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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

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Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

2K notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

starry night | chris beck

word count; 9241

summary; chris beck delivers flowers to you five times.

notes; this was originally called ‘candy cane lane’, but I changed it up a little.

warnings; none!

When Chris had started working in a flower shop, it was to pay his way through college. He was getting a degree in medicine and it wasn't cheap, and he needed a simple and easy way to make cash that wouldn't take too much out of him. He wasn’t big on anything social, and so working in a bar or restaurant didn’t seem like the best fit, and unfortunately for him, all the library jobs had been snapped up at the beginning of the year. Supermarkets were a no go, he hated the people that came through and how rude some of them could be, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get a job in a coffee shop.

Working those machines might as well be rocket science.

The little flower store on the end of his campus road had been hiring, and eventually, he’d become desperate. It wasn’t his usual gig, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, to begin with, but it offered decent money, reasonably flexible hours, and the boss actually let him study on shift when it was quiet, and so it actually gave him more free time than he had before getting a job.

Then, he’d started to warm up to it. It was always cool in the summer and warmer in the winter, keeping it temperate for the plants, and it always smelt good. He made friends with a man named Mark who came in every so often to buy new plants to study, he was becoming a botanist, and they bonded over the serene quietness of flower shops for studying and bad jokes.

Little old ladies pinched his cheeks, the tips were good, and it helped him clear his thoughts to be able to do menial tasks like spray the flowers with water every other hour to keep them wet enough, and to sit behind the cash registers. It was a simple Christmas present from said botanist friend that really inspired his passion, though. More of a gag gift, he was sure that was its intention, but he’d started to take it seriously. Chapter after chapter on the meanings of flowers, how to send hidden messages through plants, and something about the way of communicating in ways other than words had spoken to him.

After that, he’d been able to offer a service of sending messages through flowers. He’d become a more popular salesperson, and he’s shifts had increased, and he loved doing it. He loved the physical way that a message could be conveyed, beautiful explosions of colour to mean ‘I love you’ or ‘Happy Anniversary’, and so he’d started to invest his time in that. Nobody had been all that surprised when the older man who ran the shop had left it to him when he passed, not even Chris himself, and so he’d finished up his degree and started working at the flower shop full time.

Mark had taken on a part-time job there, as well as his internship in a clinical research lab, and they’d hired an extra hand at the register. It made him happy.

Less so, when he had an influx of orders overnight, and instead had to focus on building bouquets to be shipped instead of the garden expansion he was making, but happy nonetheless.

He was twenty-seven custom orders in, Mark already out running the standard bouquets for delivery, and he was stacking them by the garage door, wrapped in ribs and pretty vase-boxes, all ready to go. Licking the tip of his finger to flick the paper over, he let out a sigh, two sets of flowers on one page, his rows raising. It wasn’t unusual for there to be multiple sets on one order form, but as his eyes scanned over the list of preferences, scents and colours, as well as the messages they were wishing to convey, one of his brows rose up.

One request for the pretty set of pink roses and lilies that he’d loving crafted himself, a collection of flowers that signified an apology, and he was always happy to offer advice to any guys who came into the store to buy that set. It was usually a guy fresh to a relationship, messed something up by refusing to unfollow another girl on Instagram, or just saying the wrong thing in front of his friends, introducing a girl as his friend, that one always made him giggle. The second was curious, though, and it made his lips quirk up in a slight smirk at the insinuation of it. Red roses and tulips, a darker and more seductive bunch; new beginnings and early love, and he was willing to place his last dollar on it being an affair.

It felt even more sure when he noticed that the delivery address was that of an office block, and not a home address, a man’s name instead of a woman’s. In the personal notes section, there were no names, and so that was an option ruled out for getting to the bottom of the situation, but he wrote out gift cards, one with swirling writing for a heartfelt apology and the other with a sickly-sweet pick-up line and what he assumed to be an inside joke.

Curled ribbons and plastic wrapping, and the two bouquet were standing side by side for delivery, the van chugging as it was pulled back into the driveway, reversed up, and his blond-haired friend rounding the vehicle, looking utterly worn out, and it was only halfway through the day.

“You’d think it was Valentine’s Day, or something. This is crazy, it’s November!”

He took off his cap, running a hand over his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, before placing the embroidered garment with the company logo back onto his head. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up!”

“Oh, yeah? Is it the rest of the day off?”

“Uh, no.” He deadpanned, his friend laughing as he came to stand by him, and he motioned towards the collection. “However, it is a rather exciting combination. These two-” He tapped at the boxes holding them firm at the base. “-are going to the same place.”

“And that is exciting why, exactly?”

“Because one is supposed to symbolise asking for forgiveness and all that, and the other symbolises new love and beginnings and all that. They’re being delivered to an office block, not a home address.” It took Mark a minute to process it, and Chris watched the gears turn in his friend’s head, before his jaw was dropping, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Oh, and you think it’s a.. y’know.” He only nodded, and he began to load up the other orders into the van, a printout sheet of new addresses and order numbers on the tags, the delivery sheets loaded onto a clipboard to be signed for at each location. The empty van was once again teeming with bright flowers and artfully arranged bundles. Securing them all down and making sure they wouldn't tip over or get crushed during the ride there, he was confident they were ready to go, almost all of them set up, before he was staring at the two he’d recently made once again, his curiosity getting the better of him. “You want me to try and find out while I’m there?”

He almost agreed, it would have been so easy, a simple way to put his questions to rest, but he was invested in it now, and so he already knew what was coming. “No, I’ll deliver these ones myself.

Mark only nodded, slamming and locking the back of the van doors, double-checking the hatches for fresh air were open to stop them from wilting in transit, and then he was back up into the main cabin. The loud sounds of disco music exploding from the van radio as he started it back up, reversing from the driveway and setting off on his next round of deliveries.

Scooping up the first set in his arms, Chris patted down his pockets in search for his keys, finding them in his left side back pocket, unlocking his car with a click of a button, and setting the first batch on the passenger seat. The second soon followed, and he used the seatbelt to secure them in place, rolling the windows down as he set off, programming the address into his SatNav.

It was a short drive, twenty minutes maximum, even with traffic, the tall and shining office building one that he was vaguely familiar with towards the inside of the city, harsh rays of winter sun reflecting off of clean glass windows, all the way up to the top floor, and it was so tall that as he stared at it, he swore the building was swaying. With a bouquet in each arm and the clipboard tucked under one, he backed his way through the polished glass doors, a company insignia printed onto the glass, and he almost wanted to check his shoes for traces of at the appearance of the clean white lobby.

Large tiles of marble flooring, specks of grey flickering throughout them, and white leather couches along some of the walls on one side of the lobby, a waiting room. The other had various coffee and tea machines, recyclable cups and sugar packets, as well as a range of fruits and muffins, and he wanted to scoff a little at the ostentatious nature of it all. The desk was empty as he finally approached, though he could hear chatter in the background, behind reflective glass panels that he couldn’t see through, one-way glass he assumed, and as he balanced the bouquets up on the counter, an older woman, approaching her fifties he presumed, came out, a wide smile on her face as she brushed down the material of her skirt.

“My, my, aren’t those beautiful? Unfortunately, I don’t think they’re for me.”

“Well, ma’am, unless you’re a ‘Mr Robert McKinley’, I’d have to agree.” She chuckled, nodding her head as she looked at them before picking up the phone, and typing in an extension. Lifting it to her ear, she balanced it there against her shoulder, smiling at him once again.

“I’ll just have his assistant come down to collect them and sign for them for you, lovely.” He nodded his head, turning away to be polite as she chatted away on the phone for only a moment, confirming that there was a package to be sorted out, and he twisted back to look at her as she put the phone down. Manicured nails tapped at the desk for only as second, an awkward silence forming, and one of the elevators let out a small ‘dinging’ sound as it was clicked into use, the numbers on the screen above the floor counting down, coming all the way from the twenty-eighth floor. “Would you like a candy?”

He jumped a little, turning back to look at the woman who had now sat down a little distance from him, behind the computer at the desk, and she turned to him, raising up a bowl of neatly wrapped candies, and placing it up on the glass counter for him to reach. He didn’t, but she was staring at him expectantly, and so he plucked the first one from the bowl, offering her a simple nod of his head, and tucking it into the pocket on his shirt.

When a chime sounded throughout the lobby, the sound echoing off of every hard surface, Chris’ attention was drawn to the clicking of heels on the smooth stone flooring. A pretty blouse that looked like it cost more than his entire outfit and a fitted pencil skirt that was sitting just below your knees, your were a professional vision. Except, your hair was a little messy, and there was a wide grin on your face as you typed rapidly on your phone, not even needing to look up to do the walk, but your expression made you look much more approachable than the usual businesswoman.

You clicked off your phone only a few feet away from him, looking up as your gaze went straight to the flowers at his side instead of him, but it gave Chris the chance to take you in just for a moment, and fully observe you, Up close, you were even prettier, soft skin and pretty hair that shined under the lights, and whatever the shade of lipstick was that you were wearing was perfect, because it suited you like it had been made for you.

You reached out, straight past him for a second, and the receptionist gasped, reaching for the bowl of candy, but you were quicker, your hand scooping up a little collection of the sweets and pulling them back, a sound of victory sounding from you, and she mumbled under her breath playfully, rolling her eyes and threatening to start hiding the treats before she ran out, but you only chuckled, unwrapping one and placing it against your tongue, lips brushing your fingers as you turned to him, and he forced his eyes away from your mouth, a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, wow. Check these out.” You turned to the receptionist, motioning to them, and she only nodded her head, the sounds of a printer firing up in the back room, and she disappeared to collect the sheets, leaving the pair of you alone. “For Mr McKinley?”

You leaned over the counter, snatching up a pen from the other side, and he only nodded, producing the collection sheet, and pointing out the spot that needed singing, the scraping of the pen on paper filling the silence as you signed in both boxes, handing it back to him and tucking the pen behind your ear. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Fire away.” You grinned, unwrapping another candy, leaving the wrapper on the glass alongside the other one, a cheeky move he was sure you’d get reprimanded for by the receptionist who kept a beautifully organised and clean desk and foyer.

“There are two bouquets here, both with flowers that have very different meanings. Can I ask why?”

You hummed, staring at him for a minute as you chewed slowly, before swallowing the sweet in your mouth and smirking slightly. “I’ll answer your question, but only if you answer mine first; what do the flowers mean?”

Chris grinned, unable to hold it in, because he loved getting to talk about his passions, especially when he could show off a little in front of a pretty lady, and he nodded his head. “Pink roses and lilies are an apology, but red roses with tulips are for new love.”

“And do you have any theories?”

“Just the one, but I’m waiting for it to be confirmed.” He chuckled a little at the devious look that flashed over your features as you pulled the red roses bundle toward you, nose pressed into them for a second as you inhaled deeply, a little sigh leaving you afterwards.

“I’m trusting you here, but you’re cute, so I’ll tell you.” Heat rushed to his cheeks, head ducking for just a second, before he was looking back up to catch your gaze, brows raised as he waited excitedly, leaning in to meet you as though a scandalous secret was about to be told, and he supposed that’s exactly what it was. “There’s another receptionist, and intern back in there, fresh out of college, just a year below me, and he’s definitely fucking her.” You tapped a finger against the red roses, before your gaze was flicking to the second bunch, still by his arm as he leaned on the counter. “However, a couple of days ago he had a lunch date scheduled with his wife, and he missed it. I couldn’t find him anywhere, and I couldn’t find the intern either. Not hard to connect the dots.”

“Oh, so he’s covering both of his bases?”

“For sure.” You grinned, backing up a little bit to grab the second bundle, and adjusting them in your arms for balance. “Angie had probably realised too, and dashed in there to tell the girl that she’s got flowers coming.”

You were making your way over to the elevators, and he followed after you, pressing the button to summon the lift, and it hummed to life behind closed metal doors. “You know, since we just became partners in crime, maybe I should get to know your name?”

“Well, that was smooth.” You laughed, the doors opening up, and you stepped inside, placing one bouquet on the floor at your feet and holding onto the other. You caved, giving him your name as he placed his hand over the door to stop them from closing, ad he repeated the name to you, testing it on his tongue as he learnt it. He gave you his own in return when he asked, and when you said it back, his smile widened, already liking the way his name sounded coming for you.

You typed a code into the pad on the wall of the elevator, the screen flashing green as your programming was accepted, and he stepped back, grinning as you waved your fingers at him, the doors closing as you disappeared from view. He snatched up his clipboard on the way out, unable to contain the smile on his face.

Chris Beck hated making deliveries, but this one hadn't been so bad.

There was a genuine smile on his face as he stepped through the glass doors of the lobby, smaller and simpler bouquets this time, both matching and nothing special, but he’d tasked himself with delivering them personally because he’d recognised the name and address immediately, his encounter with the cute assistant he’d met only two weeks prior flashing through his mind as he’d insisted on delivering this order himself, Mark smirking and helping him gather the flowers as soon as he’d spilled all about you.

Now, he had two sets of pretty pink flowers in different shades, and a single red rose in a sleek plastic wrapping, all wraith ribbons wrapped around them were bundled in one arm, the other holding onto his clipboard, and the desk was once again empty as he approached. A bell, sleek and shining silver, and it was a new addition, definitely not present last time, and he eyes it suspiciously for a moment, before pressing a finger against the top lightly, just twice, a little ringing sounding out around the lobby.

A head of curly hair popped out from around the glass, much younger than the previous assistant, and wearing a much tighter skirt, and she grinned widely as she stepped forwards. He couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, fiery red hair and a wide smile, lips painted with red lipstick, and she seemed sweet, but far too intimidating for him to ever consider. Her heels were so tall that he wondered how she even walked in them, long and thin points creating the stilettos.

“Flowers?”

There was an eager tone to her voice, and he put the pieces of the puzzle together, assuming this to be the intern, his eyes flicking down to her name badge for a second, reading it as ‘Clara’. “For Mr McKinley. Is his assistant free tom come and sign for them?”

The woman paused, rolling her lips a little and nodding her head, a coy look on her features before sitting down in the chair and spinning in it to face the phone, lifting it up to her ear and dialling a short connection number. He didn’t seem to need to wait long, before she was summoning you, a ‘flower delivery’ to be claimed, and she was far too excited, only confirming his doubts that this was definitely the mistress. “She’ll be right down.”

“Fantastic.” He wasn’t sure she even processed his words, before her eyes were closing in on the flowers, and he ignored it, turning back to look at the elevator, waiting for the number on the twenty-eighth floor to light up, a number flashing over the screen. It paused on its descent this time, stopping at the eighteenth floor, and then again at the twelfth, and he assumed that somebody else had joined the journey for a short while.

When the doors finally opened, you weren’t built typing away this time, a grin on your face as your eyes swept over the entrance for him, and he waved his fingers again, straightening up from the desk.

“It’s my partner in crime, back again.”

“Missed you too much, just had to return.”

“Of course, you did, because I’m awesome.” You came to a stop before him, peering up at him through bright eyes, and he swallowed thickly, a little nervous but very excited, and he tried to remember any of what Mark had taught him, his friend being far better with the women than he was, and everything from the last-minute crash course he’d been given upon leaving the shop forty-five minutes ago seemed to have gone blank. “So, what really brings you here today?”

You gasped a little as he shifted to show you the collection, sliding the clipboard closer, and you were presented with a pen from him, floral patterning woven along the body, your thumb clicking it on to sign for them. When you passed it back, you shared a look with him, both of your glances flicking over to the intern who was still admiring the flowers, completely oblivious.

“Hey, Clara?” Her head snapped up, pale skin heating with colour as she flushed, and he suppressed a chuckle. “Mr McKinley is in meetings all afternoon, but he’ll want to approve these flowers. Can you put them in water, and I’ll call to have them sent up when he’s ready?”

She only nodded, more than happy to take a gift that she knew one of was for her into the back, hands reaching over to gather them all up. He almost missed it, watching as all of the flowers were taken, too busy watching the way you rolled your eyes at her when she looked away, fond but still a little cool, and he bit at the inside of his cheek to contain his amusement. It was just as she was leaving that his mind cleared, and he cleared his throat.

“Wait, wait, hold on!” She turned back, brows raised, and he reached over, letting her take a step forwards so that he could reach, plucking the single rose from where it was laying over the top of the two. “This, uh, this is actually for you.”

He presented it to you, your eyes widening a little, and you looked between him and the flower several times. His heart was in his throat, worry you were going to reject it, before you were giving him a different smile than he had seen yet, something softer and more endearing, and you plucked it from his hands, bringing it to your nose. “You’re just a big flirt, huh, Chris?” Your eyes fluttered for a moment, before you were looking back up to him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, honestly. I own the shop, the least I can do is give my partner in crime a pretty flower.”

You scoffed, but it was out of friendship and playfulness, not judgement or rejection, and silence fell between you both once again. The plastic in your hands wrinkled as you twirled it, wrapping the curled ribbon around your finger for a second, and letting it jump back into place when you let it go. “You busy? Got a packed store to run back to?”

Your question caught him off-guard, and he struggled to find words for a second, before clearing his throat and shaking his head. “No, uh, no. Clear day, actually. This was the last order.”

“So, you’re free for an hour or so?” Chris nodded his head, licking at his lips as he became a little nervous once again. “Well, why don’t I give you a tour? We’ve got some pretty cool stuff here, and I’ll fix you up with a drink from the coffee bar before you go.”

“This building has a coffee bar?”

“You bet it does.” You teased, turning on your heel as you took his question as acceptance, and he scooped up the clipboard, following after you as you made your way to the elevator, and this time when it opened, he stepped inside with you. As soon as the keypad lit up, prompting you to enter your four-digit authorisation code and make a floor selection, and you paused, finger hovering over the electronic selections. “What do you wanna’ see first, then?”

“You got an office?”

“I sure do.” You grinned, tapping for the twenty-eighth floor, and the machinery soon hummed into life, gears jerking smoothly into motion and soft music playing over the speakers in the background.

The ride was quiet, and he twisted his head as though the walls were interesting, just to take them in and hide the expression on his face as he watched you twirl the rose he’d given you between your fingers. There was a tag, one that he hadn't yet seen you read, and while all it contained was his number and a sign of his name, he was still a little nervous for your reaction to it, so he was glad to watch you place it onto your desk to be returned to later as you showed him around.

The building truly was impressive, large floor to ceiling glass windows on one wall of your office, staring out at the city below and giving a view so stunning and far that he could see all the way out to where the concrete faded away into greenery along the horizon, and he was a little taken aback by it all. Dipping the rose into a mug of water from the office kitchen, you promised to transfer it to a vase when you got home that evening, and you showed him all around.

Up and down on the elevator, proudly showing him every aspect of your workplace, and somewhere between the in-house gym and the coffee bar you’d boasted of in the staff food courts, you’d made him promise a tour of the flower shop sometime.

Way over an hour had passed in total, and he would’ve been more than happy to let that go on and on, for the rest of the day until the sun was setting, just to sit on the stools at the high tables at the coffee bar, getting refills on his coffee as he watched you drink herbals teas and chat about everything you got up to in the day, but your boss was paging you again to ask where you were, and he had his own job to return to at some point. You seemed hesitant at first, but had eventually divulged him with a guest security code for the elevator, logging him under your name, so that in future, he would be able to bring the flowers straight upstairs to you, and come and see you whenever he stopped by.

With a to-go cup in hand that had your number written on the cardboard holder, you’d escorted him all the way back to the lobby, pressing a friendly kiss to his cheek as he stepped between the doors, waving a little with what he knew was a goofy smile, waiting until he could no longer see you as the metal doors slid shut to reflect his image back at him, before he was bidding the two women at the reception desk a goodbye, and pretending not to know that they were eavesdropping, because he was floating far too high to care right now.

Chris hadn't been surprised at all when the next batch of flowers had come through, because you’d told him days prior that he could be expecting another batch of apology flowers to come through. Your work had been busy lately, you’d told him so yourself the few weeks that had slid past since you’d exchanged numbers had been filled with an abundance of texts.

Sharing texts had rapidly become phone calls in downtime, exchanging social media and sending one another dumb jokes and funny pictures throughout your workdays. He knew that your job had been getting harder lately, the run down to Christmas making everything a little more difficult, and that you’d been swept off of your feet because your boss had been, too. Eight-hour shifts had become twelve, day through to night, never seeing the light of a winter day unless it was through the windows of your office as you worked, and he had a sympathetic guilt twisting in his gut.

Two bouquets to make up for the lack of time that your boss had been able to spare for either of the women in his life and you’d looked positively exhausted as you came out of your office to greet him at the top of the elevator. You had a frown on your face that barely lifted into a smile as you saw him, even though he knew you were happy to catch sight of him. The usual shade of lipstick that projected boldness and power was gone, your face free of makeup entirely, and styled hair now just pulled up into a bun.

He wondered how long it had been since you’d had a full night’s sleep.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?” You only shook your head, sniffling a little as you suppressed a yawn, before taking one of the bouquets from his arms, and inspecting it carefully.

“These are beautiful.”

“I put a little extra ribbon on them, just for you.” He winked, and that had earned him a little chuckle, glancing at him over your shoulder as he followed you through to your office, and placing them down on the cabinet near the doorway to be distributed when your boss had a free second to look at them. Chris felt his own eyes widen in shock as he looked around, the stacks of paperwork littered around the surfaces were astonishing, and there was other mess scattered among that.

Stationary littered the desk, clearly trying to get everything sorted, and almost every draw in the room was half-open, your heels kicked off by the edge of the desk and there was a clear spot against one of the walls where you’d been sitting, a patch clear with papers spread out around you, wording and statements on them that made his head spin as he looked at them. Business definitely wasn’t his forte.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead, cursing a little as you tried to find a pen that wasn't a highlighter, and he didn’t miss the crack in your voice as you scoured the paper stacks. Leaning down to pick one up from the dropped pen pot on the floor, and offering it to you. A little sigh passed your lips, before you were taking it from him, clicking it into action and signing your name on both of the forms to confirm the delivery, a simple ritual of habit by this stage, as he knew that even if you didn’t he wasn’t risking any legal action from you.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead afterwards, rolling your shoulders and shaking yourself down as you tried to hit that reset button on your mood, but it wasn't working, it didn’t take a genius to see it, and so he reached out, placing a comforting squeeze to your forearm, fingers slipping a little lower to latch onto your wrist loosely.

“Okay, you’re a little overwhelmed in here, huh?” You let out a weak laugh, glancing around yourself and nodding. “It’s time for a break. Take your lunch break now, we’re getting out of here.”

“I can’t leave, I have too much to do. I’ll just get something from the food courts, a sandwich, maybe.” You slumped down into your desk chairs, the wheels on it carrying you backwards slightly, and he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head at you.

“You have to go. It’s doctor’s orders.”

“Which doctor?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, and he gasped a little, hands finding your own and pulling you to your feet, despite the whine that you let out.

“This doctor. I went to medical school, I get to give the orders. You, my dear, need one hour of rest and relaxation from your workplace, stat.” You started up at him for a second, seeming to weigh it out in your mind, but he wasn’t backing down, and he swore he saw that realisation click within your eyes, because you caved.

Slipping your heels on and grabbing your jacket from the back of the door, you logged your timeout of the building in the lobby with Angie, who cooed at you a little as she watched you go, a pitiful look on her face as she knew just how hard you were working too, before his hand was settling on your lower back.

A ten-minute walk, finding a table in a small pizzeria on the corner of a street, one that he’d been dying to try for months now, and a quick order, and you were slumping down tiredly against the table. The workload always increased at Christmas, sales shot through the roof, all the expansions of your company were filing for Christmas bonuses, parties, annual reports and then, of course, there were the usual rises and falls in statistics over the year that needed to be dealt with.

It was chaotic, to say the least.

Over a hot and freshly baked pizza, your selection of toppings, and a soda that made you wrinkle your nose from the fizziness within, you looked like there was a little more life within you when you’d been leaving.

You spilled it all to him, telling him every struggle you’d been facing, and while he didn't understand half of what you were saying, he was more than happy to just to listen. He couldn't offer much advice, or anything of the sort that might be helpful, but it seemed that just being able to talk to someone had made the day a little brighter.

The chill in the air and the biting winds had made you wrap your coat around yourself even tighter on the walk back to your work, but there was more of a pep in your step and a lighter tone to your voice, a little more chipper and slightly less drained as you began to make your way back across the carpark. His arm was sitting around your waist, keeping you pulled up to his side against the cold of the winter. Instead of guiding you over to the door, though, his first stop was his car, ensuring that you couldn't see what he had placed on the passenger seat until he was ready for you to see it.

Leaning yo back against the cold metal, he unlocked the car, making you promise to cover your eyes, and while making a few jokes about how you were sure this was how friendly guys would kidnap a girl, you did as he’d asked. You gasped a little at the rustling of fabric in the wind and under his hands, seeming to guess what it was before ever seeing the gift, because a wide smile spread over your features.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends, what do you think it is?” He teased, making you wait a little longer, and you dragged your lower lip through your teeth, a hopefully look spreading over what half of your face he could actually see.

“Flowers, maybe?”

“Then you would be correct!” Your hand fell away from your eyes, taking a second to blink back into adjustment of the rays the winter sun gave off, before you were brightening up even further at the bundle he was holding in his hands.

Soft petals in different shades of yellow, some duller and some standing out to shine like the sun, but it was a stunning bunch all over, and he’d been sure to pick the freshest and best-looking plants from each pot as he built the bouquet especially for you before leaving for his delivery. He let you stare at them for a second, running a finger over some of the petals, sniffling the collection carefully, and admiring each individual plant, before finally looking back up to him, a brow raising as you waited for an explanation on the plants.

“I just thought yellow was a bright colour. Nothing particularly special about these ones, I wanted to cheer you up.”

He scratched nervously at the back of his neck, and you hummed happily, bringing them up to admire once again, before letting out a happy little sound from the back of your throat, one that made his cheeks flush with embarrassed warmth, bringing a pink tinge to the pale skin. “Don’t yellow roses mean friendship?”

His stomach dropped a little, but he swallowed thickly, and nodded. He was impressed that you knew that, a random fact to know, but he almost felt like he was being friend-zoned by the statement, even though he was the one who’d given you the flowers. It was only a few days ago that he’d realised he might have feelings that weren’t going away any time soon, the original fascination and infatuation was becoming something a little deeper, he often found himself thinking of you when he was at work and filling or orders, or at home cooking, or even letting his morning coffee. You seemed to be on his mind a lot nowadays, and he was beginning to regret the yellow rose choice, worried he’d sent the wrong message. How ironic.

“Well, I’m really glad you consider us friends, Chris. I think you’re great, and I hope we’re friends for a long time.”

He tried to contain his disappointment, nodding his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Walking you up to the front door, both of the receptionists made a point of fawning dramatically over the flowers in your arms as you signed back in, exactly an hour later and perfectly on time for the end of your lunch break, but with a lot more joy and a rejuvenation for the work you were doing, enough to carry you through the rest of your day.

Standing at the elevator and waiting for it to arrive, his cheeks were warm enough as it was, the attention you were getting front he not-so-discreet spying of the receptionists making him even more nervous, but if Angie and Clara were watching then that's their choice, because he didn’t have much left to lose, now.

Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he made sure that you were looking at him, a soft and shy smile on your lips as he thumbs smoothed over your skin, trying to reassure you without using words. “Chin up, sweetheart. You’re gonna’ be just fine, okay?”

“Okay, Chris.” You nodded your head, words whispered as you agreed with him, and when he pulled you a little closer, you tipped your head to meet him, his lips pressing to your forehead in a tender kiss, his heart leaping in his chest as you did. The elevator dinged, and he snapped away from you, both of you lingering for a moment longer, something unspoken laying between you, but it was broken as a colleague stepped out of the box, excusing himself as he squeezed past you, and the moment was over.

Waving goodbye, he wiggled his fingers in response to you, and he took a moment to himself to steady his racing heart once the doors had closed with you inside. He bid his farewell to the two women ogling him with wide eyes from behind the desk, trying not to let his nervousness show, to be confident like Mark had taught him to be, and it lasted all the way to the car, before he broke it with a ragged sigh and a little cheer to himself, immediately dialling his best friend on the car’s phone as he pulled out of the parking lot.

It was the kind eyes of Angie that met him as he stepped into the building, palms sweating a little and a shake to his breath, and the flowers in his arms were practically vibrating with nerves as he approached the front desk. Placing them down on the glass surface, she admired them quietly, taking a look at them all before he was being offered the candy dish that she usually had hidden, and he took a peppermint gratefully, red and green swirls along it through the clear wrapping, the festive theme of the late December days was shining through.

“Only the one bouquet this time?”

“They, uh, they aren’t for Mr McKinley.” He mumbled, unwrapping the hard sweet and shoving it wrapped into his pocket, placing the treat on his tongue and sucking on it lightly for something to do, sweetened mint flavours exploding over his senses.

“Oh, so these are a pretty bouquet for our lovely (Y/N), then?”

He could only nod, wondering absently whether or not sweat was beginning to physically show through his shirt, and just how fast his heart was going, because he felt like he was about to pass out. “I think she’s in a meeting right now, but I can get them sent up for her, if that works for you, my dear?”

“Can I just go and drop them off in her office? It’ll make a nice surprise for her to come back to.”

She considered it for a moment, mulling over the security risk and all other options, and he was ready to give up, before she eventually agreed. “Alright, but only if you tell me about the flowers. She’s been telling me all about the pretty bouquet you make with meanings, even showed me your website.”

“She did? She does?”

Pride flushed through his system at that knowledge, and Angie seemed to pick up on it, her face cracking in an even wider smile. “Yes, and they were all beautiful, but I don’t remember this set on there.”

“It’s new, I made it. It’s a personal one, I suppose.”

“It got a name, yet?” He mulled it over, staring down at the pretty bunch in his hands. Dark shades of blue and black, splashes of purple that were speckled with white, and he decided it resembled the night sky rather nicely.

“What do you think of ‘Starry Night’?”

“Very fitting.” She confirmed, and his heart managed to slow a little in his chest as at least one thing on his to-do list became sorted. “So, blue roses, but what are the rest?”

“They would be black pansies and gypsophila.” She hummed, continuing to fix him with that curious gaze, and he knew that wasn't going to cut it. “The blue roses are for mystery, and gaining the impossible. I dye them myself. Black pansies mean broken love, which, I guess isn’t totally suitable here, but combined with the gypsophila, it’s more like the chance of a new beginning, and not necessarily unrequited feelings.”

“You really like her, huh?”

“That obvious?” He grinned, knowing that his feelings may as well be lit up with a neon sign above his head. “You’ll get them to her after her meeting, then?”

“Of course, I will.” She took them over the desk, writing down a memo on her notepad so that she didn't forget, and he watched as the pretty bundle was carried away. “Did you leave a card, or do you want to write a note?”

“Just tell her to text me if she likes them?” She beamed, nodding her head, and he backed away, turning on his heel, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to give them to you himself, but simultaneously relieved at the fact, because he could feel his pulse racing right to the tips of his fingers with how intense it was.

You’d clearly had a busy day, because it wasn’t until Chris was shutting up shop that he finally felt his phone buzz, doing his last check over of all the systems and machines, when a text from you came in, diverting every ounce of attention that he had.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] so, do these flowers have a hidden meaning, or did you just put them together because they look good?

He grinned at his phone, shaking his head slightly as a laugh left his lips, and he leaned on the wall, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he thought out his response.

> a little bit of both.

It was a few minutes before you replied, this time, a photograph coming through, of you carrying your flower out of the building, setting off towards the elevators from your office, if he was depicting the background correctly.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to google it?

He paused, not quite having got that far, and the relief of not having to explain his feelings or you before had drowned out the fact that he’d have to tell you at some point, and his heart was leaping into his throat.

He gave himself a minute, checking over the locks and windows to make sure everything was sealed up, setting the thermostat and setting the alarm, not yet activating it, but making sure that everything was done, right down to holding his keys for the main door in his hands. Locking up the building, he sealed down the metal guard, triple checking the padlock, and making his way to the car.

Engine on, heaters up, his lights being the last to flood the parking lot as he tried to man up, before finally bringing back up the unopened message, taking the notifications and opening his texts.

> long story short, I’m trying to ask you out. using flowers, because words normally fail me in times of importance.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face and just hoping that it was acceptable, his phone buzzing before he’d even managed to start up the car property for his journey home. His hand hovered over where it was laying on the passenger seat, considering whether or not to pick it up, before forcing down his nerves and reaching for it.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] friday night work for you?

He stared at the message for a few seconds, confirming that they were real, and he wasn’t just making it up because it’s what he wanted to read, before letting out a loud and victorious set of cheers for only him to ever know about.

> I’ll pick you up from your work at 5.

Chris was sitting in one of the white leather chairs that had been scattered around the lobby, shifting slightly awkwardly, nerves getting the best of him. He knew you wouldn't stand him up, but as the clock ticked over past 5:10 PM, he worried a little that you were trying to find a way to let him down, having decided that you’d changed your mind on wanting to go out with him, and he tried to steady his nerves.

Brushing over the flowers in his hands, he adjusted his grip on them a little, not wanting the plastic to become damp with his sweaty palms, and swallowing thickly again. Finally, the elevator doors chimed, and he let out a nervous sigh, taking a deep breath and sliding his eyes shut as he calmed himself down, certain that his heart no longer had a rhythm and was just beating erratically and rapidly like the seismograph in a disaster movie.

Twisting his head a little, he let out a deep breath, watching as you came toward him, looking far more casual than he had ever seen you ever had before. Jeans and jumper, a striped scarf that looked suspiciously handmade in the sweetest of ways, and sneakers on your feet instead of heels, dropping your height down by a few inches, and he was so used to looking straight at you, never needing to look down, that it caught him a little by surprise.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” You looked a little flushed, sounded slightly out of breath, and he realised you must’ve been rushing, not stalling, and he felt a little calmer at that thought. Placing down the flowers on the chairs, he stood up properly, letting out a slow breath.

“Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful.”

“I thought I’d change, heels and pencil skirts are great for work, but not so comfy for a first date.” There was a bag on your arm, which he assumed your business-wear was stuffed in, and he gave himself a moment to take you in. He liked you better this way, you looked more like yourself, the version of you that he knew you to be from hours of late-night calls and texting, weeks of getting to know one another, both in-person and via messages, and the formal outfits he was so used to seeing you in were just a cover for the real you.

He realised he’d been staring too long, jumping slightly in his panic, before turning away and grabbing the bundle that he’d brought with him. “I brought you flowers. Not as special as normal guys, since I own the flower shop and it's not the first time, but I did create this bouquet design just for you.”

“I think it’s pretty special.” Your words were whispered, taking the bundle of flowers and bringing them into yourself to admire delicately, a combination of red and white roses, with green bells peppered throughout. “Okay, so, let me guess on this one.”

He only nodded his head, watching as you considered the bundle, licking over your lower lip and taking it hostage between your teeth as your thoughts whirled before his very eyes.

“White roses are innocence, right? Seems fitting for a first date. Red roses are romance, of course.” You smirked a little then, glancing up at him through your lashes, and he grinned, feeling totally at ease now that he was under your gaze. “What about the green ones?”

“Green bells. They’re for good luck.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll need any luck, you’ve pretty much already got me wrapped around your little finger, Chris Beck.” You adjusted the flowers in your arms, taking his hand with your other one, and lacing your fingers together, and he squeezed back in security as heat flooded over his face in a warm blush. “However, I do think it’s sweet, so I’ll accept it.”

“I wanted to do something Christmassy for you, but I didn’t want to go with any of the typical ones. Holly, mistletoe, poinsettia, they didn’t feel unique enough.”

“I don’t know, I think mistletoe can be good.” You leaned in a little, his brows raising slightly as your wide smile dimmed down, the humour of the moment changing, and his free hand found your waist, fingers playing with yours on the other, and he pulled you a little closer, taking the hint that you were laying down.

“Maybe just this once.” He teased, nose bumping against your own, and he could still taste the sweet honey on your breath from the herbal teas you were always concocting, warm breath shared between you. As your head twisted to close the gap, he became acutely aware of the lingering feeling of not being alone, the both of you jumping and snapping apart a little when the loud crashing of a mug on the floor sounded out loudly.

Two sets of voices cursing followed it, Angie’s and Clara’s heads both ducking down behind the desk as they looked at the mess on the floor, and his jaw dropped as he released the two had been watching on eagerly this whole time, and he’d been so wrapped up in you that he hadn't realised there’d been an audience all along.

He would’ve been embarrassed, had it not been for the way your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to contain your laughs, and he found the amusement in it too, his arm slipping around your waist as he matched your laugher, shaking his head as he watched the two women try and clear up the split coffee and smashed mug.

“Hey, ladies, I’ll see you Monday!”

The popped back up, sheepish looks on their faces as they nodded, and he gave them both a little wave, letting you tug him along by the hand that was still connected to your own, towards the open doorway of the building, a chill rolling in. As you stepped out, a chill took over, and his hand slipped from yours to sliding around your waist instead, pulling you closer to him, and you guided him over to where your car was parked, and he was more than happy to simply follow.

“So, what do you have planned?”

“I thought something a little more relaxed would be fun. How do you feel about a tree lighting ceremony, and some street food?” You curled into him a little more, a happy sigh leaving you.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Unlocking the car, he let you go, long enough to put your back in the trunk and lay your flowers out on the front seat, locking it back up as you deemed yourself ready to go. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, but just one thing, first. Something I’ve been waiting weeks for.”

His brows raised, lips parting to ask you waist it was, but your hand latched onto the front of his shirt, tugging him forward as you leaned up, and he groaned a little, a soft sound but vibrating through him as your mouth closed over his, soft and warm, lips pressing together, and a shock ran along his entire body. His hand slipped to your waist, one cupping your cheek as he pulled you a little closer, pressing you back into the car as your bodies came flush up together, and he felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him as you sighed out against his mouth, a breathy moan carried with it.

Twisting his head to the side, he barely pulled back for breath before he was diving right back into you, more confident and passionate this time with his movements. He took control, feeling the way you sagged into his hands as he did, lips working with yours in an intimate dance of their own making, slow and teasing movements, before finally he was pulling away, just far enough to press his forehead to your own as the two of you panted lightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Worth the wait?” He mused, feeling your breathless giggle wash over his lips, before you were leaning up just enough to peck his lips once more, and his lips were still pouted, chasing after you as you backed away for a second, before he was licking over them and cracking his eyes open to look at the adoring expression on your face.

“Definitely worth the wait.”

#chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck/reader #chris beck the martian #sebastian stan chris beck #sebastian stan the martian #sebastian stan #Seb Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #12 Days of AUmas

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fukindork · 4 years

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Blood On The Table

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Chapter 2 Word Count: 5410

Quirks and Flashbacks

Today was the day! Patton was being hired at the library to work. It’s supposed to be a temporary job but it does pay pretty well since it’s such a high end library, so who knows how long he’ll work here? He walked in to meet the man that hired him, a man wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket over a shirt that just said “Sleep” in bold letters, holding a cup of starbucks iced coffee. It was about 10am so it was appropriate, Patton supposed. He walked up to the other man, who was about 3 inches taller than him, “Hi! Are you Remy?” he asked.

Remy looked up from his phone and took a sip of his coffee, “Yeah…” he looked Patton up and down, “You must be Patton. Come with me,” he turned around and walked behind the counter and into a back room. There sat a figure that was deep into a thick book on psychology, “You are being trained to be my replacement.” Remy spoke again, “So…. he’s basically your manager for now…. but I’m the one that hired you and is your boss.” he shrugged. He walked over and tapped the other man on the shoulder, “Hey Poindexter, the new guy is here.” he told him before just, leaving.

The man sighed, closing his book with one hand and setting it down. He adjusted his glasses and stood up, Patton stared as he just kind of… kept going as he stood up. Once he was up straight he adjusted his tie and looked Patton over, “Alright.” he sighed in slight annoyance, “I suppose I will show you the basics. Remille did not inform me of the new employee so I apologize, I would have been more prepared.” He stood a full foot taller than Patton, who was already slightly taller than average, because he was already 5’7”, he only went up to his shoulder!

“So.” Patton started, looking up at the other, “Since we’ll be working together. What’s your name? I’m Patton.” he held out his hand to the much taller man.

The other man ran a hand through his perfectly in place hair and took Patton’s hand, “Logan.” he said simply, shaking Patton’s hand once before pulling away. He stepped towards the door and looked back to Patton, “Come along. I shall show you now what your basic job is.” he told him as he walked out of the back room.

Patton grinned, skipping behind Logan. The next hour was spent with Logan showing Patton how checking in and out worked, how to clean everything, and taking around books to put them away. Basic stuff, when Logan finished explaining he went to a cart of books that were already organized, picking up a small stack of them, which was about 3 books, “These books need to be put away in their proper places. If you are aware of how the Dewey Decimal system works. A majority of these go into the nonfiction and they are quite heavy so no need to push yourself-”

Patton easily picked up about 7 of the heavy books, smiling at Logan. He noticed the other man had stopped talking and blinked, “Logan? Is something wrong?” he tilted his head in confusion.

Logan stared at Patton with apparent shock. But after a moment he shook his head, “Are you able to carry those? I cannot even carry 5 of them myself.” he stepped closer, inspecting Patton and tilting his head, “You don’t seem to be struggling at all.” he mumbled.

The shorter man just laughed, “Oh, right. I’m not sure where it comes from. But I’ve always been really strong. I work out on the weekends with a friend of mine, but yeah, I can’t really explain it.” he shrugged.

Logan seemed amazed and stared at Patton, “You…. but-” he really seemed to be confused and unable to wrap his head around it. He shook his head again to sort of gather his thoughts, his face dropping back to emotionless, “I’ll ask about it more when we are not working.” he stepped back, explaining where the different sections of nonfiction were, “That should be easy enough for you.”

Patton nodded, “Okay! Should I put away all the books on the cart?” he asked, still grinning at Logan.

Logan turned to him and nodded once, “I will also be doing so, once we are both finished you may go into the back for further instructions.”

Patton nodded and skipped off with his heavy set of books, he noticed that while he was putting away the books, Logan was watching him. Why was he so interested in him? Maybe it’s because it’s his first day, yeah that’s probably it. Logan just wanted to make sure that he was doing everything right. Patton hoped he was anyway, since Logan hadn’t approached him yet.

It didn’t take long for Patton to finish off the cart. Logan did help, but he mostly just watched Patton. And he knew that, Patton had noticed that his coworker had done only about 5 books off of the cart when Patton had done a lot more. Not that he minded, this was clearly the easy part of the job.

Once he was finished he approached the empty cart and looked back to try and find Logan. Only to be met with the unbelievably tall figure looming above him and standing at the cart. He was rather intimidating because his face almost never changed from the resting position. Patton just had to wonder about him, though they really hadn’t known each other for long, since they had only met about an hour and a half ago. Logan did have his curious look in his eyes as he scanned Patton, he didn’t mind, but what could Logan be thinking about?

~~~~~~

It had been 2 months since Logan and Patton met. Patton had noticed a lot of little things about Logan, like that he read a lot of books on humans. Psychology, anatomy, and the like. It was strange to him. Logan had revealed that he had a doctorate in medical school and was currently working on one for psychology, so why was he working at a library? Patton asked a lot of questions, and occasionally he asked too many and he would get The Glare. Those were the times where he would stop talking to Logan for at least 30 minutes. Though it was pretty easy to do now that Logan constantly busied him with work or a book to read.

Today Patton wanted to see if his coworker was free to hang out outside of work. Maybe they could watch a movie together and debate about it. That was another thing that Logan loved to do, debate with others. But Patton loved it, he loved listening to the little debates Logan had with other people. Most of the time they were done just for fun, though on occasion Logan may have gotten a little too heated during some more….. Political debates. To the point where Patton had to pull him away before he killed someone. Figuratively of course, as Logan would specify. Although they were useful sometimes, it was how Patton figured out Logan liked guys as much as he did after all.

Though it was good that Patton did pull him away, Logan was very tall. So if he stood up to try and win an argument he probably would just because his height can be intimidating. Patton had just pulled Logan away from one of those arguments and were now sitting in the back.

Patton handed Logan one of his home made ginger snaps that he had brought to the library to feed the other with, but he mostly ate them himself. Logan did take the cookie though, which made Patton smile. Logan didn’t usually take his treats, “Thank you Patton. It is very kind of you to provide sugary sweets for me so often, even if I rarely take any when offered.” he took a small bite of it, there was no reaction from him, but it wasn’t negative. So that was good enough for Patton.

He grabbed the book Logan had been reading before and set it down in front of him, as well as the paper plate of cookies. He gently pat Logan’s shoulder and walked to the front to help out customers. Patton decided to leave Logan alone while he cleaned things up and helped out with the people.

Patton had also started a sort of trend in the library where every Wednesday he would go to the kid’s section at 4:30 and read whoever was there a book of some sort. And today happened to be Wednesday at 4:23. So Patton went to the kid’s section and picked out a book, sat down, and waited for all of the children and their parents to come and sit down, he did have signs up of course, how else are people going to know about his reading time?

After reading to the kids for about half an hour Patton waved goodbye to them and watched as their parents dragged them off to go home. He sighed happily and stood up to go to the back and check on Logan.

Logan had finished his cookie and was just reading his book now. He was silent and still until he would turn the page. Patton smiled as he watched for only a few seconds. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to the other man. He liked his height especially, when he occasionally was allowed to hug Logan, he liked that he was able to wrap his arms around Logan’s limber figure and basically lay his head onto his shoulder since he was just tall enough to do so. Logan hardly hugged him back but when he did it was always just a small pat on the back. And that was good enough for Patton.

“Hey Logan?” Patton asked, sort of studying Logan’s figure now. Noticing how Logan was never hunched over as he read, keeping his already perfectly ironed clothes in the same array. His dark brown hair was a similar story, shaved on the sides and leaving a large section in the middle long that Logan constantly had slicked back. How often did Logan go to the barber? His hair always stayed very short. His face also was very clean and professional, he almost never had any scruff. Patton appreciated that Logan always kept so clean like that, it made him happy.

Logan then looked up at Patton, peering through his square, black, thick rimmed glasses with his deep blue eyes that hardly ever held any emotion, “Yes Patton?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, clearly awaiting the answer from his coworker.

Patton took a full second to answer Logan, since he was a bit busy admiring Logan’s angular figure, basically everything about him had some kind of angle and sharpness to it. His jaw made his face a good square shape, and his nose was long and thin, pairing with his high cheekbones and hooded almond eye shape.

He quickly blinked and realized that Logan had answered him, “Ah, Logan I wanted to know if you wanted to possibly visit my house with me tonight after work?” he asked, “I was thinking we could watch a movie… Or bake something together.” he shrugged, desperately hoping that Logan wouldn’t be offended or anything, “Just doing things that isn’t work.”

Logan closed his book and looked Patton over, evidently thinking about it. After a moment he looked Patton in the face, “Alright, I am willing to visit your household. After work you say?”

Patton grinned, he nodded excitedly, “Yeah. And since today we close early there will be more time to hang out!” he gave a thumbs up before walking in, taking a cookie, and leaving quickly to get back to work. Patton bounced with excitement as he continued working the rest of the day.

They closed at around 7 that night. Logan cleaned the front of the library while Patton cleaned the back. It wasn’t a very big library so it was easy for the both of them to clean within an hour. Once Patton had finished he went into the back to make sure nothing else needed to be done, grabbed his cookie plate, turned off the lights, and went back to Logan, who was waiting by the front door, “Everything seems to be in order!” he grinned.

Logan nodded, walking out of the library and waiting for Patton to step out before locking the door, “Alright. Shall I bring my own car?” he asked.

Patton nodded, “I might not be awake enough to get you home by the end of the night,” he laughed a little bit.

Logan nodded slowly, “Alright, I suppose I will follow after you as we drive our vehicles to your home.”

Patton nodded again, walking to his car and getting in. He started up his car and drove out of the parking lot, watching as Logan’s car followed him. It took only about 20 minutes to get to Patton’s small house. Both pulled up to the house, Logan parking before Patton and waiting by his car for a signal from the other to come inside.

Once parked, Patton ran over and grabbed Logan’s arm, “So what do you want to do?” he asked as he dragged Logan inside, rambling about something or another while he unlocked the door, “What kind of movies do you like?” he asked as he let Logan go once they were inside.

Logan shrugged, “Oh I normally watch documentaries. Most fictional stories have too many inconsistencies and punctures in the plot.” he explained simply.

Patton had to take a moment to understand, “Oh. Okay.” he waved Logan over to his living room and sat on the couch. He patted the cushion beside him, grinning as Logan walked over and sat down, “So then what kind of thing should we watch? I’m sure you can get me interested in anything!” he bounced a little, picking up a remote and flicking through one of his streaming services.

He offered Logan the remote to find something, which the other did take. He found an ocean documentary and clicked on that, letting it play. While watching it, Patton would occasionally ask questions that Logan easily answered. Patton didn’t entirely know if Logan normally watched stuff like this, since he seemed to always be reading things about the human body or mind. Yet Logan obviously had seen this documentary, so maybe Logan just had lots of interests.

The two of them talked and watched the documentary until it ended. Logan hadn’t moved other than crossing his legs about halfway through the film. Once it was over Patton looked over to Logan, “So how do you feel about me picking a movie?” he asked.

Logan handed him the remote, “Here you go, I hope you don’t mind, but I have a bit of a habit of talking over films, especially if they are fictional.” he explained.

Patton grinned, “Then I’ll find a movie that we’ve both seen. And we can talk about it.” he found some old disney movie and turned it on. They spent the rest of the night watching and discussing movies, Patton certainly enjoyed it. He couldn’t tell if Logan was as well, but it was nearly 1am now, and Logan surely had to get home.

“That was fun!” Patton grinned as he turned the tv off, “I guess maybe you should go home now. Maybe next time we can bake some-” he froze, “I-If there is a next time.” he coughed a little.

Logan rolled his eyes, “Patton, I enjoyed this experience. And I am perfectly willing to spend time outside of work with you again.”

Patton’s eyes lit up, “Really!?” he shouted, running over and bouncing in front of Logan, swallowing his pride for the moment, “Do…. Do you think I could hug you?” he asked softly, his eyes basically star shaped as he looked up at Logan.

Logan looked Patton over and sighed in defeat, “Yes Patton. You may hug me.” he lifted his arms for the other to hug him easier.

Patton squeaked excitedly and nearly barreled Logan over with a bone crushing hug. Logan gasped in slight pain and the sudden inability to breathe. Patton hugged him tightly, lifting Logan up a little before putting him back down.

Logan widened his eyes and gently pat Patton’s shoulder, to which Patton set him down, hugging him for only a second longer. But he did feel a small pat on his back from the other just before he let go. He grinned up to Logan, “Thanks.”

Logan nodded and stepped back, “Try to refrain from constricting me so tightly next time.” he adjusted his tie and glasses, “Although it did feel… cordial.” he opened the door, “I shall see you tomorrow at the library. Have a pleasant night Patton.” he waved once as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him.

Patton watched Logan leave and nearly squealed, he got himself ready for bed and fell asleep thinking about Logan, completely unaware of what the other man was doing in his spare time once he was home.

~~~~~~

3 years after meeting, Logan and Patton had grown to become good friends, Patton adored Logan, he might even say he was totally in love with him. He loved the way Logan looked, acted, and generally just everything about Logan. It may have gotten to the point where it was quite obvious to everyone around him, though he wasn’t sure if Logan knew.

Today he may or may not have been staring at Logan with a loving expression that was just so obvious to literally everyone but Logan. As apathetic and unknowing of emotions he was, Logan was incredibly intelligent, but he was dense. One would think he’d have at least said something about the way Patton acted by now. Or really even noticed.

Patton was sitting at the front by the computers so he could check out people’s books, luckily almost no one came up to the front while he hopelessly stared at Logan with a lovesick smile on his face. Hearts basically radiating off of him.

Suddenly, a man walked up and set a book in front of Patton, “What are you smiling at?” he asked with a sneer, he was checking out some religious book.

Patton looked over, “Oh, heh, just my coworker.” he rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed as he took the book and scanned it, “Alright can I have your library card?” he asked.

The man had looked back at Logan and frowned deeper when he looked back to Patton, throwing the card onto the counter, “Try not to get it dirty,” then the man used a very vulgar slur to call Patton, to which a few other customers nearby gasped at.

Patton blinked in surprise, “O-oh. Well I will certainly do my best.” he scanned the card to check out the book for the man, trying to be quick about it and not show his clear discomfort, that he did ultimately fail at.

“Aw what? Did I hurt your feelings?” the rude man laughed, “Too bad, you’ll just have to deal with it, this whole gay thing will go away eventually. It’s so new that all of you people will die out and the world will go back to being the way it’s supposed to be.” he took the library card and leaned on the counter, “Besides, you’ll probably die of AIDS anyway-”

That was the moment a shout could be heard from the background, “FALSEHOOD!” came the shout and the man immediately stopped talking to turn around.

Logan walked over, firing rage burning in his eyes, and even though the man was of a tall height, Logan still loomed over him. His eyes practically glowing with rage, “Everything you just said is not only untrue, but incredibly disrespectful to my coworker.” his voice was monotone still, but just teetering on screaming at the other man.

The man was slightly intimidated, but he just smirked, “Oh yeah? Prove it.” he said simply.

That was in fact, a mistake. Because Logan just started running his mouth about all the details about history and such, even going as far as to pull out his notepad and write down a list of history books and hand it to the other man, “If you are going to be, as some would put it, an asshole. Then I would suggest that you take the time to do some research about it before saying anything.”

The man was absolutely stunned by Logan, but he just took the list and ripped it in half, “Oh come on, you really think I’m going to believe you?” he raised an arm to punch Logan but he just caught it before it could make any contact with him.

“Please. You lot of people are so unnecessarily violent.” Logan shook his head, “I may be trained in some martial arts,” he pinned the fist to the counter, “But I will not waste them on someone like you. I am not going to stand for this type of behavior in a library where there are children around.” he growled.

He leaned closer to the other man, whispering something to him that Patton couldn’t hear, but he did see the man pale and step away. He grabbed both the book and his card before turning and running out of the library.

Logan turned to Patton, “Are you alright? I understand that those kinds of insults can be infuriating,” he was sort of trying to comfort Patton, but being the mostly apathetic man he is, he really wasn’t good at it.

Patton knew he was trying, he nodded, “Yeah….. It happens plenty.” he stood up and took a deep breath, he had never seen Logan get so heated, it was nearly to the point where Patton was about to pull him away, but Logan had solved the ordeal himself.

Logan stepped behind the counter and into the back room, gesturing for Patton to come in. Patton looked to the other people and they nodded for him to go. So he went into the back to see Logan standing there, “Are you sure you’re alright Patton?” he asked, almost stern.

Patton widened his eyes, “What? Logan I’m…..” he felt a lump in his throat form and tears unintentionally form. He looked away from the other, not wanting to show Logan how he felt, “I’m fine….” his voice broke and he sniffled.

Logan bit his lip as he watched Patton break down. He sighed heavily and walked over, and hugged him. Actually hugged him. It wasn’t a small pat like he normally hugged the other, and it wasn’t a bear hug like Patton’s was to him most of the time. It was just a gentle pressure. Patton widened his eyes and stood there, held against Logan, frozen in place.

“Studies point out that this amount of pressure is optimal in these situations to give comfort and stability to someone that happens to be in need of it.” he mumbled softly. Patton just laughed as tears ran down his face. He hugged Logan back tightly. He let the tears fall, and he slightly wet Logan’s shirt because of it, but it was on the shoulder so it wouldn’t be that noticeable to anyone else.

Patton cried for a while, otherwise the two of them were silent. Logan pulled away from Patton slightly and Patton let him, raising his hands to his face to try and wipe his tears.

Logan stopped him by grabbing one of his wrists, “Do not subject your face to whatever has been on your hands, it could make you ill.” he pulled back and grabbed a tissue box and had Patton sit down, he pulled a tissue from the box and wiped his face with it, “Now. Do you feel better after releasing the overload of chemicals?” he asked, of course using pretentious language like the smartass he was.

But Patton still smiled and nodded, “Yeah…. Yeah I do.” he swallowed the lump in his throat and sniffled, taking another tissue from the box Logan was still holding and wiping his face off some more, “Okay…. I’m okay now. Thank you…” he took a deep breath and let it out, it was still shaky but he did feel better, “You’ve never hugged me like that before.” he laughed softly.

Logan shrugged, hardly any emotion on his face as usual, “I am aware. But I wanted to make sure you did not…. Repress your feelings, as that would be bad for both your physical and mental health.” he explained, standing back up properly, “I will allow you to go home early for the day, it hasn’t been busy so I can do the cleaning myself after close.”

Patton knew that if he refused Logan wouldn’t let him do anything anyway, so he nodded, “Okay.” he stood up and gathered his things, “Thank you again, you really helped me.”

Logan shook his head, “No need to mention it Patton. Now go home.” he gently pat his shoulder. Patton nodded again and left the library to spend some time to himself

Two days after the ordeal a news report came out, and the man from that day had turned up to be missing. Just disappeared off the face of the earth supposedly. Patton watched in confusion, that was strange, what could have happened?

~~~~~~

Skip to nearly 2 years after that, Patton had gotten suspicious of Logan and his hobbies. He sort of always had been but his suspicions were getting less and less strange and more and more believable. And after seeing the keys, Patton knew he had to do something, he needed to check up on Logan without his permission. There might be a problem at home, and Patton wanted nothing more than Logan to be happy.

Patton had decided to follow Logan home, he had never actually been to his house, he didn’t even know this area that Logan lived in. Logan had always been very secretive about his home life. Patton knew that this might be a bad idea and he would be completely invading Logan’s privacy, but he needed to know what was going on.

He kept his headlights mostly off as he found where Logan’s house was. Secluded out in the woods, away from everyone, Patton knew that Logan liked his alone time but this was to another level.. Patton parked not too far away and made his way to the house. He looked around, it seemed very clean and nice, patches of grass were greener than others, which was strange. Maybe Logan just didn’t have much of a green thumb.

Patton approached the house slowly, he looked around and observed. It was a nice place, not very large since Logan had mentioned he lived alone, and an older house to be sure. He walked up to the front door and pressed his ear against it, he heard screams and widened his eyes, was Logan okay? It didn’t really sound like Logan, he should probably help right?

But then he heard Logan’s voice talking. As he continued to listen he heard another voice and then a gunshot. Logan’s voice spoke again and then the screaming from before started up again. Patton sort of recognized the voice that wasn’t Logan’s but he couldn’t place where he knew it.

Patton stepped away from the door, horrified by the things he was hearing. He grabbed the door knob, ready to need to break it open if necessary. But he found that it was unlocked. He gulped and slowly opened the door, it didn’t make a sound. Logan always hated it when something like this squeaked so it was understandable.

As he stepped in he noticed that Logan’s house was clean, but then there was a large patch of blood on the carpet, dried of course. And there was a baseball bat with more dried blood. As he looked around more, Patton saw the feet of another person and walked over to inspect them, they were definitely unconscious but at least they were breathing. Blood pooled under the other man signifying a horrid wound

Patton could hear the muffled screaming from the room that the wounded man was in front of. He slowly leaned over the unconscious man, barely leaning in far enough to see inside, once he saw what was going on, he had to keep himself from gasping.

Logan was covered in blood, bent over someone, holding a large knife and slicing into their body, and not only that, the person was alive.

Patton stepped back, covering his mouth in fear. Before he could think about anything else, his fight or flight response kicked in. He turned around, moving to the feet of the body on the ground and pulling him out of the way, thinking about what he was gonna do. He then saw one of Logan’s ties on the couch near the door, he grabbed it. He slowly picked up the unconscious man and walked out to his car, grateful that he was as strong as he was. He saw the bullet wound and bit his lip.

How could Logan do this? He was trying to kill people? He looked over the man and realized that he had seen that he was missing on the news, and he remembered that his name was Roman Green. Patton had seen that he was supposed to be in a play in the local theater. How many other people had Logan kidnapped?

He brought Roman out to his car as quickly and quietly as he could, gently setting him down in the backseat. Now he had to go back for that other man, he couldn’t just leave him.

Patton walked back inside with the tie in hand, slowly walking to the room where the two of them were. It pained Patton to do this, he really did love Logan, but he knew that he had to. He stepped into the room, a finger to his lips as the victim noticed him. And he didn’t know why Logan didn’t notice, but he held up the tie, and grabbed him by the neck, effectively choking him.

“I’m sorry Logan…” he whispered. Watching the other stumble out of his grip, but Patton was ready and willing to fight him. Logan didn’t attack him, not yet anyway. But Patton wouldn’t give him the chance to.

He grabbed Logan and pushed him against a wall as hard as he could. Knocking the other man unconscious. He ran over to the man on the table, undoing the restraints with ease, “It’ll be alright kiddo. I’ll get you out.” he told him, “Can you sit up? I already have the other guy in the back of my car.” he told him softly, he hoped that the other hadn’t lost too much blood, he helped him cover up his wound with the cut shirt, gently talking to the other to distract him from the pain.

The slightly taller man was able to sit up, but he was in a lot of pain, “Okay. Let’s get you to a hospital.” Patton told him, gently picking him up and bringing him to his car. He sat him down in the front seat and drove away as fast as he could. He couldn’t let either of these people die on him, he wouldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let it happen.

What was Patton to do? He should probably call the police, and he planned to, once he was certain that both of the men in his car were safe and at the hospital getting the help they needed.

And he did get them there, making sure that they were okay, he still hadn't called the police. Why didn’t he just do it? Because he loved Logan. But that’s beside the point, Logan was a bad person and needed to be put away for at least attempted murder!

Patton fought with himself, why was this so hard for him? He ended up not calling the police yet, instead opting to go home. The fact that Logan was doing that to someone was eating away at him, he just wanted to go to bed.

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bluepenguinstories · 4 years

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Forty-Five

It was an unnamed restaurant in an unnamed city where we sat across from each other. Sure, the restaurant had a name, same with the city we resided in, but neither of those seemed to matter as of late. If they ever did at all.

What mattered was our candlelit dinner, dim lighting, and exquisite dining. Something we both deserved for quite some time.

“What did you order, by the way?” I asked the rascal across from me with the flat-brim baseball cap and the blue hair in a pixie cut.

“Escargot and garlic bread. You?”

She was slumped down on the table, her elbow planted firm. The way she always seemed to scowl was always such a sight to behold.

“Mm...Crepes and spaghetti.”

“Wait. Spaghetti? I thought this was a French restaurant.”

“Maybe it's a combination French-Italian restaurant. You know the kind.”

“What does it matter, anyway?” She turned her head and grumbled. “I'm only here because you're paying.”

I shrugged. “Fair enough.”

At that point, it was my turned to slouch. I leaned my head forward and rested it on the table, then reached my hand out and poked her on my nose. She, of course, growled and swiped my hand away.

“Hey! Get your grubby mitts away from me! I bet you didn't even wash your hands!”

“Aw, come on! You know it's romantic!”

“As if! You and I both know the only reason why we're here.”

She was right, of course. It wasn't because we wanted some kind of date night or some kind of romantic night out (not that it was night, anyway. It was the middle of the afternoon, still a few hours before sunset). No, if you wanted to call it a getaway...you wouldn't be wrong. Not completely, anyway.

Rather than dwell further on why we were there, I looked up and the opportunity for distraction presented itself.

“Look! Our food!”

The server set the plates down. I thanked the waiter and when I saw the waiter's face, I was filled with shock: a rather-dead and tired looking face but with a mouth so full of life, opened wide:

“THE MANAGER MADE THE RESTAURANT OPEN 24/7! I HAVEN'T GOTTEN ANY SLEEP IN DAYS AND I LOVE SERVING CUSTOMERS!”

This isn't good.

I gulped. He went off to attend to someone else. I really hoped she didn't pay any mind to that.

All around me, the other folks seemed more or less normal (whatever that meant). Nothing too out of the ordinary. So, after a sigh of relief, I turned back to her and saw her poking at the dead snails, chomping away with a serious and resolute expression. As for mine, I thought my face was about to turn green.

“How can you stand to eat any of that?” I pointed to her dish with my fork in hand.

“We had to eat all sorts of weird things in the military. Builds character,” she replied, a mouthful of, if you would call it such, food.

“Oh yeah. I forgot Area 51 is part of the military...”

“What are you, some kind of baby?”

“No!” I protested. “I just know what I like, okay?”

Great. Girl had me on the defensive. I had to find a way to retaliate.

“Say, I've got spaghetti...wanna re-enact that one scene from Lady and the Tramp?”

She took a gulp as she swallowed another...ugh. Don't even wanna say.

“I don't know who would be who.”

“We set our own roles, baby,” I gave one of my signature smirks.

“No thank you. I'd rather just eat.”

Bluh. No fun. No fun at all. I would've thought that us getting out of the house and somewhere nice would've put both of us in good moods. Or at least...a non-destructive kind of good mood.

“Shouldn't there be more people here?” She asked.

“Hun, this is a high-class restaurant. I bet it's too bougie for most folks.”

“You know what I mean.”

Oof. I was trying to be evasive.

“Yeah...” I sighed.

“The only reason we're able to be here, not here at this restaurant specifically, but here as in outside of the apartment, outside of the ship, is because the ones who would have otherwise pursued us probably already succumbed to the global pandemic.”

“You know, I was really hoping you wouldn't bring that up.”

She grunted, and pointed her fork at me. “I know you pretty well by now. Even more than when I thought I knew you. I know you use humor to cope, but you can't just ignore the situation and go on like it's all fun and games.”

“Hey!”

I really just wanted to enjoy my meal; she sure loved playing the antagonist, huh? I watched her push her plate back and brought out a package of beef jerky out from her pocket and started munching.

“At least I know you're having a good time eating,” I conceded. It was some wonder how she could eat so much and still be so serious. Half of my plate of spaghetti had yet to be eaten and I was already having my doubts that I would be able to finish it all.

Jeez, what happened to the Velvet who could eat a whole thing of pizza all by herself?

“Not really,” was her response. “Eating just makes me ha--” She took a couple of deep breaths. “Full. Eating makes me full.”

I smiled and twirled the noodles on my plate as if they were ballerinas in a play. I must have been just as tired as the waiter, or in some kind of daze.

“That's the goal,” my voice carried a softer tone than usual.

“Heh. I guess so.”

I took a sip from my glass. Wine? Water? Soda? I couldn't even recall anymore. It tasted a little sour, a little fizzy. It could have been anything.

“It's just messed up what's become of everything.”

I nodded. What else could I have said to that?

“I mean, what kind of world do we live in where it's so dangerous to be ha...ha...” I could hear her breaths grow shorter. “Happy? It's really not fair.”

“I know. I want to do something about it just as much as you do.”

“Do you? Do you really? Because I don't see you doing anything. I don't see either of us doing anything. We're both just sitting here. Maybe you think we should, huh? I mean, we escaped with our lives and been through hell together, so it only makes sense, right? Don't we deserve to be happy? Don't I deserve to be happy?”

“Of course you do...” I mouthed the words.

“So then why? Why are you happy when I'm not? What is wrong with me? WHAT?” Her fists shook. Part of me feared something like this might happen, but I thought that it wouldn't. “WHY CAN'T I BE HAPPY?”

She began to laugh and all at once, she knocked all the stuff off the table. Our plates, the candles, they shattered. I glanced down and noticed a fire forming. She reached across the table and fork held firm in her grasp, swung down. Either my own hand, or my throat, seemed to be the target.

On cue, I grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY! I WILL BE!”

My grip tightened and the fork fell from her hand. I managed to fold my palms over her fists and hold her hands tight.

“I know it's not fair! I agree! You deserve to be happy! And you will be! I'll make sure of it!”

She took deep breaths. While it could have been risky letting go, I did just that and watched as her fists uncurled. That was when I seized the moment and interlaced my fingers in hers.

Her breathing slowed and she looked to be calming down. I saw her eyes widen.

“...Why are we holding hands?”

“I thought it would calm you down!”

Such a response made her face turn red and she looked away, though she didn't let go of my hands.

“That...that doesn't mean I gave you permission.”

“Oh, you're so stubborn!”

Before we had a chance to salvage our day, I smelled the smoke next to us and was reminded of the fire spreading. If that wasn't bad enough, I watched as everyone around us got up from their seats. Not in a panic, no, but each carrying that ominous grin.

“DID SOMEBODY SAY 'HAPPY'?” One said in a tone that reminded me all too well of Chuck E. Cheese's.

“I SURE AM HAPPY!”

“FIRE BURNING ON THE DANCE FLOOR!”

We looked back at each other and that time I knew we were on the same page.

“Run.”

We got up, hands still locked together, and bolted toward the door. I could hear the manager yell out “no one leaves until they pay!” but we ignored and pressed on. We were just about to leave when a steel wall came crashing down in front of the door.

“IT MAKES THE DOOR HAPPY TO KEEP CUSTOMERS INSIDE!” The restaurant manager's exclamations echoed.

Again, we gave each other a look, nodded, and took to the window. Luckily there was no barrier of any sort to keep us from jumping out. We landed on the sidewalk, not on our feet, but with a crash, and scrapes against our elbows and knees.

“Next time,” she groaned. “Let's just order take-out.” I watched as she let go of my hands.

If only I could have savored the hand-holding just a little longer...maybe back at the apartment. Yeah! We could do all sorts of intimate things back at the apartment!

As much as I wanted to think of and list all the sexy things we could (and would) do, my gaze shifted back to the restaurant. If it were just an empty building, I would have opted for the two of us to keep running, but oh, my stupid conscience.

Yeah, I know I'm not great or nothin', but who would I be if I didn't at least try to save them?

“Hey!” I yelled to a guy across the street. “Call 9-1-1! Tell them there's a fire!”

Maybe it was the tone of my voice that made him do as I said, or maybe he was just clear enough in the head to not be affected by the syndrome spreading. Wishful thinking on my part, maybe, but it seemed like he could at least put two and two together, and I watched him make the call.

I hope they can put out the fire. I hope there's any way for at least a few people to be saved. If they even want to be saved. Oh no...what if I end up endangering the fire fighters and then the 'happy' thing spreads and I just made anything worse.

I shook my head and stopped myself from continuing such thoughts. There had to be a way, and even if there wasn't, I still tried something. There was still some semblance of a world left.

“Okay, Butch, let's get out of here!”

“Hey! You used my name!”

Deep down I was still used to Mavis, but I myself have gone through many names, so I could respect that. What was wrong with a little name change, anyway?

We bolted out of there and continued running until we reached our apartment.

Although we had spent a bit of time in Paris, we didn't stay long, and we stayed in the ship the whole way through. I mean, I could've stretched or something. Not like I thought it would kill me to leave the ship. Velvet sure left the ship in spite of the danger she knew she faced.

It was still early into the outbreak, and although both of us were aware time was of the essence, much of the world was yet to be affected. Our concern then was more the worry that those in authority (CIA? Interpol? The Flashbulb?) would try to kill us both.

“Hey Mavis, I'm gonna go out for some snacks! Be back in a few!”

I was just laying back in the bed and trying to write schematics for building a robot, or some death ray. Just like the good ol' days. I really didn't like that she used that name, and she knew how I didn't like being interrupted when I was busy.

“Fuck you! It's Butch! And do you mind? I'm trying to make some new technology here! How are we going to take on an evil organization if we don't have anything to defend ourselves with?!”

She paused. “Right! Sorry! Butch! I promise I'll get it down, so just sit tight and I'll bring back munchies!”

“You better! And you better not die out there, ya hear me? If you don't make it back tonight, I'm gonna kill you!”

Velvet knew by now that I didn't want anyone besides me killing her and even then, I didn't even want to kill her. Anymore. That was the old me. Literally.

As soon as she waved and I knew she was gone, I went back to penciling in some blueprints.

“Stupid good-for-nothing shipmate,” I grumbled. “The world could end in a few months and what was she doing? Getting snacks, that's what.”

Although in a much worse state, the world would still be around a few months later. Deep down, I believed there really was nothing we, or anyone else, could do about it. At least I could take comfort knowing that when I died, she'd die as well?

I shook my head. That wasn't as much as a comfort as I thought it would be. I still wanted to live, I still wanted to know and define myself before I died. Like it or not, it was hard not to see myself as that 'thing' created with the mindset of wanting to be someone else. Not just anyone else, but the person I once thought I was better than. Or was it that I thought that person was better than me? Regardless, I didn't want to be that person who I felt so compelled to compare myself to. Not if I could help it.

Back at the apartment, I sat back on the couch and pulled up the foot rest to recline. It was the best I could think to do to calm myself. Whatever you wanted to call me, I'll be the first to admit to having quite the scare back there.

“I'm sorry.”

I heard her voice from behind me. I turned to see her in a chair, looking down at the floor.

“Don't worry about it,” I reassured her.

“I thought I was over that. I thought that wouldn't happen.”

So that was it, huh? She scared herself, too. The chivalrous me should have comforted her with a big hug or something, but the me on the couch was too tense to get up and do anything.

“Sorry,” she repeated.

“So what? You relapsed. It happens. I don't blame you.”

I said that. I meant it. So why did it come out in such a huff?

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying you're sorry. It's fine.”

“Sorry.”

“I said it's fine!” I snapped.

My heart jumped. That was the wrong move. I knew it. If it were any other friendship, I would have acted better, I knew I would. If we were lovers, I would have acted a hell of a lot better. But we were neither. We weren't enemies (not anymore, anyway), but...we weren't really anything else.

Even still, I felt bad about snapping.

“I'm sorry,” I got up and faced her. “I didn't mean for it to come out like that.”

She looked up, her eyes looked a bit misty. I hope that didn't mean what I thought it meant.

“I understand why it did.”

“Look,” I gave a toothy grin and pressed both of my index fingers to my cheeks. “I feel great! So let's dance! Everything's fine!” I did a little dance in place, leaning from one end to the other, keeping my smile going.

“Just admit you think I'm a burden,” even with her usual under-the-breath growl, it was still clear how sullen she was.

“I don't think you're a burden. I swear.”

I really am no good at this, am I?

“Don't lie to me. That's the LAST thing I need.”

I stamped my foot. There must have still been an ounce of adrenaline left in me.

“Listen: I think I'm a burden!” I pointed to myself. I must have looked like the greatest asshole in all of existence. Oh phooey. “The world could end any day now and I still haven't figured out how to do anything about it! I'm such a procrastinator that the world is literally ending and I'm still waiting until the last minute! I need a concrete deadline to even function! If Conrad was here, he could tell me to go and do the impossible and stop the world from ending before the day is over, and maybe I'd stress myself bald, but damn it, I'd find a way to do it!”

“You still can, you idiot!” She barked back. Oh, she was angry, wasn't she? While I wouldn't want us to fight, I preferred her being angry over depressed. “You broke into Area 51 and lived! Twice! You stole a ship, you stole precious data, and you stole a girl!”

“I...what?”

“Never mind that last part!”

Oh, no. I was going to mind it, all right. I knew I was. I burst into laughter and fell to the floor. My sides ached as I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

“No take backs!”

“Oh, fuck you!” I couldn't tell if she was angry or flustered. “It was the heat of the moment!”

I sat up and wiped my face. Looked like I had a bit of tears as well. What were they from? Laughter? Stress? Who could say?

“You don't want me to lie to you? Sure. I'll be honest. It's not easy. I didn't want anyone with me. I wanted to go this alone and I would have considered anyone who came along to be more responsibility than I would have liked. But...I'm glad to have this responsibility. You're important to me. I want to do all that I can to keep you alive.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I don't need you to be responsible for me just because you feel guilty over your friends dying.”

Oof. That should have struck a nerve, but I was used to it. Not like she was wrong, anyway, but still, oof.

“Hey! Low blow!”

“Yeah, you're right.” She must've realized what she had said was hurtful. “Sure, I like to provoke you, but that was much, even for me.”

“Heh. That's okay. I'm oddly into it.”

“Don't know why you would. Weirdo.”

“Hey, speaking of being provocative... “

“No! You shut up right now!”

“Make me.”

Butch leaped down from the chair and landed on top of me. I found my arms pinned down and I was on my back; in other words, I had become her prey.

“What are you going to do?” I egged on. “Going to try to steal my face? Going to try to kill me?”

“Even worse,” she whispered.

Ah, that was how my fate would be sealed, huh? Helpless at her mercy. Very well, I was going to accept whatever she had in store for me.

I closed my eyes and felt her breath against mine. Next thing I felt were her lips against mine. When I felt her pull back, I opened my eyes.

“Again,” I told her.

She kissed me again.

There were some perks to the apocalypse on the horizon. First off, we found an empty apartment, all furnished and everything. Just up a flight of stairs above a convenience store, no less. Best part was, there were no landlords to deal with. They must have been one of the earliest ones to go. All the better for us.

After we had staked our claim, Velvet landed the ship in a nearby vacant lot, and we got to work setting up our new pad.

Oh yeah. That was the other perk about the whole “end of the world” thing: it was quite easy for us to nab ourselves some furniture and electronics. There were a few shops left abandoned and fair amount of merchandise left unlooted.

“We really lucked out, huh?” She grinned.

“Yeah, yeah. This is only temporary, y'know? At least until we figure out how we're going to infiltrate The Flashbulb HQ and reverse the damage already done.”

If we can manage to do that at all.

“Lemme 'yeah, yeah' you back! We're golden, baby! We got the world in our hands!”

“People are dying.”

“Well, this IS only temporary.”

“THAT'S WHAT I JUST SAID!”

Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. We've been with each other for...at least a month? And that's not counting the few days spent underground back in the desert.

Neither of us bothered to learn the name of the city we had set up camp in. You'd think that would be easy enough to do, like the name of the city would be plastered around in enough places that there'd be no way we didn't know where we were at. Or hell, the ship's GPS could have told us. Anything.

But the reality was that we knew the name of the city, but neither of us thought of it by name, especially considering the world's condition. Rather, we just called it a city and carried on.

Both of us did our best to gather intel. I had already told her just where The Flashbulb's HQ was, but knowing where it was wasn't the same as knowing how to get there.

“It's in space, sort of,” I told her back then.

“What do you mean 'sort of'?”

“Well, it's like...in a space outside of space.”

“That makes even less sense!”

“I know! Look, I don't know how it works, either. But it's like, the station, craft, whatever. It's a giant...”

“Is it like the starship enterprise?”

“Uh...yeah. I guess so.”

“So we got a Star Trek thing in space, but it's...not in space?”

“It's in a place where time doesn't flow. But time flows inside.”

Velvet was getting irritated. For as smart as she could be, it seemed even she was having trouble wrapping her head around it.

“Each time you try to explain, it makes less sense! Like, if they're some time-traveling illuminati, and there's, like, an unlimited amount of universe, or some kind of bullshit like that, then wouldn't that mean that there's an unlimited amount of Flashbulb headquarters? At least, potentially, anyway? So how does time not flow outside, but it does inside?”

“Look, maybe all I know is bullshit. I mean, I only know these things because of what I learned in Area 51, which itself is red herring among red herrings. But if I had to guess, and for the sake of making another pointless reference, maybe it's like a Doctor Who thing?”

“Fuck it. What's that mean?”

“You know, one of those time-traveling phone booths? Like, maybe there's an unlimited amount of Flashbulb headquarters inside of the one, but there's only one on the outside.”

“But if we tore it apart from the inside, wouldn't it show on the outside? And, say they're overseeing this mess on Earth right now, but in a different universe, they never even come in contact with the entity that they used to infuse so much stuff with? Then what?”

“I don't know! It's not like I've even been there!”

She paced, obviously not satisfied with my answer.

“So we know they're behind this. We know they exist. We know they have a main headquarters. We may or may not know where that headquarters is. What we don't know is how to get there nor how to stop them.”

“I can one-up you.”

“Oh?”

Even saying such a thing made me feel just a little bit triumphant.

“We know the ETNA Corporation is a subsidiary of The Flashbulb. More specifically, the ETNA Corporation is the Morale Department.”

“Oh, right. I think I knew that, actually.”

“That's why I said 'we', you dingus!”

“Know anything I don't?”

I did, I knew plenty she didn't know. Just as she probably knew plenty I didn't. I had to have some secrets, too, didn't I? Then again, with the way she can get me to talk, there was always that chance of them spilling out at any moment.

“So what if I do?”

“Well, what do you know?”

Maybe I could've told her something small. What I told her instead was something I should've known better to do.

“You know when you lived in that one city with your partners Conrad and Kelly Roger?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Well, I did some research...”

“And?”

C'mon, I told her how the old man she gave a home to had been killed like it was no big deal. So why should I feel bad about telling her about her friends?

“No. I don't feel like telling you.”

“Come on!”

“Screw you! I can choose what to and not to tell you!”

“Please? I can take it!”

Hm...maybe she could. She was notorious for being tough.

“Well, I found out that both of them died.”

“What?! Did they do it?”

I shook my head.

“I don't know. It seems not even The Flashbulb knows how they died, just that they did. Conrad went through one of those elevators in an act of desperation and both Conrad and Kelly Roger's body were later found in the wreckage of what used to be that base under your group occupied.”

“I can't believe this...I should've been there. I shouldn't have ever left them behind. It was the same for Blanc. Why does this happen with everyone I meet?”

“God damn it! This is why I didn't want to tell you!”

“I should have been there...”

I could see her start to get agitated. Hm. What's something she would have said about anyone else in her shoes? 'That's not a good look for you'? Hm. Maybe that's not what I want to say.

“There's nothing you could have done, you idiot!”

“I could have protected them. I could have prevented it. Somehow, anyway. I'm sure of it.”

“You want to prevent more deaths? Then let's figure out how to put a stop to this!”

Oh, sure. I sounded so confident when I said that. As if there was really anything we could do to put a stop to what's already begun.

“If it was Kelly Roger, they'd be able to find all the info on The Flashbulb without having to put themselves in any danger. Maybe that kid didn't know much else, but I couldn't have figured out all I did the same way Kelly Roger could've.”

Oh, bother.

“Yeah, but if anyone but you were to do what you did back at Area 51, would they have survived?”

There. That should've gotten through to her.

“You're right. But I shouldn't have survived. I wouldn't have, too, if it weren't for several miracles.”

“YOU'RE GONNA DRIVE ME MAD!”

“Madly in love with me?”

I scoffed. “Ha. At least you retained your sense of humor.”

“Okay, but really, you think I could ever get you to like me?”

What was this? Was she some kind of puppy? No. That couldn't be it. She must have been employing one of her tricks. That, or she really was in such a place of weakness. I knew I needed to treat carefully, so I shook my head.

“I don't even trust you.”

“Aw, come on! Would I ever lie to you?”

Yep. There it was.

“Yes. You do it all the time!”

She sat down. “What if I told you something I've never told anyone else?”

“Like what? And how would I know you haven't told anyone else.”

“I'm 28 years old.”

“...What?”

“I've never told anyone my age. Not Conrad, not Kelly Roger, not Blanc. Not any random asshole on the street. I've just never felt the need to tell anyone.”

“So three years ago, when you were in that city...”

“25.”

“But how is that even possible? You were in the CIA at what?”

“21. I infiltrated Area 51 and took off with the ship when I was 23.”

“That doesn't add up, but then again, I'm not surprised. Nothing you say ever adds up.”

“Sure it does. I was young, but I can tell people I'm a few years older than I am and they never question it. I actually graduated college at 20.”

“How do I know you're telling the truth?”

She smiled her sly smile. “You don't. There's no way to prove I am or am not 28. Any records of me have been erased long ago.”

“Great. So I still can't trust you.”

“Sure you can! When I met you just a couple months ago, you were 20 and I was 27. Hm...now that I think about it, that's quite a gap for a relationship.”

“You were 27? So you had your birthday recently?”

She shrugged. “Probably. I can't remember when my birthday is. Head's too jumbled by all these other identities I've taken on in the past.”

“Also,” I pointed out. “I never told you I was 20. I was 22.”

“Ah, I thought I recalled you saying you were 20. I could've sworn. Well, I guess 22 and 28 isn't as bad.”

Maybe I did. Not all of my memories of previous incarnations of me were intact.

“And another thing! We're not in a relationship!”

“You mean we're not in a romantic relationship. We've definitely got some kinda dynamic going on here.”

“Bleh! And for your information, I'm not even 22!”

“Oh? Did you have your birthday recently too? So you're 23.”

“In a sense I had my birthday recently. But I'd still be 22 in a sense as well.”

“Explain.”

I really didn't want to. Why did I have to run my flap? That was supposed to be one of my strengths over her. She couldn't go without talking at all times, but me? I could keep quiet if I needed to. So why am I letting things slip while she's still got her secrets intact?

“I didn't survive Area 51.”

“Holy shit. Am I speaking to a ghost or something?”

I shook my head. “I really wanted to keep this from you...maybe I'm just a little different from my past self...”

“Your past self!”

Yes. She was already catching on.

“Etna appeared sometime after you ran off. The leader of the ETNA Corporation. She gave me a choice, a sadistic one, but those are the only kind of choices she provides. I took her offer. I stepped through one of the elevators. She made one appear, as if through magic. I wanted to go right to you.”

“So...”

“In a manner of speaking I've only been alive for a couple months.”

I watched as she clutched her head and shook it. “Ew. Ew. Ew. Why did you have to make this weird? You make it sound like I'm dating a baby!”

“WE'RE NOT DATING!” Deep breaths, Butch. “Er...I only went to you because I didn't know where else to go, only that I wanted out of that facility. We just share a ship together.”

“Ugh! If this was any other sci-fi or fantasy or whatever involving clones, something like that would never even come up! You're mentally and physically in your 20s, right?”

I shrugged. “Sure. And I've only been alive for a couple months.”

“So the one I spent time with underground who hated me, you're not her?”

“Correct. Then again, I am her. Just not the same her.”

Huh. It seemed I was taking things rather well. Velvet started grinning real wide. I hoped she hadn't caught that thing going around.

“So the one I've been with these past couple months doesn't hate me, huh?”

“Sure I do. Just not enough to kill you. I just put up with you.”

Velvet huffed and crossed her arms. Heh...whether or not I wanted her dead, I still loved the thought of pushing her buttons.

“Well, nice to meet'cha. Mavis, Butch, whoever you wanna be.”

I scoffed. “I wanna be me.” That's right. I didn't even want to be her, I just wanted to be me.

I woke up to a pitch black apartment. The clock on the wall said it was 3:33 AM. Cool. Witching hour time. That was when the magic happened, right?

I leaned my head up and saw Mav...Butch over me, resting her head on my chest. My...unclothed chest? I lifted my left hand and ran it down her back; it glided against her skin and that's when I realized: she wasn't wearing anything either.

Oh right. That. You see, one thing led to another, we got up on the couch, and...clothes were on the floor. Or somewhere. I couldn't quite recall. One of those heat in the...things.

I began to shiver. Fuck. Speaking of heat, the least we could've done was put a blanket over us! I tried reaching up to the top of the couch, but it was no use. No blanket.

You know, we have a bedroom! There are blankets there!

What was also no use was my continued shivering. Now that I remembered what led to all that, I felt wide away and could not stop from shivering. I shivered so hard that the kawaii gremlin herself fell onto the floor.

“Ow!” She rubbed her eyes. “What was that for?”

“I'm fucking freezing!” I got up and took a snuggie out from the closet. Poor thing must've been gathering dust. Well, mama decided it was finally time to bring you out.

“I was plenty warm...” She muttered.

“Oh, good for you! I could have died from pneumonia!”

“If you did, I would have laughed. Out of all the things to kill you.”

“At least you weren't suckin' on my tits in your sleep!”

“Do you have to say it like that? It sounds weird coming from you.”

“Or grabbin' my butt! Jeez!”

“Is sex all you think about?”

“It is when that's what led us to being passed out and naked on the couch!”

She didn't have a response to that. I saw her looking down at the floor, which either meant one of two things: flustered, or depressed. Lucky for me, it wasn't hard to figure out which. For as rude as she liked to act, she sure did fluster easily and when she got embarrassed, she'd just look away or look down at the floor and not say anything.

“I'm going to bed. Our actual bed.”

“Can you carry me there?” She whined. Whined? Begged? I don't know. She must've been so tired that she wasn't even aware of how she sounded at the moment.

“You can walk.”

“I'm still sleepy.”

“Do I look like I can carry you?” I crossed my arms, snuggie sleeves sliding over my hands. Damn, that thing was comfy.

“No. But I know you can.”

Rude and with 'tude. At least she was predictable.

“Fine.”

I went over and hunched down. She climbed up on my back and wrapped her arms over my shoulders, her legs spread out and also wrapped around...okay. I didn't want to think such thoughts. It was already past 3 AM. Both of us just wanted some sleep, I was sure.

“You're furry...” She murmured.

“I'm wearing a snuggie.”

“Share.”

“It's a one person snuggie.”

“No fair.”

“You have no room to talk. You got my body heat.”

I set her on the bed. Where there were blankets. As there should be.

Ah, then it was my turn. I crashed on my end, face down against a pillow. My, how I was glad there was so much space on our bed. Queen sized, because of course.

“I'm going to crawl in your snuggie while you sleep,” her tired impish voice threatened me.

“You can't...there's not enough room.” That was probably a lie. But she knew what blankets were. I needed that snuggie all to myself, dammit!

“Then I'll steal it from you when you're asleep.”

“Ah, so that's how you finally do me in. How dastardly.”

Face met pillow. Pillow invited face into her warm embrace. Pillow was the only lover face needed.

“Now that I'm in bed I can't sleep.”

I turned over. Ah, if she couldn't sleep, I wouldn't be able to sleep, either.

“So what do you want to do?”

“Stare up at the ceiling.”

“Yeah. That sounds like fun.”

“Would be nice if there were some glow in the dark constellation magnets on the ceiling.”

“Hell yeah, dude.”

“Hey,” she turned her head my way. I did as well. Even apart, we were still so close to each other. “I was thinking about earlier. At the restaurant.”

“I know. You're sorry.”

“I don't want to be like that.”

“I know.”

“It scares me.”

I gulped. Yikes. What could I say to that? That it scared me too?

“You aren't the only one who gets like that. I've seen folks on the street fuck each other in broad daylight until their skin rips off or their hearts give out. I saw a few folks chasing traffic, or folks in cars running into other cars in a sort of high-stakes game of bumper cars. There were firefighters setting buildings on fire so they had more to put out. People who can't swim going down waterslides. The list goes on.”

“I've seen some things, too. It's not just people.”

“Mhm. It's like logic has gone out the window. Some of the actions are more...in the realm of reality, but in other cases, it's like Wonderland. Either way, everything's affected. But I think it just affects the ones who have been cloned more.”

“Is that why you aren't affected?”

“Who says I'm not?”

“It doesn't seem like you are.”

“It affects everyone differently. I don't even know how to describe it. It's like one of those highs you get when you've been laughing with friends, but the high doesn't stop until you're all gone. It brings out those intense desires in people – It doesn't have to be sexual, mind you. Just anything that makes you feel good. From there, it's heightened to such levels where you're all but sure to burst.”

“It doesn't make me ha...” She started to hyperventilate. “Ha...ha...”

“Slow breaths. You got this.” I placed my hand on her cheek.

“It doesn't make me feel very good.”

“That's because you've managed to come down from it. When you're aware of how destructive it can get, sure, it probably wouldn't feel very good.”

“I've only managed to come down from it because of you. Why?”

That wasn't something I could say, was it? I didn't know the answer. Not in specific terms, anyway. I knew the gist: conversing with the source behind it all. But how could I explain that? I didn't know why the...thing...let her get back to normal, even if temporarily. Because I asked them nicely?

“Because I have the magic touch.”

“Okay.”

“Wait. You're just gonna buy that?”

She didn't say anything at first, then spoke again:

“What is it that makes you ha...feel good?”

“You already know the answer to that,” I teased.

She glared at me.

“Oh fine,” I relented. “Right now, it's helping you get to where you want to be.”

“What is this, a Hallmark movie? You're such a sap.”

“Hey, I answered! What about...at risk of saying something that could trigger you...”

“Nothing triggers me.”

“...What would make you happy?”

Her eyes widened. I thought I had really done it that time. Well, I did say 'at risk'.

“Being in control,” she answered. “Of myself. Knowing myself. Being myself. Being who I want to be, whoever that may be. As long as it's me.”

“I'd like to help you with that.”

Her eyes closed. So did mine. We both went back to sleep.

Just a few days prior to the incident at the restaurant, I had finally completed work on some of my personal projects while Velvet was away. Earlier that morning, she said she was out “shopping”, but of course it had to be something else. Nothing was ever just “shopping” with her. She was scheming something, I just knew it.

“Okay, computer, show me what Velvet's up to.” I spoke into the mic.

“Velvet is coming up the stairs.”

“What? Fuck! Fuck! Abort!”

No wait. That was perfect, actually. She could be my test subject...

“Computer, employ reinforced wall.”

I watched as steel plates slid out from the walls and pressed themselves against the door frame. With it, she was in for a surprise.

“Heh...heh...heh...”

Sure enough, I heard the sound of her footsteps click-clack as she approached the door. Then, there was the shimmy of the knob. First slow, then vigorous. The sign of frustration. Then...

“HEY MAVIS! WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?!”

Her shouts of despair was music to my ears. I couldn't help but burst into a cackle. But, there was just one problem.

“That's not my name!” I called back.

I wonder if she could actually hear my reply or if my voice was too muffled by the steel plating.

“OH! SORRY! BUTCH! WHY IS THE DOOR LOCKED?! WE NEVER LOCK THE DOOR!”

“Hm. Well maybe we should...” I grumbled. She of all people should've known how dangerous the world could be.

“WHAT'S THE PASSWORD?” I shouted back, making sure she could hear me.

“WHAT? JUST OPEN THE DOOR!”

“THE PASSWORD. WHAT'S THE PASSWORD?”

“SWORDFISH.”

“NO!”

“WHAT? IT'S ALWAYS SWORDFISH! ALSO, WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE!”

Oh. Well then. That changed everything.

“Why would it be swordfish? I don't know how your mind operates!”

“Neither do I! Just let me in!”

I sighed. At least I knew it worked.

“Computer, disengage the reinforced wall and open the front door.”

“As you wish.”

The door slid open and Velvet fell through. But it wasn't as slapstick as I would have it to be. She didn't fall to the floor, not one bit. Just a little wobble, then she regained her balance.

“Jeez! What was that? Oh, never mind! Look!”

Wow. Was she really not that impressed? I turned to see what she was so excited about. In her hands was a package of dry noodles. That was all. Nothing else.

“We're eating good tonight!” She beamed. “I got us some gourmet top ramen! You can tell it's good because it's got 'top' in the name!”

I glared at her. “Is that some kind of sexual joke?”

She continued to beam and just pointed at the name of the product on the package. Our eyes locked, but no response was given to me right away.

“Well...?”

“No, silly! 'Top' as in 'the best'! It's the best ramen there is!”

“I can never tell with you.”

I went back to my computer, working out some formulas and testing out various things. In the background, I could hear her hum as she strolled to the kitchen. If cheap ramen was her idea of gourmet, I didn't want to know what her idea of a simple dish was.

“Now that you mention it, you could be my top ramen,” she snickered.

I turned around in my chair. “Oh, come on!”

She walked over, hands on her hips. “We're both lesbians, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I like girls, yes. I don't like you.”

“Ouch,” she made a wincing face. I could tell she was still in her silly mood.

Sometimes you had to be harsh to have your peace and quiet. At least, that's how it ought to work. That kinda stuff just didn't seem to faze her, rather, she may have relished in it. I watched her grab a chair that was lying in the middle of the floor and sat next to me.

Maybe if I made myself more clear, she would leave me alone and I could get back to work. I could only hope, right?

“I don't think I could ever like you even if I wanted to.”

She turned her head and pursed her lips. “That bad, huh?”

Why did she have to dig it out of me? Sheesh. I really didn't want to deal with any sort of emotions. All I wanted to do was focus on my work.

“It's not like that,” the words came out absentmindedly. “It's just that I was programmed not to like you.”

“Programmed? Like you're some sort of robot?”

“You know what I mean. Like my personality was cultivated a certain way, tailored to however they wanted me to think and behave.” It really got under my skin when I thought about such a thing. How unaware I was for so long. “Everyone back there was like that.”

“Mhm. Yeah. Sgt. Michaels certainly wasn't so mustache obsessed when I came across him the first time around.”

That guy. Right. He was a thing.

“That's why it gets to me. I don't know what kind of person my original self was like. Maybe someone who admired or looked up to you. Or just someone at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I know. We've been over this.”

I slammed my fist on the desk. “Yes, but this is important to me! I'm still someone, aren't I?”

“Of course! So in that case, why does that mean you aren't able to like me?”

“You're really fixated on that?” I shook my head. “I was programmed to resent you, or consider myself better than you, or want to replace you. With so many times being recreated without my knowledge, it probably took its toll on my mind. I imagine I may have had some connection to you in the past, or thought of you in some capacity, but the way they engineered me, it turned into a hateful obsession.”

I inhaled the sterile air and drew a deep breath, then exhaled.

“Now, if you excuse me, I would like to focus my thoughts on something more productive.”

Those noodles were going to be overcooked, I was sure of it. But the thought of “gourmet top ramen” must have escaped her mind, as she didn't leave her seat at all.

“Like what?”

“My pet project.”

She snorted. “Your 'pet' project.”

“I don't like the way you phrased that.”

I clicked a button on my keyboard and bionic laser pointers descended from the ceiling and focused themselves on the annoyance next to me.

“Set scopes on Velvet.”

“Hey! You tryin' to kill me?”

“They're harmless. For now. There isn't any material for them to blast anything. They're just infrared rays.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched her get up.

“So that thing with the door? And these laser things? You've been working on all this?”

“I've also got cameras which track your whereabouts.”

“What?! Creepy!”

“I've only just used them today. Though I am curious what it is you do all day, considering what kind of person you are and all.”

“You still don't trust me?” She pouted. Bleh. What a terrible actor.

“Could I ever? You probably have some great plan that I'm unaware of.”

“Okay, ignoring that for now...” She looked away, as if embarrassed.

Yeah. I'd probably get rid of that. That just confirmed it: she had nothing. Still no progress after all this time.

“Anything else?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I duplicated the remote to your ship. So now I can get in and out whenever I want.”

She was taken aback. “What are you trying to do? Kill me and run off?”

“What's it to you if I am?” I grunted. “Though I'm not. I told you before, I don't have anywhere else to go.

“So what's all this for, then?”

“Working with tech's what I know how to do, even if such knowledge feels inherited, or false, it's still knowledge, nonetheless. We ought to be prepared for when we face off against The Flashbulb.”

“That may not be for a while.”

“How long is a while? In case you're forgetting, 'all the time in the world' isn't very much time, here.”

“I haven't forgotten! I just need to know for sure where this place is and how to get there! I can't just go off of hunches!”

“Push comes to shove, hunches may be all we got! If there's anyone I hate, truly hate, it's them!”

“Yeah, I get that, but it's not like you can take all this stuff with you.”

“I'm working on that. I'd like to have a laser-backpack of sorts.”

“Wild.”

There was a smell of super salty spices in the air. It was a rather permeating aroma.

“The ramen must be done!”

I'd pass and just opt for making pizza rolls. Seemed like the safer option.

Ah, the morning after. Still in the snuggie and everything. Yet I noticed when I woke up that Butch had wrapped her arms around me while I was asleep and was pressed against me.

“She claims to hate me, but she always seems to cling to me...” I groaned. I needed coffee. Or orange juice. Or coffee flavored orange juice.

That groggy feeling persisted, even after I pried her loose (I managed not to wake her up, some kinda miracle right there) and got up to fix myself a cup of coffee. Even two cups in, I was still dead tired.

“Yeah...not getting out of this snuggie. Too comfy.”

Another lazy Sunday was upon me. Or Wednesday. I checked my laptop just to confirm the date, then I closed it back up.

For a moment, I thought of curling up on the couch, a little velvety snuggie burrito, but instead, I did the noble thing and did the zombie stroll to the shower. Half an hour later, I was dressed and refreshed.

When the bathroom door opened, the steam that aired out seemed to signal my arrival back to the rest of the apartment, just like I was someone important. Like I was the main event, and I took center stage. The crowd would go wild and...

Butch was slumped over on the couch, bags under her eyes, wearing a navy blue hoodie and grey sweatpants. In her hands was a Nintendo Switch.

“Really? You get on my case about not doing anything but here you are, playing Animal Crossing?”

“Go away, grandma. Busy.”

“Excuse me? Grandma?! I'm not much older than you!”

“Can you keep it down,” she turned her head and looked like death. Eye crusties and messy hair. “I'm trying to bankrupt Tom Nook.”

“You should be proud of me! I'm in my important clothes and all! I've decided to take this more seriously!”

“You say that, and then...”

“I'm giving myself five days! We'll leave in five days, I'll find a way!”

“Make it four.”

Before I could argue further, the doorbell rang.

“Oh yeah. I ordered pizza while you were in the shower. Could you get that?”

I grumbled, but it wasn't like I was going to say no. While marching to the door, I fired one shot at her.

“I swear, you're the only person in the world who likes anchovies!”

“That's only because there's few people left in the world.”

Yes. Less than a week. Self-imposed deadlines never worked in the past. It was either impulse decisions or short deadlines set by others. But things were different. Things were different because I was getting bored.

I opened the door and faced the one at the other end. That same second, I wondered if the person I saw outside the door appeared specifically because I had made my decision.

#happiness overload #comedy #drama #horror #scifi #apocalypse #supernatual #surreal #happy #writing #stories #fiction #lesbians

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lady-harrowhark · 5 years

Text

A Spoonful of Sugar

Happy Royai Day everyone! A special update in honor of the occasion! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and sending such kind comments and reviews. I’m still baffled and thrilled that people enjoy and are excited for my little daydream world! Summary: Since her father’s death several years ago, Riza has dedicated herself to keeping Hawkeye Bakery afloat. When Roy Mustang opens a coffee shop next door, Riza finds herself getting more than just a caffeine fix. They’ve got their hands full managing custom cupcake orders, exploding espresso machines, and eccentric employees, but this new partnership just might be the best thing that’s ever happened to either of them.

Chapter Three: Vanilla Latte

Word count: 2691

first chapter | read on ao3

“They want to have it when?” Riza asked incredulously.

“Tuesday morning,” Olivier said without a single trace of apology in her voice. “I’ve let them know what an awful inconvenience this is for you,” she drawled sarcastically. “And money’s no object here. You can charge whatever you want. Tasting fee, appointment fee, short notice fee, booking deposit.” Riza could almost see Olivier waving her hand dismissively on the other end of the line. “You would not believe the budget we’re working with.” I definitely would, Riza thought to herself, knowing the kind of clientele Olivier had cultivated.

Riza thumbed through her planner, pages thin and crinkled, finally landing on the upcoming week. “I literally cannot do before eleven if they want a full tasting.” She tucked the phone against her shoulder and pulled down a worn binder from the shelf. She flipped through the pages, each with a different cake recipe. “What are you thinking?”

“Bride says she wants something exotic but will end up going with almond. Tell her it’s “French Amaretto” or something and she’ll be completely on board. Do a couple of more out-there flavors to satisfy her and then your regular wedding selection.”

“Have you discussed decorations?”

Olivier scoffed. “Have I discussed it with the bride? No, but I drew up a diagram of what we’re doing and it’s in your email already.”

Riza shook her head, still amazed after all these years at how Olivier’s imperious demeanor hadn’t landed her in hot water yet. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her no-nonsense attitude and uncompromising nature ensured her weddings were always the height of taste and class, and her services were in high demand. And with that demand, came a steep price tag. “I’ll look at it in a few hours. Will I need anything unusual for it?

“No, florist is doing most of it. Not your problem.”

“That is my favorite design.” Riza pulled a sheet of paper from the tray of a printer perched precariously atop the bookshelf that served as the bakery’s “office.” Binders and folders of various paperwork filled the shelves, and a file cabinet with tax and employee information sat next to it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was a system that worked. She shifted a few papers, looking for a pen. Snagging one from beneath a stack of delivery receipts, she started jotting down a few flavor ideas. “Any flavors completely off the table?”

“No lemon. It’s ‘common.’” Riza quickly scratched out ‘lemon lavender.’ Nevermind.

There was a muffled shout in the background, and Olivier made a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. “I’ve got to go, but just as a heads up, the groom’s mother will be accompanying them. Expect a bloodbath.”

The line went dead. Riza stared at the handset for a moment before returning it to the cradle. She’d figure out what that meant later.

With several events happening in town that weekend, the store had been exceptionally busy, and customers had been exceptionally cranky. It was barely early afternoon and Riza was already concerned at their dwindling supply of baked goods. That is, when she had a moment to think about it, between constantly refilling the displays and switching out batches from the oven. She’d enlisted Jean’s help to crank out some more single-serve products - muffins, cupcakes, cookies - while Falman continued to prep for the next day. Seeing the register total climb higher and higher each hour was a temporary balm for her nerves, though that was rather cancelled out by the frenetic pace of the day. It would be a long day, and so would the next, now that she had to prepare a custom tasting for Olivier’s couple (and the soon-to-be mother-in-law).

Out front, Sciezka had been running herself ragged, serving customers, manning the register, cleaning tables. Busy days were especially hard on the young woman, a natural introvert who, given the choice, would prefer to spend her weekends at her university’s library rather than working food service to afford her student loan payments. They had made it through the post-lunch rush, and color was high in Sciezka’s cheeks, her normally messy hair in even more disarray than usual. But for the moment, the shop was blissfully empty.

Riza grabbed a rag and began wiping down the front counter. “Why don’t you go take your lunch, Sciezka? I’ll handle any customers for now.”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you.” Sciezka was already untying her apron, hurrying towards the back room. She scooped a creased paperback and a granola bar out of her backpack and jogged outside to one of the two small cafe tables. Riza was always fascinated to see how quickly the girl could lose herself in a book - she wished she could switch gears like that, although part of her suspected that Sciezka never fully disengaged from her fictional worlds either.

Riza got to work swiftly cleaning down the countertops, refilling napkin dispensers, and sweeping crumbs from beneath the tables. After a morning spent making messes in the kitchen, there was something satisfying about cleaning them in the front.

Just then, a clatter rang out from the kitchen. Riza squeezed her eyes shut, imagining all the different catastrophes that could have made that sound. “What was that?” she called.

Jean’s disembodied voice responded. “I’m going to clean it up!”

She sighed. “That’s not what I asked.”

Jean strode into view, his broad chest blocking the doorway to the kitchen. “I know. But I figured you’d like that better than the real answer.” He braced his hands against the doorframe, barring her from peering around him. Riza cocked her head, her mouth a firm line as she fixed her eyes on his. He winced. “Fine, it was the cupcake tins, and yes, it went everywhere. BUT one tray survived and they’re going in the oven before I can destroy them AND I was just about to mop anyway. So it’s fine, actually, and you should just stay out here until I’m done mopping.”

Riza eyed the mess splattered across the bottom of his apron and remembered the four trays of yellow cupcake batter she’d left on the table for when the current batch came out of the oven. “For everyone’s sake,” she said levelly, “I am not going back there right now, but I will when Sciezka gets off her break, and at that point the floor will be spotless.”

Jean nodded solemnly before backing around the corner. Riza heard water running in the mop sink and the squeak of the plastic mop bucket wheels. I need a drink, she thought, then stopped herself. Things weren’t that bleak. Maybe just a cupcake when they’re ready, she amended. She pushed a hand back through her short hair and inhaled deeply, eyes closed. She exhaled and reached for the broom again.

A moment later, the phone rang. Riza glanced at the caller ID, praying she wouldn’t see Olivier’s number twice in the same day. Relieved to see a number she didn’t recognize, she answered.

“Hawkeye Bakery, this is Riza. How may I help you?”

“Oh good, Riza. Hi.” Despite having spoken to him only twice before, Riza recognized his voice. “This is Roy from next door.”

“I know.” Riza cringed, aware of how that must sound. She didn’t normally blurt things out like that.

Roy chuckled on the other end. “Did it come up on caller ID?”

“No,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “I just recognized your voice.” She leaned her hip against the counter, gazing out the window towards the street outside. Sciezka was still reading at the table, and the shadows were just beginning to lengthen.

“Oh.” He sounded somewhat bemused. “The reason I called was that we’ve got our equipment up and running and most of our stock in, and I’m hitting kind of an afternoon slump. I thought you might be too. What’s your drink?”

She definitely was hitting an afternoon slump, but she wasn’t sure how to answer him. “My drink?”

“Yeah. Like, what do you order when you get a coffee?”

Riza glanced at the coffeemaker on the back counter, which had just an inch or two of coffee left in the decaf pot. “Well… when I make coffee for myself here, I take it with milk and sugar. I don’t really order coffee anywhere else.”

“Hmm, okay. Tell you what, I can bring you just a coffee with milk and sugar, or I can take my best guess and make you something else, and if you don’t like it, I’ll try again tomorrow. What do you think?”

“You don’t have to make anything fancy for me, really.” Riza imagined Roy analyzing her, attempting to craft the perfect beverage using some mystical barista divination. The thought was endearing but made her feel incredibly self-conscious for reasons she couldn’t quite name.

“First of all, making fancy coffee is literally my job.” Riza laughed. She did have to concede that point. “And second of all, I owe you for all the pastries and things you brought over the other day. So if it’s okay with you, I’ll be over in a few minutes, hopefully with something you don’t hate.”

Outside, Riza could see Sciezka closing her book. As soon as she got off the phone, she was going to have to make good on her ultimatum about the backroom floor.

Reluctantly, she responded. “It is okay with me, but really, don’t feel obligated.”

The satisfaction was evident in his voice. “I’ll be over in a few!”

Riza was attempting to diffuse an irate older woman when Roy slipped in the door.

“I don’t want cupcakes,” the woman said slowly, as if Riza were having trouble understanding her. “I need a full size cake for a birthday. Is there another bakery nearby that DOES carry cakes?”

Riza shook her head. “The only other bakeries I know of close early on Sundays. The supermarket bakery section would have some though.”

“I don’t like cake from the grocer’s. If I wanted that I would have gone there already.” The expression on the woman’s face clearly showed that she thought she was being extremely patient with a ridiculous situation. Sciezka stood just a step behind Riza, watching with saucer eyes.

“I’m sorry ma’am. If you’d like to place an order for the morning, I can give you a discount, but I won’t be able to have a cake ready for you today.” Riza’s lips pressed together tightly, signaling the end of the discussion.

The woman slung her handbag over her shoulder and leaned in towards the counter. “This is not the kind of support I expect from local businesses. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my family.” She turned on her heel and hustled out the door.

Riza pursed her lips, watching as the door swung shut. “Happy Sunday, everyone.” She reached out, touching Sciezka’s arm lightly. “If she comes back, I’ll take care of her. I don’t want you to have to deal with that again.”

Catching Riza’s eye, Roy lifted the mug in his hand. “Looks like you could use this.”

“I really, really could. Thank you.”

After brokering introductions between Roy and Sciezka, Riza gestured for Roy to follow her into the back. Jean leaned back from the sink at the other end of the room long enough to nod a greeting before returning to rinsing dishes, and Vato called both a greeting to Roy and a goodbye to Riza as he left for the day.

Roy’s gaze wandered around the kitchen. Space was at a premium, but at this point in the day, everything was mostly clean, and the floors were indeed spotless. “Are you guys open for much longer?”

She shook her head. “Just until four thirty. I don’t normally stay ‘til close on Sundays but we’ve been so busy…”

“Hopefully this helps a little.” He held out his offering: a wide, heavy mug on a saucer. It was filled with something creamier than her usual coffee, and topped with a swirl of foam reminiscent of something floral.

Riza took the mug and lifted it towards her, inhaling the scent. “What is it?” she asked.

“Just a vanilla latte.”

She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, scrutinizing her reaction, as she took the first sip, pausing a moment to appreciate the flavor. “It’s really good.” She took another sip.

“I figure it’s a good starting point until you figure out what you really like.”

“I think I like it just like this.” She smiled and lifted the cup to her lips again as if to prove her point.

“You flatter me. You can check out the full menu next time you’re over.” Riza was surprised to find how good it felt for him to assume there would be a next time. Despite the newness of their acquaintance, there was an easy rhythm between them, a casualness that she so rarely felt with others, and rarer still so quickly. “How long have you had this place?”

Riza made a vague hand gesture. “Technically about seven years. But I’ve always worked here. My father started it so I grew up here, and when he died, it became mine.”

She knew it was coming before he said it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize about your father.”

A small smile flickered across Riza’s face, more in acknowledgement of his obligatory condolences than anything else. “Thank you, but it’s been a long time now. This was place was everything to him.” Sometimes she felt him here more than she would admit, could sense his disapproval at sloppy kneading and overbaked loaves, his pride in the structure of a perfect croissant. And other days, like today, he didn’t even cross her mind. Those days felt good and bad all at once, and Riza wasn’t sure how much she wanted to prod that particular hornet’s nest today. “Hawkeye Bakery’s been around longer than I have, that’s for sure. Almost thirty years now.”

Roy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Thirty years? That’s incredible. I can’t even imagine how much you guys have put into this place.”

He probably can’t, Riza thought. She grew up in this very store, standing on overturned crates to see over the table, working before and after school when she was old enough. “But what about you? Have you always been a… coffee person?” She sipped from her mug, an eyebrow raised at him.

“Yes and no… I grew up a few towns over, came here for college and worked in a coffee shop the whole time for beer money. Poli-sci, thought I was going to go to law school. And I did, for a year. And I hated it and spent every second wishing I was back in that casual little shop, making coffee and hanging out with our regulars. So I left. Spent a couple of years working my way up into management at another place and I finally decided I’d rather be my own boss and start my own place. So here I am.”

From law school to food service. She’s sure he’s heard it all about that particular choice, so she doesn’t ask. “Here you are,” she repeated.

He shrugged. “I don’t usually tell people I’m a law school dropout. They’ve always got something to say about it, but,” he gestured around them at their current surroundings, “I figured you’d get it. I’m sure you could be doing anything, if you wanted, and here you are as well.”

Riza looked down at the cup in her hands, rotating it slowly. “Now it’s my turn to be flattered. This is all I’ve ever known.” And besides, she thought, the time for that had passed long ago.

Looking back up at Roy’s easy grin, though, the tension she’d been holding from this hectic day was starting to drain away. The looming thought of staying until closing didn’t seem so daunting. Today was just another day in the bakery, just like the years and years before it, but somehow, with his arrival, it didn’t feel like the days she’d always known.

It all felt brand new.

Notes: I’ve been asked to start a taglist by @heavymetalhauswife :) If you are interested in being added to the taglist, please message me. You can also follow on ao3 (linked above) to receive email alerts when i post new content. Also, I’ve been posting here and on ao3, but do many of you use ff? If so, I can look into starting to post there as well, but I figured I’d ask before I added another step. Let me know!

#royaiweek19 #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai #royai ASoS #fanfiction #my writing

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poorvioletdraws · 5 years

Text

Tom vs. The Underworld

Chapter 5: Good Thing

I decided to wait until the next day to head out and see Raya again in order to give my family enough time to cool down from the excitement. My Mom seemed especially happy for me but I don’t really understand why. Raya was just a girl. I have many friends that are girls. Her and I just hit it off well. I mean, she cheered me up when I was feeling down and helped me get through some of my problems. Her family was very welcoming of me too; my parents would really get along with hers probably. I also think I just really see myself hanging with Raya more considering how the use of portals were finito and I can’t just run to Echo Creek to third-wheel it with Marco and Star all the time now…

I let out a sigh as I tried shaking the thought from my head. I know I support my best friends finally being together but why do I still feel empty? Am I trying to fill that emptiness by seeking out Raya…? Maybe right now I just want to be around someone who is different than what I am used to. She is someone who is consistent, and her life is normal. I really liked that feeling back in Yomi Town. Maybe I just want some form of regularity apart of my own world again. That has to be it...

As I soared through the sky with my fire blazing from my feet, I took in my surroundings. Was the beach always so lively? I guess I never really noticed since I was so engrossed in my relationship with Star when we were here together. I saw the vastness that was the Lake of Fire and the monsters that crowded the Dock of Unending Torment getting ready to partake in recreational activities that were anything but tormenting--fishing, swimming, sailing, etcetera. The sandy shoreline was just as littered with beachgoers that even all the Skull Ball courts were full. I then came upon Rochelle’s busy shop and saw she was getting rather slammed with customers waiting in a long line that weaved out the entrance and around the back. I bet she misses having her sister around to help. Maybe even as much as I miss her...

Instinctively, as my mind thought about Raya, my hands traced over the necklace we made together around my neck. Why have I been feeling like this about her? I’m not entirely sure but this is how I felt when I first liked Star… Ugh, it’s just because of my recent breakup that I’m still so emotional. I mean, it’s nice being committed to someone... Amazing, really... But I don’t want to use my friendship with Raya as a reason to rush into something serious so soon… Or do I? No, that wouldn’t be fair to her. I would just be selfishly trying to put her in Star’s place… But that’s not what I feel like I’d be doing nor how I feel about her… What am I feeling about her exactly... I need to know for sure.

And with that, I took my flame up a notch and jetted across the coastline of Lava Lake Beach with tremendous speed.

I came to the leisurely beachtown of Lava Shores within no time at all. It was quiet compared to the commotion down from where I started. This was a town where many of the more affluent demons and monsters came to retire to in their old age so there wasn’t much to see. Basically, it was kinda boring.

I strolled through the streets in hopes of seeing anything that would catch my eye like the gloriousness of Yomi Town, but I was disappointed. There were gigantic dunes making up the landscape behind the lakeside civilization that could have been used for sick off-roading or skeleton horse racing, yet it was fashioned into a golf course for a country club. Lame. There were an abundance of wineries, cigar lounges, and high-end designer stores like Zergdorf Badman and Siks-Six-Sixth Avenue being frequented by patrons old enough to be my great grandfather. Double Lame. I’m sure when I’m much older these kind of places would interest me more, but at the moment they were the epitome of LAME. Just a lot of snooty stuffed shirts too consumed by their own ego to notice their demon Prince casually walking by.

Before my lame-o-meter could tilt further, I came to a pathway leading out of town with a large gaudy sign pointing in said direction.

“Madame Morguerite’s Manor for the Magnific.” I muttered the name aloud a little bemused. That definitely sounds like the place Rochelle mentioned, plus the address matches. I can only imagine what I’m in for by heading to an establishment that sounds that cringey. How can Raya subject herself to something like that?

Not wanting to waste anymore time, I blasted off toward the finishing school, accidentally singeing the pompous sign with my fire.

The school was every bit as showy as the sign leading to it. Everything St. Olga’s was, this institution was not. It was an extravagantly posh chateau as if from a fairytale brought to life with walls made of gold that blinded you if the light caught it just right. It screamed wealth right down to its great entrance door made of marble. I swear I heard trumpets sound and a heavenly chorus sing just from looking at it.

“This really exists in the Underworld?” I questioned.

I was ready to move toward the building when I heard a shrill, sultry voice speak loudly enough as if to gather the attention of a group. I levitated around the side of the school and hid behind some hedges to observe what was going on.

There was a small assortment of teenagers dressed in school uniforms sitting at art easels in the middle of a flourishing courtyard containing all sorts of vibrant flowers and shrubbery clipped into angelic figures. Their demon teacher, the aforementioned Madame Morguerite, headed the class. She wore a tight floor-length gown made of white silk and a ridiculously long brimmed, veiled hat. Her eyes were covered by ivory cat-eye glasses and she took deep drags from her long cigarette holder in between instructions. You couldn't picture a more perfect headmistress for this place.

“You darlings will come to find that art is one of the greatest pleasures of the most esteemed Lord or Lady. To have an eye for it, you should first come to understand the work that goes into the creation in order to respect it.” The Madame spoke as she slinked between each student.

I peered at each teenager and tried to locate Raya. It probably would have been easier if the teacher didn’t walk in the way of my limited view from the bushes.

As if on cue with my complaint, the headmistress returned to the front of the class and the demon girl I had been searching for was revealed to me from behind her teacher’s previous position. My heart began to beat quickly seeing Raya again. She was in uniform but had her jean vest and a black beret covering her head as her wild scarlet hair fell down the side of her right shoulder. With each stroke of her brush, she looked quite proud at whatever she was painting.

“That’s why I had you copy this fabulous piece by a famous sculptor in order to give you a better understanding of timeless art.” The Madame gently touched her fingers to a pedestal positioned in front of the class. The figure atop it looked to be an ordinary bowl of fruit made of stone--though it didn’t look like a bowl of fruit to me, more like a bowl of misshapen large rocks.

“What’s so great about that pile of rocks?” I mumbled to myself as I glanced over to the ‘art’ in question.

“Now I will proceed to grade you on what you have completed.” Madame Morguerite announced.

As she inspected the canvases by her students--each one having mimicked the drearily gray figure down to the last monotonous detail--she gave praise and said how “splendid” they had done. Until she came to Raya.

“EH! What is that?” The Madame groused.

I shifted over to the other bush to see what Raya had created on her own canvas. While the other students kept their design simplistic and dull, I recognized the array of colors immediately. There were gradients of oranges, pinks, blues, and purples swirling across the page with half-circles of yellow splotches peeking from cloud-bursts. Raya remarkably recreated the scene of the dimension with a thousand sunsets! It was breath-taking and realistic as I felt the nostalgia coming back to me when we had gone there for the first time. Remembering that day made me want to keep feeling it and other new experiences, with her… That was what I was most certain of now.

“It’s my artwork.” Raya responded with a smile.

“Darling girl, this is not art.” Madame Morguerite snipped.

Raya (and I) looked at her puzzled. She replied, “... I’m sorry, ma’am--”

“Madame.” The headmistress corrected her.

“Oh, um, Madame,” Raya repeated, “I just wanted to paint a special place that I was able to see thanks to a great friend... Not many of us get to travel to other dimensions so I wanted to share this place with everyone. That’s what art should be after all. You know, something special to you. And not copying someone else’s work.”

“Ha, ha! A girl is a comedian, I see.” Madame Morguerite scoffed as she over exaggerated her laugh and began strutting away to the front of the class again. “How can you understand what is special and what is not when you can’t recreate a famous sculpture on paper.”

Raya began twiddling her fingers as if internally debating whether or not she should respond but then decided to speak up anyway, “Well… I think I know a thing or two about sculptures, being a Stone Demon and all… That’s just a pile of rocks anyone with basic knowledge could do. My sister has created better pieces than that--”

“Do not insult real artists!” The Madame snapped at Raya, turning on her heels to confront the teenage girl again. “Did you come here to waste my time and your fellow students’ time? I suppose we should all just learn from the city girl instead of the professional and accomplished teacher?”

“Madame, that’s not what I’m implying-”

“Your classmates come from Nobles, Lords, and Ladies and aspire to carry on such status. You, Darling Raya, should be more grateful to me for accepting you into my program in order to help you find a proper place in life. Or do you just want to be known as the daughter of any old stonemason and blacksmith?”

Raya grew defensive, “Excuse me, Madame, my parents are not just any--”

“Silence, we’ve no time for your bickering. We must carry on with the next lesson. You may taken upon yourself to now apologize to your classmates for also hindering their success.” Madame Morguerite commanded.

Raya glanced at the faces of her glaring classmates. She muttered an apology and hung her head, looking frustrated as she tried to hold in the creeping tears welling up in her eyes.

I was furious! I felt every sting of the words that the headmistress attacked Raya with as if it were directed to me. How dare that rude crone talk to her like that. How dare she insult her family like that. I can’t just sit by and allow someone to treat those I care about like they are nothing. Not today, not ever again!

Trying to remain hidden, my eyes lit up and I raised my hands to the sky. All of the paint cans by each student began to tremble and rise while they remained mystified in their seats. Suddenly, the cans shot towards the headmistress who was still unknowing due to her back being turned. The students had no choice but to gasp at what they witnessed next.

As the paint dumped onto the Madame Morguerite, turning her all white attire into this muddy mix of colors, she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Eeegh! What in the Underworld is this! You little brats, how dare you!” She shrieked while frantically wiping the paint from her face. “Who did this?!”

The students grew worried from being unsure of the culprit so they stayed silent. I on the other hand was trying to hold my mouth shut from busting out with laughter at the new appearance of the headmistress.

“Fine! No confession then no recreation time as scheduled for the rest of the week!” The Madame announced.

The students groaned in unison and tried to protest against her.

“Silence! And no points for this lesson for any of you. You will come to learn that harboring a TROUBLEMAKER is detrimental to your reputation and success. Now clean all this up and assemble in the Great Hall in ten minutes!” Madame Morguerite scolded the class and stormed out of the courtyard.

I saw Raya was trying to keep her giggle from being audible but had quickly changed her composure when she noticed the other students were glaring at her again. I heard them murmur “troublemaker”, “commoner”, and “city girl” as they proceeded to clean up their station.

Raya grabbed her canvas and took off in one instant, not wanting to hear anymore of her classmates’ remarks.

Maybe I shouldn’t have interfered… But I couldn’t just sit back and let her be talked to like that. Why would she want to go through something like this? These guys don’t know anything. Is this really how the social classes of the Underworld treat each other? None of these snobs are deserving of who Raya is. She’s amazing… Why doesn’t she see that? There has to be a reason behind her wanting to put up with this place and I need to find out.

As the other students began to head into the chateau, I quickly—and stealthily—followed behind them.

As the ten minute deadline passed, I was hiding behind a large pillar in the Great Hall of the school and saw the students were now sitting at long tables with Madame Morguerite walking between them. She was now much cleaner and wearing a high-end white suit with her hair pulled into a tight bun.

There were soup and salad bowls sitting in front of each pupil as waiters and waitresses went around filling them up and placing other dishes to the center of the tables.

“Dining etiquette is very important for the most esteemed. This is a time where you honor your guest and hold conversation about your expertise, business ventures, or entreat partnership with the invited.” The Madame explained.

“Geez, we don’t even do this at home.” I muttered.

“We must give interest to our party first and foremost. Engage them and show an interest in what they have to say because you never know where their status can get you later in life. Enjoying the food comes second.” As Madame Morguerite finishes her statement, the students proceeded to make small talk with each other while occasionally taking small sips from their soup.

Instead of conforming to the same practice as the others, I spied Raya completely ignoring the students next to her. She was gulping her soup bowl down and asking her waiter for more repeatedly. I chuckled at the sight. That girl really can eat.

“What are you doing?” Madame Morguerite asked peeved.

“Eating.” Raya replied between sips of her soup. The Madame shooed the waiter away before he could fill the bowl up for a fifth time.

“Have you not listened to what I have said?” The Madame looked ticked as she questioned the girl.

“Yes, ma’am—I mean Madame. But if you spend your time talking, the food will get cold, or my siblings will usually steal it.” Raya responded between mouthfuls of her salad she now partook in instead of her endless soup.

I saw a vein pop on the Madame’s forehead as she spoke, “Young ladies of prestige do not stuff their faces like piglets.”

“Well the portions are so small, you have to eat tons more between courses.” Raya complained as she was now gulping down the beverage in her goblet.

“Are you mocking me?” The Madame rebuked.

All the other students stopped conversing with each other and focused on what was going to happen next between the defiant pupil and the teacher.

Raya had been reaching for the dish at the center of the table but, upon hearing Madame Morguerite’s words, immediately stopped feasting to sit with her hands in her lap. She realized what she must have done wrong and told the headmistress, “No, Madame, I’m sorry if you feel that way… I meant no harm…”

The demon girl’s face was flushed with embarrassment again and I could feel myself starting to get angry at the impending backlash she would receive.

“No harm? If such restrictions as conversation with your party—who is someone more important and less gluttonous than your supposed upbringing—are beneath you than by all means, carry on. Eat, darling. A girl must be starving, it’s not everyday you get to consume delicacies as lavishly as this considering where you come from.” The Madame chastised the demon girl scornfully.

Some of the other students began to snicker and make “oink” noises under their breath as they joined in with their headmistress’s ridicule. Raya held her head down slightly with her bangs covering her eyes.

How dare they insult her like that! What kind of teacher is this? How can they be so cruel?! No matter where you come from or what your social class is, no one has the right to treat another so rudely! I had it with this place! I need to get her out of here before it gets any worse!

As I was preparing myself to intervene, the demon girl did something totally unexpected. To her headmistress’s dismay, Raya began to start vigorously eating again despite her classmates taunts. The students all quieted at once and I, now entirely confused, halted my charge.

Madame Morguerite grew agitated and snarled, “What are you doing?!”

Raya stared up at the headmistress with a sophisticated seriousness and replied, “I’m eating. You said to carry on so I intend to do just that and follow your instructions. Food may not be as important to you where you’re from, but for me and my family it is something we are grateful for. And we would never treat the ones we serve with such disrespect.”

I silently cheered for Raya as she stood up for herself; You tell her!

“You insolent girl! I’ll show you disrespect!” The Madame threatened while she raised her hand as if to slap the class troublemaker!

Raya was alarmed and held her hands up for protection but luckily I acted quickly enough before any harm came to her. I used my telekinesis once again to cause all of the bowls on the table to shoot out like an open hydrant and drench the headmistress with their soupy contents.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath as the Madame exploded with rage yet again.

“Eeeeeek!!! You little monsters!” She shrieked.

But instead of waiting for their headmistress to deliver their punishment, the students all fled the Great Hall with impeccable speed.

“No points for any of you for this lesson! I shall find which one of you brats is doing this, no matter what! With King and Queen Lucitor as my witness, I’ll find you!” The Madame declared.

I doubt my parents would see eye to eye with all you represent, Madame ‘Morgue’. Not their circus, not their monkeys. This is all me.

The rest of the day had kind of calmed down after the incident in the Great Hall. The students were confined to their dorms up until the Madame decided to proceed with the last lesson of the day. I was unable to retrieve Raya since she was in a “Girls Room” and, prince or no prince, my Mom taught me to respect females well enough to not go peeking in their private quarters.

It seems the students were all going to learn something that did actually pique my interest. They now stood in lines listening to their headmistress’s instruction on formal dancing. The ballroom was grand with a small orchestra playing classical music from a theater stage. I positioned myself behind a row of statues and observed once again, waiting for the opportunity to step in when Raya needed it.

“You darlings should be appreciative of me for giving you a chance at redemption.” Madame Morguerite commanded at the center of the half-circle the students formed around her. She was now less soupy and wearing a white poofy bell-shaped gown that was bedazzled with shining gemstones. “I will reward all points lost as well as the ones for this lesson to those that follow the criteria exceedingly well. Is that understood?”

The students unanimously gave a resounding, “Yes, Madame.”

“Now, choose your partner to complete this lesson. You will not pass without performing the dance together and as accurately as possible from how we practiced over the last few days. So I suggest you choose wisely and begin at once.” She warned while stepping away from the dance floor.

I noticed how all the students glanced over at Raya once Madame Morguerite finished speaking. They quickly separated from the Stone Demon girl and coupled up with those amongst themselves.

Raya was disappointed as the other students began to dance around her. She slowly took the walk of shame to the side of the dance floor where chairs were placed and slumped down into it defeated.

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Wanting to change for the better is all well and good, but she doesn’t need to be treated like this no matter what her reasoning is behind it. And she definitely won’t continue to be treated so harshly with me just bearing witness to it any longer.

Raya let out a sigh and hunched over her lap with her hands cradling her chin. “Of course this happens… Even here everyone thinks I’m a failure so much so that I can’t even get just one partner to complete this lesson…”

“Well lucky for you you’re going to have a partner that is THE best dancer at the Silver Bell Ball.” I smirked while standing in front of the demon girl with my hand out and finally revealing myself to her.

“T-Tom?!” Raya gasped as she automatically accepted my reach.

I brought her into a closed dance hold and gave a nonchalant “Hey”, though my heart wasn’t as relaxed as I played myself off to be. It began to beat rapidly and the nervousness from before returned; however, the music was steady so the pace I took would hopefully calm my palpitations with each step. Having her in my arms really affirmed how I’ve been feeling about her. I just hope I don’t mess things up between us because of my own desires.

I saw Raya blush once I started to lead. She stammered, “Y-You’re here!”

“I’m here.” I smiled as I dipped her.

“But why?” She asked as she came back up into position. I noticed a lot of her classmates were now focusing on us, and they were rather intrigued too. Of course, I tend to have that effect.

“More importantly, why are you here wasting your time with this place?” I replied while turning us around in a small circle.

“Oh… um… Well…” She trailed off for a second as I slowly spun her in place. “...I just wanted more training... And lessons in proper etiquette…”

“Uh-huh, and why?”

“Well… You are a prince and I’m just an… ordinary girl from the city… From an ordinary family…” Raya murmured. She now tilted her head away towards the ground and her bangs veiled her eyes.

“Okay, so what?” I asked as we stopped dancing completely but still holding on to each other.

Raya continued to speak while not meeting my gaze, “I don’t know, I’m just constantly referred to as the black sheep of the Belmontes--a daydreaming slacker with no interest for the family trade… I’m rather unconventional, I guess…”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you do know that right?”

Raya still looked uneasy as she tried to clarify, “... I just thought this would help me find more direction... But I feel I still can’t even get this right anyway. Everyone is so passionate and... headstrong... and ambitious when it comes to who they want to be. They are the future Lords, Ladies, and Nobles that will serve you one day. You are and will always be surrounded by royalty and all that… I just didn’t want to be an embarrassment if I were ever in your presence again…”

“You would never be!” I blurted out a little shocked at Raya’s revelation. My change in tone startled her but also made her finally lock eyes with mine. How can she be so clueless to what I think of her. I would be miserable if I were only able to associate with people like the ones here for the rest of my life. I mean, if she were to even meet Star, she would understand where I’m coming from and that lofty titles doesn’t represent your personality.

I gave her a half smile and continued, “You don’t need any silly lessons and you definitely don’t need to try and impress these boring guys. And you and your family are anything BUT ordinary. I think you’re great the way you are. Don’t let some lame stuck-up tell you otherwise. Dance the way you want to!”

Raya’s soft grasp on my hand and shoulder became firm as if seeking some form of intimate security. Her honey eyes were radiant in the ballroom light while her lips were parted in a way that almost gave off a hint of invitation for me. I probably would have kissed her right this moment if it wouldn’t make it weird. I mean, I haven’t even asked her out yet. But still.

“What have I done?” Raya said with a sigh as she looked around the room. “I really thought this would help me but it just made me almost lose myself. I mean look at this place. It is boring, isn’t it?”

“And lame.” I added as we both started to laugh.

Suddenly, I had a great idea. “Hey, why don’t we liven things up a bit!” I suggested while grinning mischievously.

“Huh, how?” Raya asked curiously.

As if on cue with her words, I raised my head up toward the ceiling and began chanting while all three of my eyes glowed brightly. I slowly levitated both Raya and I slightly off the floor, though I almost lost focus when I felt her press against me surprised from the sudden change in footing. The room began to tremble and shake making it difficult for everyone to keep their balance. The musical ensemble ditched their instruments on stage and escaped from the room as fast as they possibly could. And from the ground where they once stood, a new group of undead musicians took their place as they emerged from the now split surface on the floor. But instead of suits and clean-cut appearances like their previous openers, this group had ripped jeans, leather jackets with studs, spiky hair, piercings still in tact on their rotting flesh, and all sorts of rebellious staples. They picked up the instruments left behind, if they didn’t have any already, and belted out harsh melodies of standard Metal.

Immediately following the spectacle, a great crack tore open on the dance floor as more undead partygoers dressed in Rock ‘n’ Roll attire began to thrash around, causing quite the ruckus. Raya and I on the other hand were jamming out with the rest. It was awesome!

“What is this horrid display of downright--Gah!” Madame Morguerite tried intervening but was pushed repeatedly aside by the fleeing students. She glanced over to see Raya and I enjoying the entertainment and became furious. She started for us in a mad dash as she screamed, “How dare you besmirch my school, you uncivilized monsters!”

“Hey, thanks for the compliment.” I mocked. I held on to Raya’s hand and led her away from the ensuing commotion.

The undead rockers weaved in between us and the headmistress, grabbing hold of her and tossing her around in the air, now involuntarily crowd surfing.

“Eeeekkkk! You’ll pay dearly for this!” She shrieked.

Raya and I couldn’t contain our laughter as we watched the scene unfold. Justice was indeed served.

Watching Raya happy ignited that feeling once again deep down inside of me. Even though I’ve known her for a short time, this felt right. This is how it should always be. Us together just having fun. Well, just us together doing anything really is fine with me. I know now what I must do. I can’t wait any longer. I need to tell her now. I want her to know how I feel about her.

I looked over to her and told her, “Hey, this place is the worst. Let’s get out of here.”

Raya smiled back at me and replied. “Alrigh--whoa!”

In an instant, I swooped the unsuspecting demon girl up in my arms as if she were a damsel being rescued by a superhero and eagerly jetted us off toward the nearest window without hesitation. She had her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck for support so I was able to bring out the hand that was holding her back and blast away the glass with my flame effortlessly. We then proceeded to fly away in hopes that this would be our last encounter with Madame Morguerite’s Manor for the Magnific.

We landed just outside of Lava Shores on one of the many sand dunes bordering the town. I knelt down in order for Raya to regain her footing onto solid ground again. But before I could stand up completely, it was my turn to be surprised as the demon girl unexpectedly closed the space in between us and embraced me in a friendly hug. I definitely wasn’t going to complain.

“Thank you, Tom!” Raya exclaimed. She released her grasp, though I mentally objected, and now clutched her hands together excitedly as she spoke, “I didn’t know you could do any of that. So it was you all along, wasn’t it? You did all that with the paint and the soup bowls too?”

I itched the back of my head with one hand and replied, “Yea, sorry for interfering. I just couldn’t stand by and watch how that hag treated you. I hope you aren’t upset.”

“Of course not, that was so wicked cool!” She gave me a genuine smile but suddenly grew concerned after realizing something. So she asked, “Um… Not that I’m not happy to see you, I really am. But what happened? I thought you went back to work everything out with your girlfriend?”

Taken aback by her question, I thought over the best way to answer it without her worrying if the outcome may be a result of the time we spent together in Yomi Town, but there was no need. She helped me reach a decision in a way that benefited everyone. So I just went ahead and told her straight up, “Yea well… About that… We kind of decided that it would be easier if we… broke up…”

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry!”

“No, no. It’s cool, actually.” I assured, “It was something we both mutually accepted and all that matters is that we can still be friends. All of us…”

Raya raised an eyebrow still unsure and asked, “Are you sure? It still had to have been very important to you and hard to come to such a decision… I’m glad you were able to figure it out but are you really okay?”

“Yea totally. I thought I would be in more pain than what I am, but a lot of… events happened after our breakup and I think it all helped me realize some things about myself. The both of us were just heading to different places in our lives.”

Raya gave me a reassuring smile as her response.

I took a deep breath and continued, “So... It kind of… Brings me to my other reason of… of why I’m here t-today…”

I started to get nervous as I looked into her eyes. Why am I feeling this way all of a sudden? Am I anticipating some kind of rejection? No, I think we both are on the same page here. It’s going to be okay.

“Tom?” Concern crossed Raya’s face while still waiting to hear what I was trying to say.

I took another deep breath and tried to tell her, “Okay, look, you helped me a lot when I was going through all of that angst and… Um… You see, you’re really--Um… Your family is really…” I couldn’t stop stumbling over my words. Looking into her eyes were weakening my confidence all of a sudden. “Okay, this is rather embarrassing. I knew what I had to say but now it’s not coming out right… Ugh!” I clenched my eyelids together in frustration. Why was this so difficult?!

But suddenly, I felt a warm hand gently cup the side of my cheek. I shot my eyes open to see Raya’s reassuring gaze and felt that strange, indescribable feeling return once again.

“It’s alright… Try to calm down and take your time, it’ll help you gather your thoughts.” Raya spoke in that benevolent voice of hers as she brought her hand away from me. Was it wrong of me to want her to touch me again? It made me feel as if I could do this and tell her what I wanted to say--what I should’ve said before leaving her after our time in Yomi Town.

I cleared my throat and let my courage carry me through as I said, “Okay, if it wasn’t for you, I think I would still be hurting and I never would’ve realized what is best for me right now or for the future of the Underworld. You didn’t have to spend time with me through that moment of crisis, but you did. And I’d like to believe it wasn’t just as a service to me for being a prince but more for who you are as a person.” I took both Raya’s hands in mine and stared at them through half-lidded eyes. “And that is something that I like about you very much. So… I think I want to see where this goes...”

It was hard to tell if Raya understood where I was going from the look on her face. She seemed perplexed by my revelation but had those same dreamy eyes I’ve been falling for. This is it, I can do this.

So I tried to clarify better while looking into her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is… I think we got a good thing going and… I don’t want to see it end...”

“I love that song!” Raya exclaimed happily as she clasped her hands together, releasing our bond.

“Hm?” It was my turn to be confused.

Raya smiled coyly at me. “D-do you want to... hang out sometime?” she asked.

Yes! She understands!

“I would like that very much…” I grinned as I went in to hold her hands again but this time Raya stuffed her own hands in her pockets as if searching for something.

“Alright! My friends and I are meeting at the arcade, Tartarus, this weekend. You should come.” Raya suggested, completely oblivious...

No! She doesn’t understand…

“Oh… Okay.” I felt a little let down from her response. Was it not obvious enough of what I meant? Or was she playing as if she were clueless just so we’d stay friends? No this is genuinely her. I need to try harder and show her how I feel about it…And I guess it is best to take things slow and not rush into anything just yet… Sucks though...

Raya took my hand in hers and pulled a pen from her pocket. “Is it okay if I write my address here?” She blushed as she asked.

“S-sure…”

“Alright.” She beamed. “You can pick me up from my home at like noon and we can walk there together, if that’s alright?”

“Sounds great.” I gave her a half smile.

As I watched her scrawl her address on the back of my hand in cute bubbly letters, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I cared about her. How could she not know? I came back in part to see her again and was upset if she were one of the ones I’d never see again from that incident at the gate. I told my family about her already. She came into my life unknowingly and doesn’t notice how important she has become to me. From all the heartbreak and stressful moments I have been having lately, Raya has become apart of my best days here. If this is how life in the Underworld will be than I’ll gladly accept it. She has shown me things I’ve never known before and I want to see more with her. We have so much fun together and I need her to see that.

So I suggested, “Hey, you want to race back to your sister’s store?”

Raya got nervous and said as she blushed, “Um, I don’t think I would win that race. I’m not fast and can’t fly like you can.”

“Haha, nah, I have a better idea!”

As the day was drawing to a close, Raya and I galloped across the sandy shores of Lava Lake Beach on skeleton horses. Our laughter and cheers filled the air as we rode on, joining the sounds of all those joyous beachgoers I had seen from earlier. I wish time would just stand still at this very moment. The future of the Underworld was becoming one I could definitely look forward to, even more so now than ever. I hope that it can always stay this way.

But little did I know, an otherworldly being not too far off in the horizon had other plans. While the waves of molten rock growled, so did something from beneath that took refuge lying in wait for its time to strike; recharging its energy after its failed attempt at keeping the gate to the Underworld within the Musty Mountain sealed.

#svtfoe #OC #starvstheforcesofevil #oc fanfiction #star vs the forces of evil #tom lucitor #The Underworld #TomVSTheUnderworldFanfic #TVTU

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astraljedi · 6 years

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Craving Something Sweet Part 7

Summary: A crazy shift at Pop’s changes things for Y/N and Fp’s relationship.

Warnings: The character (Y/n) is over the age of 21. Swear words. Family problems. Mention of religion.

Tags: @sleepylunarwolf @mariechristine91 @florenceivy @alitav99 @riverdales-vixens @imagines-reblogged

The Lodge family were hypocrites. They prayed and believed in God, what’s supposed to be the good; but were always caught in the evil.

Carrying secrets, withholding the truth from loved ones and leaving ashes everywhere they go. The fire of the Lodge family, the family gang wasn’t for everyone. No outsiders were allowed, sometimes even their own blood.

The family thought Y/N was too soft, too innocent for what the family business was all about. She needed to be raw, heartless and intimidate everyone around her.

She wasn’t feared, she was admired. And for the family, that was shameful.

Being the oldest you would think she would have the power, but with her family knowing that she had sin; she was cut out of the picture.

“I can’t believe you’re missing my confirmation over work.” Veronica cried while she was getting her gorgeous white dress tailored to perfection.

“I rather be at Pop’s with the awkward tension between FP and I than having abuelita lecture me about the sin of sleeping with the enemy.” Y/N said before taking a sip of her water. “Also, the family doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“But it’s important to me.” Y/N felt that, it shattered her heart but she needed to be selfish. Veronica sighed in defeat, she wasn’t going to win that one.

“You know all of this is for them, they think that by standing behind God and their beliefs will get them out from hell.” Y/N began. “They are savage killers and just pure evil. I rather stay away from the hypocrites.”

“Mija, stop trying. She has made up her mind.” Hermione shrugged, taking a seat next to her oldest.

“I’m also staying with a friend, I don’t want to even be near abuelita and tia while they gossip about my decision on leaving the family business.” Y/N rested the bottom of the empty cup on the table before her, standing up from the cream sofa. “I have a late shift tonight, love you.” Hermione smiled as Y/N gave her a quick peck on her cheek and waved goodbye to Veronica as she grabbed all of her stuff.

With the black hood gone, the curfews also disappeared with the memory of the serial killer that had haunter the town. With meant that Pop’s was even busier that before.

“Hey Pop! Looks like you’re ready to leave.” Y/N giggled at Pop who was already handing her the spare key of the diner.

“I’m just glad that you’re back, now I can go home and relax knowing that the diner is in good hands.” Pop said as he headed out the door. “Also, I called in an extra hand before you came in. Just in case it gets a little too busy.”

“Who did you call?”

“Extra cheese burger with light onions on the side.” FP called the takeaway order, Y/N’s heart beating hard in her chest. The breakup was hard, but not knowing of him hurt more. Before she could turn around to Pop, the bell above the door rang and Pop Tate was already out of the door.

Avoiding any contact with FP, she managed to slip herself to the back quietly. Placing her items in her locker, the anxiety grew every minute that passed. She was preparing herself mentally to see him a few times working the same shift as her, but she never thought it would be that soon.

Fixing her uniform, Y/N grabbed her notepad and headed towards her first table of the night. It was a lovely family of three, she smiled at the energetic five-year-old who shouted her milkshake order at Y/N. “I’m sorry, she’s excited.”

“Don’t worry, I used to do the same when I was her age.” Y/N giggled, removing the page from her notepad before excusing herself from the family. FP watched her from the counter, she looked gorgeous with anything. Her hair was tucked back into a messy ponytail, her cheekbones standing out even more.

“Dad, you might want to stop staring. It’s creepy.” Jughead said before taking another bite of his burger.

“Mind your own business and eat that burger quietly.” FP shrugged, giving Y/N once last glance before she went to another table.

Something not out of the usual, annoying seniors coming in and acting like they own the place. Always screaming and making everyone around them uncomfortable with their nasty comments and their loud behavior. “Okay, if you guys settled down I might catch your orders.” Y/N spoke up, raising her voice a bit.

“And I might catch your number sweetheart.” One of the boys began, flexing his muscles at Y/N.

“For what? Your mom needs a babysitter?” Y/N rolled her eyes, his friends laughing loudly at her comment towards him. “Now be a good kid and tell me your order. The kids’ menu is on the back.”

“Bitch.” The boy said, pushing the milkshake he had in his hand on Y/N uniform. She squealed from the cold beverage as it stuck her uniform with her skin. FP was the first one by her side, Jughead tried to stop him but he was already by her side.

“Excuse me, if you’re going to come here you might as well treat this young woman with some respect.” FP’s presence only made Y/N jump. She wasn’t expecting him to be so damn close to her. “Now this isn’t the first time you and your group of friends come here and break things like this is your own home. So I’m asking you and your friends to leave before I call the cops.”

“Whatever old man, the shake was shit anyways.” The boy stood up, standing in front of FP trying to intimidate with his height. But once he saw the snake tattoo, the boy’s eyes changed. He quickly grabbed his friends by the shirts and literally dragged them out of the diner.

Without a word, Y/N sighed and knelt down on the floor to pick up the broken pieces of glass. “Hey, go to the back and get cleaned up. I’ll handle this.” FP whispered to her, pulling a stray strand of hair away from her face.

“Thanks.” It was barely a mumbled but it was something. With her head down, she made her way towards the back trying not to meet with the eyes of her customers who had to witness such a thing. It was embarrassing.

With her staying the majority of the time behind the counter, FP managed to keep every customer happy and finish up all the orders for her. She felt sticky and dirty, she didn’t want to look unpresentable in front of her customers.

“I’m heading home.” Jughead announced, closing his laptop shut after being on it since he arrived.

“Take some food to go Jug.” Y/N offered, handing him a very full bag of food. He smiled at her and thanked her. She knew him to well and he was going to be starving in a few hours again.

The diner was officially empty, it was only Y/N and FP for the rest of the night. Quietly, Y/N grabbed some cleaning supplies and started cleaning up a few tables that were left a mess. Meanwhile, FP was in the back scrapping the food that was stuck and burned in the stove.

If it wasn’t for the music playing from the jukebox, they would’ve been in complete silence. It made it feel less awkward than what she could’ve imagined.

“Shit!” FP groaned loudly from the kitchen. Y/N worriedly ran towards the back only to see him holding his index finger with his other hand.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, walking towards him. She grabbed his hand only to see his bleeding finger.

“I was doing the dishes and I just stabbed my finger with the edge of the knife.” He said, hissing out of pain when Y/N touched the bloody finger to get a closer look at the bruise.

“Stay still FP! I need to see if you have a deep cut or not.” This time, FP kept his mouth shut as she inspected the cut. “Thank God it didn’t go in deep. No stitches for you, just some disinfectant and a bandage.”

“You sure? It hurts a lot.” FP looked at his finger closely as Y/N went to get the first aid kit from underneath the kitchen sink.

“I’m sure, the first few weeks I started working here I was full of cuts like this. It hurts a lot but it isn’t a big deal.” She was calm, one of the reasons he loved about her. The world could be ending and she would be optimistic that it won’t happen. “Now this is going to sting a lot, but it’s nothing a snake can’t handle.” She chuckled and he did so as well, until the disinfectant touched his skin. He hissed and cried out a bit as she sprayed his finger with the cold liquid.

“That wasn’t funny.” FP whined, making her giggle at his drama. And for one moment, it felt like nothing had happened between them. Like they were back to normal, where he didn’t join the gang again and where she didn’t break up with him the night of his supposed retirement party. “I’m sorry.” He added, caressing her cheek with his good hand once she had finished bandaging his finger.

“I know you did it for Jug, he didn’t tell me all the details for obvious reasons but he did explain. I just didn’t have the courage to talk to you after, I was scared.” Y/N mumbled, keeping her head down.

“Scared of what?”

“Scared that you were too lost in that world, a world that I have no idea of and never will.” Fp lightly rested his finger on her chin, making her look at him.

“I don’t want you to be in that part of my life, It’s too dangerous and I need you safe.” Fp ran his hand on her back as she rested her head against his chest. “I wish I could protect you, but I can’t even protect myself.”

“It was all easier before, when it was only you and me.” Y/N added, pulling away from his embrace. She wiped her tears away and cleared up the items she had taken out. “Also, my father isn’t a huge fan of the south side currently.”

“What else? The town forms a riot against our relationship?” FP sighed, taking his hat off and running his hands through his hair.

“This is some cheesy Romeo and Juliet shit.” Y/N chuckled with tears still running down her cheeks. “I’m going to finish cleaning up the front, please don’t cut your finger again.”

“I’ll try my best sweetheart.” FP smiled back at her, trying to cheer her up a bit.

By the time the sun had risen, Pop was already walking in through the door. “Good morning, how was it?”

“Besides kids being kids, it was nice.” Y/N smiled, already grabbing her purse from the counter. “I hate to rush but family is arriving today and I need to do some things before the big arrival.”

“It’s okay, take care. You too Jones.” Fp gave the boss a small smile before opening the door for Y/N. But before Y/N could make it to her car, she could already see her windows were shattered and her front tires were slashed.

“Oh God, no.” Y/N stepped into the broken glass on the floor to check the belongings she had in them only to find them ripped all apart in her seats.

“Hey, be careful.” Fp pulled her away from her car, making sure she wasn’t the next person with a cut.

“What am I supposed to do? I was supposed to sleep in here while my family stays in town and now I can’t even drive home.” Y/n was furious, but mostly upset that she might have to stay at her house with her abuelita and tias.

“You were going to sleep in your car? I can’t let you do that.” Fp unlocked the doors to her car and pushed everything he could into the huge bag she had them in previously. “You’re staying with me.”

“We can’t, if I stay we’re just going to end up where we started.” Y/n followed him back to his car, trying to get her bag from him.

“Would it be that bad if we go back to where we were? We can do better.” Fp said, opening the car door for her but she stood still not moving to get in. Rolling his eyes, he threw her bag in his truck and grabbed her hands into his. “Stay with me, just one night. If you want to leave after that, then I won’t stop you.”

Staring back at him, she couldn’t push herself to say yes. She wanted to, but was it the best decision?

“Please, stay with me...”

#fp jones #fp jones x reader #fp jones smut #fp jones one shot #fp jones imagine #riverdale #riverdale smut #riverdale x reader #riverdale one shot #riverdale imagines #fp jones imagines

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robotsynergy · 3 years

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Come Home With Me

It was a dreary day with grey skies and what seemed to be an endless drizzle. I sat staring out the window. Beads of water trickled down the glass slowly, everyone seemed to be moving about slowly as if not interested to participate in the day’s events. I let my glasses slide to the tip of my nose to have a better view of those outside in their bright neon yellow reflector vests waving illuminated red wands in the air. It was just another mundane Monday on a grey late autumn afternoon.

I purposely placed myself facing the window, I didn’t want to see those behind me, I could hear them, their innocent chatter, the ruffle of a newspaper, that vinyl sound of finger tips running across a smooth magazine page, the faint sound of someone’s headphones blaring music loudly in their ears. I glanced down at my stomach as my knot grew tighter. It was a pain that has been slowly growing as I came closer to this day. It felt as though the knot were tighter than ever and its grip strained my gut. I need this knot to be loosened, and the only way to achieve that is to seek my revenge. Yes, revenge a drink best served as blood, preferably warm blood. As I sit here hearing the shuffle of people about their daily routine I know it is my time; my time has arrived for me to make history, change history forever. I’ll merely be a small role in a large play, I am merely a spark, but it takes the spark to lite the fire. The play isn’t complete without my role. Am I nervous, afraid? I sure am, I am afraid of failure, not death. If I fail it will be harder to replace my role in this play and I am a solo act. I have drive, passion and anger fueling today’s intention. I gave my left leg and lost so much more and I am finally granted this opportunity. I am here now, and I must follow through. I must be courageous with a clear mind. Distraction isn’t an option. So I sat waiting, waiting for my signal, and it came.

“All passengers boarding flight 1241 please have your boarding passes ready” the female voice said through the intercom.

Everyone started moving toward the terminal gate. I started my staggering limp to the gate. I showed the gate attendant my prosthetic leg.

“Yes sir, our special needs board first” she scanned my ticket and I entered the plane.

I sat in first class of this 700,000 pound self-guided missile, its target? A nuclear power plant responsible for powering five million customers. The end goal? Nationwide civil unrest. The power outage will be significant, lasting not only days and weeks, but months. In the region, refrigerated food will spoil, cell phone service will be spotty, and fuel won’t flow from the pumps. Citizens will be left in darkness. The local and federal governments will send in troops to police the people, to try and control the riots and violence. They will allocate resources, infrastructure and man power from other regions of the nation which will cause a nationwide strain on infrastructure; the economy will take a violent blow, stocks will plummet, goods won’t move, people will live in anxiety and fear. Once this happens it will be easier for us to move about the country and occupy other regions around the globe, while I play a small role I am merely a pin prick, but it will be a pin prick straight into their soul.

In today’s age it’s not as easy to high jack a plane like yesterday, but I have trained and I have become fast and efficient. You’re allowed to bring a one quart sized package on the plane with 100 ML sized liquid containers. My containers look like mouth wash and tooth paste. But once mixed it creates an acid that I will use to melt the lock assembly of the flight deck reinforced door. I will then inject a sleeping agent into the cockpit that will knock out the pilots in forty-five seconds, and you’re wondering how I brought a sleeping agent into the plane? Well it’s a vapor; you can’t see it, not even on X-ray. I have a fake leg. I can unthread my artificial foot and knee cuff and be left with a 12 inch titanium tube full of the sleeping agent. Inside the tube is a small battery that looks like a rivet used to hold the tube together. Once the battery is activated it heats up an aluminum spring coil that will collapse and relieve pressure on a valve, this then releases the agent at the end of my tube.

Once the lock melts away there will be a baseball size hole in the door. The tube goes in, my sweater will fill the remaining gap and the agent releases into the cock pit. Shortly after, I pull the door open. The agent will fade away and I will have control of the air plane, maybe the passengers will interfere, but I have taken jujitsu to handle them, even with only one leg I can take them, and after that? Well you get the point. All 700,000 pounds of this self-guided missile crash into a nuclear power plant at 440 miles per hour, the power outage will be instant and the radiation will be significant.

I sat in my first class seat right behind the flight attendants station. The seat next to mine will be empty. I bought it with another alias. The plane filled up rather quickly, with many people, but that didn’t matter, the power plant is the target, not the passengers. I would actually prefer an empty plane. So I sat in that plane, looking out another rain beaded window at the flight line workers below with their bright vests and red flashlight directing aviation traffic. I sat alone, with my fake leg and stomach knot. The knot grew tighter, I pondered, why did this knot exist? What is the root cause of this pain? My intention? My fear of death? Other pains that I have… endured in my life? I sat there empty. I felt empty, but my mind was full, overflowing with concentration and emotional distraction, my heart weighed heavy with pain, yet my heart was empty and cold. Though a constant heartburn persisted. Could it be from the knot? Or am I imagining it?

About thirty minutes into the flight I lost my empty seat, the flight attendant sat a woman next to me. She smiled and settled in. Now this doesn’t ruin my plans. I just wanted to be left alone to think, and prepare and untie.

“Hi” the woman spoke to me.

“Headed home or leaving home?” she asked.

“Going home” I lied

She had soft eyes and a gentle tone to her voice. She slightly resembled my late wife, and she appeared to be about her age when she died. My wife died five years ago. Our village was attacked and bombed by the country whose commercial jet I am currently flying in. They said the enemy combatants were hiding within our village. There was no warning. This is my main motivation for my role today, to avenge my wife’s death and lite the spark that will slowly but surely consume this country’s existence.

“Me too, and I can’t wait. It’s been far too long” she broke my thought.

“Yeah? I hear ya” not really knowing what to say.

“Where is home?” She asked

I heard her, but I couldn’t answer her, instead I closed my eyes, I felt my knot grow tighter but I was distracted, I tried to imagine my home, I tried to form a mental image of home but there was nothing, no memory of home at all. Nothing at all manifested in my mind. I came to the image that my home was empty, just empty blank black space. I came to realize that I didn’t have a home. I was truly homeless, and worse. I was heartless.

“Do you have family back home?” she asked.

She looked at me and noticed my knot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…I mean, you don’t have to answer that” She said

I paused for a bit, I really didn’t want to talk to her but it would probably seem odd if I avoided her. Especially these days, flight attendants are trained to pick up odd behavior. While they won’t act on it unless it becomes criminal or threatening, they may tune their focus more and alert the pilots. I decided to bleed the conversation on to blend in with this chapter of my life that will soon expire.

“No, it’s just me, me and my apartment and my job” I shared, maybe too much

“What do you do?” she asked

“I’m a pilot, I fly small planes, not like these planes” I indicated by waving my finger in the air.

“Oh neat! My late husband was a pilot; he was a combat pilot for the military”

She caught my attention.

“Late husband?” I asked

“Yea he died about five years ago, overseas in combat, his helicopter crashed, not shot down, a simple accident” she said faintly.

Expression poured out of her face, she sat appearing emotionless. I on the other hand felt jolted, the concept that I was going to take down a plane with a widow on board whose husband once fought in my country. The concept was alarming, in a sense that I never thought this odd retribution could happen.

“I’m sorry” I muttered. She must have a knot also, but a different knot, a knot of pain not revenge.

“Thank you, I never wanted him over there anyways; it was a nasty war, two militaries too powerful for each other. It made me sick, and then they knocked on my door, in their full service dress; they didn’t even have to tell me”.

Our countries were at war, but there has been a cease fire in place for the last four years. Things have seemed to go back to normal for a bit.

“Where was he serving over there?” I asked. My knot pressed.

She looked at me, gave me a half smile. She was pretty, a very attractive women, smooth skin, long dark hair. She truly resembled my wife.

“He was in the northern part of the country; it was a mistake, a total screw up on the military’s part. They got some bad intelligence that said a key target commander or something was in a small town, they went there, bombed parts of it. His helicopter struck some power lines and he went down. He died not from the crash, but from the bad intelligence”.

I was mind blown; this really couldn’t be the same helicopter that went down in my village five years ago.

“Do you remember the name of the village?” I asked

“No, they wouldn’t tell me, I guess it’s classified” she said, looking forward again

“He didn’t even want to be there”. She shared.

I suddenly felt sorrow for her, but at the same time my mind was pinging on this revelation. I had one more question that I knew would connect her husband’s death to my wife’s death.

“Did um…” I couldn’t speak. She turned to me, her eyes soft with a mild sadness. My knot clinched.

“Did he die April 24th?” I asked

Her expression turned sharp, blaring confusion with a touch of anger.

“How do you know this?” she asked.

At that point I let it go, I didn’t even think.

“I’m from that village, that small town, my wife was killed by the bombings, I lost my leg, I didn’t witness the helicopter crashing, but I knew, I saw the aftermath, I saw the helicopter” I shared. I felt my knot loosen, for the first time in years after growing more and tighter.

She was amazed, I could tell, her mouth open, looking right at me, she gently leaned back in her chair, her eyes dropped to the tray table before her; I followed her gaze, on the tray table sat a clear, carbonated soft drink. Small bubbles on the inside would break off the side of the clear plastic cup and float to the top with each slight vibration of the plane. Beads of condensation ran down the outside of the cup, water slowing trickling down, falling. Everywhere I looked water returning to Earth to produce more life, ironically.

“It’s been hard for me to get over the events of that day, they weigh heavy on my mind” I said.

“Why are you here?” she asked

“You live in the country that once bombed yours?” she said, in a bead a tear formed in the corner of her eyes and worked its way down.

Why do I live here? I thought to myself, to complete this mission, to lite the spark, but… it suddenly, all of a sudden, didn’t matter to me anymore, the knot had loosened. Her husband killed my wife and died the same day, so here I am, going to kill her and die also? Why? To avenge my wife’s death? Even so, I guess. I wouldn’t even see her in heaven… but now, the whole reason why I am here, no longer felt justified to me. As if all these years I have been crying into a bucket of revenge just to have someone come and kick it over, it felt as though beads of water crashed all around me but I was dry with the exception of the cold sweat I just felt.

“I don’t know” I lied

“I guess to find closure” I said truthfully.

She continued to gaze at me, her expression softened and I wondered what she was thinking?

“Oh” she sighed;

“I can’t even...” she trailed off.

We sat there in silence, she returned her gaze to the soft drink in front of her, the beads of condensation had collected and encircled at the bottom of the cup on the tray table before her. The circle of life.

“A spectacular happenstance this is” she said softly while squinting at her drink.

I studied her face, her expressions, she seemed to be trying to figure something out, connect some sort of dots in her mind. Was her knot tight or lose?

“I feel so bad… so sorry for you and it isn’t even my fault but I feel like I should carry some sort of blame for this” She said returning her gaze towards me.

“It isn’t your fault, you’ve done nothing wrong, it is, like you said, a spectacular happenstance” I spoke and I truly felt that way, I looked down at my fake leg covered by my pants, I gazed back up at the flight deck door.

She grabbed my hand and held it, the instant that she touched me all of my anger, pain, frustration and passion…went away; it just instantly bled out of me like beads of water falling to the floor. I felt relaxed, at peace. The knot was gone, the heart burn subsided.

However, I knew I had to follow thru with my mission. I made it this far, I need to complete my role in this play. But… my motivation, my drive, it all drained out of me, I felt tired, weak. The fight was gone, and I instantly felt ok with that. She leaned towards me, slowly, hesitated and then slowly she laid her head on my shoulder while still holding my hand in her lap, I relaxed, and accepted the affection. My mind wandered for some time, various parts of my life scrolled thru my mind of abstract memories of my child hood; of me playing in the streets of my little village, walking to school with my mother, waiting at the front door for my father to come home. My wedding, and finally the last time I saw my wife alive. She was lying on her back on the floor; the second floor of our house caved in and crushed her from the stomach down. She was dying. With my leg gushing blood all over I was able to crawl over to her.

“Annabel” I gently called to her.

She slowly shook her head, her breaths were shallow, and slow, she had a relaxed, glazed look to her eyes.

“Annabel” I whispered.

She slowly blinked and looked into my eyes.

“Come home with me” she said, at nearly a whisper and a moment later, she was gone.

I sat staring blankly at the tray table in front of me, I couldn’t do it, and I no longer wanted to, I wanted to go home. I felt that I was freed from this prison that I have been trapped in for the past five years. The knot in my stomach loosened and vanished. She lifted her head off my shoulder and looked at me, as if somehow she sensed my epiphany. I looked at her, into her gentle eyes and for a moment I saw Annabel, looking back at me, could it be? There’s no way. I continued to gaze into her eyes, and I felt… Something, a familiar feeling, I couldn’t grasp it, but I felt it, and then I knew what it was. Love, it was love, I loved her, maybe even in love with her, and I haven’t a clue who she is. I’ve never met her before.

Looking into her eyes I asked her

“What’s your name?”

She smiled

“Abigail, my name is Abigail, and yours?” she asked.

“Aaron” I replied.

With her lips closed she produced a gentle yet earnest smile.

“I like that name, it sounds kind” She said.

Was it silly that I all of a sudden felt something for her? Abigail, whose name is so close to my late wife Annabel? But this can’t just be your normal coincidence, this is not just some happenstance, this must be a divine message. There is just no possible way when considering the facts that this isn’t divine intervention. She is the wife of the man whom killed my wife, and I am going to kill her? Either the stars aligned for perfect revenge. Or I am seeking the wrong emotion. Has anger or bitterness ever solved anything before?

I have been holding this bitter anger for many years and I’ve gained nothing from it, no peace no solace nothing. Instead I carry a heavy ice covered heart that constantly leaves me in discomfort until now. I could feel Abigail studying me, her face carried a soft, gentle, curiosity as if she could see my pain.

“Let it go” She said to me.

I glanced at her. It was almost as if she were reading my mind, as if we had tied our knots together.

“You can’t let the pain control you, whatever ill emotions you are harboring just let them go, life is too short” She said.

I thought about that, she was right, life was too short. But I came all this way, it took years of planning and learning and training to make this happen, but one terrorist act doesn’t right the wrong of another. In the end no one wins and violence always ensues. If I take this plane down I will be remembered as a murderer, if I don’t do anything at all will I save lives? If there is a heaven I wonder if Annabel watches over me, and how she feels about my actions.

“Abigail” I spoke weakly.

“Yes?” She responded

“I need you” it just rolled off my tongue, and I truly did need her. I needed everything about her. I need her to never allow my knot to tie again.

“Aaron” she said softly.

“Yes?’ I answered.

“When we land” she said while looking into my eyes.

“Come home with me”.

#war love heart death fiction

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reeleev · 6 years

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Happy Anniverthary - KiHo

Summary: Kihyun’s always wanted a dog, Hoseok knows that. However, Kihyun’s always said they just don’t have the resources to take care of another living thing. So, when Hoseok gets an unexpected raise at work, there’s only one thing he can think of to spend it on.

Word Ct: 3047

AO3 Link

Done to fulfill a request on the MX Fic Req Forum~!

Kihyun practically jumps in between the different groups of puppies yapping in the noisy pet store. He coos at all the different canines looking to them with bright, hopeful gazes, keeping his hands out of the bins with obvious effort. Hoseok smiles adoringly at his fiancé, following at his heel. Frankly, Hoseok couldn’t care less about dogs, as he’s always been more of a cat person, but Kihyun absolutely loves dogs. So, here they are, window-shopping for that perfect pup yet again.

It’s one of their favorite things to do on their rare days off, to go look at puppies. Kihyun’s always wanted a dog. Or, at least, he’s wanted one for as long as Hoseok has known him. Sadly, though, they’ve never had the funds or time to get one. Kihyun always says that he’d much rather just wait till they’re old and retired to have one, as then he’d definitely have the time to care for it. Besides, he always likes to add teasingly, Hoseok is enough of a handful as is, so there really isn’t room for a puppy.

After going through the entire store three times over, Kihyun heaves a long sigh and allows himself to be led from the cheerful yips. His bright smile falters, and Hoseok can’t help but feel guilty. Even if it isn’t his fault that they can’t get a dog, he feels somewhat responsible. After all, isn’t it his job to make Kihyun happy? If so, he feels he’s doing a pretty bad job…

“What do you want for dinner tonight, hyung?” Kihyun asks, his tone sweet and renewed as he snuggles close to Hoseok’s side. Despite the nearness of springtime, there’s still a chill in the air that nips at the tips of their noses and ears. Hoseok hums, slipping an arm around Kihyun’s waist to keep him near.

“I’d love some ramyeon,” Hoseok answers honestly, unable to keep from chuckling at Kihyun’s disapproving sigh.

“You’ve already eaten that three times this week,” Kihyun argues, shaking his head. “You need real food, hyung.” He pauses then, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “How about chicken? I can grill it with some teriyaki sauce, and we can have rice, soup, carrots, and asparagus with it.” Hoseok hums, leaning to kiss the top of Kihyun’s ashy brown hair.

“Sounds delicious~” he relents easily, eager to eat anything Kihyun cooks. Kihyun hums as well, glancing around at their surroundings. He notes how far they are from their apartment and decides it isn’t too far of a walk with groceries, and he steers them in the direction of the nearest store. There, Hoseok does his best to sneak in a value pack of ramyeons and instant udons, but Kihyun catches him every time and tells him to put it back.

Despite his disappointment for his failed attempts, he wonders just what he’s done in his life to be so lucky with Kihyun. Any of his exes would’ve left him behind in the store already for being so childish, but not Kihyun. As he lugs the groceries home all on his own—even though Kihyun protests that he can help carry some—he can’t help but smile.

The next day at work, Hoseok finds something else to smile about.

He’s sitting at his computer, staring at the string of customer complaints on his screen and pondering just what he could get the love of his life for their anniversary. It’s been three years since they’ve begun going out, so he needs it to be special. After all, this is the longest relationship he’s had since… well, ever. Only, he has no idea how he’s gonna afford getting Kihyun anything more than simple flowers and a card with how empty his bank account is…

“Hoseok-ssi!” a voice comes from a corner of the room. Hoseok immediately bolts up, recognizing the voice to be of his superior, Hyunwoo. He looks around to find the tan, muscular man sticking his head out of his private office, raising a brow for Hoseok to follow him. Hoseok does so immediately, scrambling to leave his cubicle and answer his boss.

“Yes, sajangnim?” Hoseok asks as he enters the office, straightening his tie nervously. Hyunwoo sits at his stained mahogany desk, going back to clacking away at his computer.

“Relax, Hoseok-ssi,” he comments, chuckling warmly. “I’m not calling you in here to chastise you. In fact, quite the opposite.” He gestures for Hoseok to take a seat, and the man does so, perching himself on the edge of the leather chair. “I’m giving you a promotion. You’ve a great tract record with the company, Hoseok-ssi, and you’ve excelled at literally every department we’ve assigned you to. I’ve been moved up to be the regional head for our branch, so I’d like you to take my place here, as customer service department head.”

Hoseok’s jaw drops to the floor, utterly shocked at the words leaving his superior’s lips. An amused grin pulls at Hyunwoo’s lips, but he doesn’t say anything about Hoseok’s expression.

“It’ll mean better work hours,” he continues, “and of course a pay raise. You’ll be able to pick your vacation times, for the most part.” He opens the drawer to his right, pulling out a packet and handing it over. “Here’s the details of all that you’d be doing. I understand it’s a lot to take in, but please make your decision as soon as possible. I’d like to train you myself, and—”

“I don’t need time,” Hoseok interrupts without meaning to, shaking his head. “I’ll take the job!” He stands, setting down the thick file to grasp Hyunwoo’s hand in a firm shake as he bows. “Thank you so much, sajangnim! I can’t tell you how much this means to me! Really, I won’t let you down, I swear! I’ll—”

“Okay, okay,” Hyunwoo chuckles, patting Hoseok’s hand once before pulling away. “If you’re sure, go on down to HR and show them the third page in that file. They’ll begin the process of changing your credentials and give you your bonus.” Hoseok nods adamantly, bowing so low his back becomes parallel with the floor before he hurries from the room.

“Kihyunnie!” Hoseok calls as soon as he gets home. He’s a bit earlier than he usually is, as he’s just in the process now of finishing up his work. He hurriedly takes off his shoes, not bothering to put them into the shoe rack as he slides on socked-feet into the kitchen, where Kihyun is blinking surprisedly at him beside the stove, a pair of metal chopsticks in his hand. Hoseok plucks up the smaller man and swings him around, elated.

“Hyung??” Kihyun questions, chuckling despite his own confusion. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I got a promotion!” Hoseok cries, setting the man down to only press a sweltering kiss against his mouth. “I’ve been moved to head of the department! Can you believe it??”

“Aigooooo,” Kihyun says, beaming proudly from ear to ear, “it’s about time they recognized how much work you put into that damn company.” He leans up on his tiptoes, kissing the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. “Congratulations, aga~! You deserve it.” Hoseok hums, returning the kiss and pulling Kihyun into a crushing embrace. He hears Kihyun push an amused breath through his lips, and Hoseok can’t help but tighten his grip around the younger. His heart swells with gratitude, as he’s certain he wouldn’t have been able to earn this reward with Kihyun’s support.

He just knows he has to get the perfect gift for Kihyun, and now he has the means to do just that.

Kihyun purses his lips as casts a glance over to the clock on the wall just above the small television, tapping his knee impatiently. Hoseok should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago, for crying out loud. It’s their anniversary, and they had planned a special dinner to celebrate the milestone. Kihyun had cooked their favorite foods in preparation, and he swears if all that food gets cold before they can eat, Hoseok will never hear the end of it. They’ll be on their damn deathbeds, and Kihyun will still be nagging him for being late to their three-year-anniversary-dinner.

“… Kihyunnie?” Hoseok’s voice comes hesitantly from the front door, and Kihyun bolts up to bitch at hi—I mean, greet his love after a long day.

All words die down in his throat, though, at seeing what Hoseok is holding in his arms. His fiancé is smiling sheepishly, the right corner of his mouth pulling back to reveal his canine. A fluffy, miniature heap of fur sits atop his forearm, a little pink tongue hanging out its mouth and its puffball of a tail wagging excitedly. Kihyun’s mouth drops open, forming a small ‘oh’.

“H-Happy anniverthary, Kihyunnie~” Hoseok chuckles, a full smiling pulling at his lips now at Kihyun’s expression. A small coo escapes the younger, and Hoseok only laughs once more as he hands over the shih tzu. “I… I know you always say how much you want a dog, and I know last time we were at the store you kept looking at the Pomeranians there… But, when I went to the shelter, she was about to be euthanized, and—”

Kihyun reaches forward, taking the dog into his own arms. The small thing yips happily and licks at his face, causing him to smile so widely his dimples show. Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief, having been genuinely worried Kihyun wouldn’t be happy with this breed.

“When I got my promotion,” Hoseok says, slipping out of his shoes and moving into the apartment to set down his bag of dog paraphernalia, “I knew I had to get you what you’ve always wanted. So, I used it to get food, treats, a bed, and pay the pet fee…” Kihyun chuckles airily, stepping close to kiss the corner of Hoseok’s mouth.

“Thank you, jagiya,” Kihyun says, his voice more air than sound. He hugs the pup close, a short giggle escaping him. “Really, I… I never thought you’d do this.” Hoseok beams, wrapping an arm around Kihyun’s waist to steer them towards the kitchen.

Kihyun doesn’t let go of that pup for at least a couple hours, saying he’s more content to watch Hoseok eat and holding his new, precious little girl than to eat himself. Of course, eventually he puts the dog down to let her explore her new home to partake of his own delicious food.

After a romantic night, the two tuck into bed with the newest addition to their home snuggled between them. Hoseok cradles Kihyun close to his chest, petting his hair as Kihyun continuously scratches behind Mina’s ears. They’d decided on such a name as it means ‘Love’, which both men thought absolutely perfect for her.

The next morning, Kihyun awakens with a smile on his face. His love is lying beside him, sleeping with his mouth slightly agape and his expression otherwise calm. His sweet, precious, perfect little gift of a shih tzu is barking softly, not loud enough to awaken Hoseok by any means, and playing around in the blankets. Kihyun chuckles affectionately at the adorable sight and reaches down to pluck her up, kissing the top of her head in greeting. She licks at his cheek in reply, her nub of a tail wagging excitedly.

Kihyun kisses her again before setting her down, reaching towards the bedside table to grab his engagement ring. However, he draws back his hand completely empty. Kihyun glances over, his brow furrowing in confusion as he’s sure he’d put it there last night… He stands and goes to the bathroom, wondering if maybe he’d taken it off in there as he does every once in a blue moon.

But, it isn’t there either. Panic begins to rise in his throat as he scurries from the bathroom and to the kitchen, hoping he’d taken it off before doing the dishes last night and had just forgotten to put it back on. Mina follows at his heel, yapping delightedly at the sudden movement.

Kihyun tears apart the kitchen and living room trying to find the damn ring, but he comes up empty. He hurries back to the bedroom, thinking perhaps he’d overlooked it somehow. When he enters, Mina jumps right up on the bed and barks in Hoseok’s face, licking at his cheek. Hoseok awakens with a start, blearily looking around at the noise. Upon sighting Mina, he chuckles airily and pats her head, telling her good morning. He looks over to Kihyun, and his smile immediately falls.

“Kihyunnie?” he asks, moving to get up at seeing his fiancé so obviously distressed. His face is drawn tight in a look of worry, his hair a bit messy and his eyes darting frantically this way and that. Kihyun’s gaze flicks over to him, and guilt immediately fills it.

“Hyung…” Kihyun begins, chewing on his bottom lip. “I can’t find it. My ring. I… I put it on the bedside table last night, I know I did, but it’s not—” He stops, watching as Mina jumps easily onto the table from the bed and licks at the wood, whining at the lack of food there. Kihyun purses his lips, stepping closer to Mina with an apprehensive look.

“I-It’s okay, Kihyunnie,” Hoseok says confusedly, watching as his fiancé moves. “We can spend today looking for it. I’m sure with both of us looking we’ll—”

“We’re taking Mina to the vet,” Kihyun interrupts, turning and moving towards the dresser. “Get dressed, we can get breakfast on the way back.” Hoseok frowns, confused, as his head tilts to the side.

“You don’t want to look for your ring?” he asks, doing his best not to sound hurt but not doing a very good job.

“I think I found it,” is all Kihyun says in reply. He then pulls out some of Hoseok’s clothes and tosses them to him, going back into the dresser to find an outfit for himself. Hoseok only grows more confused at this, but he says nothing. He knows better than to argue with Kihyun when he gets that look in his eye. It’s the look he has when they’re at the store and he sees an old housewife going for the last value pack of meat, the look that says ‘One way or another, this will end my way’.

At the vet, Hoseok understands wholeheartedly just what Kihyun must’ve been thinking. After getting them to give Mina an x-ray, they find that the pup had swallowed Kihyun’s ring while they were asleep. They’re told all they can do is wait, and an hour later they’re driving back home, Hoseok at the wheel with Kihyun clutching Mina in the passenger seat. Hoseok grips the steering wheel nervously, his throat dry.

“I… I’m thorry, Kihyunnie,” Hoseok says finally, voicing his incredible guilt at the whole situation. He sees Kihyun glance at him from his peripheral, and he feels compelled to continue. “I guess I should’ve run the dog idea by you. I just wanted it to be a surprise, you know? But, I guess that’s backfired now. We can go home and get all her stuff, then take her to a shelter…”

“What?” Kihyun asks, utterly perplexed. “Hyung, no. I don’t want to give Mina back.” He chuckles, clicking his tongue. “I mean, I’m not exactly looking forward to having to bag up all her poop to take back to the vet in three days, but this doesn’t make me hate her or anything… Or you, for that matter. You getting me her was probably the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Hoseok visibly heaves a sigh of relief, chuckling nervously.

“We’re a growing family, hyung, so of course we’d have some growing pains,” Kihyun continues, shifting his hold on Mina to reach over and grasp Hoseok’s knee. He squeezes it gently, and Hoseok beams as his heart swells at the word ‘family’. “Don’t worry, in a few days this’ll all be over and we won’t think anything more about it.”

Hoseok hums, nodding and focusing his attention back on the road. Kihyun retracts his hand to turn the volume dial on the radio, turning up the pop song and beginning to sing along. Mina joins him, howling with her high little voice along with the song. Hoseok just feels his own smile grow, his love for his family growing immensely.

Three days later, the couple finds themselves back at the vet with a large brown bag containing some very… questionable contents. Two vet assistants take the bag, tell the men to wait, and disappear into the back. They return about two hours later, smiling widely as they hand over a very familiar silver band. After having to ensure Kihyun just how many times they’ve sanitized the band, the man gingerly puts it on his finger, where it belongs. He looks over to Hoseok with a smile so bright the older swears he’s staring at the sun itself.

“I’m gonna soak it in ethanol overnight,” Kihyun mutters as he pushes open their door with his shoulder, staring down at his ring with a look of dismay. “I don’t know if I really trust them…” Hoseok chuckles affectionately, shaking his head at the typical statement. His love can be so particular, but he doesn’t mind. It’s just one of his many quirks to love.

He’s just about to say so, too, but the words die in his throat at the sight awaiting them just inside their apartment.

Mina, sitting on the couch, her tiny tail wagging so fast Hoseok is surprised it doesn’t lift her up in the air, her tongue lulled out in excited pants as she stares at them from the couch, fluff from the couch cushions falling around her like a light snow. She seems to have gotten bored awaiting their return, and had retaliated by tearing into the couch, pillows, blankets, curtains… literally any fabric she could reach.

Kihyun purses his lips, his small body beginning to vibrate with anger as he’s just cleaned the apartment… Hoseok steps forward, hugging the younger from behind and kissing his temple to try and calm him. After all, it’s just another growing pain for their small but beautiful family~

#kiho #monsta x #monsta x fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #one shot #complete #new fic #shin hoseok #wonho #yoo kihyun #requested #domestic au #fluff #cute #fluffy and cute #domestic #non idol au #raising a puppy #anniversary

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ghostboy-gamedev · 4 years

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Learn Log #3 - GUI

This week I studied various elements of Graphical User Interfaces (GUI) including text, logos, buttons and cursors. For practice, I made a mock-up of a fantasy RPG menu which turned out alright. Apologies for the late post. I was a bit busy this past week. Hopefully this doesn’t cause a delay in next week’s post but we’ll have to wait and see!

Text and Font

To practice my font making skills, this week, I tried to make readable fonts in the smallest sizing possible. My reasoning behind this is letters might be read in large passages of text, so a smaller size will likely be required – especially for small menu spaces such as inventories.

Above was my first attempt which used 3x4 pixel letters. While many of the characters were recognisable, a good number were not. The ‘M’ and ‘W’ were utterly unreadable, and some of the characters were difficult to read, like ‘S’ and ‘X’. I decided to move up to a 4x5 size.

With this slightly larger size, I attempted to make both uppercase and lower case letters, most of which worked pretty well. While most characters such as the ‘S’, ‘E’, ‘3’, ‘Z’ and so forth benefited from the extra pixel in the Y-axis – characters were still needed an extra pixel along the X-axis. Characters such as ‘M’ and ‘W’ were still basically unreadable, and characters such as ‘T’ and ‘I’ were difficult to align along the even number of pixels. To fix this, I moved up to 5x5.

Finally! I have successful ‘M’s and ‘W’s! From this test, I really think that there are a few principals for creating nice fonts. 1) If you know or unsure about if the letters ‘M’ and ‘W’ are involved then make the canvas size for each letter at least 5 pixels wide. The same can go for characters like ‘S’ with regards to height. 2) Make the canvas size an odd number along the X-axis to better align specific letters.

With this last font set, I was also able to size the canvas for different types of characters differently. Capital letters occupied the full 5x5 canvas, lowercase letters occupied a 3x4 canvas (except for the ‘M’ and ‘W’ which had to be 5x4), and numbers and symbols filled a 3x5 canvas. I did this so readers could better distinguish between uppercase and lowercase letters, and similar characters like ‘O’ and ‘0’. I’ll have to see what it’s like an actual game later, but I think it’ll be a pretty useful trick.

I do think I will be able to make larger fonts than this and size them down in the Unity engine. Even if this is the case, I think this worked pretty well as practice within tricky boundaries.

Logos

I think logos and titles are pretty crucial to a game. They plaster the cover and main menu of the screen, and I’m sure we can all think of a few memorable logos we’ve seen in games. So, now that I’d practised making text I wanted to make a banner logo for my Itch.io page. The first thing I did was a little sketching on paper before converting it to a small pixel art concept, as shown below.

The recommended banner size for Itchi.io is about 900px wide. I was not going to start here, so I decided to do my rough draft at 45x26 and detail it as I scale up. I made this draft by implementing the concepts I really wanted first and building around that. I knew I wanted to include the ‘S’ wrapped around the ‘T’, so I started there and worked my way through the logo. I also wanted to include a little ghost, so I left a space for it in the bottom left corner. Next, I wanted to add some detail and hollow out the letters, so they were white with a black outline. This is useful as it means the letters are both white and black, allowing the logo to be read on dark and light backgrounds.

To add the detail, I scaled up the previous logo by 400%. This allowed me to round out the edges and create a nice ‘blocky-but-smooth’ look. I also adjusted the ‘G’, ‘T’ and ‘S’. The original ‘S’ and ‘T’ combo made the ‘S’ seem a little bit strange, but this new version was a lot better. With the hollowed out ‘G’ I made it seem like it was beneath the ‘H’ which I thought was a nice effect. I left one of the ends of the ‘Y’ very blocky to make it seem like it had been interrupted by the T. At this point the logo was 180x104, so I scaled it up by 500% to reach 900x520 before adding more detail.

If someone were to ask me, ‘Hey, should I make a 900x520 pixel art logo dealing round edges and circles?’ I would slap them. In fact, I’ve slapped myself because I did precisely this, and it took ages. At smaller sizes, circles can easily be adjusted, viewed, or manipulated to trick the viewer into thinking they are looking at a round edge. When you need to make 4 circles, the largest being 220x220 this becomes insanely difficult. Looking back on this issue I definitely should have used anti-aliasing - I completely forgot about it if I’m honest. The ‘O’s didn’t even come out looking that great. They look quite boxy – definitely should have used anti-aliasing. I have regrets.

Luckily the other letters turned out much better. I did adjust the ‘Y’ also as previously the logo read ‘Ghosty Boy’ rather than ‘Ghost Boy’. This did make the canvas 840x520, but I don’t think it’ll be a noticeable change. I’m pretty happy with it, especially after all the time it took. I may revisit the logo at another time (especially to fix up those ‘O’s).

Above is the final logo, I added the pattern used in my profile picture (slightly desaturated to make it easy on the eyes) to the insides of the letters and called it a day (or 3 days. I hate the letter ‘O’).

Buttons

So, we’ve got our game’s font and title, what we need now are some buttons for interacting with the menus. To practice making button sprites, I decided to make link buttons for social media sites. I started by making the designs of the buttons, as shown below.

I started with small, white 9x9 designs of each social media sites’ logo on a background of their associated colour. I wanted the buttons to be small (to be put on the sidebar of a website) and completely circular. The Itch.io logo could not fit onto the small size, so I made a rough-looking videogame controller instead.

I then expanded these designs into a larger 13x13 circle which I would later turn into the button. Not much happened in this step but this.

And the buttons were done! I shifted the logos of each button upwards before adding a shadow and highlight line on the bottom. Buttons require some sense of depth or separation from the background to show that they can be interacted with. This is really all that’s needed, but more detail can be added to make the button look more appealing.

I added a shadow around the back of the buttons to emphasise the edges of the buttons, separating them from background. I then added some more detail to the highlight to make the button seem shiny and draw attention to it. By alternating between highlights and normal tones, the button appears metallic. Finally, I changed the white logos to a light yellow so the white didn’t seem too bright.

Overall, I’m pretty happy with how the buttons look. The colours on the Itch.io button are a bit desaturated which conflicts with the metallic look. This is due to the colours of the actual logo being quite desaturated. If I were to return to it, I would change it to be pink or orange to capture a similar colour but make the button as bright and eye-catching as the others.

Cursors

There’s not much to talk about in regards to cursors. The default cursors of PCs and Macs are pretty good, however, adding a custom cursor image to a game makes it look really cool I think – even if it’s just a simple adjustment. I tried my hand at making some cursors. The circular points make fitting cursors for shoot games as they’re reminiscent of a gun scope. The hand cursor is a little tricky to do in a small space and might not be worth it as cursors need to be small. Like I said regarding text - if Unity has an option to scale down cursors that will make things much easier. These are some simple ones, but I’m sure there could be more eccentric designs even within these cursor shapes.

Assessment

So, for this week’s learning assessment, I wanted to make a mock-up fantasy RPG menu based on the items I made last week. This was definitely not a lazy excuse to use the same colour palette and 100% a sincere artistic decision.

The first thing I started with was the buttons. It is crucial a menu’s buttons are clear and easy to read so they should dictate the size and presentation of the rest of the screen. I really liked the scroll item from last week, so I decided to make the buttons scrolls. This made the addition of depth more complicated, but I think I did an alright job by adding a shadow bottom right of the scroll.

For the text on the buttons, I wanted to delve into the fantasy aspect and use rune-like letters. I had to tread a fine line between clarity and the desired aesthetic of the letters which took a lot of trial and error, but I think I got there in the end.

I then scaled up the buttons to add some further detail to the scroll and the runes. I thought the plain white background looked pretty bland so I decided to make a background.

I made a mountain range as a background for the menu and changed the text of the ‘PLAY’ button to an outlined red. I kept the background quite simple as this week’s topic was interfaces, and I was concerned that a detailed background might distract from the interface elements. I turned the ‘PLAY’ red because I wanted to give the impression that the option was being selected. I had ample empty space to the left of the screen, so I decided to create a logo for the game to fill that space.

[photo]

After some more trial and error with different rune letters, I created this logo giving this fake game the title ‘Mt Doom’, inspired by the mountain range background. The rigid rune style really gave the title a more menacing feeling which was good. The ‘O’s used looked a bit weird as I had trouble turning them into a rigid rune style. I increased the size of the logo to add more detail and popped it into the menu screen.

The extra detail made the runes look a bit nicer. The ‘O’s were still off but did fit the rest of the font a little better after adjustment. My biggest concern was how out of place the whole logo looked. This was quite clearly because of the pure white colour used for the letters. I could change this to the white within the colour palette; however, this colour was used in the background, so I decided to match the selected button and use the colour red for the logo.

The red made the logo really pop while fitting in with the rest of the piece. Additionally, some light shading on each of the letters made letters stand out even more. I also moved the black outline of the text slightly to the right to make it feel more like a shadow rather than just an outline. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like the logo had a grand enough presence for its purpose and menace to shine through. To fix this up, I digitally resized the logo by approximately 133.33%. Now, digital resizing really works well for stuff like 200%, 500%, 1000% and so on because it just adds pixels. However, a resize of 150% means you are resizing the image by 1 and a half-pixel which is not possible. This creates jagged, messy lines – but I decided to give it a shot because why not?

To my surprise, the sizing was perfect, and the messy lines actually worked somewhat with the aesthetic. The shading did get messed up a bit, and if I were to do this again I would go back and adjust the shading, but overall I actually think it improved the piece. Finally, I decided to add a cursor, a watermark and social media buttons into the piece, as shown below.

This watermark and the social media buttons do look a bit out of place in the piece, but I think that works in their favour. It draws attention to them and makes it clear that these are not part of the game or menu. This is particularly useful as those social media sites will open an external tab so showing they’re not part an internal part of the game is important.

Looking back on this piece, I do wish the background had more detail. Initially, I didn’t add it so the interface was clear and this may have worked. Still, the fact the background is very simple makes it aesthetically different and distracting. Also, while the scrolls were a nice concept, they could be designed to have more depth and a better select state. Overall, what I took from this practice is that this design process of ‘Buttons to Background to Logo’ is quite useful, but I do need to make adjustments as I go through each stage in the process.

Conclusion

That concludes week 3 of learning pixel art. In week 4, I will be diving into environments starting with grass, trees, bushes and some other features of nature. I’m really excited to build pixel art environments, and I think I’ll enjoy it more than this week as I got a bit sick of making letters over and over again.

My learning and this blog post wouldn’t have been made possible without these fantastic resources. Go check them out if you wanna learn some stuff about pixel art!

Creating A Pixel Art Font by TutsByKai

How to Make a Pixel Logo by TutsByKai

Pixel Art 101: Buttons by Pixel Pete

How to Animate a Button by TutsByKai

How to Make Pixel Art Cursors by TutsByKai

#pixel art #pixel #pixel aesthetic #video games #gamedev #game dev #learning #learn

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batmaniskpopaf · 7 years

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GIRLS LIKE U:

HERE’S THAT MINHYUK SMUT NO ONE ASK FOR…

OKAY BUT I HAVE LIKE A FINAL, A 6 PAGE PAPER AND SHIT TON OF HW AND YOU KNOW WHAT MY HOE ASS DID ? WROTE THIS BULLSHIT AFTER BEING EMO FOR BLACK BEAR AND CARRIE UNDERWOOD FOR 3 HOURS …

ENJOY THIS RIDICULOUSLY LONG STORY :3

A/N:ALSO SHOUT OUT TO MY HOME GIRL @kinkybangtan#YOUTHEREALMVP

TYPE: HELLA SMUT BC LEE MINHYUK DOES THINGS TO ME

WORD COUNT: 3.5 K (SORRY NOT SORRY)

CHARACTERS: LEE MINHYUK X Y/N (FT.KIHYUN,WONHO AND CHANGKYUN BC I’M UNLOYAL AF)

SUMMARY: “SHE HAD THE LOOKS, HE HAD THE MANSION AND YOU CAN FIGURE OUT THE REST” I SUCK AT SUMMARIES ALSO I JUST LIKE THAT LINE

“Are you sure they’re gay?” I ask aloud “No one that hot is straight” Cahngkyun replies taking my tray and wiping down the stray sparkling liquid off its brown surface…. “True” I reply tapping my foot to the thumping music while I wait for my tray … “This is the second bottle they’ve gone through tonight” I muse looking at my waiter wallet once more to verify my orders for the night… “Yah! If they’re paying, let them clean out the bar” … I eye Kihyun my bottom lip jutting out into my signature pout… “Yah! Maybe you’ll finally pay me” I say in mock offense… Kihyun eyes me wearily and I break my composure giggling loudly enough for the people at the other end of the island bar turn to look at me…. he smirks and tosses a bright neon straw at me… the neon yellow plastic tumbles to the floor…. “Children!”Changkyun chastises… he hands me the tray and I pile it high with alcohol and finger foods before disappearing once more into the crowds of party goers and creeps…

“Here you go sir” I announce setting the expensive bottle of alcohol in the ice bucket and discarding the now empty one in my hand…. “Please call me Minhyuk” the auburn beauty corrects me… “alright, Can I get you anything else minhyuk?” I reply my nonsense attitude drawing a smirk from his sculptured lips… “What’s your name sweetheart?” …”Y/N’” I reply… “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl” …the equally attractive blonde man beside him stifles a laugh over his phone… I arch a brow at Minhyuk … and he shoots a pointed look at his compatriot … “Please excuse him, he has no manners” Minhyuk mutters through gritted teeth… “Maybe one more bottle and the check” Minhyuk chirps angling his lean frame towards me once more… his long legs are tucked one under the other and his fingers are adorned with countless silver and gold rings… “Okay one more bottle and the check coming right up” I announce before turning on my heel and sauntering away… I can feel his eyes make their way down my body… a part of me wishes it was his fingers and lips… However, I shake the thought out of my head and head back to the bar…

“Alright, Kihyun another bottle and the check” I say leaning against the large marble bar… “Is it for your boyfriend?” he gushes… “Yah! he’s not my boyfriend” … “Sure he’s not, he just happens to only come in on your scheduled shifts and leave a massive tip specifically for you” Kihyun mutters … I cock my head to the side… “Well you sure don’t seem to mind when I buy you food with that massive tip” I say… Kihyun rolls his eyes at me and I can’t help but blush at his insinuation…as much as I would like to believe everything he just said is true I know I shouldn’t…. Minhyuk probably just feels sorry for me, he probably had to struggle the same way I do when he was my age… Which brings the question, how old is he? He doesn’t look much older than Kihyun or Jooheon the DJ… “Are you two fighting again?” Changkyun interrupts “Hm?” I’m so immersed in my own mind that I hadn’t realize Kihyun was still talking… “No, you know how it is, friendly sibling banter” I say pushing myself off the counter and smoothing my apron over my pencil skirt… “Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Fabio over there hasn’t stopped looking at you” Changkyun comments… “He’s probably done with his bottle and waiting on his next order” I comment pulling out my waiter wallet to prove my theory…. when I look up I’m greeted with a warm pair of caramel brown eyes…

“Y/N?” an even warmer tone beckons me and my breath catches in my throat at his inclining proximity… “S-S-sorry about your wait Minhyuk but I have your order right here” I say taking a step back until I’m pressed against the marble island… “That’s okay dear, I was actually hoping I could have a word with you…. in private” Minhyuk explains…his lean silhouette towering over me… I stare directly into his eyes… every muscle in my body aching to reach out my hand and touch him… “Umm sure” I finally get out… he holds his hand out to me and I take it all too eagerly… “Kihyun, I’m taking a Ten!” I announce… “K” I hear him call back to me too busy mixing drinks for customers to notice the model holding my hand… Minhyk leads me towards the back of the building down the narrow hallway …his hand still intertwined with my own… on our journey we pass by couples kissing and downright baby making… I shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot… “blame it on the alcohol?” Minhyuk leans in to whisper in my ear… my cheeks pink at his proximity and the hairs at the back of my neck stand to attention… Minhyuk smirks at my reaction no doubt enjoying the effect his proximity has on me…we walk a few steps forward until we come to the very back of the building… “Here is good” he announces opening an office door… I shuffle in behind him…

Minhyuk finally lets go of my hand severing our precious contact … my limbs feel suddenly cold without his warmth radiating through my body… “Please have a seat” he makes himself at home walking over to the other side of the desk and sitting crossed legged and beautiful across from me… “Okay, what can I do for you?” I ask perching myself at the edge of the chair… “What nationality are you Y/N?” Minhyuk asks nonchalantly…”You have the prettiest skin tone… he explains… I’m caught off guard but quickly recover answering every one of the many questions that follow suite …. “Who was that boy you were laughing with at the bar?” he asks twiddling a large gold ring between his index and thumb… “Kihyun? He’s my step brother” I say arching a brow… “Where’s your friend?” I ask… If he could ask questions, then so could I… “Wonho? Probably out there disappointing Jesus” he explains matter of factly… “Is that so?” I say…my next question hangs heavy on my tongue, mirroring the awkward silence that hangs thick in the air ….“Do you think I’m gay?” Minhyuk whsipers … “well as my coworker said “No one that hot is straight”” I retort… “So you think I’m hot?” Minhyuk asks the shit eating grin that adorns his chiseled face almost makes my embarrassment bearable…. “Well I’m not blind” I reply my voice sounding far too harsh for my own ears…

Minhyuk’s eyes scan my face as if he’s committing every inch of it to memory… The emotions going to war in his eyes… I chew on my lower lip as I take in his heavenly appearance…. everything from his high cheek bones and captivating eyes …. we seize one another up… my own wayward thoughts playing out in my mind… the heat rising in my cheeks when my eyes fixate on his full lips…. I bite my own and refrain the urge to crawl over the large oak desk and feel their petal softness mold against my slightly chapped ones…as if on que he rises from his seat and saunters towards me… his eyes dark with curiosity and what I hope is lust… my heart hammers in my chest almost overpowering the sound of the chair scrapping across the tile floor…. The seconds it takes for him to walk over to me feel like hours… his arms are on either side of my head and his face is only centimeters from my own… so close that his breath is fanning across my cheeks “I’m not gay, but I would rather prove it to you”…his words hold so much carnal promise and temptation that I throw all caution to the wind and close the short distance between our bodies… the kiss starts off heated and needy… Minhyuk reacts instantly cupping my cheek with his palm and placing the other on the back of my head…. His lips feel petal soft and I can feel myself getting light headed from the alcohol on his breath… my tongue swipes across his lips eager to taste more of him and he complies pulling me flush against his lean frame…. the kiss seems to go on forever and end to quickly all at once…when he finally pulls away we’re both gasping for air…

I run my hands through my hair as I try to regain my breath… “Holy shit” Minhyuk gasps… “Thanks” I reply sarcastically rising to my feet … “Wh-where are you going?” he wheezes… “Unlike some of us I work for a living” I say placing my hand on my hip and attempting to walk passed him within the small confines of the office… “Can I see you after work tonight?” he asks anxiously … “No, I have plans” I reply, attempting to sound unfazed… “With who?” he demands … “With whoever the hell I want! Do you think you own me just because you kissed me?” I ask ,the indignation in my voice placating him … “Well no, but I would like to take you out and get to know you” … “I don’t know if you know this but I’m not your property” I say raising my voice a few octaves… “Y/N, that’s not what this Is about” he explains… “I’m sure it’s not, now if you’ll excuse me, my ten minutes is up” I say walking past him… before I can make it to the door he grabs my wrist in his palm and I turn to face him … “Please, can I see you again?” … “Minhyuk I have to get back to work” … “Please? Just one date? You’re off, tomorrow right? I’ll take you out” … I eye him wearily for a moment, my own uneasiness reflected in his eyes… “Fine, pick me up at 8 and no f-“…before I can say anything more Minhyuk’s mouth is on mine… the kiss is much gentler than the first but the hunger is still present… our tongues intertwine once more and my hands weave their way into his hair… The kiss grows more heated until we both begrudgingly pull away for air… “Dammit Minhyuk don’t do that when I have to leave” I pout placing a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping through the door…

I survey my reflection once more in the hallway mirror, my now clean hair cascades in a silk curtain down my back and my skin is glowing under the expertly applied makeup… I take a deep breath before making my way down the stairs… the thumping music grows closer as I continue to walk past the entrance to the night club and head for the back exit… I take in the sight before me … Lee Minhyuk is leaning against his luxury car … his hair is perfectly styled and he’s covered in designer wear from head to toe… I have to mentally remind myself to close my mouth so drool doesn’t smudge my lipstick… “Hey” I manage to squeak… “Hi yourself” he greets… his eyes travel down my frame taking in my physic and lingering on my exposed legs … “Shall we get going?” he asks… “Umm yeah” I bite my lip nervously… Minhyuk opens my door and I squirm under his gaze… the street lights reflecting in the shiny car surface as I settle into the comfortable passenger side…. Before I can close the door Minhyuk is at my side… his eager hands capturing my face and bringing my mouth to his… our lips mold together and that hunger from last night rearing it’s not so ugly head… the electric current between our bodies crackles the more our tongues continue to explore one another…slow sensual caress follow the kiss… our fervor making the idea of car sex even more alluring…. “The windows are fogging” Minhyuk observes once we’re forced to pull apart …. “I don’t mind” I quip before kissing him chastely once more…

The city roads are vacant…. The quite purr of the engine reverberates off the asphalt …I openly ogle Minhyuk … I take in his sharp profile… the street lights capturing glints in his auburn hair and his eyelashes flutter eloquently… his looks could put any high fashion model to shame, I think to myself… “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t even make it to dinner” Minhyuk mutters… his brisk tone sounding every bit as enticing as his appearance… “Oh? And what would we be doing instead Min-hy-uk?” I ask annunciating every syllable of his name… He turns to me so fast I’m surprised his neck didn’t snap… The car comes to a complete stop … my palms begin to sweat and I regret my big talk almost instantaneously…. “We’re about to find out, now aren’t we?” he asks before exiting the vehicle and walking around to my door…the seconds feel like hours… my stomach dropping when he finally opens my door… the cool city breeze nipping at my exposed flesh as I gratefully take his hand and step out of the vehicle… Minhyuk pulls me flush against his frame… the cool buttons of his jacket digging into my skin through my thin dress… “Cat got your tongue? “ Minhyuk asks smugly… our faces only centimeters apart…

“I can’t hold back anymore” Minhyk whispers… his eyes focused on my lips …. “Then don’t” I reply closing the short distance and connecting my lips to his… my senses are flooded with Minhyuk… everything from the scent of his cologne to the heat radiating off his body… our bodies cling to one another… our tongues interning and my body reacting and loving the way his own presses into every nook and cranny… “We should go inside” Minhyuk says once we’ve pulled apart… “Lead the way” I reply… Minhyuk’s eyes light up and he gives me a knowing look which I return with a smug smile… his lips are on mine as soon as the oak door is slammed closed…his hands hiking up my dress and bunching it around my torso… my fingers weaving their way into his hair and toying with the lose tendrils… Minhuky’s prominent bulge presses against my clothed core and I grind myself against him once more the wool and polyester doing little to provide friction…

Minhyuk smirks against my lips and continues to pull my dress up until it’s over my head and discarded on the marble floor… he walks us backwards from the foyer towards what I presume is his bedroom… our now discarded clothes and shoes being the only thing out of place In the immaculate apartment… feeling bold and aroused I turn us around and press him against the hallway wall … Minhyuk gasps in surprise and I take that opportunity to claim his mouth as mine… his hands are at my hips pulling me somehow closer to him… the feel of his bare skin against my own feeding my ego… I kiss along his jaw line and down his toned abdomen… feeling the hot hard muscles beneath my tongue … I tease the waistband of his boxers… nipping on his hip bones before pulling his boxers down… his member springs free the length hitting his stomach an appetizing cherry read … Minhuyk looks down on me… his eyes full of carnal promise and mischief… I kiss the tip and look at him through my lashes before hollowing my cheeks and taking him into my mouth… Minhyuk lets out a quite grunt… his adams apple bobbing and his eyelashes fluttering shut with every suck… I take him in at the back of my throat… his hands settle in my hair and slowly guide me at a rhythmic pace…

“Fuckkkk” Minhyuk hisses between his teeth…his hips moving at their own accord as I sheath my teeth against the hardened flesh… “Y/N, I’m baby I’m going to cum… “If you don’t want me to cum in your mouth-“ …before he can finish his sentence I release his length with a pop and ravish his now swollen lips… “I would rather you cum inside me” I reply looking at him through my lashes… “Are you on the pill?” he asks… his features darkening when I nod in confirmation… the expression on his face causing a shiver to run down my spine and resonate in my already sopping wet core… “I don’t like that baby girl, you’re mine” he says huskily… something in me stirs and a thrill arises in my body at the weight of his words… “Then show me” I challenge …. with that Minhyuk crashes his lips to mine and picks me up I wrap my legs around him instinctively …. Minhyuk trails kisses along my jaw line… his erection grinding against my core …he throws me onto the large mattress… “I’ve wanted to do this for so long” he mutters… “Really” I reply breathless… “From the first time I saw you, I went home and touched myself thinking about you”…”Oh “ I reply coquettishly… my hands going to my breasts and removing my bra… “What did you want to do to me?” I ask tweaking my nipples and moaning… “I want to make you want me as much as I want you” he replies… the air leaves my lungs at his words… I bite my lip… Minhyuk places a chaste kiss to my lips…his tongue begging for entrance… his mouth making it’s way from my jawline to my chest… he takes one nipple between his teeth … the purk bud standing to attention at his expert touch…

“I’ve never met a girl like you” he quips… “hmm?” I ask basking in the feel of his mouth on mine…the wet spot in my underwear pooling by the second… “Girls like you are hard to find” ….Minhyuk says before busying himself with scattering kisses along my navel….. his teeth toying with the waistband of my underwear”… his nose nestled between my folds… “You smell so fucking good” he says… I squirm under his touch and bring my pelvis up to meet his tongue … the wet muscle licks a kitten stripe along my folds and I have to bite my lip in order to keep my mewls at bay… “M_N_H_Y_K” I slur… his tongue slipping into my tightness… “I want you" I get out between pants … “Please” I whine tugging on his soft locks… taking pitty on me…Minhyuk aligns himself with my entrance and thrusts into me slamming his cock and filling me to the hilt… we both let out a guttural moan in unison… Minhyuk wastes no time and begins to rock his hips inside of me…. the motions starting languid and deep and gaining momentum with every sigh and grunt… I find purchase on his shoulders… Minhyuk continues to drill into me… the air leaving my lungs with every fluid movement… “You- are-so-sweet” Minhyuk coos against my lips in between his deep thrusts…

his hips bucking into me at a relentless pace as I continue to mewl and call out his name… “Fuck” I grunt pulling him closer… the light sheen of sweet mixing with our mingled breaths and my slick walls taking him in… “You feel so fucking good when you take my dick baby”… Minhyuk grunts into my ear… his length filling me to the hilt and while is slender digits expertly massage my clit… drawing patterns and silent vows onto the swollen flesh… he roughly thrusts inside me hitting that spot over and over again… time slows down as my walls clench around his length the hot white pleasure that courses through my veins making me moan and grunt in acceptance… my toes curling and my body feeling too hot for my own skin… the intensity driving me forward as I continue to float in the euphoric feeling… Minhyuk thrust once, twice, thrice before coming to stand still… his breaths shallow and his sweaty skin sticking to my own… Minhyuk kisses the top of my matted forhead before pulling out and rolling to my side… “Wow” he mouths still breathless…. “Thanks”I reply in mock sarcasm … Minhyuk looks over at me and kisses me chastely the kiss starts up sensual and sweet…his hands rubbing circles on my hips….

“Already?” I groan … I look up at Minhyuk to see a semi-embarrassed look on his face. It’s not even been twenty minutes, yet Minhyuk is already fully hard again. “I really don’t understand where this energy came from” I quip…“Please?” He begs crawling over top of my naked body and settling himself between my legs…. “You won’t have to do anything. I’ll do all the work,” he offers… “What would be the fun in that?” I ask connecting our lips once more….

GUYS I’M BACK AND BUTTER THAN EVER XD …. I’LL SHOW MYSELF OUT

BUT LIKE WHAT THE F ??… I’M GONNA NEED LEE MINHYUK TO RESPECT ME BC MY POOR SOUL IS DESCENDING INTO HELL.. PLEASE PLAY YOU AND I AT MY FUNERAL XD

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sunflower-via · 4 years

Text

Memories [Mark]

Pairing: Mark + reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 2.1k

desc: you try to forget mark but his memories follow you around

'Ring'

The bell of the coffee shop rung throughout the store, alerting all of the other customers of my arrival into the small, homely café. There weren't many people seated inside, but that was to be expected since not many people knew of it.

The cafe was always so welcoming, its brown benches along the walls of the store, and little bouquets of sunflowers hanging from the ceiling always reminded me of home. There was always the pleasant aroma of coffee beans and caramel in the air.

I walked past all of the other tables, trying my best not to disturb anyone. I finally reached my destination, the café's counter where I could place my order. It looked the same as always, the white bricks leading up to the wooden countertop, and the fake vines and flowers sitting just gently around the edges.

I smiled, recalling the pleasant memories that took place at this counter. Still, there was a looming feeling in my chest as one thing had changed. The worker behind the counter was different. I knew he wouldn't be there, but for some reason, I couldn't help but falsely hope to see his smiling face asking for my coffee order.

"Excuse me, Miss? May I take your order?"

I snapped out of whatever daze I was in and quietly told the young worker I'd have a caramel macchiato. After all, it's what he recommended to me the first time I ever came here. I must've looked crazy to him, standing in front of the counter for at least half an hour, just staring at the menu. Mark didn't mind. He just patiently waited for me to make a decision.

When he finally got fed up with me not deciding, he walked off and made me a drink. He called it the café's 'specialty'. I remember how I hurriedly took out my wallet in an attempt to pay. But he pushed my hands back and told me that it was on the house. I tried to pay him back, but Mark was just too stubborn. He told me he'd rather get to know me than take my money.

"Caramel Macchiato for Sunny?"

The young worker had called out my name, holding a white coffee cup with little yellow flowers on it. I grabbed the cup and made my way to the corner of the shop where a small bench for two was. Walking to this bench was practically muscle memory at this point.

I placed my drink down on the table and sat down. The day he and I met, I sat at this same table absentmindedly scrolling through my Instagram page. When I looked up from my phone, I was met with his sparkling brown eyes. They looked so energetic and innocent, quite fitting for the coffee shop that he worked at.

"My name's Mark, and you can mark me in your heart!"

Oh, we both cringed when those words came out. It was the cheesiest way anyone introduced themselves to me, but I wouldn't trade that introduction for anything in the world. Our laughter broke out through the small coffee shop, large smiles adorning both of our faces.

"Well Mark, I'm (y/n) but you can call me Sunny!"

It was adorable how his face contorted when he heard my name and nickname. I explained that Sunny came from my love of sunflowers, and a friend had called me it as little kid and it stuck.

"It must've been fate that led you to this coffee shop then, haha"

He seemed so genuinely intrigued, the excitement was oozing from his smile. It was Mark's break and I guessed this was my way of paying him back for the coffee. When his break finished, Mark ran behind the counter to grab a napkin. He wrote down his number. He made me promise that I'd text him when I got home, just to be safe.

Every once and a while I keep looking up at the counter expecting to see Mark there, eyes lighting up as they caught mine, brown hair bopping up and down as he excitedly waved his hand. Is it selfish of me to keep imagining him there when I know he isn't? Or am I crazy to imagine that he'll walk around from the back and tell the other worker, that he'd take their shift?

I sighed softly and stared down at my coffee cup. I hadn't taken a single sip yet, I'd been in the café for over an hour. I was foolish to believe I could come back here and not think of Mark. This was our home, the place that we felt safest and most comfortable, but now it just felt empty and nauseating. I pushed myself off the bench and threw the coffee cup in the trash. I felt bad for wasting the coffee, but nothing felt worse than the sinking feeling in my chest. I knew I had to get over him, but it felt harder than climbing the largest mountain in the world.

After leaving the coffee shop, I let my feet take the lead, walking wherever they decided to go. My head was filled with thoughts of Mark and his puppy-like personality. It was a bittersweet feeling whenever thinking about all the memories of us.

"Miss, would you care to buy some peaches?"

I looked around only to find myself in an outdoor market, the same one he took me to on our first date. A small, frail, old lady with long gray hair was holding a wicker basket full of pink peaches. I smiled at her and told her I'd take two peaches. She placed the basket down, and handed me two peaches, while I handed her the change that I had left from the cafe.

"Miss, you don't owe me this much please take some of it back!"

I didn't say anything and instead smiled and left. Mark used to do this a lot wherever we went. He always said that we should give as much as we can to those who are less fortunate than us. Mark was just a good person like that. He put everyone else's happiness and well being over his own.

"Sunny?"

I was distracted by all the stalls at the market that night that I completely forgot about his presence. When I looked up, he stood there, a bright smile on his face. He grabbed my hand and led me to another stall. So many great memories took place in this market. It seems fitting that I subconsciously led myself here, led myself to back to Mark.

Walking around the market for a little more, I decided once again to let my feet carry me to a new destination. I ended up at a riverbank filled with yellow daisies. I remember the first time I came here. It was so magical. He took me here when it was dark out. When fireflies were lighting up the sky along with the moon and the stars.

"Hey Sunny? I was thinking. What if, we became more than friends? I get it if you don't feel the same way, but I just thought I should put my feelings out there."

Mark sat directly across from me, his hands holding at least a dozen handpicked daisies. He had such a hopeful look in his eyes. Rather than respond, I moved in towards him and lightly pecked his lips.

"I'd like it if we became more than friends Mark."

He tossed the messily made bouquet of daisies to the ground and picked me up. Mark spun me in the air laughing loudly, happiness laced in his expression. I couldn't help but laugh along with him. I was just so happy at that moment. We spent the rest of the night laying in the field until he had to take me home.

I looked at the field with a glum expression on my face. This place was where I made some of the happiest memories of my entire life, but now it just hurts to even be here.

Mark was always too kind for his own good. In the end, it's what got him killed, and it's what killed me in the end as well. I can't bring myself to walk to the park where he died. It's painful to walk through there after it happened. I remember it all like it was yesterday. The events and words that Mark said to me will never leave my mind.

"Sunny! Let's go to the park today! It's beautiful outside, just like you!"

I giggled and took his hand as he led us to the park. Mark was so excited that day, for our second anniversary. He wanted to make it special, but God, I wish we had never gone out that day. When we arrived at the park, we sat down at a bench underneath a cherry blossom tree. I'm not sure how Mark always found the prettiest places to take me. We didn't do much other than talk quietly and lean against one another.

"Hey Sunny, do you see that?"

I looked over to where he pointed to, and I saw an older man grab a little girl off the swings and begin to drag her away from the park.

"Sun, I think she's in trouble! Come on let's go we can't let him take her!"

Mark grabbed my hand before I had the chance to respond. We ran over to the man and little girl, and he let go of my hand and tackled the man to the floor. I instantly grabbed the girl and called the police. Mark was wrestling the man on the floor when he suddenly pulled out a knife. Mark must have not seen it, or maybe he did but kept fighting the man until he pushed that knife straight through Mark's chest.

"MARK!"

I screamed his name so loudly. The people at the park probably heard me. The police sirens were blaring and the lights were flashing so brightly they could have rivalled the sun. The man got up and ran, leaving Mark there with the knife protruding from his chest. I left the little girl to the police and sprinted towards him.

"Mark, please don't leave me! Please, Mark, tell me that you're going to be okay!"

He gurgled blood and raised his hand to touch my face. We both knew that he wasn't going to make it, but I didn't want to believe it.

"Sunny, I wanted to ask you to marry me today. I know that it's not going to happen, but I want you to have this."

Mark shakily pulled out a ring box from his shorts and handed it to me. When I opened it, there was a ring with a gem that looked like just like a sunflower. On the band of the ring, the words 'You are my sunshine' were engraved. I couldn't help but burst into hysterical tears.

"Sunny, I love you. Don't forget about me, okay?"

Those were the last words he ever said to me. I wish that we had more time together. I miss him. So much. I saw his mother recently, and she seems to be doing alright. As alright as she can be for a mother who's grieving her child at least. She told me that I should try to move on, but I don't think I can. I could be anything in the world, but I just want to be Mark's. He was my one and only. My everything.

I looked around at all the daisies around me. There were as many in this field as there were in the memories we shared. I walked up to the old willow tree and leaned my back against it. I closed my eyes to rest peacefully for a little while. To try and forget this pain, even if it's just for a moment.

"Sunny?"

I opened my eyes to see Mark, standing in the middle of the field. The daisies were replaced with sunflowers.

"Mark?"

I ran straight into his arms, embracing him so tightly. I couldn't believe it. Mark was here, right in front of me, and I never wanted to let him go. It was a dream, it had to be. But I never wanted to wake from it.

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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What Does It Really Cost to Run a Restaurant added to Google Docs

What Does It Really Cost to Run a Restaurant

WStudio/Shutterstock

Restaurants have notoriously slim margins. Mei Mei in Boston reveals just how slim they really are.

“I have always thought to myself that the version of Top Chef that I would want to watch would be chef-owners plunging a toilet, cleaning an overflowing grease trap, balancing a balance sheet, and running payroll as fast as they could — a decathlon of all the administrative bullshit,” says Irene Li, the chef and owner of Mei Mei, a Chinese-American restaurant in Boston. “And obviously, people would be bored to death by that show, but that’s what it really is.”

These days, Li spends a lot of her time thinking about what it takes to keep a restaurant like hers running. Last year, she was the recipient of an Eater Young Gun award; she’s been a Zagat 30 Under 30 winner, and a six-time James Beard Rising Star Chef semifinalist. That said, she kind of fell into the industry and comes by her genuine enthusiasm for “all the administrative bullshit” honestly.

In the early days at Mei Mei, success was measured by having enough dumplings to get through the day and confirming that the bank account wasn’t empty. Today, every single staff member, from the dishwasher to the line cook, can interpret and speak to the restaurant’s entire profit-and-loss statement because, for two years now, Mei Mei has been opening its books to its staff. This means all staff are able to see every line item associated with money coming in the door and all of the expenses the restaurant takes on — from paying its employees to keeping the lights on. Not only that, each employee actually plays a hand in working to move the bottom line, working on teams tasked with the goal of reducing costs and increasing profits for the business. If the team wants to research and vet new vendors, they have that power. If they want to change the menu prices for a fixed period of time, they’re able to do that too.

In the three years since implementing this practice, Li says she’s seen a measurable difference. The line cook who once questioned Li about the $9 price attached to the Double Awesome menu item, an oozy egg sandwich, can now speak to all of the other costs — the things beyond the eggs, the pesto, and the scallion pancake breading — that they wouldn’t have known to consider before. Because there’s a staff member who called the electric company for refunds when the power went out, one who negotiated for better alarm fees, and another who put in the work to source a cheaper linen provider, there’s an understanding of the full picture of what goes on at the restaurant. As Li puts it, “There’s buy-in because their fingerprints are there.”

Now, it’s no longer enough for Li to share the nitty-gritty financial info with her team. She wants the public to understand it, too.

“The lack of willingness to talk about finances in this industry is holding us back,” says Li. “Culturally, we don’t talk about money at all, and my experience, even with other restaurant owners who I’m really friendly with, is that we’ll talk about all kinds of stuff. HR drama, health inspections — warts and all — but we definitely don’t talk about money. I feel like that is the last barrier that we have to break down in order to really all get on the same page and all figure out how to do a better job.”

Armed with the blessing of her most trusted friends and family, and a lot of nervous “wows,” Li decided that 2020 was the year to start the conversation. So, in the middle of the restaurant, as the Friday dinner crowd was beginning to pick up, we sat down to review the full profit-and-loss statement for Mei Mei for 2019 — something that any diner will soon be able to do.

What exactly are we looking at here?

Profit-and-loss statements (P&Ls) offer a record of a business’s profits and losses over a defined period of time. Essentially, the larger formula you’re looking at is sales - expenditure = profit. When we opened up Li’s P&L, she explained that there are four larger buckets that all of the many line items can be sorted into: income, cost of goods sold (COGS), direct labor, and finally, pages and pages of overheads.

For a restaurant, there are a few goal ratios associated with the major expense categories. Ideally, most operators aim to see COGS and direct labor together at 60 percent (at Mei Mei they target 20 percent and 40 percent, accordingly) and other expenses at 30 percent, leaving you with 10 percent profit. She then explained that independently owned restaurants most often hang out in the 4 to 6 percent range for profit. Don’t worry — there won’t be a quiz.

Businesses are required by law to pull a P&L annually. Most restaurants look at theirs quarterly. At Mei Mei, the entire staff digs in every four weeks.

At Mei Mei, the catering line item includes traditional drop-off catering, weddings, staff-led cooking classes, and restaurant buy-outs. Historically, Li has seen this line item trend upward over the past few years, which she says is an argument for doing more catering in 2020.

Surprise & delight — easily the most objectively “fun” line item name on the document — covers the $40 worth of product (nonalcoholic) that can be given away at each shift. “Sometimes it’s for when we need to fix something. Sometimes it’s for someone who had a hard time choosing between two dumplings, and we just let them have both. It’s for first-time customers we want to wow, and it’s for that person that comes in soaking wet because they didn’t have an umbrella and could really use a hot tea and a free brownie,” Li says. In 2020, Li actually wants to see this expenditure grow, and is now requiring staff to note what was doled out at the end of each shift.

COGS covers not only direct food purchases, but also anything that is necessary for providing the product to the guest. So included within this category are things like takeout boxes, napkins, and paper bags. Remember, restaurants are aiming for 20 percent here, and as Mei Mei focuses on high-quality ingredients, Li’s proud of where they’re at.

Catering margins are better due to the fact that the restaurant is able to plan around the exact amount of food and labor that a given job needs — something they, of course, aren’t able to do in the restaurant. Another reason Li believes they’re staying close to their target, all things considered, is the fact that the catering menu is fairly light on meat. This is helpful because Mei Mei only serves meat that is pasture-raised, humanely slaughtered, and sourced from the Northeast — meaning it isn’t cheap.

Direct labor is high at Mei Mei, but Li says she’d rather overspend a little on COGS and direct labor because she believes it reflects the values of the company — paying people well and serving good food. Back-of-house staff with no experience and front-of-house tipped workers who are still going through training start at $12.75, the Massachusetts minimum wage. Once tipped workers are fully trained and ready to work shifts on their own, they’ll start at $5/hour, slightly higher than the legal tipped wage ($4.95 as of Jan 2020; $4.35 in 2019). Managers start at $17/hour. Everyone makes overtime if they work more than 40 hours (1.5 times their standard rate), though Li says it’s rare to see 50-plus hours, as she and the team work hard to avoid burnout. “Salary plus 90-hour work weeks are a pretty common way that restaurant employers exploit their most valuable staff, and I’ve seen how negative the impacts are,” says Li.

On the health insurance front, Mei Mei contributes half the cost of health insurance for full-time staff. Li says, “It’s the best place we’ve been at, but we’d like to do a lot better.” She also shared that the restaurant does benefit from the fact that a lot of the staff is still able to stay on their parents’ insurance plans. The benefit line item includes training and certification expenses for things like ServSafe, a FOH safety training and certificate program, as well as public transit benefits through the Perq MBTA program. Additionally, staff members have access to a grocery program where they can order what’s used by the restaurant at Mei Mei’s rate.

Throughout 2019, Mei Mei had between 25 and 30 employees on staff. One important caveat when looking at staff wages is that not all of the employee wages actually fall into this bucket. Often, businesses will log salaried employees who work on administrative tasks into the overhead category rather than this direct labor section. As Mei Mei’s staff all have their hands in administrative work, a portion of these wages is allocated to the overhead section instead — more on this later.

What most people probably don’t realize is that restaurants often rent a lot of their equipment. For Mei Mei, that includes a dishwasher and an ice machine — so yes, it can cost over $6,000 a year just to clean some dishes and to have a reliable source for ice cubes. Next year, this number will go down a bit as Mei Mei purchased its very own ice-making machine.

Another surprisingly large sum? Linens. And at Mei Mei, linens are actually pretty limited compared to fine dining establishments with tablecloths and cloth napkins in the mix. Again, thanks to a staff member identifying a new linen provider, this cost should go down in 2020.

Software services include everything from bookkeeping to scheduling to playing music in the restaurant. Fees, permits, and licenses are a necessary evil for staying on the good side of the law.

If you’ve ever bought a bunch of household cleaning supplies at once, you’ll know they don’t come cheap — multiply that times more messes, a commercial-sized space, and the need to keep food inspectors happy, and you’ll see why keeping Mei Mei looking spick and span is a pretty sizeable expense.

Remember when I said a portion of all paychecks was allocated to another section to account for staff members working on administrative duties? At Mei Mei, administrative payroll covers these multitalented folks as well as salaried employees like Li, who’d already fall into this bucket.

Insurance here refers to all of the business’s insurance needs, covering things like vehicles, the building, and workers compensation.

Merchant fees are a biggie on the expense front. A lot of these fees are associated with our favorite delivery apps, which tend to take a pretty sizable cut. For Mei Mei, Uber Eats is walking away with 30 percent of the revenue, DoorDash and GrubHub are pocketing 25 percent, and Caviar is taking 17 percent — Li says that’s thanks to being grandfathered into a pretty good deal. “One thing we tell people is that if you can help it, pick up your food. If not, maybe ask the restaurant what delivery service they prefer you use.”

It’s pretty expensive just to have a place to operate a business and to keep it lit, with running water and a controlled temperature — especially in a city like Boston. That said, Mei Mei does tack on an optional utility service: composting. And composting actually cost over $4,000 for the company in 2019. But it’s important to Li and to the staff, so that’s an expense that isn’t going anywhere.

And once we account for the expenses, this is what we’re left with. Notably, this amount doesn’t include the debt repayment for the business or the taxes that they would owe. In Li’s own words, “This is the final story. It’s not nothing. It’s not great. But this is where we are.”

Erin Spencer is a writer and content marketer based in Boston.

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/2020/3/9/21166993/how-much-to-run-a-restaurant-cost-mei-mei-boston-finances

Created March 9, 2020 at 08:42PM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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waqasblog2 · 5 years

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Anchor Text Optimization - The Ultimate SEO Guide for 2019+

(Updated for 2019)

Hands down, the most important skill you can have when it comes to offsite SEO is anchor text selection.

Having the correct anchor text distribution can make you (or break you) in the SERPs. If you do it right, you’ll find yourself at the top of page 1 and you’ll do it with less links than your competitors.

If you do it wrong, say hello to Penguin.

Not surprisingly, the most common question I get from link customers is: What anchor text should I use?

While I’d love to be able to answer this for everyone, but there simply isn’t a 5-minute answer.

Selecting the right anchor text takes analysis and practice, but there is indeed a methodical and repeatable process that you can use over and over to correctly optimize your site.

This is a skill that you want to craft for yourself, rather than rely on others for, so take the time to master it.

But let me just say… once you get this down, it’s like graduating to the next level of SEO.

In this article, you’ll learn:

What is Anchor Text?

Quite simply, anchor text is the clickable text in a link.

In HTML it looks like this:

<a href=”https://diggitymarketing.com”>Awesome SEO Blog</a>

And on your webpage it comes out like this: Awesome SEO Blog.

In this example “Awesome SEO Blog” is considered to be the anchor text.

Why Care About it?

Anchor text is one of the indicators that Google uses to determine relevance.

For example, if a website is constantly getting links with the anchor text “dog collar”, Google is eventually going to determine that your site is about dog collars.

Simple stuff.

Back in the day, to get websites ranking, all you’d need to do to rank is send enough links with the anchor text exactly matching the keyword you want to rank for.

Ah… the good old days.

And then Penguin Came

It looks at the quality of the links your site is getting and, you guessed it, the anchor text pointing to your site.

If the anchor text distribution doesn’t look realistic, then you get penalized.

Sending anchor text with your keywords in it gets the ranking needle moving, but overdo it to the point that it doesn’t look realistic, and you’re going to be headed south very soon.

Now the question is, what is realistic for Google?

External Anchor Text Optimization

Determining Your Niche-Specific Target Anchor Text

The first step in anchor text selection is to figure out what is the ideal target anchor text distribution for your niche.

Here’s how I do it, broken down to its basics:

Analyze the Competition

Many SEO’s often talk about needing a “natural” anchor text distribution. When they describe it, it typically looks something like this:

We could break this down even further into categories like “Brand + target” (e.g: Golf Genius’ review of titanum drivers), but for the purposes of this exercise, its overkill. We’re looking for guidance, not supreme accuracy.

While many people stick to this idea that you need this perfect, “natural” ratio of various types of anchors, this simply isn’t the case.

Protip: Whenever you do a search for a specific keyword, Google shows you exactly what they like to see in the SERPs.

Do a search for your target keyword and toss the results into a backlink checker like Ahrefs.

Here, and only here, is where you’ll find the anchor text distribution Google is looking for.

Often this looks nothing like the cookie-cutter anchor text distribution that is supposedly “natural”.

Case in point – Keyword: “sell my car online”

Your anchor text plan often isn’t what you initially expect. I’ve been in niches where I had to consecutively hit the site with target anchors for a month straight until I was able to break into page 1. Sounds like anchor text SEO in 2005, but sometimes that’s what the niche is asking for.

Here’s an anchor text distribution that is currently going to the URL of one of my sites ranking #1 for a high-stakes affiliate keyword (It’s been ranked #1 since mid-2016).

Find the Average Anchor Text Distribution of the Top 5 Rankers

To figure out the target distribution of anchors for my particular niche, I rely on Ahrefs and Excel (alternatively SEO Jet and Linkio supposedly do this).

Step 1) Download the Ahrefs Anchor Text data for the site in position #1

Step 2) Categorize anchors by type

I use the “Referring Domains” column so I don’t double-count anchors sent from the same domain, possibly from a site-wide link.

Step 3) Find the anchor text distribution for this URL by creating a pie chart.

Step 4) Repeat for Sites in Positions #2-5

Step 5) Your Niche-specific Target Anchor Text Distribution = The Average of the Top 5 Sites

Step 6) Record and Implement

Now that you know the anchor text ratio that Google is looking for, it’s time to begin your link building campaign whose anchors will mimic this distribution.

I first start by recording the target distribution down in a Backlink Management Template.

Once you know “where you want to be” you can start incrementally sending links until you get there.

Q: This is great. Do I now send these links and anchors across my whole site, such that the overall domain itself gets this distribution?

A: No. Anchor distribution ratios are determined on a per-page basis. Any anchors you send to an inner page, do not affect the ratios on the homepage for example.

Q: My page ranks for many keywords. Which one should I use for my search to pull up the competition?

A: Use the main keyword you’d like to rank for. For affiliates, this is probably “best _____”. For local seo, its probably “<city> + <industry>”.

Q: I believe my competitors are hiding their PBN backlinks. What should I do?

A: First check to see if they blocked some of the less popular crawlers like Open Link Profiler. If they didn’t block it, great.

If you still can’t find their PBNs, skip over this competitor.

Remember, we’re looking for guidance, not accuracy.

Q: One of my competitors is an authority site that ranks with only 2 backlinks. Should I add it to the analysis.

A: Skip over it as well. It’s an anomaly and will distort your result.

Q: What if one of my competitors disavowed a bunch of their links?

A: You’re getting the theme now. When in doubt, skip over the competitor.

Mastering Anchor Text Selection

At any given time, I’m conducting at least 6 single variable SEO tests. In the last few years, I’ve completed over 200. A huge chunk of them have been related to anchor text.

Get a pen and paper handy because I’m about to reveal 13 anchor text selection tricks that will allow you to blow past your competition’s amateur SEO efforts.

13 Pro-level Anchor Text Selection Tricks

1. Never use the same target anchor text more than once

Whenever I make any SEO decision, I ask myself the question: “Does what I’m about to do look natural?” Anchor text selection is no different.

Back in the earlier days of SEO when you could pretty much get away with anything, people that wanted to rank for “dog training” would simply send all their anchors as “dog training”.

Clearly, this doesn’t work anymore but I still see it quite often. Money sites will have a balanced anchor text distribution (50% brand and URL, 10% misc, etc), but all 20 of their target anchors will be the same (dog training, dog training, dog training, …)

What are the odds of this happening naturally? The probability of 20 independent websites all linking to another website using the exact same target anchor text is pretty slim. If you have 500 backlinks it might move into the realm of “remotely possible”.

Instead, never use the same target anchor more than once and mix up your keywords by throwing in filler words. Not only does it look more natural, but it actually gets a better result with fewer links.

So in a nutshell, don’t repeat anchors, except in some cases like…

2. Utilize Your SEO Title Tag as an anchor

Your SEO title tag is something you fill out with your typical SEO management plugins: Yoast, All-in-One, Project Supremacy, etc.

It essentially determines how your page’s title is displayed in the SERP result listing.

Statistically speaking, this anchor text naturally occurs quite frequently. In fact, forums (for example), will even re-write your anchor text and default to the title tag when you link to an external site.

Just check out how often various sites have repeated title tags as anchors on some of my articles.

The great thing about the using the title tag as an anchor is that if you’re optimizing it correctly, it should be full of keywords. So when you reference it, these keywords get a lot of love and you can get away with it because statistically its a common anchor.

To learn more about how to optimize your title tags, check this out:

3. The Anchor Should Suit the Link Type

Links can come from multiple categories of sources. Just to name a few:

Again, statistically speaking, certain anchor types are used more often with various link types.

For example, when “normal people” (i.e.: non-SEOs) link to other websites in the context of a blog article, more often than not they’ll try to create anchors that describe what they’re linking to.

This usually results in a target anchor text. Scroll up to the first link I created in this article for an example.

On the other hand, when people create a list of links, they tend to either use branded or URL anchors.

For example: Here’s a list of my top 3 favorite SEO tools…

And how about sidebar links? 90% of the time people use images for their sidebar links. And what do “normal people” use as their alt tags (image equivalent of an anchor text)?

Usually, they simply describe what the picture is about…. or here’s the kicker… nothing at all.

Many people don’t know what an alt tag is, so they’re left blank. And that’s how you end up with so many empty anchor texts.

So use sidebar image alt tags for some general misc pillow link anchors (e.g.: product in blue packaging) or empty anchors.

In forums, people usually link with the URL or the SEO title tag as you learned before.

Lastly, with blog comments, people mostly use a name as an anchor.

4. Use the persona’s name as an anchor

If your website has any type of persona associated with it, sprinkle in some links with that persona’s name as the anchor.

It occurs naturally and frequently. In fact, “matt diggity” is the most common anchor that I have going to my site.

These days, as I teach in The Lab, I create a persona for each and every one of my affiliate sites.

This persona remains consistent across my hosting records, whois, social profiles and about page. It adds another level of “completeness” to the site.

5. When stuck, break up your keyword phrase

Let’s say your keyword is “plumber new york”. If you’re stuck in the rankings and simply aren’t getting any movement no matter how many links you throw at it, try sending just the word “plumber” or just the word “New York”.

I’m not exactly sure why, but it works. Likely because it just looks more natural. It’s completely possible that a New York newspaper writes an article about home maintenance companies in the area. They wouldn’t be making anchors like “New York plumber” because it’s already implied, being that they’re a New York newspaper.

I can’t count how many times this technique has gotten me out of a rut. Give it a shot.

6. Brand + target anchors

Another anchor type that appears frequently (especially in physical product niches where Amazon is present) is a combination of target keywords with Brand or URL.

Here’s an example in the essential oil diffuser niche. Notice how often Amazon and target anchors come in pairs:

This is great for us, because its an easy way to sneak in more target anchors while reducing the risk of penalty, simply because they’re paired with branded/URL terms.

7. Optimize in relation to your URL

Over-optimization isn’t just a function of your niche-specific target anchor text distribution. It also depends on the URL that you’re linking to. If your URL has your keywords already in it, you’ll have less room to send an anchor with those same keywords.

In example URL #1 above, the word plumber isn’t used at all, so you have the highest degree of freedom when it comes to sending anchors with the word “plumber”. URL #3 uses a variation of “plumber” twice, which really limits you in how many target anchors you can send to this URL. I would be extremely careful about over-optimization if you’re in the same boat as URL #3.

URL #2 is what most people are probably working with. In that case, stick to the niche-specific target anchor text and you should be fine. URL #2’s configuration is also what I recommend in my free Onsite SEO guide (found below).

Always remember, when building your own links, the goal is to try to mimic the anchor text profile that would have been created naturally… as if you weren’t building your own links.

This is why you should create a diverse profile of various anchor categories as according to the niche average. Categories such as branded, URL, target, misc, topic, etc.

Amateur SEOs might do well at varying up their target anchors (as in trick #1), but will use the same exact anchor over-and-over when they’re creating URL anchors.

But what are the odds that 100% of the people across the world that linked to you with URL anchors all sent exactly the same one?

There’s 64 variations (that I can think of) for URL anchors. Here’s a few.

Combo them together. Vary them up.

Another outside-the-box URL anchor is sending a homepage anchor to an inner page URL.

It’s pretty rare, but it happens.

Here’s one going to an inner page on Ahrefs.

9. Long Phrases

As SEO’s we often think, for lack of a better word… as SEOs.

But always remember, anchors for contextual links (i.e.: in the body of the article) naturally are trying to describe what they’re linking to. Sometimes that can be done with one word, sometimes it takes 10.

Mix in some longer phrase anchor texts now and then.

Scroll up to the last link I created in this article for an example.

10. Write anchors in English, not SEO-ese

When people are trying to rank for local terms, such as “plumber chicago”, what they typically do is create backlinks with the anchor “plumber chicago”.

But how does this look in an article?

“Most families in the area prefer to visit Dr. John Smith, whom is the top-rated plumber chicago.”

Our number one job as SEO’s is to make it seem like we’re not doing our own SEO, and to make it appear that people are linking to our sites on their own accord. Now looking back at the example anchor, no natural website would ever link like this.

Instead, just use “plumber in Chicago”. You’re still getting credit for “plumber chicago”, but you look natural while doing it, which results in a better ranking boost.

Note: this isn’t based on just theory. This is based on actual test results.

11. Synonyms

This handy trick is used to get credit for your keyword, while avoiding over-optimization. Google has built in an extensive amount of latent semantic indexing (LSI) and synonym matching into its algorithm. You see this on a daily basis but you might not notice it.

When you search for “how to sell automobile online” you’ll see that Google actually bolds the keywords that match your search terms. The word automobile has 4 synonyms (car, cars, auto, vehicle) that you can use instead. And this is just what’s shown on page 1.

When you’re reaching your limit on how many times you can use your target keywords, start to throw in synonyms instead. You’ll get the ranking boost while dodging Penguin over-optimization.

I do the same synonym replacement strategy when optimizing keyword density. You can read more about that here:

12. Surround anchor text with related keywords

It’s common industry assumption that if you surround your anchor text with adjacent keywords, longtails, and synonyms, that may help increase the relevance of that link.

For example, if your anchor text is “click here” then it really doesn’t provide any topical value.

But if you were to put it in a sentance like “To learn more about garcinia cambogia’s benefits, click here”, then the assumption is that the link will transfer more topical relevance.

I said “assumption” twice. Not because I don’t think its true, but just because I haven’t tested it myself, so I hesistate to stand by it.

The test is in the queue.

13. What if you’ve messed up?

Now that you have this information, you don’t necessarily need to go in and fix all your anchor text to be perfect. However, if you realized you’ve really screwed yourself, then I highly recommend that you don’t change your anchor text on existing links, but instead delete links and replace them with new links using the anchor text that you want.

Remember, the name of the game is to look natural. What kind of business owner would have the ability to contact all the ‘web developers’ who naturally built links to his site? Only an SEO.

If you’re already ranking decently, don’t change a thing. Simply use these techniques going forward when you build links and get a ton of additional value out of them.

Anchor Text for Tiered Link Building

A lot of questions come up regarding what anchor text to choose when you’re building links to a tier.

What is tiered link building?

It’s when you have links going to your money site (tier 1), and then you link to these links with a tier 2. Or you might link to the tier 2 as well.

Historically, tiered link building came about when Google started penalizing people that were spamming backlinks with automated software directly to their money site.

So what did blackhat SEOs decide to do instead?

Create a tier of web2.0s with high authority, link them to their sites, and spam the web2.0s instead.

Some fancier examples of this are:

So what kind of anchor text should be used to send to tiers?

The Alternation Technique

These days I’m not doing much tiered link building except for the occasional powering up of guest posts with PBNs.

The following tactic was developed back in the day based on a lot of testing with tools like GSA and FCS.

I’ve had discussions with Colby Wren (master of spam when it was still working) and Mark Luckenbaugh (fellow teacher at The Lab), and they do the same thing.

Quite simply:

This applies down into tiers 2, 3, etc.

As you’ve noticed, each tier will alternate between aggressive and non-aggressive anchors.

Tiered link building, by definition, comes with its own risks. People who employ it as a practice are doing so because they’re masking spammy links with a tier of more trusted ones.

That said, aside from these risks, this anchor strategy is optimal from both a safety perspective and an effectiveness perspective.

Internal Anchor Text Optimization

So now that you’ve mastered the art of external anchor optimization, guess what, the show’s not over.

There are still rules for the links you send internally, from one page of your site to another.

Story Time

It was a cold evening on November 2, 2012.

Matthew Diggity, amateur SEO, is sitting in his office with grand schemes.

Black Friday is just around the corner and Matthew wants to take his “Best Ergonomic Chair” website to the stratosphere.

The Idea

Review every single ergonomic chair in existance, link them back to the ergonomic chair review homepage, increasing the topical relevance, and then rank #1 for ALL THE THINGS!

The Failure

Idiot-Matthew indeed reviewed every single ergonomic chair listed on Amazon. He created beautiful standalone pages for each of these. And he linked all of them back to the homepage with “best ergonomic chair”.

What happened to the rankings?

Tanked the day before Black Friday.

Balancing Internal Anchors

The above is, sadly, a true story.

Eventually, I figured out what I did wrong. I had assumed that internal anchor text for a website was a non-factor.

Once I adjusted the internal anchor text to be more balanced, rankings recovered… unfortunately after the holiday season.

This story sits with me as a harsh lesson to this day and is the reason why I’m so particular about getting internal anchor text ratios correct.

From page-to-page, anchor distributions do indeed need to be distributed, but they can be a lot more aggressive than external.

Here’s the distribution that I typically follow now:

Internal Anchor Distribution Recommendation

Based on recent tests, this distribution is indeed on the conservative side. I’ve gotten away with a lot worse.

That said, it will keep you safe.

Internal and external anchor ratios do indeed interact together, so if you mistakenly over-optimize externally, this conservative internal ratio will give you some padding.

Thanks for taking a nerdy walk with me down Anchor Text Lane.

Let’s sum up what you’ve learned:

You’ve learned how to find the niche-specific target anchor text that your page needs.

You’ve learned how to make individual anchor text decisions that are going to set you apart from your competition by looking more natural, while still being effective.

You’ve learned how to balance internal anchor text.

If this has helped you or if you have any questions, please leave so in the comments below.

Last Updated on May 21st, 2019

This content was originally published here.

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