#Best Price Cash Counting Machines for Hotels

[maxsell00]

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A currency-counting maker is a tool that counts cash - essentially loose money notes. The counters may totally be mechanically or electronically operated. The machines commonly provide a best overall matter of all the cash, or matter particular batch sizes for saving cash money; like in banks. Also these money counting devices can detect fake currency notes which is an impressive success in this class. Currency counters are commonly utilized in vending makers as in mall to determine what quantity of cash is really being transferred in money counters. Maxsell.Tech is a leading cash-counting machine supplier, we provide top-quality cash counting machine products at a competitive price.

In today's market we have 2 great money counting products: one is compact and the various other one is fully automatic, both of them fairly durable. The Compact V30 cash checking maker is designed only for counting; it is very much handy as well as additionally light in weight and portable. Operate with 4 pencil cells batteries or adapter; this is quite ideal for most of the currencies. The device can count up-to 100 currency notes in simply 5 seconds. Its portable & handy features make it very easy alternative for taking a trip. Maxsell.tech. have  a wide range of machines to suit your needs, and our team is always available to help you choose the right one for your business. 

As the size is small, it can be maintained next to your table or the cash money counter. The digital LED display screen counts and also shows variety of notes in bright red led light. Light in weight: just 450 grams with batteries. Its additional function enables the device to count up-to 999 notes at one go. The maker appropriates for Indian rupee notes in addition to for worldwide currency. Maxsell.tech. company also offer a wide range of LED video wall solutions that are perfect for any event or installation.

The maker comes with six months guarantee. The cash counting equipment has all vital features which a money counting equipment needs to have. The gadget has all the most recent moduses operandi like the counting and detecting setting, adding, and also batching mode. The maker has automobile begin function, automated cleansing sensor, as well as UV-ultraviolet discovery. Maxsell.tech Indian Rupee Mixed Note Counter. With its advanced note identification system, you can be sure that your money is always counted correctly. 

We provide a wide range of money counters such as digital money counters, coin counters. The gadget can count up-to 1200 notes per minute. Durable chassis with retracting carrying deal with, suitable for multi-currency, half note as well as keeps in mind stuck detection function, fast and also easy to run, it has automatic problem checking out. Exterior consumer display, counting display screen with digital LED and also includes 3 months guarantee. Mostly these currency counting gadgets are significantly essential for banks, offices, precious jewelry shops & various other stores, hotels, dining establishments, shopping malls and in a lot more places for cash money counting.

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[dcnatural]

Is There Somewhere

Word Count: 2392

Pairing: Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn meet to finish unfinished business, and Ivy recalls a magical night the duo had shared.

Unless you knew what you were looking for, the Gotham Garden Motel was hard to spot. Squeezed between two warehouses on the road leading to Arkham Island, the building seemed abandoned: the glass of the windows was covered in dust, making it impossible to see anything in the other side; the sign which announced the name of the establishment was missing some letters and the neon lights had long stopped working; the roof was missing a couple of tiles and the white paint was peeling off the outside walls, which were covered by cracks. It was a miracle the place was still standing.

Despite the decrepit state of the motel, its driveway was often filled with cars and people were seen going in and out at a regular basis. If one dared to open the rotten wooden door, they would find themselves inside a shockingly well illuminated reception. It even had a waiting area, which included a tube television and a coffee machine. An employee in a cheap cotton uniform sat behind the large desk, alternating between watching a soap opera and scribbling something on the notebook open in front of them. A door reading “Employees Only” leads into the office, a separated area with two large window panes that could be used to spy on the reception. 

They didn’t ask for IDs and only accepted upfront payments made in cash, the registration was as simple as writing whichever name you wanted in the book and leaving the money. You would then be given a key to your room. This discretion was the main reason behind the motel's popularity. Whether you were a cheating husband, a drug dealer or a high tier super criminal, if you wanted to have a clandestine meeting, this was the place to come. Everyone who visited the motel was involved in some shady business. The whole premise of the place was that you could come, do your shit and leave, no questions asked.

That's why the clerk didn’t bat an eye when Poison Ivy came striding in through the front entrance, placed a wad of cash in the front desk, signed the visitor’s log, took the key for room 93 and headed to the staircase without saying a word. Nor did the clerk find it unusual when, fifteen minutes later, Harley Quinn burst in and raced upstairs, not even bothering to close the door after her.

Room 93 was located on the fourth floor. Unlike most hotels, which the room’s number indicated their respective floor, the Gotham Garden didn’t use this rationale. Instead, the numbers had been randomly assigned; a brilliant idea that occured to the first owner after getting wasted in a bar downtown. Therefore, there was no intuitive way of finding your room, and the guests were required to carefully read the maps plastered to the walls of the staircase.

While the reception gave the impression of belonging to a decent place, the rest of the hotel matched the state of the outside. The red carpet covering the floor had a thick cover of dust and mold, the lamps in the ceiling were either burned out or flickered inconsistently. Cockroaches crawled around, and one could hear the screeches made by the rats inhabiting the wall. Each door had been painted with a different color, but now the ink was faded and everything looked like a lifeless gray.

Harley verified if the hallway was clear before tapping on the dark-blue door. Dressed in a black hat with a wide brim, overly large star-shaped pink sunglasses and an old trench coat, she looked like the most comical spy in the world.

The knock caused Ivy to jump from her chair, and she stumbled to reach the door. She gave a quick glance at the bathroom mirror to ensure that her vivid red hair was well combed and her shirt was in place. Her heartbeat was frantic and she took a deep breath to calm herself, inhaling the lavender scent of her perfume.

Ivy sighed as she contemplated the girl before her. “Didn’t I tell you to be discreet?”, she complained as Harley skipped inside.

“This is discreet, Pams. No one can recognize me with these glasses. Betcha you wouldn’t have known it was me if I hadn’t told you I was coming disguised”, she replied as she removed the sunglasses and tossed them aside. They skittered through the floor before stopping underneath the wardrobe. 

She then took off her hat, letting her blonde locks cascade down her back. The colorful streaks had been washed off, with only ghostly remnants of pink and blue to evidence the product of Harley’s latest post-break-up-hair-makeover. It only made sense that now that she was back with the Joker she would try to erase any change she had made during their time apart.

The darkened windows didn’t allow much light to pass through and, despite being early afternoon, Ivy had turned on the twin lamp shades that decorated the nightstands, their floral pattern casting shadows in the threadbare arabic rug that covered the floor underneath the bed.

Harley sat in the far end of the bed, back propped against the wall and legs stretched over the mattress. “So, what’d you wanted to talk about, uh?”

Ivy paced around the room, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Harley. “How could you go back to him?”, the words left her mouth in an urgent whisper. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision and she felt the urge to brush them away. Tears were a sign of weakness and weaknesses weren't a luxury she could afford. In fact, the last time she had cried was back when she still was Pamela Isley, on that fateful day that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her last tears had been shred when she laid on the floor, dying only to be reborn as Poison Ivy.

Harley idly played with her hair, curling it around her well manicured fingers. She didn’t know how to reply to that. Why did she return to the Joker every time? Why did she still love him when all he did was hurt her? She knew it was an abusive relationship, she hadn't spent years training as a shrink for nothing, but she couldn't find the strength in herself to cut him out of her life. For better or for worse, he had shaped her into who she was now. She feared that without his influence in her life, she would go back into being Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and honestly, the prospect of normalcy terrified her.

But she couldn't tell Ivy all of that, so she did what she knew best and created a diversion. "You know, your hair’s fantastic today. Are you using a new shampoo?"

As if moving by their own accord, Ivy's lips curled into a smile. She cursed herself. She should be angry, sad, outraged. But there was something about Harley that always made her let her guard down. Harley had the gift of bringing happiness into Ivy's loneliness. And perhaps that was the reason why that betrayal had hurt so much.

Ivy collapsed into the bed, careful not to get too close to Harley. She wasn't sure if she could deal with so much proximity right now. Not in this bed, at least. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wonder. To travel back to a week ago, before the Joker sweeped in again and took Harley with him. Back to when it had been just the two of them, hiding in this same room while they counted their loot and laughed about the stupidity of the guards of the jewelry story they had just robbed.

That day had awakened something in Ivy, and she had thought that her friend felt the same. But clearly she had been wrong. 

In her mind she relieved it all, every single detail of that fateful day, from the smell of the strawberry bubblegum Harley had been chewing to the sound of gold clittering against gold.

* * *

The first thing Harley had done once they were secured inside the room was to remove her jester suit, the sweaty outfit was sticking to her skin and making her itchy. Stripped to her underwear and tube socks, she had then proceeded to catalogue every single item they had stolen, listing the retail price in a chart. 

Ivy had offered to help, but Harley had her own system and every time the redhead tried to do something she only mixed it all up. So she had given up and was texting her usual fence to ask when they could meet.

"I love this song", Harley shouted when the radio began to play a slow pop ballad. She seemed like a completely different person from the concentrated woman she was seconds ago. Climbing off the bed, she began to dance, with a grace that only the ones who had trained for years were able to do. She moved like air, arms swaying to the rhythm of the music and hips rocking back and forth in matching pace. The whiteness of her skin was a stark contrast to the black and red socks she wore, and Ivy’s gaze lingered on those long and slender legs. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to have those legs tangled around her own body, to have those hands caressing her skin. 

“Come dance with me”, Harley asked, tugging Ivy’s arm and trying to pull her to her feet.

Ivy shook her head. “I don’t dance.”

Harley rolled her eyes and pouted. “Pretty please, for me! It’s boring to dance alone.”

Faced with the other girl’s plea, Ivy couldn’t find in her the strength to say ‘no’ and so she relented, allowing Harley to pull her up. Ivy’s movements were awkward, her body rigid whereas Harley’s was fluid. She misteped and tripped, but Harley was always there to catch her before she fell.

The song ended and another began, and they kept swirling around the room. The soft melody brought them closer, Harley’s arms embracing Ivy’s waist, chests pressed together and faces inches apart. Harley suppressed a yawn, eyelids fluttering shut as exhaustion began to take over. She nestled her head on Ivy’s shoulder, taking advantage of her friend’s taller stature. 

The rest of the world faded away, all that Ivy could think of was the intoxicating feeling of Harley’s lips brushing against her bare skin. Outside, a car passed by, the headlamp shining even through the dirt glass, creating a brief spotlight for the two girls.

A false move caused Harley to trip, and they stumbled, Ivy’s back landing on the saggy mattress with Harley on top of her. For a moment, time stood still. They laid over the white sheets, not moving and barely breathing. A tension hung in the air between them, an unvoiced desire that previously neither had felt. 

Then, before Ivy knew what was happening, Harley leaned down and brought her mouth to Ivy’s, hovering like that for an instant before closing the remaining distance. At first, the touch was light as a feather, barely there. Then, with renewed passion, Harley pressed harder, Ivy’s lips welcoming her. Ivy didn’t protest as Harley slid the strapless leotard out of her body, the garment falling to the floor near where Harley’s own jumpsuit laid.

When Harley pulled away, it was only so she could lay a trail of wet kisses. She sucked, licked and bit every inch of exposed skin, venturing further down with each second. She stopped at Ivy’s navel, looking up in search for permission, and Ivy remembered how to move for just long enough to nod, before collapsing back onto the bed. 

Every nerve in Ivy’s body was on fire. Her mind was numb. She felt nothing but Harley. Harley’s mouth. Harley’s fingers. Harley’s skin. Harley. Harley. Harley. The name echoed in Ivy’s mind with every beat of her heart. Ivy clutched tightly at Harley’s arms, the firmness of the muscles underneath her fingers ensuring her that this wasn’t just part of her imagination. Ivy felt herself coming undone under her friend’s touch. She couldn’t think she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breath. All her worries and fears that clouded her brain faded away until only Harley was left.

* * *

“Pammy?”

Harley’s voice pulled Ivy back to the present and she snapped her eyes open. “I thought we had something.”

“We did. We do. You are my best friend. I love you. I really do”, there was a note of sadness in Harley's voice as she spoke.

Tears spilled out of the corners of Ivy’s eyes. “But you love him more.”

Harley nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…”

“No”, Ivy interrupted, sliding out of the bed. “It’s fine. I was foolish to believe you would actually leave him for real. I just wish I could let this go, forget it ever happened.”

She realized now how stupid this had been. Nothing she did could ever change Harley’s mind. She needed to get out of that room, she needed fresh air.

“Ives, come on”, Harley pleaded, rushing to grab Ivy’s arm before she could leave.

Ivy twisted out of her friend’s hold and opened the door. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

The door closed shut behind Ivy and Harley allowed her body to fall to the floor, back against the scrapped dark blue paint. A sob escaped her lips and she buried her face in her knees, shielding herself from the world. She felt alone. Her best friend had abandoned her. And perhaps I deserve that, Harley thought. She didn’t know which was her worst mistake: falling in love with the Joker or with Ivy.

Outside, Ivy inhaled the fresh afternoon air and began the long walk back to the Botanical Garden. She hadn’t meant to fall in love that night, but now it was done and there’s no way of fixing it. She wished Harley could leave the Joker, not just out of jealousy but because she knew her friend deserved better. I could offer her better.

The dusk had settled over Gotham when a figure wearing a trench coat and hat left the Gotham Garden Motel. She opened the door to a green car and, with the motor rumbling, she took off into the darkness.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Hickory Dick-ory Dock (baon)

Summary: A prequel to the series, a glimpse at how Sans and Red's relationship got started.

Tags:  Kustard, Angst, Ecto-Genitalia, Sex, Antagonism, Brats to Lovers, Lemony Goodness

Notes:  Okay, this is the last kustard one, I swear, Edge and Stretch just needed a little break after everything that happened. Besides, with all this Sans and Red stuff coming up, I thought it might be interesting to see how they started out. 

It's swell! Watch out for that lemony goodness!

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was either too early or way too fucking late to be awake, and Sans’s body hadn’t decided on which one yet. The only chair in the room was as shitty as the rest of the furniture, stiff-backed and with the kinds of stains it didn’t pay to think too deeply about. Not really worth sitting in except for those moments where someone shouldn’t be having a cigarette but still was. Supposed to be no smoking anywhere indoors, but in a motel that prided itself on a cash-only, Sans didn’t think anyone would be chasing them down for a cleaning fee.

Of the two vending machines by the elderly ice maker, only one of them worked and it reluctantly parted with a can of Pepsi for the rip-off price of two bucks. Not even an honest swindle, it was piss-warm and unsatisfying, even for someone without a proper throat.

The tiny bottle of whiskey he’d nabbed earlier on the plane was of a decent sort, though, helped smooth the path down, and by their powers combined, it was teetering on the edge of acceptable. Not like they were going to be here for long, anyway. Sulking about it would be petty waste of precious little time.

“you gonna offer me some of that or keep it for your private party?”

Sans glanced at the bed, but Red didn’t bother opening his sockets, still sprawled out in the wreck of the sagging mattress. A corner of the sheet was draped over his pelvis in a parody of modesty and the colorful splatter on his femurs made Sans idly think of the modern art at the museum Blue dragged all of them to a few weeks back.

Sans took a deliberate sip from the can, then a drag from the cigarette, holding in the smoke long enough for it to start seeping from his sockets before he exhaled it. “dunno, haven’t decided. maybe i like a solo act better.”

That got him a single socket opened, a thin rim of crimson showing. “yeah? was getting the idea earlier you preferred a duet. i spent the better part of an hour sucking you off, and this is the thanks i get?”

“isn’t it supposed to be the thought that counts when it comes to gifts?”

“uh huh, and what i’m thinking is it should be your turn to make your way downtown,” Red shifted, drawing his knees up and letting them fall to either side. The tangle of the sheet gave tantalizing glimpses of pelvis and the beginnings of a swirl of magic within it. “c’mere, little boy blue, come blow my horn.”

Sans snorted and crushed out the cigarette on the scarred old desk, leaving a blackened mark that matched a dozen others. “like i’ve never heard that before.”

“i know you haven’t,” Red gave him a sly, sulking look and rolled to his side, giving Sans his back, and yeah, he got the unspoken insult there. “you’ve never fucked anyone with my crushing wit.”

“mother goose ain’t exactly phd material and you might be crushing, but i’m the one pounding tonight.”

Sans hopped down from the chair and snagged the can, carrying it with him to the bed. He sat on the side of the mattress, trailing an idly finger down the intricate curves of Red’s spine. That was worth a faint sigh, exhaled through a jagged-tooth smile. Fondling the sensitive cartilage between each vertebra was better, Red arching into the touch with a hissed groan, undulating between that generously stroking hand and the stained sheets.

It added to the novelty of the occasion, could tack that sight right in with all the other scenery Sans never expected to see. Lovely bones, gleaming palely in the neon light creeping in through the slatted blinds covering the windows. The scars littering Red’s bones were predicable, but discovering the slimness of them beneath that ever-present jacket wasn’t, smaller even than Sans, all bulked up and hidden beneath heavy layers.

None of that made Red any less dangerous, but then, that was part of the fun, now wasn’t it.

His hand got lazy while Sans was taking in the sights and Red made a complaining sort of sound, rolling onto his back and stretching. The sheet, already doing a poor job at an attempt at modesty gave up even that, sliding completely loose. That left nothing covering Red but the remnants of come, still tacky yet, smearing as Red ran a pin-sharp fingertip up the inside of his femur. Sans watched, rapt, as red and blue mingled, sullied into purple.

“give me that.”

For a split second, Sans lurched obediently forward, ready to crawl between those femurs. Then he saw that wickedly sharp smirk curling up and noticed Red was reaching out towards the can that was starting to crumple in Sans’s too-tight grip.

It didn’t pay well to show Red any weakness and Sans swallowed down his flusterment, handing it over. Watched as Red tipped it back and swallowed down half the can in a single gulp. There was probably a pun to be made there, getting hit hard with a soft drink, but instead he only watched, tried not to think of what his eye lights were revealing as he stared at Red licking his teeth, the tips tinging to crimson as he nicked his own tongue against them.

“you gonna come down here or just enjoy the show?”

“i was about to leave,” Sans said, slowly. Like it wasn’t a lie and he wasn’t sitting here without even his shorts on. “paps will be wondering where i am.”

All the ambassadors were tucked away in their own five-star hotel, none of them suspecting their head of security and his second had skulked off, leaving them with the rest of the bodyguards. They were safe as houses, had to be or Red never would’ve been coaxed off, but Paps might come to his room, might ask for a bedtime story or just a chat.

“yeah, can’t let your little brother know you’re sneaking out to fuck around with me, now can you?” Poisonously sweet and okay, Red could, and did, get away with murder all the fucking time, but Sans wasn’t gonna let that slide.

“that how you want to play it?” Sans let a smirk of his own work its way loose. Like this lovely secrecy was for his benefit? “oh, miss mary, quite contrary, you want me to call him? i can give him the room number, see if he wants to stop in and verify. probably some paperwork that needs done, ain’t there, the bossman fucking his subordinate, bet he’d volunteer to help, he likes filling out forms.”

“you’d need form 109b, you’re the one who fucked me,” Red’s eye lights glittered with unnamed emotion. “hoping i’ll call you on that?”

“go ahead, if you think i’m joking, i could use a few chuckles."

“bet you could. i’m all about the jokes, but 3 am is a tough crowd.”

Sans ran his tongue along the even line of his teeth, considering. And then he went for blood. “we aren’t meeting up at roach motels to keep secrets from my brother. tell you what, wanna give the edgelord a call, instead? bet he and stretch are already done banging for the night, all curled up together for beddy-bye.”

“it’s 11am back in the states, i’m more likely to interrupt some meeting.” Oh, but there was blood in the water now, and fucking shark that he was, Red could smell it.

“great, then asgore can listen to our first ever porn podcast.”

Sans reached for his shorts and dug out his phone, humming as he pulled up Papyrus’s contact. “i don’t worry about my bro. let me give him a call, then you can call yours—”

His phone clattered to the floor as Red slapped it out of his hands. Sans kinda hoped it wasn’t broken, he wasn’t gonna have time to get a new one in the morning before all the meetings started and sitting there without candy crush to keep him entertained would be an endless nightmare.

“you gonna fuck me or not.” The words caught on a snarl, Red’s eye lights shading into a deep, harsher crimson, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

Sans hummed thoughtfully. “you gonna give me something to fuck?”

He did one better, rolling onto his front and forming ectoflesh from just beneath his ribcage to the tops of his femurs. The generously rounded globes of his ass were a bribe, but Sans wasn’t too proud to be cheap. He cupped them in both hands, firm flesh but with comfortable give.

But he wasn’t quite ready to be bought. “needed a nice cushion for some pushin?”

“you’re bitching at me for mother goose when you’re putting out that shit? fuck me, already, before i die of boredom—hnn!”

Seemed polite to wait until he was at the end of a sentence to push two fingers into his cunt. So slick inside, already practically dripping with want and Red whimpered as Sans worked to coax out a little more, pressed in another finger just to feel the hot stretch around his knuckles.

“huh. think i like your mouth better when you aren’t speaking,” Sans teased. He worked another finger in, all that slippery wetness making it easy. Yeah, much better like this, gasping and whining, mangling obscenities while Sans scissored his fingers inside him.

"yeah? think this is gonna shut me up?” Red managed to gasp, "gonna have to try harder than that, i could take your fucking fi—gah!!”

"what was that? seemed like you had something to say, sweetheart." Red gave it another try at the same moment Sans gave a little thrust with his fingers, letting them glide in and out, riding that silky wetness as Red’s curses tangled in between whines. In the interest of both their orgasms, it seemed best to reach up and push two fingers into his mouth, forcing him to suck on them and hoping Red didn’t take the opportunity to bite them off.

Instead, a moan vibrated through his phalanges, the slick little tongue between his fingers made him think of other places that mouth had been. Tight, hot little mouth almost as good as his tight little pussy and yeah, it was kinda vulgar to pull his fingers free, slip them still wet between Red's legs to rub his clit but the lovely little writhe he did excused it.

"oh,” Red groaned out, “that's…oh, fuck, you – yeah, just –"

Might be better if he took the continuing effort at speech as a compliment. Not difficult to do with the way Red was pushing back at him, wriggling and rolling his hips in a way that could never be taught, could only be known. He felt the sudden clench around his fingers as Red started to come and quickly pulled them out, left his cunt clenching on nothingness while he scooted back away.

Even as Red spat out curses in the ruins of his orgasm, Sans caught hold of his hips and dragged him up to his knees, hastily forming his cock. He rubbed it along the wet slit, but Red was squirming so much beneath him he slipped away on the first try.

“hold still!” Sans slapped one asscheek, and Red howled…and did it, spreading his knees wider to let him line up. Then he had to catch his own breath, that long, easy slide inside, surrounded by wet, clenching pussy. Easy, too easy to dig his fingers bruisingly into the giving ectoflesh of Red’s hips, lifting him to make the angle that much deeper. His rhythm was shitty and desperate, no finesse left to him. Sans could only drive in as hard as he could, his hips slapping against that generous, crimson backside.

Didn't matter, Red was along for the ride, both hands braced against the headboard and wood shavings curling around his razor fingertips as he dug them into the cheap particleboard. The room was a cacophony of conflicting sounds, flesh and bone striking, the bed frame creaking, and both of them breathing like they were about to dodge a blow. The sudden feeling of Red tightening around him in a sweet, constricting ripple made Sans gasp and listening to his choked, desperate cry as Red convulsed and came again was almost as good as coming himself.

Almost.

The air around them was thick with the scent of their sex, sourly spicy and nothing sweeter to soften it. Sans sagged down on top of Red, ignored his grunt as he let him take all of his weight, and breathed it in.

~~*~~

The sky was only graying with dawn when Sans woke up again. The bed was empty next to him, only the stained blankets and sheets to keep him company. Sans managed to crawl out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, gathering up his wrinkled t-shirt and shorts along the way.

Shitty as this little hotel managed to be, the mildewed shower still had plenty of hot water and Sans basked in it, scrubbing away the night before with the sliver of complimentary soap.

The cab ride would only take fifteen or so, but he still wouldn’t have time to get changed when he got back to the hotel where the ambassadors were staying. Paps would scold him for wearing the same thing as yesterday, loudly and with vigor, and groan at whatever puns Sans offered before slyly offering back one of his own.

But he wouldn’t say anything about Sans being gone all night in front of the others, those questions would only show in his worried glances, and soft, secret questions about whether Sans was being safe.

Damn shame Sans didn’t know the answer.

For now, it didn’t matter. Time to head back and play nice in front of the Ambassadors, and put on some sunglasses so no one could see if he fell asleep. Maybe tonight he could persuade Red out again and they’d give Humpty Dumpty a try or even Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater. Worth a shot.

He hummed as he stepped into his rumpled shorts and slipped on his t-shirt. If he hurried, he’d have time to grab coffee. Maybe this time he’d bring one for Red, too, the way he liked it for once, hot and bitter black.

Maybe. It wouldn’t hurt to be a little kind, just this once.

-finis-

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating:  T

Chapter Summary:   Luka doesn’t miss XY.  That would be stupid.  For @luxyweek prompt “Eye Contact” (with a little bit of style swap peppered in)

Word Count: 2404 | 3/4

XXX

Luka stared deep into XY’s eyes.  Well, the photograph’s eyes, from the back of the CD he held in his hands.  Of course he couldn’t escape the pop star here, in the middle of his favorite music store.  But he hadn’t needed to go directly to the end of the aisle and pick up the Number One album.

Ironic.  He said he couldn’t escape him, yet XY hadn’t crashed the Liberty in a week.  Since the sleepover at Nino’s house.  Had he just gotten his inspiration and left?

He’d kept Luka’s hoodie.  Luka had forgotten to demand it back when XY had woken up and rushed out of the apartment, yelping something about his dad.

“You owe me,” Luka said to the album.  XY’s melody had been beating under Luka’s skin for the last seven days.  “You can’t just take my favorite hoodie and disappear.”

Luka didn’t even have his phone number.  It was a stupid oversight, but he wasn’t used to having his own friends.  If he needed a number, he usually asked Juleka.

Nino said he hadn’t come back, which was strange.  XY always wanted attention; Luka had figured that if he wasn’t trying to leap onto the Liberty, he’d be at the other boy’s apartment.  What had happened to his original song?  Had he given up on it?

Had he actually stolen Nino’s music instead, like Luka had feared?  Was the guilt keeping him away?  Or did he just decide he had better things to do?  

Maybe he’d even left Paris by now.  He’d never mentioned how long he’d be staying.

Luka shook his head.  He didn’t know, and staring at XY’s Number One album wasn’t going to give him any answers.

His eyes glanced down to the price tag.  Not too expensive, but he still wouldn’t pay for it.  XY had probably stolen all those songs.  It would be wrong to give him and Bob Roth money for it.

So when he got home, he cracked open his laptop and pirated the album.

A few of the songs he recognized, probably from supermarket speakers or TV commercials.  Most were unfamiliar though, except in how they mimicked each other.  It was like XY only had one setting: repetitive pop beats.  His tracks barely even had lyrics to differentiate them from each other.  Along the Beach with You had the addition of waves and seagull calls.  Urban Night was so autotuned he could barely make out the words.  Was that even XY’s voice?  It didn’t sound nasally enough.

Luka was just about to give up listening to the album when I Miss You started.  Soft, not as energetic as the other tracks.  He strained to hear the words.

I’m going crazy for you

I’m lost, where can I find you?

You’ve got my heart torn in two

Please, I just miss you

Nothing unique.  Lazy, even; he used “you” in three of the four rhymes.  

Luka hated that it sparked something in him, something that his guitar still hadn’t been able to untangle.

His own music wasn’t helping.  XY’s music wasn’t helping.  Staring at his face wasn’t helping.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he sighed as he strapped his guitar across his back.

Then he crept above deck, rolled out his bike, and pedaled off towards the Grand Paris Hotel.

XXX

XY paced across his hotel room as the song was exporting, the loading bar slowly, slowly filling up.  Why did it take so long?  Making the song had already taken way more time than he expected.  He hadn’t gotten to see Lu in days.  What if Lu forgot all about him?  A few times he’d thought about going back to that dumpster boat, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist bragging about his new song, and it needed to be a surprise.

He told Lu he was gonna make the most cash money music he’d ever heard.  He hoped this track would be good enough.  It probably wasn’t Lu’s style, but Marmalade hadn’t looked like she was his style either, and he liked her.  He’d thrown a couple of her sewing machine noises into the track for good measure.

“Come on, stupid computer,” he muttered.

The door burst open just as he was thumping the monitor.  His arms pinwheeled before he caught himself on the desk.

“Oh, uh, hey Dad.”  He grinned too wide.  “What brings you here?”

“What?  I can’t see what my own son is up to?”  He laughed loudly, making XY cringe.  “I thought you were out with Andre’s girl again.  You’re too young to be holed up in here.”

XY tried not to groan at the mention of Cole.  She’d already tried to break into his room three times today.  He’d pulled up Lu’s hood and hidden under the legs of his synth each time.  Luckily he’d taken it off while pacing, not wanting to sweat too much in it, or else Dad might’ve asked why he was wearing something so ratty looking.

“I’m just trying to catch up on my music, Dad.”  He rolled his eyes.  

“Ha!  Searching for new tracks to steal?  Proactive of you, I like it.  You’re starting to think like a real star.”

XY’s stomach turned as his dad slung an arm around his shoulder.  He shrugged him off.

He almost told him what he was really doing, but the words dried up in his mouth.  Maybe Lu could spout whatever hippie crap came into his head, but XY couldn’t afford to.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered instead.

“Looks like whatever you were downloading finished.  Let’s hear it.”  Dad plopped down into the cushy chair in front of his synth, leaving XY to stand.

“Uh—I dunno, Dad.  It’s not—it’s nothing great, y’know?”

He snorted.  “Look, if you’re gonna steal, you gotta go big or go home.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let’s just hear it.  I’ll tell you what’s worth ripping off.”  He folded his hands on the desk and waited.

XY didn’t let his nervousness show.  He was a star.  He didn’t get stage fright—okay, usually he wasn’t even on the stage, but still.  

Lu wasn’t scared of standing up to Bob Roth.  The least XY could do was play his own music.

He opened the exported audio file and hit play.

Smooth electronic beats came from the speakers.  Bubbly, upbeat, with an undercurrent of bass.  So far it didn’t sound much different from XY’s old music, the kind he’d made before Dad convinced him to steal instead.

Dad’s eyes narrowed, as if he realized this, but he didn’t say anything yet.  Didn’t say anything for the entire song, even when he heard XY’s lyrics.

Please ignore the lyrics please ignore the lyrics—

His face looked like he'd eaten something nasty.  Like pasta.  “You’ve gotta stop stealing songs from girls, son.  The pronouns are all wrong.”

“Uh, oops.  Forgot to change it.”  His heart fell.  Dad knew why his lyrics were like that, but he wouldn’t even say it out loud.  He’d been stupid to let him hear the song, not that he’d had a choice.  He would’ve finished it at Nino’s if the boy didn’t have to do dumb stuff like “go to school” and “do homework.”

“It’ll never be at the top of the charts, but you can use it to fill up space on your next album, I guess.  You always need a few songs no one will actually listen to.”

XY bit his tongue.  “Pshaw, yeah.  That’s exactly what I stole it for.”

“Keep working, but pick a more mainstream beat next time.  And on second thought, just scrap those lyrics.  They’re clearly ameteur work.  Who puts pigeons in a love song?”

Dad clapped him on the shoulder one last time before turning away, leaving XY numb.

You always need a few songs no one will actually listen to.

Just scrap those lyrics.

Clearly ameteur work...

The extraordinary XY did not cry.  But he might have sniffled a little.

“What are you doing here?  Scram!  I told you, we were just kidding about the record deal!”

XY jolted up, dashing for the door.  He peeked past his dad’s looming figure to see— 

“Lu!”  He grinned before he could help himself.

Lu was standing there, holding a flat cardboard box.  His muscles showed beneath the short sleeves of his Jagged Stone t-shirt.  The best part of stealing his hoodie was that XY got to see his arms.  If only it didn’t also show off his number one rival’s merch.

“What?  Xavier-Yves, did you invite this punk—”

“He ordered a pizza.”  Lu wiggled the box. 

XY frowned.  “Huh?  I didn’t—”

Lu’s eyes narrowed.

“Ohhhh, that pizza!  Pshaw, right.”

Dad still glared down at Lu.  “You better not try any funny business.  Or I’ll have my lawyers on you faster than that pizza grease sticks to your hair.”

Lu smiled pleasantly, a dangerous (and sexy) gleam in his eyes.  “Of course not.  I’m just trying to do my job, sir.”

Dang, he was smart.  And brave.  And hot.

XY tried very hard not to swoon.

“I’ve got to—uh—money!  Cash money.  I owe you.  For the pizza.”

“Well go grab it so this little snake can get out of here,” Dad said with a dismissive wave.

“Lu—uh, he can come in for a minute, right?  It would be pretty unsexy of us to leave him out in the cold.”

“We’re in a hotel, and he’s not some street orphan.”  Dad scrunched his nose.  “Even if he smells like one.”

XY thought Luka smelled amazing, but he wouldn’t admit it in front of Dad.  “Huh?  I can’t hear you, I’m busy thinking about how I’m gonna cheat him out of a tip.”

That made Dad laugh.  “Classic Xavier.  Ruthless instincts, but not that bright.”

With that, he whistled his way out of the room, leaving XY alone with Lu.  

His heart sped up.  Lu was in his room.  Even if he was just there because XY had ordered a pizza.

Wait.  He hadn’t ordered a pizza.

“Did your dad just—did he really just say that?  That was just… wrong.”  Lu glared at the space where Dad had been standing.

“Awww, you care?”  XY asked, leaning into his space.  He smelled like wood and water, probably from spending so much time on that garbage boat.  Or maybe it was just his cologne, but the first option sounded more romantic.

“No,” he snapped.  Huh, he looked a lot more tense now than he’d been even with Dad.

“What’s up, bro?  Marmalade break your heart again?”  he asked hopefully.  

Lu blinked.  He had gorgeous eyes, but he could really use some mascara.  Or at least eyeliner.  XY thought rockers were supposed to be into that kind of stuff.

“Also no.  I just… shut up and give me your phone.”

“Huh?”  His head tilted, but he dug his phone out of his pocket.

Lu grabbed it out of his palm before realizing it was locked.  He sighed.  “Will you open it?  Please?”

“Sure, ’cause you asked nicely.”  XY grinned and swiped his thumb in the “XY” pattern, then tossed it back.  Where this was going?  Was Lu going to take a selfie and set it as his home screen?  That would save XY the trouble of sneaking a photo himself.

Lu set the phone on top of the pizza box, typed furiously for a few seconds, and handed it back.  

XY blinked down at the screen.  Ohhhh, this was even better!  

“You know if you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask.”  XY pursed his lips, but resisted kissing Lu’s cheek again.

“I had no idea what happened to you.  You might’ve left Paris, or… something.”  He crossed his arms.

“So you did miss me.”  His heart raced, though he kept his cool.  He was XY, and Lu was just… the cutest boy he’d ever met.  Who’d missed him.

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t take Nino’s music and run after all.”

“Pshaw, like I need his beats.  I told you I was gonna make cash money music by myself this time.”  XY rolled his eyes.  He thought Lu believed in him.  

Not that he should.  His music wasn’t good.  Dad didn’t think so, anyway.

“Did you finish it?”  Lu’s eyes widened.  “The song you were making at Nino’s?”

His eyes darted towards his synth and computer.  “Uh… nah, man.  I’ve just been… y’know, kickin’ back.  I can’t stay in your unsexy garbage heap all the time.”

“Just… kickin’ back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Lying to Lu felt wrong.  Not like lying to his dad, or even to the paparazzi.  But he wasn’t about to admit that his song had crashed and burned.

And he’d really thought he understood perspiration this time, too.

“I guess I just thought you liked kickin’ back with me,” Lu murmured.

XY’s gut twisted, like he’d eaten a bad plate of mac ’n’ cheese.  “Pshaw, as if.  I was just getting away from Cole, remember?  You were the one who dragged me everywhere.  I didn’t even need your dumb inspiration.  I’m the extraordinary XY.”

He flashed his trademarked hand sign, but really he wanted to slap himself.  Even if it felt wrong, he was good at lying.  Too good.

Hurt flashed across Lu’s face for just a moment.  Then it was gone, and he was shoving the pizza box into XY’s hands.

“Thanks for getting us on the same page.”

Crap, crap, crap.  He wasn’t supposed to make Luka mad.  

“Wait, bruh,” XY called out as Luka stepped out of the room.  “I still didn’t pay you for the pizza!”

Luka rolled his eyes.  “What, you’re not going to cheat me out of that, too?”

XY chewed his lip and looked down at his feet.  He’d never been so embarrassed about cheating before.

“Forget it.  I don’t need money you made by ripping people off, anyway.”

And then Luka was gone, leaving XY with a warm pizza in his arms.  He opened the box, but the smell of fresh cheese just made him nauseous.  The last time he’d eaten a cheese pizza was with him.

Luka was the first person to believe in him, and he’d let him down.  He guessed he shouldn’t be surprised.  It was Luka’s own fault for expecting something more.

He left the pizza by his synth, where it slowly grew cold.

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I'm planning a trip to PIT soon, is there a not so you can rexpensive hotelecommend (or that I should stay away from?) Also always open to recs on what to do / see in general. Thank you :)

[insert gif of deer taking off it’s hooves to wiggles it’s fingers here] 

Under the cut because jesus can I talk about Pittsburgh. 

Depending on the time of the year that you go, hotel prices will fluctuate. I’ve stayed at the Cambria- literally right next door to the arena, and the Doubletree– right down the road from the arena and they’ve been affordable, the Cambria a bit more so. But when we went in mid-October the prices for both places and the hotels around it were literally through the roof just because it was near the start of the season. When I looked ahead a few weeks prices seemed to bottom out to something more reasonable. This time around we stayed at the Hampton Inn & Suites at the start of the Strip District. It’s a little bit further from the arena but still completely walkable and a little bit closer to some other restaurants and of course, the Strip District itself. Idk if you’re driving/renting a car but it’s also the only hotel in downtown with free parking. Huge plus for me. All 3 places were very nice and clean. Zero problems with any of them but the Cambria is the only one of the three with a fridge in the rooms. I find myself longing for cold drinks when I get back to the room at the end of the night and walking down to the ice machine to grab six ice cubes to fill my water bottle isn’t always fun. 

So for breakfast– I’ve never eaten breakfast in the hotel but I’m sure they’re all fine. I’m 99% sure it’s included in your stay at all 3. Personally I like to go out and explore for all my meals. I can recommend DeLuca’s, Pamela’s and Kelly’Os in the Strip. DeLuca’s and Pamela’s get very busy on weekends so get there fairly early if you don’t wanna wait. Also take advantage of sitting at the counter. Sometimes there’s an open spot there. Both those places are cash only. Meals are very filling so if you want to have a big lunch somewhere– literally every meal I’ve had in Pittsburgh is big– and you don’t want to fill up on breakfast go to Colangelo’s in the Strip and pick up a pastry or go to Prantl’s in Market Square and get a burnt almond torte bar. It’ll be the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Trust me. Right now I’m just counting down the days until I can eat another. For coffee/tea- Allegheny Tea & Coffee Exchange. Yummy lattes and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t like coffee. Cheaper than Starbucks too although there are plenty of those around the city too. 

For lunch/dinner go to Primanti Bros. Multiple locations but the one in the Strip District is open 24/7. Sure, it’s maybe not the best sandwich you’ve ever eaten but the vibe is good and you just gotta go at least once. Can also recommend S&D Polish Deli, Bakersfield, Condado, Nicky’s Thai Kitchen.

As far as things to see/do, there’s literally so much. Def go on the incline, either one or both. 5 dollars round trip cash–and exact cash–only. Go during the day, go again during the night. Check out Love, Pittsburgh. Cute little shop with locations downtown and in Mt. Washington. Everything is made by locally and the woman that was working when we stopped in was super nice and didn’t even make fun of me when I asked her what ‘nebby’ meant. There’s Steel City Clothing, of course. Super nice staff and high quality t-shirts. Def check out the Carnegie Museums. Something around 20 bucks gets you into the Natural History Museum (dinosaurs!) and the Art museum (art!). The Heinz History Center is really interesting, with exhibits dedicated to the Penguins and Mr. Rogers and Heinz Ketchup and a whole bunch of other things. The Botanical Gardens is cool and checking out the Cathedral of Learning is fun and free! Just walk on in and poke around. The inside looks like Hogwarts and all the rooms are themed in different countries/cultures. There’s also a pretty good view from the top. On the North Shore there’s the Mattress Factory, The Andy Worhol Museum and the Aviary. There’s also Randyland which is fun and Free! The Science Center is worth it. There’s a submarine in the river you can go in that’s included with general admission or you can check out the mummy exhibit that’s there until April. The Mr. Rogers statue is over there as well. The fountain will probably be off while you’re there–we went around this time a year ago and you could tell the pressure was starting to lower but the Point is still worth seeing. Really good views of the city and the rivers. The Fort Pitt museum is there as well. If you go to the History Center I believe your receipt will get you in free the following day–at least that’s what the guy told us when we went. If not it’s only 8 bucks. A lot of really cool info about Pittsburgh’s early, early, early days. If you’re really lucky you’ll get the volunteer tour guide we got who has lived in Pittsburgh all her life and clearly loves the city. She knew everything and made fun of me for being a Patriots fan. 15/10 love her and think about her lots. Also walk across a bridge, any gold bridge has a foot path which I learned from that awesome tour guide– just to say that you did. 

Pittsburgh is lovely and fun and safe. I don’t know if you’re going alone or not but I’ve walked AROUND that city by myself day and night and never felt unsafe. You’re gonna have a blast no matter what you decide to do. 

Go Pens. 

[livingbestlagom-blog]

7 Essential Luxuries That Will Elevate Your Everyday Routines

The concept of an essential luxury may seem like an oxymoron, but enjoying quality and comfort shouldn’t be considered self-indulgent. When it comes to items that are daily fixtures in your life, investing in finer pieces allows you to take pleasure in ordinary activities. Whether it is fancy pajamas or a well-lit mirror, there’s no reason you shouldn’t delight, or even indulge, in your most-love pieces.  

A Pair of Fancy (Washable) Pajamas

There’s nothing wrong with jumping into bed wearing an old tee and a pair of boxers, but there’s something luxurious about a matching pajama set. Not only does it feel super posh, but it signals to your brain that you’re ready to relax. Silk is nice, but regularly dry cleaning sleepwear is pretty unrealistic, so opt for a machine washable pair like this set from Natori.

A Good Hair Brush

A quality hair brush may seem superfluous, but it has major benefits. Cheap brushes can damage hair follicles or even make clean hair look dirty from built-up product. A Mason Pearson brush may seem extra at first, but it cleans hair and stimulates the scalp which leaves hair looking and feeling healthy. It’s also designed to last for years with proper maintenance, which helps make it worth the price tag.

A Simple Black Leather Crossbody

A black crossbody bag is easily one of the most versatile accessories in any wardrobe. But it doesn’t have to be embellished with a designer label for it to be classic and functional. A simple, compact leather crossbody (sans any logos) is an everyday and everynight staple.

A Set of Hotel-Worthy Bed Sheets

You know that feeling of waking in a hotel, refreshed and relaxed? A set of high-quality bed sheets can help you capture that feeling and experience it each day, while thread count is important; the type of tread is what makes bed sheets durable and comfortable. These Percale Sheets from Snowe are lightweight, smooth, and will have you wishing you could order room service.

An Illuminated Makeup Mirror

Many people don’t realize they’ve been in the dark (literally) until they invest in a well-lit makeup mirror. Lighted mirrors eliminate shadows and allow for flawless makeup application with minimal eye strain. It’s a little luxury that will make a big different in your beauty routine.  

A Classic Black Leather Jacket

A leather jacket is universal because that everyone can pull it off and it will never go out of style. It’s a transitional layering piece that you can wear on repeat each season, year after year. It may take a bit of hunting to find the fit and wash that works best for you, but it’s an investment you won’t regret.

A Versatile Wallet

A sleek, well-made wallet should be easy to transfer from your tote to a small clutch. This zip-around option is compact but still has card slots, a pouch for change, and a slip pocket that allows you to keep your cash flat and organized.

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