrift]

hi and welcome to my Visual Guide of (how i draw) the tavelle/tealeaf guys

[ladyduellist]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Tav and Astarion spend the night together.

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Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

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Chapter 9: Known*

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 4.8k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Trauma, CPTSD episode during sex, Act 1 Spoilers

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It is said that being bestowed with the mark of a soulmate is rare. Even rarer to find a soulmate that you fall in love with. See, soulmate marks are tricky in that way. It is not a guarantee of life together. Sometimes, a soulmate can be a friend, a relative, an enemy. I have sung romantic ballads throughout my life about them, wondering what it would be like to have a soulmate of my own.

— Tavelle Swiftchoir, diary entry 217

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Love.

The meaning of love to Astarion was defined by cold nightmares of his flesh being carved into with a whetted blade. It meant endless mirrors—he could no longer see his reflection in—hung on the bedroom walls of countless obscured lovers he guided to the next celestial plane by a thrust of his hips.

Confined to the shadows like an unsent apparition, love was the compulsion by his master to peel back his fingernails and drive nails of iron into his wrists.

Lead up to the altar by the promise of immortality. His bride: eternal hunger. His husband: cruelty. Married forever to Cazador’s crimson that gave him undeath.

Love would condemn him to weakness; a folly of humanity.

But, he could pretend to love. He had lost count of how many conquests he feigned the emotion to as he seduced them. Astarion learned early on how to create the illusion of love during his countless years of predatory stalks. Batting lashes. Secret confessions of forbidden wants. The longing of their humming hearts as he showered them with adorations.

And each of these imbeciles believed him, even those he felt a rare ounce of sympathy towards.

Then, there was the bard. Somehow, in spite of their differences, he had managed to capture the songbird. He knew that she yearned for the connection through companionship, like he thirsted for lifeblood. She wanted to be known. Effortlessly and with devotion to the marrow of her bones. And she wanted to share it with someone in return. Astarion decided in face of those challenges, he would burden himself with the role to shepard in the requirements for his conservation.

If he could make former notches on his bedpost believe he loved them, then he could simulate prolonged connection.

At least, that's what he thought.

It’s why he agreed to engage in her pointless game at the party, to get her to trust him further. Each sentence, every word, he fed her was so carefully planned leading to this exact moment of their night. His answers were enough to satisfy her queries about him—truths that belied his aversion towards her.

He hated it. Hated the instincts he knew would draw her to him. Because the vampire knew that one of the most sensible ways to establish a form of “connection” was through sex.

The death dance of frivolous and faux intimacy. Years of bedding anything with a pulse had conditioned his cock to rise without him feeling anything inside. Except, this time was not to give a victim to Cazador, it was to procure a target for himself.

He laughed to himself while he removed his shirt. He chose her. For him. The unpretentious songstress with a mystifying heart. His protector. The soulmate he couldn’t accept. How utterly insane.

Astarion patiently waited for Tav in a forest glade just a stone’s throw away from their camp. With a quick peck on the tip of his nose, she promised herself to him for the rest of the evening.

Still, his words of subterfuge would not be enough to guarantee the immunity of her balm. The details in between had to be the mirage for his stratagem.

To keep her interested. To keep her affections.

Fragrant oils were reapplied in places he knew she would want to touch, to completely envelop herself in. He cleaned his teeth, polishing them off with a piece of cloth. Mint leaves were chewed for the benefit of quelling the taste of blood when she would inevitably kiss him. Even the illumination of the moonlight splashing on the trees, forming enchanting shadows on the ground, was a planned location by him.

Astarion heard her drawing closer with the strange chorale hymn encaged behind her breast. Anxiously, he quickly recited phrases of poetic novelties in his head, ones to enkindle her need for him throughout their upcoming coupling.

Gods, had he ever gone through so much trouble to secure a quarry before?!

Tav approached, like gentle rain in the sunlight: fluent and quiet. Her hair had been decorated and restyled into a waterfall plait with the same flowers she kept in her garter.

The pallid spawn appeared from behind one of the large trees, confidence in his gait. Silvery curls bathed by the lune’s brilliance, his skin glowing in near perfection with faint beads of dew upon his neck, painted a picture of his otherworldly aristocracy.

“I’ve been waiting,” he purred, stepping closer to her.

She smiled meekly, staring at the nakedness of his chest. “You started without me?”

Inwardly, he briefly panicked. Shit. The shirt off was a poor decision.

“I suppose I’ve been eager to have you,” he grinned in recovery. He held out his hand for her to take. “And you will let me have you, won’t you?”

Warmth was deposited into the crisp chill of his hand as she demurely placed it within his own. He brought it to his chest, isolating her fingertips to drag them across the field of his muscular pectoral muscles, down to trace along his Adonis belt.

A wave of gooseflesh rose on her forearms. “You’re the only one right now I want to have me, Astarion,” she softly vowed.

He tilted his head at her admission. The temptation to completely possess her had risen, to walk alongside the wickedness of his inner carnality for power. She would so sweetly acquiesce to him pushing her to the ground before his shrine of hunger, binding her wrists with his hands, and sliding into her creamy, waiting slit while he told her to worship him with titles of grandeur.

Oh, merciful Astarion, Creator of besmeared covenants, The convalescent songstress seeking his touch to cure her fervent body. With his holy emblem in ichor painted on her breasts, Power of powers, May your wants be granted upon you.

Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, urging her near. He pressed his forehead against her own, noticing her shakes of anticipation as he rubbed her lower back through her chemise. A heart stopping, then speeding back up.

“You always shudder like the babe of a rabbit whenever I touch you. Do I frighten you?” he asked in a low gravel.

She looked away timidly, a shadow of diffidence cast over her face. “Your succor makes me feel like I’m being pulled into directions I didn’t know existed. The only thing that frightens me, is how much I crave you.”

His stomach churned. How many times had he managed to tear such streams of flattery from his former lovers?

The vampire cupped the apple of her cheek, turning her head to face him. “Tavelle, look at me.”

Tav lifted her eyes under the veil of her desire for him. Something inside of her had splintered. By the gentle exhale of her breathing—that rhythmic thrum inside her chest that was once again out to sea—a divergent path had slipped underneath her confluence. She wasn’t afraid of him; she was afraid of letting go.

“Do not shy away from that which you crave. To be tasted. Felt held by another. Known. You want those things, don’t you?” He stroked a brisk finger along her jaw, settling his thumb against the plush of her lower lip.

Cheeks rosy and warm, Tav grabbed onto his wrist, placing his palm against her lips to anchor a reverent peck. “I do. But, what about you? What do you want?”

Why did she keep asking him such stifling questions? A whispering diviner at his ear trying to open up a portal to the abode of his shades. He couldn’t bloody stand her.

But, what did he want?

It was possible to want now, wasn’t it?

It was even possible to receive those wants.

A twisted smear alighted his dead arteries.

Power. Freedom. Her shield. Her blood. Cazador’s true death.

Whatever the hells he could take!

And other wants.

Not to be touched or put on display like a whore. To continue walking in the sun. Seen.

“Our collective pleasure. Ecstasy that lasts well into the night.”

The sudden dour expression on her face almost made him question his practiced response. She squeezed his hand as if she were trying to reassure him that he could trust her. “Is that all?”

No.

She studied him in silence, in considerate observance, as she nipped at her lip. Her damned searching again.

He needed to guide them along before their conversation became some emotional slop and ruined his plans.

Astarion reached out for her hips, effectively turning her around. He backed her into the nearby tree, relishing in the heat of her hold on his arms.

He leaned into her ear, unintentionally blowing a cool breath, as he pawed at her skirts. “Lift these. Let me show you what I want.”

The songstress bunched her skirts without breaking eye contact, holding them tightly around her hips. He could hear her short breaths of air waiting for him in a fervid state of starvation.

Limber fingers slid up her outer thighs, tickling her with featherlight scampers of his pads. She keened until his touch turned into an avid need, gliding along her inner thighs. Reservedly, he felt her legs part for him.

What he found, caused him to smirk mischievously. She really did continue to surprise him.

“And I see you also started without me,” he chuckled above her.

As his digits skimmed the crease where her thigh met her mons pubis, he discovered she had chosen to forego her smalls, leaving her completely bare.

Had Astarion been a normal mortal man about to fuck a woman into mind-bending bliss, her impulsivity may have turned him on. But instead, what his vampiric nature granted him was an unholy possessiveness over her cunt. Here his bonny songbird stood, offering the secrets of her milky secretions for his dark schemes. The scent of her nectar, a sweetened musk almost as intoxicating as her blood. All for him to indulge in, should he so choose.

His?

That was unplanned.

“I guess, I too, was feeling eager,” she sighed bashfully.

Peppering kisses along the length of her neck, he slid an index finger between her folds. Oh, she hadn’t been this wet the first time he had his fingers inside of her. Judging by the blinks she fluttered at him, she was also aware of his findings.

Gently, he rubbed her sensitive bundle of nerves, cradling a pleasant cry from her lips with encouraging mumbles on her cheek. He circled her clit clockwise, swiping across it with more pressure every time she whined. Astarion moved his thigh in the middle of her legs: a wedge to keep them open at his discretion.

Then, he suddenly relented, lecherously probing through her heated lips with a single finger, inserting it deeply into her. Tav’s mouth opened in a quiet scream of delirium. He lunged it in and out of her at a snail’s pace, watching her squirm, desperately trying to keep her skirts raised. Chilly lips found their way to her earlobe and he instantly assaulted it with his tongue, moaning with it in his mouth with every thrust of his finger.

“I could finish you off like this,” he rasped into her ear, licking from her lobe to the point of it.

Her ears were ablaze from the rapture he rewarded her. A winded noise clawed from her throat. “Please—”

Astarion ceased the movement of his dexterous finger, leaving it within her ardent balm for her to clench around. “Please what, lover?”

Silence. A few seconds more and still—nothing.

Astarion, abandoning his onslaught of her lobe—uneasily wondering if he performed wrong—moved to face her directly. Chest frantically heaving, Tav skewed her head in his direction. He noticed she was fighting the torrents of ravenous hunger that were trying to claim her, pushing back her permission to let everything go.

His garnet eyes narrowed as he reallocated her chin to ghost his brisk lips over her panting mouth. “Let go.”

Tav dropped her skirts, hastily sweeping her hands into his snowy curls to maneuver his head at the angle she preferred, and collided her lips roughly against him. Where her kisses had been slow and intentional in the past, now, they were shameless gluttonous extensions of her neediness. She sucked on his upper lip, seductively licking it with her tongue. Astarion kissed her with an equal measure of intensity, kneading her lips, goading them to continue.

Her eyes were clenched shut, mewling unintelligible tales of her urges with her pecks. “I…gods…’Starion.”

Bombarding him with her lips, she continued to mold them over the pallid edges of his own. With stimulating swipes of her tongue along the underside of his jawline, back to his mouth, she consumed him like a tornado. He grabbed the back of her head, rigorously propelling her to seam her body to his torso in a firm hold.

“I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t,” her teeth nibbled sinfully on his lower lip while she mumbled her words hoarsely. “But, I…more…than…I…”

Musical hands lightly massaged themselves over his chest, splaying over his frosted skin. Tav’s face mantled into a flustered expression, a confession she seemed to try and cover by way of kissing him again, boldly endeavoring to slide her tongue past his lips.

There was a sharp intake of his breath through his nostrils, and suddenly, he leaned away from her, breaking their fevered motions. Usually, during his multiple dalliances, tongue kissing was not given a second thought. It came as a natural detail of his one night stands in debauchery. But given their accidental journey together, Astarion knew it held a deeper, intimate meaning that denoted a relationship he wouldn’t or was incapable of having with Tav.

This was about transactions, not falling in love.

He needed to deflect.

“Mmm, darling. You are delicious, but kiss me as you have been with only those succulent lips of yours. It’s what makes me want to completely ravage you.”

She patiently nodded.

Perfect.

He felt it. The tug. That corrupt allure within his stomach. To overtake her. A bedevilment of his own temperament. To drain her entirely of that crimson that kept her alive. His vampiric wrath, driven by his hunger for blood. And by the way she peered up at him through those nymph like lashes as if he were a god—

It was enough to make him erect for the night. To distance himself from their sordid interlude just enough to get it over with.

Palming at her skirt, he slid it down her legs, leaving her naked save for her blouse. He rose back up, leaving random pecks on her thighs, stomach, and arms before stopping at her neckline. Lazily, he tapped his lips along her décolletage, savoring her temperature.

Tav busied herself touching his lower abs, tracing the lines of his muscles as if to memorize him. He grinned into her skin when he felt her unlacing his trousers.

“Is this okay?” she asked cautiously.

Why did she…?

He plunged his hand betwixt them, piloting her to cup his hard bulge. “I can’t wait to be buried inside of you.”

Her heart chambers palpitated, a befitting hymn to his ears. She rubbed his length through his pants, feeling the outline of his cock with slender fingers. Pivoting her hand, the bard crossed over his lacings, finally pulling his shaft from its restricted position.

Introverted as she was, this was a woman that liked to equally grant bliss in the bedroom. It mimicked how she lived her daily life when she wasn’t exercising heaven in her sheets with a lover. Her authenticity was tried and true—an insight that pleased Astarion.

The squeeze she gave the head of his cock was a prelude to the pumps she moved up and down over it. Precum beading, she spread it in smooth twists with her hand. He groaned a punishing sound into the velvet of her throat.

“Hold onto me.”

He collected her hands from her pandering strokes, kissing her knuckles, then led them to thread around his neck. With his strength gripping beneath her ass, he lifted her, coaxing her legs to wrap around his lean waist.

His cock laid heavy amidst her drenched labia, nuzzling against her throbbing clit. She moaned loudly for him, like an immoral nun spread eagle on a pristine bed of white, seeking sanctuary through orgasm. He jetted his stiff sex, teetering her nub on his tip while he balanced her against the tree. Tav’s mouth chased after him, successfully landing hotly on his lips, subduing her voracious sobs.

The head of his cock caught on her pink pearl several times as he deliberately stuffed himself between her slippery lips. He teased her entrance, inserting a centimeter of his erection before abruptly pushing up through the scope of her vulva. At this angle, it would have been so easy to slide right into her and take her as hard as he could imagine.

During a particularly motivated drive through her folds, one of the florets unattached itself from her plait and hung midair near the side of face. She started giggling.

Cute.

Allowing her to continue her kisses on his cheek, Astarion slowed his hips, momentarily shifting his weight to yank the bloom from her hair. “The banality of flowers. Always making the grueling effort to wither away.”

Tav aptly touched a petal, seemingly admiring its shape. “That’s why they are to be cherished; a fleeting moment of their beauty that slows down time.”

Her poison was too potent.

The edges of his vision softened considerably. Awe dimly drew up the muscles around his mouth.

And then, a slip up.

“In another life I—” he forcibly blocked himself, becoming aware of his near fumble.

What the bloody fuck was I about to tell her?! In another life, I would have what?! In another life, you wouldn’t have been a victim. In another life, I wouldn’t have manipulated you for my benefit. In another life, I may have asked to properly court you.

His throat scalded with bile.

Rushing forward, he crushed his mouth against hers, wiping the confusion from her expression. The songstress stuttered out a few heady breaths as she mounted her hands back around his neck. He tightened his grip under her thighs, turning her around to lay her down in a plot of leaves and dirt.

But now the time was ripe for dread. The undertaking that condemned him to a disassociating hell where his undead heart turned a blackened void, striving to escape the horrendous weight of yet another tallied mark of copulation in his memory.

On the ground she laid, ethereal in the beams of moonlight. Dark ash brown hair outspread like a duvet. Picked flowers falling out of place to gracefully nest in her strands.

Astarion shimmied out of his unlaced trousers, his pale erect cock bobbing before his newest target. He kneeled, surrounded by her robust legs. Tav sheepishly smiled up at him, her balletic hands making contact with the hem of her blouse, pulling it over her head, revealing large breasts.

The vampire loomed over her, lowering his weight onto her body. He steadied himself on one arm, brushing his fingers up her ribs. A long puff of air floated out of her lungs when he groped her tit in his hand. And, gods, he could smell her emulsion arousal almost leaking outside of her slit.

He prowled his tongue down her clavicle to the heap of her bosom until he felt her writhing. Tav’s ample areolas were the lightest shade of pastel pink that disappeared into her ivory tone. The buds of her breasts, a luscious dusky rosette, primed for Astarion to suck. She clamored when he pinched her nipple.

The tip of his tongue bumped her nipple and her hands flew to his head, assertively pressing him into her bosom. Her nails scraped his scalp tenderly, earning her a deep growl. A flat moistened tongue swathed around her sensitive pert berry with a keened breezy sigh before he nipped at it between his front teeth.

Ah, she was so responsive to him. Wreathing her legs around his hips. Grinding her pelvis into him. Seeking the friction only he could grant her.

“Astarion…” she murmured gingerly, still massaging his scalp.

He continued sucking on her nipple, swiftly licking it when her breathing calmed. She screamed his name when he bit into her bud a final time before viewing her under dark lashes.

“Gods, Astarion! I want you inside of me!”

The spawn nodded, crawling back up her body to linger above her. He kissed her lips serenely: once, twice, a third time. Then, he pecked the inside of her wrist, motioning for her to rest her flourishing hands on his shoulders.

Firmly clutching his cock, he lined it up with her entrance. He stared into the pane of her eyes, wondering briefly how he would look as he entered her. Was his fervor passable enough?

“Ready, songbird?”

Tav shook her head.

As the crown of his cock breached her opening, the caged canary unobtrusively whistling between her two lungs, closed off its song. She held him close to her the further he pushed in, stretching her to a perfect form around his thickness, gasping into his throat.

Oh, she was tight.

So. Very.

“Tight,” he hissed.

He bucked into her languidly, her juices smothering him. Hells, when was the last time his cock had been thoroughly clenched in this way? Her cunt was hot and dripping and snug and—

Scars. She encountered his scars. An impalpable tremor in remembrance bloomed across his back. Raised and undead—along with the rest of him—an intricate framework branding him as Cazador’s slave. The pads of her fingers touched them with frugal dabs, as if he were a piece of blown glass that would break. He stilled.

Astarion wrestled with the notion of how to respond. Ruining the moment with laments of his past tortures, would not be fortuitous for him. He could ignore it entirely, subvert her attention with a pinch of her clit. Though, that ran the risk of eventually confronting the ‘elephant in the room’—so to speak.

But, the bard with her gods damned noble tenderness, cupped both of his cheeks with a kiss above his brow.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered thoughtfully.

He blinked several times, his thoughts in a race to catch up with the feeling of her gentleness in his arms. Astarion couldn’t take it. It unsettled him in ways he didn’t understand.

And then, he was fucking her at a punishing speed, a wicked entity moving his shaft all the way out before ramming it back into her. His mouth found hers, stifling her cries.

All the pale elf could think about was the promise of her guardianship. No matter how much he despised her, sex with her was the stipulation of their unspoken contract. It would be over soon until they needed to make another trade.

Blood and aegis for companionship.

Forgive him gods, for Astarion has sinned. As he fornicates and bites, covered in blood. The tabernacle, his for the taking. He knows in the cavernous pit of his being, He’ll do it all again.

And the detachment came. The scarlet gaze a million miles away. He neither felt nor heard anything. Not Tav’s shouts of pleasure. Not even the tepidity of her charitable caress she was once hesitant to forfeit. He was nothing more than an artificer for seduction.

Automatically, his haunches maneuvered themselves in a lunging manner. He was not present. He didn’t need to be. If he could only remain floating a distance away from his body, then—

“—me.”

Fuzzy interference. A voice maybe?

“rion… ite…me.”

Tav. That instrument in her voice box. Always a song upon the winds. Always reining him in.

“Astarion, bite me,” Tav pleaded.

All his senses returned at once. The outlines of her facial features were no longer a blur. Her sounds: a resplendent wonder from the vaults of Mount Celestia.

The heap of her long waves were swooshed away from the front of her shoulder and neck. Her head drifted to the side with a blush rising up to clothe her satiny skin.

He relaxed his thrusts, baffled at her invitation during the height of their passion.

“I trust you,” she assured him, fingers sailing into his silvery curls.

His mouth twitched.

A kiss attentively fixed on her temple. His short-tempered thirst roared from within. Fangs cruising to the vein he heard pounding in his ear, prepping her with savory pecks and sucklings.

The bite pierced through her taut flesh. She wailed, scrabbling at his body, trying to merge herself with him. He moved his hand to finger her aching clit, brushing against it with chilled touches.

Her addictive crimson poured into his mouth in glorious splurts of an exquisite delicacy, filling him rapidly with her heat. He huskily growled into her neck as his hips started to resume their vigor. Astarion lapped at her blood as he felt his vitality sprinting through him.

A lithe finger moved Tav’s swollen nub in circles, at times, spreading her clear fluids to easily stimulate her arousal. He could feel his fingers receiving the warmth from her blood in nascent layers throughout his appendages. She whimpered so well for him as he kept a steady rhythm with his hardness tunneling into her cunt.

The contractions of her walls was an indicator of her oncoming climax. Further, he slid in and out of her, submerged in her gushing moisture. Pushing his knee to sit higher under her leg so he could angle his cock deeper, a grunt filled his chest as her slit squeezed him tightly.

“Ooo…fuck…you feel…I’m going to cum soon,” she announced breathlessly.

Then, her crescendo began and she arched her back, their bodies slick with sweat. She sang in depraved sobs, whilst she ensnared Astarion’s engorged manhood, spasming around it with a flood of her cum. He lifted from his feeding, licking the trickles of blood down his chin, praising her with red smeared downy kisses on her face.

Yet, as the fates often have other plans for people, he peered to his right—with an unusual phantom yank on his bleating soul—to find an identical soul mate mark, matching his own, in the juncture between Tav’s shoulder and her outer collarbone.

“Fuck,” he croaked under his breath, slowing his thrusts.

Her heart was a pandemonium screaming out for him. And with every elated thrash of her pulse, he felt the marking behind his ear stirring in dreamy tingles.

He felt nauseous.

Until, it finally subsided.

Astarion slipped out of her as she was coming down from her orgasm, kneeling back on his knees. Tav rolled over onto her side in the fetal position, billowing noises like a gentle lullaby.

“Would you like to lay next to me?”

He didn’t want to be touched. Not right now.

“As appetizing as you were, I need a few moments to arrange myself.”

“We can just lay here. Nothing more—if that’s what’s best for you,” she yawned.

What? Why?

Astarion didn’t respond, instead focusing on putting on his trousers. Tucking himself behind his lacings, he lowered himself to the forest floor, laying inches from the exhausted bard. He turned on his side, noticing she had already fallen into a deep trance.

He tested her slumber by stroking her arm with the back of his index finger. Tranquil mutterings passed through her sleeping lips. She had never looked so peaceful before. Her skin was suddenly softer to him, cooler to the touch from his earlier bite that devoid her of blood.

With discreet strokes, his fingertip outstretched to connect the beauty spots of her soul mark. They were coffee shaded dots, compromising the shape of a falling star—or so it appeared to him.

There were very few things Astarion could recall from his mortal life, but seeing this—knowing the same marking was imprinted on his flesh—for the first time in two centuries, filled him with rage.

It was a painful reminder of everything he had lost, including the ability to experience real connection with another. His history that should have remained underneath six feet of dirt in the graveyard that housed his tombstone.

A piece of his humanity: once lost in time, now a living memory.

[uspassporthelp]

Do You Need US Passport to Visit Mexico ?

Do you need a US passport to visit Mexico? If you are a US citizen planning a trip to Mexico, your passport is your essential travel document. Traveling to Mexico from the United States is a popular choice due to its beautiful beaches, vibrant culture, and rich history. However, it’s essential to know the travel requirements before you go. This blog provides a comprehensive guide, important requirements, and useful travel tips.

Steps You Need to Follow with Your US Passport

To visit Mexico as a US citizen, you must take the following essential steps.

Understanding US Passport Requirements

First and foremost, if you are a US citizen, you will need a valid US passport to enter Mexico by air. According to the US State Department, all US citizens, including minors, must have a valid passport when entering Mexico by air. This requirement ensures that travelers have the necessary documentation for entry and re-entry into the United States.

The list of requirements varies slightly depending on whether one is traveling by land or sea. US citizens can also utilize a passport card, a less expensive option, even though a passport book is advised. For detailed information on Passport Card and Passport Book, visit US Passport |How to Apply for First US Passport. Additionally, you can utilize other authorized travel credentials like a SENTRI card, NEXUS card, or Enhanced Driver’s License (EDL). For those who travel frequently, these solutions are especially practical.

Additional Travel Documentation and Visa Requirements for US Passport Holders

In addition to your passport, you need to fill out a Forma Migratoria Multiple (FMM), which is an entry permit required for all visitors.

Tourist Card (FMM)

In addition to your passport, you need to fill out a Forma Migratoria Multiple (FMM), which is an entry permit required for all visitors. This form can be obtained online or at the port of entry. It’s important to keep this document safe during your trip. This is because you need to present it upon departure from Mexico.

Furthermore, if you plan to stay in Mexico for more than 180 days, you need to apply for a temporary resident visa. This visa is particularly useful for individuals who wish to work, study, or retire in Mexico. For shorter stays, US citizens do not require a visa for tourism or business purposes, provided their visit does not exceed 180 days.

Travel Tips for a Smooth Journey

Prepare Your US Passport and Documents Early for Your Trip to Mexico

Make sure your passport is valid six months after your planned stay. It is recommended to verify the expiration date well in advance and to renew it if required. Having a valid passport can protect you from last-minute travel issues. If you need to renew your US Passport, visit Passport Renewal: Everything You Need to Know

Utilize Trusted Traveler Programs

If you are an experienced traveler, consider applying for SENTRI or Global Entry.  These initiatives, offer quicker processing at land borders and airports. To learn more about these initiatives, visit the US Customs and Border Protection website.

Stay Informed on Travel Advisories

Check the most recent travel advisories and safety updates for Mexico before departing. For your protection during your visit, the US Embassy in Mexico offers documents including the most recent travel alerts.

Keep Copies of Important Documents

Make photocopies of your passport, entry permit, visa (if applicable), and any other essential documents. Keep these copies in a separate location from the originals. In case of loss or theft, having copies will facilitate the replacement process.

Can a US Citizen Fly to Mexico Without a Passport?

If you are a US citizen and planning to travel to Mexico, having a passport is essential. No other kind of identification will be accepted, to tavel to Mexico, including a birth certificate or state driver’s license. You can cross the US-Mexico border by land or sea with an Enhanced Driver’s License (EDL), SENTRI, NEXUS, or a passport card.Mode of TravelRequired DocumentsAir TravelUS Passport Book onlyLand TravelUS Passport Book, Passport Card, SENTRI, NEXUS, Enhanced Driver’s License (EDL)Sea Travel (Closed-loop)US Passport Book, Passport Card, Enhanced Driver’s License (EDL)Stay over 180 daysTemporary Resident VisaAcceptable travel documents for different modes of travel

Is a US Passport Essential to Fly to Mexico?

Yes, a US passport book is necessary if you are traveling by plane to Mexico. For US citizens traveling by air, this is the only document that is permitted, and it applies to all, even for children.

Conclusion

If you are a US citizen planning a trip to Mexico, your passport is your essential travel document. By having a valid passport you can enjoy different landscapes, colorful culture, and delicious food of Mexico. By following these mentnioned steps and by preparing all your documents, you can enjoy your journey. If you need passport or visa assistance consider using services like ours USPassportHelp.

[ironwitchpainter]

Star Trek: Planetary Perception and Pursuit, Episode 13: Corruption in the Heart of Valoria

The quiet intimacy of the captain's quarters is suddenly pierced by the sharp beep of the communicator. Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel all turn to look at the device, the momentary silence a stark contrast to the warm embrace of their conversation. The image of an admiral appears on the viewscreen, their expression stern but with a hint of urgency.

"Captain Kirk," the admiral says, their voice cutting through the love-infused atmosphere. "We have a mission for you and your crew. A distress signal has been received from a remote planet, and it's imperative that the Enterprise respond immediately."

Kirk, ever the dutiful Starfleet officer, straightens his posture. "On our way," he says, his voice firm.

The admiral nods, their gaze lingering on the trio for a moment before the screen goes dark.

The three of them share a look, the gravity of the situation setting in. Their love, while a powerful force, does not exempt them from the responsibilities that come with being a Starfleet captain and his senior officers.

"We'd better get to the bridge," Kirk says, his grip on Marcus and Tavel's hands tightening briefly before releasing them. "We've got a mission to attend to."

The ship's systems pulse gently, a silent nod of understanding. The love that has united them all is now the very force that will drive them to face whatever challenges await.

They leave the quarters, the glow of the artifact's light trailing after them. As they make their way to the bridge, the Enterprise seems to come alive around them, its systems responding to their renewed sense of purpose.

The love that has transformed the ship into a living entity is now a beacon, guiding them through the vastness of space. Their hearts, bound together by friendship and camaraderie, beat in time with the ship's engines as they set a course for the unknown.

Their mission is clear: to boldly go where no one has gone before, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and to do so as one united crew, bound by the unbreakable threads of love and friendship.

As Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel rush to the bridge, the artifact's influence remains strong. Spock and McCoy, caught up in the ship's emotionally-charged atmosphere, haven't noticed the subtle change in their attire. Spock is wearing McCoy's shirt, and McCoy has inadvertently donned Spock's. The garments, now exchanged, seem to represent the deep bond that has formed between them, a bond that has transcended rank and species.

The trio arrives at the bridge, their hearts beating in unison with the ship's newfound sentience. The planet that sent the distress call looms large in the viewscreen, its blue-green surface marred by strange, pulsing lights that hint at the turmoil beneath. Kirk takes his seat, his eyes never leaving the mysterious world before them.

Tavel's gaze is fixed on the planet, his mind racing with strategies for their approach. "We need to be cautious," he says, his voice filled with the wisdom of his Romulan heritage. "The readings are unlike anything we've encountered."

Marcus nods, her hand resting on the console as she feeds additional data into the ship's computer. "Life signs are erratic, and there's a high concentration of an unknown energy source."

*Kirk's eyes narrow as he assesses the information. "Take us in, Mr. Sulu," he orders. "Best possible speed."

The Enterprise leaps into action, the ship's systems responding to their captain's command with a grace that seems almost alive.

The planet grows closer, the pulsing lights becoming more pronounced, the energy readings spiking.

On the viewscreen, a message appears, a desperate plea from the inhabitants. "We are the people of Valoria," it reads. "Our world is dying. Help us, or we shall be lost to the stars."

The bridge falls silent, the weight of their mission pressing down on them. They are not just three lovers caught in the thrall of passion, but three leaders, each with a duty to their crew and the vast expanse of space that is their domain.

The love that has united them is now a beacon of hope for an entire civilization. As they approach Valoria, they do so not just as Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel, but as the heart and soul of the USS Enterprise, ready to face whatever lies ahead.

As the Enterprise draws closer to Valoria, the energy storm becomes more apparent. It's a maelstrom of electrical discharges and swirling auroras that envelop the planet in a dazzling display of power. The storm seems to have a sentient quality to it, the lightning strikes almost deliberate, as if the planet itself is reaching out for help. The ship's sensors indicate that the storm is not natural, but rather the result of an ancient technology that has gone haywire, threatening to destroy the very life it was meant to protect. The intensity of the storm suggests that the planet's core is unstable, and the energy emanating from it could pose a significant threat to the ship. The crew must navigate this tempest with care, their love and unity now more vital than ever as they face the daunting task of saving an alien world.

Captain, the phenomenon we are approaching is not a natural occurrence. The energy signatures are consistent with those of a magnetic storm, but on a scale and complexity that surpasses any recorded in the Starfleet archives. it is clear that the situation on Valoria is dire. The storm's core appears to be interacting with the planet's magnetic field, causing severe destabilization of its tectonic plates. If we do not intervene, the planet may be lost to us forever.

Captain, I regret to inform you that our standard protocols for planetary evacuation are rendered ineffective by the extreme conditions of this magnetic storm. The interference generated by the storm's electrical discharges will prevent the operation of both our transporters and communicators. Attempting to navigate a shuttlecraft through such a volatile environment would be highly illogical and likely result in catastrophic failure. The risk to the shuttle and its occupants would be unacceptably high.

Spock, we can't just stand by and watch a civilization be wiped out. We need to find a way to save them. How do we get down there then? Or get them out? Our mission is to explore and assist, not to stand by as silent witnesses to their destruction. I want you to work with Uhura and Scotty to find an alternative method of reaching Valoria's surface. Maybe we can use the ship's shields to create a temporary safe zone for a shuttle, or perhaps there's some way we can manipulate the storm itself to our advantage. I need your best scientific minds on this, and I need it fast. Time is not our ally here.

Aye, Captain. I'll get right on it. Maybe there's some way we can modify the deflector dish to disperse the magnetic energy, or perhaps we can create some kind of sub-space tunnel through the storm. I'll need to consult with the Chief Science Officer and Lieutenant Sulu for the most efficient trajectory.

Captain, I've been thinkin' on it, and I've got a wee idea that might just work. We could engineer a sub-space tunnel, a sort of wormhole if you will, that's stable enough for one of us to travel through in a space suit. Now, I can't guarantee where it'll spit you out. Could be the planet's surface, could be in the heart of the storm, or even a hundred kilometers up. It's a bit of a gamble, but it's the only way we've got a shot at this without the transporters. It's risky, but if we can calibrate the shields just right, we might be able to hold it open long enough for someone to get through. We'd need to be precise with our calculations, and I'd recommend sending someone with a strong will and an even stronger stomach for the unpredictable.

The question of who will brave the tempest and venture down to Valoria weighs heavily on the bridge. The risk is immeasurable, and the fate of an entire civilization rests on the decision. Kirk, ever the bold leader, steps forward.

Kirk looks around the bridge, his gaze resting briefly on each of his officers. "We'll need our most skilled and adaptable team for this. Spock, your scientific expertise will be invaluable. Tavel, your tactical knowledge of Romulan technology could give us an edge in understanding what we're dealing with. And Dr. Marcus, your medical skills may be crucial in the event we encounter survivors."

He pauses, his expression serious. "The three of us will go down to the planet. The rest of you will remain here, ready to provide support and act on any intel we gather. We'll be the ones to bear the brunt of this mission, and it's one we must undertake with precision and speed."

The bridge crew exchange solemn nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. Love and friendship have brought them together, but now duty calls them to face the unknown.

The trio begins to prepare for the perilous journey, suiting up in the most advanced environmental gear Starfleet has to offer. The ship's sentience seems to pulse with anticipation, its very essence resonating with the love that fuels their determination.

The love between Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel is not just a private affair but a public declaration of unity and strength. It's a symbol of hope that the crew of the Enterprise can look to as they embark on this dangerous mission.

As they stand before the makeshift sub-space tunnel, the artifact's light seems to envelop them, whispering a silent prayer for their safe return.

The ship's systems, now an extension of their bond, hum in support, ready to respond to their every need. The storm outside the ship's windows is a stark reminder of the chaos they are about to enter, but within these walls, love and unity have created an unshakeable bastion of calm.

With a final nod to their crewmates, they step into the void, the door to the tunnel closing behind them with a hiss. The Enterprise, now a living testament to the power of love, watches over them as they plunge into the heart of the storm.

Spock, Tavel, and Dr. Marcus find themselves hurtling through the swirling maelstrom of the sub-space tunnel. The disorienting ride is a stark contrast to the calmness they felt on the ship. As they emerge on the other side, the world around them snaps into focus. They've arrived on the surface of Valoria, the storm's chaos a stark backdrop to the serene beauty of the planet's capital city. The once vibrant metropolis now lies in ruins, a silent testament to the cataclysm that has ravaged the planet. The air is thick with the scent of ozone, and the ground trembles beneath their feet. They look around, surveying the destruction, their hearts heavy with the weight of their mission.

Spock's eyes scan the horizon, his Vulcan composure unshaken. "The energy signatures are increasing in intensity," he reports. "We must find the source of the disturbance and neutralize it before the planet's core becomes critically unstable."

Tavel's gaze is sharp, his tactical instincts on high alert. "We'll split up. Spock and I will head towards the city's center, where the storm seems to be the most intense. Marcus, you take the medical kit and assess the condition of any survivors we might find."

Marcus shakes her head. "If we split up we can't stay in communication. We can't afford to lose each other down here."

With a shared look of determination, they set off into the storm-wracked city, each step taking them closer to the heart of the crisis.

Their mission is clear: to save Valoria and its people, to conquer the tempest that threatens to consume them all, and to do so as one.

As Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel venture into the storm-ravaged city of Valoria, their tricorders flicker erratically before going completely dark. The intense magnetic fields of the storm not only render their communication devices useless but also cause the instruments to act as lightning rods, attracting the very forces they seek to understand and combat. The realization that they are now cut off from the Enterprise adds another layer of urgency to their mission. They must rely on their instincts, training, and the unshakeable bond between them to navigate the treacherous environment and complete their task.

The trio presses on, the storm's fury a constant reminder of the urgency of their mission. They come across a group of Valorians huddled together in the ruins of a once-grand building. Their eyes are wide with fear, their clothes tattered and singed by the relentless onslaught of the magnetic tempest. Marcus rushes to their side, her medical instincts taking over as she assesses their injuries and begins to treat them. Despite the language barrier, her compassion is universal, and the Valorians respond with tentative trust.

One of the Valorians, a young woman with fiery red hair, points to a device in the center of the city, her voice strained with urgency. "The Heart of Valoria," she says, her eyes pleading. "It must be restored."

Tavel nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "We'll do everything we can," he promises, his voice steady despite the turmoil around them.

The Heart of Valoria, a towering structure that seems to pulse with the very life force of the planet, is the source of the storm. It's a beacon of hope in the chaos, a symbol of the civilization they've sworn to protect.

They continue their journey, their love for each other and their duty to the Federation propelling them through the storm, every step bringing them closer to the Heart and the fate of Valoria.

The trio arrives at the Heart of Valoria, a colossal edifice of ancient technology that pulsates with a fierce energy that matches the intensity of the storm. The structure looms over them, a monument to a lost era of peace and prosperity. The air crackles with electricity, and the ground trembles beneath their feet as the storm's fury reaches a crescendo. Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel stand at the entrance, their gazes locked on the beating core of the planet's crisis.

As the trio ventures into the Heart of Valoria, they encounter a figure emerging from the shadows. The figure, a Valorian scientist named Alara, is disheveled but determined. She approaches them, her eyes searching theirs for understanding. "What's going on?" she asks, her voice echoing through the chamber.

Tavel steps forward, his hand outstretched in peace. "We're from the USS Enterprise. We're here to help."

Alara's eyes widen with hope. "You must stop the Heart," she says urgently. "It's gone mad with power. It's consuming the planet!"

Marcus shares a concerned glance with Spock. "How can we do that?" she asks. "The storm's magnetic fields are too intense."

Spock's mind races with calculations. "The artifact on our ship," he suggests. "It has demonstrated the ability to manipulate emotions and bonds. Perhaps it can be used to harmonize the Heart's erratic energy."

Tavel nods, his hand on the phaser at his side. "We'll need to reach the control center," he says. "We must restore balance before it's too late."

Alara leads them through the labyrinthine corridors of the Heart, each step bringing them closer to the core of the problem. The storm outside mirrors the turmoil within the building, and the trio can feel the tension rising.

*In the control center, they find a console that seems to be the nexus of the Heart's power.

*The storm outside seems to notice their efforts, the winds howling in response to their unity.

This appears to be a sophisticated weather control system, likely created to maintain Valoria's climate in harmony with its inhabitants. However, it has been corrupted. The fluctuations in energy are resonating with the planet's magnetic field, causing the chaos we see around us. To stabilize the Heart, we must first neutralize the disruptions within the system. Then, we can attempt to recalibrate the device to restore balance to the planet's weather patterns.*

Working together, Spock, Marcus, and Tavel manually input the correct sequences into the console, each button press echoing through the chamber like a heartbeat. The Heart of Valoria responds to their efforts, the storm outside momentarily abating. But the reprieve is short-lived as a surge of magnetic energy slams into the building, sending them all reeling.

Tavel, utilizing his Reman telepathy, reaches out to the Heart's consciousness. He feels the anguish and confusion of the sentient being that once thrived here, now a captive of its own power. Through their shared love and connection, the trio attempts to communicate with the Heart, to soothe its turbulent spirit and guide it back to harmony.

Tavel closes his eyes, his mind extending beyond the confines of his body. "The Heart...it's alive," he murmurs. "And it's in pain."

Marcus and Spock exchange a worried glance. "Can you communicate with it?" Spock asks, his voice steady despite the tremors beneath their feet.

Tavel nods, his brow furrowed with concentration. "I'll try," he says, his voice filled with resolve.

The Reman Commander extends his empathy, weaving it through the chaotic maelstrom of the Heart's thoughts. He feels the turmoil, the hunger for balance, and the desperation to save the planet it has sworn to protect.

As Tavel's mind melds with the Heart, he shares his own experiences of bondage and freedom, of finding harmony amidst chaos. The Heart seems to understand, its pulsing rhythm beginning to slow.

Marcus and Spock support him, their own love and unity resonating through the connection. They feel the Heart's pain diminish as it begins to respond to their combined efforts.

The storm outside seems to pause, as if holding its breath, waiting for the outcome of this interspecies communion.

The Heart's energy coalesces into a single, pulsing point before them. It opens a channel of communication, speaking to them through a symphony of lights and vibrations that resonate within their very souls.

The Heart of Valoria speaks to them, its message clear despite the lack of words. It needs them to restore its balance, to reconnect it with the life force of the planet it has been separated from. It shows them images of the artifact on the Enterprise, its love and unity the key to calming the storm.

Tavel, with his heightened Reman telepathy, reaches out to the Heart of Valoria. He senses the life force of the planet, a consciousness that is desperate and in pain. It's as if the planet itself is crying out for help. The Heart is not just a piece of technology; it's a living, sentient being that has been corrupted by an unknown force. The trio understands that their mission is not just to fix a malfunctioning device but to heal a living entity that is integral to the planet's survival. They stand before it, a beacon of hope in the eye of the storm, their love and unity the key to saving Valoria. The Heart's pleas resonate through their minds, a silent but urgent call to action.

Tavel nods solemnly. "I can sense the planet's life force," he says, his eyes still closed as he focuses on the connection. "It's faint, but it's there. The Heart and the planet are one. If we can heal the Heart, we can save Valoria."

The storm outside seems to react to their conversation, the winds howling as if in response to their words.

Marcus looks to Spock, her eyes filled with determination. "We need to find a way to reconnect the Heart to the planet," she says. "We can't just fix the symptoms; we have to address the cause."

Spock nods in agreement, his eyes reflecting the light from the console. "The artifact on the Enterprise is the key to understanding the Heart's distress," he points out. "We must find a way to integrate its energy into the Heart's system to restore balance."

Tavel opens his eyes, his gaze intense. "The Heart is a part of the planet," he says. "We must convince it to rejoin the planetary collective, to remember its purpose."

The Heart's pulsations slow, the storm outside calming slightly. The trio knows they are on the right path.

The Heart of Valoria's consciousness seems to acknowledge their intentions. With a combined effort, Kirk, Marcus, and Tavel attempt to recalibrate the Heart, aiming to harness the power of the magnetic storm to

The trio, now fully understanding the Heart's distress, set their sights on an ambitious goal. They aim to manipulate the very essence of the magnetic storm threatening the planet. Drawing upon their shared love and unity, they work tirelessly at the console, inputting complex sequences of data and commands that resonate with the Heart's own energy patterns. The storm's chaotic fury is not merely a destructive force; it holds the potential to be a powerful tool for communication. Through their collective efforts, they seek to alter the storm's chaotic dance into a coherent message, a beacon that can reach the Enterprise and its crew. The console lights up in response to their touch, the Heart's energy swirling around them like a living aurora, weaving a pattern of hope amidst the turmoil.

The air in the chamber thickens as the Heart's energy responds to their touch, the magnetic fields fluctuating wildly.

They can feel the Heart's pain, its desperation to be heard by the only beings capable of understanding its plight.

The storm outside begins to shift, its rage giving way to a pattern of flashes and thunder that seems almost... deliberate.

On the bridge of the Enterprise, the crew notices the change in the storm's pattern, the chaos suddenly giving way to something... almost rhythmic.

Chekov's eyes widen as he reports the phenomenon. "Captain, the storm... it's... it's trying to communicate!"

*Uhura watches the display with a sense of awe, her hands dancing over the communication console as she attempts to interpret the alien signal.* "I'm receiving a pattern," she says, her voice filled with excitement. "It's not unlike the artifact's emanations."

"Actually, I think that's deliberate," Uhura murmurs, her eyes glued to the screen as the lightning flashes outside the Enterprise synchronize with the flickering of the console lights. Her delicate fingers fly over the controls, her mind racing to decode the complex pattern. "The landing party is trying to communicate with us through the storm."

Her words hang in the air, and the bridge crew exchanges puzzled glances.

Uhura's brow furrows in concentration, her eyes scanning the data intently. "It's a plea for help," she says, her voice steady despite the gravity of the revelation.

"They've figured out the storm's pattern," Uhura reports, her voice filled with urgency. "It's a form of communication, and they're trying to use the artifact's power to fix the storms. The storm is their way of reaching out to us, telling us what we need to do."

The bridge goes silent as the crew processes this new information.

Chekov looks up from his station, his gaze intense. "How do we respond?" he asks.

"Aye, lassie," Scotty says with a nod, his Scottish brogue thick with urgency. "It seems we've got ourselves a bit of a pickle. We've got to get that artifact to them posthaste. It's the only thing that can help calm this ragin' tempest of a planet's soul."

Scotty's eyes dart around the bridge, his mind racing. "We'll need to devise a way to safely transport it," he continues, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The magnetic fields are likely to cause a right mess with our transporters, but it might just be the ticket to restoring order to Valoria."

The Chief Engineer's eyes light up with determination. "We'll need to be careful, though," he warns. "If we're not precise, we could end up causin' more damage than good. But I have faith in our trio down there. They've got the skills and the... shall we say, personal connections, to make it work."

The bridge buzzes with renewed energy as the crew begins to brainstorm solutions.

Kirk's voice crackles over the comms, a mix of tension and resolve. "Scotty, it's simple. You suit up, take the artifact, and make your way down to the shuttle bay. Valoria is waiting for us, and we can't let it down. Remember, this isn't just a piece of technology; it's the lifeblood of the planet. Treat it with the respect it deserves."

A pause, and then Kirk's voice comes through again, softer. "And be careful, old friend. This mission is delicate, and we're all counting on you."

The weight of his words is palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger and importance of their task.

"Aye, Captain," Scotty responds, his voice a mix of solemnity and determination. "I'll not let you down. I'll get the artifact and prepare for launch. We'll be down on Valoria as soon as possible."

With a final nod, Scotty heads to the turbolift, the artifact in hand. The doors swish shut behind him, leaving the bridge in a tense silence.

As the turbolift descends, Scotty's heart races with anticipation. But fate has other plans. The turbolift jolts to a sudden stop, and alarms blare. The emergency lights flicker on, casting eerie shadows across the tiny space. Scotty checks the controls, his brow furrowed in confusion. It seems the magnetic storm has caused an unexpected malfunction, leaving him stranded somewhere between decks.

With a resigned sigh, Scotty opens the emergency hatch and climbs out into the dimly lit corridor. The ship's usual hum is replaced by an ominous silence, punctuated by the occasional clang of metal on metal.

Scotty, undeterred by the setback, taps his communicator. "Science Lab, this is Scotty. I've had a bit of a snag with the turbolift. Meet me at the nearest airlock with the artifact. I'll be there as soon as I can navigate these blasted Jeffries tubes."

The comm crackles to life with the sound of hurrying footsteps and hushed whispers. "On our way, Scotty," a voice replies, the urgency palpable. "We're bringing the artifact with us. ETA five minutes."

Scotty nods to himself, then squeezes into the Jeffries tube. His hands are slick with sweat as he crawls through the tight space, the metal cold and unyielding against his skin. The ship's infrastructure is a labyrinth, but he's been through it countless times before. His mind races with the ship's layout, calculating the fastest route to the airlock.

Upon receiving the artifact from the science lab, Scotty gently secures it to his suit. He checks the seals, making sure everything is tight. With a deep breath, he heads to the shuttle bay. The magnetic storm's intensity is such that a standard beam down isn't an option. Instead, he braces himself for the most daring of exits - space jumping.

In the bay, the shuttlecraft sits like a silent sentinel amidst the chaos. Scotty checks the instruments and makes sure the craft is prepped for the mission. "Enterprise, this is Scotty," he says into the comm. "Ready for the most unorthodox drop-off in Starfleet history."

The comm crackles with Kirk's acknowledgment. "We're with you, Scotty. Good luck."

With a nod to the shuttle's console, Scotty opens the airlock. The vacuum of space beckons, and with a final glance at the ship that's been his home for so long, he steps into the void.

The coldness of space envelops him, the stars a dizzying backdrop to his descent. He activates the suit's thrusters, aiming for the tumultuous surface of Valoria. But the magnetic interference plays havoc with his trajectory, and instead of a smooth landing, he finds himself hurtling towards the planet's crust.

The ground rushes up to meet him, and Scotty braces for impact. But instead of the expected crunch of rock and metal, there's a sudden jolt, and he's swallowed by darkness. He's stuck underground, the artifact's glow the only light in the oppressive blackness.

He tries to move, but the earth around him has compacted, trapping him in a subterranean tomb. Panic flutters in his chest, but he pushes it down, channeling his inner Vulcan calm. "Enterprise," he calls into the comm, his voice tight. "I've made an unscheduled stop."

The comm crackles again, but this time, it's no one responds. "

The silence on the other end of the comm is deafening. Scotty's heart races as he tries to keep his panic in check. "Enterprise, this is Scotty. I've encountered a wee bit of a snag. I'm trapped underground, but the artifact is intact. I'll need some help with the coordinates to get back to the Heart."

The silence stretches on, and Scotty can almost feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "If anyone can hear me, I could use a hand down here," he says, his voice a mix of humor and desperation.*

With no response from the Enterprise, Scotty knows he's on his own. He takes a deep breath and pulls off his glove, the cold metal of the artifact warming to his touch. "I guess it's just you and me, old girl," he murmurs to the artifact. He activates it, and the chamber around him lights up in a symphony of colors.

The artifact pulses with life, responding to his touch. It's clear that it's not just a piece of technology, but a living, sentient being that holds the key to Valoria's salvation.

In the glow of the artifact, Scotty feels a strange kinship with it, a bond that goes beyond his understanding of engineering. He whispers to it, sharing his own story of love and unity, of the friends he's made on the Enterprise, and of their shared commitment to protecting life throughout the galaxy.

The artifact seems to hum in response, its light dimming and then growing brighter as if in understanding.

"Enterprise, can you hear me?" Scotty calls into the comm, his voice echoing in the confined space. "I'm going to try something... I'm going to attempt a telepathic link with Spock. Maybe together, we can find a way out of this mess."

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, focusing on the bond he feels with the artifact. "Spock, if you can hear me, I need your help. We're trapped, but I've got the artifact."

The silence stretches on, and for a moment, Scotty wonders if he's lost his mind.

And then, faintly, he feels it. A flicker of consciousness, a touch of understanding that isn't his own. It's Spock. The Vulcan's mind is a beacon of logic in the chaos, reaching out to him through the storm.

On the planet's surface, Spock senses Scotty's distress. His eyebrows furrow as he reaches out with his own telepathic abilities. "Scotty, I am here," he says, his voice calm and steady in the mind of the trapped engineer.*

Their minds connect, and Spock shares the coordinates of the Heart of Valoria with Scotty, the knowledge flowing through their bond. "You must hurry. The Heart is weakening."

"Aye, I've got 'er, Spock," Scotty says with relief, his eyes snapping open. "The Heart's location is locked in."

He examines the artifact, his hands moving over its smooth surface. It seems to respond to his touch, almost as if it's alive. "You're a clever one," he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his voice.*

The artifact's light shifts again, and Scotty feels a sudden jolt of energy. The ground around him shudders, and the compacted earth loosens its grip. With a grunt, he pushes himself free and stands in the cramped chamber, the artifact's light casting long shadows on the rocky walls.

As Scotty establishes a telepathic link with Spock, he's inundated with a flow of information from the sentient artifact. However, his engineering mind quickly sifts through the data, focusing on the practical aspects - the instructions on how to use the artifact. Unlike Kirk, who might have been overwhelmed by the emotional or philosophical content, Scotty's technical expertise allows him to interpret the instructions with ease. The artifact seems to recognize his unique abilities and tailors its communication to suit them.

The ground beneath him quivers, and Scotty's eyes widen as the earth around him shifts and cracks open. The artifact's energy is at work, granting him a path to the surface.

With newfound determination, Scotty clambers out of the hole, the artifact in hand. Its gentle hum seems to resonate with the very core of the planet. He sets off at a brisk pace, the light from the artifact guiding his way through the tumultuous landscape. The storm still rages, but the coordinates Spock has provided are clear in his mind.

Scotty navigates through the chaos, dodging debris and leaping over fissures. The wind howls around him, but he remains steadfast, driven by the urgency of his mission.

Scotty arrives at the Heart of Valoria, panting and covered in dust. The storm's intensity seems to have doubled, the winds screaming around the ancient stone structure like a living beast. The Heart itself pulses erratically, the air charged with a mix of fear and hope. The trio of Kirk, Dr. Marcus, and Tavel are there, their faces a map of worry and concentration.

The moment Scotty emerges from the shadows, the storm seems to pause, as if the planet itself has noticed his arrival.

Spock, his eyes closed in deep concentration, stands before the Heart, his fingers splayed over the glowing console. He's trying to channel the artifact's power, to weave it into the very fabric of Valoria. But it's clear that his own mental strength isn't enough. The Heart's power is too vast, too wild, for a single mind to control. He needs help.

With the artifact in hand, Scotty approaches Spock, his gaze locking onto the Vulcan's. He understands what needs to be done. Without a word, he places his free hand on Spock's shoulder, the two of them forming a bridge between the Heart and the artifact.

Their bond is immediate and profound, a confluence of logic and emotion, of science and intuition. The artifact's light flares, and the Heart's erratic pulse begins to steady.

Tavel steps forward, his eyes glowing with a fierce determination. As a Reman, he shares a unique connection with the planet's sentience. Placing his hand alongside Scotty's, he connects with the Heart, allowing its consciousness to flow through him. His bond with the planet is deep, almost primal, and he can feel its pain, its desperation.

With Spock's mental guidance and Scotty's mechanical acuity, they piece together the puzzle of the Heart's malfunction. It's a delicate dance, a symphony of thoughts and emotions, as they attempt to mend the rift between the artifact and the planet.

Scotty's mind races, interpreting the complex patterns of energy that flow through the Heart. He sees where the connections have been severed, where the life force of Valoria is blocked. His engineering instincts kick in, and he begins to mentally rewire the system, his thoughts a blur of circuits and power streams.

Tavel's eyes go wide as he feels the Heart's anguish, its cries for help echoing through his very soul. He whispers to it, soothing it with his own strength and the love of his people, who once knew such suffering.

The storm above them seems to hold its breath as they work, the very fabric of the planet waiting for their intervention.

Dr. Marcus, her own empathic abilities flaring to life, joins the trio. She lends her strength to the link, her love for Kirk and her hope for their future together melding with the love shared by Scotty and Spock. The Heart responds, its pulse growing stronger, more stable.

Together, the four of them form a quartet of unity and power, their combined efforts resonating with the Heart of Valoria. The storm begins to abate, the winds dying down to a gentle whisper.

They call the Enterprise on their communicators, their voices strained but triumphant. "We've done it," Spock's voice says, filled with relief. "The Heart is stable. The storm is calming."

Chekov's voice comes through the comm, a mix of amazement and pride. "Captain, the magnetic field is fluctuating. It's... it's beautiful!"

Uhura's voice joins the chorus. "The pattern is shifting. It's becoming... coherent. It's like the planet itself is singing."

The bridge crew cheers, their applause echoing through the comm as the storm's energy is channeled into a harmonious dance around the planet. The Heart of Valoria beats strong and steady once more.

"We've calibrated a shuttle for the mission," Scotty informs Kirk. "It's the safest way to get you all back up here. Sulu's on his way down to retrieve you."

Kirk nods, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Despite the gravity of the situation, he can't help but feel a thrill at the sheer audacity of their plan. "Good work, Scotty. We'll be ready for him."

On the Enterprise, Sulu runs through the pre-flight checks with a focused intensity. He's piloted through worse, but never with so much at stake. "Sulu to Kirk," he says, his voice calm. "I'm launching the shuttle now. ETA five minutes."

On the planet's surface, the team braces themselves against the lingering winds, watching the sky for any sign of their ride.

The shuttle breaks through the clouds like a silver bullet, its engines roaring a promise of escape. It lands with a gentle thud, the hatch opening to reveal a concerned but smiling Sulu.

With the Heart of Valoria stabilized, the skies begin to clear, revealing the majesty of the cosmos once more. The quartet boards the shuttle, each one feeling a profound sense of accomplishment and camaraderie. They share a brief, silent look, understanding the gravity of what they've done. As the shuttle ascends, they leave the tumultuous surface behind, climbing into the inky blackness of space.

The Enterprise looms into view, a beacon of home amidst the stars. Scotty's voice comes over the comm, a hint of a smile in his tone. "Welcome back, Captain. We've got a hot cup of tea waiting for you."

Kirk laughs, the sound rich with relief and joy. "Thank you, Scotty. And congratulations on your unconventional spacewalk. It's good to be home."

"By the way, Captain," Scotty says with a knowing smile as he secures the artifact into the shuttle's cargo hold, "you might want to reconsider who gets first dibs on these artifacts next time. It's not just scientists who can appreciate them, you know. Sometimes, it's us engineers who can see the real beauty in how things tick."

He winks at Kirk, his Scottish brogue thick with good-natured teasing. "But don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't get too jealous," he adds, patting the side of the shuttle. "This old girl's got enough love for all of us."

The shuttle docks with the Enterprise, and the team steps into the familiar embrace of the ship. As they walk through the corridors, the artifact's light dims, its purpose fulfilled. The crew gathers around, eager to hear their tale. Scotty can't help but feel a swell of pride at their victory, one that was as much a testament to their unity as it was to their individual skills.

[monsooninn]

Berakhot 8a:10. "The Surrounds."

Mashiach is portrayed as a person, but really he, it, is a camel. If a camel were an air traffic controller at an airport, he could guide the aircraft to the oasis in the sky. But Jewish people are told to fly without going anywhere at all. It is the inner character that has to find a way to be a camel. This camel leads to an Oasis called Moksha in Sanskrit, or Motsa "the way out" in Hebrew.

The Mishnah says good camels get married first, to the bride of Shabbat, and then they deal with the bitterness: the consequences of being free in a world that depends upon oppression for stability:

Even if a Jew finds his most presentable Jewish Self, even if he gets married and observes Shabbos, the world can still sneak up and try to kill us:

10. In the evening, because a person is surrounded by a camel, say to her: "Find" or "Motsa"? "Finding" reads: "Finding a woman is a good find and produces God's will", "Finding" reads: "And finding I am bitter over the death of the woman" and so on.

The Value in Gematria is 7942, זטדב‎, zatdev, "know how to perceive, understand, comprehend and grasp."

No one is expected to memorize every word of the Torah, the Mishnah and the Tanakh and become walking talking Jewish Library. If one refers to the Torah Karika I created, God said there should be Orders, schools with certain classes of monks and nuns that do nothing but try to understand all of it so that the Jewish community has a Burning Bush in its midst at all times that is able to respond to its needs.

Individual study of the Torah may ring some bells but if it does not solve all of life's problems, the Orders are there to serve. Even if one knows how to be Jewish and serve still the Mishnah warns about the bitterness.

Bitterness and acumen are both associated with the survival instinct one needs to be an ordinary free person. Jews worry about wearing their Kippers, Muslims worry about their skullcaps, everyone is worried (again) about being gay or being black. Something in the past created the freedom to self-discover and then self-express, and now that freedom is threatened. It makes us all anxious.

The objective of this global enterprise is complete freedom, and not just from the chains of slavery but to the discomforts and delusions of others. None of the oppressive tones found possessing the planet earth at this time are legal, we took care of that, but they are still popular.

Camels are supposed to tavel is a row towards this place and time in human civilization. If we are surrounded by camels instead of following the one, the way shall not be found. So at least one needs to know the way.

Once the first camel arrives at this oasis the Mishnah says, it will be as good as if all have arrived because it means we will have at last discovered the way and will not lose it again.

The final stage of Mashiach will be take place later, when no one is bitter over being free or obeying the law and allowing others to be free without any resentment at all.

[tratripho]

5 Amazing Sights You Most To See in Dubai

Dubai is the most popular cities in the United Arab Emirates. It is known for its spectacular attractions such as Dubai Creek and Burj Khalifa. If you are planning a trip to Dubai, we recommend visiting the following main attractions. Continue reading.

1. Burj Khalifa

Dubai is known for its largest shopping centers and tallest buildings such as the Burj Khalifa. This building has the fastest elevator in the world. You can reach the top in a few seconds. If you have a weak heart, don't do it. However, if you build up your courage, you will have a spectacular view. If you like taking photos, you can also take great photos of the city on top of the structure.

2. Dubai Creek

 If you enjoyed your time at the top of Burj Khalifa, you should take a stroll through Abra (my favorite) Dubai Creek. On the south side you can rent a covered boat at the most popular station in Bur Dubai Abra. Then you can enjoy the ride until sunset.

 Close your eyes and the ship will take you back to the 1960s. On the other hand, you have the freedom to visit the Spice Souk, one of the most beautiful markets in Dubai. You can buy incense there.

 3. The Sheikh Mohammed Center for Cultural Understanding

Would you like to learn more about Islam? Are you too scared to ask questions about this religion? If so, this is your chance to ask all of your questions about Islam. This place is ideal for you if you want to have an intercultural experience. This center will change your idea of ​​Islam and give you a new idea of ​​this religion of peace.

UAE traditional cuisine is the perfect choice for breakfast or lunch. Alternatively, you can opt for a Camel chocolate bar. If you are brave enough, you can climb the roof and enjoy the wonderful view.

 4. public parks

 Although Dubai is not known for its parks, you can find many green, clean, quiet, and beautiful parks there. You only have to pay a small part of the entrance fee and can see that Pakistani, Filipino, Arab, Indian and European families are doing well. Safa Park, for example, spans 150 acres and has hills, waterfalls, and grass.

 5. Ravi

Ravi is on the top list of the most popular restaurants in Dubai. It is usually associated with guests from all over the world. You won't find tablecloths, suspicious waiters, or wine lists. You can try the delicious curry prepared by Pakistani staff. An entire family can eat there for less than 100 Dhs.

  If you are traveling to Dubai this year, you should definitely visit these 5 sights. You will have a good time if you go with family or friends.

[orebic-travel]

Vietnam Vacation Travel Video Guide

Vietnam Vacation Travel Video Guide

Travel video about destination Vietnam. North Vietnam is still ruled by communism but in the south the hammer and sickle fades into capitalism that is gradually …

[shepard-ram]

New Day Brings New Faces [Hc!Reader & Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo]

(Mostly P!fluff, Request: I am that person who will request a part 2 for your fic- I am a sucker for these kinds of things and that fic was a hella good pick me up, thank you-

-🍯)

(I haven't been able to stop thinking about scenarios I am so happy to provide more crossover comfort. I am totally down to make this a full series. And the hermits are actually here this time!)

[Part 1 -Ambassadors Work]

[End Busting -side episode]

----------

You woke up stiff and lightly shaken, literally someone was gently shaking you. When you fully opened your eyes you met three faces. Your admin, mayor and his right hand shared the same confused, slightly worried expression. You glanced around looking for their source of concern, looking at your lap and- oh, oh yeah.

Your mind helpfully recalled the events of the previous day. It was Ranboo who had his head in your lap, barely an inch way Tommy and Tubbo layed next to you two. The three boys still fast asleep. With a quick glance at the sun you knew you had barley been asleep for an hour.

"I'm sure you have alot to say." Xisuma had finally said something after seeing you had collected your thoughts.

"Yeah, I do." Chuckling, still in a sleep clogged voice. "Please don't wake them up." You quickly added in a more hushed voice. "They deserve some rest." That didn't help their confusion, until you had explained why you had taken the boys with you.

"Was it really that bad?." Scar had asked after your summary. They shared a similar look to the one you wore when you realized how awful that place was.

"Yes it was." When you remembered something. You handed them the book with all the things you had learned over your visit. "I was given a tour, that has more than I can think of now." Letting out a yawn, already dozing back off.

"I know that things like this are decided by the whole server, but can you please let them stay for at least a little while." You made your request In the most sincere tone you could manage. "When they wake up I was planning on taking them to my base. Let them wash up, maybe get some clean clothes and a proper meal- and just take it easy before meeting some of the others."

"I don't see why they wouldn't let them stay." Bdubs responded. That made you smile. "But you should probably wake them up, surely someone will pass by soon." You nodded, beginning to slowly nudge them awake.

"Should we go?" Scar asked.

"No, they should meet you guys." He nodded sitting on the railing of the stairs. You watched the three groan from both the early awakening and the non-ideal bed they had been on. As soon as they saw the three unknown hermits they almost jumped back in various versions of shock. Tommy specifically looked like he had gone to draw a weapon had they been able to tavel through worlds. You hushed them standing up to introduce your friends, "Good morning boys" you started in a soft voice trying to keep them calm.

"Who are they?" Ranboo spoke first, he had been the least startled from the beginning.

"A few of my friends, Xisuma, Scar and Bdubs." You pointed to each of them as you spoke.

"Oh Scar and Bdubs? We were told about you" Tubbo said smiling towards you.

"Really?" Scar grinned.

"Yeah we got a history lesson" Ranboo explained before turning to X. "I don't think you were mentioned though"

"You didn't tell them about our admin?" Bdubs teased. Before you could make a retort Tommy fully got up, breathing much too quickly.

"Admin?" Making the connection in your head you rushed to his side. Trying to get him out of his frazzled state.

"Hey, trust me he's nothing like dream, -here breath" you guided Tommy back to the ground Tubbo placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Xisuma hesitantly kneeled in front of the teen.

"I was told a little about your home, I don't want to scare you." His efforts seemed to reach him, "If there's something I can do to make you more comfortable please tell me" Tommy nodded full exceptance marked with him putting out his hand, which X met with a smile and handshake. From there the two sets of three properly introduce themselves to each other. You felt a soft, warm pride wrap your heart watching them get along.

As the Hermit trio left to start the days work you told them the day you had planned, opening a nearby ender chest to retrieve some elytras. They watched in fascination as you produced four identical sets, along with enough rocket's to get you all to your base.

Tubbo seemed off-put as you strapped on your wings, "Do we have to fly?"

"The server's pretty big, it's pretty much a necessity."

"Oh, okay- I just" seeing him worryingly eye your rocket's you offered an alternative.

"you know we probably don't have enough time to teach you how to fly right now, and we aren't running on full sleep." You reasoned, "There's a nether tunnel can take. Completely enclosed, no flying needed- only an optional boat."

"Boat?" You smiled already leading them toward the nearest portal.

By the time you had reached the portal that connected to your base the boats you had used were dented and marked from basically being used as bumper carts. The four of you stumbled through the portal still laughing about the race you had took on the way there.

"Here I'll get you guys some food then we'll get some proper sleep." A yawn marked your proposal. They let out varying levels of enthusiasm while taking seats on the coaches and armchairs that filled this part of your base. "When we wake up I'll get you actual beds." You promised.

Yet when you returned with some golden carrots and steak they were already passed out on the spot. You didn't fight the tired smile that formed, going to get them some blankets. You set the food on a nearby table before heading to your own bed. Despite the bright, almost noon sun outside the window, you knew you wouldn't have any trouble sleeping. With a few ideas of what to do and what to show them, you let familiar comfort take you back to rest.

[travel-and-adventure1-blog]

The best way to travel africa !!! Travel guide to the panorama route and kruger national park

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

I Trust You

I trust you by FlyingBoy001

Bakuiida week, day 6: trust, tavel, fantasy AU.

Iida is on a journey with Uraraka and Todoroki to rescue Midoriya, and they need a barbarian to go through a dangerous forest. However, he would not go willingly, so they decide to tie him up to the back of a horse and force him to be their guide. And Iida has to struggle with his dessire to free the barbarian.

Words: 3134, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Iida Tenya, Todoroki Shouto, Uraraka Ochako

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Iida Tenya

Additional Tags: BakuIida Week 2021, Trust, Travel, Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, implied Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako/Todoroki Shouto, rated for Bakugou's sailor mouth, Not Beta Read, Mutual Pining, The romance is mostly implied

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32617297

[wonderlesch]

A Stands for Amazing Travel Adventures - Virginia

Amazing Travel Adventures - Virginia shares treasures to go to and to see during your next vacation or getaway to Virginia. Let's travel!

Hello and welcome to Amazing Tavel Adventures – Virginia. Here I am sharing my travel destination guide for all things Virginia. Let’s explore ad discover parks, bridges, universities and so much more. Let’s travel Virginia style! Parks and Parks and Parks – Virginia 1. Shenandoah National Park follows the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. The Park offers Skyline drive which allows you to drive…