#Employee motivation tips

[headsupcorporation]

18 Secrets Ideas for Employee Engagement Checklist!

Unlock the potential of your workforce with these 18 secrets ideas for engaged employees. Discover innovative strategies to foster a positive workplace culture and boost productivity. Elevate employee satisfaction and retention with proven tactics that promote collaboration, motivation, and overall job satisfaction. Transform your organization into a thriving and dynamic workplace with these actionable insights for engaged and motivated teams.

[healthawareness]

Finding Motivation for Progress in a Hybrid Work Environment 🌟

Working from home and the office in this hybrid setup, huh? It's an interesting mix, and not always easy to stay motivated. Check out how I prefer to stay motivated

Hey there! Working from home and the office in this hybrid setup, huh? It’s an interesting mix, and not always easy to stay motivated. One day you’re in PJs on the couch, the next you’re in a formal shirt and tie. Balancing this can be tricky, but let’s talk about finding that drive to keep progressing. The Balancing Act 🎭 Hybrid work can feel like juggling two worlds. On one hand, you’ve got…

[bigwishes]

Was It Something You Ate?

Devon had always had it easy, born the son of a billionaire to one of the best pharmaceutical companies in the world he never truly had to work for anything. His dad had paid his way through all of his schooling turning Fs into As with nothing but a pen and a check book. University was even easier, Devon spent a majority of his time in other countries whilst or partying, it was only when he failed every class and was barred from graduation did his dad offer to build a new research facility for the school and suddenly Devon was graduating with honours. Devon never even experienced what it was to deal with shame, as an only child both his parents showered him with praise. Even when he got drunk and crashed the family boat his parents commended his bravery in such a frightening event. Life was easy as a gay man too, his family never cared and once his dad bought Devon his own house and allowed him to hire his own help he was constantly surrounded by masculine buff men who he paid extra to walk around shirtless.

Once Devon even went as far as to give his gardener a $4000 dollar tip just to let Devon film him drinking from the hose on his hands and knees. Of course Devon leaves out the part where he threatened to fire his gardener unless he allowed himself to be filmed.

A few months ago, Devon got the worst news of his life. His dad had told him he had to work for his weekly allowance of 1 million. If he didn't then his allowance would be slashed to a pitiful $400k. He couldn't bare to live like a peasant on such a pathetic amount of money so he agreed to his dad's outrageous terms. Devon had to work 1 hour a day for 4 days each week. Like some disgusting labour mule.

Devon had been working at the head office for 3 weeks and every day he called his dad begging to quit. A man like him wasn't meant for such things.

Devon stood on the stairs in front of the massive corporate building adjusting his suit readying for another day of hard labour. He checked his watch. 11:30am. Devon let out a tired sigh as he jogged up the stairs towards the door.

His dad had told him he had to come in any time before 12pm, Monday - Thursday. Devon had been given the role of "Team Motivator" and his job was to come in and hype up the employees.

Devon's elevator arrived at his office floor, already he needed his 15 minute break for the day, looking around seeing all these unattractive people. He never understood why the poor never took their looks more seriously or why there was always a terrible odour around people like them.

Devon stood in the elevator and raised his hand above his head. He swiped his hand down slowly and inch away from his face, he narrowed his tired eyes, cocked a toothy fuck boy smile and began to walk in-between the cubicles with the swagger only a rich fuck boy could have.

"hey hey hey team, how are those numbers looking? we got the advertisements out this morning? if not make sure you get it done by lunch, hey carol what's goin on with the boys in the lab? we got that new drug ready to roll out by friday"

A few people looked up from their desks at his peacocking and parading.

Devon clapped his hands together as he got closer to his office door. "Come on Come on people!! we got work to do, lets have a great day."

Devon slipped into his office and slammed the door shut. Inside he leant his back against it and let out an exhausted heavy sigh. He had no idea how he was going to go clubbing tonight after working so hard, but a wave of pride hit him as he heard the sounds of muttering out amongst the workers, he had done his job, inspired them.

Of course in reality Devon had done nothing at all. Most of the people on his floor had been working in the office since 7am and everyone ignored his morning speech as it was the exact same rehearsed scripted speech he had been saying each morning since his first day.

Numbers weren't part of their department,

There were no advertisements due this morning,

The boys in the lab didn't have any upcoming deadline,

There was no Carol.

Devon waltzed over to his break area at the back of his office. Originally meant for small intimate meetings, Devon had decked it out with a plasma screen TV and all his streaming services. Not that he got to use it much, he only got to be in his office for 45 minutes of his working day and that really only meant he got to watch an episode of something if he was lucky. Currently he was watching a new fitness challenge show where 20 jacked dudes were pitted against each other in different fitness challenges.

Devon threw himself back on the couch in a cocky man spread and rested his hand on his crotch. Whilst he respected the fact that he couldn't jerk off in the office, it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy how his dick felt hard whilst he watched a handful of jacked men compete for money.

30 minutes into his show and Devon saw a guy in a lab coat walking past his office window. The guy was wearing a blue button down shirt that was slightly loose in the front. He let out a loud sigh and got up from his couch walking over to his office door. Devon swung the door open and called out to the man in the lab coat before gesturing him to come into his officer by curling his index finger repeatedly.

The guy in the lab coat walked into Devon's office

"shut the door behind you bro,"

The man in the lab coat shut the door and turned to Devon all confused

"What is your name man?"

"John"

"Do you know what my job here is John?"

"Ill be honest with you Devon, nobody really knows what you do here" John replied with a cheeky smirk

Devon laughed loudly whilst slapping his desk with one hand,

"Ya know man, my dad had given me the important mantis of motivating our team"

"M-mantis? do you mean mantle?" John lowered his eyebrows confused at how this guy had somehow convinced his dad to give him the biggest office in the building.

"not important. my job is to make sure the people who work at our company are the best they can be"

The thought that maybe Devon did know what he was talking about entered John's mind, he thought maybe he was trained in motivation speaking and would talk to people one on one to help them better manage their work life balance

"look buddy, I can tell, with the way that shirt of yours is sagging in the front, your shoulders not filling out giving you that hot V shape, no pec cleavage on display and that ugly as fuck white coat, you are not living your best life" Devon gestured his hands either side with a big smirk on his face like he had seen his dad do when he was talking to other business men.

The benefit of the doubt dropped out of John's mind. "Nope, this guys a fucking moron" he thought to himself.

"Devon, I appreciate the concern, but I think I'm fine"

"I'll let you in on a little secret man, if a gay stud like me doesn't want to see you on your back, you're fat.."

"WOAH, DEVON THAT IS INSANELY NOT OKAY"

"bro, I'm just trying to be the nice guy and tell you what other people won't" Devon cockily dropped down into his nice leather chair behind his desk. "ya know, my pool guy had a kid and 2 weeks after his abs started to fade and do you know what I did?"

John wanted to say something clever but it would probably go over Devon's head, or worse, if he understood it he might lose his job.

"I fired him John, I don't want some fatty in a speedo working on my pool, and I don't want fat guys working here either"

John was too caught off guard by the first part of Devon's statement

"You make your staff work in speedo's? I think that might be illegal?"

"Look, dude, don't you wanna look like me I mean, check me out. biceps hugging my shirt, shoulders pulling it apart, my chest popping out catching everyone's attention, my abs so fucking tight you can see them through my shirt. I look HOT, you look FAT Johnny"

"Okay, I'm not even chubby though? I'm 6.2 and 85kg. I'm not exactly overweight"

"Buddy you still don't get it so let me spell it out for you, a fit body is hot, a 2 pack means you are fat, no abs showing at all? you're overweight!"

John fluttered his eyes, stunned by Devon's view of the world.

"I thank you for, whatever the hell this was Devon but I have a job to actually get back to"

John began to walk out of the office before Devon called out to him, a tone of desperation in his voice.

"WAIT....can you get me a coffee, almond milk, iced, NO WHIPPED CREAM, I want a drop that weighs exactly one quarter of a gram of caramel mixed in counter clock wise with a bamboo spoon. AND NO PLASTIC OR PAPER CUPS make sure you get it put in one of those little metal ones, no lid.

"No, Devon that isn't my job"

"You work for my dad, so if you want to keep working for my dad you'll do it"

John gritted his teeth. He unfortunately couldn't call out the rich boy on any of his bullshit without risking his entire career, But maybe there was something else he could do.

A few minutes past and John returned to Devon walking out of his office.

"Ah, great timing John, I'm just leaving"

Devon snatched the coffee out of John's hand and noticed something strange. A purple swirl drifting and dispersing into the coffee.

"What's this?" Devon said raising the corner of his lip in disgust.

"oh, its purple caramel, less calories" John quickly blurted out.

All concern dropped from Devon's mind as he took a sip of his drink.

"great call man, its that kind of intimidation we want to encourage here"

John had to stop himself from slamming the palm of his hand into his forehead, clearly Devon meant initiative.

"Ya know, man you might wanna switch to this low calorie caramel I told you about, because when I take over from my dad, first thing I'll do, anyone without a six pack is being let go"

John just gritted his teeth and smiled, "great idea, I'll have to give it a try"

Devon had already left before John could finish his sentence, but John didn't care, in fact he was hoping that coffee would keep Devon away for at least a few months.

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

Devon stepped out of his car throwing the metal coffee cup on the back seat behind him. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to his driver and he began jogging up the stone stairs to the front door of his mansion.

As Devon jogged up the stairs he felt something strange. His ass felt heavier, tighter against his carefully tailored pants. He felt it bounce and jiggle on his way up and once he got to his front door he had to stop and massage it briefly. It hurt worse than that time he was grounded and had to fly to take a 12 hour flight in business class.

He entered his house and instantly unbuttoned his pants, after a long hard day at the office he just wanted to get his work clothes off and wash the smell of poor people out of his hair. Devon undressed himself as he walked down the hallway, throwing his clothes on the ground behind him. Someone would be by to pick them up later, he was never sure of exactly who picked up his clothes but it was someone on his staff. He walked into his elegant bathroom covered in tiles and stone work imported all the way from Italy, his bathroom alone cost more than some peoples houses, of course when he moved out and had his house built his dad forked out for all the costs so he wasn't even sure how much everything really cost.

Devon pulled his hair out from his short pony tail and let it hang down. He flexed his broad shoulders in the mirror, his perfectly defined muscles. He wasn't a bodybuilder by any means but he still had a much better body than most people he came across.

His pecs were the main attraction and he often experienced men he brought home squeezing them as he bounced them. His flowing locks drove men wild, being a billionaire helped to prevent any thinning so often the men he slept with were not only turned on by his angelic looks but there was also a hint of jealousy when they ran their hands through his hair, which did nothing but turn Devon on more.

But something was different about him today, his abs were wrong. Normally a beautiful and cut six pack but now he was only seeing 4, and barely 4.

He felt his stomach, the bottom towards his pelvis felt like it was sticking out, ever so slightly.

"oh well, probably bloated from the caramel" he thought to himself

Devon pressed a button on the wall and instantly the water began to flow at the perfect temperature, no need to wait or pathetically dangle his hand in the water like a peasant, he just pressed a button and stepped in. As he went to step in the shower something else caught his eye, something behind him.

"Was my ass always this big?" he asked himself allowed.

Reaching down he grabbed handful of his own ass, it was still firm but it wasn't as hard as stone like he was used to, there was a new squeeze to it, like trying to work with cold clay. Devon took his finger and placed it under his ass cheek, flicking upwards he watched as his whole ass rippled and bounced more than he was used to.

*sigh* "maybe I'll only train legs once a week for a bit, don't want anyone thinking I'm a bottom"

Devon stepped into the water, instantly he felt relaxed as the warm water washed over his face and ran down his body. He squeezed out a decent amount of his tropical scented soap into the palm of his hand and began to work it over his entire body. Washing himself but also taking the time to feel himself. He got hard as he pictured his own perfection, his own brilliance.

Using the lotion he worked his way down to his pelvis, and then to his dick. Devon closed his eyes and bit his lip as he faced into the water, using both hands to rub and pleasure his 12 inches. He couldn't help it, he loved himself so much, he loved his body. He often fantasied about cloning himself just so he could have the experience so many others had been graced with, sleeping with the perfect man.

Devon moaned feeling the water on his lips and the pleasure he brought to himself. He was so close but something started to bother him. He felt hungry, which was unusual because he had such a strict diet routine and always ate at the perfect time every day. He tried to supress the feeling instead focusing on the building pleasure, but it became harder to do so the longer he lasted. The only downside to lasting an hour was it was easy for him to accidentally edge himself if he got too distracted. Unfortunately this was one of those time.

Devon's stomach let out a loud audible groan and he started to feel not just a little peckish, but he felt starved, like he had forgotten breakfast and all his morning snacks.

"uuugggh" He moaned as he let go of himself and turned his attention to finishing his shower routine.

He started pulling out small bottles from a small alcove build into the marble walls of his shower. Starting his multi-step face routine, ignoring the pain in his stomach. It was only when he started his hair routine that he all became a bit much and his stomach tenses letting out an audible grumble.

Devon's hands dropped from his hair to his stomach as he grabbed it from the hunger pains. It felt, almost plump as he rubbed it trying to soothe it. He quickly washed the conditioner out of his hair and got out of the shower.

Pressing a button on the wall an intense heat kicked in as the light above started radiating heat into the room instantly helping the water dry up on his skin. Devon closed his eyes and looked up at the roof letting the water droplets dry up, but the noises from his stomach didn't stop, it got worse. Every few seconds his stomach would let out a loud grumble.

"fuuuuckk, who knew one coffee would get me so bloated..."

Reaching into a small draw Devon pulled out a paid of white underwear which he slipped on. As he did he felt the back struggle to fit. Everything was perfectly tailored to his body to make him look his best but this pair felt weird on him. He felt his ass jiggle as the fabric slide over. He felt the meat of his ass cheeks spilling out of the sides and he could feel the fabric tightly stretch across his behind. As he took his first steps the underwear only felt more uncomfortable, like it was three sizes too small. He walked around the small corner in the bathroom back to the mirror so he could get a better look.

"WHAT THE FUCK" Devon screamed in shock as he stared at the reflection before him.

Devon stood there in shock as he looked at the chubby man before himself.

"I-I- OH GOD, I-I'M FAT"

His stomach loudly grumbled, almost like it was responding too him

"uuuuggghhh, oh god" Devon moaned as he grabbed his new chubby belly with both hands desperately hoping he could push it back in.

His body felt like it wasn't his. He could still feel all the muscle tone it was just buried under a layer of blubber. Taking a step forward he watched as his stomach jiggled. He grabbed his phone off the counter top as he started to panic. He sent out a mass message to everyone on his staff.

"EVERYONE GO HOME AND TAKE THE WEEK OFF, GOING ON MY TRIP EARLY"

Instantly Devon's stomach grumbled. He tossed his phone down on the bench, closed his eyes and grabbed his stomach as a reaction to the pain. The pain got worse as his stomach's grumbling turned to gurgling.

Devon began taking in deep breaths, with each breath his stomach expanded, and with each exhale it deflated, but not all the way. Devon began to itch all over. With on hand already on his stomach he took his one free and desperately began to itch his chest and arms.

He watched as his thin layer of hair darkened and grew longer, slowly making him look like he had never waxed in his life. After a few minutes the itchiness began to die down and Devon's second hand moved down to help massage his complaining gut.

"wh-what's happening to me" Devon cried out, tears starting to well in his eyes.

Suddenly his stomach let out an insatiably loud groan, followed by a noise he had never heard before.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGG"

Devon yelled out in pain and watched in the mirror as his chubby belly rapidly expanded into a big round gut within an instant. It took him a minute to recover and adjust to the pain. He thought his skin had surely just split open, but it hadn't, what he saw in the mirror was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

Devon was greeted by a large hairy bouncing gut.

"OH MY GOD, W-WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, I LOOK LIKE SOME FUCKING PIG"

Devon bounced his gut with his hands and watched it shake like jelly.

Within a matter of minutes, Devon had gone from sexy billionaire who was on magazines around the world, to a fat greasy pig.

He couldn't help but bounce his gelatinous belly in shock, he almost burst into tears at what a fat freak he had become. He was disgusted by himself, he couldn't go to work like this, he couldn't let his staff see him like this, but the worst part about becoming a fat pig.

He was starving.

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

Two weeks went by and Devon's mansion had started to become a mess after he sent all his staff away telling them he was off on his trip. His towels and clothes scattered all over the floor. Take out bags and food containers were all around his house. Without someone to pick up after him, Devon was disgusting.

He sat on his couch taking a multiple food containers out of two paper bags that had just been delivered to his door. His stomach loudly groaned. Devon picked up his phone off the coffee table and opened Instagram. The first post was that of a friend who had actually gone on the trip he had planned to take.

It was a photo of his friend Todd standing next to a tall black bodybuilder on a tropical island, with the caption 'I think I found love out here in the sun'

Devon's stomped his feet causing his meaty thighs to tremble.

"ITS NOT FAIIIRRRR, I SHOULD BE OUT THERE, THAT BIG HUNK OF MEAT SHOULD BE DATING ME, M E, NOT TODD"

tears started welling up in his eyes Devon flicked open a white food box on his coffee table revealing a beautifully decorated white chocolate mud cake which he instantly destroyed by digging his hands into it and stuffing it in his face.

between in monstrous and obnoxious chewing he stuff grabbing his belly and jiggling it with one hand.

"WHEN WILL YOU GO AWAY" Devon cried as he shovelled more expensive food in his mouth and washed it down with a bottle of lemonade like a spoilt pig.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

sooner or later he'd realise if he wanted it gone, he was going to have to work for it...

---------

NOTE: hope you all enjoyed this, my inbox has a bunch of requests begging for a weight gain story and whilst I don't tend to write this sort of thing too often I thought I'd feed the hunger so to speak and write one for those wishing for one.

[itsonlydana]

hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!

Lattes and Love | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of

tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff

word count: 2,7k

an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.

Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.

You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.

You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.

These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.

There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.

The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.

When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.

"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."

It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.

"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.

"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."

You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.

"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:

"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."

You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"

Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.

You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.

Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.

"Oat, please."

You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.

The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"

Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."

Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.

And created the perfect heart.

You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.

It's just coffee.

But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?

So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"

He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"

"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."

"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."

"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.

The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.

You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"

"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.

Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.

You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.

"Could I get your name?"

"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"

Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.

A soft hum.

Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.

Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.

"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.

The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.

"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.

He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.

The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.

You sighed.

For good measure, you even glared at the sign.

Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.

It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.

Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.

On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.

On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.

The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:

"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"

"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:

"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"

"Yes, I am vegetarian–"

The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.

Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.

"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"

Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.

Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.

You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.

It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.

It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[sevsdollette]

small little Sevika idea i’ve had bouncing around my brain:

nsfw, stripping, lesbian activity ;)

MDNI

You and Sevika both work for Silco, so the two of you hang out at the last drop together all the time. You’ve been together for a while, but some newbies like to flirt with you since they don’t know who you’re with.

There’s a pole and a stage on Saturday nights with the option for some of Babette’s employees to come dance on it for some extra tip money.

Most nights, you just sit with Sevika and play cards. You’ll sip your drink, either enjoying the sweet taste of a cocktail or taking shots with her. On Saturdays, you and her watch from a distance at the women who danced on the pole, but you never went too close

One Saturday, while Sevika’s being a bit too brutish than usual, you start getting ideas in your head about how to piss her off. If she’s going to make you mad, you’ll do it right back.

Now, you’re a bit drunk, but you stagger your way to the stage and take your place on the pole as the last person was getting off. You’re wearing sometime tiny, as your expectation for the night was to taunt Sevika up close. But now you’re going to tease her from across the room.

She thought you’d gotten up to get a new drink or another round of shots, but the commotion of viewers surely grabbed her attention pretty fast. As you spun and ground on the pole, you could feel her nasty glare on you. On every part of you.

Despite how upset you were making her, she wasn’t just staring out of anger. Perhaps that made her even more angry.

As you continued your dance, she got up from her booth, forgetting her cards, and slowly moved to the other side of the room. She stayed to the back of the crowd at first, watching but pretending she wasn’t, but you knew she was there and you kept playing it up.

You were insatiable to the audience and they kept calling you to do more and more. You let anyone slip a dollar in your cleavage or in the waistband of your skirt. Soon enough, Sevika was at the head of the crowd, mere inches from the stage.

She was staring up at you with crossed arms and a heavy brow, pretending to be angry. She flexed the thick muscle of her biceps and tug her thick fingers into her skin like she was tense. Even with that sharp glare, you knew you had gotten to her.

To the disappointment of everyone else in the crowd, you climbed off stage at the end of your song. Sevika helped you down, her hands sliding up your thighs, under your skirt, and over your ass. Just enough so no one could see, but you could feel her intention.

The two of you left quickly after downing one more drink. She had to get you home. She wasn’t speaking, but every moment was spent with her eyes on you and her hands somewhere lower.

As you walked home, she had her arm around your waist with two promising fingers creeping under the top of your skirt. Just to feel your skin.

“When we get home,” she whispered in your ear, “You’re gonna learn what actually defines the name stripper.”

Sat on the edge of the bed, Sevika leaned back on her hands as she made you take off all your clothes in front of her. She bit her lip as you unclamped her bra, nearly lunging to do it herself. She felt herself salivate as your lacy panties slipped down your thighs.

You approached her, standing just close enough to lean over her face and stare into her “angry” eyes. She was going to punish you. You knew that. But you weren’t going to let up that easily. The show had just begun.

sorry no smut unless y’all want it. i’ll make a part two. it’s been a minute for me sorry lesbians. but with season two happening soon 😨😨 i hope the community will come back and i’ll have more motivation.

but if Sevika dies in season two i’m quitting forever

[throwaway-yandere]

ERROR 410: GONE (Yandere Faceless!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

A/n: thank you for the 5 dollar tip, "anonymous"! I asked them for what they want in exchange and they asked for a fac█le██ ayato fic... Alright then... You did ask for it...

Unreliable synopsis: Your new coworker doesn't seem to be from around here...

It was a cramped night at the bus stop. Except for the elderly, many people had their phones out since it was nearly midnight and nobody had the stamina to engage in conversation. You recently got promoted as a district manager for an international company, and oh, the work is just too exhausting to drone about. However, in this station, it didn't matter if you were an energetic student or an employee. The bus is abnormally later than their usual "lateness", and such a redundant statement elucidates just how shoddy their schedule is. Everyone was simultaneously stressed and drained and each of their war faces screamed that they would selfishly fight for the seat ride home.

All except for one man.

From the moment he arrived, you were peering at him. He had a similar appearance to the character you were "maining" in the video game you were enamored with for approximately two years. Though you seriously doubt he was in cosplay, he and that favorite of yours look eerily identical. His long-sleeved black coat and simple white turtleneck blend in with modern fashion fairly, save for his elaborate light blue hair, which was organically unkempt and not at all synthetic. His keen eyes led you to believe that he is from an Eastern lineage, most likely Japanese, but you didn't want to make any unfounded assumptions. Because it's simply impossible for someone to cosplay at this time, you were left silently marveling at the incredible coincidence.

He muttered something to himself, but you did not hear it.

“11:56 PM.”

You had a smidgen of knowledge regarding the bus schedule enough to give yourself a pep talk in the hopes that it would motivate you to give him directions. But no amount of psyching yourself up could have prepared you for when another person walked up to him. She asked the question you had been meaning to ask for the past three minutes, assuming she was a college student. He grinned at the worried girl. 

He was stunningly gorgeous when he smiled.

Wholly unfair how he exudes an aura of elegance whilst wearing normal clothes while you look like a sloppy burrito wrapped by a beige shawl this dead of night.

“Oh, no, no. I am not at all lost. I’m simply looking for someone.”

Everyone was fairly sure that person would never arrive, but he stayed roving around the room, pacing back and forth as if the person he was looking for will arrive the next minute. Whoever it was, you were starting to get angry on his behalf. Who would leave such an attractive man waiting? It was improper. 

But to be honest, you have already admitted to yourself that your life is quite dull— so you’re aware that this nonsensical drama you had over this imaginary person stemmed from boredom.

Out of the blue, he fixed his gaze on you.

The stranger’s eyes softened. The simmering panic in his expression vanished in an instant the moment he saw your face, and his mouth gaped open for a short while before he sauntered forward, ignoring the student who awkwardly shuffled back to her waiting spot.

You immediately felt small, upright, and astoundingly nervous. Not ready to be accosted by anyone at all.

“There you are…” He gave you that smile again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Mx. (Y/n).”

You scanned the area before jabbing your finger at your chest. He nodded as if you were being ridiculous to consider that it may be someone else.

Ah, so the lookalike was waiting for you. 

You were mentally fighting yourself.

“I’m ███████ █████,” he said in a gentle tone— not at all reflecting the stressed out look he sported a moment before. “— The new product manager. I’m an incredibly recent hire, so please do not feel bad for not recognizing my face.”

That wasn’t the reason why your eyebrows were knitted, though. It’s because you DO recognize his face, but you doubt he’d take you for a reasonable person should you start pointing out his physical similarities with a fictional character.

███████ █████, huh? His full name is a bit average-sounding. Sounds like something you may have read on an early 2000s Weaboo forum on "What would your Japanese name be?" which lists down dates, birth months, and the first letter of a person's first name. However, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable— you just chalked him up as an unfortunate kid whose parents were eager to give their son the name "John Doe" when given the chance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister █████.”

“P-Please,” he shook his head. “Let’s drop the formalities. We shall work alongside together officially tomorrow. I would like for us to talk more casually if you would not mind.”

His vocabulary was painfully filled with constrictive pleasantries for someone who seemed to be eager to have a casually cordial relationship with you. Since a product manager and a district manager have roughly equal levels of authority in your company, his desire for friendship isn't too shocking.

Yet, you can’t help but stare… It’s still so strange how he also has a mole right underneath his lip.

He looks just like Kamisato Ayato from Genshin Impact, but not for long.

At first, you envied █████’s youthful glow and wanted it for yourself, but upon learning that he will replace Mister Blaiddyd, you mentally prayed that he wouldn’t lose his mind from stress like his predecessor. That’s how stressful being a product manager is. Give him two months and he’d probably start ruining his coiffed hair during crunch times.

“Understood,” your eyes darted back to the bus station, which remained regrettably devoid of any vehicle. You were starting to consider taking a taxi to avoid this awkward conversation but there’s not a single one in sight. “Since you’ve mentioned that you were trying to find me, might I ask why that is, exactly?”

“Ah, yes,” he instinctively adjusted his collar. His sharp and sophisticated face never averted away from you. “You see— Miss Goneril had informed me that I should approach you if I had any concerns about work.”

Ahh… Hilda…

His future plight still doesn’t change how annoying this situation is. Can’t believe you’re already assigned to helping a newbie out as soon as you got your promotion. She’s planning to milk your kindness dry this month, isn’t she? Despite being your best work friend, Hilda doesn’t have to be unkind to someone to exploit them. But you suppose you wouldn’t mind too much, given how he doesn’t look half-bad. Call it vain, call it a “coping mechanism”, but there wouldn’t be any shame on your end to teach a new attractive coworker the ropes of your job. 

You'll treat him nicely. As the good Samaritan you are, maybe you'll also ask him to give up while he's ahead for good measure.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind helping you out—”

“I'm most grateful!”

“—but it is VERY late.”

You took a quick look at your phone. 11:53 PM—and there were three messages from Miss Goneril confirming that █████ is the new hire. Since Hilda never filtered her remarks when it came to... aesthetically pleasing people, you instantly pocketed your phone. It was a grave oversight on your end that Hilda found out earlier that you weren't paying attention to her babbling earlier. You wouldn't get such a long message on how "hot" █████'s mole was if you were a better pretender. Her thirst was kind of unsettling.

Ah, whatever. You’ll just delete it later.

You held back a yawn, “where’s your stop?”

“███ ███████.”

“Ah, that’s where I drop off too.”

Additionally, it is the bus's final stop, so you would have to spend a lot more time with him. Great. You hoped he wouldn't try to strike up a conversation with some small talk.

He placed his hand on his chin. Now that he’s up close, you realized just how long his sleeves were. The silhouette nearly reminded you of Kamisato Ayato once more. █████ nodded with a half-teasing smile.

“Oh, not to worry, I know.”

Hilda must have told him right away. You secretly hoped that the main reason she paired you two up was because of your shared destination so you could applaud her wise decision-making skills, but you knew better. Once more, Hilda is attempting to match you with someone.

You cleared your throat, “well then, you better prepare yourself with some sleepless nights because the buses around here don’t come around plenty. You’d have to stand most of the time—”

He muttered something again, “three minutes left.”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing. I’ve recently moved here so please do continue explaining.”

“… Right.” You sighed, “do you live in ██████████?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’d go in opposite directions. I live in █████ so this is the only bus we share.”

“Unfortunately.”

That almost made you snort. Unfortunately? It's not at all unfortunate, though. During these hours, you rarely feel socially motivated to communicate, and you just know deep down that once he starts working, you'll find a method to board buses separately from him.

“If it’s alright for me to quickly digress— may I trouble you with something, (Y/n)?”

“Sure.”

“May I take a picture with you?” █████ asked. “I want to upload it in my Instagram Story to show my friends and family that I’m faring well. They’ve been insistent that I should make friends on my first day of work— even when based on technicalities, this doesn’t qualify as my first day.”

He must be the eldest and the breadwinner of the ████████ family. That's admirable. Working with someone like him is not a problem for you. They constantly know how to get the job done.

“I don’t mind,” you said, slightly nervous. “But can you not add any weird stuff?”

“Weird stuff?”

“Like, maybe a “my new coworker is ugly” or something like that.”

“W-What?!” █████ jolted. “I would never do such a thing! Especially towards you, my bel—”

“R-Relax, that was just a joke.” Not really. “Is it okay if I don’t take my face mask off?”

“… Of course, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great.”

█████ scooted closer to you, placing his phone up and angling it in the direction that mostly showed your face. It’s as if he didn’t want his face to be seen, but with a handsome face like that? You’re highly doubtful that is the case. His hands were trembling. The poor man must’ve been incredibly sleep deprived and running on coffee like you.

Unwittingly, you placed your hand above his to steady his phone and you heard him gasp softly. You quickly withdrew your hand away as though you touched a hot kettle when its anything but warm.

His hands were cold, it almost didn’t feel human.

“Oh— sorry!” You shrugged, cringing. “I didn’t mean to—”

“N-No, it’s fine!” He chuckled nervously. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I have been told that I am terrible at using a Kamera.”

Why does he say “camera” with a hard “K”? You’ve never heard anyone else pronounce it in that way. Possibly a local accent. It was tempting to ask where he’s from but perhaps that topic would be better brought up some other time. Asking that question might just make him miss his family more, and his parents might be wide-awake right now anticipating any form of reassurance that their child is doing fine.

“Then allow me to take the pic for us.”

He smiled eagerly, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

█████ handed you his phone. You set it up at the same angle he had originally intended, although this time his phone's screen displayed both your faces more clearly. Although you made an effort to contain your emotions, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how much he resembles Kamisato Ayato. You mentally readied yourself for the possibility that you would feel his breath on your neck, but you didn't feel him breathe. That doesn’t make you feel untouched, however, since he rested his hand on your shoulder to pull you close enough for the picture.

Is he holding his breath?

“Stay still,” he commanded.

You clenched your fist, trying hard NOT to think about how close his voice is to Chris Hackney’s.

After you pressed the shutter button at least three times, you opened the pictures you’ve taken.

He really does have a beautiful smile.

“Is there something wrong with my face…?”

“Hmm? N-No,” you sputtered out. “I just thought it was a good pic.”

“I’m glad,” he laughed heartily. “I’m still getting used to this face after all.”

… Huh.

Maybe you lack sleep, but the photos remind you of those AI-generated photos on social media— the stolen ones that artists rightfully plead credit for. Maybe you just find him excessively gorgeous because he reminded you of a fictional character you were familiar with, but his appearance somehow seems otherworldly…

“11:55, one minute left.” He muttered again as he crooned above your neck, gazing at his phone.

“For what?”

█████ laughed heartily. 

“For the bus, of course!”

You raised an eyebrow. The station was incredibly empty. You genuinely can’t tell who would lie to him about that.

“Sorry, █████, I don’t know who told you that but there’s genuinely no pattern as to when the bus arrives here. That’s fake news—”

“██████████!!! ██████████!!!”

You immediately snap your neck at the sound of the bus conductor.

“H-Huh?” Your eyes widened.

█████ wore a smug smile on his face as he watched you stare at his phone in disbelief. He was correct; the time was 11:56 pm. But before he had time to gloat and act “mysterious”, you snatched his cold hand and sprinted for the seats— apologizing to the college student you bumped into along the way.

No way in hell you’re going to wait for the next bus.

“We need to go! Now!!!”

You woke up the next day feeling more tired than the previous morning.

Tuesday means that you will inevitably have to work today. You woke up before your alarm, but instead of being a responsible adult and opening up a parcel of bread with hot coffee on the side, you rolled on your bed to whisk your charged phone from the nightstand. You received notifications from several social media apps and a work email from Mister Gautier, but you'd prefer not to startle yourself by hearing one of your subordinate's absurd justifications for being absent. Instead, you launched the Instagram app that you reluctantly installed because of Hilda.

The picture you took together with █████ is still up on his Story.

The image is just as you recall it. You might even say that your opinion of his appearance significantly increased after a good night's sleep. How did you manage to converse with your new coworker last night without turning into a stammering wreck when he is THIS drop-dead gorgeous? You're confident the picture wasn't edited in any way. After all, you saw him upload it directly to his phone's social media account because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't add any odd captions. Congrats to █████ for being incredibly photogenic. He genuinely looks like an AI-generated person with how flawless he appeared. You would have told Hilda straight away that whatever she was swooning over had to be some kind of catfish if you hadn't met him—

You squinted.

…

“Wait a second.”

You looked closely at his hand which rested on top of your shoulder.

“… Are those six fingers?”

That can’t be right.

Sure, he does look like an AI-generated person in the flesh but six fingers? Absurd. It’s probably due to the horrible lighting.

You can’t zoom in on a story, so you took a screenshot but—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Shit.”

You had no time to spare. Hastily, you rolled out, tossed your phone on the bed, and staggered to the restroom. You had to go as soon as possible since you have a meeting this morning. At this rate, soldiers who lived ration by ration likely had a healthier diet than you– but your boss is the embodiment of evil.

You’ll just have to look at the image later.

“Bad morning?”

“Oh, nice to see you here, █████.”

█████ grinned, pointing at the chair beside you, “would you mind if I sit?”

You smiled politely, “I don’t own this place, you know?”

He chuckled, “fair enough.”

It's 4:07 PM. Even though one of your team members arrived later than expected, you eventually built momentum and finished the presentation on a high note. Working with Mr. Gautier is such a headache. Thankfully, district managers have to go out in the field, so before you know it, you've excused yourself to eat lunch at your preferred café. The barely-melted coffee powder you had at home wasn't going to help you get through the day like your favorite cup here. Your cup was no longer a "morning joe", but better late than never.

█████ sank on the cafe’s chair, inhaling the aroma of the rich coffee you ordered. You assumed yet again that it was Miss Goneril’s atrocious wingman skills that led him to this place. His shoulders relaxed a bit afterward as he eyed your cup.

“I do wonder what real coffee tastes like…” █████ mumbled.

You'd give it to him, but you're stressed out—probably more so than he is, given that your supervisor basically holds his hand around the office like a newborn child. The gravity of the problems you carry as a District Manager is nothing to laugh at, either. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.

“Looking already stressed on your official first day, hmm?” You teased before you sipped your cup, pretending you don’t feel his jealous eyes. “Is being a Project Manager not what you had expected?”

█████ shook his head, scoffing with a lopsided grin.

“Oh no, I used to have bigger workloads. I’m only behaving this way since I’m not used to moving this face often.”

This face, huh? What a unique yet expected phrasing. After all, he is so attractive that it wouldn't surprise you if he thought of his face as a separate entity that must be maintained. █████ must be the type of person who cares an awful lot for skin care and self-love. Good for him, good for him.

“Never worked in retail before?” You tilted your head. “Never practiced your customer service smile?”

“In a way, yes,” he chuckled. “I am more accustomed to working behind the scenes since my younger sister takes most of the spotlight in the commi— our family business.”

█████ sure laughs a lot.

“Ah, is she something of an entertainer?” You teased. Knowing a thing or two about other people’s younger siblings, you anticipated some messy anecdotes which served to amplify your opinions on how chaotic having siblings is.

“No. On the contrary, she’s incredibly reserved and poised.”

“Then I bet there’s just something charismatic about her— is she the artistic type?”

“She is. Our family’s beloved princess is quite skilled in the art of dancing and calligraphy. You ought to watch her perform someday.”

You made an effort not to grin foolishly as humiliating thoughts ran rampant inside your head. His sister sounds like Ayaka already. How surreal would it be if you opened up your phone and did your Daily Commissions in front of him—

Oh, right! Your phone— that screenshot!

You ferreted your phone out of your bag, side-eyeing him each time you failed to find it inside its mini-pockets. █████ kept smiling as you busied yourself in hopes you’d locate your phone sooner. To fill in the dead air (and to avoid getting uncomfortable knowing that a man was keeping a close eye on you), you got right onto the meat of the subject by asking questions.

“Hey— I know this is weird, but can I see your hands?”

█████ didn’t respond for a while, lost in a trance before you lightly waved at his face. His soft gaze broke as he blinked fast multiple times.

“My… hands? Alright.”

He pulled his long sleeves— which iconically trailed longer than any other coat in the company— to smoothly show off his slender fingers. █████ glanced at his wristwatch in the process. 4:09 PM. Just one minute more.

Meanwhile, you flinched. He clearly had five fingers in each hand. The normal amount. You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting.

“Hah, I’m definitely sleep deprived,” you spoke humorously. “When I checked our picture this morning I swear I saw six fingers.”

He didn’t laugh. Slowly, he closed his eyes, unamused.

“You’re wrong.” 

█████’s voice dipped low.

You never realized how warm his servile gazes were until he starts looking at you with a cold glare.

You felt your spine tremble as you took note of how he crossed his arms. What’s with this sudden shift in atmosphere? Shouldn’t he laugh at how strange your question was instead?

Why did he sound so offended?

Due to the nature of his tone, you sputtered out an excuse to bring back the light conversation you had before, “must’ve been because its dark— here hold on I took a screenshot of it.”

You opened your gallery, not bothering to scroll deep into it since it should be a recent photo. Yet, you paused, and frantically swiped up and down. You expected that screenshot to be the first image that greets you upon opening the app, but you only saw an entirely black PNG file. Why on earth did that screenshot turn void? You tried searching but you only found recent scans from the last week’s meetings and some “candid” selfies Hilda most likely snapped for herself. 

This makes no sense whatsoever! You swore you took the screenshot earlier and there was no notification that it failed to save it.

“█████” smirked.

11:56 PM M: (Y/n) waits at the bus station.

02:33 AM T: (Y/n) arrives home.

8:01 AM T: (Y/n) has a meeting.

4:10 PM T: (Y/n) looks at their phone at Cafe █████.

4:10 PM. GONE.

You’re so adorable when you have your phone close to your face with your eyebrows knitted like that… Oh, his dear beloved, you nearly got him…

It’s such a shame that he knows your phone like the back of his palm.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?”

Kamisato Ayato chuckled behind his sleeve.

You wouldn’t meet his eye, “I was pretty certain I took a screenshot of it this morning, this is so strange…”

Quickly, you opened Instagram to check “█████”’s Story, but the image was missing as well. Since Stories only expire after 24 hours, and it has only been a little over half that time since it was posted, it shouldn't have disappeared. Your eyes remained glued to your phone, unbeknownst to the sinister smile your coworker wore amidst your defeated state.

“Say, did you remove your Stor—”

“Here.”

“█████” slid his phone onto the table.

You picked it up. It’s the picture you two had at the station. You zoomed in on his hand.

Five fingers.

“… Yeah, it’s definitely five,” you whimpered almost inaudibly. “Here I thought I could show you something funny. Damn. I’m really sleep-deprived.”

“I know, you sleep at around 2:30 after all.”

“Yeah—”

You took a breath and then shook your head. There is no need to be skeptical about that statement; it's simple arithmetic. He reportedly knows a lot about accounting, thus he most likely estimated the length of your ride home as if it were a no-brainer. You gave him a wary smile. He's a lot more calculating than you first thought; he even picked up that you were looking for the photo you took the night before without your having to tell him.

Doing what needed to be done without being asked…

“█████” swiftly took his phone back.

“Now then, would you care to enlighten me as to what tastes good on this cafe’s menu?”

You smiled.

Yeah. You think you’ll get along with the new Project Manager just fine.

“Why, it’ll be my pleasure! First off, the frappe here is not that bad…”

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS

tighnari x gender neutral!reader — oneshot. romance.

if you read between the lines, colors, and shapes of the petals, perhaps you might find meaning conveyed to you through the language of flowers.

— wherein you are a secret admirer of tighnari and you decide to send him flowers and along with equally-flowery words.

Rukkhadhava Mushrooms? Check.

Kalpalata Lotus? Check.

Padisara? Check.

Scarab fluid? Check.

“Do you find all of the necessary ingredients to be satisfactory enough?” An employee asks Tighnari as he counts the number of each ingredient separated into containers on top of the table.

“Yes, thank you very much.” He responds busily.

“I wish you the best in your endeavors. I will be off now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Tighnari nods his head as his pencil drags off carefully against the page of his little notebook, crossing small boxes listed between the grid lines. Work was constant and even more so now as he feels its amount in waves lately with the sudden new virus spreading around due to the withering zones. Fortunately, only a few were infected and it is not taking too much of a toll on his body—with him balancing the role of being a Forest Watcher and a sort of doctor on the side.

He sighs as he closes his notebook shut and sits down on the chair. He looks around him, wide dark emerald eyes admiring the abundance of greenery inside Pardis Dhyai and taking in the cluster of herbal and floral fragrances between each soft inhale.

He then glances at the clock.

3:29AM. Any minute now–

“Delivery for Tighnari!” A deep, gravelly voice enters the vicinity and Tighnari immediately stands up to respectfully bow to the delivery man.

“Ah, Arkan.” Tighnari greets the tall, burly man right in front of him politely. There is a bundle of purple hugged between Arkan’s arms and he eyes it promptly; expectantly; disposition still even despite the slight anticipating twitch of his ear. “I assume that is for me.”

“Ya got that right.” Arkan agrees gruffly, extending his arm out to hand him the bouquet of vibrant purple Forget-Me-Not flowers. “Your lover’s been quite consistent.”

“Perhaps ‘admirer’ would be a more suitable term. I still don’t know who they are.” Tighnari shakes his head before glancing down at the flowers now in his arms. Its petals are the shade of mustard yellow at the center, transitioning to vibrant purple as he eyes the petals down to its rounded tips. He wonders what is their motive behind all of this. How was he to fall for a person whose identity he had no slightest idea of? It was unreasonable to fall for a figment of his imagination—the mere idea built from expectations of who this person might be.

But still, he keeps the flowers close to him. It stays displayed inside his home, consistently being replaced every week upon each delivery. So far, he had received a total of four flower deliveries, all appearing to be freshly-picked and very healthy.

I’m keeping them because it would be a waste not to. Tighnari nodded to himself.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to think about it by yourself.” Arkan dips his head slightly for a temporary farewell. He would be seeing Tighnarini again soon, no doubt.

“Alright. Thank you for the delivery, Arkan.”

Tighnari sits down once again, placing the wrapped bouquet on his lap, supporting it with one arm. He counts the flowers and the snowy Gypsophila surrounding each small bundle of Forget-Me-Nots. He brings it up to his face, breathing in the floral fragrance before noticing a small piece of rectangular paper pasted onto the wrapping. His fingers gently move the flowers to read the text.

“What if you forget to forget-me-not and we fade away?”

A new piece added onto the puzzle of the admirer’s hidden painting. Clever. Forget-Me-Nots. Tighnari thinks back to the previous pieces of paper he had received along with the bouquets of flowers. So far, the compilation of all the notes reads:

“You can open up to me; show me what’s inside. Mother nature made us to intertwine.”

“Lavender elixir so full of pheromones, give me one taste and you’re gone.”

“What if I can’t get you out of my thoughts? What if my seasons don’t change?”

And today, “What if you forget to forget me not and we fade away?”

The admirer seems troubled today, Tighnari thinks, humming to himself in deep thought. Perhaps they liked him more than he had initially expected. He expected to be receiving about only two to three deliveries of such things, but it’s turning out to be more of a consistent thing now. Looking forward to Monday’s every time the clock strikes thirty minutes after the hour of three in the afternoon has become a sort of habit.

But he wonders: When would this end? When would he get to meet the individual who has been going through the effort to send these on a weekly basis?

Perhaps he must do a little bit of investigating for himself.

The next week comes slowly as the virus dies down significantly with Tighnari providing the patients with treatment. It has provided time for him to give some thought onto the next course of actions he might take to look for the admirer, and perhaps, the best person to ask first is the person consistently delivering the flowers.

Arkan comes marching to the front of Tighnari’s house at exactly 3:30PM, and he’s there to receive him just in time.

“Arkan, I have a question.” Tighnari began as he accepted the bouquet. Today’s flowers were a fresh bundle white Tropical Morning Glories wrapped in black paper. He fishes for the note stuck onto the wrapping paper behind the flowers and silently reads it.

“You’re my little flower blooming in the night.”

Blooming in the night... Morning Glories were also known as Moonflowers.

He purses his lip in thought as his ear unconsciously twitches. He scratches the back of his neck. Why are my ears warm? Perhaps it is hotter today than usual.

“What is it?”

He looks up from the bouquet and eyes Arkan curiously. “By any chance, do you know who’s sending these flowers?”

Arkan lets out a loud guffaw at his question, pressing his hands onto his abdomen. “I thought you’d never ask."

“It’s just that I was too busy to be pondering about that previously with the virus and all.” Tighnari places the flowers onto the ledge of his porch before crossing his arms. “So? Will you tell me who they might be?”

“No can do.” Arkan shakes his head.

He sighs. “As I suspected. Looking for them is not going to be as easy as that.”

“How ‘bout I give ya a hint?” Arkan places his hands on his hips, grinning down at him widely. “You know them.”

Tighnari squints his eyes.

He knows them.

He browses his memories for the list of people that he knew but it was turning out to be rather difficult when he was practically familiar with more than half of Gandharva Ville and many from Sumeru City. It cannot possibly be Collei; she is much too young and she has been quite close with a boy her age lately that lived near their home. Cyno was way too subpar with his linguistic skills to be able to construct mellifluous words such as these, and it is apparent with his dry jokes, thus it is unlikely to be him. Paimon and the Traveler on the other hand had long left the vicinity of Sumeru. And Alhaitham… Well, he’s Alhaitham. Could it be Kaveh?

“Do they live closeby?” Tighnari asks after a few moments of thinking.

“They live in a sort of paradise. Sort of like a garden, if you will. That’s all I gotta say.” Arkan laughs before saluting to him. “Welp, I’ll leave ya to it.”

So it’s not Kaveh, then. Thank goodness. Tighnari breathes out a sigh of relief before taking the flowers from the ledge once again. He must quickly put them in a vase.

Another week comes and Tighnari is finished trekking through the forest with Cyno after dealing with one of the few remaining Withering Zones left.

“So you have been receiving a bouquet of flowers every week.” Cyno summarizes after Tighnari explains the entirety of the situation. “I see.”

“Yes, so if it is not any trouble and if you aren’t busy with work, would you mind helping me investigate this matter?” Tighnari tilts his head, waiting for his friend’s response.

“I’m afraid that I must refuse.” Cyno answers, quickly pulling his eyes away to look up at the nearby trees.

“Hm? And why is that?” Tighnari crosses his arms. “You are looking suspicious right now, my friend. Don’t tell me that you’re actually the secret admirer?”

Cyno sends him an offended look, or at least, as offended as his typically-stoic face could look. “Do I appear to be the type who writes poetry? I must say that my jokes are quite great, but poetry on the other hand?”

“Yes, it is exactly as I thought. Except for the jokes part.” Tighnari nods, ignoring the second wave of offended expression that paints his friend’s face. “But why were you acting suspicious just now? Perhaps… you know who they are. You know who has been sending the flowers to me.”

Cyno shakes his head. “It’s not that I knew. I only figured it out when you told me about the flowers just now.”

“How?”

“Easy. I suggested the flowers, or rather, I told them you liked plants, and maybe, flowers.” Cyno explains before suddenly looking thoughtful. “But now that I think about it. The notes do sound like something they would do.” He hums thoughtfully. "Hm... they even went all the way to Sumeru City to ask about something like that."

“Well? Are you not going to tell me who it is?”

“No.”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his face in annoyance. This was becoming more frustrating with the way Arkan and Cyno were being so secretive.

Cyno pats his shoulder comfortingly. “You will find out who they are soon.”

“Why? Will they reveal themselves?”

“I do not know. But upon meeting them, it is only time before they slip up. They’re not as patient as you believe they are.”

“Yes, maybe…”

Tighnari receives three stems of Tulips today, tied together with a thin white ribbon that also holds a piece of paper along with it. His eyes squinted a little upon realizing that the texts today were a bit longer, and the handwriting was a bit messier.

Hm… Tulips…

“All I see are Tulips (you) and

I’m a hummingbird;

Heavenly ambrosia in every curve.

Honey dripping over my imagination;

The fragrance keeps flowing straight

down to my soul.”

He doesn’t hold back the warmth that spreads across his light-skinned cheeks and tips of his ears—or rather, he couldn’t. Whoever was writing him these notes and sending these flowers seemed to know just the precise words to make a person’s heart quiver. That, or this was simply born from the inexplicable feeling of adoration; one that Tighnari himself still doesn’t understand.

Perhaps, you would care to show him—to make him understand where all of these saccharine poems flow from inside you and onto paper.

He flips the paper around and is surprised to see an added note.

“I heard you were looking for me. Why don’t you come and find me, then?” He looks down further at the bottom of the page. “Here’s a hint: I live in paradise.”

Paradise? Tighnari squints rubs his chin at the familiar word. Where and when could he have last heard it?

Paradise… Ah! His eyes widen as he remembers his conversation with Arkan about two or three weeks before.

“They live in a sort of paradise. Sort of like a garden, if you will. That’s all I gotta say.” Arkan laughs before saluting to him. “Welp, I’ll leave ya to it.”

Paradise… Paradise— Pardis? Pardis Dhyai? If his suspicions were correct then… then the admirer was much closer than he had initially suspected. He had assumed that they lived in Sumeru City due to the weekly access to new and foreign flowers being delivered there frequently. This had caused him to forget about Pardis Dhyai completely—the actual grounds for producing an array of different plants and flowers.

He set the flowers into a vase filled with water and began preparing to clean up his things. Turns out that he had a trip to make towards Pardis Dhyai outside of work hours.

Tighnari arrives at the vicinity as the Sun had already set, leaving the shrounds of orange to be submerged underneath the dark blues littered with specs of white. Strange to him as it may be, but his heart is racing fast against his ribs as he takes rapid steps to enter the greenhouse. Perhaps it may be from all the running, or maybe it was the nerves swallowing his being, but one thing is for sure and that is the fact that his curiosity and the need to understand cannot deter him from finding out the one behind all these things.

He enters the greenhouse and the silence engulfs his ears aside from the crickets resounding from the distance. He steps forward, moving to the area where the flowers were born side by side, and there, he sees someone standing there, tending to the plants at this hour.

“You’re my little flower

Blooming in the night…”

His eyes widen as hears them sing softly as they hold the watering can over the vibrant leaves and petals.

“Only for an hour,

The northern lights.

My Casablanca sweetheart,

Nectar so divine.

Baby, you’re the best part

Of my life.”

“So it is you.” Tighnari’s voice cuts through the pause of their singing. He sees their shoulders jolt a little in surprise before they turn around slowly, sheepishly. It was you, the employee in Pardis Dhyai who guided him throughout each time he collected ingredients for new medicine.

“So you have found me.” Your smile is relaxed as you take a step towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shivers at the contact but doesn’t move away, causing you to chuckle. “Shall we have a chat?”

“W-What makes you say that I have the time? I could be here for some herbs.” He blurts out, a little out of character from his typical self.

You chuckle at his nervousness. “Well? What can I do to convince you to stay?”

[qlala]

Given that David Singh is Not An Idiot and canonically knew about Barry being the flash despite Barry and Joe’s (and Cisco. and Eddie. and Julian. and Cecile) attempts at keeping it a secret, do you think he would just have to sigh and keep his mouth shut around Barry when he inevitably sees cctv footage or something that makes it very very clear that captain cold and the flash are fucking.

Do you think he contemplates retiring that day.

david singh would at the very least consider retiring just so he doesn't have to deal with the inevitable procedural and legal nightmare that would result when word got out that the flash is a CCPD employee who directly interacted with evidence in criminal cases & testified at trials, AND is fucking captain cold

like, pre-legends leonard is wiping out mob influence in central just so HE can be godfather of the city, there's no way that the lawyers for every person barry's evidence or testimony contributed to so much as getting community service wouldn't be suing the city and getting an appeal, claiming that barry was motivated to falsify evidence or lie under oath to put all of leonard's competition in prison and help him keep control of his Criminal Empire™️

...and then i think david would be like, well, i'm not throwing away MY career just because barry allen can't keep one secret, let alone two. and he would start dropping hints specifically about the leonard snart part until barry goes to joe like '"hey, joe, has captain singh.... said anything weird to you lately......?"

joe: what did you do

and barry's teetering on the edge of muttering "it's more of a 'who'" when he sees singh looking at him expectantly from across the precinct, and barry realizes that the options singh have set up here are 1) "tell joe i'm sleeping with snart just to find out if he thinks singh knows" or 2) "accept that singh definitely knows, and therefore could've told joe, but he hasn't yet, so he must want something"

so barry holds eye contact with singh as he answers joe, "i...... told singh that i was.... thinking of switching jobs?"

and singh nods at him slowly, once, and then goes back to his emails

and barry is so relieved—he totally just bought himself at least another three months of not having to tell joe about leonard—that he doesn't even care that joe spends the next two weeks lecturing him about the importance of Having A Career and Using His Degree and Remembering That Life Exists Outside Of Being The Flash

(and yes, leonard did know that there was a CCPD security camera pointed at the alleyway when he dragged the flash into it. he just also happens to know that david singh is an eminently reasonable and career-driven man, who could be very useful in helping leonard to stop breaking his and lisa's rule when it comes to Not Dating Badges.

the other options were breaking up with barry (more disagreeable than it should've been) or proposing to him (less disagreeable than it should've been) (there was no rule about not marrying them) so incriminating video evidence and an anonymous tip to captain singh seemed like the best approach overall)

[ninihousebears3000]

An interview with HR

HR Deparment! Reader x Hellsing (everyone)

“Hi welcome! Everyone just calls me HR but it has grown on me.”

So what do you do here at the Hellsing Organization?

“I am the head of the Human Resources department. At the moment I am lobbying for more employees or at least an assistant. Fingers crossed Sir Integra answers my emails about this inquiry…Or any email.”

What happened between you and Alucard?

“Oh, wow we’re talking about that incident. Already? Well like any incident we keep it confidential of what happened between the parties involved.” *clears throat*

“Okay, I am speaking to you as a friend venting on their fifteen. To keep a long story short, Alucard attempted to drink my blood one night. I defended myself and immediately had our long-awaited one-on-one meeting about his rampant misconduct.”

What are those tip jars for on your shelf?

“Oh, this? So I put some change in here every time I have to file a report against Alucard. It’s a way to keep me motivated and not let misconduct run loose.”

What about the other ones?

“How do I put this? Well for Pip Bernadotte I simply put change anytime he says something that’s not workplace-appropriate. Or if I have to take disciplinary action against his men. At the end of the week, I treat myself to a movie.”

The same for the ones on the top shelf?

“Okay between you and me as a friend venting on their lunch break. Those are to keep track of every time something happens…that causes weird feelings. *clears throat* For example Seras Victoria sweet person. But she can unintentionally cross boundaries. So I do that as a way to remind myself she may be nice and really adorable but I can’t let this slide.”

“For Walter, he’s really great and helps me out a lot but I get the creeping sensation that he’s around every corner. I know he’s the butler but it’s almost as if it’s planned that I keep running into him.”

“Unfortunately, I got too personal with Pip one time when I was on my lunch break walk. And while the Wild Geese were booby-trapping the perimeter I accidentally stepped on a land mine. While he was disarming it I might’ve been very vulnerable thinking I was gonna die…He went in for a kiss I gave him a gift card instead.”

Is there one for Sir Integra?

“Um, well you know I thought she didn’t like me at first. Saying she did not need my department. But when I told her why every company needs an HR department she simply smirked?”

“After my landlord turned out to be a vampire who drank the blood of tenants who were late on rent. And then started a ghoul army I was, of course, rescued and Integra visited me in the hospital. And gave me a room here.”

“Although, I did notice that my bedroom was near her bedroom. And I feel like she might be watching me?”

“You know I always feel watched by everyone…”*puts change in all the jars*

Do you think they’re attracted to you?

“What, no. That’d be inappropriate work relations. Come on you think I’d violate that rule?”

“I am not here for myself. You see many may think I take my job too seriously. It is said Human Resources are meant to protect the company and not the employee. I disagree! I aspire to make every workplace environment safe and productive!”

“Excuse me, sir, here is your second cup of coffee.” Walter walks in placing the cup on your desk.

“Oh thank you Walter you didn’t have to.” You smile at him.

“Nonsense it is my pleasure to serve you.” There was something about Walter’s smile that felt off but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Was it that you felt something in your chest?

“By the way sir, if you don’t mind me asking who were you talking to?” He asked.

“Uh, well, um…”

“I think they’re pretending to be on a show like The Office? Like they’re being interviewed?” Seras answered from the other room.

“Is that why you always make a face looking off to the side!” Pip walked into the office.

You felt heat rise to your face feeling like you got caught.

“I was wondering what was going on in their little mind.” Alucard peered through the wall.

“As long as they do their job I don’t care what they pretend to do.” Sir Integra interrupted this impromptu get-together. “Although it is deeply amusing.”

You wanted to shrink and hide from everyone’s eyes. Despite how large the mansion is it felt cramped. Do you have an effect on people you aren’t aware of?

“I know it’s the afternoon but can I come out of my coffin I can’t sleep?” Seras asked when there was a brief moment of silence.

“NO!” There was a unanimous no. Meanwhile, you added money to each jar.

[malegains]

Corporate sent him to a newly opened Starbucks in India to investigate some strange reports they were getting. He couldn’t find a thing wrong with the store, though. The staff all did their jobs well, and they got along great with each other and the customers. The customers loved the store and especially loved the staff. The only strange thing was, everyone who worked there was male, and they were all, well… he asked to take a group picture of all the employees, just because he felt like no one would believe him, otherwise.

“I just want to keep up with the others,” one explained.

“We workout together sometimes, it’s great motivation.”

“Customers want to feel my arms, and they always leave a good tip when they do! So I make my arms bigger.”

He returned to the States uncertain just what he would say to the higher ups who’d sent him over there. On the plane ride home, he started to feel sweaty and uncomfortable in his seat… was this button-up always so tight on his arms…?

[queersociologist]

queer Target employees and supporters are walking out of their shifts in protest of the widespread removal of pride merchandise in all stores nationwide. A major problem with removing the merchandise universally (beyond the message it sends to the LGBTQIA+ community) is that it isn't accurately representing the conditions of workers in areas where there isn't right-wing backlash happening. My local workers haven't seen any bigots, nor heard any threats, yet are being ordered from the CEO to recall goods regardless. While many conversations can and should be had about how poorly Target has handled their rainbow capitalist pride push annually for a decade now, at the expense of workers and members of the queer community, indiscriminately pulling goods from the shelves sets a horrifying precedent going into Pride season.

remember, these corporations are not your friends and they aren't part of our family. They are motivated by profit, and the minute they get scared or feel the scales tip they will drop us. Cops and corporations will not keep us safe, WE keep us safe, by uplifting small queer creators and remembering the point of Pride season in the first place.

[teaberrii]

Chapter 14: Time's Ticking

You and Dan Heng are a match made in heaven until fate takes him away from you too soon. Years later, you think you moved on with a mutual friend who shared your grief and stuck with you during tough times until you meet a mysterious man with a striking resemblance to your past lover and a hidden motive. You’re determined to get rid of him, but how are you going to get rid of a god?

Dan Feng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail crossover

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Support my writing

It’s been a few days since the strange text, and you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or nervous that’s all you received. Normally, you’d pass this off as a joke or an accidental text, but considering the circumstances, you just can’t. You’ve tried everything: texting back, tracing it, and alerting the police. But all you discover is that the number no longer exists, which makes you wonder if this is the work of magic.

Is it from Lan? Nanook? You doubt it. Why bother with a text when you've already met Lan? So, a sick prank from Childe, maybe? Or, is it the mystery man behind Lan and Nanook? The questions drive you crazy, and you wonder if this is the motive behind this ridiculous text. Once you've exhausted your options in figuring out this mysterious number, Dan Feng suggested something that caught everyone's attention at Bailu's apartment yesterday night.

"If Furina exists, it's safe to say that The Great Purge failed," Dan Feng said. "She wouldn't have managed to live this long."

Bailu sighed. "You know... I've been thinking. The mystery person behind Lan and Nanook's escape. What are they, exactly? A god? Someone like Furina?"

"Whoever they are, they knew about the teleporter," Neuvilette said. "That much is for sure."

"I think it's safe to say that they're behind this psychological game," Dan Feng said, nodding to your phone. "They're using magic, which means they found a way to wield it."

"But, couldn't they be like us?" Bailu mused. "They keep using magic until their power is completely gone?"

"Then, they should know how valuable it is to save their magic. Why would they use it on this?" Zhongli asked. "If we are assuming that Lan and Nanook are supposed to be doing the dirty work."

Neuvilette exhaled softly. "Perhaps they are like Furina. However, that wouldn't make sense either as we haven't seen her wield magic. She may have wrote The Book of Curses and lived for an abnormally long time, but that's about it."

You lean back on the couch. "Here's another thought. Who's to say other people didn't know about The Great Purge before it happened?"

Dan Feng briefly closed his eyes and nodded. “True.”

After a short silence, Neuvilette said:

“I suppose the question is... What caused The Great Purge to fail?"

"That's a loaded question," Bailu said. "Like... Where are we going to start?"

“Perhaps the place where we performed the ritual,” Dan Feng said. “The place where The Great Purge first started.” A pause. “My old home.”

You’re working at the office today while Dan Feng takes a little adventure back to the palace. Despite looking at your laptop screen, your attention is on your phone, hoping you’ll get an update in the group chat you share with the dragon gang.

A co-worker taps your desk, and you immediately look up. "He wants to see you now."

You got the message this morning that the team is getting a new temporary leader who’ll be supervising the group and the project’s progress. You don’t know much except that it’s a man, and he wants to meet the group members individually when he arrives later in the day.

You head upstairs, walking past busy-looking employees until reaching the quiet corridor. You aren’t sure why, but the closer you get to his office, you feel uneasy.

You knock once, and immediately a voice says:

“Come in.” You open the door and see a man with long dark blue hair with red tips and red eyes. He gestures for you to take the empty seat in front of him. “Take a seat.” So, you do, and he introduces himself as Yingxing.

“I… think we’ve met before,” you say, a little skeptically.

You’re trying to remember why he looks familiar when he says:

“Has Dan Feng mentioned me?” Your heart almost drops to your stomach. Dan Feng? How does he know about Dan Feng? He picks up on your confusion and slightly smiles. “Some people know me as Blade.”

Should you feign ignorance?

“Interesting name,” you finally say. “Why the alias?”

“Yingxing is a more fitting name for this generation, but you can call me whatever you feel most comfortable with.” His elbow is on the armrest, and you don't like the look in his eyes. It's as if he's studying you. "Dan Feng is looking for the Aeons, is he not?" He slightly leans closer. “Or, is he looking for you?”

Unfazed, you give him a deadpan look.

“I’m getting tired of explaining that I’m not someone from the past. How do you know about me?”

“I know he's secretly looking for the woman who betrayed him. He’s never admitted it, but I know he wants answers. And... you say you're not someone from the past, but it's telling me otherwise."

You narrow your eyes. "What's telling you otherwise?"

“I am not supposed to exist,” Blade says sternly. “When The Great Purge happened, it was supposed to rid magic from the world. But something went wrong.” A slight pause. “I would think you know about The Great Purge.”

“I do. I also know that you were the one who told Furina to write The Book of Curses." You cross your arms. "If anything went wrong, I would suspect you had something to do with it.”

“A bold accusation, but I suppose it’s logical.” You almost roll your eyes. “But it wasn’t me. I never wanted immortality.”

"...So, you're like Furina. You never died? You just continued to exist?"

Blade almost chuckles. "Ah, so you know that much already." Then, his expression turns stoic. "Immortality is possible if you know the right people." Right people…? “There’s only so much you can accomplish without external resources.”

“What do you want?” you ask. “You say you’re here because someone granted you immortality. Do you think it’s Dan Feng? Is that why you're asking about him?”

“I’d like some answers.”

“How are you so sure he’s the one responsible?”

“You sure have a lot of trust in him. I don’t know whether to call you courageous or foolish. If you are the reincarnation of the woman he hates… he’ll kill you.”

“I’m not,” you say bitterly. “So, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“So you say.” Blade leans back, and his eyes land on your necklace. “Who gave that to you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You asked me earlier what's telling me you're someone from the past." He points to your necklace with his pen. "There's your answer."

◆◆◆

Pierro is working in his office when he gets a call. He reaches for the phone and hears his receptionist’s voice on the other end.

“You have a visitor.”

“I’m not expecting anyone today,” Pierro says. “Whoever it is can wait.”

“Are you sure, Sir? Tsaritsa is here to see you, and…” Pierro hears some muffled conversation. “She won’t take no for an answer.”

Pierro shuts off his monitor screen. “All right.”

It’s not like he has a choice.

Tsaritsa arrives shortly after in her familiar dark blue dress. Her hair, tucked behind her ears, is pulled back into a fancy braid, and her makeup is uncharacteristically bold with a dark red lip and gold smokey eyeshadow.

“I thought the event would keep you until late,” Pierro says, gesturing for her to sit on the sofa. He stands and walks to a long table near the large window. “Coffee? Tea?”

“I finished reading the diary,” Tsaritsa says. Pierro, who’s pouring himself coffee, stops halfway and puts the decanter back in its place. “And I want to know more about the woman your ancestor mentioned… Idrila.”

Pierro turns around with his cup. “That impatient, huh? It can’t wait until later?” When she says nothing, he finds her silence a little suspicious. He turns around, pours her a coffee, and says, “Well, I don’t know how much I can tell you. I’ve never met her, obviously.”

Tsaritsa coughs, and he doesn’t think much about it until it starts sounding a little violent. Pierro turns around holding two cups of coffee and sees her hunched over with her hand over her chest. But what almost makes him drop the cups is when he sees blood on her hand. He quickly puts them down.

“Hey,” he says, running over to her side. “Are you okay?” He puts a hand on her back. “Did you take your meds?”

“I’m fine,” she says calmly, reaching over to grab a tissue. She puts it to her mouth and straightens up. “...I’m fine.”

Pierro, one of the few who knows Tsaritsa has more than just a weak body, still looks worried. “Are you sure? Have you been taking your medication?”

Tsaritsa looks at him, a look that screams that he’s asking the wrong questions. “I said I'm fine, Pierro."

Pierro frowns. “I’ve noticed, you know. You’ve been coughing a lot more, and your fatigue is getting the best of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if the others are picking up that something is wrong.” He sighs. “Have you been seeing your doc—”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Her question takes him by surprise. “I know it’s getting worse.” She sighs to compose herself.  “But, you and I both know there is no cure.”

It was late at night, and Nanook was heading back to his room in the mansion when he saw the door of Tsaritsa's room ajar. As he got closer, he heard her cough. Once. Twice. And…

He stopped and peeked inside.

Tsaritsa was standing, hunched over her table. An old-looking open journal was off to the side. Nanook quietly opened the door, not wanting to startle her, but then he saw the blood on the table.

“You’re getting worse," he said. Before Tsaritsa could react, Nanook was already by her side. “It’s escalating.”

Tsaritsa's hand groped for the drawer as she took a breath. Finally, she got it open, and her hand shakily took out some pills. When she had trouble opening the bottle, Nanook helped her and watched her down two pills.

“...I’m fine.”

“Really?” Nanook asked, not convinced. He glanced at the blood. “This says otherwise.”

“What are you doing here?” She grabbed the journal and closed it. Nanook realized it was the journal from Pierro. “It’s late.”

“Well, I heard you coughing, and”—he looked at the blood—”do I need to say more?”

“It’s nothing,” she answered calmly. “I’m getting better.” Then, she put a hand on top of the journal. “You knew Pierro’s ancestor, didn’t you?”

Nanook slides a hand inside his pocket. “So, that old geezer mentioned me after all. Should’ve known.”

“This woman that you and Lan were so fond of…” Tsaritsa faced him. “Idrila. She was sick, and after she poisoned herself to end her suffering, both of you wanted to bring her back to life.”

“Why are you so curious?” Nanook asked skeptically. “I thought what you wanted from that journal was to learn more about that pretty boy so we can get rid of him.”

“And I did learn something,” she answered. “But, this is my first time hearing about another woman.”

Nanook scoffed. “You sound like an obsessive ex.”

Tsaritsa suddenly grabbed him by the throat, but Nanook didn’t flinch. “Let’s stop playing games, shall we? Regardless of your reasons for staying in the human realm, I kept you around because you promised me one thing… You could find a cure.”

“And I haven’t stopped looking.”

“The sickness that Idrila had… She began coughing blood in its early stages.”

Now, Pierro understands.

“You don’t…” he begins. “Are you saying you have the same illness as her? That’s ridiculous! If what the journal says is true, it wasn't normal.”

“Wouldn’t that explain my circumstances?” Tsaritsa asks bitterly. “You’ve been with me since the beginning, Pierro. You, out of all people, should know how many times I’ve been told ‘I’m sorry… I wish we can do more.’”

“But that doesn’t mean it’s magic.”

The silence drags on… and on… and on.

“It’s because of Lan and Nanook, is it not?” Pierro asks. “Because of who they are and what they did, it feels like anything and everything can be explained because of magic. I know you want an explanation. I would, too. But this isn’t healthy.” He sits next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll get through this together.”

Will they, really? Tsaritsa has her doubts. Still, she knows Pierro means well unlike the others she met in her life.

She never knew her birth parents. Those at the orphanage never told her much about them either. It was a rainy night when they found Tsaritsa wrapped in a blanket in a large basket at the entrance of the orphanage. So, her childhood memories were with the kids who accepted her despite her weak body. But that didn't make life any easier as she watched them leave for loving homes. Pierro was the first. Arlecchino was the second, and Columbina was the third.

“Oh, I wish we could adopt her, but you see, we’re looking for…”

Tsaritsa believed she heard it all. Every single excuse one could think of for not wanting her, and all of them were about her condition. So, when a family decided to adopt her, she was over the moon until she discovered the truth.

“Is she asleep?”

No, Tsaritsa wasn’t. She was upstairs with a perfect view of her adopted parents in the living room below. But, they couldn’t see her as it was dark, and she blended in with the darkness.

“Yes,” her mother answered.

Her father sighed. “We… should’ve waited. Don’t you think? If we found out sooner you were pregnant, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Oh, it’s a little harsh to call it a problem, right? We were told that I couldn’t get pregnant… So, this should be a great surprise. Besides, Tsaritsa is a good kid for her age.”

“But, I’m thinking about the future. Now that we’ll have a child, I would like them to take over our business.”

“And… What about Tsaritsa?”

“I… I don’t want to assume the worst,” her father said. “But, will she live long enough to see the day?”

And since then, before Dan Heng’s mother was even born, Tsaritsa already hated her. But not as much as she hated her adopted father.

“You say it can’t be magic,” Tsaritsa says. “But do I need to remind you that it still exists? Lan, Nanook, and Dan Feng’s existence is enough proof.” She turns to Pierro. “Idrila was born with a weak body, but her condition was purposely made worse.”

“That doesn’t explain how you could’ve gotten it,” Pierro says.

“Did you read until the end?” Tsaritsa asks. “Before she died… She had a child.”

Pierro’s face goes pale.

◆◆◆

Bailu arrives at one of the largest hospitals in the city. She has her hands on her hips as she stares in pride that the hospital she helped to get off the ground is still doing well.

Despite being born with a condition that stunted her physical growth, Bailu easily soared above her classmates in terms of knowledge and talent. She was only ten years old when she graduated from one of the most elite universities in the nation and after two years of work experience in the field, she entered medical school. Graduating early, she had many great job opportunities but chose a small clinic, Bubu Pharmacy, that was just starting to get off the ground. With only two employees, Bailu was attracted to the idea of building something big from scratch. And it wasn’t until she brought someone back to life that Bubu Pharmacy completely changed.

It was a slow and rainy day, and Bailu was enjoying her usual conversation with her co-workers, Herbalist Gui and Baizhu when someone entered. As soon as they heard the bell, they spun around, shocked to see a drenched woman carrying a bleeding, young girl on her back.

“Please…” the woman muttered. She would’ve fallen to the floor if Baizhu hadn’t caught her. “Please help my daughter.”

“Y-You need a hospital!” Herbalist Gui said, a little shaken.

“There’s no time for that,” Bailu said, examining the young girl. “She’s… She’s already dying.”

The woman grabbed Bailu’s arm. “Please… Please save her.”

Bailu remembers the day like it was yesterday. The woman and the young girl were victims of a hit-and-run, and they wouldn’t have survived. Yet, the young girl did, and while it was thanks to Bailu, she didn’t like to mention it… as she took the woman’s life to save her.

“Did it…” Herbalist Gui said quietly, his eyes wide. “Did it work?”

The young girl and the woman were lying next to each other on a large table. Bailu stood on one side while Baizhu stood on the opposite.

“Bailu,” Baizhu said, and she looked up at the young girl. “You’re shaking.”

Bailu looked at her gloved hand covered in blood. It was true.

Suddenly, a painful groan grabbed everyone’s attention. Bailu almost gasped as the young girl’s eyes fluttered open.

“Wh… Where am I?”

“Oh, my God…” Herbalist Gui muttered. “She’s… She’s alive!” He looked at Bailu. “You did it!”

Except, Bailu wasn’t sure what to feel.

The young girl, confused and disoriented, finally saw her mother next to her. “M-Mom…!” She held her hand, and Baizhu saw the moment her heart dropped to her stomach. “You’re… You’re so cold.” She looked at the worried faces around her. “Who are you? Why is my mother—”

“She’s gone.”

No one expected Bailu to be so direct. Not even herself.

“She’s gone…?” the young girl repeated, and her voice barely above a whisper. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She gave up her life… to save yours.”

“No… That’s…” She looked from Bailu to her lifeless mother. “That’s impossible. You can’t—”

“That’s what we thought,” Bailu interrupted. “But you… You’re living proof.”

“This is huge,” Baizhu said quietly. “I never thought this could be possible.”

“How?” the young girl asked, her fists clenched. “If what you said is true, how did you do it?”

Bailu never thought she’d say it, and it felt more surreal after she did.

“Magic.”

They soon learned that the girl was named Qiqi, and with no other relatives, Bailu, Baizhu, and Herbalist Gui took her in and treated her as one of their own. But it wasn't long before they realized that transferring her mother's life to hers had consequences. Qiqi had stopped ageing, and she was physically stuck as a child. This had grabbed the attention of the locals and the media, and soon, Bailu was being pulled in all sorts of directions to research this strange phenomenon.

But Bailu had made one thing clear: She didn't want to do it again. She knew that Qiqi and her mother were supposed to die that night, but she played with fate at the desperate request of Qiqi's mother and won with conflicting feelings. By now, only a few individuals had access to developmental research about magic. Bailu was one of them. But instead of researching more about taking someone's life to give to another, she followed her interests in immunity and immortality, hoping that no one would ever have to give their life to save another again.

Despite times changing, Bailu is happy that Bubu Pharmacy—now Bubu Hospital—still retained its traditional look and feel. Baizhu, Herbalist Gui, and Qiqi would be happy knowing that Bubu Hospital is alive and well. As Bailu takes the elevator to the uppermost floor, she walks down the quiet corridor, not wanting to reminisce about the past… again. She has done it far too many times, knowing it doesn’t make the pain of losing them any easier.

She also doesn't want to remind herself that losing them has made her a murderer.

“Tsaritsa? Is that her name?”

Bailu stops. Did she hear that correctly? She takes a few steps back and peeks into the room. A man with long blonde hair sits with one leg crossed over the other in a chair. But it’s the man standing that grabs Bailu’s attention.

It’s him. It’s Nanook.

“I have reason to believe she’s Idrila’s descendant,” he says. “And you… You were her doctor, were you not, Luocha?”

Luocha? Why does that name sound so familiar?

It was a slow day for Bubu Pharmacy, so Bailu spent it working on her research. Baizhu was in the room next to hers, and he hadn’t come out since she saw him walk in this morning. Curious about what he was up to, Bailu left the room, saw Herbalist Gui and Qiqi attending to a couple of customers, and then softly knocked on Baizhu’s door.

“It’s open.”

Bailu opened the door and peeked inside. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

“Oh, you know…” Baizhu sighed, his eyes still on some experimental equipment on his table. “I don’t know if you heard… but the princess of the nation developed a strange illness.”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces, but not entirely sure what it is she got.”

“It’s supposed to be confidential,” Baizhu said. “They don’t want to cause any unnecessary panic.”

“Figures,” Bailu muttered.

“But, as much as they want it to be confidential, we won’t get anywhere if we don’t share information.”

“She’s losing blood, isn’t she?”

“Rather than losing, it’d be more accurate to say something is draining her blood,” Baizhu said, and Bailu raised a brow. “They say it’s because of a spy from the neighbouring nation.”

Bailu wasn’t surprised that those in power would want to direct the blame to others, and what better scapegoat to use than their biggest enemy nation? As she never liked those in power, she never bothered with remembering names or faces. Leaders were all the same. Greedy. Power-hungry. Two-faced.

“Do they want you to use magic to cure her?” Bailu asked.

“Well… That’s the thing,” Baizhu said quietly. “There’s no magic that can. Not right now, at least. Perhaps it also has its limitations or more research needs to be done.”

“Huh… How interesting that not even magic can provide a solution.”

“They’re bringing in another doctor to see if he can provide some insight,” Baizhu said. “I’m meeting with him tomorrow.”

“Really? Who?”

“Someone named Luocha.”

“How long are you going to keep standing there?” Luocha’s green eyes meet hers through the crack in the door. “You’re welcome to come in.

The door suddenly slides open.

“Well, well, well,” Nanook says with a small grin. “Look who it is.”

Chapter 15

End notes:

And the mystery deepens...

I promise to make the timeline a little clearer lmao. But, for now, Bailu and Dan Feng would've been human in the same time period but Bailu "died" before the invasion happened. For some reason, this chapter was kinda difficult to write. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed learning more about Tsaritsa and Bailu. And damn this chapter was hard to name lol.

Tag list: @lunavixia @sunsethw4 @boomie-123 @aerithsthingss

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hiiii, hope u're doing well :)

Can I request a slow burn-strangers to lovers connor stoll x mortal reader please?

( no headcanon, just a one shot 🫡)

Like how they met, their first kiss... AND connor reveling he's a half blood

A fem reader or gender neutral is okay

Okay so this has been sitting in my drafts since the stone ages but I had a burst of motivation so here's 2.9k of teasing and fluff

It's not really a slow burn because it's a one shot but it's implied that it happens over time so yk yk. And I checked all the boxes you get first interactions a make-out session and the big reveal :)

<3

Cafe au but it's not an au--- Connor Stoll x gn mortal!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

“We’ve got a new kid today, you wanna show him the ropes?”

You finished ripping the receipt out of the machine and smiled politely at the customer who took their change and moved to the side. The receipt made a tearing sound as you pushed it onto the metal spike [you didn’t actually know what it was called, you realized], and then spun around, “oh thank god, yes please.”

“That’s what I thought,” Maria chuckled, wrapping an apron around her middle and pining his name tag to the front of the green material that had an odd shaped stain on the pocket. “You hate the till.”

“Who doesn’t?” 

“Hopefully the new kid, he should be here in a minute, I did say four thirty.” He looked up at the clock behind the queue of customers waiting for their coffees that read four forty, and then glanced towards the glass doors.

“What’s his name?” You ask, resetting the price on the cash register and taking off the stupid little cap whoever was at the til had to wear. You groaned, “oh please don’t tell me it’s his first job, i can’t explain how to count change to another pimply little-”

“It’s his first job, just moved to New York,” she said, lifting up a sticky note and reading the note underneath it on the whiteboard near the mops. “And his name is… Cecil Markowitz.”

“I’m here, I’m here!”

“We noticed.” Maria muttered drily, pulling the cap over her jagged strawberry blonde hair. 

A blonde kid, maybe fifteen or so, panted on the other side of the counter. He was in a school uniform that he tugged a black hoodie over the top of as he spoke at the speed of light. “Sorry, my brother had to drive me and he ran like four red lights so we wouldn’t be late but then-”

“Then you shut up so your amazing big brother —who did not have to drive you here by the way, I have other things I could be doing— wouldn’t get arrested?” Another boy asked with a raised eyebrow, swinging car keys around his pointer finger. You had to pay a little more attention to him than the bouncing blonde currently eyeing the tip jar, because wow, the jawline he had…

“You have to look after us Connor! That’s the whole agreement!” Cecil hissed up at his brother. 

“Zip it, short stuff.” Connor [you liked the name] smirked, then turned to you. His eyes widened for a moment and you ignored the fact you immediately noticed they were blue. He blinked a few times and then cleared his throat, “Um. uh, I’ll get a black coffee… please.”

You just shrugged at him, and motioned for Cecil to follow you into the kitchens, where the fridge foods were whipped up. “Don’t order from me, I'm showing short stuff around.”

A look of horror dawned on the new employee’s face. “No, not you too!”

»»————-　★　————-««

“I’m sorry, but we don’t serve pizza here, there’s a dominoes a few blocks away if you-”

“No, I want to order one here, thank you.” The customer said to you with a frown and that patronizing look you got ten times a day just for being a teenager. “I know what I’m talking about, I’ve gotten pizza here a million times, and I'd like two large meatlovers.”

You stared blankly at the woman in front of you for a moment and wondered if it was too late to drown yourself in caramel sauce just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this lady. You take a deep breath and bring out that perfectly fake smile again to-

“Oh Fucknuggets! Miss, that chick just ran off with your purse! You’d better go chase her down!”

“What?” She shrieked, and reached for her big red leather bag and went pale under her orangey powdered face. “Oh for heaven's sake!”

The woman was out the door immediately, chasing down four different people that had just left the cafe. She waved her arms wildly and wailed like a duck that had just been stepped on.

Connor watched her leave with an amused expression on his face you had to quickly pull your eyes away from. He reached into the pockets of his spiderman hoodie [SpiderHam, to be specific] and pulled out a blinged up silver purse, flicking through the contents with interest. 

He turned to you and held up an ID card with that smug expression that made your stomach feel like you’d had too much bubble tea. “I reckon I could pull it off, in the right lighting.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that.” You said quickly with your eyes narrowed, but Connor pulled the wads of cash out and stuffed it into the tip jar as he turned to the glass double doors. 

“Hey!”

Cecil nearly stumbled into another customer and you motioned to the back of the cafe, pulling his apron off the rack and handing it to him as he took off his yellow beanie, which for some reason had a lot of little sun’s sewn around the edges. “Hey short stuff, you can start by taking the trash out.”

He visibly sunk, tying the apron around his middle and sighing. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Definitely don’t go over the fence to the back of the dollar store because it would be a terrible idea to see the baby racoons living in the recycling bin.”

Connor grinned, watching his little brother speed out of the room with black bags of rubbish in his hands. “So… Can I order from you today?”

“As long as it’s not a pizza, go ahead.”

“...What’s your favorite?” Connor asked, leaning on the bench littered in plastic cup lids and receipts, with his chin in his hands. He was lucky there wasn’t a queue behind him, but you probably would’ve let him sit there and distract you anyway.

You just tapped away at the ipad, sending the last of the order’s over to Maria, who was making one of the matcha teas. “Not a black coffee, if that’s what you're asking.”

“No seriously, what is it?” he said, and you felt yourself get hot when he glanced somewhere a bit lower than your eyes. Not in a gross way, but holy shit when did his own eyes get that lidded? “Maybe I’ll try it sometime…”

“Are you asking to kiss me or do you actually want an iced strawberry tea?” You blurted out, hand frozen over the screen in front of you. 

Connor went red in a matter of seconds and shot up, his eyes certainly not lidded anymore. “Oh look at the time I have to go make sure my goldfish doesn’t drown,” He yelped, tripping over untied shoelaces and scrambling to the door. 

“Careful… You’re looking at him like you look at those racoons.” Maria muttered as he walked past with a little grin.

»»————-　★　————-««

You dumped your school bag on a bench in the corner of the kitchen, but before you could ask Jerry if there was a new order you were supposed to pick up some new ingredients [the amount of times Connor ordered a black coffee when he dropped off Cecil meant they were seriously out of it[, someone banged on the back door. 

It was pouring with rain outside, but you eased open the door and peaked out into the stormy weather, then frowned at the figure. “What are you doing back here-”

You stopped in your tracks and choked, nearly dropping the drink in your hands. Cecil rubbed his hands together to avoid frostbite, a thin line of blood down the side of his face. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and thin patches of golden powder covered it, and his clothes.

He grinned, wiping his nose. “If it’s any consolation… This isn’t my blood?”

“Maria’ll clean you up, go.” You open the door properly and shove him into the warmth, then shut it behind you and step out into the biting wind that ripped though your green apron, and marched up to the car parked near the dumpster.

Holding your hand over your eyes so you weren’t blinded by the headlights, you yelled at the driver. “Why the fuck did short stuff just come out of a fucking apocalypse movie?”

Connor leant over the passenger seat and opened the door with a totally fake innocent smile. You didn’t think he could look innocent. Hot, on the other hand…He still looked hot with blood smeared across his cheek and something shiny underneath his fingernails, apparently. He shrugged one shoulder “I mean, it isn’t our blood?”

“Connor.” You muttered, crossing your arms and squinting through the mist swirling around your feet. You looked down and had to step out of a puddle with a grimace. 

Connor blinked and replied instantly, as if this was something he had to do a lot. “Do you want the technically legal version, the version that’ll make you happy, or the-”

You cut him off and glared, rain clinging to your eyelashes. “The truth.”

Connor thought for a moment and then gave you an apprehensive look. “There was a feral Harpy in the backseat of the car that popped out when we got to the intersection two blocks over.”

You sighed. “I said the truth-”

“You don’t believe me.” His voice was faint, and somehow hurt. He sounded resigned though, like he was expecting it. The look on his face made you want to climb into the pretty beat up car and grab his face and tell him you believed him so much and forever just so he’d look happy again.  

Maybe if you let him talk. He could be referencing something you hadn’t seen, you reasoned. “Was the harpy like a monster or a furry?”

“Well when you think about it harpy’s really are just furry’s, but yeah it was an actual monster.” Connor said simply, and then he chewed on his thumbnail nervously “Uh, do you wanna… hop in? You look like my brother when he stuck a huntsman in Annabeth’s pillow case.”

“What does spider pranks have to do with being soaked?” You mutter, not really meaning for it to be a question. You climbed into the passenger seat, brushing pools of water off you and wiping your nose. 

“You can’t even imagine.”

You raise an eyebrow at Connor. “I work in customer service, try me.”

“My dad is a god.” He blurted out, then froze and turned away from you with an odd expression, his gaze trained on the rain outside.

“Are you talking about the Romans and the Egyptians, or are you Jesus?”

“Greeks, actually.” Connor said through gritted teeth, then his eyebrows shot up and that familiar tone you might have thought about a few times seeped back into his voice. He untensed and grinned at you“One of my buddy’s did come back from the dead actually… but I don’t think Jesus would like him very much.”

“Why?”

“He’s dating one of my other buddies.”

“Oh.” You blinked, but you weren’t really sure what this conversation had to do with Connor and Cecil being attacked. “Good for him.”

“My dad’s Hermes.” Connor said suddenly, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes. When you didn’t answer, too focused on the way his face looked when he scrunched up his eyes, he glanced at you again with a cautious smile, as if your reaction really mattered to him.  “Surprise?”

You thought for a moment, actually considered it, and “Yeah. That checks out,” 

“Whaddaya mean? I don’t have wings on my shoes!”

“Isn’t he the god of like, traveling and stealing shit?” You ask, smiling back at him as reassuring as you could, soaked to the bone sitting in a boy’s car six minutes before your shift started. “Dude, you drive your brother back and forth across New York four times a week. And you stole that lady's purse.”

‘Oh yeah. That was fun,” he sighed, and sunk in the driver's seat. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and closed his blue eyes, relief painted across his face.

You wiped your nose again, sure that you’d get a cold tomorrow just from standing in the lovely New York weather for more than a few seconds. A song played on the radio quietly, and you recognised it from the playlist Maria played on the speakers in the cafe sometimes. 

The lyrics went something like ‘I rob and I kill to keep him with me,

I'll do anything for that boy’. When you looked over at Connor, you gulped.

Connor glanced at you from underneath his hand, and then looked down at the drink still clutched in your hands. The pink tone of it matched the fluffy strawberry’s hanging from the rear view mirror, and it was making your fingers hurt with the cold. 

He smirked. “Are you supposed to drink while you’re working?”

“You make it sound like I'm doing shots behind the counter.” You shot back with a glare, and then felt your face heat up as you spoke. “And uh… it’s not… I didn’t make it for myself.”

“There’s an angry old lady in there, you know?”

This was excruciating. You ducked your head and bit your lip a little, looking out the window so you wouldn’t have to see Connor’s face when that stupidly hot smirk spread across his lips. “Uh… I didn’t make it for a customer, either…”

“Is that-”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Connor was wide eyes and slack jawed when you turned back to him, a dark blush across his cheeks that you wanted to take a photo of because goddam he was cute, but you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting the sight any time soon. He opened his mouth to talk, his eyes no longer at, well… eye level. 

You put the drink into the holder between the seats and followed his gaze. “Just kiss me.”

You hadn’t seen that smile before. 

His hands were so warm on your jaw, as hot as the tight feeling in your chest that melted quickly. It happened so fast you couldn’t really register anything until you realized Connor was halfway between your seats with his teeth on your bottom lip and his soft hair threaded between your fingers. 

You used it to tug him closer, as close as he could and then more, because he was warm and soft and you could feel his grin through his lips that moved against your own in rhythm that ebbed and flowed. He slid his hands off you and you nearly pulled them back, until Connor was hugging you tight around your middle, his fingers knotting through the bow tied on your apron. 

You chewed on his lip, which felt puffy and pulsing under your touch, but you kept kissing him, breaking away every few seconds to breathe, but you couldn’t not press your lips along his jaw. He was just too much. You had to kiss him everywhere and pull on his hair and tilt his head back and melt into his touch like you’d die if you didn’t. 

Connor sighed into your mouth and gulped, you could feel his Adam's apple bob under the palm of your hand as you pushed him back gently by his neck. You got up on your knees as he blinked once or twice, like he’d been in a trance. “You took that all very well,”

“Don’t worry, I’ll freak out later when it sinks in.” You muttered back, pushing him back into the driver's seat where he’d begun. He made an odd noise and tightened his arms around your waist, ducking his head and when he pouted you couldn’t help but slide over the cupholder and sit on his lap, as if you hadn’t been planning to do so the whole time. 

Then he frowned, “Wait, you’ll freak-”

“Shhhh,” you said, pressing a finger to his soft lips. He shut up immediately. You glanced behind you at the console, checking the time. “I have four and a half minutes til I have to start, we can discuss this later.”

“Deal,” Connor breathed, dragging your hands down to his neck again and looking up with vague out eyes. You grinned at him and went back to wiping that stupid smirk off his lips.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Your boyfriends here.”

You looked up from the kitchen counter you were wiping down after an accident with the tub of coconut shavings, “Why?”

“I’m assuming he’s here for you, short stuff doesn’t have a shift til the weekend.” Maria checked the whiteboard and glanced out the swinging doors. You moved to peek over her shoulder and saw Connor standing by the doors, swinging his car keys around his pointer finger absentmindedly. He was wearing that spiderman hoodie again, the one you’d accidentally tipped black coffee down the front of once when you’d worn it. 

You grinned, if you finished up cleaning and took the trash out, you’d be done in five minutes and you’d get to follow him to his car that surely wasn’t road safe and then go wherever it was he’d planned this time. 

“Go. But tomorrow you have to stop the racoons from eating the tires off my Harley.” Maria sighed, crossing his arms and motioning to the exit.

“I love you.”

He raised his eyebrows “Was that directed towards me or the boy-”

“Both.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[tender-j]

(Johnny being silly on purpose so that he has a reason to be called by Kenshi in his office)

There is just something about Johnny that makes him drop down the professional act, probably the fact that he kept seeing his name in several complaints filed by his coworkers. At first, it was confusing; he was one of the highest scorers in the training. A competitive and skilful employee.

"It's like Mr. Cage forgot where the archive for this is." Syzoth once uttered, holding a small folder.

"According to my observation, I recommend putting him back to training again. It is quite odd, though; you've taught all of us well. It is as if he forgot everything." Ashrah suggested.

"Johnny got me the wrong papers six times." Said Raiden, with a sad look on his face.

"He's so doing it on purpose." Kung Lao retorted. Raiden frowned at him.

Every time they see Kenshi, all they ever tell him is Johnny this, Johnny that, Johnny likes him,

Johnny likes him?

"Kenshi, pardon my words, but he wants a piece of your ass." Li Mei whispered.

"Maybe you should be there so he can at least behave." Mileena sighed.

"He wants to grab your attention so bad." Kitana chuckled.

Not to assume anything, but his mind went back to Kung Lao's words; Johnny definitely might be doing it on purpose. But it's nothing if he didn't see it for himself. So, he called Johnny to his office, unknowingly sulking on his chair.

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

(Johnshi exams)

If there is one thing Kenshi is proud of right now, it is the fact that Johnny does not cheat. He could sneak an unsuspecting glance at him and see his eyebrows knit and the tip of his tongue hang out as he focused on his paper. He knew first-hand how much Johnny studied for this set of exam as he took everything Kenshi taught him and kept them in his brain.

But of course, Kenshi loves to be a teensy bit competitive, so he went back to focus on his papers.

He has a scholarship to maintain, but most importantly, he has a Kenshi to impress. Johnny truly set himself ready for this day, even more so because he finally had inspiration and motivation. He realized that he could be patient and build himself to be a great partner to Kenshi. One day, they will have a bright future together.

Expect Johnny to be rewarded handsomely because he did very well.

[sunshinesmebdy]

Asteroid Wage Enters Gemini: Tips for Thriving in the Whirlwind

Brace yourselves for a celestial shift that’s set to shake up the market: asteroid Wage is setting foot in the nimble, ever-curious sign of Gemini. Buckle up, because the next year promises volatility, adaptability, and yes, even potential financial gains for those who navigate this transit wisely.

What is Asteroid Wage in Gemini?

Think of Wage as the cosmic paymaster, highlighting areas of earning potential and value exchange. In Gemini, the realm of communication, information, and versatility, Wage gets supercharged. Expect dynamic shifts in labor markets, evolving payment models, and a renewed focus on skills and flexibility over tenure.

Impacts for Businesses:

Embrace the gig economy: The Gemini Wage favors agile operations and independent contractors. Consider outsourcing tasks and diversifying your workforce to adapt to changing demands.

Ditch the nine-to-five and hello, dynamic duo! Gemini Wage thrives on adaptability and short-burst projects, so tap into the gig economy to fuel your flexibility. Outsource tasks, embrace a diverse team of independent contractors, and watch your business pirouette through changing demands with the grace of a celestial ballerina. This isn’t just cost-effective, it’s a cosmic recipe for agility and growth.

Invest in communication: Clear communication is key to attracting and retaining talent. Streamline internal processes, refine your marketing message, and invest in technology that facilitates collaboration.

Make your message a megaphone under Gemini Wage! Crystal-clear communication is your golden key to talent, both attracting new stars and keeping your current team in orbit. Polish your internal processes to gleaming, hone your marketing message to a razor-sharp point, and invest in tech that fosters collaboration like a cosmic chatroom. Remember, in this whirlwind transit, the loudest, clearest voices soar highest.

Upskill your team: Be prepared for rapid changes in technology and market trends. Encourage continuous learning and invest in retraining programs to keep your employees relevant.

Equip your team for the cosmic roller coaster! Gemini Wage craves adaptability, so prioritize continuous learning and upskilling programs. Encourage tech-savvy side hustles, invest in retraining that flexes with market trends, and watch your employees morph from cogs in the machine to versatile, innovative problem-solvers. Remember, in this whirlwind, the sharpest minds reap the richest rewards.

Rethink traditional compensation: Bonus structures, profit-sharing models, and performance-based incentives become more attractive under Gemini Wage. Consider adopting alternative salary structures to motivate and retain talent.

Toss out the dusty old salary spreadsheets and embrace the dynamic dance of Gemini Wage! This transit demands agility, and that extends to how you compensate your team. Think beyond the rigid monthly wage. Bonus structures that reward quick wins and innovative ideas become gold under this celestial influence. Consider profit-sharing models, where your team’s success directly translates to their pockets, fostering a culture of ownership and shared goals. Performance-based incentives, tailored to individual strengths and contributions, light a fire under even the most seasoned employee. Remember, in the whirlwind of Gemini Wage, a little creative compensation can go a long way in attracting and retaining top talent. So, ditch the one-size-fits-all approach and get ready to tango with a compensation system that’s as adaptable and exciting as the cosmic twins themselves!

Investing and Finance:

Focus on agility and diversification: Gemini favors short-term, high-growth investments and sectors like tech, media, and communication. Don’t be afraid to experiment and spread your bets.

Ditch the tortoise, embrace the hummingbird! Under Gemini Wage, agility reigns supreme. Invest in short-term, high-growth ventures, particularly in the tech, media, and communication galaxies. Spread your bets like cosmic confetti, experimenting with diverse projects and sectors. Don’t be afraid to pivot and adapt, for in this whirlwind market, nimbleness is your golden ticket to stratospheric returns. Remember, diversification is the secret sauce, so keep your portfolio a constellation of possibilities, ready to catch the next supernova of opportunity.

Stay informed and adaptable: Be nimble enough to react to sudden market shifts. Embrace news apps, financial forecasts, and astrological timing (yes, even!) to make informed decisions.

Become a cosmic chameleon under Gemini Wage! Stay nimbler than a celestial ninja, ready to dodge and weave through sudden market shifts. Embrace financial forecasts and news apps like your personal oracle, but don’t underestimate the whispers of the stars. Align your investments with astrological timing, tuning into energy shifts for informed decisions. Remember, under this whirlwind transit, knowledge is power, and a sprinkle of celestial awareness can be the secret weapon that sets you apart from the herd. So, keep your ear to the ground, your eyes on the charts, and your mind open to the whispers of the cosmos — it’s the recipe for navigating the financial galaxy with grace and prosperity.

Look for the hidden value: Gemini’s sharp eye can uncover undervalued assets and innovative opportunities. Think outside the box and explore emerging markets and disruptive technologies.

This transit sharpens your eye to spot undervalued assets lurking in plain sight, like diamonds in the rough. Think beyond the obvious, explore emerging markets where innovation ripples like a sonic boom, and embrace disruptive technologies that could rewrite the financial rulebook. Remember, under Gemini’s curious gaze, the unconventional can become your goldmine. So, ditch the herd mentality, channel your inner maverick, and unearth the treasures waiting just beyond the edge of the financial map. The rewards for the adventurous investor are written in the stars!

Tips for Thriving with Gemini Wage:

Sharpen your communication skills: The more effectively you communicate your value, the more opportunities you attract. Honing your negotiation and presentation skills will pay off.

Network like a pro: Gemini thrives on connections. Build relationships with potential partners, clients, and collaborators. Your network is your net worth under this transit.

Embrace change and flexibility: Don’t get stuck in outdated models. Be open to new ideas, explore diverse perspectives, and adapt quickly to market shifts.

Focus on learning and adaptability: Invest in personal and professional development. Hone your skills, upgrade your knowledge, and stay ahead of the curve in your field.

So, entrepreneurs and financiers, are you ready to dance with the whirlwind? Let’s see what fortunes await under the sign of the twins!