#i still have hotel and balcony filtered

[rainbowbeanstyles]

im not handling it well folks

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.5 | FC43

an: i read this outloud to @diycriptheory and she said this sounded exactly like a lesbian's worst nightmare. so enjoy xx

part one | part two | part three | part four |

francolapinto’s story

[descanso y relajación]

The evening sun filtered through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow that did little to calm the knot tightening in your stomach. You glanced at the clock on the wall—it was almost time. Franco would be here soon.

You’d changed your outfit three times already, and even now, standing in front of the mirror, you weren't not sure if this was the right one. You smoothed your hands over your dress, biting your lip as you tried to steady your breathing. Why were you so nervous? It was just a date. A date with Franco.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter in your room. Oscar and Logan had been hanging out, oblivious to your mounting anxiety. You stepped into the living room where they were lounging on the couch, both of them looking far too relaxed for your liking.

Oscar looked up at you and grinned. “You look… weirdly fancy.”

“Thanks,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just the boost of confidence I needed.”

Logan chuckled. “Nervous much?”

Folding your arms, sitting on the edge of the desk, you raised a brow. “Is it that obvious?”

Oscar shrugged, grabbing a handful of chips from the bowl between them. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a date.”

You shot him a look. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one going on a date with a guy you’ve been pretending to hate for months.”

“Pretending?” Oscar teased, looking at you with an incredulous look.

“Okay, maybe not pretending,” you admit, “but I’ve definitely been giving him a hard time.”

Logan leant forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Come on, you’ll be fine. He likes you, obviously. And you’ve stopped hating him—right?”

You groan, sinking into the armchair beside the desk, across from them. “Yeah, I’ve stopped hating him. That doesn’t make this any less nerve-wracking. What if it’s awkward? What if I say something stupid?”

Tossing a chip at you, Oscar laughed. “You always say something stupid. He probably expects it by now.”

Grabbing the chip from where it landed on your lap, you threw it back at him, grumbling when he caught it in his mouth. “Not helping!”

Logan chirmed in again, more seriously this time. “Look, he’s probably just as nervous as you are. You guys have been in this weird back-and-forth for so long—tonight’s a chance to just… let it go. Be yourself.”

Oscar nodded, being serious for once and looking like he was giving this some thought. “Yeah, and if it goes bad, you can always blame me for getting you into this mess in the first place.”

“Or, blame me!” Logan added. “After all, he replaced me didn’t he?”

Laughing at Logan’s comment you went back to fiddling with your hands in your lap. “Yeah.”

There was a knock at the door, and for a second your heart skipped a beat. Taking a look at Oscar and Logan, you ignored the look on their faces, as though they were waiting for this all day.

“Good luck,” Logan said, winking.

Standing up and smoothing your dress again, you headed toward the door. Your palms sweaty, your heart racing, nerves clouding your mind —a sense that this night could change everything.

With one last deep breath, you opened the door, and there Franco was, standing in the hallway, looking just as handsome as ever. His eyes swept over you, and the smile he gave you made your stomach flip.

“Buenas tardes hermosa (good evening, beautiful),” he said, his voice soft but confident.

You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks as you stepped out, closing the door behind you. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

ynpiastri's story

[who likes my chat noir cosplay? 😴]

The soft murmur of the ocean is the only sound as you stepped out onto the balcony while Franco got some more drinks, the warm breeze brushing against your skin. The night was still, the air heavy with the scent of saltwater, and the faint glow of the stars above barely lit the secluded space. The dim ambiance makes everything feel more intimate, more charged.

You felt him before you saw him—his presence behind you was unmistakable. He stepped out, his footsteps soft on the stone floor, but when his gaze locked on yours, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you. He leant casually against the railing, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes were trailing over you.

“Nice view,” he said, voice low, thick with a tension that sent a thrill down your spine. There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you knew it.

You nodded, barely able to respond as your pulse quickened. “Yeah. It is.”

His eyes never left yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The air between you felt thick, crackling with an unspoken anticipation. He pushed off the railing, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps, his confidence evident in every movement.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment all night, hermosa” he murmured , his voice soft but heavy with meaning. He was standing close now, so close that the warmth of his body radiated toward you, and you could feel every breath you took deep in your chest.

Your throat tightened, and you glanced away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the intensity in his gaze. But he stepped even closer, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, and the simple touch sent shivers through you. Your skin tingling where his hand touched, and your heart racing faster.

“How’s it going so far?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Better than I imagined,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk, but his eyes were serious, dark with desire. His hand moved up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your bare skin with a tenderness that belied the hunger in his gaze.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought about stepping back, about trying to get control over the situation. But something held you there, keeping you rooted in place as he stepped even closer, his chest almost brushing against yours. The tension between you was electric, and you feel it in every inch of your body.

“I didn’t think you’d actually ask me,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. He was so close now that you could feel the heat from his breath against your skin.

“I didn’t think I would either,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was on edge, waiting, anticipating.

His hand slid to your waist, fingers firm but gentle, pulling you just a fraction closer. You were close enough now that you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, something dark and intoxicating. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, and you could barely think straight with how close he was.

“I’ve been waiting for you to look at me like this,” he said softly, his lips just inches from yours. His eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second, and when they met yours again, they were filled with an intensity that made your knees feel weak.

“Like what?” you managed to ask, your voice barely audible, your pulse racing so fast it felt like your heart might burst out of your chest.

“Like you want this as much as I do.”

Before you could even respond, he closed the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hot, fierce, and filled with a passion that you hadn’t expected. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your whole body ignite.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his kiss overwhelmed you. The softness of his lips contrasted with the raw hunger in his movements, and you found yourself melting into him, your body pressing against his like you couldn’t get close enough.

His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head, giving him better access to your mouth. The kiss grew hotter, more intense, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, making you dizzy with want. His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, and you felt like you were drowning in him, in the taste of him, in the way his hands roamed your body like he was memorising every inch of you.

Your fingers slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss became more desperate, more frantic. Every touch, every movement felt like it was setting your skin on fire, and you couldn't get enough of him. His body was solid and warm against yours, and the feel of him, the smell of him, was intoxicating.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought you may have seen something—a flicker of movement, a flash of light out of the corner of your eye—but you pushed it aside, too lost in the moment, too consumed by the heat of his kiss to care. Nothing else mattered right now except for him, here, with you.

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he pulled you impossibly closer, his mouth never leaving yours. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly against you, his breathing just as ragged as yours. The kiss was searing now, filled with a desire that neither of you were holding back anymore.

When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered near yours, his forehead pressed against yours as you both caught your breath. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, his gaze filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, mi amor” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with certainty.

You smiled, your breathing still heavy, and as you looked into his eyes, you knew then and there that you wanted this just as much as he did. And that the two of you were far too gone to care about anything else.

twitter

imessage between franco and yn

the end.

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[mendesblurb]

We were staying in Paris

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: mostly fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Word count:~500

A/N: The story idea and concept are classic and predictable; your girl just couldn’t help but write something inspired by this picture. Also, it’s three weeks late; better late than never? And this is my first story in 2024? 🙈 P.S. Should I write a longer and maybe some more steamy story with this picture? 🤪

——//

In the heart of Paris, in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city that served as the backdrop for a love story as it was unfolding in the early hours of dawn. You lay nestled in the warmth of the bed beside your boyfriend as your fingers intertwined with his. As the first tendrils of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Shawn stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft glow of morning. 

He savoured the moment's stillness a little while before gently extricating himself from the embrace, slipping out of bed, and heading to the bathroom. The cool floor beneath his bare feet offers a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed. He was going to return to bed, but instead, he made his way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of a tranquil morning amidst the bustling city below.

As he leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view before him, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the Parisian skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and majestic in the distance, a precious sight. Lost in thought, he reached for a cigarette, the flame casting a flickering glow on his face as he took a contemplative drag.

Unbeknownst to him, you had stirred awake in his absence, your gaze lingering on the spot where he had once laid.

There you were, quietly making your way to the balcony, and you found him lost in reverie with the smoke curling around him like a halo in the morning light. With a soft throat clearing, you announced your presence, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"Good morning, stranger," You greeted, voice laced with amusement as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

A little startled, he turned to find you standing before him, a radiant smile lighting up her features as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, ma chÃrie," He greeted back before discarding his cigarette and nestling closer. It didn’t take long for his eyes to linger around you, and eventually falling upon the shirt you were wearing, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his gaze, “I believe that’s my shirt.” 

"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind," You began, fingers tracing the fabric of the shirt, "I may have borrowed this from you,” You continued slyly as your lips curled into a grin as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, the fabric draping over your frame in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

"Shirt stealer," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Moments later, as the sun continued its ascent, casting a golden glow over the city, you both remained on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the beauty of the Parisian sunrise. 

"By the way, I'm never returning this shirt,” You added, breaking the silence with a mischievous grin. 

In response, Shawn just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Thank you for letting me know," he replied, pulling  you closer than before, “But It looks better on you anyway."

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongformendes @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohofmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy @chocochipcookie305 @shiningshawns

Story Code:05042409

[mybelovedwoo]

ups and downs

san x f!reader

fluff, suggestive, smut/ wc: 2.6k

warnings: suggestive content!! sex scenes, kissing, injury

note: i was really afraid of writing this! san's just such a good boyfriend, takes such good care of his gf i want what they have TT . if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

san masterlist - main masterlist

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Y/n stirred, stretching lazily as she woke up. She turned to find San watching her, a soft smile on his face.

"Good morning, beautiful," San whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

"Good morning," Y/n replied, her voice still groggy from sleep. "What's with the smile?"

San's grin widened. "Pack your bags. We're going to Jeju Island for the weekend."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Are you serious?"

San nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I've got everything planned. It's going to be amazing."

They spent the morning packing their bags and then headed to the airport. The flight to Jeju was short but filled with anticipation. San held Y/n's hand the entire time, occasionally squeezing it and giving her reassuring smiles.

As they landed on the island, Y/n marveled at the beauty of Jeju. The clear blue skies, lush greenery, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her with a sense of adventure and tranquility.

They picked up a rental car and headed to their hotel, a charming seaside resort with a stunning view of the ocean. Their room was spacious and beautifully decorated, with a balcony overlooking the beach.

"Wow, San, this is perfect," Y/n said, looking out at the view.

San wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'm glad you like it. We've got a lot planned for this weekend."

Their first day was filled with exploration. They visited the famous Seongsan Ilchulbong, also known as Sunrise Peak. The hike to the top was challenging, but the view was worth every step. 

"Ready for this?" San asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/n nodded, determination set on her face. "Absolutely. Let's do this."

They began their ascent, the path winding through lush greenery and rocky terrain. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of wildflowers and the distant sound of birds chirping. As they climbed higher, the views became more breathtaking, the ocean stretching out endlessly below them.

San held Y/n's hand, helping her over particularly steep sections. "You've got this," he encouraged, his voice steady and supportive. Y/n smiled, grateful for his presence.

They paused occasionally to catch their breath and take in the scenery. At one point, they found a small clearing with a bench overlooking the ocean. They sat down, enjoying the cool breeze and the stunning view.

"This is amazing," Y/n said, her eyes wide with wonder.

San nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It really is. I'm so glad we're doing this together."

After a brief rest, they continued their climb, the path growing steeper and more challenging. Their legs ached, and their breaths came in short gasps, but they pushed on, driven by the promise of the view at the top. San was a few steps ahead, offering encouragement and helping Y/n over particularly tricky sections.

Just as they approached a narrow, rocky part of the path, Y/n's foot slipped on a loose rock. She lost her balance and fell, scraping her knee and landing hard on her side. The sudden fall left her gasping in pain and shock.

"Y/n!" San exclaimed, quickly turning and rushing to her side. His heart pounded with fear as he knelt beside her, his hands gently touching her shoulders. "Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

Y/n winced, sitting up slowly and examining her knee. "I... I scraped my knee pretty badly," she said, her voice shaky. "But I think everything else is okay."

San's eyes scanned her injury, relief flooding him when he saw that her ankle was uninjured. Her knee, however, was scraped and bleeding. He could see the pain in her eyes, and his heart ached for her.

"Stay still," he said softly, his voice steady despite the panic he felt. "Let me take a look."

He carefully examined her knee, his touch gentle yet firm. Y/n watched him, her eyes glistening with tears of pain and frustration. "I'm sorry, San. I didn't mean to ruin our hike."

San looked up at her, his expression tender. "Hey, don't say that. It's not your fault. Accidents happen." He gave her a reassuring smile. "We're going to get you down safely, okay?"

Y/n nodded, trusting him completely. San took a deep breath and gently helped her to her feet, supporting her as she tested her weight on her legs. "Lean on me," he instructed. "We'll take it slow."

The descent was slower than before, each step taken with care to avoid aggravating Y/n's injury. San kept his arm around her, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of her pain. They stopped frequently to rest, San checking her knee to make sure it wasn't getting worse.

With patience and care, they finally made it back to the base. San led Y/n to a bench, helping her sit down. "I'm going to get some ice for your knee and clean up the scrape. Stay here, okay?"

Y/n nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She watched as San hurried to a nearby visitor center, returning quickly with a first aid kit and a bag of ice.

"Here," he said gently, kneeling in front of her. He cleaned the scrape on her knee, his touch tender and precise. Then he carefully wrapped the ice pack around her knee to help with the swelling. "This should help."

Y/n smiled through her discomfort, grateful for his care. "Thank you, San. You're always taking care of me."

San looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of love and concern. "I always will, Y/n. You're too important to me."

They sat there for a while, the sun setting behind them, casting a golden glow over the landscape. Despite the mishap, the beauty of the moment wasn't lost on them. San held Y/n's hand, their connection stronger than ever.

As the last light of the sun disappeared, San helped Y/n to their car. "Let's get you back to the hotel," he said. "We'll take it easy tonight, and tomorrow we'll find something less strenuous to do."

Y/n nodded, leaning on him for support. "That sounds perfect."

They made their way back to the hotel, where San helped Y/n to their room. Despite the tiring day and the incident, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a connection that seemed to grow stronger with each moment they spent together.

As they entered their room, San helped Y/n to sit on the bed. "Let's get ready for dinner," he said, glancing at the clock. "We have reservations in an hour. Do you think you'll be okay to go?"

Y/n nodded, smiling warmly. "I think I'll manage. Thank you, San, for everything today."

San brushed her hair back gently. "You don't have to thank me, Y/n. I just want you to be happy and safe."

As San turned to get ready, Y/n's gratitude and love for him overwhelmed her. She stood up, ignoring the slight pain in her knee, and moved closer to him. "San," she called softly.

He turned around, surprised to see her standing so close. "Y/n, you should be resting."

Before he could say more, Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It started as a gentle, grateful kiss, but soon it deepened, fueled by the day's emotions and the intensity of their bond.

San hesitated for a moment, concerned about her knee, but the warmth of her lips and the urgency in her touch dispelled his worries. He kissed her back, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her closer.

"Y/n," he whispered between kisses, "we should get ready for dinner."

"I know," she murmured against his lips, "but I can't help it. I want you to know how much you mean to me."

San's heart raced as her words sank in. He gently guided her back to the bed, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her. "I know, Y/n. I feel the same way." He kissed her again, his hands caressing her face and sliding down to her shoulders.

Y/n's hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength and warmth of him. The heat between them grew, and they both knew where this was heading. San's hands moved to her waist, San lifted her gently, being mindful of her injured knee, and laid her down on the bed. He climbed in beside her, their bodies fitting together perfectly. The kisses grew more passionate, hands exploring and clothes slowly coming off.

San's touches were gentle and deliberate, making sure Y/n was comfortable and enjoying every moment. He worshipped her with his hands and lips, eliciting soft moans and whispers from her.

San pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. "Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" he whispered, his voice a soothing balm.

Y/n nodded, her trust in him unwavering. "I will," she promised, her voice breathless with anticipation.

With a soft smile, San continued, his hands moving to remove the last barriers between them. He kissed her slowly, deeply, his lips a gentle pressure against hers. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as if memorizing her by touch alone. Each kiss, each caress was a testament to his love and reverence for her.

San's dominant side began to emerge, but it was tempered by his unwavering respect and care. He gently guided her hands above her head, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Keep them here," he murmured against her lips, his tone firm yet loving.

Y/n shivered at his words, her body responding to his command. She felt a thrill of excitement course through her, knowing she was safe and cherished in his hands.

San's lips traveled down her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He paused at her collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. His hands slid down her sides, teasing and exploring, until they reached her hips. He shifted, positioning himself between her legs, his eyes never leaving hers.

He took his time, savoring every moment, every reaction. His mouth descended, and he began to worship her with his lips and tongue. Y/n's moans filled the room, her back arching off the bed as he skillfully brought her pleasure. San groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her, heightening her senses.

He continued, his focus entirely on her, until she was trembling beneath him. As she reached her peak, he held her hips steady, his movements becoming more intense. Her cries of pleasure echoed around them, and he drank in every sound, every shiver, with a deep sense of satisfaction.

When she finally came down from her high, San moved back up, kissing her tenderly. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and love.

Y/n pulled him closer, her hands finding their way to his hair. "I want you, San," she breathed, her eyes locked onto his.

San's heart raced at her words, but he maintained control, wanting to prolong the moment. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice a gentle command. "I want to take my time with you."

He kissed her again, his hands exploring her body with renewed purpose. He could feel his own desire building, but he held back, wanting to savor every second. His kisses grew more intense, his touch more insistent, as he pushed both of them to the edge of control.

When he finally couldn't hold back any longer, he positioned himself at her entrance, pausing to look into her eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with trust and love. "Yes, San. I'm ready."

With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered her, his breath hitching at the sensation. He started off gently, letting her adjust to the feeling, but as the intensity built, he began to move faster, his control slipping. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his groans and moans mingling with hers.

They moved together, their bodies in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. San's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent, yet he never lost his focus on her pleasure. He leaned down, his mouth near her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You feel so good," he groaned, his voice a rough whisper.

Y/n's hands clutched at his back, her nails digging in slightly as she lost herself in the moment. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, their shared breath and whispered words of love.

As they reached their peak together, the intensity of their connection seemed to explode, leaving them both trembling and breathless. San collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, holding her close as they both came down from the high.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "So much."

Y/n snuggled closer, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "I love you too, San. Always."

After the intensity of their intimate moment subsided, San and Y/n lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of their love. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sounds of their breathing.

San brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, smiling softly. "I think we should get ready for dinner for real this time. You must be starving by now."

Y/n laughed, her stomach growling as if on cue. "Yeah, I guess I am. Let's get dressed."

They reluctantly untangled themselves, both feeling the lingering warmth of their connection. As they dressed, San couldn't help but steal glances at Y/n, his heart swelling with love and pride. She caught his eye and smiled, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Once they were ready, they headed out to the restaurant they had planned to visit. The walk through the bustling streets of Jeju was filled with light chatter and laughter, the earlier tension completely gone. They arrived at a cozy restaurant, its warm lighting and inviting aroma promising a delightful meal.

San held the door open for Y/n, his hand gently resting on her lower back as they entered. The hostess greeted them with a warm smile and led them to a quiet table near the window, where they could enjoy the view of the city lights reflecting on the water.

As they settled into their seats, San reached across the table, taking Y/n's hand in his. "How's your knee feeling?" he asked, concern still evident in his voice.

Y/n smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "It's fine, really. It doesn't even hurt anymore. Now, let's enjoy our dinner."

They perused the menu, deciding to order a variety of dishes to share. The food arrived quickly, and they eagerly dug in, savoring the flavors and enjoying each other's company. The atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the earlier events of the day feeling like a distant memory.

Between bites, they talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing effortlessly. Y/n recounted funny stories from her latest book, and San shared amusing anecdotes from his training days.

As the evening progressed, they found themselves lost in each other, the outside world fading away. The restaurant began to empty out, the waitstaff subtly hinting that it was closing time. They paid the bill and headed back to their hotel, the night air cool and refreshing.

Back in their room, they changed into their pajamas and settled onto the bed, their bodies instinctively finding each other. San wrapped his arms around Y/n, pulling her close, his breath warm against her neck.

"Today was amazing, thank you" Y/n whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. 

San kissed her temple, his heart full. "I'd do anything for you, Y/n. Always."

They lay there in the darkness, the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling them into a peaceful sleep. The day had been filled with ups and downs, but they faced it all together, their love growing stronger with each passing moment.

-

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[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: i know i already said we were going at a slower pace, but, i really meant it - ive got too much other things going and i apologise! part four might take EVEN LONGER ive got a busy month coming up, so we'll see how it goes! thanks for being patient with me &lt;333

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Your breath hitched as your fingers twitched with need of a self-destruct button when you saw him.

Swimming shorts, black. The ones you’d had in your hands two days before. Linen shirt, short sleeves, beige – unbuttoned. It was one of the things you’d tried on. Your friend had said it looked like a pyjama top on you. You were glad to learn it did not look like a pyjama top on him.

Sunglasses. Black, dark, and designer if you were to go by the large metallic logos on the sides.

Hair sort of all over the place, like he hadn’t touched it after rolling out of bed this morning. Book in hand, paperback, folded corners and broken spine. 

If you were honest, it was kind of a vibe. Until you panned down, and...

Loafers.

You hoped that the glare of the sun didn’t turn your sunglasses transparent enough for Joe to notice you weren’t looking at your phone screen when you saw him step out and enter the pool area.

He walked past a couple of sun loungers that had towels on but seemed otherwise fairly abandoned. The pool was empty, the water too cold to casually dip into, so the towels probably belonged to people who dumped them there before breakfast, just to ensure they’d have a space of their own in the sun later.

Well, it was later now, and had there been no empty sun loungers free of towels, you’d have tossed a random one to claim as your own. Like the one right next to you. Just a big white towel from the hotel on an empty sun lounger that seemingly belonged to no one.

You saw Joe get closer and closer until you realised that he seemed to be coming right over to you.

Maybe he’d seen you and was now just there to come and tell you that he needed his jacket back. The one he gave you last night. The one you were meant to return to room 907. The one you still had up in room 1103.

Listen, it had gotten late. And you’d gotten too tipsy.

You also weren’t sure if you’d remembered 907 correctly, and, what if he was asleep already, you know? You decided after having your 6th drink poured into a plastic cup that you’d bring Joe his jacket tomorrow.

Maybe just after breakfast.

But then, you’d slept right through breakfast, hadn’t you?

You’d woken up two hours after falling asleep, and hadn’t been able to slide back into slumber until after you’d watched the sunrise from your balcony through blinking bleary eyes.

You’d only gotten a very quick gulp of water into your system after brushing your teeth, and now here you were, by the pool, living your best holiday-instagram-filtered-story life.

When Joe walked into earshot, you were ready to launch an excuse at him for not having returned his jacket yet. 

But then he bent and sat down on the sun lounger next to you and you realized; that was his towel. One he'd probably laid down just before breakfast to ensure himself a lounger for when he'd want to enjoy some time by the pool side later.

Later was now, apparently.

Joe sat and took off his loafers as he looked over at the pool where the sun made the surface glitter, and then you saw him turn his head to look at you, giving you a polite smile.

“I was going to bring it over last night,” you blurted out as you sat up a little, “I promise, room 907, I didn’t forget. It was just, it got a bit late, and I didn’t want to maybe wake you– I’ll give it back today,” God, the nervosity practically dripped from the words you squeaked out. 

Joe just smiled, which only made it worse.

“I... I’ll go get it right now, sorry,” you swung your legs to the side but stopped when you heard Joe laugh. 

“That’s okay, no worries,” he quickly said, stopping your feet from finding your flip flops.

“I wasn’t going to keep it,” you reassured.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Okay, good.

“None of my other things have gone missing, so you’re fine,” Joe scrunched his nose and made a face before he got comfy with his book in his lap.

You thought back to that first night with his suitcase. He was sort of right. You could’ve easily kept something - probably would have if you’d listened to your friend who kept telling you, “That looks great on you, fucking keep it,” over and over.

“About that...” you heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself.

“Can I, just, do you want my unsolicited opinion on something?”

Joe found the page in his book he’d left off on and used fingers to bend the spine a bit further. He didn’t really reply, which you took as an invitation to just drop what had been on your mind without holding back.

“Just, I don’t understand, you seem–” you thought your choice of words over just for a second. “You sort of seem like you know what you’re doing. Man on a business trip, expensive clothing, all tailored I’m guessing, and then there’s– I’m sorry, but why would you use two-in-one shampoo?” 

Joe blinked at you a second.

“And not only use it, but bring it?!” 

It took Joe a second to figure out how to react to your animated question. You seemed genuinely grossed out and properly confused. 

Man on a business trip.

That tickled him.

“You um... you went through my toiletries?” Joe asked, eyes back in his book, hoping that maybe the question would get you to blush again like you’d blushed when you’d met at the airport the day before. 

“I went through everything, and you fucking know it,” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself now. “Please tell me that bottle has been in your that bag since the nineties and you don’t actually use it still,” 

Joe snorted, head bobbing a little. 

“I mean,” he started, “It’s how long I’ve had the bag, so that’s not as implausible as you’d think,” 

“Yea, it looks it, Joe” you jabbed, grinning, and that’s when Joe realised. 

The fucking toiletries bag.

The one he’d had since he was eight.

The one his mother had written his name on with black sharpie so he wouldn’t lose it. 

JOE

He could picture it clear as day.

You knew his name because you’d read it on his toiletries bag.

You didn’t know who he was. 

His mother’s handwriting had revealed his name to you, and you didn’t fully understand the wistful little smile that overtook his face for a moment as he frowned at his book a little.

This new knowledge shifted something for him. He could dissect the relief of it all later, if he wanted to. Now, it just made him want to entertain this interaction further.

So he did.

Asked you if he was correct at having missed you at breakfast. Told you he wasn't actually on a business trip, but just there for a short break from the hustle and bustle of the city, of work.

You told him you were there for the same reason, and you swapped similar stories of busy jobs and hectic schedules, of tensed shoulders and worried supervisors who pressured you into trips to the sun, and now, here you were. By the poolside of a nice hotel where they served nice drinks and, would you like a drink? What did you have last night?

“Stop, if anyone needs to get anyone a drink here, it’s me. As a thank you for the jacket and not having me, you know, arrested.”

You got up, were about to wave your card in Joe’s face but found yourself plonking back down onto the lounger.

Weird.

You didn’t feel dizzy at all, but somehow your balance felt off. You went to test it by giving your head a little shake, and then suddenly, the world moved sideways. Gravity pulled at you from the side, making you lean there a little, and then, a lot.

There was lounger where you landed, shoulder first, but there wasn’t enough lounger. After bouncing once, you felt yourself slide.

It somehow felt fine, didn’t make you panic at all, your brain already making sense of it but in all the wrong ways. You didn’t feel so heavy, head all light, and so the thud to the floor wasn’t so bad. It was almost like you floated down there, but then, with your cheek pressed against the warm concrete, everything unexpectedly moved upwards with a rough jerk. Smacked you right in the face and the rest of your body sort of slumped down, hurting your cheekbone and what you thought was your brow bone as your full weight seemed shoved into them.

It hurt.

Not in the same way the cold water of the pool hurt the bones of your feet when you'd sat on the edge of it earlier – this felt worse. Cutting.

Your face was pushed into the ground by your own weight until out of the blue, the concrete moved away from you, and you floated back up. Back the right side up.

There were hands and they pulled, and it hurt your arm, your elbow, your shoulder.

“Did you faint? What the– did you faint? No, you– hang on,”

Hands clambered at you until you were back on soft familiar surface, but everything felt a little sticky. And somehow you were fucking freezing.

“Joe?”

You felt your vocal cords say it, you knew you just said something, but you didn’t hear them. Was your voice not working? Or was it your hearing that had gone?

“You fainted,”

“It’s fine, I don’t– what’s happening, what is…”

“Fucking hell, lay down a second. Legs up too, just, I want you flat– be flat,”

You didn’t move quick enough for Joe’s liking, which Joe realized, of course you fucking didn’t. You just smashed yourself face first into the concrete and your eyebrow was bleeding now. In an attempt to gracefully get your legs up onto the lounger too, Joe nearly flung you off of the whole thing on the other side. Managed to grab you by the side just before you swung too far.

“Hands, hands,” Joe just grabbed them. “Give me your hands.” He was already holding them. “Here, hold the sides for me. I need to move you into the shade.”

And then the whole world moved. A tree came into view as the lounger you were on got dragged across grass. It disoriented you into a dizzy spin that made you forget which way was up for a second, even though you were staring right at up.

In no time, two guys who wore polo shirts with hotel-logo-nametags hovered over you and a lady from three sun loungers over stepped in to tell them to get a first aid kit. Something to clean that gash with. To make the bleeding stop.  

Joe stepped back and let her mother you for a second, told one of the guys who worked at the hotel that you’d gotten up from the sun lounger and then just… fell.  

The lady asked if you’d eaten, and you tried to convince her you were fine and that all of the fuss was a bit much, but then you had to confess that you hadn’t actually eaten and you’d also not slept very well the night before, and the night before that, and, you actually hadn't slept normal in ages, and your shoulders hurt, lower back too, and you’d drank a lot the night before, and, Jesus Christ, you were so fucking cold.  

“Someone get her something to drink, she needs sugar,” 

“And a sandwich maybe? Something to eat?” Joe added, making the other man scurry off.  

There was a moment where the lady and Joe looked at each other and then both looked back at you and you felt so stupidly embarrassed.

“Can I– I want to go back to my room,”  

So you could fester in your own embarrassment by yourself in peace and quiet. Without people staring down at you, and no doubt from all around the pool too with all the commotion that was made.  

“They’re getting you a drink and some food, and you need your eyebrow looked at,” the lady smiled politely at you, using a finger to wipe some of your hair away from getting stuck in the blood there. 

You moved a hand up to touch it, to feel how bad it was, but saw Joe reach an arm out that he quickly snapped away when you halted. You moved it to your mouth instead, to bite at the thumb nail to stop your teeth from chattering.  

You were outside and people were barely wearing any clothes and seemed fine – why were you still freezing?  

“Are you cold?” the woman asked, already looking around for a towel to drape over you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, and heard Joe huff a laugh. Obviously, you weren’t.  

“Here,” he said, and you saw how he handed over the white hotel towel from his sun lounger. It got carefully placed over your shoulders, and it helped a little, but you just wanted to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the warm covers and sleep this off.  

The first aid kit arrived, and this random hotel guest in a bathing suit took it from the guy who’d brought it over. She took over completely, cleaned your face with disinfectant and asked for Joe to help her cut a piece of tape to bandage it up. You saw his fingers fumble, shaking a little bit, like he seemed nervous.  

A plated club sandwich and a can of coke arrived. After plenty of “How are you feeling?” and you repeating that you were fine over and over and over in between sips and bites, you were finally asked which room you were staying in, and if you were there with someone.  

You hesitated to answer, afraid that if you said you were alone, they wouldn’t just let you go back to your room. They should, of course they should just let you do whatever, but there were three strangers doting over you all worriedly, and then also a fourth one who, even though you'd gone through everything he brought on this trip, was still technically a stranger too.  

“It’s okay,” Joe then said. “I’ll take her up to her room.”  

And before you could complain about it, he’d slung his towel around his neck, had taken the glass and the plate, then bent sideways and stuck an elbow out for you to loop an arm through.  

It was a little weird to walk into the hotel with Joe. To get into the lifts with Joe. To step into your room with Joe. 

It was a little weirder to say you were going to shower and that you were fine, thank you.  

It was a little weirder when Joe didn’t just accept that and looked at you with worried eyes before he asked if you could shower with the door open, and if he could sit just outside in case the hot water did silly things to your blood pressure. What if you dropped in the shower and no one would be there to stop you from drowning?  

“Drown? It’s a shower.” 

“Place could flood.” Joe shrugged. 

It was weird when you looked at each other a second and you realised he wasn’t going to leave. Wasn’t going to let you shower with the door shut and locked, and so, fine. 

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of your hotel room, plate and drink still in hand, when you moved the desk chair closer to the bathroom door.  

“I’m sorry, I just, that lady from downstairs will murder me if I don’t make sure you’re okay,”  

You laughed at his excuse and gestured for him to put all he was holding down on the desk.  

“I’ll be quick.” You said, finding a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with you. 

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush.”  

You didn’t rush, but were quick anyway. You now had a man waiting for you to finish a shower and you knew you’d gone through all of his things, but leaving him alone in your hotel room surrounded by all of your things felt invasive.  

The warm water was nice and managed to relax your shoulders a little.  

Not a lot.  

But, you know, all little bits helped. 

“I’m okay,” you called when you shut off the water, hoping maybe Joe would reply, ok great, and maybe leave. He didn’t. Just said, “Good.” and then stayed put.  

When you emerged with wet hair, in soft shorts and a white tank top, Joe smiled at you. His eyes immediately went to the wet bandage that covered your eyebrow still, the tape strong enough to have kept it in place. Good. That was good.

His smile quickly disappeared however, when he saw you rub a hand at your neck, your face displaying a painful grimace. 

“Your jacket,” you pointed and Joe looked. Saw his jacket. Had seen it already. 

He didn’t move to grab it, instead turning back to you. His eyes flicked between your face that displayed painful discomfort and the hand that was squeezing at the flesh of your shoulder now. 

“All right, I’ll leave you alone in a second, but before you tell me you’re fine again, can I… can I just…” Joe held both his hands up. You just looked at them and didn’t move. Joe, in turn, placed both hands on top of your shoulders and frowned at what he felt.  

“Jesus, all right,” Joe turned, looked around the room, eyes darting and brain going at top speeds to put a plan together.   

“Do you mind if I…?”  

Perhaps Joe could start actually finishing his sentences, you thought, although you thought you knew what he meant and shrugged both your shoulders up to your ears.  

“No,” Joe’s eyes grew wide before he tutted at you. “Don’t, that doesn’t help. Come, sit,” 

Joe sat down on the edge of the bed before you did.  

“Face that way,” Joe pointed towards the windows, away from him. You followed instructions without question and felt how he collected your hair into one hand before carefully placing it over a shoulder so it’d be out of the way. 

“You know this isn’t what this is meant to feel like, right?” You could hear the humour carried in his voice. Of course you knew that. You knew you also weren’t meant to bite at your nails until your fingers bled. Weren’t meant to wake up sweating and panting because you’d hallucinated being trapped in a small dark place again.  

You felt the mattress level out behind you as Joe got up and stepped forward. He bent to the side a little, getting his shoulder in front of your face. 

“Here,” he touched himself where he’d touched you just before. “Feel this bit, how you can easily squeeze the soft tissue here?”  

You reached up, hesitated for a moment, but then touched Joe over his linen shirt that had a few buttons done up now, and squeezed where he told you to squeeze. Like it was normal.  

That was… that was all muscle.  

Not as thick and hard as whatever was happening to your shoulders, but these were Joe’s warm muscles you were pressing your fingers into. 

“Now feel yours,” Joe moved back, touched his fingers to where he wanted you to feel, and made you squeeze yourself in the same spot and, yea, okay, that was a big difference.  

“I am also here to relax, but clearly one of us needs it more than the other,” Joe huffed a laugh through his nostrils as he sat down on the bed again behind you and he got back to what he was doing before. 

“I've not gotten a good night's sleep in months,” you revealed as Joe dug thumbs into where it hurt.

Hurt good. 

Hurt so good. 

“You should book a massage,” Joe spoke softly, but kept massaging your shoulders, the bottom of your neck.  

“Hmmh,” you replied, afraid that if you’d say anything else, he’d stop what he was doing.  

Joe kneaded and pushed and squeezed and touched for a while, and you noticed you were starting to have to work really hard at not flopping over. At sitting up right and keeping your eyes open. You repressed yawns and tried to remember to breath properly, but you’d just had a nice shower and you’d barely gotten any sleep before and now you were on your bed in a comfortable outfit and Joe was massaging you with his big hands and maybe you could rest your eyes, for just a second, you know? 

“Here, lay down,” Joe suddenly whispered and without acknowledging how weird it was that Joe just sat outside your bathroom whilst you showered and was now massaging you to sleep in your hotel room, you just laid down. Instantly got comfortable on your stomach leaving enough space for Joe to sit on the side, one knee folded onto the bed and the other dangling down the side still.  

“There’s a– do you feel this?” Joe pushed knuckles exactly where you wanted them. “Huge knot.” 

“Feels nice,” you whispered, breathy and exhausted. 

“I can loosen it up a bit more, but this– you really should get a professional massage,”  

Joe kept working strong fingers and even stronger knuckles into the same spots until you couldn’t even feel it anymore. Just felt numb. Or maybe you were just falling asleep and not stopping yourself from slipping under.  

Joe’s hands never ventured much lower – maybe just a little, but nothing inappropriate. You were only strangers after all. He thought that you knew who he was but then you didn’t and now the playing field was level and, sure, you knew more about him because you’d gone through his whole suitcase, but he was in your hotel room now and you were falling asleep under his touch.

Fell asleep under his touch. 

You woke up in an empty hotel room hours later, covered by the folded-over other half of the duvet you were lying on top of.  

You felt… well rested. Only a little disoriented. A little thirsty. Nothing crazy. 

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s fingers trailing from your shoulders down your arms and back up again and you felt a little sad that he wasn’t there anymore.   

It was still light out, but the sun was setting and it felt like the whole day had passed you by today. You stretched, body feeling looser. Better. Joe was right though, you needed to book a massage. Maybe two. Or three.  

When you looked over and saw Joe’s jacket still there, slung over the back of the chair that was now back in its spot behind the desk, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. He could’ve taken that – should have taken that, and yet… 

Yea, the day had been weird.

Had been weird from the start.

The weird night's sleep, Joe's toiletries bag, the wound above your eye, the empty coke can on the desk, the massage that had put you to sleep for several uninterrupted hours, and, Joe's jacket.

Weird.

And then room service was weird.

And watching the sunset from your balcony was weird.

Then trying to get back into bed for actual nighttime sleep was weird.

All of it, just... weird.

Room 907.

You'd said you would return the jacket today.

And then he'd been in your room and he'd stayed with you until you'd fallen asleep and then he hadn't taken it.

Joe's jacket was still in your hotel room.

Weird.

You tried ignoring it. Tried to watch TV. Scrolled on your phone. Thought of taking a long bath, maybe.

But that stupid jacket. It kept calling your attention from across the room.

Even after turning off all the lights and tossing and turning for about an hour, you could still feel it there. Taunting. Whispering dares.

Bring me to his hotel room.

Take me there.

Come on.

And...

Fuck.

All right.

You sat up in bed, flicked on a light and squinted both eyes at the sudden brightness.

There it was, still in the same spot. Joe's jacket.

“Fine. You win.” you told no one and slung your legs out of bed, grumbling with annoyance as you took the jacket from the chair and found your hotel room key on the side.

Room 907.

The hotel was quiet as you took the lift down two floors and found Joe's room quick enough.

You stalled a second, unsure if you should knock, but then thought, fuck it. You were there now, jacket in hand, and you'd said you'd bring it back today. You knocked softly, then waited and listened. Nothing. Just to be safe, you knocked again, and then heard the soft click of a light switch. You ignored how that made your heart thunder in your throat.

It didn't take long for the door to open. When you saw Joe's tired face, you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

You should've waited 'til the next morning. This wasn't a cool move.

“Your jacket,” you felt so dumb. Looked so dumb.

But then you caught sight of the smallest of smiles as Joe took it from you, holding the door wide open as he did.

A beat of silence followed where you hoped Joe'd say thanks, so you could tell him thank you for letting you borrow it in return.

The thanks never came.

Instead Joe stepped aside, door still wide open, and gave a tiny backwards nod that welcomed you inside, followed by a quiet whisper.

“Come on.”

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

[heronoegg]

I mean this in the best way possible: If i looked up the word "spaghetti" in the dictionary i would find your art style.

On another note, i request bnha wing au lore, such as how similar their diets are to their specific bird species and birds in general as well as how cities look like, and a picture of Northern Goshawk Sero (because apparently they're the most acrobatic birds according to google.)

i don't even like spaghetti all that much if im being honest hjbghjfb it hurts my stomach and tomato makes me break out yet here i am eating pizza

anyway Sero is actully a sparrow because the pun was too good for me to pass it.

original colors and one i blasted with filters because i like doing that jvkgf hcj

i didn't want him being a hawk cause in their society Hawks are viewed as the "better" birds (by better i mean like Hawks though raptors are viewed as stronger, more successful, beautiful/handsome ect they are so this and so that) Sero's quirk compared to Bakugo influences my choice of making Bakugo a Hawk and Sero a common bird - a sparrow. there was another reason but i forgot what it was

Now as for your other questions.

-How similar are their diets to their specific bird species and birds in general

I mean, i wouldn't say somebody is eating another person, but it's not severely uncommon in their world that a person would eat another person if they were starving enough and there was nothing else around. Raptors would sooner eat a rat before another person they'd have to be severely pushed into eating another person and it's only raptors/predators cases that have eaten other bird persons but that hasn't happened in a long time (at least that they know about) It's frowned upon to eat people jfknvbghfj

They do eat seeds, they grow vegetables, they eat roots, they grow fruits, bugs that aren't sentient, they eat other little critters that aren't sentient, they eat rats that aren't sentient - they have some form of non-sentient cattle cause if rabbit people like Mirko exist that means rat people exist, i don't think sentient cow or pug people exist but bugs and lizards aren't off the table there are sentient bugs and lizards cause bug people are incorporated in wing society.

-how do cities look like?

I actually have this written out. Ok so in this AU for somereason i never explained but the planets flora grew to like massive height so giant trees that reach the clouds exist, flowers that are big as houses exist, plants making people look like bugs even if they are a bird exist but normal size land, plants and trees exist as well.

living arrangements

Bird people

they typically nest in tree houses or live in hollowed-out trees that serve as single-family homes or communal living spaces almost that of hotels.

Higher branches are reserved for the rich or successful - safety and status all that noise.

Mid-level branches have platforms and hanging structures it's middle-class neighborhoods. The poor/under paid live in shrubs where bugs live or smaller trees closer to the ground floor but still elevated enough that they aren't touching the complete ground.

Houses include perches and structures robust enough to support winged living. Regular furniture but adapted for wings and tails. Beds that provide space for wings i imagine their round?

People do still do nest-building - i think my friend said Deku's mom owns a nest. -it's an older generation thing, i assume they integrate natural materials into their living spaces either inside normal homes or in custom-built house.

i think the bird houses are my favorite thing in this AU cause i sit here and think about how their houses look alot

I think of balconies, roof gardens, open spaces it's really cool in my head think of skyloft from skyward sword but without the clouds kinda? i had skyloft in mind when i was making this AU

Bat people

They prefer caves or cave-like structures that can be built into cliffs or large trees. Wealthy bats love spacious caverns higher up, lots of privacy and security from predators

Middle-class bats may have communal roosts on ledges or hollowed parts of large trees, while the less fortunate find shelter in smaller crevices and overhangs closer to the ground but still vertical enough for their needs.

Bug people

those with butterfly or moth wings build around massive flowers and tall vegetation.

The rich live high in canopys but i think bugs are the lowest ranking species here.

some might dwell on large leaves or within the stems of tall plants, lots of vibrant communities akin suburban life. it's silly jhtbgfhj

Some individuals may resort to makeshift accommodations among thickets or low-lying plants, some elevation to facilitate their flight-based movement.

There are no streets; travel is facilitated by flight between different areas. There are lots of glades and clearings that serve as social and trading hubs for interaction between different species and economic classes.

i have other things about this AU but i wanna save it for it's own post i just wanted to answer your question.

[nitroglycerin-flavored-coffee]

His Blue Serge

Chapter 3:

When Vaggie finally gave up on pounding on the door, and just stormed into Charlie's chambers, she was shocked to find she wasn’t there. The space was much more impressive than their previously shared room. Closer to Lucifer's suite than the other residents, Charlie's room consisted of multiple rooms. The former hotel was a much less grand affair, each room simply being a guestroom that had been turned into the generic affair of plain beds and a nightstand. In the new hotel, each room had an attached bathroom, some with little entryways that held counters and sinks for residents to place their own appliances. That was what Vaggie currently had. Charlie, on the other hand, had more like a mini apartment. The entry room with the coat rack and shoe bench led to a fairly empty- yet still elegant sitting room.

There was no TV, but a large plush couch and some love seats, all perfect for snuggling up after a long day and reading a book, or just enjoying the peace. To the side was a covered desk, papers in stacks surrounding it. Large windows looked out to the front of the hotel over Pentagram City, and only after taking a step into the room did Vaggie realize the windows were truly French doors. A feature surely carried over from the former hotel, Charlie's balcony that allowed her to view her Kingdom.

Through a large archway a small kitchenette and a small parlor set, papers cover that surface as well, along with a few mugs. Vaggie didn’t get the chance to venture further in. Just as she was about to call out for Charlie, looking for the door that would lead to the bedroom, a set of hands wrapped around her shoulders.

“Ah- ah- ah…” Drew out the filtered voice. Instinctively Vaggie shot out her wings to push the assailant and give her distance, summoning her spear to her hand.

While her wings didn’t make contact with anything, the hands let go, and she swiveled to face the one who startled her. Of course, there was no one standing where she would have expected, and she narrowed her eyes in search.

“Ahem,” Alastor coughed from one of the loveseats, his red attire sticking out on the white fabric and instantly drawing Vaggies eye. “You know, It is quite rude to trespass into someone’s personal space like this.” He examined his nails, surely as sharp as ever.

Vaggie snarled but retracted her spear nonetheless. “You’re one to talk,” she growled. “What are you doing in Charlie's room?” Her stance held strong even as the radio demon dispersed in a film of shadow and reappeared right in front of her, closer than would be comfortable. She pulled her spear across her chest, a form of barrier between her and the Radio Demon.

“You know!” He laughed, ”I was about to ask you the same thing.” He leaned down into her face, hands clasping behind his back as his smile grew ever wider. “I was under the impression she wanted nothing to do with you.”

Vaggie repositioned her spear, aiming it at his face as he backed up into another chair, becoming eye level with her. “Where is she?” His being here, in Charlie's space, that only spelled trouble.

“Now why in Hell’s great realm would you need to know that?” Alastor asked as he completely ignored the spear nearly scraping his nose as the angel looked down at him. She stepped closer, holding the spear the same distance from him as she puffed up her wings.

“She’s my girlfriend! Now tell me!”

“Oh?” The lights dimmed, static filling the air as Alastor leaned forward into her spear, forcing her to pull it back to avoid pricking his face. As much as she hated this prick, she wasn’t going to hurt him unless he moved first. It would just upset Charlie. “I hadn’t noticed. You know, with her evading you at all opportunities.” He laughed as Vaggie’s wing folded up over her ears, giving away her insecurities where her face would not.

“With how she is, what was it? D o n e .” The lights flickered, and his yellow teeth and red eyes were all that were visible within those few seconds. “Surely she made it clear that she did not want your company.” The lights came back on as Vaggie withdrew her spear, holding it close to her once more as her wings betrayed how small she truly felt. They curled up even further over her shoulders and shadowed her pensive face.

Alastor leaned on his palm, fully reclining in the chair as he smiled victoriously at Vaggie. “Well dear, she isn’t here. But I do recommend you give her space.” Shadows swallowed him up, and before he fully dissipated, he finished, “Something seems to be stressing our dear princess out these days. I wonder what it could be.”

Alastor returned to his tower. It wasn’t much unlike Charlie’s in that it was more like an apartment than a hotel room. It was darker in style though. If Alastor was forced to explain the style of his suite, he’d probably say a cross of dark academia- with large bookshelves and many nooks and crannies one could park themselves on and be comfortable- and a New Orleans Voodoo museum. Scattered all around on his shelves were bottles of elixir, and only he knew the effects each would have. Boxes of herbs and a few shrunken heads.

When he was alive, he and his mother were avid practitioners of Voodoo-Catholicism. Most of it was just rituals or spiritual healing, but he found that in the afterlife, there were practical applications of some of the skills he carried with him. For example, the tea that he had been drinking before his little excursion, the very same that he had shared with Charlie.

His mother had whispered incantations of healing over them, to reset the spirit and aid with the physical symptoms of spiritual unrest. He continued this habit and found that while it wasn’t the most effective in healing large wounds, it helped with the aches that remained after receiving them. Better than any narcotic without unnecessary inhibitions. It truly did help with the tension that followed the scar that dragged from his shoulder to hip across his chest.

He may have been hiding away in his suite more often until the vulnerability remedies itself, but it’s not as if the potentially fatal blow was nothing he couldn’t bounce back from.

And poor Charlie, she had half a cup, and he had hardly begun to conjure a somnolent charm before she practically fainted on the couch. It spoke volumes about the true amount of stress she was feeling. As the Hotelier, he did his part in making sure she could truly take her much-needed break. After finishing off the last of the pot, he snuck through the main staff office and tried to put together a proper way to check in for their guests. Before they had simply moved their stuff into an empty room, which was fine for all of the two residents, but they would need to be a bit more thorough if even half the cannibals trying to check in now were committed.

Lucifer didn’t venture far from his suite often since the battle. Most trips necessary were negated by summoning whatever he needed, but the issue was that there had to be something already in existence in order to summon it. Now that most of his supplies from his old work room were gone, he took a trip out into the main area of the hotel.

Of course, he could conjure something, but that takes energy. He hadn’t been out in a minute anyway. Most of his trips were to show Charlotte what he had made or been tinkering with. He decided to involve her more after that one conversation. She had said he inspired her, and it seemed like a good start to try and build their bond back up.

He couldn’t find her though. He knew her rooms- which he had insisted on! A Princess having one of those- those cells! That the Sinners stayed in was just not it. Not cool. Not… Just not where a Princess should stay! What was he doing?

Right! Charlotte's rooms were close to his. Not on the same floor, but on the same side of the building. He thought. He might have walked right past them and not known. In fact- he walked right past them. He was sure of it. He knew because Charlotte’s room was not on the main floor. Lingering sinners, some of those dark-eyed sharp-toothed fellows had taken to lounging in the lobby. Some were scattered about and nodded to him politely.

Oh shit. He had been noticed. Acknowledged. He didn’t want to look like he was lost, he helped build this place for Dad’s sake! He squared his shoulders and took casual steps towards the front doors. If needed, he could just walk out and portal back up to his room. But he still hadn’t seen Charlotte yet! Forget whatever stupid thing he wanted before, now he just wanted to check on her. Partly because he didn't remember the exact material he was looking for- but partly because he loves his daughter and the whole point of him staying in this (admittedly tasteful and improved) Damn Hotel was to be closer to her!

He almost stumbled, almost, when he saw the bar sitting nestled in the front of the lobby. Supposedly it was also supposed to function as a reception, but this place was huge, they could put the bar anywhere. Seems silly to stick it right there. On the other hand- Booze! That can be where he was pretending to have been intending to have been wanting- wait, what do you call what he’s doing?

Getting a drink! Doesn’t matter what he may have been doing, to look like the super legit and serious king he was, he just would stride up to the front desk bar thing!

Billy- no that’s not his name. That's a stupid name. Howard? That’s not right either. The kitty cat with wings was grumbling behind the desk/bar as he slowly restocked the shelf behind him. He flinched at the clinking of the bottles together. Clearly, Husker had a hangov-

“HUSKER!” The King happily exclaimed as he walked right into and fell over the bar. He knocked down the stacked crates that held cheap liquor and stopped himself on Husker's knee. The poor sinner, now he had a hangover and a sore knee. He held his head in one hand and steadied Lucifer, still balanced on the knocked-over crates.

“Sooo-” He said, limp against the sinner's knee as he casually picked up one of the bottles he had knocked over. “Long night? Or day? I don’t know what time it is.” In response, he got a loud groan, and in sympathy, he passed the bottle over to the sinner. He needed it more than him.

Eventually, Lucifer was at a proper spot at the bar. Which was actually to the side of the check-in desk. The check-in desk was much shorter than where the seats were pushed in, which explains how his short ass was able to easily fall over it. Or maybe he was just taller than the average checking-in sinner. Yeah, let’s go with that one!

Husker was already halfway through the bottle he had retrieved and was surprisingly refreshing to talk to. He either didn’t care that Lucifer was the literal ruler and all-powerful leader of the realm, or he was just too inebriated to care or notice who he was talking to. Of course, the conversation wasn't easy to follow with all of Husker’s mumbling and swearing. But Lucifer was happy to sit and nod along as he casually held his glass of Washington Apple.

“And I was just fucking minding my own business! I don’t even know who to blame for waking me up!” Husker seemed to easily reverse the roles of the therapeutic bartender. “Can’t a man just have a single moment of peace!”

Lucifer happily sipped on his drink, careful not to embarrass himself by scowling at the burn. He was happy to let his mind wander once more until Husker scoffed and turned away from the bar.

“Here comes a headache.” He popped another bottle open against the shelf, leaving a scuff.

“Are you still drinking!?” Charlie’s girlfriend demanded as she stormed up to the bar, holding her spear towards the floor as she stomped towards them. Lucifer raised an eyebrow. She had her spear out? Her angelic spear? Those hurt. For sure, he doesn’t pity who she would aim it at. Wait, why is she aiming it at anyone?

“Is there trouble, Maggie?” He asked, placing his glass down firmly, rising from the chair as he looked around for the danger. She quickly realized why he was worried, and let the spear disperse.

“We’re all good! Sorry, Your Majesty.” She took a deep breath and wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. It was so cute! Her little uniform. He should get a uniform, then He could match Charlie and her little girlfriend. “Just got spooked by a pest, is all.”

Lucifer wondered where the scary little person was, she was in charge of that right? She was always chasing… Something or the other! Maybe she was already on it! Speedy little thing.

Turning back to the angelic girl, He had just an absolute genius idea! “Say, Vinnie,” He started.

“Uh- Vaggie, Sir.”

“Uh-huh. Where is my Char Char? I’d love to see my little Apple Gal-ette.” He moved from behind the chair and put his hands on his knees. “Get it! Gal -ette? Galette? I- you know what I’m hilarious.” Lucifer straightened up and summoned his apple-topped cane to lean on. “So where is she?”

Vaggie’s eye hardened as she cast it downward. Isn’t it weird that her wings healed and her eye didn’t? Surely it is in her power as an angel to heal that right up. “I don’t know. She doesn’t really want to talk to me right now.” Oh, too bad. He’ll just have to keep searching on his own. Surely he won’t miss her rooms on the way back up. He didn’t see Vaggie sigh in relief when he shrugged and strutted past her back towards the stairs.

While Lucifer waved at the friendly cannibals on his way back up, Husker gave Vaggie an irritated, yet sympathetic look. She sat down instead of continuing to scold him for drinking. Husk had a feeling the girls were over for good, and a good bartender let his patrons vent.

Sorry for the weird gaps between paragraphs. It's like that from the google doc and I can't be bothered to fix it

[your-divine-ribs]

It’s Good To Be Back

Words: 1.6k

I got this request just before the guys played the headline slot in 2021 and I wrote it the day before not knowing anything about what had gone down 😭

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

You blink, groggily, the morning light filtering through a gap in the blinds, harsh and unforgiving. You've not slept well. You never do in hotel rooms. There was a time a few years back when you thought you might actually start getting used to it, but then the pandemic hit. Things had been a little different since then.

You turn over in bed, pulling the sheets around your naked frame, sighing at the empty space beside you. You reach out a hand to touch the sheets to find that they're cold. You wonder at what ungodly time in the morning your boyfriend had risen and what he's doing now. Then the faint sounds of an acoustic guitar drifts to you, giving you your answer.

A quick check of the digital alarm clock on the nightstand shows that it's a little after 6am and you stifle a yawn as you sit up in bed, reaching down for the oversized t-shirt that you sleep in which was discarded last night in the throes of passion.

The cool air of the air-conditioned hotel room hits your bare skin which instantly erupts into goosebumps as you hurriedly slip the t-shirt over your head, pulling it down over your body. Then you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and rise up, making for the source of the gentle melody of the guitar which drifts through the slightly open balcony door.

The morning is bright, clear skies with a light dusting of gossamer clouds scattered across the blue, promising a warm, sunny day. Perfect festival weather, you smile to yourself.

You find Van on the balcony, sitting on a chair cradling his acoustic guitar, hunched over slightly, eyes on the frets as he plucks at the strings. He's caught in deep concentration and hasn't noticed your arrival, head bowed, a tiny crease on his brow, the tip of his tongue just poking out the corner of his mouth. You take a moment to admire him, a smile finding its way on to your lips as you lean back against the doorframe.

The morning sun paints golden flecks on his hair which has gotten so long, falling around his ears and curling softly at his shoulders. A constellation of sun-darkened freckles paints his cheeks and the bridge of his nose from his recent trip to LA. You can still see the slight blush the sun's left on his pale skin where his unbuttoned shirt hangs open.

"How long have you been up for?"

The sudden sound of your voice startles him and his fingers slip off the strings with a noisy twang as he lifts his head quickly, a smile breaking out instantly on seeing you there.

"Morning love, you gave me a fright," he says, his eyes widening slightly. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I was trying to be quiet."

Anyone that didn't know Van well would think that he looked the picture of happiness as he sits there beaming at you, his face all lit up, but you know better. You can see that there's a certain hesitance behind the smile which doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"It's okay," you assure him. "Couldn't sleep anyway. You know what I'm like in hotel rooms."

He raises his eyebrows at you, his grin widening cheekily. "Thought you'd sleep like a baby after last night. Thought I might've worn you out!"

You giggle, shaking your head, making a show of rolling your eyes. Van laughs too, lifting the guitar off his lap and reaching down to set it on the floor, leaning it up against his chair. He holds out a hand to you, beckoning you over.

"C'mere Y/N..."

You step over until you're within Van's reach, slipping your hand into his, and he pulls you gently to him, urging you to sit on his lap.

"So... how ya feeling?" You say, slipping your hands around his shoulders, purposefully brightly as you see a flicker of something cross his features.

It's fleeting, and he quickly recovers with a smile, but you know there's something simmering underneath, something casting a shadow on his usually sunny demeanour.

"Good... really good," he replies, nodding slightly. "I can't believe I'm actually going out there on stage today though. It's gonna be mental. You know they completely sold out? It's like 90,000 capacity or something. That's a hell of a lot of people."

His voice is unusually quiet, he looks nervous and you're taken aback. He's been full of excitement all week, practically bouncing on the soles of his feet as he moves around. All he's been talking about is how much he's missed being up on stage and performing live.

"Van... you've done Glastonbury before. You can't get bigger than Glasto," you say, watching his face crease a little in what looks like real concern.

"That was years ago... and besides we weren't headlining then. This is like... the biggest thing we've ever done."

"You're headliners for a reason," you tell him. "The fans can't wait to see you. It's all over Twitter and Instagram. They're going wild! Haven't you seen the comments?"

"You know I don't look on there!"

He grimaces with a look of distaste and you can't help but laugh. Van's aversion to social media comes up all the time in conversation. It used to puzzle you when you first got together, but you soon understood well enough. The public were fickle and you could be adored one day and just as easily vilified the next.

"They still love you guys, don't worry! And you're gonna do great! You're going to be amazing in fact!"

He smiles but it's weak with no conviction. He looks down for a moment before he looks back up, meeting your eyes. "I don't know love... it's been so long. You should have seen us at rehearsals last week. We were useless... well, not the guys... they were all great. It was me! I completely fucked up Hourglass!"

"But you always fuck up Hourglass!" You laugh. "I think the fans actually expect it now, it's like part of the show!"

Van chuckles. "Yeah... I could probably just let them take over. They'd probably do a better job to be fair!"

You move your hands from around his shoulders, cupping his face in your hands as you speak.

"Look... you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about. You're going to go out there and give it your all like you always do. You're gonna have a great time and the fans are going to go crazy as always. I bet two songs in it'll be like you've never even been away."

His gaze locks with yours, his blue eyes starting to glimmer with that old excitement you know and love so well as he takes in your words. "D'ya really think so?"

A strand of his hair falls across his face and you reach up to brush it back, tucking it behind his ear. "I don't just think so... I know so."

The collective sound of the crowd is so loud that you can actually feel the vibrations thrumming through your body. You allow yourself a quick look from your spot at the side of the stage and you suck in a breath. There's a vast sea of faces stretching off into the night, all upturned towards the stage, the noisy thrum of anticipation as the tension builds. Van's standing beside you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, rolling his shoulders and shaking his limbs like he's limbering up.

"Fuck... this is it. When we first played here back in 2013 I never dreamed we'd be back here headlining!"

The lights from the stage illuminate his profile, and you can see the excitement etched on his face, the exhilaration running through his veins at the thought of getting out on stage and doing what he loves. You can feel it radiating off of him and it's contagious, your heart pumping hard and fast as the noise of the crowd steadily rises.

"You're gonna be amazing... you're..."

Your words are cut off abruptly as you feel hands around your waist and all of a sudden Van's drawing you in close, his body pressing up against yours, his face just inches away as he bends his head down to your level.

"I love you babe," he murmurs, holding you in his gaze, his arms wrapped tightly around you, stealing your breath.

"Love you too..."

All of a sudden everything has melted away... the crowds... the stage... it's all faint and indistinct as he leans in to you. You stretch up on to your tiptoes, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet and you melt into the kiss.

"Oi you pair! There's no time for that! Come on Van, you're on in literally two minutes!"

Larry's voice rudely interrupts and you pull away, frowning at him playfully.

There's a whirlwind of activity as the rest of the band step forward, eyes wide, excited murmurs, hearts racing with adrenaline. Your heart swells with pride as they all start to filter out on to the stage, one by one, and you listen as the crowd noise swells until it's a deafening cacophony of cheers, whistles and screams, filling the evening air.

Van strides out, full of confidence, waving at the throng with a huge grin stretching ear to ear. You smile to yourself as you picture him just this morning, riddled with self-doubt and nerves. It's all melted away as he picks up his guitar and steps up to the mic to greet the crowd.

"Hello Reading! We are Catfish and the Bottlemen! It's good to be back!"

[shadoedseptmbr]

Rules: List the First Line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

@keriweird posted a thing and i'm copying :D feel free to join i 1. bones are good-

“Would you…want to go away with me for a few days?" 2. electronics of your heart-

Shepard didn’t even blink as the scientist she’d spoken to in short, staccato bursts stumbled past her with a pistol in his shaking hand. 3. liberty and the chase-

She is going to have to go back to the ship sometime. 4. they come back (they don't all come back)-

they come back from Virmire

5. pick me up pull me down-

Everything was squared away. 

6. Reflection-

Aedan focused on the apple in her hand as the crew filtered in and out of the mess for breakfast.

7. The End is Where We Begin-(this is not the first line of this fic because it was a joint project but it is the first line i was wholly responsible for, heh)-

The stupidly hot not-a-cop had walked easy enough —taken directions, even— and they’d made it past the Reds checkpoint to the end of 10th Street with nothing but a wave to a window check.

8. if you can crash a MAKO-

"Why are we doing this, again?"

9. induendum-

It’s an easy slide, from the low slung, overstuffed pillowed lounge on a balcony of the open air pavilions to their hotel room to his hands on her shoulders and her legs spread before Aedan and the salt and lime scent of Otalya’s folds and slick spread from Niraltik’s cock and it had been a good way to wrap up a week of wedding whirlwind, especially since she was feeling oddly sad about it, now that Gerte and Ianya were on their way to an Earthside honeymoon.

10. red sky at morning-

They were running late on their rounds but the sidewalk had emptied out as the sun fell and the street began to shut down for the night.

hmm. well as for patterns, i'm still a sucker for starting in media res. I think it's the best hook for a situation where the reader is mildly familiar with the setting. Anyone else see anything? (these are the first ten fics available on my AO3, which tells me that i'm behind on transferring ficlets from tumblr, heh.)

[yourlocalunstablefox]

Chapter One

Harm On The Soul

Author's Note:

I will post Chapter 2 when I have time, working on it already, but this one gave me creative block, so it'll be a while :')

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

Alastor watched the main lobby bustle with the same 5 patrons every day from the second floor balcony of the 'Hazbin Hotel'. The name made him laugh each time a sinner decided to walk through those cursed doors. He dematerialized into shadow, sinking into the hardwood floor, reforming behind princess Charlotte Morningstar. He watched inquisitively as she worked on a flyer. The demon's radio filtered voice caught her off guard.

"I see you have gotten more ideas to advertise the hotel my dear?"

She sighed. It was only Alastor. The demon made her jump when she heard his voice crackle. Charlie looked up at the demon, his plastered smile widening as his crimson eyes darted to meet hers. Full of enthusiasm, she started to explain her ideas about the hotel. Alastor was half listening, not really caring about the hotel more than he cared about her. His affection merely was to piss the short king off. His ears stood up and he turned around to see who he was just thinking about. Lucifer. He has been coming in and out since the final battle with the angels, killing Adam. The demon's static ceased to exist when The Devil's eyes met his. They scowled at each other and Lucifer scoffed. Alastor decided to prod at the depressed morsel in front of him.

"Look who's joined the party. None other than the shortie himself."

The insults of Lucifer's height were getting old. Lucifer still couldn't help but let it get to him. His tail sprouted from his back and he approached Alastor, grabbing him by his jacket. Lucifer pulled Alastor down onto his knees, watching how the demon's expression changed from malice to downright disrespect. He shoved Alastor down and sauntered off. Stopping for a brief moment, he turned around and stared needles into Alastor.

"Watch your tone sinner, or I'll finish what Adam started with you."

Alastor was horrified, but amused. He knew Lucifer couldn't kill him, it was all a bluff. Killing him meant that Charlie would lose more faith in her father, but knowing Lucifer he'd say he was trying to save Alastor from something. Then after a few tears, hugs, and apologies, everything would be back to normal. Bile filled Alastor's throat and he shoved it away. Charlie walked around the couch and offered her hand to Alastor, respecting his boundaries. The demon's smile showed naught his teeth as it widened, gracefully taking her offer to help.She sighed, and spoke softly to Alastor, letting him go once he was up.

"Dad's been feeling broken again. The fight made him remember how much he misses Mom, and no matter what I try to do, he passes it off as a phase. So could I ask a favour of you Al?"

When Alastor looked over, her eyes were pouty. He hated when she got like this. She knew they hated each other's guts and would kill each other in their sleep if they could. However, with a short thought and a small static sigh escaping Alastor's throat, he gave her a nod. Charlie squealed and jumped up and down like a child getting her candy. Alastor found it amusing, but backed away, thinking she would reach out and tackle him to the ground for a hug. She didn't and he was thankful for that. He then took his leave to find the depressed Duck King, melting into shadow. He took his time making his way to Lucifer's room--which was blatantly obvious with the big wooden duck carving on the door. Forming from the shadows he took a few steps to the door, his heels clicking as they tapped the hard wood underneath him. Alastor was amused, hearing Lucifer talk to himself to cope with being alone all the time in his desolate castle. With his maniacal grin- and a few touch-ups to his hair- the demon knocked. It was deep and the talking ceased to exist. Stepping back, Lucifer opened the door, finding the person he hates the most in his sight.

"What the fuck do you want now"

His tone was aggravated and Alastor's smile widened and static crackled louder around his body, then immediately faded. The Devil leaned against his doorframe, dressed in the tacky circus clothing he was so attached to. Minus the jacket and hat. Lucifer ran a hand through his golden hair and kept his gaze locked on the demon in front of him.

"Dear Charlie wanted me to see why you're refusing to talk to her, hm?"

Cocky marked his voice tone. He watched The King's expression turn from annoyance to pure hysterics. Lucifer laughed. Alastor hated it and made him want to grab Lucifer by his throat and strangle him where he stood, but he couldn't, and didn't. Lucifer seemed to have calmed down after a few moments of spiteful laughter, approaching Alastor. The demon didn't move and just looked down at him, that was, until Lucifer jabbed exactly where Adam struck his chest. Alastor tensed and made no noise as the King scrutinized him over manipulating Charlie, making her do his dirty work-.. . Lucifer's voice faded to Alastor as he disassociated, losing touch to all his surroundings, the pain unbearable. Shortly as he was halfway through the lecture, Lucifer noticed there was no reaction from him. His lips only moved to the lanky 7 foot demon, frozen in place and completely out in space. After a solid 5 minutes, Lucifer grabbed Alastor's microphone and that's when he came back, shoving Lucifer back and putting his microphone behind him.

"Jesus Alastor, I was trying to wake you the fuck up. You got lost in your twisted head apparently."

Alastor hissed and began to walk off, his right eye twitching. The Devil grabbed Alastor's arm and pulled him back to his room, tossing him in like a child's toy. The Devil closed the door behind them and locked it with a click. Groaning, Alastor staggered and stood up, falling back onto a silky armchair. Lucifer stared at Alastor for a moment before speaking, loud enough for both of them to hear, but not loud enough for the entire hotel to hear.

"You're hurt. Where did he get you."

A demonic snicker escaped Alastor's cursed lips. The Devil went off into a separate room, filling a small bucket with warm, pure water. Instead of having a sulphur smell, it was actually nice to Alastor's findings. The demon relaxed a bit more, comfortable in the space, sort of forgetting Lucifer was there. The Devil returned with a rag and the bucket. He was careful not to slosh it around carelessly. Setting it gently down by the armchair, Alastor looked up at him, cocking his head to the side.

"Take your shirt and jacket off."

It wasn't a question, Lucifer demanded it. Alastor snorted and shook his head. He wasn't going to listen and wanted to see what would happen if he didn't. A sadistic smile spread across his face, his teeth were shown slightly.

"For fuck- fine, I won't fucking stare at you as you undress. Christ’s sake."

Alastor liked that and watched as the King turned around. He took his time, taking his bowtie off and setting it in his lap. Sliding his jacket off and letting it rest on the back of the armchair. Lucifer was getting impatient taken since he started tapping his black heel boot. The demon rolled his crimson eyes and he took his shirt off.

"Why are you so interested in helping me anyway."

Turning around, Lucifer took the clothing pieces and walked off to a laundry room, putting them in the wash. Alastor grumbled to himself, obviously stuck dealing with this until Lucifer healed and fixed this holy mess. The King returned and stood in front of Alastor, holding a pair of scissors in one hand, his other on his waist, waiting for Alastor to relax.

"I need to sit on your lap"

Alastor hissed and gave Lucifer a venomous glare. The Devil scoffed and shook his head.

"Why can't you use the floor or do it standing."

Lucifer held back laughter, all that came out was a stifled chuckle with a snort.

"Would you like to hear all of Hell to hear you screaming in pain an agony as I rip angelic power from your body? Not counting how you'll squirm-"

"Okay! Shut the hell up!"

Alastor cut Lucifer off and groaned, patting his lap gently, inviting Lucifer. He took the invitation and straddled Alastor's legs as he sat on the demon's lap. Leaning in, his hot breathe brushed Alastor's fur on his chest as he gently slipped the scissors into Alastor's wound. The warning of Alastor screaming was not a lie. Lucifer was surprised the stubborn demon listened to him and complied. Starting to procedure, Lucifer slowly pulled the golden power from the deer's chest, which made his patient hiss and groan. The Devil found this amusing. Hell's most feared overlord was in his room, straddled and weak. Out of spite he ripped it out more with a flick of his hand. Alastor screamed and shot a shitty glare at Lucifer, whose grin was snake-like. Alastor closed his eyes and sucked on his breath, sighing. Lucifer held up a piece of cloth, which Alastor bit down on. Chuckling, Lucifer pulled more out and ripped it clean from his body. Alastor screamed in agony, most of it muffled from the cloth, his body trembling underneath Lucifer, the power entering Lucifer's body willingly. Lucifer grinned once more, enjoying to see Alastor suffer from his choices."

I guess the big bad Radio Demon isn't as strong as he's perceived to be, is he Bambi?"

That cut it. Alastor's antlers sprouted and he wanted to rip Lucifer limb from limb. Drink his angelic blood and eat whatever flesh is on his body. Lucifer hummed and got off the sinner's lap, walking off to his bathroom. Alastor looked down at his fur coated chest, a red fingertipped hand caressing where the wound still resided. The King made his return. Quietly he leaned down and took the cloth out of the bucket, wringing it out before standing and resting it over the sinner's gash. Alastor inhaled sharply, the wound stinging as Lucifer cleaned it up, not making eye contact with him as his eyes wandered to what was around in the room. Rubber ducks coated the floors in small piles, duck bedsheets, and one thing caught his attention. He tensed as his eyes scanned a family portrait; Lilith, Lucifer, and Charlotte. Lucifer looked up at him and turned his head back, locking their eyes together, his read 'stop looking about and pay attention to what you're in here for'. Alastor rolled his eyes and watched as Lucifer got back to work, the wound closing up as he finished cleaning the red blood from the sinner's body. Getting up without saying another word, Lucifer took the bucket and sauntered off to the kitchen, dumping it out and cleaning the cloth off. The sinner got up and Lucifer turned around, giving him a glare.

"It'd be best not to move for a while, or else you'll fall weak and unconscious quickly with constant movements."

Alastor sat back down and growled to himself. Lucifer's expression softened and he walked over to the laundry room, taking Alastor’s clothes out of the dryer and quietly ironing them down so they were back to their normal state. The sinner crossed his right leg over his left, ankle resting on his thigh. The Devil walked back over and set the shirt and jacket down on a table next to the armchair, walking off to a different room. Alastor grabbed his clothing and slipped it on, thankfully the tail he has wasn’t found out, although he hated that the scars from his childhood and fights were shown to the King. Lucifer came back a few minutes later, noticing that the sinner was clothed again.

"Good, good.." Lucifer mumbled before raising his voice enough for Alastor to hear, stopping a few feet from him.

"Would you like anything? Coffee? Tea? Perhaps something to eat?"

Alastor’s eyebrows rose and the demon’s sadistic smile widened at the offers.

“Coffee, black, is fine”

The Devil gave a nod before walking into the kitchen. Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed and he closed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. Waiting was something he could do, but his thoughts stopped as there were knocks on the door. Lucifer hurried over and cracked the door open, the voice was Charlie’s.

“Is Alastor in here, Dad?”

Alastor could see Lucifer tense slightly then relax. He nodded and opened the door completely, stepping out of the way to allow her inside. The sinner looked at the princess as she walked over, sitting next to him in another armchair.“Did you get to Dad’s head?” He thought about it for a moment, quietly responding as his crimson eyes tracked Lucifer back into the kitchen.

"I suppose I did dear"

Charlie smiled and wanted to hug Alastor and say thank you many times, but she didn’t. Alastor could see that and it made him chuckle. She tilted her head to the side slightly, wondering what made him laugh. He waved his hand as if passing her thought question away. Her head want back up and she turned, watching as Lucifer exited the kitchen, setting a cup down on the end table. The smell of the coffee made Alastor’s mouth water. Lucifer grinned, as if seeing his desire. The sinner fixed up his bow tie and took the cup, holding in his hands and watching the black liquid swirl for a moment. Charlie went over and sat by Lucifer, grabbing a tea cup filled with the herbal liquid and sipped on it. The deer took a sip of the coffee and closed his eyes, savoring the purity, a different taste than the sulfuric water that he normally used. The Devil watched his reaction with interest. Charlie looked at him and her eyebrows rose.

“Dad, your face is painted yellow-”

Lucifer got confused before realizing what she meant. He set the cup down and rushed to the bathroom, looking into the mirror. The Devil groaned and covered his face. He was blushing heavily, and didn’t even feel it. Alastor was intrigued and got up, setting the mug on the table. Charlie went to stop him, but he was already halfway down the hallway. The sinner leaned in the doorway and watched Lucifer stare into the mirror. He coughed politely, Lucifer jerked and snapped his gaze to the 7 foot demon in the doorway.

“What do you want?”

Alastor noticed the yellow streaking the King’s face. He walked over and put a finger under his chin, tilting his head up slightly. Lucifer wanted to move but couldn’t, frozen. The sinner leaned down to Lucifer’s height. The King’s mind raced and he stumbled on his own words, not knowing what to say. The demon’s smile widened.

“Cat got your tongue?~”

He teased. Lucifer snarled and pushed Alastor away. The demon fell on his ass and looked up at the glaring Devil. Alastor went to get up but Lucifer stopped him.

“What the hell do you want with me now, sire?”

Lucifer leaned down and with no word, kissed Alastor. The demon froze up and watched as Lucifer pulled away a few moments later, getting up, and walking out of the bathroom. Alastor shook his head and got up off the floor, fixing his jacket and bow tie. He walked out and went back to the armchair, sitting down, his mind trying to process what the hell happened just then. Lucifer paid no mind to the confused demon. Alastor picked his coffee up and sipped it, wondering why The Devil dared to break his boundaries and give the most strangest gift to him.

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

Hope you liked it :3

[coffeebanana]

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Oooooh this is a fun one!! Thanks for the tag @saiikavon!! Idk if first line specifically means only first sentence, but I'm restricting myself that so this doesn't get stupidly long LOL. (Technically I suppose this is last ten updated, but I'm not going to hunt down initial posting dates ahaha.)

Feet buried in the sand, Marinette watched as a drop of watermelon juice dribbled down Adrien’s chin. -- from What Else Did You Imagine?

The ceiling above Adrien’s sofa was far from captivating, but if he stared long enough it was easy to let his vision go blurry. -- from missing person (at the window)

Ladybug didn’t mean to crash-land on Adrien’s balcony. -- from Probably Not The Best Idea

Adrien sat in a director’s chair, watching the photographer take a few test shots to check the studio’s lighting. -- from It Feels Like Fate

Soft sunlight filtered through the sheer hotel curtains when Adrien came to, but he felt none of its warmth. -- from Say Something

“Let me see…” -- from This Distance Between Us

Adrien’s heart pounded as he walked into the locker room, his fencing helmet tucked under one arm. -- from Sweater Weather

“I still can’t believe I wasn’t funny,” Adrien mumbled as he finally emerged from the bathroom, thankfully wearing the pyjama pants Nino had sent him in with. -- from A Little Less Wise

“Hey!” Marinette shouted as Alya swiped the phone right out of her hand. “Give it back!” -- from Because It's You

“You should be more careful,” Kagami said as she slowly wrapped a bandage around Marinette’s wrist. -- from Of Lavender, Chamomile, and Miscommunication

No pressure tags for @ck2k18, @wackus-bonkus-maximus, @heartfulselkie, @redundant-lava, @celestialtitania, @kasienda, @thelibraryloser and anyone else who wants to participate!!

[sabraeal]

Oh god, how could I forget? *slams hands on table* OBI AND SHIRAYUKI COME OUT TO EACH OTHER, WFB EDITION

[Read on AO3]

There's a surreality that clings to the corners of her night, a certain strangeness that fuzzes the edges like one of Kiki's filters. If Shirayuki's truthful with herself-- which she tries to be-- the whole weekend has been like this, like her body has been wrapped in bubble-wrap, a buffer between her and Tanbarun to keep it from hurting her again. And then for one moment, cheap beer had sloshed against her finger and she thought, I can handle this, it won't beat me, I won't flinch thinking of home forever.

Hard to believe that was only a few hours ago, when now the only thing keeping her upright is the door at her back. That once again, Raj has muted her world. Not on purpose, not like last time; oh no, it's his honesty that wounds, and she can't hate him for it, but she can't forgive either, and he--

Ah, well, maybe Obi has a point. Some things, he's said, his sharp smile strained from holding it so wide, belong right where they're buried.

Her legs don't tremble as she stands, but the ground's so unsteady beneath her feet it makes no difference. Her world pitches with every step across the vintage hardwood, a struggle to stay upright until her world tips at it edges, landing her flat on the mattress. A nice one, firmer and more supportive than the one back in her dorm, even if she had spent thirty dollars layering enough toppers on it to make as nice as a hotel. It would be easy to slip into sleep now, to let this day be drowned out by dreams with a better narrative structure than real life.

But she can't. Not when her mind is racing still, running through Raj's confession like a hamster on a wheel, churning it over and over until she's unmoored. Her body may physically remain in this room, but she no longer sees the crown molding around the ceiling or french doors to the balcony-- instead she witnesses a night three months behind her, every detail blown to life-size.

Hey, Red. His eyes were glazed, she remembers that. From drinking, she'd thought; just a brother three sheets to the wind, press-ganged into one last delivery that kept him from the keg. Raj said he wanted you to have this.

The man doesn't even blink at his lie, just holds out the cup the way anyone would; two lives destroyed with as much ease as hands touch. Doesn't bother to stay either, the way a real villain would, ready to gloat over his dastardly plans. No, evil occurs without even a flinch, unremarkable in its ordinariness. That she believed it all is a simple mistake, one that anyone could have fallen for--

But Obi hadn't. He took one look at that man and called him a shark, laughed at how no one had seen it when blood chummed in his wake. And if he could, then why, why hadn't she?

If she'd only known, then it wouldn't have been Raj in Kino's exposé, and it wouldn't have been Shenezard lawyers that sat across the table from her, explaining to her in terrifying detail the penalties for slander and libel. No, they would be sitting beside her, coaching her through her testimony, making sure that she knew just where to twist the knife. Anything to make sure the campus-- and their investors-- knew that they were washing their hands of this criminal, the frat severing ties with the brother whose actions threatened their charter. It wouldn't have been easy, but she could have stayed, and she--

She never would have met Zen. Or Kiki, or Mitsuhide. Not even Obi, unless there was a dean as dedicated to meddling with Shenezards as much as Wisterias. Shirayuki would still be in her grief single, struggling to get out of bed as her single friend rode her trauma to a post-graduate position.

Her thoughts race, one what-if chasing another, a glut of almosts poised to flood her with second guesses, castigating her for not thinking so clearly, so perfectly in the moment--

It’s-- it’s too much.

This is hardly the first time she’s flirted with a panic attack, but to have one here, pressed in by the walls of the house where it all happened--

Shirayuki gets up. Fresh air. That’s what she needs. A change of scenery. A possibility of escape. Sure, she’s on the second floor, but that’s never stopped her before. Her legs won’t tremble, but her hands do as they reach out for her cardigan, the wool snagging on her nails before she manages to wrangle it around her shoulders.

The night is bracing when she steps into it, not windy, but cold, the air carrying more winter than she expects. They’d left snow behind in Clarines, but Tanbarun’s only been brisk, cushioned by the Sound to the south. Sea effect, that’s what it’s called.

“So.” She jumps, and oh, there’s Obi right there, lounging on his own balcony, blanket framing his grin. “Did catharsis live up to the hype or whatever?”

“Oh.” Had it really only been this morning when she stood in the library, preaching to him about narrative closure? When she’d called this whole thing the return of the hero? “I don’t think-- I mean, I wasn’t--”

“Hold up, Doc.” His blanket slumps to his shoulders, hands flying up between them. “You don’t need to tell me shit. Just...you’re feeling better, right?”

“I...” am about to have a panic attack, she nearly says, but even as she lines up the words to be dismissed-- he doesn’t need to be worrying about her, not over something like this-- she finds they’re not longer true. “...I am. Or at least I will be. Just...need a few minutes I think.”

He shrugs. “Take ‘em. I’m not going anywhere.”

For once, she believes it. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about...all this. What happened here before--”

“Hey, hey.” The blanket unfurls as he stands, caught only by a quick clasp of his hand. “This whole thing was your secret to keep. You didn’t owe me anything.”

“But you walked into all this blind.” She sighs, breath misting into the night. “If I’d told you...”

“I’d be here anyway. Would I like to have known?” He scrapes out a laugh, jostling her elbow on the rail. “Yeah, sure. But it wouldn’t have changed anything? Nah.”

“R-really?” She blinks, the cold stinging her eyes. “But why...?”

“Because you asked, didn’t you?” There’s a sharpness to his smile, but that edge is pointed inward, pressing just hard enough draw blood. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Doc, but people don’t tend to expect a lot from me. No one but...”

You. He doesn’t say it, but it rings in the air between them, warming it more than any breeze.

“If you want to let me in on the backstory next time, I won’t stop you though.” His eyes glitter gold in the moonlight, like lights in a distant window. “Beats wondering why you jumped every time you heard a door slam in this place.”

“O-oh!” It hadn’t even crossed her mind that anyone would notice, let alone-- “S-sorry. To make you worry. What did you think--?”

“Doc, I’m gonna be real.” His chin slants down, eyes fixing on her from their corners. “I tried real hard not to think anything at all.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Even though...?”

His shoulders don’t so much shrug as fence him in, pickets right up by his ears. “I’ve seen some stuff. I just had to hope that none of it happened to you.”

He can’t want her to pry, but Obi talks about himself so little, and his past even less; she can’t help but murmur, “Stuff?”

His breath plumes over the rail, spinning and spiraling, each second of his sigh eddying into the next. “Let’s just put it this way: if it’s been me in your shoes tonight, I would have had to think a lot harder before I did the right thing. Would have gotten there eventually, but...”

This time he does shrug, too innocent for his implication. “Kino may not exactly be nice, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to be--”

“No one deserves that.” There’s not much Obi’s serious about, but he is for this, no hint of humor clinging to his mouth or hiding behind his eyes. “Preaching to the choir. But some people need a taste of their own medicine, and I’m not above letting them take a sip.”

“Obi.”

“So to speak, of course.” One hand lazily lifts from the rail, matching the hook of his smirk. “I’m not as good a person as you, Doc.”

“I don’t know about that,” she huffs, folding her cardigan tighter over her chest. “You just don’t know her like I do. When we were in high school...”

We were friends. That’s what she wants to say, at least, but it sits sour on her tongue, aging as well as milk. They’d been on the same team, sure, but when it’d come to those sleepovers, all the seniors gossiping behind their hands--

Obi’s smile softens. “Taking off some real vintage rose-colored glasses?”

“Ah, no.” She shakes her head. “More like...seeing past an old crush.”

“Oh.” It’s strange to be so close to a smile like his as it collapses, like watching one of Oma’s souffles deflate from Opa taking them out too soon . “Huh. I...hm.”

It takes a moment for her head to catch up with her mouth, to realize what she’s said, and-- “Ah, I mean...you knew that right? That I...?”

“Haah, well--” he scrubs sheepishly at his scruff, the bristle of his hair sticking up every which way-- “Kino did day something like that, but I wasn’t sure if I...er...should take that with a grain of salt...”

“She knew?” Her voice splits to shrill before she can catch its frantic fray. “I mean, I just-- that doesn’t matter. I thought you would already know, since Kiki...?”

“Yes.” His nod is almost formally stiff, the kind waiters have at the restaurants Zen takes them to. “I did. But thinking Princess is hot is just good taste. I wasn’t sure if you-- if that was a thing, or if you were--?”

“It is.” She can’t see herself, but she feels her cheeks burning, impulse plowing her forward as her courage starts to wear thin. “I am. I mean, I like both. Guys and girls. Always have.”

“Oh.” Stream streams from his lips, his fingers clutches just as pale around the rail. “You just came right out and said it, huh? That’s...good. Ah, I mean...it’s cool?”

His shoulder make a stiff horizon above his back, spine so straight it makes her own ache.

“Is that going to be okay?” It’s strange how soft she speaks, how tentative the tiptoes around her real question. “It’s not going to change anything for you?”

His head snaps up, eyes wild as they meet hers. “What? No-- what? Of course not. It’s just-- fuck, I’m really making a mess out this, huh?-- I’m not just to talking about it. This.”

Obi makes some gesture between them, a waggle of fingers that’s both confident and a call for help, and she-- she blinks. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, if that’s what you were thinking. I just...it never seemed special or anything until other people found out in high school, so I don’t really think about saying anything. If it makes you uncomfortable--”

“No, it’s not--” he gasps, frustrated more flushed than she’s ever seen him-- “I-- Me too.”

Shirayuki stares. “You like girls?”

“No!” His eyes widen. “No, wait, yeah. Obviously. Girls are hot. It’s just-- guys are good too. I mean, hot. For me. Personally.” His fingers pinch at his shoulder. “Ugh, this sounded better in my head.”

“Oh.” Her mouth pulls wide, so much it aches, but in the best way. “You mean you’re bisexual?”

“No! Wait.” His knuckles blanch bone-white where they grip the railing between them. “I mean yes. Bisexual, yeah.”

“Yes?”

“Can you just--” he puts his back to her, waving weakly over his shoulder-- “give me a minute?”

“I...” Shirayuki’s not quite sure what’s going on, but it’s-- it’s good. She knows that much. The sort of good that makes her feel as big as Mitsuhide, like she could wrap them around the world twice over and give it a squeeze. “Yes. Sure?”

“It’s just...” The tension slumps out of his shoulders, leaving a quivering mound of Obi leaning against the balustrade. “I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud. No where anyone could hear, at least.” He huffs, mist disappearing before it can waft above his shoulders. “It’s weird.”

“But you said it.” She should give him his privacy, let him be unperceived, and yet-- yet she just grins at his back. There’s a warmth in her chest, one her smile can’t control, only hold at bay. “And you said it to me.”

“Don’t read into that!” he yelps, clambering to face her. “It’s not like I meant to-- that you-- ugh, it just never seemed...”

“Welcome?” she offers, threading her hands between his on the rail.

He sighs, too close for steam. “Relevant. But here we are, I guess.”

“Yeah.” She can’t suppress her giggle. “Here we are. Two bi--”

“Cut it out,” he groans, but he can’t hide his laugh beneath it, no matter how much he tries. “It’s fine, I guess. At least now I know I never really had a chance with you.”

She blinks up at him. “What?”

“Well you know...” His grin is far too sly for comfort. “Since you have a thing for blonds.”

“Huh?” Her jaw drops, distorting the sound. “I-- I don’t! I’ve never had any physical preferences whatsoever.”

“Oh, so you don’t know about it.” His grin spreads wider, like a cookie that should have spent more time in the fridge before she let it run wild at 350. “Princess? Chief? This Kino chick? You’re telling me they don’t all have one thing in common?”

It’s with a terrible certainty that she remembers: Pavo’s blond too. A detail she’ll take to her grave now. “Looks don’t matter to me.”

“That’s not what the data says, Doc.” Obi lets loose a whistle that puts every hair up on end. “Bossman better keep you away from the Big Cheese, huh? Who knows what you’ll do.”

She snatches her hands back from the rail. “Keep my hands to myself, clearly.”

“Sure, sure.” He leans back, hips settling against his own balustrade, near where she hunches on hers. The stars are bright above them, the way they only get when it’s cold, like little chips of diamond in velvet. “Bet you’re wishing he was here, huh?”

“Izana?”

“Nah, nah. Funny that’s where your head went though.” His shoulder nudges hers, and she allows herself a glower, as a treat. “I meant Zen. Boyfriends are probably better for this whole trauma thing, instead of...whatever I’m suppose to be.”

She leans back, watching him. “That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

“That’s because you’re too nice,” he tells her, grin not sitting quite right on his lips. “I bet he misses you, you know? We’ve only been here a few days, but it feels like forever. I think I might even miss him snapping at me.”

Shirayuki blinks, the last puzzle piece slipping into place. Guys are good too, for me, Obi had said, just moments ago, and now here he is, conjuring Zen between them. It’s sweet, really. “He’s probably missing us just as much.”

Obi rolls his head across his shoulders to hand-deliver his glare. “Doc, this is where you’re supposed to say you miss him.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t aware there was a script for sharing crushes. “Am I? I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, while you gaze all wistfully up at the stars.” He juts a hand in their direction. “It’s a whole thing with star-crossed lovers.”

Her brow furrows. “We’re not lovers. And if we were, I certainly wouldn’t want to be star-crossed.”

“Well, you’re close enough on both counts. Anyway.” He levers himself up from the rail. “I should get to bed. You too, Doc. All good little scientists need their eight hours.”

“It’s seven to eight, depending on the length of your sleep cycle.” She looks back to meet his amused expression. “But, er, thanks. I will. Goodnight, Obi.”

He hesitates, one hand wrapped around the jamb. “Night, Doc.”

And just like that, he’s gone; just her and a hundred thousand flaming light glinting over her head. Shirayuki takes in a deep breath, letting the chill prickle at her lungs.

“We can do this,” she murmurs, fingers cold when she curls them into her palms. “I mean, what else could go wrong?”

[mademoiselle-red]

Top 5 beverages!

Turkish coffee, but as a pour over

A controversial opinion, I know, but hear me out: I find traditionally brewed Turkish coffee a little too strong and bitter for my tastes, but I absolutely love buying ground Turkish coffee (without cardamon, another controversial opinion, forgive me) from the Asian grocery store and making it into a pour over at home. The result is a much milder version that still retains the spicy flavors of the coffee, but with none of the bitterness, and it goes down very smoothly with a dash of milk. Plus, no coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup to deal with once you are done, since it’s all been filtered out!

Italian Hot Chocolate

Let me set the scene for you: it was an afternoon in late December, between Christmas and New Years. My traveling companion, an archaeologist, had enthusiastically dragged me away from the shopping district that I was quite happy to find myself in and set us out on a long trek to some obscure church so she could show me a mural that I “simply have to see”. We arrive at the old church and learn that the final entry of the day was 20 minutes ago. Deflated, cold, and hungry, we walked through the streets of Milan, heading back to the neighborhood our hotel was in to look for dinner. It was getting dark, and it started to rain. We turned a street corner and saw a dazzling sight: a beautiful cafe with a white storefront, lights glowing from its large windows illuminating the marble tables within. As we pushed in the heavy doors, we were greeted by the smell of hot chocolate, and the menu above the white marble counter confirmed our senses: this was a chocolate bar, offering a dozen different flavors of Italian hot chocolate. I ordered one with dark chocolate, hazelnut, and whipped cream. A few minutes later, it arrived on my table. It was heaven in a cup. A very small glass cup (only a third of the normal serving size typical here in America) in which one could see thick black-brown liquid chocolate, topped with rich whipped cream (a little over-whipped, on the buttery side, which is exactly how I like it), and crushed hazelnut drizzle. It was glorious. I bit into the whipped cream, sucked in the hot chocolate in one big slurp, felt the thick lava-like liquid roll down my throat, and relished in the warmth that spread as it passed through my chest. It was much more bitter than American hot chocolates, and richer in flavor, with a nutty almost caramel-like aftertaste. This was the first time in my life where I wished I could stick my tongue into a cup and lick the inside clean.

Hot Apple Cider with whipped cream and cinnamon

This one is a winter classic in Germany. I first had it in Berlin on a bright sunny day in a cafe attached to a beautiful cemetery that I’d scrolled through that morning. It was the first time I had whipped cream with apple cider, and it made the entire thing feel extremely indulgent and i think it helped bring out the natural sweet-sour taste of the apples, add in the cinnamon and you have liquid apple pie in a cup 🤤

Riesling

IT IS THE BEST WHITE WINE (although Retsina is a close second). And the brands that are usually available at my local store in the states suck 😭😭😭. A good Riesling should be slightly sour, slightly sweet (the bad ones are usually too sweet), and dry. Riesling is the perfect summer drink, good for picnics in the sun, or dinner out on the balcony, with seafood, arugula / rucola, and white asparagus (with ham and hollandaise sauce, of course)

Japanese-Style Whisky Highball

Ice, whisky, and soda water (and maybe a dash of lemon to change it up). It tastes fantastic. Perfect for every season. Easy to make at home, great to order in restaurants and bars. It’s especially great with yakiniku or any kind of barbecue / grilled meat dish. I also tried a Shochu version of this in a canned bottle from 7-11 in Japan.

[mybloodyfamousprophets]

i hope you ate on your 7 hour drive from the 6ix, islands far, truck stop the busses skip, pay twenty dollar ticket, get away for a weekend,

walk on through historic city, jacques cartier looks so pretty, our own little slice, copy of Paris, ligne orange a montmorency, blue line trains not fancy, changer snowdon go east, climb a mountain, watch sunsetz clouds burn out like the darts hitting, you spent your life hidden, found out what you’d been missing, spotlight Mount Royal eye, clubs bouncing city lights, head back downtown avoid fights, hit the Saint Laurent tonight, drinks flowing, your good times, look across the bar with starstruck eyes, that boys outfit is cuter than mine, but tonight i won’t have the time,

came here first you were just a kid, city felt magic we got snowed in, eating cheapest street poutine, those were really simple days, no boys backstabbers frauds or fakes, just a teacher that you hate, punish you alone i call that hate, you never talked back, no stand up show up for yourself, misguided alone on a bad path you fell, no good friends to lift you out of that hell, but you’re not that kid and now you’re well, different, but you saw the city and you got addicted

a few years later we drive on back, too broke for Adirondack, mom takes you off the leash to roam, and you almost bought a ticket home, but explore on your own and take in the sights, a city so close but different from mine, change your language all the time, guys smoking weed and cops don’t fine, didnt have a boy i could call mine, just 14 but you were longing, feel like you weren’t belonging, some new clothes renewed your hope but you still begged, throw me a rope, you were too serious, i’m not serious enough, you were jaded, now I’m faded off the pot, you were sippin, vodka, civics class was hot, im no different, just changed it up a notch,

icy winter, but i’m a little older now, thanks for frosh week, went with new friends, it was pretty sweet, stared at Van Gogh, moving picture on the wall, high feel the stars that circle the hall, not here with you, but i let myself enjoy it all, long line smoked meat, famous deli, and then we leave on down the street, i know my way in this city, Apple Maps try and lie to me, bus downtown busy streets, then we stayed in the room that night, drinking Whitney till the sun rise, one more shot on the count of ten, passing out in the bathroom bin, drunken mess dragged into bed, can’t remember what you said, drunk and i was feeling red, wishing i was holding… no, i can’t say his name.

racers weekend, rene levesque looks red hot, jean drapeau all blocked off, rainy days forecast still stayed hot, see these streets i walk a lot, but im here on my own shot, booked this trip to see him, city he was gonna be in, but i asked him when he’s free and he never sent that text to me, stayed with a friend we went to check out ACC, have a good drink but i prefer to smoke, so did he, i take another toke, what a joke, stayed with her but my boys at home, still, never came with me, i guess it’s good he couldn’t ruin my favourite city, running away REM faster than highway, make my great escape, or maybe one day, i walked by that jacques cartier, same spot i saw as a kid that day, teacher heard ipod in pocket headphones played, tales of scary ghosts and gays, spot where memories were made, i talk to none of them anymore, times passed years before

weekend trip you, came with your best friend, roommates kicked out by hotel [can’t name due to ongoing legal battle], wouldn’t leave them out on the streets, moved new hotel, now my friend is feeling groovy so we go to gay bars, smoothie, fruit salad in the room, beyonce or abba go and pick a tune, or some awful showtune we don’t feel glee, i only know Hamilton mcmaster university, or queen elizabeth, granted, not the monarch, burning filtered lights and my hands are up, burn my lungs and cross my heart, on the balcony and I’m singing, baby, did you even really love me?

one days time is, never enough, to catch this city from the window on a bus, metro underground rolling around, taking over every cool spot in town, meet a new guy old one got mean, can’t tell if he’s just, playing with me, headphones brown hair, see him some, here n there, want more, give me some fun!

one days time is, never enough, stayed in anjou, far from the fun, cross province drank the same time as me, we both threw up so dizzy, fireball my throat is burning, keele’d over on college street, he’s on the floor, breakup Whitney, and we called a cab at like, 10 past 3, friends lift him into bed, i tumbled into the back, seat, flashing lights passing by me, ride or die by my side, known since my home town that’s a long time, one won’t ask a girl cause he’s too shy, not my guy, i tried to hang out but he wouldn’t slide, don’t like sliding no pinball, no arcade, but tokens on me, already paid, if he wanted to entertain he would’ve answered differently, unless i took that wrongly, RAADS test score one thirty, sometimes need help socially, love to talk i’m maturing, smokes with strangers in places i do things i regret, manifest his text but i couldn’t read his name

still spent his time playing games, respond “i like you maybe”, no initiate or make time for me, maybe he just isn’t for me, or he’s too shy or I’m too boring, chasing men that don’t adore me, or even boys that just talk to me, tell me come through you know im moving, unless there’s a death or a dinner I can’t miss, rare family moments that sometimes exist, or friends from far places that make the adventure, and you can’t even send a text message, or just come around, this big campus town, stand on a rooftop and stare at the ground, the pond and the ducks a rare city scene, can’t look in your eyes ill get lost again

[spaces0ngs]

The cat , dark against pale sheets sat dead center large bed , preoccupied with grooming soft pads of his paws. Deimos was far too regal , too lovely to grace the idiot that come ah' stumblin' through his own door smellin' like utter trash. He turned up his little cat nose at the stupid creature feedin' him. Pearly gray hues skated back and forth between his paws and the body slumped knocking over things on the nightstand in a bid to get at something. Upon closer consideration , he saw fuck all. Annoyance set his attention elsewhere , but it kept comin' right back 'round again. He lifted his nose to smell at the air , filtering out all the sweat and grime permeating the air around him and flinching when the iron tang hit the back of his throat.

He could practically taste the blood in the air. He thought to ignore him again , endeavor to steal his belt buckles on his way out. What did he care? He wasn't supposed to be in here anyhow. but he did feed him ... often. Deimos huffed his frustration. Paw rose up above feline head, swiping at the air , peeling away gossamer shroud with humanoid hands. Elegance of the feline form stretching long and languid into human-shaped body. Lifting up onto knees , long limbs lowered knuckles to the carpet , one after another back arched in unnatural curve of the spine until a knee thumped the floor.

He hovered over the other just enough to see what they were doing. Jumbled words falling head over ass to get out his big fuckin' mouth , he could make out quick draw and thank god for piss poor aim.

“ You’re slurring. ”

IT WAS STUPID this was the issue with these big cities, with getting a proper room instead of some hovel like they usually do. in big cities people know all about the bounty heads, they watch the news religiously and have access to the constantly updating magazines and bounty lists. but iris misses comfort. although the blue cow was by no means luxurious, just a small and slightly outdated ship, they still had their own room. iris doesn't let themselves dream of their childhood home at all, the spacious saloon room with posters of the same cowboys who are chasing them down now. the blue cow is safer, though it doesn't hurt less. it is why, coming into some money, they splurged on an actual hotel. WELL, GOOD RIDDANCE GETTING THE DEPOSIT BACK and they did try so hard. even smoked on the balcony. but now there's definitely blood in the carpet.

HANDS FUMBLE AS THEY TRY TO GET THE DRAWER OPEN. whiskey, gauze; the wound is mostly superficial and just a tear across their thigh but it hurts like a bitch. at least they don't have to dig out a bullet like last time in the bathtub. they completely forget about their feline visitor, focused on sliding down the wall and hissing through their breath as they poured the alcohol onto the wound. until a distinctly human face began to hover above them. ❛ what the   ❜ eyes close, blink open again, ❛ what the fuck, am i hallucinating ?   ❜ they mumble under their breath.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Please please please can we see Joanne reacting to the Chris saves himself au???

The Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two | Three

CW: Whumper POV, abusive family member, ableist, ableism, pet whump universe

Jo's sitting at an outdoor cafe, sipping a hot cup of fresh coffee while the ocean beats against the Hawaiian sand. She's waiting on her breakfast and has a book open in front of her she has yet to read.

The sky and the water are nearly the same blue. It's dazzling. She can't take her eyes off it.

She's here for work, helping with getting a newly-opened WRU Facility off the ground. There have been protests, of course - Hawaiians have protested WRU making inroads pretty viciously, and Jo is glad for the secret employee entrance she uses so that the residents of this place don't know who she works for. Still, WRU is paying for the extended-stay hotel and three meals a day, and her nephew's inheritance pays for the drinks.

She cuts the thought before his face can enter her mind.

She dreams about him slumped over, mumbling about how tired he was, sometimes. Once the sedatives kicked in, anyway. She'd been irritated the first round didn't seem to work, and then worried she'd accidentally overdosed him after the second.

But no. No, the Acquisitions team had assured her he would be considered in perfect condition. And her finder's fee and bonus had really emphasized that he was.

Whatever. That problem is solved.

Joanne sighs, wistful. There are already people in the water, even at dawn. She can hear laughter filtering up from the beach.

It's beautiful.

Ronnie would have loved Hawaii. They had always planned to go together, before their falling-out.

Too bad her fucking husband and stupid brat dragged her down with them. Too bad the husband was a shitheel Irish mob asshole, too bad Ronnie's son was a piece of fucking work, too bad the stupid bastard couldn't stay hidden the one time it counted...

Joanne sniffs and wipes at the corner of her eye. Grief is hard - it comes and goes. But at least Tristan isn't her problem any longer.

He's probably happy as a clam doing someone's fucking gardening somewhere. Joanne simply refuses to admit that isn't at all what he is likely to be used for. It doesn't matter.

What she doesn't know, she isn't legally responsible for.

Lost in her thoughts, Joanne doesn't notice the uniformed officers who enter the cafe behind her. She takes a photo of the morning sun as an officer holds up a photocopied piece of paper to the server behind the counter. She posts the phot to her Instagram with #islandliving is the life for me! as the server points her direction and the officer nods and thanks them for their help.

She has missed calls and texts on her phone, but she'll check those later. Jo never looks at her phone before 8 am anymore. It makes everything much more peaceful.

She sees the first couple likes trickle in as the officer speaks to his partner and the two of them head her direction.

"Joanne Botham?"

She's startled out of her thoughts by the officer's voice and looks up to blink at the woman, her straight black hair in a low ponytail and expression stern. Jo feels an instinctive beat of apprehension. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you, officer?"

The officer has an odd look to her. Not hostile, but... not friendly. "Joanne Botham, resides at 435 Janus Way, in Berras, California? Employed by WRU?"

Her heart beats faster and Jo sets her phone down. Then picks up her coffee. "Yes. Is something wrong with my house?"

"No. Do you recognize this individual?"

The officer holds up another printed out photo and Jo's stomach falls to her knees and firmly lodges there. She drops her coffee, mug shattering on the floor, ceramics and liquid everywhere. The officer doesn't even flinch.

It's her fucking nephew.

It's Tristan in a hospital bed, looks like, staring at the camera with wide uncomprehending eyes. His hair is shorter than it used to be, and there is a ring of bruising around his neck, more bruises littered over his collarbone and shoulders.

She has a sudden wild urge to say she's never seen him before. Instead, she swallows and repeats the story she's practiced over and over until she's sure she can pass any lie detector test. "Yes. That's my late sister's son, Tristan. He ran away after their deaths. I thought he was dead."

The officer doesn't argue, just nods. "I see. Well, Ms. Botham, what would you say if I told you that your nephew is alive?"

Jo looks carefully, believably surprised. "He is? Where did you find him? I looked everywhere I could think of!"

"Did you?" The way the officer asks the question tells Jo there is a piece of the puzzle she hasn't seen yet... and it won't be something she likes. "Well, you'll be relieved to hear he was found alive."

"Yes... yes, I am. Relieved."

She's furious.

That little shit is going to ruin her life all over again, isn't he? She'll set his inheritance on fire before she lets him see a dollar. WRU was supposed to make it so she never saw him again.

She should have kept him locked in his room and left him there.

"I'll fly back home right away to see him," She says, a distant ringing filling her mind. "Where is he?"

"Your nephew is receiving medical care. Let's head down to the station. I'll fill you in on the details when we get there."

"Well-... Of course, officer, but I need to call my workplace-"

"We are already in contact with WRU, Ms. Botham. They are aware that you will not be in to work today. A WRU representative will be at the station."

Joanne takes in a breath and slowly lets it out. "I... I need a lawyer, don't I?"

"That's up to you, ma'am. All we want to do is talk. Please come with me." The officer steps back and gestures. Joanne stands, and the beauty of the day is suddenly lost on her entirely.

"Am I being charged with something?" Her voice is faint, suddenly. She swallows hard. "Am I being-"

"The only charged so far are laid against Governor Oliver Branch, ma'am."

"Against who?"

"Ma'am. Please come with me." There's a hand on her elbow and Joanne stumbles along. At the counter, the server is taping this, streaming it live. Jo glances up at the television over in the corner ceiling to see a news anchor talking about a WRU-branded human pet falling out of a balcony at the California governor's mansion and the resulting scandal.

Joanne thinks of all those missed calls on her phone.

"They're blaming me, aren't they?" She asks, coming to a sudden stop on the sidewalk outside. "They're blaming me! I'm going to be the fall guy, right?"

"Get in the car, Ms. Botham," The officer says firmly. One hand moves to her hip. "We can discuss this at the station."

Joanne sees the server with their phone out, following. The stupid little ass is smiling. They think this is funny.

It occurs to Jo they knew who she worked for all along.

She turns and with wild eyes yells, "WRU knew! I did nothing wrong! They knew!"

She's going to need one hell of a lawyer.

She's going to need a miracle.

She suddenly wishes she hadn't spent so much of Tristan's money. She could've used it for her legal fees.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @whumpfessional