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#also the new employee

marionette-j2x · 3 months

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The Stanley Parable: New Script AU

"Something had shifted in the system. Something had changed. The Narrator's struggling to maintain normalcy in his perfectly crafted story as wayward codes, random protocols, glitches and unknown entities started appearing in the parable. Now with his protagonist, Stanley and their newly acquired friends acquaintances, they try their best to comprehend the danger now the parable poses and figure out who the mastermind behind all of it."

^This is actually just a short summary of this AU. I just can't seem to verbalize everything about this since I cannot English enough the things that's brewing on my mind. I had this AU simmering in my mind since last December after discovering this game, (Yes, I know I'm a few years too late for this fandom-).

I might draw more stuff in this AU soon. Maybe a comic sometimes idk but I do have some ideas. (I still have to finish my other comics for the different fandoms I'm in tho.)

(You can comment on the post below if you wanted to ask details about this AU. Please be kind tho especially to each other!)

(also forgive me for misspelling the Curator's name ahahdgdhhd I was not aware. I was really tired skskskks-)

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hypewinter · 9 months

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Right so what if Danny became a psychologist instead of Jazz?

His friends and family died protecting him. So when he runs away and starts a new life, he adopts traits from all of them (both as a way of grieving and a way to honor them). For Tucker and Sam, Danny splits his free time between being a white hat hacker and a vocal environmental activist. For his parents, he adopts more of their eccentric personality. When he's not in a professional setting, he is loud and in your face about the latest thing he's been working on (he's also just about the most loyal person you can meet).

And for Jazz, his precious big sister, Danny decides to excel in the career path she never got the chance to enter. He resolves to fulfill her goal of helping out those society has deemed irredeemable. The ones nobody else can or wants to help. The first one he starts with, is the Joker.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales #twisting yourself into a hodge podge of your loved ones personalities and aspirations isn't healthy #in caee i needed to point that out #but danny was in a bad mental state for a while and needed to start a new life anyway so....#he's more well adjusted now but still #i'ma be honest i just kinda wanted danny channeling his inner jazz #as he systematically breaks down the joker's arguments and persona #without ever breaking eye contact #this is the result of that one scene running away from me #just like these tags #but oh well we press on #because i also want to explain #how effing hilarious it is to think about the batfam getting word about a new employee at arkham #which already has them in panic mode #and then they find out he's working with joker!?#double panic #then they talk with him and he sounds like he has a whole box of screws loose with the way he rambles on #alright everybody prepare for a new rogue to hit the streets soon!#until they get their hands on the first session danny had with joker #and he's clearly not the same guy they talked to weeks ago #his personality is just way too different #what the hell is going on?

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becauseplot · 9 months

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Having streamers on qsmp who aren’t super lore heavy or aren’t on every single day is actually so good for the ecosystem because you’ll be watching one of their streams and another (lore-heavy) player will come along and be like “Hey did you hear about what happened? Oh you didn’t? Here let me explain—” and proceed to spend the next 20 minutes summarizing all the Shit(TM) that went down while they were gone. Great for the streamers who can’t/don’t always engage in lore to stay in the loop, great for streamers who do engage in lore since they get to talk about the Cool Thing that happened, great for the viewers who can’t catch all the streams. Everyone wins.

#qsmp #qsmp meta #i missed Cellbit’s entire month of lore leading up to the ‘employee of the month’ moment #and I was like Aw :(( idk what happened #and then I watched the beginning of his next stream where he ran into jaiden and proceeded to spend 30 minutes explaining Everything #that happened over the month #also Tallulah’s little 20-page essays to phil explaining the new Traumas she went through are also super helpful #dont mind me im just rambling

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rocksalt-and-pie · 10 days

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I am subscribed to youtubers with bonus content behind a paywall (Rachel Maksy for example has recently started releasing every other video she produces to patreon and like, good for her even if i can't watch them? I still can watch the rest of her videos because she values her audience enough to continue to share half of her content for free). I am even subscribed to content creators who only put out two or three videos PER YEAR because the majority of their content is for their paying audience (Christine McConnell for example is almost exclusively on patreon/netflix and only posts very rarely on youtube and yet the free content she posts on occasion is always very high in production quality). Again, getting paid for their content isn't the issue here. It's the blatant disregard of their audience's demographic, values and interests, and the way this was communicated by pretty much laughing in our faces and basically telling us to fuck off if we can't afford to keep carrying them.

#this is what we mean by slap in the face just in case anyone on the team is reading this #also not to mention but they're not only letting down their fans they're also letting down their team because of this backfires. well #im sure they'll find new jobs but it's still a dickmove to endanger their livelihoods like that #ive been there lol ive had employers who gambled with the companies and in the end it was the employees who suffered the consequences #watcher #watcher tv #watcher entertainment #wearewatcher #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #mp #bfu

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cherrydreamer · 2 years

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It starts with a microwave.

Susan's microwave.

Susan's fancy-ass fucking brand new microwave that Neil had so smugly given her as a birthday gift only yesterday. The one that he'd then gone on to give a whole damn speech about, making sure the whole family- especially Billy- knew just how expensive it was, how it was a 'top of the line' product and should be treated as such, how they needed to make sure it was always wiped out after every single use and how they best not do anything dumb, like trying to reheat chicken on the soup setting.

That microwave.

The one that Max had, of course, somehow managed to break, her stupid, clumsy hands jabbing at the buttons until one of them stuck down and the timer went all weird and the fucking thing wouldn't stop beeping until Billy wrenched the plug out of the socket.

That fucking microwave.

And Billy knows that he's getting the blame. Because that's how it works. Because, even though it's not his fault, Billy is the one who's gonna get it in the neck for this, even though he'd told Max, he'd fucking told her, that if she just waited five goddamn minutes for him to finish his workout, then he'd sort out some dinner for both of them. But she just couldn't. She just had to rush on in and break it and ruin his whole fucking night and-

It doesn't matter.

Billy reminds himself of that fact. It doesn't matter how it happened because it's happened. Neil and Susan went out for their special fancy meal and Billy didn't watch Max closely enough and Max broke Susan's brand new microwave and, as soon as he finds out, Neil is going to break Billy.

It's fucked.

Everything is fucked.

Billy, most of all, is fucked.

Except. Maybe he isn't.

Because when the disorientation of the initial panic starts to ebb, giving way to an all too familiar clench of cold fear, Billy is suddenly granted an idea. A slight glimmer of hope. And he knows he can't afford to replace the thing, but maybe a repair could be manageable. Doable. It'll probably wipe out all his savings, the wad of cash he keeps under the seat of the Camaro and that he's pinned a whole load of his future hopes on, but hey, if Neil comes back and finds out what Billy's done, then his chance of a decent future is looking mighty slim as it is.

So Billy has a plan. Sort of. He heaves the microwave into his arms and hauls it out of the kitchen, yelling back at Max to grab the trailing cord clattering along the counter, and he manages not to drop it the whole way down the steps and then he's placing it into the passenger seat of the Camaro, taking more care of it than any actual passenger he's ever had, and then, with Max in the back, he high tails it all the way to the Hawkins' high street, screeching to a stop right outside of Radio Shack.

And it's closed. Of course it's closed. The real, definite, 'sign flipped and shutters down' kind of closed. Of course it is.

Because that's the kind of night Billy's having. And, ok, maybe he loses it a little and aims a frustrated kick against the door and maybe he pounds against the shutters and yells a few obscenities at the well locked door for good measure.

But hey, who can blame him?

And he's just about to turn around, head back to the Camaro and either drive home to face his fears, or just carry on driving right outta Hawkins, just him and Max and a kidnapped microwave that he might manage to hawk for gas money. He hasn't decided yet.

But for once, someone's looking out for Billy. Because, despite the store being closed, there's a sudden flown of a light flicking on behind the shutters, and then the door is opening and the chubby face of Bob Newby is right there, peering out at them with a bemused expression,

"Now guys, I know we've just got the new Flavoradio in but you kids really don't have to go beating down the door to get it, they'll all still be there tomorrow."

But Billy's already back at the Camaro, lugging the microwave out, raising a surprised sounding chuckle from Bob and an amused retort, "Careful there, sport, that looks like a weighty one." And then Bob's off, chatting away like he and Billy are old friends. Like Billy actually gives a shit about the crap he's rambling on about, "That how you get those muscles, huh, lifting appliances? Cause, that'll do it. Some of the guys in our warehouse? Arms like Schwarzenegger. Not quite the same for us store guys though-" he pauses, patting his gut and smiling, "Although I can't deny that the old brain cells do get a fair workout now and again."

Billy really doesn't have time for this, and, for all Bob's stupid jokes, the microwave is fucking heavy, one sharp corner of it digging right into the crook of his arm, so he's a little harsher than he means to be when he says, "Look, I really need this thing fixing. Tonight." But he quickly manages to tack on a, "Please?" when Bob's eyebrows start to raise.

"Well, now, Mister," Bob sucks his teeth, and tilts his head, "this is Radio Shack, and this thing sure as sugar isn't a radio. And technically, we're not even open."

Billy's heart starts to sink. Plummet, actually, aiming to land somewhere deep down to his feet, but then Bob's smiling again, "But hey, I won't tell if you don't."

And then he winks, ushering Billy and Max inside. He gestures for Billy to put the microwave down on the counter as he pulls a tiny, plastic case from out of his shirt pocket, opening it up and selecting a tiny screwdriver from a whole row of them, tapping the silvery end of it lightly against the microwave's control panel.

"And it just so happens-" Bob wiggles the screwdriver back and forth, tongue poking out from between his teeth as he concentrates on getting the angle just right, "-that I have some personal experience with this model. There's a bit of a design flaw with the, uh, the plastic edge here, right by the buttons, you see?" He taps the screwdriver on the place he means, smiling even more when Billy finally leans in to look, "Press it with a little bit too much force, and you might just find that it tends to jam right up, especially if someone touches it with sticky hands." Bob aims a knowing nod at where Max stands browsing over by the personal stereos, "But it's nothing that can't be fixed when you know how. In fact..."

Bob purses his lips, looking back down at the control panel and then up at Billy. He nods, seemingly to himself, and then he pulls the screwdriver away, holding it out, handle first, to Billy, "Why don't you do it?"

Billy shakes his head, "Nah, no way, I'll just fuck it up even more.

"No you won't," Bob sounds so certain of that fact, and Billy has no idea why, until he continues, "Because I'll help you. Teach you. So you do it and then if it happens again, well, you won't need to lug this thing all across town."

It's sensible, really, Billy thinks. Knowing Max, this is unlikely to be a one-time occurrence. And he can just imagine the look on Neil's face if Billy is the one to save the day. Hell, he thinks, his dad might even be proud of him. It'd be good, Billy thinks, really good.

So he takes the screwdriver. He listens to Bob's calm, measured instructions. He follows them. He listens a bit more. He pokes at the button. He jiggles it. He twists it. He nudges it.

It doesn't budge.

He nudges it again.

Nothing. If anything, it looks even flatter.

Billy throws the screwdriver down on the counter with a clatter, "I can't do it. I can't fucking-"

"You can, you've got it, look it's almost there," Bob's voice is patient. Reassuring. He picks the screwdriver back up, pressing it into Billy's hand again, "just tilt it up at the edge, give it a little bit more of a tap, and see what happens."

Billy breathes in and out, deliberately slow. He focuses his gaze on the end of the screwdriver, right where it rests against the sunken, stuck in button.

He tilts it up. He gives it a tap. Then another, a bit harder. And then one more, for luck.

This time, there's a click. It's the tiniest sound but it echoes in Billy's ears, and the button springs up, flush and level with the others.

Fixed.

Billy knows that he's grinning, a big, dorky, ear to ear one that he just can't stifle, and he looks up to see a matching expression on Bob's face.

"There you go," Bob says, voice full of pride, "Couldn't have done it any better myself. Look at that, huh?' Bob taps an approving finger on the button, pushing it in and watching it spring right back out, just as it should, "Good as new."

Billy nods, holding the screwdriver out for Bob, but Bob just shakes his head, gently pushing it back into Billy's hand.

"Why don't you keep hold of it?" he smiles, "Just in case?"

And Billy doesn't trust himself to speak. Not right now, when the surge of relief flooding through his body has left him dizzy and emotional, and Bob's kindness is only making things worse. So he nods, taking the screwdriver and dropping it into the pocket of his gym shorts, and then he heaves the microwave back into his arms, declining Bob's offer to help him carry it.

It's only when Billy's got the microwave and Max packed safely back into the Camaro that his brain catches up with him, and he grabs the bundle of cash from the gap underneath the seat, growling out a, "You didn't see anything, OK?" at Max's little gasp of surprise, and then he's heading back into the store.

He still can't quite meet Bob's eyes, especially when that dumb, bright, proud fucking smile is still on his face. So instead Billy looks down at the bulge of the case in Bob's top pocket as he rasps out a, "Thanks. For helping. And, uh, for the screwdriver. I, uh, I don't know how much-" he holds out the money, "But I'll get more. I promise. I don't have a job yet but I can-"

But Bob's shaking his head. Still smiling, he gently pushes the money back towards Billy.

"Don't be silly, you did all the work. At a push I could take a dollar for the loan of the tools but, uh, hey, I've got a better idea."

He reaches under the counter, pulling out a sheet of paper which he hands over to Billy.

It's an application form.

"We're pretty busy at the weekends," Bob explains as Billy tries to take it all in, "Gary and Lou handle most of the customers, but I could really do with a hand in the back. Repairs and such."

Bob must see the confusion on Billy's face, because he lets out a little chuckle, "I know, I get it. It's not the jazziest of jobs and I can't say the uniform is especially flattering-" he plucks at the collar of his shirt with a grimace "-but, hey, no one minds if we have the radio on back there, so that's a perk, and I'll teach you all you need to know, you've already proved you're more than capable of it. And I gotta tell you, there's a lot to be said for the job satisfaction." For once in their entire conversation, Bob starts to sound serious, "Just picture it, that whole experience of getting something that looks totally broken, all those pieces in a pile on the workbench, and, to start with, you might not know where anything goes or what all the parts are, even, but you know that if you try, if you figure out what all those pieces do and understand why they broke, well then, all you need is a little time and effort and you'll be able to put it all back together again. And, honestly, you can't beat that feeling, sport, you really can't."

It's a lot. Bob almost seems breathless by the end of his little speech, and Billy averts his eyes, staring down at the form in his hands until the words start to blur.

"There's no pressure, of course," Bob says, resting a gentle hand on Billy's shoulder, just for a moment, "But just think about it."

And Billy does.

He thinks about it a whole lot.

(So much credit for this one goes to @ihni and her wonderful Billy and Bob bonding headcanons. We pretty much came up with this whole thing during one of our many chats, and I've definitely borrowed a few of her ideas, I'm just the one who got round to writing it down first!)

#billy hargrove #cherrywrites #not Harringrove #but there is bob newby!!#he's fine‚ ok? i promise #he's alive and well and he'll be getting a new employee soon. probably #also billy gets found family #and he gets competitive over doing brain teasers with bob on their breaks #it happens. i know it

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corvidaedream · 11 months

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this is your semi-regular reminder, especially now that people are going on vacation and may find themselves somewhere like disney or a living history site or any sort of attraction where you may encounter an employee in a costume:

If You Wouldn't Touch Someone You Just Met In A Certain Way, Don't Touch An Employee In A Costume That Way Either

i don't mind when im offered a handshake or a little kid hugs me at the end of a tour. hell, i don't even mind if your bachelorette party asks if i want to join a group hug for a photo.

but im a person! the tinkerbell you see at disney is a person! the milliner at colonial williamsburg is a person! my coworker portraying an enslaved woman is a person! the clothes we are wearing are our work outfits, our bodies are our bodies. you do not get to treat us differently because of the photo op you want, or because you caught a glimpse of historical undergarments that intrigues you, or because you think that we, as workers, cannot say no to you without getting in trouble.

Treat Everyone You Encounter As A Person, And Don't Touch My Fucking Stomach

#messages from the ouija board #sadies day job #living history #i just hate that i have to give safety tips and reassurances to new coworkers about how to handle these things #i recently mentioned it offhand to some people from maintenence and they were horrified and i was like oh yeah thats not a normal issue #one of our shift managers who is black also just gave her own talk to a new black employee about dealing w harassment from guests #and it just makes me so mad the way tourists behave sometimes

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eruden-writes · 8 months

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Self-Destructive Life Choices - Part 1

This started off as a self-indulgent boss x employee little smut fic - wherein the boss just propositions the employee one day - but went a completely different direction.

Summary: Estrella Marsh has worked for Kizru Vit, CEO and owner of Storybound Publishing House, for five years. For most of that time, she has harbored a crush on him. A crush which she has, effectively, crushed down and refuses to address.

Three months after Kizru and his romantic partner separate, he propositions Estrella to - ahem - help him scratch an itch.

# # #

Read Part 1 and 2 on my Patreon.

Not sure if I'm going to update this.

# # #

Stopping outside her boss’s office, Estrella Marsh took a deep breath and readjusted the litany of papers in her arms. An excited apprehension always came with entering Mr. Vit’s proximity. It had been five years since Estrella started working at Storybound Publishing House and her nerves had never deadened.

Mr. Vit had been the one to hire Estrella as his personal assistant, which was just a more PC way of saying secretary. She answered calls and emails; scheduled and reminded him of appointments; and, less commonly, often read and “red penned” some of the potential manuscripts looking to publish under SPH’s logo. Likely the job should have gone to an actual copy editor or something, but the boss seemed to trust Estrella with the “special” option the most.

Estrella was not sure what made them particularly special, other than the fact they were written by the company’s #1 Best Selling Romance Author, CR Onamai.

Steeling herself as she pushed the door open, she half-hoped he would be gone. It was later in the evening and, since his long-time partner’s departure, he’d taken leaving early without notice. Keeping her head down - certainly not daring to look at the door that once connected Kizru’s office to Ryeleigh’s - she trudged into the office and made a beeline for his desk.

She barely got two steps in when Mr. Vit’s voice greeted her, “Hey, Red, want to help me with something?”

Her head snapped up, finding Mr. Vit leaned back in his chair. His green eyes on her and his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive fashion.

The nickname he gifted her wasn’t particularly imaginative, coined upon her talent for “red-penning” manuscripts. There was no other reason for it, considering she had neither red hair nor a penchant for wearing the color.

Fighting down the heat of being seen, Estrella moved closer to his desk and placed the stack of documents down. Task complete, she stood straight and clasped her hands in front of herself. “What is it, Mr. Vit?”

She was careful to keep the curiosity from her eyes when she looked at her boss.

Kizru Vit was not necessarily someone she had imagined sitting at the helm of a publishing company. If Estrella hadn’t worked at the publishing company, she would have pictured the head to be someone older and bespectacled. Perhaps possessing a distinguished air. Someone no nonsense and particular.

Kizru, on the other hand, was tall and broad with a seaweed green skin tone and features that could be called sculpted or craggy, depending on his mood. His style of dress waffled between business-casual to, on predicted slow days, sweatpants and a tank top. A scar streaked down the right side of his face, turning his right eye a more milky shade of green. Despite the injury, he assured Estrella he could still see out of the eye.

His age was beginning to show in his black beard, peppered with white, and at his white-streaked temples. During her employment, the rest of his hair had subtly shifted from deep black to a lighter shade, undoubtedly becoming lighter with age.

Admittedly, he did wear glasses and at times he could be distinguished. Though thanks to how closely Estrella worked with him, the distinguished air was often undercut by his scatter minded tendencies.

“It’s been three months since my partner left me, right?” He braced his elbow on top of the desk, leaning forward as his chin rested in his palm.

His position reminded her of a schoolkid, staring longingly at the clock as it inched closer to dismissal time. However, the reminder of his ex almost made her jolt. Ryeleigh, her boss’s ex, had been his romantic partner for longer than Estrella worked at the publishing house. They’d always been pleasant and kind, though professionally distant. Something Kizru could have taken notes on when Ryeleigh was present.

Further, they had always been one of the reasons Estrella had clamped down on the fond thoughts of Mr. Vit, keeping her admiration from becoming more than workplace appropriate.

“Yes, I believe it’s been about three months.” In an attempt to swallow the feelings that threatened to flutter through her, she gave a stoic nod.

Kizru’s green eyes watched her carefully for a long moment, fingers toying with the short beard at his chin. Estrella couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. Had Ryeleigh contacted him to renew their relationship? Was he considering getting back out into the dating world? Neither of those thoughts seemed like he’d need her input.

He was a grown man, capable of doing his own research or taking his own ass out on the town if he so pleased.

“Alright, putting all the cards on the table,” Kizru finally sighed, pressing both of his palms flat to the desk as he leaned back. She noticed how his chair slid backward as his back hit the cushion. “I’m really horny.”

Her attention shot to his face, her eyes widening at the three simple words. He was horny? Heat churned through her, confused and wary. As much as she admired him, as much as he made something inside her squirm, that was not in her job description. And she wasn’t about to let it become entangled in her professional affairs.

With her eyebrows furrowing and her lips twisting into a frown, she replied, “You have two hands. Use those.”

“Believe me, I have been. It’s an itch that needs another person to scratch.” Kizru groaned, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling again. He didn’t even have the decency to be flushed at his ridiculous request, Estrella noticed.

“Mr. Vit, this is sexual harassment,” she sighed, her tone a hard warning. He shouldn’t need this reminder. These words alone could ruin him. Only the fact she liked him and felt grateful for this position really saved him from the scandal.

As expected, he nodded and turned his gaze to her. “I know.”

“Then why ask me that!” It was more of an exclamation than a question on her part. She was glad she had already deposited the papers to his desk, otherwise they would have been thrown into flight. While not the first time he had spoken openly - unprofessionally - in front of her, this was by far the worst he’d been. Had the break-up really affected him so badly?

He gave a single shoulder shrug, too lackadaisical in Estrella’s opinion. An infuriatingly light grin tilted at his lips. “You didn’t say no right away.”

“And I didn’t say yes,” she snapped back, trying to convince herself the heat on her cheeks was ruddy anger rather than mortification. Or something worse. “You could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kizru gave another careless shrug that made Estrella want to slap the everloving shit out of him.

“You are risking your career, your livelihood to scratch an itch, Mr. Vit.” It was only by the gods’ grace that Estrella managed to say the words at her regular decibel, albeit in a ferociously clipped tone. She put her hands on her hips, scowling at her boss. Something in his smile twitched a little wider and, not for the first time, Estrella felt like an old-time schoolmarm being sassed by a precocious adolescent.

Which honestly should not have been the case, given the fact he was older than her. But she had always been an “old soul,” as her mother said. Of course, Estrella later realized that was just a more polite way of calling her stodgy.

Kizru shrugged as if he didn’t care about the problems his proposal could cause as he got to his feet. Her mind raced, one question rotating around her thoughts. How could he not care? All the while, part of her watched as Kizru moved out from behind the desk, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Are you having one of those mid-life ‘oh no my partner left me so I’m going to make destructive life choices’ moments?” The words would have had greater impact had Estrella not backed away from her boss with his every step forward. She couldn’t risk Kizru getting closer to her. The heat on her cheeks and the pounding in her chest were already distracting enough. Just catching the whiff of his cologne made her knees wobble.

He paused, looping his thumbs into the pockets of his pants as he regarded Estrella. She could only imagine what he saw. A frumpy woman, dressed in her usual black slacks and white blouse and grey cardigan. Dark brown hair so threaded with grey, it was becoming a lighter, dustier, color. She barely resisted the urge to bashfully push her glasses up higher on her nose.

Did he think she’d be an easy lay? Was that why he was breaching the legally allowable parameters of their employer-employee relationship? Estrella tried to let that thought fuel her anger, but a hidden part of her knew it wasn’t exactly incorrect. She had, in her moments of weakness, fantasized about that very breach of conduct herself.

As if hearing her thoughts, a crooked grin parted his lips, making her insides burn. That particular smile always brought her attention to his tusks, often filed down to nubs. Since the separation, she thought he may have eased off on the ritual, but it was hard to tell.

“Maybe I am being self-destructive or maybe I’m just horny and decided to shoot my… shot with you, Red.”

Estrella narrowed her eyes at him again, somehow feeling the other word he had hanging on his tongue. His smile twitched, a spark of mischief dancing in his green eyes. Shoot his load with her, indeed.

“Look, you'll be all within your rights to go to HR about this. You can walk out that door now and I won’t stop you.” He raised his hands, palms facing Estrella in a non-threatening motion. She had to bite her tongue to keep from ogling his forearms, the sleeves of his button-up shoved to his elbow. This situation was not one where she should gawp at her boss. She should be offended and disgusted, on her way to HR right that moment.

When his next words registered in her head, it froze her thoughts. “But I can smell the arousal on you. I have for a while. Just figured, what with me being single now and the opportunity…”

Cold shot through Estrella, making the heat on her cheeks burn all the worse. Her wide eyes pinned him with a wild look. “How long?”

“Excuse me?” Her tone of voice caused him to pause from creeping closer, cocking his head to the side a little. There was a little spark of amusement in his eye, an odd smile barely quirking his lips at the corners. Somehow, he was taking her words down an inappropriate line of thought.

Estrella swallowed, forcing her tone to come out calm rather than frantic. “How long have you been able to smell arousal on me?”

She had smashed her feelings the moment she met Kizru with his partner at the holiday party, five years ago. She had shoved them so far down, they were flatter than a pancake. There was no way he could have known. Estrella didn’t even allow herself to dally on her… appreciation of him for too long. A wall had been built!

“Oh!” Whatever Kizru had been thinking had apparently been wrong. The wry grin faded a little as his eyebrows quirked. “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t take too much notice of it until Ryeleigh left me?”

Well, that was a little bit of a relief. Her shoulders eased, admitting that arousing attraction was different from whatever else threatened to stir in her chest. Kizru was attractive and nice. The occasional daydream was natural.

Still, Estrella glanced at the exit, uncertain what to do. He was circling behind her and her heart wasn’t truly looking for an escape. Hells, her mind wasn’t even telling her to move. Being propositioned by her boss wasn’t unappealing.

“Last chance to leave, Red, before I…”

Once again, his words roused her from her frenetic thoughts. Her attention snapped back to his face, hating how wide her eyes were as she stumbled back from his approach. “Before you what?”

Kizru teeth flashed in a broader smile, taking another step closer. “Before I stop restraining myself.”

#exophilia #boss x employee #exo writing #orc #paranormal romance #orc x human #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #contemporary fantasy #monster x human #monster romance #monster lover #orc lover #just trying to get out of my writing rut #since working on new things tends to help #but I'm still struggling #:/#I'm also moving my computer AGAIN tomorrow

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curiousratcreations

clay artist inspired by animals, nature, food, and fantasy!